#also i CAN do it with a broken heart until my heart isn't broken anymore! i know i can!

[thebirdandhersong]

happy to report the agony is starting to fade a little !!

[rainyinautumn]

there's a parallel in last life that I don't see talked about as much as it deserves and so I'm going to dissect the ever-living hell out of it. remember the ghast farm incident? everyone remembers the ghast farm incident. Grian turns red, he starts knocking blocks of a bridge out from under Mumbo, "there's a way we can still be friends," etc etc etc. it's fantastic. WELL. two sessions earlier, there's a similar confrontation between Scar and Joel after Joel turns red, except the roles are reversed. Joel approaches and it's Scar who starts breaking blocks of the bridge, trying to put distance between the two of them. HOWEVER, the interesting difference here is that Scar is doing it not because he doesn't want to be Joel's friend anymore, but because he still wants to be. lets take a look at a transcript of part of that scene, shall we?

[Scar breaks several blocks of the bridge.] Joel: Scar, what are you doing? I know you're not my friend anymore, but come on, Scar. Not the bridge. Scar: I wanted to make an arrangement. Are- are we not friends? Joel: We can't be friends, Scar. We can't be friends.

Scar knows that Joel is a red life and that he might hurt him, but he still wants to be friends, so he's providing a way that they can be near each other while he isn't in any danger by putting a gap in the bridge. he even breaks it again when he comes by to chat later. during that chat, Joel reminds him of how dangerous he is, Scar says he "gets it," and then proceeds to let him continue living under magical mountain. Scar doesn't "get" that he needs to be cautious of Joel—what he "gets" is that he's taking a risk by letting him stay and that he's already accepted something might happen. and he's OKAY with that. Joel is red. he gets it.

now compare that to this excerpt from the ghast farm incident:

Grian: Y'know, Mumbo, there's a way we can still be friends. Mumbo: Yeah? Grian: Yeah. [he starts breaking blocks at of Mumbo's feet] You could join me.

with Joel and Scar, it's a red life choosing to step away from his friend in order to protect him, while said friend tries to find a way that they can still be near each other without placing himself in danger. with Grian and Mumbo, it's a red life choosing to try to take his friend down with him so that they can be near each other because he can't accept not being his friend. the fact that in BOTH scenarios the friendship is symbolized by a bridge being broken is a perfect illustration of one of Grian's lines from the ghast farm incident: "it was a bad idea for the wrong reasons." those friendships should have been a good idea, those bridges should have been a good idea, but now they provide a connection that isn't safe, and they all know that.

and I'm not done talking about this. no no no no no. this offers a FASCINATING insight into why desert duo is Like That. Scar would sooner let Grian kill him than have to stop being his friend. Grian would sooner kill Scar than have to stop being his friend. which is all kinds of perfectly fucked up and explains exactly why 3rd life ended the way that it did. it also makes the cactus scene from double life very interesting to think about. remember the cactus scene? it's a doozy.

Grian starts session by dropping a stalactite on Scar's head as a prank and (unintentionally) taking them down to two and a half hearts. Scar then retaliates by leaning against a cactus until Grian breaks it. he then leans against Yet Another Cactus until Grian breaks that one too, at which point they are at only one heart. a question I've been asking since that day is this: if Grian hadn't broken the cactus, would Scar have stepped away before it was too late?

using bridge theory, we can find an answer to this.

the answer is no.

this isn't necessarily because Scar is actively trying to get them killed—it's more because he knows with absolute certainty that Grian will break the cactus. he's not prepared to step away because he isn't worried he needs to. see, the difference between Grian and Scar is that Grian is willing to throw around the lives of other people to get what he wants, and Scar is willing to throw around his own life to get what he wants (the fact that what they really want out of all this is often the other's trust is an issue I will dissect another day). once again, last life is the perfect example of this. Grian steals a life from Scar right off the bat and gets another one out of him by force a few episodes later. meanwhile, Scar makes a business out of selling his soul and threatens Team BEST that he'll kill himself in order to go red life crazy on them. and they don't doubt him! and they SHOULDN'T doubt him, because Scar is the kind of guy that would do that! the same way that Grian is the kind of guy who will drop a stalactite on his soulmate's head but break the cactus he's leaning against.

Grian is willing to risk Scar's life, but he's not okay with Scar risking his own life, because he knows that he's completely willing to stand against a cactus until he dies if it makes a point. so Grian breaks it.

but Scar knows Grian as well as Grian knows him. Scar knows that this is hardly a risk at all. so he leans against the cactus a third second time.

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

returning home

(cw: age gap 26/41; nsfw, mdni, smut, a bit of angst and drama, fluffiness and a lot of tears)

the part before: it's the parts of König that she didn't see

a/n: i'm sorry, this got a bit out of hand :') over 9k words, buckle in, we're in for a ride

I have been a mess those past four months. This has been the worst breakup of my life. I mean, not that I had that many partners before. And the only one I still sometimes cry after is my highschool sweetheart.

But this… we weren’t even an official thing. König and I spent a lot of time together in those few weeks, yes. But we never even clarified if we were in a relationship or not. Dating. Being exclusive. And sure, I was basically living at his place after only a week of knowing each other. But that didn’t mean anything in retrospect. Apparently.

You can’t really call in sick for a broken heart and I wasn’t able to leave my bed for a few days. Sleeping a lot, listening to all the sad love songs, barely eating. Until my mom came by, basically kicking me off my mattress. Forcing me – in a loving way – to get a grip and not mope around like a heartbroken mess.

The worst part was when I found one of his hoodies in between my stuff, I must have accidentally packed it with my clothes when I got everthing together, and it still smelled like him. It doesn't anymore because I have been wearing it nonstop when I'm at home. Not outside though, because the piece of clothing looks ridiculous on me with how big it is compared to my size. I could fit myself in there three times and the hem falls over my knees. If I press my face into the fabric, I still pick up hints of his scent. At least that’s what I tell myself.

The marks on my body faded too. The hickeys he left on my skin becoming fainter by each day, until they were gone.

I looked at all the pictures we took together. Well, more like, I took them and König is also in them. And the selfies we sent each other. The only ones I didn't keep were the filthy ones, because it felt wrong, so I deleted them. But I didn't have the heart to do that to the pictures of us, the ones that carried the memories. And it stopped hurting as much over time. At least that’s what I tell myself.

Lying in bed. The one he bought and we built together, because he broke mine. It's unfair, really, because he is gone and I can't escape him still. Repeating his words to me in my mind.

You should be with someone your age.

It never had been a topic for me, not something I would've spent a second thought on, at least not like this. But apparently, it had been on his mind.

Someone who can promise you that they'll come back every time.

And in the back of my mind there is still the little voice that wishes that he would just have had the guts to be with me. Despite the possibility of him not coming back in one piece, leaving me to mourn him. Because like this, he isn't in my life either. And I still worry about him, because there is no way for me to know that he still is in this life.

He didn't even want to hear my side of things. Or maybe he wanted to, but I was just too blindsided by it all, frozen in place as he “broke up” with me.

Afterwards, when I thought about what he said, I wanted to scream. To shout at him. Even if I could never really do that. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and ask him, what the fuck he was thinking. Why the fuck he was thinking that.

Fuck. I’m so sorry, Liebes.

His apologies didn’t help either. Because I wanted to be mad at him. I was mad at him, and I still am. At least that’s what I tell myself.

Because even though I get it - I get what he was telling me - I still don’t fully understand.

And I remember the look on his face as he was crouched before me. When it became painfully clear that I couldn’t read him.

I never meant for this to go this far or… this deep.

Well, I didn’t either. But it did. And he left, even though he felt the same way. Or at least so I thought.

After a few weeks I finally feel better. I’m okay with how it is. That’s what I tell myself.

Not at all ready to go out on dates again. Not that there is any rush. Not that there had been that many occasions, but still. The thought alone of being with somebody that's not him…

I get back to work, meet my friends, hang out with my family, and when they ask me how I’m doing, I can convincingly tell them I’m okay.

Almost every night the thing on my mind before I fall asleep is him. Nothing, but him, and how I wish he was lying right next to me. I still just want him to come back.

And I know I’m not making any sense. It’s just gonna take some more time to get over this.

When I wake up one morning and see the messages on my phone, I don't even realize what they mean at first.

I'm coming back tomorrow I don't deserve you, but if there's any chance that you'd want to see me again... I’m landing at the airfield in [REDACTED], at 1130 I'm sorry, and I understand if you've moved on or maybe we can talk sometime this week if you're busy whatever works for you or maybe you don’t want to talk to me at all which is fine as well, of course just let me know in Liebe, König

I blink, reading the messages over and over again. The little incoherent ramble until it finally clicks. He's coming back.

I groan, putting the phone away, hiding my face in my hands. Contemplating what I should do as the possibility of seeing him again churns in my stomach. And all the emotions come flooding back, tears pricking in the corner of my eye. God damn it.

Men and women are disembarking from the aircraft and I crane my neck, looking for him.

I’ve been waiting here for some time cause they were running late. And I’m not the only one, there are quite a bunch of people waiting. Probably families and partners? They all seemed relaxed, at least more relaxed than me.

I’m hopping from one leg to the other, my hands feel a little clammy as I knead them. And honestly, I’m a little nauseous.

More people in gear than I would have thought come off the plane, meeting up with their relatives, mingling with each other or just leaving.

I already fear that I completely misunderstood his messages, but that couldn’t have been possible, right? Maybe I shouldn't have come here, and just told him I’ll see him some time this week, maybe I shou-

Two more figures emerge from the cargo hold, coming down the ramp. I don’t recognize the man on the right, but the one on the left…

Beige cargo-pants, protectors on the knees and shins. A simple longsleeved shirt, black of course, and a bulletproof vest. Gloves and more protectors on his arms. The band of bright red beads around his wrist.

The mask, the hood fashioned out of simple fabric, red streaks down underneath the eyeholes, held in place by the helmet atop his head. Hiding his face away.

Fuck.

I only saw a picture of him in gear once, when he showed me, but I still would have recognized him instantly. His tall build, the attitude with which he carries himself, gives him away. This get-up can’t hide it.

He stills. Frozen in place, and from the distance I can’t make out anything.

I just stand there, unsure if he already saw me. And I lift my hand, just a little wave, before I drop it again.

Shit, maybe I should have told him that I was coming.

But then he starts running towards me. A slight jog at first, his strides getting longer with every step. I can’t just stand here either, my legs almost moving on their own.

Dropping the bag that hung over his shoulder. His gloved hands are fumbling with his helmet, until he gets it off, just throwing it away, and pulling of the mask too, and when I see his face for the first time in month, I feel tears prick in the corner of my eyes. Running a little faster, only a few meters between us now. The skin around his eyes is smeared with eyeblack, his long hair is clinging to his head, as he also gets rid of the balaclava, just pushing it down, so it sits around his neck, and then…

He stops, just a step before me, not to run me over, but I don’t, jumping up, jumping into his arms, the full impact of my body against his not moving the big guy a little bit. I’m clinging onto his shoulders as he catches me in his embrace. I’m burying my face in his neck, and when his scent hits my nostrils, a little sharper than usual, gunpowder and sweat mixing with his warm soothing scent, the tears flow free, staining his balaclava, wetting his cheeks. Sobs are shaking me as he presses me against him, my legs hugging around his waist.

“I missed you so fucking much.”, he says, his deep voice shaky, and I can’t even answer because it just makes me cry more. “Ssssh, Liebes. Don’t cry.”, he tries to comfort me, but hearing his favourite term of endearment only lets the tears flow freely. “I didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“To-oo late for - that.”, I press out between two sobs.

“I’m so sorry, fuck.”, he sighs, his arms closing even tighter around me. “I don't know how I will ever make it up to you.” His gloved hand is softly caressing down my back.

“I missed you too.”, I finally manage to say, my voice thick with tears, pressing myself against him, and I never wanna let go.

But I need to pull back, only a little, just to look at him again. Touch him. Convince myself that this is real.

My vision is blurred, but that’s still him, his face so close to mine. His gaze intently on me, while one of my hands grabs him, my fingers caressing over his jaw, the stubble a little longer than I’m used to, the smudged black colour around the eye area making him look a little different. He leans into my palm, the eyebrows pulling up and the tension melting away.

His hand cups mine, his thumb softly caressing over it, such soft touches and another small sob is shaking me.

“I don’t want to overstep anything.”, he whispers. “But I would really like to kiss you.”

And I nod, not able to speak the words yet. And before he can lean in, I already press my lips to his. When my mouth meets his, and I taste the saltiness of my tears intermingling with his scent, the wave of relief that floods me is indescribable.

It's as soft as I remember, something that always surprised me. How soft his kisses are.

The way his lips press against mine, like he's searching for something, tasting me. Nipping at my lower lip, his nose rubbing against mine. His stubble scratching over my skin as he tilts his head.

He presses kisses to the corner of my mouth, my cheeks, my nose. All over my face, slowly drying up my tears, and I take a deep breath, calming myself down. He really is back.

When I finally take a look around, I realise that we’re off to the side a bit, but not that far away from the others on the tarmac, so… this must be quite the spectacle for his colleagues and the people who waited for them. Some of them are in tight hugs or talking with the civilians, but some are also looking in our direction, every once in a while. I don't have any time to feel self-conscious though, about being a teary mess.

And the guy who disembarked the aircraft with König comes our way, a little hesitantly, but smiling at us both.

“Köni.”, he says in a deep, but friendly voice, omitting the g in his name.

“Horangi.”, König says, setting me down, but keeping me close by his side, and I wouldn’t have moved an inch away.

The man in front of us is dressed in green and beige camo, quite different from what the big guy is wearing except for the pants. A similarly coloured balaclava around his neck and sporty sunglasses on his head, sitting on top of it in his hair, complete the look.

“I heard so much about you.”, he says lightly, addressing me.

“You did?” My eyebrows shoot up, almost colliding with my hairline.

He nods, grinning, not fazed at all by the threatening stare from König. “Yes. Every time he drank just a little too much, he wouldn't shut up about you.”, Horangi says. “You did a number on the guy.”

I don't know what to say to that at first, honestly a little gobsmacked. “I did?”

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off.”, König says to Horangi, patting the other man’s back, the frown on his face turning into a grumpy smile.

“See ya, Colonel.”, he says with a grin. “Enjoy your leave.”, adding a little joking salute, before stomping off.

I wave after him, confused for a moment. Colonel?

“Don't mind him.”, König grumbles as I turn to him again, but he doesn't look mad in the slightest bit. “He doesn't know how to behave sometimes.”

My arms closing around his waist, and he repositions me a bit, so the straps on his bullet proof vest don’t press into my cheek.

“So, you really did miss me.”, I say pulling him tighter. Not a question, a statement.

“I did.”, he answers almost solemn as he brushes a stray strand of hair out of my face.

Some of the soldiers are still standing around, talking to each other and the people around them, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.

“They’re still looking.”, I whisper to him, unsure what that means.

“Yeah, cause they’re all seeing my face.”, he whispers back, smiling down at me.

Right, the hood!

“Oh shit, I forgot about the mask thing.”, I say, my hand clasping over my mouth. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine.”, he says softly. “They'll survive seeing my face. And I will too.”

“Right, still.”

“Don’t worry about it. I asked you to come here.” He pauses for a moment. “More on a whim, cause I didn’t really think you actually would.”

I take a deep breath. “To be honest, until this morning I didn’t know either.” My eyes pan up to meet his. When I woke up, I knew that I wanted to see him. But only when I got into my car, I called into work to take a personal day off and instead drove here.

“I’m glad you did.”, he says, holding my gaze.

“Me too.”, I whisper back.

“Cause Horangi was right. I was miserable.”

Just like I was. “Really?”, I ask him again, almost soundlessly.

“I was fucking miserable without you.”, he repeats, picking me up again and pressing another kiss to my lips.

I think I don't wanna leave his embrace ever again. But we still have stuff to talk about. Stuff to sort out. And we really can't do that here.

Plus his kisses have their usual effect. As the emotional turmoil and tears dissipate, a familiar feeling spreads through my body, my lower belly tensing up.

“You’re here in your car?”, he asks quietly in between two more kisses. Getting more desperate.

“Yeah.”, I say. “I parked it around the corner.”

“Okay, you wanna get out of here then?”

I just nod, kissing him again, and his little hum against my lips lets tingles erupt all over me. Then we're out of here.

Not before picking up his helmet and hood that he shed on the way, me still in his arms, getting his duffle bag, and I can’t help the little giggle escaping me, because he refuses to set me down when he bends down. Carrying me like I weigh nothing, also not willing to leave my side even for a moment.

On the way to the car, it gets even a little more heated and I’m glad when we turn the corner, hiding away from other eyes.

He’s taking huge strides, heading right for my car, that he spotted in an instant, the small silver one.

My fingers are tangled in his hair, his hands grabbing my ass and thighs, and I pull the car key out my pocket and unlock it. He opens the car door, lying me down on the cushioned seat and I scoot back to make room for him.

Reminders flood my brain how we did it in the back of his car, much bigger than the Toyota I drive. It’s way too small for him, but that doesn’t stop us.

I push off my shoes and get my pants off quickly as he climbs in over me, his shoulders pressing up against the roof of the car, while he sheds his protectors and gloves and shuts the door behind him.

A moment later, I’m folded in half, my knees against my chest, the feet up in the air brushing against the frame of the car. His hands gripping my thighs, spreading me for him.

König is eating me out like a starved man, soft mewls and grunts dropping from his lips, the vibrations of them against my sensitive skin.

“Oh fuck.”, I groan.

His hair is falling over his face, but I just want to see him, brushing the strands back. His gaze burning into me as he looks up at me, the eyeblack giving him a rugged look.

Desperately licking me, my juices glistening all over the lower part of his face. The stubble that is longer than usual is scratching against the insides of my thighs, but I don’t care about that right now, in the contrary, the soft scratch right there makes me even hotter.

It’s him. in this get-up, a little different than I was used to, but it’s him.

When he slips his fingers into me, his lips closing around my clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, something that always made me lose my mind fast, and this is no exception.

The way he fills me up, his thick digits stretching me. His tongue working my pussy, knowing exactly what makes me cry out. His mouth wandering, littering my inner thigh with kisses and hickeys.

The bites and nibbles send shivers down my body, my hips rutting forward, pushing my pussy into him. His arm comes over tummy, holding me in place, so I can't escape his touches.

“Yes, please, just-”, I sigh, and I can feels how he curls his fingers inside me, hitting just the right spot.

I come around them, my cries a bit too loud in my own ears in the small space, and I almost bump my head into the car door behind me as he doesn’t let up, but dives in again. His tongue is toying with my clit, dragging over it, slow, broad licks, and my body shakes and convulses.

“König…”, I plead, my hand tangled in his hair.

He finally pulls back a bit, still lapping everything up, even putting his own fingers in his mouth. His lips closing around them, his lids fluttering for just a moment.

“You taste so fucking good, Kleine.”, he whispers, not breaking eye contact as he meticulously licks my arousal off them, and I can’t help the blush on my face, especially when his tongues darts through between them. Fuck.

Instead of an answer, I pull him into me, to kiss him again, tasting myself on his lips, my hands dropping to his belt, fumbling with the clasp. I want more. I want him.

“Wait.”, he says, his hand coming over mine, I can feel the lingering wetness on them, and I still for a moment. “Shouldn’t we like…”

“You…. don’t want to?”

"No, of course I do, Liebes… I just want to do it right, you know? Make it right. In a proper bed."

I pull one of my eyebrows up. He thinks about that now after eating me out. "We can still do that later, no worries."

"But- I-"

"Yeah, that's all really noble, but right now I just need you." I kiss him again. "So shut up and fuck me. Please.", I say, still fumbling with his belt.

“I don’t have any condoms with me.”, he says, still not helping me to get his gear off.

I pull up an eyebrow. “And?” We did it raw many times, why would it be…

"Did you not... You didn't...?", he stammers, his eyes searching mine.

And then it dawns on me. "If you're gonna ask, if I slept with somebody else in the meantime, I suggest you don't. Because I fucking didn't." Adding after a moment’s pause: “Did you?”

"Fuck, no.”, he answers without hesitation, but his whole body is still shaken with agitation. “Fuck, I'm sorry, I just-" His hand strokes through his hair, exasperated, straightening up a bit and almost hitting his head on the roof of the car.

"König."

He stills, his eyes on me again and I can see the turmoil in them.

"I didn't want anybody else, I just wanted you back.", I say, my voice a little shaky. "And now that I've got you back, I just need to feel you. We can talk and do all the other stuff after getting home, okay?"

Home. The word slipped over my lips before I could think about it. It's out there before I can take it back.

He doesn't move a bit, just looks at me incredulously, and my hand shoots out to grab him which pulls him from his thoughts.

“I do not fucking deserve you.”, he whispers, and then it all happens very quickly. Pulling the zipper down and getting his dick out, the tip slipping between my folds.

He doesn't wait a moment longer and we both groan in unison when he slides into me, and the familiar feeling floods me, the stretch deliciously making me squirm.

Yet my eyes don't leave his for even a moment, not daring to close them, in case this is still a dream and he did not really come back.

But when he grasps my chin, tilting it up and leaning down to press his lips to mine, the tears that have been welling up again roll down my cheeks, the wetness blurring my vision.

I wipe them away, aggressively, a little mad at myself that I just can't stop crying. “Fuck, just… I-” I sigh. “Those fucking tears.”

He’s not saying anything, his thumb brushing over my cheek, a soothing gesture. His lips are peppering kisses all over my face as he starts to fuck me, slowly and sweetly.

I look down to where we are connected, seeing him push into me, seeing and feeling his dick slip into me. As deep as he can go.

With the position I’m in, folded in half, my belly is bulging with every thrust, just a bit, but still. And when he bottoms me out, time after time after time, I inadvertently squeeze around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”, he groans.

He’s not fucking me fast, more hard and deep. The sound of skin against skin when his lap collides with the plush of my thighs, loud and quite heavy. And I’m underneath him, framed by his strong arms, holding onto them.

Every single one of his thrusts lets a moan slip out of me, especially with how his pubic bone is pressing up against my sensitive clit, over and over again.

My breath hits his face, the look on it still a little incredulous, the almost enamored smile.

His breath is getting heavier too, rattling grunts shaking his chest. I wanna feel them, I wanna feel his rapid heartbeat against my fingertips. My hand slips under his vest, the other one holding onto it. The soft fabric of his compression shirt is warm, feeling his heartbeat strum against the palm of my hand, as I look up at him. Back in one piece. Alive.

The telltale signs how close he is are written on his face. The breath that halts in his throat every so often. The way his jaw drops. His brows draw together, not his usual frown, the ever-present scowl. Ecstasy visible on his features. And his eyes pressing together, for just a moment.

Looking down at me again, he’s still fucking me, my knees pressed up against my chest, his propped-up arms carrying most, but not all of his weight. My fingers are grabbing his bulletproof vest, needing him closer. The buttons of his waistband and the belt pressing into my ass with every thrust.

But all those sensations get overtaken when my second orgasm washes over me abruptly, just holding onto him, and I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, when he doesn’t stop. The pushes of his hips, how he rolls them into me, getting a little more desperate, almost losing the rhythm, as I clench around him.

He’s buried deep inside me, filling me up when he comes, and groans drop from his lips. His face contorting in pleasure. I missed his stupid face, and apparently I also missed his O-face.

He takes a big breath, backing off a bit, giving me a moment to reposition my legs. When his dick slips out of me, I sigh, feeling a bit empty and the wetness against my stomach as it rests over it.

His big heavy body slumps over me, and we just stay like that for a while. Cheek to cheek. My arms around his neck, his hands softly caressing down my body.

Maybe I could even stay like this forever.

Again I remember the time we did it on the backseat of his car, that was much more spacious. Half an eternity ago. Only the second time we ever did it.

Softly kissing now and then. The little sounds and our breath the only thing in the calm silence around us, until he breaks it.

“Can I take you home?”

“Yes.”, I answer without hesitation. We still have some stuff to sort out, and we should get going.

He’s zipping himself up, I put on my pants again, his cum seeping into my panties now, but I don’t even care and get into the driver’s seat, the doors close behind us.

And for once he is in the passenger’s seat, my car still way too small for the big man. It’s almost ridiculous how his stature fills the car. He almost has to duck his head like this, even without the helmet, dwarfing the whole space.

I chuckle a little, put on some music and start driving.

“So Colonel, huh?”, I ask him, pulling an eyebrow up.

“Yeah.”, he says, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know why I never told you.”

“It’s okay.”, I say. “I guess, that doesn’t really matter in the civilian life.”

“It doesn’t.”, he agrees. “But it also feels like I wasn’t fully honest with you. Which is shitty.”

I clasp my hand over his for a moment, squeezing his fingers. A little reassurance. I don't care about his rank cause it doesn't change anything anyway, and I also never bothered to ask.

“So, I wouldn't get in trouble for insubordination if I called you Sir and not Colonel?”, I ask him, teasingly.

His brows furrow, that certain look in his eyes like always when I was being bratty - and I missed that too.

“You won't.”, he grumbles.

I can't help the little laugh. “Good to know.”

I look to the side, and there he is. It’s him, even in this get-up, it’s him. In my car.

And he’s grinning back at me, not as bright as I was used to, but still. I shake my head as I look back onto the street. He really is back.

I pull into the driveway, the sight of his house alone pulling at my heartstrings. The heavy feeling hits me, the lightheartedness I felt before taking a little hit, even before turning the motor off, getting out the car and heading inside.

He unlocks the door and goes inside, putting down the duffle bag, as I follow him. I stand around a little unsure, taking my shoes off, before heading to the living room.

When I see the couch, I have to swallow my emotions down, not ready to cry again. The memories come rushing back and I just need a moment to take it all in.

Heavy steps behind me, warmth emanating from his body. His presence so tangible, even when he’s not touching me. I’m still so tuned into him.

And I turn.

God damn, I almost forgot how big he is. He fills the doorframe that has been fit to his height. His shoulders seeming even broader in his gear. His head almost grazing the top of the frame.

And I have to tilt my head back to look up at him. We just stand here for a moment.

“I need to shower.. you, uh-”, he starts.

“I’m just gonna wait here, okay?”

He nods. “Yes, of course.” He hands me his phone. “You wanna order something to eat in the meantime? For us.”

“I can do that.”

“Pick whatever you like.”, he tells me before rushing up the stairs with huge strides, taking his bag with him.

I sigh and take a seat at the dinner table we barely ever used. Not daring to sit on the couch like I usually would have.

Unlocking his phone, only clicking on the delivery app, of course. Searching for his favourite take-out place, the grill with the nice little garden out back.

Does he deserve it? I don't know, maybe not. But I'm not gonna be petty over food. I’m adding another dessert for myself, though.

After I placed the order, I put his phone away, picking up mine instead. Scrolling on the usual apps, waiting because I don't know what else to do. He’s taking longer than I’m used to for the shower. And I can feel myself getting a bit restless. My mind coming back to the things he said. When he broke up with me and then today when he came back.

Heavy steps are coming down the stairs, him emerging in a get up I’m more used to, a simple black shirt and shorts.

His hair is still a bit wet, clinging to him in strands. He’s freshly shaved too, the stubble he had before gone. And I can smell the clean and sharp tone of his after-shave when he walks up to me.

“Food will be here soon.”, I tell him, because I don’t know what else to say.

“Okay, thank you.”

“Your favorite.”

“You didn't need to do that.”

“I know.” I hand him back his phone. “And I didn't snoop through it or anything.”

He nods, acknowledging my comment. “I trust you.” He steps a bit closer, taking it. “But you wouldn't have found anything noteworthy either. My phone is embarrassingly empty.” He looks up from the device, to me, a lopsided wry smile adorning his face. “Mostly work emails and photos of you I couldn't bring myself to delete.”

“Yeah?”

He nods.

“What’s the other stuff?”

“Photos of Mimi.” His smile is turning into a grin.

“That little minx. I should have known.”, I say exasperated, but jokingly.

He’s still standing there, swaying from one foot to the other ever so slightly, and almost wanna tell him to just sit down.

“I thought about calling you. I just didn't know what to say.”, he says, his voice quiet. “I wasn't even sure you'd pick up.”

“I don't know if I could have handled talking to you over the phone.”, I say carefully, but honestly. I probably wouldn’t have picked up.

He just nods. “I understand.”

“I actually didn’t know what to think when you texted me.”, I continue. “It was a lot. After a few months of no bleep, no nothing.”

“I wanted to text you. I just chickened out every time.”, he says. “But Horangi kicked some sense into me.”

“Does he do that often?”, I ask, biting back a grin, when remembering the conversation with him earlier. How he basically snitched on him, painting the a bit pathetic picture of drunk König who missed me so much that he wouldn't shut up about me. After he broke up with me of his own volition.

He tilts his head to the side, grudgingly admitting: “Sometimes.”

“And we all need friends like that sometimes.”, I say.

He laughs a little and confesses. “Yeah, he actually helped me phrase the messages because I just didn’t know how I-” He breaks off. “I meant everything I said though.” His eyes find mine again. “I would've understood if you didn't have time or if you just didn't wanna see me. But I still had to try. And I meant it earlier, when I said that I’m glad you came.”

The look on his face, almost pleading. And I feel the same way, but being here with him still feels a little… overwhelming.

“I-”

The doorbell ringing disrupts our conversation. He turns and hurries to the door. I can hear him talk to the delivery person as I get up and hurry to the kitchen to get plates and cutlery.

We’re both coming back a few moments later, setting everything down on the dinner table, taking a seat next to each other. Opening up the containers of food, laying everything out. Loading our plates up, my stomach grumbling. I hadn’t eaten all day, too anxious and nervous. I dig in, taking spoonsfuls of the veggies with rice, and I feel how his eyes are on me, how he’s watching me.

I meet his eyes when he breaks the silence again.

“I missed your birthday, didn't I?”, he asks, but judging from the look on his face he already knows the answer.

“Yeah, a few weeks ago.”, I say, nodding.

“Now there's ‘only’ 15 years between us.”, he says, matter-of-factly.

“There are.”, I agree. “But it doesn’t matter. 15, 16, what’s the difference.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

I put my fork down for a moment and just tell him outright what I have been thinking: “When I teased you, it was never about that. Our age difference never was an issue for me, you know. But I will never call you an old man again, if there is a chance that you will throw it in my face like that.” I pause. “Again.”

“I’m not gonna do that - again.”, he reassures me.

“Good.” I take a deep breath. “If I had known that this was plaguing you, I could have put your mind at ease. Or at least tried.”

“It’s not on you.”, he says with a sigh, his hand dragging over his face for just a moment, rubbing over his eyes. I can feel the frustration emanating off him. “I just- I tried to hide it.” Like he also tried to hide it when he had shit days. I wanna grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

“I figured. Because the whole… conversation came out of nowhere for me.”

“Yeah, I felt like such an asshole afterwards. I went about it the most blunt way. The whole thing anyway… it was a mistake.”, he continues, point-blank. “And I’m sorry for that.”

If we had this talk only weeks after he left, I would have been so mad still. The distance helped. It's also helping right now. Acknowledging that it had been a mistake, it doesn't make the "break up"-thing go away. But I feel like I still needed to hear that.

“It’s okay.”, I whisper.

He shakes his head. “It’s not.”, he says. “It wasn’t okay.”

“I know.” I reach for him, our fingers intertwining, my thumb softly caressing over the back of his hand. Our eyes meet and I can see his emotions in them, clearer than ever before. Not trying to hide them anymore. And I understand. A little smile stalks onto my face.

“Let’s just eat, okay?”

And I never have to tell him that twice.

After we finished up, he carries the plates and leftovers to the kitchen, refusing my help, and I finally take a seat on the big couch, slumping into the cushions.

König emerges in the doorframe, just standing there. Frozen in place. I put my phone down and for a moment we just look at each other. The same familiarity hits me, but the guilty look on his face tells me why he’s not moving an inch closer.

It's a bit ridiculous. We fucked, we ate together, we talked about some of the shit that went down. He apologized - again.

I softly pat the cushion beside me. “Come here.”

He’s taking a few steps, hesitatingly approaching and sitting down. But he stops there. I look up at him from the side, and I have never seen him so unsure. It's almost a little sweet.

Grabbing him, I pull him down to me and he just lets me. Positioning his head in my lap, cradling his face, and he lies down the feet dangling over the side of the couch. When my hand caresses over his chest, he sighs. Relaxing into the cushions. I can almost hear the weight drop from his shoulders as he melts into my touch. His hand clinging onto my arm. His brows turning up as he looks up at me.

For a moment we just sit in silence and I let the calmness flood me that his proximity brings. Playing with the long strands of his hair. Softly straightening out the waves that always form when they are freshly washed. Looking down at him.

“I don’t fucking deserve you.”, he whispers.

And there it is again. That sentence. It bothered me when I read it in the messages he sent. And then when he uttered them today.

I grab his face and make him look at me. Squishing his cheeks. “Don’t say that.”, I tell him, my voice trembling. “Don’t fucking say that.”

He stills, his eyes flitting between mine, his mouth dropping open a little.

“I didn’t- I…” I’ve almost never seen him speechless, but today every time I’ve said something that he seemingly didn’t expect he just looked at me like that.

“You think it's flattering or whatever. It’s not.”, I say, exasperated. “It’s like I’m on a fucking pedastal. It doesn’t make me fucking feel good, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. I don’t need anymore “sorry”s from him. “You already thought that before you broke up with me, didn’t you?”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding. Silence between us as I only look at him, reading what’s in his eyes.

“Beating yourself up over this isn’t gonna make either of us feel better. I don’t want you to grovel like a beaten dog. I just want you to be honest with me what’s going on in this thick head of yours.” Tapping on said thick head.

“Yeah, you fucking hurt me by just dropping me off in my flat and fucking off because you thought it was the right thing for both of us. I don’t need you to think for me. I just need you to talk to me.” Damn, I’m laying into him right now, but I fear otherwise I’m not gonna get through the thickheaded stubborness.

“I didn’t mean to go over your head like I did. I was too in my own head already, so it was the only thing that made sense to me.”, he says as calmly as he manages. “I thought it was the right thing for you.”

“Because you didn’t deserve me anyways and I would be better off with someone else, right?”, I summarize. I can’t help but sound a little bitter. And I realise now that that was the thing that hurt me the most.

He nods again.

I feel the jab in my heart. Not knowing what to say to that. It's not nice to have the person you're with express the sentiment that you should be with someone else. Well, it’s pretty fucking far from nice.

He casts his eyes down, fidgeting with his wristband, not daring to look at me. And I can practically feel his self-deprecation prickling at my fingertips, the hand still lying on his chest, clearer than ever before.

“I thought I would be selfish to have you wait for me. And I realised that the opposite is true. I was a coward, I just fucking ran away.”, he sighs, and I can hear the shame in his voice.

His hand clasps over mine, squeezing my fingers.

“You did.”, I simply say.

“And it didn’t fucking solve anything.” He laughs, a barking joyless laugh. “For the first time in a long time it was worse without someone else, you know.” He pauses for a moment, finally looking up at me again. You don't need to be Sherlock to know who he's talking about.

I nod, swallowing back my emotions again, squeezing his hand back. “And it didn’t have to be like this.”

“Fuck. I know, I just- wanna kick myself every time I think about it.” An exhausted and frustrated sigh rising up from deep in his chest. “I don't know what I can say to make it all okay again. I don't know what to tell you to-”

“Just show me.”, I interrupt him before he can go down that spiral. He stills

“I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear.” His hand grabs mine a bit tighter. Pulling it up to his face and pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

I nod, a little smile stalking onto my face. “Okay, good.”, I say, adding a “And don't ever say you're undeserving again.”

“I won't.”

“Thank you.” I lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips, and he answers it like it holds the promise he just made.

When I pull back, I don’t get far cause he is cradling my cheek, not letting me go anywhere.

“Did anybody ever tell you that it’s hot when you get all bossy like that?”, he whispers, a small grin forming on his face.

“Yeah?”, I say, tongue in cheek. “You like getting ripped to shreds?”

“Only by you, Hexe.” which makes me laugh. “But I deserved it too.”, he says.

“You did a little bit.”, I say graciously, and we both laugh.

We just stay like this for a while, holding hands, and I can take a deep breath feeling most of the weight drop away from me that I felt walking into the living room.

He turns to the side, his cheek pressing against my belly as his arms close around me, around my waist. As close as he can get.

I’m brushing his hair out of his face, playing with it. Massaging his neck and shoulders, softly caressing.

He almost falls asleep like that, and I don't think I’ve ever seen him so peaceful. Deep calm breaths. Not a wrinkle on his forehead as I brush over it with my thumb. His eyebrows are turned up. Not even a hint of a frown on his face.

He grabs my hand, pressing sweet kisses to my fingers. “Stay with me.”, he whispers. “Please.”

“You sure?”, I ask.

He nods, not letting go of me. “I just want my bed and you in it, like I dreamed about those last few weeks. So… please?”

And it finally sinks in that the break was just as painful for him as it had been for me. Because I dreamed of the same thing. “Okay.”

He doesn't need anything else, just gets up off the couch, picking me up as well.

I can't help the giggle rising up my throat when my legs close around his hips and my lips find his neck, kissing the sensitive spots, the ones that always make him shiver. My fingertips are digging into his shoulders. The soft lingering touches I know will get him riled up.

He hums. “Glad to see that your ass is still as bratty as before.”, he grumbles, but he can't hide the grin as he playfully places the tiniest spank on said butt.

“Never.”, I tell him before he kicks open the bed room and lies me down on the bed.

We both scramble to get rid of our clothes, pulling them off quickly. He crawls over me, his dick nudging against my pussy while he settles between my thighs and his lips land on mine. His long hair falls over me like a veil, the tips tickling my naked skin.

His hand drops down, his fingers rubbing over my clit as he pushes into me. Carefully enough. And I sigh taking him in.

His mouth is coasting over my neck, making me shiver as he kisses, nibbles and bites. Leaving marks where anyone can see. Licking the sensitive skin, his tongue drawing wet tracks over it. His heavy breath hitting the shell of my ear as he pulls my head back and sucks on the sensitive spot right beneath it.

My fingers are digging into his shoulders and back, his muscles, leaving my own marks with my nails. Dropping down further until I grab his asscheeks, pulling him into me.

He chuckles, pushing deeper, his thrusts picking up pace. I arch my back to meet his movements, my chest against his, the sensations making me throw my head back.

His hand catches my chin, and he’s telling me: “Look at me, Liebes, please just look at me.”

My eyes meet his, a satisfied deep hum rising up his throat. And I never felt more at the center of anybody's attention than in that moment.

He turns, and suddenly I’m on top, riding him, my hands placed on his hairy chest. Slowly sliding up and down his length. One of his arms around my waist, the other on my ass guides me. I almost can't handle it, the way he fills me up in this position, his tip nudging against my cervix. But fuck. I have missed this.

Not just the sex. The closeness. The familiarity. Him.

König looks up at me, the same look on his face that I have seen a few times today, the one that I still can’t quite place what it means. But I love when he looks at me like that. If the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest is any indication.

We spend the rest of the day in bed, talking, fucking, listening to music, sometimes almost dozing off. Until it’s late, almost a bit too late.

My head is resting against his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady, his legs entangled with mine. His burly tattooed arms embracing me, pulling me against him. His cheek resting atop my forehead with the way I’m nuzzled into the crook of his neck, so his hair is tickling me when he moves a bit.

His body all around me, with nowhere else to go.

I didn’t like sleeping like this ever before I got to know him. But I really don’t mind anymore. I really don’t.

When I open my eyes the next morning, I need a moment to catch up where I am. König’s bedroom. In his bed, the soft sheets against my naked skin. I stretch a little and turn to the side, expecting to find him still fast asleep. But I’m greeted with a smile on his face, his eyes on me. Wide awake already.

“Good morning, Liebes.”, he says softly, catching my hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, and I have to swallow to not instantly burst into tears.

“Hi.”, I answer, trying a little wobbly smile.

His hand shoots out and he caresses over my cheek. A simple gesture, one he did so many times before, but right now it has me crying again.

“Oh Liebes.”, he coos as he sees the tear rolling down my face.

“I swear, I don't wanna cry! I must be getting my period or something.”, I grumble while he presses kisses to my cheeks, softly kissing away the tears.

“I’m gonna make you laugh and come twice as much for every time you cried.”, he says, and the twinkle in his eyes tells me that he is joking, yet at the same time seeming earnest.

I break out in laughter. “That would be a lot of jokes and a lot of orgasms.”, I gasp out, wiping the wetness from my cheeks.

He leans down and gives me a kiss. “That’s okay. Cause I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls back a bit.

“Don't make any promises you can't keep.”, I say.

“I wouldn’t.”, he says, his voice serious and his gaze soft. “I promise.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“Now let me start with it. I already got a laugh out of you.”

“You insatiable man. Let me go get my teeth brushed first or-”

“No time!”, he exclaims, pulling away the blanket, to position himself between my legs.

I burst into laughter again, the sounds turning into moans when he pulls away my panties and puts his mouth on me.

“Another laugh… that means I need to keep up with the orgasms.”, he quips, mischief lighting up his eyes as his tongue dips into me.

I sigh, snuggling myself back into the comfy sheets, grinding my hips against his face. Meticulously he eats me out, getting all sloppy with it.

His hands are grabbing the swells of my ass, my legs over his shoulders, until he is buried between my thighs. They are littered with all the marks he left there. Faint bites and hickeys. And he’s leaving even more. Oh god, I missed them.

He spits once before his fingers push into me, soft squelching when he fills me up. I’m still a little sleepy, yawning once while I stretch. Meeting his movements and touches.

“Feels so good.”, I tell him, and a little smile forming on his lips as I look down at him.

“Yeah?”, he quips, his thumb rubbing over my clit while he fingerfucks me, slow and deliberately.

I barely can hold the eye contact, almost a little shy, although we did this what feels like a million times. “Yeah.”

He slips his fingers out of me, taking over with his mouth again. I feel the wetness on his fingers as he grabs my thigh again, his fingertips pressing into the plush.

In the time apart nothing had changed about this. It still feels like he has memorized every little part of me, which buttons to push to make me cry out.

His own moans and grunts give away just how much he enjoys this, and I don’t think I will ever get enough of him. Seeing how his hips restlessly move, almost fucking into the mattress, while his tongue dips into me, fucking into me, over and over again, it does something to me as well.

When he nips at my clit, I jolt, my hips lifting off the mattress, but he doesn’t let me go anywhere. Repeating the same move and I come on his face. My back arching, my fingers grabbing at the sheets, curses dropping from my lips.

With a deep breath I look at him again, the big man still very comfortable between my legs, his chin and lips glistening with moisture before he wipes it away.

“And that’s the first one.”, he says with a little grin, and I can’t help the little laugh.

I sit up and grab him. “Yeah, but it’s your turn now.”, I tell him as I pull him up to me, needing him closer.

A wry smile adorns his face. “I’m sorry, Liebes, I already...”

“You… what?”, I ask a little dumbfounded. Looking down while he sits back on his knees, his tummy all sticky, coated in his come. The sheets beneath him soiled, like he humped himself to completion spilling all over them, while eating me out. My jaw drops. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

This man. The lop-sided smirk, making him look younger than he is. The long hair all messy. Not ashamed in the slightest that he came like that, just eating me out.

“Just give me a few minutes, okay?” He grins down at me as he crawls over me. “And maybe a shower.”

“But I need to get to work!”, I tell him.

“Who said, you'll ever leave this house again?”

“König!”

“I’m keeping you.”, he says, like a definite statement, while he scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder.

“Brute.”, I say poutily while I can't hold back my giggles.

He just laughs, grabbing my ass as he carries me to the bathroom. “Gonna fuck you in the shower, two birds with one stone. Still need to make you come one more time.”, he lays out his plan.

And I could never say no to that, could I?

We manage to be on time though, even drinking a coffee in the kitchen together, and then he drives me to work.

He also picks me up again, not ready to spend any possible moment apart.

The stupidest biggest grin stalks onto my face when I head out of the office and see his car already parked, faint drum and bass sounds penetrating through. I run up to it and open the door, recognizing the song as Shadow of Intent’s ‘Oudenophobia’, one of the songs I showed him some time ago.

I get into the passenger seat, his hands already grabbing me before I’m properly sitting. Pressing his lips to mine in a kiss. The simple greeting turning into something else with the way he kisses me. Like he doesn’t want to let go.

“Hi.”, I finally manage to say, a little out of breath.

“Sorry, missed you all day.”, he whispers apologetically, backing off a bit, just looking at me.

“No, come back here.”, I say, my hand grabbing his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and I pull him down to me again for another kiss.

When he pulls back now, he’s grinning down at me. And I don’t need to tell him that I missed him too. He knows.

König straightens up in his seat, shifts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. (The only thing he ever pulls out of, really)

“What’s the plan for today, Prinzesserl?”, he asks me then.

“Oh oh, there is this new Asian fusion place that opened up a few weeks ago.”, I say. “I haven’t been yet.”

He pulls up his eyebrows. “Asian fusion?”

“Yes.”, I say. “They have all kinds of stuff from all over.”

“Spring rolls too?”

“I bet.” I grin up at him.

“Then let’s go.”, he says, the expression on his face mirroring mine.

I sit back, crossing my legs and snuggling into my seat. His hand lands on my thigh and mine clasps over it.

It’s like he never left. Well almost, at least.

And I know that not everything’s forgotten. It doesn’t work like that. My heart is content, but my mind is still catching up. Sometimes thinking about what he said when he left. The promises he made when he came back. Working out how this relationship between us will be from now on. Working with him on that, for both our sakes.

Because despite what happened and my efforts while he was gone... I still do love him.

And we both deserve it.

the whole story in the Masterlist

i'm sorry, i'm so in love with this man that isn't real :') (well, he is, in my mind)

[boredflautist]

quotes that keep me alive

"all the people are fake, they're made out of metal. But I like you, and that is not fake" -young royals

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world." -song of achilles

"No one ever says goodbye unless they want to see you again." -turtles all the way down

"I want to be with you. If we have to keep it a secret then... So be it, if thats the only way... But no more secrets between us. I love you" -young royals

"Why does the word 'love' from you hurt me so damn much?" -Only Friends

"I've always thought Ray was my 25th hour, my extra hour. But the truth is, everyone has the same 24 hours in a day. And within Ray's 24 hours, I'm not part of it. I'm not that special." -Only Friends

"If I'm gone, I won't be anyone's burden anymore, right?" -Only Friends

"You were wearing corduroy, acting like a poster boy" -poster boy by Lyn Lapid

"I would recognize you in total darkness, were you mute and I deaf. I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely, in different bodies, different times. And I would love you in all of this, until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion" -song of achilles

"Tell me every terrible thing that you ever did, and let me love you anyway" -edgar allan poe

"The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you... I can't breathe. I'm haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that that kiss will not become a scar. You are in my very soul, tormenting me... What can I do? I will do anything that you ask." -anakin skywalker

"If changin' my clothes would make you like me more, if changing my hair would make you care, then I'd grab the kitchen scissors and cut myself to slivers" -jigsaw by conan gray

"'Sorry' doesn't make up for everything you did to me." -heartstopper

"You were my brother Anakin. I loved you." -revenge of the sith

"The truth is what I make it. I could set the world on fire, and call it rain." -red queen

" But isn't it also that on some fundamental level we find it difficult to understand that other people are human beings in the same way that we are? We idolize them as gods or dismiss them as animals." -paper towns

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'I love you'" -somethin' stupid by frank sinatra

"Tell me it isn't true. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me I'm blind. Tell me you love me. " -shatter me

"I do want to be your friend. I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with. The one you take into your arms and into your bed and into the private world you keep trapped in your head. I want to be that kind of friend." -shatter me

"The truth is a painful reminder of why I prefer to live among the lies" -shatter me

"'Don't ask me questions you already know the answers to. Twice I've laid myself bare for you and all it's gotten me was a bullet wound and a broken heart. Don't torture me,' He says, meeting my eyes again. 'It's a cruel thing to do, even to someone like me.'" -shatter me

"Everything's a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win." -inheritance games

"The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive." -the last olympian "You think I didn't fight the same fight? I halfway convinced myself that as long as Avery was just a riddle or a puzzle, as long as I was just playing, I'd be fine. Well, joke's on me, because somewhere along the way, I stopped playing." -the Hawthorne legacy

"When you're ready, if you're ever ready, if it's going to be me - just flip that disk. Heads, I kiss you." His voice broke slightly. "Tails, you kiss me. And either way, it means something." -the Hawthorne legacy

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here" -william shakespeare

"But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all" -10 things I hate about you

"It's just like the novels, side characters end up alone" -footnote by conan gray

"You made us past tense," I said, my voice cracking, "not me." -betting on you

"Because when they write the history of my life, I want it to include you" -red white and royal blue

"My life is the crown, and yours is just politics, and I will not trade one prison for another" -red white and royal blue

"Or maybe it was when I realized the bruises on your neck were fingerprints and wanted to kill them all over again just so I could do it slowly. Maybe it was the first time I recklessly kissed you or when I realized I'm fucked because I can't stop thinking about doing more than just kissing you. Does it even matter when, as long as it changed between us?" -fourth wing

"Oh darling all of the cities lights, never shined as bright as your eyes" -car's outside by james arthur

"I would rather lose this entire war than live without you, and if that means I have to prove myself over and over again, then I'll do it. You gave me your heart and I'm keeping it." -iron flame

"Because pain in the body quiets the pain in your head. It feels good - like a kill switch for your brain" -kill switch

"Then take your punishment like the pathetic creature that you are" -cruel prince

"Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop." -cruel prince

"If you're the sickness, I suppose you can't also be the cure." -the wicked king

"I hate you. I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else." -the wicked king

"Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can." -the wicked king

"She is my wife," Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. "The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile." -the queen of nothing

"By you, I am forever undone." -the queen of nothing

"Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you just. Just come home." -the queen of nothing

"I wasted all those yesterdays and am completely out of tomorrows" -they both die at the end

"For what it's worth, I doubt I will ever like anyone else in the world as much as I like you." -book lovers

"I'd never thought about my favorite color before. It never seemed important. Not until I looked into a pair of ocean-blue eyes and realized that perhaps drowning was a beautiful thing" -powerless

<3

if you've made it to the end good god please get some sleep

[spicyllewyn]

When you walk away.

Moon system x F ! Reader.

"When you walk away, Cut me open, take my heart So we'll never be apart Don't you let it go to waste."

Tags & warnings. NSFW, NON-CONSENSUAL. (+18)

Word count. 2.5k

Summary. You, literally, physically, cannot break with your boyfriends. (Inspired by the reddit story.)

The 4 of you were in tune, just as you had been throughout your entire relationship. Steven, Marc, and Jake were aware that this would happen at some point or another, much to their liking sooner rather than later, but sometimes there's not much you can do. Sometimes, being the keyword.

As time passed, your patience dwindled little by little. Cleaning Jake's wounds, comforting Steven's nightmares, and picking up the broken pieces of Marc's fits of anger became 'too much' when you realized that you were the one living with pain silently most of the time.

It wasn't their fault, you were aware of that, you couldn't deny that they loved you, and you didn't have the strength to lie to yourself about it, but you also knew that there was no way they would rid themselves of the title of vigilante. Khonshu didn't let them go, but they didn't fight as much as you would like either.

The sound of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and one last time Marc's exhausted expression caused a stir in your heart. You gave him a small smile, and he, seeing that strange expression, knew that the day had come.

"What are you doing awake?" He closed the door behind him.

"I was waiting for you." When your body shifted to one side of the couch, there was space for him beside you. Marc understood, the couch creaked under his weight, he was right at the corner of it, raising his arm to the backrest to be able to touch your shoulder with his fingers in a loving gesture. "We need to talk."

He nodded silently, his breath hitched but he managed to disguise it for you.

"I can't do this anymore, Marc." Your voice broke when you said his name, and he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as if trying to convey the strength you needed to continue. "I love you but I think this isn't the best for either of us."

He nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek.

"I understand." He didn't make a scene, he didn't raise his voice, and he didn't plead, and even though the tears trapped in his eyes portrayed the real pain he felt, you knew he loved you too much to make this harder for you.

Marc would never turn the knife that he had already stabbed you with when he agreed to be in a relationship with you. He pulled your wrist and with a push, he brought you against his chest where you cried for a good 10 minutes until his voice caught your attention.

"I'm going to leave, okay?"

"You don't have to do it, not now." You checked the time on his watch; he still had an arm around you. "It's late."

"I need to be alone." His lips occasionally brushed against your hair, small kisses that carried the scent of your shampoo. "Please."

This time it was your turn to nod silently.

Your bodies broke the hug, and both of you felt the cold of the night hit you like a truck. You watched with crossed arms as he removed Steven and Jake's posters from the walls; he never liked putting up decorations of that kind.

He packed up what he could in some boxes, books, clothes, even a picture frame with a photo of both of you, he loaded everything into Jake's car.

He took your cheeks one last time, and you enjoyed the taste of mint in his mouth, those chewing gums he used to try to relax his anxiety, those that never worked. When Marc left, you sent a couple of messages to acquaintances to break the news because you had been together for so long that your partner could already be considered part of your family and your group of friends; you received some immediate responses.

Mostly words of encouragement, regretting that things hadn't worked out.

You went to sleep in a cold, lonely bed, but with a strange sensation, as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had the chance to start over, to live a life with fewer worries.

Things could get better.

Steven's late-night podcast woke you up around 10 in the morning on Saturday, accompanied by a delicious scent of waffles; you knew it was him because the coconut aroma always prevailed in his vegan breakfasts.

Without opening your eyes, you complained to yourself. Were they trying to change your mind now? You were ready to argue.

The feeling of discomfort caught your breath in your lungs when you opened your eyes and saw the posters back on the wall. Looking down was also a surprise; you were wearing one of Steven's shirts, your favorite for sleeping.

You could swear Marc had taken it the day before along with many of his things.

"Love?" Steven's smile slowly faded when you appeared in the kitchen, an uncomfortable expression on your face. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?" He stopped what he was doing to walk up to you, his delicate touch landing on your cheeks just as Marc had done the night before, squeezing them to get your attention.

"I think... mhm." You let him interrupt you with a kiss. "I had a bad dream." Or at least, that's what you were trying to convince yourself. There was no other explanation for this happening.

"Sorry for leaving you alone in bed, I was starving." He looked genuinely concerned as his forehead rested against yours. "I made waffles for you; I know they're your favorites."

You spent the morning with him, and Steven being as affectionate as always didn't surprise you; that simply was Steven's personality. As the day went on, you understood that you had only experienced an extremely lucid dream, so you would have to go through this again somehow.

While your boyfriend rested his head on your lap, you stretched just a bit to grab your phone, which lit up with a message arrival, and you took the opportunity to check one last time that you weren't going crazy. You scrolled through all the messages, and there was none talking about breakups or anything close; in fact, your last message had been sent to their shared phone, you saying you missed them without receiving a response.

Your other hand, almost by inertia, played with Steven's curls as you searched for any sign that told you that the previous night had indeed happened.

Nothing.

"Are you okay?" He mumbled sleepily; apparently, your fingers had tensed in his hair.

"Mhm." You swallowed hard. You couldn't do this again; it felt like a cruel joke of life. "Can we talk? Please?"

Very much against his will, he straightened his back and faced you. Those beautiful brown eyes with dark circles underneath looked at you with as much admiration as they always had, his fingers intertwined with yours, and his thumbs stroked your hands.

"What's wrong, love?"

"We can't be together anymore." It was better if you did it bluntly, as if ripping off a band-aid all at once rather than doing it slowly.

His expression gradually fell, tears filled his eyes, his brow furrowed, and a small pout appeared on his lips. His fingers slowly tightened around yours.

Your hands hurt from the way he clung to you.

"Steven, you're hurting me." You sobbed too when you saw him cry openly. When you stood up, he fell to his knees in front of you without letting go. If only your dream had been real; going through this was hurting your heart twice as much as you had ever imagined.

Another reminder that Marc and Steven were not the same person.

"Sorry, I-I'm sorry." He stuttered as you helped him to his feet. He released your hands to hug you against his chest, almost cutting off your breath with the suddenness of his movements. "I'm sorry, love."

Sorry for what? He hadn't done anything wrong in the relationship; not all breakups arose from mistakes on either side, sometimes things just didn't work out, and that was it.

He, internally, knew very well why he was apologizing to you.

"I need to be alone, Steven." You whispered when you felt him hiccup against you in pain; his shirt you were wearing felt damp by now at shoulder level.

You gently pushed him back by the chest, and he took a step back, still trembling.

"I... Y-yeah, of course, I... understand." He forced himself to take a step back.

"Jake's car keys are where they always are." With heaviness, you had to turn your back on him, or you knew he would never leave. You could feel his brown orbs glued to you for just a few seconds before the slam of the door made you startle.

You ran your hands over your face in desperation. Facing it a second time had been worse, but things were done, fortunately, and you could talk about it better later, or at least that's what you hoped, when he felt calmer.

You sent messages giving the news, unlike your dream, this time it was a way to beg that no one asked about Jake, Marc, or Steven. You didn't have the strength.

A pair of arms tightened around you strongly causing you to groan in the middle of your sleep. You snapped your eyes open, feeling suffocated by the pressure.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You slurred as you struggled to get out of his grip.

“What's wrong, princesa?” He growled lowly as he pulled you tighter against him. He raised his head a little so he could look at you. He had barely one eye open, and thus he managed to look confused.

“Let go of me, Jake!” You were noticeably upset, his arms seemed to enclose you with increasing force as if he didn't notice that you were on the verge of a panic attack. The previous few hours hadn't been a dream, you were sure.

Your back hit his chest and you felt his breath on your neck.

“Wasn't one round enough for you?" His hips collided with yours to give emphasis to his words. “Do you want me to get you tired, amor?” One of his arms continued to take your breath away while his right hand moved down your body, stopping at one of your tits, squeezing it with his fingers almost in a playful way before continuing to crawl downwards, heading between your legs.

“Let go of me, I don't even know what the fuck you're doing here.”

Your voice cracked, breaking his heart.

But not as much as it would break him to let you go.

“I live here, tontita.” His fingers were rubbing against your pussy lips slowly. Up and down, forcing you to open your legs a little more.

“Jake, please.” Your eyes were filled with tears. This was a horrible nightmare.

“Shh, be a good girl for me, okay? I had a long day.”

You didn't even put in any strength. You didn't have it anymore. As his fingers played with you, his hips pushed against your ass, over and over, rubbing his boner against you.

He was going to admit it, even he couldn't imagine being attracted to the idea of ​​something like this. But after your attempts to escape, this felt like a way to reaffirm that you belonged to him.

“Look how wet you are, did you miss me?” When he got tired of his fingers doing the work he forced them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

Steven's shirt that you again didn't remember wearing made his job easier, only pushing aside your panties to insert his cock deep inside your being in a single thrust. And you no longer knew if you were sobbing from pleasure or fear.

You didn't remember him being so rough to you before. With one push he flipped you onto your stomach with him crushing your entire body, where he could thrust more comfortably with a handful of your hair tangled in his fingers.

You heard the bed creak, his gasps, and you felt your face wet from your saliva and tears filling your pillow.

“Fuck, that's just w-what I needed.” He was using you. You could recognize it, sex between you always meant pleasure for both of you, now he seemed to be using you as a thing where to leave his cum.

Between tears and kicking, deep down, you knew you were liking it.

He didn't last long, not right when he discovered how much he liked taking you this way. You slept with him next to you, with his sperm running down your legs and wishing this too had just been a dream.

You didn't search for them around the apartment the following morning; as soon as you got up, you ran straight to grab a suitcase, if you didn't escape your own damn mind was going to drive you crazy.

Three days had been enough to make it difficult for you to differentiate between reality and your lucid dreams or whatever it was you were experiencing. You bumped into Marc as you exited the room.

"Woah, what's going on?"

You didn't even respond to him; you couldn't even look him in the face after what they had done to you.

"Move!" You pushed him as hard as you could, grabbing your phone, which for the third time had not a single message about the breakup.

"Sweetheart?"

"How the hell dare you ask me what's wrong!?" You were shattered, your mind, your body, you. "Last night, Jake... "

"Huh?" He interrupted you with a furrowed brow. "We just got here, sweetheart."

No, no, no, no, he was lying to you.

He had to be lying to you. You wanted to wipe that confused expression off his face with punches and tear off the hand he was using to point at Jake's car keys in their place.

You put them there; he just threw them wherever when he arrived.

And truth be told, when you looked down between your legs, you were almost too clean.

You were going crazy.

"Fuck off, Marc." Erratically, you ripped the charger off your phone from the wall and almost ran to the front door as if he were chasing you. Which clearly he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't doing anything except looking confused. "You and Steven and Jake, leave me alone."

The slam of the door made you feel free, as did the car horns and sounds of street vendors.

That night, you searched for the farthest motel you could find; you kept your phone off after sending messages to acquaintances assuring them you were okay but didn't feel comfortable sharing your location with them at the moment.

Ah, and at least you had a good night's sleep, after a long time.

“Pancakes or waffles?”

Steven's voice made you snap your eyes open. Your head was on his arm, and you felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against your back.

Tears filled your eyes when you recognized the place around you.

Your home.

When your sobs reached your boyfriend's ears, you immediately felt him place a kiss on your shoulder.

"What's wrong, honey? Did you have a bad dream?"

:)

[respectthepetty]

I'm not over it!

Ishida openly stating that he wanted to do something more than just hug Mitsuya, but he didn't want to take advantage of the situation has been replaying in my head all day.

Ishida admitted his family is affectionate, so the fact that he has held himself back from touching Mitsuya, from comforting Mitsuya, from holding Mitsuya for so long until the exact moment he no longer could has been replaying in my head all day.

And it's because Ishida asked Mitsuya if he saw him as an adorable boy or as a man because he needs Mitsuya to see him as a man, so Mitsuya's immediate defense is to reject Ishida by calling him a kid.

Then he brings up Ishida's dating history.

Mitsuya is saying this with a hint of sorrow, but all of this is actually very cruel!

He knows Ishida likes him. Ishida has made that clear. He knows Ishida likes him even in a very physical sense. Ishida just made that clear. So for Mitsuya to immediately tell Ishida he is a "good kid" who he implies is just going through a phase is hurtful, AND HE KEEPS GOING!

Mitsuya offers up solid reasons for them not to go further: society's views on their age difference. Yet Mitsuya does not frame it that way. He starts with "if I had a son like you." He is, once again, establishing Ishida is a child, and even more insulting, he is making Ishida *his* child, which quickly diminishes any other type of relationship existing between them.

Mitsuya isn't just rejecting Ishida, he is pushing him away by drawing a deep line based on Ishida's insecurity. They can never work because Mitsuya is an old man, and Ishida is a child.

The only time Mitsuya's fully looks Ishida in his face throughout this entire scene is when he tells Ishida he cannot come there anymore.

He holds himself for the rest of his delivery as his arms act as a stand-in for Ishida's hug, but they can't replace the warmth that Ishida gives. And Mitsuya's know that.

Mitsuya called Ishida. Mitsuya wanted Ishida to be there. Mitsuya didn't want Ishida to leave. But now faced with Ishida's physical desire for him, Mitsuya lashes out. It doesn't feel that way at first. It comes across that Mitsuya is thinking of Ishida and his future, but Mitsuya is afraid. His desire for Ishida to be in his life scares him. This is Mitsuya's problem.

This whole episode has been about Frito, but it isn't about Frito. Not really.

Mitsuya has stated he was reckless with other men's hearts, and Mitsuya got Frito as a distraction after his heart was broken. As much as his last relationship hurt him, Mitsuya never experienced love until he got Frito. At least not at this level. He stated that he could live happily for the rest of his life in that house with Frito and nothing else.

But, again, this isn't really about Frito. Ishida was a distraction like all the editors and guests who come to Mitsuya's house. He makes them food, and they leave, but somehow, Ishida was different.

And now Mitsuya wants Ishida around. He worries about him. He thinks about him. He needs him. And that is too much for Mitsuya because what would he do if he lost Ishida? If his last breakup was bad even with all the turmoil, imagine how bad this soft and kind love would hurt? If he feels this way now, how would he feel after a few months or even years? What would he do if he lost Ishida after giving him his heart?

So he doesn't. He turns his back to Ishida. He throws subtle insults. He stops it before it starts.

And the camera lingers.

I truly thought Ishida would walk back in because the camera made me believe he would.

But he didn't.

Mitsuya dismissed him, and like a good kid, Ishida did as he was told.

Which is why for the first time in a long time, I need to see a Japanese BL boy run toward his heart. Ishida respects Mitsuya which is why he left, but Ishida also proved Mitsuya right. Ishida will do as he is told. If Ishida's family disapproves, he will do as he is told. If society tells Ishida this isn't right, he will do as he is told. Ishida continued baseball even when he knew he no longer loved it because his family had put so much into his dream. Ishida is a good kid who always thinks of others before he thinks about himself. He even told Mitsuya to go to Paris if that would make him happy when it would have destroyed Ishida.

So it's time for Ishida to be a man and follow his heart. He began this journey by transferring into the sports editor position. He hugged Mitsuya even when Mitsuya told him to stop. And now he needs to run after Mitsuya even though Mitsuya is pushing him away.

Noguchi, climbing through windows and over walls and sneaking through doors, makes sense now.

Shige said Mitsuya was always like this, useless in romance. Mitsuya puts up walls that men have to climb. He closes doors that men have to open. And he shuts off his heart.

So Ishida needs to be a man and stay even when he is told to go instead of an obedient child who leaves.

Ishida needs to keep going even when he is told to give up.

Frito made Mitsuya into the adult he is today by teaching him how to care for others, but Ishida is going to make Mitsuya understand what it means to be cared for.

Ishida will be a great partner because he will be the man who runs home to the guy he loves.

But, first, he has to stop being such a damn good kid.

[mintkookiess]

It's Always Been Her.

A/N before anything else: Hey there I'm Mint! I finally got the guts to actually post something instead of keeping it in my private blog sue me (╯•﹏•╰)

Felt a bit angsty today and I've been practicing more on my writing so, I decided why not post it

Please also note the characters here are aged up, none are minors, and Miles and our dear lovely fem!reader here are old enough to live together (Feel free to think up what age you want esp since there isn't really an age stated her). Plus, this has only been proof-read like twice and ran through grammarly once, hope it turned out okay still with the grammar and typos ಥ‿ಥ

Anyways enough about that, you can go ahead! Hearts and reblogs are appreciated

(Pls be nice ty)

Love,

Mint

P.S. AO3 saw it first here!

Summary: Y/n finds Miles comforting his ex girlfriend Gwen in their home.

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Miles Morales x Fem!Reader Slight mention of blood (those are paper cuts I promise), angst (no happy ending babe), heartbreak, cutting up onions .°(ಗ д ಗ。)°.

"Y/n...?" Miles looked as if he had just seen a ghost, "How long have you been—" She hadn’t even realized how she stood by the door, crying with her mouth covered, her other hand clutching her aching chest, until he noticed her.

"Miles..." Y/n managed to choke out, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at her supposed lover Miles, comforting Gwen on the floor of their shared home's living room. Her eyes were filled with absolute sorrow, betrayal, hurt, anger, and anguish all rolled into one. She stood there helplessly, feet seemingly glued to the ground even if her brain has been telling her to run.

But she couldn't seem to look away or move a single inch as the tears continued to flow down like a stream down her cheeks that have turned pale from shock. Miles was rendered speechless, he had never seen Y/n like this, and he hadn't seen her cry much either.

"Y/n..." He said with a weak voice, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he slowly unwrapped his arms from Gwen, standing up to take a step towards her. He knew he should come to her, to hug her, comfort her, tell her it's okay but he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. His hands trembled as he looked into her eyes. Y/n could see the fear and regret in them.

"What... What are you doing with her?" She croaked, still in a tone that made her voice sound like the harsh cold wind of winter. Y/n had watched Miles comfort Gwen for the past thirty minutes, and all she could do was see how vulnerable they were to each other, how Miles' comforting voice that felt so much like caramel soothed his ex-girlfriend who had been weeping like a deer in his chest.

It was another sense of betrayal and hurt, a whole new level of pain that Y/n couldn't even begin to explain. No words could describe how... broken she felt.

"She's... She's having.." he started, before pausing, trying to configure the right words to say to her—"She's having a hard time right now." He finally finished, his voice sounding weak. All Y/n did was stare right at him, tears still rolling down her eyes.

Seeing her cry made him want to do anything—to hug her, comfort her, and just say “Everything’s fine. I'm sorry, please stop crying, I love you." Miles didn't know what to do, it seemed as if he couldn't stop her from crying and it broke him.

Y/n started to let out small sobs from her lips that had dried and cracked from letting out so many tears. Her hands crept up to her face, trying to see if she could wake up from this dream that's become her new hell.

She was shaking her head slightly, shoulders sagging more and more as she felt all her patience thin out like paper. "You promised... You told me that you don't talk to her anymore." Y/n said slowly, her words slightly muffled from her hands.

Oh, how she tried so hard to not have her voice crack, even though she could hear her heart break into a million pieces per second.

Upon hearing her words, Miles visibly flinched. He looked down at his feet as if he was suddenly ashamed of himself. His head tilted back up to her, his eyes filled with shame. Miles stood there frozen, a few feet away from her, unable to bring himself to approach or move a single inch.

It was as if he wanted to make it up to her, but he was too scared, too fearful of what would happen. "Y/n..." The way he said her name was like it was a silent prayer, a plea. "I'm... sorry..."

After a few more tears, she removed her hands from her face. Her head hung low, but her eyes looked up at Miles with newly found determination and courage but still with a tinge of fear and hurt.

"You still love her."

Her words itself may have downright punched her heart as she could feel it gets beaten up and shatter, falling to the depths of her very soul. She didn't want to utter what she had been thinking since she saw the way Miles comforted Gwen with so much love that she thought was only reserved for her. Y/n feared that once she said it out loud, it would become real.

But deep down she knew that this had become her reality, whether she said it or not.

Miles felt like he was stabbed at every syllable, how deep her words wounded him. Yet he had to admit that the truth in what she said made them all the more gut-wrenching.

He looked away from her, trying to gather some little courage before facing Y/n once more. Miles' brown eyes bore into hers, two pairs of eyes containing remorse, regret, and betrayal. "Yes..." He finally answered, the weight of his guilt dragging every word down with him.

The second he confirmed her statement, it was as if her vision went black. "Thank you... for your honesty." Was all she could say.

Y/n's feet may weigh a thousand pounds right now, but she forced herself, dragging herself out the door. The only thing that she could think of was that she had to get away.

To run.

To hide.

To go to a place where Miles wouldn't find her.

His simple “ yes “ reply was enough to tell her that she was no longer wanted or needed. She felt herself to be a burden, someone holding back Miles from truly loving Gwen. Even though he had made promises to her, that he'd keep his and Y/n's relationship safe and out of harm.

As she started to walk away, Miles' heart severed apart with each step she took. He had never felt so lost, so scared, as he did right now. He hasn't even spared Gwen a glance behind him as he tried to take another step towards the direction Y/n disappeared to.

She walked away from him and he could only watch. All he wanted was to ask her to stay, to forgive him. He didn't want to lose Y/n, but he was too scared to act, fearing that it would make matters worse than it already was.

If that was even possible.

Y/n turned right towards their shared bedroom, her eyes sticking to the ground because she refused to take in the sight of the many pictures of her and Miles scattered around the walls and tables of the bedroom.

She made a beeline to the closet, pulled out luggage, and just threw in all the clothes she owned, every accessory in their shared drawers, and every perfume that decorated the vanity.

Y/n was slowly removing every trace of her in the bedroom.

Once she was done, she zipped the luggage close, and stomped to their framed pictures, their polaroids that were clipped to the walls, everything that had the both of them in it, and started throwing them across the tiled floor. She didn't let out a single scream, letting the picture frames break to make all the noise for her as she couldn't let out any noise.

Every time it shattered against the polished floor, her heart broke along with it.

Y/n continued to break and rip every picture, tears streaming hot down her cheek, dripping off her chin, and staining the dissipated pictures and smashed frames by her feet.

Miles stood there, his heart in his throat, hearing the sounds of glass smashing and wooden picture frames hitting the floor. He didn't move, though it hurt to hear that, and seeing the pictures being destroyed hurt even more.

He knew he should do something, he knew he should call out to her—but he was too much of a coward. He watched her destroy everything that held memories of their now-broken relationship.

Once everything was laid out on the floor either broken or ripped to shreds, Y/n fell to her knees, her hands covered in deep cuts as it started to bleed out from how hard her grip was while smashing the frames and destroying the pictures.

But she could only stare, her soulless eyes glazing over her two hands that had so much resemblance to her emotional and mental state. All wounded and cut up, bleeding for the whole world to see.

Her fingers shook ever so slightly, her perfectly manicured nails were now tinted a crimson shade from her blood, and all she could do was stare.

She didn't even feel any pain.

Miles finally snapped out of it, letting out a pained gasp as he sees her lacerated hands. He knew he had to do something and so he tried to walk to her, taking each step as if they were as heavy as lead weights. "Y/n... please... stop... you've hurt yourself..." He said as tears made their way down his face once again.

It was as if Y/n didn't hear him even though she did. She refused to respond, picking up the little pieces of the pictures she destroyed and examining them with her bloodied hands.

Every picture she saw, each one was of them that stared back at her with wide smiles. So much life, so much love and passion.

Now look at them. Look at how they ended up.

It was so pathetic that she thought it was laughable. How could their picture-perfect relationship turn into something so hideous, so ugly? Her mind was on constant replay of the way Miles' arms were wrapped around Gwen, whispering sweet nothings to her as she cried uncontrollably against him.

"Why did you do this to us Miles? We were doing so good..." She muttered. Y/n's face no longer held any sadness or... Any emotion. She was just there, kneeling on the floor with her cut-up hands and body staying still like she became a doll devoid of feelings.

"Y/n—" He started, his voice quiet and unsure. Miles continued to inch closer and closer to her, though it was clear he did so with caution. "I know that right now it may be hard for you to believe me, but... I'm sorry... I didn't mean for things to go this far I swear..." Miles whispered with quivering lips. He was trying so hard to remain composed, but he could feel his emotions overflow and take over his entire body.

He continued towards her until he was inches in front of Y/n, his heart practically beating out of his chest and with hands that were mad trembling.

"Y/n... Please don't leave me..." His voice convulsed in guilt. Miles knelt to be at her eye level, to beg for her forgiveness. He didn't care that the frame shards were probing his knees. He eyed her injured hands, reaching his hands toward her as if he was trying to stop her from leaving him forever.

But he could sense it. They both could. It was the end for the two of them.

Y/n was too tired, too exhausted to push his hands away. She remained in her spot as she felt walls around herself build-up, her soul fading further away from reality, causing her to be numb. Her eyes drifted to the hands that belonged to him, she couldn't help but remember how these same hands were the place she called her safe space for so many years.

Now, she thinks of it as the hands that had ruined her ruined them.

She sees the hands that had comforted someone who wasn't her, another girl who wasn't even supposed to be in their lives anymore. "Go to her Miles..." She whispered weakly, still refusing to look at him.

Miles' breath hitched, and his face paled at the words that came out of her mouth. "Y/n... no..." he tried to say something, to make her stay, anything. There were so many words on his tongue that he wished to utter out, but he didn't have the courage or strength to say a single one.

He wanted to say how much he loved her, but he knew that Y/n was drifting further away from him with each passing second.

So Miles did the only thing he could and stared at her, with a face frozen with shame and fear.

His words slowly snapped her out of her trance, like a spell that seemed to have awoken her back to reality.

She slowly pushed herself up, wiping down her hands on her skirt to remove the remaining blood that hadn't dried out. Her e/c eyes finally looked down at Miles, kneeling before her.

Y/n felt her blood boil at how pathetic he looked. She wondered how he could look in such a way when he was the one at fault, who practically shredded their relationship into pieces the moment he let Gwen inside their home.

"Go to her Miles," She repeated with a more stern voice. Her breathing started to become heavier with all the anger inside of her threatening to spill over. "That's what you wanted anyway right?" Y/n said a bit louder now. "It's her! It's always been fucking her right?!" She was yelling, each word leaving a strain on her throat and a bad taste on her tongue.

Her hands balled into fists, feeling the sting of her nails digging into her new cuts and wounds but she didn't give two shits about it right now.

The fire in her eyes scared Miles. He started to hyperventilate, his chest tightening and feeling his lungs scream in search of air. Her voice was laced with so much malice and hatred that it scared him. “Y/n, please... I—" His words were getting tangled, and they were sounding more and more like a mess.

"It's always been her. No matter how many fucking times I tried to be perfect for you, to be the best woman for you. It was never fucking enough because I WASN'T HER!" Y/n cried out, her hand clutching her chest so hard that she thought she would dig into her skin and her heart would bleed out.

She was heaving alongside him, their chests rising up and down in sync. Her every word tasted sour to her like each syllable was a dart of poison that was stabbing her insides and gutting her out. Miles flinched as her words pierced through him.

It was his fault, and he knew it. It hurt him to see the person he had come to love, hate him. He knew he deserved the anger, the hate, and he just felt himself hit rock bottom.

How could he do that to her?

To destroy her trust?

Gwen had wanted to talk to him about something and started telling him about her problems. He wanted to be there for her, but not realizing that he was jeopardizing his relationship with Y/n until it was too late. Some of his heart still belonged to Gwen, but god did he wish it didn't.

"Well, you should be fine now though, right? You can go back to her because I'm leaving." Y/n said with a newfound calm tone. She walked past him to grab her luggage, wincing in pain from her wounds as she pulled them out of their bedroom, leaving Miles in the heap of ripped-up pictures and broken frames.

She also walked past Gwen who was sitting silently in the living room.

She tried to approach Y/n, but the wounded girl was quick to walk out the door, slamming it behind her as she disappeared into the night, leaving the place she'd called theirs for the last five years.

But now, it wasn't her home anymore.

Fin.

See more of my Miles content here babes!

(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 1

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Next Word Count: 1.8k Also on AO3

There is not a word to describe the overwhelming sense of anguish that invades your body as soon as you lay down on bed. The tears keep burning their way down your cheeks, unrelenting ever since you first stepped into the apartment. You blindly reach up for a pillow, hugging it close to your chest as if that could calm the emptiness consuming your heart. Even breathing is getting more and more difficult, the air not reaching your lungs as you keep sobbing uncontrollably. 

“No puedo más (I can't do this anymore)" you cry into the pillow, voice rough with sadness. Curling in on yourself as you close your eyes, the pressure that has been building up inside your chest getting to a point that is unbearable. Your fingers digging into the pillow with such force they hurt, while sobs keep your whole body.

There is no saying how many hours pass by until you finally fall asleep, cheeks sticky with tears and lips bitten raw. Finally, a moment of rest after this nightmare of a year, a streak of sleepless night broken by sheer exhaustion. 

Although you can feel yourself letting go of your consciousness, the fire in your heart does nothing but grow. Your breath picks up the pace mere seconds later as well, seemingly following the rhythm of your heart, which has started beating like it will break out of your ribcage any minute now. You try to calm yourself down, mind floating in a strange limbo that you cannot escape. What is happening? Why can’t you open your eyes? You can feel them moving behind your eyelids, trembling from the effort. Actually, you belatedly notice, it is your whole body that is shaking with tremors. You attempt turning around or moving in whichever way you can, desperately trying to get out of this half-conscious state. Still, that plan quickly backfires, every single muscle on your body is tensed up and locked on position, it hurts to even think of stretching them. 

Suddenly, a bright light starts shining with such force that you can feel it heating your face. Although your first guess is that you have slept through the whole night and the sun is finally coming to save from this awful dream, as its power keeps increasing, you realize how wrong you are. It feels like a spotlight is being pointed right at your face, the brightness so powerful that your eyes are burning even though they are closed. You seek protection under your hands, your pillow, anything, but your body is still refusing to obey your orders. 

The sounds at the back of your mind start gaining prominence as you fight to wake up. It had started as a beeping noise, but as your anxiety grows, you realize there is something else. Screams, claps, music,… 

And then, it all comes crashing. 

Your eyes forcefully open at once, blinded by sunlight and moving side to side in complete distress. There are voices and noises coming from all directions, but it is impossible for you to understand anything, the sounds echoing as if you were trapped under water. You try to move around and feel your surroundings, where is the bed? Where am I? However, before you can do as much as stretch your hand forward, something collides with your body in full force. The impact makes you lose your balance, the realization that you are actually standing up being too vague for your still woozy brain to process. A pair of arms come to envelop your body, keeping you upright and even lifting you up in the air at some point. 

The words have become clearer now that you are regaining consciousness. “That was amazing!” “A fucking P10, oh my god” “You were flying out there” the screams accompanied with irregular bangs that keep bouncing off your head. 

What is happening? 

Head filled with the worst ever case scenarios and fear flowing through your body like thunders, you break down. There is no use in standing around and politely asking who the fuck are they and how have they entered your house. Your mind is running wild with possibilities. So, with your voice coming straight from your heart and those awful feelings taking control over your body, you start screaming and trashing around like a mad woman. Feet kicking everything and everyone that dare coming close to you. 

Unexpectedly, you are released without having to put much of a fight. The sudden lack of support leaving you to fall down to your knees, legs too numb to do anything to stop it. That seems to not only surprise you, but also those around you, the yelling dying down after that. Now the only thing filling your ears is the erratic beating of your heart and the distant music. The tears do accompany you yet again, feelings swarming your mind with such force that you feel out of breath. That fight or flight mode you were hopping would save you is promptly drowned by them, a nervous attack building inside your chest so powerfully that it leaves you frozen in place. 

“Hey, calm down, it's okay” someone shushes you, a pair of hands coming to rest on top of your shoulders with such care that you do not notice them at first, too focused on trying to even out your breath. It is only when your head is suddenly pulled forward, that a panicked gasp breaks out of your lips, hands flying up to grasp at your head that feels like it is being pulled out of your body. 

But instead, what you feel is the rough scratching of fabric over your cheek and something that bumps into your nose. What-? 

That awful sensation of being underwater is instantly relieved when whatever had been covering your head slides right off it. You first thought is that someone must have put some sort of fabric over your head to restrict your vision, that this people have broken into your house and tried to get you out of the way, but when you see a light blue helmet being taken from you, you can only stare at it open mouthed. 

Your field of vision has finally been cleared up, and for better or for worse, your surroundings have also been discovered before you. The helmet is the center of it all, being held by a man dressed in a weird bright orange jumpsuit that would stand out anywhere but even more so in this situation. Who is he? His worried-filled eyes are making you feel so uncomfortable that you cannot hold his gaze for more than a second, it is like they are trying to dig into your mind and fix whatever is scaring you right this second, but how can he when he is the main culprit? 

Well, not only him, but there is also a group of at least 20 men surrounding you, all of their eyes set on your trembling form. Your anxiety increases by the second, gaze flying everywhere as the sound of your heartbeat rings on your ears. You cannot recognize this place or anyone for that matter, where are you? This is not your bedroom. What happened? 

The man in front of you claims your attention once again, his hand reaching up for your arm as his lips move without making a single noise. You want to stop him, back away and put some space between the two of you until you figure out who the fuck he is. And yet, you remain completely still, your body pulling you down like dead weight. Even the muscles on your chest seem to have been locked in place, the air stuck on your throat as your mouth gapes open. His hand comes up to cradle your face when he notices, the heat of it comforting even though his expression is filled with concern. He talks and talks, the words not registering on your woozy mind since you cannot concentrate in anything but how heavy your eyelids feel. 

The man quickly catches those signs, his eyebrows furrowing as he tries to shake you out of it. He also seems to call for help, because yet another face pops into view, their expressions matching. But it is too late. 

That is the last thing you see before once again falling into the darkness. 

A sigh passes by through your parted lips, body melting into the soft bed sheets. It feels a bit too hot under the covers, the fabric sticking to your skin uncomfortably as you sleepily move around. 

Stretching your muscles feels wonderful after hours of uninterrupted sleep. The sun seems to still be down, the room drowned in complete darkness as you turn on your side to get a better hold of the pillow. Your alarm has also not rung yet which means that there is still some time to laze around. 

However, before you can get a hold of that precious sleep you have been chasing, a few knocks on the door come to wake you up. 

With a groan, you sit yourself on the middle of the bed, hands covering your face as you try to keep yourself upright. Who could be outside? It is not like you have invited someone over and forgot, right? God knows you are not in the best condition for a visit right now, did you even put your pyjamas on last night? Cannot remember.... You have not ordered anything lately either. 

Rather than giving up at the lack of response, the person outside starts banging harder on the door, the noise fully waking you up. You decide to get out of bed and attend whatever is so urgent, body screaming in disapproval as you drag yourself out of it. 

Maybe you should have noticed something was strange the second your foot stepped down into the carpeted floor, or when you knock your knee on something that definitely was not there before, but the visitor does not let your mind wander too far. The knocked ceases before you can reach the door, instead there is a strange mechanic sound and a couple of beeps followed by the door opening on its own. 

“Hey, are you awake? I wanted to let you sleep in a bit more but-” comes a man’s voice, one you have never heard in your whole live and that freezes you in place. Yet, that is not even the most surprising thing, he is somehow talking in English for some reason. 

The man has the audacity to take a peek inside the room, his eyes searching in the shadows while you are freaking out. You recognize that face, the memories come crashing as soon as his gaze meets yours and he smiles. He was there in your dream, when you fainted, dressed in white like the rest of the men surrounding you. What the hell is happening? 

Was that… real? 

Next chapter

[barrenclan]

Chonny Jash's cover of The Moss seems very patfw-core to me. I think someone's brought it up before but I'd like to specifically point out some of the new/changed lyrics that I think fit

But everything you see isn't everything that is

Every thing you think to be, every thought you can't dismiss

The lives we try to lead and the time we try to give

Well it's all a fallacy, we continue to relive

^ Cats like Pinepaw and Rainhaze's curiosity about what's beyond Barrenclan territory, how cats like Cootstorm try to discourage that type of thinking and how their actions unintentionally lead them to their fates. Also very cyclecore

And every thing will live, just as every thing will die

Every foe that you forgive, and every friend that you deny

Every single first hello, and every single last goodbye

Every smile that you show, every tear that you hide

^ In my head I'm picturing an amv/pmv and for this part I'm very much imagining a sort of slideshow section about contrasts and various events: Barrenclan/Defiance, Rainhaze and Ranger/Rainhaze and Asphodelpaw, Pinepaw and Saturn/Pinepaw and Wild Rose, Slugpelt and Cashew/Slugpelt and Dustfeather. Idk if that makes sense

Well, legend has it that we're all just doomed

And we've ruined our society

Well, legend has it that we dug our tomb

Which we'll lie in for all eternity

^ Barrenclan's whole staying as punishment for their cowardice ideology

Well legend has it that, the world once knew a whole palette of lovely blues and greens

Well legend has it that, our corpses lie a foundation of insincerity

^ what Barrenclan's territory used to be - blue and green - and what it is now - on a foundation of corpses

*Attempts to Jashify Raz* *Attempts to Jashify Raz* *Attempts to Jashify Raz—

I've seen a lot of people in the server talking about Chonny Jash, he seems pretty fun. But if I'm honest, I'm more of a Johnny Cash fan. :P

Ooh, yes! You've targeted me with a TMBG suggestion, I actually went ahead and added "Don't Let's Start" to the playlist but I love this song too.

Even when you're out of work you still have a job to do Even when you don't know what it is Your job knows what it is What it is is it's coming to get you

And when you wake up you can feel your hair grow Crawl out of your cave and you can watch your shadow Creep across the ground until the day is done All the while the planet circles 'round the sun

Haha, that is funny irony. But I agree with you! Isn't it interesting how despite being named that way, "Defiance" doesn't allow any of its members to defy Deepdark?

Compliance We just need your compliance You will feel no pain anymore No more defiance

Fall into line, you will do as you're told No choice fatigue, your blood is running cold We lose control, the world will fall apart Love of your life will mend your broken heart

Will Wood is ever-popular, of course, though I never got really into him. I can see this is as a Pinepaw song!

All nightmares start as dreams and I hear my subconscious screaming They say that beauty's just skin deep So naturally, please show me your

Bones, bones, bones, let me see your bones Well, I don't wanna know if the feeling follows home Bones, bones, bones, hell, we're all alone If I come home, baby, will you show your bones?

They say that beauty's just skin deep So Ana stands and rends the rancid meat from her

Oh... Rainhaze and Slugpelt song.

Are you dead or are you sleepin'? Are you dead or are you sleepin'? God, I sure hope you are dead

Well, you disappeared so often like you dissolved into coffee Are you here right now, or are there probably fossils under your meat?

Defiance song! Spefically, I could see it as from Ranger/broader Defiance's perspective as he navigates the group.

We're at a revolution And we're baying for your blood We're laying down the law And your name's mud

Cause you say you fight for us Cross your heart and hope to die You're the bully in the playground and we'll hang you out to dry

Oh yeah, I remember this song from the IncuriousCat PMV. I like it! "Nowhere King" is also a Deepdark song, so that creepy children's song-esque music does fit with the series. If anyone wanted to edit together a trailer it'd be cool!

Perfect. No notes.

Actually, someone's already made a PMV to the comic with the song! You can check it out here.

I don't think it's been suggested yet! It's a Pinepaw song, of course.

I'll cut my hair (Ooh) to make you stare (Ooh) I'll hide my chest And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

I can't really think right now and this place Has too many colors, enough to drive all of us insane Are you dead? Sometimes I think I'm dead 'Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

[ominoose]

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫-𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

Summary: Random drabble's about Steven Grant meeting other Oscar Isaac characters. No Marc or Jake co-concious, only referenced. Characters: Basil Stitt, Leto Atreides, Poe Dameron A/N: This randomly hit me and I wanted to write it because it was funny. Used a spinny wheel for it. Also idk if BB-8 can do that but now he can.

London was it's usual muggy, busy self as Steven ran down the street, hoping to catch the bus to work. It had been hard enough to get a job after the Museum Incident, but maintaining a position was proving to be a much harder endeavor between his abnormal sleeping patterns and head mates.

"Oi! Wait, please!" Steven was within touching distance just as the bus sped off, and at the lack of anything to rest his weight on or break his fall, the man found himself tumbling face first into traffic.

☽ 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐭 (Lightningface)

+ When Steven first wakes up in the apartment, his first thought is that he's woken up in a bomb site. The apartment is a mess, furniture and clothes strewn everywhere haphazardly. He's momentarily glad Marc isn't replying in his head, knowing the American would have an aneurysm over the state of the place.

+ Basil is the one to find Steven, jumping up from his spot on the couch and staring at him like he's an alien. The first thought in his mind is that Ricky the Monkey did some crazy magic and brought a clone to replace him. Poor Steven barely has a chance to process the situation before he's trying to calm his scarred, other American look alike down and explain his situation. Nothing manages to convince Basil there isn't some magic going on here, but he stops viewing Steven as an evil replacement.

+ After the initial shock and awkward introductions, they manage to sit down and chat for a few minutes. Basil shares the story of the lightning strike, insisting that its imbued him with magical powers. Steven, bless his heart, immediately believes this and boasts about his own moon powers too.

"You know, I've always wanted to try jumping off the roof and flying, have you done that?"

"Oh no, my mate Marc usually handles that, but maybe we can practice together? Have you got a suit as well?"

"Yeah, it's this paper bag and bed sheet I fixed up myself! C'mon, I have a stool on the balcony-"

"Wait, hang about.... Actually, mate, on second thoughts, lets not."

+ Steven ends up convincing Basil to properly fix his apartment, not just brush away the broken shards and dust. So that's what they do for a while, busying themselves as they theorize on how to get Steven back home with only a handful of brain cells between them. Basil listens with surprising intensity when Steven ends up branching off into Egyptology tangents, and likewise Steven nods along when Basil brings up all the documentaries he'd watched recently. In the end, the apartment does end up in much better shape, and the pair become quite chummy.

"Damn. Thanks for the help... Maybe I did overreact a bit."

"Yeah, it's no problem bruvs, it happens. Surprised the doctors didn't give you anymore meds, though I suppose over here its not like the NHS."

"Oh, no I didn't go to the hospital."

"...You wot?!"

𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 (Dune)

+ Coming to on hot, sandy slabs is enough of a trigger point to Steven Grant as they come. Coming to on hot, sandy slabs with weird astronauts in suits pointing space guns at him goes beyond frighting and circles back into 'Shit yourself' territory. Thankfully they seem to speak English. Unfortunately, his high pitched screams and babbling British noises don't make sense to them while they peer down their guns at him with confusion. It isn't until a booming voice draws everyone's attention that Steven gets a chance to breath.

+ Said breath is swiftly knocked back out of Stevens lungs when a wiser, nobler and older version of him walks into the room, commanding the attention of every single space soldier in the room. The man stares down at him as he lays huddled on the ground, curled into himself, and quirks a single well groomed eyebrow at him.

"I am Duke Leto of House Atreides. You have penetrated your way into my home. Who are you?"

"I-I-I'm S-Steven Grant. Of the... Giftshop."

The Duke continues his stony stare at Steven for a few seconds longer before holding out a calloused hand.

"Well Steven of the Giftshop, I think we both have many questions for one another, and hopefully some answers."

+ When Steven finally gets over being starstruck at the dignified, royal version of himself, and when Leto makes the accidental mistake of mentioning that they're billions of years in the future on another planet, Steven freaks out, having a 10 minute long panic attack. When that's over he geeks out instead, asking a million questions about technology, using apologies as commas and full stops.

"Do people still know about Khonshu in this era?!"

"I'm afraid I am not familiar with that name."

"Lucky sod."

+ Leto thinks the strange, weird sounding clone of himself is a schizophrenic long lost cousin, but at lease he isn't trying to kill him over a title. It's not as common in Arrakis, or the general noble courts, to find someone as earnest, honest and willing to learn as Steven seems to be, which earns him a surprising amount of respect from the Duke.

𝐏𝐨𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 (Star Wars)

+ Waking up in a space ship that's doing somersaults mid-battle while dodging and weaving around beams trying to explode it out of the sky was almost as stressful as waking up on a London bus at 8am. Commendably, Steven didn't scream or cry, but simply had a silent panic attack until a rolling white and orange ball started beeping at him, or rather the ridiculously handsome version of him currently flying the plane.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get on my cruiser?!"

"Bloody hell, not another handsome American me!"

"What?! BB-8, check for a concussion!"

+ After being given a water bottle by the polite little droid, Steven finally managed to calm himself down by the time the ship touch down and the pilot in matching droid colours sprang before him, launching question after question. When he clocked Stevens face, he was speechless, brows slowly knitting over his eyes as he tried to make sense of what was in front of him. Mid stare-down BB-8 nicked the Brits skin, running a quick diagnostic test and beeping the results out to the pilot who's eyebrows swiftly un-knitted at the noises.

+ Taking advantage of the silence, Steven tries to explain himself and his situation, insisting he comes in peace and simply wanted to get home before Donna got another excuse to give him the sack. The pilot finally introduced himself as Poe, the best pilot in the resistance at that, and with a sigh he promised to try and figure out how to get Steven back to whatever galaxy London was from.

+ Poe tries to explain the resistance and the empire to Steven, who in turn compares it to Ammits cult and jointly rants about those who take choice and freedom from the innocent. Poe is happy enough that his weird blood ancestor is with the resistance, even if he does constantly regard him with a quirked eyebrow, wondering how in the universe he managed to evolve from this walking concussion. For a second time Poe is rendered silent as Steven mentions being Moonknight.

"Oh yeah, I've done that too, at least those Jedi blokes doesn't send their jackals after you though!"

"You've... fought? In battle?"

"Course, yeah. Fought off giant gods back to the underworld, stopped the day of reckoning as the souls of the living were flooding the underworld. It was just the other day actually."

"...You killed god?!"

+ Steven absolutely adores BB-8 and Leia, a feeling the bot and all of the resistance seem to happily return, much to the dismay of Poe. Steven's quite flustered from all the attention and questions, leaving Poe to drag him away in a huff, claiming they need to get back to figuring out how to send him home. It feels like a babysitting gig more than anything, but deep down it strokes Poe's ego when Steven ooh's and ahh's at all his resistance tales.

[thecoolerliauditore]

There was like, a very brief period where there was a few 'jimmy cheated on scott' fics. I guess I know why now. Personally it makes me uncomfy for two mains reason: 1) Its a wholly made up scenario just to make Jimmy the toxic one. 2) I can really only personally see it as a Scott narrative. You know, That Type of Ex who says 'no' when someone says they want to break up. (And 3) they tend to tag the cheating ship as the ship and personally it's a bit upsetting to be looking up a ship and get a fic where they're cheaters and its all about this other character overcoming them, but that's a personal ick thing and they are using the tagging system correctly technically, its more a problem with there being no way to differentiate those types of ship tags from each other. It's just a bit personally upsetting to see a fic tagged with your ship and also 'happy ending' but the happy ending is them falling apart and unhappy which makes the cheated on party happy with no warning that's what it meant. Rambling, sorry...)

I think if you wanna interpret Jimmy as toxic y'ought to focus on the post-relationship period (honestly I feel this way about fh in general, nothing in their brief time together is nearly as interesting as their time after reacting to their ex to me) cause you could make a case for Jimmy being unnecessarily hostile and not wishing Scott well at all. (This I think works best if the relationship was toxic cause then you have a guy going to the opposite extreme in reply to a bad relationship, but works just as well Jimmy being That Ex that always says their ex was crazy that Scott also play in DL)

Personally I don't think there's a good faith way to dig into the thing Jimmy might have done wrong while ignoring the more obvious things Scott did wrong, but exploration is the point of fanfics and AUs. And I've read fics where people make Scott out to be Jimmy's only supporter in DL while everyone else bullied him and completely rewrote entire scenes to make Scott the hero, so you know, clearly a market for rewriting Scott's character specifically.

But my go to for toxic Jimmy in the context of fh is him being neglectful. Jimmy's always been half-hearted about the dynamic, including reframing it in his e1 pov, I think it isn't much of a stretch to elaborate that into full on getting into a relationship he wasn't enthusiastic about to begin with and the few things he does to contribute being token gestures. Maybe Jimmy tends to think the worst of the things Scott does and assume he's being condescended to (I think this works especially well if you want to make one or both autistic, cause it's very easy to read Scott's tone as such if you aren't on his wave length and Jimmy is very easily offended especially later on). I think maybe some wouldn't like that just because it requires having Jimmy not be enthusiastic about being with Scott, though.

If you interpret Scott as Aro and Jimmy as Ace, also, you can make an argument for them just doing all the wrong things and that building up resentment between them where neither want to do anything the other wants to do and that barrier of miscommunication only growing until it collapses in on them both.

But yeah, I personally have trouble not making both of them toxic if Jimmy is going to be toxic, but again most exploration fics focus in on one thing, so...

^^^for the other anon

I actually don't read much fic but yeah this makes sense to me. FYI i think the "cheating" read comes from people interpreting him and Scott as not fully broken up during the events of post-3L because there's never really a formal "we're not together anymore" announcement. But yeah looking for something for your ship and having it turn out to be a cheating fic is WILD LMAO

I don't vibe with a lot of this because I'm not fun BUT the aro scott/ace jimmy part is awesome I'm glad that seems to be catching on.

[wifeofnozelsilva]

I'm request (y/n) divorced William after the Elf collapse because she was severely injured in that incident. Five years later, he sees her again at the star festival with a twin boy he's never seen before. (Actually, the two children are his children, but they misunderstand that they are the children of the new husband) haha ​​and finally, don't forget to take care of your health ☺️

Hi @nongphuth! Thank you for sending a request! And also, thank you for your concern, sweetheart!♡

This idea of yours, I absolute love it! Though the thought of William being heartbroken does hurt me (╥ω╥`) He just deserve so much love! ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

And my apologies for doing this request very late, due to a lot of school works I had to do for the past months, truly sorry about it. For now, this will be part 1 of your request.

I hope you'll love this sweetie! Have a lovely day!♡♡

Part 1: One Last Chance

Pairings: William Vangeance × F!Reader

Warning: Angst to Fluff,

Eye Color — E/C

First born name — FB/N

Second born name — SB/N

"I want a divorce"

4 words. That's all it takes for William's heart to shatter into pieces. Those heartbreaking words that he has been wishing to never hear from you ever since you both got married 3 years ago.

William stared at you, eyes full of shock, mouth agape. He was about to speak when you beat him to it, "I– I'm sorry, Will... I just can't do this anymore. You've been so distant to me for months now, you've been pushing me away, stopped having breakfast, lunch, and dinner with me, you'd turn down any of my offers so coldly; and then you lied to me and hurted me, both physically and mentally... I just can't do it anymore, William."

Suddenly, William started to remember how he has been treating you for the past few months. He didn't mean it, truly. He was just so focused on helping his friend, he didn't mean to hurt you, mostly you, the person who he vowed to never hurt until death do they part.

Tears were now pouring out of your eyes, you don't know what to do, this isn't what you expected to happen in your marriage... "William. I love you, I do, but I can't take it anymore."

The room went silent, the only noise that can be heard was your sods. William didn't know what to say or do, he was going to lose you, the only person who loved him.

"I– I understand.."

That was all he could say before standing up and leaving your hospital room. 2 words. That was all it takes for your marriage to finally shatter apart.

5 years later...

The Star Awards Festival is an annual festival that celebrates the Magic Knights' achievements and reveals the squads' rankings, based on the number of stars obtained during the year.

William Vangeance, who's still the captain of the Golden Dawn, was walking around the capital in disguise before the ceremony starts. He was now in his early 30's, though even if 5 years has passed, William still looked young for his age.

The sound of people and music filled his ears as he walks around on his own. He wanted to look around the festival and to have some time alone since work has been more stressful for the past few weeks for him. A small smile was plastered on his lips as he sees children running around playing together.

The mere thought of children made William happy, children are one of the most precious living beings on earth. They're cute, adorable, lovable, small human beings. William's smile grew wider when he thought of having a family with a sudden person in his mind, you.

But suddenly, his smile disappeared. You're not his anymore. You weren't his anymore for 5 years now. He felt his heart ache, the mere thought of you being in the arms of another man made William broken. He still loves you up to this day.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he suddenly felt someone bump into him. "AH!" The small figure that dumped into him yelped. "I-i'm so sorry, Mister! I didn't mean to dump into you!" The young boy apologized, slightly bowing to William.

"It's alright, little boy. Where is your-", William stopped halfway through his sentence when he felt the little kid's mana, strange... his mana felt familiar. But this is their first encounter, so how is it familiar to him?

"Mister?–"

"SB/N!"

Their attention shifted to another child that looks exactly like the child in front of William, "Mom has been looking for you! Where have you been?!" The newcomer questioned the other, a cute angry, yet slightly worried look on his face. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to run off! I just saw something that caught my interest!"

"Well don't do that again! Mom has been worried sick! Come on!" The other said, his hand reaching out for his brother's hand, "I-i'm sorry again, Mister!" The first one slightly bowed once again to William.

"It's alright. Let me help you two be taken to your mother, I'm sure she'll be relieved that the both of you aren't hurt." William offered, a kind smile on his lips.

"But–"

"Don't worry, I'm a magic knight," he slightly revealed the Golden Dawn symbol to the two boys, two pairs of purple eyes shined bright at the sight of the symbol, "You two are safe with me."

Few minutes later...

"What are your names, boys?"

"I'm FB/N! I'm the oldest, and this is SB/N, he's the youngest! He's the one who dumped into you earlier, Mister." FB/N said he was the one leading the way while his brother and William were behind him following.

"What about you, Mister? What's your name?" SB/N asked, looking up at William while walking beside him.

"My name is William, and I'm the captain of the Golden Dawn." "EH?!–" William pressed his index finger on his lips, signaling to be quiet not wanting to gain any attention, the two boys immediately nodded their heads and continued walking.

While walking, the three made small chit-chat here and there as they were near their destination. "Are you married, Mister?" FB/N asked curiously, still walking ahead.

The question slightly caught William off guard, "Before, Yes. Now, no.." "Why? What happened, Mister?"

He went silent. Should he be telling this to children? Though, something about these two children is making him want to tell them why. But why? He barely even knows them. But something inside of him is telling him that he and the children have some kind of special bond together...

"BOYS!"

That voice..

"Mom!" The identical twins immediately ran in the direction of their mother. He didn't want to look. He knows who that voice belongs to. That oh-so-familiar voice that he misses so much after 5 years...

Yet still, he turned to look.

There you are, on your knees checking the two boys standing in front of you, a worried look on your face. 'You still look so beautiful...' William compliments in his thoughts, alonging look in his eyes.

Sighing to yourself, about to say thank you to the person who said by your children who have helped them, but immediately stopped midway when you saw who the person was...

Part 2 is yet to be made...

[ummmlife]

mareridt ;

Warnings!; angst (but with a happy ending) , shibuya nanami

It was clear in your mind, words like those couldn't be forgotten easily and, most likely never be forgotten.

“Nanami Kento is dead”.

What a shame, isn't it? Your fiance, your soulmate was taken away from you in a matter of a second. How unfair.

Maybe he could stay as a salaryman, miserable but alive, exhausted but alive. But nothing matters now, he's dead and, by what you could understand of that call, it was a grotesque death.

True horror for a frightening night like this, October 31st.

The jujutsu sorcerers are talking about remains of a body, not a complete body worthy of burial. The universe is vile when it wants to, doesn't it?

Words weren't even a way to explain all what you were feeling. Grief? Sure, sadness? Also, but mostly despair. Your heart wasn't even beating anymore and your lungs felt like heavy sandbags ready to be thrown into the sea and sink to the depths, goddamn, you couldn't even stand up from the floor of your home.

A now broken home.

How could you even try to keep going with your life like this? How could you possibly try to lift your head against and face the world? Kento used to say that running away was always an option, one that you could regret in the future, sure, but still an option. But how could you run away from a cruel world that didn't even care about the massacre that was happening outside there in Shibuya?

The regretful thoughts didn't take too much to start appearing. It was your fault, it surely was.

You could have begged Kento harder not to respond to that emergency call and stop him from leaving. You could have locked the door and hid the key. You could start a temper tantrum just to make him stay with you. You could have done so many things but you did nothing.

Kento was dead because of you… right?

With the last strength you had left in your body, you crawled to the bed you both shared. A bed witness of moments of love and hate, a bed that was a safe space for both of you. His scent is still on the pillow and in the room in general.

It hurts horribly.

You roll over to grab his pillow and hug, pouring your love through your tears as the memories of Kento run free in your mind. Crying your heart out with sorrow by all the disgrace that life is giving to you.

Your stomach was churning while your head was spinning and it kept feeling like a nightmare. You were feeling like you were not connected to your body at all.

That's until you felt hands hugging you from behind and pulling your body.

— “Hey… You're having a nightmare again…”

That voice, that familiar voice.

— “Darling… Wake up.”

Just like magic you were brought back to reality by the raspy voice of Kento in your ear. He was holding you in his arms and planting kisses on your head as his hands caressed your arms in an attempt to calm you down.

— “You were having that nightmare again?”

It was an obvious question to ask, but yes. Once more, the same vivid nightmare plays in your dreams. It was a torture to this point.

— “I'm here, alright? I'm right here.”

Without hesitation, you hugged your boyfriend back, finding a comforting sense of protection in his arms. Kento is and has always been your safe place after all.

— “Don't worry, I promised you that I'm not leaving the house today. No matter what happens, we'll spend this Halloween all safe at home together.”

i DO NOT wanna see nanami dying. i swear i'm gonna throw up

anyway

i wanted to write this as a way to comfort my own self for what's about to come and, honestly? life in general has been feeling like a fever nightmare so...

i hope this can help you to cope the fact that this is the last time we're seeing nanami alive

[spacexseven]

ALSO since you are a lover of The Chuuya ill do some pathetic subordinate au chuuya stuff too! I'll try to make this one shorter since the dazai one is such a monster.

I think hed kinda do the opposite thing that dazai does- not that he doesnt kiss your ass a LITTLE, he’ll definitely send a bunch of gifts to your house and rush to complete some of your work for you and write you love poems (that he never sends, too embarrassed. probably for the best. his prose tends to go from Suprisingly Sweet to Incredibly Creepy really fast.), but unlike dazai hes pretty attached to his reputation and thus doesn't wanna burn it away by sobbing for you until you finally cave and come hold him, as much as he might like to. to keep up his street cred while still getting you to trust him, he'll have to be more subtle. (he's not subtle at all everyone knows)

I could see his MO being to just kinda. put himself in your space as much as possible. surely, if he just hangs around you and doesnt insult you or anything like that you'll eventually realize hes not that bad? he'll even come and help you with your work, see! nice guy, really! please forget all the shit he used to say to you and that time he choke slammed you into a wall he won't do it again!

he finds himself really wanting to be useful to you. he was a pretty shitty superior, he'll admit that, but there has to be a way to make it up to you! if there's something you want, he'll get it for you. a task that needs doing, he'll complete it. a nuisance that needs to be dealt with, hes your guy. very easy for him to go to the traditional Ill Kill For You yan route here, anyone whose bad to you will know his WRATH. abusive relative? not anymore! cheating ex? bye bye! some fuck harassing you? gone! anyone who hurts his angel has to die, hes put you through enough already as it is.

- 🩹

i love your wonderful brain my friend :>

cw: yandere themes, stalking, implied breaking in + murder

compared to dazai, chuuya's hit by guilt faster, and harder. it takes a great toll on him, but he abhors the idea of anyone knowing that he was feeling broken-hearted and remorseful over some lower-ranking member. so unlike dazai's public (and embarrassing) pleads for forgiveness and lovesickness, chuuya's far more...silent about it. sure, he makes sure you're receiving his gifts, lightens your workload, and watches out for you, even deciding to avenge you in many instances. he's aware of and has long accepted the fact that he will never be recognized for his efforts, never be thanked for his help and he definitely isn't going to win your favor with anything he does, but how can he leave you alone?

of course, everyone else knows. there's whispers amongst the members of black lizard that executive chuuya nakahara personally takes care of anyone who dares utter a single negative word about you, koyou has to deal with chuuya's numerous requests for advice, and even dazai knows that chuuya's become a lovesick little puppy (naturally, he fails to notice the irony).

it's a regular sight now, to see chuuya bent over and scribbling on a piece of paper, before groaning and ripping it to shreds. anyone who manages to put together the strips is able to see what looks to be multiple lines of poetry, quite eloquently written if not for the extreme emotions being expressed in them.

while he avoids meeting with you directly, chuuya can't help but linger. he waits around the corner from your home, hoping to catch a glimpse of you walking by. he stands by the pavement outside the bar you frequent, cigarette in hand, figuring out a way to bump into you and make it look accidental, hopes you'll stop if only to stare for a moment. at least he's not all in your face and annoying you to no end like someone is, and that should score him a few points, right?

and yes, he yearns to be of some use for you, wants to help you in any way possible so that you don't see him as a nuisance and throw him aside forever. and if helping you meant staying behind you and cleaning up, if helping meant exacting revenge in your name, or even if it meant staying out of your way, he'll do it without complaint.

[ofblackskies]

So this blog has hit 1'000 followers recently, and that gives me all sorts of warm fuzzies about all the people I've met along the way. The ones I talk to every day, the ones I've fallen out of touch with or who are no longer a part of the community, and the ones I keep on my dash even though we never speak. This blog is one of my safe spaces and that's primarily because of all the amazing people I keep around. So I figured this was the perfect time to give all y'all a little extra love.

My ride or dies here, my hoes before bros, the loves of my life, these are the people who make every day on here worth it. These are the people I hope I never ever lose contact with - and if I do it's their fault and they deserve to be punished for it tbh.

@devilsanddarlings - Chrissy and I have been friends for 12 years both on and off of tumblr, but more importantly before tumblr and after tumblr. I have no doubt in my mind that we'll be friends until the end of time. I would trust you with my passwords, but I would also trust you with my life, and I do trust you with all my secrets. You've been with me through the epic highs and lows of high school football everything, and if we ever lose touch it'll be because I'm dead. And even then? I'mma haunt your ass. So be ready.

@acourtcfmuses - Alana! You and I are going on 8 years knowing each other, and you're so awesome. You're one of my oldest friends from this hellsite, and the only one who's really active anymore. And when I say active, I mean active. Nobody has more characters than you. I've finally broken 100 and I'm still nowhere near being able to be in the same race! Not only that, but you do so well with all your canons, and your ocs are all so well put together. Thank you for always being around when I need you - even if we are on completely different time lines, you always reply when you can and that means a lot.

@hellgiven - Charli, you're one of the few people that I would follow to any blog they made. I don't care what the fandom is, I don't care who the character is, so long as it's you writing them, I know it will be good and I know that we'll find a fun pairing to write! I tell you things I don't tell hardly anyone, and you let me bitch when I need to but you don't ever take it to heart, and I love that. I love you &lt;3

@snnydcys - Lumi, I know I give most of my attention when it comes to our friendship to Channy, and I know I'm terrible at getting to replies in a timely manner - but Channy deserves the attention, and you never bully me about how slow I can be. You've adapted Sonny into this multi-fandom baddie, and you did it in such an organic way that I could never have imagined could be done with a Disney character. I'm always so impressed by the way you've made her fit everywhere. And I promise I will get to doing other things with your other characters. I promise.

@carp3diems - Bluejayyyyy! First of all, obligatory mention of the soulmates: Cal and Del are everything and I swear any time I go to write a reply for him that isn't for her, he's in my head whinging and asking where she is. The fact that I have an oc who's so obsessed with yours is honestly such a vibe because I too, am obsessed with you. You're a great friend, and you only pressure me to write when I explicitly ask you to - which is exactly what I need sometimes. I'm a sucker for all of our little ships and plots and dynamics, even the ones that we're just getting started, and I adore youuuu.

@unitcd - Fabian, we share a love of Jeremiah and a hatred on Conrad, and them there could be fighting words to a lot of people, but we get along so well! Even without that basis, I think we would have become friends eventually, and I'm really glad we did! Even if I'm terrible and don't reply fast enough.

These are the blogs I follow that either I don't write with much, or just haven't had the chance to get out of that 'new follower' stalking vibe with yet! This is also where I'm sticking those people I just don't talk with much ooc (at least not on a daily basis) but I still love so much! I adore you all, and thank you for making my experience on the dash so awesome, it wouldn't be this good without being able to read your threads

@unbearablyindifferent / @tobeblamed / @seesgood / @klaeus / @salvatoraes / @stanfordprepped / @tvintedspvrk / @fcntasyadvcnturc / @localsalt / @takeflight / @lcvelj / @lcveblossomed / @fuckedprophet / @inspotlight / @gunchamber / @benbraeden / @sunsymbols / @malka-lisitsa / @rhaegore / @stcllla / @shesdaylight / @cruelprincae / @sarcasticsnackpack / @saltzitivo (!!! I would say a lot more about you but you know. We don't do a lot here on tumblr anymore, but Hallie is one of my absolute favorite people on the planet alwaysss, my aussie sister <3)

@thcdarlingboy - Blair isn't active right now, but she will forever be one of my favorite people I've ever met on this hellsite. Every day I hope she comes back to throw her characters at me, and because I think of her on such a frequent basis, she deserved an honorable mention on this list despite the fact that her blog hasn't been active since 2020. Blairbear, if you do pop on at any point in time and see this, I want you to know that I love you and I miss you &lt;3

Now, if you've gotten through all of that and made it all the way down here, you deserve something special. So anyone who reblogs either this post or my promo by this time next week will get entered to win some sort of graphics prize. We can chat about what you want if you win, but the realm of options is anything from base icons, to a promo or blog graphics. I'll be picking two randomly generated people, and one person by hand. The only rules are that you have to be following me (this is a follow forever giveaway, after all), and you have to reblog either this post or my promo. Reblogging this post will gain you two entries, because I really want to give the loves of my life some love and get their names out there a little more! But I know it's long as hell, so no pressure! And good luck! May the odds be ever in your favor.

[pocketramblr]

36 for the word game, please!

36. — conditional

"You don't... want to eat my soul?" Izuku asked. Everything felt unreal, between the light around the demon and the floating sensation between Izuku and his body. Maybe it was just the bloodloss or oxygen deprivation. Maybe the demon wasn't even here. That'd be the better option, right?

"It would not be." The demon grumbled. "Young man, I'd have to be a very powerful demon to utilize souls in magic. I don't know if anyone but the demon king has ever managed it. As for eating humans... Well, yes, some demons would. But I don't."

Well, then Izuku's would-be murderers were going to be very disappointed.

"They just summoned a demon, guess there wasn't a way to phone ahead and check your interest. Sorry you got dragged into this too, then, you can leave right?" And then with no demon to fulfill their wish, Izuku's kidnappers would... Probably just kill him. He was dead anyway.

The demon's brows furrowed, his eyes shone sharp blue in black. "I could, but I don't want to leave you to your death. Nor do I want them to try again, with another summoning circle."

Oh. That was nice of him.

"Unfortunately, I can't really do anything yet until I accept or deny the contract. Until you are dead, or mine." The demon began to pace, yellow bangs swaying side to side. Izuku watched him, and didn't move from the circle painted on the ground. Moving sounded like it would hurt.

"Well, I guess..." The demon sighed, then turned back. "Ok, here's an offer: I adopt you as my son. That means accepting the contract, with another on top."

Izuku already had a dad. He thought about what his mom would say if he said yes, it would have broken her heart. But if he said no... Well she wouldn't exactly have been happy about this, either.

"As your son?"

"It would allow you safe passage to the Netherworld and would fulfill a condition of the contract."

"The Netherworld?"

"Where demons dwell. As I said, in this world... You're not long for it."

"What are the other conditions?"

"I'd need something from you. As this saves your life, you'd have to give up something too."

"My soul?"

"No, that'd be under my custody until you reach adulthood. You'd have to give up your surname."

"Oh, like, change my name on the family registry because I'd be adopted? Demons have family registries too?"

"Sorta... But no. I mean, give it up. You wouldn't ever remember your family's name here, and it'd be replaced with mine."

Oh.

It was his mom's surname.

"So if I don't agree, I die. And if I do, I forget my name and go to the Netherworld with you, and you are definitely only going to adopt me and not eat me because if you wanted to do that you already would have, I guess, and... What happens here? To make sure there isn't another summoning circle or they try to get even more people killed because it apparently works and-"

The demon waved a hand. "In accepting, I would also be sealing the deal with... them too, yes, but I can then make sure they are unable to do anymore harm with it."

"So, you wouldn't be giving them what they want?"

The demon snorted. "I'd be giving them what they think they want. And I can promise you this, they will regret it."

Izuku almost asked what it was. Almost asked what they wanted badly enough to kill him. But couldn't.

"All right. I agree."

"Really?" The demon sounded too surprised, considering he'd been trying to sell Izuku on this plan. Or, trying to get Izuku to sell on his plan?

"Yeah."

"Deal. Sign here." The demon snapped, and papers and and old pen hovered in front of Izuku. He couldn't read the paper.

He signed it anyway.