#and this is true of many things I rejected because it felt wrong

[deoidesign]

Finally I have allowed myself to love that which I had denied myself so long

[totalswag]

worthy of love — RAFE CAMERON

authors note something short and cute for you guys. also, rafe deserves to be treated with the love that he desires. he just wants to be understood yall.

paring mean!rafe x soft!reader

summary soft!reader wants to show mean!rafe that he's worthy of love but he pushes reader away until one day he finally knows what love truly feel like.

warnings neglect, feeling unworthy of love, ward being a shitty father, and a lovely happy ending.

Rafe Cameron believed he would never be capable of love in his life.

Raised in a family where love was a rare commodity, Rafe grew up believing that affection, vulnerability was a weakness that should be avoided at all costs. But little did he know that someone was about to turn his life upside down and teach him the true meaning of love.

You.

His father, Ward Cameron, is part of the reason Rafe is the way he is. Ward tells him to man up rather than express his feelings and be vulnerable. Overall, his father has never treated him with the proper care compared to his two younger sisters. This sent Rafe into a downward spiral, leading to a darker path in his life. Rafe held his guard up.

You entered his world like a breath of fresh air, bringing with you a warmth and tenderness he had never felt before. Rafe first rejected your presence, pushing you away with his harsh remarks and cold demeanor. But you saw through his strong facade, understanding the agony and vulnerability that lay underneath the surface.

"Why do you treat me like this? I’m not someone that deserves to be loved." 

Rafe was initially perplexed as to why, of all the people on the island, someone as kind and gentle as you would want to be with him. 

One of the many things Rafe would tell you when you tried to show him that he’s capable of being loved by someone, he would shut you out immediately when you tried showing him.

People said you were crazy for pursuing Rafe Cameron. His reputation in Kildare is immense. You just chose to ignore what other people had to say because you felt Rafe deserved love.

The first time you heard those words come out of his mouth, your heart broke into a million pieces. Behind all of the roughness, coldness, and unpredictable behavior, he is someone who wants to be loved.

Rafe continued to push you away for the longest time, hoping you would get the hint. Finally, giving in after protracted arguments. For far too long, he had kept his guard up to protect himself. He did not want to feel weak for expressing himself. Rafe noticed how long you stayed by his side.

You gradually began to break down the walls Rafe had placed around his heart. You showed patience and understanding by refusing to give up on him, even when he tried to push you away. Rafe became increasingly drawn to you as time passed, yearning for the love and acceptance that had always escaped him.

Rafe started to trust again as your relationship deepened. He progressively exposed a gentler, softer side of himself, something he had never seen before. He realized there are individuals out there, like you, who care passionately and will be by his side through thick and thin.

All he ever wanted was to feel fully understood and seen. You came into his life when he was in the deepest pain and saved him. You showed he’s worthy of love, compassion, gratitude, and vulnerability are truly like, and there is nothing wrong with it. He transformed into a very different person than anyone could have predicted.

"You're the most amazing person I've ever laid eyes on, baby," Rafe said with a lovely smile on his lips, sliding the front strand of your hair behind your ear as you moved your body closer to his and closed your eyes.

“I love you so much rafey” kissing his bare shoulder a few times.

“And I love you more,”

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[skyahri]

Blind |Naruto Men X Uchiha!Reader| HC

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Madara Uchiha, Hashirama Senju

Summary: How they handle their partner losing their sight due to the effects of the Mangekyo Sharingan.

Warnings: Mentions of fem, but not very relevant. Mentions of war and loss of sight.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Kakashi Hatake

He knew the day would come when the Sharingan would take your vision, but he didn't know it'd be so soon.

There were no other eyes available to you at the moment, so eternal was not an option.

Not that'd you do it anyway. It was highly against your beliefs to partake in the Uchiha nonsense that was eye swapping.

Something that drew Kakashi towards you in the first place.

You'd been preparing for this day since you first awakened your mangekyo.

You'd memorized the layout of your apartment, practiced roaming the village in a blind fold, and learned braille.

You'd been coping well, Kakashi... not so much.

He couldn't deal with the knowledge that you'd sacrificed your vision for the sake of the village.

You'd given up everything during your years as a shinobi, and this was the icing on top of the cake.

He'd watch you every day.

Watch you drag your hands across the walls of your apartment. Watch you walk a bit too far past the stall in the market. Watched you struggle to do simple things like grocery shopping.

Over time, you'd become worse and worse at eye contact, and that ate him alive.

There were no more longing looks or sneaky glances. Even your attempts to appear as if you could see were slowly declining, and it dampened his mood every time.

He felt as if he'd failed you. If only he'd been stronger, you wouldn't have had to overuse your doujutsu.

But he stayed quiet because you seemed happy. You were alive and safe and happy, and that's all he could ask for.

Shikamaru Nara

After the war, your vision had completely vanished. There were no blurry shapes or deaf perception problems because there was simply no sight.

There was no time to prepare. You hadn't planned on having to use the mangekyo so much in battle, and the price was astronomical.

He tried to help where he could, but you were being stubborn, constantly rejecting any aid he tried to provide.

"Just let me-"

"I told you I can do it myself."

"No, you can't, just let me-"

And that's when he felt the sobs rack through your body. Tears quickly fell down your face and your hands couldn't keep up.

He sighed and forced everything out of your hands.

"I can't do anything anymore."

"That's not true."

You scoffed, a bitter laugh leaving your lips.

"I can't go grocery shopping or cut fruit or put dishes away without running into everything or breaking something or,"

"Give it time. It'll get better."

"Two weeks ago, I was a shinobi. Today, I'm just a blind girl who can barely feed herself."

Shikamaru wasn't sure what to do. Strategy was easy becausebit was all factual. Feelings, though? So many variables he didn't know where to start.

He confided in Kakashi at some point, but wasn't too pleased with the advice he got it.

"Let her figure it out. She's a smart girl."

Despite thinking it was a stupid suggestion, he listened.

Slowly, over time, you'd regained your confidence and became the capable person you had previously been.

Doesn't stop Shikamaru from uncharacteristically babying you sometimes, though.

Sasuke Uchiha

He offered you his eyes, but you declined.

You weren't fond of Uchiha tradition despite being raised by it. Taking his eyes just felt like you'd be starting the new age Uchiha clan off on the wrong foot.

So you chose blindness.

It was difficult at first, but you quickly learned to get around and help yourself with little to no issue.

You'd gone from stumbling around the kitchen to making yourself breakfast within a few months.

Living with out sight wasn't too bad, and you'd grown accustomed to it. You felt like you'd made the right decision.

Until your first son was born.

It wasn't the parenting aspect that you found difficult, it was the emotional one.

When Sasuke told you your son looked just like Itachi, you knew you'd have to see for yourself.

So, you allowed Sakura to do the transplant.

Within seconds after the bandages were off and you had time to adjust to light, your sight was fully restored.

Sasuke brought in your baby, and wouldn't you know it? He looks exactly like Itachi.

The sharingan is based on strong emotions, yeah? Maybe you can base it on love in the new Era.

Naruto Uzumaki

Unlike the others, Naruto finds the whole eye transplant thing horrendous.

"What do you mean by that, huh? You freaks just trade eyes like around? That's the worst thing I've ever heard."

Although he wasn't happy with your newfound loss of sight, he wasn't one to label anything as a downside.

A setback? Sure. Negative? Never.

Hes overall very patient about it, even if in the moment he gets a little ahead of himself.

He's always forgetting that you're blind, so he'll ask you to look at things all the time.

"Hey, what's this?"

You just shrug. He may or may not bring your hand to the object to get a feel, but he mostly just gets embarrassed and drops it.

It honestly hadn't really dawned on him until he asked you to go train with him and you'd refused.

Sure, you could overtime work yourself up to be a shinobi again, but at this point in your life, that just wasn't the dream anymore.

Madara Uchiha

He thinks you're being stupid.

This world is all about power and you're choosing to be blind?

Idiotic.

You may be his wife, but he ignores you for quite some time after you make it clear there will be no eternal in your future.

It's an easy justification for him; he doesn't mingle with the weak.

Life gets pretty lonely after he decides to completely shut you out. Yeah, he sees Hashirama and makes his round through the compound, but it's not the same.

It isn't until he sees you in the village, going about life as you had months ago, that he starts to think maybe he was too hasty.

After all, he had married you for many reasons, and a big one was how skilled you were at adapting.

That night, when he finally returns home, he decides to sleep in your marital bed, not in the guest room.

The next day, he joins you for breakfast.

He came home early from his duties for the first time in a while.

He even started speaking to you once again.

You don't say anything right away. You know how he is about changing his mind, and you aren't willing to push your luck.

Things slowly get better over the span of a few weeks, and that's when you decide it's time to question him.

"I take it you've come to terms with my decision?"

"Of course not. I still think you're a fool."

Just the answer you'd expect.

"But I have missed you dearly."

You smile at him.

Hashirama Senju

The eternal was never something either of you had considered, so when your vision eventually dulled, it was fully expected.

Times were peaceful at the moment, so he had no need to worry for your safety.

You were almost always near someone willing to lay their life down for you- himself, Tobirama (reluctantly), or Madara - so there truly was no need to stress.

He helped as much as he could while also attending to his duties as Hokage.

Unlike Naruto, he had true patience. He happily held your hand every step of the way.

It wasn't long before your life was back on track, no longer burdened by the anxiety that came with cluelessness.

While Hashirama had preferred it never come to this in the first place, he was happy that things had worked out as best as they possibly could.

[violetarks]

third year! bakugou katsuki thinks it's pathetic how everyone tries to ask you to be their valentine while you stand absolutely awkwardly and oblivious to their advances.

he rolls his eyes, scoffing at how you tilt your head and ask 'what do you mean?' when a new second-year tries to confess through a heartfelt letter a week before valentines day. he's sitting in the cafeteria, a few tables away from you where you stand with your tray. his friends catch his line of sight and begin to watch too as you awkwardly take the letter and mention how it's your favourite colour, what a coincidence.

"man, poor y/n." kaminari sighs, "been getting bombarded with valentine's day proposals."

"acting like you werent one last year." sero snickers, elbowing the blonde, who replies with 'shut up!'.

"y/n, todoroki and momo have to be the most popular third years. i saw todoroki carrying a fruit arrangement yesterday with 'be my valentine' on some flags." mina states, drinking her orange juice.

jirou retorts, poking her food, "did you see y/n's shoe locker when they opened it? they were basically drowning in all those letters. and their desk was full of teddy bears and hearts and flowers."

"yaoyorozu told me that she felt so bad because she rejected someone who choreographed a flash mob for her." kirishima inputs, "but seriously, so many people have tried getting with y/n, it's insane."

katsuki only rolls his eyes again as you thank the person, who runs away giddily. you're so uninterested in the person that you just pocket it in your blazer for later. katsuki chuckles at the action before returning to his food.

he thinks it's so funny that everyone is fawning over you. he understood todoroki and yaoyorozu, they've been popular since day one. but you? what did anyone see in you?

"hey, bakugou, are you alright?" you ask, standing in front of him on the porch of the dormitory. it's now five days later and he blinks himself back to reality and swallows the lump in his throat. "you were kinda' just staring at me and that girl just then..."

it's true, he was. a first year, some lovesick teen girl, came to confess to you just then. you hold some chocolates in your hand and a bouquet of roses in another. your third this week, he tallies.

"i—i wasn't." he stammers, looking away. he was leaning against the pillar, watching you as he took in some fresh air. it was pure coincidence, he says. "what... did you tell 'em?"

"i felt a bit sorry, she cried a little when i said i'm not a fan of this kind of chocolate." you express, showing him the box. katsuki smirks. you were so blunt. "i still accepted it though, to make her feel better. i don't even know her, though."

"strange." he responds, staring at you, "so what now then?"

"do you want it?"

"i don't want your fucking confession candy." he scoffs, furrowed brows. he's irritated at the offer and you just tuck the chocolates underneath your arm. "why'd you say 'no'?"

"i... don't know her." you state as if it was obvious. he blinks and looks away. "i dunno', i've been getting asked a lot recently."

"that so?" it's so pathetic, how anyone would trip and fall at your feet at the slight chance to share valentine's day with you. he could think of a thousand things better to do tomorrow than spend it with you—

"how come you haven't asked me yet?" you inquire, pursing your lips, "to be your valentine?"

"hah?" he huffs out, making the most outraged expression on his face, "what the hell did you just say to me?"

you sigh, opening the entrance door with your new gifts, "nevermind."

he stares at you as you leave him alone on the porch. questions swirl in his mind, making him think about you even more. is this how you made so many admirers? you just... made them think about you? you were absolutely crazy.

that's got to me the most pathetic thing about valentine's day, right?

wrong.

katsuki annoyedly drops the chocolates that he knows for sure you love. and as he passes the flower section, oh god, the amount of time he spent trying to figure out which ones were the perfect ones. the cashier looks at him knowingly, wishing him 'goof luck' on his endeavour. katsuki scoffs and tells them to shut his mouth.

what's pathetic is that katsuki readies himself for asking you. now that he's got confirmation that you were expecting him to, he would do it. he is standing in front of your dorm door, holding the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear in his arms. he knows you have hundreds in your room right now, but... he's pathetic.

when his hand goes up to knock on your door, the elevator reaches the floor and opens to reveal you in the sports uniform.

you walk up, typing on your phone when you look up to your dorm to see him. "oh, hey."

"hey." he mumbles, trying his best to hide the presents behind his back, "went on a run?"

"no, quirk training, actually." you respond, unlockong your dorm. you walk in and turn your head. "did you need to talk to me?"

"well... i—"

"are those for valentine's day?" you point to the flowers that are badly hiden behind him.

katsuki grunts, finally revealing them, "y—yeah... i don't know how to do this."

"come in." you say, inviting him into your dorm. he nervously enters and closes the door behind him. you sit at our desk, leg over your knee, almost like you're inspecting him thoroughly. "so, who is it for?"

he stops. "huh?"

"i mean, who are you asking?" you mumble out. he doesn't know what to say. do you not remember asking him to ask you yesterday? "you're looking for advice, aren't you?"

suddenly, he's on the fire. he's in the position that he made fun of those other people for being in. and it fucking sucks.

it takes all his courage to sigh out, "no... no, you idiot. i'm asking you."

"wha—? me?" you point at yourself.

"yes! here!" he practically shoves them into your hands and steps away away. "i... want you to be my valentine tomorrow. please."

his harsh tone makes you rethink his statement. but katsuki sees a smile dawn on your face regardless, something the others who have asked you haven't seen.

"thank you, bakugou. i love them."

he knows damn well you do.

"i'd be happy to be your valentine." you confirm, standing up and placing the flowers on your desk. you put the chocolates and teddy on your bed, smiling the whole time. he gulps in anticipation, despite you already saying 'yes'. "thank you, truly. it's perfect."

katsuki clears his throat, hands in his pockets and he looks away, "'s nothin'."

you chuckle and step towards him, hand on his shoulder as you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"whatever you say. where did you wann' go tomorrow?"

he thinks it's pathetic how on valentine's day, you drag him to all the couple stalls and events, and even do a hand-reading (katsuki lets out a sigh of relief when they said that you two are quite the perfect match), but when it's with you, it's a lot less embarrassing to do it. in fact, he'd relive this whole day again if he could.

what's pathetic is how all those people thought they could have this time with you, when all you ever wanted was bakugou katsuki himself.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

A new beginning (drabble)

a/n: this is just a short fluffy (a bit angsty but happy ending) drabble i spit out after a 9 hour shift (horrible and i am exhausted). happy new year, my friends!❤️✨

Of course he's here.

How could he not be? After all, he's in your friend group and that makes it kind of hard to avoid him.

You weren't even supposed to be at the party but Jeongin gave you the cutest pout he could muster and you were too weak at the sight of his adorable face.

He even added in a 'please' and a fake sniffle, making Felix gag in the back as Changbin smirked.

You weren't too surprised they invited you dragged you out of the house since you hang out with them whenever they have free time but you really didn't wanna leave the comfort of your blanket.

The holidays always made you feel a little nostalgic, like you were saying goodbye to someone you know, the reality of another year quickly passing by settled in your brain.

It's been months since you last saw Hyunjin, and even then you avoided him like the plague.

Ever since that night two years ago, when you were so stupid to believe his lingering touches and sweet words meant something more.

You let yourself fall for him, believing wholeheartedly that he would catch you so you confessed. Hyunjin looked surprised, kind of like someone slapped him out of a trance while he stuttered out some excuse about 'not being ready for a serious relationship'.

You were so embarrassed at that moment as you mumbled something out and excused yourself. After the embarrassment came the disappoinment, then the sadness and doubt.

You started to think about every moment spent with him, how he was always so attentive towards you, how you could spend hours talking to him, that one time he held your hand, the way he smiled at you...

Were you wrong to think he loved you like you loved him?

Since then, you used every and any excuse to avoid him whenever everyone was hanging out together. You only went if he wasn't there, you couldn't even look at him after he rejected you.

But now, you had nowhere to run, not when his eyes caught yours as everyone walked out to the balcony to watch the fireworks.

A minute left until midnight. A minute left until your life changes completely. A minute left until your heart explodes together with the fireworks.

It felt like slow motion, all the other people around you becoming a blur as Hyunjin made his way towards you, a small unsure smile on his plump lips when he finally approached you.

You swallowed your heart and stared at him expectantly.

Thirty seconds left.

"Hey." he said.

God, you missed his voice.

"Hi." you almost ran out of breath.

Hyunjin wanted to say so many things to you.

That he was sorry, that he couldn't stop beating himself up for being terrified of something he always dreamed about, and he needed you to know that he loved you back then and has never stopped.

His tongue got twisted as you stared at him, the air became heavy with unspoken emotions and you were buzzing from being so close to him after all this time.

It was as if you hung out yesterday, talking about your dreams, your favorite albums, your biggest fears.

The countdown started.

Hyunjin's lips parted as he leaned in closer to you and your heart dropped in your stomach.

Five...

Four...

You could see your reflection in his adoring eyes.

Three...

His breath hit your face and like always he pulled you like a magnet, your soul screaming to stay in his presence.

Two...

Everyone was yelling but your focus was only on Hyunjin who was closing the gap that had grown between you.

One...

His lips pressed on yours as fireworks exploded in the background, shining over your heads as your friends cheered for a new beginning.

But no one cheered as happily as you and Hyunjin did, butterflies dancing in your tummy because finally everything you had dreamed of was about to come true.

This was going to be an amazing year, with many more to come.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them

[vyutg]

☆ virgin loser!hanbin

content ⊂⊃ loser!hanbin x female reader, 18+

️️ ️️️️️️️️️ ️️—

hanbin had always felt self-conscious about his lack of experience, hence his reluctance to physical intimacy. he was always shy and reserved, a true nerd at heart. you assumed he must have had at least some experience in doing sexual stuff. but he explained that he had always been focused in his studies.

he wasn’t clueless about it at all, he was just inexperienced. how many times has he touched himself to the thought of you?

hanbin started fidgeting with his glasses, an indication that he was nervous and that he had something on his mind. after a few moments of silence, you rolled your eyes and said, “we don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable, hanbin.” because as much as you wanted to seem unfazed by his behavior, you were still concerned about him.

he took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. “i’ve never done this before and i don’t want to disappoint you.” you could tell he was tense about the whole thing, too shy to make a move, afraid that you would judge or reject him.

you decided to be the one to initiate things and gently kissed his neck, causing him to let out a soft moan, his heart racing as you shifted forward and finally kissed his lips. it was like a switch had been flipped and his shyness disappeared in that moment. he slowly moved his lips along with yours, carefully, as if he was afraid of doing something wrong and make you stop.

the kisses turned into a heated make out session, with you seated on hanbin’s lap. you could feel his cock pressing against your cunt. you broke the kiss and looked at him, his face red as he seemed to be thinking carefully of what to do next. hanbin wanted you so bad. he wanted to touch you, to feel you. he wanted you to be his first so badly, but he was too shy that he didn’t know how to express it.

“do you trust me?”

he looked at you with complete honesty as anticipation built within him. “i trust you. i want nothing more than to please you. so please do whatever you need in the moment, if you have to pull me closer.. or push me away—“

“you talk a lot, loser.”

“sorry, i got carried—“ hanbin let out a soft gasp as your fingers glide over the buttons of his uniform, revealing more skin with each click. he once again bit his lip nervously, a silent encouragement for you to continue. he watched you take off his uniform and proceed to take off his pants as well.

by the time the last piece of his clothing hit the floor, he gulped nervously and mumbled, “should i undress you too?”

“you’re so polite, it turns me on.” you scoffed. “but yeah sure, if you’d like.”

he nodded. hanbin gently slid his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt and started pulling it up slowly. he audibly gulped at the sight of your breasts peeking out from the lace of your bra. he swallowed hard to keep his composure as he pulled your bra down, revealing more of your breasts with each passing second.

“you wanna feel them?” you asked.

he looked at you, fighting the urge to touch you and explore further.

“what? i need to know what you want, hanbin.”

he nodded eagerly, unable to resist you any longer. “i wanna touch you.”

that made you giggle. “see? it wasn’t that hard.”

he spent a few moments exploring your body; letting you feel the warmth of his palms on your breasts, trailing kisses down your neck, and tracing the curves of your body with his fingertips and lips. you both allowed yourselves to get lost in the sensation.

“i’ve been dying for this,” hanbin whispered into your ear as he positioned himself between your legs. he held onto your hips, steadying himself, eyes filled with desire. “tell me if it hurts.” he let out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to thrust into you right away.

“shut up, you’re the virgin one here— oh god!” you couldn’t help but moan when he entered you as he shuddered at the feeling of finally being inside you.

he groaned in relief and started moving slowly, every inch of him in you driving him wild. both of your bodies were shaking with each thrust.

“hngggh.. fuck— feels good.” he grew bolder in his movements, gradually picking up the pace, matching it with your breaths. your grip on his arms became tighter as he thrusted even faster, your breasts jiggling with every thrust.

hanbin thrusted harder, losing himself completely to his passion. you couldn’t do anything but moan under him as he moved in and out of you. “bin… please don’t stop… haaah…”

“fuck baby, fuck fuck fuck fuck— so close… so close baby..” he felt the intensity reaching its peak and thrusted harder and faster. he was panting heavily, eyes locked on yours.

you could see the sheer of satisfaction and happiness on hanbin’s face as he came on your stomach. he held you close as you both came down from your climax.

“how was it?” you asked, voice surprisingly soft and gentle.

he swallowed hard, feeling a wave of emotions. “it felt… great,” he said softly. “i never thought my first time would be with someone as amazing as you.” he continued, still panting.

hanbin had offered to clean you up before you could even scold him for cumming on you. but you were honestly thankful that he had pulled out even if you were on the pill. it just showed that he knew what to do during that moment, considering that you didn’t talk about contraceptives before doing the deed.

“thank you,” he said while you were laying together, voice thick with emotion.

you just smiled at him, finding the moment endearing that you didn’t want to ruin it by saying something mean. your loser deserves to be treated nicely and sweetly sometimes.

© vyutg, 2024.

[pretty-circa006]

Unhealthy Attachments pt. 5

Missing Him

��︎previous part

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader

summary Negan's indecisiveness is starting to take a toll on you tags more angst

wc 1.5k

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

 Every day since that afternoon in the church has been hell. Your dreams were so close to coming true. He said he wanted to make things work and treated you more affectionately than ever before, but quickly changed his mind not even an hour later. You felt your hope and happiness drain from within you, leaving you to be that empty shell you were before that day in his office. 

 You sat at the kitchen table, nibbling on some cereal. Your stomach was in far too many knots for food to be enjoyable. Thoughts of Negan plagued your mind no matter what you did. You heard someone walk into the kitchen, but you didn't bother looking up from your soggy cereal. 

"Honey," you mom said softly. You glanced up at her awaiting her next words. 

"Could you run down to the store and get a few things for the church picnic tomorrow?" she handed you the grocery list on a folded sheet of paper before you could even answer. You groaned internally, mainly because you didn't want to go to the store, but because you had forgotten all about the church picnic. You grumbled to yourself as you cleaned up your breakfast and trudged up to your room to get dressed. You were so dejected that you couldn't bring yourself to care about your puffy eyes and overall disheveled appearance. 

...

"You look like shit," you heard a voice say as you were looking at the expiration date on a carton of milk. You already knew who it was without having to look. It was Negan. Only he would break your heart then laugh about the aftereffects. 

"Feel like it too," you replied without looking at him. You couldn't, even though you desired to see his handsome face once again. You were sure you'd start bawling about what could have been. He'd have to be blind to not notice how heartbroken you were. You were wearing your heart on the sleeve of that tattered t-shirt you wore. He knew what it would take to brighten you back up again, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It'd be wrong no matter how he tried to spin it. The best thing he could do for you, was let you go. 

"Have a blessed day, Coach," you muttered sardonically before continuing your shopping. He sighed despondently before calling out your name, catching your attention. 

"What do you want, Negan!" you asked, tears burning in your eyes. You did not want to cry in front of the man again and he didn't want to be the reason you cried, not again. 

"Not pursuing this," he said motioning to him and you, "is what is best for you. I am not doing this to hurt you, and you know that." 

"That's not for you to decide! I am an adult who can make her own decisions and I want us to work," you argued, a lump forming in your throat making your next words difficult. You didn't know when you and him became an us, but calling it anything else would've been a lie and you both knew it. "Every minute away from you has been painful a-and I really miss you." The tears were falling now and you couldn't bear to look at the older man. You breathed shakily as you used your sleeves to wipe your tears as they left your eyes. Negan's hand clasped around your wrist, simultaneously pulling you closer to him and your arms away from your face. He held your face in his hands and swept your tears sway with his thumb. Negan's touch was comforting, but you didn't dare let your guard down around him. You couldn't handle him leaving again. 

"Doll, I-"

"If you're n-not gonna be serious about me, just let me go," you whispered, cutting him off. He looked at you with too many emotions swirling in his hazel eyes, rejection burning on the tip of his tongue. As if it were like you could feel it, you pulled away from him and stormed off, leaving him in the dust as you continued your shopping.

...

 The day of the church picnic arrived faster than you anticipated. After welcoming everyone to the picnic, you excused yourself and set up your own picnic blanket in an isolated area. You needed some alone time. Your mind was still reeling from that encounter you had with Negan the other day. Nauseous. That's how you felt. You were sick that you let Negan consume your thoughts like this. You cried about him before spring break, during spring break, and probably will after spring break. You hugged yourself as you bit back tears, grateful that you were far enough away from the others so they couldn't see. 

"There you are. Been lookin' for ya all over the goddamn place." Your head snapped in the direction of Negan's voice, your eyes meeting his as he stood over you, holding a plate. 

"Wha-? What are you doing here?" you asked, scooting up into a sitting position. He pulled out a pamphlet that was advertising the church's picnic and tossed it to you. 

"I wanted to come talk to ya since you wouldn't listen to me at the store," he explained. You stubbornly turned away from him, crossing your arms. You felt him sit beside you on your picnic blanket, but you still refused to face him. He slid the plate toward you, on it was a hotdog and some potato chips. 

" 'M not hungry," you lied, pushing the plate back to him. 

"Are you gonna fuckin' listen to me or should I just leave? Because I did not come all this way for your stubborn ass to ignore me." He was getting frustrated, which was obvious by the way he raised his voice, but he immediately regretted it when he heard you whimper and saw your shoulders shake. 

"W-what do you wanna say?" you choked out. Tears silently flowed down your face as you sniffled, choking back your sobs. 

"I shouldn't have kept leading you on like that, especially since you're so goddamn sensitive. So, I came to let you know that I'm done with that. I wanna make you happy, doll, I wanna spend time with you," he admitted. Your eyes widened. You didn't know of this was a dream or not. But when you felt his thumb swipe away your tears, you knew it was real. You tackled him into a hug, causing him to collide with the ground, taking you with him. 

"You better be a hundred percent sure this time," you mumbled into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, hugging you close. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at being in such an intimate position with him. He's hugged you before, but never like this. Instead of a teacher pitying his student, he was hugging you because he wanted to, not because he thought you needed it. The intimacy flustered him too. Feeling you on top of him was igniting every feeling he worked so hard to bury. But he was getting tired of burying those feelings. He saw the way his resistance was hurting you and seeing you hurt hurt him. 

"I am. I promise," he whispered into your ear. You held him tighter, not wanting to let him go, and it seemed like he didn't want to let you go either. But you were actually hungry, so you sat up and began eating the hotdog he got you. 

"Does this mean we can spend time together...outside of school?" you asked, batting the lashes of your doe eyes at him. 

"Of course, doll." The nickname, along with his promise of companionship, caused heat to blossom upon your face.  From a distance, you heard your father shouting your name. You looked at Negan longingly, not wanting to leave his side for fear he'd disappear, but he nodded his head toward your parents, giving you the go ahead and a silent promise that he'll still be here.

"Yes, dad?" you asked after trudging your way through the grass over to him and your mom.

"Ah, there he is!" he said, looking past you and at Negan who you didn't know followed you. You looked at Negan, confused, but he just smirked at you.

"Mr. Smith, my wife and I just wanted to thank you for bringing our daughter home last Friday," your father said gratefully. 

"Oh yes, our daughter talks highly of you. Says you make school that much better for her," your mom chimed in. 

"It's no problem," Negan replied. 

"Why don't you pop on by for dinner tonight? We'd love to show you our appreciation." Your face was flaming at the possibility of Negan being in your house. Butterflies flapped around furiously in your tummy at the thought of him seeing your bedroom. He must've noticed how antsy you were, because he smirked at you before he quickly accepted the offer. 

"That is very kind of you all. I'll be there." 

next part ▶︎

[honeycreammilkshake]

as both a sukuita and sukuna fan, chapter 268 killed me. at first i thought it was because we finally got another really intimate and highly emotional scene between sukuna and yuuji, and that sukuna chose to die over accepting yuuji's kindness, but now i can't stop thinking about how this entire chapter was such a good character study and a metaphor for one of the most important themes in the story.

in chapter 21, there's a really interesting conversation between junpei and mahito, where junpei disagrees with the quote "the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference." he knows how evil people can be so he chooses to feel indifferent about human suffering instead. mahito's view on this is also really intriguing, especially considering how he is a curse born from the hate people share for each other.

i could be wrong but it sounds like the basic message here is that deadening yourself to such intense feelings — love or hate — is a type of retaliation for being hurt or consumed by them. which makes me wonder if sukuna had a similar story to junpei, and if that explains how he became what he is.

we know that sukuna wasn't wanted as a child. he was more than likely rejected by both normal society and the jujutsu world. like junpei he was probably treated cruelly or strongly made aware of the many people who hated him. sukuna claimed to know what love is, but i think what he actually understood was the absence of love. he understood maybe what it means to others, but he had never felt or experienced it himself.

which brings me back to junpei's idea that indifference should be the solution. this is kind of the same philosophy sukuna has: he believes in this unshakable hierarchy of strength where the weak should have no right to lament their suffering. his idea was that the strongest were indifferent to suffering, that it's greedy to be lonely because of this. he calls it his "nature" to live in this self-indulgent way that is completely uncaring and selfish.

but then there's yuuji.

yuuji has been alone for a lot of his life. at the beginning, he doesn't have any really close friends, since even the other occult club members don't know him all that well. his only family was wasuke, who was difficult and pushed people away, including yuuji.

after his grandfather's death, he wanted to do right and fulfill wasuke's request of helping people, to be able to die surrounded by those he cares about. he pretty much gave his life to help other people by accepting responsibility as sukuna's vessel, and shows concern and kindness even to strangers.

he seems the exact opposite of sukuna and he stands for all the things that the king of curses hates... so why is it that someone sukuna considers so weak has so much power over him?

the only one who's really managed to make sukuna rethink his ideas of the world has been yuuji. even sukuna acknowledged that he was affected more by yuuji than anyone else.

to him, those who challenged him 1000 years ago were "other people." his relationship with yuuji was and always has been so special that even he admits it.

sukuna mostly strived for indifference his entire life. consuming so many humans was merely a way for him to pass the time until death, as he said, and those tastes were passing and unmemorable for the most part. everything was so unfeeling about the way he made his philosophy sound during his conversation with kashimo, and he couldn't answer as to why he would decide to cross the ages into modern life if his life before had been truly satisfactory. it's like he wasn't even moved to support his own ideals.

but here yuuji is... an annoying brat he called weak and boring, yet every time they fought sukuna looked thrilled and even impressed, though he resented it. and every time yuuji challenged him, sukuna was bothered enough to challenge him right back.

"the opposite of love is indifference." if this is true, sukuna was most likely forced into his indifference due to the fact he was never wanted or loved. but yuuji awakened so many feelings inside of him, too many. living as sukuna's vessel, they shared such a close connection while still opposing each other in every single way. yuuji represented the intense feelings of both love and hate in the way he fought so hard for others while sukuna's own indifference started to break the longer he spent inside of yuuji. he was far more reactive to yuuji than with others, and had even given him special treatment. there were many times he could have killed yuuji or his friends, but he didn't.

yuuji has made it clear that he hates sukuna's indifference to the value of people's lives.

sukuna's indifference towards life is against everything yuuji believes in but strangely enough, yuuji was still willing to accept sukuna. to not only pity him, but to have genuine empathy and compassion for such a monster as well.

he even says to sukuna that they are the same, despite seeming to be complete opposites of each other.

to me, yuuji saying that the monster sukuna became was a matter of chance, shows that he understands how indifference cut sukuna off from having a different fate.

there is a vast area of shades between love and hate, unlike the overwhelmingly static state of indifference. yuuji was showing those shades of love and hate to sukuna, telling him that they could live in the mixed shades of both.

and i really wished sukuna chose to coexist with both that love and hate and remain with yuuji. but he was too used to being indifferent and rejected that offer.

i'm really hoping we get to see yuuji's thoughts on this in the next few chapters, because he looked truly disappointed by sukuna's rejection.

[post-punk-revival]

Nonhumans of Minority Cultures

[Plain text: Nonhumans of Minority Cultures]

Hi, I'm Jewish and not human. This isn't about the intersection; actually, this is about the disconnect. It's a struggle I have to express my place in the alterhuman community while maintaining a belonging to something inherently human. A majority of the community are white, culturally Christian Americans; this isn't a revelation, obviously, but for a lot of people, it isn't noticeable, and it's only significant when it's pointed out. But for everyone else it's impossible to ignore. That's just the community.

Especially among zoanthropes and physical nonhumans, the point of view from which I am writing this, there is a point of pride in embracing nonhumanity that seems to come from also rejecting humanity. I don't blame anyone for this, to be clear. I understand where it comes from, and why; I do myself in so many contexts. One has to make it clear, existing as they are in a role that doesn't actually represent them, that they are not a part of it. Similarly, transitioning often has people feeling a requirement or finding euphoria and safety in pushing back against their assigned gender as hard as they strive to be seen as their actual one. If you feel dysphoria sticking with the gendered spaces and activities you once did, you're more likely to push back by refusing to be associated with them at all than return to them.

In a community that is majority white, culturally Christian Americans, culture and ethnicity are not actually a primary concern. We do not feel a connection to the human-facing side of our family; we do not find kinship in communities of humans; we do not seek belonging in cultures and traditions that are so heavily steeped in humanity, let alone find it. Our human "family" is not our true family. Our human surroundings are wrong. The hometown ethos you were raised with, the church your parents took you to on Sundays, the grating Christmas family dinner; you reject these things because they are painful to you and they are painful to you because they are something that sees you as the wrong thing and drags you back anyway.

Those things are your equivalent of things I never got to have—that were taken from me.

I'm coming at this from the perspective of not only an ethnic minority, but an individual who is still experiencing the consequences of assimilation. I wasn't raised as a white, culturally Christian American, but I wasn't raised Jewish either; I was pinned in-between by all the people in my life both before and after I was born who strove for whiteness and saw extraneous identity as something to be amputated. My Jewishness is essential to me. Not just because, obviously, I'm Jewish, but because I spent the majority of my upbringing so locked out of it—by design—that I wouldn't have even called myself Jewish until I was 19.

It shouldn't feel like there's something at odds when I feel equal amounts of belonging in nonhuman communities and human Jewish communities. It shouldn't feel like I have to change outfits from one to the other any time I seek it out, or like I have a foot in one world and a talon in the other. I don't. I do not reject my heritage, I just seek understanding in a community that defaults to do it for me. My human "family" are some of the only people I know who understand certain things about my life, even the ones who barely know me. My human surroundings are oftentimes a room full of spirited compassion in a hostile world, and my nonhuman surroundings are sometimes just as antisemitic as any human goy has the potential to be.

My alterhumanity is not the most important thing in my life.

I do not shed my nonhumanity every time I put the Jewishness back on. I do not diffuse my Jewishness every time I re-enter nonhumanity. The energy I felt during the songs in last year's Passover seder was just as raw and real as the energy I felt indulging in the inner bird of prey at the peak of a mountain. I have known folks in the alterhuman community who don't seem to understand this. To them, the animal is the real part, and the communities they go to in their human-facing lives are the concessions they make to not be able to truly live as they are. That is because they have little else they have to fight to keep. Their animal nature is what's under threat in their daily lives, the identity that the people around them try to deny. Their Protestant upbringing is what they endeavor to abandon, the identity that the people around them try to bar escape from. My Jewishness is not a trap for me. I have had to stand my ground so many times just to not let people water it down until it's emulsified to their comfort level. This is important: we do not live in a world that would prefer a human Jew or POC to a nonhuman white goy. It's really important to me that more people internalize this. We are all being whittled down. "Being crammed into a box I don't fit" for me isn't just about a human-shaped box, it's a WASP-shaped box too. It's both. It's kind of a struggle to encounter that human-shaped box so often around other Jews and finally get out of it only to be crammed into the WASP-shaped one by other nonhumans. Only a nonhuman Jew-shaped box is going to accommodate me, not one or the other, and to be honest, if asked to choose between every time, it is not always going to be the nonhuman box.

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Everyone Who Bashed Belle As Being A Stockholm Syndrome Victim Should Apologize, When Blitzo Has Shown What A True Victim Is Like

You know for decades Belle was joked as being a victim of stockholm syndrome even though there are many points against that perception. But it's funny that ironically we have a better representation in Blitzo, but those same critics say it's cute that he's basically now his abuser's cheerleader. Seriously, this is the face of a guy who has become conditioned to just be a doormat for a spoiled pos who he previously called out for treating him as lesser. Belle always stood up for herself and didn't let the Beast mistreat her. And she blatantly ranaway when she felt threatened. It's obvious she was not going to be mistreated by someone and that the Beast had to prove he was good enough for her.

And here comes Beast and Stolas, because they are essentially both spoiled brats who need to change in order to be with their love interest. The difference between Beast and Stolas is that the narrative knows the former is flawed and needs to changed while the latter is treated like as if he's a saint that has done nothing wrong. As a result, you see one who gradually changes over time while the other stays the same and is now coddled for it. With Beast and Stolas, they also make grand gestures to show their love. Beast does it because he's showing he's growing to care and even one gesture was risking himself being cursed because he understood that Belle's needs were more than his. However, Stolas does all these grand gestures not as a way to truly atone but a way to finally be with Blitzo because he wants him to fill the empty void in his life. As a result, all of these so-called nice deeds come off as hollow because they come off as a person who is doing this to look good rather than actually be good.

The worst part is that Stolas when he's rejected by Blitzo is coddled for feeling he's entitled to have his feelings returned when he hasn't earned it. Beast, however, even as he's changed make it known that he needs to do selfless stuff not only to break the curse but to truly know what it is to care for another. However, with Stolas it's always about how he feels and how he should be rewarded for doing not even the bare minimum to prove himself. To be frank about Beast, the movie in little detail gives tons of demonstration it's not just the grand gestures but the little things life that made his and Belle's relationship grow. Beast treats her as a person and not an ideal or trophy to have like Gastor (or Stolas if anyone was truthful). He gets to know her and really understands her. However, Stolas just is hooked on his fantasies to the point even the series is enabling him to hold onto them even when all it has done is strip him of everything he's held dear (including his daughter who he's neglected to chase his imp play thing).

I think the biggest thing about what makes Blitzo the true stockholm syndrome is the fact he's not himself anymore with Stolas. And people say that's character change, but he never should have changed for Stolas because Stolas is actually the one who should have done that not him. I don't care what "Apology Tour" says Stolas is not like any of his exes, because he was the one who screwed him over and treated him like shit. The major point is that Belle didn't need to change anything about herself and that she remains a static character who allows the Beast to demonstrate himself as worthy of her love. Stolas as said before does one grand gesture after another, but in the end he still remains in everyday life shitty to Blitzo but now he just tolerates him because he got bit by the red string of fate that makes him bend over for the creator's pet. And everyone knows for sure he's going to pull more shitty stuff in season 3 and get away with it. For this I will have to say that Belle needs to be apologized for being the poster girl for stockholm syndrome and give it to the rightful owner who is Blitzo.

[legendoftherisingtide]

[intro]

Bakugou is a prideful, arrogant person. He holds himself to the highest standard; he is the best and everyone else is simply below him. Everything he has ever done was in pursuit of being number one, shining above the rest. He has to have a perfect victory, he has to be a perfect student, he has to win to save.

He pushes and pushes and won’t let anyone see his weaknesses or his insecurities. He can never lose, he can never fail, he can never show that he regrets or hesitates or that he hasn’t thought everything through. He must never be vulnerable in every sense of the word.

Then why is he standing in the rain.

To apologize shouldn’t be a sacrifice, but it is for Bakugou. To pour his feelings, to admit his wrong, to let down all of the walls he has built and be vulnerable. And in front of his whole class.

He is willing to sacrifice his pride, to fully sacrifice any superiority he could have, to bare his soul and even risk rejection. Because he knows Midoriya is more important. Because he wants him to come home, he wants him to know his true feelings, because he wants things to change. 

Because Midoriya has changed him. Midoriya has opened his eyes; by showing him he’s allowed to be open, that his feelings should be expressed, that he has so much to learn, and so much of that was learned through Midoriya just existing.

He isn’t sacrificing his safety frivolously because he’s expected to as a hero; he is doing it because he has grown. He is doing it because he has finally admitted to himself that he wants Midoriya to be with him and safe.

So I will sacrifice this for you. Not because it will change anything, as much as I want that I know that I can’t just fix all the wrong with just this. And I am willing to do as much as it takes to earn your forgiveness. But I don’t need that from you, not now and not ever if you don’t want that, I just need you to rest. I did so much wrong. And I am sorry for everything. You don’t have to do this alone. Lean on us. You are so strong and being supported doesn’t discount that. You’ve taught me that. 

I hate the rain. But I will brave it for you. 

He would do everything in his power, admit so many things, just to get Midoriya to take care of himself. We see him being the most vulnerable he has ever been in front of people that aren’t Midoriya. He does so much completely out of character, all in pursuit of being there for Midoriya. 

For Izuku.

He finally gets over himself and finally tells Midoriya the feelings he has felt for so long.

He lets go of this idea he is inherently better and finally acknowledges that his hatred for Midoriya has always been about his own shortcomings and insecurities. But he still wants to be better, they are still rivals. He isn’t going to sacrifice that part of him because that is just who he is; he is still going to push to number one.

But now it’s different.

There is verbal and vocal acceptance and respect. Before it was unspoken; their relationship had changed ever since Ground Beta. They were proper rivals, with mutual respect and care, they were actively making each other better.

But Bakugo finally verbalizes it and tells Midoriya, not only is he sorry, but he wants to actually have a proper friendship; he wants to continue to become better and earn his forgiveness. He wants them to push each other to be better, he wants to continue to fight for the top spot, he still wants to be the best.

But when did it become something else? 

When was the turning point when it started to shift from wanting to surpass Midoriya and be the best, to wanting to keep up with Midoriya and stay by his side?

Bakugou has already sacrificed himself for Midoriya before. His body moved on its own; with no hesitation, he would save Midoriya. He has already risked his life for him. But there is a layer to it that I don’t think people talk about. 

He tells Midoriya he shouldn’t try to win this on his own. 

He disguises his concern with an insistence that he’s in it to fight for himself when he initially joins the battle. But it is to fight by Midoriya’s side and support him.

But taking the hit for Midoriya, jumping in the way isn’t just support. This is sacrifice. This is giving yourself to ensure the safety of someone. And it was second nature. 

There are two reasons and both are a sacrifice of something in the moment.

It is knowing someone is so valuable, so great, in all senses of the word, that they must be protected. Bakugou is sacrificing his body and admitting that Midoriya needs to stay alive, for personal reasons and/or for the world. He needs Midoriya to be okay, Midoriya can’t fight alone and Bakugou will do anything to make sure he will be okay. 

But the sacrifice of ideology. 

With every development, he has relinquished parts of himself. When he sacrifices himself he is not only sacrificing his body but is admitting that he can’t do this on his own; he needs Midoriya too. This isn’t him wanting to be better than Midoriya, it’s him wanting to do it together.

Midoriya changed him.

He doesn’t die for Midoriya. He wakes up and just as his last thought was Midoriya, so was his first as he woke up. He runs to his side. People are dragging him back, trying to have him rest, knowing before he even said anything that he would lose his mind over Midoriya’s situation. 

Everyone sees how Bakugou feels about Midoriya.

He sacrifices himself because Midoriya can not die on him. Midoriya has to stay alive. Midoriya has to keep fighting. 

There can not be a world that doesn’t have him in it.

This is the culmination of what has been developing ever since the final exam where Bakugou finally works with Midoriya; the day that win to save, save to win was noticed. Then furthered after Ground Beta where they finally talked to each other and something changed within them both.

But the final sacrifice is the culmination of Bakugou’s character.

He knows what this decision will mean. Everyone screams for him not to. He knows that he is going to die. He knows he will not win this fight.

This isn’t dying for the cause. This isn’t just a hero complex. This is because he can help Midoriya and he will. This is for Izuku.

I will sacrifice myself for you. To give you more time, to give you even the slightest chance of winning. I will sacrifice myself for you because you are who can win. I am going to die. I am going to die and in my final thoughts, I will ask if I will still be able to be by your side.

It is no longer can I beat you. It is no longer can I surpass you. It is can I still catch up to you. It is can I still even be equal to you. He has already sacrificed the idea that he could beat Midoriya, that isn’t what he wants anymore. What he wants is to stay here with him.

I will sacrifice everything I am. I have wanted to be the best. All my life I have wanted to surpass you and everyone around me. But you. I will let that go for you. I let it go in my mind for so long now and I have never wanted to admit it. Is it even possible? Is it even possible for me to catch up to you? Is it even possible for me to stay by your side. I can’t be that anymore. I am sacrificing even that now. I will never be number one now. I will never become the person I always dreamed to be. I will never surpass you. I am forever sacrificing that now. I will die here.  

But can I still be with you?

The sacrifice of his life is him fully relinquishing everything he is, admitting that he can’t keep up, losing all of the progress he has made, letting go of everything that made up his character.

And the last thing on his mind is if he can still be able to be by Midoriya’s side.

He won’t let him go again. 

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | mature | 2k | tags: established relationship, post-s4, Valentine's Day, Robin is the best, fluff | summary: Steve loves Eddie, he really, really does. He just can't say it. | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is just a four-letter word by @sal-si-puedes | AO3)

"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.

"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.

Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.

"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."

Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.

"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".

They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.

With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.

After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.

That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.

As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"

Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.

"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."

"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"

"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.

"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"

They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.

His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.

It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.

He still does.

So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.

He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.

Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"

That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.

Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."

Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.

"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.

"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.

They don't let go for a long time.

It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.

So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.

"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."

Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"

Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."

"Oh."

It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.

"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."

Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.

"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."

Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"

"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."

Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.

"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."

And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.

Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.

"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"

Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.

"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.

Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.

"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.

Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.

He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.

[ramblings-of-lola]

As a religious person, I want to acknowledge the wonderful way Leigh Bardugo writes religious characters like Inej and Matthias.

I relate to Inej and Matthias because Leigh Bardugo wrote their faith as the center of their lives that realistically influenced their world view. I felt seen because aspects of faith and my personal journey with religion were shown their stories.

For Matthias, his faith changed based on his experiences with the Crows. He realized that the rigid and bigoted ideas he had about Grisha were wrong. Why did he think this? Because a powerful man, who was his mentor, brainwashed that into him. But once he got to know Nina and the others, he realized this dehumanizing view of Grisha was wrong. He then did not reject his faith entirely; his view of it changed. This reflected my experience. I was told I had to have these wrong beliefs in order to please God and I slowly realized that was not true after years of having so many strict rules drilled into my head.

For Inej, her faith in the Saints is something that she holds close to her. Despite all of the horrible things that have happened to her, she has faith that the Saints are watching over her. She does struggle with the idea that the things she has done to survive go against her faith and will upset the Saints. This is something I have to remind myself, that no matter what I do or what I am going through, God will not abandon me.

I love having characters in fantasy that I can relate a huge part of my identity to, it means so much to me.

[pratically-imperfect]

Caitlyn is so messy and complex of a character, and while her original goals were paved in good intentions, she's ultimately turned her back on it unwittingly. The grief, trauma, stress, and the weight of her name and new posts, it's all adding up. All while everyone around her on the topside slowly turns their backs to her previous convictions. So, in her anger - her agonizing RAGE - she turned on the last person who could keep her accountable, who held her beliefs. Because not only did Vi endorse taking the shot, make it clear, but she ended up preventing her from it. And Caitlyn...I 100% believe SHE believed she wouldn't have missed. But I also believe that, had she taken it, she would have. She lost what she's shooting for. It would be naive to think that, in a chaotic situation such as that, that she could thread the needle...and at what cost? If they weren't killed, they would have been deeply traumatized. Continuing a cycle.

All while at home, surrounded by people who bow to her, she's constantly having her original morals tested and questioned. And now she's got Ambessa in her ear, weaponizing all the vulnerabilities she's accumulated from: Being made to confront her privilege and prejudice, to being kidnapped, made a hostage, watched Jinx explode the tower and killed her mom, a terrorist attack at a MEMORIAL from the people she'd been wanting to help (turning this from Jinx being the solo scapegoat of her past prejudice, to being an act of the people of Zaun as well), and so many little things that just add up.

She lashes out, at the height of her distress - not necessarily in malice as that implies a true intent, this felt feral to me (and that FLASH of regret at the end of that stare, before she turns...) - because frankly she isn't thinking anymore. She isn't rational, and her actions are reactional. Her emotions are raw, overwhelming, and she feels like she's alone, and also like she needs to protect herself.

This of course doesn't excuse her behaviour. She said regrettably discriminatory things about the people of Zaun in her quest for blame and revenge. Of course she chose to rise to Ambessa's 'request.' And she rejected Vi both verbally and physically after making some very harmful, manipulative sounding statements to her. Caitlyn IS in the wrong. However what this does is explain things. Humans are complex and the world is PAVED in shades of grey. Our personalities change over time, we act differently with different people. The nicest people can still do bad things, just because their perspective makes it seem good. The evilest of people can, much in the same way, do good things but have bad ulterior motives.

There is so much going on than just this, or just that. There is more to this conversation than being apologetic only to Vi OR Caitlyn. They're both victims, they've both done bad, and they have both made mistakes, and neither of them are wholly GOOD or BAD.

We can laugh and say we support woman's wrongs, and continue to love and support our favourite girls, but it's important to look at the wider context, and that there's more to it all.

I think it's this messy complexity that makes us love them, and it's also what will make the payoff so much more sweet when the time comes...if it comes. I can hope.

[honeyfarts666]

A Party Most Vile

Lucius Verus x OFC

Mutual non-con, Slavery, Breeding, Angst, Aftercare, Shame (please check out all the tags listed on Ao3 for full content warning)

Part 1 on Ao3 or tumblr New! Part 2 on Ao3 or under the cut ↓

Excerpt: “I am giving you this lovely, young thing,” Macrinus said slowly, “and you reject my gift. Is there something wrong with her, I don’t know about?”

Lucius shook his head. “No!” he shouted a bit too emphatically. It took a surprising amount of restraint for Lucius to resist rushing forward and tackling Macrinus. He was amazed by the fierce protectiveness he felt for Naevia. She was not bound to him and she was not his responsibility. But she had caught Macrinus’s notice because of him. He could not let anyone else get caught up in the mess of his revenge.

@okyeeaaahhhh @writersrash @buttermilktea11 Thank you guys so much for commenting on the last one!! I hope you enjoy!!

Lucius gritted his teeth as he was escorted down the hall to Macrinus’s chamber. He had been taken directly from practice, and his bare chest glistened with sweat. He was certain he stank terribly, but he disliked his master, so there was some small satisfaction to be had. Yet, the meeting loomed large in his mind. It was their first since the disgusting party he had been forced to perform at. Macrinus’s displeasure at his behavior had been obvious. Lucius prayed that this meeting would be about something else. Even a conversation about his true identity would be more welcome than reliving that nightmare.

Macrinus was at his writing desk when the guards brought Lucius in. “Leave us,” Macrinus ordered with a wave of his hand. The guards silently left them and the door was shut. Macrinus sat back in his chair and appraised Lucius as he had many times before. Sunshine streamed though the window behind him, illuminating him like a deity from some distant land. Silence sang between them. Perhaps Macrinus hoped Lucius would crack and finally speak freely. If so, Macrinus would have to try harder.

Finally, after a long moment, Macrinus said, “The slave girl at the party…”

Lucius’s heart dropped into his stomach. There went all his hopes of a short, easy conversation. Macrinus wanted something. And he wasn’t a man accustomed to being denied his desires. Lucius straightened his back and replied, “What of her?”

Macrinus stood and walked around his desk to stand a few paces in front of Lucius. He repressed a smile as he asked, “Did you know her before the party?”

Lucius furrowed his brow. He hadn’t expected that. “No,” he answered swiftly, “I had never seen her before that day.”

Macrinus raised one brow. “Really?” he asked incredulously. 

“Yes,” Lucius firmly answered. He didn’t understand what Macrinus was getting at, but the last thing he wanted was for Naevia to get in trouble because of him. Because he said something stupid or thoughtless. But it was the truth. He didn’t know her at all.

Macrinus leaned in slowly and asked, “Then why did you run away with her? Help me understand that, Lucius.”

Lucius stared into his master’s gleaming eyes. How could he possibly answer in a way that this savage man would understand? Certainly not the truth! The truth that, after the shame of fucking the girl in front of a crowd, all he wanted was to be alone with her. To get away from the staring eyes and cruel sneers. To touch her tenderly and let her know that he wasn’t a beast. That he hadn’t wanted any of it. 

Lucius shook his head and glanced up at Macrinus’s waiting face. He grimaced and gave the best answer he could think of, “She looks like my wife.”

Macrinus’s expression softened. “Your wife, she died during Acacius’s invasion?”

Lucius nodded in reply. 

Macrinus looked into Lucius’s face, studying him intently. Lucius tried to ignore it. He tried focusing on the floor, on the desk, the chair. But it was no use. Macrinus crowded his space, and Lucius was forced to look the older man in the eye. Suddenly, almost as an afterthought, Macrinus muttered, “You have the look of your grand-sire.” For the second time in as many minutes, Lucius was surprised. Macrinus smiled and took a step back to pick up his cup from the desk. “Although, that is to be expected when he is your grand-sire twice over,” Macrinus chuckled before taking a sip of wine.

Lucius gave Macrinus a darting look. “Twice over?” he asked cautiously.

“Ah!” Macrinus gave him a playfully pleased smile and leaned against the desk, “So, the rumors are true!”

“I don’t know what rumors you speak of,” Lucius replied, his features settling into a deep frown. 

Macrinus chuckled to himself and then spoke with a wicked gleam of spite in his eye, “That Commodus was your true sire.”

Lucius couldn’t restrain the scoff that fell from his lips. Of course, Macrinus would believe the worst tales he heard! The most vile rumors spread the fastest. But it was actually a relief to hear. If Macrinus believed that Commodus was his father, then he hadn’t overheard any of the conversation Lucius had with Lucilla. Macrinus knew nothing of the coup that Lucilla and Acacius were brewing. Nor the revelation of Lucius’s true father. Lucius had many complicated feelings about his mother. But he sent a silent prayer of thanks to all the gods he knew. She would be safe, as would her secrets.

Macrinus inclined his head towards Lucius. “Oh, come now!” he teased, “Tell me the truth!”

Lucius let out a short laugh and said, “I cannot tell you. I wasn’t there when it happened!”

Macrinus let out a boisterous laugh and said, “True, indeed! But you must know?”

Lucius gritted his teeth but stayed still. He didn’t trust himself. He knew his temper. And he was growing tired of Macrinus’s prying. He didn’t care what anyone believed about him! The whole world could believe he was an inbred bastard and he wouldn’t bat an eye. Let the vermin think whatever suits them. Lucius lifted his chin and said, “The only father I have ever known, was the man for who I was named.”

Macrinus let out a disappointed hum. He tapped his hand on the table and took another sip of his wine. Another unsettling smile crossed his face as he swept his hand toward the door. “I have a gift for you.”

Lucius didn’t think the sudden change of subject could be a good sign. And he certainly didn’t want anything from Macrinus. Even supposed gifts came with their price. 

Just then, a servant opened the door to the study and held it open for another to enter. Lucius’s eyes dilated and every last whips of air left his lungs as he saw her: Naevia. She looked much the same as she had upon their first meeting. She wore the simple garments of a slave and left her hair loose around her. As her eyes landed on his, he saw her take a shuddering breath. Clearly, she hadn’t expected to see him either. Lucius tried to remain composed. He tried to hide the tidal wave of emotion that ripped through him. But it was impossible. He felt his jaw twitch horribly before he managed to snap his mouth shut. Had Macrinus bought her? Or had she been his slave the whole time?

Once Naevia was inside, the servant left and shut the door behind him. Naevia jumped slightly at the harsh sound of heavy timber against metal. 

Macrinus gave Lucius a long glance and then burst into roarious laughter. Only at that terrible sound was Lucius finally able to tear his eyes from Naevia. Macrinus, still grinning broadly, said, “I have never seen a man look so bleak after being given a woman!”

Lucius didn’t dare look at Naevia again, even though he wanted to. He wanted to reassure her. But Macrinus would use anything he observed to his advantage. He had to show him that he didn’t care about her. “I have no need for her,” he announced in what he hoped was a steady voice. “You can put her back wherever she came from.”

The smile faded from Macrinus’s face. For the first time, he seemed annoyed. He set down his cup and approached Naevia. He ran his fingers through her hair and tugged on a curl. She repressed a shiver and held still. She was clearly afraid. Lucius could see it even before she looked up at him with her huge, brown eyes. “I am giving you this lovely, young thing,” Macrinus said slowly, “and you reject my gift. Is there something wrong with her, I don’t know about?”

Lucius shook his head. “No!” he shouted a bit too emphatically. It took a surprising amount of restraint for Lucius to resist rushing forward and tackling Macrinus. He was amazed by the fierce protectiveness he felt for Naevia. She was not bound to him and she was not his responsibility. But she had caught Macrinus’s notice because of him. He could not let anyone else get caught up in the mess of his revenge. 

Macrinus let go of Naevia’s hair, and she and Lucius breathed a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived. Macrinus crossed the room to stand in front of Lucius. “Give me a reason why?” he asked with evident impatience. 

Lucius was confident Macrinus had never experienced anything like the love that he and Arishat had shared. Nor anything as simple as the connection that had formed between him and Naevia. Macrinus would never understand. He was incapable! But Lucius had no other answer. So he spoke truthfully, “I have no desire for any except my wife.”

Naevia trembled at his confession. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her quiver and wrap her arms around her body. But there was little time for Lucius to notice it. Macrinus slammed his fist on his desk and shouted, “Your wife is dead!” Rage flashed through his features like a wildfire. But he quickly regained his composure. He breathed deeply and ran a steadying hand over his beard. As quickly as it had arrived, the rage left and the mask fell back into place. “In truth, I should have expected this from you,” he mused softly. After a moment of deathly silence, Macrinus turned back to Lucius. “Very well,” he said with a sudden confidence, “Since you will not take her as a gift, you’ll take her as a punishment.”

A deep dread pooled in Lucius’s stomach. He could guess Macrinus’s meaning, but he dared not even think it to himself. Macrinus gestured to a bright rug on the floor and said, “Lay her down there and fuck her.”

Lucius couldn’t restrain himself anymore. He could not play the part of the obedient slave. Not when his master was so needlessly cruel and foul. He let out a heavy sigh and said, “No.”

Macrinus cocked his head to one side. “You forget yourself, Hanno,” he mused with a barely perceptible fury. “You are not a soldier. You are not a free man. You are my property. My possession. I speak and you obey.”

Lucius gave his master a bitter smile. He had reached his limit. And he would bear no more. “No,” Lucius uttered again.

With a fluid motion, Macrinus pulled a dagger from somewhere in his robes. Lucius readied himself for a fight, but Macrinus didn’t approach him. Too late, Lucius realized that Macrinus reached for Naevia. Lucius started forward but froze as the point of the blade came to rest on Naevia’s throat. Macrinus used his other hand to wrap around her waist and hold her secure. In a steady voice, Macrinus said, “If you don’t want her, I’ll give her to my guards downstairs. I’m sure they would greatly enjoy a ripe, young thing such as her.” 

Naevia repressed a gasp and Lucius made a great effort not to look at her. He could feel every muscle in his body tightening with every passing second as he glared at Macrinus. The worst part was that he couldn’t understand why Macrinus went through such pains to torture him in such a twisted way. “Why?” he asked with bitter despair, “What do you gain from this?”

Lucius expected Macrinus to reply with a shout and a retort. Something to put him back in his place. Something that would remind him he was a slave now. But no such reply came. Instead, Macrinus gave him that twisted smile again. “It’s not what I gain,” he replied coyly, “But what you gain.” After a breath of anticipation, he continued, “An heir.” 

Lucius’s heart nearly stopped beating. He and Arishat had never considered having children. She always drank a special tea that prevented her from conceiving. Neither of them desired to bring a child into the world when the threat of war loomed so great. His feelings on the matter certainly hadn’t changed since losing his freedom. A child would mean only more pain and heartache. A child would only be a chain for Macrinus to bind him with. 

Before Lucius could formulate a response, Macrinus pulled his blade away from Naevia’s neck. “Undress,” he commanded her. With a shaking hand, Naevia unfastened the ties of her robe and let the long garment fall to the floor. Her body was just as lovely as Lucius remembered. Without another word, Marcinus pushed Naevia forward, into Lucius’s arms. He caught her against his chest, and he finally felt like he could breathe. His mind knew that she was anything but safe. But he couldn’t help but feel relief. Naevia’s whole body was tense and she gripped onto Lucius’s arms for dear life. He ran his hand over her back, trying to comfort her. 

“The rug, now!” Macrinus ordered. Lucius glared up at him. Macrinus gave no other response. He only twirled the dagger, with the point on the edge of the desk. It was a casually calculated image. A threat hanging in the air, ready to be made real at any moment. Numbly, Lucius walked to the rug, taking Naevia with him. She didn’t resist, but he felt her shudder in dread. He couldn’t imagine how frightened she must be. If anything, his fate would be easy. He would likely die in the arena soon. But she would be forced to live and bear a child, his child. 

At the rug, he let go of Naevia to free the ties of his britches and drop them to the floor. Unlike at the party, the simple sight of Naevia’s nude body wasn’t enough to make him aroused. He glanced around for oil to help ease his way but saw nothing that could help him. Macrinus rounded his desk to sit in his chair and said, “Naevia.” She startled to attention and tightly clasped her arms to cover her breasts before turning to their master. Macrinus continued, “Get on your knees and help Hanno get ready.”

Naevia took a sharp breath before she nodded. Slowly, she sank down onto her knees. Lucius’s eyes followed her as she lowered down. He couldn’t deny the sight of her in such a submissive position was beautiful. He felt his cock starting to grow stiff just looking at her on her knees in front of him. His stomach twisted in disgust at the idea that he could enjoy this. And he regretted that he had not been allowed to bathe before the meeting. Everything about him must repulse her. But then he felt her soft mouth on him, and all the blood in his body rushed into his cock. She gripped his base in her hand and bobbed her mouth over his tip. Sucking him and then swirling her tongue over him in turn. Lucius swallowed dryly. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see Macrinus staring at him from across the room. His tight jaw relaxed just enough for his lips to part and a soft groan to leave his lips. Naevia seemed encouraged by the sound and took more of his length into her mouth. Lucius groaned again, louder this time. He ran his fingers though her hair and looked down at her as she took as much of his cock as she could. Unconsciously, he began to rock his hips into her.

“That’s enough!” Macrinus shouted, stopping them in their tracks. Lucius took a heavy breath as Naevia pulled her mouth off of him. He was fully erect and the top half of his cock glistened with Naevia’s spit. He caught her eye then. She was so beautiful on her knees. Spit dribbled down her lips and her eyes were wet from the effort of taking him. She gazed at him with a mixture of fear and arousal. “Go on!” Macrinus shouted from his desk. Naevia was the one who broke their gaze. She turned around on her knees so she faced away from Lucius. Then, she bowed forward, keeping her head down and putting her ass up high with her legs spread. Her pussy was on full display to him and he saw her lower lips glisten with her wetness. A ridiculous sort of pride filled Lucius’s chest. He knew it was childish, but the thought of her growing wet from having his cock in her mouth made him harder than he ever had been in his life. 

He knelt down between her spread legs and readied to plow her. He notched his cock to her entrance and he felt a delicious shiver run through her body. He pushed in the head of his cock and a gentle moan fell from Naevia’s lips. He found a guilty satisfaction in her anticipation. The whole ordeal would have been so much worse if she resisted him. But to feel her arousal as he entered her was more than he could have asked of her.

Before he could sink into her further, Macrinus interrupted them and asked, “Don’t you want to see her face while you take her?” Lucius couldn’t help it, even though he knew it was a bad idea, his eyes shot to Macrinus’s expression of feigned curiosity. “Or,” he continued, with their gaze locked, “is it easier to pretend she’s your wife when you can’t see her face?”

Lucius felt his face twist in rage. But he also felt Naevia tremble under him. Macrinus was intent on driving this knife as deep as possible. Making sure that Naevia overheard talk of his wife. Calling out Lucius’s disassociation. It was all part of Macrinus’s plan, whatever that was. The last time he had fucked her, Lucius had been afraid to look at Naevia. Not because it was easier to imagine Arishat, but because it was easier to imagine none of it was happening. But now, Naevia would believe she was nothing to him. That she was just a warm cunt he could fill and toss aside. He couldn’t live with that. With a great effort, he tore his eyes away from Macrinus’s smirk and turned back to Naevia. He pulled his tip out of her core, and a trail of her wetness drew out between them. 

Lucius put his hands on Naevia’s hips and encouraged her to turn. She flipped onto her back but kept her legs spread for him. Her pink folds glistening with her arousal. If they had been alone, he would have leaned into her ear and told her what a good girl she was as he filled her. But they weren’t alone. Instead, Lucius took in the sight of her silently. Her breasts shuddered with each frightened breath. Her hair was splayed out around her like a dark halo. And her eyes were on his. Her gaze never left him. It was as though the rest of the world faded away and they were the only two beings in all existence. Slowly, he crawled on top of her and loomed over her slight frame. He had been so afraid she would be repulsed by him. He wouldn’t have blamed her. Not after what he did to her. But she opened herself willingly and moaned as his cock brushed against her bud. He could scarcely believe it. He had raped her. He was about to rape her again. And for some reason, she chose to be nothing more than a delicate, obedient flower. So submissive and willing.  

Without ever taking his eyes away from hers, he lined himself up to her entrance and pressed into her. Her lips parted in a soft gasp as he filled her all the way. Her hands flew to his shoulders and she clung to him with a fierce need. She took him so well. He watched with fascination as her pupils dilated, half certain his must be doing the same. Her mouth hung open in a silent moan as he pulled out of her and then plunged back in, slowly building his pace, snapping his hips into hers with growing force. He leaned all of his weight on one arm and used the other to grip her thigh, pinning her open. Her eyes fluttered closed as he pounded into her. The room was filled with the wet slap of their bodies joining again and again. The only other sounds were the gentle whimpers Naevia gave each time she was filled. She was so perfect. So soft. So wet. All for him! 

Lucius couldn’t deny the jealous beast that grew inside of him. He couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching her. Macrinus said she would bear him a child. That was the purpose of this debauchery. To make him an heir. An heir to his grandfather’s line. Lucius imagined what Naevia would look like as she swelled with his child. The image only made him drive into her faster. He let out a heavy moan and rested his forehead against her shoulder. She smelled like bread and honey. He hated to admit it, but the thought of planting his seed in such a sweet girl only urged his need. A primal instinct burned in his mind. He needed to breed. He needed to create something before his miserable life was over. He needed to leave something behind. The animal drive to breed had activated somewhere in the distant corners of his mind, and he couldn’t control it. He felt how tightly her inner walls gripped his cock and all he wanted was to feel her pulse around him as she came. He moved his hand on her thigh between their bodies until his fingers brushed against her bud. Instantly, Naevia’s grip on his shoulder’s tightened. Her nails sunk into his skin and his gasped in response. Her grip on his cock also tightened. She pulsed in time with his ministrations. Clenching down on his length with each drag of his finger over her bud. 

Lucius picked his head up from the crook of her neck. As much as he loved breathing in her scent, he needed to see her. He looked up just as she pulsed around him. Her mouth fell open with a tender moan and her head tilted back, arching her spine. The noise was the sweetest thing he had ever heard. But she wasn’t looking at him. He needed  her to look at him. To see him. To know him. “Look at me,” he demanded between harsh thrusts. Naevia’s eyes fluttered open, but she was looking up at the ceiling. Not at him. “Look at me,” he demanded again, louder this time and with a harsher tone. Naevia’s eyes snapped to his and he felt instant relief. She was burning as much as he was. Every ounce of her essence pulsed with need. A need for him. Lucius gasped as he beheld her. He still couldn’t believe how open and sweet and willing she was for him. He didn’t deserve any of it. He was wholly unworthy. He deserved to feel overwhelming shame. But instead, she was gushing around his cock, making him feel in a way he thought he never would again. He was getting close and he could feel she was too. 

Lucius pinched her bud between his fingers and her walls clenched down on his length. She became impossibly tight and let out a breathy cry. Her eyes were wide and wild as she came on his cock. Lucius let out a low groan as he surged into her as he found his own release. As his warm seed flooded her womb, his eyes fluttered shut and he wondered if it would take root. He rested his forehead against Naevia’s and tried to calm his hammering heart. His chest heaved with each breath but otherwise, he stilled. 

Lucius quickly came down from the high of his orgasm as his mind filled with new anxieties. What if his seed didn’t take? How long would Macrinus force them to do this? Would Naevia be punished if they failed to produce a child? But even worse were the anxieties that came if she did conceive. Would Macrinus be angry if the child was a girl? Would he demand more children from them? If it was a boy, would he be forced to train as a gladiator? Would he be branded and marked? Would he spend his whole life as a slave? Would the boy look like him?

Lucius was vaguely aware of the sound of Macrinus pushing back his chair and walking toward them. But he didn’t fully become aware of his master until he was just a few paces away. Macrinus approached and then walked past them. He opened a cabinet on the far wall and proceeded to go about his business, content to ignore the naked slaves entwined on his rug. Almost as an afterthought, Macrinus mused, “It is a shame your mother never gave you a sister. Then I could have bred you with her! Kept the family tradition alive.”

If Macrinus had said such a thing to him earlier in their conversation, Lucius would have struck him, no matter the consequences. But now, with his cock buried in Naevia’s core and the haze of his anxieties dulling his senses, he couldn’t find the will to do anything about it. Perhaps if he really had a sister, he would have cared more. At least, it was impossible for Macrinus to make it real. 

Lucius had been so desperate for eye contact in the throes of his passion. But now, he couldn’t bring himself to meet Naevia’s gaze. Her face was right below his, but he stubbornly refused to look at her. Even as she whispered his name, “Lucius.” It was so soft he barely heard it. But still, her voice rang like music in his ears. He closed his eyes, willing her to disappear from under him. Willing all his guilt and shame to disappear too. “Lucius,” she whispered again, slightly louder. But still, he couldn’t look at her. As Lucius pulled out of her, Naevia gasped and shivered. But Lucius wasn’t in a state to comfort her. He pulled away from her. He got up onto his knees and sat back on his haunches. Naevia was splayed out before him, her legs spread wide. He watched in a mixture of dread and fascination as his seed spilled from her lower lips. The instinct to spread his seed and reproduce had faded away with his climax. He felt a wave of nausea wash though him. It passed quickly, but in its place came a deep and biting shame. He never thought he’d be in this situation. He had heard many gladiators speak of the children they had fathered in whores and courtesans. And he had once believed himself to be above such things. Naevia shivered on the floor. She gathered her arms under her and weakly pushed herself up, closing her legs as she did. Lucius’s eyes were still locked on the juncture of her legs.

Macrinus threw an ornate robe over his shoulders and straightened the fabric. Without even looking at them, he said, “There is a wash basin in the corner for you to clean up.” Lucius followed the gesture of Macrinus’s hand and spotted a clay bowl on a table in the corner. Macrinus suddenly turned his attention back to Lucius and took a few steps toward him. Lucius, uncertain of what would come next, moved to stand. But Macrinus put up a hand to stop him. Lucius was caught down on one knee before his master. It was a submissive position, no doubt intended to be emasculating. Macrinus smiled casually and said, “I am expected elsewhere, but you may stay here for the rest of the afternoon. Someone will collect you at sundown.”

Lucius’s brow furrowed. They were to be left alone together? 

“Help yourself to the wine and the fruit,” Macrinus continued. He turned toward the door but then, he had another thought and turned around again, “And Lucius,” he said with a harsher twist, “There better not be any trouble when I return.” 

Macrinus waited expectantly, staring Lucius down. Lucius nodded, hoping that would be enough to pacify him. It was not. 

“Well?” Macrinus demanded.

Lucius swallowed hard. He knew what was expected of him. But it was worse that Naevia should be a witness to it. He looked up at Macrinus with a blank face and said, “Yes, master.”

Macrinus nodded and without another word, he opened the door and left.

Lucius took a shuddering breath. He could scarcely believe any of what had just transpired had really happened. But most of all, he could not believe Macrinus had left them alone together. It felt… manipulative. Like Macrinus wanted them to form an attachment. He hesitantly glanced at Naevia and she was already looking at him. Her long hair wrapped around her like a veil, shielding the side of her face and her breasts from his view. She pulled her knees up to her chest, making herself as small as possible. Lucius’s eyes fell to the floor and his jaw tightened. He felt another wave of nausea pass through him and he swallowed back the bile. 

In a quiet voice, Naevia asked, “Are you alright?”

Lucius looked up and saw the genuine concern in her eyes. He nodded quickly and broke their eye contact. It was too much for him. He stood stiffly and walked to the wash basin, a wide bowl with a cloth hanging off the edge. He dipped the cloth into the cool water and rung it out. He thought about cleaning his cock, but he had already been filthy before, so it didn’t matter much. Instead, he brought the damp cloth to Naevia and handed it to her. She accepted the small offering and cleaned between her legs. Whipping away the evidence of their coupling. Lucius turned his head away. It was foolish to think of privacy in such a moment. He had been openly staring at her cunt a minute before. And he had been inside of her the minute before that. But it was what a decent man would do. What a better man than him would do. 

When she finished, Naevia stood. Lucius turned back to her and she met his eye. Only two paces separated them, but it felt like all the vastness of the empire lay between them. He was frozen. He couldn’t even breathe as she stared at him from under her long lashes. All he could think was that she might already be carrying his child. After a long moment of terrible waiting, Naevia reached for him. Lucius’s heart stuttered as she drew closer. With her free hand, she touched his chest, tracing over the bruises that painted his flesh. He let out a soft gasp as she touched a spot that was particularly tender. Her hand froze and she looked up at him with worry, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright,” he cut her off. And with a half-smile, he added, “I am unharmed.” He still couldn’t believe that she wasn’t afraid of him. He recalled how she had cringed when he picked her up at the party. How she had recoiled from his touch. He had imagined she would react the same way this time, even though she had let him hold her for hours after the party. He fully expected her to hate him. But she didn’t. And he was unprepared. “Are you hurt?” he asked her as gently as he could.

“No,” she whispered as she shook her head softly. Her hand on his chest moved to his shoulder and brushed away some loose sand that still clung to him. 

“Forgive me,” Lucius told her, “He didn’t give me the opportunity to bathe before.”

Naevia gave him a soft smile and said, “It’s alright. There are worse things than a sweaty man.”

“Indeed,” Lucius murmured and returned her smile, though his was more of a grimace. With a heavy sigh, he continued, “What Macrinus said… about you bearing my…” His voice trailed off and his eyes fell. Another deep sigh left his body, and he looked to the heavens for guidance. The gods had no love for him. But somehow, he found the strength to look into Naevia’s eyes again and went on, “Macrinus would use a child to control me. To keep me in line. To ensure I would not rebel against him.” Naevia’s brow furrowed in worry. He wanted to reassure and tell her that he would protect her. But he knew that promise would be impossible for him to keep. “I do not wish for you to be entangled in this mess. If there is a way for you to…” He swallowed hard and prepared for the next words he was about to say. “If there is any way for you to stop it before it takes root…”

Naevia trembled slightly but she nodded. “I know of a way,” she admitted. “My former mistress, she would make me drink a tea. But…” She looked into Lucius’s eyes and he saw her fear, vivid and bright. Tears brewed in her eyes as she said, “I do not have any friends in this house. I don’t know anyone. And I’ve seen girls die because they didn’t brew it right! I don’t know-” She cut herself off as the tears came streaming down her face. 

Lucius wrapped both of his arms around her and pulled her close, tucking her head against his chest. She clung to him as she cried. Her trembling body seemed so small compared to his broad form. She was alone and frightened and it was his fault. Because he had been too emotional. Because he had lost control of himself. “Shh,” he tried to soothe her, knowing he was pathetically out of his depth. “It’s alright,” he cooed as he stroked a hand through her hair, “I won’t have you put yourself in danger.” Naevia sniffled again and nuzzled her cheek against him. She had calmed down, but he could still feel her fear as it pulsed through her. It mixed with his own and pooled deep within him. 

He was lost in his despair until he felt her fingers on his cheek, gently turning his face to hers. Her huge, brown eyes gazed up at him sorrowfully. Lucius wanted to reach into her and take away all the fear and misery she felt. He would take all of it if it meant she would be free. Tenderly, she brushed her fingers over his beard, feeling the coarse hairs shift under her touch. Then, she moved her hand to his brow and stroked the small bruises and cuts that marred his skin. He didn’t deserve her tenderness or her affection. He felt tears gathering in his own eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. What could he possibly say to her? What words could sooth his horrible deeds?

Naevia trailed her hand down his chest and took his hand. She led him across the room to the wash basin. She cleaned the cloth in the water and rung it out again. Lucius watched her the whole time, mesmerized by how calm she was. She turned to him and looked up at him expectantly. “Well,” she said, “I cannot reach you up there. So, you’ll have to kneel down.”

Lucius’s heart fluttered. “You mean to wash me?” he asked in disbelief.

Naevia nodded and a blush colored her cheeks. Lucius felt something strange and unnameable swell in his chest. He knelt down and held still while she bathed him with the cloth. She started with his brow, wiping away the sweat and grime that clung to him. She moved down his face and neck. The cool water caused goosebumps to form on his flesh. She knelt down with him and cleaned his shoulders and chest, only slowing as she reached his navel. She hesitated and looked up at him with an uncertain gaze. Lucius took her hand in his own. “It’s alright,” he said to her in a low voice, “I’ll finish the rest.”

Naevia nodded and allowed him to pull the wash cloth from her hand. She stood and retreated back toward the desk, where their clothes lay on the floor. Lucius washed his lower body quickly. The cloth was already filthy but he found a clean corner to scrub his cock with. He barely had the patience to wipe down his legs and feet. His hair was still unwashed but he would have to live with that. He turned back to Naevia and saw she had dressed. Her shy look from across the room sent an unexpected pang though his heart. They hadn’t chosen to be together. But she would be the mother of his child. And that bound them. That made her his responsibility. 

With a hurried pace, he walked back to where his britches lay and hastily pulled them back on. He wished that he had been given a shirt. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so exposed. Naevia looked as though she felt the same way. Her bare arms were pulled tight across her chest, holding herself. He could see her uncertainty. To a certain degree, it was endearing. But he hated that it was him that made her so uncertain. 

With a heavy sigh, he sat down on a bench. His hands gripped his knees and his knuckles turned white from strain. He had much to consider. In the months since his enslavement, he had allowed himself to become consumed by revenge. He could live with bearing his own punishments. But if Macrinus were to pass them on to Naevia and the child, he would never forgive himself. He did not know how to calculate a child into his plans. Much to his surprise, Naevia sat next to him. She sat close enough that their legs touched. After a moment of hesitation, she placed her hand over his, soothing him. He instantly relaxed into her touch. 

Lucius’s mouth went completely dry and he gulped down a heavy breath. “I don’t understand your goodness,” he confessed as he turned to her with awe in his eyes. “And I don’t deserve your tenderness.” 

Naevia shook her head. “No,” she murmured, “It is you who have been good to me.”

Lucius couldn’t help the scoff that fell from his lips. “I violated you. I forced myself on you. Twice now.”

“But you didn’t want to!” Naevia protested. “I could see it from the moment we first met eyes. You’re not like the others.” Lucius raised his hand to her face and stroked her cheek. Naevia leaned into his touch and let out a soft sigh, “Every other touch I have known,” she continued slowly, “was cruel and selfish. You are the only man who has ever… made me feel good.”

A swell of pride flushed in Lucius’s chest.  “My only solace in all this mess,” Lucius told her in a low voice, “Is that no other man will touch you now.”

Naevia opened her eyes and met his with a burning gaze. “I am glad for it,” she said with a smile. “You see? Why would I hate you when you have protected me?”

“I cannot protect you,” Lucius admitted sorrowfully. “I am but a slave. I will likely die in the arena before the child is born.”

Naevia took his hand in hers again and said, “Let us not think of such things.”

Lucius swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and said, “I can think of nothing else.” Naevia’s face clouded with worry. But he continued before she could reply, “These past months, I have been driven only by revenge. For my wife and for my home. But now,” he let out a dark laugh, “I cannot continue down that road without endangering you.”

“Do not worry about me,” Naevia said gently, “I am not with child yet.”

“But you could be,” Lucius said with grave sincerity. 

Naevia blushed deeply but she did not respond. She didn’t have to. 

Silence settled between them. There was little they could say to each other without opening the floodgates of their emotions. Instead, they found a solace in touch. Naevia curled herself under Lucius’s arm and she rested her head against his shoulder. It was comforting to feel her weight against him. Lucius wrapped his arm around her and held her tightly. 

All too fast, the afternoon sun fell low in the sky. The door to the chamber opened and two of Macrinus’s guards stood outside. It was time. 

Lucius placed a kiss on Naevia’s brow. She clung to him as they stood and walked to the door. Only when they reached the guards, did they finally part. Naevia’s fingers lingered on his hand for a moment as they were taken in opposite directions down the hall. Lucius looked back over his shoulder and saw Naevia do the same. It wasn’t like the first time they parted ways; he knew he would see her again. 

AN: I intended this to be a quick follow up, I really did! I intended to post this before new years. But then... well, it just kept getting bigger and more elaborate. I have really loved exploring Lucius's psyche. He's such a fateful character.

As always, thank you all for reading!! If you enjoyed reading this, please comment or reblog. It really means the world to me! And my ask box is always open to anyone who wants to talk about Lucius or writing in general!! <3

[drama-glob]

SPOILERS FOR "APOLOGY TOUR!!!"

Oh this episode hurt, especially the ending. ;_; ;_; ;_;

I figured Stolas and Blitz wouldn't be back to normal or even amicable and that Blitz would need to learn about how his past actions when it comes to relationships have hurt people, but it's just so sad to watch the consequences some to fruition. ;_; Stolas holding onto his anger and hurt from what Blitz yelled at him as well as likely still blaming himself for the arrangement is justifiable since it's barely been any time since "The Full Moon," but him still not taking Blitz point of view on the matter and realizing where he messed up too didn't aid in their progress towards coming back together; Blitz playing up that he wants to just keep things sexual between him and Stolas while mocking relationships and refusing to admit that he did any wrongdoing only exacerbated the matter. :/ I didn't expect the Striker secret to come out and I don't blame Stolas for being upset about that. :/ It's too bad Blitz ruined his apology with a f*ck you and taking his lack of apologizing as a challenge rather than an actual call to change, but I did love the little mentioning of Fizz. ;)

The apology tour Blitz did was hilarious and I love that he actually was thinking about texting Stolas an apology, but of course, he didn't since it's the one he genuinely feels bad about; the surprise cameo of Martha and Mrs. Mayberry was probably the most shocking and hilarious! XD At the party, it was crazy that Blitz had been with and hurt that many people (and that's just the ones that attended O_O), and while I'm glad Stolas got out of the palace and seemed to be enjoy Verosika's company for the most part, seeing him continually drink was heartbreaking, especially because we know he's done it before. ;_;

"All 2 U" was an amazing song with Stolas just laying out all his feelings and pain with him even seeing how his past actions were wrong/contributed to Blitz not reciprocating his feelings. It was also practically unbelievable to see just how much Blitz actually took Stolas's words to heart and legit felt terrible. I love that Blitz showed concern too for Stolas being drunk (likely thinking about Verosika getting to that point and seeing the parallels) as well as him admitting his insecurity about no one being capable of loving him; Stolas then drunkenly pointing out that them throwing a party about how much they hate him every year showed they did care enough about him at one time was funny and true. XD I definitely teared up at Stolas's confession of just being wanting to be wanted and that he didn't even need the grand show he laid out to Blitz initially; the fact that Blitz did attempt to offer comfort to Stolas before he snapped back up made me go awww so hard. ;_; ;_; ;_;

Even though Verosika had such vitriol for most of the night, the fact that she uses the parties to bring those Blitz hurt some comfort that they aren't alone and can even find someone new from those he rejected is in a way comforting; it's sad though that she got dumped for just saying she loved Blitz. ;_; I'm glad Blitz admitted he has been terrible to people and that he wants to change, which definitely made it surprising that the line from the trailer was said to Verosika and not Stolas, but the impact was still great. :)

My heart broke at that incubus asking Stolas to dance because it gave me a bad feeling and sure enough, him and Stolas kissing hurt so much even though I know Blitz and Stolas aren't together anymore right now and this is part of the consequences for Blitz's actions. Him not ruining Stolas's fun hurt as well as at the same time showed he wasn't being selfish, so progress and pain. ;_; ;_; ;_; Hopefully it'll just be a one-night stand, but who knows since Stolas does seem to still want Blitz, but having a break may help both of them work on themselves. ;_; ;_; ;_; Well, if the shorts don't add anymore to the main story, here's me looking forward to "Ghostf*ckers" in October to find out how these two will handling things/change hopefully for the better next time. <3