Messages Work But DMs Dont?? I Messaged Tumblr About It So Ill Keep You Updated But Just Letting You

messages work but DMs don’t?? i messaged tumblr about it so i’ll keep you updated but just letting you know for requests/reaching me, I’m working on requests but im hesitant to post until my DMs are working so ik who to tag so if you want to send something to my inbox about a request you made that’d make it a little faster i think??

hi!! if you’ve been DMing me i haven’t been able to see it bc my DMs have not been working :( it’s really weird and i’m trying to fix it but in more positive news...

I GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL

AHHHH

a bunch of new fics coming bc it’s finally summer :))) !!

MY DMS ARE WORKING AGAIN!!! WE‘RE BACK IN BUSINESS YALL

DM/backup/new acc - yesimstillwriting

Hi!! This is @yesimwriting but from a different account bc of DM and technical glitches,, tumblr has blocked me from my messages making it impossible to see who requested what, i messaged Tumblr help and if they don’t fix the problem this will become my main account I will be posting a new fic on here today and if this account becomes more permanent i will repost my work on here :)

i made herrr :)) ‘The Needs of Pain’ (part one of two maybe??) is out now :)) hehe I FEEL LIKE AN INFLUENCER LMAO AND I ACCIDENTALLY OPENED THE GROUNDS FOR SOME REALLY EXTRA STUFF IN THE POTENTIAL PART TWO LIKE IM SCARED TO BE THAT HONEST ON HERE--

YALL THIS CONCEPT WONT LEAVE MY MIND–

you know that whole like enemy 1 freaks out when they see enemy 2 injured and enemy 2 is like ‘you hate me literally what is the problem’ and enemy 1 is just like ‘tell me right now who did this DONT TRY ME NO ONE CAN HURT YOU BUT ME’ 

yeah im so close to writing a darkling x reader like that that will most likely turn into a lemon/smut bc the line “I don’t let others break my play things” will nOT LEAVE ME ALONE

yeah. stop me pls i have the ap gov exam in two days. 

Tranquility

A/n about time i wrote something for my privateer,, my love, Nikolai Lantsov

Summary: You and Nikolai are masters of being a couple without actually dating, and the only thing threatening that is the way Nikolai gets after having a nightmare. 

--

Tranquility. So rare for a world on the cusp of war. I guess that’s what the difference between a world at war and a world only boarding on it, the occasional glimmers of goodness, peace. I shift cautiously, careful to not disturb Nikolai. He is tranquility, especially in the few moments in which he allows himself to rest. Not long ago, I found his trips to my bed in the middle of the night strange. But now I only think of the oddness of it when I can’t fall asleep and I find myself enjoying the peaceful lull of his even breaths more than I should. I think a lot of things we do are more indulgent than they should be. 

Nikolai only comes to visit me when the bags under his eyes become noticeable and his humor falls flatter than normal. I tell myself he takes my comfort because he trusts me to some extent and I give it to him willingly when he seeks it. I’m not fully innocent. I take his peace, his touch and warm sentiments, when they are offered to me. But now I’m bordering on something else. Something much more devastating. 

This isn’t something I can afford to think about, to weigh on. Not now when war is on its way and Nikolai already has so much to worry about. Perhaps I’ll mention this to Alina and she’ll manage to give me some type of perspective, but that isn’t something I should do now. When the world has ended or is made safe, then I will sort through the significance of the way my heart stalls or speeds up for him and him alone. 

I should just try to fall asleep again. If I do, when I wake up again Nikolai will either already be gone because of his duties or he’ll make some kind of joke about how fortunate I am to wake up to such a sight before trying to coax me back to bed. I shouldn’t want that.

Ugh. He’s so pretty, I hate it. It’s unfair--one cannot expect someone to have someone like Nikolai dote on them, playfully or otherwise, and not catch some type of connection. Even in sleep, with his golden hair disheveled, parted lips, and fluttering eyelids he’s unfairly attractive. I sigh, the irony of the situation twisting my stomach--if he knew my thoughts his ego would bask in them. 

As if he can feel my conflict, his defined eyebrows draw together, his placid expression turning harsh. I tense, watching as that look only hardens. Is he...okay? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had some kind of nightmare. Nikolai’s lips press together, and then he makes a noise. A sad, discomforted sigh. 

The remnants of my drowsiness disappear at that. I place a hand on his shoulder thoughtlessly, shaking him once. “Nikolai.” I keep my voice low and soft. His expression stays hard, “Wake up, it’s not…” He lets out another broken sound. I shake him a little more determinedly. “It’s not real.” 

Nikolai’s eyelids flutter once more, and he’s pushing himself upwards, sitting up and breathing harshly. My hand falls off his shoulder, but I think it’s better this way. He needs space to realize that he’s safe. 

Taking two shallow breaths, Nikolai turns his head. I watch him carefully, resisting the instinctual urge to help him, to comfort him and chase away the darkness that wants to engulf him. 

“Y/n?” His voice is so fragile a part of me doesn’t recognize it as his. 

I nod my head once, folding my hands in my lap to avoid reaching for him. “You’re okay. It was just a dream.” 

His gaze flits from my face to the ruffled blankets draped over me. He’s silent and still. Two things he should never be for a long period of time. Nikolai shifts slowly, as if still trapped in a daze. I let his hand take mine from my lap and pull it towards him. He squeezes my hand once, bringing my knuckles to his lips. I inhale sharply as he exhales, warm breath burning my skin. And then his lips brush against each knuckle. I let him, fighting not to let myself be reduced to a puddle. 

Nikolai lifts my hand, coaxing my palm open before placing it on his cheek. I brush my thumb down his cheek. He lets out a breath, the sound is soft yet it leaves my heart raw. 

I don’t say anything as he moves his hand down my arm, fingertips leaving my skin electrically charged as he always does. He pauses once his hand is on my shoulder. I let him grip me harder than I normally would. It feels like I am an anchor, weighing him in place so that the dark cannot take him away from me. 

My lips part, but I have no words to offer him, not when I don’t know the extent of his torment. Nikolai’s hand brushes past the sleeve of my nightgown and across my collarbone. I swallow once, dropping my gaze to avoid the sharpness of the look he’s giving me. 

“You’re heavy sometimes,” I keep my voice low, “I wish I could--” 

“You do,” his voice leaves no room for argument. The tone is filled with a tension that he has never used on me. “You do everything.” 

“And you are everything.” His expression softens at my words. It feels like a reward in a way. 

Nikolai moves forward, the bed makes a noise as he rustles the sheet. I don’t bother asking what he’s doing. He’s always touchier than usual after a nightmare, breaking even more social rules than normal. I let him place his head in the crook of my neck while ignoring the warmth that pushes itself into my chest as he adjusts himself against me. I hesitate before placing my hand on his back even though I know he’d never reject me. He lets out a breath at the additional contact, adjusting himself so that he’s even more against me. I move my hand up and down his back.

The urge to ask him about what his dreams are about bubbles in my chest, but I ignore it. If he wanted to speak about it, he would. 

“Things are easier with you.” His voice is so delicate it’s almost hard to bear. His hand presses into my side and my breathing stiffens as a result.“I’m glad you’re here.” 

I meet his gaze as he tilts his head upwards. “Of course I am, how could I ever resist someone as wonderful as you?”

The corner of Nikolai’s lips tug upwards, a sign that he appreciates my attempt at humor. “You’re not wrong, darling.” I roll my eyes as he grins, ignoring the way my stomach tightens as he presses his face into my shoulder to hide his amusement. “You’re the wonderful one.” 

I smile slightly, sarcastic retort dying in the back of my throat as something in Nikolai shifts. His eyes have taken on a simple, dark quality. I’ve seen this tension in him before, but I’ve never understood it. Nikolai tilts his head slightly, regarding me with more intensity than I know how to deal with. He shifts closer until I can feel his breath on the edge of my jaw. And then I feel his lips brush against skin. Testing, cautious. I don’t move. He must take this as a good sign because he then presses his lips further up my jaw. Again and again, always gentle, always fragile--always more welcomed than it should be. 

I close my eyes, indulging in the feel of his touch, and then I feel him touch my cheek. The contact is feather light as my eyes flutter open. He’s close in a different way now, lips two centimeters away from mine. 

This means nothing to him, this is nothing to him. It is just a way to push through pain he refuses to share with me. “Nikolai.” It’s meant to be a warning, but it comes out as a breathy sigh. “Nikolai…” A little stronger, he pauses, face a centimeter from my face. 

“Y/n.” My name is soft grace on his lips. 

My eyes shut. “You can’t--you can’t kiss me just because you need to be distracted.” 

His eyebrows draw together and then he straightens. The distance between us leaves me colder than before. “Do you really think that?” 

I press my lips together. “We should just go back to sleep--” 

“Y/n,” he sighs once, “Is that what you think?” 

I stare at the blankets, gripping the fabric. “Does it matter?” 

“Yes.” His voice is hard, losing all touches of irony. “It matters.” I stay silent, avoiding Nikolai’s gaze. “Out of all the reasons I want to kiss you, being distracted isn’t even on the list.” 

My head snaps in his direction. What is he implying? “What?” 

“Y/n,” his hand is on my arm, warm and tempting, “I want to kiss you because when you smile it feels like all the bad goes away. I want to kiss you because you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking and then that’s the only thing I can think about. I want to kiss you for the same reason I come to your room whenever I want to rest. You’re my tranquility.” My eyes soften at his words, my mind racing at the implications of them. “You’re biting your lip again, darling, and it’s torture.” 

On instinct, my lips part slightly. He doesn’t move closer or farther away. I exhale slowly, trying to push away the electric current the potential of this moment is stirring. Nikolai’s hand moves up my arm and settles on my cheek. 

His thumb brushes against my cheek, making me melt. “I want to kiss you because when I’m with you all of the bad, all of the uncertainty disappears.” 

Nikolai leans forward slightly, breath warm near my skin. “Is that all?” 

If his touch wasn’t so enticing I’d roll my eyes at such a blatant attempt to get a compliment. But his touch is all consuming, especially when he moves to run his thumb across my bottom lip. “No--you’re also ridiculously enticing, but something tells me you don’t need me to add to your ego.” 

He grins, shifting impossibly closer before finally letting his lips meet mine. The contact is everything I’ve ever needed, his lips warm and inviting and eager. I kiss him back easily, melting into him like that’s where I’ve always belonged. Nikolai pulls away slowly, drawing out the kiss and letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.

“For the record, you’re the only ego boost I need.” He smiles lazily, hand not leaving my cheek. “You’re my peace, y/n,” he exhales flatly, “Please remember that.” 

There’s something strangely sleepy yet revered about his tone. “Of course I will,” I hum, letting him rest his head against my chest, “You’re my peace, too.” 

“Sometimes when I dream I see you and then I lose you.” Nikolai’s tone leaves my heart sore as he adjusts against me. 

“You’re not losing me,” I whisper, eyes fluttering shut. “Ever.” He exhales gently. “Get some sleep--you never get enough rest.” 

He squeezes me once, pressing a quick kiss to my collar. “Whatever you want.” 

I half roll my eyes, too tired to to call him out on his teasing, the lull of sleep strengthened only by the weight of him against my chest. 

 --

general tag list: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

Solutions

A/n kinda a blurb that took me FOREVER bc my ADHD has been really bad today but people have been wanting more General Kirigan/Darkling x reader and someone requesting some the Darkling x reader angst so here it is :)

Summary: The Darkling comes to visit you while you’re half asleep

Warnings: implications of teasing if you squint but it doesn’t really go anywhere 

Something small in me registers the sound of the wooden door opening, the rest of me is too lost in sleep to react. The even footsteps are measured, deliberately soft. I can’t bring myself to stir, not even when I feel the duvet I’m covered with pulled down just enough to expose my face slightly. I’m still as soft fingers touch the side of my face that I’m not sleeping on. At first the touch is cautious and tactful, meant to be reserved, but then the touch brushes against my skin slowly. The touch feels so much like silk I can’t help but groggily incline towards it. He adheres to my silent request, adjusting his hand beneath my jaw and chin, patiently trailing his thumb up and down my skin. 

“You’re awake.” The accusation comes softly, lacking any kind of bite. 

I let out a long exhale. “No.” 

“Do you always have to disagree with me?” There’s an unusual graveness to his light scolding. 

I squint my eyes open slowly just so that I can glare at him. Always so dramatic. When my vision adjusts to the darkness of the room, I see that my instinctual analysis on his tone had been correct. He always seems to be touched by darkness, like the cost of controlling the shadows is something that can be physically seen. But there’s an extra edge to the gloom that clings to him, an exhaustion. It’s visible in the bags beneath his eyes and the way his pupils swallow the bit of moonlight that dares peer into the room. 

“Only when you’re being disagreeable.” My voice is drowsy, which is good because it masks my concern. He moves his hand off my cheek, I instinctually frown at the loss of contact but he’s quick to brush his fingers along my collar. “I don’t think you’re being disagreeable right now, though.” 

Something soft threatens to break across his expression. “No?” He keeps his motions tactful, tracing the outline of my shoulder and collar. “You seemed to think differently earlier.” 

He has such a talent for distracting me. “Why are you here, Aleksander?” 

At that, the corners of his lips pull upwards as he presses them together. The expression is so genuine something warm begins to flood my chest. His name on my lips alone is all it takes to crack the hard exterior he’s spent lifetimes curating. In an odd way it feels like a power, to be able to stir emotion in someone with a desire to be cold. 

He squeezes my shoulder lightly before placing one hand on the duvet that covers me. I say nothing when he pulls the blanket back entirely. “Say my name again,” he breathes, moving to sit on my bed so casually I almost doubt the oddness of it. “Please,” his voice reveals more than his words ever will. “I need to hear it.” 

I should not want to provide him any type of comfort, and yet my heart yearns to. “Aleksander.” 

He breathes out easily, relaxing like the name is physical contact. “I’m tired.” 

“Me too.” 

Aleksander turns, resting his back against a pillow. I should tell him to leave, I should send him away. He’s clearly not someone that should be trusted. Instead of doing that, I find myself rolling onto my back to give him the room he needs to lay down. What am I doing? Aleksander says nothing, he only turns over to lay on his stomach before stretching an arm out lazily, hand settling on the hem of my nightgown. 

“What are you doing?” 

He brushes his hand upwards, testing the waters as he hints at pushing up my nightgown. “Do you think me a monster without redemption?”

The question is so sudden and genuine it’s practically a blow to the chest. “No.” I answered too quickly, a part of me desperate for him to understand how much I mean my answer. “Sometimes I wish I did.” 

The unnecessary addition leaves his eyes burning. I won’t elaborate no matter what he does. I can’t. To explain to him the extent of my attachment would be to let him see the way he’s burrowed himself into my heart despite my desire to loathe him. 

Aleksander must know that I have no intentions to explain my words because instead of replying immediately, he moves his hand up and down my upper thigh gently. It takes all of my concentration to not let my breathing hitch. “What do you mean, Little Dove?” 

He keeps his voice patient as he continues to trace his fingers across my skin in what is meant to seem like a thoughtless pattern. However, I know his motions are calculated because with each second of silence his fingers edge closer to the inside of my thigh. 

“If I could convince myself you were some kind of irredeemable monster,” when I stall, his fingers continue to inch towards my inner thigh, forcing me to inhale sharply, “I’d be able to walk away from you.” He pauses. “But I can’t.” 

“I am what I am because I have to be.” Those words are all it takes for his typical exterior to return. 

I press my lips together. “If you’re going to be the way you are with everyone else than leave, I’m too tired to deal with that right now.” 

Aleksander draws his eyebrows together. The look he gives me is so pained with conflict I have to stop myself from reaching for him. I close my eyes, hoping that he’ll take it as a sign to do anything but continue this conversation. My desperation to not hold onto the way I see him is a testament to my attachment. It’s naive. 

I hear his motions and a part of me longs to ask him not to leave. The bed dips, his warm breath is on the side of my face, near my ear.“Sometimes I think I may be a monster and then I see you at my side.” His whispers leave goosebumps across my skin. “And I think someone as good as you would never be at the side of a true monster.” 

The words chip away at the last of my resolve. A skeptical part of me wonders if his words are meant to manipulate me the way he manipulates so many others. But his voice had been so raw, so desperate--I don’t think anyone could manufacture such feeling into words. 

“Aleks I don’t think I could leave your side if I wanted to.” He moves his hand easily, never losing contact with my skin as he settles his palm on my hip. “But I can’t support what you want to do.” 

The silence is a thick fog in the air that will never sit right in my lungs. “Then just stay.” 

We have not reached a solution. Perhaps a solution cannot be reached when the problem is...what? Infatuation? Adoration? Love? Yes. There is no resolution for any of those things because emotions rooted in care are much more dangerous than feelings rooted in hatred. 

“Yes,” I whisper, placing a hand on his back, “I’ll just stay.”

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship

DM/backup/new acc - yesimstillwriting

Hi!! This is @yesimwriting but from a different account bc of DM and technical glitches,, tumblr has blocked me from my messages making it impossible to see who requested what, i messaged Tumblr help and if they don’t fix the problem this will become my main account I will be posting a new fic on here today and if this account becomes more permanent i will repost my work on here :)