#although I still have my own doubts- they will remain doubts. nothing more

[fallen-for-the-stars]

Rule number 1!

Always be your biggest supporter, it may be easier said then done for most people, but trust me when I tell you it’s important, relying on the support of others affects your mental health!

[girlwiththoughts13]

No place for a Dragon

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader

Warnings: Targ-cest/ smut!

Word count: 1k

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The cold winds and bitter snow that dust over your skin feels far more harsh against the heat your body naturally emits. The frigid temperatures of Winterfell is no place for a dragon. The thought of remaining here until the ends of your days is more frightening than the prospect of marriage. For the lord stark is a kind and honorable man, that rarity alone makes your dreadful thoughts gently fade.

Despite this union being an arranged one-all to strengthen the north as a ally for your mother Rhaenrya- Cregan Stark had done his best the last 2 sennights of your residence in the foreboding halls to quail your concerns of a loveless marriage. He vowed to aways be faithful, and in time, come to love you as deeply as a man loves a woman.

There was no doubt you would preform your duties and give the wolf of the north your companionship, your body, and your name, but your heart was not as compliant.

It's not that you didn't find him attractive or kind or all the things a lady would hope for in a future husband; however your heart simply did not beat, at his more than adequate attributes.

How you wished to rip put your own heart, tear it asunder and remold it to fit the lord stark. He may speak true, as the years come love will grow.

In the main Hall of the keep you clutch onto the furs wrapped around your shoulders and await to meet the kinslayer himself. It has been long since you set your eyes upon your uncle. It seems he is still as brazen as ever, showing up to a house that went against Aegon's claim and alone at that. You wondered what was crossing through his mind. Did he think to take on the soldiers on his own? Even vhagar would not be able to defeat thousands of angry northern men.

Regardless of the trap you suspected, if able, capturing the second son of the whore Queen would be a feat for your side.

Lord stark stood beside you, jaw set and hand tightened around his sword. You could feel his eyes move to the side of your face, no doubt blaming you for the arrival of the man with the largest dragon in the known world.

Continuing to stare straight you decide to break the thick silence. "Will you turn me in to save your house?" The worry has set in your thoughts since the circling of the monstrous beast was spotted. Aemond surely is not here to discuss the notion of peace.

"Do you think so low of me?" You finally meet his gaze and find nothing short of offense, Starks were no oath breakers, to be accused by his betrothed of all people, made him believe he was not doing enough for you or the war efforts.

Before you could answer, the large wooden doors creaked open snapping your stare to the approaching men.

Four men surrounded the dragon prince as they walked, ensuring he did not try to assassinate there liege lord or their princess.

When the men came to a halt your betrothed stepped forward shielding you from view.

"I'd say I admire your boldness but I believe it's just stupidity that has lead you to my lands" Cregan spoke with clear distain and although his back was to you, you know his face is just as thunderous.

"I had to see for myself if the rumors were true, my dear niece being sold off. Tell me Lord Stark has she spread her legs for you yet? If she's anything like her mother then I suppose that answers that." Aemond speaks with a cruel tone and a smirk that never falters splayed across his face. The allegations against you and your mother, wretches a small gasp from your lips.

"How dare you, come here, dishonor Lord Stark and spew vile insults toward my mother the Queen and her daughter? I could have your head for that, send it to your bitch of a mother" The sudden sound of your voice and the threat against his mother struck a nerve if the hard-set in his eye was anything to go by.

"Nyke gōntan daor māzigon kesīr naejot vīlībagon nyke jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon lēda ao mērī" I did not come here to fight I need to speak with you, alone. His switch to your mother tongue was a obvious slight to Cregan, but you had not time to dwell on that, not when he was asking the impossible of you.

You did not give him the satisfaction of answering him in your native language. "Do you think I'd go anywhere with you alone? So that you may slit my throat or worse take me to the red keep as a hostage of the usurpers?"

"Give me one reason not to string you up? Or send you to the Dragon Queen?" Cregan obviously had picked up on Aemond's intentions and had begun to reach his limits of his presence.

The sinister smile returned on Aemond's face, making your blood run cold, knowing his hand was about to be revealed. "You're right. You could kill me right now or keep me as a prisoner, but not before Vhager burns this entire castle to the ground. I am prepared to meet my maker, are you Lord Stark?"

The Lord of Winterfell goes to rebuttal such a threat but Aemond continues. "Or, niece, we could have civil conversation, after which I promise to return you to your pup."

You step around Cregan, prompting him to reach his hand out to stop you from advancing. He gives you a pointed look, one you return.

You place your hand atop his to soothe his worries. You lean up to his ear and he angles his face down to meet yours. "I'll be okay, your house shouldn't suffer over a mere denial of conversation" The whisper of your voice reaches him and only him. You pull away to show your resolve leaning up once more to press a firm kiss on his cheek. Squeezing his arm as you pass.

Reaching Aemond he holds out his own arm to you, one you ignore. He lets out a chuckle and gives his head a light shake.

As you walk Aemond tells you of a cottage he happened upon, a near by place he had left Vhagar awaiting his return. Although you hate the idea of leaving the safety of Winterfell grounds, Aemond will not budge to a private audience in your quarters, therefore you walk silently beside him.

You stop walking when you both reach the door of the quaint cottage. Vhagar a little off to the side puffing out hot air, that reaches you from where you stand. He looks back at you with amusement. "Scared niece?"

Donning a smirk of your own you proceed onward aware of the mistake you were making and finding you did not care at all.

"Ohh.. Fuck!" The moans run out of your open mouth as your slammed up and down on Aemond's cock in rapid motions. The echo of your skins clapping together Is heard throughout the small space and should any one happen to find themselves taking a stroll near the grounds would surely hear the raptures of your pure pleasure.

Aemond latches onto your bouncing tit, suckling at your nipple and bringing a hand to knead the other. His free hand that rested upon your lower back, reaches up to take a strong hold on the back of your head, yanking the sliver tresses back from where you hidden your head in the crook of his neck.

He moves his feet to root them to the ground, to meet your thrust, your rhythm restrained by the small chair you ride him on.

"Does your pup still believe you a maiden?" His thrust growing harsher at the mention of your intended. "Does he know I've ruined you? Gotten deep inside this tight cunt and imprinted my name on the mouth of your womb?" It is a wonder he speaks as if not strained from supporting your weight atop him and the excursion of fucking up into you.

There is no desire within you to answer. You wish to forget of the realities of the outside world and be here and now. Feeling his warm skin on yours creating fire that stokes you completely alight. This will be the last time you lay together the war of fire and blood rearing its rotten head. You realize that was the reason for this. Showing up and demanding an audience with you. Risking his life for one more night with his princess, his niece, his love.

You place one small palm on his mouth to stop more vulgarness from spewing out. "Just shut up and fuck me harder, unless the dragon would like to yield to the wolf?" Aemond lets out a growl and winds his arms around you, standing to his full height with you in his arms. He manages to stay inside you as he walks you to the near by table. When he sets you down he pushes down on your stomach to lay your back flat against it,

The way he was fucking you earlier has nothing on the way he pounded into you now, practically embedding your skin in the oak of the table. Aemond has one hand on your hip and the other comes up to wrap tightly around your throat cutting off your air immediately. Your hand grabs his wrist but you make no attempt to free yourself from his grasp. Despite the circumstances there is no fear in your body, instead you find hot arousal, one that makes your already wet cunt gush more liquid at the base of his cock.

"My, my, look at this, what a sight" You glance up at him, his eye trained directly on the place where his cock disappears within you.

His deft fingers circle up to your clit and that is your undoing, your legs shake from around his waist and your back arches up, head thrown back, a loud moan tearing through you.

Aemond lifts you up to him, from the gap you made when your back raised off the table. Your head falls on his shoulder, limp from being throughly sated. Gone are the precise thrusts, replaced by quick hard shoves inside you, desperate to reach his peak. Once more he tugs your head back and kisses you deeply passionately, It remind you of when you were children, ignored by your elders and seeking love in each other. Kisses hidden beneath the blanket of darkness.

Aemond's stills and groans quietly as his seed fills you to the very end of you and there is a small part of you that hopes it takes root, so that you may have a piece of him always, even when he is gone.

"I love you" You both whisper, low as if you will be strike down by all the gods if heard.

Mayhap's you have already been scorned by their fury.

[thatfrailsoul]

– Nourishing your soul, treasuring your bonds

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

("Sleeping Beauty in the Wood", Maxfield Parrish)

It is already challenging enough to find within ourselves the courage to be who we want, who we truly are... Enough to assume that once done that - there is nothing, no one, else to worry about... And yet here you are. Pressured by this doubt that you shouldn't have in the first place. The one that choosing your own self - your goal, desires, your needs - might be not right for you, or even worse... not aligned with the path of your loved ones.

So... are you doing the right thing by choosing yourself? Will the ones you cherish understand and help you with this journey? Will your paths still remain aligned, side by side? Can you really do this for yourself, without being forced to say to them goodby?

Slow down for a moment. Breathe. Listen to your heart, to its rhythm. Allow it to speak to you. And choose the image that seems so familiar, calling so strongly your heart. Remembering that, whatever the message might be, you are free to listen to it or to let go. Without the need to make it fit. Because your true answer will always find you, the moment you will be really ready and will have the need.

_

A little message to the beautiful soul that requested this reading: Your questions truly moved me. I felt them deep down, as I too asked myself the same things so many times... So I wanted to do my best by looking closely at each question on your mind. It will be a slightly long reading... But I hope that it will give you the clarity that you are trying to find.

_

– Pile One,

three of swords, six of cups, the hermit

When we are growing, feeling the real change in ourselves, in the parts of us that for so long we didn't take care of and forgot... It is inevitable to feel more deeply, to see things that we never noticed before. In the world around us. In our life. In the people by our side. It is inevitable to, suddenly, feel resistance, perhaps judgment from some and even concern from others... Exactly in those things and actions that are so connected to us feeling better, stronger, more confident about what we deserve and who we are...

And it's confusing, you know. First comes the hurt and frustration, of doing all this work but not being seen, congratulated, appreciated for the new aura radiating from us and that makes us so proud. Almost like they don't like and don't want the better version of us... Then comes in the doubt and fear that it is the truth. That what you know for sure is the best thing for you... It's something that is so inconvenient for them. That perhaps, unconsciously, you once again became fond of people that were just so good at wearing a mask. Hiding underneath their true them, that is so different from who you want by your side and who you want to become.

And all of these doubts and convictions are so overwhelming for your mind. The only place where you have the courage to think about it, to consider, to try to find a solution... Because just speaking up and asking them about it out loud... feels so risky, so dangerous. Something that will be the end of a bond that perhaps is completely fine, and that you are complicating on your own in your mind.

But the thing is... Although we can indeed sometimes misunderstand one intention for another, through their actions or their words... There are only so many times that you can wrongly read the room or their tone while they are speaking their mind. Even if you convince yourself that sometimes you are a little too defensive or feeling a little "too much"... you are not naive. You are not completely new to this world. You already had these doubts, these uneasy feelings, these intuitions or fears about those by your side. It's not the first time that you are being supported on your decisions or journeys, and in the same way it's not the first time that you discover that someone is not in fact your "ride or die".

And this exact fact that it is not the first time, of fearing to need to let go of someone, being so affectionate but at the same time aware that you are for some reason not aligned, makes it all so incredibly hard... that you wander if perhaps making a step back and leaving the things the way they were, might be better than creating so many changes and chaos in your life.

But you are doing the right thing, you really and truly do. You didn't go so far, found this strength and courage, to doubt this journey now. Now that you are already halfway through it. So close to the finishing line. You didn't go through all of this for yourself, to ask then if everything will be fine, if they will in the end understand, accept the new you and stay... When what you truly want and are afraid to know is if you indeed need to let go of them as you are feeling now. If you need to leave behind those that judge so much who you are becoming, already hurting a version of you that is still so new, even if it will hurt so much your heart.

You already know all of this deep down, that it might indeed be the necessary thing to do. And you are also aware of the fact that you don't really want to do it, to choose between you and them, losing one or another, not being able to maintain both. You remember how difficult it is, feeling, being alone. And it only complicates everything. A decision that you are not able to make because both options see you suffering, because of others or of the void left in the place where they used to be.

So... Let me rephrase it a little for you: do you really want to need to justify your decisions or who you are, constantly defending yourself from those that should support and appreciate you and your life? Are you really ready for a constant battle with those by your side?

Because, are you doing the right thing by choosing yourself or not, is not even a question that should cross your mind. You are on the right path. You are doing the right thing. You are doing just fine. You are actually making the most important steps in manifesting on your own that life that you want to experience and enjoy. Starting from you. And through you - with those around you.

And this moment of resistance, this moment of you seeing so much difference between you and others in your life, it's not a way of the Universe to tell you that you are making the wrong decision, becoming too different and less relevant or appealing to those that you want with you. But it's rather a way to make you understand that not everyone can or needs to stay here for a lifetime. Not everyone can be satisfied and completely aligned with what you have in mind. And if there is a right way to choose who to have by your side... well it's for sure by sharing your feellings and thoughts, your desires and intentions, openly. Seeing who feels excited for you, who is proud of you and understands... Or who is feeling hurt, only because for once you are prioritizing your own self and what is the best for your life.

We indeed are, at some extent, the people that we have by our side. They influence us in how they treat us, their opinions, their convictions in which we start to believe too. They form you, consciously or not, through the ways they support you or judge you, limiting your decisions or your steps.

So don't hide in your mind for the sake of others. Don't try to analyse or understand all on your own. Looking for a solution to make everyone happy and satisfied. Think only about yourself now, exactly like this journey requires. Follow your own plan and path. And allow others to be themselves, like you are the true you now. Even if it means that your paths will go different ways. Because no matter how sad or difficult, it is still fine. To be different and to live different lives.

And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

– Pile Two,

the four of cups, the eight of coins, the ten of cups

Look at you - you are just blooming. With all the courage and strength that you've found to finally and truly take care of yourself. To nourish your soul, make it smile and feel free and alive. You got through so much, through so many new and uncomfortable steps. You faced and made peace with so many parts of you that were consuming you, filling you with anger, fear and despair...

You did it. You truly did. But you managed to do so by hiding yourself. Creating that safe space away from everyone. From their opinions, "advices" regarding your life and how you should make it through. From all the people that talked so much, but so rarely listened to you. Becoming for yourself, on your own, the closest and dearest person by your side. The one that you can truly trust your heart with, the one that can so gently calm your mind. You connected to yourself so deeply, finding so much within yourself... that you don't really feel the need to have someone else. Especially those that remained their old self, not changing even a bit in this time that you spent by yourself.

And now that you "came back", felt strong and confident enough to meet them once again... The difference between you, the moments of silence or of the conflicts, were just too loud. And where before you felt uncomfortable, you just started feeling completely out of place now. Seeing only strangers in a life that is supposedly full of people, so many of them by your side.

But there is a thing about you... About how you don't really accept the idea of giving up, of considering something, someone, a lost cause. You didn't do it for yourself, demonstrating how much a person can change, grow and start to shine again. And you don't want to do it for them, for those that... You really do want to see one day understanding you, the way you see and feel this world, perhaps finally appreciating you, cherishing you the same way you learned to do it with your own self and them too.

And you can really do it. You can really see this change in them one day, even if now it seems so impossible to find a way to speak to them more deeply, enough to touch their soul and give them a new goal, a new hope. It will happen. It is already happening now. Because of you.

With your courage, or despair, in finding your true self, in taking care of yourself, you unconsciously created an example. You demonstrated silently that there is no need to suffer and be pressured by a version of you that just doesn't fit you so well anymore. You showed that, although something so new and perhaps complicated at first to do - it is so worth it. To open up. To your own self and to others. To this life, the things that it always teaches us, but that we sometimes are not so ready to learn and make ours.

You created something so beautiful, by simply choosing yourself no matter what. Like a little seed that you hid in their subconscious mind, it started to grow, manifesting itself in their actions and decisions. That for once started to be for themselves, for their good, for their safety and wellbeing. Unlocking a new version of them, that sees so much more now in their life and their bonds. Cherishing every moment more.

It might not be something that you can see already now, not when it is something so little, that even they are only now starting to notice and appreciate more... And not everyone will bloom and grow... But those that will, they will surprise you so profoundly, they will surprise themselves. In seeing how much your paths evolved and changed, aligning themselves even though you both started to feel like it is time to let each other go.

You will rediscover each other, get to know again so many people that you were convinced to already know, finding out how actually similar, closer your hearts are. But... Just give it time. Be patient, the same way you were with yourself and the journey that you were on all this time. They are growing too, they are changing, and it is something that goes so differently for every person, that requires a different rhythm and pace from perhaps the ones that were comfortable and right for your soul.

Don't worry about it, everything will be fine. Continue to focus on yourself, on protecting your new boundaries and expressing your new ideas and passions. Gently, sweetly, exactly like the way you are. Radiating your beautiful light, and showing others a way to find their own right path.

And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

– Pile Three,

the knight of cups, the king of swords and the six of coins

When we start to strive for more, to have this deep need for a change, for a better life and us... It is sometimes almost impossible to not be overwhelmed with all that motivation and energy. With that desire to do everything at once, making progress as fast as possible and being finally able to enjoy this better life.

It is so difficult to not get caught up in all of this... That sometimes this incredible glow around your soul that grows so beautifully - just starts to blind your own eyes and mind. Making you see - where at first there was so much enthusiasm, motivation, exciting new steps - just so many more sacrifices and things to do. Just for a chance to live well and feel good.

And it just drags you back down. In that discouragement and tiredness, in that doubt of really being ready to start this journey. Of wanting it truly at all. And while you fall back in this spiral, in this paralysis of not knowing what is best or worse, if to need to work for a new life enduring again all those challenges and battles... Or to continue this one even though it just doesn't speak anymore to your soul... In all of this your mind is just working too much. Day after day, doubt after doubt, making you forget a little but important detail: you don't need to do it all alone.

Yes it was you idea, yes it is indeed your story, your life that you are doing all of this for... But a journey is not always so limited to only one soul. It is not always meant to be faced on your own. But you assumed it, too caught up in these emotions that a start of a new journey filled your heart. You isolated yourself, hid yourself from this life that doesn't suit you anymore, and from the people around you that just didn't felt aligned. You hid yourself, and started to create everything from scratch on your own. Facing so many new things and questions that you never considered before. Refusing to ask for help, to have opinions of others, because you knew for sure that the same way they never understood they won't do it now too... You convinced yourself of this. Taking away from you perhaps one of the most powerful and beautiful details of a journey: the strength and courage that gives you the not being alone.

It is true that, no matter how much you love those by your side, they are still so different in the way they see and feel this world, in how they want to experience this life... But different is not always negative. It is not necessarily source of judgment, lack of understanding and appreciation, lack of support... Sometimes, exactly that "different" is what can help you find new solutions, answers, new ways of overcoming an obstacle on the road you are trying to walk. Sometimes it is exactly that support and needed hand that can help you navigate your emotions and doubts.

They are different. But this doesn't mean that they don't love you or don't want to see you bloom as the most beautiful flower of this world. They are here for you, and they show it in the only way, from the only perspective that they know... But they can also do it differently, if only you let them learn, allow them to understand fully what is it that you are looking for.

They have so many other versions of perceptions and opinions different from yours. But this is where their strength is. This is where the strength that they can give you is. So many new ways of facing things, of advices, of experiences, of more delicate or more straightforward approaches. So much help that they can give you on your journey, if only you allow them to.

Don't hide yourself, don't assume that they will not understand. Because there is nothing that they want more - to help you be your authentic and most confident self. You grew up, you changed, your mind learned so well to be open to others and their ways. And they can do it too. If you allow them to learn from you. To stay by your side as you make your first steps, to see you, to feel you. And to protect and guide you, helping you to don't doubt, to don't be afraid, and to believe in yourself.

And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

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[vrystalius]

AAAAJAJA I LOVE UOURR BLOGGG AND HOW YOU ENVISION EACH CHARACTERS XDD may I pretty please make a request for angst/fluff hcs on female human reader, who’s very insecure, paired with the upper moon trio and Muzan?Whether it’s about her looks, or that she feels like they don’t genuinely love her (esp since they are demons and she’s a human, so what’s stopping them from leaving/killing her and dating other demons instead(˃̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣ )

Insecurity

What stops your demon s/o to get bored of you one day and eat you? What if they’re only pretending to love you? And what will your partner do to fight those insecurities?

Pairing: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Muzan x gn!reader

Kokushibo

He is taking your insecurities very seriously. Kokushibo knows and felt it himself plenty, during both his demon and human years. Despite that, his “comfort” and “reassurance” methods are quite unique. Your husband will not react immediately to your feelings, rather being more quiet and reserved than usual, wich at first makes you doubt yourself even more. Perhaps he is finally realising that he is much better off with another human or even demon… Although you started to notice how Kokushibo was hovering around you more and more. Silently, but he was still there, watching you while you go on with your day. You could be doing some mundane task like cooking yourself a meal and he would be standing behind you, not noticing how intimidating he is being right now.

In his mind, Kokushibo was showing more interest in you. He believed that you felt insecure about him not being around you enough or paying attention to you, instead being out on missions or training. So, now he’s watching you everyday all day, trying to show you through his ways that he cares about you and cherishes you very much. Once he finally notices how he is achieving nothing but making you confused or intimidating, Kokushibo begins to show affection more openly, although it felt forced at first.

His calloused hand would slowly slip into yours, intertwining fingers while he was meditating, or him holding you close to his body while you napped or slept on his chest, spending the precious and scarce nighttime with showering you in affection while you were resting, not even aware about how he was trying to show his love in his own way.

“I’ll stay for the night, I asked that man to give the other Upper Moons any of my remaining missions. I’d rather spend my time with you.”

Kokushibo is silently worrying about not being good enough for you. Although he is Upper Moon One, wouldn’t a human want to marry another human and start a family? What stops you from leaving him? He will not stop or hurt you when you choose to do so, he would completely understand.

Douma

You immediately saw Douma’s face shift into the expression he gives to all his followers once they start speaking about their woes, while you were trying to explain to him how you were feeling. You silenced yourself the second the pity-tinged smile appeared on your face, knowing that he is not listening or acknowledging your feelings in any way. He told you times before how he feels exhausted when listening to his followers whine and cry about their problems while Douma barely cares, giving them the usual advice. Talking about your insecurities will definitely not work with Douma, so you’ll have to resort to other things to make him listen. Ignoring him is a not very nice way to do it, but at least he’ll start to wonder why you are not around.

He notices immediately when you stop being near him. You’re not sitting by his side during sermons, you’re not in your shared bedroom and the followers commented about how you were seemingly avoiding the Founder. That’s when it finally clicks, you were talking about not feeling enough for him and being insecure about yourself earlier, right? Once Douma chased you down (and persuaded you to leave the garden and step into the shade with him so you two can have a conversation without him needing to yell all over the estate), he theatrically kissed the palm of your hand and kept apologising over and over, almost nervously trying to explain how much he loves you and how irreplaceable you truly are to him and his heart.

You are the first human, first being he felt emotions for. Happiness, sadness, anger, jealousy and most importantly love— all the beautiful and unpleasant feelings, Douma began feeling them because of you!

To prove his point in a way, he introduced you to all the unimpressed Upper Moons and his master as “the love of his life”, his wife, his life partner, soulmate and so on and on, mentioning many other petnames until Muzan finally silenced him. Douma invites you to sit right beside him during sermons, instead of having your own cushion, keeping you closer and having the opportunity to openly shower you in affection. He sometimes sends out followers to pick up flowers for you in the garden and then presents then to you as if he picked them out himself, acting like the sun wasn’t out for the last hours, making it not possible for him to get those flowers for you. You appreciate it nonetheless.

“I have an idea! How about we hold an official wedding ceremony with all my followers! We cab invite my other friends too! Ohh, Akaza can be my best man, imagine how that could be, haha!”

Even if Douma is rather comical and theatrical, deep down inside, he is rather afraid of you getting sick of him one day. He knows he can keep his followers charmed and close, but his speeches and charms do not work on you. You see right through him and know the true person, or demon, he is. He is insecure himself because why would you stay with a man-eating demon? Once you mentioned your own thoughts and feelings, he took it as an opportunity to prove that he does cherishes and loves you so, so incredibly much.

Akaza

You… You seriously think that you are not good enough? Not pretty or strong enough? Seriously?

You are the best thing that ever happened and will happen to him. You are patient with him snd so kind, so gentle and affectionate. You heal his soul and now you are talking about being replaceable? He feels incredibly horrible for making you feel so terrible about yourself.

Akaza tries to be more obvious about his feelings for you, trying to reassure you how beautiful you look or saying “I love you” more often, taking your smaller hand into his, nuzzling his cheek in your warm palm. He gets much more touchy, trying to get you to cuddle more and more so he can relish in your warmth and bask in your arms. His time with you is scarce, especially with how Muzan keeps drowning him in more and more exhausting missions that keep him away from you (and sometimes it feels like his master is doing it on purpose), that’s why his eyes do not leave your form for even one second, sometimes quietly mumbling “I love you” against your warm skin, his lips placing kisses between his muffled words.

“There’s no one else I want by my side, bunny. You make me feel warm, fuzzy… safe, y’know. It’s weird but nice. You should feel like that too.. you deserve it.”

Akaza sometimes notices how disgustingly desperate he sounds to comfort and reassure you. It made him cringe once he realised how hard he fell for you, how much he clung onto you and how desperately he craved your love, your touch. Once you start talking about your insecurities about your beauty, self-worth and so on, he realises how much he appreciates you more and more. You’re the most beautiful human he ever came across, you’re heaven-sent. Is it selfish of him to think of you as a blessing from the gods themselves?

Muzan Kibutsuji

He was very perplexed when he first listened to you talking about being insecure, not quite understanding how you out of all people feel replaceable and not enough for the demon king. How could you think such things? Do you not understand how vulnerable he is with you without an audience? At first, he’d dismiss your worries for you just being confused or not feeling well, but a little after a day after your initial conversation, the gears inside his five brains begin to shift and work again. At that moment, he finally realised what you really meant.

Muzan didn’t want to be more affectionate with you, mistaking love with weakness, but after finally realising how you needed the reassurance from him, he begrudgingly gave into his fears of appearing soft and began to show his love more openly.

The demon king began to shower you in various gifts that mark you as his partner, such as a necklace with a ruby matching his eye colour, multiple rings he owns himself so you two can match and an artificial flower crown for you to wear as his soulmate and in a cute way to show off your “royal status” as the partner of Muzan.

“You are the one and only for me, and I am the only one for you. If the gods exist, they have blessed me with merely meeting you in your lifetime… it would be a pity to let it expire so soon. I will happily give you my blood if you’d like, my sun.”

💠

I am back with the Upper Moons, I hope you don’t mind if I changed the female reader to gn, anon! I felt like I wrote a lot of fem reader lately so I wanted to switch it up again. I wonder if it’s obvious wich demon is my favourite XD Anyways— I’m heading to bed now, I an exhausted :,)

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[sansaorgana]

I need to know how Benny would react to his wife going into labor?

hello, darlings! I decided to use the first request for the requested part two of the fic where Reader is pregnant and tells Benny about it 💐😌

[ PART ONE ]

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

Lots of things had changed those past few months. With his ups and downs, Benny Cross had grown into a man who was worthy of becoming a father. He had found a job as a mechanic and although he was still riding with the club, he was no longer leaving you alone for a whole night and you had bailed him out only once those past few months. With the help of Johnny and a few other guys – mostly Cal – he had even managed to prepare a nursery in your house for the baby.

You both were scared, though, and it wasn’t even about the little baby joining your family soon. Benny was scared of failing and not meeting the standards he had set up for himself. He never wanted to be like his own father and disappoint. You, on the other hand, were scared that Benny would just… Break. Pop like a balloon after all those months of trying to be the most proper version of himself. That he’d eventually crack and need to unwind. You couldn’t forget about the fact that your husband was a wild mustang and wild animals would always remain unpredictable – even domesticated ones.

Your biggest fear was that it would happen after the baby would be born and you’d be left alone with a newborn child. If Benny disappeared on you like that, you would find it very difficult to forgive him. But you were nine months pregnant now and he was still with you, trying his best every day. It was making you more and more convinced that as long as the baby was still in your womb, he was fine. But what would he actually do when there would be a tiny human screaming in that crib Benny had built not so long ago? What would he do when there would be actual diapers to change?

However, sharing those doubts with him didn’t feel right. You didn’t want to be ungrateful – after all, he was the best version of himself for you and the baby lately. He had even stopped drinking so much beer. He was taking this new responsibility more and more seriously the bigger your belly grew because it was a proof that yes, it was true – he would become a father.

On that night you were haunted by those thoughts again. In fact, they were especially coming back during those long, sleepless nights and lately every night had been sleepless. Benny was snoring lightly next to you and you were jealous how easy it was for him to drift off to the land of dreams – you knew it was caused by his exhaustion after work but, let’s be real, he had never had problems with falling asleep. His head would touch the pillow and he was a goner that very moment.

You groaned quietly to yourself and changed position for the tenth time that night when suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, which made you hiss. However, you ignored it because those were happening once in a while. 

The pain came back, though, the very moment the previous one subdued completely. You sat up rapidly and held your swollen belly, not wanting to alarm your husband yet but he woke up on his own. Benny moved uncomfortably and opened his eyes lazily.

“You okay, kitty?” He mumbled out.

“I-I don’t know,” you admitted, honestly. Benny furrowed his brows and moved up as well, resting on his elbows as he watched you carefully.

“What do you mean?” He asked, nervously.

“It… Ouch, it hurts,” you told him and winced out of pain.

Benny sat up now and reached his hand to the small lamp on the nightstand table. He turned it on and moved back to you. His rough hands cupped your face and you saw nothing but pure panic in his baby blue eyes. You wanted to comfort him but another sharp pain filled your abdomen as you let out a hiss and groan.

“Fuck, I think it’s time, Benny,” you told him and glanced at the clock. “Wow, the little one really does have a sense of time! It’s three in the morning, god damn it,” you tried to joke a little but Benny didn’t even smile while his face turned a few shades paler.

You moved his wrists away and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to stand up slowly but after a short while, your husband snapped back to reality. He jumped out of bed and hurried to your side.

“No, no, no, you wait here, I… I gotta call Johnny, yeah? We gotta borrow Betty’s car and… Where’s your hospital bag?” He began pacing around the room.

“Benny, calm down, please, it’s not helping me,” you sighed. “The bag’s downstairs already, by the front door.”

Benny nodded and rushed out of the bedroom after grabbing a pair of trousers out of the wardrobe to put them on in the meantime. He was on his way to the telephone because you didn’t own your own car – yet. Thankfully, Johnny and Betty had told you that you could wake them any time and they’d take you to the hospital.

While waiting for him, you were sitting on the edge of your bed and caressing your bump slowly as you tried to take deep breaths in to calm yourself down. Benny was back upstairs very quickly and put on a simple white T-shirt before he approached you with a worried expression on his face.

“Listen, baby, they’re on their way now, we should get goin’,” he crouched down in front of you and rubbed your thighs soothingly. “How you feelin’?”

“Gonna be honest with ya, not very great, been better,” you chuckled at him but he didn’t find it funny. In fact, he looked… sorry? “It’s not your fault, Benny,” you assured him. “Well, technically…”

“I’m sorry I can’t do more. That I can’t make it stop hurting,” he confessed and you were a bit taken aback by such words from Benny Cross himself.

“I wouldn’t want you to feel this pain,” you only cracked a smile at him and caressed his face. “However, I wouldn’t mind sharing some of it with you,” you winked and he stood up to help you do that as well, very gently.

Benny held you by your arms and walked you out of the room. The stairs were the biggest challenge, however, with his gentle guidance and soft encouraging words, you managed to finally walk downstairs. Benny helped you to put a coat over your nightgown and he changed your shoes before grabbing the hospital bag and taking you outside where both Johnny and Betty had been already waiting in her car. It felt very nice to have them both there – they were a real family.

“Don’t worry, baby, it’ll be fine! I’ve been there twice!” Betty looked out of the car’s window to wave at you. “Jump in,” she opened the door and Benny helped you get inside. He placed the bag next to you and sat in the backseat, too.

“Thank you, Johnny,” he murmured and Johnny only nodded before starting the engine.

“Well, you can’t take her on the bike, can you?” Betty asked and you laughed as you imagined that.

“It would surely be a story to tell,” you pointed out.

“Benny, you okay?” Betty turned around to look at your husband and you turned your head to take a look as well. He was even paler than before now and his thigh was trembling. “You’re quiet… More than usual,” she pointed out.

“I’m fine,” he shrugged his arms.

You grabbed his hand to squeeze. You wanted to offer him some comfort but you also wanted to be able to relieve the tension whenever that sharping pain was filling your abdomen.

Thankfully, the hospital was not far away from where you lived. Johnny parked the car and all of you left the car. Johnny lit a cigarette and leaned on the vehicle but Betty joined you inside and you couldn’t be more grateful because Benny was so scared that he couldn’t answer any question asked by the receptionist and then the nurse.

“Are you staying with her?” Betty asked Benny and he gulped at the question. His panicked eyes found yours when you were laying on the hospital bed already; with a nurse preparing you for labour.

“You don’t have to, baby,” you assured him.

Of course you wanted him to be with you but you didn’t want to scare him even further or for him to make a scene and faint.

“I… I’m gonna stay,” Benny nodded at you and you furrowed your brows, surprised. “I just gotta smoke first,” he told you and you nodded back at him.

You watched him walk away and Betty approached you to squeeze your hand.

“He’s not comin’ back, is he?” You asked her.

“No, I don’t think so,” she chuckled and leaned in to kiss the top of your head. “Men aren’t much of a help anyway. You can do it, Mrs. Cross,” she winked at you and walked out as well.

You took a deep breath in and grinned back at an older nurse who had given you a sympathetic smile.

“Are you married for long, Mrs. Cross?” She asked you, trying to distract you from the painful contractions.

“Two years,” you answered.

“Ah, I see,” she hummed to herself. “That woman was someone from the family?”

“No, a friend. She and her husband took me to the hospital. My Benny didn’t buy a car yet,” you explained and she suddenly stopped smiling so nicely as if it was a crime to not be very wealthy. “He has a motorbike,” you told her but it only made her face turn even colder.

“Mhm, he’s one of those,” she commented and you didn’t say anything to that.

To your surprise, the door opened again and Benny walked back inside. You had never seen him in such a worried and stressed state but he sat right next to you and took your hand in his.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back,” you told him. “That you’d just smoke a pack or two outside the hospital until they tell you it’s over,” you explained what you meant.

“Johnny talked me out of it,” Benny confessed.

Few hours later, in the morning, you were already holding your little boy in your arms. You were exhausted and sleepy but you didn’t want to stop staring at his tiny face and beautiful little features. Everything about him was beautiful and fragile – tiny eyes, tiny nose, tiny head, tiny hands with tiny fingers and tiny feet with tiny toes. You watched in awe and Benny did, too, sitting by your side with one of his arms around you.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered and kissed your temple.

“And I’m proud of you, Benny Cross. You haven’t even fainted,” you chuckled and he rolled his eyes.

Benny reached his finger out to brush your little son’s cheek but he quickly took it away.

“What is it?” You asked him with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t wanna hurt ‘im. My fingers are rough and all that,” he explained.

“Don’t be silly, Benny, you won’t hurt him by touching him gently,” you encouraged him to touch his son again and so he did, very carefully. “You see?”

Benny didn’t answer, focusing on his baby. The soft and loving look on his face suddenly made all your fears wash away. You no longer feared he would leave or run away from this responsibility. Of course, you weren’t delusional enough to think it would be easy. But something about him at this moment made you sure that choosing him as a father of your child was no mistake after all.

“How do you want to name him?” You asked. “After your father perhaps?”

“No,” Benny answered very quickly and cleared his throat before looking at your confused face. “My ol’ man was a piece of shit. My ma told me once that when I was born he was pissed drunk at the bar.”

You nodded your head and you suddenly understood. You understood why Benny had been so nervous and why he had come back to be with you during the labour after all.

“Don’t wanna be like him,” he confessed suddenly and looked down.

“You won’t be,” you assured your husband and kissed his cheek. “You won’t be, baby. You already aren’t,” you pointed out. “Do you wanna name him John?” You changed the subject.

Benny looked at you with a soft smile before placing a kiss on your forehead. Then, he looked down at the little baby in your arms and he bopped his son on the nose.

“Little Johnny Cross. Sounds good to me.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[lilithyvenus]

acknowledging your mother wound and how to heal it - pick a card reading

hello there. i thought this would be a great introduction to my reading style, especially fitting as it's a monday. it's painful to accept that your mother was your first enemy. although the idea of a mother as we've been taught and shown onscreen (both big and small) is worth examining in itself (being self-sacrificial in vain, being one dimensional, etc), one should still be able to count on their mother to nurture their emotions. i hope you can find wholeness, with or without her.

for today's pile selection, we have marina as the housewife archetype from her electra heart era. extremely fitting with the album and the persona being an exploration of wounded versions of different feminine archetypes.

group one

your cards: strength in reverse + seven of cups in reverse + six of wands + judgment

your mother has instilled in you a fear of being seen, particularly in regards to achieving public-facing dreams. whether she was conscious of it or not, she has taught you to expect negative criticism and to be mistrustful of your own skill and capability. for those of you who are fat, she probably didn't even realise that her trying to make you smaller as a way to secure you better treatment in the world just reinforced that it's your body that makes you unworthy of adoration. you exist to be seen and valued for what you have to offer. this is not to say you won't be envied or spoken badly of, but that it is in the figurative cards for you to thrive, but only if you take the plunge. you work towards healing this wound by understanding that she was projecting onto you, clumsily attempting to save you from scrutiny, and most likely butter about her own dreams remaining unfulfilled. it is not my place to tell you to forgive her, only to understand that you have access to media that tells you you can be more, and she likely didn't at your age.

your channeled songs + films + books

- the beauty myth by naomi wolf

- i'm coming out by diana ross

- wicked (both the book and the musical; the former to explore how one is taught to loathe themselves and the latter to remember you can liberate yourself)

group two

your cards: eight of wands + knight of pentacles + queen of wands in reverse + seven of cups

similar to group one, your mother actively discourages you from pursuing your goals. however, she's definitely aware of what she's doing. she knows the power of her words over you, and she is masterful at making it seem like the seeds of doubt she plants are yours. she is draining you because it's easier to live with herself if you're both miserable, and you actually need to leave if you can. you heal this wound by accepting that she is absolutely the adult here and she knows better; there's only so much empathy you can have for someone who chooses to be cruel. you're being asked to remember that there's people around you who can help get you out of this, and that you don't have to gather proof of anything; you know she's making you feel awful, that's reason enough to hate her presence. for someone, it's okay to hold hate for her, it doesn't make you a bad person.

your channeled songs + films

- starring role by marina

- mother dearest

- girls in the hood by megan thee stallion

group three

your cards: queen of wands + eight of swords in reverse + king of wands in reverse + king of pentacles in reverse

is your mum homophobic and/or transphobic? first of all, she'll be dead in no time so she won't force you into heteronormative performance your whole life, don't worry. seriously though, someone here is being forced to perform a gender or a sexuality that doesn't align with them because their hating ass mum won't mind her own fucking business. in general, your mother is actively suppressing you learning how to stand by and for yourself. she has kept you from getting to explore who you are, expecting nothing but Good ChildTM from you, and whether she's aware of it or not, it's limiting your growth both internally and in the material world. you're being asked to acknowledge that you weren't made the way you are by accident, the only actual issue is bigotry that surrounds you. that is to say, trans and queer people aren't accidents, they just exist in a world full of bigots. what you can do is fully embrace yourself, because that's how you'll find your chosen family.

your channeled songs + films

- holy by jamila woods

- stone butch blues by leslie feinberg

- freaky friday (the one with lilo)

[kkencess]

AKAZA, feenin.

although it might be obvious, there’s one unspoken rule in a relationship. never admit you find another man attractive around your short-tempered husband.

𖤐 info ─── oneshot written by yours truly… i got this idea out of nowhere, and had to write it all before the dialogue disappeared from my head, lol! it was like three in the morning, but i somehow finished this. as an eighteen year old who just turned eighteen, i recommend reading if you’re sixteen, and up! if you aren’t, don’t mention it please!

𖤐 warnings ─── lowercase intended, female! reader, human! akaza, akaza is your fiancé, mild age gap, explicit content, dirty talk, rough sex [punishment sex?], crying, a lil praising, the one time akaza doesn’t respect women, muahaha! just kidding.

most people shamed others for taking on the role of the housewife, but at least for you; it was easy. in a large mansion like the one you lived in, it was only natural others would assume you had it hard. but in all honesty, you didn't. you didn't have any kids at the moment; so that alone was a bonus. cooking was a breeze since you enjoyed it so much, and cleaning wasn't bad since it hardly ever got untidy.

you lay soundlessly in bed, your eyes glued on the phone screen that rested in your hands. a housewife, and a senior in college. of course, all eyes were on you at all times. others often wondered how you scored a faithful husband at the age of twenty one; and honestly, you didn't have a clue yourself.

akaza wasn't in college, like you. he worked for a private organization; and was twenty-seven himself. you didn't have a problem with the miniature age gap; and slightly found it all the more attractive. don’t get you wrong or anything, men these days just weren't up to par. especially those around your age group, or younger. besides, you doubted you'd ever date someone younger than you.

your cheek is engulfed in your palm, black framed glasses falling from your face as you dive your head against the pillow. your glossy lips ruin your pillow, squinted eyes pulled close. you were all caught up on your assignments, surprisingly. you would graduate from college next month, before attending law school.

man.

the distant sound of keys jangling catches your attention, bringing you to raise your head from the pillow. you glance over towards the door, finding it still closed. whatever, your husband must’ve been home. that was great news, considering you were bored; and needed someone to bother. and a coping mechanism to separate your mind away from the stress of law school, and college overall.

you arise from the bed, sighing softly. just before you completely arised; the door opened, revealing a familiar black haired individual. settling down against the edge of the bed, you’re dressed in a cami tee, and shorts. with narrowed brows, you open your mouth to speak, head tilted. “damn, you were out longer than usual.”

akaza sighs, greeting you with a kiss against your forehead. “muzan requested a meeting.”

you roll your eyes at his typical response. “that man is extremely annoying. i’m sure his employees don’t get paid to take part in sudden meetings.”

the other shrugs, setting his suitcase down against the edge of the bed. the buttons of his suit top remained undone, slightly revealing the outline of his toned chest. of course, he worked out very often; but he looked insane. his body looked, and felt unrealistic. especially his muscles. and it was just perfect for you; deeming he often lounged around the house in nothing but sandals, and shorts. your husband looked fucking amazing.

“somewhat hot, but still annoying.” you finish, darting your eyes elsewhere.

akaza’s attention immediately snaps over to meet your own, blue eyes now settled on you. you’re completely silent, scanning the interior of the room with tapered eyes. your ridiculously pretty face is relaxed, though the last words to leave your mouth were completely out of line. you both knew there wasn’t any honesty behind any of what you just voiced, but the boldness of course; is what usually placed the cherry on the top.

“i’m sorry?” the earthy smell of man's cologne seeped from him dearly, infiltrating your nostrils quickly. the scent mashed well with his body wash. he smelled just as great as he looked. lusciously; you lick at your lips, bringing your eyes back over to meet your lover’s own irritation tainted ones.

“what are you saying sorry for?”

the man rolls his eyes, yet doesn’t settle for any more of your bullshit. maybe on a good day he would’ve fallen for it, but after such a long day at work, he figured it wasn’t necessarily worth the sacrifice. muttering something inaudible beneath his breath, he advances forward into another room; the bathroom.

you whine at the lack of attention, pressing your body up from the mattress to step on to the ground. you felt you had at least a bit of the right to be annoying. you hadn’t seen him in a little over twelve hours. those shifts were dangerous; especially to the wife of the man taking them. man, everytime you’d capture a glance at his boss, you’d send him a filthy glare. if there was anyone you truly hated in this world, you’d bet your ass it was fucking muzan, kibutsuji.

“well, that wasn’t fun.”

for what little of the day you had left, you spent your time preparing dinner. akaza hadn’t gotten out of the shower yet; but he always took long; so to you, it wasn’t anything out of character. you figured a breakfast styled dinner wouldn’t hurt. It was a fun choice as well, considering you were craving it these past few days. your husband was never too picky about dinner choices, so he should be fine with the option you settled for.

dinner was silent for the most part. you watched your lover, whilst spooning a mouth full of grits in between your lips.

“are you ignoring me?” you question, breaking the everlasting silence. you’re seated directly across from him, utensils aligned against the transparent glass table. you’re eyeing him shamelessly, cheek pressed against your palm. well, unfortunately for him; the silent treatment only worked in movies.

“it’s about the muzan comment, isn’t it?”

you hoist your legs up to meet akaza’s thigh, letting the anatomy settle hotly against his skin. you’re not completely facing his direction, but your body is angled to meet his. you’re still shoveling pieces of food into your mouth, chowing down on a sausage as you prepare your next bite. you adored how you looked around him, but never when you were eating. it’s not like you ate like a pig or anything, you were just comfortable enough to eat as you would alone.

“i don’t like being ignored, y’know.”

akaza would always answer you. and being who he was (your husband) of course, he knew you well. probably better than you did yourself. so of course, he was wary of the fact that you were a bitch for his attention. sometimes, he’d purposely pretend he couldn’t hear you just to stimulate some sort of reaction out of you. and every single time; it worked. miraculously, but it did.

“i’m aware, [name.]” his tone was stern; low and captivating. you have to press your legs close at the raw sound of it, an array of tingles pulsing through you like a shooting star. your legs dangle off of his own, your chair now pulled a bit closer to his own. the platform of your slippers pressed against the hem of his seating.

“you’re so pretty when you’re upset, babe.” though you were the one who spouted the compliment, your cheeks don’t of course fail to heat up. your tone is quite teasing as well, a playful smile grasping your lips.

“i'm not upset.” he clarifies, eyeing you momentarily. “you’d be a lot more attractive yourself if you stopped making jokes like that about my boss. it’s disrespectful.”

“huh, your boss?” you question, perking a brow. “what’s gonna happen if i don’t?” a smile slowly grasps your lips, eyes darting over to match a gorgeous blue pair.

you weren’t any idiot, of course. you knew he secretly enjoyed it when you talked back; because in a way, it riled him up even more. to fuck you into complete submission, that was. you could simply tell by the way his fingers grasped your ankle tonight would be worth its while.

your back hits the bed’s cushion quite roughly, though the hand grasped around your neck never detached itself from the stated anatomy. you’re pulled into a rough kiss, a soft groan emitted at the rather brutal force; though you were accustomed to it. the male kissed hotly against your lips, savoring every wince emitted, and the shudders performed. you’re pinned down against the cushion, either of your hands pulled against one another; as they’re pinned above your head; near the neatly stacked pillows nearby.

the spaghetti strap tee you wore was hauled up just a bit, revealing your pierced belly. hell, the lounge shorts you wore had ridden up to your mid thigh. a hand of his is free, to lap at the slick coating your thighs; your legs pulling apart to help give him a little more access to what should’ve been his most desirable target.

“you’re always so quiet when we finally go at it.” he started against your lips, where he kissed softly. a finger of his pressed against your clothed clit, earning a slight jolt from you.

you press your eyes shut as his fingers ride against your soaked parts; shutters emitted. he’s quick with his actions; the stated anatomy dipping past your soaked underwear and nearly into you; residing just near your entrance while he teased your clit with his available fingers.

you have to strain a gasp as he loses your lips; mouth now against your neck where he sucked, and bit. nonetheless he’s an expert. you were so fucking soaked and he had only kissed you. nothing else. maybe him being a man of his words played an odd part in it, but for now, you’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

“god, you’re soaking wet, baby. i’m gonna stuff you so fucking well.” cooed the older male, voice as silky as ever. his words alone were enough to increase the amount of pre-cum that currently seeped through your underwear, a shudder animated as you gasped into your palm, when he sunk a finger into you. not just one finger, but two. and his pace started unforgivingly.

he was already plunging his fingers into you with undeniable speed. you could feel the eagerness, your body jolting beneath his own. akaza stared you down mercilessly, lapping at his own lips with the soft pink flesh of his tongue. your fingers grasped desperately at his wrist as his digits pushed through, flush against your walls. you moan out in pleasure, the slight pain pushed quickly aside as you wriggled in his touch. “f—fuck!” you cursed, fingers caressing akaza’s tight muscles. they felt so fucking nice. he worked out often and it showed physically, thankfully.

“gonna come from just my fingers?” he questioned, shoving another one in without restraint. “shit, you are, aren’t you? you aren’t embarrassed?” your face was hot, flustered in mortification, as he confirmed. his words were rather teasing; although his voice remained silky. rather smooth, even. he worked his fingers like a damn god. he knew just what to do to keep you doused in pleasure, while simultaneously making sure it didn’t send you over the edge. it was clear he knew your body better than you did.

“t—to m-much!” you exasperated. it should’ve been criminal. the way your back arched from the bed as he worked his fingers delightfully. he chuckled coldly at your remark, head lowering; before he leveled himself out of your sight, and beneath your trembling thighs. he tore at your lace undergarments with ease, allowing them to fall against the bed’s soft cushion.

“is it?” he seethed, lapping at your pretty, now exposed pussy. your clit glistened with your own produce, spilling against the velvet colored sheets. akaza wasted no time, settling his tongue against the anatomy, circling it just perfectly. his fingers still plunged into you with brute force, his free hand clasped around your thigh harshly, where he gripped to make sure you didn’t escape his grasp.

“my god…” the only thing you could do was take in the pleasure, moaning as your hand pulled down to grasp at his hair. the grip he had on your thigh tightened, earning a wince of pain from you; though the overall pleasure you received from both his fingers, and mouth overthrew whatever pain you previously suffered. you were so fucking close, closer than ever. “akaza— shit. that feels amazing… don’t stop.”

you were positive he would let you cum. at least now. rapid blinks blinded you, your mouth pulled apart as lengthy moans made way. the knot in your stomach had only slightly undone itself; disappointment quickly washed over you when not one, but all of whatever pleasure you had been feeling before completely vanished.

“b-babe?” there wasn’t much time to react; your body quickly being pushed over. you were now laid flat against your stomach, body pressed into the cushion. your face was hot in embarrassment, mind scrambled. you didn’t know what to say. you could hear the male above you chuckle, his hands settled against torso; where his fingers grasped harshly at. you twitch in his caress, the warmth of his breath evident against your neck since he had resided so close to you.

it was quite thick, and heavy— only for what it was, that is. you guess you couldn’t be too mad, since things weren’t looking so bad for you. it was a shame you couldn’t see it, though. it looked pretty. and trust you, you weren’t at all exaggerating. a pretty pink tip, and gorgeous smooth skin following it. it had a perfect arch, one that could easily strike you in all of the right places. you got lightheaded thinking about it, swallowing hard as you await his actions.

“shit, m’gonna fuck you so hard… give you just what you wanted.” he says, either of his palms engulfing your ass. he spread you apart with ease, spatting out a thick wad of saliva against your entrance, that’d be his substitution for lube. you could only whine beneath him, as you mentally prepared yourself for the next few moments.

“you’re lucky i even gave you that much,” he spouts, cock pushing into your entrance. you have to bite into the sheets, limbs weakening as he pushes further, and further into you. with each push came deep breathy grunts, from akaza himself. he only stopped when his hips were locked against your ass, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist. you gasp out in pain, the lack of proper lube making it all the worse for you. not only that, did you even finger prep properly? he should’ve let you come, before.

“shit. you’re so tight, baby. so tight.” he started roughly, plunging in and out of you with an indescribable force. he was reckless, fucking into you with his own neediness. the tears that spiked your vision fell, staining the bed’s sheets. his grunts of pleasure only satisfies you, making you hot all over. he practically tore his way inside of you, yes— but of course, it always felt amazing soon after.

the pleasure gradually builds, moans spilling from your mouth as he delved even deeper into you, striking you in all the right spaces. there’s hardly any pain involved now; only strained moans and whimpers. you crumble beneath him, head hanging against the pillows— hurried, heavy pants occupying your eardrums. akaza couldn’t see your expression, and to be quite honest he was dying to— all he needed was a proper glance at your fucked out face.

so, he settles against the edge of the matress, only detaching himself from you for a second. in the next instant you're resting in his lap, his cock sinking into you without warning. this angle was even better than the last, though the part where he entered always hurt like a bitch. his free hand engulfed your chin, forcing it down so that your gaze matched your own. your eyes were hazy, eyelids hanging low— making it so that you could hardly even see. speckles of stars spiked your vision, vanishing once your eyes finally fell close.

“you’re a mess, sweetheart.” akaza says, tone low and sweet. saliva grazes your lips, hands weakly wrapping around akaza’s shoulders. you couldn’t say a thing— your body wouldn’t allow you to. no, your brain wouldn’t. all you could do was shut up and take whatever he had to offer, like how he knew you would. of course, akaza always got the last laugh. you started things off, but he’d finish them in an unbelievable way.

“shit, you’re making me feel so good. so good, baby.” he protests, a smile engulfing the lips of his pretty face as he takes either of your ankles in his hand, pulling them apart so that they are fully wrapped around his waist, ensuring that you took every inch of him. there wasn’t any running away in this position, and to be quite frank you weren’t upset with the lack of options.

“akaza…” you mutter, with what little strength you had. “m’gonna come…”

the male eyes the hardly evident bulge tracing your stomach, eyes soon tracing further up. he presses a kiss against the exposed skin of your chest, legs trembling as he nears his orgasm. his pace became desperate as he fucked rapidly into you, practically drilling you dry. your head is resting into his shoulder, hanging between the juncture of both his chin, and collarbone. your ass bounces against his cock, the wet sounds audible. dribbling past your lips was drool, that slid down akaza’s back, dipping into the curves of his muscles. you were far too weak to scratch at him, so for now all you could do was take it.

you wanted to speak up, in the least bit do something. it was hard hearing you anyways, when akaza moaned so desperately in your ear, whispering about how good you were; and how well you took him. he pressed a kiss between your chest, blue eyes tracing up your figure. his fingers grasped you roughly, in fact you were sure it would leave some kind of mark.

just another pump was enough to send him over the edge, specks of white shooting into you; not even a drop trickling down your thighs. it doesn’t take long for you to come after him, your mind going completely numb as you clang on desperately to his body. all you could hear were akaza’s strained breaths that seemed to never end. you didn’t know what to say, or do either. nonetheless, you couldn’t stay like this forever.

finally akaza catches himself, catching your chin in between his index finger, and thumb. there’s a slight upturn of his lips, pretty blue eyes eating at you disastrously.

“one more time.”

[dreamwavesexploringreality]

SHADOWS OF THE PAST:

NIGHT IN THE LIBRARY PT2

Niragi x reader

TW: Violence, physical harm, abuse of power… Niragi on his own can be a trigger warning…

The cold air of Borderlands burned in her lungs with every breath she took. Her heart raced frantically in her chest, and she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her body, still fresh from the last game she had faced.

In moments like these, wandering aimlessly looking for a place to spend the night, her mind traveled to her most inhospitable memories. She often thought of Niragi Suguru, the boy she had met in the library. Secretly, she had been fascinated by the bespectacled boy since the first time she saw him. It was almost a miracle that he had also felt some curiosity about her and had agreed to go on a simple coffee date. She remembered it as if it were yesterday, almost able to taste the cappuccino on her tongue. But that had been a long time ago. After that unexpected date came others, and then some more, and eventually, the inevitable happened: he kissed her. Y/N wouldn’t consider it the best kiss of her life, but without a doubt, it was the most special, the most real...

Now, all of that remained as vague memories hidden in her mind, casting light on an uncertain future. Sometimes she wondered if he was also in this world, trapped as she was. Then she dismissed the thought as if it were toxic; she didn’t want him to be in a place like this, her innocent and naive Niragi… no, he shouldn’t be in such a place.

Her thoughts were pushed to the background when she heard a scream not far from her position. Her heart raced once again as she tried to decide whether it was worth investigating. Y/N knew it would probably be foolish to approach the place where the screams were growing more and more desperate, but on the other hand, you never knew what the place had to offer... maybe she could get a weapon, or an ally in the best case. She decided to follow the sound of the voice.

She did so cautiously, moving through the shadows and hiding among buildings. She wasn’t willing to face whatever the situation was head-on, so when she got close enough to observe the scene, Y/N remained hidden behind the rubble of some huge building that had succumbed to that hostile land.

The screams and cries clearly came from a man on the ground who was being kicked mercilessly by a group of striking characters. Five, Y/N counted. "Five against one..." she thought.

"Do I have to repeat myself? Give me all your cards!" said one, who seemed to be the leader. He wore a printed t-shirt, and although Y/N couldn’t see his face from her position, it was evident that he emanated a dangerous and intimidating aura. “I would never want to have someone like that as an ally…” she thought, discarding the idea of seeking out a companion, the reason she had approached the scene.

"I told you! I don’t have anything, please, a group attacked me yesterday and took all my cards, maybe they were yours, your friends, definitely. Please don’t hurt me!" the man sobbed from the ground.

Y/N’s heart broke at the sound of that boy's plea for mercy; he couldn’t be much older than her and was just trying to survive, like anyone in that place. Y/N watched in panic as the man she had designated as the leader aimed a large shotgun directly at the man on the ground without hesitation.

"If you have nothing, you’re of no interest to us... Maybe we should get rid of a potential rival... What do you say?" His voice sounded maniacal and disturbing as he laughed along with his three companions.

“Wait… three companions?”

Y/N had no time to think much more when a rough yank on her arm pulled her out of her hiding place.

"Hey, look what I found! We have a little spy among us!" Y/N felt all attention shift to her, and her body froze as she realized the gravity of the situation she had gotten herself into.

The man continued to yank her arm until they reached the rest of the group and forced her to kneel violently beside the man still lying on the ground. She took a quick glance at the man, seeing his bloodied face and imagining the rest of the injuries he might have all over his body, and it was at that moment that she understood she wasn’t going to make it out alive.

“Well, well… what do we have here? What were you doing hiding there, sweetheart? Too shy to join the party?” said the leader, with a sweet and deceptively concerned voice as he crouched down to face her.

It was at that precise moment that two hearts stopped for an instant. There, kneeling before her, with more piercings and predatory eyes she could never have imagined, was Niragi. For a moment, she thought her mind was playing a cruel trick on her in what she considered one of the last moments of her life, but no, it was him. She recognized his facial features, his eyes, even his voice… he was Niragi, her Niragi… Although he might never be “her Niragi” again.

The man wasn’t much better off than her; he recognized her the moment she knelt before him and, for the first time in all the time he had been in Borderlands, his mask fell, and he didn’t know how to act. It was her… “What is she doing here? No, she can’t be here, no… Please, no…”

Neither of them noticed as one of the men rummaged through the girl’s pockets and pulled out a considerable stack of cards.

"Look, Niragi! She has tons of cards, she must be a good player. Maybe we should take her to the beach!"

Neither of them flinched, still lost in their own thoughts.

"Leave us" Niragi broke the silence with a dangerously low voice.

If the men accompanying him were surprised, they didn’t show it; they left, disappearing among the buildings, leaving the pair alone with the man still lying on the ground.

"Are you deaf? Get out!" Niragi barked aggressively, delivering a final kick, full of frustration, to the battered body of the man, who ran away as fast as he could, falling repeatedly.

Silence settled like an unwelcome intruder. Y/N remained kneeling on the ground, staring intently at the man’s face, trying to discern if all of this was real. Niragi, on his part, moved nervously, trying to look anywhere but at the woman still on the ground.

"Get up," he ordered, his voice slightly trembling, trying to regain some of the confidence he seemed to have in abundance until that moment.

Y/N did not obey; perhaps she didn’t even hear him. She was in shock. She couldn’t believe that the man standing before her, with a shotgun in hand, was the same shy, insecure, and withdrawn boy she had come to love. The last kiss they had shared at the doorway came to her mind suddenly, when he had walked her home shortly before the fireworks lit up the Tokyo sky. It had been a cautious, silent, and intimate kiss, sharing the promise of their love. “I couldn’t kiss this man,” she thought, immediately regretting it as she felt a hollow space in her stomach, remembering that this man was Niragi.

The boy sighed impatiently and yanked on the girl's arm, ignoring the spark he felt when touching her skin. He loved seeing people kneel before him, fearing for their lives and begging for his forgiveness… but not her. Something in his body ached and hurt to see her like this before him.

The girl forced herself to stand, not breaking her gaze from his. She reached out tentatively, needing to touch him, needing to know if he was really him, if behind the character her eyes were seeing, there was still the boy from their library nights.

Niragi pulled her arm away with more force than necessary, immediately regretting it. He couldn’t let her touch him, didn’t want to feel her caresses… didn’t want to stain her soul.

"What are you doing here?" he asked harshly, almost growling.

"Niragi…" she whispered. Hearing her own words, she knew at that moment that everything was real.

Niragi’s mask fell a little more upon hearing her voice, and he felt his walls threatening to collapse. No. He couldn’t cry. He wouldn’t.

"This place isn’t for you," he said, stepping brusquely away from her, picking up the cards from the ground that his companion had left. He examined them one by one.

"This isn’t a place for anyone. Not for you," Y/N countered, slowly returning to reality. She felt as though she was waking from a long dream. Niragi, her Niragi… that memory that had allowed her to survive in that place… it had all crumbled.

A sarcastic laugh escaped the man’s lips.

"What do you know? This is exactly my place, the place I’m meant to be…" A thousand unspoken words were left behind. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her, how many times he had thought about her and wished they were together. He wanted to tell her he loved her… But he couldn’t. Not there, not now.

Niragi watched as the girl’s gaze fell, those expectant eyes that had just collided with reality, and he put the deck of cards in his shirt pocket.

"You’re not like this…" Y/N began to say.

"And what do you know?" The words came out harsher than he intended. "This is who I am," he said with feigned pride.

"You’re a monster," she whispered. She wouldn’t have wanted to say it, but the words came out on their own; it was what she had been thinking since she saw him mistreat the man on the ground while hiding among the rubble.

That word pierced Niragi’s heart like a thousand burning daggers. It wasn’t the first time he had been referred to like that, but he never would have imagined Y/N calling him that, and he never would have imagined the pain it would bring.

"Get out. I’ll tell them you escaped," he said, making a heart-wrenching effort and facing the girl with false indifference. "Oh, but I’m taking this with me," he added, touching the pocket of his shirt where he had stored the girl’s cards.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes showing pain and disappointment.

"If that’s what you want," she spoke firmly, ignoring the pain in her heart. She looked at him one last time, trying to find in his gaze traces of the Niragi she knew, the one she loved. She didn’t find them. She turned away, leaving and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Niragi watched her turn that last time, sharing that final glance. Maybe he would never see her again; Borderlands was not a safe place. He was left alone, watching the place where the girl had vanished, as if hoping she would turn around and run into his arms, as she had done so many times in the past… He remained trembling under the stars, watching as the only light in his life disappeared once more before his eyes, this time because of his own fault. He could previously blame the fireworks that had deprived him of a happy future together… but not now. This was his fault, and he knew it.

© 2024 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

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Should I continue it?

I've taken some time to write the second part of the Niragi x reader story, and I really hope you enjoy it!

If there's enough interest and feedback, I might consider writing a 3rd PART or even turning it into a series. Your thoughts and comments are greatly appreciated!

[jellyrabbitz]

𝓜𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓔𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

Don't ever suppress your feelings in the name of the law of assumption or attraction.

Contrary to popular belief, feelings do not manifest; if you get sad over something and spiral for a little, that doesn't mean you're going to somehow attract more misery into your life, or that your manifestations will instantly fall apart.

Allow yourself to process your emotions. You don't have to remain in a happy or fulfilled state at all times to manifest. Many of you in this community seem to think you have to keep your 'mental diet' in check, but I don't believe it's necessary. Forcing yourself to think only positive and happy thoughts 24/7 is exhausting, isn't it? When I first joined this community, all it did was burn me out. I even began to experience lower back and hip pain because of how much I held in. Often I found myself thinking, "Why do I still feel so miserable even though I've supposedly been doing everything right?"

It's because shoving down your frustration and agony only riles it up more until it rears back up angrier and gnarlier than before, like a nasty untamed beast.

Don't be like me and simply let the emotions roll over you instead of fighting them. They're gone much quicker when you allow them to come.

Look, your manifestations will come regardless of how you feel. Think of it this way, you might get pissed over how long it's taking your package to arrive, but it's still on its way to you. So let it all out because there is nothing to worry about, you aren't going to ruin your 'package' just with some silly emotions. Seriously, don't listen to whoever came up with the whole 'negative emotions ruins your manifestation' bs.

Besides, 'perfect' people have their bad days as well. I see some coaches saying, "if you were your desired self, would they be having this negative thought?" Yeah, she might actually, because she's still a human being and not some unreachable goddess without emotions. Even people with their dream lives have negative thoughts just like anyone else. This idea that our 'ideal selves' have no negative thoughts or emotions EVER feels ridiculous to me.

Let's face it, it's normal for a lot of us in this community to feel discouraged. Trust me, I get it, it may look like nothing is going your way and this is all pointless. You might check the 3D and wilt when you realize nothing seems to have changed. There's nothing wrong with that! Checking the 3D is a normal thing for us to do-just like checking if our package is on the way-and I honestly think 'ignore the 3D' or 'the 3D isn't real' is harmful advice.

The way I like to see it is that the 3D is merely a reflection of my old and shitty thoughts that isn't permanent, and whenever I manifest it's like I'm planting a seed.

Instead of trying to force yourself to believe your 3D is perfect now, (which is extremely difficult for those of us who have terrible circumstances and can also be bad for your mental health) it may be better to acknowledge your current situation but know that it's changing.

I'd like to give an example from my own life, since I know my wording may seem confusing to some. A few weeks ago I received the news that my uncle was bound to die very soon, and they were putting him on a ventilator. Obviously I was upset after hearing this, and I allowed myself to wallow in sadness for a few minutes. Everyone around me was convinced he wouldn't make it.

Although I was miserable, I still persisted in the thought that he would pull through. I didn't even do any of my usual methods such as scripting and just told myself, "I know he will make it."

A few days later my aunt called me overjoyed. The hospital suddenly switched up and said he wasn't doing as bad as they thought, and he wouldn't even need the ventilator!

See? I still manifested even while I was sad, even while I had doubts, and he made it through. This is only one example of many.

You can manifest while feeling any emotion, even the acrid ones that feel like they're eating you up inside. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

[nesiacha]

One of the creepiest things among the many betrayals by Fouché for me

Yes, he did many horrible things, one of the most notorious being when his police tortured people, whether they were innocent or guilty, royalists or Jacobins, such as what happened in Lyon. Yes, he was involved in many schemes, sometimes horrifying (I will soon look into the case of Clément de Ris), betraying many people, including his colleagues and close ones (like Collot d'Herbois). But one of the creepiest things, in my opinion, concerns the Babeuf family, more specifically the sons of Gracchus Babeuf.

In Le Tribun du Peuple, at one point, Gracchus says that he had recommended his children to Fouché (Emile and Camille Babeuf, presumably), with this excerpt: "When I left to be exiled to the North, I believed I could place enough trust in you to recommend my children. They went to see you" (Le Tribun du Peuple, no. 35, 9 Frimaire, Year IV). Years later, Fouché struck a hard blow in the Jacobin arrest list, as Marie-Anne Babeuf, widow of Gracchus Babeuf, was included. Some claim she wasn't politically active, but I strongly doubt that: she was a woman known to be her husband's political right hand, with a terrifying strength of character who never renounced her husband's name, who campaigned politically, and who, even after his death, associated with prominent Jacobins like Felix Le Peletier, probably René Vatar, and others, as you can see in my posts here: Marie-Anne Babeuf: A Largely Forgotten Figure, In Honor of Gracchus Babeuf's Recent Anniversary, and Gracchus Babeuf's Position on Women's Rights. Moreover, this Jacobin arrest list met many specific criteria, even though among them were people who had committed nothing more than "insults and threats against the government" (excerpt from Natalie Petiteau) (in my opinion the widow Babeuf had to continue the fight in her own way like the widow of Marat as well as the sister of Marat hence the fact that she found herself in this list of arrests of the Jacobins in 1801 including with the two women after all Albertine Marat was a subscriber to the newspaper of the Tribun du Peuple). But for me, the worst part is the second time, during the First Malet Conspiracy case.

In fact, the widow Babeuf had her papers confiscated by the police and underwent a rather harsh interrogation, according to Jean Dautry. (This was the second time Marie-Anne Babeuf had run-ins with the Napoleonic police, and consequently, the second time Fouché targeted her). Marie-Anne Babeuf's son, Emile Babeuf, avoided arrest because, as far as I understand, he was in another country for work, so the police had no reason to arrest him.

So, Fouché, who had known Emile Babeuf as a child, years later attempted to have him arrested. Emile only avoided arrest because he was out of the country, if I understood correctly. Yes, Emile Babeuf would become an activist, but I don't think it was in that year. Furthermore, although the Babeufs were activists, they weren't involved in the First Malet Conspiracy (at least the confiscated papers were later returned).

Yes, I know that Fouché had manipulated Gracchus Babeuf until he realized who Fouché truly was and denounced him, but it still remains creepy. He knew well the wife of Gracchus Babeuf (that's certain, as she always assisted her husband) and their children (to the point where Gracchus temporarily trusted him with the welfare of his children, Emile and Camille). Years later, the repressive machine came down on them twice. I don't think Fouché can be excused by saying he was serving Bonaparte. I mean, Gaspard Monge protected Pache, Saint-Jean d'Angly protected Felix Le Peletier, and Réal probably protected the Babeufs.

Yes, we're likely talking about the destroyed friendship and even what Robespierre did to the Desmoulins couple, but I find what Fouché did, posthumously, to Gracchus Babeuf and especially to his children, creepy. With this, I think there's even more reason not to blame the widow of Collot d'Herbois for not standing in Fouché's way for what he did to her husband or for not fight for the political beliefs of her husband , and even for accepting the pension from Fouché. Just look at what he did to the Babeuf family. That's what would have happened to the widow of Collot d'Herbois in my opinion if she had opposed him.

P.S:If you want to learn more about the relationship between Gracchus Babeuf and Fouché, click here: Excerpts from Letters and Chapters of Historians.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Jonah Magnus. [...] I suppose I had always hoped there was a chance he was… innocent in all this. I know, I know. But I had – (sigh) I just – hoped that maybe the founding of the Institute was in earnest, and not simply the foundation-stone for all the terrible things that have happened here. But no. Whatever is happening now has its origins two hundred years ago, in the work of an evil man.

MAG 127, Remains to be seen

Why does a man seek to destroy the world? It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear. It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

MAG 160, The Eye Opens

March 2nd 1845 It is done, and I am surprised to find how little remorse I feel.

Protocol 27, Driven

Something about Jonah Magnus slowly uncovering the truth of his own nature, the length he will go to be safe and happy at the cost of everything and everyone else.....

The diary doesn't say, but did he have doubts while he selected Archibald, or was the fear only that Archibald wouldn't say yes, or that his friends would understand what he was planning to do?

I also love that the first entries don't let us see anything else than a man frustrated by not succeeding in his work, trying to keep faith that he is in the right direction, and then stumbling on something even greater and more dangerous that his curiosity won't let it forget. His mind WANTED to latch unto this, unto the Fears, to give back meaning to what he'd been doing. And, in doing so, he slowly realized his own selfishness, his own capacity for monstruosity... And he found it freeing.

Although we still can't know for Archives!Jonah, since he had started the Institute on his own and by 1845 in the Archives timeline already knew very well the Fears and had let some friends die over them to witness the effects, it DOES feel like protocol!Jonah DID start at a more "innocent" stage (or, at least, less endangering of others) like Jon had wanted to believe....

Jonah the man you are. I love you so much. Now that we had one glimpse at your diary I want seventy hundreds more....

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

"The Bad Batch" S3 Review- Spoilers

Alright guys, we made it. After 3 years of this lovely show, it has finally come to an end. I definitely plan on doing a review of the entire show and see where it fits with the other big animated shows. However, that will come after my Crosshair Character Study. For now, let's focus on S3. Like Season 2, I'd definitely say it's a solid 8.5/10 for me. Although, S2 might still be my favorite. I honestly think Rebels might be the only show that has a 9/10 final season for me. Look, I loved CW and Siege of Mandalore is phenomenal, but that Ahsoka arc was not it. The final season of TBB has so much I absolutely loved and so much I wished it handled better. So, let's jump right into it!

This season felt so different for me and I definitely know why. The story is much more plot driven than the first two. In the first two seasons, the Batch were more worried about survival and kinda just went on adventures all around the galaxy. The Empire really didn't know where they were so the stakes weren't as high. Crosshair himself was stuck in the Empire meaning he didn't focus on the Batch as much until they crossed paths with him.

S3, however, sees the Batch and Omega specifically being hunted relentlessly. They need to figure out what's going on or else they will never be free. This shift from the Batch galavanting around the galaxy to a more plot driven narrative does change things up. Looking back, I think the creative team just needed more time. S3 has so much going for it and there just isn't time to flesh out the ideas to their fullest potential. That being said, I am overall satisfied with everything they pulled off, especially Crosshair. This show has solidified him as one of my top 3 favorite SW characters and fave clone. He's so well-written and I adore him.

What I loved:

The atmosphere this season was so dark and I loved it. There was a maturity to the ideas and threat level that I honestly really appreciated. Just like Andor, TBB really demonstrates just how monstrous the Empire is. There is nothing that Palpatine won't do in order to achieve total domination and subjugation of the entire galaxy for all eternity. And Hemlock is right there beside him. That man's passion for his craft knows no bounds; it doesn't matter who's strapped to his table. It's so horrifying to think how Tantiss is probably just one of the many, many inhumane and monstrous things the Empire has running. TBB, like Andor, is peak Empire imo. If there was any doubt that this monstrosity could last as long as it did, these two shows erase it.

I also really loved the character relationships, particularly Omega and Crosshair. Their bond is so beautiful and reminiscent of ones I see in my own life. There's nothing Crosshair wouldn't do for her and it fits really neatly with who he is as a person. Omega brings out the best in him, just as she does all her brothers. This season really emphasized how much Omega's brothers have influenced her. Their lessons really come into play by the end of the season. To see her grow from a naive young girl into a mature (but still childish) teenager/pre-teen was beautiful.

Crosshair this season was everything to me. I could be here for hours talking about him. I was beyond thrilled with how they handled him. He has changed so much and this season highlights that growth in every way. Crosshair remains to be the best written character and nothing about him felt OOC. I loved his dynamics with the Batch and Omega. (The hugs were perfect)! I loved how his struggle was something he worked on the entire season; it wasn't just one and done. I love how the themes of trust were woven so perfectly into his story. Crosshair was perfect (I'll touch on the hand thing later). I couldn't have asked for more (except just give me more Crosshair. I will never be tired of him. I could watch a whole show of just him doing stuff).

I don't have a burning desire to punch Hunter anymore. Yay! But in all seriousness, I have developed a soft spot for him. As much as he got on my nerves in S1, I really do appreciate him a lot more. He does care deeply and has a lot he's struggling with.

Echo showing us why he's the ARC Trooper. Seriously, those scenes of him will always live rent free in my head.

Emerie! Really great character and very interesting.

*hides in a corner* Rampart.

The music and animation were phenomenal. Honestly, both were flawless. The music in particular moved me to tears several times. Props to the animators and Kiners because this is some of their finest work yet. That one shot of Crosshair catching CX-2's knife was outstanding.

I also loved the action, seeing the boys fight together, and final shot of the Batch + the epilogue. There is so much I adored in those moments and the rush of emotions I got each time. The epilogue was so personal and I might do a separate write up on it.

The themes of family and hope were also front and center and I loved every second of it. If anyone asks why I love TBB, it's because this is show about family more than anything. The Batch are a family and seeing them learn to be one is so beautiful. It means so much that Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair got to settle down together and raise Omega. It's just beautiful.

What I didn't like:

I wanted more deep convos. Whether it was because of a preference for action or time constraints, the writers just needed to have more deep character emotions and let them sink in. It's why "The Outpost" and Tech's convo with Omega are so well loved; they let us really be with the characters. I wish S3 had more of those moments because they make this show that much better. I just wanted more. And I know this show is capable of that. It sucks knowing what it could've been. So many moments could've hit more had they been given time to breathe or worked in a bit differently.

The way Tech was handled. Hats off for actually keeping him dead. I just wish we got proper closure on that 😐. Although Tech's death looms largely over the Batch, it feels like the writers brushed it off. Why didn't we get a scene of Crosshair learning what happened? I know the time skip implies they all processed Tech's death, but it still felt like something was missing. It felt like the writers expected us to also process it like the Batch and move on. Except, we're not the Batch. We don't know what went on in their heads because they're fictional. The audience relies on the writers to show us that grieving process and we don't get it. It also didn't help that it felt like they were baiting us with CX-2 at times.

Some of the plot lines being dropped for plot/time reasons. Look, I know that it's about the Batch and their journey on becoming a family. However, it felt like more was being set up and it might go no where. One thing I love about TBB in general is how it showed us how the Empire began to change the galaxy the moment Palpatine got what he wanted: total dominance. Clones began to take a stand. Talks of rebellion were already being whispered. I just hope that these storylines revolving around Rex, Riyo, and Echo don't wither away because TBB has ended. Or the Ventress thing. I know they said she'll be back but who knows when that'll happen. I also wanted to know more about the CX Program. That’s what fanfics are for, am I right?

The pacing was brutally fast. This ties into my points about the narrative being more plot driven and lack of time to fully flesh out ideas. It felt like there was almost no room to breathe at times because we jumped from plot point to plot point as each episode progressed. Don't get me wrong, TBB handled this way better than Ahsoka, but I just needed like two more episodes of the boys and Omega running around, ok?

Overall, this season just needed time.

What I am neutral on:

Scorch. Man was done dirty, but I didn't know who he was til this season. Sorry guys. Including him and not giving him anything wasn't a good idea imo though.

Crosshair's hand. I get both sides of the argument, I really do. First off, I'm a sucker for whump. I can't help it. Also, you can say that him losing his hand connects to him severing himself from Tantiss and the pain he went through. But at the same time, Crosshair's trauma isn't going to magically vanish by just chopping off his hand. If anything, it'll just add to the trauma. I applaud the writers for dealing with such a sensitive topic, but from a certain POV the hand chop is a quick fix to a storyline that could've had more substance with another season. I'm neutral on it because again, I see both sides of the argument. I think if we got more of a reaction from Cross, the situation would've been more clear (he was doing some crazy compartmentalization during the back half of the finale, let's be honest here).

Anyways, that's my review of S3 of TBB. Despite it's flaws, this little show still went out on a high note and I am very pleased with it. I love TBB with all my heart and I will hold it cherish it forever. Until next time everyone. I will still be talking about Crosshair and this show, don't worry. No matter what, I will never tire of this beautiful family ❤️

[intoanotherworld23]

Princes Choice II

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: None maybe just some minor tension

Summary: Everyone knows about the royal family the Evanses, especially their promiscuous son, Chris. Then one night they invite all the women, and their parents to a ball to make a major announcement that will change your life forever

✨Please do not copy and paste my work or steal it or take credit for it without my permission or else I will have you reported✨

Part 1

"Is there a guest room where I can stay?" Politely asking the queen as you stood in Chris's massive bedroom. "I just don't feel comfortable staying here just yet."

"Oh is something the matter?" She genuinely looked concerned that something happened between you and her son.

"No nothings wrong." Waving your hands back and forth relief flushed across her face. "It's just I would feel much better with my own room at least until I start getting to know him better."

"Of course we've prepared one for you just in case." She smiled warmly at you as she led you further down the hall. "If you'll follow me."

There were no way in hell that you were going to be staying in the same bed as him. He'd probably jump you first thing, and then say he was bored or make up some lame reason to break it off. Not doubting his natural talent for lying just to get what he wants.

Although his mother looked a tad disappointed when you made the comment you did. Almost like she expected you to just accept everything, and enjoy jumping in his bed. She was also probably just thrilled that he picked someone to marry anyway.

"Your here as a guest you know." She spoke as you looked over at her. "You can leave anytime you want."

"I guess I'm just still having a hard time believing that he picked me to be his wife." Her eyes remained straight ahead.

"I honestly didn't believe he would pick someone either." She admitted with a chuckle. "He was so against this at first, and when he knew we were serious he accepted things."

"Has he ever wanted to marry?" Timidly asking her as she looked over at you this time.

"Never. He's been against marriage ever since he was a young boy." Her words didn't comfort you, but the smile she gave you suggested he's changed.

"I hope this is more to your liking." Stepping into another large room this one feeling more warm and comforting.

"This is perfect." You smiled turning to face the queen. "Thank you so much."

"Chris is in his study right now, but he should be down by dinner time." She informed you even though you didn't ask.

"What time is dinner?"

"Dinner will be served by eight." Talking about food had your stomach grumbling.

"Should I wear anything specific?" Looking down at your jeans and shirt feeling like a slob compared to her.

"A dress would be appropriate." Nodding your head noticing your discomfort right away. "But you wear whatever feels comfortable to you."

"Thank you your majesty." Bowing your head down.

"Please call me Lisa."

"Thank you.. Lisa." You we're just glad she was sweet and kind, and not rude and cruel like some people said she was.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" She asked hands clasped in front of her.

"Oh no thank you I'm good." Bowing her head down to you.

"If you need anything at all please don't hesitate to let me know." Nodding back at her as she curtsied turning back around to walk back down the hall.

Plopping down on the bed the thick comforter cushioning your bottom as you looked around. Leaning back on the palms of your hands shaking your head back and forth not believing you were actually here. Wondering if maybe you were just dreaming this, and you couldn't find it in yourself to wake up.

Your mother bawled the whole time as you packed. Rolling your eyes as she told story after story of when you were little. She was more happy about this marriage then you were. Your father really didn't show too much expression, but he didn't dare to object to this marriage. Your mother would kill him.

Standing up you went over to your small bags of personal items figuring this was a good a time as any to start unpacking. This was going to be your new life now, and you might as well start accepting it. Plus you might be able to divorce him and then be done with him.

"Miss Y/L/N." A deep voice rang on the other side of the door catching your attention.

"Come in." Clearing your throat as you stood up a young man opening the door a tray in his hand.

"Sorry ma'am I was asked to bring some food to your room." His tone soft and gentle he was a good looking man.

"Oh okay thanks." Placing the tray on the table as you awkwardly stood there.

"You must be the lucky bride to be." He spoke as he stood by the door hands behind his back.

"Yep I'm the golden ticket winner." Jokingly answering which he thankfully found amusing.

"Not what you wanted huh?" His question caught you a little off guard not expecting someone like him to be talking to you like this.

"Well I'm not exactly fond of what you'd call an arranged marriage." Raising your fingers in an air quote motion.

"Yeah I wouldn't be happy if I had to marry him either." Raising your brows at him to explain further. "He's what you'd call a spoiled little boy who likes to play with his favorite toys."

"Doesn't surprise me." You scoffed realizing that night he talked to you was all a front. "I should have known he was that kind."

"That's usually how he does it. Sweet talks them, gets them into bed, and then once he's done with them he tosses them into the dirt."

"How do you know so much?" You asked him placing your hands on your hips.

"I've seen it way too many times." His tone sympathetic towards you with this information. “So many beautiful women hurt.”

"Great." Grumbling under your breath as he laughed.

"You'll be fine.  The service here is great, and the food and wine is even better." He joked teasingly cracking a smile on your lips.

"Well keep the bottles of wine coming." Pointing a finger at him with a serious but playful look on your face.

"Will do ma'am." Nodding his hand at your request.

"Please call me Y/N." Waving your hand at him. "What's your name?"

"It's Sebastian Stan."

"Well its nice to meet you Sebastian." Smiling widely at him as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Staring at him for quick minute you took in such boyish qualities about this man. His eyes were soft and his skin looked smooth and warm. There was something about this man that had you feeling a sense of comfort. He seemed like he genuinely had a good heart, and wondered why you couldn't marry someone like him.

"How are you liking the castle?" He curiously asked just wanting to make small talk.

"It's a little overwhelming I gotta admit." You chuckled nervously. "I think I'm gonna need a map or something."

"The longer you stay the more familiar you'll become with the place." His words were an attempt to make you feel better. "Soon you'll know this place like the back of your hand."

"I don't know I have trouble with the backs of my hands sometimes." Cracking a lame joke but it earned you a soft chuckle.

"I should get back to my duties." Turning around to face the door. "Please let me know if you need anything."

Shutting the door behind him as you walked over to the silver tray covered in different little sandwiches and fruits. Thank god his mother caught on to how hungry you were otherwise you would have fainted before dinner.

Smacking your lips together as you devoured the sandwiches moaning at how good everything tasted. This was the best sandwich that you've ever tasted, and couldn't wait for dinner now. Wondering what kinds of delicious meals they would have prepared for you tonight.

Speaking of tonight you needed to figure out what you were going to wear. She told you to dress comfortably but you wanted to look like you belonged. Even if it wasn't exactly the ideal situation you were still living in a castle with the royal family.

Walking over to the book case with many shelves filled with books. Reading the different titles until something stood out to you. Landing on something interesting as you got into bed figuring make time go faster by reading until it was dinner time.

Looking at the clock you figured you might as well start looking for something to wear. Removing your shirt and bra tossing them in air, but not hearing them hit the ground. Shrugging it off as you walked over to the closet to find a dress. Hands on your hips as your eyes raked across the different clothes they already had packed.

"Now you just need to take your pants off." A deep voice startling you with a jump.

"What the fuck?" You screamed at the smirking man your arms covering your breasts.

"Don't stop dressing on my account." He actually dared to step closer to you making you back up into the dresser. "Not the first time I've seen a naked woman before."

"How long have you been standing there?" You asked him curiously.

"Not long enough apparently." His eyes trailing your figure then landing back on yours.

"Spy on a lot women do ya?" Your remark and tone condescending.

"I've never had the need to spy on women." He responded back truthfully. "I usually get what I want."

"God you're a pig." Scoffing at the man disliking the way he talked about women.

"You still need to take your pants off sweetheart." Looking down at your legs picturing what you looked like underneath.

"Get out." Nodding your head back towards the door but he just simply smiled back at you. "Now."

"That's no way to speak to your fiancé." Tsking like a parent scorning their child.

"Technically you've never asked me so." Feeling proud that you were right on this matter.

"Okay." Watching as he got down on one knee and you immediately started to panic.

"Well don't ask me now." Barking at him as he smiled at your reaction.

"Whatever you say sweetheart." Chuckling as he stood up with groan. "But you will become my wife."

"Yeah when hell freezes over." Grumbling under your breath but he heard it anyway.

"I can have that arranged for you if you'd like." He always had something to say back.

"Not surprised you're probably butt buddies with the devil himself." Sneering at him watching his smile slowly fading.

Not saying a word Chris stomped towards you until his chest was practically pressed up against you. Staring at you his nostrils flaring every time he inhaled. Your body was frozen to the ground unable to move. You could actually feel the heat radiating from his body.

Staring deep into his eyes as they slowly started to turn dark. He was trapping you like some helpless little animal. As much as you wanted to run away from him you couldn't find it in yourself to do that. As much as you wanted to smack him from trying to watch you change you couldn't.

His head leaning forward so his lips were barely touching the skin of your shoulder. Chris inhaling deeply to get a whiff of your scent moaning quietly his approval. You on the other hand were breathing heavily your chest heaving up and down. Your stomach was doing somersaults, and you were failing at trying to remain calm.

"If I were you I would stay on my good side." He whispered into your ear his breath hitting your skin making goosebumps appear.

"I didn't realize you had a good side." Blurting out before you could stop yourself his mouth barely touching you as he smirked loving how you didn't take his crap.

"That mouth is going to get you in trouble." Feeling his lips drag across the side of your neck to your shoulder leaving a tingling feeling on your skin.

You don't know what it was or what was happening, but you found yourself for a brief moment not wanting him to move. He smelled so good you wanted to just wrap your arms around him and hold on until your arms gave up. It was like he had you under some kind of spell and you couldn't snap out of it.

There was so much tension between you two you could cut it with a knife. Chris just wanting nothing more than to press his lips against yours. You needed to break free from this trance before something happened between you two.

"Can you please leave so I can finished getting changed?" Your voice cracked and you knew Chris could hear it, but you just hoped he wouldn't say anything.

"Well since you've asked nicely." Pushing himself away from you with restraint.

Turning around to walk back towards the door stopping with his hand on the ledge. His head facing you as he looked at you with almost a look of concern of worry. Scrunching your face as you choked back whether he should say something or not.

“I never told you this but you are absolutely positively gorgeous.” You almost rolled your eyes at his sweet and tender words.

“You probably have that line memorized saying it so many times.” Scoffing as you crossed your arms across your chest.

“True but I’ve never meant it before.” He smiled genuinely making it hard for you to not smile back. “There’s just something about you.”

His eyes didn’t wonder up and down your body like you expected him to. Instead they remained glued to yours. The corner of your lip twitching as you fought to smile at him or say anything back. You felt bad not responding, but you wanted him to know that you weren’t going to fall so easily for his games.

"If you meet Sebastian Stan please stay away." Moving your head back confused to what the meaning of his words meant.

"And why should I?" You bit back.

"Just please stay away from him he's not who you think he is." Was his last warning before he shut the door behind him. The hell did he mean by that.

[feruslands]

My sketch fanfic "Vader/Ferus"

For @reconstructwriter who inspired me to continue this long, heavy story and for everyone who loves "Vader/Ferus" (later Anakin/Ferus)

"Daddy Feri", part 7

Warnings: rape, cruelty

The next day, Darth Sidious gave the order to go on a new mission, and for the first time Vader realized that he did not want to go anywhere, but he could only postpone the mission.

"My Master, my body is not responding well. I need three days to undergo a set of medical procedures,” Vader said.

Palpatine pursed his lips in annoyance.

“Just one day and fly out immediately,” Sith hissed and cut the connection.

Palpatine was angry that his apprentice did not have the initiative characteristic of him, but it did not matter to Vader — the reckoning would be later, and now he could forget about the exhausting service for a while and be alone with himself. The Sith had a choice of how to spend this day – to start Leia's training or to undergo a course of medical procedures himself. And he chose the procedures without hesitation.

Vader felt that he was deceiving himself in some ways, but he couldn't figure out what. He had long buried Anakin Skywalker inside himself, but sometimes he was visited by unpleasant thoughts that neither Skywalker nor Darth Vader had ever lived their lives. Their lives have always been subordinated to something or someone else. 

Darth Vader hated the Jedi, but at the same time he hated his service to Palpatine. He traveled from one planet to another, suppressing riots, strengthening the power of the Empire, but for every defeated people, there was always another who took up weapons. The riots seemed to be rising in an endless stream of armed uprisings. Vader even had a tempting thought about the sudden death of the Emperor, but he understood very well that he alone would not be able to hold such power in his hands.

Vader wondered if he was really irreplaceable and unique, was he the chosen one of the Force?

He didn't know how many more years it would take him to crush all the rebellions and slaughter all the remaining Jedi, but every year Palpatine took over more and more power, and Vader began to doubt his own need, by the time the entire galaxy was completely deposed at Palpatine's feet.

All his thoughts boiled down to the fact that he had always been just an expendable item in the hands of the great puppeteer. And he sometimes felt trapped by himself, from which he saw no way out.

The regular rapes he committed on the old enemy became his outlet, he needed it like a drug. His body had demanded sexual pleasure for all the years he'd missed, and Vader wasn't going to deny himself that.

Thus, although Olin annoyed him, the Sith still found him useful. Vader's anxious thoughts receded as he forcibly took over the Jedi's body and enjoyed his own undivided power. He was especially acutely aware of his superiority while Ferus was trying to break free, struggling on the floor under him and howling in pain. And Vader felt pleasure, always vivid and incredible. And he couldn't get enough of it.

After the rape, he absorbed the hot, undisguised emotions of the man lying on the floor and sobbing. It was amazing how morally crushed and miserable Ferus became after their forced intercourse. And all this gave Vader satisfaction, his pain, his humiliation, his tears and his great shame. As if the Jedi had nothing else to worry about, just his shamefully fucked, naked, bleeding ass. 

"The shy bitch," the Sith thought with contempt.

He left this fucked-up shy bitch in the care of medical droids and went on the mission. This task turned out to be incredibly boring and long. The worst part was that the planet resembled Tatooine in its climate and landscape. The endless hot desert around the dome that protected the city from the fierce heat was getting on his nerves. He felt like a pickled vegetable in a jar, even though he knew that his armor's thermoregulation systems were perfectly fine-tuned.

When the election of the new ruler of the planet was completed, Vader very effectively and brutally crushed an attempt at rebellion by the opposition, and ordered his subordinates to immediately get out of this disgusting, arid planet. On the way to the Vjun, he reported to the Master that the task was completed, but Sidious ordered him to immediately turn to the capital. Vader knew exactly why. The emperor's personal audience with lightning strikes as a treat is the usual punishment for any disobedience.

He was carried out of the throne room of Sidious on a stretcher because he lost consciousness from the pain. The lightning strikes even damaged his armor. When Vader was taken to the Destroyer, he locked himself in his cabin and did not leave it until the end of the flight.

Wounded, angry, with damaged armor, Darth Vader hardly moved through the rooms of his fortress, and sent mental curses to Palpatine.

The maintenance droids loaded him into a bacta tank and he did not get out for a day. After that, he began to fully repair his armor, but on the same day he received a call from Palpatine demanding that he go on a new mission.

"What's the matter? Do you need long-term treatment and procedures again?" The Master asked.

Such the condescendingly mocking tone made Vader feel even more furious.

"Preferably," Vader replied calmly.

Palpatine's eyes flashed angrily.

“You can perform your medical procedures right on the Devastator. So you won't have to come back to the Vjun so often.”

"Yes, Master. But then I need a complete refurbishment of my personal quarters on the Devastator. The Bacta tank is not enough. I need to build an isolated capsule, and supply it with all the necessary medical equipment, as well…

"Do what you want in your apartment, I don't care," Sidious barked and cut the connection.

Vader smiled at his small victory. Sometimes the fact of his terrible disability could be used as a means of manipulation.

The Sith did not tolerate delay, so he immediately broadcast orders to the Destroyer to prepare for the conversion of his apartments. He only regretted that he couldn't carry Ferus in his pocket like a purebred animal.

But could anyone have prevented him from doing so? No one in the galaxy knew about the captured Jedi, not even Palpatine. Vader went to the next deception of his Master not only easily, but also with pleasure. Olin will be more useful if he is locked in a small cell on a Star Destroyer. And Vader quickly figured out how to do it.

Ferus felt that Vader had returned from his last mission not only embittered, but also wounded. He believed that the Sith had received his wounds and damage to the suit during the battle. Hoping that the Imperial army lost the battle to the rebels would be too positive, but if they suffered such serious losses, it was undoubtedly a good start.

Isolated from the outside world, the Jedi was deprived of the opportunity to observe the political situation in the galaxy, but even in the last year of his wanderings, he noticed a sharp dissatisfaction with Palpatine's policies to the point that many peaceful peoples began to take up arms to fight for their freedom. He wished the rebels luck in his mind, hoping that one day many worlds would unite to fight the Empire.

During his captivity, the Jedi managed to sufficiently study the bestial nature of his captor. Ferus knew that Vader would take it out on him for any of his failures or just because of his rotten mood. That's how it happened this time. At the moment when Vader appeared in the cell, Ferus was meditating, he was looking for a way to protect Leia from the rotten influence of darkness. Leia often had tantrums and cried almost every day for no reason.

Ferus's attempts to contact the Force probably displeased his jailer very much.

“Get undressed, whore,” Vader kicked the Jedi with his heavy metal prosthesis. 

“I won't.”

“Great, then I'll do it myself. ” Vader hurled the Jedi to the floor with a torrent of Force

Ferus saw his sadistic pleasure. Vader, as always, was generous with insults and blows, but this time he also mocked the prisoner and the philosophy of the Jedi.

"And where is your entire Order now?" Sith hissed as he tore off his clothes. Vader leaned on top of him and pinned his superheavy prosthetic body to the floor.

"What will your Jedi Code tell you about this? " Vader asked mockingly as he shoved his dick into the ass of the resisting prisoner.

“«There is no emotion, there is peace», right? Or maybe my dick isn't in your dumb ass right now? Or is there, right?” the Sith just laughed at his helplessness and continued to fuck him roughly.

During intercourse, the Sith made vile sounds resembling something between the roar of a predator, the grunting of a fat Hutt and the creaking of an old droid. Ferus didn't respond to the rapist anymore, so as not to anger this scum even more. But he couldn't hold back the tears because of the pain. The only good thing about this situation was that while Vader was dealing with him, he wasn't paying attention to Leia.

Olin spent the next night in the medical unit. While the droids were treating him, he dreamed that the bastard who was raping him would leave as soon as possible. Palpatine often gave Vader lengthy assignments, but this time Vader unpleasantly surprised him when he informed him the next morning that they were flying together.

“For what?” There was concern in the Jedi's voice, he felt fear for Leia. Did the baby have to stay alone for a few weeks?

Vader didn't know if Olin was pretending to be an idiot or if it was a natural emotion, but he liked the confusion on his face.

“You're asking for what?” Vader asked mockingly, "Of course, so that I can use you for your intended purpose. And for that, I will smuggle you onto the Destroyer secretly, and no one will even know about your existence. You will live in a cramped cell like an animal.

Ferus froze, his face becoming like a mask.

“Why are you so surprised, Olin?” Vader continued to mock him, "What other use can you be? You're a half-educated Padawan, not a Jedi Master. You are a disgusting warrior. You're a lousy babysitter for a kid. But maybe you'll make a capable slut? So I will take you with me to use you to the fullest, that is, daily for my satisfaction.”

Everything inside Ferus snapped. His escape plan in Vader's absence had just been ruined.

“What about Leia?” Olin asked .

It stung Vader uncomfortably that the Jedi was worried about Leia.

“She'll be waiting for us here. And she's going to have to become very obedient for me to want to bring you back here alive. The same goes for you.”

"And what did she do to deserve it?"  Ferus asked indignantly.

Vader saw the Jedi's growing anger and it poured out in response. He didn't like that he was so worried about the baby.

“You annoy me,” Vader slapped him across the face, "Before you try to raise your voice at me again, you mud, remember that punishment will come.”

Ferus fell from the second blow to the stomach.

“Say goodbye to her before I change my mind.” Vader waved his hand, triggering the command to open the door mechanism.

Leia was standing in the open doorway. She rushed to Dad as soon as she saw him.

Through the pain in his head, the Jedi could feel his growing anger. He realized that Vader had already informed Leia about everything. Ferus should have told her such unpleasant news himself to mitigate this traumatic event, but Vader was damn elated at any manifestation of his stinking power, he couldn't help but make this moment painful for both of them. The Sith had easily doomed Leia to the frightening ordeal of being forced to leave her parent, and Ferus hated him for it.

Ferus sat down on the floor in front of Leia. And the girl looked at him in fascination. His gaze was so soothing. At such moments, Leia was not afraid. She believed him. He's her dad no matter what.

Suddenly Ferus's eyes widened sharply, his face froze in horror, he felt only a sharp pain and numbness in his back. It was Vader who slammed a syringe with a temporarily heart-stopping drug under his shoulder blade.

Ferus's body instantly became sluggish, he couldn't even scream. Instead of hugging Leia goodbye, he fell face down on the floor. Vader managed to catch him before hitting the floor and casually smoothed out some long black package.

Leia blinked in disbelief, screamed wildly and rushed to Ferus.

Vader restrained her by Force, he ordered two security droids to grab her.

The Sith stuffed the unconscious Jedi into a thick black bag. Such bags were used on imperial ships to pack rebel corpses.

And the girl looked at it with horror and unsuccessfully tried to escape from the hands of the droids.

“Did you remember your assignment well?” Vader demanded.

Leia couldn't speak, she nodded quickly. 

“If you fail and let me down, instead of “Daddy Feri” I will bring you a small box with soot. You're old enough to understand what this soot is going to be made of, aren't you, girl?”

Leia was choking on tears, she nodded, and promised to do everything, and begged to bring her dear daddy back.

"Very good," Vader said, and slung the body wrapped in the black bag over his shoulder, “I'll come back and check it out.”

[levisolace]

[1] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 1: Windex and Baking Soda

WC: 7,182 Chapter Warnings: slight angst Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. story masterlist > next chapter

“It’s always my pleasure, Mr. Brown.”

The corporate smile on your face drops as soon as you hit the end button in the video call application on your laptop. It was the first meeting of the day with a client and you were already exhausted, wanting nothing but to go home and curl up in bed, heavily surrounded by your pillows and weighted blanket for hours. But you know that’s a dream that would remain a fantasy for a while. Why? Because it’s a Monday. It’s only the start of the week and judging from the pile of paperwork delivered to your desk this morning, you would have to work overtime again for the third week in a row. 

Being recently hired by one of the top leading firms in the country is a blessing you will be thankful for every day but as the week goes by and you’re on your fifth pile of paperwork, more than ten meetings in one week, you can’t help but think what would it be like to work for a small, quiet firm. You shrug those thoughts away as soon as they come. You’re grateful for the more-than-average salary the firm provides, at least.

The day went on as it always does: hours of you trying to ignore your back pain. It was becoming unbearable and you can’t even use the ointments your grandmother used to insist you use because it would no doubt infest the building with its smell—your reputation and first impression from your coworkers is at stake. 

As you’re typing back an email from your superior, Atty. Dot Pixis, you halt when you feel the buzzing on your table. You pick it up mindlessly, checking to see the notification. A smile spreads on your face to see that it’s your previous boss, Vanessa. 

hey. how’s working with the big leagues?? pixis is not tiring you out too much is he?? i can give him a word if you want.

pixis is treating me really well, nes. thank u for checking up on me! i miss everyone there at the firm and little ian :(( 

Vanessa, besides being your former boss back in Olsen & Associates, is also your friend and self-proclaimed older sister. She's a well-known attorney, and Olsen is a legend back in law school because she’s an alumnus who’s actually cool and doesn’t have their head up their asses. However, after deciding to settle down and start a family, she opened up a small firm in her hometown. 

i might just have to visit bc i miss my little sis :(( should’ve never let u leave

technically, it’s your fault i left 

i know :( don't remind me

Two months ago, Vanessa told you that ODM is hiring and Pixis contacted her to see if she knows anyone to take the job. Your jaw dropped to the ground when she told you she recommended you and you can send in your resume if you’re interested. It was an offer no one could pass up so before you knew it, you were being hauled into a hours-long bus ride and then anxiously seated for an interview in the city you used to live in. And after about a week of being a nervous wreck waiting for their response, you were contacted that you’ve been selected for the position.

Now here you are, finally settled in your office. You still can’t believe you have your own space in this huge building. You would’ve never thought you’d be working here in the firm you only used to stare at in awe while passing by years ago. 

Although, you have to admit that you miss the warm feeling of the small firm where you all know each other, exchange heartfelt greetings, and gossip when there are not too many clients. Now, you pass by a new face every now and then, most not even bothering to greet you or spare you a look. You can’t blame them. The work here is drastic. 

By the time you left the office, it’s already dark and way past office hours. As you were driving home, you remembered you still needed a few supplies in your apartment. You haven’t exactly settled yourself in, prioritizing work more. God, you even still had a few boxes to unpack. 

You stopped by a 24-hour supermarket that you spotted on your way to work this morning when you had to reroute because of the traffic. It was a little out of the way but it would do. It was still two hours before midnight, anyway.

As you drag your feet through the aisles and drop whatever you felt like you needed in the cart, unwanted memories come creeping in. The air in Paradis City is still the same. Even if a few buildings might have changed or some stores you used to frequent have closed down, it was still the same Paradis you knew—a buzzing city filled with dreams. The streets are never empty, famously congested by students from top universities or office workers. 

When you got the offer for the job, you weighed out the pros and cons. There were only two cons you were able to determine:

You don’t want to leave Olsen & Associates and Vanessa’s hometown, Trost, and

You’d be going back to your hometown, the one you promised not to go back to. 

The pros outweigh the cons, obviously. That weight being the thick fat salary you would be getting. Besides, Paradis is huge and has like three million residents. It’s not like you’d cross paths with him. And it’s been years. He probably forgot all about you anyway. You barely think about him. It was just a silly puppy-love relationship. No biggie.

Keep telling yourself that.

Shut up. 

“That one’s better.”

A voice directed to you made you snap out of your thoughts. It made you painfully aware of how you had been staring at the two options of green tea in your hand for probably more than the normal minutes it takes one to decide. The tall brunette had on a face mask covering half his face, his hair parted in the middle, and he wore a simple light blue button-down and black slacks. He was about two feet away from you when he pointed at the tea canister in your right hand. 

“Oh. Thanks,” you replied sheepishly. Desperate to run away from the embarrassment of zoning out in the middle of a public space, you take his advice and put down the canister on your left hand back to the shelf. 

“You’re welcome. I see my friend drinking it all the time so it has to be good,” he nods and you see his cheeks prop up, probably sporting a smile beneath the mask. You smiled back and thanked him again.

“Can you grab that one for me?” He points at a sweet one, a flavor in contrast with the green tea you chose. It was on the shelf being blocked by your cart beside you. You quickly mutter an apology and reach for a can. 

“My fiancée prefers her tea fruity,” he explains even if you didn’t ask, his ears tinted a bit red from his own statement. You immediately find it endearing. He seems very fond of his partner as he continues to babble about her. “Well actually, she prefers coffee with an unhealthy amount of espresso shots but I eventually persuaded her to drink tea once in a while.” 

“Moby! I know we usually don’t get this brand but guess what? This has a free pink sponge!” 

You freeze at the sound of that awfully loud and familiar cheerful voice heading towards you at a fast pace. You couldn’t turn your head. Your fingers unconsciously grip the can you’re holding harshly with wide eyes. Silently, you were wishing that the person just had the same voice as the crazed tall woman with glasses you used to know or the man beside you isn’t named ‘Moby.’ The former would hardly be the case because from the sound of the voice, the personality of being uncaring of the silent atmosphere of the supermarket, and the way she ran excitedly from your peripheral vision, you were sure that this person was your old friend Hange. For the latter, your last hope dies down as you see the stranger turn his head at the sound of his name and reply with a sigh.

“What the hell are you gonna do with a sponge, babe? We have lots of sponges.”

“Okay but imagine! We swap out Levi’s sponge with a pink one.” 

“I don’t think Levi cares about the color as long as it cleans.”

The fight or flight response in you went crazy at the mention of the name you haven’t heard in years, heavily leaning on the former. You could just hand this guy named Moby’s tea and make a run for it. You doubt Hange would care while being heavily invested in her free pink sponge. 

But why would you run? You only run when you’re scared or did something wrong. Which is it? It can't be the latter, right? 

I did. 

Oh? So you did. You’re scared, huh? That she’d get angry at you for what you did back then. 

I am. 

Run then. That’s all you know to do anyway.

Shut up. Leave me alone. 

“Miss? Are you okay?” 

For the second time in front of the same stranger, you were snapped out of your trance and find yourself gripping the can so hard that you think you’ve made a light dent on the can. Damn, you should really get a decent amount of sleep. You’ve been losing it a lot lately. 

You shake your head and slap your cheek lightly with your free hand. “Sorry. Lack of sleep. I’m fine. Here.” 

You turn to him and hand him the can, hoping he wouldn’t mind the barely noticeable dent you made. Purposely, you don’t stray your eyes away from the man. You don’t want to be the first person to acknowledge Hange. Maybe she doesn’t even remember you. Maybe she doesn’t even want to acknowledge you. 

“Greenie?” 

It was more of a mutter. But with how loud Hanji’s voice is, you and Moby clearly heard it. 

That’s when you look at her and actually see her. She looks the same as you saw her last. Her brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and her brown eyes were covered by thick-rimmed glasses. Nothing much has changed from her appearance except for the disappearance of the youthful look now replaced by maturity. Her gaze is fixed on you, slack-jawed. Her reaction doesn’t surprise or faze you, having expected that much. It’s what would follow that you’re nervous about. What would she say? Will she get angry at you? Or will she even remember who you are? Somehow, you dread that last possible outcome worst. 

“H-Hange,” you breathily let out. You wonder if it’s audible. 

Her fiancé also looks shocked, staring at you and then back to Hanji with widened eyes. “This is Greenie? The Greenie?” He points at you while asking Hange who was still frozen. His tone and reference to you immediately tell you that you have been discussed with people you never met, no doubt now knowing your past with them. 

Greenie. You haven’t heard that nickname in a while. 

It was silent for a few seconds, eyes not straying from each other. You probably look apologetic—scared, even. The man beside her is waiting too. You think he’s having a mini breakdown in disbelief. 

When you see her start to lunge at you, you shut your eyes, expecting her palm to collide with your cheek. You expect her to slap you and scream at you in the middle of the cold supermarket. You expect her to ask you where you got the nerve to come back to the city after all you’ve done. 

Instead, what she did broke down all your expectations. 

Long and slender arms wrap around your figure, pulling you tightly to her chest. Your face is squished against the fabric of her fluffy parka jacket. Even if you suddenly have trouble breathing with how tight her hug is, you were thankful that it covered your face and how you were biting your lower lip, trying to suppress the relief that comes with tears.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

You couldn’t even answer. Or move at all. Not that you even know what to say. 

“Hange. You’re killing her.” You hear her partner say. Hange instantly loosens her grip on you, muttering an apology with a slight chuckle. When she looks down at you, you give her a gentle smile.

“I missed you too, Hange.” And you meant it. 

The tall woman was still not letting you go, arms wrapped just below your shoulders because of the height difference. Even if you were caged in her arms, you can still tilt your head up to look at her. Suddenly, tears started streaming down her face as she tilts her head down to you, her mouth quivering. Then it turns into full-on sobbing. You chuckle as she starts swaying you with her, going side to side like a pendulum as she sobs while wailing your name repeatedly. 

There was no stopping Hange when she gets like this. So you let it happen. You let her hug you like she did many times before. You relish the moment, wanting to pass out and let loose in her hold. Maybe you’re dreaming and you’ll wake up in your bed, filled with disappointment and yearning for some warmth.

When she was satisfied, she let you go and introduced you to Moblit, her fiancé and coworker. They walked with you as you continued to shop, telling you stories about her and Moblit. Thankfully for your sake, she didn’t ask you much about yourself or what happened when you were away. She just asked how you were doing right now and what you were doing in the city. Although you were scared that the news would get to him, you told her the truth that you recently got hired at the law firm. 

“So you moved back then? Like permanently?” Her brows raised in excitement. 

“Well, I have a temporary contract for six months before I’m permanently employed there so hopefully,” you shrug while heading to checkout. As expected, Hange doesn’t care that you practically explained that it’s technically a ‘not yet,’ she shrieks and jumps up and down anyway. 

“Oh my god, this is perfect! Greenie, one of my bridesmaids had to back out but we already had the dress paid and it’s a no-refund. Can you step in for her and attend our wedding? Would you? Please? Please?” Hange begs you, hands clasped together as she stares at you with puppy eyes and a pout. 

You stop in your tracks and feel your heart sink to the ground. She wants you to attend her wedding knowing that many, if not everyone, you used to know will be there. And if his name was so casually mentioned earlier, that meant that they were still very much best friends and he would definitely be there.

And a few minutes ago you were convincing yourself that you wouldn’t accidentally run into him in this city. Now, you have to actually see him and be in the same room for a few hours? 

You start with a chuckle. “Oh. I wouldn’t mean to impose—” 

You were abruptly overpowered by her loud negation. “No, you wouldn’t! Everyone would be ecstatic to see you! I swear.” 

“But—“

Hange sighs dramatically, shoulders slumping with a pout on her face. “I guess it’d be too much, wouldn’t it? You’re probably busy, right? Right. Sorry, I just got excited.” She turns to her boyfriend. “Moby, can you pay for our stuff and Greenie’s too?” 

“What?”

Your eyes widened but before you could protest or take a strong hold on your cart, Moblit was already dragging it away and sending a flying kiss to Hange who giggled like a schoolgirl to catch it with her fist. You turn to her in disbelief as he turns his back. She catches your face, knowing what you’re about to say. 

“It’s fine. That won’t make a dent in his bank account.”

Just like that, you were painfully reminded how no one could get a word in with Hange. 

“Un-fucking-believeable.” 

Niccolo, the training chef, flinched from behind him when the silver-eyed man let out an unprovoked profanity as he entered the restaurant. Connie, his loyal secretary, doesn’t even bat an eye at the unprofessional behavior of his boss, only following behind him with a straight face. 

“Shithead. Call Nile later. Tell him I want a new team on this…” his words halt in disgust as he sees the unfinished, poorly done walls of what was to be a new branch of Kuchel’s. “or I’ll fire his stupid construction company out of every damn project. Verbatim.” 

“Will do, sir.” Connie nods, mentally sighing. Not only is he used to hearing the profanities, but he’s also used to being ordered to say it too. 

Levi nods at his secretary’s response, eager to leave the abomination that was supposed to be at 80% progress at this date. As he turns, he’s faced with Connie and a blonde man he doesn’t know. 

“Who’s this?” 

The blonde man practically shivered at his haze, the corner of his lips twitching at the sides. It was a sad attempt at a smile. Mentally, Connie sighed at his boss’ unfocused mind when there was something that greatly irritates him. The trainee chef was just literally in the car with them and Levi told Connie to bring the chef with them on the way to check the new location. 

“This is Niccolo, sir. He was in the car with us. He’s the one highly considered by the HR,” Connie expertly answered. 

“So you’re on the last stage,” Levi addresses Niccolo. The nervous man gulps but answers. “Yes, sir.” 

Connie watches the exchange, feeling a bit of pity for the tall man cowering at the gaze of such a short guy with a temper taller than a skyscraper. He was exactly like this when Levi interviewed him for the position. 

“Sorry, I had to make a detour because some shitheads can’t do their job right. Let’s go.” 

And so Niccolo and Connie followed the grumpy man back to the vehicle they just got not even three minutes ago. 

Not that he knew what to expect or had guesses but Niccolo was utterly surprised that he was brought to the first Kuchel’s restaurant. The legendary one that went viral. 

When he passed by the reception area, his eyes widened when he saw the reservation list filled with no spots left. It was practically booked for the month from what he saw. 

The kitchen smelled amazing, each one of the cooks was busy and they actually looked happy while working. They worked with so much coordination and laughter like he had never seen before. 

He thought that he’d train or cook with them today, seeing as they’re Kuchel’s main branch’s team. He was excited too. But again, Levi surprises him when he pushes another door open from the kitchen, revealing a staircase. The man says nothing but climbs upstairs. 

Confused but too scared to ask, Niccolo only stares at Connie but who beckons him to follow him up the stairs. When he sees Levi take a glance behind him, his feet move on its own, following the cold short man’s steps.

He sees a living room first. It’s a simple home but maintained well enough to look pristine. He kept on following Levi as he eventually led him to a kitchen. Levi turned to him and he’d be lying if he said that his heart didn’t jump at his sudden order. 

“Do whatever you like. You have an hour.” 

And then he leaves the kitchen, leaving Niccolo confused as he looks around at the domestic kitchen. He sees Connie, Levi’s assistant aggressively mouthing the words ‘cook anything’ as he follows Levi back to the living room. 

“Good job. I think he liked it.” 

Connie whispers to Niccolo before he leaves. Normally, he isn’t allowed to tell the training chefs what Levi thinks. But he’s feeling a little silly and Niccolo is his friend and his best friend, Sasha’s, boyfriend. 

Just like all the other training chefs, Levi brought Niccolo to his old home to cook something for him. Levi is hella picky with them but Connie could see that he actually liked his friend’s food. There was no pursing of lips, which was the worst of them all. Connie had to scramble and get the trainee out before he burst the room into a myriad of colorful words no one wants to hear. 

When they got back to the office, Hange was already there and most probably uninvited. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, four eyes?” 

Levi’s eyes were seething with annoyance as he sees his friend sitting at his desk on his chair, spinning around like an idiot. It was hard to believe that this woman is a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. 

“Shorty! You’re here!” She exclaimed, slamming her hands down on the fine wood of Levi’s desk to stop the chair from spinning. 

“Get the fuck up before I strangle you to death, Hange.” 

Hange chuckles but stands up anyway, skipping before plopping herself on the couch in Levi’s office. “Can you relax? I was just here to remind you that I’m getting married.” 

Levi groans and rolls his eyes. “Who would fucking forget, Hange? You text a fucking countdown at seven in the morning in the group chat tagged to everyone. The mute option has been fucking useless since you learned how to do it.” 

Levi sits down on his chair and switches on his computer to return to work despite his friend’s unsolicited visit to his office. 

“Oh! I wanted to ask you something too! Do you have a date for the wedding? So I can take note of a plus one, maybe?” 

He gives a blank stare to his friend for a second before turning back to his screen. “You know you can ask me that through a phone call, right?” He began typing away on his laptop, answering a few emails Connie forwarded to him. 

“Well, you blocked my number so I thought that you’d rather see me in person.” Hange shrugs with a grin.

Levi pauses, remembering that he did block Hange’s number that one night she insisted for he come over and watch a horror movie with Erwin and Moblit. He was working and couldn’t turn his phone on do not disturb mode so he had to specifically block Hange’s calls. He then proceeds to forget to unblock her until now. 

“So, no date?” Hange presses further. 

Levi grunts, annoyed at the stupid question. “Who the fuck am I gonna bring? It’s not like I’m gonna bring a random girl to your wedding, Hange.” 

“You totally could. They’re called escorts,” Hange suggests like a know-it-all.

“I don’t want a random stranger in your wedding pictures, four eyes.” 

“I would rather have that than see you so depressing in my pictures with your bitch face. Oh! Want me to set you up on a blind date?” Hange’s voice rises again, something that happens when she gets excited over an idea. 

“Fuck no,” Levi spat. 

“Your last serious relationship was decades ago, Levi. Give it a try again.” 

If looks could kill, funeral flowers would be thrown at Hange’s casket instead of wedding flowers. His fingers hover over the keyboard, hanging frozen at her words. At the mere implication of you, his blood boils and his chest tightens. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Well–”

“Are you saying I’m not over her again, Hange?” 

Before she could answer, the door swung open, revealing a tall blonde man with thick eyebrows who was grinning cheek to cheek. Great. Erwin’s here. Maybe they could send a few more uninvited people, order greasy pizza, and have a party in his office. 

“Over who?” Erwin asks, ever the gossip man. Levi grunts and rests his forehead in his palms as Hange greets Erwin enthusiastically before answering.

“You know who.”

Erwin narrows his eyes at Levi before sitting down on the other edge of the couch. Hange tells him about getting a blind date. “You could try, Hange. I’ve set him up with surprise blind dates before and you know how that went.” 

“Can you two fucking shut up and leave? I’m trying to work here,” Levi spat in annoyance. The pair ignores his grumbling, carrying on their conversation like he wasn’t in the room.

“But I have never set him up with someone before,” Hange points out. 

Erwin purses his lips. “I doubt that you can find a girl better than me, Hange. I tried everything.” 

Erwin and Hange look at each other with mischief, clearly enjoying Levi’s suffering from their teasing. He knows they won’t stop. If anything, it only egged them on further.

Hange places a finger on her chin obnoxiously. “Maybe you could ask the girl to wear green next time.” 

Erwin nods, crossing his arms like he’s actually considering it. “Absolutely. We all know Levi still loves his greenie.” 

God, even her nickname is a pain to hear. 

Levi slams a hand down his mahogany desk so loud that people outside his office probably heard it. It didn’t faze his friends who were snickering on the couch though. They know he’s about to blow. He’s so frustrated that he almost ran a finger through his well-kept hair but caught himself before damaging it, exhaling loudly in frustration before speaking. 

“Look, you dipshits. I told you a thousand times. Forget about that damned woman. I’m not dating because I’m goddamn busy with all these expansions, not because I’m not over a girl who left us all without a fucking trace.” Every word is laced with venom and he ends it with a huff. 

“Fine. We get it. You’re over her but you’re still angry at her.” Hange rolls her eyes. 

Levi doesn’t know exactly when they started referring to her as mere stories or inside jokes. But evidently, it turned out that way. They used to be hurt at the thought of her disappearing. Slowly, they started to forget. Except him. He’s still angry and confused when he thinks of a reason why. 

“I am,” he admits.

“And if she comes to see you again? What will you do?” 

This question again, Levi thinks. 

He sighs. Like an automated machine, he answers the question as he did a myriad of times before, the first being the answer to one of your stupid games of what-if questions when you were together. Most were just ways to make him say those damn three words to you. It was usually just dumb things like “What if I was a worm?” and he would roll his eyes and tell you that he would unhesitatingly kill you before kissing you when you frown in disappointment. One question, however, deeply offended him more than anything. 

“Levi, what if I asked you to break up with me?” 

You were sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs, still reeling from the sad romantic movie the two of you watched where the disabled paralyzed man still decides to die even after he fell in love with his caregiver. 

Levi, who’s in the middle of choosing another movie from your collection of DVDs, freezes in his seat. He doesn’t turn to look at you but you see his whole body tensed up having heard what you said.

“What if we break up like that?” 

You repeat the question with a pout on your lips. Levi finally looks at you with a frown on his face. He sighs and looks away, gaze lifting up for a second as if he’s thinking. 

“No,” he answers even if the question upsets him. “We’re not gonna break up.”

You noticed that his mood falters from your question.  Feeling a little bad, you wrap a hand around his bicep, pulling yourself close to his side. With a smile, you lean in and give him a peck on the cheek. “Don’t be sad. It was just hypothetical.”

He instantly leans unto you. He always does so when you’re near—like opposite sides of a magnet being pulled together by force. He always wants to be near you.

“Can you just go back to stupid questions like the worm shit?” He asks with a low voice, faces too close to each other that his lips could brush yours. 

You give him a teasing grin and hum, nodding but doing the exact opposite of what he asked. Ever his stubborn girl, you continue asking. “But what if I leave you?” 

He glares at you, not very pained this time, knowing it’s just you teasing again. Instead, his brows furrowed as he gazed down at you with his silver eyes. His eyes flick down to your lips and his lower lip brushes against yours for a millisecond. When you were sure he was about to kiss you, he shoves a hand at your face and pushes you away with a little force, making you land on the couch on your back. 

You laugh but curse him out loud for his attack. Levi huffs, crossing his arms and looking away. 

“If you do that, I will ignore you for the rest of my fucking life. You’re dead to me.” He says it with so much conviction that you know he doesn’t mean a word of it. 

You sit up again, frowning then lightly slapping his shoulder. “That’s rude. What if I come back to see you, then?” 

He scoffs loudly, still looking away from you, and spots his box of cleaning supplies. Then, he says the second thing that comes into his mind, thinking that the first one he thought of would seem desperate and pathetic of him. 

He opens his mouth to speak and the words you hear from him causes an ever louder laugh out of you. He smiles before pushing you on your back again. This time, pulling himself on top of you and sealing your lips with a kiss. 

“I’d spray her with some fucking Windex, throw baking soda on her stupid face, and kick her out.” 

Usually, the statement is so funny to them that it ends the conversation. Sometimes, he even gives them a demonstration where one of their unlucky friends gets to be on the receiving end. But this time, Erwin has a follow-up question that goes straight to Levi’s chest.

“And if she insists on staying? What will you do?” 

Levi went quiet. Hange and Erwin give a knowing sad look at each other that Levi doesn’t catch. They didn’t mean to push him this hard. But they had to know if he was ready. 

From just outside his door where Connie’s desk is placed, his secretary listens in as well. He heard about his boss’ ex. The whole office knows about it. His mysterious ex and the only woman Levi Ackerman loved. That was what everyone knew. But from spending too much time with his boss more than he wanted to, Connie had learned the following about his boss’ only relationship:

Her nickname is Greenie because she liked green tea. Levi prefers black tea but he accidentally told you he liked green tea too then ran with it for four months until Hanji revealed the truth accidentally.

The four of them knew each other for a long time. He doesn’t know if they met in high school or college. But in school, definitely.

After getting their undergraduate degree, she asked Levi to break up and broke his heart with words.

After the breakup, she disappeared from Paradis. Levi waited for her for a long time, broken and yearning. She didn’t come back. Now, all Levi has is bitterness in his body.

Those are what Connie gathered from his little detective skills to cope with having to work under the horribly mannered man. Then, he shares it with his best friend, Sasha, during his lunch break. 

He listens a little more, the email he was reading sitting idle for longer than it should. His boss still doesn’t answer. 

Inside, Erwin and Hange await their friend’s reply who is still lost in his own thoughts. Erwin decides to push him one last time. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

“If she comes to you for closure, will you accept it? You’re over her, right? You can stay angry, that’s valid. She did you wrong. But will you at least hear her?” 

Levi keeps quiet but listens to Erwin. The word closure gives his stomach an unsettling feeling. It felt wrong to hear it. But it doesn’t matter. His friends were just bored and bluffing again. He can bluff too. 

“I don’t really care about her as much as you think I still do. When I see her, I’ll do what I said I would. Then it’s done. I don’t care what she does anymore.” 

It’s been five days since you coincidentally met Hange and Moblit. Before you parted ways, you exchanged numbers and your old friend has been messaging you nonstop. You appreciated it. Hange was always light-hearted and kind. You’re glad she found someone who appreciates her and takes care of her. So when she mentioned that there was a conflict with the invitations, you offered to fix it for her, knowing a thing or two about it. You handled project management a few times as an intern. 

There was once a time when you called her your best friend. You know that’s a title you no longer hold but either way, you were glad to talk to her again. Even if you know that in the very near future, you would have to face what it holds for you. Now that Hange is back in your life, it’s only a matter of time and you’d have to see your ex again. You lie awake at night thinking of what you’d do then. 

It was Saturday. That means no work for you after lunch, thankfully. You ground through your paper works and clients like a corporate machine all week, wanting to finish them before Saturday so you wouldn’t have to go overtime on a weekend. And after about nine cups of highly caffeinated green tea, you finally finished all your work for the week. Now free from the shackles of labor and capitalism, you slung your tote bag over your shoulder and headed out of your office and onto the elevator. 

Passing by Pixis’ office, you inform him you’re taking your leave which he cheerfully allowed, wishing you a happy weekend before you left his office. You bid him to have the same and left the building, anxious to see through the next events of the day. If this was a normal weekend, you’d be content with wasting away in bed as soon as you rushed home. 

You handled the invitations over the week, using your break time to oversee how it’s going with the printing service you trust for things like this. They generously accepted your request for a rush order, knowing who you are. 

The invitations were piled into a box on your coffee table by Friday, ready to be sent out to Hange’s guests. When you texted Hange that they were ready, she sent over her apartment’s address, telling you to personally meet her there on Saturday after work. She argues when you tell her you can just send it in the same day through an app, whining about how she wants to hang out with you. 

Hange, ever the persuasive and persistent person, got you to agree. That, and you still feel guilty for declining her invitation to her wedding. 

After you press the doorbell, you wait patiently with your left hand holding the small box of invitations. Her apartment was apparently a penthouse. An apartment in this building already costs an arm and a leg. Hange is smart and talented, one of her research must’ve been really successful. You also remembered that she was probably living with Moblit here. Ah, the wonders of having a partner in life—shared rent. Maybe you should get a roommate. 

When the door was taking too long to be answered, you shoot up a text for Hange. 

hey i’m here outside ur door ! :)) 

ok! just wAit a bit

It didn’t take Hange long to reply, easing your anxiety a little. When it takes more than a minute after she sends her text, you tilt your head in confusion. Are you at the correct address? Maybe you’re at the wrong unit. You were pretty sure you were on the right one, though. You rechecked it a few times. 

You wait a little bit more before ringing the doorbell again. You assume she’s probably grossed into something and can’t take the door at the moment. With a sigh, you wait a few more minutes, turning away from the door and deciding to scroll through your social media accounts that you barely use. 

A smile involuntarily plasters itself on your face when you see the posts of your coworkers from Trost. Warmth spreads to your chest as you see the office through the pictures, reminiscing your time there. It’s suddenly frightening, the realization that you’re alone in this huge city with no one to turn to. It’s a feeling you’re awfully familiar with, a state you’d rather not return to. 

When you feel yourself drift away to those thoughts, you pull yourself away immediately, figuring that the time you waited should be enough to press the doorbell again. 

But as you turn around to press it for the second time, the door swings open harshly in a swift motion, making you jump a little in surprise and fear as you hear an annoyed groan from a man that is most definitely not Hange coming with it. 

“For fuck’s sake. Did Hange give a woman my addre…”

The two of you froze. 

The raven-dark hair parted in the middle. The undercut. Those gray eyes and his beautiful piercing gaze. Those high cheekbones and soft cheeks. Those furrowed brows and scrunched forehead that was softly dissipated from his face when he sees you standing behind the door. Those delicate pink lips, now parted in awe and mirroring yours.

Neither of you can move like you were frozen in time. Every muscle in your body refused to move. Your brain stopped functioning and wasn't even able to conjure a coherent thought, much less a response. The only thing you could do was stare at the man you once called home. 

He still had dark under eyes but they were more prominent than before. You hate how it still suited him even if you hated how little he sleeps; they make his gaze heavier, willing you to get lost with him. A few strands of his fringe fall over his eyes. They were a little longer than what you were used to but it was still the same haircut you used to run your hand over when you were cuddling. It was a little unkempt. And even though his white shirt is a little crumpled, it still smoothly falls over his frame. It drapes from his defined shoulders to his waist until the hem of the shirt goes over the band of his gray sweatpants that hugged his legs loosely. 

He breaks the gaze spell when his eyes go over you, top to bottom. He stares at your shocked and devastated countenance, the casual but decent clothes that you changed into after work, the box in your hand, and the way your right foot has stepped further back than your left when he opened the door, ready to run away at the thought the man who opened the door was angry. 

You open your mouth to speak. You know you have to say something. Anything. Hi? Hello? How are you? Is this where Hange lives? Why the fuck do you still look so hot? 

But none of that comes out.

Why? 

Levi’s face hardens before you can speak, wiping off the bewildered eyes and replacing them with his infamous glare, silver eyes glistening with specks of anger. His mouth closes into a frown but not before scoffing at you. The scorned expression on his face shuts you right up for a second but you try and carry on.

This time, before you can speak, he slams the door shut in your face with an impact so loud it booms through your whole being enough to raise all the hair on your skin, leaving you standing there in his floor’s corridor appalled and deeply belittled.

Your startled brain is more confused than ever. As you decide to slowly process what happened and not even ten seconds after he harshly shuts his door, it swings open again, revealing the same man who not-so-gently shut it, with a hand still on the knob and the other holding something blue.

His arm outstretched towards you and you were faced with a nozzle of a familiar spray bottle. With a straight face, he sprays the fucking liquid right on your face. You immediately shut your eyes and mouth, leaning your face away from the spray. Although it’s far enough to not cover your face if you hadn’t moved, you still cringe when you feel the tiny droplets on your skin.

You lift one eye open, scared that he’s about to spray again. He puts the bottle down to his side, looking satisfied with his work. When you open both eyes, he shuts the door again, leaving you in the corridor with heightened emotions from the first time he did it paired with an itching aggravation. 

Was that a fucking Windex? 

Hold on. Windex? 

The door swings open again and he fully reveals himself without a hand on the knob like the two times before. This time he’s holding an orange cardboard box labeled Pure Baking Soda and reaches into it with his other hand. 

You shut your eyes close immediately, realizing what was happening when you remembered his words to you years ago. 

“I’d spray you with some fucking Windex, throw baking soda on your face, and kick you out.” 

The baking soda hits your face, making your nose involuntarily scrunch up because of the fistful of powder he threw at you. When you guess that he’s satisfied after successfully throwing you the promised baking soda, you blink your eyes open, finding him still standing there with a straight face. 

“Are you done?” you asked with a deadpan face, covered with baking soda.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

[tsunael]

part. I -> II

“It’s beautiful here.”  She commented long after the flock of long-tailed tits she entertained had deemed his sudden presence unworthy, and fluttered off home. 

She spoke of the ripe peach of a Sharlayan sunset blazing before them. The Dawn Father being laid to rest, he recalled her once saying, in which she described a tale where He died every day just to let the moon breathe, or some such other romantic notions relating to Auri duality.

He replied, “Agreed.” Although the horizon was much too far when everything and more stood right in front of him. The dropping temperature was not what brought him to her side, for lately he found an uncomfortable need to be close, positively overwhelming in its insistence.

Tsuna turned away from the burning skyline in sensing that his attention had ever been elsewhere. To his surprise, she did not shy away from his sudden proximity. There was a certain delight that a tryst could bring, he knew all too well, and he could feel her basking in the moment in her own reserved way– soaking in the privacy afforded only to them. 

She leaned on the parapet. "I'm setting off to Thavnair on the morrow. I… wanted you to know.” Tsuna finally spoke, and he wished she hadn’t. 

He frowned at the notion. Her wounds were finally healed, yes, but her orders were still to avoid strenuous exertion. Her aether still remained thin-- much like the rest of her in the past few moons.

“So soon?" He bartered. "You’ve only just been given leave.”

“I cannot stay here any longer while my father is out there,” she sighed deeply, tired. “I need to find him. I need to know he’s alive– that he’s not suffering alone.”

Her father, the proud man he had the displeasure of meeting some time after their initial arrival on Hannish soil would have been truly terrifying in his youth for how their first meeting had been. He was withered now, and moreover wounded during the deluge of Blasphemies that descended upon Thavnair. His wounds could have been mortal before they were separated, although Thancred very much doubted a man so stubborn would succumb to something so base without a fight.

Naturally, he kept those acrid thoughts to himself.

Though her tone certainly had changed, for once she would have cursed her father’s name and all he held dear, and now she would risk life and limb to find him again– having no real blood ties of his own, Thancred almost understood it. Almost.

He reached out to gently tug at her arm, and she twisted to better look at him. “I would go with you.”

Her gaze fell beneath her lashes in challenge, though her barb was dull. “Do you not think I can handle it?”

His brow raised, bemused. “Fresh from your sickbed? Not at all.”

“Gods… Please, Thancred.” Tsuna made an exasperated sound. “I won’t suffer you travelling so far for my personal matters. It will be much easier if I go alone.”

He chuffed, incredulous. 

He had gone to the bloody moon for her, to the very ends of the universe and back– attending to her during what would be a quick jaunt to Illsabard paled in comparison, he reasoned. He had made enough trips to and fro that even the aether sickness had dwindled to that of a mild headache. There was nothing stopping him, save for her pride.

“It was my hope that when I said that I would follow you anywhere... that you would believe me.”

He watched in real time as she weighed his word’s worth. The tension slowly but surely released from her shoulders, which eventually led to her concession. He could not help but lose himself when she looked at him so: a gentle smile that bloomed until her eyes creased, twinkling in gratitude. 

"You are kind," she said with an edge of defeat. She drew closer, whispering for his ears only. "Much too kind."

She drew his wry smile. "And it will be the end of me someday, I am sure."

He played the role of lover well.

So well that the lines did so often blur, just as they did when he eased fully into her space, openly caging her against the parapet in hopes of capturing some manner of kiss. It was their worst kept secret: something he knew he must cull before it grew out of both their hands, but she reached up to splay fingers on his chest, and he felt himself pull on the leash of his own longing. He moved forward to meet her, aided by her tiptoes.

“Someone might see,” she chided softly against his cheek, yet she lingered. 

He hummed in consideration, ultimately finding the notion impossible. They hid it well– in plain sight one night say– though ‘love’ did well in dulling all sense and reason whilst sharpening others. He cared not to check his corners in his eagerness to chase the electric feel of her. She craned to meet him, her breath hitching in anticipation as their lips brushed, noses touching.

“Tsuna dear, I wondered where you had wandered off to after supper." A woman’s voice sounded that did not belong to one of theirs, and he felt the rare prickle of embarrassment trail up the back of his neck.

"... It seems I had no reason to worry.” Ameliance stood before them, looking completely and utterly amused at their expense.

In hindsight, considering he had picked her balcony as the stage for his ignominy it was to be expected. Still, he had thought himself grown out of such foolishness.

Tsuna immediately pushed herself into his chest, gasping in terror, then fell to pudding in his arms once terror gave way to the hot knife of shame. 

“Gods– I’m… We weren’t– Lady Ameliance, I–”

Ameliance sidestepped Tsuna’s blathering with grace. “Never did I imagine such an adorable pair of lovebirds would deem it fit to roost.” She looked beside herself with girlish amusement. 

Thancred huffed a self-deprecating laugh in extricating himself from the fretful girl. “We were caught up in a bit of bird watching ourselves,” he began, knowing he could not fully bluff his way to innocence. “Might I say, my lady, that you are looking positively radiant this evening–”

Tsuna shot him a glowering look of disgust for his act, though it was simply comical when her face was as red as the horizon. The humiliation, however, was too much for her to bear. With a respectful bow, Tsuna stole from the balcony, falling into a staggered run to where only the Gods knew. Thancred stepped forward, thinking to give chase, but Ameliance kept him rooted by way of her hand.

“Oh dear,” she tutted. “I suppose that’s my fault.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. No, the fault lies with me, my lady.”

It seemed, however, his words once again were chosen poorly. Ameliance made a sound of distaste “My dear boy. After all these years, how many times must I ask you to simply call me by my name?”

It was his turn to feel the patronized fool. He felt himself founder, jaw wagging in vain until he could think of a clever response. No matter how many times she called him family, he could not help but shy from it. He cleared his throat, and reeled himself back in…

“Aye. Of course. Ameliance,” he opened his arms in concession, though his shoulders sagged for it.

She finally burst into laughter, entirely of his chagrin. “That's better, much better! Though you still think you can simply sweet talk your way out of everything, I see.”

“Lost my touch, you think?” 

“To lose insinuates that you had it from the beginning.”

He winced. Touché. “Then I will speak plain: my sore lapse in judgement notwithstanding, I ask only for your confidence.”

“A secret, is it?” she asked, tapping the corner of her mouth in thought. Her expression suddenly wizened, and he knew it to be the precursor to something he did not wish to hear. Finally, she cocked her head. “I see. You’ve fallen for her.” 

His eyes widened at her assumption. “No. Gods no,” he forced a laugh. “Nothing of the sort.” His unsteady gaze fell instead to the darkening skyline. It was an infatuation-- just one of many.

He could feel her silent judgement, though he did not rise to refute it. Her expression changed slowly into one of concern. “I suppose I could give you my word… however– and you must excuse me for my eavesdropping– but what was all that nonsense about leaving?”

Thancred opened his mouth to apprise her, though he wished he were not the one to parrot it. Tsuna had run off before she could explain, and he only hoped she did not pack up and leave for the Aetheryte without him whilst he was trapped between the proverbial rock and hard place.

“Twelve preserve. You know she is not fully well.” He was gladdened when she reached the self-same conclusion. "See to it that you tend to her."

“I will. If she were to have me... And even if she won't." He was not above tailing her from the shadows if it meant her safe return.

Ameliance hummed, making a curious sound of appraisal whilst also looking fit to spill all sorts of secrets from his past and maybe even some of her own– and he sorely hoped it was the latter.

“You know, Thancred, dear. I believe that’s called love.”