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#one sad sounding song comes on && i'm already breaking into tears
jennay · 7 months
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Ex-Husband (2)
Bitter
An: Mentions of child loss. Also I tried editing this so many times and it never got better. I just kept getting frustrated. I ran through it one more time before being ok with this one. I hope you guys enjoy it though and I’m sorry it’s sad!
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You look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, feeling self-loath. You remember Kieran's words: "Be yourself." But you don't want to be yourself. You want to erase your past and start over somewhere new. Somewhere where no one knows who you are or what you've done. Somewhere where you can lie and pretend to be a good person who never hurt anyone. Somewhere where you don't have to face the demons inside you.
You open the drawer, pull out the little bottle of your anxiety medication, and swallow two tiny pills.
Memories flood your mind as you walk down the hallway. You thought taking down the picture would've helped remove the pain, but it didn't. Now, you stare at empty walls, plagued by the traces of what used to be there. The faded outlines of frames and nails mock you with their emptiness. You stop at the closed bedroom and stare at it, feeling a knot in your throat. You don't know if you can ever enter it again. You don't know if you can face the reminders of what you lost.
You urge yourself to keep walking, and when you reach the living room, you snatch your purse and anything else you might need. You secure your doors and step outside.
Of course, it's raining as if today wasn't hard enough already. You pull your hood over your head and sprint to your car, swiftly unlocking it and tossing your stuff on the passenger's seat.
You start the engine, fastening the seatbelt with extra care. You've seen the consequences of a loose buckle and how a split second can change everything. You still feel the guilt gnawing at your chest.
You rest your head on the steering wheel and let out a shaky breath. “Damn it.” You curse as tears cloud your vision. You lean back and wipe them away. You have to keep it together.
Your phone rings through the Bluetooth speaker. You glance at the screen and see Rory’s name. You know what he wants but aren’t sure if you want to talk to him.
You sigh, knowing you’re breaking your promise. You’re not moving on; you’re still letting him contact you. Seeing him at Jazz's birthday party a few weeks ago almost sent you into another spiral. Why are you doing this? Were you that lonely?
You feel weak knowing you continue to let him text and call you, but at the same time, talking to him feels safe and almost comfortable.
Out of desperation for someone to soothe you, you answer.
"Hey," You say while pulling out of your driveway. You try your best to smile as you speak, hoping he won't hear the sadness in your voice.
"Hey, um. I was just calling to check on you. See how you're doing." He softly says, "Uh, how are you?"
Your eyes threaten to water again. "Shitty." You say, feeling like a broken record that keeps playing the same sad song over and over.
"Me too." He admits. "I was going to go visit her." You can hear the weakness in his voice as he tries to compose himself. "It being her birthday and all, I think she would like us there."
You never thought this was something you'd go through. You never knew heartbreak like this. If someone had told you ten years ago this would be your life, you would have laughed. Your life wasn't some fucked up tragedy.
"Yeah." You quietly say.
"Do you want me to meet you there, or can we drive together? I don't mind picking you up," Rory speaks with uncertainty. He didn't know how to talk to you anymore. He tried to keep things light-hearted and superficial, never getting too deep.
"I'm driving right now." You bite your bottom lip, wondering if you should offer to come to his house.
"Oh," Rory sounds surprised like he didn't think you'd leave bed today. "I can meet you there."
You deeply sigh, "Let me come pick you up. I'm close to you anyway."
"Yeah, I'll just get ready. Text me when you're here. I'll see you shortly."
"Yep, bye." You click the end button, unsure if you made the right decision.
You turn the radio on and do your best to escape your feelings as you continue to Rory's new home. The songs don't help you ignore your feelings like you'd planned. You turn off the radio and drive in silence until you arrive at Rory's house, and when you park on the curb, you text him. Here.
Seconds later, the door opens with a loud creak, and you slightly jump from the sudden sound. You look up and see Rory standing there, holding the door handle. He's wearing a gray zip-up sweater, flannel underneath, and plain blue jeans. He looks comfortable, but his eyes are tense and anxious.
You stare at Rory briefly before grabbing your things to make space for him. "Sorry. I have stuff everywhere." You speak fast as you try to throw some things in the back seat quickly. Talking on the phone was one thing, but sitting next to him brought feelings of discomfort.
“I thought it was supposed to be nice today…” He sighs, gazing at the dark clouds and the raindrops on the window. His voice tinged with sadness.
“The world doesn’t owe us anything.” You reply, sounding harsh.
You feel his eyes on you, searching and questioning you. The way you responded was unexpected. This bitter woman wasn't you.
You hate that he makes you feel weak and exposed and doubt your decisions.
“Stop.” You snap at him, trying to sound angry and confident but only sounding hurt and insecure. “Don't make me doubt myself for letting you in again.” You warn.
He shakes his head, shoulders slumped in defeat. He looks away from you as if avoiding your eyes. He breathes out heavily, revealing his exhaustion.
Rory knows this isn't the best time to bring this up, but he needs to get it off his chest, and after today, who knows when he'll see you again? “You know, I didn’t divorce you to hurt you.” He says in a quiet voice as if admitting a mistake. “I did it because I thought it would be better for both of us. I hoped you would heal and move on like I've tried to.” He meets your gaze again, his blue eyes filled with pain and longing. “I still love you and want the best for you.” He adds softly, making your heart clench. “But I couldn’t stay with you like this. It was tearing me apart to see you suffer and not be able to help you. I felt like I lost both of you.”
“So you decided to leave me alone in that house by myself with all of our things and all of her things and expected me to heal? How could you be so heartless?” You bite your lip, holding back the tears that threaten to spill. “You know what? Forget it..” You say, shaking your head. "I needed my husband...that's what I needed, and you walked away so easily."
“I didn’t want to leave you and it sure as fuck wasn’t easy! (Y/n), you stopped trying! She was gone for a full year! I didn’t know how to deal with it either. There was no guide for what we went through.” He tries to explain, but you can’t listen to him.
You scoff, “Yeah, right. Blame it on me. That’s what you always do. I get it!”
You pull into the cemetery’s parking lot and hastily park the car as if trying to escape him. The sky is a dull gray, reflecting your mood. The air is cold and damp, making you shiver.
You avoid looking at him as you leave the vehicle. You can feel his eyes on you, full of questions, when he sees you approaching him instead of walking away like you usually would. You pull the car door open and glare at him like you’re going to scold him, but your eyes soften when you see him lower his head, “You act like I don’t understand what you’re going through,” He whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. “I lost Gracie too, remember?” He reminds you.
You shake your head, tears filling your eyes and streaming down your face. "No, you don't understand. You don't have to live with knowing you're the reason she's gone." You say bitterly, feeling resentment towards him. "You have a life, a future, a chance to be happy again. I have nothing. Nothing but this pain that won't go away." You say, pointing at your chest.
He reaches out to touch your hand, but you pull away.
"Don't." You warn him. "Don't try to comfort me. Don't try to make me feel better. Don't try to pretend that everything is going to be okay because it's not." You say.
He gets out of the car and stands next to you. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close to him, ignoring your protests and struggles. He’s getting better at ignoring your spew of mean words.
He holds you tight as if afraid to let you go. He kisses the top of your head and whispers in your ear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there for you when you needed me most.." His voice trembles with emotion. "But we can find a way to heal and move on." He says, hoping his words will reach you and make you feel something other than anger.
You stop fighting and let him hold you, exhausted and drained from the emotional turmoil.
"I'm tired of being like this." You mutter against his chest. "I don't want to be like this, but it hurts so much." You confess.
He gently rubs your back, trying to soothe you. "I know." He kisses your temple, feeling your tears wet his skin. "Let me help you."
But you don't want his help. You fear he'd abandon you again.
You shove him away, escaping his embrace. You stare at him with a blend of sorrow and fury. “You can’t help me.” You snap, turning your back on him. “I don’t deserve to be happy again.” You nearly choked on your words, part of you knowing it wasn't true.
Rory’s mouth falls open, stunned by your words. He watches you walk away from him, feeling powerless and hopeless. He wishes he could make you forgive yourself, but he knows he can’t. He knows he’s losing you and fears it won’t be just mentally much longer.
Part 3
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Can we have a Morpheus x Reader in the style of Phantom of the Opera? Thanks!
Inside My Mind
Dream of the Endless x Opera Singer!Reader
Summary: He was the phantom of the opera making you lose your mind.
Word Count: 3k+
Warnings: Dark!Dream, Yandere!Dream, graphic depictions of violence/obsession/manipulation, fem!reader, smut/smutty allusions (dub con, fingering, vaginal penetration, marking, corruption kink) Phantom of the Opera AU, Set in Victorian Era, angst ig, typos, etc.
A/N: another MINORS DNI fic lol YES YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES HOW DID YOU COME UP WITH THIS THIS IS AMAZING I LOVE THIS YES YES YES So, for obvious reasons, the plot of phantom of the opera is tweaked because dream is not 'grotesque' like the phantom in the real story. ALSO THIS EXPLODED INTO A DARK YANDERE FIC NONNIE I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE DARK FICS COS THIS GETS PRETTY DARK T_T this was supposed to be a slow burn because i got so excited for it, but then suddenly i was not excited at all and was unable to write anything, like fr it was so hard to write this so im only writing the highlights in my head im so sad i cant write this T_T PLEASE READ THIS FIC WITH THIS BECAUSE ITS SO BEAUTIFULLY ORCHESTRATED Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9
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He was in his private booth with no one except Hob. Dream, in the length of his existence, no longer finds the same wonder as his friend, whose very eyes sparkle at the performance before him. But then his ears catch the echo of the song from behind the stage, from deep behind the opera house. "I say, they-" Hob starts, but when he turns to his side, his companion is no longer there. Dream watches her in the shadows, basking in her voice as she sings the song being performed with more heart than he ever thought possible, before making himself known. When he does, she starts, dropping the mop she was using on the floor. The sight of her face excites him. She is laced in nervousness when she manages to ask, "who are you?" "I am your Dream."
I remember how it was before, how it was in the beginning. When he was my Dream, who came to me with sincerity and gentleness.
I look out to the dim lit bathroom as I wash my arms in the fragrant water of my tub. I deflate in loneliness, "will you not show yourself to me tonight either, my Dream?"
A chill runs down my spine when the wind blows across me.
I gasp at the feeling of warmth on my cheeks.
I look out to the empty room, "Dream?"
Yes, my love.
I frown at the sound his voice, for the speaker nowhere in sight.
"Where are you?" I mutter softly.
I am attending to imperative business right now. I cannot be with you in my physical form.
I frown, "you've left me again?"
Sadness creeps up on me when he does not respond.
"You've left me again, my Dream. I'm all alone without you."
I sink down deeper in the tub as I hear him call out my name. My brows furrow at the sound of him.
You are not alone. You are never alone. I am always with you, my love, even when my form cannot be there. Always.
A bitter tear threatens to spill from my eyes, "it doesn't feel like it... are you not going to watch my debut? It's tomorrow night already."
My breath hitches when the I feel a ghost of a touch trail down my spine. Goosebumps rise all around me.
Nothing will stop me from watching you perform.
My heart leaps in my throat. I bite my lip at the thought as I feel myself break into a soft smile.
"I wish you weren't so busy. Then I wouldn't have to keep talking to you in my bathroom. It's the only other place quiet enough for you to hear me."
My shoulder tenses when the sound of his laughter echoes.
My dear, do you think there is a place on any plane that I would not hear your calls for me?
I knit my brows, "but you never respond to me anywhere else, my Dream, only here, and in my bedroom when Meg is not around."
Oh, beloved, there is so much that you do not yet understand about your Dream.
I pout, "then explain it to me," I rise from my tub, leaning on the side, looking out into the emptiness, "I am not a child."
I shudder when I feel a hand on my cheek. I place my own hand on the area, but it's not the same.
In due time, my love. I will reveal myself, my whole truth to you, in due time.
That was the beginning of the sweetness.
I remember vividly, as well, the first time he ever touched me. It was not like how one would touch a friend or maybe even a stranger. He touched me in the way I had never been touched before.
I hadn't understood the concept of the Dreaming yet, and so I was simply shocked to have met him in a park when he came up behind me. He had to explain to me that we were in his realm.
The soft smile on his lovely face at the time was enough to make me do anything he wished.
His lips found mine as his arms wrapped around me.
He did not give me time to ask any other questions spinning through my mind at that moment; I quite frankly didn't mind. His attentions on my skin and the kisses he left were more than enough.
And then he started to lift my skirt.
"Dream," I call as goosebumps rise on my skin. My Dream does nothing but pull me closer and move my clothing away so that he can touch my bare skin.
I jolt and whimper at his touch.
"Hush, my love," he mutters against my neck, "I swear to you that I will bring you nothing but pleasure, just as I have intended all along."
I am still tense when I feel his fingers move into me. I squeak and wrangle against him, but eventually the foreign and inexplicable want that builds within inside my being makes me lean into him and yearn more for his touch.
"My beautiful ge-"
I gasp when I hear my name being called in a panic.
Meg is looking down at me with worry laced all over her features, "have you had a nightmare?"
I turn to his, propping my elbows up as I stare at my friend.
She continues, knowing I was in pure confusion, "you were groaning and whimpering in your sleep."
I feel blood rise up my cheeks.
Meg knits her brows, caressing my cheek, "are you ill, my love? You've got a hotness about you."
"No," I shake my head, offering a bashful smile, "I am well, Meg. It was just my... my Dream."
It would then be Meg who truly experienced a nightmare, unshakeable ones at that. But at the time, I did not know it was my Dream's punishment for interrupting us.
That was what it used to be like living in the bliss of my naivete.
Even though I suppose it was always there, my Dream's darkness, it only became real when I allowed myself to see it.
My Dream started to turn into my Nightmare when I was reunited with my childhood friend, Raoul.
I had obviously been excited to see him again at the opera house. Raoul told me it was destiny. I felt uncomfortable by the idea that my Dream's brother would ever allow such a thing, but I did not tell Raoul that.
Whenever he visited me, Raoul offered me roses for each of my performances that he watched, and he made so to watch every performance I had, even going as far as being a patron of the opera, so to be able to watch me practice.
I, of course, was ecstatic to have my friend around. But Dream did not share my sentiment.
At first, my Dream acted cold. He acted hurt. He told me-
"I've heard his thoughts, he wishes to steal you away, to claim you as his own, to corrupt you," he seethes, gripping me by my arms, "do you want that?"
"No!" I shake my head rapidly.
"Do you want him to take my greatest and sweetest love away from me?" he mumbles, pushing me against the vanity. We were in the privacy of the diva dressing room, as I was now the diva of the show.
"No, my Dream," I frown at him, grabbing his face as he hoists me on the surface. I help him push my clothing up so that my exposed thighs could straddle his hips.
He begins to undo his trousers as he nods his head, "you belong to me, don't you, beloved?"
I lick my lips in anticipation of him while I nod myself, stealing a glance between his face and what his hands were working on, "I am yours, my love."
He pushes against my face with his as he presses a kiss on my cheek bone, "and I am yours, eternally."
I nibble my lips when he exposes himself. I let out a loud groan when he enters me.
"Pretty girl," he praises, "let them all hear who makes you feel this good."
I suppose, in fact, it was my fault that he snapped.
But it was not as though I could control who I dreamt about. And it was not like my dreams were something he should have readily dove into.
Dream had asked me, "do you want him?"
"Who?"
"Your childhood flame," he quips coldly, "Raoul."
I told him I didn't. Why wouldn't I when I was so in love with him?
But later that night, I dreamt of him, of Raoul. I was walking with my childhood friend in my childhood home. We were holding hands the way we did when I was younger. He was recounting his travels to me as we walked around the halls. I laughed when he joked he would steal me away. I joked that I would let him if he gave me all his chocolate.
And then Raoul turned into smoke. And then I was holding no one in my hand.
My childhood home began to crumble, and in my fear and panic, I begin to run. The walls broke down and the ceiling fell behind me.
It was a wonder that I made it outside.
But then I my soul nearly left me when I was grabbed by my arms and faced with a dark face.
A shiver ran down my spine when my Dream squeezed me and quipped, "you lied to me."
I panted as I looked at his face, drawn with fury, loathe, and madness.
"You told me you did not want him," my Dream hisses, jaw tight along with his accusation, "you did not want him to take you away from me, but you do!"
My breath hitches as his hands grab my cheeks and forces me to look up at him, "you think he could ever measure up to me? You think I would ever let you find out your inevitable disappointment?"
I grab onto his coat as I feel fear crawl up my spine.
"What makes you think I'd let you leave me? You are not meant to leave me-- you're never leaving!"
I release a shudder, "my Dream, please."
The darkness and tension on his face begin to unravel as tears begin to streak my face.
"You are mine," he words carefully, "you belong to me."
Out of instinct, I find myself nodding at his words as I repeat to him, "I am yours, my Dream, only yours." My lips begin to quiver as I am overcome by emotion.
He seems to be satisfied with my admission. He withdraws his harsh hold on my cheek and exhales deeply. He leans his forehead onto mine, his arms make their way around me.
I begin to sob into his chest when he pulls me close. He shushes me, "No," he mutters, "no, enough. Hush now, all is well. I would never hurt you, never you. Do not be frightened."
I hide my face in his clothing, he strokes my hair.
"I do not want to see you with that man ever again."
I do not respond to him.
He nuzzles against me as he breathes in heavily, "mine."
I really did try my best to stay away from him, but Raoul was always very persistent. He never liked losing when we were younger, and it seems his virtue only grew as time went by.
I told him we could no longer be friends, and his responses were nothing but childish, because he told me the notion was nothing but childish.
Then one day, he got me to laugh at his attempts.
I froze when Raoul said, "finally, I may be able to sleep well tonight, now that I've heard your laughter."
"Have..." my brows knit, "you not been sleeping well?"
It was painfully clear to me all of a sudden how heavy his eyes were and how tired the smile he gave me was, "I have been plagued by nightmares, little butterfly."
Raoul rubs my chin with the pad of his thumb, "do not grow uneasy by the thought. Your smile is medicine enough to my ailment."
The following day, he would not go back to the opera. Two days after that I would learn that he has not woken up from his deep sleep.
Dream acted as though nothing was wrong the entire time, and in my deep feeling of bewilderment, I began to avoid him-- hide from him. At first it was simply by ignoring him, then once caught, I acted as though I did not realize he was there to begin.
After a while, when I could feel him draw near, I would make attempts to flee him, except, there as no escape from Dream.
"Beloved," he appears from nowhere right in front of me, "why are you hiding?" He reaches out to my cheek.
My heart is thumping wild in my chest when he pulls me close, "was my darling playing a delightful little game to excite me?"
"Dream-"
"Well, I've found you now," he says, peering close, as his hands travel down my body, "I deserve my prize."
My breath begins to hitch when he roughly rips my skirt up. I grab ahold of his arms. His lips curve into a small smile as he watches me. He absolutely relishes the pounding pulse echoing in his ears. Dream leans down and leaves wet kisses on my neck, eliciting soft yelps from me when he begins to suck and graze my skin with his teeth.
"Cover my marks again," he breathes in between kisses, "I will give you more."
I whine when I feel his fingers find their way to my core. I begin to squirm, unsure of whether or not I want him to continue.
“Tell me how much you love me,” he mutters against my neck as his arms around me contrict
"Dream."
"I feel as though I'm suffocating when I’m not with you," he sighs, fingers fondling with my heat quicker, "if you leave me, I will cease."
His breathing grows heavy. He sucks in a sharp breath when I cry out at the feel of fingers enter my pooling wetness.
"Nothing will ever come between us," he croons, "I will destroy anything that comes in our way."
Though Dream's ministrations were something I had grown accustomed to, and even something I looked forward to, there was something about this moment that left a foreign feeling in me.
He made me feel so, so good, and yet, it felt so... wrong.
Then one day, it was I that snapped.
Everything that he's done, giving Meg nightmares, trapping Raoul in a constant state of dreaming, intimidating me then telling me he was nothing without me, all of the twisted things he'd done made me realize his love was demented, and it took performing one of his plays.
He had taken it too far by inspiring the maestro to write about our love story: a man who did the extremes for his lover, and how his lover had no choice but to accept his actions for the alternative was to remained shackled in the dark until his love was accepted.
I overheard the dancers talking about how this was the most tragic story yet, and how they're glad such a man did not exist.
I performed the arias with tears, danced with such desperation. I sang with so such sorrow that the whole house broke into tears.
Yet I saw him through my blurry eyes, I saw him smile at me with satisfaction
He did exist, this cruel lover, but he was not a man, he was Dream of the Endless, the phantom of the opera.
So I ran. I ran leaving everything, taking nothing but a coat and money to get away as far away as I could from my prison of an opera.
It was foolish, I knew. His words echoed in my mind-- "My dear, do you think there is a place on any plane that I would not hear your calls for me?"
The fact was he did not need my call for him to know where I was. But I would rather die trying than not at all.
It was very much like Dream to come and get me when I had myself believing I had a chance to get away.
My carriage stopped in the middle of the road with a loud cry of the horse and the driver.
I did not want to come out, I did not make a move to, because I knew he was right outside.
Really, there was nothing stopping him from manifesting inside my tiny carriage, and yet he still pounded on my door from the outside and demanded that I come and face him.
When I did not reply, he forced my door open, making me turn to him with wide eyes and taxed breath.
I cannot lie, I was surprised to see his distraught expression and his unkempt features. I did not think it would be possible for him to appear this way.
Dream reaches out for me. I watch him as his dark expression slips as I raise my hand out to him. I however do not hold him, instead I push him away.
His brows furrow tightly, "you will come with me at once."
A shiver runs down my spine at his command. I fake courage and clench my jaw, "no."
"No?" he tilts his head.
"I do not want to come with you anywhere at all," I mutter coldly.
Dream cannot mask the disbelief and horror on his face. I can see his expression slowly shift into anger as he speaks, "what has made you like this?"
"YOU have made me like this!" I hiss, leaning in, "you are hard and cruel," I shake my head rapidly, "you do not love me."
"I ONLY LOVE YOU!" he barks, removing further the distance between us as he leans forward.
"BUT I DO NOT!" I answer with the same intensity before pulling back.
His face falls. Wind begins to pick up begin him. His eye twitches, "liar."
I hold back tears as I grip my hands tightly. I shake my head slowly this time, "not anymore."
His face twists, he pulls back and his knees nearly buckle.
My heart feels as though it is being squeezed when I look at him. I cannot lose my advantage now, "I used to believe you were once my sweet Dream, but you are nothing more than a twisted nightmare."
"Stop," he points, "LIAR! That's not true- I- I'm still your Dream! I love you!"
"If you truly loved me, you would let me go!" I quip moving towards him, "you have to let me go, Dream."
"You cannot leave me!" he whisper-yells, "I want you to be with me, to stay with me, to love me!" He grips on the side of the carriage door, "even thinking about a world without you, a world where you are with someone else makes me sick."
I retreat from him when he tries to reach out for me. He is hurt by this. He slowly pulls his hand away, "can you at least pretend to love me?"
A chill runs down my spine when he says this.
He grows more desperate when he speaks again, "I implore you, tell me what err I've committed so that I man correct it," he drops on his knees, "I beg you not to leave me."
I turn away from him, rubbing my face as I did, to hide the tears that were threatening to show themselves to Dream, "close the door, Dream."
Dream's desperation leaves him, "no."
His change in tone makes me my blood still. I barely even see him when I turn to him and feel myself fade into darkness.
"If you will not come to me in your own accord," he says, standing, "then I will take you in my own."
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httpsdana · 11 months
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Hi baby I’m back again with an Eric one 🤭🤭 I’m requesting prompt 139 where the reader has had a nap after a bad day and is still tired and comes to Eric crying and he comforts her by running his hair through her hands while she sat in his lap while she’s working and she just cries into him and finds comfort in him.
- love from you biggest fan (me 🤭💖)
Bad Day~Eric Garcia
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*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*
okay so he looks delicious in this GIF i had to use it 🤭
ENJOY MY LOVE <33 this is short btw I'm sorry
you can request from my prompt list
this is my master list
players/drivers I write for
139-"C'mere, you can seat in my lap until I'm done working."
Bad day was an understatement when describing y/n's day. She had an awful horrible day.
When she first woke up, the outfit she had in mind was nowhere to be found so she had to wear one of her least favorite skirts.
As she was putting the last touches of her make up, she felt something weird. She went to bathroom and realized she had gotten her period. With a frustrated groan, she changed her underwear, putting on a pad and making sure to have at least three in her bag.
She was already late, so she stopped by a coffee shop to get her usual morning coffee. She got stuck in traffic and was scolded by her boss when she arrived late to work.
While drinking her coffee, she spilled the last bits of it on her white button up. She felt like she might cry at that moment. Taking a deep breath, she tried focusing on her work.
When she showed her boss what she had been working on all week, only for him to horrifyingly destroy her excitement and blamed her for everything that was going wrong in his company.
That was her breaking point. She took permission to leave early, saying she was feeling sick.
She drove to her house in frustration, trying to control the tears in her eyes. Parking her car, she got out of the car and slammed the door, entering her apartment. She was met with silence.
She let out a sigh realizing that Eric won't be back for a while. She took a hot shower and changed into one of Eric's shirts. She got under the covers and tried to forget her sorrows with a nap
Eric arrived to his appartment and wasn't met by the sound of his girl screaming one of Taylor Swift's songs which was weird (yk I had to mention her)
He saw her asleep in their bed, so he decided to go across some bills while she let her beauty rest.
He chanhdd his clothes and put on his glasses before sitting down on the couch and spread his papers across the coffee table. (Eric with glasses has been on my mind all day)
y/n let out a groan as the cramps started to hit hard. She opened hed eyes, and saw Eric's t-shirt that he was wearing on the floor, indicating that he arrived. She jumped out of bed almost immediately, walking to the living room
Eric felt y/n's presence, making him look up with a smile. When he saw her sad face, with tears in her eyes, his smile dropped quickly.
"amor? what's wrong?" he asked.
She let out a sigh as one tear slipped down her cheek
"I just had a very bad day. Everything seemed to be against me it was so frustrating. And now the cramps are killing me and I just want cry" she sat down next to him, laying her head on his shoulder.
He put his arms around her waist, pulling her up to stand. He patted his lap as he spread his legs a bit.
"C'mere, you can seat in my lap until I'm done working." he said with his usual comforting smile
She cracked a small smile and sat down on his lap. He lifted on hand to the back of her head, running his fingers through her strands while she cried more into his chest
"its okay. let it all out baby" he whispered sweet nothings into her ear to clam her down
"how about we order some food and eat some ice cream after that?" he suggested after her sobs calmed down a bit
She looked up at him with a smile, wiping her tears as she nodded. He smiled back and leaned in to her, nose brushing against hers, before he connected their lips into a sweet kiss
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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year
Note
Hi, can you write a fic (azriel x reader) inspired by the song "Mercy" of Shawn Mendes, where he says "I'm prepared to sacriface my life i wolud gladly do it twice"? Maybe the reader o Azriel can say it before a war/battle... You can choose the ending happy/sad.
Hope this makes sense!
Thank you, hope you are having an amazing day! :)))
Ooh I love that request<33 hope this is what you imagined and that you have an amazing day as well!!
Azriel x Reader | Prepared to Sacrifice
type: angst  warnings: none word count: 1069
*all rights reserved*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were part of the Valkyries and even though you had taken quite a big blow just the other day you knew you would fight again that day. Azriel, your mate, would not be too please about it. You hoped he was already on the battlefield and would only find out later. What he did not know would not hurt him…or so.
Well, Azriel wasn’t on the battlefield then and obviously saw you leave the healers tent. He followed you when you lead your pegasus towards the battlefield, his fingers quickly curling around your wrists to pull you back. 
“Don’t!” he blurted out when you spun around and met his gaze. 
“Az,” you breathed, searching his gaze. HIs eyes displayed nothing but worry and agony. He was terrified. 
“I have to. It is my job. I am a Valkyrie, I promised loyalty to my sisters.”
Closing his eyes, your mate shook his head. “It is so dangerous. You are not even fully healed. “I am, Az. I am fully healed.” A single tear left your mate’s eye when he pulled you closer to him. His hands moved from your wrists up his arms, smoothing over your skin, until the landed on your shoulders. The shadowsinger drew in a deep breath, leaned forward and kissed your forehead. His moved his palms over your skin, up to your jaw.
Azriel held your face in his scarred, trembling hands. Tears ran down his cheeks while he assessed you. “I am prepared to sacrifice my life. I would gladly do it twice. I would sacrifice my whole damn life, but I cannot lose you. You have to be careful. And you have to return to me. Promise me that. Return to me.”
There was so much pain in his voice. He sounded so broken. Your heart was ripped apart and you quickly moved your hands over his. His saying had drawn tears to your eyes and a heavy sob left your throat. “I will, Azriel. I will. I promise, but you have to promise me the same.
“Losing you would shred me apart, you know that.”
You squeezed your mate’s hands. “Azriel, I know—“ “You don’t understand. If you no longer were I would not want to live on.”
You swallowed thickly after that revelation. You could also not stand the thought of losing Azriel, but hearing him say that out loud did something to your heart. And to your eyes.
You quickly snuck your arms around his torso, pulling your mate as close to you as possible. “Oh, Azriel,” you breathed, “don’t worry. I will come back. I promise it. For us. For our future. I will come back!”
Azriel exhaled loudly, his chin now resting on top of your head. His own arms wrapped around you tightly, his wings providing an extra shield from the outside world. “You are my world. You make me complete and I would give my life for you. It shreds my heart apart seeing you hurt, Y/N. I am sorry that I am so over-protective at times, but I just…” Azriel’s voice was hoarse, breaking when a silent sob ripped itself free.
“I cannot lose you. I feel truly happy and complete for the first time in my life. And that only because of you. A life without you would not be a life I longer would want to live in.”
“The same goes for me, Azriel. I cannot lose you either. But we won’t lose each other. We are warriors. We can do this!”
It was only after long minutes that you finally let go of each other, both stepping back before sharing a short yet passionate kiss. 
“I’ll see you later. Fit and in one piece!” you told Azriel upon mounting your pegasus.
Azriel dipped his chin as an answer, a single tear rolling down his face. “Take care, my love!”
The battle had been bloody and cruel—what was left was ruin and destruction. Thousands of death warriors lay on the ground, limbs torn and torso bloody. You screamed your mate’s name from the bottom of your lungs. You had lost Azriel out of sight at one point, couldn’t see him anymore over the fighting warriors and dirt and blood. Now the battle was over, the war won but your mate was no where in sight. “AZRIEL!” You tried it again, wiping the blood and mud from your face and eyes to get a better sight. “Azriel, where are you?” you breathed, tears mixing with the dirt on your skin.
Heavy, aching limbs finally carried you back to what had once been your shared tent. There you only met an equally exhausted and devastated Cassian.
“Can’t find him. I search everywhere. Even where I had last seen him!” Your heart shattered into pieces, knees giving out and a loud sob breaking free. You wailed, screaming from the bottom of your lungs. It couldn’t be true. That was not at all what you had wanted the general to say—what you had wanted to hear from him. You had thought you would return and Cassian had found him.
You had made each other a promise that you would return, that you would have a future.
 You could not believe it, could not believe that you couldn't find him. You tried to push the thoughts away—thoughts of never seeing your mate again. But then….then the bond was still there. Over the fear and the pain from your wounded limbs you hadn’t felt the bond. It was still alive, it was still here, it was—
“Y/N…”
Arms wrapped around you from behind, curling around your waist as tightly as possible. “Don’t. I am here. I am back. Stop crying!” Azriel’s voice sounded weak, broken and exhausted. You clawed at him. Sucking in one sharp breath after the other, your heart racing. You said your mate’s name over and over again, finally shifting in his arms and clawing at him. “You are here. I haven’t lost you.” “You haven’t,” Azriel assured you, kissing your forehead. “You haven’t.”
“I also wouldn’t have known how to live on without you,” you told your mate, hands still holding tightly onto him, your chest pressed against his. “Neither would have I. It is us —you and I—until the end of time. Until the end of the world. Forever the two of us.”
“Forever, Azriel.”
tags: @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbitxh @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003
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mitsuki91 · 1 month
Text
Another day another prompt 💃
Snowbaird Valentine Event
This is the first story in chronological order! I am super excited to post. It's more heavy then the others, but, oh well...
As usual thank to @snowbaird-events and @burntblueberrywaffles and all the discord snowbaird server 🥰
6. Rainbow
He remembers it as if only one day had passed.
The slow search in the forest, the rifle weighing in his arms, the growing concern for Lucy Gray who did not answer his call. The orange shawl on a bramble, dirty and abandoned; the terror that paralyzed him and then the pain of the snake bite.
And then his head, which split in half.
Kneeling on the hard ground of the forest, looking at the wound on his arm, time stretched on and on. The damn birds began to sing. The terror that Lucy Gray is lost or hurt is swept away by the burning sensation of betrayal; the rain falls and he feels it like bullets on his head, on his body. 
"Lucy Gray!" a scream filled with frustration as rejection takes hold of him, as it paralyzes him, as he cannot believe that, that she, that....
And, then, two arms wrap around him.
"I'm here," Lucy Gray murmurs, her head resting on his back, "I'm here, Coriolanus. It is not poisonous. It's not poisonous, I swear."
Coriolanus does not know whether it is reality or a dream - a nightmare - and he crumples in on himself, grabs his head. He closes his eyes and the world is a kaleidoscope; he is in a house of mirrors, where Lucy Gray's songs bounce and taunt him, where those damned birds do not stop tormenting him. He sees them, even with his eyes closed. He sees their beaks now pointed, their little legs full of deadly claws.
"Make them stop" he sobs, as he cries in agony "Make them stop".
The only foothold he has with reality is the grip of Lucy Gray's arms on his waist. She anchors him, holds him still, shuts off all excess as he feels himself dying inside little by little, as betrayal mingles with rejection and finally pain.
As he turns back, slowly, one labored step at a time.
She, who is singing, perhaps to try to console him, perhaps to stem the enormous panic attack that has pervaded him, stops. The Mockingjays echo her notes for the last time and then the forest fades away; only the sound of rain remains.
Coriolanus calms down. Slowly, as the minutes tick by, he comes to recognise what is tangible and what is not. The grip on his waist. The weight of Lucy Gray on his back.
Real or not real?
With difficulty he pulls his fingers away from his head, frees his ears from the hands he had pressed against them, in an attempt to turn off any noise - real or imaginary. He opens his eyes. He straightens his back, one painful inch at a time.
He turns around, inhaling at the top of his lungs.
And she is there.
Lucy Gray is there. She's still holding him by the waist but she's flinched, to be seen.
"Forgive me" she tells him, the tears on her face mingling with the rain "I was afraid".
Coriolanus bursts into tears again and holds her in his arms. Lucy Gray caresses him, comforts him. She no longer sings, does not allow the birds to imitate her, to torture him again. She merely waits for him to vent everything with tears, until Coriolanus feels drained and without strength.
Eventually, they break away. They stand up. Lucy Gray grabs the rifle and Coriolanus grabs the shawl. They hold each other's hand.
They walk back to the hut by the lake.
The rain slows down and, by the time they arrive, it has disappeared completely. They sit on the shore of the lake, indifferent to the wetness. They are already soaked from head to toe.
Lucy Gray puts the gun down behind her and takes the shawl from his hands; she drapes it around her shoulders again. She smiles, but her eyes are still sad.
"You lied to me, Coriolanus" she tells him, neutral, without accusing him "And then I saw it. I saw, in your eyes, when we found the weapons, that you were thinking of leaving me."
Coriolanus has no excuse. What Lucy Gray is telling him is true.
He turns his face away, stares at the horizon, for he does not have the courage to look her in the face.
"... I was lying to myself" he whispers finally "Because if I say it, I must also admit that it is true".
Lucy Gray sighs.
"Sejanus?"
Coriolanus nods.
"I thought his father saved him" he finally admits "I tried to save him. They denied me the call" he turns again to look at her "I swear, Lucy Gray" he concludes, fiery.
Because it is the truth. It is the truth and also the only way he can live with himself now.
Lucy Gray caresses his cheek and smiles. She is still sad. There is still the second unfinished business between them.
"You are not made for this life, Coriolanus."
Coriolanus closes his eyes and leans against her hand. He inhales deeply, and then turns back to the horizon.
The rainbow has sprung up.
"We'll make it work," he replies, his mind back to work - healthy again, ready to look for the best way out.
"How?" asks Lucy Gray.
Coriolanus begins to speak, staring at the rainbow. The serenity after the rain. The promise of a thousand colors.
Lucy Gray, his girlfriend.
Whom he plans to save, paying any price.
***
At the base no one noticed his little outing that morning. The nurse to whom he shows his arm reassures him that the bite is not poisonous, and that it is normal for snakes to come out of their lair during the rain.
Coriolanus faces his last days as a Peacekeeper in District Twelve, before being transferred. The searches are still going on; Mayor Lipp is still inconsolable, wracked with grief - he is still staring at the Covey house, eyes out of their sockets, looking for a culprit he will not find. The weapons are safe at the bottom of the lake. Lucy Gray stands guard over their grave, waiting for the all-clear.
Coriolanus searches the Coveys' wretched house under the watchful eye of the mayor and manages to tell Barb Azure in half a voice where Lucy Gray is and why she is there. The house is clean. The Peacekeepers continue their tour.
And, finally, they arrive at the mayor's house. Coriolanus did not even have to make an effort to get the general to accept his suggestion. "It's obvious the mayor didn't kill his daughter, but wouldn't it be a smart move for the Rebels to hide the weapons in the one place we'll never check?" The search is approved. Coriolanus slips into the kitchen with an excuse.
He recognised the signs, in the pallor of Mayor Lipp's face, in his bloodshot eyes, in his never-quenched anger. He has spent a lifetime behind Professor Sickle's skirts, he can tell when a person has decided to drown their pain in a bottle. And slipping white powder - rat poison - into the half-open bottle in the kitchen is child's play.
The next day he will be in District Two. Less than a week and Lipp will already be dead.
Lucy Gray will be able to go home.
***
Things went better than expected.
Coriolanus wasn't sent to Two, but he went home. He won the Plinth Prize and Dr Gaul has taken him under her wing. He'll pretend to follow her and her beliefs to exploit her connection with President Ravinstill and, then, when he's sure of his role in society - Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panem - he'll end the charade and get rid of her too.
Meanwhile, he just took care of old Dean Highbottom. That was personal, of course, but still related to Lucy Gray. If he hadn't sent her home, if he hadn't expelled him and forced him to join the Peacekeepers... If, if, if.
He risked losing her. His Lucy Gray, his precious songbird.
He risked losing her in more ways than one - he doesn't like to think about it, he doesn't want to admit it even to himself, but Coriolanus knows that as his head cracked, if Lucy Gray hadn't been ready to grab hold of him and keep him grounded in reality, he would have risked stepping beyond the insane and the unforgivable.
For this, Highbottom deserved to die.
That is why Coriolanus knows that, from now on, he will do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. Without any more qualms; without any more moral restraint.
Coriolanus walks the streets of Capitol City, hugging himself in his red coat to counter the air that has become crisp. Dawn has dawned a few hours ago, but it has rained during the night, and the winter sun has failed to chase away the moisture that now seeps into his bones.
He reaches the huge roundabout before the Corso, imagining the Dean writhing as the poison-corrected Morphamine takes effect, and suddenly he sees it: behind the Statue of Justice a rainbow rips through the sky, filling it with hope.
Coriolanus smiles. He thinks about how Dr Gaul approved not only his Victory Tour project, but also his request to have Lucy Gray move to the capital, and then perhaps the Coveys, the following year. What better way to introduce Panem to its Victor than to have her seen happy and surrounded by the loved ones she risked losing in the Hunger Games? Hope, mixed with the pain of remembering those who did not survive. Bread with which to nourish Panem and its Districts, in a way that is congenial to his Mentor and at the same time allows him to hold on to his Lucy Gray.
“Of course I will take care of everything,” recalls the conversation with Dr Gaul “Lucy Gray and the Coveys will be my welcome guests. Pluribus Bell has offered its club to allow them to practice and perform for curious citizens. Don't worry, I have everything under control”.
Control.
Gaul's favorite word, the sure way to gain her approval.
Wonderful as the rainbow after the rain; Lucy Gray and her colors, which he will see again in a few days.
Wait for me, my love , he thinks, eager to fulfill the promise he made to her on the shores of the lake, I will come for you.
And then nothing will be able to separate us any more.
💖💖💖
Link on ao3:
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cinnabun-faerie · 1 year
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I once saw an ask for Scions reacting to WoL who doesn't return from the fight in Endwalker. So might I request the Scions reacting to finding the WoL's personal journal after they don't return? It's log entries and drawings from all the expansions from A Realm Reborn up until Endwalker. It tells things like their carriage ride to the city state they resided in, the first time the heard Hydaelyn/when they got the Echo, to meeting the Scions and by association the twins. Just personal entries of everyone they met and everything they did. There's even little charms and gifts from some of the people and little portraits of the people they've encountered and the places they've seen.
I just need the Scions to react to the final message, presumably written preemptively before the final fight, as the WoL contingency and final words should they not make it out in the end. It states how happy they were to have met all of them, how they changed their life and had the chance to change theirs. And that they will meet again, either in this life or perhaps the next. And that they were honored to have been the Scion's very own Warrior of Light.
I hope this isn't asking too much.
Scions React to the journal you left behind after you didn't come back from the fight in Endwalker
A/N: Damn. So we are breaking hearts and causing tears today, eh? Alright, I'm down with that. My heart is shattered on the floor. Excuse me as I put on my 'Sad songs playlist'
Honestly though, thank you very much for this ask, Anon! ^-^
As they're connected, you can find the previous ask here : WoL doesn't return after the final fight in Endwalker
Warning: ANGST, Heartache, already established character death, mourning, breakdowns
FFXIV taglist:  @missnella-nova @shippyprincess @healersadjust  @thai @lumeriadeborel @obscene-tevene  @losingmymindinglitter @gudaworks @midromiell  @kanouizumi3104 @msrussian
If you'd like to be added to the taglist, you can comment here on the original post !
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Alisaie
She would not want to touch the book. She hated that you were gone. She hated that she couldn't save you like you had saved her so many times. It would take her months for her to even hold the book in her hands before setting it back down. She was not ready yet.
When she was finally ready to see what you had written, she would decide to pace herself. She could only read so much before she'd breakdown into tears. Once she got to the end, reading your last message, she would scream out a painful cry. Alphinaud would be beside her in an instant, lending his shoulder for her to cry on.
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Alphinaud
He needed to read the journal. For him, it was as you were still with him. But yet it was a like a final goodbye. He would find comfort in the telling and retelling of your adventure. Despite the tears in his eyes, he'd smile when you'd say how proud you were of him. To mean so much to you, it was truly an honor.
"Goodbye, my friend."
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Estinien
Once he had his hands on the journal, he went where no one else could find him. He just needed to be alone to mourn the loss of you. To know of your journey from beginning to end by your words written meant everything to him. With every word, he could hear your voice in his head as if you were telling him yourself. It was amusing to see your entries of when you met him. Ever the shining light, you were. His hand would grip the pages when he'd read your last entry, where you expressed how much he meant to you. When he heard the sound of tearing, he loosened his grip and checked for the damages.
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G'raha Tia
He would know of your journal as you told him where it was before you both had left on your journey. It's as if you'd known all along what would happen. You knew you weren't come back. His heart hurt at the mere thought. But you had wanted him to take the book. And though it was in his hand, he would hesitate to open it. But eventually, he would and he would cry when he reads each and every page. His fingers would trace the letters on the pages where you mention him.
When he'd get to your final page, his hands would be shaking. To have been so important to you, meant to much to him. He was just thankful that he got to be apart of your story. And he'd make sure your memory would live on through him and your stories.
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Thancred
He wasn't sure if he could read your journal. It was painful enough to know that you were gone. But after talking with Y'shtola & Urianger, he would decide to read it. Reliving some memories of you were comforting. You always had this ability to make him smile, no matter what. It gave him the strength to continue on, to fight on. He'd carry your memory with him forever. And no matter what, you'd be right in his heart.
When he'd read the last page, he let out a side and a chuckle. You had a way with words. And to know that he was everything to you as you were to him, he was thankful.
Although you will not be able to see me, just know that I will forever be by your side. Fight on, my lights.
"Even in the end, you are the hope that we need."
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Urianger
When he's given your journal, he holds himself up in a room in the Waking Sands to read passage by passage. And before he could get to the very last page, he would close the book. All he has left of you is here in his hands. He just wasn't ready to let you go yet. And thus he'd re-read story after story. However, one day he would decide to brave the last past. His heart would ache as he read that he and the others were your light that kept you going.
And with a shaky breathe, he'd whisper, "Thank you, Y/N."
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Y'shtola
Once she'd cease her work of trying to find a way to see you again, she would read your journal. She would read section by section over time. While a book could be re-read many times, she didn't want to do that with your journal. Perhaps she knew that it meant truly that you were gone and there would be nothing more. Your story would end.
No matter how long it would take, she would eventually make it to the final passage in your journal. She'd take a deep breath and brace herself. As she would read your words of how much she and the other Scions meant to you, tears would slip down her cheeks.
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secret-rendezvous1d · 2 years
Note
what if they have a fight and she hangs up on the phone on him while he’s out of the country before a show or if he’s doing a concert in london and she just doesn’t show up because she’s so upset…
"You promised."
"I know but," he sighs and runs a hand through the hanging loops of hair that fell from his fringe, tightening a fist around a handful and tugging out of frustration, "baby, I know."
"But?"
For a moment, he's confused.
"I'm sorry?"
"You said a but in the middle there. But what, Harry? What's more important than coming home for your girlfriend's birthday? A party that you helped me organise. That you helped me prepare for. That you said you were excited for and would be here for," there's anger lacing her words. She's not even trying to hide away the upset she feels coursing through her, filling her veins with red-hot anger that's making her shake in her place in her kitchen entryway, "you promised me, Harry, so there shouldn't be a but in that sentence."
"It's work."
"Again. It's always work, Harry."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I'm always second best to you. Work, work, work. That's all it is. You cancel on me for work. Date nights are cut short because of work. You're late home because of work. It's always work."
"They pay my bills, YN. That's my job. That's my life."
"And I'm not?"
"For Christs sake," he groans heavily, rolling his head back on the ball of his neck and staring at the ceiling above him. He wants to shout at her and he wants to swear at her (not that he would ever air any of their grievances in front of his crew nor in front of his friends) and he wants to grab her by the shoulders and push it into her head, but he couldn't because she was thousands of miles away. "you're putting words into my mouth, YN. That's not anything close to what I'm saying."
The silence from her end makes his chest ache; how could she?
When work called, it was hard for him to say no. When he had fans to please and travel the world to see, radio stations and televised interview to promote his music or his tours, meetings to excel his career, even when Jeffrey was on his case after he just needed a second to breathe. Work was part of him but his girlfriend was his number one; his top priority.
Every spare minute he had, every second that passed, was given to her.
"Babe-"
"Don't, Harry. Just don't."
The anger is still there but he can hear the tears building up in her throat. The anger-fuelled, upset, disappointed tears that he knows are already dribbling down her cheeks. Her speech restricted, the words sounding tight as they rolled off her tongue.
"I'm not ending this conversation like this," he gulps thickly, "please."
"You're going to be late for your show. I'm doing you a favour."
"You're not-"
"Bye, Harry."
"I love you."
The dial tone sounds and, in that moment, his heart truly does break.
*
Twitter was chaotic.
YN had discovered that throughout her relationship with Harry. She still used it and refused to let the negativity get between what she still had a habit for. She still scrolled her dashboard when she was in a nosey mood. And she still put out the occasional tweet when she was in the mood to interact with the numerous tweets she was tagged and mentioned in.
He never wanted social media to become something she couldn't use because of him and he was glad she still had a platform to air her voice and be who she was.
@/Harry_Styles crying at tonight's show had to be the most upsetting thing i've witnessed.
Crying?
The thumping of her heart increased as she read more and more of her mentions. Her timeline full of Harry's show in Toronto; from the outfit he wore to the songs he sung to the small interactions he had with fans as he danced and pranced around on stage.
@/Harry_Styles Baaaaaaabe. Hope you're okay. Wasn't nice seeing you so sad. xx
@/yourtwitter @/harrystyles please tell me his reaction to love of my life wasn't a break-up... i can't cope.
The more she scrolled, the closer she got to finding what had truly happened.
Tears in his eyes, wet cheeks and a shake in his voice as he sang the words to a song he'd sung multiple times over the last few months. A song that didn't hold a meaning behind it that was as deep as people assumed, a song that wasn't meant to bring a tear to anyone's eyes, a song that was used before the encore of his most loved hits that left everyone on a high.
So to see him upset, which rarely happened, flooded her with guilt.
Unsure as to why she felt such a strong urge to scold herself in that moment because why was she feeling so guilty when she had done nothing wrong?
The way Harry speaks about @/yourtwitter is so sweet. He loves her so much. He really found a good one. YN has no idea how lucky she truly is.
"Everything I do, I do with such huge amounts of support behind me. I may be a dickhead sometimes but I'm still lucky to have someone to go home to at night. Someone who loves me for me and my flaws." WHAT FLAWS HARRY? @/yourtwitter
HARRY LOVES @/yourtwitter SO MUCH, OH MY GOD. SUCK IT TO ANYONE WHO SAYS DIFFERENT.
The video plays before her. His voice booming round the quiet stadium, after he'd asked everyone to be silent, and he can't seem to hold back on the emotion he holds deep in his chest.
"I'm just like any normal boyfriend. I'm terrible at keeping promises. But I can tell you this one thing, about her, and that's the fact that she's kept me grounded the last few years. She never let me become someone I'm not. She let me become someone I long to be. Never changed me, never told me to like something because I needed to, I am who I am because of her."
She rolls her eyes but the slightest hint of a smile twitches her lips.
"I love her, I hope you guys love her," he's interrupted for a brief second as the arena erupts into cheers, "and I thank the lucky stars that I have her."
Her bottom lip quivers and, maybe... just maybe... she didn't need to overreact sometimes. Because she was a fool to think he would do anything to upset her on purpose, to think he never cared for her, that he never thought of her when she wasn't around. Because he did. Even in a stadium full of people, fans who had paid to see him, he was still missing her and thinking of her. xx
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twogyuu · 1 year
Note
hey, can i request vernon with i cant run away? the angstier the better!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thank you 💚💚💚
You're Far Away (I'm in the Same Place)
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Pairing: Vernon x gn!reader
Song requested: I Can't Run Away
Synopsis: A series of voicemail messages from your ex-boyfriend left unheard. Alternatively, they say if you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were. But what was Vernon?
Genre: This is literally all just pure angst - you asked, so I delivered 💔
Warnings: Use of profanity, use of alcohol, mentions of food
WC: 860
Taglist: @confuchan @dinonononono
Permanent taglist: @sleeplessdawn @woozarts @wonuziex @rockwidthyou @aceofvernons @nanamioo @bibinnieposts @jeonghanniehae95 @sadkidwarexpert
A/N: Thanks again to @bitchlessdino for beta reading - I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill your request to give him back what he longed for most.
Whirlwind of Days Masterlist
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“Hey! This is Y/N. Sorry I missed your call – leave a message at the tone and I’ll get back to you soon. Cheers!”
Vernon chuckled breathily. 
Cheers. 
You never said good-bye because you claimed they were too sad. Even when he left for New York, all he could remember was the sound of your unironically cheerful voice echoing through the airport terminal, shouting, “Cheers!” as he dragged his carry-on, wheels squeaking across the well-waxed floors. 
The beep of the tone brought him back from his musing. 
“Hey,” Vernon pressed his phone closer to his ear, “Um . . . I’m . . . I made it to New York – all in one piece,” he chortled, sniffling a little, the cold nipping at his nose. “I know we promised not to contact each other to make this break-up easier, but . . . I just wanted to let you know I’m safe; give you some peace of mind, ya know?”
He paused for a moment, blinking away the tears that were welling in his eyes. Because of the frigid air, they froze quickly. Vernon could feel his lashes sticking to the water each time he blinked. 
Does he dare?
The two of you made a pact: A mutual and clean break up when he moved to New York. No contacts to prevent the heartbreak from hurting for longer than necessary. 
Vernon does dare – the heart wants what it wants. 
“I miss you already,” Vernon finally said, loud and clear into the receiver. “I hope you’re safe and doing well. I’d say call me when you get the chance, but . . . let’s just leave it at that,” he let out a heavy sigh before bidding you good-bye. 
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“Hey! This is Y/N. Sorry I missed your call – leave a message at the tone and I’ll get back to you soon. Cheers!”
“Hey,” Vernon smiled softly to himself. He peered down at the white paper bag in his hand. Stuffed inside was a fresh loaf of pan aux raisin bread from a small bakery a couple blocks away from his place. “I was just thinking about you today – I went to Rockefeller Center today to see them light up that huge Christmas tree you always wanted to see. I took a few pictures and posted them on my story for you – if you still use Instagram that is. I know you said you wanted to try living without social media for a bit.”
Jogging up the ice-covered cement steps to his apartment complex, he fished out his keys from his jean pocket. Opening the door, he was enveloped with immediate warmth and the elderly Ms. Jung’s smile. He nodded, throwing her a hand, heading for the elevators. 
“New York is pretty great,” Vernon continued, “I . . . like my new job, my co-workers are alright, except for maybe Jeonghan. He’s my supervisor and he has red hair  – Chan likes to joke that it looks like jokbal. I’m exploring the city little by little. I found a cute hole-in-the-wall bakery where they sell your favorite bread too.” 
He punched the button to go up to the fourth floor. 
“It’d be better with you though,” Vernon said quietly as the elevator doors slid shut together. He peered up at his blurry reflection in the stainless steel wall. He could hardly recognize himself. 
His phone suddenly beeped twice, a robotic voice announcing, “Signal lost.”
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“Hey! This is Y/N. Sorry I missed your call – leave a message at the tone and I’ll get back to you soon. Cheers!”
“Y/N, hi,” Vernon slurred, dragging on the last word. He collapsed onto Chan’s worn brown couch and squeezed his eyes shut. “Happy new years, babe – I miss you so so so so so much,” giggles bubbled from his chest. “Miss you so much it hurts. It’s been like what? Three? Four months? You’d think my heart would ache less by now.” He smacked his chest with his fist as if to make a point. His gaze lingered on the ceiling that was usually an off-white and cracked. Tonight, it was black and blurry. He could've sworn he was seeing stars too. 
Vernon’s voice grew small, pressing his lips into a tight line. “Sometimes, I wonder if you miss me too.”
“Vernon!” Chan called from the other room, “What are you doing?”
“Or have you already found someone else to love?” Vernon pressed on. “You were always easy to love – anyone could see it.”
“Are you drunk calling Y/N, right now?” Chan asked in horror. 
Vernon didn’t answer him though. 
“I love you,” Vernon confessed, ignoring his younger friend. His tears started to flow as he twisted to hide his face in the faux velvet fabric material of the couch. Chan was going to have to work extra hard to get the stains of his snot out now. 
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop – I don’t think I can. Even if I’m on the other side of the world – I can’t run away . . . I won’t run away,” he let out probably his five hundredth heavy and empty breath since getting to New York. 
“I’ll find my way back to you.”
Those were his last words before he blacked out.
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lansalla · 11 months
Text
Tomorrow I'll be brave
I was once asked to write a story in which the music of The Amazing Devil would be integrated into the story of The Witcher. (Some kind of crossover with real world and the world of the Continent).
The bottom line was this: Jaskier never created his music alone. His Muse was always with him. In fact, no one else saw her. 
This story is about The Bard and his Muse.
I know it's pretty weird, but I wrote it anyway. I wrote it all in my native language, and now I decided to translate and share it. English is not my native language, so I apologize for the multiple mistakes.
I am very scared and excited now, I don’t understand why I decided to do this - to publish this work, but I hope this work will give you at least a little pleasure.
Love run, love run
Music sounds inside him gently enveloping his young mind. Two voices, two bright clear voices whimsically intertwine and merge in unison. Little Julian runs across the field. He had just left the warm arms of his mother. The sun pleasantly warms the boy's disheveled top, and already drying July daisies tickle his chubby cheeks in a funny way.
“Where are you, dear! Be careful!”, the bursting and such a native laugh of his mother is heard.
But how can he be careful? He just learned to walk, and the world is so huge and interesting!
The boy runs and laughs merrily, grasses clinging to his small bare feet. Uncertain, like those of a newborn deer, the legs get tangled in the green stems, and the boy falls, not hard, but very annoyingly knocking his knees. Little Julian sits down on the grass, his round little face curls up, he wrinkles his nose, and large transparent tears are already accumulating in his huge, sea-colored eyes.
O let the world come at you, love, Like distant toms a-drumming Love run! The song you know's begun
Hush, hush, dear heart! A soft voice sounds in the boy's head and someone's warm hand gently touches his head. Julian's face smooths out, he smiles. He turned around to greet his mother, but she was still far away, running towards him from the other end of the field. The boy frowns, looks around in confusion.
I'm here. And I will be here. Run, love, run towards the world.
Julian did not have time to consider the woman who was talking to him. Only the edge of a white flying dress and long dark hair fluttering in the wind. She is all wrapped in light.
“Are you a fairy?”, he thinks, because he still doesn’t know how to speak properly,  “Like those about whom my mother reads to me?” “Aha-ha, almost”, a perky laugh, like a thousand bells, is heard in his head, - “Don’t cry, dear, boldly look into the face of this world, and I will help you.”
Again, a boisterous, unfamiliar, but such a pleasant laugh sounds, and, from the very corner of his eye, Julian sees the fluffy tail of a fox flash in the grass.
***
And I love you, don't you know That I'll be with you all along, as long as you are kind To those who are not strong
Don't be sad. You can do anything, you just have to wish, baby.
“Leave me alone. And I'm not a baby”, fourteen-year-old Julian mutters, angrily wiping his tears with his fist, smearing moisture, street dirt and ink on his cheeks, “Don't you understand, they will never, never let me make music?”, and so breaking his voice completely breaks.
The boy's fragile shoulders slumped down. Sharp shoulder blades protrude from under the bright fabric of the shirt, similar to wings that have not yet formed. Julian hides his face in his hands, muffled sobs tearing from his chest, and hot tears streaming between long fingers.
You'll feel my fingers down your back
A soft warm touch on the disheveled dark-haired head and the tense back of the guy relaxes and the tears subside. He removes his hands from his face, but does not take his eyes off the parquet under his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her: again in a dress, always in a dress, flying white or colorful skirts, disheveled long hair and ribbons woven into them, a wide open smile. He can never remember her face. Only some elements, identification signs. But she always remembers her bursting laughter, the smell of flowers and forests that always accompanies her, and hot soothing hands.
“Sorry,” the boy grumbles.
Here, my Julian is finally back.
"And yet I'm not a baby,” he wipes his nose with the back of his hand.
Of course, dear heart, you are no longer a baby. You are a beautiful strong young man. The whole world is in your hands!
“It is in the hands of my parents. You know they won't let me. And, you know, it hurts me.”
He himself says the last word, but her voice echoes him. The guy turns his head, but of course she's not there. He still feels the warm touch of her hand between his shoulder blades, but he does not see her. Julian sighs heavily and shakes his head in resignation.
So write. Write about it, honey.
Either she said it, or the leaves of the trees rustle outside the window. The guy looks at the opening, framed by curtains swaying in the wind, and sees how the fluffy fox froze on the windowsill, looked back at him and darted into the hydrangea bush.
***
Give me two damn minutes and I'll be fine
“Why the hell does it hurt so much?” nineteen-year-old Julian kicks the leg of the bed, and falls on the blanket, covering his head with his hands.
He is already too old to cry, but his eyes sting disgustingly, and his heart, it seems, will now shatter into pieces from unbearable pain. The guy again and again scrolls in his head the offensive words that Countess De Stel threw in his face when she gave him a resignation. He remembers how he ran along the marble corridors of the Academy without seeing anything in front of him, trying to overtake the girl's voice pounding in his temples, repeating sharp words over and over again.
And to those gods I will speak bluntly We've an accord If you ever touch or harm him Please rest assured That you might not fear a man But to a woman by the end you'll kneel and plea
Well, what are you, my friend?
A warm hand caresses the back of his head, digging into his thick mop of hair. “Leave me at least now, you see, I'm broken.”
He's down. He's dead. Now take a long look at what you've done to me?
I see. And I want to help you. I'm here, I'm with you, and you're strong enough to handle this.
“ No,” the guy sniffed and sat up on the bed, out of the corner of his eye watching the ribbons dance in the wind in her hair.
Yes, you can do it! Your heart is huge and alive, and you yourself are brave and kind. You will not let the poison of resentment corrupt your blood and soul.
“Give me two damn minutes and I'll be fine,” Julian wiped his face with his palms, straightened up, “You've been with me for so many years, who are you?”
Friend. Write, dear. Give it an outlet.
Soft red fur touched his cheek, the window shutter slammed. Julian hesitantly reached for the lute leaning against the desk. The instrument was covered with dust, because the guy completely abandoned music lessons when he plunged into a love whirlpool. Shaking fingers tentatively stroked the pegs and tugged the strings.
***
But your smile tells me I'm safe And that voice unspoken's heard
"Fuck you!” Fuck you! “Fuck (fuck) you,” they sang together, and he wrote it down on a torn piece of parchment.
He is already twenty-two and now he calls himself Jaskier.
"Don't you think it's not very polite to start a song with rudeness?” Poetry should catch and shock, dear heart. History is not written with respect.
Jaskier has been stuck in Posada for a week now, looking for inspiration, trying to squeeze something out of himself. Yes, his Muse (he decided to call her that) helps him, but the guy begins to think that a little more he will be covered with mold or moss from boredom and lack of impressions.
And the public in the local settlement is not that grateful.
The bard, as he now considered himself such, got up from the table, folded the parchment, putting it in his pocket, put on a smile on duty and picked up the lute. What was to be expected: after the very first song, a stream of abuse and scraps and pieces of bread flying into it. Well, at least there will be something to eat.
Look over there, honey.
Jaskier turned his head and saw a man with white hair and menacing armor sitting in the shadows.
"I don't think that's the best idea, dear," he thought. If you don't try, you'll never know. Jaskier's bursting laughter had a calming effect.
"You don't wanna keep a man with...bread in his pants waiting."
*** A storm raging on the horizon
“Pay the Witcher, give money to the White Wolf, damn it ...”
Jaskier nervously crosses out carefully drawn lines. He sits on the ground and in the light of the fire on his knee holds a piece of parchment. Geralt, with whom he is now traveling, sits nearby, silently sharpening his sword.
"Toss a coin to you Witcher", dear, it seems to me, it's more harmonious.
“Thank you, dear,” the bard, sticking out his tongue, writes down the prompted line.
“Who are you talking to again,” the Witcher looks unkindly at Jaskier.
“With the Muses, Geralt,” the bard shrugs.
“It always seemed to me that they should be talking to you,” croaks the one who is now, by the mercy of Jaskier, called the White Wolf.
"They do, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't be polite back," Jaskier smiles nervously.
“Hmm,” Geralt once again ran the whetstone over the blade,  “I resigned myself to the fact that an idiot followed me. But I was not prepared for the fact that this idiot is also insane.”
“Oh, don't escalate,”  the bard smiles uncertainly, “Better listen to what I wrote.”
You have to be careful, honey. “I know.”
Jaskier is already used to the fact that his Muse is always there. He considers it normal. He thinks that every poet, actor, and any creator has it.
But lately he's been told more and more that he's weird.
The young man sincerely does not understand why.
And only when he begins to travel with Geralt does he realize.
Other people don't talk to themselves.
They don’t see beautiful women out of the corner of their eye who are both here and not there, they don’t see fox tails hiding in the dark, they don’t feel warm touches when they are broken and feel bad, they don’t hear fervent laughter, they don’t hear music played on unknown the world of instruments, they do not hear songs sung as if by themselves, but not known to him, and they do not smell flowers and forests, even if they are in the center of a bustling city.
Once Jaskier even wants to talk about it with Geralt, because he sincerely considers him his friend. Yes, and the Muse suggests that the threads of the fate of the bard and the witcher are closely intertwined, but he does not dare. The Witcher is very closed. Very straightforward. Jaskier is afraid. Fear of misunderstanding and condemnation.
And then everything spins, life flies at a gallop: the genie, the wedding of Pavetta and Yozh, the Child destiny...
Jaskier has a lot of topics for new ballads, and a faithful girlfriend is always there: she will support when it’s bad, suggest a better rhyme, pat her on the head when it hurts. He feels her as his other half. Part of his soul. Sometimes, even with his alter ego.
And then there is the Dragon Hunt.
***
I promise you I'm not broken I promise you there's more More to come, more to reach for, more to hurl at the door
“It's not fair, Geralt. Rigt, I'll ask how it ended for others. See you aroud, Geralt.” Jaskier leaves. A broken heart beats painfully against the ribs and, it seems, scratches his soul with sharp edges.
Now take a good long look at what you've done to me
Pebbles scatter under boots not designed for long walking. Dandelion wanders around without seeing anything in front of him, tightly clutching the strap from the lute.
Darling.
“It's good that at least you're here.”
Yes, but I have to go too, dear heart.
“What?!” the bard freezes and shouts it aloud.
You were supposed to be my light And keep me safe against them all! How could you leave me here' you'll scream
“Don't leave me here alone! Don't leave me alone with this! Please,” Jaskier whispers, “Please!”
I know you're strong enough to do this on your own.
I know you're strong enough to do this on your own
“But why?”
Because I have to go. Now you should be on your own. You are old enough, strong enough, brave enough, and your heart is pure enough. But the world is big, honey. This universe is not alone. There are a thousand times and worlds! Know, just know that we will meet. We will definitely meet. At another time. In another place. But we will be there. And everything will be exactly the same: you will take care of them, and I will take care of you. “But that's not fair...”
If I don't make it back from where I've gone Just know I loved you all along
Oh, of course he can do it.
*** …I'v hear you're alive How disappointing…
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crimeronan · 10 months
Note
So I THINK I know already.. but which songs on the Princess Luz playlist are about Hunter?
i've got so many OC asks to answer but i am so slepby and i'm a sucker for music so i reply 2 this quastion instead. i don't think i actually even posted the playlist over here so here it is. that girl sure can sad. sorry for making your life suck so bad luz i swear i love you so much
anyway. u probably DO know, it's pretty obvious what songs are about hunter versus belos versus luz's self-hatred. but i will give u the names and most relevant bits of the lyrics because i FUCKIN LOVE ME A GOOD CODEPENDENCY TRAUMA SONG WITH POETIC NONSENSE LET'S GOOOO WOOOOOO
people who haven't read the main fic can glean at least some of the vibes from these snatches of lyrics probably. sorry for making everything edgy horror about sad people. i will do it again.
gun in my hand - dorothy
why did love put a knife in my heart in my bed, in my head, in my heart was it for redemption or was it for revenge? was it for the bottle? was it for the ledge? was it for the thrill of pushing my hope to the edge?
chasing twisters - delta rae
i lost hope when i was still so young had an angel on my shoulder but the devil always won (...) feel the lives that i have taken, what little soul that i have left and oh, my God, i'll take you to the grave the only love i've ever known, the only soul i ever saved
frozen - within temptation
i can feel your sorrow, i sacrifice you won't forgive me but i know it'll be all right it tears me apart that you will never know but i have to let go tell me i'm frozen but what can i do? can't tell the reasons i did it for you
politics of love - rise against
i hear your voice in the wind it follows me, it cuts right through the noise as we spin on dance floors made of ice so rest your hand in mine steady now, ignore the sound of breaking lines the cracks beneath our feet as time runs out
heavy in your arms - florence + the machine
are you strong enough to stand protecting both your heart and mine? who is the betrayer, who's the killer in the crowd the one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound my love has concrete feet, my love is an iron ball wrapped around your ankles over the waterfall
ship to wreck - florence + the machine
don't let the curtain catch you 'cause you've been here before the chair is an island, darling, you can't touch the floor and oh, my love, remind me, what was it that i said? i can't help but pull the earth around me to make my bed and oh, my love, remind me, what was it that i did? did i drink too much? am i losing touch? did i build this ship to wreck?
close to heaven - breaking benjamin
hate, lost inside, i dare to dream, faithless lies caught in the web, i will face the weak within so i'll stay unforgiven and i'll keep love together and i'll be yours forever, i'll sleep close to heaven i'm coming home, i'm coming home, i'm coming home
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tristayranambrosio · 4 months
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Expectation - Selfish (DWC Day 6)
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I feel the tension every day… Sing the songs… I smile until the pull on my face makes it strained and painful to hold the mask on. Inside I feel my still shattered heart writhe and squeeze with the effort it takes to keep me alive, to keep me going. I am screaming silently and it makes my voice wobble, but I sing anyway… until my lungs rebel and my throat is raw. No one hears me… Tears stream down my face but I smile… I act… I have their expectations… I am their darling happy bard. I could not possibly feel alone when so many want to warm my bed, there is nothing I could want for, it would be selfish of me to have asked for more than what I already have… I weep in between the bars I’ve built for myself on music staff, but nothing sounds right… its all wrong, all I play the strings, the keys, the notes they’re all a discourse and tuneless broken melody that rips my throat like razors on their way out… it hurts… I play until my fingers blister, split then blister again… I want to break down, I want to scream but I remain this prisoner in their Expectations. Selfish… To want the burden lighter, to feel the loss and grieve the death of a home… a world where I did not live alone with the weight of it all. I hold them… I live as their fantasy, their joyful beaming ray of sunshine that has never known the barbs of heartache because his heart is so large it can host each of their sorrows for them, I can carry more still. My body is an escape, I’ve built it that way, made it into a play thing that can operate without my input, and be a well to fill with their pain and their regrets… a means to forget. Its easy for me… moreover it is what they expect. But I’m Selfish. I am a temporary visit, never someone’s destination, when I grow tiresome… when I dare to ask… to beg for understanding, plea for someone to comfort me… I become useless, worthless, my value vanishes like they do given enough time. I let them… I do not fight to keep them… That would be selfish. I’m broken strings… of key scores and shattered symphonies… I am torn up staff and untuned instruments, and yet I try… for them… they need me… don’t they? I ask in vain for a moment which is better, if they knew the torment it was to play their favorite songs and hear only the tattered vestiges of my once talented echoes… or that my efforts remain the selfless ones of a man doomed to face this yawning ache alone. I live each day with broken glass in my throat and golden lute strings cutting dangled lines into my insides. Sing… they expect it. Play… they expect it. Smile… they expect it. Perform… they expect it… Lie. Otherwise… you’re being selfish for wanting to feel. I’ve never blamed them… to expect their kindness and open hands is a foolish selfish thing, I don’t deserve it… The best I can offer is to be their smiling dancing bard… a fantasy that doesn’t hurt that doesn’t stop thinking… that doesn’t feel anything but grateful for their coming to him to idle their sorrows and their burdens away… to assure them they are beautiful, to promise them they are loved. Because it was Selfish of me to hope someone could love the boy behind the bard… selfish of me to need more than the reminder of their need to unburden their hurts by using me. I shake… the smile hurts my jaw I hold it so tightly on my features… and I play a song that sounds like the sleepless nights I live perpetually… and for a moment my guard must have slipped… because I hear him say, ”I prefer the sad songs… you are more honest with them…Real” My mask cracked… but his voice was music… and it carried no expectation.
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(I'm not gonna lie. This one was the story I was dreading to write. I very rarely let him have a multifaceted existence, my Happy-go-lucky bard is made to make people feel good, to smile and to enjoy him, to feel BETTER for having interacted with the dope... but you don't come to yearn to bring that out in others without aching for it yourself. When ever he came close for years he was met with these feelings confronted with those who just made things hurt more and worse made him feel selfish for hoping there could be something more than shallow stolen moments for him. Luckily for me, there are those out there that taught him its not selfish to want someone to love him for who he is, at his lowest... and at his highest. After making mistakes... after saying something wrong and atoning or apologizing. Its. Not. Selfish. To want to be loved even when you aren't perfect.) @daily-writing-challenge
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tsckcyomi · 9 months
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thoughts on the ffxvi ending below + some general thoughts. nothing rly in-depth ig
i'm subscribing to the theory that clive lives while joshua is dead. although clive must have had god-like powers after absorbing ultima, when he tried healing joshua, he was already dead, and he says "ultima's power was too great for this vessel along". that, to me, very much sounds like clive tried using ultima's powers to bring back joshua but he simply couldn't wield these powers. as for the phoenix powers, the game stated clear limits. the phoenix can heal the body, physical wounds, but they can't bring anyone back from the dead nor can they help/heal the soul. also the tidbits scattered in the sidequest make it the more plausible ending what with jill saying something along the lines of clive being like the dawn that always comes back after the night, and dawn breaking during the ending. then we have the book after the credits that is written by "joshua rosfield" which would be clive's pen name. harpocrates gifted clive a quill and told him to write a book of his adventures, and clive said that he might just do that. also, clive is the narrator at the start and at the end of the game. and in general that's just what it built up to... joshua just wasn't going to survive this whole ordeal seeing how his powers affected him, and how he wanted to be the one to protect clive now.
SO YEAH i absolutely cried and then started sobbing when the main theme hit as the credits rolled, i was kinda embarrassed at myself lmao. so i loved it. i'm someone who very much enjoys bittersweet, heartache-y kind of endings and stories. the songs that played also hit that spot. the other scenes that made me tear up were byron reuniting with clive (it was both a very silly and a very cute scene...) and then later on with joshua. another one was the last sidequest with eloise and theodore. and, of course, when joshua died before the final fight.
but also i can ignore canon and give them all happy endings if i want :) or not. who knows, i enjoy it all.
my quick summary on some other thoughts would be: benedikta's arc is still a little disappointing imo but ok, WHATEVER. i'm over it. i was skeptical of jill at first but she absolutely grew on me, just like clive/jill did. i feel like they're definitely one of the better couples that they've had in recent games. i'm sad about what happened with dion and terence because neither of them would have survived - dion would die from the fall in origin and terence would have been in the crystalline dominion when ultima summoned his ship and destroyed the city in the process. i liked the sidequests even though they were basically always designed the same way, but they did a good job of expanding the universe and showing just how cruel the people are towards bearers, among other things, and i was in it for the lore. i liked all of the npcs (except of course the ones you're supposed to dislike dfgha). so, yea... that's it for now, i think. late night thoughts over.....
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nclgsticore · 1 year
Text
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞
𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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Credit to GIF owner. GIF is not mine &lt;3
𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
'𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝟖' 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Summary: Reader is in a relationship with Nine Ball (Leslie), but one night reader is acting a bit off with Nine Ball
Warning: Angst, Death (Reader) in the end, sad, overthinking!Nine ball, tell me if there is more-
Song OST of this chapter
Nine Ball's POV
Y/n's pretty drunk and tired tonight. I dragged my stupid girlfriend to my place tonight since she's been slurring like an ass and I loved this side of her. Not the clingy one. This is just pure performance for me, seeing y/n this drunk after our whole night out with Amita and Constance.
Once we reached my apartment, I unlocked my door, still holding y/n tightly before going in and closing the bloody door, I dragged her to the couch and laid her there.
"Girl, you're fucking drunk to hell! How much did you drink, man?"
"Ehehe- I- ahahahahahah!!" She laughs like a fucking joker, so I go to the toilet before turning the shower on. I lifted y/n before carrying her to the toilet and stripping her down. I am still stunned seeing her back tattoo from the mirror reflection because it looked hot on her...
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I slowly stroked her back, touching the tattooed skin, before planting kisses on her neck, making her squirm under my action.
"I-It tick-lessss Leslieeee..." She says before kissing my neck slowly like she always do when she's happy. She hugged me, resting her face at the crook of my neck which it feels like she's not even drunk right now.
"Leslieeeee...."
"Yes little dumbo?" I answered before she continues,
"I loveee youuuu!!"
"I know that dumbo. I love you too stupid."
"Heheheheheheeeeeee..." She giggles before she pulls back and cups my face using her cold hands. She leaned closer and rested our forehead together, brushing our noses together, making me smile from her silly attitude.
"What is it you dumbo?" She just stares in my eyes and slowly trails to my lips. She looked scared to kiss me because I'm the one who always kiss her first according to my mood.
"N-nothing Leslieee..." She stopped cupping my face and looked away. I'm a bit confused right now. Why she's acting like this? Is it because she's drunk or she's already a bit sober already.
I pulled her face to look at me and I see tears in her eyes. S-She never cries....
"W-what's wrong little one? Tell me what's going on in your pretty head darling..." I changed my tone so she felt calmer because it works sometimes. She just looked away even though her face's facing me.
I pulled her legs wrapping my waist before turning the shower off and carried her to my bed, laying her on the side but she didn't move. I'm a bit worried now. Is she mad?
I crawled next to her, hoping she'll turn to me, snuggle into me, asking for hugs and kisses like she always do even though it annoys me all the time, but now I felt sad because she's like avoiding to give me any physical contact like she loves to do.
"Y/n darling... what's wrong? Come here, give me a hug boo? You love cuddles right?" She seems off. Something's wrong somewhere.
"You don't like hugs." Hugs? She always call it cuddles. I'm the one who call it hugs. What's going on actually right now?
"Just come here and give me your cuddles darling... you loved it right? Give me one baby..." Now I can feel my heart breaking seeing her like this. Did I change her? Tears starts dwelling in my eyes which I never cried before but this broke me. She just looked the other way, avoiding me.
I slowly slide behind her, hugging her from the back and her body tensed up suddenly. But I ignored it and I just hugged her tightly. Now I know how she felt when I don't give any affection to her. Now I totally understand the pain being ignored when you needed the person the most.
Her body slowly relaxes and she just sobbed softly, covering her mouth to muffle the sounds because she remembered I said to her I don't like a cry baby, I don't like cuddles or kisses unless I'm the one asked for it and now she's acting like it. A totally different person.
She doesn't even attempted to turn to me, asking me to cool her down or wipe her tears. I turned her body facing me before pulling her face into my chest and hugged her tightly while apologizing to her...
"I'm sorry baby, just please talk to me darling, I'm so sorry, please ask for cuddles from me baby... Don't ignore me please.. I'll give you as many kisses, cuddles and you can cling on me all day or just cry if you want to. But please. Don't push me out. I need you to talk to me baby..." I persuaded, begged, pleaded for her forgiveness because I felt like I'm losing her.
I don't want to lose her. Yes I call her stupid, dumbo and idiot. But she's my idiot, my little dumbo. Mine. I need her in my life.
I felt her arms slowly, but still shaking to hug me. I pull her arms, wrapping it myself before hugging her tighter and I felt her sobbing harder.
"It's okay boo, just cry. Go ahead. I'm not gonna get mad anymore. Please, just do anything you want to me. I'm letting you..." I reassured her before she looks up, with her eyes still pooling with tears. I wiped her tears and kissed her forehead softly, not wanting to let her go anymore.
"Y-you don't like kisses-"
"No darling, do whatever you want. I won't stop you anymore. It hurts without you asking for hugs and kisses for a moment. Go on baby..." She just looked at me, still unsure and I leaned my face closer before connecting our lips.
The kiss was slow, soft but full with love which y/n love it soft. She just sobbed before pulling back, leaving me a bit shocked.
"What's wrong y/n baby?"
"N-nothing... Y-you m-must b-be t-tired f-from t-treating m-my s-stupid a-ass... I-I'm s-sorryyy..." She said between sobs before turning away. What the fuck did I do to her? Why is she like this???
"Noo noo nooo baby, I'm not tired from dealing your attitude boo... I'm fine... Look! I want you to cuddle with me, come on darling..."
She turned to me before hugging me again. I want this to be forever. I love her so much which it hurts seeing her hurt.
"I'm s-sorry L-Leslie..."
"No darling... I'm sorry okay?"
"Leslie..."
"Yes baby?"
"Promise me something..."
"Anything for you boo..."
"Stay with me.. until the end of our life?"
"Stay, together until the end of our life baby. I promise..."
We linked our pinkies together before kissing our thumb as a promise...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
I remembered what happened a year ago while struggling to tidy up y/n's stuffs, putting it in a box to hand it back to Lou, her sister.
"Y/n... why did you leave me baby? I need you.. You promised to stay with me right? Why did you broke our promise? Why did you go first without me y/n?"
I looked at the picture that I took with y/n a few days before the day she died. We were so happy. Both of us were having so much fun at the funfair. She was smiling to ear to ear while holding the alpaca plushie that she got from one of the games she won. But now, I'm holding it in my arms, wanting to feel her again in my arms, hugging me tight like she used to.
But a few days after that, she got into an accident while coming back from work, back to me. She was hit by a truck and she... died..
The radio was playing our favourite song, but it don't sound the same. Our bed felt a little big bigger now compared to before anything of this happened..
I slowly sang along with the song I'm listening to while lying down on the floor, hugging y/n's plushie and hoodie..
In another life...
I would be your girl...
We'd kept all our promises be us against the world...
In another life...
I would make you stay...
So I don't have to say you were...
The one that got away...
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bo0zey · 1 year
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I hope you're doing ok, I only read about what happened at riot fest through someone who saw some of the people who fainted and had to be taken out, but to be in the situation that you were is so terrifying. I really wish I could whisk you to another concert of theirs, it breaks my heart that arseholes who have no regard to others' wellbeing ruined your experience. (And reading your post about how gerard was trying to control the crowd, I couldn't stop thinking about how disturbing it must have been to watch people fainting left and right and having to be surfed out of the crowd, and people still continuing to push.)
i'm okay!<3 i went home and hit the Hay afterwards lol. my abdominal cavity was still rlly sore tho lol like i couldn't eat my burrito once i got home :( which i shouldve expected cuz i couldnt even drink water without sharp stabbing pangs from my diaphragm n intestines still on bad terms with each other skjskjng . but i was better the next day :) . and i was so sad for the band you're 100% correct i can't imagine what they must've been thinking up there having to perform while so many people were getting hurt :/ . like gerard handled everything so well, better than the event organizers ffs, and i was so mad because then the tabloids were released ranking the 13 most "dangerous bands/crowds" at riot fest & MCR was right up there and it's like!!!!!! the band was doing everything they could to keep the crowd safe, pausing between every damn song, literally ZERO bantering from gee in between because he was too busy counting the steps he wanted the crowd to take back.
that's why i'm still kinda annoyed abt me almost fainting bc i know it's not my fault but i still feel so stupid n weak bc i feel like everyone thinks it's my fault too and i 'couldn't hang' but i was literally being crushed from all four sides of my body and my nose was in this stinky bitch's armpit like:((( it's not fair. and like i tried not to let the fact that i was almost barrier, ~1hr away from seeing the band whose music was literally the only thing i listened to from 12-16yrs old when my mom was sick and dying and i deadass had nothing left that resonated with me aside from mcr & the boys' side projects for 4 years straight. it sounds corny as fuck but it honestly felt like a dream come true to be able to see them live and so up close like??
but i'm not gonna lie i couldn't stay positive lol. i was in a fog and dissociated for their entire set. n like the fact that i was 1000000s of feet away from my original spot so i couldn't even see them on stage, just the big screen, it just made the dissociation worse because everything had already looked and felt unreal and now mcr felt unreal too but like in the worst way possible, like they actually WERE NOT real and i was watching a youtube video at home lol. and i've literally never tried so hard in my LIFE to re-ground myself because i wanted to be at least somewhat present for this once in a lifetime chance u know?? so i tried singing along but i couldn't because it made the shooting pains so much worse. then i tried just mouthing the words but the pain kept getting worse and i literally had to leave during the middle of TKFY because i was getting nauseous and lightheaded again. aside from the pain i truly couldn't feel anything while watching them perform i was just so numb from everything and i couldn't stop crying because i deadass felt zero happiness, and that realization made me cry more because they weren't even happy tears, they weren't the ones i'd expected to cry. it was honestly one of the worst feelings i've ever experienced, feeling nothing, just numb as fuck inside despite being live and present at the concert of the band that had at one point made me feel everything, every emotion, tenfold all at once. and there i was 10 years later, feeling nothing. tis a veerrrryyyyyy hard pill for me to swallow lol n im still tryna choke it down. i haven't been able to listen to any mcr songs since bc i'm afraid i'm going to experience the same empty feelings again orrrrr worse break down and cry like a little bitch n feel sorry for myself bc i was so.close. to having this 1 thing i always wanted but never thought i'd be able to have and then *poof* IT'S GONE. like i can't have shit in this world lol i jsut wanted to give my inner child some peace and remember happier days before mom was gone and what happpens instead??? god yanks mcr away from her too lmaoooo. it's like funny and ironic tbh idk. and then ofc for their last song gerard played cancer and i was 10000000000000 of feet away in pain while my stepmom tried 2 find me water n im just sobbing next to some trashcans bc suddenly im 12 years old realizing i just lost the last piece of my childhood n mcr can't soothe me anymore and mom isn't there either and now i truly have nothing left inside or outside myself that makes me happy:-). like i don't think i've EVER even cried to cancer bc i didnt think it was /that/ sad and my mom literally died of cancer and i still never cried??? But idk that was another weird sad thing that jabbed the knife in deeper lol.
but also ik why gee played it, they were supposed to close with TKFY but played cancer bc it's their slowest 'saddest' song which would hopefully make everyone chill the fuck out & leave without trampling each other. which, AGAIN, gerard is literally an amazing fucking frontman for once AGAIN going out of his way to try and mellow ppl out n keep everyone safe aND FOR TABLOIDS TO ATTACK THEM calling them the most dangerous band like!!!!!!!! it literally wasn't their fault ppl are just fucking idiots and don't understand BASIC PHYSICS/HUMAN ANTOMY DKDFNSKD. ngl the only reason i'm not wrathful abt the article is bc it's validating 2 me n my experience that Yes that crowd was actualyl fucking awful and what happened to me was OUT of my control n therefore it wasnt>:(my>:(fault>:(((
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fenris-ranger · 1 year
Text
POWER OF THE DOCTOR SPOILERS/livethoughts
scheduling this to post after it airs in the USA
"they're regenerating" now how did some random train marshal know what regeneration energy looks like?
"I've got you" i'm already in tears stop
I know the train sequence is very CGI-intensive, and maybe it's just bc I'm streaming it off iPlayer, but the graphics aren't impressing me :/
The train people know what Cybermen are, too? Idk how well known they are throughout the galaxy, but they and the Daleks always have seemed to me like since they don't leave anybody alive, they're more legends to normal people.
"Don't lose my sonic" feels like forwarding
Professional medic Yaz!!!
"This is your Space Train Driver, Dan" i love him
oh fuck oh shit it's baby her isn't it? at the very least an obvious analogue.
NO OH MY GOD I'M BUFFERING HELP
I thought they said this was the longest intro before the title sequence ever? didn't feel notably long.
I really wish I'd had time to go back and watch Ace and Teagan's episodes first -- maybe somebody will make a good list of "things you need to watch to understand the Classic Who easter eggs" after.
"Back in time for your date!" and then immediately planning things with Yaz, parallels!
"You don't have to come back for me" oh no are we losing him this early?????? Is he never going to know what happens to his Space Lesbians just like I feared????
"See ya again, Doctor" I'M WEEPING, JODIE YOUR FACE
I'm so sad for Yaz to lose "her companion" so early :(
Parlay with the Daleks? sus but also exactly the trap that the Doctor will fall into
I didn't remember the Kaleds -- tardiswiki link
aaaagh i read the extra planet/mirror earth theory shit, they were right??
ra ra rasputin lover of the russian queen -- wait oh fuck
dhawan is reasonably attractive but not as rasputin and not in the cleanshaven promo pics either imo
"stay here" as if -- haha, immediately "nope!"
yaz can read the tardis screens so well, ilu </3
ah, not Tim Shaw then (don't see anything about the Qurunx in the wiki, so I assume he made it up for this episode?)
"bit busy, Kate, can it wait?"
"have you any idea what's going on in outer space in 1916 right now?" "strangely enough, no"
no yazzy don't have to face what it's like to lose the doctor for 38 years omg mandip still rocking the microexpressions
"defaced" ew that's hideous
competent Yaz is so brilliant to see
the seismologist!master holding TCE-Yaz has to be coming up and i'm terrifed
the master talking to yaz but yaz refusing to look anywhere but at the doctor omg
GIVE HER A GUN WHAT "she must be worried" no shit
just shoot him yaz please
i knew the battle AI aspect of the cyberium had to come back
"I said i'm in your head, dear" I don't ship thoschei in this incarnation because thasmin, but i'm picking up what you're putting down
I don't really understand why they brought Vinder back -- he wasn't really compelling or super important in Flux?
"oh, and i have a ship problem, in that . . . it's broken"
"your dad was an idiot" ugh i LOVE him recognizing all the companions and the references to classic who
"she really doesn't want us back in there!" aww, sad
"I'm supposed to be the one saying that to you" yesss give me continued Yaz-becoming-the-Doctor parallels
are they really just strolling alongside magma without breaking a sweat?
i'm still so struck by how dhawan really emulates the energy and batshit insanity of Simm!Master
YAZ IS GOING TO PILOT IT BY HERSELF MY SWEET BRILLIANT CHILD
HER STICKY NOTES
THE CLOISTER BELL
I'M DECEASED
has dhawan always had that subconjunctival hemorrhage or whatever patch in his right eye or is that a character thing?
"forced regeneration" just sounds like death, why does it need technology? just shoot her or something
holy shit I can't believe they used "ra ra rasputin" -- the Master dancing around to a modern song is straight out of the Simm!Master playbook
*the owl house voice* BODY SWAP!
THE EARRING AND EVERYTHING
aw, not a body swap :( I would have fucking gagged if we finally got Whittaker!Master
Aw we knew the jacket was coming back but it's still brilliant to see Ace in it!
SCARF SWEATER CELERY SCARF SWEATER CELERY
fuck yeah, yaz! i'm so glad she gets to be hypercompetent
NO NOT ANOTHER HOLOGRAM NOT LIKE THIS okay who's signing up to write the Yaz trauma flashbacks
kate stewart is a babe
YAZ YAZ YAZ YAZ stop being so amazing
if he makes a pass at Yaz because he knows, i will kill him myself, fictional or not
graham!!!! "arnold palmer-son" lmao his psychic paper. but why did he try to explain daleks to her when she wasn't at all phased by reading off info about the doctor/daleks?
KATE NO i saw the sacrifice coming but if it goes through i'll be devastated (especially because she knows better than most exactly what is going to happen, being the chief science officer forever)
JO JO JO JO -- are we up to 9 doctors now in this episode? Fugitive, One, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Dhawan!Doctor, Thirteen, presumably Ten-variant?
Very Kirk/Spock "i am and always will be your friend" vibes through the glass
"I'd only just signed the lease." YES KATE GETS TO GO IN TOO
I love her in the welding goggles
Type 75!!!
what was the point of Yaz saying "go go go!" that was just awkward
"what a universe" her fucking wonder is the most beautiful thing, that really encapsulates Thirteen for me -- she went much more childlike than previous incarnations but that just let her be constantly in awe and it's borderline holy
no no no no no no no
YAZ SO STRONG SO BUFF THE DOCTOR'S BUTCH WIFE WE LOVE TO SEE IT
fuck you can tell this is at least 50% just Jodie crying I'm losing it
NO WHAT
NO
YOU CANNOT REGENERATE ALONE WHAT THE FUCK CHIBNALL
at least Dan knows :( :( :(
i mean i get that she didn't want to face being rejected by a companion once she switched faces again, but whyyyy
HOW DARE YOU DEPRIVE ME OF TENNANT IN THIRTEEN'S OUTFIT????????? (also lmao at how we ALL called the "wot? wot?!")
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hotch-stufff · 3 years
Text
Kiss The Girl
Tumblr media
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Warnings!: angst, pining(lots of it), crying, arguing, but a fluffy ending, like super fluffy ending :)
Word Count: 3.7k words
Description: Hotch tries to deny it, but he's madly in love with you. He keeps getting this urge to just kiss you. Could it really be that easy?
A/N: not really sure what this is, but I was listening to that new cover of kiss the girl by Brent Morgan and I really wanted wrote this. It definitely took a turn i was not expecting, but I hope you guys love it as much as I do. :)
*Based off the song "Kiss the Girl"*
--------------
He loved you. It was no secret.
Everyone knew, everyone except maybe him.
Or maybe he did know, but he refused to accept it. He couldn't love you. It was wrong. But if it was wrong, why on earth did it feel so good?
There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way
She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her
He wasn't the best at sharing his feelings. He was good at locking them away, and throwing away the key. But you, you made that hard.
There was just something about you. It drew him in, and he was hooked.
Maybe it was the way you giggled when you were nervous. Or maybe it was the blush that tinted your cheeks when someone gave you a compliment. Maybe it was the way you showed Hotch the happiness he needed in his darkest times.
He wasn't sure, but he knew you were special. He was sure he knew exactly when these feelings had started. It was the night of Rossi's Christmas party.
You sat on Rossi's couch, laughing along with Morgan and Prentiss. They had made some very very inappropriate joke, that you just thought was hilarious. 
"Okay, h-hang on. I need a refill." You gasped out between laughs. You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the wine before pouring yourself a glass.
"Hey." You nearly squealed as Hotch came in the room behind you.
"Jesus Hotch, could have given me a heart attack." He simply chuckled. "Yeah, laugh it up." You playfully rolled your eyes.
"I'm sorry." He tried to hide his smile.
"Yeah, you sound it." You walked towards him, giving him a soft smile as the teasing atmosphere faded. The room was empty, and you wouldn't be able to ever work up the courage again.
"Merry Christmas Hotch." You whispered as you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You pulled back, gave him a small smile, and walked back to the living room.
Aaron stood there, shocked. 
Why had you don't that? Why had he liked it? Would you do it again?
The questions repeated in his head, over and over. And he realised that a peck on the cheek wouldn't be enough. 
He needed a kiss, a real kiss. Even just one from you and he would be satisfied for life. But that, was an impossible dream. Or, so he thought.
And you don't know why, but you're dyin' to try
You wanna kiss the girl
Months had passed since then and he still hadn't gotten another kiss from you. 
You two had grown increasingly close however. You were practically inseparable. Always at one of your houses, talking, watching movies, eating. You name it.
Although watching movies was usually with Jack, and currently he was stuck on repeating the Little Mermaid.
"Miss Y/n?" He asked one night.
"Yes Jackers?" You asked, looking down at the small boy.
"Can we please, watch the little mermaid with daddy?" He begged. He used those puppy dog eyes and you were sold.
"Of course we can." You heard a chuckle come from behind you and you whipped around.
"Didn take you long to give in, huh?" Hotch questioned, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Oh shut it Hotchner. Go get the popcorn." He laughed and shook his head before walking to the kitchen.
Soon you found yourself wrapped up with the Hotcner boys. Jack was curled up on your lap, his face buried in your neck as he fell asleep.
As you and Hotch watched the movie, he snuck glances every couple of minutes. He couldn't get over how beautiful you looked. 
And you were holding his son, loving him like he could be your own. It filled Hotch's heart with love and affection.
And then that song began playing softly in the background
Yes, you want her
Look at her, you know you do
The lyrics spoke a truth that Hotch was desperately trying to avoid. 
But he didn't know how much longer he could go without telling you. In the moment he couldn't remember why he hadn't told you already.
Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her
It don't take a word, not a single word
Go on and kiss the girl
All he wanted to do was reach over and bring you into a kiss. Just a simple kiss. 
Just to feel your lips move together. Just for a second. He almost did. You had turned to look at him, and he leaned in slightly. His hand raising. 
But the shrill sound of his phone broke the trance. His hand receded before you could grab it. And he didn't kiss you.
You were filled with a disappointment that you couldn't explain. 
Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my, oh, my, look like the boy too shy, He ain't gonna kiss the girl
Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain't that sad? Ain't it a shame? Too bad, He gonna miss the girl
The music of the movie faded as a grim look replaced the carefree one on Hotch's face. 
"We'll be right in." He muttered out the words with disdain, sending you an apologetic look.
But you barely noticed, you were still trying to calm down the beating of your heart.
He was going to kiss you.
Did he feel the same way that you did?
All thoughts left your mind though as you felt Jack wake in your arms.
"Hey buddy." He looked up at you with the eyes he shared with his father.
"Do you have to leave?" Your heart broke a little bit at his questions.
"Yeah, bud. I'm sorry." He just smiled at you and burrows further into your chest.
"Its 'kay." He mumbled sleepily. "But we have to wait till Aunt Jess gets here so we can keep cuddling." Your heart swelled and your face lit up. Hotch was staring at the two of you, in awe. His son loved you so much. 
You looked over at him, a tear in your eye. He swallowed as he pushed his feelings aside, giving you a soft smile before getting up to get dressed.
He was screwed.
A couple cases later, and you were holed up in a precinct, everyone nearly falling asleep.
It was a bad case, a really bad case. And you were running out of time. The unsubs' latest victim only had about a day left.
But nobody could work if they were falling asleep. Eventually Hotch sighed and told everyone it was time to head to the hotel.
But of course, once there, there were only 4 rooms.
"I'm taking my own room. I'm old." Rossi said and grabbed the key before anyone could argue.
"C'mon pretty boy." Morgan grabbed another key, and walked off with spence.
"I'll go with Jj. Y/l/n, you good with Hotch?" Your face went bright red at Prentiss's words. But you nodded, looking anywhere but at Hotch. You couldn't say no, it would be too obvious.
"Y-yeah, that's fine." You all trudged to the elevator, Emily and Jj said goodnight and walked off once you reached your floor. You and Hotch walked in silence down the hall to the very last room.
He swung the door open, and you had to stop yourself from gasping. There was only one bed.
"I'll uh, I'll take the floor." You scrunched your nose at Hotch's offer and he couldn't deny how adorable you looked.
"Hotch, no. That will kill your back." You shook your head. "We can share. We're both adults, it's fine." You're not sure if you're convincing yourself or him. He just nods and gives a soft okay.
"Do you want the first shower?" He asked. 
"Um, no. I shower in the mornings." He nodded before walking into the bathroom.
Why was this so awkward? You guys were such good friends, this shouldn't be so weird. 
You pushed the thought aside before crawling into the bed and curling up.
Hotch walked out of the bathroom 10 minutes later in nothing but a towel.
Your eyes grew and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. He cleared his throat, and you looked up at his eyes.
"Uh sorry, forgot my bag." You nodded, looking away quickly. Too scared to speak. He quickly went back into the bathroom.
"Get a hold of yourself." You whispered to yourself. You weren't going to survive this case if he did that again. He joined you in bed soon after getting dressed.
Neither of you spoke, neither of you moved, neither of you breathed. It was completely silent.
After about 20 minutes of silence and trying desperately to fall asleep you spoke up.
"Hotch?" 
"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse.
"Um, I can't sleep." You turned towards him and he did the same.
"Neither can I." You sighed.
"How's Jack?" You asked, trying to bring up the mood, or to at least get rid of the awkwardness. It seemed to work because his face lit up at the mention of his son.
"He's good. He actually just asked if you could come over soon. He got an A plus on his spelling test that you helped him study for and he really wants to show you." You smiled as you listened.
"That's great! He was so nervous for that test." 
"Yeah, thank you Y/n for helping him." You grabbed his hand, squeezing gently.
"Of course Hotch. I love Jack." You muttered, and you fell into silence again.
But it was more content, more peaceful. Your hands stayed laced together, and Hotch's mind went blank as you started leaning closer.
Now's your moment
Floating in a blue lagoon
Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better
He started leaning in, his hand moved from your own to cup your face. But something switched in his mind. What was he doing? This was wrong. He couldn't let this happen. 
Your faces were inches apart when he pulled his hand away and scooted backwards slightly.
Look like the boy too shy
He ain't gonna kiss the girl
Your face fell, and his heart squeezed painfully.
"Um, we should go to bed." You were so confused. You thought that was it. It was perfect. He, he pulled away though. Why had he pulled away?
You could almost physically see his walls being built up.
Walls you had spent so much time breaking down.
"Oh, um. O-okay." You stuttered out, pulling back  quickly.
"Goodnight Y/n." He said softly, but you didn't respond. You were too scared you would cry if you did. 
You fell asleep faster than you anticipated, but maybe you were just that tired. 
He was gone when you woke up.
You thought everything might just go back to the way it was after that night.
But boy were you wrong. Hotch had completely pulled away from you.
No longer did he invite you over, or invite you to do paperwork in his office with him
You didn't watch movies, or go out to eat, or even talk about anything other than work. It was hell.
You tried, you really tried to get him to open up again, but it just didn't work. Nothing did.
It was to the point where he would be almost rude to you. 
The team was beginning to notice. And you couldn't hold back any longer. It was killing you.
You needed to talk to him, past this wall he had put up. You needed to know why he was pushing you away. You walked up to his door, knocking on the door.
"Come in." He said softly. You walked in, and his eyes stayed trained on the paperwork in front of him.
"Hotch?" He still didn't look up.
"How can I help you Agent Y/l/n?" He asked, his voice not wavering from professionalism. You shut the door behind you and walked forward, sitting in one of the chairs.
"We need to talk." He was taken aback slightly by the determination in your voice, but he sighed before setting down his pen.
"What is it?" He sounded almost annoyed, which just made you angrier.
"What the hell is going on?" You didn't mean to be so rude about it, but you needed to know.
"Excuse me?" 
"Seriously Hotch, we went from talking almost every day, to not speaking unless it has something to do with work."
"Y/l/n…" he went to stop you.
"No. Hotch please. I don't know what I did." You begged. "I mean you can't even use my name anymore." You whispered.
"This is very unprofessional." he wasn't breaking.
"Please Aaron. Don't lie to me." You tried his first name, and he had never loved his name being spoken more than when you said it. But he had to stop this.
"Agent Y/l/n. I'm sorry if our friendship was confus-" but you cut him off.
"We weren't just friends. You know that and I know that." He had the audacity to look confused. But he knew exactly what you were talking about.
Don't try to hide it how, You wanna kiss the girl
"Please Aaron, don't pretend, not with me."
"Agent Y/l/n! That's enough!" His voice was rising. 
He didn't understand why you couldn't just let it go.
"No it's not. I love you Aaron, I'm sorry. But I do. And it hurts so much that you are pushing me away!" Your eyes filled with tears and Hotch stood there, awed that you felt this way. But he couldn't let you in. So he took that final heartbreaking step.
"I don't love you." He whispered out. You had been standing and you took a staggering step backwards. 
"What?" Your voice was small.
"I don't love you Y/n." The lie was tearing him apart. Why was he doing this again?
Tears began falling down your face. You were upset and mad and heartbroken. And you were embarrassed that this man had this much of a hold on you.
"Fine." You sniffed. "If that's how you feel Agent Hotchner." He missed the way you said Aaron and flinched at the formal title. But this was what he wanted. "I apologize for the unprofessionalism." You turned to leave, but stopped when he spoke.
"Y/n…" His voice was small, strained. You wiped away your tears. When you looked back, his eyes were glossy.
But he didn't say anything else and you kept walking, slamming the door behind you. The bullpen silenced and everyone stared at you.
It was humiliating, but you walked to Rossi's office, your head held high.
"Rossi?" 
"Y/l/n, what's wrong?" He asked, like he hadn't heard the conversation through his shared wall with Hotch. 
"Can you please tell Hotch that I'm sick and I won't be in for a while?" Your voice wavered slightly, but you ignored it.
"Y/n-" he started, but you didn't feel like talking.
"Please Rossi?" You begged, praying he would just say yes so you could leave.
"Yes, of course." You nodded and thanked him before leaving. You slipped down to your desk and grabbed your bag. 
You didn't see Hotch standing in the doorway of his office, watching you as you left, tears silently slipping down your face.
Your teammates asked what was happening, but you just waved them off and left.
They all turned to Hotch, but he was already back in his office, his door slamming for the second time that day.
You wanna kiss the girl
A week passed, and you hadn't come back to work yet. Hotch wasn't sure what to do with himself. He hated what he did.
The team was confused, Rossi kept sending him angry glances, and your empty desk was haunting him.
And then, Jack asked that question. The question that broke him just a little more.
"Why doesn't Miss Y/n come over anymore daddy?" He had asked one night at dinner.
He didn't know how to answer. "Does she not love us anymore?" His eyes were big and glossy like he was going to cry. He decided not to lie to his son.
"Daddy made a mistake and Miss Y/n is just a little sad right now." Jack didn't understand what was happening, but he wanted to help fix it. His dad had been so sad these past couple of weeks and it made him sad. 
"Daddy, you have to say sorry! And you have to do what the song says!" Hotch looked at his son confused. What song?
"What song buddy?" He asked, pulling his son into his lap.
"You know, you have to kiss the girl!" He giggled like it was the most obvious answer in the world.
"The little mermaid song?" He asked, smiling at his son's innocence. 
"Yes, remember, you and Y/n were sitting on the couch before you left for work, and you were going to kiss her!" Hotch looks shocked, Jack was awake for that?
"Um, buddy. Me and Y/n aren't together." He sighed as his son deflated.
"But why? You love her. And she loves you." He spoke, confused as to what was happening.
"Um.." Hotch drew a blank. He couldn't give this little boy an answer. Not when it was his fault. Not when he was the one that had said no. 
It was a mistake, a huge mistake. He should have just told you.  Why hadn't he?
He should have kissed you.
The first time, or the second time. He should have told you that he loved you too. Was it too late? 
"Um, buddy, you know what? It's time for bed." Hotch put his son to sleep and called Rossi, asking him to come over.
He prayed he wasn't too late. Rossi showed up at his door 20 minutes later.
"Hotch-" but he knew.
"I know, I'm an idiot. But I have to go tell her I love her too." He was rushing, grabbing his keys.
"Atta boy Aaron." Was all Rossi said as Hotch ran out the door, jumping in his car.
He was sure he was going faster than the speed limit, but he couldn't care less. He needed to see you, and to be with you. To tell you that he loved you.
His car was barely parked when he jumped out and ran up to your door, banging on it.
You heard the noise wondering who would come over so late. You were shocked to find Hotch there as you opened the door.
There, you see her, Sitting there, across the way
She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her
"Y/n." Was all he said. You slammed the door in his face.  He began banging his fist in the door and you threw it open, again.
"Leave Hotch." 
"Please, Y/n, just hear me out." He begged. You hesitated, but moved to the side letting him in. You shut the door softly.
Yes, you want her, Look at her, you know you do
Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her
"What do you want, Hotch? What more could you possibly want?" He shook his head, holding his tears at bay.
"Aaron." He spoke quietly.
"What?" 
"Please, it's Aaron." 
"Agent Hotchner. You need to leave." But he didn't leave. He stood there and stared at you. 
"I'm so sorry Y/n." 
"Hotch, seriously, I can't do this. I can't." You tried to keep those tears in, you were tired of crying over him, but there was no point. You felt then slip down your face.
Words weren't working, he had already said enough. But he remembered Jacks words. 
The song.
Now's your moment, Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better
She don't say a word and she won't say a word, Until you kiss the girl
He stepped forward and brought his hand up to your face. He leaned in slowly, and brought your lips to his. 
Your heart stopped, and you kissed him back desperately. You had wanted this for so long. You had waited for so. Damn. Long.
"Your so stupid." You murmured against his lips. He pulled away gasping for air.
"I know" his voice was beautiful.
You've gotta kiss the girl, Go on and kiss the girl
He leaned in again, kissing you like his life depended on it. He gently ran his thumb across your cheek as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you forward. He broke away a moment later.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was an idiot. I love you." A tear escaped his eye, and you brushed it away. "I dont expect you to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me if I was you. I was awful, and I never should have lied and said I didn't love you too. I shouldn't have pushed you away."
"Why did you?" He hesitated, he wasn't sure you would understand.
"The last time I let someone in my heart, she left. And then she got hurt because of me. I couldn't risk that happening to you." He shook his head.
"Oh Aaron. I'm not leaving. I don't ever want to leave you. I love you too much to leave." You paused. "And you can't hide and be scared to open your heart. Its okay to let people in." You added softly and he gave you a smile.
You both stood there in blissful peace, your foreheads touching. He chuckled and you looked at him confused.
"What?"
"I kissed the girl." You just grew more confused.
"What are you talking about?" You asked humor in your voice.
"The song. Jack said I had to do what the little mermaid song said." You understood then and began giggling. 
"Maybe, maybe you should do it again." You suggested, a smile on your face.
"Hmm, maybe I should." And he leaned in again for another breathtaking kiss.
.....................
"And that is how me and your dad got together." Your three kids sat in front of you listening in awe. 
"Wow, so Jack is why he finally told you he loved you?" Your middle child, Tommy asked. Jack laughed as he stood up, tapping your shoulder as he towered over you. 
"You could say that." Aaron said from the doorway, you turned, smiling at your husband. 
"Yeah, sure." You giggled and ruffled Jack's hair as you picked up your nine year old daughter, Jenna. Who, in all honesty, was almost too big to be picked up.
"Mommy, can you tell us that story every night?" She asked, and you smiled. 
"Of course I can sweat pea. But now, its bed time." You tucked in your kids, giving them each a kiss on the forehead before joining your husband in your room.
You plopped on the bed and curled up into his side.
"Hi sweetheart." He greeted you with a kiss, and he pulled you into his side. "You know, you didn't need to make me sound so…" he couldn't quite find the word.
"Stupid? Clueless? Dumb?" You asked, giggling as he began digging his fingers into your side, tickling you. 
"St-stop. Aaron!" You shrieked and he let up, but not before plopping on top of you. He began peppering kisses all over your face.
"I'm glad you finally told that story. Jenna has been begging for weeks" Your youngest had watched the little mermaid a couple of weeks ago and Jack had made a comment about one of the songs. Jenna had heard one word and was begging for us to tell her our "falling in love story", as she put it. 
You had finally given in and told them, and they had loved every moment of it. Jack of course had already known, having witnessed it. 
But Jenna and Tommy had loved hearing how their parents had fallen in love. 
And a week later when you walked in the living room you were filled with a sense of nostalgia as you saw Jack with Jenna in his lap, as Tommy and Aaron sat on the couch next to them. Watching, of course, the little mermaid. You plopped next to Aaron, smiling. 
As Kiss The Girl started playing.
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Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.
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