#I'm not done with all the buildings yet nor have made families for them to interact with

[cloudberry-sims]

Potential legacy founders...

Britta and Nils Tapper , first generation immigrants from Sweden to the fictional town of Walleye Creek, Minnesota.

Their surname "Tapper" means brave or valiant and was a soldier name. It was common practice for soldiers to have unique surnames do differentiate each other within the Swedish army , yet Tapper was pretty common name. Nils would have grown up in a "soldier croft" , a small cottage given to soldiers to host their family and to farm.

Swedish immigrants started to appear in the Americas between 1840-1920 due to the high birthrate , poverty and the religious climate at the time. Most settled in Minnesota and Chicago.

Headcanon is that Britta and Nils met on the boat to America as children or teenagers back in 1840.

Walleye Creek has a high population of Scandinavians , specifically Swedes and Norwegians, as well as German and Irish.

[genderqueerdykes]

I saw your post about AMAB Enbies and how non-binary isn’t a monolith and wanted to say I appreciated seeing it. As a 25-year-old socially anxious, autistic, and ADHD AMAB enby person, it’s hard for me not to feel like a lot of trans and LGBT spaces treat me like a fox in the henhouse, especially when there are physical attributes I can’t change, like my height and build, and how “manly” things like my hands and face are. I can’t exactly change my facial structure, nor do I think it’d be authentic to myself if I did or could. (Apparently, it’s a problem to have a well-kempt and styled beard?)

Unfortunately, when I interact with the local trans community, most conversations circle around whether I’m planning on medically transitioning or “getting some work done.” I don’t feel like I have something to transition to; I just need to work on improving my physical and mental health. They also often ask if I’m happy with my style/aesthetics, which I’m not. But it often feels like a catty jab because, one, who has the money for a professional boy-mode-ish wardrobe, a boy-mode/family-safe wardrobe, AND a gender-affirming wardrobe? There is some overlap between those three concepts, I know, but still… I can’t wear a tank top, fun/crazy button-up, and a pair of khaki booty shorts in an office setting, or god forbid, around parents or certain friends. XwX

A lot of my autistic and ADHD tics were “corrected” in harmful ways that have made me more restrained and subdued to a point where my excitement might seem a bit disconcerting at times. I used to talk with my hands a lot and fidget a lot, but since it wasn’t something “good boys” did, the behavior was “corrected” by my parents and the community I grew up in. I’m always kinda anxious and paranoid now in groups of semi-strangers that I’ll make a major faux pas and everyone will hate me or dogpile in correcting me.

Anyway, thanks for letting me ramble in your asks. I just wanted to say thank you for speaking out because some of us are afraid to. ^^;

hey i just wanted to say thanks for sending this ask! i really appreciate it because it irks me that people just participate in this behavior and act like that's what's to be expected or right. it's not okay, and i'm sorry you have firsthand experience with this, but i absolutely do not blame you at all whatsoever. it's fucked up that a lot of spaces for people who fall outside of the gender binary are beginning to police AGAB which is just. absolutely outrageous behavior from a community that is supposed to embrace and celebrate diversity in identity and how we experience gender outside of the binary...

but instead toxic people become obsessed with the biological sex binary. i don't know how to put it any other way than it is transphobic as fuck to say you don't feel safe around an entire group of people with/born with one specific genitals. their genitals have nothing to do you with you! nothing! those are their genitals, leave them the fuck alone! this is LITERALLY the "we don't give a fuck about AGAB" community and bioessentialists and transphobic queers are loudly and proudly excommunicating anyone from the community who was born assigned male at birth or has a penis in general.

i'm sorry to hear that people are so uptight about your body and physical appearance. the thing is that we are supposed to be embracing diversity in our bodies and appearances and experiences but yet they see someone who is... tall? or has a defined chin? or an adam's apple? or dense muscle tissue? or facial hair, like you mentioned? and suddenly they're... a threat? what the hell is this? it's transphobia, that's what it is!

you shouldn't have to transition if you don't want to. the thing about being non binary is that you presenting that way, especially if it's how you want to present, is literally challenging and stepping outside of the gender binary as we know it today. you are not required to go over the top and be the most femme person to have ever walked the earth. you're not required to have surgeries done or take hormones or dress different or change your voice... you don't have to change anything about you that you don't want to. that's one of the core principles of the trans community and we are letting down such a massive part of our family by behaving this way.

you really hit the nail on the head by bringing up your tics. i am so sorry that you have to deal with that worry- a LOT of people who are hostile toward amab transfems, trans women, and transfemmes in general target them specifically because of their mental health and/or neurodivergence. i've noticed this in person, especially if the amab non binary person in question has a loud voice and doesn't notice or has hearing damage and has to speak loudly, if they have tics as you mentioned, if they talk a lot or enjoy long conversations, if they try to explain... anything, people will target them for being "hostile" or for "arguing" when they're doing nothing wrong

people have gotten too comfortable in calling people with these features, especially people with deep voices, facial/body hair and penises, make someone "scary" or "dangerous". people are literally gladly applying radfem logic to the nonbinary community and not questioning it. radfems are attempting to rope in nonbinary afab people as they view them as "confused women," so the more we support this behavior, the more we lose grasp on our own family and community. we can't allow people to think this is okay behavior

i don't understand why people are okay with cis butch women but not okay with butch or gender non conforming transfems, trans women and amab trans people. i despise the notion that amab and intersex people can't be gender non conforming. why is gender non conformity reserved for afab people? has everyone forgotten (or patently ignored) the rich history of amab non binary and gender non conforming people we've had over the many decades of recorded history throughout our community in this modern era?

amab people should be allowed in these spaces, because there are just as many ways for amab people to step outside of the gender binary as there are afab and intersex people. everyone is capable of stepping outside of the binary for their identity and nobody has the right to police what that looks like. nobody. if one genuinely has trauma being around people of certain body types, seeking some type of therapy is crucial, because this is projecting one person's specific trauma on to an entire group of people, and it's spreading like wildfire and becoming the default in these spaces

this is not an attempt to derail, but rather to point out that this affects ALL trans people: fearing these traits in any person of any agab affects trans men, transmascs, intersex people, and other trans people in general. someone can have these features for a variety of reasons. also, if we're leaving out trans men & mascs, and we're leaving out trans women & femmes, AND we're leaving out AMAB people in general... how the HELL is that a trans community? there's no community to be had there whatsoever! that's an echo chamber! that's a radfeminist belief breeding ground!

we cannot let radfems and transmisogynist let nonbinary spaces become "gender non conforming women, afab trans people and people with a vagina only" spaces, because at what point, why are you calling it the nonbinary community? people need to be brutally honest and call those spaces women's spaces, or EXPLICITLY tell people that they are made only for people assigned female at birth. that wouldn't be ideal but it would at least make this transparent so people would know to avoid that and possibly start up their own safer spaces for ALL trans people

leaving out amab trans people no matter how they identify means your space is not safe for ALL trans people. it needs to be safe for every trans person no matter what they were assigned at birth. we are failing a huge portion of our community for no reason other than for people to project their trauma onto a group of people that haven't hurt them. we can't let down our family like that. it affects us all. we are stronger together and the nonbinary communities become more nuanced and develop better resources and enable all trans voices as opposed to 1 very specific type of trans person

thank you for this ask, sorry for such a long winded reply but i am so sick of people being awful to amab trans people in general. you deserve to be able to be non binary openly and talk about it with other queer people. i hope you're able to find safer spaces to be who you are, you deserve that just like any other queer person. you don't deserve to feel like you're walking on eggshells the entire time you're around other nonbinary people because you were assigned a different sex at birth, and you have different genitals than they do... that's literally antithetical to transness as a concept and queer community on the whole

you don't have to adhere to a strict binary just because you are amab and trans, i hate how people tell you and other folks in your shoes those exact things. you know who you are, you are a non binary person, and i hope more people begin to challenge this behavior and speak up for others, because this is literally not queer community. this is petty infighting being influenced by transmisogynist politics that does not belong. that has nothing to do with queer community, that is an attempt by radfems to disassemble our community at every possible level.

please for the love of god stop giving them that. it's hurting us all

[dohaerislykiri]

Why am I Team Green? Short answer, I support the tradition and customs of that time and respect the precedent that was set by the Great Council of 101. Westoros is not an absolute monarchy. If Viserys wanted to break from tradition he should have done more in codifying a law that allows for 1st born to rule regardless of gender across the kingdom. But he didn't do that. He was only thinking about Rhaenyra.

For me, it's not even about Rhaenrya vs Aegon, and who would be a better ruler. I think both would be/are terrible options mainly due the choices, poor judgment, and decisions they make. Neither were prepared to rule nor took duty seriously. Rhaenyra spent most of her years doing what she wanted on Dragonstone. During the times since being named heir, Rhaenyra did nothing to build or grow her relationships with the lords of the realm. She again used Viserys connections as a proxy instead of laying the groundwork for herself, especially since they were breaking precedent and changing the culture. Aegon was ignored and made to feel unworthy. He had a king for a father, but a father who showed little interest in grooming, raising, and teaching his 1st born son how to lead, politic, or rule. Viserys was a bad father who showed favoritism and exercised neglect. Both Aegon and Rhaenyra probably should have been skipped over with either Aemond or Daeron being the king (let Aegon abdicate and sail away or live his life wherever and Rhaenyra can stay at Dragonstone or go into exile with Daemon).

Being with the Greens does not mean I condone everything they do (because I dont), same if I were Team Black. Neither side are spotless.

I also, don't dislike all the Blacks. I like Jace, Luke, Corlys. Others, I'm indifferent towards at this point in the story.

Being for the Greens IS NOT about Aegon individually for me. He just happened to be the 1st son. It could literally be Aemond or Daeron in Aegon's spot and I'd feel the same.

Speaking of Aemond, he hadn't done anything wrong up until the last scene of episode 10. All the other times he was the one being picked on for not having a dragon, the pig dread incident, being spoken too rudely (it's him), he's the one he gets physically assaulted (by Rhaena and Baela 1st then it's Jace who punches Aemond at the dinner toast). At 10, he gets his eye sliced and permanently blinded, but his own father just ignores it. Viserys in all his weak leadership avoided confronting a problem yet again. Luke should have been punished...stripped of his titles, removed from inheritance, loss of his dragon...something instead of nothing. Viserys inaction solidified the division between the family. The Greens saw that their lives and safety is secondary and not important when it comes to Rhaenrya and the Blacks.

The Strong boys got dealt a crappy hand by their mother...and father... being born in time where bastardy had consequences. It absolutely matters. If it didn't matter Rhaenrya, Viserys, and Daemon wouldn't go out of their way to insist on torturing, mutilating, and killing people for speaking the truth. Those are not Laenor's biological children. It's obvious he wasn't that attached because he took the deal to fake his death then abandon the boys. Another selfish act on the behalf of Rhaenyra and Daemon. So the whole "he's the legal father" argument just doesn't hold water.

Same with Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron. Viserys sired Rhaenyra's direct competition. It's not their fault. Despite Viserys saying Rhaenyra is his heir, many in the realm just flat out don't agree with it. If Rhaenyra ascends, her challenge is still alive. Greens saw the problem and wanted to act, Blacks would do the same. With Rhaenyra being the elder sibling, she couldn't even be bothered with establishing a better connection with her younger siblings. She went as far as suggesting 10yo Aemond should be "questioned sharply", meaning tortured. Do I think she would have personally come for them? No. But there are certainly some close to her who would have no problem solving the problem...looking at you Daemon Killagain Targaryen.

Rhaenyra did not visit Viserys for years despite knowing he was sick. Six years she was gone, but returns only because she wanted him to back her in the Driftmark conversation. Then complains about Alicents redecorating. And then they looked at Viserys condition but concluded he didn't need to be on milk of the poppy.

Otto is a villain in a way that any feudal lord who is that close to power would see how much more he could get. Him pushing Alicent seems foul when looking at the situation through modern eyes, but given the time, it's not out of sync with the those customs. Children of nobilty were pawns used to marry for status, security, alliances. If Viserys intention were to not name his children heirs, then he shouldn't have even remarried. But Viserys is weak and passive. Otto saw the door open and went for it. Part of the game. He wasn't wrong to tell Alicent they would come for her sons if Aegon isn't king.

I like Alicent. I like her for her duty and doing what was asked of her. She was already an anxious and stressed young lady, then she becomes queen. She loses a most of her friends and has very few allies. She loves her children, and really has been the main advocate for their well-being when Viserys couldn't be bothered. Sure Otto wants the power, but he's limited in that regard. Criston trains them to be disciplined, effective fighters and warriors.

Criston broke his vows as member of the kings guard sleeping with Rhaenyra. If he got caught, that's death for him. He loses everything. He had to work for his achievements. Rhaenyra was simply born into it. Rhaenyra wouldn't suffer any consequences. He caught feelings, but she just wanted to use him as her f-boy. She broke his heart and part of him died inside and now he's cold and calculating. He was on the brink of death until Alicent saved him. Again, another example of Rhaenyra just being selfish in not caring about who she hurts.

If I step back, what I see happening is a battle of the 2nd sons: Otto vs Daemon; Aemond vs Luke; Daemon vs Aemond; Vaemond vs Luke. In each of those standoffs, I find myself identifying with the Greens more. I'm not blind to seeing the Blacks perspective either. Ultimately, these are all men with no inheritance in a time where inheritance is everything. So they will fight to the death to get it. 💚💚

[autumn-foxfire]

Do you think there’s any way to salvage hawks and todoroki plot?

Now? Not for me, personally.

I've been disappointed with Hawks story since the HPSC plot had been snuffed out after the war with the death of the director. They had been built up to be the bad on the hero side that the villains had been talking about (though most of what they say is hot air as the world lacks serve world-building) so their collapse was subpar and disappointing.

I still enjoyed Hawks as a character though despite that because I wanted to see what could still be done with him. I disliked how much of his character was being used to fluff up Endeavor at first (though many fans of Hawks also enjoyed it so I'm not sure if that is personal preference) however Hawks did seem to get to be his own character in the war beyond just a cheerleader.

I'm not sure how I feel about his wings being taken. I've always found him losing his wings to be iffy, especially with how the fandom used to frame it as "freeing" him as this wasn't a part of his own body. I hate the framing that him losing a body part is good for him, it's very icky.

However Hori had already made his wings so damaged that even AFO commented on it which was another decision of his I didn't really like because it came across as punishing him for his decisions even though it was a decision he made under extreme stress and did ultimately save lives.

I feel like Hori's made very uncomfortable and icky decisions with Hawks that killed a lot of my enjoyment of his story.

As for the Todoroki plotline, it started off strong and interesting but I think a lot of the issues with it lies with Touya. Hori wants his villains to be saved yet he's done nothing to endear us to his villains beyond making them sympathetic to an extent. Touya has shown us time and time again his disregard to human life, especially that of his brother who was a victim of their father like him, and yet Shouto still feels like he has to save his brother.

He wasn't allowed to be upset with him and angry with him over the harm he did to his friends. We just cut to him being determined to save his brother which wasn't all that great. Yes, family and family bonds can be strong and moving, but in a story the author needs to build them.

And then we have Touya being so destructive that he's cremating him just to acheive his goals. How do you save someone with no will to live and such a strong desire to kill his own family? I don't know and Hori hasn't shown us how either.

This is why I dropped the manga. Two of the plotlines I was the most interested in have just gone in directions that I no longer enjoy nor find any enjoyment in. I'm not going to say "Hori should do this! He should do that!" because simply enough that isn't what he's doing and I shouldn't expect him to do so.

I still love the characters and the potential I personally enjoyed in the plotlines but I know it's not going how I wanted it to and it's time for me to let it go.

[acourtofthought]

Hello!

I don't know why I can't comment on your post, but I realized it's not just your account anyway. Your post was very accurate about what I think about bonds and characters.

Lucien has been rejected his entire life, he didn't choose that bond, yet the Mother and/or Cauldron made them equal.

SJM had Ccity to work on bonding refusals or even removing the idea of ​​partners. She didn't do that, on the contrary, she included four mating couples.

I would accept any refusal of a bond but Lucien's. It's too unfair, even if the partnership is fake as the Elriel insist to be equal to Rowan's would be very unfair. Rowan had a false partnership, but he loved his wife and they were going to have a child together. He grieved for their deaths and never forgot.

Lucien didn't have anything from Elain, nor did he make friends during those years. Mor says in acofas that "they weren't ready yet" and I really believed that this would be a start for them.

Elriel supporters revel in the theory of forbidden romance (which doesn't exist in their trope). They'd love to see them hiding from Lucien in the dead of night, those things make me sick. Elain has the right to refuse the partnership, just do it, there would be no point playing with Lucien.

Same case is Gwyn, why did SJM put emphasis between her and Az during acosf if it was for nothing? There were scenes that didn't even need to include details about the two of them.

What about Bryce and Hunt's extra chapter that's the same as Azriel's? (a book released a year after acosf). These jokes with the reader would be disgusting, sorry for the outburst.

SJM never gave Elriel language or signs other than an attraction, but this we had hundreds of couples like: Feylin, Chaolaena and Dorian and Sorsha. They were couples who had more romance time than Elriel and they weren't endgames.

These people need to respect the kindred spirits that SJM writes about.

I'm really loving everything you just said.

And your first point is so valid. E/riels like to claim Az needs someone to choose him so he can see his worth but, he's had 500+ years with the people who did choose him.

Sure maybe Mor didn't choose him for a relationship but she still loves him and he has an entire group of people who would die for him. Who have made him a priority in their lives. Even Nesta who disliked most of the IC was really decent to Az.

Exactly who is making Lucien a priority in their life? And he has been rejected over and over again since the series started. His family, Tamlin, even Feyre when she didn't feel all that bad using him as a pawn. Nesta certainly didn't care for Lucien before the end of SF where we get hints she's coming around.

Why even keep Lucien around, having us see the members of the IC slowly coming around to him if SJM isn't building to an accepted Mating Bond?

And yes to your comment about Crescent City! I never looked at it that way. SJM kept the Mate theme going which you're right, she didn't have to do. If as a Fated Mates author she felt it was too cliche for her characters to find their actual Mate (I hate this argument because no one accuses other trope-centric authors of writing too many books in that trope 🤦), she could have moved on from it in her new series.

I like that you brought of what Mor said because that's not in there for no reason.

Reader: Boy! Why hasn't Elain done anything about the bond?! Or even Lucien?!

SJM through Mor: “Stay out of it. She’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.”. “Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her.”

I mean, is that not currently what's going on in SF? They're both trying to find if their new lives "fit" but I think we're going to see they don't. But that's ok, it's normal to explore and make mistakes before finally ending up where you're supposed to. Figuring out who you want to be takes a little more than a year after you both experienced some extreme changes.

Really, 👏👏👏 to your entire message.

[arolesbianism]

Dst role swap au concept rambles under the cut cause oopsie I chose roles for mostly everyone and I have thoughts now

So ok basic lore, I'm thinking I'm not gonna like fully boot Wagstaff from the picture but he's also not gonna be particularly well. Alive. He and Wx were similarly coworkers as in canon, but Wx may or may not have done a bit of an oopsie doopsie maybe kind of purposeful murder. After that they had to kind of half-hazardly remake their identity, which is honestly kind of convenient for them in some regards, but it does mean having to build their resources back up again. Around this time, they would have met a teenage Wilson, who was just beginning to socially transition as a trans man and was also itching to get to do some ~proper science~ and all that jazz. Wx saw this vulnerable eager volunteer and decided to allow him to be their lackey and not too long after they made their way back to the us, now with this cringe fail british boy following them around everywhere like a baby duck. They didn't pay much mind nor care to him initially, but as time went on he grew on them a lot more than they were expecting, to the point it eventually sunk in too hard and caused them to freak out. Before all they got to have that freak out tho, dear ol' Willyson came across a certain book of mysterious origins. He initially tried hiding it from Wx, hoping to showcase his own scientific skills without feeling second to someone. Wx eventually found out though, and they initially kind of panicked, but not being able to pull up a reason for their panic (it's because they were worried abt Wilson but they weren't abt to admit that lol) they tried to force down their anxieties and they instead scolded Wilson for withholding new resources and took the book from him. This upset Wilson a lot, but after a bit of back and forth he backed off, mostly at the threat of not being allowed to work with it at all if he kept arguing with them. The two would continue to look into it, but a clear tension had begun to form between them, and Wx continued to struggle to grapple with their unease at Wilson's involvement in this. Eventually Wx kind of impulsively decided that the two of them should put an indefinite pause on researching the book and the power contained within, which lead to yet another argument between the two, this one much more nasty than any of their previous ones. Wx eventually forcibly shut down the conversation as they got overwhelmed by unexpected emotions, and after that they finally had that oh fuck I like really care abt him moment that causes them to freak out. As a result of this, they once again act on impulse and fire Wilson and kick him out of their lab that they both had been living in. This, understandably, makes Wilson super upset and angry and scared and just a god damn mess. Not only was he being betrayed by the person he sacrificed his old life for, but he was also now being put into the position of being homeless in a place far far away from any old family and friends that could have helped him, so all in all he was freaking out rly bad. In an act of desperate anger, he broke back into the lab a few days later to steal the book, he was the one who found it after all. Wx of course didn't take this well, and the two got into a bit of a wrestle, resulting in Wilson attempting to use the power of the book, which proceeded to backfire on the both of them and voila, constant time. Oh and for a bit if additional context, at the time that they entered the constant Wilson was in his early 20s and Wx was in their late 30s to early 40s, so currently Wx would be abt 50

[orphilos]

* .☾ ° 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄 , @thieviant ↴

" what i have with you, i don’t want with anyone else. "

UPON HIS WORDS, eyes of gentle hues set themselves 'pon Akira's, ( they do not dare to dart away, nor is what he said dismissed. ) instead, an airy, light laugher pushes through lips. the false god he had thought to be his enemy ( a threat to society itself as best ) had never looked less of one before this moment. — had he finally found somebody in which their presence had been worthy enough to start cracking down the wall he had built over the course of years? a wall that. had been built for not only others but for his self? ( surely, Minato had to notice it too. after all, the two are one && the same. ) both building their own walls to protect themselves from the cruel world — Minato had never been one to fear DEATH, not in a sense of his own well being. ( to be precise, ) he had always feared losing others but never himself. everybody had a reason to keep going. ( but unfortunately, Minato had always thought otherwise when the subject fall 'pon his future. ) 

life may have had no plan for him, but death surely did — && even in this twist of fate. this whole exchange the two had was only be a temporary stay ( nothing more && nothing less. ) yet, even in the short period of time that he is given. he cannot deny that he had begun to grow a ' fondness ' for the other — ( && such a fondness had been mutual. ) perhaps it was a result of the arcana playing its part, with both feeling something akin to familiarity. perhaps, it was the two's understanding of one another's loneliness settling in that they found themselves embracing in each other's arms for what they had longed for ( comfort && security. ) It's an exchange that the two arguable wondered if what they had felt was considered normal to have with the person that you viewed as your enemy….

( no, of course, it wasn't. )

even so, it'll be foolish for him to view what they had together as something he'd have with anyone else — the closest he could possily think of doing such a thing, would ( unsurprising ) be with that of S.E.E.S. as they've been they only people that he had viewed as family, however, that was what made the exchange confusing. Akira was neither a friend nor ally, ( he was an enemy. ) — && even though, the two were aware of it, it made it nearly impossible to not see a part of himself through Akira. the both of them were struggling with their own demons, however, Minato was simply fortunate enough to find a group that supported him through times in which he felt alone...

Akira did not have such luxury. 

needless to say, it is not shocking that Akira would say such words to him. anybody would've said it, had they've been through a similar situation, && to feel as though they had finally find somebody ( enemies or not. ) — to stay by their side, through even the not so calming && relaxing moments. his laugher lingers far longer than anything he has done before; it's unlike the quiescent to laugh in the face of what would be his opponent ! ( it had been considered cruel, ) but with it towards Akira. someone he knew, would not be bothered by such an action. — && as such, he had no need to concern himself with it. ❛ Hehe, really? ❜ a voice that sounded almost sarcastic, mocking the tone of his words. as though they are meant to be dismissed so easily && without a care.

that had been until he approached him, ( no hesitate, no fear, no worries ) with arms wrapped themselves around Akira's waist, pulling him close against his form. ( ❝ i'm always here for you... ❞ ) 

❛ I guess, you could say, I feel the same way. ❜

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

Haven’t done a personal vent in a while, but...here goes.

Content Warning for transphobic parents, transphobic laws in the USA, mentions of unpleasant or bad news (via a song cover on TikTok), heavy emotions.

Read at your own risk (and if you do, some reassurance would be welcome too).

So....some backstory before I dive into why I'm upset right now:

- came out as genderfluid to mother in 2019 (now 5 years ago). she somehow interpreted this as “neither man nor woman” and exclusively used they/them (but she/her behind our back, including on the phone). we tried to correct her but she didn't listen at all. didn't know we were a system yet.

- updated her 3 months later that we were a man actually & wanted he/they. she didn't listen at all and kept assuming genderless ish neither man nor woman and only using they.

- updated her in 2021 (3 years ago), because we knew we were a system now (didn't tell her but informed our understanding of our gender better) and knew we were masc nonbinary (man ish). asked for he/him pronouns.

- outed us to our uncle (Uncle P) on the phone, very snarky “yeah they use they/them now”. Loudly yelled down the hall “he/him! if you're gonna out me, at least get it right!”

- continues to use they/she. reminded her in 2022 that we asked for he/him.

- been asking again, every 2-3 months this past year, gently encouraging and asking for effort. agreed to be patient with this big change.

- started testosterone May 2nd 2023 (approaching 10 months ago)

- gave them 3 different books on being transgender and supporting your trans child. they had resources at their fingertips.

- she continues to she/they us. she argues that we're not being patient enough when we protest.

- 6 months on T (November), finally told her we were on T because she noticed facial hair finally (“the women in our family don't have *that* much facial hair”). she was shocked it had been 6 months already. somehow hadn't noticed our voice drop an octave* or so.

*the musical term - this is about 8 notes on a solfege scale (do re mi fa so la ti do), which if you're not familiar with that, it lines up with piano keys (C-D-E-F-G-C-D-E on a major key) and is quite a jump.

- discussed with her how happy testosterone had made us. she knew we understood it to be the best decision we'd made for ourselves.

- Yule (Dec 21st), we bring our girlfriend over. she genders us correctly. both parents get visibly uncomfortable. we're shooed out the door after only two hours (usually 4-6 hour minimum event).

- gets service on secondary phone with new number that parents can't contact, preparing to go No Contact. uses secondary phone way more often. forgets to check original number for up to a week at a time. easier to not feel obligated to talk to parents.

- one month ago, finds out parents both knew we had bipolar. we had finally gotten meds (lamotrigine (medication name) / Lamictal (name brand)), they helped a lot, so we told father about that and he said “oh we knew”. he doesn't explain.

- asks mother when they first realized, why they didn't tell me, & what other mental illnesses or neurodivergent traits they noticed & didn't mention.

- mother says they specifically called it bipolar 2 years ago (2022) and that she thought they discussed it in front of me (father says they did not, & just didn't want to “force a label” on me). also tells me she knew we were ADHD in fourth grade, 9 to 10 years old (diagnosed professionally at 16), and also knew at the same time we had an anxiety disorder but she assumed it would be cured by forcing us into Gendered Scouts and trying to “just build self confidence”.

- also admits that she noticed in high school that we were trans, but she phrases it as “you suddenly started caring about being perceived female because the boys were flirting immaturely, and you just needed self defense classes and self confidence”.

- realizes she hasn't changed that very misinformed view of our transgender realization journey (said the same thing when we came out 5 years ago). upset, but decides to ghost her for 4 or 5 days instead of saying something. realizes we definitely need to go No Contact.

~~

& then, yesterday / last night:

- sends TikTok video to her (this one:)

- is seeking reassurance & comfort, or at least to laugh together about it.

- she replies with her usual dismissive line to avoid accountability, “well, if everyone picked a small thing at a local level, we could affect change”. true fact, but only brought up to dismiss emotions and avoid accountability.

- gets angry, because feeling hurt.

- sends her several recent (last two years) transphobic laws (including Texas trying to label parents who support their trans kids’ social transition as “abusive” and place trans kids with families that will “convert” them; including bathroom bans, sports bans, drag bans; including West Virginia very recently actually trying to outlaw trans people from public life entirely). it's a lot of text and screenshots of the news.

- “This is about *me*, mom. This is my life. This is MY life, and my friends’, and my girlfriends’ and their girlfriends’*, and any adult who has ever supported me. We're long overdue for a full-scale revolution.”

*we're polyam, have 2 gfs and they have a lil polycule with 2 or 3 others

- follows up with a text that's more personal, “on a more personal note”, about her lack of support and her never even once using he/him or our given name.

- specifically says “when you don't even make an effort, I feel unloved, unseen, unwanted, and unheard”

- also says “I am in pain. I am your son.”

- ends message with heavy emotional line “Learn to love me, or at least tell me you can't and I'll find a parent who will.” ((insinuating no contact))

- tempted to delete, hesitates. hits send on a message we'd normally never send. too firm of a boundary, must be a threat, bad ultimatum.

- feels like a bad son, bad person, etc.

- expects her to lash out. expects several attempts to call, or many angry texts, or at best to be ghosted / left on read for a week (the way she did when we admitted we feel uncomfortable during family gatherings & wanted to bring gf). expects her to tell father & cut off our car insurance and all remaining (admittedly pitiful/pathetic) financial support.

- panics, turns phone she can contact completely off.

- cue today.

- goes to appointment with employment specialist, prepares to have them talk to new job about accommodations as soon as this job sees that we're worth keeping. specialist says am easy to work with because I already know what accommodations I need and what I need in a supportive workplace. calls me “very capable”. feels a little better.

- leaves appointment. anxiety builds again.

- gets home (~10:30a)

- terrified to turn phone back on. still haven't (12p).

~~~~

....It's been one heck of a day and a half. I'm reeling with how bold that boundary was and how it's been a long time coming but I still feel “mean” and like I'm “a bad son” for letting on how hurt I actually feel.

~Nico

[joelwindows7]

Yes, I am way to old and reaches retirement age, already, which is

Above 20s nah wait that not true, it's age_of_demise_passionjob.

Hear me out.

I have been having mental challenges in my life as days goes. These people have been successful, at the age of the earliest as possible. Never been marketed those who success as late near retirement nor even natural demise.

Every time I see them, my envy grows and my feel as an utter failure exponentially gets stronger. 2023, wow, 24? Did not made over at least a billion USD?? I am a trash!

But owiebrainhurts made us feel better. She gave us snippet of an article, that in average the circumstance of success would be around 50s, like examples of people shown in video. Damn it where sauce..

Wait. I still have.... 30 years around!..... hold on. Steve Balmer in his 50s would then only got around 10 years that time, I think. I'd only feel income and joy for 10 years only!! No... that's dark. We live very short today, I tell you!

I still pray though.

The house? No, I don't care the house. I don't play Yay I bought my own house!!!, no no no. Not interested. Just have this house, If move, family includes. No separation allowed, ... personally. Together. Small together, big together. I have other interest.

Look. My interest is not to get money. I want money, so I can enjoy little machines, and do my duty. All MIDIs, 3D models, games, every files to be. Build something out of these, that all gamers can enjoy without barriers. And this.. I lacked the resource needed to ahold these before they gone. I will get them, as much as I can, but limited in my situation of my time.

Maybe I should offer you a service. But it's different. It is that, ... you only pay, to unprocrastinate it.

What is it? .... Render... too heavy, not complete yet. MIDI... whoah, that's big. Wait. I remember. I had ever twice, to edit a MIDI. Make them plays best in any synth I could have. Oh.. and 1 I make.

Huh..

You got a MIDI full band music here? You know.. one that you open sounds like a trash can? .. yeah? That.

Okay, send me one. I'll handle this. Despite that... I can only do this for S-YXG2006LE, and this... ARGH F8888 HELL IT'S DEDD, uh it's this waveform MIDI thing.. can read SoundCanvas..

DM Prefix: PLS_UNTRASH_MIDI

Sorry, Genos expensive. Can't lie and shall not, that, I envy people off island lives in even smaller house, got it. Must be the Dangdut hireables people. Help me out. Pls.

Got business. I got.. something else to attend. Full rules to be made.

Damn.

I don't get monetized. I lost all of them, or say that.. it's never been.

I'm lazy. Wake me up with cash, or no need if I think that's too important to ignore. I want to play games. If you just... really want me to do it da right now,... go ahead, insist me, how much ever you want, send the MIDI download link in the donation note. Must be as official as possible, or if you don't know, whatever just send it.

No refund. I tried my best. I only have outdated instruments here, nor I got any idea how to perfect it. Which is why I send you back untrashed, not yet done, never will. May make improvements If in time to retalk this again.

No exclusive privately. All gamer had to have it. I hate no download link. So pls avoid paywalled or uhh private files, coz uhh can't afford to be caught by my own government. If that's yours, okay. Not?, file has to be... public, and $0.

Ah pusing

By JOELwindows7

Perkedel Technologies

CC4.0-BY-SA

What else?

Said wrong, sorry, I got lots of things to do.

[jatavia-nicole]

https://music.apple.com/us/al

bum/at-least-we-tried/1627365840?

¡=1627366445

I wasn't raised around weak women, nor was I hurt by men my entire life. granted victimized in unspeakable ways sure but I didn't learn my relationship rules and roles from women. I was raised around men that beat their wives, had entire families yet still tended to all their hoes and side families with no one batting a eyelash... im talking the worst of the worst when it comes down to how to treat the person you claim to love and have started a family with.. my mom always talks about how great of a man my grandfather was... but left out how bad he beat my grandmother... he was always gentle and sweet with his kids and grandkids but not with the woman he loved... I studied that man. I wanted to embody what it meant to be him... drug dealing and all... especially the way he was able to treat women like the shit on the bottom of his shoe while they treated him like some type of messiah... till his death shit still to this day he garnered this unwavering love.

I set out on this journey to humble men. shit they know | treat them like shit they know i hate them to the say the least yet they have this magnetic pull towards me? They can’t get enough of being pushed and pulled almost… but with honesty. He was always honest he either told you or he just didn’t. Simple.

There’s this weird piece though because he always loved me he showed unwavering love and support to me growing up... in ways that i needed. so i kind of do the same when i come across a guy that i can tell is dealing with a lot. its weird tbh. kind of all over the place.

how can someone teach me how to love and build yet hate and destroy with no clear instructions on how and when to do these things. i never seen him cry so... i never cried.

sadness was met with anger and a angry me is a ignorant me.

here i am in a situation where i possibly love someone and i have to coach myself out of toxic tendencies because yes technically we aren't together but emotionally i don't want anyone else to see me as vulnerable as he has....or does... i also want to meet him with the same softness he meets me with i want to be those things he is to me and then some but i also don't want to lose my footing. i cant fathom the idea of having my feet swept from under me and landing on my face... but i also have these dark tendencies that yell GO FUCK SOMETHING! USE YOUR BODY TO NUMB YOUR PAIN! GO MAKE A GROWN ASS MAN YOUR BITCH JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN JUST BECAUSE YOURE THAT BITCH AND YOU HAVE THE POWER TO DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!!

but I cant? I don't want to... am i wrong for not doing these things that have nullified my emotions and made me numb? am i wrong for not wanting to completely disassociate from someone that has shown me actual patience and care? am i playing a stupid game?

having to constantly fight these toxic ways that have just festered and grew overtime is work. its really a lot of work. i don't feel like he understands sometimes…which can mean i don't feel like its appreciated... but i have to remind myself that this is for me... not for him... well in the moment yes... will it be in vain if this blows up in my face?? no because by the time I'm done with these toxic ideologies this will either be one of the most beautiful love stories... or one of the most beautiful mistakes ive ever made... my goals are in motion ive given myself a very narrow window and when I set my mind to something it gets done.

may 3rd 2023

[libraryofloveletters]

Chapters From An Old Book

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: alcohol and the consumption of, being cheesy, mentions of pregnancy and birth, britta being over seb’s nonsense, horner mention lmao, jenson being a little match maker, a trip down memory lane, mentions and references to sex, it’s giving anti ferrari for a slight second there, mark cameo + lance and sara cameo!, heart felt conversations, talks of his retirement. 

Word Count: 6.8k

Author’s Note: once again, i'm writing a flashback fic and are we surprised ? no. also shut up i’m emotional over this 35 year old german guy. -- based on this ask - one

italics are flashbacks! 

---- 

The door to the girls’ bedroom shut behind you quietly, you made your way down the stairs slowly so it wouldn't creak. 

“Sebastian?” You called into the empty house, he was somewhere around here. He had been ‘nesting’ so to speak; trying to figure out what’s to come next. 

This was a big decision and it had been weighing heavy on him. 

You can hear the thumping coming from the basement and a groan, you follow the sound down to find your husband sitting on the floor with a bunch of storage containers and boxes. 

"Hi honey,” he glances at you, patting the spot next to him. 

You join him on the floor. “What’s all this?” You ask, peeking into the box in front of him. He pulls out a stack of photos, held together with a rubber band. 

“Just going down memory lane.” 

Sebastian wasn't one for looking to the past, good nor bad; so you knew something was up if you found him down here. 

He was flipping through the pictures when you found a CD in the box. “What’s that?” He asks, you make your way over to put it into the DVD player you had in the basement. 

“No clue, but we're about to find out.” 

You hit play and return to Seb, the two of you looking at the screen.  It’s a copy of his first win, Monza 2008; there’s a few scratches on the CD because it jumps a bit but you glance at your husband. 

“That’s one of the greatest moments of my life.” He smiles, his eyes fixed on the screen. 

“Why only one of the greatest? Why not the greatest?” 

Sebastian turns to face you. “That might be the one that started it all, but I won four championships, and don't forget that I met you and we got married, and we have children. Those are the greatest moments of my life.” 

You can’t help but smile, your hand cupping his jaw, “I love you.” 

“I love you,” he smiles, leaning over to kiss you. 

He flips through some of the photos in his hand when he stops on one of them, showing you. “Remember this ?” 

The photo was of you and your best friend, Lia, squished in between Jenson and Sebastian outside of a club in Barcelona. 

“How could I not remember that?” You laughed, taking the photo from him and you glanced down at the picture. “That was the night we met.” 

Barcelona, 2009. 

The club was packed; drivers, crews and other partygoers squished into the building. Your best friend, Lia, pulls you onto the dance floor with her when her favourite song comes on. 

You weren't even supposed to be in Spain, you should be home studying for your midterms during your reading week. Lia’s parents were huge fans of F1 and her father’s side of the family came from money so they always attended races. Lia and Jenson met earlier in the season and hit it off, they weren’t officially a couple yet but they basically were. 

So when Jenson invited her along to the Spanish GP, of course she brought you along. Not that Jenson minded either, he was always a ‘the more the merrier’ type of guy. 

Jenson had done remarkably well that weekend, starting in pole and ended up winning the race with his teammate, Rubens, in second which gave Brawn a 1-2. 

You were trying to cram in a little studying; how boring of you honestly. 

Jenson and Lia had other plans, basically kidnapping you from your room and dragging you to the club with them to celebrate Jenson’s win. 

Lia and you were on the dance floor for a bit before she dragged you back up to the booth they had, finding Jenson talking to an extremely blonde guy who clearly caught your attention and your friend noticed as much. 

“That’s Sebastian,” she tells you, sitting next to you. You glance over at her, “okay so ?” 

Lia laughs, nudging you with her shoulder. “I can see the look on your face, you’re into him.” 

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes. 

Across from you two stood the two drivers, Sebastian kept glancing in your direction and Jenson noticed. He gives the younger driver a smack on the arm, “don’t look at my girlfriend like that.” He teases. 

Seb gives him a smile, taking a swing of his beer. “Who’s the girl with her?” 

Jenson follows Seb’s line of sight, “that’s y/n, her best friend.” The Brawn driver puts two and two together; even if he was currently drunk, he wasn't stupid. 

Sebastian was into you. 

“C’mon!” Jenson shouts, grabbing Sebastian’s arm, “I’ll introduce you two.” 

Sebastian tried to pull away from Jenson but it was too late. The two of them sitting next to you and Lia, you and Sebastian next to each other. “Hi,” you look over at him. 

He smiles, “hi.” 

“Y/n, this is Sebastian Vettel. Seb, this is y/n.” Jenson gives you two a quick introduction and he’s off to the dance floor with Lia, the two of them beyond drunk and shouting the lyrics to the song.  You and Sebastian sit there for a while, looking around a bit before you end up locking eyes. “So uh, what team do you race for ?” You ask, you didn’t even know this man and Jenson left you with him. “If you do race.” 

“I race with RedBull.” He says and you hum, nodding. “So you’re Mark’s teammate?” 

“Most people know him as my teammate.” 

“Oh, that’s cocky of you to say.” 

“It’s true,” he says, flashing you a smile. 

You laugh, shaking your head. “Whatever you say, Sebastian.” 

The two of you ended up sitting there, chatting for the rest of the night over a half full bottle of tequila. When it finally finished, you went looking for Lia and Jenson. 

No surprise that they were outside, making out. “Okay, break it up.” You push Jenson off of her.  He rolls his eyes but quickly smiles when he realizes you were with Sebastian.��

“Let’s take a picture!” Lia shouts, handing her camera off to some random guy standing outside the club. You get pulled by Lia into her side, Jenson to the left of her and Sebastian to your right with you and her squished in the middle. 

“Smile!” The man calls from behind the camera. 

All of you are messy, skin sweaty and sticky, there’s a weird orangish glow from the street light, a bunch of smiles and nothing but good memories behind the photo. 

“I can’t believe how cocky you were.” You nudged him with your shoulder and Seb rolled his eyes, “I was not cocky!” 

“Oh, they know him as my teammate,” you mocked your husband, earning a laugh from him. 

Sebastian doesn’t take you on, he knows you get enjoyment out of teasing him. You had always been that way,  even when you two had just started dating and kept things pretty low key, you still found ways to tease him. 

“Oh my god, look!” You showed him a picture.

Sebastian's hands rested on your butt in the picture, the man holding you up against him with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms over his shoulders as you kissed him. 

It was taken by the Red Bull photographer at the time, just as Seb returned to the garage post championship win. 

Abu Dhabi, 2010. 

Lia and Jenson were still dating, you often joined her for races but you found yourself sneaking away from them. The nights when they offered for you to join them, you did one of two things. 

One, you joined them and headed back to the hotel earlier than they would; or two, you didn’t go at all. 

He had you wrapped around his finger and frankly, he was wrapped around yours. 

You found yourself spending more and more time with the German driver, hanging out with him after races, the two of you hidden away in a hotel room; away from all the nosy reporters and flashing cameras. 

Just the two of you in your little bubble. 

Of course, you and Lia sat in the McLaren garage; Jenson and Lewis now teammates and Sebastian still at Red Bull.

It was the final lap of the final race of the season, you were standing next to Lia, her hand in yours as she searched out for Jenson. The two of you followed out the mechanics and pit crew, climbing up on the fence to watch them cross the line. 

While they were all looking for the silver and red car, your eyes were fixed on one car; the navy blue car that just crossed the line. 

Your heart was pounding out of your chest, the screams and cheers of the RedBull crew just one garage over warmed your heart. Proud didn’t even begin to explain how you felt. 

The sound of Lia screaming pulled you back to reality.

Lewis crossed just behind Sebastian and Jenson followed which gave McLaren a double podium alongside the race winner. Lia pulled you down with her to watch the podium, Jenson blew her a kiss when he stepped up onto the podium and you looked over at your best friend, the girl watched her boyfriend like a love sick puppy; it was adorable. 

You were almost certain you had the same look on your face. You wiped away the tears you felt on your cheeks when you stared up at Sebastian, the smile on his face whilst the German anthem played was like none other. You were proud, he was proud, the team was proud. 

Proud as an understatement. 

Sebastian broke records tonight. 

He is the world champion. 

He’s also now covered in champagne and being hoisted up onto the shoulders of the two McLaren drivers as he does his signature one, have a laugh as he looks out into the thousands of people cheering him on. 

Nothing beats that feeling in that moment. 

Everyone was making their way back to the garages, attempting to pack up as quickly as possible so the party could begin. Lia had run off to congratulate Jenson, you followed behind her and gave him a quick hug. You stopped and congratulated Lewis as well before you stepped out. 

Despite it being nighttime, the heat sticked to your skin as you wandered over to the RedBull garage. You peeked in, the place packed with everyone who worked for them. 

“Y/n!” Mark shouts, hugging you when he sees you. “Hi!” You smiled, hugging the Aussie back. 

“I know you’re not here for me,” he laughs, an arm over your shoulder before he points towards the middle of the crowd. “He’s over there.” 

You smile at Mark, thanking him as you step through the crowd to find the new world champion. 

Sebastian’s back was turned to you, race suit hanging off his hips and you can see how his fireproofs were soaked; champagne or sweat? Probably both. 

You touched his back softly and he turned, he recognized your touch faster than you expected. "You,” he smiles when he turns to face you. His arms wrapping around you. Sebastian picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and the stickiness of his fireproofs cling to your bare legs. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you tell him, a hand on his cheek as you smile at the man. 

“Thank you,” Sebastian tells you, holding you in the middle of the Red Bull garage like you two were the only two in there. The cameras are constantly flashing and neither of you care, Sebastian’s hands rest on your ass as he holds you against him and you lean into your boyfriend. 

He kisses you; it catches you off guard.

Not that he kissed you but that he kissed you there. 

Publicly announcing to the world that you two were a thing.

He lets you down, his arms still wrapped around you and yours wrapped around him. “Champion of the world.” You laughed in disbelief. 

You were 100% sure in Sebastian and his skills but it felt so unreal. 

He nods, smiling. “Champion of the world.” He says, leaning down to kiss you again. 

“I never heard the end of it, they teased me all the time.” Sebastian complained and you laughed. “I know, I told them to tease you.” 

The man rolls his eyes, something he did often in your presence. Not that either of you took it seriously. You were flipping through a few more pictures from another box while Sebastian re-stacked those into the box they came from when you found another picture. 

You show your husband, “I always wondered where that shirt went.” He says, eyeing the RedBull polo you had on in the picture. 

“Forget the shirt, do you remember how pissed Britta was?” 

Sebastian laughs, “yeah but it was worth it.” 

He pulls you into him, kissing you once more. The picture falls beside the two of you onto the floor as he pulls you onto his lap. His hands sliding down to rest on your ass, mimicking the picture on the floor. 

Brazil, 2011. 

Interagos. 

The track where magic happens as you had deemed it.

It's the final race of the season and it’s race day. 

Sebastian wanted to head in extra early, he needed to go over race strategies with his team and you were trying to get him to relax. You two are holding hands as you walk in, cameras flashing and people shouting for him as you pass by. Seb has got on his usual red Bull polo and a pair of shorts, sunglasses pushed up in messy hair. You've got on a little black skirt and one of his RedBull polos with his name on the back and number one in the middle. 

“Seb, baby. Don’t stress yourself out. Your hair will fall out and you’ll look like an egg, but not even a cute one.” You joked and it fell flat. 

Your boyfriend looked worried and you weren’t even sure why. He stopped you in the middle of the paddock, turning to face you. “Do you think I'll win?” 

“Sebastian, I know you’ll win. Do you need me to tell you the stats so you stop asking?” You laughed but his eyes met yours and you sigh softly; there’s security in numbers. 

“You’re currently at 374 points going into this race. Jenson is behind you with 255 points. Regardless of if you win or if you DNF, you will be world champion this year. Don’t stress yourself out.” Your hand rests on your chest, looking at him. 

Sebastian nods, sighing. It’s almost like you can see the tension on his shoulders. “One hundred and nineteen.” You say to him and Seb’s brows furrow. 

“119 -- that’s how many points you have over Jenson.” 

Your boyfriend smiles, pulling you into him. His hand rests on your ass and you just know the stance is like tossing blood to sharks, you can hear the shouting and feel the cameras flashing behind you. Sebastian kisses you, “thank you.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls you a little closer. 

This isn’t the first time they’ve caught you and him like this. You had sorta become the IT couple; that’s what happens when you’re dating the world champion. If the photographers weren’t hassling you two, it was Lewis and Jenson with their girlfriends. 

You and Sebastian had become quite the staple couple in the paddock, always together. Not that you clung to him, Seb always hid from press duty by hanging out with you. 

He’d stop what he was doing to pass by just to get a kiss from you.

Sebastian was cheesy like that. 

The hand on your ass pulls you even close, the skirt hitching up a little too high to be suitable for work. Nothing except for your thigh was exposed but imagine the scandal it would be. 

Or it had already become. 

You and Sebastian didn’t have a care in the world, he was a shoo in for the championship and he did win that year. Despite his teammate, Mark, winning the race, Sebastian was far enough ahead that he won regardless. 

It wasn't until after that Britta caught wind of the scandalous picture going around. 

She gave you both a lecture about behaving yourselves in the paddock to which Seb just laughed and you nodded along, trying to listen to the woman but between all the championship press, the picture got lost and all was well in the world. 

You get up and Seb’s eyes follow you, “where are you going?” He asks, watching as you sit in front of a storage container you pulled out of the closet. 

“I think I still have that shirt, I know I saw it somewhere.” 

Digging through the container, you find the shirt and pull it out. You hold it up against yourself. “I don’t think it’ll fit now but I knew I had it.”  

Sebastian smiles and you two tumble through a few more boxes on your own. You reach into the container and pull out something that feels like papers. You thought it was more photos you hadn't found albums for but turns out it wasn’t. 

In fact, it was a manual for a toaster oven. 

“What is that?” Sebastian calls, you toss it over to him. 

“A toaster oven?” He reads the pamphlet, flipping through it. “Why do we have this?” 

You try to think of how that ended up in the storage container and it finally pops into your head. 

Monaco, 2012. 

"Where should I put this?” He asks, carrying in a box into the kitchen. 

You and Sebastian have just moved into your first place together. It was day 6 of unpacking because you two kept stopping because you were either too lazy and couldn’t be bothered or Sebastian’s wandering hands caused you two to end up in bed. 

Sebastian holds up the box to show you, “that’s not mine.” You tell him, brows furrowed. 

“It’s not mine either.” He says, “why would I own..” he peeks over the box to read it, “a toaster oven?” 

You notice an envelope taped onto the side when Seb puts the box down. You pull it off and open the envelope. There’s a card with a note inside of it. 

‘Woman at the store said this was a good thing to get, so enjoy it! 

xo, JB and Lia.’ 

“That’s the most random thing I've ever gotten as a gift. We already have a toaster,” you tell Sebastian, showing him the card. 

Sebastian was already tinkering with it, plugging it in as he unwrapped the plastic around it. “How does it work?” He asks you, opening the little door. 

“I’d assume it's just a toaster but like.. oven style? I don’t know, let me see.” You check through the box for a pamphlet. 

Sebastian doesn’t wait. He sticks a bagel in there and hits 4 different settings whilst you read over the pages of the pamphlet. The toaster oven starts to smoke and the kitchen smells like burnt bread. 

“Seb!” You laughed, opening the window whilst fanning the thing. Sebastian unplug the toaster oven and opens the little door. The bagel was now black and hard like a rock. 

He holds up the bagel, it clicks in his brain that it’s hot and the circular piece of bread falls to the floor. “Hot!” He flings his hand around and you chuckle, grabbing his hand and blowing on it before kissing it. 

“Better?” You ask and the man puckers up, leaning towards you. Rolling your eyes, you give your boyfriend a kiss. 

Sebastian smiles, satisfied. “Better, though I don’t think we can eat the bagel.” 

“Jense and Lia sent us a toaster oven when we moved into our first place,” you remind him. His mouth forms an O, tossing the manual into another box as you rejoin him by his side. You lean into your husband’s side, his arm comes around to rest over your shoulders. 

You were a picture hoarder, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of photos so they all sat in your basement. There had to be thousands of pictures spanning over the last 15 years. 

There’s a few stacks of pictures from races and what not, some from his championships and from other races as well. From your vacations to the kids’ first day at school, family trips, random pictures taken throughout the house. Not all of them were taken by you. The photographers always gave you a big stack of pictures at the end of the season so you kept them all. You couldn’t bare to sort through them and get rid of some. 

Sebastian was always looking forward but you loved to look back.  

There’s one in particular that caught his eye. “I didn’t know you had a copy of this,” he shows you the picture. You had the same one framed in your bedroom; Sebastian was leant over and kissing your stomach, your hand on his cheek and you smiling at him. 

Germany, 2013. 

Sebastian’s home race, you were beyond nervous. Not like it was any different than before. 

His focus was on winning. 

It always was. 

“Are you okay?” Mark rests a hand on his back when he finds you at the back of the garage. You glance over your shoulder, looking back at the man. “Fine, just nervous.” 

“He’ll be fine. Well he won’t be.. when I win.” Mark says and you laugh, “okay Mark, whatever you say.” 

Sebastian was walking back into the garage when Mark lets you go, Seb eyeing the two of you for a moment as you walk over. Your boyfriend wraps an arm around you, pulling you against him. He was looking behind you and at Mark and you smack his arm softly, the man looking at you now. 

“What?” He asks. 

“I have to tell you something.” You whisper to him and Seb pulls you off to the side of the garage, the two of you hidden away by a wall. Sebastian looks at you, “what’s up baby?” 

You had to laugh at the phrase, the word making you giggle. 

Seb eyes you, “what?” 

You blurt it out, there was no other way to say it. “I’m pregnant.” 

Sebastian was quiet, your eyes fixed on his face, trying to read for any sort of reaction. Finally he says, “you are?” 

You nod, looking at him, still waiting for a reaction. Sebastian picks you up and spins you around, your arms over his shoulders as you laugh, the man putting you down before pulling you into a kiss. 

A hand rests on his cheek, “I take it that you’re happy ?” 

“So happy.” He says, his forehead rests against yours. 

It was still early, you decide to keep it to yourself for the time being. You were only a month along so there was no need to make a big deal yet. “Be careful, okay?” You tell him, kissing him. 

“Always.” 

You give him a hug, wishing him good luck before he walks off to get ready for his race. You were settling in beside the mechanics when Britta came looking for you. “What’s wrong?” You ask her, she shakes her head. 

“Nothing, he’s asking for you.” 

You follow her to the grid, your boyfriend already in the car when you got there. You bend down, looking at your boyfriend. “What’s wrong love?” 

Sebastian pats the side of his helmet, they were minutes away from lights out and  your boyfriend was asking for a kiss. You laugh, leaning over to kiss the side of his helmet where his cheek would be. 

There’s a little red kiss mark on the side of his helmet and you pat his head, Seb reaches up and gives your hand a squeeze before letting you go. 

You and Britta get back to the garage just in time for lights out. Lewis was on pole with Seb in P2 and Mark in P3. Your fingers were crossed hoping your boyfriend can fight his way into P1 over the course of the 60 laps. 

Within the first corner, Sebastian was able to gain the lead and hold it for the entirety of the race, coming across the checkered flag victorious. 

Everyone was pushed up against the gate, looking up at the German driver on the podium, the smile on his face shines brighter than the sun; nothing beats winning his home race.

The man winked at you, tipping the champagne bottle in the direction of the team before taking a swing. 

Once everyone returned to the garage, your boyfriend found you the moment he got back. You were by the pit wall, talking to Christian when he hugged you from behind, swinging you around. His skin sticky and wet, the race suit soaking the back of your shirt. 

“Congratulations, baby.” You smile, turning to face him when he puts you down. 

At this point, you two are in the middle of the pit line, his hands resting on your lower back when he leans down and kisses your stomach. 

Of course, the photographers around were eating this up. Sebastian kissing your stomach points towards one thing and one thing only; you were expecting.

“Ted said that’s when he knew we were in love.” You tell Seb, looking at the picture. 

Sebastian laughs, “he told me the same thing. Said before was puppy love and this was real. Having a kid always makes things real.” 

“Oh so we were fake before?” You joked and Seb rolled his eyes, “that was a terrible joke.” 

“You’re terrible at jokes, you started telling dad jokes before I was even pregnant!” 

“Whatever.” 

There’s a few more pictures from that race in the stack, you come across a picture of him waiting in the garage after practice. You studied the pattern on the matte black helmet that sat on top of his head like a mushroom from Mario. The gold ran along the sides and the top, the RedBull insignia stood out against the black and gold in a shimmery red. There’s a single red and black stripe across the top, blended in with the gold to make up the German flag; something Sebastian almost always worked into his helmet designs. 

“Do you still have this one?” You ask your husband, showing him the picture. 

Sebastian gets up and pulls a few more boxes from the closet you had, opening a few before he pulls out a large dust bag, you see the smile on his face when he peeks into the bag. 

He pulls out the black and gold helmet, showing you. “It’s one of my favourites.” 

“Mine too.” 

Sebastian sets the helmet down on the table, looking back into the box before pulling out something. “Is this yours?” He holds up the blue dress, holding it against himself. 

“Looks like it’d fit you.” You smile, earning a chuckle from him. “Yeah, says maternity on the tag.” 

You try to think back to when you would have worn that and it pops into your head, making you laugh out loud. 

“What?” Your husband looks at you, confused as to why you’re laughing by yourself. 

You take a breath, regaining your composure. “We went to headquarters after the last race, when I was pregnant with Meg, remember ?” 

Sebastian tosses the dress at you. “You gave me a heart attack that day.” 

“Please, I was preparing you for fatherhood.” 

England 2013.

Today you were officially 26 weeks pregnant, which was roughly around  6 months. You were under strict orders by your OB that you are not allowed to fly anymore. So the flight back to England would be the last for the next little while. 

You had begged your OB to give you the clearance to join Sebastian for the last race of the season and she did; you joined him for the Brazilian Grand Prix and you watched him win his 4th championship. 

Nothing made you more proud than seeing him up on the podium. 

After the stop in England for a few days, Sebastian would be driving you two to Paris for a few days of relaxation before he drives you two back to Monaco to wait for the birth of your baby girl. It was a seven hour drive to Paris from England and then another nine hours from Paris to Monaco. Your mother-in-law and OB tried to talk you into staying in England and having the baby there but you were dead set on having the baby in Monaco like intended. 

Sebastian gave in to you because you had him wrapped around your finger. 

He held your hand as you two walked into the building, they were doing a little thing to thank the team and to show off the new trophies they brought home over the season. 

“Oh good, you’re here!” Britta calls, walking over. 

“Sebastian, you’re needed in the head office. Y/n, come with me.” The woman was already pulling you away from your boyfriend and you glanced over your shoulder at him, he just smiled and waved you off. 

The team had put together a little basket for the baby; Well wishes attached to the baby clothing in the basket. Shirts, shorts, sweaters, shoes, hats, all in various sizes and the bull embroidered into all of them with different variations of the RedBull logo. 

You thank the team, walking around the building with Britta for a bit as she showed you some of the things in the front foyer. You were drinking some water and a bit of it spilt on the floor when you cracked the bottle open, the water splattered on your dress but you didn’t bother drying it out because it was water, it’d dry itself out.  

“Babe!” Sebastian shouts, running towards you and you turn to face the man, confused as to why he looked so full of concern. Christian was right behind him when Sebastian reached for you and you were really confused now. 

You glance between the men and Britta, “what?” 

“Did you water break? Do we need to go?” Sebastian asks, looking down at the floor and your dress. 

You follow his line of sight and put two and two together. “Oh!” You laughed, Britta realized what he was freaked about and started laughing. 

“I spilled some water, it’s fine.” You wave him off. Christian peeks out from behind Seb, “so just to be clear, you’re not in labour ?” 

“No, I'm not.” You laughed. 

“God, both you and Christian were mortified, so worried that you didn’t let me do anything for the rest of the afternoon.” 

“We were just worried,” he pushes some of the boxes into the closet again. “It's possible to go into labour that early.” He tells you. 

“Possible but unlikely.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes, “that’s why Christian said you aren’t allowed to visit while you’re pregnant anymore.” 

You huff, arms folded across your chest as you looked at the man across the room. “I didn’t get pregnant for the rest of your RedBull days though.” 

“Surely you remember the next time you got pregnant,” he says, making his way over to you. The twinkle of mischief in his eyes says that he fully well remembers how you ended up pregnant the second time. 

“Yeah, whose fault was that?” 

Sebastian drops down next to you, pulling you by the chin to look at him. “Mine.” 

“Glad you know.” 

Hawaii, 2018. 

Things were good in terms of the championship. Sebastian was second in the standings going into the break and you knew he needed a break, physically and mentally. 

He had a habit of being hard on himself but he was always laughing and smiling, no one ever noticed that something was off. You were his wife, you knew him like the back of your hand. You talked him into taking a little vacation, just the two of you. 

Megan was with your parents while you two spent a week in the sun, trying to relax and decompress.

It had been the last three days just rolling around in bed. Since you two have checked in, you've barely left the room to eat, even then it was just going to the door to get the room service. It had been nothing but rolling around in bed, room service and piles of clothes scattered throughout the room; you weren't even sure why you bothered to get dressed at this point. 

“C’mon,” you groan, pulling your husband by the arm. “Let’s go to the beach.” 

Sebastian sits up, pulling you to him. You’re standing between his legs as you look down at him and you feel his hands on your ass, pinching the exposed flesh. The little green bikini didn’t cover much, not that he minded. 

“We only have a few days left, we should do something other than have sex, Sebastian.” 

“Why? The sex is great.” He pats your ass, making you roll your eyes. 

“Sebastian, c’mon. Just a few hours.” You pull away from him but he grabs your hand, and you’re right back where you were moments ago. 

“Once more,” he mumbles against your stomach, kissing up to your chest. Your hand tangled in his short blonde curls as you pulled his head back so you could look at him. “Then we can go.” He says, smiling. 

He was so handsome, he knew you were wrapped around his finger. 

“Fine,” you sigh, letting him pull you into bed again, his hands making quick work of the strings on your bikini. “Just once more.” You tell him, your tone is serious. 

Sebastian nods, “just once more.” 

“It’s late,” you say, getting up. “We’ll clean up tomorrow.” Your hand stretches out for his and he gets up, the two of you making your way up the stairs and onto the first floor before making one more check of the house, double checking all the doors and windows are locked. 

Sebastian’s voice catches your attention as you head up the stairs towards the bedroom. 

“I wish I could’ve done more, with Ferrari.” He says, following you up the stairs and you hum. 

You knew your husband’s feelings towards the red team, it broke your heart to think about how they made him feel about himself. 

Like he had failed. 

“If I had won a championship with them-” “You have four, Seb.” You remind him before he gets the chance to spiral. 

“I know,” he sighs, “I had set out to win one with him and I feel like I failed. I should have won.” 

“You didn’t fail, Sebastian.” You turn on the step to face your husband, holding his face in your hands. “They failed you if anything.” 

The sadness on his face makes you want to light a match and toss it at the factory but you hold back the urge to say the bitter words that come to mind. 

“You are a four time world champion, Sebastian. Things don’t always go to plan but you have a legacy, you left behind a mark that will always be there, regardless of how it got there. I will always support you and always love you but don’t you dare, even for a second, think you failed; because you never did.” 

Sebastian kisses the palm of your hand, “thank you, for everything.” 

“No need to thank me, baby.” 

You two make it upstairs and Seb checks on the girls while you head into the bedroom. You were changing when your eyes caught the green frame hung on your bedroom wall. 

There’s a collage of pictures in the large green frame from the first official Aston Martin pre season photoshoot. 

England, 2020. 

You watched as your husband posed for the camera, both you and Britta holding back laughter from how uncomfortable Sebastian looked. 

He was sitting on a chair in his race suit, foot propped up on a tyre. “Mrs. V,” the photographer calls, “go and join him.” 

You shook your head, “no, no. I’m good.” 

“Oh c’mon. I’ll send these to you plus, I've got some time to kill until Lance gets here.” He nods towards Seb and you give in after Britta nudges you off to him. 

How ironic that you just so happened to wear a green sundress that morning.

“Where do you want me?” You ask, looking at the photographer. “Uh - try the tyre. If it's uncomfortable, we can move.” 

Sebastian moves his foot and you sit on the tyre, fixing your dress before your husband leans in his seat to rest his chin on your shoulder, your hand coming up to rest on his cheek. The two of you are smiling and the camera flashes a few times. 

“Give us a kiss!” The photographer shouts and you laugh, Sebastian shakes his head. “Come on! It’ll be cute!” He shouts from behind the camera and Sebastian looks at you, waiting for your go ahead. You smile and he takes it a yes. 

He pulls the hat he had on, off before leaning in to kiss you but at the last second, just as his lips meet yours, he holds the hat up and blocks the two of you from the camera. 

You can hear the photographer laugh and your eyes meet Seb’s. “I love you.” He whispers. “I love you.” You smile. 

Lance and Sara arrive a few moments later and the photographer gets a few group shots. You and Sara lean over your boyfriend and husband’s shoulders, one of the 4 of you standing together, and he even manages to talk Lance and Seb into giving you two their race suits for a photo, posing back to back, Charlie’s angels’ style. 

Seb’s hand touches your back as he walks in and you smile at him, joining him in bed. He looks over at you when he gets into bed with you. 

“Do you think I did the right thing?” He asks, ever so cryptic. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Retirement; did I do the right thing?” 

Sebastian had announced his retirement the weekend before summer break and you supported him 110%. You knew he had been thinking about it since the end of his Ferrari days. 

“You’re the only one that can answer that question.” You tell him and he hums, looking at you. You take that as your chance to go on; “but I know you love this sport. It’s given you so much and you put everything into becoming the driver you are and have always been. You are formidable, my love.” 

Sebastian lived and breathed racing. It was in his blood, his DNA; it’s the way he was wired. It meant everything to him and you knew that. 

Anything he wanted to do, anything he set his mind to, you stood by him and supported him as much as humanly possible. 

The retirement decision was weighing heavy on him. You knew his feelings once he joined Aston Martin. He loved the team, they gave him his happiness back, he was at ease. 

Sebastian had always looked towards the future then looking back and unlike you, he knew when it was time to go. The time was now. 

He felt like he needed to step aside to make room for other drivers, he had gotten 15 amazing years from racing, and while it was his whole life, life also keeps moving regardless of what you want. There was more than just racing in his life now; he had a wife, kids, a family. They deserved the love and focus he put into racing. 

There was more to life, and that he was missing out on you and kids’ lives by being away so much.

Of course he will always be a champion to you, and to millions of people out there. 

“It’s time.” He says softly, reaching over to hold your hand. “My life is here.” 

You smile, nodding. Sebastian chuckles, his own internal dialogue making him laugh. “Maybe I'll make a comeback in a few years, when I get bored; like Michael or Kimi, or Fernando.” 

“Maybe you could take Christian up on that offer to rejoin RedBull hm?” You laughed. 

“You'll be the first one I talk to if I do it.” He says, smiling at you. 

Nudging him with your shoulder, you say; “the car’s a fricking rocket ship, you’d definitely win number five.” 

“Five championships for driver number five does have a nice ring, doesn’t it?” 

“It does.” You smile, leaning over to kiss your husband. 

----

taglist: @diorleclerc​ @timetoracewrites​ @lickmeleclerc​ @halsteadssneakylink​ @dragon-of-winterfell​ @benedictscanvas​ @elisaa-shelby​ @hnmaga-blog​ @czechoslovakiandisco​ @dr3lover​ @troybolton14 @Lovingroscoee @compulsiveshit​ @somanyfandomsbruh​  @damnyoulifee​ @barzysreputation​ @vickyofalltrades @yeolsbubbles​ @barzysreputation​ @thybulleric​ @valkyrie418​ @ricsaigaslec​ @idkiwantchocolatee​  @sessgjarg @molliemoo3​ @bisexual-desi​ @sunf1owerrq​ @alwaysclassyeagle​

[moxfirefly]

I have to thank @southernblossoms for this one, she got evil!Leo in my brain and he hasn’t left ever since.

TW: Violence, Gore, Blood, NSFW content below

Rated Explicit (18+ years)

“She said I'm looking like a bad man, smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more, no more

I said I'm just tired”

Leonardo always knew there was an inch inside of him that was darkness.

If left alone and unchecked, it would spread. Fester like some disease and he feared that someday he’d allow it to course through his body so freely.

And let it win.

It seemed today would be that unfortunate day. A night like any other, just more bloodshed than necessary. But hey, who said they should go and kill his father? Torture him to such an extent and string up his body for his brothers and him to find.

In that very moment that inch had grown in his soul to a degree that it blinded him. All he knew was to destroy, to hurt and erase those who had done this. He felt so cold, hands cupping his fathers motionless bloodied feet, the gentle tapping of blood and the cries of his brothers echoing in his ears.

So when Leo stood, bloodied (not bathed in his own), holding the head of the monster responsible, how could he regain peace? This had only brought a momentary second of reprieve and it was so fleeting. He looked into Shredder’s lifeless eyes, numbness spreading but a need that had started out as an inch. A need to kill everyone who had been part of this, directly or indirectly.

They all deserved so much worse.

They all deserved death.

Slow and torturous.

He had disappeared after that night. His brothers knew that this was the end of their leader, of their beloved brother who wanted to believe that good in this world could prevail.

For them they never imagined that Leo would just let the darkness take hold of him, nestle him with such a loving embrace. For him to embrace it right back felt justified, for his brothers it painted the gory picture of things to come.

They never expected to meet him in the opposition. To view him as foe and not family. Leonardo had quickly taken hold of the scum of the earth. He had molded the darkness to serve him.

Raphael thought Shredder was their worst enemy.

He never expected to have Leo claim that spot in a matter of months.

The Foot had fallen under his ruling, and he wasted no time in setting examples, and the bloody path those examples left behind never seized to churn the brothers stomachs.

There was no means of bringing him back, and perhaps it’s for the better.

Because whatever has eaten away inside of Leonardo cannot simply be flushed out of his body, nor ripped from his very soul. The body counts too high by now as he strays further and further away from what he was taught.

From what his father taught him...

_______________

You run with the unsavories. An eat or be eaten mentality that has caused you to survive years and years of gang wars and mutant freaks. Not like you’d throw about that last bit, much less when you’re standing single file, close to pissing yourself because he’s there.

And Christ he’s a sight to behold.

A rumor, a legend, a monster.

You tell him you’ve got valuable info, you know where to follow the trail that’ll lead to success. Even when your partner tries to push his chin up in front of Leonardo, you’re already wincing at what his demise will be shaped in.

Leo really loves cutting heads off.

A strong emphasis on loves.

You swallow, eyes flying anywhere but the rapidly growing puddle of blood that approaches your feet. Even then, your eyes stray towards the newest leader of the Foot, Leo punctures his katana into the head, a crude skewer as he lifts it and examines the severed body part as if answers lie in the gush of blood that falls. Those dark blue eyes move on you, you swallow.

He walks over to you, blade in hand, blood tap tapping onto the ground “Your information” Leo’s voice is weightless, bored almost. You motion towards your pocket, the crumpled up note with a poorly drawn map the key to your salvation. Leo reaches his hand in and you’re still, stiff and frightened by the intrusive touch and his proximity.

He pulls the note out and examines, the ghastly expression of horror on the decapitated head so close you can smell the coppery scent. “Can you get more of this? The coordinantes?” You crane your neck to look at him, his stature imposing. “Yeah, I’m your girl for that shit, swear on it” He flicks the blade and the sound of the head rolling makes your stomach flip flop along with it.

You feel the tip of a bloodied katana on your chin.

“Don’t make me cut off such a pretty head, hm?” You want to nod but the blade digs and Leo’s mouth twitches in something akin to a smirk. The small cut to your chin stings, but you wonder why other parts of you vibrate.

The danger, the adrenaline, Leonardo.

_____________

Your next meeting doesn’t quell your nervousness. Leonardo is an impressive sight as always and it’s imposible to ignore that maybe you won’t make it out alive every time you both meet. Unless proven useful, which you take to heart. You bring all sorts of information, names, rumors, possible gangs wanting to take him on, the police. Any word you heard in regards to him.

“It’s possible they might try to meet you half way, catch you off guard” The warehouse is chilly, that fall weather starting to hit but Leo’s unfazed, the black tails of his mask move with the gust of winds. “Stupid of them to assume that” The second floor of the warehouse seems to be his own, leaving the rest of the crew bellow. He sits on the windowsill, cloth running up his katana, it had been bloody when you were brought in.

“I’m just repeating what I heard, I’m sure you’re more than adept to take them on” You stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket, you’d been frisked not like you were stupid enough to bring a weapon to this.

But then again, the more he polished that sword, the more you wished you had something.

“What else have you heard? Any word on Karai?” The woman in question had appeared to have disappeared into thin air after Shredder’s death and Leo taking command of the Foot soldiers. Wether she planned to reclaim what was hers or if she had simply quit was beyond you and anybody else. “Nothing on her, she might’ve skipped town or the country” You offered, eyes following the sword as Leo placed it on a nearby table.

“She strike you as the type? A coward?” He walked over towards you, his expression so eerily unreadable.

Yet, your eyes wandered over him. Over muscle and scales. Overs scars and bruises. That illogical part of your brain making you wonder and fantasize, because fear could be exciting.

There was something exciting about Leonardo.

“Well?” He was in front of you, looking down at you. It hits you how minuscule you must look to him.

“Probably plotting? You did murder her dad” You find his eyes, you swallow.

“Well he murdered mine. Eye for an eye...” He spoke gently almost.

“Makes the whole world go blind” You finished for him, and maybe that was stepping on a line but you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch up. For a brief second you catch his eyes scan yours, move across your face and settle at your lips.

Passed your neck, towards your breasts.

He turns around and grabs his sword.

“One week, find more info on her, your pay is downstairs” You’re dismissed and before you process anything a Foot soldier is ushering you downstairs and shoving an envelope in your hands.

That night you dream about what your lips might feel like against reptilian scales.

—————————

Karai’s whereabouts are practically unheard off. If there was a trail it had run cold months back and judging from the word of mouth being passed around there wasn’t anything sustainable. You dig up anything and everybody. Every dirt bag with an agenda, ex Foot soldiers, opposing gangs, the mob and just about anybody you have in your radar.

It yields nothing.

You can’t return to Leo with nothing.

Rubbing a hand across your tired face, you make your way through the back alleys of the city. Your one week was coming up and all you had were weak possibilities and baseless assumptions. In your line of business enough information to create doubt can go a long way, but this was conspiracy levels bad.

So you thought and you thought quick.

Pulling out your phone you called him first. Perhaps a dumb move but at the same time you figured it showed that you were trying. You asked if the two of you could meet, the line briefly went quiet before your text tone startled you. He hung up and you were met with the address of a building in Brooklyn and to go up to the roof.

To say you were scared was to put it lightly.

You were shitting yourself.

The roof of the building had a green house which seemed unused but it looked like it was being kept up with the vegetation still green and alive. Your hand made for the door knob but something you could only name as a sixth sense made you freeze.

Leo was there, the shift in the atmosphere was impossible to deny. Your turned and blinked.

Wherever he had been, it must’ve been worse. There was blood on him, a fresh gash by his arm and the steady drip drip of blood hitting the concrete. “Jesus are you...?” You knew he was ok, but whomever had been on the receiving end of this had it by far much worse.

“Inside, go inside” He motioned for the green house and you did. Your eyes scanned around hoping to find something to help with. There was a nest of sorts in a corner, several blankets and cushions, a table and a chair amidst the plants. You found what you were looking for near the bonsais, a shelf with a box of first aid. Leo went towards a counter with a basin and a jar of water, he went about cleaning the gash on his arm.

You approached him with the box of first aid, blue eyes were cautious as you took out antiseptic and gauze. Leo had turned to face you, giving you more room to work on his arm as you bandaged it. “You alright?” Your voice held hesitation, Leo’s questioning gaze turned to amusement. “I’m fine, what I want to know is why you wanted to meet” You finished bandaging him and took a step back.

Pick your words wisely, you thought with a slight shutter.

“Listen I’ve spoken with any and everyone who might have any clue but Karai is off the radar”Swallowing a lump in your throat you shrugged off your jacket, worry manifesting in heat. “I know this isn’t what you wanted and I’m really fucking good at my job but this bitch is either underground or who knows! Dead for all I know!” The exasperation and worry was clear as day, he either took this the right way or the wrong way.

Wrong way being you end up pushed off this very building, at best ironically enough.

Leo swallowed the information, clearly bouncing it around his head. The dry specks of blood scattered across his green flesh. An odd silence fell amongst you both and even when he rose in all his imposing glory you kept your eyes focused on him. Getting a read on that cold calculated gaze of his was hard enough.

Your throat feels painfully dry once he has you backed up against the wall. Something about dying alone with not even an audience to witness it didn’t sit too right with you.

But then again, Leo’s large hand gripped your neck, nothing too tight but enough to alert you to its presence. Those blue eyes looked haunted but just beneath that laid something you couldn’t just place your finger on. The tips of his fingers lightly caressed you, one of them fascinated with your quickened pulse. You can’t blink, unsure what may happen and when he dips down your adrenaline makes you flinch.

Leo halts his movement, his blood feels like it’s pumping loudly enough for you to hear. Wide eyed you lean up instead and ghost your lips against his, Leo sighs through his nostrils and it stays that way. A pull but not enough of a push because there’s still fear in your blood and a hesitation that you can’t put a name to from Leonardo.

Your phone going off startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin and to a fraction of your dismay Leo takes a step away. One of your contacts name flashed on the screen which meant there could still be some good news. Your turned away to speak, pulling a marker from your pocket you write down some information on your forearm. It’s a quick conversation and once done you turn to see Leo putting together his gear again.

You bit your lip, whatever was about to happen would just have to take a back seat. ‘Fucking coward’ you can’t help but think about yourself.

“One of my guys says he might have it on good authority that Karai is still here” You watch him turn his head to listen, even if he’s got his back/shell to you. “Well?” He pushes while adjusting his swords.

“He says she might’ve just met up with...with one of your brothers” Tense doesn’t even begin to explain what his body did, the mear mention of his family was a sore subject and you had been warned to not even attempt to open that can of worms. Swallowing and feeling your throat stick from how dry it felt you see him pull out a key and toss it to you. “Send me that address, you’ll get your money at the warehouse” You barely manage to catch the key to the greenhouse, but still you raise a brow at the offering.

“Come back here when you’re ready” Is all he says about it, confusion is painted on your face but when he moved to leave he takes a moment to hold your chin. “Don’t make me regret this” He says and before you can attempt to ask he’s gone.

You stay there, twenty minutes or so in nothing but your thoughts and his words swimming around your mind.

Feeling heat between your legs and a lick of frustration consuming you.

_____________

Two weeks you contemplate the key in your pocket.

Two weeks you let your thumb hover over his number but never press down.

For two weeks you find your pillow between your legs, trying to reach the sensation he managed with just his body close to yours.

But nothing.

It’s not enough.

New York is covered in rain as you make your way through the sea of people. Regardless of the many umbrellas you still get soaked and by the time you’re up on that roof, hand digging out the key to the green house you’re drenched.

Inside you shake off the excess and remove your jacket. The cold hits you and you can’t help but feel silly that you’re here, maybe this is his way of taking you out, you’re not needed anymore by now you assume.

You turn on the few lanterns that are scattered through the room. Kicking off your boots you rub your arms and shiver, flesh breaking out into goosebumps as the door creaks open once more.

Leo’s equally drenched when he steps through, the black tails of his mask sticking to him. The two of you just stare at one another, steady drips of water and the rain outside picking up more strengh.

Carefully you watch him begin take apart his gear, leaving his katanas by the door. He’s trying to keep your apprehension at low levels, his steps slow and soft. You let your arms fall to your sides and as your heart tries to hammer out of your chest you don’t flinch this time, even as his hands go for the hem of your long sleeve. You take a deep breath as his eyes wander across your now exposed flesh. The fascination goes straight to your core, feeling yourself warm up as his hands rest on your stomach.

With trembling hands you unbutton your jeans and step out of them and the inhale Leo takes as he closes his eyes makes you reach for him. He holds you against him and sighs, large frame shuddering at the feel of your skin against his reptilian one. He buries his snout against your neck, breathing harder as his hands run all over your back and rear. Leo grips and kneads the flesh and a groan escapes against your ear that makes your wrap your arms around his neck. He feels the softness of your breasts against his chest, he’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t been dreaming about them for months now.

You can’t wrap your head around it but he feels just as you fantasized about him. The roughness of his flesh, the edges of his shell and god his teeth nip at your neck with a growl. Wiggling out of his hold you start to undo whatever else needs to be taken off and Leo can’t help but smirk at your frenzied movements. He allows you to undress him, he’s gutted when your hands land on his waist as you start to kneel before him.

“No, no, kiss me first” He cups your face and presses his mouth against yours and that’s it, you’re done for, you’re hooked and can’t go back now. His kiss is possessive, forceful and it drowns every thought in your brain.

You pressed against one of the tables with the many Bonsais when Leo’a tongue slithers into your awaiting mouth. He sits you down on the table and nudges your legs apart to fit himself in between them, you crane your neck up losing yourself in his kiss. He can taste rain water, feels the sweat and rain mingle on your skin. God he wants to run his tongue all over you, eat you whole if he could.

It feels like forever when he pulls away, reluctance in his body. Blue eyes search into your e/c eyes, he wants to see something maybe your fear so he denies himself falling into this rabbit hole. Your hands press against his plastron and gently you run your nails down the hard plates, you shake your head fascinated by the texture. He’s rough but strong, a marvel of a species.

With some difficulty you managed to push your underwear off and spread yourself again for his viewing pleasure. “I want you,” You nodded, eyes falling to the hard length between his legs. Leo wraps a large hand around it and pumps slowly, body shivering at the sensation. “God I fucking want you so bad” You feel him come back to you, mouth on yours in yet another harsh kiss.

The tip of his cock nudges against your wet heat and he bites your lip at the sensation. Leo pushes into you so frustratingly slow, even as his girth stretches you to a point you’ve never been before. You want him inside of you now, and Leo couldn’t agree more. He bottoms out inside of you with a lengthy groan, head thrown back in ecstasy. “You feel... so fucking good” He growls out through gritted teeth, hips picking up speed as you wantonly take him in. You press your lips to his chest and moan with each slow but pronounced thrust of his hips.

His hand finds itself at the back of your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair to keep your gaze on his. The slight tug burns so good and you can’t help but keep your pleasure filled gaze on his own. Lips parted you let him rock into you steadily until his thrust start to slam into you. The sensation spreads all over your body, little shocks of pleasure rocking your body.

“Mine, you’re going to be mine and only mine” He voices lowly, a threat laced in his passion. You’re too far gone to speak, nodding aimlessly at his every word, moans falling from your lips. “Nobody will own you like I do, nobody will touch you, Y/N? You understand? I’m making you mine” He pressed his forehead to yours, lost in this feeling.

“Fuck yes, yours, I’m gonna be all yours” You lick his lips and when he reaches a hand between both your bodies your mind goes blank. A vicious shudder overtakes you as you muffle a scream against his jaw. He fills you up so good and so warm with a strange vibration that sounds like an endless growl. Each rope he pumps into you making his eyes roll back. You’re shattered against, limp and raw throat from the scream that leaves your mouth.

He watches your come down, hand against your cheek, thumb running across your lips. When he pulls out just enough to watch his essence cascade out of your pretty little hole, he pumps himself back into you. His eyes say it all, from here on out whatever your life was up to this point is over and done with. Leo nuzzles you still lazily pumping himself in you, blissful to the little tremors your cunt produces around his member making him harden once again. Picking you up, bodies still joined, he makes his way to the nest of blankets on the floor.

You hold onto him, all you can do is hold onto him.

____________

It’s rather odd to be in this position. With an entire year that’s passed it never seems to feel normal, not that you’re complaining though.

Being in a position of power by proxy has its fucking fun rewards.

For example nobody in this city will ever contemplate taking you out. Unless they want a very pissed off Foot Leader to set fire to the city and maybe even the world. From opposite points to now standing at his side. No one is to address you as below them, or touch you or let alone breath the same air you do.

You can still hear the bones that were cracked when one particularly unruly Foot soldier made snide comment about you. Each crack of the mans arm being slowly twisted until his arm broke still rang in your ears to this day. Leo hadn’t flinched, hadn’t even scowled even as the twist turned to pulling the limb off.

He did in fact fuck you hard against the glass windows of the hotel suite he had you both in. The copper scent lingering on his scales, but enraptured with the heat enveloping his cock.

With the city at war everyone had began to run amok to do their own barbaric things. Each part of the city divided between gangs, mobs, mutants, police and civilians. You were out on active Foot duties, you were still free to do as you pleased but with protection and Leo demanded your whereabouts on the hour due to possibilities of abduction.

He knew you were a weakness.

But did he give a shit? Of course not. Let them try, he hasn’t needed an excuse for his tyrannical acts thus far, but if harm did ever befall you, you only wished you could witness what his methods would be to exact his revenge.

And he was so familiar with revenge after all.

You admire yourself in the full length mirror, examining the body that training under Leo has provided you. The mutant terrapin in question comes up from behind you and wraps his strong sculpted arms around your waist. You can’t help but smirk as he rest his chin a top your head. “We’re heading out in half an hour” He mumbles against your hair, enjoying the scent. You watch through the mirror as his hands rub up and cup your breast, with a sigh you rest against his strong build. “What’s on the agenda tonight? Purple dragons?” You feel him shake his head, fingers dipping inside the cups of your bra. “Mob,” Is his sole reply.

You bite your lip, gripping his wrists. “We’ll be late” You try to muffle a moan as he tweaks a nipple, he grinds against your backside. “I’m killing them regardless, and I much rather have the scent of your cunt on my hands while I listen to their boring excuses for parley” Your knees buckled when you felt his hand slither inside your underwear, finger already parting your lips and humming as he feels how wet you already are.

You feel his other hand wrap around your neck, keeping you upright and your gaze on the mirror as his finger dips into your welcoming heat.

He engulfs your every thought, every sensation; and what’s the fate of the world when you’ve got him? He chose you just as much as you chose him. You’ve never considered yourself good, scumbag street rat who just happened to make a living amongst the other scumbags. But this? With Leonardo and the trail of bloodied heads he’s left behind, it’s hard not to be excited to see gasoline be poured on the city. He trails his lips to the shell of your ear and you can’t help but grin.

“Mine” He says.

Burn everything.

[draslihanxfahri-bailey]

In spite of a handful of worries and concerns that have coursed through her veins like blood concerning the building, there was one thing that Aslihan was the utmost certain about: Elijah did not nor could ever repay her. In fact, she couldn't imagine trying to ask him for such a thing. And, if he were to insist it quite heavily, all she could ask of him was to continue being the marvelous family man he has become and to continue pursuing his dream of having his own recording studio, all the while giving himself more grace. There wasn't anything else she could nor would ask of him, even if he tried to persist otherwise. For the past year, she has loved the man. For the past three years, she has supported him and cared for him. And she was more than ready to continue the tradition. Of course, she did wonder as to what it was that made him stall. Aside from how busy the past five months have been, whenever she would look at him, she could tell that there was something that held on to him. Something that, she believed, was also helping to halt him from making the next big step forward. What it was, however, she didn't know. Nor has she tried to press him. The last thing she wanted to risk doing was hurting her boyfriend with her questions. But, perhaps she should try to ask them, soon. Maybe a night when it can be just the two of them. She'll have to figure that out.

Yet, no matter what it was or what could be filling his thoughts or stalling his hand, she was here. She was right by his side. And even though she questioned what, she hoped, was a minor thing; She could never question his love for her, not again. After beating the odds months ago and coming back together, coming back to being the team they've spent awhile being and working on rebuilding that to make it stronger, Asli was certain that she could never doubt his affections for her again. And she hoped he felt the same way.

Now, it was no secret that the curator was horrendous at making time to take a break from her own work. The woman always ready to continue working for as long as possible, to go above and beyond her work. She could always take a break later, after all. Yet, when it came to Eli and with Alex? She was much more attentive, more eager to take care of them and make sure that they make the most of their breaks. That they're getting what they need from them and that it makes them happy. So, even though she was still rusty, she was ready to play for him after his request. And, what made it all even better, was having the girls there. In any other moment or scenario, she would've been nervous. Terrified of making a fool of herself, something that she truly hated doing and tried hard not to. But with her family? All she could feel with them was confidence, and excitement. Excitement that they might like and notice any improvement that her self-critical mind couldn't.

As she began to play, she glanced over at Eli. Her smile growing as the recognition crossed his features. Sure, it was a rather simple tune. Yet even a simple song could hold a great impact on a person. And that was quite evident with her boyfriend, how pride pooled in his eyes and causing a bright smile to appear on her lips as she finished the song. Alex clapped once she was done and the woman blushed at the man's words. "Oh, hush," she giggled, her heart melting at the kiss. "I promise, I'm working on another song as well. I just want to get more practice in before playing for you lovely audience." Glancing at her older daughter, she kissed the top of her head and placed her hand on her back, her thumb tracing softly as her head rested against Eli's shoulder and her other hand taking sleeping Rhia's hand. Alex thought for a moment before, slowly, she began to play a few keys of The Parting Glass. The little girl looking over at them and smiling sheepishly. 'I really like when Uncle Nate sings the song for me, so I wanted to learn how to play,' the seven year old explained. Causing her mother's smile to grow in a warm beam. "And you played so beautifully, my love," she said. "He would be just as proud of you as we are right now." ||📜@elifalvey

There were still fleeting moments where Elijah didn't feel as though he deserved Aslihan's kindness, like all of her love and generosity was clearly meant for someone else and had made a wrong turn somewhere and ended up with him instead. How couldn't he feel that way? When he'd been given this grand opportunity without so much as having to lift a finger, and then two months later, he nearly walked? When she accepted him back into her life and her home with open arms, nudging him back towards his goals and their future? He was meant to repay her, to prove to her that this investment — not only in this project, but in him — was worth it. Instead, he stalled. And while Rhiannon was to blame in the most loving way for part of his hesitance, he knew that their newest addition to the family couldn't shoulder all of it. It was him. He was stalling, of his own accord, because the reality of moving on was somehow still too much to bear. Needless to say, now was one of those moments. Because even though he was dragging his feet, way behind on his plans, she was still right here. Telling him exactly what he needed to hear. She had a talent for that, he'd come to realize — loving him in the way that he was meant to be loved. Regardless of whether or not he thought that he deserved it, he had to admit that much. He could only hope that she felt his love in all the same ways.

Fiddling with the words inside his mind, he decided to let the topic drop; he knew that Aslihan was wholeheartedly prepared to soothe every worry in his head, thus any argument he could possibly make would be lackluster in comparison. He'd believe it, for now — until he was buried in paperwork again and overwhelmed, in due time. "That's what I was hoping you'd say," he replied at her agreement, excitement pooling in the pit of his stomach at the prospect of watching her play. He stood from his chair and made his way over to the piano, carefully sitting down on the bench beside her and readjusting the baby in his arms. She was sound asleep, only fidgeting a little behind closed eyes, but he was sure that would change in a moment — he was fine with that. Growing up with him as a father, she'd have to get used to the sound of piano keys anyway. He found himself giggling at her dramatics, biting back a smile as she started. He recognized it instantly. In fact, it was difficult not to. It was one of the first pieces that his father had taught him to play properly, before he deemed teaching him was too challenging and passed the honor along to an actual instructor instead. As simple as it was, he loved it. "Well, I'll be damned. Showstopping doesn't even begin to cover it, love — actually, I think you're better than me," he complimented as she finished, nothing but pride behind his eyes. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple and as he pulled away, he gently tapped Alex's shoulder on the opposite side of her. He encouraged, "Go on then, bug! Your turn — you gotta play me something next, hm? Show me what you know." ( @draslihanxfahri-bailey )

[geminil0vr]

without me? | ron b. weasley (request)

summary; you and ron say goodbye.

tagged; @partr1dge <3

word count; 1.6k

content; this is really fucking sad, arguing, angst galore, making out, mention of horcruxes, no foreplay y'all i'm sorry, unprotected sex (let’s say she’s on birth control), sad sex (smut), riding, fluff/angst.

a/n; i know this is serious but now i can't stop thinking about all those fuckboy memes like "a haha..... fuck, without me?" also this physically hurt me to write !! i'm sorry anon, this is way too sad, and i know you mentioned them having their first time, but i hope you don't mind that i changed the story a little so they were together for the ‘last time’ !!

you and ron had been arguing, and yelling, and crying, for hours now. it wasn't intense, nor heated. it was cold, it was brash, it was heartbreaking and earth-shattering. you could feel a harsh weight in your chest much akin to a gaping hole that made your limbs feel heavy, and your head hot. that made you feel utterly weak. your face felt warm and swollen from all the tears that had run down it, and his cheeks were flushed pink, face blotchy.

you think, now, that you weren't really that angry, just desperate. you just wanted an excuse, to create an argument, an argument that could very well have been your last. and you wanted to make him feel the way that you did, being left here while he went off to get himself killed, at least a little bit. but not too much. merlin, you wouldn't have wished this feeling of hopelessness on anyone else.

ron weasley had a strong heart, so strong that it chipped away at himself with every person he loved. his friends, his family, you.

and he had a strong head on his shoulders, determined, courageous, yet burdened by endless insecurity.

and you loved him.

your voice cracked for what felt like the millionth time, as the argument reached its shallow peak, where you two were just silent, before finding another reason to argue again, "why can't i just go with you, please, ron?"

"you wouldn't be safe! i've told you this, it's bloody dangerous!"

"you say that as if i haven't always gotten you out of something dangerous! i was there when you got those stupid scars up your arms, i was there for you —"

"i know, i know —"

"merlin, ron, i'm always there! i've always been there when you do stupid shit with harry and hermione!" you pointed to your side, as if an invisible audience were observing you, "why on earth is it — is it up to you to decide now that you want to protect me?"

"because i don't want you to get hurt, not because of me!"

"well, you're doing a pretty fucked up job of that."

you both swallowed, then sighed heavily, sitting down on his bed. he sat, hands clasped in his lap, body tensed. you pressed your hands into the mattress, leaning over it and letting your hair fall down into your face. this was so messed up. reaching over silently, without looking up, you took his hand in yours.

"don't go," you croaked, "i love you."

"i love you too." he whispered, not trusting his voice not to crack if he spoke any louder. but he didn't give you an answer. he didn't need to. you both knew there was no turning back on his decision, that it was something he had to do, that it was something you'd have to accept.

sniffling, you finally lifted your head, looking over at him with tears blurring your vision. you picked up his hand in yours, brushing your lips over it, and shutting your eyes.

he took you in his arms, gently grasping your jaw and kissing you softly. when he pulled away, you carefully pushed him back to you, fingers ghosting the nape of his neck as you both tilted your heads, breathing ragged, cheeks wet. you could taste the salt in your mouth as your tongue swiped over his, not in a battle for dominance, but a cautious waltz of need.

you climbed into his lap, bending down to meet his lips, arms wrapped tightly around the nape of his neck, desperate to just be close. he clutched your waist, kissing down your jaw to your neck, not feverishly, tenderly — he wanted to memorise every piece of you, and guard it with his life. for you, he would. for you, it was worth it. it was worth everything.

sliding down your tank top to your hips, he placed more wet kisses to your exposed breasts, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell, licking over your nipples and suckling gently on the buds as you slowly rolled your hips into his.

you didn't want to think of it as a goodbye. but he'd left you no choice, informing you just a day before his departure that he'd be going to hunt for horcruxes to help his friends. and it was such a selfless thing to do, and it was so ron, running into a battle with no armour on. it was an act of wavering courage. yet you couldn't help but feel fury burst through you, entangling with your worst fears, your pity, your desperation, your sadness.

you wanted to keep ron weasley protected, away from everyone else, away from hurt, away from the trials of life and death. it was unrealistic, but you craved it nonetheless, and you let that want course through your veins, blood burning. you could feel it in your wrists, at your pulse, at your throat, in your stomach, simmering. these were shallow, scalding waters that you waded through, knees giving in, heart giving out.

he moved you to the centre of the bed, taking off his shirt and letting it fall to the ground; you studied him for a moment, broad shoulders, freckled skin — you thought he was beautiful. then you eyed his arms as he leaned over you, covered in deep, white scarring, circling up to his bicep, the cause of the scars even having lashed out at his waist, licks of ivory decorating the sides of his torso. and, pulling your tank top and shorts down, his eyes devoured all the newly exposed skin too.

you didn't speak — you couldn't speak. your hearts were still aching and this was merely a distraction, a last dance.

he trailed desperate kisses down to your waistline, then hooked your panties down, kissing over your inner thighs, making you squirm. then to your hips, and your waist, lengthening the distance between you and what you wanted most.

not wasting another second, he kicked off his own pants and underwear, and slowly dragged the head of his cock over your slit.

he found his voice somewhere, buried in the pit of his stomach.

"are you ready?" he rasped, swallowing.

"mhmm." you nodded, and wrapped your legs around him, hands grasping his shoulders as he eased himself in, just like he'd done many times before.

you groaned quietly together, closing your eyes and savouring the feeling one last time. you clenched tight around him as he set a slow pace, hips gently thrusting against you, both letting little moans slip from your mouths, throats dry from all the shouting and crying. the feeling of fullness enveloped you as he thrust in as deep as he could go, making you gasp and wrap your arms around him tighter.

“so good for me, love. feels so good.” he muttered between pants, the words only making you pulse around him tighter. you had a bizarre urge to both cum and hold off as long as you could so this would go on as long as possible, as long as you needed him on you, inside you.

the sex was soft, bittersweet, filled with random kisses, both rolling your hips against each other. sometimes with ron, it was urgent, needy, desperate, brutal. and despite feeling all of those things at once, you grasped onto each other and never picked up the pace, clammy hands and warm skin, quiet groans and pounding hearts.

“ronnie, i wanna ride you.” you mumbled against his lips, as he allowed you to ease off him, finally straddling his hips once he was slouched against the headboard. you lazily rocked your hips against his, dragging your soaked folds over his shaft, finally letting up and sliding onto his cock once he pinched at your hips and gave you a desperate look.

“fuck, y/n. so tight around me, riding me like that.” he groaned, warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear as you wrapped your arms around his neck for support, head buried in the crook of it, bouncing steadily and moaning every time the new position made the thick head of his cock hit your g-spot.

“i love you.” you groaned, hips meeting his and no longer bouncing, just rocking back and forth, rolling your hips against his slowly.

“i love you too. so fucking much. never wanna leave you.”

“don’t.” you sniffled again, eyes filling with tears once more.

“i don’t want to.” you began riding him properly again, slowly, as he met your thrusts, rutting up into you. the crack in his voice was evident, and you avoided sobbing again by pressing your head even further into his neck, kissing the pale skin softly.

moaning, you bit your bottom lip, “i’m gonna cum, baby.”

“cum for me.” he breathed as you obliged (without much choice), body twitching as your orgasm washed over you powerfully, eyes screwed shut, thighs squeezing against his.

sensitive, he kept rocking up into you slowly, shallow moans building up from the back of his throat, voice raspy, “gonna cum, shit.”

you felt the sudden warmth as he pumped load after load of cum into you, and you kept your eyes closed, holding onto ron tighter than you thought possible as his trembling hands caressed your waist.

“can we stay like this, a sec’?”

his cock began to soften inside you, and he mumbled against your shoulder after a moment, “yeah.”

so you just held each other, breathing and hearts slowing down.

you mumbled into his neck. "promise you'll be safe?"

you could feel him smile softly against your shoulder.

“if it means coming back to you? i promise."

[trentaafcsblog]

Writing Challenge - Angst

“Please say something” - Leon Goretzka

Thank you to the beautiful @penguintransporter for this one 🤍

The corridor of the familiar Gründerzeit residential building seemed to be darker than it used to be; longer and wider, and yet, it was the same as when she had left it, thinking that it would be the last time that she was walking the black-and-white, tiled floor.

There was still the same dried out monstera plant in the corner, the same advertisements on the cork-board, same basket for the wet umbrellas that no one really used, and the same line-up of the vintage lamps mounted on the wall – illuminating the darkness which seemed to be present even in the middle of the sunniest days.

Emelie had to take a deep breath, exhaling softly.

To say that it didn’t feel strange to be there again, after seven months, would be a lie, and as she made her way towards the winding stairway that would take her to the fourth floor, she felt a wave of melancholy wash over her. Everything was the same, and yet it felt so different – walking down the corridor without stopping to check their mailbox, holding onto the railing, yet feeling detached from it as if she wasn’t really present; seeing only his name written on a silver plate on the doors.

She didn’t belong there any more.

Her hand was shaking as she knocked on the doors, and taking an insecure step back, she breathed out a slight and nervous breath she was holding in. She hadn’t seen nor spoken to Leon since she had moved out, wheeling the last bits of her belongings in a small suitcase while he was still at the training, proudly keeping her tears away – a flower pot with devil’s ivy pressed against her chest.

Seven months of denial, fake smiles, and crying when no one could see her.

Seven months of telling herself that she will be okay, that she needed to accept that he wasn’t part of her life any more, and that she had to move on and try to forget.

As if that was an easy thing to do.

Emelie’s heartbeat quickened when she heard the familiar sound of the locks being twisted, and when he finally opened the doors, she felt as if there was no air left in her lungs—just painful scratches while she tried to stay composed.

“Hi, Emelie,” he greeted her, giving her a small tight-lipped smile, and she waved shyly, as if they were just some random strangers, and not two people who have spent more than five years sharing the ups and downs, laughter and tears, sorrow and happiness.

“How have you been?” Emelie asked, trying to keep her voice steady, but under Leon’s gaze, she felt like she was about to crumble any second. “Sorry, I am a bit late, you know – the traffic…as usual,” she trailed off nervously as if she needed to explain herself for being late.

“Don’t worry,” Leon nodded before leaning against the door frame casually, sticking both of his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. “I’ve been good. Yourself?”

“Same,” she smiled weakly, but his face expression didn’t change, as if he knew she was lying; as if he didn’t care. “I’ve been good, too.”

She wasn’t.

Emelie missed him, more than she dared to admit out loud, and no amount of overcrowded clubs every other weekend, new haircuts, and listening to her friends and family badmouth him—none of it helped. If anything it made her only feel miserable, lonely and reminiscent of what she once had with Leon.

They were each other’s worlds, centers of gravity – pulling one another, reading each other’s mind, and Emelie knew that what she had with him will stick to her for as long as she's breathing. Impossible to erase — a part of her body; a vital organ that kept her alive.

“Do you want to come in? We don’t have to talk at the doors,” Leon suddenly asked, pushing himself away from the door frame with ease, “it’s a bit weird, no?”

Emelie didn’t know what to say, so she only shrugged in response. She knew that it was a bad idea to follow him, and yet, when he stepped aside, her legs carried her inside as if she had no power over them, and before she knew it, Leon was closing the doors behind her, trapping her in the hallway of the place she once used to call home.

It still smelled the same - airy and clean. The walls were still white, and the side-table was still littered with envelopes, magazines, and random leaflets of his favourite take-away restaurants. His raincoat still hung where it used to, and his sports bag was on the ground, haphazardly discarded, as many times before.

The only thing that was missing was a framed photograph that used to hang on the wall – the two of them on their first hiking trip together all those years ago – all smiles and slightly sunburnt under the Pyrenees’ sun. Emelie felt her eyes brimming with tears as she stared at the discoloured spot on the wall – a simple square of shadow, silently narrating their story – a story of something that used to be, but it's not anymore.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, looking away from the wall – words rolling off of her tongue on their own accord—unstructured and unplanned. 

“For what?” he asked, picking up the box that was on the floor behind him. “For the package? It’s okay. I don’t blame your aunt for sending you a present to this address. It was probably a force of a habit. Stuff like this happens.”

Emelie forced herself to nod – her emotions boiling inside of her. 

She wasn’t sorry for the present that was delivered nto the wrong address – far from it. Emelie was sorry for everything she had done, had said, and how she acted in the past; all the times she was overprotective, jealous and overbearing. She was sorry for all the matches she had missed because she was selfishly needing time for herself, she was sorry for letting go of what they had; for not fighting harder.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she finally managed to say, taking the box out of his hands before holding it to her chest, and hooking her finger around the cord that held it together.

There was a brief moment of silence as Leon looked down at his watch before glancing at her. “Well…,” he started, running a hand through his hair, and Emelie could remember how his locks felt under her own fingertips—soft like a feather; comforting.

“Leon—,” she started before stopping to take a deep breath.

“Yeah?”

Now or never.

“I will probably regret this later, but I’m—I feel like I need to…” Emelie began, surprising herself with her own courage as she hugged the box tighter. It wasn’t particularly heavy, but in that moment, it weighed like a tonne. “I lied when I said that I am feeling good, because I am not,” she stopped for a second, sucking in a deep breath—her chest feeling like if it was on fire, “—I’m aware that the last year of our relationship wasn't something to be proud of, we misunderstood each other, and we said some really awful things we never should have said, but, Leon…” Emelie felt the tears prickling her eyes yet again as she glanced back at the square shadow on the wall, “Leon, I miss you. I miss what—“

“—Emelie,” he interrupted her, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he took a step back, but she couldn’t think straight. 

Her brain was racing, her heart was breaking all over again, and she needed to get rid of the heaviness that was pressing on her chest.

“Please…,” she whispered, glancing down at her shoes – the uneven wrinkles on the sides of her red Vans greeting her, “—do you think we can give it another try? We fought before and we always...”

Emelie bit down at her lip, not able to continue her thoughts. 

“Emmie,” he finally whispered, still avoiding to look at her, and her heart soared at the sound of the nickname he had for her. No one else called her Emmie. No one, but him. “Don’t ask me that…why are you doing this?”

“I think if we only sat down—talked the things through, no?” Her words were leaving her mouth quickly and desperately – running free after being trapped for too long. “I'm doing this because I still love you.”

There it goes. Four little words to break her all over again.

“Emelie,” Leon sighed quietly - both of his hands cradling his face.

They stood in silence, and below the surface of the pain she felt, Emelie was falling deeper and deeper into abyss of regret. Each second felt like an eternity; each intake of a breath unnerving and more painful than the previous one. She was watching him – his jaw clenching as he looked everywhere but her.

“Please, can you just say something?" Emelie asked in a small and timid voice, "Leon, it’s me, please—”

“—What do you want me to say, Emelie? I didn’t expect any of this—” His voice was louder than before, and it made her take a step back, and not because she was scared, but because she realised what she had done. “I miss us too sometimes, but I—,” he looked down at his own sock-clad feet. “I’ve been moving on Emelie. It's been seven months.”

“Oh—,”

“—I am seeing someone else.”

Emelie didn’t say anything, fighting back the tears as she took another small step backwards – her hands feeling sweaty as she brought the box closer to the chest. Leon was watching her – his face full of concern and a mixture of realisation, but she just smiled at him – brave as big girls do before turning around, putting her hand around the door handle; lingering for a second.

“I am happy for you,” she whispered, "I'm happy you're able to move on."

“I’m sorry, Emmie."

“Don’t be.”

Emelie felt nothing, and yet she felt thousands different emotions as she made her way downstairs. Like a ghost, she floated in the sea of the memories – tears trapped on the surface of her eyes. Pushing the heavy doors open, she exited in the sunny afternoon before looking up at the big window on the fourth floor, only to find him watching her – arms resting against the window sill.

With a small wave, she smiled up at him – one of the smiles that only a heartbroken people knew how to paint on their faces, and crossing the road, she turned her back to the past she once thought was her future.

“You wear your heartbreak like your body is a world at war; and every time a soldier dies within it he whispers one last word, and always, it is your name.” - N.G

This imagine is in collaboration with CoppaFeel! 💗 please feel free to follow the link if you would like to donate, but as always, there is no obligation 🦋 if you have the time, then please have a little look at their website and check out the amazing work that they do 🤍 they also have a free text reminder service where you can receive a monthly reminder to check your boobs, as this is something that is often forgotten about 🍒 a lot of celebrities are also ambassadors for CoppaFeel! - Perrie Edwards, Giovanna Fletcher, Frankie Bridge - so keep your eyes peeled on their social media accounts for any campaigns or fundraising events that may be coming up (they trekked through the Himalayas in 2019 and raised over £1 million!) x

[meenah-chan]

Solace

A Belphegor x GN! MC fanfic

3.14k words

Genre: Angst

Trigger warning: mention of death. Read at your own discretion.

Requested by: @belphiesimpalways thank you for patiently waiting for this. Supposedly, this is for your birthday but still, belated Happy Birthday to you!! This became a little bit too long, and I actually changed the whole thing twice 😅😅 I changed the title too to prevent confusion, hope you don't mind.

He lost it the day he lost his beloved sister. A place to call his home. Yet he met them. The one who brings light to his dark days. But what shall he do, when this solace was never been his?

“How I wished I didn’t met you at all.”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He can hear the harrowing sound of the clock, ringing inside the closed space. As if it were imitating his increasing pulse. Belphegor couldn’t open his eyes. He won’t though, even if he can. He fears he’ll see it again. The agonizing sight of that cursed attic, where he is trapped, cold and lonely. Each click, each clack drives him on a brink of madness.

Somebody please make it stop..! Curled up in his bed, writhing in anguish, Belphegor tried to block the sound with his trembling hands.

Let me out… I hate this place...

“It is for your own good.” Lucifer’s voice reverberates throughout the whole room. His guide light and the hero of his stories… once upon a time, that is.

For my own good? This place was a nightmare! He was imprisoned! He was trapped inside his head, with nothing but bleak thoughts!

He felt cold, with no one to hold onto. With no Beelzebub or Lilith, ready to embrace him when he’s afraid…

Ahhh…

Right…

Even if he managed to escape that place, there’ll be no more Lilith to hold him. To comfort him. To make him laugh of joy and happiness. No more… Lilith is no more…

“...Belphegor?” he snapped his eyes open and suck in a deep breath, as if the voice pulled him out of the deepest pit of the abyss. His heart was beating fast, bathed in his own sweat.

It was just another dream. He was not trapped in the attic any more. He was freed, by the person with him right now, sitting beside his bed, a few weeks ago. “Are you alright? You’re sweating buckets and squirming in your sleep.”

“I’m fine. It was just pretty hot in here.”

They stared at him for a moment before replying. “...If you say so… Wait, let me get you some water and a change of clothes.” unconsciously he raised his hand, fingers tugging on the hen of their shirt which stopped them from their tracks.

“Don’t need one… Just stay here and be my pillow.” Still, feeling a bit anxious of being alone, he didn't let go.

“That won’t do. You’re so drenched. If you don't change clothes and rehydrate, you might get sick. I'll be back in a jiffy.” Yet as they swiftly pried his hand off their clothes, he couldn't do anything but to watch them stride out of the room.

He sighed, recollecting the series of events from the time he met them. “...What a weird person...” He muttered under his breath.

A few weeks ago… Just a few weeks ago, they succeeded in freeing him... Just a few weeks ago, they died by his hands... Yet, they kept on approaching him like nothing had happened.

But oddly enough, he also couldn't get them off his mind; to want them by his side. The only time he could find his peace of mind is when he's with them.

I guess I'm weird too...

Silently, he observed them. The way they speak and walk. The way they would scold him when he chose to nap over catching up his missed lessons. The way they tap and hum unconsciously, while studying with him to encourage him to do so. Those awkward laughs they made as they tried to mend the rift between him and his brothers. The sighs left their lips as his brothers fought over who would have them. The slow and silent steps they make to slip away. The way they wink and place a finger over their lips and pull him with them.

Especially the way their eyes disappear when they're smiling. He can never describe how soothing it was, that smile.

...until he suddenly felt it wasn't.

The way they make the very same smile to Lucifer, Belphegor couldn't help but feel a little bit too irritated. Yes, it was Lucifer. He’s naturally annoyed by him, after what he's done. But this is a little bit different from his usual displeasure.

The youngest just wanted to pry the human off him and drag them away. He knew he couldn't suppress the burning sensation rising from the pit of his stomach. He also knew he'll regret what he wanted to do. He'd look possessive. Delusional. He may even hurt them in the process. So, he chose to escape the scene instead, into the attic which was once his prison.

“Belphegor! I got... and you're asleep.” the demon dares not open his eyes as he hears them make their way to him. “You didn't even remove your uniform...or your shoes. I'm really amazed how you can fall asleep in a matter of seconds.” They carefully remove the shoes and socks from his soles.

Oh no... That's not a good thing. For every touch of their skin sends tingles throughout his entire body. Each cell screaming in a way he never felt before. The bed shook as they crawled in, reaching for the buttons of his vest. He was at his wit's end, completely conscious of the human's presence.

Before they could ever reach for the last row of buttons, his hand stopped them before he lose it.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Y-You're awake?!” Before they could ever pull back, he tugged them in his chest, flustering the human even more.

“H-Hey, let go. Your uniform will get wrinkled.” They tried squirming out to no avail. The demon is just too strong to make him budge.

“Don't want to.” To hide his warm and probably beet red face, he clasped their nape and keep their face over his shoulder.

“I still haven't changed out of mine.”

“Hmm, goodnight...”

“Hey...” after a few more stirring in vain, they just sighed and let the youngest have it his way.

This is bad. Thought Belphegor. The annoyance he felt a while ago dissipates as fast as it builds up inside of him. Still, his heartbeats and head were in utter chaos, the time he held them so close. He said he’s returning to slumber, yet his heart showed no signs of ever slowing down. He bet they could hear it, but he have no more energy to even mind it. After all, amidst the chaos in him, could also feel he won’t be getting any nightmares right now.

“Say Belphegor. Do you have a fever? You’re hot and your heart’s beating a bit too fast.”

“Just tired from the extra work a while ago. I just need some rest.”

“If you say so...”

He could no longer deny this feeling inside him.

He… fell in love with a human. He found it, the peace to his raging storm. The salve to his wounds. But they can never be his solace.

He lost it the day he lost his beloved sister. He lost his home. His freedom. He doesn’t have anything but his disgusting self, who could only obsess over keenly observing each and every move they make. Like a stalker. Like a creep. Like a predator eyeing its prey.

But they were never been his. And the day they learnt of his habit is the day they will be disgusted by him.

“Lucifer!” and the fact that they were attached to his eldest brother— the one who robbed him of his freedom once— didn’t help.

They would link arms around his. Heck, even snuggled to it as they do so, with that widest smile upon their face. The small giggles they give off as the abomination in the form of his brother praised them while petting them. Oh, how he wanted to just cut off that hand straying onto them! How dare he touch–

…them that might have already belonged to him, long before he could enter the picture…?

No. There's just no way that heartless brother of his to fall for a mere human. That brother who bowed down to a demon the day his sister died. And the human who taught him how to love again, to fall for Lucifer. That’s just… impossible… It’s just too cruel…

But I love them too! I can love them more than that fiend who chose a demon over his family!

“No, you’re much crueler…” He could hear the whispers at the back of his mind. “Have you forgotten what you did? You killed them. Do you think you have any rights to even lay a finger on them? You spiteful, wretched, monster…”

…Right… He has no rights to have them… He lost it before he could realize the weight of his actions… It was the painful truth. A punishment for a sinner like him. He could regret it until his last breath but he could never be forgiven.

He doesn't deserve to have a place in their heart. Never. Never…

The door to the twins’ room creaked open and he knew exactly whose footsteps it was without the need to look. “Belphegor, Lucifer gave me some sushi. You like this, right? Let’s eat it while it’s fresh.”

Lucifer again, huh...

“It’s yours. Eat it yourself.” There’s no more point in fighting a lost battle.

Let it grow, “Ehh? But you like—”

“Let’s stop this.” … or let it go.

“…Huh? Stop what?”

He also fears what he might do in the future due to this rotten affection of his. “Just as I thought, I couldn’t stand humans. You’re so naïve and trusting. I’m already fed up with dealing with your antics.”

“Wait, I don’t understand…” They asked, confusion and unease were all over their face.

“You don’t? Then let me explain in a way you’ll understand in that small, gullible brain of yours.” He took a deep breath. He needs to keep his cool or he will definitely break in front of them, “Everything is all an act. You thought I like being with you? Think again, fool. Having a human around me fills me with nothing but wrath and anger! Who do you cause my nightmares!? Your race disgusts me to death! Just looking at you makes me want to puke!”

“B-Belphegor… please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Kidding? Do I look like I’m joking?” he scoffed, holding back the pain clawing in his chest. “Be thankful for my brothers. If not because of them, you won’t be alive the second time, nor your ignorant race are.

“I won’t touch a hide of you or any human. So please, stop bothering me anymore.” being unable to stifle the emotions on the verge of bursting, he turned his back on the devastated human.

This is for the best. He’s back in his cage. Staring at the lacework of the long-lived spiders on the ceiling. He already witnessed its threads wear and replace countless of times. That might not even be the same spider he saw on his first night there. He could care less. After all, the only time he was truly curious of a being is when he met them.

How he wished the thread of his feelings were as flimsy as the spider’s. That way it’ll fall off over time. It can simply be cut off when it comes on his way.

“How I wished I didn’t meet you at all.” He knows it well. He is a big liar. In some way or another, just like the firstborn. But they deserve him more than his wretched self.

Lucifer, he was the morning star. The fact that both heaven and hell were captivated by his beauty and excellence. But Belphegor… he was nothing but a bleak abyss. He once dreamt of his brother’s greatness. Yet he couldn't be anything. He, miserable and empty, who only had nothing but guilt, regrets and a broken heart— as he watched them weep.

It’s been weeks since then. They never approached him like he said. Neither in the dining table nor classroom do they discern his presence. It was painful, but he can take it. The only unbearable one he felt is catching them cry— in Lucifer’s arms.

How long are they going to cry? Is it still because of him? No… This is for the best...

This is his atonement. His fate. He still couldn’t have anything, yet he already lost everything. His—

Lucifer… He is staring at him straight in the eye. I should leave.

But Belphegor couldn’t leave. Not after the eldest gave him that sly smirk. What does that mea…

Lucifer didn’t give him time to think. “Wha, Lucifer…?” Sound of confusion left their mouth as Lucifer grabbed their chin firmly between his index and thumb, with the menacing look on his face. “What are you—!”

And the gap between their faces disappeared. “Hmph!” The sight of the futile struggle of his beloved in the hands of the man he entrusted them to… made the youngest snap.

“LUCIFER!!!” His horns and tail materializing, he lunged towards him. His clenched fist flying in the air, aiming for his jaw. Yet, as if expecting it, Lucifer evade him, loosening his grip on the stunned human in the process. Belphegor saw this as a chance to pry them away from his brother’s hands, before jumping a few meters away from him.

“When are you going to learn to clean after your own mess, Belphegor?” As if the devious smirk were never been present on his face, Lucifer looked at them with his usual expression.

“What the hell?! You’re the one who assaulted them!!” He snarled like a wild animal, holding his treasure protectively from the threat.

“I didn’t do anything. Ask them yourself.”

“Ask? Do you think I’m blind?!” His stance became stiffer, fangs sheathed and glaring sharply at his brother, who is unfazed.

A light tug on his collar made his eyes soften, and caused him to realize his tight grip on them in which he loosen. “Are you hurt?”

“N-No… Lucifer’s saying the truth… He didn’t kiss me. I was just a bit confused he pressed his thumb over my lips.”

“.... What? Okay, but still—!”

“Do you think I’m a fool, Belphegor?” Lucifer cut him off, “I know what you’re planning. I'm already your brother for thousands of years.”

“...”

“Do you now understand the consequence of your foolish action? You left someone important to you in the care of others. But you didn’t think that sort of thing might actually happen?”

“But it’s you who they love!”

Lucifer’s frown deepens, “Even if it were some lesser demon they’re in love with, I bet you'll leave them in their care.”

“I...” He… Lucifer’s right… No one's more dangerous for them than himself.

Belphegor's horns and tail disappeared as he calms down, processing what his brother is saying.

“Everyone’s dangerous in Devildom, you fool. If you really are sorry for what you did, protect them instead.”

“Protect? But… But I...” Ignoring him, the eldest glanced at the person between the youngest’s arms.

“Do you already get what I’m saying Y/N?” They nod. “Not only are you both foolish and stubborn, but also blind. Now fix this yourselves. I’m done with your drama.” pinching the bridge of his nose, Lucifer left them in that awkward position without another word.

“...I’m really sorry. I was afraid to hurt you more than I already did.” After a moment of silence, Belphegor decided to break it first.

“You already did, you idiot.” Wiping the stray tears on their puffy eyes, Belphegor gave them a sad smile. “I guess I did.”

“But I still don’t think this is alright. Shouldn’t you be a bit more wary around me? I mean you already… died in my hands once.”

“You brat. Do you think I’d cry like that if I we’re okay with not being with you? I've never held a grudge against you in the first place.” They pout.

“Why? How can you forgive me that easily?” The demon frowns at them.

“Well, wouldn't life be more wonderful if we know how to forgive and forget?”

Frustrations were evident in his eyes, Belphegor's frown deepens. “That's not right… I killed you mercile—”

“Then shouldn't I be asking you? Why can't you forgive yourself?” He didn’t answer. Mistakes have already piled up as is.

Forgive himself? Why? Does he hate himself?

...Yes... I probably do... He loathed himself. terribly so... But they, who tasted the his abhorrence. He couldn't understand how they didn't.

“You want you to find happiness.” They cupped his disgruntled face in their palms, foreheads touching as they gave him comfort.

“I can’t.” with glassy eyes, he held a hand on his cheeks, “Not when you are my happiness. Not when you liked my brother.”

“You really are blind. And here I thought I was just assuming things.” their giggles were like music to his ears. Their orbs were like the placid sky set upon him. “You really are blind. And here I thought I was just assuming things.”

“I love you, idiot.” And their words, with no hint of doubt or hesitation, hit him like a surge. It made his feelings overflow, coursing throughout his entire body, and finally spilling on every corner of his eyes. It made him unable to speak. “I’m not even hoping for you to feel the same. I just wished to stay by your side… and for you to cherish yourself like how I’ve been to you.”

Belphegor felt so happy beyond words. Such indescribable feelings swirling inside him, one that he can’t put into words. With so much running inside his head, the only line he could form is… “Thank you.”

Weeping, but from so much joy this time, they huddled in each other's grasp, not caring of their setting, until their hearts finally felt whole again.

And after such a blissful moment, “...that’s it? No I love you too?” They spoke.

“What are you saying? I already said I love you.”

“No you didn’t. Saying I’m your happiness and confessing are separate things.” they frown at him, expecting.

“It’s the same.” Yet knowing how stubborn the demon is, the human raised their white flag, although disappointed.

“Okay, alright…” They sighed, wiping his eyes with a tear-stained handkerchief. “Why am I the one comforting you anyways? I’m the one crying because of you.”

Belphegor smiled mischievously, like he didn’t cry a while ago. “Because I’m the youngest.”

“Ugh, why did I fall for a spoiled brat?” Another sigh left them as they pulled him up, “Let's go, I’m sleepy.”

Yet as soon as he rose on his feet, he placed his arms on the back of their knees and shoulder blades to carry them, gaining a small yelp from them.

“Hey...” no protest managed to leave their lips as he sealed it with a chaste kiss. Probably not their first but it was the sweetest one. It only last a few seconds, but Belphegor knew fully well. This memory will last forever.

“I love you more, my solace.”