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drakeheart · 7 months

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MEMORIA

Decima receives a visit from a ghost of her past, and is faced with a decision that will shape her fate. Set just before the start of IBS.

cw: trauma, manipulation

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Waning rays of autumn sunlight carved golden paths through the mist-laden boughs of a secluded Ascalonian forest. Varinia Stormsounder picked her way carefully through this rugged terrain, noting the signs of her quarry: faint but recognizable scratches upon the bark of the trees marked out a carefully concealed trail. Its seemed her information had been good, after all.

As if to confirm, the dense underbrush soon gave way to a clearing, revealing a humble dwelling--a small grotto set against a rocky outcrop, complete with a makeshift scrap-metal door and several ill-tended patches of wild plants. Barely a settlement, but a sure sign that someone lived here.

Cautiously, she stepped forward and reached out to knock, but before her hand even made contact with the door, an arrow whistled past her head, lodging itself into the metal frame. Startled, she turned to see the looming silhouette of a tall female charr emerging from the treeline, bow at the ready, another arrow already nocked.

"…you. Why are you here? How did you find this place?" the charr growled, her voice deep and wary.

"Decima. It's… good to see you again." Varinia responded, doing her best to smooth down her bristling fur. "You're a difficult charr to track down, you know that?"

"Yes, and I intend to keep it that way. Now answer me, before I make you regret your efforts." She bared her teeth.

"Come now, is it too much to believe I simply wanted to catch up with an old friend?"

Decima's pull on the bowstring tightened. Varinia nervously cleared her throat.

"No, I, uh… I suppose not. But will you at least hear me out? I have a… proposition, of sorts. Something I believe you'll be very interested in. It'll be quick."

Decima's expression was unreadable, but after a few moments of tense consideration, she lowered her weapon. Varinia exhaled in relief, a wry smile curling across her muzzle.

"Excellent. I promise, you won't regret this."

---

The inside of the grotto was just as unassuming as the exterior. Charr did not typically live lavishly, gladium even less so, but this was meagre even by those standards. The room was barely furnished, with little more than a workbench, a straw-lined bed and a small table with a rickety stool. Upon being let in, Varinia had promptly perched herself upon the single seat, so Decima paced restlessly about the floor, listening as the smaller charr spun her tale.

"…a legion rally? Why are you telling me about this?" she rumbled, scowling deeply.

"It's not about the rally, but what comes next. Bangar has plans for the future of the charr. He seeks to forge a new era, one of unity and strength. All charr beneath a single banner, legion and gladium alike. No one left behind."

"That seems unlikely." Decima snorted, shaking her head. Her voice then grew quiet. "Besides… the legions made it very clear that I have no place with them anymore. Old, or new."

"Decima…" Varinia sat up straight, her expression serious. "What the legions did to you is disgraceful. Despicable, even. After all those years, all that you'd done for them, and your warband--"

"You keep them out of your mouth." Decima snarled, suddenly rearing up to her full height, her scarred face contorting with anger. Varinia couldn't help but flinch.

"Fine! Fine." she yielded, holding up her hands. "But it doesn't have to be this way. Gladia deserve better than this. You deserve better."

Decima turned away, struggling to maintain her composure, fighting against the sudden tide of fragmented memories flashing through her head. Searing flame, twisted steel, shattered bone. The remnants of all she had lost. Wounds even time couldn't heal.

She took a deep breath.

"Even if that were true…" she hissed out bitterly, "Why would an imperator want a crippled old gladium like me in his ranks? He's got the pick of the legions. I've been out of the fight for... years, now. What purpose could I even serve?"

"You and I both know that a soldier like you doesn't simply retire." Varinia rapped her claws across the table, leaning forward intently and fixing her with a stare. "You're no wretch, Decima. War is in your blood. Even if you can't fight quite as you used to, you're nothing if not… adaptable."

Decima shifted uncomfortably, suddenly wondering just how much the charr had poked her nose into.

"I didn't let you in here so you could stroke my tail, Stormsounder." she retorted stiffly.

"No, I don't imagine you did." Varinia's stare was relentless. "But you do know that I'm right."

Decima remained silent for a long moment, keeping her eyes averted, then spoke again.

"…do you really believe he can change things?"

"Bangar is strong! He has seen the rot that festers at the heart of the Black Citadel, and he intends to excise it." Varinia's voice rose with fervor and pride. "He is the only one who lead us to claim to our rightful place! But he alone is not enough, we need unity, for in unity there is--"

"Don't preach at me. A simple 'yes' would have been enough."

"…very well. Yes, I do." Varinia sighed, rising from her seat and stepping closer. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Decima, I want this change. For the charr. For you."

Decima startled as a hand softly touched her arm, turning instinctively to find herself transfixed by Varinia's bright blue eyes, glittering in the dim light of the grotto. A new memory tugged at the back of her mind, of warm youth and feelings left unspoken--long since buried, now drifting dangerously close to the surface. A time she yearned for nothing more than this gentle touch.

She tore herself away.

"…it's getting late. You should go."

"I… suppose you're right." Varinia reluctantly withdrew her paw and began to make her way towards the door. "Just… promise me you'll give this a chance. Come to the rally, hear what Bangar has to say, and make your own decision. You deserve that, at least."

"I'll think about it. Now, leave."

She paused at the threshold, casting a final glance over her shoulder at the gladium behind her.

"Trust me, sister. I'm offering you a place in the new world. You need only to come and take it."

---

Long after the other charr had left, Decima stood still in the doorway of her home, staring silently out into the darkening forest. A cold breeze threaded its way through the trees, ruffling her fur as it slipped past, carrying with it the promise of coming frost. The seasons were once again preparing to change.

Perhaps this time she would join them.

#gw2 #gw2 fanfic #charr #rhys writes about gw2 #c: decima soulspire #waugh. i am nervous about posting this.#hope you like indulgent fic about sad and fucked up cats #bc that's all i got babey

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mamashenanigans · 1 year

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COLD-OFA October Entry

DIES

I did it. I actually finished it just in time! Had to fight through an illness my whole family had right before the due date, but the damn thing is done!

This is my entry for @aimportantdragoncollector and @mcfanely’s One for All October event! The goal was to write a fic centered around AFO’s “dear” little brother, the young man with the most beautiful hair that somehow blows in the non-existent wind of the void within One For All: YOICHI!

This may not be everyone’s cup of tea as it IS a horror AU, but I thought it fitting for the month of October! Please read the tags on AO3 before continuing! I eat kudos and cuddle comments, so please leave me some!!

Do be sure to read the beginning and end notes for insight on the creation of this fic!

You can read it here: COLD

Oh, and here’s an excerpt from the story under the cut!

“I’m going.”

Big brother sat heavily on the beige leather recliner and continued his meticulous dressing. He had already pulled multiple layers of shirts and sweaters on and now wore a large and expensive coat over them. Tiers of pants with the outer one slick and shiny in its moisture-wicking fabric had been pulled on hastily. Now he worked diligently to tie his snow boots snugly against his numerous sock-encased feet.

Yoichi had followed him into the massive living room. He inclined to cover his eyes from the bombardment of light reflecting off the hoodwinked landscape that could still be seen beyond the feet of snow that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows, framed by expensive wood that made up the walls and ceiling of the extravagant space. The snowstorm had died down only slightly, allowing in what little light the mostly-covered sun could convey during the high point of the day. Flurries still blew past the windows and Yoichi was sure it would turn intense soon—if the memory of the last time he could check the weather was correct.

It had been a week since the brothers became trapped in this mountainside mansion. They had moved here in the spring, compelled by big brother’s business activities moving mostly to the United States, and weren’t prepared for the type of blizzards that swept through the area of the Great Lakes, nowhere near the less aggressive of those they had experienced in Japan.

No, that was an easy excuse.

Yoichi understood the truth: his brother had been too arrogant about the impending storm. He had gone to his older brother many times concerning this inevitability. The younger spent most of his days cooped up in this place anyway. His brother had always been oppressively protective—mostly because of Yoichi’s chronic illness that was spurred by a weak constitution at birth. He couldn’t remember a time before his brother was his sole caretaker. A provider that never came up short, but whose love wasn’t entirely unconditional. Yoichi would never scoff at his brother’s endless help and funding towards keeping him relatively healthy and comfortable, but that came with the cost of never being permitted far away from what his brother deemed safe. The young man had accepted this long ago because of a sense of guilt over asking for even more from a sibling that was practically his parent.

But he hadn’t relented with this. The tumultuous and predicted storm had shut them in and left their technologically advanced house inert. Yoichi had known about it for a while now, having too much time to not do so, but his brother hadn’t relented in his assertion that they would be fine. So convinced of his wealth, exemplified by the immense and well-built home, that he thought it would protect them from anything. It hadn’t. Instead, their power had gone out as the snow accumulated and the multiple generators ceased to work as they became hampered by the excessive solid water.

His brother had turned deaf to Yoichi’s worry and complaints about their poor provisions. They didn’t even have manual can openers to aid them in their now ravenous need for food. His brother had convinced himself that they had plenty and that a helicopter could easily bring them supplies to the specifically built landing pad at the far side of the monumental estate. His excuses only continued after it became apparent that no craft would dare risk a flight in such abominable weather.

So here they were, their rations almost gone and the cold creeping in through every imaginable crack to gnaw at their flesh and bones. For Yoichi, however, that insatiable hunger of the chill affected him the most.

#Katydid #mcfanely events #OFA October #one for all october #yoichi shigaraki #all for one #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha au #bnha au #horror fanfiction #tread carefully

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otsassemble616 · 1 year

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Sustainable Development Goals and the Community.

There are 17 Sustainable development goals. What is their purpose and how were they formed?

They were formed by countries all over the world, approximately 178, including developing and already developed countries. They focus on the greater picture of eradicating poverty in social, ecological, and infrastructural sectors. Thereby achieving world peace and equality. Although are these goals being implemented in everyday life by appropriate governmental organizations?

Often enough, we take our safety for granted. We see communities in newspapers and in the media which spread the news of violence and crime. citizens who do not live in those communities become shocked and frightened but for most residents, that is a part of their everyday life. Walking the roads of my community placement, children are hardly seen outside if not for them traveling to and from school. Besides schools and creches, there is no safe and controlled environment for members of the community to gather and interact.

So, targeting sustainable development goal 3, good health and well-being for all ages, my team of occupational therapy final-year students and I are creating a recreational area within the local library grounds, which has its own security, for all community members. For young children to engage in gross motor activities and for the elderly nostalgically relay stories of the past to the young and adolescents to engage with.

Using the recreational area, Sustainable Developmental Goal 9, industry, innovation, and infrastructure are attended to. As it is a permanent structure adding to the identity of the community, it also includes feedback from members within the community who will use the area productively.

Sustainable Development Goal 15, life on land, was implemented by reusing materials that have been discarded and polluted the community environment, such as, unusable tires and wooden pallets. This is applicable and will be incorporated into the recreational area, as these items will be productively reused.

Stigma regarding psycho-social and physical difficulties and seeking help is still evident within our South African context. People with psychiatric difficulties are mocked, in a high school, I had visited, a male student had asked, “Oh are you here for the one that had trauma?”, he then proceeded to laugh and walked away. In the early parts of the morning, we present health promotion talks to the crowds at the clinic. As soon as the word, “therapy”, is mentioned, an immediate response from those from the crowd is, “no, I am fine. I don’t need help.” This is based on the misunderstanding of psychiatric difficulties. Sakobe (2019), mentions that breaking the stigma is more challenging due to psychiatric illnesses and explanations not having direct translations, so it is often misunderstood.

Therefore, when using Sustainable development Goal 10 as inspiration, reduced inequalities, the realistic and functional everyday benefits are used to promote Occupational Therapy services. This is done without using words negatively associated with weakness before targeting ingrained throughs and beliefs supporting stigma associated with physical and psychiatric illnesses. Words like, “therapy”, disorder, illness, difficulty. Instead, use positive and promoting words such as, “improving” or “promoting”. The stigma was focused on promoting the societal acceptance of people with psychiatric and physical difficulties. Making them a part of the norm.

It is a regulated policy within South Africa that a child is only allowed to fail a grade once in every 4 grades. If a child is at risk of failing a second time in every 4 grades, they will be passed on to the next grade irrespective of their ability to cope with task demands within each grade. We are not directly impacting the effects of this policy. However, due to its utilization, many students within my community who have a history of developmental delays or learning disabilities are going unnoticed as they are swept underneath the carpet. During our community intervention, we aim to create a platform to assess and intervene with children whilst they are within these environments and would seek to disband these difficulties. This uses Sustainable Development Goal 4, quality education as a motivation.

We have tried our hardest to include these goals within our intervention at the community level. However, it is evident that not all health practitioners are doing the same.

It is assumed that if the world adheres to and follows the implementation and guidance of the 17 Sustainable developmental goals, the world becomes a safer and healthier place to thrive in. is this assumption correct? Would these goals not then need resources and funding that are not readily available to most countries? This is an applicable question as a vast majority of our project relies on sponsorships. How realistic is it to expect these goals to be achieved by the year 2030?

That, dear reader, is what I leave you to explore.

References:

United Nations, (2015). Transforming our world: the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development. Department of Economic and Social Affairs. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://sdgs.un.org/2030agenda

Van Der Berg, S., Wills, G., Selkirk, R., Adams, C., Van Wyk, C., (2019). The cost of repetition in South Africa. (Stellenbosch Economic Working Papers: WP13/2019). Retrieved from www.ekon.sun.ac.za/wpapers/2019/wp132019

Worster, A., (2022). An overview of the barriers to in-person therapy and viability of Internet-Based Cognitive Behavioural Therapy in the South African context: A counsellors’ perspective.

Swart, L., Buthelezi, S., Seedat, M., (2019). The incidence and characteristics of homicides in elderly compared with non-elderly age groups in. SAMJ Research, 109(6), 437-442.

Sankobe, Y., (2019). Mental Health in South Africa: A Journey of Self-Healing. Retrieved from https://www.socialconnectedness.org/mental-health-in-south-africa-a-journey-of-self-healing/

Huntsville Professional Counseling, (2021). WHY IS THERE A NEGATIVE STIGMA AROUND THERAPY? Retrieved from https://www.counselinghpc.com/blog/5/why-is-there-a-negative-stigma-around-therapy.

Hickel, J., (2020). The World’s Sustainable Development Goals Aren’t Sustainable. Retrieved from https://foreignpolicy.com/2020/09/30/the-worlds-sustainable-development-goals-arent-sustainable/

Bashiera, P., (2019). The Department of Education’s proposed no repeat policy for grade R to 3 will do more harm than good to the state of education in SA. Retrieved from https://www.news24.com/parent/learn/learning-difficulties/the-department-of-educations-proposed-no-repeat-policy-for-grade-r-to-3-will-do-more-harm-than-good-on-the-state-of-education-in-sa-20190610

BusinessTech, (2021). Big repetition problem at schools in South Africa: report. Retrieved from https://businesstech.co.za/news/government/516722/big-repetition-problem-at-schools-in-south-africa-report/

BusinessTech, (2023). Violent crime in South Africa is getting worse – here are all the latest stats. Retrieved from https://businesstech.co.za/news/lifestyle/665791/violent-crime-in-south-africa-is-getting-worse-here-are-all-the-latest-stats/

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morbid-epiphany · 1 year

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Okay here’s some writings from a while ago that I wrote. There’s no specific or special time frame for them, they’re all sort of old anyway and written at different points in time, sort of mixed. They’re also some delusional thoughts I had, when I’m not doing well.

A slow and painful death is what I deserve. I don’t care about beauty or if people find me beautiful. I know I’m not so it doesn’t matter what I do in the end. I just want to go out slowly and painfully, feeling every second of it.

If you leave, I don’t blame you, I would’ve left long ago too.

Are you tired of me yet?

I know you’ll get irritated and annoyed with how broken I am. I get it really, people tend to get the shiniest keepsake, not the broken worn out barely functional toy. If you ever do have to leave, it’s okay, I get it. I won’t blame you and I won’t beg you to stay. In fact, I wait for that day patiently. I know it will come soon, so I sit and wait.

Trying feels like drowning constantly, swimming to save others but not myself, I’m not worth saving but other lives need me to continue swimming and continue fighting for them, so that’s what I’ll do. I’ll continue struggling for my daily breath. I’ll continue living, until the day my body gives into the waves. I’ll be engulfed by them soon. The comfort of being surrounded by water, drifting into the depths of the abyss. No more pain, no more suffering. I’ll let out my last breath with a sigh of relief. I won’t have to keep kicking.

I’ll tell people I don’t want to talk about it, even if they push. If they pushed a little more, I’d spill what’s actually on my mind. It’s eating me up. I just need to know that person actually wants to listen, because any normal person will ask what’s wrong but not actually care. They’ll ask once, twice, maybe even three times. People will say they care but they said that to make you feel better or make themselves feel better. Push a little more and I’ll wear my heart on my sleeve, I’ll expose my back to the knife, I’ll tell you everything. It will take me a while to open up, because the tears are in my throat and my heart has hardened around itself, but I’ll open up. Just give me a second.

Not quite 1 or 2. Not in a group like 3 or 4. Not equal to 5 but not in a box like 6. 7. Not the number of the beast, but it’s not a holy number either. 7. Just a number. Nothing more, nothing less. Lucky number 7.

“You’ll get better. I’ll be here until you do.” What if I don’t? What if your waiting is in vain? A waste of time and effort? I don’t believe I’ll ever get better, but I’ll sure as hell try. I’ve tried with every fiber of my existence and I’ll continue trying until the day I draw my last breath. Maybe one day all that trying won’t be for nothing.

“You’re not mentally ill.” Am I not? Maybe if I take off my sweater, my comfort, you’ll see how desperately my insides show through my skin and scream for help.

I obviously don’t need treatment, it’s fine. I’ll just sit here while I slowly rot away.

It’s okay, I’m fine. You can’t see anything so I’m not struggling.

It’s scary being aware of my own delusions, knowing it’s slowly getting worse, being unable to do anything about it. It’s like sitting in a movie theater, watching your favorite character die on screen without being able to do anything.

Unliked, unlucky, to be feared. 13. I feel comfort within 13, luck even. I wish more people stopped seeing the number as bad intentions instead of what it was truly made for. Its meaning. In the end, it’s just another number, I just wish more people saw it that way.

I remember when I thought my thighs were bad, but now my arms are worse.

I’m scared people leaving me, like I’ve done to others throughout the years. Not a word said, no mercy. My own personal karma.

I want it to be deeper, enough for it to gape open. Then I’ll know I’ve finally learned my lesson.

People assume they’re the center of the universe, but they aren’t. Everyone is their own center. Whatever drives them to their own edge and desires is what’s the center of the universe to them.

Stop assuming I hurt myself because of you. I have my own shit to deal with, I wouldn’t hurt myself over a missed call or an unanswered text. I have my own hell I live in daily and shit like that doesn’t even scratch the surface of what I go through.

It’s cold and my arms feel empty.

I need to get better for myself, it will only get worse if I continue this.

It’s a bit sad that I take care of myself more on days where I do this. It’s ironic.

I hate how relieving it is to even think about doing it. It’s like letting out a deep breath.

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thewanderingbreath · 2 years

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the nights are getting colder, i’ve lost the warmth i thought i had. maybe it’s seasonal, i’ll be fine in a fortnight. maybe not.

months ago i would’ve been happily anticipating two weeks from now. a time of coming back after so long apart. back when i was naïve, blind. foolish trust, if you will. back when my mind thought otherwise, that life was a series of easy transitions and miracles.

back when believing was easier. when i had less questions and doubts, a security in knowing deep-rooted connections. though coincidences and “universe reminders” were heartwarming, it was purely coincidence. the music playing in the background, a passing sight of familiar scenes. it wasn’t a divine sign of fate. sometimes life really just is a series of coincidences to seek shelter in for that few moments.

i wonder how those who’ve lost something precious to them continue on in life. all the unanswered questions, the insecurities, the wanting to say “did you mean it when...”. what if they had one day to ask all they wanted? to a departed friend, if they had done enough in the other’s short life to justify their eternal memories of each other. the parent, whose child mourns regretfully for passing that rude remark, or thinking ill of them because of one small blunder. the lovers separated, either mutually or selfishly. the questions of whether they’ve found someone new, if they’ve been forgotten, if they meant whatever they did and said during the course of their short-lived romance.

it feels like a solemn, blank emptiness. all this. will there be anything that takes root in this barren land? a new pursuit, something exciting to look forward to? enough to not want to look back on the past. when i am outside of myself, i scoff at the triviality of the past months.

but i am consumed, more often than not. anger, disappointment, insecurity. i hurt others; they won’t have a chance to hurt me.

i see people’s hands intertwined with the ones they love. the physical act of “i’m here to look out for you”. i wish i could hold someone’s hand. it’s silly, i know. but i’ve never had anyone hold mine for long and vice versa. the life i thought i finally could begin ended too soon. it could be my inadequacy, or being “too much”. just for a moment in time, i wish someone had stayed. stayed so that we could’ve built our lives together. it’s never been as hard as it has, every experience was an undermining of the previous one. so close, but far away. an “almost” that didn’t survive.

the questions linger. the darkness stays. i don’t know if i will ever heal from whatever plenty i need healing from. everything feels all too much. the weight of grief has its way of suffocating its victims.

i wish it didn’t have to be like this. i really prayed it didn’t. sometimes, answers to prayers are “no”.

i’ve been forgotten. i stand on the sidelines and watch life’s opportunities pass me by. i’ll always be “that” girl, the one who has many grey areas with random boys, but never one that came through. maybe i’ll be “experiencing this same thing with another guy”. those were your words. how hurtful that you thought so little of me. i tried. i guess it wasn’t enough.

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horce-divorce · 2 years

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the irrational fear that my doctor's office is gonna put a cap on how many referrals I can ask for bc i am literally up in his face asking for referrals like once a week

previously it was gastro. last week it was gyno. this week it's cardiology. very soon it will be mental health, and also probably rheumatology, and then who the F knows

it's such a fine line to walk, being disabled and legit ill enough to need a whole team of specialists... but also trying not to look Too Needy so that they (abled ppl who dont share your symptoms) continue to assume that you are Really Ill and not Just Acting.

just a little tangent but did you know that the ppl who approve/deny disability claims are working an entry level position? did you know that? did you??? did you know???? that its an ENTry??? LEVEL??? POSITION???? determining if people are disabled or not????? and that even though they are incentivized to approve cases (believe it or not!) they are ALSO made to read dozens of cases per day and to skim through them quickly to make a snap judgement. after all that shit YOU have to do, the excruciating and humiliating detail you have to go into, and they are SUPPOSED to skim it and make a snap judgement. some random person in an entry level position who is probably abled and likely has no medical background. just though that was interesting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

it's just like w the fucking food stamps thing? I desperately want to be on food stamps but I don't qualify. why am I always on here begging for money, then? WELL, you see, I don't work 20hrs a week. I work maybe 5-10hrs week IF I can EVEN manage that. but when I do work, I make $15/hr (which I deliberately have to do by choosing very specific work, in order to make sure that my extremely limited energy/time is actually worth the pittance they're paying me. It is literally not worth my time to accept files that pay me less than that. I've done the math).

both of those things- working < 20hrs and making > $15- disqualify me from food stamps, even though what I'm REALLY working with is roughly $50-100 per month, when I'm lucky. I usually have less than that. my gross YEARLY income is less than 2,000$. even my counselor basically told me not to bother applying for food stamps, it's too tricky of a situation. I both "make too much money" and I "don't work enough and need to look for a job." Isn't that fucking HILARIOUS. I am such an enigma.

but I do still have to seriously consider applying for disability bc, SHOCKINGLY, I cannot actually live or buy groceries on < $100/mo. that's not "substantial gainful employment" and if I really have to go to court to prove that I'm doing it exclusively in my Loud Screaming Outside Surprise Danger Voice

it's like, in order to need help, you need to need help, but you need to not need TOO much help, or else we have to assume that you probably don't actually need help. does that help??????? screams

#me #medical stuff #if i am going to apply for disability i need specialists who are 'managing' me for every single aspect i am trying to claim.#i have to prove that i've had ongoing care for the whole time that I'm claiming to have been disabled #for each and every aspect #I claim PTSD is disabling? I need to show that ive been taking meds and going to therapy.#I claim MALS or POTS is disabling? I need a cardiologist backing me up.

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taketheringtolohac · 3 years

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I forgot how lonely being home is. And how seeing people costs money. And how people are busy. And like, how people sort of forget about me but it’s ok. And how I never get to go anywhere. And how I’m like always alone just ugh.

#oops im sorry all my followers from the last six months but im home again which means </3 its sad time again #it really does suck! it does! i miss being around people! i miss not seeing my family!#and like i know people are busy i do but also sigh i do just disappear when im not in the room huh #but its fine i will live through it and ill be done being here soon and ill being doing my job intern whatever stuff soon #but also im stressed about fin aid again and living situation next year and the credits i need to gain this summer #like how am i going to pay for that! how! what the fuck! i need to email susannah but jesus christ #im just tired. i am. i feel so bored and so tired and i am just here every day being bored and theres no one here who like cares abt me :/#and going places costs money! it does! its so much money! six bucks just to DO anything even go to the fucking park with someone!#cuz no one wants to fucking come up here for me either its always me who has to do things for other ppl and ugahsjdbsjdhsj im so tired of it #anyways at least the mints are good.#at LEAST the mints are good #roxy talks

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spencerreidsconverse · 3 years

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Bets With a Vegas Boy

summary: When Spencer and Reader make a bet with high stakes, their stubborn sides show, but when a consulting officer has his eyes on reader, Spencer has to step in.

word count: 4.9k

warnings: SMUT (breeding kink, daddy kink, a bit of degradation, semipublic sex,) unrequited flirting, criminal minds style violence, suggested cannibalism, reader has multiple tattoos

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: This took me forever to finish as I was on vacation! I hope you all enjoy it!

“Y/N, have you ever met Reid? You’re supposed to be smart, why would you willingly sign up for this?” You scoffed at JJ’s words. When Penelope Garcia is involved it seems that no news traveled slowly, proven by the entire BAU’s new knowledge of the bet you had made with boy genius after bickering about which of you was more clingy. “JJ, you really underestimate me that much?” She shook her head in disbelief “You know that’s not it, but come on Y/N! Seriously, he’s banned from every casino in Vegas! Why would you bet against that?” “JJ, he was banned because he can count cards. It’s not like we’re playing Black Jack for christ’s sake!” She weighed the idea for a moment and you could see the wheels turning in her head. “Okay that’s true, but still. He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. I seriously hope whatever he has in mind for your forfeit isn’t as bad as yours.” You laughed, imaging Spencer in the predicament you were positive he would be in the thick of by the end of the week.

“I think he’d look good with one, you don’t agree?” JJ rolled her eyes as you both made your way out of the elevator towards the glass doors. “That’s not my point Y/N, don’t you think it’s a little harsh? I mean he’s not like you, how do you know he’d even want one?” You smirked, remembering the first time you’d met Dr. Spencer Reid. You had been brought on to the team a few short years ago after an implemented policy that required an even amount of field agents so there were partners for every investigation. You thought it was a bit condescending, requiring the most brilliant minds in the nation to follow the buddy system, but it gave you a job and for that you were thankful. It had its perks though, one of which being your immediate pairing with Reid. You were as young as him and not far behind in brilliance. What you lacked in eidetic memory and forgein language fluency, you more than made up for in marksmanship and street smarts. You and Reid got along fine, even if it was a bit tense at first. He was thoroughly convinced he didn’t need a babysitter.

“I’m a grown man! Why would I need to be watched every second of the day? The last thing we need is a liability.” you remembered the words like it was yesterday. You had been approaching him from behind, and overheard his rant. “Well, technically since we’re the same age, I’d hardly consider myself a babysitter. Would you trust your child’s care with someone their age?” Spencer had turned himself around so fast he’d almost fallen off the desk he was perched atop. “Y-you must be Agent Y/N! It’s uh nice to meet you?” He cringed at the tone of his voice, and you burst out with giggles before shaking your head. “Don’t worry Dr. Reid, I understand it must be a difficult situation for you. I mean, if I were the resident genius I wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of being shown up either.” The dark-skinned woman who had previously been engaging him in his sour mood let out a surprised chuckle and you watched his face turn from embarrassment to shock and finally settle on disbelief. “Wh- Excuse me?” You felt your stomach begin to cramp as his reaction made you laugh further and you clutched your files against your chest. You fought to catch your breath for a few seconds before regaining your composure. “Excuse my reaction, Dr. Reid but I couldn’t resist. No hard feelings?” He nodded mutely and you saw a soft smile crack through his mock stern expression. You turned to introduce yourself to the woman next to him, Tara Lewis. You made small talk for a few more minutes while Reid scribbled away at his desk before Emily called all of you to the round table with a case.

Nerves had struck you then, and you stood frozen instead of joining Tara in her stride. “Y/N, everything okay?” You jumped slightly as you heard Reid’s voice from behind you. “Oh! Yes, sorry!” You moved out of his way, trying your best not to stumble over an empty desk and failing miserably. He stretched his hands out and caught you, much to your embarrassment. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you feeling ill?” You shook your head quickly. “No! No, I'm fine, really.” He looked into your eyes and you tried to ignore the sparks you felt deep in your chest. “Y/N you’re working with profilers now, lying that poorly will never work around here.” His joke succeeded in its attempt to lighten the mood and you let out a soft laugh despite your anxiety. “I’m just a little nervous I guess. I didn’t expect to have a case so soon.” He nodded and his thumb absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on your sleeve. “I understand. We all felt that way at first. I won’t say it’s easy, but we’re all here to support you. Take a few deep breaths.” You did as he instructed and you felt your nerves ease as he consoled you. “That’s better. Besides, what could you have to worry about? You have the best partner here.” You laughed, and he released your arm. “I’ll meet you in there.” and with that he left you standing there trying to lock down the feelings he had just arisen in you. “Nice Y/N, crush on your partner first thing. What a great start.” you muttered to yourself

A few moments later you joined the rest of the team at the table and quickly reviewed the case, before lifting off 45 minutes later to a small town in Georgia. Everything felt like a whirlwind and you did your best to keep up. True to what Spencer had said, the team helped you get your bearings and by the end of the night you were making great strides along with the rest of them. It was near midnight when Emily dismissed you all to the hotel a few blocks away to get a few hours of rest. You were thankful, having poorly attempted to drown your tiredness with watery coffee from the small pot at the station, and you made your way to the hotel as swiftly as you could manage. When you were all gathered in the lobby, Emily handed out the keycards and it quickly dawned on you how the room assignments would work. You tried to shake off the thought and prayed that the night would go quickly. It made sense to just put the partners together, it made keeping track of everyone easier and allowed for quick communication between the team. You told yourself all the reasons it was logical as you made your way up to your room.

Spencer left you to your thoughts, but he could see how hard you were focusing. He unlocked the door and the lights switched on as you both made your way towards your beds. You heard him ask you something, and turned awkwardly to face him “Sorry, what’d you say?” He looked at you, a mix of amusement and concern on his face. “I asked if you wanted to shower first. Are you okay?” “Oh! Yeah, thanks. I’m okay, just thinking about the case.” You hoped you had lied better this time and were relieved that he seemed to buy it. “Just try to shut your mind off of it for now, I know it’s hard. Trust me, you’ll feel much better when you’re refreshed.” You nodded at his words and pulled some pajamas out of your go-bag. “Thanks Spencer. I’ll try not to take too long.” He shrugged you off “No worries, take your time.” You shut yourself behind the door and tried to shake the feelings out of your head. “Get a grip Y/N. You’re being crazy.” You scolded yourself before showering. You hurried despite Spencer’s insistence and quickly made your way out of the shower to dry yourself off. You applied lotion to your ink-covered skin and slipped on your shorts and t-shirt before drying your hair as fast as you could and making your way out of the bathroom. You dropped your folded clothes on top of your bag, alerting Spencer that you were done.

“That was fast, you really didn’t have to-” his words died in his throat as he looked up from the file in his lap and caught sight of your legs, covered in the intricate artwork that stretched across the skin. You tried to ignore his watchful gaze. “It’s no problem! I wanted to save you some hot water.” He thanked you quietly and made his way to the bathroom hurriedly, trying not to look at you again. You tried to fall asleep but you couldn’t get him out of your head. A few more minutes passed and he made his way over to his bed, trying to will the awkward tension out of the room. You both eventually managed to fall asleep without speaking another word.

The tension continued to grow over the next few months and the rest of the team were getting sick of watching you two dance around each other. You both denied any advances, shot down the chance to go out on any of the numerous blind dates members of the team offered to set up, and chose instead to trade glances across the bullpen and divulge your personal lives over breakroom lunches. Eventually, they made plans for a team outing and convinced you both to attend. Penelope made reservations at a nice restaurant, announcing that everyone just had to try their food. That night however, you showed up to Spencer waiting awkwardly at a table for two in the back corner with a sour face. “Where’s the rest of the team?” You asked him, taking the seat across from him. “Apparently they’ve all had to cancel. Luckily, the reservation was for two.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion and you made a mental note to scold Garcia. “Well, since we’re here I’m happy to eat. I’m starving.” Spencer’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly, agreeing with you. After an evening of great food and better wine, the rest was history, and you found yourself thanking Garcia the next day instead. You and Spencer had been dating for just over two years now, though he’d be able to count it down to the second you’d showed up looking angelic at the restaurant that night. You both complimented each other perfectly and you had a relationship stronger than either of you could have dreamed of.

“Hello?? Y/N are you even listening to me?” JJ’s words and nudge against your shoulder brought you back to present day and you snapped your eyes back to her face. “Yes! Sorry JJ I was just thinking… Anyways, we’ve talked about it before. He loves all of mine, and he’s talked about getting one. He’s just afraid of the pain, and too indecisive to choose what he wants.” You blushed softly as you thought about the many nights spent in your shared bed, Spencer tracing the black lines with his fingertips. He adored them and thought they made you especially unique, not to mention he found them extremely sexy. He favored the black sun on your ribcage, shaded to perfection. Even when you were clothed he would run his hand along the fabric that covered the piece.

“Well still, if you do happen to win, I can’t imagine he’ll go along with it.” You smirked and shook your head. “We’ll see about that JJ.” You both sat at your desks, and began to work through your piles of paperwork. You were thankful there was no case that needed your immediate attention, but paperwork always made you feel like a nap by the time lunch came around. You pushed yourself away from your desk, and stood to find yourself nearly chest to chest with your boyfriend who had stood at the same time. “Oh, sorry Spence. I just need coffee.” You maneuvered your way around him, missing the way he would usually grab your hips to aid you. He followed you to the break room and you poured him a cup as well leaving plenty of room for sugar. Instead of handing it to him with a quick peck on the cheek however, you left it on the counter to be picked up. “You really think you can go a week without touching me?” You heard his voice from the doorway. “It’s already been 3 days.” You said uninterestedly with a shrug, and he eyed you suspiciously. “Okay fine, no. I just think I can go longer than you can.” You finally admitted, smirking back at him.

He grabbed the mug from the counter, adding several teaspoons of sugar before taking a sip. “We’ll see about that. You’re the one that’s always curling yourself around me.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh yeah, like you hate it. You’re the one that’s always rubbing my back and holding my hand under tables. Even when we’re on the metro home you’ve got your hand in mine.” He narrowed his eyes at you and stuck his tongue out, making you chuckle. “Very mature Dr. Reid. I can’t wait to win.” He opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by Luke who stuck his head in to alert you both of the new case you’d be working. You let out a long sigh. “So much for paperwork.” The three of you made your way to the round table and sat, Spencer curling his hand into a fist to keep himself from subconsciously reaching over to place his hand on your leg.

“So, we are assisting in a local case this time, with Washington state PD about a string of murders in the homeless community. However, there’s been hefty construction in their field office so they will be joining us here.” Penelope quickly took the lead after Emily’s announcement and filled you all in about the details. She ran through the few details the local PD managed to uncover on their own and the team had only managed a few minutes of brainstorming when a group of police officers made their way through the glass doors of the BAU. There were only a handful of officers which surprised all of you, and Emily led the rest of you out of the conference room, beelining her way to the chief. “Hello, Landon. It’s nice to see you again.” She shook his hand briefly. “Likewise Emily, though I wish it was under different circumstances.” “As do I. I’m sorry for the miscommunication, I was under the impression that your entire force would be joining us. Is that not the case?” The chief, Landon Bridges you now knew him as, shook his head. “We knew you had a pretty tight space and we have a lot of members. I brought a few people from each department and figured it’d be easiest to fill everyone else in periodically. We didn’t want to overflow your space and leave no room to work.” Emily nodded and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought, thank you. This is the rest of my team. SSAs Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alves, Matt Simmons, David Rossi, Y/N Y/L/N, Drs Spencer Reid and Tara Lewis, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You all gestured as Emily quickly introduced you, and a short time later you were all acquainted and working throughout the bullpen. You and Spencer were just beginning to start the geographical profile when one of the Washington police officers, Kline, made his way over to you. “Pardon me agents, do you need any help?” You looked up from your section of the grid lines and smiled at him which he returned brightly, but before you could answer, Spencer dismissed him. Kline’s face fell slightly but he nodded and made his way over to where Tara and Luke were reviewing the last known areas of the victims.

You turned and stared at Spencer in disbelief. He looked up after a few seconds, feeling your eyes burning a hole through the top of his head. “Yes?” You glared at him harder, before railing into him in a hushed tone “Don’t ‘yes?’ me. That was insanely rude. They’re here to help us! Quit acting all high and mighty.” He stared back at you and you saw the stubbornness light up his eyes. “Why should I? We could solve this case twice as fast without them getting in the way.” He knew he was talking too loud, and was more than aware of Kline who was staring at his back with a sour look resting on his face. “Spencer! I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to fix it. You’re being an ass.” He rolled his eyes and you both let out a sigh before looking back down at the maps covering the desktop beneath you.

A few hours passed before you and Spencer finished the geographical profile, and you gestured Kline over to ask him a few questions about the area you’d narrowed down. Spencer noticed he had made his way to your side and bit his lip to keep himself silent. “Officer Kline, can you tell me anything about this area of the block? It seems like a lot of our victims were last seen in this area.” He eyed the map where red ink stained the paper and pondered for a few seconds. “Well, there’s not much out there really. A few older shops and some construction to the east” he gestured to the empty spot of land on the map “but nothing of real interest. We don’t usually get calls for the homeless population over here either. There’s not really much shelter so they don’t usually go towards this way” Your brow furrowed and you nodded, thanking him but before he could get another word in Spencer piped up. “Kline, if the homeless population doesn’t “Go that way” he mocked the officer in front of you, and Kline tensed up in response “then why are they all disappearing from the area? Does that make sense to you?”

Kline struggled to respond and you glared at Spencer before assuring Kline there was no need for him to pay Spencer any mind, excusing his behavior with a rambling about late nights and too little coffee. Kline walked away and you stared Spencer down for several seconds before making your way towards the main group to deliver the geographic profile, leaving Spencer to sulk. You continued to avoid Spencer until you were sent out to investigate the block you sectioned off with Emily and JJ. You opted to drive which left Spencer in the passenger seat, fuming at your silent treatment and JJ and Emily trying to fight the tension in the SUV to no avail.

You parked the SUV a few blocks away and the four of you walked the rest of the way to avoid raising too much suspicion. You were standing in the center of the unsubs hot zone when you noticed a line of people clustered in front of one of the more rundown buildings. The building had wide front windows that had been taped over with brown paper, as well as the glass doors. You and Spencer approached the group warily, trying to get closer to see the poorly written signs on the door.

“DISCOUNT MEAT - PRE-COOKED”

“12pm-12am”

You gestured Emily and JJ over and the four of you quickly aimed to disperse the crowd much to their displeasure. After several minutes of arguing and multiple badge flashes you managed to succeed and stood outside the door ready to investigate once the owner opened his doors. Fifteen minutes had passed without any sign of movement from the inside and Spencer began to shift anxiously, causing you to do the same. A few more seconds passed and you heard the locks on the door click, reaching your hand around to rest on your holster automatically. As soon as the door opened, Emily pushed through holding her badge and announcing the reason for your investigation.

The shop owner immediately demanded you leave and not return unless you had a warrant. “Actually, because this is no longer a registered business it becomes property of the town and therefore is subject to any kind of local or national investigation under Property law 14, sections 3a-3f go more in depth about the issue if you feel the need to verify.” Spencer explained the situation while sifting through the counter drawers, leaving the man to sit in silent rage while Emily and JJ questioned him. You bent over to fiddle with a padlock on a hollowed bench seat on the far wall and pulled one of the pins out of your hair to pick it. A few seconds of tampering later, the lock gave way with a satisfying click and you pulled the bench open. A rancid smell hit your nose and stomach before you could process what you were seeing. Body parts were wrapped in butcher's paper and poorly taped, and you fought to keep your breakfast down as you slammed the bench shut. Emily then stood the man up and cuffed him, while reciting the miranda rights. JJ followed her out and you followed her quickly, trying and failing to erase the memory from your mind.

Back at the office, the rest of the team and several of the officers had already begun processing the unsubs case and there was little left to be done by the time you returned. You filled out your files and quickly wrote out your account of the incident before heading to the breakroom for a cup of coffee. You pulled your mug down from the shelf and pressed your favorite individual pod into the machine and pressed the button to let it run. You were digging in the fridge for your creamer when a deep voice startled you

“Little late for coffee isn’t it?” You turned swiftly to find Kline standing in the doorway and you let out a small sigh. “When you work like we do, it’s never too late for coffee” You smiled and made your cup to your taste, taking a long sip. You expected Kline to just grab what he wanted and leave, but instead he continued to make awkward conversation despite you going so far as to begin scrolling through your phone. “So, that Spencer guy is really a piece of work huh?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes and instead remained focused on your screen, telling yourself that he just didn’t get the chance to see the good side of Spencer like everyone else there had. “He’s really not a bad guy, he’s just had a long day. We all have.” Kline nodded but moved closer to you, so close that you could smell his headache-inducing cologne. “I’m just saying, if I had the opportunity to work with you every day, I wouldn’t waste my time arguing with you. I’d treat you right.”

You shifted uncomfortably, praying he would pick up on your uneasiness and back off but instead he moved to corner you against the counter. You tried to excuse yourself but your voice caught in your throat.

“Kline, I really overestimated you. I figured even a man as dimwitted as yourself would be able to tell when a woman isn’t interested but here we are.” Your head snapped up towards the doorway where Spencer was standing. Kline turned around and prepared himself to tell your boyfriend off when he froze. Spencer had the look in his eye that sent chills down your spine and made it very aware to Kline that there was no use fighting. He quickly left the room and you and Spencer held eye contact for several seconds before he spoke again “Meet me in the storage room at the end of the hall in 2 minutes.” His voice made your legs feel weak and you nodded, dumping the contents of your mug down the drain, keeping your pace in check as you slipped into the hallway.

You had barely unlatched the door when Spencer pushed it the rest of the way open and you felt yourself being dragged into the dimly lit space. You barely had time to let out a surprised squeak when you felt his lips against your throat, turning your noise into one of pleasure. His kisses quickly turned sharp, applying the expertly rehearsed amount of pressure to avoid marks but to still send shockwaves of heat to your core. “Spence” his name left your lips in a whine while he busied himself unbuttoning your blouse. “Spencer, you just lost the bet.” You felt a smirk grow across your face that disappeared as he hiked your skirt up to your hips while rubbing your clit through your panties. “Fuck the bet, Y/N. I’m sick of seeing you walk around here clueless. You know I’ve been all over Kline’s ass, little girl?” His voice dropped lower and he lifted you up to push you against the wall. “It’s because he couldn’t stop looking at yours.” You let out a moan as he pushed your panties to the side, slipping two of his fingers into you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet. Did me getting all protective of you turn you on? You like making daddy jealous?” You shook your head as well as you could manage, trying to keep your volume in check. “Answer me pet, or you’re not gonna get daddy’s cock in you like I know you’re desperate for.” You whimpered at his words “No! I-I wasn’t trying to make you jealous daddy I swear!” You stuttered as he began to spread you further with his fingers. He smiled against the exposed skin of your chest before removing his fingers. “That’s my good girl. You ready for daddy?” You nodded as he fiddled with his belt buckle, moaning in anticipation as he released his cock from his slacks. You bit your lip as he ran the tip over your folds, sucking in a harsh breath as he pushed himself deep inside you. He let you adjust for a moment while he sucked at your neck again. “Daddy, please move. Please, I need you.” He let his hips move, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming you forward into the wall again. You let out a moan as he thrusted in and out of you. You felt like your skin was on fire, the lack of touch over the past days made everything more intense.

A few more minutes passed and you felt yourself growing dangerously close to the edge. “Spence I’m gonna cum” you felt his pace grow even more rapid and he circled your clit with his thumb. “I’m gonna cum inside you angel. I’m gonna fill you up with my kid. You want that huh? Want everyone to know that you belong to me, don’t you?” You moaned at his words “God yes, please daddy. Please cum inside me!” You felt his hips stutter under you and a familiar warmth as you finally climaxed. Your toes curled and your head fell back against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“God Y/N that was amazing.” You let out a soft whimper as he pulled out of you and lowered you back down to your feet. He kissed you, pulling you closer than before. “I love you Spencer. Only you.” He touched the tip of his nose to yours and returned your words, while you both caught your breath. A few minutes later you both exited the closet, and tried to smoothly make your way back to your desks. Washington PD had finished the bureau required paperwork and had already left so things were much quieter.

You had just sat down when JJ looked up from her computer. “So Spence, whatcha gonna get?” His head snapped up and your cheeks flushed. “Wh-What?” he managed to stutter out. “From the diner? Garcia said she would run out and get dinner.” You both let out simultaneous sighs of relief and told her what you wanted, settling in for a long night.

The next weekend you had free, you found yourselves in one of your favorite spots. The low pitched buzzing added to Spencer’s anxiety as he tried to divert his focus to the bright neon signs. You held his hand, stroking it with your thumb as you waited for your tattoo artist and best friend, Vannessa, to finish Spencer’s design. You tried to distract him but before long she called you back to the table and you heard his breathing quicken. You helped him get settled on the table while Vannessa applied the stencil. She adjusted it until Spencer and you both approved and then she started. Spencer tightened his grip on your hand as she traced the lines while you murmured words of encouragement in his ear. Half an hour later, she was running Spencer through the after care process while wrapping his forearm up. You paid her and made your way out of the shop after thanking her.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, you watched as Spencer carefully maneuvered his way into the car, fastening his seatbelt and resting his arm against the door. The streetlight shining through his window highlighted his forearm perfectly, revealing the perfectly mimicked shape of a shaded black sun.

963 notes · View notes

besanii · 3 years

Note

Oka so lxc has feelings. Amazing. How and when did he realise them?? Does wwx know?? How does he feel?? Are they gonna tell wangji?? Ahhhhhh i am dying thank you so much

[ part one (LWJ) | two (LXC) | three (WWX) | four (LWJ) | five (NQY) ]

Lan Xichen doesn’t touch him. Not the first night, nor any other night he has called upon Wei Wuxian in the month after he enters the inner palace.

Even though Wei Wuxian cannot help but be somewhat relieved—truth be told, he had been dreading that particular aspect of his duties as a consort—he knows it will have to happen eventually. Even if Lan Xichen himself insists there is no need, people are already talking, speculating on the true nature of their relationship, questioning whether there are ulterior motives behind his new status as an Imperial consort.

You must serve the Emperor well, Jiang Cheng’s most recent letter had read. Do not give them any opportunity to pull you down.

With Jiang Fengmian severely ill and unlikely to recover, the management of Yunmeng’s affairs have fallen onto Jiang Cheng’s shoulders under the guidance of his mother. And while Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan’s reputations maybe enough to keep Yunmeng’s adversaries at bay for now, if—when Jiang Fengmian passes, Yu Ziyuan alone would not be enough to fend off the vultures already circling around them, eager to be first in line to tear out a piece of the fresh meat.

Wei Wuxian crumples the letter in his hands.

He should be there with Jiang Cheng, supporting him, watching his back. Helping him forge his standing amongst the older generation of nobility. Doing what he can—what he must—to defend against those who wish to harm the ruling family of Yunmeng, as a loyal vassal should.

Instead he is here in the capital, trapped in the gilded cage of the Imperial harem, his wings well and truly clipped.

Consorts are forbidden from interfering with politics on pain of death.

It is the first cardinal rule of being an Imperial consort, and the one used to placate Qishan in the aftermath of his confrontation with Wen Chao. It is frustrating, to say the least—all his years of studying and training to one day become a pillar of support for both Yunmeng and Jiang Cheng gone to waste—but he contents himself with the fact that he is alive. And as long as he is alive, he will find a way to live.

“Wuxian.”

There is something deeply intimate in the way his name falls from Lan Xichen’s lips, something soft and gentle that stirs warmth in the recesses of Wei Wuxian’s chest, in the hollow left behind by Lan Wangji. It is immediately chased away by the guilt that curls in pit of his stomach at the thought, so he does not allow himself to dwell on it for too long. He schools his expression and turns to pay his respects.

“Your concubine greets Huangshang.”

Lan Xichen is helping him upright with hands under his forearms before the words have fully left his lips; when he raises his head, he is greeted by the sight of Lan Xichen’s smiling face. He feels his own lips tug upwards in response.

“Huangshang looks to be in a jovial mood today,” he observes. “Will you share the good news with your concubine so that your concubine may also have something to celebrate?”

“Good news indeed,” Lan Xichen agrees. “Come, sit with me.”

He lets Lan Xichen lead him over to the table in the centre of the sitting room with a hand on his lower back and takes a seat, waiting patiently for Lan Xichen to settle himself in the seat beside his. The servants back out of the room at a wave of his hand, leaving the two of them alone. Lan Xichen takes his hand in both his, brushing his thumb tenderly over his knuckles with a tenderness that has Wei Wuxian’s heart tightening in his chest.

“Wuxian,” he says gently. “I know it has been difficult for you to be confined here in the Inner Palace for the last three months.”

“Huangshang...” Wei Wuxian feigns a smile. “Huangshang does not need to apologise. Your concubine understands the necessity.”

“I knew you would,” Lan Xichen says with a sigh. He squeezes Wei Wuxian’s hands. “Envoys from the Northern border tribes arrived today with their yearly tributes. Including fifty of their finest war horses.”

Wei Wuxian nods. “A generous tribute indeed,” he agrees. “I have heard the horses bred on the Northern plains are taller, stronger and faster than the ones we have here in Gusu. I’ve always wanted to see one for myself—”

“Is that so,” Lan Xichen says, patting the back of Wei Wuxian’s hand, expression deceptively thoughtful. The almost...playful tone catches Wei Wuxian’s attention at once.

“Huangshang,” he says slowly, suspiciously. “Would you perhaps be hiding something from your concubine?”

His suspicions grow with the twinkle in Lan Xichen’s eyes.

“Come with me and find out.”

He’d forgotten the feeling of the wind in his hair, the thrum of hooves pounding in the dirt beneath his feet, the warmth of the sun on his face as he throws his head back with an exhilarated laugh. The black stallion he’s riding tosses its head with a grunt, panting with exertion. Wei Wuxian pats its mane and tugs them both around to wait for Lan Xichen to join them.

“Wuxian,” Lan Xichen calls as soon as he is within earshot. “I see your horsemanship skills have not waned in the slightest. I willingly concede to your superior skills.”

“Huangshang is just out of practice,” he laughs, nudging his horse against Lan Xichen’s own. “And I cannot take all the credit. This is such a fine horse—I felt as though I were flying!”

He laughs again, loud and joyous, feeling as light as air. The hills beyond the outskirts of the city are reserved for Imperial use, so they are blessedly alone. Even the attendants have been ordered to remain in the palace, leaving only a small retinue of Imperial guards trailing behind them in the distance, enough to be within view, but completely out of hearing range. It is easy to forget the shackles of the palace, to pretend as though he is once again Wei Wuxian, the ward of the Marquis of Yunmeng, and not Wei Wuxian, the consort.

“I am glad you like it,” Lan Xichen tells him. “It is yours.”

Wei Wuxian whirls around, jaw dropping.

“Huangshang!” he gasps. “You cannot be serious—” He catches himself and his lack of composure, and clears his throat. “Huangshang, as the people say, one should not accept a reward without due. Your concubine has done nothing to deserve such a generous gift. I dare not accept it.”

Lan Xichen laughs and waves away his protests.

“After witnessing the way the two of you flew across the hills as though you would be one with the wind, there can be no other person more suited to taming this creature.” He reaches over to brush a stray wisp of hair back from Wei Wuxian’s face; his fingers linger over the arch of his cheek. “From now on, should you desire to ride again, I will accompany you.”

His touch is feather-light, fingers barely grazing, but Wei Wuxian feels it spark and tingle, vibrating beneath his skin like a plucked string, rippling through his entire body, freezing him in place. His heartbeat quickens and his face warms.

He is the Emperor.

He is only doing this out of pity, he reminds himself firmly.

He is your husband. Is it not improper.

It is, the other part of him insists. It is improper. It has only been three months—

He is kind. And he is honourable. Would it be so bad?

The sound of thundering hooves breaks the fragile silence between them. Lan Xichen sighs and withdraws his hand, curling it into a fist briefly before bringing it back to his side; if Wei Wuxian had not known better, he would have thought he looked annoyed by the interruption. But then the moment passes and the Emperor is back, expression level as the soldier pulls up alongside them and swings off his horse onto his knees.

“Huangshang, urgent report from the front.”

“What is it?” Lan Xichen asks calmly.

“It’s Hanguang-wang.” Wei Wuxian stiffens and turns, startled, to meet Lan Xichen’s equally wide eyes. “He’s alive!”

buy me a ko-fi!

more paper-thin fic | verse

#mdzs #my writing #wangxian #xixian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #paper thin fic #薄命 #王爺機 x 妃子羡 #皇帝曦 x 妃子羡 #consort!wwx #emperor!lxc #prince!lwj #lan wangji x wei wuxian #lan xichen x wei wuxian #lwj is only mentioned but still #imperial au #harem au

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kiatheinsomniac · 3 years

Note

1. I LOVE your writing! You're amazing! 2. If it's not too much trouble, could I request something where Ezio's wife is feeling quite insecure because she feels like she isn't as good as some of the other women Ezio has "been" with like Caterina and Ezio is trying to assure her that she shouldn't feel like that

Of course!! Sorry that it's taken me so long to get round to this, I've hardly been active on Tumblr at all in quite a while but I miss it here :(

She glanced over to where the Contessa was being checked over by a doctor while Ezio worriedly looked over her. Deep down, she knew that he was only concerned because she was a powerful ally to the brotherhood and her arrest at the hands of the Borgia had put her contribution to that alliance in jeopardy. But she couldn't help but fear that he was worried because they had a history together.

Claudia had told (Y/n) enough of what her husband was like in his youth - romancing every attractive woman he laid eyes on. On good days, this made her feel special - she were the one he married, after all - but on worse ones, it made her worry that he felt he could do better and go back to some of these women. Ezio was a faithful man, especially when it came to family, but this didn't stop her from worrying that she may not quite reach what he's been treated to by other women in his past.

She must have been glaring a little too hard though, because soon enough, Claudia was by her side, her arms folded.

"The woman is fine, I have a meeting to attend and he’s holding it up to fuss over her.” She snapped in disdain, her voice lowered as to not carry across the stone walls of Isola Tiberina’s Assassin hideout.

“I don’t like it.” (Y/n) confessed, her eyes shooting daggers at the Contessa of Forli. Claudia raised a brow at the acid in her tone, finding it so unlike her sister-in-law to be so bitter. Glancing over at Claudia’s expression of surprise, she stepped her way out of the conversation to go and fetch Ezio. He had duties as Mentor of the Brotherhood and she had the claws of jealousy tying knots at her like a marionette. Emotions were something personal to (Y/n) and she wouldn’t watch herself become a wreck over some half-disgraced woman who had lost hold of her city.

She could remember Ezio telling her how impressed he was to see a woman running a city all on her lonesome once...

She cleared her throat, dismissing the thought as she did.

“Ezio, our contacts are waiting for you.” She spoke up, her face and voice the mask of business to hide her feelings.

“Sì, I just-”

“Bartolomeo has barracks to attend to, Volpe has a tavern to maintain and Claudia has a brothel to run.” She cut him off, watching as he turned his head quickly to face her, his expression a lock of shock and offence, “While they wait for you, their factions wait for them. You keep our entire Brotherhood on hold in a most dire hour to fuss over the Contessa who I’m sure if capable enough of getting her own health in order with the medico.” Ezio had stood now from Caterina’s side, bewildered at his wife’s ill temper.

“Amore-“

“You have a job to do so go do it!” She snapped, “I have recruits to attend to and correspondence to deal with.” And with that said, she stormed off to the study in order to deal with the letters sent from the Brotherhood’s contacts across Italia.

She set the few recruits that she had gathered in Roma some training assignments and filed through all the available contracts in the Mediterranean, even going as far as to reorganise all the books of the study’s library. All of this was done to avoid going to bed, knowing that Ezio would be there and knowing that he wold ask her about her attitude from earlier.

It was when she was obsessively trying to get the paperweights in position that the door opened. In stepped the last man that she was willing to face in that moment: her poor husband who had suffered the brunt of her lashing out in jealousy.

“Gioia,” He began, his tone soft yet cautious, “come to bed.”

“But I need to sort these out…”

“I’m sure that the papers won’t grow wings and start flying any time soon.” He walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder and inhaling deeply as he pressed his face to her neck, “Come, I want to hold you and talk.”

“I just need...” She obsessively tried to get the weight to fit between the lines of the letter perfectly, some part of her mind telling her that everything would be alright if all these little things were exactly where they needed to be, that she wouldn’t have to talk about her feelings if she just got these other things sorted out first.

“You need to lay down with your husband,” One of his palms splayed across her stomach, tenderly rubbing up and down as his other hand caressed her waist, “and let him hold you in his arms,” A soft kiss pressed to the nape of her neck, “and tell him all about what has you so stressed. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Yeah, except the talking about my feelings bit.” She mumbled as the weight refused to quite fit between the lines, tears pricking her eyes, even if she tried to laugh a little. Ezio hummed knowingly.

“Come on…”

“Ok...” She surrendered, letting him lead her upstairs with one arm around her waist while his free hand held her own, smaller, hand in his.

He lead her up to their room where he began to strip her of her clothes that day, leaving her in a chemise. He frowned in sadness at her apathy, the way she didn’t melt into his touches as she usually would, and worry set into his veins.

He pulled her to the bed where he lay beside her, propped up on one elbow while she laid on her back, her bottom lip trembling, eyes glassy and jaw held tight in determination to keep a cool composure.

“What has upset you?”

“It’s stupid.” She replied simply, “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you or worried you, you don’t deserve that.” She took in a quick breath and covered her face with her hands, a small sob escaping her lips, each one that followed like a pair of scissors to his heartstrings.

“If it’s making you feel this way, it can’t be stupid.” He rested a hand on her arm and she turned away from him, her hand gripping the case of the pillow under her head impossibly tightly.

“It’s the Contessa.” She mumbled into the plush pillow, her cheeks already heating up in humiliation, “The way you risked your life to save her today and then you were fussing over her health and...”

“Amore, you know that I would do all the same and more for you.” He spoke, almost in disbelief that this is what she was so upset about. There was a long silence as she wrapped her arms around her torso, hoping that somehow she could physically hold herself together with her arms.

“Why did you marry me?” Fresh tears wet her cheeks and she muffled the sound of her crying in the sheets. He drew closer to her and held her in his arms, feeling her frame jolt with each sob.

“Because I’m in love with you.” He replied simply, “I’m in love with the way you see the world and people, I’m in love with your passion and humour and intelligence.” He squeezed her tightly.

“But you could have had any woman you pleased, any woman you’ve been with before. The countess of Forli: the only woman strong enough to run her own city and even fend off Borgia armies.” She hesitated but now that she had bottled up such strong emotions all day, the glass had cracked and no one could hold in its contents lest they slice their hands on the glass. “And don’t think I didn’t overhear that night back in Monteriggioni when I was still just the decipherer Leonardo had sent for the codex pages.”

Once upon a time, this would have been a time for Ezio to be boastful, but now that he was a married man, he only felt rather embarrassed instead. Looking away for a moment, his eyes came back to land upon his wife.

“You worry that you don’t live up to the women I’ve had before then?” He asked cautiously, knowing that this question may well only make things far worse if he were wrong.

“She’s a fucking countess who runs her own city and has her own armies, not to mention the fact that she’s also very clearly good in bed. Who am I? The goddamn babysitter of all the recruits.” She threw her hands up in the air before rolling onto her back and turning her head to face him, at last, with teary eyes.

“You, amore mio,” He began, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek, turning his body even more so in her direction, “are the woman who stole my heart so quickly, that I simply couldn’t wait to marry you.” It was true, they had only been seeing each other for just over 18 months when he asked her to marry him. “You’re an Assassin who is fighting for everyone in Roma and then all of Italia behind her borders.” A conviction began to grow within his voice as he took up her left hand in his, holding it up so that she could see her wedding and engagement rings. “You are the only woman in this world that I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He brought her hand up to place a kiss upon her knuckles. “I have had histories with women before, we both know this… But they are the past and you,” He leaned down to place a soft kiss upon her lips, lingering and tender, “are my future.”

A small smile quivered upon her lips as fresh tears welled in her eyes, tears of an overwhelming sentiment of love.

“I love you with all my heart, Ezio.”

#Ezio #ezio auditore da firenze #ezio auditore #ezio's family #ezio assassins creed #ezio x reader #ezio auditore fanfiction #ezio auditore imagine #ezio auditore x reader #ezio auditore da firenze x reader #ezio/ reader #ezio auditore/ reader #im back on my fanfic shit bitches

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psychewithwings · 3 years

Text

Pt. 1 A Visitor... Once Again Kirishima x Goddess!reader

hello hello, this is my contribution to this months bnharem collab! The theme was ‘mythology and lore’ and hit very close to my ancient greek loving soul. We have so many wonderful writers and artists that have worked hard so pls check out the rest of the collab here!!!

I’ve been rather ill and so I’ll be breaking it up into parts, part 2 will be out as soon as I am feeling more myself (which will hopefully be next week). Please enjoy a story about 2 of my favourite characters. Kirishima Eijirou, as his hero self (tho with a demi-god twist) and reader! as Kalypso, the goddess, daughter of Atlas, the titan who holds up the sky. Her curse is that she is forced to live alone on an island and fall in love with any visitor who falls to her shores. Once she falls for them, she is forced to ask if they would like to stay and she may grant them immortality if they say yes, and if not? They may leave. They have no way of leaving the island until she falls in love. She is a kind and wonderful character and I have a lot of love for her, (perhaps I relate to her a bit too much) so it is an honor to tell a new version of her story.

This is set in present day even tho Kalypso is an ancient greek figure, Kirishima is about 25-28 here? Pro hero Kiri!

TW: a small sex scene in the beginning, little bit of dirty talk, penetration

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“Fuck, thats it baby, feel it going all the way inside? Feels good right?” You moan into his neck, “s-so good.” He starts to thrust in and out slowly. Your nails dig into the muscles of his back… his… names and faces are unimportant blurs as he continues to thrust inside. Each drag of his cock hits each sweet spot and taps against your cervix. “Fuck~ you feel so fucking good darling, so-fucking-good, perfect, fucking perfect… yeah that's it clamp down on my cock, massage it with that perfect pussy.” His hand slips between your sweat soaked bodies and rubs quick circles over your clit. “Gonna cum for me baby? I can feel it, you’re about to gush~” You cry into his neck, soft tears of ecstasy hitting his skin. You’re close, so very close-

“Hello? Hey!!! Is anyone home?? Hello?”

You open your eyes and the man above you, the cock inside you, all falls away. It had all been a dream… a delicious, wonderful dream. A dream that had been ruined by an incurable racket. You stare groggily at the ceiling. The ache in your core of having been so close to cumming now boils into a rage. “Hello?!?! Is someone here? Hello??” Your brow crinkled in confusion as to who the rasping voice belonged to. You check to see if you had somehow managed to flip the tv on but the screen was dark. “Does anyone live here?” It dawned on you then… It’s a visitor.

You check the clock that blinks 5:37AM. You groan into a pillow and kick your legs in an attempt to relieve the ache. Your bare thighs are covered in your arousal, which has turned into your frustration. You stay lying still in hopes that he will go away, leave you alone, never return. “HELLO????!?!” But he had to stop screaming and it didn’t seem like he was going to until he came into contact with someone… You knew the nature of the curse well enough at this point but you would try to rebel as long as you could…

You flip the covers off of your body and slowly walk to grab a robe to cover yourself with. You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror while you finish tying the robe. “We got this,” you point to yourself, “no falling in love this time, no falling in love no matter what, ever again, you hear me?” You nod back to yourself. “Pinkie swear.” You touch pinkies with the mirror and laugh coldly. “No more foolish love,” you sarcastically remark before opening the french doors and stepping onto the balcony.

You stare down at the man who had been shouting for so long and your heart drops. He’s beautiful, red hair hanging in his face, still wet with the sea. His body must have been designed by the muses and chiseled by delicate hands. It’s clear even through his clothes. Son of Ares? Or even Zeus perhaps? He is interesting, never had you seen a demigod with such clear physical strength and kind eyes. The combination was rare. He gives you a grin which then fades to surprise. “Oh- I am so sorry, my manners,” he laughs nervously before slowly kneeling on the ground. “Great Goddess, I humble myself now in front of your grace and all encapsulating beauty…” You roll your eyes hoping he will take the hint and shut up. It wasn’t any different from the men before him… It was the same shit as always, though you were disappointed, this one seemed different upon first glance. “...your magnificence is profound, you are both elegant and ethereal in your just standing there-” you cut him off before he can continue the asinine speech. “Ya done?” you ask bluntly.

His eyes grow wide and he softly utters a “what?” You roll your eyes and lean on the gold railing. “Dude, it’s 5am, you’re yelling and ranting, can ya just get to the point?” He remains on his knees in a bow. His pitch varies with confusion as he speaks. “My ship, uhh I crashed it on your shore, and I was hoping that you could umm, maybe assist me in getting home? I-” he hangs his head for a moment, perhaps in exhaustion before continuing. “I have no GPS, no compass, not even a map… if I could do it without bothering you, I would, nothing you for help isn’t very manly... but please Goddess, please help me get home.” You sigh, century after century of the same request has really weakened your patience, though he had asked nicer than most. “You’re stuck here for the foreseeable future,” you smile slightly. You wait for the look of annoyance, frustration, fear… but it never comes. In fact he gives a slight half smile as he stands. “Well, nothing we can do?” he asks. “‘Fraid not,” you sigh. He starts to say something else but he winces. “Are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern bleeding through the nonchalant tone you had been practicing the past milenia. He nods and grabs hold of his side. “I got a little beat up, but don’t worry goddess, ‘tis but a flesh wound,” he tips his head down. As he raises his head he looks deathly pale. “Hey sit down okay?” you call down to him, but it’s too late. His eyes roll back and he collapses. “Shit-” you mutter to yourself as you run down to him.

He lays there in a crumpled heap, his breathing shallow. “Wish you’d said you were hurt first dummy,” you grumble before assessing the situation. You need to get him to the herbs and the back porch. This wouldn't be easy, he’s big, huge really. But he collapsed on his side which makes things easier. You hook an arm around one of his and the other around a leg. It takes a lot and it's a staring but you manage to lift him on your shoulders. If your father can hold up the sky, you can surely carry this brick house of a man back to the bed on the porch.

You step into the house while fireman carrying him to the screened-in porch to lay him down on the daybed. You place him carefully in the soft, green covers and he whines softly. “You’re gonna be just fine,” you reassure gently. Your back porch was reserved for growing herbs, arts and crafts, summer sleep, and it occasionally became a makeshift infirmary when visitors came to you injured and in need of patching up. It happened once every few centuries…

You grabbed some fabric scissors and cut away his shirt to reveal what had been ailing him. You hoped for a broken rib, those were easy to heal with a careful dose of leaf from the widows bone flower and some angel root. But what lay beneath was worse than imagined. A deep gash in his side had tried to close over and heal but it’s irritated, angry. The wound is oozing a sickly yellow pus and iridescent ichor. The skin around it is red with infection. This is one of the worst you’d been brought with. You touch his head, it’s hot and sticky with sweat. This wasn’t good. “Wait here, okay?” You grab a clump of angel root and take it back inside to the kitchen, setting it in a pot of water to boil. You grab a cloth and wet it under the sink in cold water.

You place it on his forehead and sit on the bed beside him. His face was relaxed and he was even more beautiful now. You brush the hair from his eyes and smile down at him, there was something familiar about him… like you’d met before. Though no one could return to Ogygia.

You lean down to where you can speak over his heart in a language that cannot be written or replicated... But the meaning of the words would go something like:

You are healing

You are youthful and strong

Your heart knows how to heal because it is made of love

Pure love can heal anything

You are healing now

You repeat this chant until you hear his breath deepen and watch the cut sooth. It’s a small enchantment but it has done its job. Sure, you’re no Circe, or her brethren, but you’re an enchantress all the same.

You rush back inside and grab the angel root, that's now wet and flexible from being submerged in water. You lay it across his wound before wrapping it carefully. “There now, wait here and I’m going to get you some nectar to drink,” He doesn't respond but his face is relaxed, less anguished, less in pain. You sigh in relief, hopefully that will be enough to close the wound in a day or so, else he will need to be stitched up.

You return with a small bottle of nectar and a dropper to feed him with. You coax his jaw to relax with your hand before dropping the nectar slowly onto his tongue. “You heroes are an awful lot of trouble… you know that?” You continue to feed him slowly so he won’t choke. You sigh in relief as the colour returns back to his face. He’s so beautiful he’s almost glowing, you start to reach for him, to brush the hair from his eyes but you stop yourself and turn away. “No, no love this time, remember?” you say to your reflection in the glass of the windows.

His eyes flutter open with long slow blinks. You watch as they focus on you. He blinks again. “Elyssium,” he breathes and you can’t help but chuckle. “No, Ogygia,” you correct gently. “I’m Eijirou,” he smiles. You laugh again. “No no, this island, where you are is called Ogygia, you aren’t dead,” you assure. He blinks up at you still and you curse the gods for creating him to be so breathtaking. “And what are you called?” he asks. He attempts to sit up but finds it difficult. You place your hand on his head, it’s warm and you can feel his brow relax against your palm. “You’re much better now, but just take your time…” His hands touch his torso and then move to his head. “You healed me?” You nod, “I’ll have to sew this one the rest of the way, it was quite deep.” He circles his hand around your arm, his thumb stroking soft circles. “Thank you, goddess,” he murmurs. You pull away, his touch sending lightning down into your fingertips. You don't remember the last time you had a visitor on this island of yours… but none of the previous visitors seemed to matter anymore, even though each one had stolen your heart some way or another. But no- no love, not this time, not now, not again… It hurt, but you suppressed the feelings of desire and brushed your hands down the front of your robe. “It’s nothing, but for the love of the lethe, stop calling me goddess. Kalypso is fine, just Kalypso.”

He grabs your hand as you turn to leave, “thank you... Kalypso, thank you for saving my life.” In all the years you had been saddled with this curse, it was rare for the visitor to say your name... and none of them, had said your name quite like that.

You pull your hand from his grasp and make sure not to look back, even though you want to. “You’re welcome,” you answer simply, “I’ll uhh- get you some water.”

to be added to the taglist

#kirishima #bnha #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #kirishima x you #kiri #eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnharem #bnharem collab #august collab

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edenmemes · 3 years

Text

horizon zero dawn starters

❝ you can sense it. you already know you’re going to lose. ❞ ❝ did you want to be alone? ❞ ❝ you wouldn’t be so eager to speak with me if you knew me. ❞ ❝ that will draw attention. we won’t have this place to ourselves for long now. ❞ ❝ it’s a world worth fighting for. not just here. everywhere. ❞ ❝ trying to live up to glorious pasts has a way of getting people killed. ❞ ❝ never celebrate a victory before it’s earned. ❞ ❝ i crave vengeance. do you? ❞ ❝ my comrades weren’t so lucky. i might shed a tear, if they weren’t all cutthroats and cheaters. ❞ ❝ i’ll always have a minute for you. maybe even two. ❞ ❝ you walk on the edge of life and death. i can tell. ❞ ❝ what is a gift but an award you did not earn? ❞ ❝ so many voices to listen to, it must make your head hurt. i promise my voice will be soft and soothing. ❞ ❝ i wish i could borrow some of your courage now. ❞ ❝ i’ve always wondered. are all your kind hunters and fighters, or just a few? ❞ ❝ no one doubts your determination. but you need to rest. ❞ ❝ a bold claim. i wonder if you’ll live up to it. ❞ ❝ why would someone name a knife? ❞ ❝ so you’re alive ! we should celebrate! drinks on me! ❞ ❝ try not to forget me, while you’re out there saving the world. ❞ ❝ when we spoke earlier, you winced, then looked like you were in pain - or frightened. ❞ ❝ i’m really not one for crowds. ❞ ❝ so - how are we gonna do that? oh, wait, i forgot. we won’t. i do all the dangerous stuff. ❞ ❝ i knew there was something about you. hammered from the stuff they make leaders out of. ❞ ❝ no matter what happens, i will not intervene. do you understand? you are on your own. ❞ ❝ it’s always a pain in the neck when you show up, girl, one way or another. ❞ ❝ you’re bleeding, let me have a look. here, hold still. ❞ ❝ just don’t think this means i enjoy it. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to jinx it, but we might be in the clear. ❞ ❝ when i start a fuss, i like to finish it. ❞ ❝ i promise to look solemn at your funeral before i hit the bar. ❞ ❝ what could go wrong? turns out, a lot. ❞ ❝ let me come with you! i won’t be a bother. i know how to stay out of sight. ❞ ❝ now i’m supposed to fill ____’s shoes. and instead, here i am, stumbling around in them. ❞ ❝ we need to talk - alone. and you need to pull it together. ❞ ❝ i guess growing up means putting what you should do in front of what you want to do, right? ❞ ❝ oh, are you going to shut your mouth now? because that would be a surprise. ❞ ❝ i will come to you in secret. no one will see me, so i won’t get in trouble. ❞ ❝ it looks like something chewed you up and spat you out. ❞ ❝ these are the true wilds, with threats unlike any you have ever faced. ❞ ❝ that moment the door opened and you were standing there, and the way you smiled... i had to look away or you were going to see. on my face. what had just... blossomed inside me, you know? ❞ ❝ i’m not afraid of you - i’m not afraid of anything. ❞ ❝ stop being evasive? you might as well tell me to stop being charming. it’s impossible. ❞ ❝ what a waste. at least he died better than he lived. ❞ ❝ i’ve been looking up at the stars a lot, and the only story i see written across them is that we are small and insignificant and will soon disappear with hardly a trace left behind. it’s a hard story, and i don’t like it much.. ❞ ❝ if i’m going to stand for something, it’ll have to be something i believe in. ❞ ❝ the strength to stand alone, is the strength to make a stand. ❞ ❝ soon it’ll all seem familiar. like home. ❞ ❝ now i see that i was just lucky to get a minute of your time. ❞ ❝ i know my duty to them - and to you. i’m here. and wherever you go...i will follow. ❞ ❝ you're really good at making it impossible to like you. ❞ ❝ i’ve missed our little talks. ❞ ❝ will change happen at all, while men live in palaces? ❞ ❝ confidence is quiet. you’re not. ❞ ❝ you’re not a very convincing liar. ❞ ❝ i already have all the friends i need. i don’t need the bother. ❞ ❝ all right, cool your fire. i got nothing to hide. ❞ ❝ i see you don’t recognize me. well, it was a long time ago. ❞ ❝ you will turn back - or bleed. your choice. ❞ ❝ when we met, i thought i was a big shot talking to a pretty girl hidden away in the middle of nowhere. ❞ ❝ you would speak ill of the dead? truly you have no shame. ❞ ❝ truth is, i get lonely once in awhile. there. i admitted it. don’t think less of me. ❞ ❝ do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there? ❞ ❝ but i don’t know anyone here. ❞ ❝ come on, stop. you’re going to make me tear up. ❞ ❝ i feel like i should drop to my knees and worship you. ❞ ❝ think i’m done? think again. i’ve gotten out of worse scrapes. ❞ ❝ it’s hard to imagine where we’d be without you - and i don’t want to try. ❞ ❝ if we’re to fight together on the brink of life and death, i’d prefer to do so with your forgiveness. ❞ ❝ trust is for fools. it shifts and crumbles like sand. ❞ ❝ what will you do while i risk my life? ❞ ❝ you can smile, can’t you? ...no, that’s a grimace. ❞ ❝ you killed that demon...pulled its guts from the carcass! ❞ ❝ the sooner you’re gone from here, the better. ❞ ❝ for now, all you need to know is that i’m a whisper of reason in this howling pit of insanity. ❞ ❝ i heard the rumors, but i didn’t know for sure until saw you just now. i’m glad to see you’re okay. ❞ ❝ no barrier can now stay you from your sacred task. ❞ ❝ i won’t deny i risked your life. but it was the only way. ❞ ❝ they can’t shoot if they’re dead. keep them busy, i’ll find an angle. ❞ ❝ comforts are weakness. ❞ ❝ as for honor, sacrifice-- true sacrifice, the kind rulers know nothing of -- it’s all a fat joke. ❞ ❝ i’ve been sharpening my blade, anticipating the scent of the fight. ❞ ❝ you’re not just a traveler. that armor was fitted for you. and the way you hold your bow... ❞ ❝ i’d expect to see some tomatoes fly, maybe rocks. hopefully not spears. in any case, be ready to duck. ❞ ❝ i’m not here for the price on your head. ❞ ❝ for a moment, i was a child again, rapt from stories told by hunters at the campfire. ❞ ❝ this...attachment to me will only hold you back. ❞ ❝ whatever you do, don’t let their shabby looks fool you! they’ll kill you as soon as look at you. ❞ ❝ i’m doing what i love. and what could be wrong with that? ❞ ❝ when the arrowhead passes between armor and skin - that’s the place i belong. ❞ ❝ right. why would i expect an answer? it’s so much more exciting to keep it all a mystery... ❞ ❝ oh, it’s a story all right, but it takes a while to tell. maybe another time, over a drink or three? ❞ ❝ why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again? ❞ ❝ i’ll wager you don’t scare easy - it’s a good quality. ❞ ❝ there will be people celebrating, and feasting. more than you've ever see in one place. ❞ ❝ i didn’t bring you here to answer questions. i brought you here to deal with that. ❞ ❝ ...you’ve...put a lot of thought into this. ❞ ❝ i do not want to hear this talk from you again. doubt is heavier than a week’s snow. ❞ ❝ bandits are drawn to here like infection to a wound. ❞ ❝ i guess you’re doing the right thing for the wrong reason. ❞ ❝ i thought you and i were agreed: only enjoy the killing as much as the challenge. ❞ ❝ rumors spread like blood. ❞ ❝ they would steal from us, chase us through the night, laughing. ❞ ❝ leave it too long, your fingers itch for the bowstring. ❞ ❝ you’re strong, shrewd, capable... i could use someone like you on my side. ❞ ❝ you defeated it? alone? ❞ ❝ grasp your grief. and kill it. ❞ ❝ at least i’ll have a fire to keep me company. ❞ ❝ only survivors scar. after everything you’ve been through, you keep going. ❞ ❝ just stop being evasive and tell me who you really are. ❞ ❝ i don’t mind putting my worthless ass on the line. but not yours. ❞ ❝ i’m not here to intrigue you. ❞ ❝ how about you? who do you think i am? what will you remember of me? ❞ ❝ everything freezing. the ground, the air... me. ❞ ❝ you lost someone you care about. that leaves a wound. the sort of wound a lot of people don’t recover from. ❞ ❝ the only thing i know i’m still fighting for is...you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t earn this mercy, but i will die to make myself worthy of it. ❞ ❝ to say you have my gratitude feels woefully insufficient. you saved my life. ❞ ❝ makes you wish you could kill them more than once, doesn’t it? ❞ ❝ why did you act so strange when we spoke earlier? ❞ ❝ being smart won’t count for nothing if you don’t make the world a better place. ❞ ❝ to serve a purpose greater than yourself...that is the lesson you must learn. ❞ ❝ if a big, meaningful talk is what you’re after, move along. ❞ ❝ that carcass! what sort of beast was that? ❞ ❝ what are you doing out here all alone? where are your men? ❞ ❝ you’ve obviously heard of me. you know what i’m capable of. why do you think this will turn out well for you? ❞ ❝ there’s so much to discover before the world ends. ❞ ❝ i couldn’t wait to see you again. it’s like...i’m dead and only come alive when i’m here with you. ❞ ❝ some even say you have a conscience. how extraordinary! ❞ ❝ do you always accuse people you’ve just met of lying? ❞ ❝ if you ever visit, look me up. i’ll show you around, make introductions. it’d be a whole new life, if you want it. ❞ ❝ it had a name once, not that it matters now. i was born there. ❞ ❝ i always knew you were different... i think you’re a blessing. ❞ ❝ no one hears your prayers anyway. ❞ ❝ this place is difficult even for the prepared. ❞ ❝ i underestimated you. i won’t make that same mistake again. ❞ ❝ oh. is that supposed to sound scary or something? ❞ ❝ look, maybe i shouldn’t say this, but it’s obvious that you don’t belong in this... backwater. ❞ ❝ were you kept hidden away? did you have overprotective parents or something? ❞ ❝ hmph. don’t go soft on me. ❞ ❝ i prefer the company of spirits. or my own. ❞ ❝ blood spilled calls for blood spilled! if the ground is cursed, then let our vengeance sanctify it. ❞ ❝ so many people here, all talking at once. how does anyone think? ❞ ❝ why is it that every time something bad happens to you, someone else tells you something bad that happened to them, as if that makes it any better? ❞ ❝ i’ve never seen armor like yours. ❞ ❝ the wrongness here jags at me like an arrowhead. ❞ ❝ when you found me, i was trying to eke out a glorious death. but now a glorious life seems more preferable. ❞ ❝ tomorrow, may the sun rise on the world. ❞ ❝ you saved my epitaph from being ‘a fine soldier but a fool of a man’. ❞ ❝ i don’t think i know you at all. but i’d like to. ❞ ❝ i don’t like this. it feels...wrong. ❞ ❝ oh, i’m grateful for this wound. it’s a lesson i won’t forget. ❞ ❝ you’re a clever one. but not so clever as to heed my warning, i see. ❞ ❝ not everyone follows the law like you do. ❞ ❝ how many times have i pulled you from danger by your neck? made excuses for your behavior? ❞ ❝ for what it’s worth, i’m glad you’re coming with me. ❞ ❝ what have i ever given you but struggle? ❞ ❝ it’s starting to feel real, you know? that we might actually get out of this place. ❞ ❝ i’ve never been part of anything. i serve my own interests. always. ❞ ❝ i apologize for my...behavior. i thought i was dead. ❞ ❝ look, i don’t even know your story. must be a good one. if you ever feel like telling it, look me up. ❞ ❝ when my anger has thawed, i will feel nothing. ❞ ❝ i can’t remember when i had this much fun! i should be thanking you! ❞ ❝ you gave him a quicker death than he deserved. ❞ ❝ that...could be the last creepy thing you’ve said to me. ❞ ❝ something’s really bothering you. if you think i’m gonna abandon you, you’re wrong. ❞ ❝ surprised you saw me, the way you keep looking every other direction to make sure no one’s watching. careful there, or you’ll sprain your neck. ❞ ❝ remember how the blood pounded in your ears? they’ll ring later, in the calm. it’s a call to arms, from your inner desires. ❞ ❝ ___’s dead. i was ready to go through anything to make that happen. and i did. ❞ ❝ is there a reason why you’re acting so cranky today? ❞ ❝ you hold your grief close, like a tailsman. ❞ ❝ i hope you can find peace. ❞ ❝ you don’t know who i am, do you? ❞ ❝ you know there’s always been dirt on my hands. now there’s blood too. ❞ ❝ i want to be strong like you. but... ❞ ❝ i hadn’t given up on hope, but i’ve forgotten the taste of it. ❞ ❝ just...don’t start singing again. ❞ ❝ you’re sparing me? after all i’ve done? ❞ ❝ i don’t intend to die today. ❞ ❝ it will take many good deeds to make up for the crimes you’ve committed. ❞ ❝ but why should you have justice, and not me? ❞ ❝ such a voice... a cold, awful jangle that scrapes your bones and hollows your guts. ❞ ❝ one more word, and i’ll throw you in jail myself. ❞ ❝ only in the struggle against death do we find, even for a moment, the spark of life. ❞ ❝ the war changed you. changed us both. we’re not kids anymore. ❞ ❝ i can’t sleep, i can’t breathe knowing you could be out there...hurting... ❞ ❝ now i’m left to wear my sins. for me, at least, they hang heavy. ❞ ❝ but what does a girl like you know of loss? ❞ ❝ it’s a good thing you’ve got brains. because your personality could use some work. ❞ ❝ i was going to ask you to leave with me...to go somewhere out in the sun where no shadow could reach us. ❞ ❝ they didn’t need to disgrace my name. i did it myself, serving a rotten throne. ❞ ❝ you don’t approve? well, i have a secret for you. neither do i. ❞ ❝ perhaps you are not an evil man. just a weak one. ❞ ❝ losses can feel... overwhelming. but they remind us of our connections to others. ❞ ❝ i don’t exactly see anyone beating down the door to spend time with you. ❞ ❝ if i had known, i would never have spoken to you. ❞ ❝ forge a new life. one of better make. ❞ ❝ impossible odds, fine company, killing without consequence --- how could i resist? ❞ ❝ look at me. i can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but you don’t have to go through it alone. ❞ ❝ i wish i had known, all this time, what you were going through. ❞ ❝ i’m with you. until the end. ❞ ❝ i thought you just wanted to have tea and conversation! is there a battle coming? i wasn’t informed! ❞ ❝ we’ve only met a few times, and yet you know me so well. ❞ ❝ are you going to drive me off, too? it’s okay. i’ve dealt with worse. ❞ ❝ now i know the kind of person i want to be, watching you. ❞ ❝ it’s so...bittersweet. like a smile through bloodied teeth. ❞ ❝ i swear i saw my ancestors... they said: ‘we’re not surprised to see you here’. ❞ ❝ more mercenaries? what kind of person sells their loyalty? ❞ ❝ keep moving or you’ll die! ❞ ❝ this is the kind of place you’d take someone if you want to lose them forever. ❞ ❝ if that’s destiny, i wouldn’t wish it on anyone. ❞ ❝ i’ve thought about what you said. every time, the wound you gave me caught on my ribs. ❞ ❝ i’ve never seen such disregard for personal safety. ❞ ❝ the most important thing is what you’re not like - your father. ❞ ❝ i’m never lonely where there’s killing to be done. ❞ ❝ my past - and my secrets - are my own. you’ll do well to remember that. ❞ ❝ only to you do i extend the courtesy of a warning. ❞ ❝ if the war’s not over, i’m not done. ❞ ❝ a long kiss, the best kind... i can still remember the feel of your hand on the back of my neck. ❞ ❝ it would be a worse fate to bow our heads to the challenge and say, ‘too much’. ❞ ❝ let’s not say farewell. i’ve had enough of that to last me a dozen winters. ❞ ❝ have your wounds even had time to heal? ❞ ❝ you can stop worrying. the secret’s safe with me. ❞ ❝ just to be clear, i have no plans to murder you, alright? ❞ ❝ you’re an idiot. a dangerous idiot, but an idiot. ❞ ❝ i’m kicking myself for not seeing your potential from the beginning. ❞ ❝ for your sake, you must go where you will never find me. this is goodbye. ❞ ❝ so that’s what this is? a tantrum? a cry for attention? ❞ ❝ change won’t come in a single sunrise. ❞ ❝ this place may not seem like much, but we’ll make the best of it. ❞ ❝ no murderers here, if that’s what you’re asking. ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #i'm playing through this game again !!!! & this time im rlly taking it all in

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strawberry-jammers · 3 years

Text

A child to protect (pt2)

tommyinnit x child!reader|| things dont go as planned

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

“Tommy what is this?” dream asks, looking at the, rightfully, scared boy. “U-uh well-” “you lied to me.” dream says, going into the no longer hidden room. “The only rule was to burn you stuff everytime i came here, yet you kept things from me. Tommy you disobeyed me.”

its 1 am and idk what's going on anymore

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“What, dream come on, did i really disobey you-.” dream cut tommy off again, “yes tommy. Yes you did. I'm blowing this place up, destroying your portal. You'll have to start all over again, and you won't have any access to the nether.” dream moved, placing TNT down. “Come on dream, you don't have to do this. Please dream.”

“No tommy, you tested me one to many times.” dream lit the TNT. the room and house blowing up slightly. Some of his things didn't get destroyed, so he quickly grabbed, making sure dream didn't notice.

Dream went around. Destroying everything on sight. Tnret, the portal, the rest of the little area ghostbur made, everything. Once dream left, tommy was left alone with the barren area he once lived. Everyhome he had was destroyed or taken, wasn't it?

Tommy built up. He was tired, he didnt wanna deal with dream anymore.he didnt want to be exiled anymore, he wanted none of this.

Tommy finished his tower, staring out around him. At the ocean, the holes dream created with the explosive, the small hut in the distance-

The small hut. (y/n)!

Tommy still had his kid, he still had the baby he has been raising for the past months of his life. Dream didn't take everything, for there was one thing he still had, and that was his child.

Tommy looked down, seeing a small yet big enough pond. He jumped down, aiming for the body of water. Splashing, he swam up towards the surface. “Go get (y/n), and then think of a plan later.'' Tommy swam out of the pond, running off towards the hut he had made oh so many months ago.

Bursting threw the door, he saw the baby laying in their crib, crying as they always did when he visited. He'll be able to take care of the baby properly soon.

"Hey (n/n), hey shhh you hungry?" The baby cried still, not understanding what he was saying. Tommy grabbed some of the milk he had stored, and put it in a bottle for the child. "Come here." Tommy picked up the small child, and started to feed them. They seemed to calm down.

"I'm glad he didn't find you. I don't know what i would've done if he did." When they where done, he took the bottle from (y/n) and sat it down. “Idk what to do now….” the child made sounds as usual. “Let's go on a walk, ill figure something out then.” getting up, he left the hut to walk around the woods a bit. They saw many animals as they walked. Tommy sat down near a tree and let the baby crawl around a bit. Tommy watched them, making sure they were safe.

(Y/n) crawled around, fascinated with all the animals. They crawled up to a pig, wanting to pet the pink creature. Tommy got up and grabbed the baby, "hey hey, don't touch the pig. pigs are gross. I knew a pig once. Terrible man he was little (f/i)." The baby made grabby hands at the pig. "You really like pigs don't you…." Tommy thought for a moment. He decided to visit technoblade.

"Okay (y/n), we’re gonna go live somewhere else. I'm gonna make you some warm clothes and pack up!” Tommy went back into the hut, placing down the baby on their crib. “Okay, time to fucking pack. It's really only (y/n)s stuff but whatever.” tommy spent a half hour getting things ready for them to leave. He dressed (y/n) up for the excursion.

“Alright little (f/i), lets go visit the blade.” the child laughed, thinking he was funny. “Alright then, lets go!” they left the plains biome and headed towards technos house, that's somewhere in the snow.

(y/n) didn't like the trip very much.

“I know it's cold, but we have to get there! (y/n) please don't cry, fuuck, its okay its okay.” (y/n) was very cold, the snow being harsher than Tommy had originally thought it would be. “I know, I know, it's cold, but we’ll get there soon. I hope.” they continued there walk thru the snow.

It had turned night, and Tommy had finally found technoblades house. (y/n) had calmed down after the snow had stopped falling. Tommy had to constantly run from monsters, making sure none of them hit (y/n).

“Fucling finally!! Took forever to get here.'' Tommy looked around to see if the technoblade wasn't there. He didn't see a nametag, so he had to assume the blade was off doing something else. “Alright, we've made it.'' Tommy opened the door, immediately seeing zombie villagers in boats. “AHHH!” he yelled, (y/n) started crying at the loud yelling. “Sorry sorry.” Tommy quieted down as he looked around the house, and soon started going through the chests to steal things. “Oooo, here (y/n) have a gapple. You can't eat it but you can at least look at it.” the child happily took the pretty fruit, gumming at it happily. “Aaawww you got saliva all over it. Gross.” Tommy says, annoyed.

“Okay, time to make a home under his house.” The child was paying more attention to the apple than they were to tommy. Tommy huffed, sitting (y/n) down, far away from the zombies, and started to dig down.

He made a nice room for them, enough blocks down so he wouldn't be able to hear them. Tommy climbed back up to grab his baby. “C’mere little (f/i)!” he says, walking up to the small child who was still trying to eat the gapple. They were unsuccessful. He grabbed the child. “Gimme the gapple (y/n).” he says, taking it from them. (y/n) whined slightly, wanting the gapple back. Tommy sighs. “Fine you can have it.” Tommy gives them back the apple. (y/n) laughs happily. He smiles, climbing down the hole to their new home.

“Alright little (f/i), this is our home now!” He sits them near the prime log. “This is the prime log, be very careful it's an important thing.” the child crawls over to it, trying to climb on it. Tommy sees this and puts them on the prime log. “(y/n), ruler of the prime log!” the child laughed, clapping. “(y/n), how does it feel to be so cool?” he asks. They just said incoherent words instead.

They played around for a bit longer, till the child fell asleep on the log. Tommy picked them up, putting them in their new crib. “Good night (y/n).” he says, going to his own bed to try and sleep for the night.

This time he actually did.

#tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #dreamsmp x reader #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x y/n

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tellerluna-stories · 3 years

Text

prologue.

Long ago, when the world was young and the archons had yet to rise to their positions as overseers of all, before the god of contracts was Morax or Rex Lapis or Zhongli or whatever name he chose to go by, he was asked a question he would never forget.

"Tell me, young one, what is the greatest treasure in all of creation?"

The young boy who was soon to be known as Morax looked up from the battered pages of a book he was reading; his golden eyes could not detect any ill-intent in the elder archon's face, nor was there any hint of deception in her voice. "Hmm.... It's gold, isn't it?" The youngling tilted his head, a curious expression on his face. "Or perhaps it is jade.... but then again, precious stones and other valuable items are always sold for gold." “Spoken like a true dragon.” His caregiver smiled and shook her head at his reply. "You have a fine sense of business and contracts in your young head, but no. The greatest treasure is not something that is accumulated, like gold or precious stones. Rather, it is something living." ".....Living?" He frowned in confusion. "I have never heard of living treasure before." "Living treasure is one that is most difficult to find, young one. Some spend entire lifetimes searching for it, and some never find it at all." The archon’s withered hands gently tugged the book from his, running her fingers over the pages tenderly. "But for each person, their living treasure is different and unique to them. For some, it is the love of friends and family. For others, it is a book they poured a lifetime of experiences in— like this one here." She gestured to the book in her hand, before returning it to its place on the bookshelf. The boy could not hide the confusion on his face, and the elder archon laughed and patted the tiny horns on his head. "Lastly, sometimes the living treasure you may seek could very well be a person." "A person.....?" "Yes, young one. A person." "How can a person be treasure?" "Hmm....."

His guardian tilted her head in contemplation, pondering a way to best explain it to the hatchling. “When you are with someone and you find that you are willing to lay everything down for that person, be it fame, riches, and even your very life—“ Her voice wavered for the fraction of a second. “— I think that is when you can safely say you have found your living treasure. Does that make more sense?” He only looked at his elder blankly. “I still do not think I’ve grasped the concept of treasure being alive.” “Ah, then perhaps it is something that you will learn as you grow older, young one.” The elder archon gathered him up into her arms, bouncing the boy slightly to keep her balance. “Some things can only be discovered as you walk through the path of life, and living treasure is surely one of them.”

“I see.” The boy put his hand to his chin, nodding solemnly. “I hope I find it soon, then. Did you ever find your treasure, elder?” The smile faded from the elder archon’s face. “I found him once, many eons ago.” “What happened to him, then?” “He was a writer, a brilliant one at that. In fact, he wrote the very book you were reading just now.” She shook her head, the wound too old for tears now. “But alas, I did not realize that he was my living treasure until it was too late, and he slipped away into oblivion.” “Promise me this, young one.” Her voice grew serious, and the archon’s dim eyes pierced into the boy’s eyes of amber. “Once you find your living treasure, you must never let it go. Do not let others steal it from you, and never let it slip out of your grasp. For once it leaves you, you will always regret not having done everything to take care of it and keep it by your side.” “I do not think I quite understand, elder...” “Promise me.” “I—“ He blinked owlishly, tilting his head to the side. “I promise, then.” The elder archon breathed a sigh of relief, and the smile returned to her face. “May you find your living treasure according to the perfect timing of the One Above, young one— and may you never lose it.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli angst #zhongli headcanons #slow burn #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #hope y’all like forests cuz there’s a lot of pining #this fic idea was born specifically to attack my zhongli simp friends #if y’all see this ily guys <3 #tellerluna.tales #tellerluna.tales: living treasure

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hercleverboy · 3 years

Text

the waiting room

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary ↠ the three times Y/N waited for spencer, and the one time he waited for her. (based off of this blurb)

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ mentions of death as a result of potential illness, spencer’s headaches, mri scans, swearing, indefinite ending.

word count ↠ 2.9k

dedicating this one to two of the literal loves of my life, @voidsfilm + @ellesgreenaway ♡

“What is stronger than the human heart, which shatters over and over and still lives.” — Rupi Kaur

Spencer had always hated hospitals.

He found it so conflicting, how a place could hold so much hope for life and promise for the future, and yet also hold so much heartbreak and despair and agony.

The strong disinfectant smell wasn’t his favourite thing, either. He hated how the bright lights always irritated his eyes, and how the hallways all just looked the same, so bleak and lifeless.

Most of all, he hated the waiting room.

The navy-blue carpet that lined the floors, wooden chairs that were always, without fail, extremely uncomfortable to sit in. The way that nurses and doctors would walk past the room, eyes full of pity and sorrow. With his job, he’d seen more waiting rooms than he would’ve liked. He spent more time than he wanted to in hospitals, talking to victims’ families, and even sometimes having to witness them receive such heartbreaking news. On one or two occasions, he’d even had to be the bearer of bad news himself, the one who had to tell expectant family that their loved one was gone. It only added to the list of reasons why he despised hospitals.

Then there was the other side of the coin. He took frequent trips to the hospital, but unfortunately more oftenly as a patient than an FBI agent. He wouldn’t say he was reckless, but he didn’t exactly put much value on his life. Or at least, he never used to. He figured it was because he was the only one on the team without a family to come home to, without people who were dependent on him. And so, if it came down to it, he would willing take off his Kevlar vest and put down his weapon while talking down a gun-wielding unsub. Of course, he’d get the third degree from Hotch later, but he could live with that. And then he met Y/N, and he realised that now he had someone counting on him, someone waiting for him to come back home to them, he couldn’t afford to be so careless in the field.

Though sometimes, despite Spencer’s best attempts, things still went wrong. Y/N had seen the inside of the hospital waiting room more than most, often because she’d get called by one of his team mates to alert her that he’d been injured in the field. And without him ever asking, she’d drop everything to be there for him, even if it was his own stupidity that had landed him in those situations.

The first time was after he’d been shot in the knee. Y/N had been midway through her workday when she’d received a call from JJ telling her that Spencer had been injured. She knew that it was only a leg wound, that he would be absolutely fine, but that didn’t stop her from being worried. She’d been sat in the waiting room, waiting anxiously for a nurse to come by and update her.

As soon as she got the all clear to see him, she’d breathed out a sigh of relief and made her way to his room, catching his attention as soon as she entered.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, grimacing slightly at the pain shooting through his leg. “Hi.”

She chuckled at that, moving to stand at his bedside. “Hi baby, how are you feeling?”

“I’m ok.” He smiled, reaching up to tightly grasp one of her hands in his. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here, you know.”

“Oh, stop.” She mumbled with a smile. “You know how much I worry about you.”

He grinned at that, the warm feeling that he always got when he was with her spreading through him. He used the grip he had on her hand to pull her down to him, so his lips could meet hers in a sweet kiss. “Hotch has demanded I take some time off to rest, or whatever.” He murmured against her lips. “So, I’m all yours.”

“Hmm, and what you mean by that is that you need someone to take care of you at home for a few days?”

“Well, I did get shot in the leg, you know. Taking down the bad guy...” He gestured to his bandaged-up knee, a pout on his pretty pink lips.

She let out a laugh at that, amused. “Alright, Superman. Let’s get you home, shall we?”

The next time Y/N found herself in the hospital waiting room was a year later, when Spencer had been suffering from painful, unexplainable headaches.

Initially, Spencer hadn’t wanted her to attend his MRI scan appointment, but it didn’t take much convincing for her to assure him that she wanted to be there for him. He’d held her hand in a vice-like grip on the drive to the hospital, only letting go when the nurse called his name to tell him they were ready for him. She’d kissed the back of his hand before he’d left, a whispered promise leaving her lips before he went, “I’ll be right here waiting.”

She looked around the empty waiting room, took note of its greying walls and stained carpet, and how awfully uncomfortable the chairs were. She thought of anything and everything that could distract her from the way she was feeling at that moment- knowing how scared her boyfriend was that there was something was wrong with him.

Spencer came back to the waiting room an hour later, both relieved to see that his girl was indeed still waiting for him but frustrated with what little the doctor had told him.

“Hey!” Y/N sat up straighter, putting on a smile for the sake of her boyfriend. “How’d it go?”

Spencer just shook his head. “He says there’s nothing physically wrong with me. He suggested I should consider that it’s something more mental, but he’s wrong- he’s wrong, Y/N.” He sat down in the chair next to her, seeking comfort in her arms as he whimpered into the crook of her neck. “I’m not- I’m not crazy, am I?”

And the truth was, she didn’t know. She was so afraid for him, worried that he was sick, dying, perhaps of something that the doctors hadn’t detected yet. It terrified her. Her hands ran up and down the expanse of his back, attempting to soothe his weeps the best that she could. Spencer grabbed fistfuls of the back of her shirt and breathed in the scent of her hair as deeply as he could to try and ground himself.

“I’m scared, Y/N.”

That broke her heart to hear, but all she could do was nod in understanding, hoping her words would offer him some form of comfort. “I know, I know. We’ll figure this out, ok? Everything is going to be alright.”

The next time Y/N inside of a waiting room was on what she could only refer to as the worst night of her life.

There were no words that could encompass the plethora of emotions she went through when she’d received a phone call from JJ, “Spencer has been shot. It’s- It’s pretty bad, Y/N. You need to come quickly.”

When she got to the waiting room, she saw JJ and Alex sat opposite one another, a worry that made Y/N’s stomach sink on both their faces. She hurried towards them, tears blurring her vision. “Have you had any updates? Is he ok?”

JJ looked up, shaking her head sadly.

“What happened?” Y/N asked, her voice wavering.

“He got shot in the neck. He pushed me out of the way.” Alex sighed, as though she was still in disbelief that he’d done that to save her.

Y/N stared ahead in shock, dropping down into the seat beside Alex. Of course, of course, Spencer would risk his life to protect Alex. Y/N knew how fond he was of his colleague, how he idolised her, saw her as a sort of mother figure, even.

Eventually JJ got called back to work, with Alex insisting that she’d stay with Y/N and wait for Spencer to wake.

Y/N was so sick and fucking tired of the waiting room. Before, she hadn’t minded it, it had even bought a sense of comfort to her- because she was in a hospital, where they saved lives. But now? The familiar walls and dull navy-blue carpet made her feel nauseous. Not knowing whether her boyfriend was going to live or die was incomparable to any other time she’d found herself waiting in the same four walls. She was feeling everything and nothing all at once, she wanted to cry and scream, curse the universe for once again hurting a man that had done nothing in his life but protect others. Hell, part of her even wanted to laugh- laugh at the absurdity of the situation. If he died, - god, if he died - the world would’ve robbed him of a lifetime with her, the chance to live the life that he deserved.

She barely registered that Alex had left her side to bring her a coffee until she sat back down beside her. Y/N looked over at her, giving her a small smile as she gratefully accepted the coffee.

Y/N brought the cup to her lips, relishing in how the hot liquid brought her a sense of warmth, and she wondered if she’d ever feel Spencer’s warmth again. She sucked in a shaky breath, speaking the first words she’d said in all the hours they’d been waiting. “You know he wants kids?”

Alex looked over at her, sad smile tugging at her lips. “I do.”

Y/N nodded, sniffing. “He’d be a phenomenal father.”

“He would.”

Y/N let out a small cry, trying desperately to hold herself together. “What if I never get the chance to give him that, Alex?” She cried, body finally giving in to the painful ache that consumed her entire being.

Alex placed an arm around her, allowing the younger woman to lean on her shoulder for support. “You’ll get the chance. Spencer is strong, he’ll pull through.”

And sure enough, Alex had been right. When Y/N had been told he was awake, she couldn’t describe the relief that flooded her. After meeting Penelope in the hallway and being given a much-needed hug, she took a few deep breaths before walking into Spencer’s room. When her eyes landed on him, she felt the tears start to well again. She had to remind herself that despite the bandage on his neck and the numerous machines hooked up to him, he was there, and he was alive.

She came towards him with the best smile she could muster, and he looked up at her with a drowsy smile.

“Hi.” She whispered, standing beside his bed.

He grinned up at her, reaching out for her hand just like he always did. “Hi.”

She squeezed his hand gently, reminding herself again that he was ok, though she couldn’t prevent the tears that began to tremble down her cheeks.

Spencer’s heart throbbed at the sight, and he allowed himself to imagine the pain she must’ve been through, having to wait for hours to see if he was alive. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not the woman he loved more than anything else. “It’s alright, sweet girl. I’m alright.” He promised, wishing more than anything that he could pull her into his arms and soothe her, though the pain in his neck prevented him from doing so.

“I could’ve lost you.” She whimpered, her other hand coming out to delicately trace the side of his face.

“I’m right here.” He gave her hand three squeezes just to emphasise his point.

She leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “You can’t ever scare me like that again.”

Spencer chuckled lowly, nodding. “Yes ma’am.”

“Promise me?”

And though it was a promise they both knew he couldn’t keep, he granted her the reassurance that she craved.

“I promise.”

Y/N knew that wasn’t the last time she’d be sat in the waiting room, scared and anxious and hoping that the love of her life was ok. She knew there would always be a ‘next time’, no matter how many self-serving promises she asked Spencer to make. What she didn’t plan for, was that the next time she saw the inside of a hospital, it would be her fighting for her life.

It had been a slow day at work for Spencer, with him managing to complete a majority of his withstanding paperwork. He sat at his desk, focused on how he twirled his pen between his fingertips, willing the clock to move faster so he could go back home when his phone rang, Y/N’s name flashing across the screen.

He answered eagerly, though all eagerness was wiped away when it wasn’t her voice on the other end of the line.

“Hi there, I’m looking for a Dr Spencer Reid?”

Spencer’s mind raced, and he swallowed thickly before squeaking out an answer. “That’s me.”

“I’m calling on behalf of Y/N Y/L/N, you’re registered as her emergency contact.”

“Is she ok?” He croaked out, begging and pleading internally that all the worst-case scenario’s running through his head wouldn’t come to fruition.

“She was involved in a severe road collision. You’re going to want to come down here-”

Everything past that was drowned out by the sound of Spencer’s heart beating quicker, so loudly he could hear it. He hung up, gathering his things together as quickly as he could and rushing toward the doors of the bullpen- running directly into one Derek Morgan.

“Woah, easy there, kid. You got somewhere to be?” He joked at first, but erased all hints of a smile from his face when he saw the tears filling the younger man’s eyes. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Spencer couldn’t form a sentence, only managing to splutter out a few barely strung together words. “It’s Y/N, she’s- she’s been in an a-accident and I need, I have to get to her.”

Morgan’s eyes widened, nodding in understanding. “Alright, ok. You’re in no condition to be driving, let me take you.”

Spencer wasn’t about to argue, already making his way toward the elevator.

Spencer had always hated hospitals.

But he’d also decided that he really fucking hated the waiting room.

The doctors didn’t have any updates for him, no matter how many times he asked. So, he’d been forced to sit in that damned room and wait.

He thought of how cruel the concept of the waiting room was. Waiting for either good or bad news, waiting to hear the words that would either fill him with relief or dread, signify the start of his life or the end. How cruel was it that people had to sit and wait, with the weight of the world on their shoulders and just hope their loved one was ok?

With the first hour brought Spencer’s upset, tears trembling down rosy cheeks and whimpered words of disbelief that he could lose the woman he loved. He’d sat in the uncomfortable blue chair with his head in his hands as sobs wrecked through his body, with Morgan sat next to him, a comforting hand on his shoulder.

The second hour brought with it a slither of hope, as a doctor came out to update them. Though it wasn’t good nor bad news, just that Y/N was still in surgery and was expected to be so for the next few hours. Spencer had again buried his head in his hands, his thoughts racing. The rest of the team arrived, joining the sombre atmosphere of the waiting room.

The third hour saw Spencer grow agitated, angry with himself for not being with her, for not protecting her, despite how many times the team attempted to reassure him that there was nothing he could’ve done differently. They brought him cups of coffee with gentle reassurances, empty promises that Y/N would be fine, that she would pull through, but how could they possibly know that?

In the fourth hour, Spencer sat staring blankly at the wall. He reminded himself of the future he’d dreamt of time and time again, and how he couldn’t imagine himself having that life with anyone else but her. He recalled the location of the velvet purple box he’d bought just a few months prior, hidden amongst pairs of his mismatched socks in the second drawer of his nightstand. What if he never got the chance to propose? To give her the life that he’d promised her time and time again when it was 3am and he was holding the love his life as close to his chest as he could get her. After all he’d done, the years of his life he’d given to helping to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, this was the thanks he got? What a sick twist of fate that was.

By the fifth hour, he was exhausted. His eyes drooped but he fought to keep them open, choosing to ignore the pitiful looks JJ shot him when she saw him fighting sleep. He would wait for her, just like all the times she had waited for him. He recognised how the way that he felt must’ve been how Y/N had felt after he’d been shot the year before, and the thought almost made him sick. He ran over all the possible outcomes in his head, allowing his eyes to close for a single moment as he mentally calculated the statistical probabilities of each outcome. He despised how helpless he felt. For a man whose job was to help others in need, he’d never been a position before where he didn’t have the answer, where he couldn’t come up with a solution. His heart ached as the realisation that he could very well lose her settled over him, the statistic he’d calculated of her survival being a number that was way too low for Spencer’s liking.

For the moment, he had no choice but to wait.

It was all he could do.

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