#and I can't help but feeling horribly shattered

[earanie]

first post high-fever clear thought: im still so fucking in love and still so fucking heartbroken about it

[morningmask27]

I do sometimes find it really annoying that most of the things I do right now are At Least tangentially related to a trauma I lived through.

I am living in a university dorm right now, it's a very typical thing to do, but most people return to their family home during the weekends and only really stay in the dorms because they have classes in the week and having to go from their home to the classes, especially the 9 am classes, can be heavy if they live somewhat further away. I stay in my dorm the entire week. For Reasons I don't want to go back to my old home for longer than half a day to drop my laundry and leave with clean clothes, some food and a chat with my mother. I wouldn't feel good doing so anymore, but mentioning that is weird because most people (except internationals because going to a full on other country just for the weekend, every weekend, would be a bit dumb) return to their home (My dorm feels more like home to me right now than my old house did btw).

When I say I stay in my dorm people are somewhat confused, as it on its own already implies that something must not be that good at the familial home for me to not go there for the weekends. By the simple fact I don't go back it's already implied there is something wrong, and it's true, there Is something wrong, but I can't just start explaining the whole thing, it's not really appropriate for most conversations, and I simply don't want to open up about this part of my traumas. So I just have to quickly and very blatantly brush off that fact and the unpleasant implications to continue the conversation without making it awkward and it's so annoying.

Most of my weird trauma responses at least have the added thing that if I don't verbalize them nobody will really notice. I am good at hiding them, I kinda had to, but this dorm situation is such a blatant sign of something Weird (and not the good kind) that I cannot hide since my actions on their own imply a situation already.

I am somewhat good at dealing with all of these issues, brushing off The Problems is a typical part of normal conversations, but it does get frustrating sometimes when I get severely affected by something traumatic, and it's The Only reason that my problem happened, but I cannot talk about it in casual conversations because of how heavy and intense it is. I have to vaguely mention The Horrors (They Are Complex) and move on before I make my conversation partner uncomfortable. It happened when I had to miss a class because of a severe relapse in my mental health, it happens every time I mention I stay in my dorm the weekends, it happens whenever I get too jittery and weird because of stress (I don't even always know Why I am stressed) and I just cannot explain anything about the cause because it's too heavy for most people to hear. (I do understand that fact, it makes sense you're not going to tell classmates casually about the horrific stuff you went through in your personal life, but it fucking gets annoying when it is fully related to a situation and I have to Shut The Fuck Up anyway.)

It's just frustrating to me that I have to deal with all these Weird Things because of trauma, and everyone sees them, but I cannot explain where they come from truthfully because of how much they are. It's in this weird middle state where people See I am weird hurt, but they don't Know why. I do things differently for reasons they can assume are unpleasant, but I cannot ever truly explain everything to them.

[merthosus]

The Deli

Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside. Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside.

Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

"You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you"

I stumble out of the train, almost tripping over the edge. This can't be, he would never. I hate him, I never thought that I could do this but I do. My heart was shattered, it felt like it was being torn out of my torso and ripped in thousand parts. How could he do this to me? How could he do this to Diego? I have no idea where I am, or rather when I am. But I didn't care I just walked along the train station. My heels clicked with every step they took. The sound echoed with every thud on the white tiles.

I caught them. Five was missing and in my head there where millions of horrible ideas what could be happened to him. I can't believe I worried. We gone through so much shit and he shattered everything just like it was nothing. I traveled so far with these damn trains, no idea how I could possible come home again, just to caught them kissing each other. These assholes! Slowly the sadness turned into anger and every step I take gets louder.

In the distance I see red light reflecting on the floor. I swear to god if this is a trainstation-stripclub I trow myself on the rails. Seeing so much today what I couldn't believe makes me getting the wildest ideas, expecting anything but normal. I step closer and what I see is a Diner. Without hesitation I enter. I would kill for a chocolate croissant and a nice cup of coffee right now. But as soon as I entered everything went silent. Even a fly could be heard.

As shocked as they were as shocked I was. "This can't be", I mumble to myself. Every pair of eyes, which stared me down, were his. The Five which was now coming out of the back, let his tablet fall onto the ground. The sudden loud noise made the other ones fall out of their trance. "Y/n?", a few said, but others were just looking. "She's mine!", one of the Five's screams. Others were already talking him down. Another was punching a different Five and two got them apart. Without hesitation one five stood up and walked towards me. "I am sorry it's been a long time since they seen you", he says confusing me even more. "i...I what the hell is going on?", I ask, not believing what I saw standing infont of me.

"You just kissed Lila and now you are talking with me as nothing has happened? And what is this here? A stupid joke?", I ask him outraged. "Oh no darling I am not the five you know. I am coming out of a different timeline, but wouldn't you like to sit as I explain?", he asks politely. Like it was the most normal thing I go to sit with him at one of the diner tables, ignoring the fact that at least twenty versions of my boyfriend were looking down at me. As we sit down the Five on the counter rushed to our table.

"The black coffee, cappuccino and the chocolate croissant will be on your table soon", he stumbles, while looking at me. "How...?", I begin to ask but he was faster gone than I could blink. I feel more comfortable now as I saw how the attention was no longer drawn to me. "Explain, now", I demand as I was staring the Five before me down. "Feisty, as I remembered you", he says. I can't help myself but smile a little bit. "Why are there so many of you? And why was the one so obsessed", I ask. He crocked his neck. "We are all different Fives, out of different timelines. Most of them lost their Y/n, that's why things got out of hand", he explained. "So your five cheated on you? That's new, none of us did that, guess a new timeline has formed. Why would he do that...?", he asks himself.

I was shocked, overdosed with unimaginable information. "So what happened to your Y/n?", I ask him, just releasing I went to far. "She died in a fight, Hazel shot her", he says. "Five over there, who said you were his. She killed herself", he explains some more. I can't believe what he was just saying. "I would never do such a thing", I say. "No. Yourself in this timeline wouldn't but the on in his did. It's the same with us, we are all the same but different at the same time. I would never cheat on you and that's the point", he looks down on the floor. "I will find him don‘t worry, he will pay for what he did", he says while my eyes get big. "No... no he's still my Five I...", I try to bring the words out of me.

"Darling...", he leans over the table looking me staring into the eyes. "You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you. Every single one of us is better as this little small cocked asshole", he says. I get nervous and have trouble looking him into the eyes. "He doesn't have a small...", I try to say. "I know I know...", he interrupts me.

Let me know what you think in the comments!

[kihyunsflavor]

Cold shoulder

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)

word count: 4.6k

Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3

A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.

"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.

You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.

You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.

For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."

His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.

"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.

His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“

Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?

„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.

It kills you.

The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.

"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."

With that, you're gone.

Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.

You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.

The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.

You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.

With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.

The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.

You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.

Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.

The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.

But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.

It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.

And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.

He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.

The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.

As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.

"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.

Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.

Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again

Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.

Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.

Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.

Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.

Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.

Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.

Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.

If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.

Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.

The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways

When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.

You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.

With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.

An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.

As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.

In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.

As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.

Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.

Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.

His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.

As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.

You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.

In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.

"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.

"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"

Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.

Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.

It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.

After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.

Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.

But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.

With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.

Dear sister,

I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.

With all my love,

Your sister

You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.

The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.

The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.

A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.

With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.

As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.

A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.

"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in the witch's room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.

"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.

Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."

His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."

Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.

"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.

Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.

When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.

A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.

He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.

Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.

At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.

"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.

But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.

It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."

Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.

"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.

"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.

"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.

Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.

"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.

You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.

On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.

This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Proud VII

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your biological parents want a meeting

*TW: discussions of past child abuse*

Pernille can still remember the pictures from the police.

Nestled in with other pictures of your childhood, you were just a baby. A baby sitting on a big hospital bed in just her nappy and mottle of bruises around her skin, wrapped around you like a vine.

It was sickening and Pernille can remember dropping your foster file in shock.

She hadn't been able to equate the twelve year old moving into her house with the baby that had been so horribly abused.

According to the police report, they'd been called after a disturbance in the house. Bottles shattering. People shouting. A sound violation more than anything else.

But no one had answered the door when the police knocked.

They had been planning to leave if it wasn't for the wailing of the baby, the wailing of you.

They'd forced their way in after that, finding you laying on the floor, covered in your own sick and with way too high a fever for a baby.

What was standard child neglect turned into a child abuse charge at the hospital when your dirty onesie had been taken off to reveal all the bruises down your skin and the dilation of your pupils showing the concussion you'd received.

Rights were terminated by a judge and into the system you went.

The picture is etched into Pernille's mind though, something that appears to her any time you get injured, any time you go down in a match.

The picture appears to her now as she sits in a mediation meeting with your biological parents.

These are the people that did that to you.

The people that had bruised you and caused you a concussion.

The people that had their rights terminated because of their treatment of you.

The same people that sit in front of Pernille and Magda in ill-fitting clothes and unkempt hair. They're smiling a bit too widely, mismatched on their sagging faces.

"So," The lawyer that they've clearly paid an extortionate amount for says," We're here to discuss Miss Y/n L/n-"

"Harder," Magda says at Pernille's side," That's her name. Y/n Harder."

The lawyer flashes her a saccharine smile. "Of course. We're here to discuss visitation with my clients."

"Their rights were terminated." The same lawyer that helped finalise your adoption is the same one in the meeting with Magda and Pernille now. "Years ago. They have no leg to stand on. Visitation isn't something they can have."

"I have reason to believe that the judge that terminated their rights made a hasty decision," The slimy lawyer says back," My clients have put their lives back together and are ready to see their daughter again."

"I can't help but think this timing is a bit coincidental," Their lawyer returns," My client's child has had a breakout year as a footballer, joining the senior Sweden team so her face has been plastered on the tv everywhere. A bit coincidental that this is the time that your clients decide to reach out."

"Well, she was taken out of the country."

"When she was sixteen," Magda puts in bluntly," They had sixteen years before that. We live in Germany now."

"We were looking for her!" Your biological mother says," It's all just one big conspiracy against us!"

This is the woman who left you in a pile of your own sick, crying and sobbing and covered in bruises, suffering from a concussion that could have killed you.

Pernille feels sick, rage bubbling in her stomach.

"Oh, grow up! You're not nearly important enough to have a conspiracy around you!" She slams her hands onto the table. "You are nothing to her! She doesn't even know your names!"

Magda pulls at Pernille's hand, weakly at first and then a little harder when it doesn't look like Pernille wants to sit down again.

"Let me put it plainly," Pernille and Magda's lawyer says," My clients and their daughter have a packed schedule in Germany playing football for club and then football internationally. Their daughter is sixteen years old and is capable of making decisions by herself. Your clients have no parental rights and will not be getting them back."

"How dare-"

"I believe this meeting is finished."

You weren't in the dark about this meeting. You'd been told the moment the Magda and Pernille were sent the letter about it.

You just hadn't wanted to attend, sitting in the nearby café with your schoolwork spread out in front of you.

You expected it to take longer than it did so you'd brought a lot of your science homework.

You check your watch as Pernille and Magda slump down into the seats in front of you.

"Half an hour. I thought it would take at least an hour."

"Pernille went off on them. It was kind of hot."

You wrinkle your nose. "Gross."

Pernille huffs in her seat, arms crossed. "The gall of them! The audacity! You're not going anywhere near them, do you understand me? They don't even deserve to breathe the same air as you!"

A grin quirks your lips upward. "It's nice you hold me in such high regard."

"You're my daughter. They're nothing."

"I'm not all that much."

"You are to me."

You hold her gaze for a moment.

There's something immovable in her eyes, staring at you like she's daring you to challenge her.

You drop your eyes with a smile.

"Do either of you know anything about nuclear fission? I'm drawing a blank."

[anton-luvr]

Hi, how have you been? I love your blog and the way you write!💖 I have a request to make, if you're comfortable with that... How would Riize react when you think they are cheating on you, but in reality it's all a misunderstanding, and they're just too busy. (English is not my first language so I'm sorry if this is a little confusing!)

# WHEN YOU THINK THEY'RE CHEATING ON YOU ; 7riize.

⚝ bf!riize x gn!reader | angst | bf au ⚝ note ; im kinda busy, but im doing good!! thank you so much ily :( and don't worry abt it i understood your req perfectly!! thank u for requesting, i hope u like it <3

# SHOTARO. - for the first time ever, shotaro doesn't smile. he can only sit in silent shock while he processes your words, and the first thing he can think of to do is to hug you. holds you tight as he whispers apologies over and over again, feeling terrible that he made you think that he was cheating on you. reassures you gently that he would never, and promises that once he gets a rest day, he'll spend all his free time with you.

# EUNSEOK. - eunseok isn't one who usually shows his emotions, but pain and guilt is so evident on his face after hearing what you said. he had no idea that you were feeling this way from how busy he's been these days, and he feels awful about it. tells you that he's sorry while wiping your tears away, and he swears to himself to start treating you with more love and care from that day onwards, starting from right now.

# SUNGCHAN. - he hates himself for making you think that he was cheating on you. calls up his boss immediately with the fakest cough and sneezes, lying without batting an eye about how he was 'terribly sick' and needed 'at least two days off' to 'recover'. he spends those two days with you, never once leaving your side as he takes you out to all your favorite places and showers you with love and compliments.

# WONBIN. - even though he immediately reassures you that he's not cheating on you and spends the night with you in his arms, he still feels so bad. life still goes on as usual for the both of you the next day, him busy at work while you were busy with yours. but just to make it up to you, wonbin has a bouquet sent right up into your office - a bouquet of a hundred and one roses, reminding you that you're his one and only lover.

# SEUNGHAN. - he understands how you feel and why'd you think that way, so other than seunghan promising that he'll try to spend more time with you, he also lets you voice out your worries in detail. he listens with full attention, nodding when you mention how you didn't like one of his female coworkers because she seemed so close with your boyfriend. and right after the words have left your lips, seunghan slips out his phone and blocks her on everything, right in front of you. he wants you to rest assured knowing that he couldn't care less for anyone else in this world other than you.

# SOHEE. - sohee has not and would never cheat on you. he loves you too much for that. he tells you just that as he gently kisses away your tears, holding you tightly in his arms for the rest of the night. he feels horrible for making you feel insecure in your relationship, so he makes sure to shower you in extra affection for the next few days. breakfasts in bed, long kisses before he leaves for work, and constant updates with photos about his day to you.

# ANTON. - his heart literally shatters into pieces. he can't help but cry too, because how could he make the love of his life feel this way? he apologizes to you through sniffles and sobs, promising you that he'd never cheat on you. tries his best to finish up his work faster the next day so he can come straight home to you and into your arms.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

taglist : @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart @lycheecheeseyogurt

[titaniumions]

in my mind kakania would have little to no problem accepting the fact that she is into women. however the thought of her being into isolde is something that would absolutely vex her, i think. while they did start off as casual acquaintances and friends, isolde is still her patient, and to some level kakania winds up being responsible for isolde's wellbeing. with that in mind, kakania can hardly fathom the thought of burdening isolde with her feelings, which she feels absolutely selfish for even indulging in. even if those feelings were to be returned, it still wouldn't put kakania's mind at rest. it still wouldn't be enough to get kakania to convince herself that she's fine with feeling this way. ultimately it's not necessarily internalized homophobia nor societal pressure that troubles her, but rather her own ethical and psychological concerns

it'd be even worse for her if those feelings didn't exactly ... go away even after everything that happened in chapter 6. she'd be overwhelmed with guilt, and think to herself that the best course of action would be to distance herself from isolde, but the most painful part is that even after seeing isolde at her worst, she still can't help but want to love isolde. even after kakania herself had presumably tainted isolde's perception of her. so what if that's what was necessary at the moment. after leaving isolde broken and shattered, how could kakania even dare to think she deserves to love isolde? if it once felt horribly wrong for kakania to be in love with her, everything that has transpired between them only served to make it worse!

[spencersssockss]

Shaving

Summery: Spencer is exhausted after his first day back at work after being released from prison. You help him shave and comfort him.

Warnings: razor (being used to shave), post-prison Reid, nightmares, mention of bruises and cuts, fluff…

Word count: 700

Spencer was a mess when he came home from jail. Covered in cuts and bruises and heavy bags under his eyes. He was struggling, he was overjoyed to see you but so many things had changed about him.

Being in prison stripped him of his self, he couldn't function the way he could before. He had nightmares, he was paranoid, and he was overprotective of everything.

You understood him though, you knew it would take time, and you knew even with an eternity he wouldn't be the same. You just wanted him to be at peace again.

He was exhausted after his first day back at work, physically and mentally. He still had to shave as he still hadn't since he got home, but all he could do was sit in the corner of the bed in silence his head in his hands.

“I'm worried about you,” you say putting your book down and sitting beside him.

“I know,” he sighed placing his head on your shoulder.

“I know things are hard, but I can't help if you don't let me in,” you say grabbing his hand and holding it gently.

“I don't want you to know about the horrible things that happened, you wouldn't see me the same,” he mumbled turning his head from you.

Grabbing his chin and making him look into your eyes you say, “Nothing could change the way I feel about you, I love you, Spence, I just want you to be happy again.” His eyes threaten to spill tears making you hug him tightly.

“Here, I'll help you shave, just relax,” you say standing up from the bed taking his hand in yours, and walking to the bathroom.

“You don't have to,” Spencer frowned.

“I want to, I see you struggling to keep your eyes open, just let me,” you reply pushing some of his messy hair behind his ear.

“Okay,” he finally obliged sitting on the edge of the bathtub. You open a drawer, grab his razor and shaving cream, and sit in front of him on your knees.

“Ready?” you ask smiling at him.

“Yup,” he replied finally cracking a smile filling your heart with happiness. You squirted some of the shaving cream onto your hands and spread it across his face, grabbing the razor to begin.

The razor slid across his skin gently removing all his facial hairs from beneath it. “Am I doing okay?” you ask putting your hand on his thigh for balance.

“Yeah, it's perfect,” he smiled once again looking down at you. You finished shaving and pecked his lips gently, standing up rising out the razor, and putting it back in the drawer along with the shaving cream.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and turned off the bathroom light as the two of you walked back to the room to change and go to sleep.

You changed into your pajamas and so did he, the two of you climbing under the covers together as Spencer held you close in his arms.

“Do you wanna know the real reason I've been having trouble sleeping?” he asked making you turn around to look him in the eyes.

“If you’re ready to tell me,” you say smiling softly as he grabbed your hand.

“I was scared you were going to leave, you know?” “cause I've been so distant and weird lately, when I'm with you I feel safer than I have in a while,” he said a stray tear falling down his cheek. “I didn't want you to leave,” he repeated letting more tears fall.

Your arms wrapped around him as you held him close, he cried softly into your shoulder making your heart shatter.

“Spencer, I'm always going to be here for you, I wouldn't ever leave you,” you answered rubbing his back soothingly.

“Promise?” he asked looking up at you with his tear-stained cheeks.

“Promise,” you answered, wrapping your arms back around him as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“I love you,” he spoke gently.

“I love you too,” you cooed holding him close as he fell asleep.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 95

Inspired by this not geraskier (merthur) fic In a world where your soulmate's greatest current fear is written on your arm, Geralt's arm fluctuates between saying "Dying alone" and "Being Forgotten", and though they do hurt him to see this is what his soulmate fears above all else, he's happy. Because just a few years ago, his arm would swap between "Mother" and "Father". Geralt is fine with it all. Until one day the words on his arm say his name. "Geralt of Rivia" Geralt deals with this as calmly and reasonably as anyone would. He has a fullblown breakdown in the middle of the woods and cries into his horse's side and digs a really big hole before just filling it back up because the digging a hole was for the therapeutic feeling and not for anything of substance. So later when he killed a horrible smelling corpse monster and had to dig a SECOND hole to bury the thing when he had a big already dug hole earlier if he just hadn't filled it fucking in-! He's having a tough week, is all. But thankfully, soon enough, he'll be meeting back up with Jaskier! The one person who's never been afraid of him, and Geralt is only just starting to feel like maybe Jaskier never will. Jaskier is terrified of Geralt. Not of him! Not of him, nonono.. Of Geralt.. finding out. If Geralt finds out Jaskier is falling in love with him, Geralt will surely throw him aside. I mean, it took him forever to say they were friends, if Jaskier tells Geralt he's in love with him, Geralt would probably do something ridiculous like... Scream at him on a mountain or something. Alright, sure, that sounds nothing like Geralt, but Jaskier's spiraling doesn't really care for what makes "sense" at the moment. He's fine. When he meets up with Geralt in a week, he'll just hide his feelings as per usual. He'll be fine.

♡!Optional addons!♡ • Jaskier has discovered that Geralt is his soulmate, because he's mended the wounds on Geralt's arm that clearly says "Geralt dying" or "Geralt bleeding out", or "Manticore Venom". Frankly, he's impressed at Geralt's lack of observational skills. Geralt's arm tends to have the name of whatever monster he's currently fighting on his arm.. But perhaps it's hard to notice that when you're currently engaged in life-or-death battle with aforementioned monster. • Jaskier isn't human. When Jaskier sees "Jaskier" on his arm one day, he feels as if his heart has shattered. Geralt must've found out what he is, and now he hates him. Jaskier can't help himself, when he next sees Geralt, he asks if Geralt would kill him, for he won't be able to keep sane by just separating. Geralt, whose biggest fear is Jaskier being hurt, being sad, dying because of him, dying of old age, loving him, not loving him, etc etc etc, is suddenly very confused over what the fuck they are talking about • Geralt knows Jaskier is his soulmate, and upon seeing Jaskier is terrified of him, Geralt begins acting and speaking completely different in order to "Fix it". Jaskier is confused when Geralt is suddenly hiding his fangs, and never touching his swords near him, and begins speaking exclusively in a soft slightly-higher voice, as if he's a scared animal.

[thoughtsofedin]

Unravel Me

ᴅɪᴇɢᴏ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ/ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡʜʏ, ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ꜱᴏ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ?

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: Angst, Smut, Open Ending, Emotional manipulation.

Minors do not interact.

There's a cut on Diego's lip when he sits down next to you and orders a drink. He's seething, anger radiating off of him in waves that you can physically feel. The bartender ignores him, paying more attention to the older blonde woman to your left and you can tell that it irritates him more. For a second, the world around you shifts and changes and you can see Diego reach over the bar and grab the bartender by the collar of his shirt, slamming his head into the wood.

"Don't," you say with a warning, blinking the future away and sliding your drink over to him. "It doesn't end well." you warn him, the sight of Diego with a bullet wound in his shoulder already fading away as he takes your drink- a sour cherry gin- and finishes it in one go.

"You gotta stop doing that shit, Eight." he sounds annoyed, the alcohol momentarily roughening his voice.

"I don't do it on purpose." you tell him for the millionth time. And its true. You've never really spent your time looking for the future, it just came to you whenever it wanted.

"Whatever."

You scoff at his attitude, growing annoyed that he was trying to take his anger out on you. "You and Lila fight again? Is that why you're here, pouting?"

"I'm not fucking pouting!" he hisses, and you shift in your seat, the glass he accidentally hit missing you as it tumbles to the ground and shatters by your feet, watered down vodka wetting your shoes.

"What did you do this time?" you ask, ignoring his outburst. "I thought things were getting better."

"I," he starts, his voice guttural "Didn't fucking do anything."

"Then why are you so mad?"

He takes a second to answer, running his hand through his hair and tugging at the short strands. He looked miserable. Like someone had stolen his favorite toy or something. "Diego...?" you press, annoyance shifting into worry.

"Stanley's not my kid." There's a pain to his voice that makes it sound as if he was trying to speak underwater or if he was holding back the need to cry. "Lila lied."

"Shit," you say, turning to look at him. "Diego, I'm so sorry." gently you reach for his hand, wrapping your fingers around his knuckles and giving them a squeeze. It might have taken him a minute to settle into his role as a father, but he had done so. Happily. With an excitement you had never seen in him before.

Lila was horrible for lying to him. For manipulating him like this. "Why the hell did she do that?" you ask, squeezing his hand once again.

Diego pulls his hand away from yours, once more tugging on his hair. "She's fucking crazy? I don't fucking know."

The man behind the bar finally slides his drinks towards him and Diego wastes no time in throwing them back, ordering more. You do the same, knowing that right now wasn't the time to tell him that maybe he shouldn't drink his problems away.

"Do you want me to go talk to her?" you ask and he scoffs.

"And say what?' he reaches across you, grabbing your drink as soon as its placed in front of you and tosses the straw aside. "I got it. I don't need your help."

As he brings the glass to his lips the world becomes a haze, your vision blurring and shifting until you see Diego passed out on the staircase. There's a bottle of tequila broken on the stairs, glass embedded in his hand. Lila finds him, and she's screaming at him. You can't really focus on what she's saying, the sound muffled. Diego startles awake, and he accidentally kicks Lila.

You close your eyes as her head hits a stair, flinching at the noise.

"Stop drinking." you groan out, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. It doesn't do anything to stop the vision from playing over and over in your mind. "Please." you add, hearing his voice in your head. You might not like the woman but you didn't want her dead. Most of all, you didn't want Diego to deal with that kind of pain.

"Stop looking into my future." Even though he sounds angry, he sets the glass down, listening to you.

"Trust me, I want to. You think I like seeing these things?" you bite back, the vision already fading. "Yours just happens to be so strong." You snatch the glass and take a sip, swishing the bitter alcohol around your tongue before you swallow.

"What did you see?" he asks.

"You being a fucking idiot."

"Jesus!" he shouts, slamming his hands on the table. "Don't I have enough going on already? Cut me a fucking break."

With a sigh you apologize. "You're right. I'm sorry... Are you doing okay?"

Diego shrugs, looking down at the glass. There's a moment of silence where you wonder if perhaps you should leave him alone and stop trying to look for answers when he clearly didn't want to talk about any of this, but he sighs, straightening up before taking your drink from your hand and nursing it in his own. His fingers had brushed against your knuckles, his skin rough, calloused and warm. He looks at the Cherry Sour, swirling it in the cup almost as if he's contemplating whether or not to heed your cryptic warning.

"No." he mumbles before bringing it to his lips.

That future with Lila dead on the stairs doesn't reappear so you don't snatch it back. He needed the drink more than you right now, anyways. "No?" you press for more.

"No. I'm not okay. I-I," he swallows his stutter, clenching his jaw before exhaling loudly. "Part of me wanted this to happen, you know? I can't be a fucking dad, just look at me." He motions to himself with his hand. "I'm not exactly cut out for it."

"That's not true." you say quietly. "I think you're a great dad."

Diego scoffs, sipping at the drink. "No I'm not."

You reach for his free hand, taking it in yours and making him look at you. "Lila might have lied about Stan, but Diego, you stepped up. You treated that kid like he was your own flesh and blood. Everyone else saw it. You were a good father and when we solve this whole Kugelblitz disaster you're going to have another chance to show that to yourself." You squeeze his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles. "You don't have to be so scared that you're going to turn out like dad. He didn't care about us... not like you cared about Stan."

You smile at Diego, once again squeezing his hand.

He looked like he was seconds away from crying, but he finishes the drink, blinking away all emotional distress from his face. "Thanks..." he says so quietly that you almost miss it. "I didn't think I needed to hear that."

You shrug, finally letting go of him. "You don't have to thank me."

Besides you, Diego sets the empty glass down and once again runs his hand through his hair. "I," he pauses, meeting your eyes. "I was so happy- having a kid, being with Lila... It was like all this time I was missing something I didn't know I wanted so badly. But she ripped it away from me and I don't know if I'm angry or relieved or-." he groans, shaking his head. "I think I probably would have done something stupid if you hadn't been here."

You smile at him, trying to lighten the mood "You still have time. Don't let me stop you from achieving all that you can."

His laugh is light as he shakes his head. "I think I'm good for now but thanks for the vote of confidence."

You try not to focus on the warmth that spreads through you at the sound of his laugh, your smile growing a bit. "Are you doing better?"

He lifts his shoulders, dropping them dramatically. "I'll be fine." He seems to have caught you looking at the glass in front of him that he played with, slowly running his index finger across the rim. Stopping and pulling his hand away, he makes a noise that has you looking back at his face. "You don't gotta worry. I'm not drinking anymore."

"You sure?"

"Look, whatever you saw definitely scared the shit out of you. I'll listen to you this time." As if to prove a point, he waved over the bartender and asked to close out your tab. "Anyways, I don't think alcohol is going to do anything to help."

You watch as he pulls out his wallet and nod. "Thanks, Diego."

"Whatever. It's not that expensive."

You roll your eyes, deciding not to tell him that you were thanking him for listening and preventing a horrible future from becoming a reality. "If you're all finished with me, I'm going to go find Five then. See what new idea he's come up with."

As you begin to stand up, you feel Diego's hand close around your wrist, holding you still. "Wait," he says as you freeze and look at his face. His brows are knitted together, something in his brown eyes that you can't exactly read.

"Wait?" you repeat, hoping to get more out of him.

"I won't drink... but can you stay with me? Just a little longer?" Diego's voice is unnaturally gentle, sad. "We don't have to stay in the bar. I just..." He doesn't finish.

But you don't need him to, you could see the fear in his eyes. The loneliness. He doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts, with his emotions. You wondered if he knew that the hand that held you was trembling.

Five could wait, you decided, smiling lightly at Diego. "Want to go up to the roof?"

Diego hadn't meant to sound so pathetic when he asked you to stay with him. But he did, and it aggravated him even more. He should have been relieved when Lila had told him the truth. He didn't want a damn kid, he never had and swore that he never would. So why was it that he felt so empty? The bond that he swore had been there between Stanley and him gone, a fragment of his imagination.

He had trusted Lila, even though from the first time they had met she had done nothing but lie to him. Of course she would have lied about this, he should have been smart enough to know that this was another one of her stupid games.

He lets go of your hand, wishing that he had finished that drink before the bartender had taken it away. Sure it tasted like shit, all watered down from the ice, but it was the easiest way to stop thinking. But he promised you that he was done, he wasn't about to go back on that.

"Come on," you say, keeping him grounded here, in the real world, instead of in his thoughts were no matter how hard he tried to stop, things just kept circling back to Lila and Stanley.

Diego stands and follows you to the elevator, where you're both quiet. Part of him wants to tell you that he's changed his mind, that he wants to be alone. But that part is a liar. He doesn't want you to leave. To leave him alone. He doesn't want you to be another person that leaves him.

"You do that a lot, why?" you ask, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

"Do what?" he asks, confused.

"The whole-" you lift your hand and run it through your hair, pushing it away from your face. "Running your hand through your hair thing."

He hadn't realize that he did that so often that it was noticeable. "It's a bad habit." he does it again, this time to make sure that his hair wasn't a mess. He didn't want to look like shit just because he was feeling it. "I don't really know why I do it."

"It's not good to mess with your hair like that. You're going to end up bald."

For a second, he panics, wondering if perhaps you had another of your visions. "Is that like a sure thing? Did you see it in the future?" He didn't want to be bald. He had shaved his head for the police academy and it did not look good at all.

There's a single pause where you look at him like you were going to tell him something bad but then you laugh, shaking your head. "You should see your face!" you curl into yourself, and he frowns, relieved but annoyed. "I didn't see anything, I was just messing with you."

He scoffs, but you only laugh harder and he finds that he can't stay mad. Not when its so contagious and he finds his lips curling upwards a bit. "Funny." he says sarcastically, pushing himself from the wall the moment the elevator slows to a stop on the last floor.

"You're not mad, are you?" you ask from behind him following him as he walks to the emergency staircase and pushes the door open.

"No. Come on, before the alarm goes off." he grabs you by upper arm and pulls you into the stairway, following you and pulling the door close behind him. He finds himself stuck between the door and you, his fingers still wrapped around your bicep, your face near his.

Maybe it's the alcohol, or the anger that still refuses to leave him, but for a split second he sees Lila in your place and all the progress he has done disappears down the drain. He lets go of you, bringing his hands to his head and running them down the shaved sides.

"Diego?" You speak his name so softly that he chuckles humorlessly. He wasn't used to soft. To the gentleness that you were offering him. He knew biting words and screaming fights that went unresolved until it got too heavy to bear and instead of fixing the issue, he left. Or they left.

"Can I ask you for a favor, Eight?" He opens his eyes, finding yours looking at him with worry. The handle of the door was biting into his lower back painfully but he didn't have the strength to move. To care, honestly. "Can you check and see what the future is like?"

Does he give Lila another chance only for it to bite him in the ass? Does he have kids of his own? Is he kind to them? Do they like him? Or is he a spitting image of Reginald Hargreeves, treating his children like commodities instead of people?

Your eyes soften, and he doesn't like how sad you suddenly look, your brows pushed together as the corner of your mouth twitches. He knows what you're going to say. That you couldn't do that. That the future was too finicky for you to get straight answers.

"Nothing good comes from chasing the future, Diego. Trust me."

"Please." he presses, even though he knows that you're right. "At least tell me there's going to be a day when I don't hurt so badly anymore." his voice cracks at the end, and he has to look away from you to keep from crying, his eyes trailing the textured off white ceiling.

He feels you wrap your arms around him, and instinctually he wants to push you away, stiffening as you hold him. Diego wants to yell and shout and tell you to get the fuck off him, but you squeeze him, arms around his in an awkward embrace, and his anger shatters. His breath comes out shaky, his vision blurs and his arms lift and push yours out of the way so that he could hug you back.

His tears fall silently as you hold him, his face finding the hollow of your neck as he pulls you closer to him. He doesn't say a word, holding you tightly as he lets himself cry. You stroke his back, the same way Grace used to do for him and he breaks again, his inhale loud and broken against your skin.

"It's okay, Diego." you whisper so close to his ear. "You're okay."

You don't seem to care that he's trembling, that your skin is wet with his tears, that he's dug his nails into your shirt so hard that he's afraid that he's ripped the fabric and broken your skin. You just hold him, soothing his back.

Did you know this was going to happen? Had you seen it already? Is that why you knew what to do, what to say? He wants to ask you but he can't find the will to come down, let alone his voice. He pulls you closer, his hand finding your lower back.

"It's okay," you repeat, your hand sliding from between his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck.

The pain inside of him, the one that he had been trying to deny existed from the moment Lila had told him the truth grows and grows until its all that he can feel, his knees bucking underneath him.

For a moment, even with the threat of doom hanging over his head, he had been happy. He had a son, a woman who loved him, a family he could take care of and protect and show that he was just as deserving as anyone else. Only for it all to be taken away from him.

You don't say anything as his breathing begins to even out and he finds that he can't cry anymore. He's thankful for that, partially horrified at not only having broken down so intensely but in front of you, no less. If you opened your mouth and said something he was worried that in his shame he'd snap and bite at you like a feral dog.

He loosens his hold on you, shifting his head so that his forehead rests against your shoulder, the familiar ache of a headache forming behind his eyes. You're still rubbing soothing circles on his neck, one hand planted firmly on his back. He doesn't want to pull back. Doesn't want to see the inevitable pity he's bound to find in your eyes.

He's nothing short of pathetic right now. But maybe he's always been pathetic. Look at him, crying over a something as mediocre as a lie.

"Sorry," he says against the tissue of your shirt. "Just..." he wants to warn you about what would happen if you tell another soul but he doesn't have the strength. "Just give me a moment."

Your fingers are light as they run along the length of his neck, your head brushing against his as you nod. "Let's sit down." you suggest quietly and pull away from him. At first he doesn't want you to move, his arms holding you still until he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, willing himself to let you go. His arms slowly move from around you and fall limp at his sides as he straightens up,.

He lets you lead him towards the stairs, sitting beside you when you pat the space. He can't look at your face, worried that he'll find something there he wont like. Instead he keeps his eyes on his hands, his shoes, the concrete of the stairs.

"I'm sorry." he repeats into the silence that's spread between them. Now that he has a clear mind, he's suddenly repulsed by his actions. Clinging and crying on you like that was embarrassing to say the least.

When your hand finds his, your fingers intertwining with his own before you pull it towards your lap, he almost pulls away reflexively. But you hold on tight and he doesn't have the strength to fight. "How are you feeling?" you ask, ignoring his apology and he's thankful for that.

"Like I've been split in half." he says honestly, his eyes moving from the stair to your intertwined hands. It felt nice, having you hold him, the warmth of your skin seeping into his. "It's a shit feeling."

You squeeze his hand. "Yeah," you whisper. "I know."

For a moment, the silence returns and it's not heavy and choking for once. It's pleasant, welcomed after everything. Diego doesn't find himself slipping into his thoughts in it, instead he focuses on the barely there sound of your breathing. His own slowly beginning to match yours.

Sitting here next to you, he felt as if the world around him began to crumble and end, he wouldn't have felt a single thing but relief, glad that it was you he spent his last moment's with.

Diego turns and looks at you and maybe its due to all his emotions running wild inside of him, or the fact that for some reason the world always looked clearer after crying, but he feels like he's looking at you for the very first time. His eyes linger on the curve of your nose, the slight downward curl your lips took on when you thought about something. He trails the curve of your neck, your collar still damp with his tears. He could still feel the warmth you had radiated there. Could still smell the almost floral, clean smell that perfumed your skin, that had filled his lungs.

You had your eyes closed, head tilted against the metal railing but he knew that you weren't asleep. Were you here with him in this very moment? Or had you slipped into the future once more, living something that he hadn't yet? He squeezes your hand, pulling it towards him and you blink and open your eyes, turning to look at him with that hazy look that came from being in two places at once.

"What did you see?" he asks, voice low. He wondered if what he wanted to do and what you saw were the same thing, or had the future already changed for you? For him?

"I..." you trail off as he leans in, his fingers softly tracing the curve of your cheek until he's cupping your face. He shifts his body towards you, the space between you both closing. He glances down at your lips and he felt himself lick his own.

He watches as you close your eyes and lean into his touch and that's all it takes for him to break what little distance there is between his mouth and yours, kissing you.

At first, its soft and gentle and he plans on pulling away but you let out a small whimper, lips parting just the slightest and he groans and deepens it, fingers digging into your scalp.

His lips guide yours, the kiss harsh as he buries himself in the sensation, in the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips. He can taste the salt of his tears in the kiss and it mingles with the sweetness of your mouth, his tongue tracing the length of your lower lip before it slipped inside of your mouth.

Your response is immediate, your lips parting to welcome him, inviting him into the depths of your being. His heart races at the intimacy of the gesture, at the way you respond to him with such fervor. It's a heady sensation, the feeling of being wanted and needed so desperately.

His hand wanders down the curve of your neck, over your shoulder, down your arm. He wants to feel you, to sink into you and forget the world around him. He finds himself tugging at the hem of your shirt, swallowing your moan.

Reluctantly, he pulls back, opening his eyes to find you flushed and panting, your lips dark and swollen. "Come here," he says, his voice guttural as he pats his lap, his cock swollen underneath his hand. He wanted you on top of him as he explored every inch of your body.

"Diego," the sound of your voice, choking around his name has his cock lurching in his jeans. "I can't." you say and suddenly he's brought back down to reality, the fog that had clouded his mind beginning to clear.

Maybe he should be disgusted with his actions, throwing himself at you because in his mind he'd twisted his sadness into arousal. But instead of feeling any sort or remorse or need to apologize, frustration bubbled up in his throat until he said the only thing that he could. "Why?" What was stopping you?

The question seemed to catch you off guard and you frown and open your mouth but struggle to find the words so Diego decides to help, moving until he's kneeling between your legs, his lips once more on yours. This time, the kiss is a plea, sweet and slow and eager.

He wants you, his lips trailing down to your neck and back up to your jaw, hungry and desperate for an answer. "Tell me." he groans against your skin, pulling you closer to him by your hips. Every touch he placed upon your skin made you shiver, he could feel it. You wanted this as much as he did so why were you so keen on pushing him away.

He nips at your neck and you let out a whine, squeezing him with your thighs.

"This means something different to me." you finally say, so quiet that he almost misses it, his mind focused on the taste of your skin. He pulls back slightly, looking at you through hooded eyes. You looked so torn, as if you were enjoying his ministrations while at the same time telling yourself that this wasn't right.

He feels his heart sink at the same time that his cock twitches and begs for you. He knew what you meant. He could see it in your eyes, could feel it under your skin, conflict raging hot under his touch. He knew that he had to stop, that he needed to stand up and leave but he didn't want to. You were so sweet, so kind, so soft.

Unlike Lila, unlike anything he had ever experienced. Where Lila bit and scratched until he was full of wounds and pain and anger, you soothed and kissed and filled him with an intoxication that he wanted to drown in. He brings your hand to his mouth, turning it until he's kissing your wrist, your heart beating against his lips. "Then show me, Eight." he begs, his voice a desperate plea. "Show me what it means to you."

It was selfish and wrong and maybe after it was all over, he'd come to regret it. But right now he wanted you. Wanted to sink into you, into your warmth. He needed to feel wanted. To feel anything but the anguish that had settled in his bones. He wanted to forget and you offered him the perfect opportunity to do so. "Please."

You kiss him and he stops thinking. Your lips are on his, your hands pushing his arms out of the way, struggling with the buttons on his shirt. Your breath comes out ragged against his lips as he helps you undo his holster, letting it drop to the ground as your mouth finds his neck. Your tongue is hot against his flesh, your teeth grazing the skin there before you lift your head and kiss him again.

You were so gentle even though he didn't deserve it.

His shirt falls to the ground, your hand tracing his chest, the scars that litter his body. It rests against his abdomen, slowly inching lower and lower until you're squeezing his cock through his jeans and he lets out a low moan.

Diego lets you tease him, tossing his head back as you stroke and squeeze him, your mouth on his Adam's apple. He groans, whispers your name and you undo his belt, his button, his zipper. He feels your hand slip inside his boxers, flesh against flesh, your thumb against the tip of his cock, wet with precum. You drag it down his length and he shivers, sinking his fingers into your waist when you close your fingers around the base and slowly begin to stroke him.

He wishes he had taken you to a room. He wanted to lay you down and taste your cunt. He wanted you to cum on his tongue, your hands in his hair, his name on your lips.

You twist your fist around the head of his cock and his thoughts shatter, his mouth once more on your neck, kissing and panting, laving at the skin there with his tongue.

"On top," he growls, pushing your hand from his cock and picking you up so that he can switch positions with you. He moves until he's the one sitting on a step and you're straddling his hips, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"You're so beautiful," he groans lifting his hips until his cock connects with your cunt, the fabric of your pants soft as he helps you roll your hips against him. You whimper and he wastes no time in kissing you, tasting your desire.

You moan his name against his lips and warmth pools in his belly, filling his veins. "Lean back, " he tells you and you obediently do as told.

He wanted to devour you whole, but settles on quickly pulling your shirt off of you, tossing it towards the door. His lips find your collarbone and he kisses and nips at the skin there, his cock running along the length of your clothed cunt.

His lips trail lower and lower, one arm keeping you from falling, the other one finds the clasp of your bra. Easily he undoes it and it joins your shirt on the floor.

His mouth is on your nipple, suckling and licking it until its hard and you're moaning his name, pulling him closer. Gently he bites down on it, the salty taste of your sweat making him groan and reach for his cock.

"Diego!" you shout, voice reverberating in the empty staircase. He's switched to your other nipple, stroking himself in tandem to your moans.

"Get up," he struggles to talk, letting your nipple slip from his mouth. "I want my cock in you."

You blink a few times, letting him help you to your feet, his hands wasting no time in pulling them down alongside your underwear. Sitting down, he's almost face level with your cunt and he's tempted to have you put a leg on his shoulder so he could taste you, his fingers stroking the neat patch of hair between your legs. He tells himself that next time, he will.

"Come here," he whispers, leaning back. He wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and holds it towards you. "Come ride me, baby girl." He squeezes, a drop of precum welling at the tip before it rolls down the underside of his cock, gathering between his fingers.

You place your hands on his shoulder, slowly kneeling on the step as you toss your other leg over his hips. You're flushed, panting, brows knitted together and before you can straddle him fully, his hand is on your face, holding your cheek.

He knows that its unfair to you. That this would hurt you more than him, but for once in a very long time, Diego felt at peace. The repercussions didn't matter. Not right now, at least.

He leans into you and kisses you. His lips soft, tender. This kiss is slower that the others, careful. He pulls back and looks at you, you're face twisted as if you were on the edge of crying.

"I love you," you finally admit out loud and his heart breaks and forms back together all at once, inhaling sharply from the pain. Your voice trembles as you reach for his cock and hold it against your cunt, slowly easing down on it. "I love you, Diego." you repeat, milking him as you take the first inch. His mouth falls slack, groaning from deep in his chest at the feeling of you around him, his eyes still on yours. He can't look away. He has to look. Has to remember everything about this moment.

You're hot and wet and so, so fucking tight around his cock, your walls clenching and unclenching as you take another inch, gasping for a breath.

"I love you." you keep saying, digging the knife deeper into his chest.

"I know." he finally answers, leaning his head on your shoulder as you bottom out, the tip of his cock tightly nuzzled in your cunt. It feels like heaven, like the last two pieces in a puzzle. His fingers dance along your curved spine, making you shiver and squeeze him even harder.

He wishes he could say it back, rocking his hips as he moves inside of you, pulling out and pushing back in. He wishes that it had been you, not Lila that he had fallen in love with as you wrap your arms around him and gasp as he keeps a steady, languid rhythm.

Diego kisses your shoulder as you match his pace with your hips, nails sinking into his back. He wishes that time would stop and it'd be you and him, trapped here forever.

"Perdoname," he whispers against your skin, pushing his cock deeper into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. He repeats his apology, picking up his pace and trailing kisses up your neck.

"I love you," you cry out, gently pushing him away as you bounce your hips, matching his pace. You take his hand and place it over your heart, riding him as he slows and feels how hard it beats under his palm. "I've always loved you, Diego. My heart has always been yours." you're breathless as you talk, taking every inch of him.

"I wish things were different," he whispers, voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths. And part of him truly, honestly wishes that it was.

He can almost feel your heart breaking, digging his fingers into your hips and holding you still as he begins to fuck you desperately, your name falling from his lips as you grow tighter, wetter.

Did you see this moment coming? Or in your eyes had the future been different? Was there a world out there, where he did not break your heart? Diego looks into your eyes, finds the pain and anguish there that he had selfishly caused and he cups your face in his hands. "En otra vida," he speaks quietly, too scared to say it in english. "Yo te prometo que soy tuyo."

You let out a muddled whimper, your rocking growing frantic as you get closer to your orgasm, tears welling in your eyes. "Do you promise?" you choke out and Diego nods, kissing you.

His lips ask you for forgiveness for hurting you just because he was hurting. They move in tandem with yours, sweet and painful at the same time, the pressure in his cock growing and growing as you bounce harder and harder, squeezing him until he lets out a growl and bites down on your lip.

You come first. His mouth is still on yours, the kiss turning into something sloppy and dirty as you moan his name and unravel on top of him, pussy tightening around his cock with such strength that for a moment he doesn't hear or see anything, the world around him turning into a white haze.

When his senses come back, you're chanting his name, twitching and rocking against him, coming down from your high.

"One more," he pleads, smoothing your hair away from your face. "Come around my cock one more time."

Maybe you're just as desperate as he is to make this moment last because you nod lazily and he smiles at you, the pressure at the base of his cock growing and growing as he begins to piston into you, lifting himself from the step. One hand caresses your head, the other one sinks into the flesh of your ass, holding you against him as he cums inside of you at the same time you clench down on him harder, mouth seeking his.

He knows that he's broken your heart. That even though you're panting and holding onto him, he's lost you forever. You lean against him, spent and broken, pussy still milking him for all he's got.

He kisses the side of your head gently, in no rush to move, to have this come to an end. Reality waited for him, for you at the edge of the staircase but he just wanted a second more.

He caresses your back, kissing your temple, your forehead, your shoulder. Where he found skin, he kissed. Silent apologies for what he's done to you, for what he could not offer. His fingers retrace the length of your spine, up and down, over and over again. You've laid your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath and he doesn't mind. Finds the way your chest rises and falls against him to be soothing.

He doesn't know how long both of you stayed there before he slides out of you with a groan, breaking the spell. You sit up, and already he misses your warmth, growing cold as he helps you to your feet, helps you gather your clothes and once more slip into them.

He makes you turn around to clasp your bra together, kissing your shoulder blade. He smooths down your hair when you pull your shirt on, kissing your forehead for the last time when you're both dressed and decent, the smell of sex clinging to you, to him, to the staircase.

He hopes that you find a future where you forget all about him. Where you find someone worthy of your kind heart, of your soft words, of your gentle nature.

"I'm sorry," he repeats for what seems like the hundredth time, taking your hand and kissing your fingertips. This apology is for using you, for taking advantage of the love in your heart. Whatever he had done in the past to make you fall in love with him, he's sorry.

You nod, pulling your hand away from his. "I know." you say gently, quietly, sadly. You don't look at him, and he doesn't reach for you.

Guilt settles into his heart, heavy and bothersome as he pushes open the door and leaves you alone in the staircase.

AN: Thank you for reading! Here are the translations of all the Spanish words:

Perdoname- forgive me

En otra vida- In another life

Yo te prometo que soy tuyo- I promise you that I am yours.

[sassydefendorflower]

It's actually so important to me that the first time we see Ed actually cry in Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood and Manga) - apart from the automail surgery - is when Hohenheim offers him his life to bring back Alphonse.

Throughout the entire story Ed doesn't cry because of his misguided love-filled promise to Al. No matter how horrible their odds, no matter how traumatizing their journey, Ed refuses to cry. He comes close. So, so close. When Izumi tells them it's okay to be sad, offering comfort after a long time without. After Nina dies and Ed and Al let the rain wash away their sorrow. When Hughes dies and guilt becomes an even heavier cloak weighing their shoulders down. When death comes knocking on Ed's door and he decidedly sends it packing.

Ed laughs and rages and smiles and screams.

But he doesn't cry.

Just because Al can't.

Ed was eleven when he made that promise. He was a child suffering through something truly horrific when he promised himself and the world that he wouldn't cry as long as his brother wasn't allowed to do the same.

Which is painful to watch - especially since it tells us that Ed knows how much crying is a part of life. He gave something up, not out of some misguided idea of masculinity, but because he knew it would be a sacrifice to keep himself from crying. A punishment since his brother could no longer offer his tears in the face of sorrow.

But by the end of the story Ed has cried. And it's not tears of joy, like the ones he promised Winry. No, Ed is angry when he cries - and Alphonse is no longer there.

In a way Ed kept his promise to Al - he only cried when the person he made this promise to (be it silent and secretive) was gone.

As far as they knew Al was dead.

But that truth alone didn't bring tears to Ed's eyes, though it certainly shattered his heart and made him quiver in desperation. No, in the end it was Hohenheim who finally allowed Ed to spill tears kept locked away for four long years.

And I love it.

I love that Hohenheim trying to do something truly loving, something completely selfish, something absolutely sacrificial was the thing that pushed Ed over the edge.

Because Ed never forgave his father for leaving, but by the end of the story he understands why he left.

Because Ed is so unbelievably angry with this man who abandoned him, and he still cares for him - partially because he knows Alphonse does.

Because Ed was never forced to forgive Hohenheim, but we still know that Hohenheim loves his children and his wife and would do everything for them.

Even, no, especially if it means dying.

And Ed can't take it.

So many others have died by this point, they are all painted in blood and pain, and Ed has lost his only constant - and now his father wants to make an ultimate sacrifice?

No.

So, Ed gets angry. And he cries. And he saves Al on his own - with the help of all of his friends, and Hohenheim.

Because no matter Ed's feelings on the man who gave him life, he doesn't want to see anyone else die. He doesn't want anyone else's blood on his hands.

And he wants Hohenheim to get a chance to be a rotten father - because at the end of the day Hohenheim is someone worth crying over even, no, especially by the boy who promised he wouldn't cry.

(there is something to be said about Hohenheim crying on their family portrait, only to be mirrored by Ed grinning while holding his own child - there is something to be said about Hohenheim willingly offering his life, only to be stopped by the tears running down his son's angry face - there is something to be said about Ed's anger and Hohenheim's soft grief and their shared past)

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi there!ever since I saw you when I first installed tumblr it just keeps getting better. I was wondering if you can write something about a hero being the sucess of a lab and the villain being a failure(Bonus if the lab is actually evil) Don't feel pressured to do this though😗

"Do you know why I'm considered the success, instead of the failure like you?" the hero asked.

The villain sneered at them. They yanked and thrashed and struggled against the shimmering containment that wrapped around them, warping like a net from the hero's outstretched fingers, forcing them down against the cold concrete.

"Because you're a good, obedient little hero?"

The hero couldn't keep the damn trap up forever!

"Yes."

The simple response, the tone, startled the villain enough that they went temporarily still. Maybe that was the ploy. They stared at the hero through the hazy sheen of their powers, mockery draining from their face, panting for breath.

The hero had many things that the villain didn't: a body that wasn't screwed up, powers that weren't prone to out-of-control devastation, a generally sweet and more palatable disposition when it came to public relations.

And, of course, they did what they were told. The villain had never properly thought about that.

"It was their most important addition, after you...you know," the hero said, studying them. "The ability to control their experiments. To make sure that nothing like you would happen again."

A bad taste slowly flooded the villain's mouth. They shook their head.

The hero stepped forward, crouching down in front of the villain, on the other side of the containment wall. Up close, the villain got a good look at the vein snaking up the hero's wrist. The blood was just slightly the wrong colour; it made them look gorgeously healthy, radiant, compared to the sickly pallor the villain couldn't quite shake.

"If I stop taking the serum for my powers, I die," the hero said, keeping their voice light. "Quite horribly. But while the serum is in my system, I'm not in control. Not really. Everything I do is monitored. If I stray too far out..." The hero grimaced.

"Why are you telling me this?" the villain whispered.

"Because I can't do anything about it. I can't do anything about them. I signed up to do something good, to make the world better, and I..." The hero squeezed their eyes shut. "Well. I'm going to try and drag you back to them, aren't I? I'm going to hand you over to the people who hurt you, and then I'm going to make a speech telling everyone what a terrible, awful monster you are as if they don't deserve everything you give them. I'll smile while I'm doing it too."

The villain swallowed. They strained to press a hand up against the wall, but it only forced them back down against the ground harder. The villain's breath knocked out of them.

The hero winced. "Sorry."

"Isn't it better to be dead?"

"You didn't think so when you ran."

No. Maybe that had been an unfair question to ask. Still, the fury and the helplessness of it seared through the villain because ShieldCorp - they were going to get away with it. All of the others were dead! Even if they managed to expose what was really happening, ShieldCorp had the hero.

"I wanted to do something good too," the villain said, hollow. "It's not your fault they took advantage of that."

The hero shrugged. Their hand stayed perfectly steady.

"Are they listening to us now?"

"Probably."

"They'll be angry with you."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Me telling you this doesn't change anything, does it?"

"I thought you were like them. I hated you. It changes that."

The hero smiled, or something like it. It was too fragile, too wobbly, too shattered a thing compared to the beautiful thing they tossed out to the masses at every public appearance.

"I want to destroy them," the hero said. "But, when I let this force field drop so I can take you in properly, I'm going to need your help to do that. How are your powers feeling today?"

"Like I'm going to burn down the world."

The hero nodded, just once, and rose again. Silhouetted against the skyline, they looked unstoppable.

"Excellent," the hero said. "On the count of three, start with me."

The villain was ready when the containment dropped.

ShieldCorp was not.

[mintiicinnamonii]

Im a sucker for angst so uhhh

Can I request a Macaque x reader who was once possessed by the LBD

And he can't help but flinch whenever they get mad cuz it reminds him of that time

And last but not least, u doin okay?

Oh Who is She?

You and Macaque got into a fight. A BIG fight. About what? You didn’t even remember anymore. You gritted your teeth as Macaque tried to reason with you, fists shaking. You snapped your head over to him, glaring at him with daggers in your eyes, and Macaque swore he saw a shimmer of blue in them. “GOD, WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP?!” 

Macaque flinched, backing up in shock and fear. His golden eyes widenedas he stared at you, throat dry. He was unable to speak, with his ears pinned back against his head, as a familiar feeling of dread filled his mind. The same dread he’d feel when he was around HER. He looked like a trapped animal; a horrified, weak, trapped animal. 

You maintained your scowl, until you suddenly realized what you did. The glass of water you were holding fell onto the ground, as your breathing quickened. “Macaque- I- I’m sorry- I- I didn’t mean to..” You covered your mouth, hyperventilating. The feeling of someone behind you sent a chill up your spine, and you felt something scratching at your skull. You wanted- no- NEEDED to get it out. You fell onto the floor, desperately picking up the broken shards with your shaking hands, biting your tongue so the tears wouldn’t fall. You cut your hands on the glass as you picked the shards up- it was so hard to hold anything- why was it so hARD-

Macaque saw your panicked state, and was immediately filled with worry. He was still shaken up by your sudden anger, but this wasn’t the time to worry about himself right now. “Woah- plum- you’re gonna hurt yourself!” He crouched down to you, holding your hands. He frowned, seeing how much they were shaking, “Hey, hey.. its okay. Look at me. Hey, look at me.” You hesitatantly shifted your gaze to your boyfriend, as Macaque smiled at you softly. “Thats it.. I need you to breathe with me, m’kay? In and out...” He inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, squeezing your hand. “You can do it, gem..”

You were quivering, but did your best to breathe as Macaque uttered sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re doing so good for me, starlight.. just like that…”

Soon enough, you were able to calm down enough, looking up at Macaque. “Sorry..” Your voice was raspy from the yelling and crying. “I shouldnt have snapped at you- god, why did I do that- I’m a horrible partner-“ Macaque furrowed his brows. “No. No you’re not. You are an amazing partner. You didn’t mean to-“

“BUT THAT DOESNT MAKE IT OKAY!” You sobbed. “If I hadn’t been possessed by that damn DEMON- none of this would have happened! I ruined everything; I wasn’t strong enough to fight against her, its all my fault!” The tears came in full force now, your eyes like waterfalls carved into your skull by the Lady Bone Demon’s cold, clawed hands, water rushing it from a dam of your own self hatred. “You shouldn’t have to put all of your struggles aside just for me! I fucked up!” 

Macaque let out a slow sigh. “Yeah. You did… but.. I forgive you.” Your eyes widened. “What?”

“I forgive you. I understand that you were the one that yelled at me, and yes, it still hurt..” He held your hand, his calloused hands intertwining with yours. “But I understand you didn’t mean to hurt me, and that you want to be better. And I still love you.” He gave your hand a gentle kiss, tail curling around your leg. Your heart’s icy walls shattered, replaced by pure adoration and raw emotion. “I love you too.” You smiled shakily. Macaque helped you up, careful to not let either of you step on the glass. “Lets go patch ya up, yeah? I’ll clean that up later..” 

You smiled. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

[everydayyoulovemeless]

FO4 companions attempting to give Sole a haircut but they fuck it up really bad? I just got back from a horrible hairdresser visit and I need the cope

Fo4 Companions Accidentally Giving Sole A Bad Haircut

➼ Word Count » 0.8k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic, Hurt/Comfort? ➼ A/N » It's been a few months since you've requested this so I'm praying you're feeling better now!

You know MacCready messed something up when he begins chuckling nervously, rests a shaky hand on your shoulder, and starts talking way more than usual. He tries to stall you looking in the mirror for as long as possible but, when you eventually do, he’s biting his fist in awkwardness. He won’t lie, this is not his best work, but he never promised perfection. Nevertheless, he feels awful for what he’s done and will let you wear his hat to cover it until it grows back.

Nick will tell you flat out when he messes it up. He'll sigh apologetically, saying he should've just waited to have Ellie cut it or, I don't know, taking you to Kathy and John's Super Salon, right across the street from his agency. He doesn't do anything more to it and takes you straight to the salon to see if you can't salvage it. He feels awful about it, and will never touch your hair again.

Cait knows she isn't going to do a good job with it, but she doesn't tell you that and agrees to cut it anyway. Normally, when she wants to cut her hair, she'll just take any shape object she can get a hold of and start chopping away, and that's exactly what she does with you. She'll sit you down, pull out a pocket knife, and slice whole chunks off at a time. The worst part is that she's got no shame in it.

Preston will gasp quietly and cover his mouth with his hand. He refuses to move and will just stand there, completely still until you ask him what's wrong. He doesn't even know where to begin telling you how badly he's messed up and will instead, just apologize, rest his hands on the back of your shoulders, and rub reassuring circles into them with his thumbs. There are plenty of generals who don't have good hair! Nothing to fret over!

Codsworth will let out a silent 'Oh dear' and turn his buzzsaw off. Eventually, he'll begin reminding you of a separate time when you'd come back from the barber with you're hair all fucked, before explaining that he did exactly that. He tries to be light-hearted about it, but he's just as devastated as you are, possibly even more. He's a Mr. Handy, for Godsake! And he can't even do the basics!

Piper isn't even subtle about it. She'll just immediately begin comparing it to Atomites she's met through investigative journalism. She'll tell you that she's just giving you the 'wasteland special' and you shouldn't feel too upset about it. There are loads of people with this style! So, cheer up! It'll grow back!

Curie doesn't even realize she's messed anything up. In her opinion, any hairstyle any person has looks good. She doesn't quite understand the emotional attachment many people have toward it and just cuts it really short to help with mobility and whatnot. When you explain it to her, however, she starts to feel really guilty and will apologize nonstop.

Strong will just shave you bald. Now you look like him! What's there to be upset over? No support whatsoever from him.

Hancock will also just cut it with his knife, although, he's a lot more sympathetic than Cait. He'll hug you out of remorse and tell you it could be worse. You could be a ghoul and have no hair at all! Look at him! He can't even grow hair anymore so, don't feel too bad about it, alright?

Deacon will immediately fall to the ground in a squat, head in his hands as he simultaneously tries not to laugh or cry. He's cut his own hair so many times before with no issue - he cuts everyone in the Railroad's hair! - and it shatters him to know that he messed up on a craft he thought he perfected. He's supposed to be good at this! After a moment, he'll stand again and find you a wig in his collection for you to keep until your hair grows back. At least now the two of you can be wig buddies? Yay?

X6-88 will hum in defeat when he's messed it up before saying that he told you you should've gone to someone who actually knows how to cut hair. He can't comfort you for shit and probably just blames you for asking for help from someone who can't cut hair.

Old Longfellow knows how to cut hair. So, if he's messed it up, it means he was drunk. But, hey! Now you have a story to tell the folks at The Last Plank! So, he'll take you straight there so you can, hopefully, drink it off and laugh with the other regulars about it. No harm done!

Gage will tell you straight out that he's fucked it up badly, but he's not that concerned with it. If you seem upset, he'll just shrug and tell you it's not as bad as some of the other raiders in this place. If it bothers you that much, though, he'll get you a helmet for you to wear for the time being. It's safer for you anyway.

[undertheopensky]

If You Can't Say Anything Nice 2

Whumptober Day 31: Emptiness

Characters: Sky, Legend

Trigger warnings: Anxiety, Bullying, Miscommunication

AN: No, I don’t know why this and only this decided to be in past tense. I just work here, folks, and barely at that.

Read on Ao3!

Missed the first instalment? Read it here!

---

Truth be told, the first time Wild called Legend for dinner and got nothing more than a nod and a thumbs-up, Sky had wondered if something was wrong. The veteran was terse, but not quiet. Was he not feeling well?

Then it kept happening. Moments Legend should have filled with a comment went empty. He stopped chipping in at story time over the fire. When Hyrule tried to draw him into conversation, he stayed silent, just nodding or shrugging or shaking his head.

The night Sky saw him sitting away from the fire, staring blankly off into the forest and hugging himself, he had to intervene. He had to at least try to reach out, even if prickly Legend snapped at him for it.

(He doesn’t. He shatters.)

He got the story between fits of near-silent weeping. Offering help and being rebuffed, time and time again. Trying to joke, only to have someone yell and call him a bully. Constantly told off for speaking his mind – was he really such a horrible person, that no one else could stand hearing his thoughts? he asked. Why was he always so mean? He didn’t understand.

And that – that broke Sky’s heart.

Legend was crying in earnest now. The wet, choked noises managed what his withdrawal hadn’t, catching attention from across the fire. Twilight rolled his eyes, a smile playing around his lips, and opened his mouth to say something –

Without blinking Sky hurled his belt knife.

The whole camp froze. Twilight sat stiff, the knife just kissing his ear where it had sunk hilt-deep into the tree behind him. Wind had jumped and spilled half a waterskin on his tunic. Everyone was staring wide-eyed at the sudden and seemingly unprovoked violence from sleepy Sky.

Legend missed it. He had buried his head in his knees, muffling his already-strangled sobs. Gently, Sky drew his sailcloth around Legend’s shoulders, then turned to rapidly sign, You were about to say something mean. He’s upset, and you were going to poke fun.

Warriors huffed and made as if to comment, only to pale when Sky reached for his carving knife next. Carefully, he raised his hands, and when that didn’t earn Sky’s ire signed We’re only joking. We always bicker with Legend, we don’t mean anything by it.

Legend doesn’t know that, Sky signed, stone-faced.

Warriors looked stunned. Under his scars, Wild had gone an awful grey.

You’re always telling him how mean or rude he is, Sky continued. You called him a bully last week for trying to help Wind. He hasn’t said anything in days, and when he breaks down, your first reaction is to tease him for it. I don’t think Legend’s the mean one here.

Piece said, Sky turned back to Legend and dragged him into a tight hug. Legend flinched, briefly, then clung back. Legend had always been a little aloof, but now Sky wondered if he’d been misreading it all along.

Legend had been on seven adventures in eight years. How much time did that leave, Sky wondered, for learning how to be a person again in between?

Legend sobbed into his shoulder. He was still trying to hide it, huddled into Sky’s side, terrified of whatever judgement awaited him.

Not enough. Not nearly enough.

[alphajocklover]

You have to help me! I've been trying to get free of this... place for a long LONG time. After some time I've been able to gain back some free will, but it's really hard. Right now, as my "physicall" me picked his phone at the gym between reps, I've been able to log on here and I saw what you published about the Retsam Mirror. You have to help me. I've been stuck in it for years. I was a nerd when i first fell by accident on the mirror and i got sucked in. I can't do this anymore. The new me is a honry bastard and he spends his time getting fucked in front of mirrors, a lot and a lot of them. My reflections are exponentials and i feel every single one of them. Oh fuck he just got a notification from HungDomTop11in. Help m................

A Retsam mirror. You found a Retsam mirror. Another Retsam mirror. For those of you who didn’t see my earlier post, a Retsam mirror is an incredibly rare magical artifact that lets a person switch places with their reflection, which essentially traps the person in their reflection and leaves a very suggestable copy in their place. It was weird enough to hear that one guy had encountered one of those that hadn’t already been shattered, but if what you’re telling me is true… then whoever trapped that poor guy has been trapping people in mirrors for much longer than we thought. I can only guess, and hope, that you were one of his earliest victims. I know you said you fell in but… if that was true then your other self wouldn’t have acted any differently than you. Someone had to have pushed you in, and then used your reflections malleable state to change them. I have to say, as horrified as I am by all of this… I’m also kind of impressed. Not with the jerk who's been trapping people, but with you. It takes a lot of willpower to keep your mind intact while in a reflection. Most people lose themselves in it, not having the ability to choose their movements but still feeling everything. Yet what’s even more impressive is the fact you were actually able to take back control for a bit. From what I’ve heard, that's supposed to be impossible. For you to do that… It's truly incredible. I’m just sorry that it might not be able to help save you.  As far as I know, there isn’t a way to get out of a Retsam mirror, at least not on your own. Either your reflection would have to willingly swap back, which seems unlikely, or the guy who pushed you in would have to switch you again, which seems even less likely. I’ve been looking into ways to help get people out of Retsam mirrors since I first heard they were back, but I haven’t found much yet. So I’m afraid that, for the time being, you’re stuck there.

Don’t give up hope though! You’ve managed to do more than anyone else in your position has. Not to mention, the information you’ve given me may be invaluable to figuring out how to save and protect people from Retsam mirrors. I’ve been messing with a spell that might allow me to use my own Retsam mirror to help people stuck in reflections, or at least communicate with them, so there is light at the end of the tunnel.

I know this entire situation is horrible, but the reporter in me has to admit it’s kind of fascinating. It’s incredibly rare you get to talk to someone who's been inside a reflection, so I had no idea you could feel what was happening inside each and every reflection, even if you were reflected in multiple mirrors at once. That must be very overwhelming, especially if your other self is hooking up in front of mirrors. Feeling yourself get fucked by a a potentionally infinite amount of cocks all at once… As hot as that sounds it must be really intense.

Here's just hoping your other self doesn’t take advantage of it too much.