#i wish we knew a little more of his perspective on things

[twilightakiishi]

do you guys think chika would’ve gotten anything endo drew tattooed? because I feel like since endo did all those lil drawings that were scattered all over the ground (so super cute btw) he decided on his own they weren’t good enough, considering how nervous he was to show takiishi his design (also so fuckin cute). and like! chika doesn’t even know what it really means to endo! I bet it makes endo feel really good that he said yes immediately to something he thought about so deeply…which is also really cute >.<

[yukioos]

SPARKS

SUMMARY: jayce talis x reader // jayce gets off work early because he wants to spend more time with you at home. once he comes home, you tease him consistently, knowing he is still nervous around you. a power outage then makes the whole city dark, and as it is winter time, jayce becomes nervous. he bundles you up in blankets, scared of the severe weather that reminds him of a traumatic experience when he was a kid.

AUTHORS NOTE: happy new year, everyone! i wish you all the best of luck, love, and happiness. i hope you guys enjoy this oneshot, i have an ask of jayce comforting reader so im working on that too :) also, what do you guys think of me writing a part 3 of bed chem/part 2 to espresso? tysm for 450 followers too

WARNINGS: not proofread, reader is referred to as jayce’s wife, pet names

“i believe that’s enough work for today, viktor. we should continue tomorrow,” jayce persuaded, not telling his science partner his true intentions. he bounced his leg anxiously as if he was on edge. viktor noticed and tilted his head, showing a peak of interest as he raised his eyebrow and narrowed his eyes. “it’s becoming late, it would be better for us to come back with a new perspective for this problem.”

viktor stared at jayce as if he had stated the dumbest thing ever. he glared at the man and objected, “it is five in the afternoon! we have much more work to do, jayce, a whole city depends on us and our work! what could possibly be more important than this?” he referred to the projects and items they had created with years of research and experience. the shorter man appeared frustrated with his partner, wondering how he could say such a thing.

“my wife.” jayce responded, the corners of his lips turned downwards. he knew his best friend wouldn’t take the comment kindly, after all, he was dedicated to his work, and jayce was too. however, he didn’t expect the shorter man to react in a harsh and degrading way. it made his body feel hot, and he balled his fists up. viktor grumbled and averted his eyes. he knew how important you were to jayce, and he, being the clingiest partner ever, never liked being away from you for long periods of time.

but the desperation on jayce’s face made him hesitate, he put his feelings on hold. the taller man was known as the man of progress, everyone knew his name, and he was working himself to death. he confided in viktor once, saying he knew he was working his ass off, and he was tired, but the one thing that kept him going was you. the pale man sighed and rubbed his eyes, then surrendered, “tell her i said hi.”

he was met with a beaming smile and a chirpy voice. jayce grinned, “i will, vik. thank you.” he then grabbed his luggage and waved goodbye to the scientist, and was more than ecstatic to hear your sweet voice again.

so he smiled as he walked down the hallways of the academy and the streets of piltover, having to pause every couple of minutes to greet someone along the way. he huffed once he was close to your shared home, and by the time he was at the front steps of your house, his cheeks were freezing. it’s a good thing you, his precious wife, told him to bundle up before leaving for work this morning. if he didn’t, his whole body would be freezing! he thought, he was so thankful to have you.

he reached his hand into his coat pocket and grabbed a pair of keys, which were decorated with a keychain of a cute ‘i love you’ note from you. he smiled at the sight, then placed the key into the keyhole and twisted. he twisted again, tugged the key out, and placed it back into his soft pocket.

quickly, he was met with warm air and the smell of cupcakes invading his senses. he greeted, “darling, i’m home!” hoping to call you out from wherever you were. he glanced around before shrugging off his coat and scarf and placing it onto a hanger. he then heard little footsteps and guessed you were walking toward him from the kitchen.

“you’re home early,” you commented, by every step you took closer to him, he became more and more nervous. he started avoiding your intimidating gaze, you noticed and grinned, deciding you were going to tease him a bit more. his cheeks began to flush, and you mumbled, “you look good, baby,” he nervously chuckled and averted his gaze away, eyebrows furrowed upwards as he couldn’t fight the smile on his face.

he chuckled, “i didn’t do anything different to my face… or my outfit,” he began to stutter when you gently grabbed his tie and pulled him down to your height, “well, besides— besides the coat and— um… scarf…” he was then face-to-face with you. you tilted your head slightly to the right and tapped his cheek, wanting him to look at you.

he eyed you once he felt the touch on his face and quickly felt your lips on his in a matter of seconds. he smiled into the kiss and wrapped his large arms around you, always wanting to be as close as he could to you. you placed your hands on his shoulders, then gently massaged his scalp with your freshly manicured nails. he groaned into the kiss and his shoulders felt less tense.

suddenly, the lights in your house turn off, causing both of you to pull away from the kiss. his hands still stayed on your hips, but you let go of his body and unlocked the door, checking outside. the streets were dark. you spoke about what you were thinking, “power outage? that’s rare, isn’t it?” then turned to your husband, frowning as you realized you couldn’t see him.

he replied, “there’s never been a power outage in piltover,” he paused, eyes widening, “what about the hexgates? they’re probably out of power too, i need to fix them—“ he reached his hand out for the doorknob, but you grabbed his hand and cradled it in yours.

you interjected, “jayce, it’s not your job to make sure all the electrical stuff is working. let the other citizens handle it, it’s their job, anyway. how about we grab a flashlight from the nightstand and go read some books?” before he could respond, you walked over to the pantry and grabbed some snacks and drinks. he followed you and slowly guided you to the stairs, escorting you to your shared room.

after you grabbed your flashlight, jayce grabbed a book from a shelf and asked you to read it to him as he pointed the light at it. you were both cuddling on your large bed, his head laid comfortably on your side. as hours passed, the house became cold, and goosebumps formed on your skin.

jayce placed his hand on your arm and gently rubbed it before realizing goosebumps were a sign that the weather was severe and cold. his eyes widened and he put the flashlight down, causing you to call out his name. he shuttered and mumbled, “you need more blankets— i’ll— i’ll go get some, please change into something warmer.” but before you could tell him you felt fine, he grabbed another flashlight and headed to the linen closet. there, you stored extra blankets, and he managed to carry around seven, which was all of them.

his mind went straight to when he was a child and in a snowstorm. his mother passed out, and he was scared for his and her life. he was soon diagnosed with ptsd once he went to a therapist and told them that he always became nervous when the weather dropped. you knew about this but never wanted him to overreact, as you most of the time, were feeling fine heat-wise.

as he placed the blankets over you and grabbed a long-sleeved t-shirt from your drawers, you reached out to him. he flinched and his eyes were red, almost watering, and wide. you stated, “jayce, come back to bed, please.” and rubbed his arm comfortingly, hoping to soothe your husband.

he tried to deny your command, “but you’re cold— your goosebumps— you need something warmer—“ he continued to rummage through your drawers.

“jayce.” you harshly said, grabbing his attention quickly. he shrunk under your gaze, almost feeling ashamed of himself. he averted his gaze, but you softened your tone, “let’s head back to bed, okay? i promise you everything is fine, we’re perfectly healthy and warm.” you didn’t know exactly what to say, but he sighed and closed the drawer.

he walked to his side of the bed and laid down, and you did the same. you were both on your sides, and he had a worried expression on his face. his mind wouldn’t rest anytime soon until he knew you were safe. you hoped to comfort him, and your heart ached, never having seen this behavior from him. you scooted closer to him and kissed his forehead, causing him to slowly slip into your arms. he laid on top of you, hoping to keep you warm with his large frame.

you kissed his forehead and rubbed his back, mumbling praises and ‘i love you’s. you whispered, “we’re both safe, honey, i promise.”

as you were about to close your eyes, he mumbled, “thank you,” he was on the verge of falling asleep, then he continued, “i don’t know what i would do if you weren’t in my life. i love you.”

your heart warmed at his words, and you kissed his head once again. his breath evened out and he didn’t say much, but even as his eyes were closed, you knew deep down, he was still a little boy afraid of losing people he loved.

[year2000electronics]

Bill & Ford & A Book, Oh My!

DISCLAIMER: The Book of Bill has Bill Cipher serving as an unreliable narrator. If we go out trying to say something is "definitively a truth" or "definitively a lie", we're going to keep arguing about it until the heat death of the universe. This is just my own personal interpretation of the source material. If you don't agree, that's fine! Also TBOB spoilers abound.

So it's no secret that interest in the dynamic Bill & Ford have (enemies, platonic, romantic, formerly romantic, whichever way) has really skyrocketed since TBOB's release. Of course, there are the 'easy' culprits to point towards, with Mabel referring to Bill as 'being like a needy ex', and the whole O'Sadley's fiasco (Him literally crying over losing Ford and going "one Sixer, please"? Messy. Messy behavior. Still, I think it goes so much deeper than that.

Bill, being the unpredictable chaos entity that he is, also serves as the main antagonist for a show about family and having close bonds with each other. We don't really need to look into his inner psyche that much, because that's just not what he needed to be doing at that point in the cartoon. He's meant to be a way to divide the Pines, really. And a silly little guy. A silly little obstacle. So, naturally, when it came to Bill's arguably "closest" relationship to someone in the show (Ford), it was very easy to interpret it as Ford being tricked by a completely apathetic Bill, who was just using him as a rung on the ladder. And I do want to stress that Ford and Bill's physical actions remain fairly consistent throughout interpretations, and focusing on the fact that Bill badly hurt Ford is important, so if that's how you still see it, then fine by me! No harm no foul!

But I think the relationship, their story, their tragedy just becomes so much more interesting with the lens The Book of Bill has presented. We’re finally able to see Bill’s perspective as a “protagonist” of sorts in a medium where he’s not just something to defeat- and that’s something we’ve never gotten before, so it’s shedding light on an area we didn’t know about for sure! Again, Bill is lying to the character of "the reader", so we can't trust it as a completely unbiased source. But we can speculate on where the "truth" is between these lies.

First of all, Bill's backstory was that he destroyed his home dimension- we knew that already. But now, with the extra content we have about it, we see something interesting- that Bill's backstory mirrors Ford's to an uncanny degree.

Both of them champion their intelligence, although they highlight how it set them apart from others, as well as highlighting their own 'rare mutation/birth defect'.

Again, with this self-isolation already spurred on from their "weirdness", but also as a little aside, I would also like to highlight that Bill being 'ready to be one', looking up at the stars, striving to 'reach' them, is a shared motif he has with Ford, who is also associated with space, the stars, and reaching them.

Bill's 'trying-really-quick-to-convince-Ford' fantasy sequence even has him in a field of stars as a sort of "ultimate wish fulfilment". Remember, this is Bill showing Ford something he thinks would win Ford over, at least a little.

(And I'll take a quick time out for this train of thought to point out- hey! Bill admits he sought out most of his other victims, but Ford summoned him, and it took him by surprise! That adds a fun little layer of complexity to everything, don't you think? Another little layer of humanity for this whole mess- Bill didn't expertly seek out the 'perfect victim' or anything, it was just... luck. Some twist of fate.)

Anyways.

Obviously, the intro page to the 'Sixer' section has a ton of red flags galore (I mean, poor guy's literally depicted as a hapless puppet. C'mon, Bill. Not to mention the "OH BOY HE'S ALREADY SO ISOLATED, IT'S PERFECT" thing.). This guy is kind of a terrible companion no matter how you slice it. He's terrible to everyone close to him, because he's a deeply traumatized character who refuses to heal. BUT, the wording here is kinda deliciously intriguing to me. All of humanity is Bill's puppets, his future victims, but to me, it's clear that he holds a fondness for Ford. From "This is what a partner looks like", to "Me and Sixer could be the perfect team", to "He had what I always wanted- fingers" (drawn to his strangeness, maybe?), "He was destined for so much more", "I looked at his futures and giggled", and most stand-out to me, "Society calls these people freaks, I call them Henchmaniacs!"

Going back to the pre-Book of Bill era I was talking about, Bill's offers for Ford to join him were always in a sort of murky territory for interpretation. The first offer could definitely be read as mocking, with the line "WITH THAT SIX-FINGERED HAND, YOU'D FIT RIGHT IN WITH MY FREAKS!" in particular making it seem like Bill was only saying that to rub Ford's strangeness in his face, and the second offer to join Bill being under a new circumstance- that now Bill is desperate and believes Ford is the only one who can help him. But the Book of Bill mentions the idea of Ford becoming a Henchmaniac more than once, and also has Bill upset at losing Ford and claiming "he'll be back", as well as Bill seeming to use "freak" more like a badge of honour, and having previously complimented Ford's six fingers (In the Sixer intro page, he highlights Ford's fingers as a quality he likes, and in the pages about bodies, he states that "humans should have more fingers". To me, that first offer reads more now like Bill being genuine about finding Ford a place among his misfits. ...Although, the moment Ford says no, he does zap him into a statue. So. Y'know. He's still got issues.

(Yeah, again, red flag city. "Just hazing"? Bill, none of what you were doing over there was okay! You might have suppressed everything traumatic that happened to you, but that doesn't mean you can go around traumatizing everyone! Good lord.)

Bill has already been imply to like other characters because they remind him of himself. Pointing towards a connection with a character Bill DOESN'T have a weird undefinable ex-partner thing with... Mabel! Alex has says in multiple official media and interviews that Bill sees a lot of himself in Mabel, and essentially, that he thought Mabeland was the perfect prison because if HE liked all that awesome, uncontrolled chaos over any family or friends, why wouldn't SHE? And we see that again in TBOB. So basically, what I'm saying is that we have two characters to back up the fact that Bill seems gravitated towards humans or other living beings that he views as being 'like him'- beings he can relate to! So, y'know, what does that say about Bill and Ford?

There's also Bill's plans for the reader and "Weirdmageddon 2.0", where he portrays the reader as getting to, like, perch on his arm like a little bird and get their own little crown? And specifically calls out Ford for not going through with things?? Okay, Bill??

AND Ford not only being the only human mentioned on the list of people he "definitely doesn't miss so stop asking", but also having his own category? Alright, man.

Of course, another point to the 'Hey, maybe Bill can actually feel emotions towards humans besides complete and total apathy' club is this page here, which has ALSO been hotly debated! Certainly, we know he's telling the truth about his home dimension being destroyed, and we know that he's lying about the 'monster', but some interpret this scene as Bill not being remorseful at all and playing his reaction up to earn Ford's sympathy. And me, personally, I dunno if I agree. I feel like the specific inclusion of Bill "looking distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him" (Mirroring the fact that he keeps blacking out when thinking about all his large-scale massacres) and him "laughing joylessly", I think this sequence is meant to tell us that Bill actually is being vulnerable with Ford here, it's just hidden under layers and layers of deceit, whether towards himself or Ford or both.

And finally for my Book of Bill collection stuff, there's the stuff that could be read as more romantic in nature. In the 'love' section, Bill claims he doesn't love anyone, but, like-

Come on. You can disagree with me that it's Ford, but he does have exes. And he's clearly not over them. Shrimpy little liar. And then there's the fact that a lot of his hokey 'advice' is stuff he ends up directly doing to Ford.

These rats.

The Love Cage.

The Book of Bill really outlined all that in bold, but in my opinion, it was never an entirely new revelation! Bill seems to hold a preference for Ford over other humans in the show. He shows up in Ford's dreams just to say hi, tease him, and gloat (Mabelcorn) unlike the other two dream appearances he's made (Dreamscaperers, Sock Opera) which were exclusively for business purposes. Unlike every other character that gets exclusively one nickname for their zodiac sign, Ford gets multiple (Fordsy, IQ, Sixer, smart guy, brainiac, the list goes on). Bill asks Ford to join him TWICE, whereas anyone else who tries gets their face rearranged, put in a cage and made to dance, frozen in stone, etc etc. And finally, I think, the most emblematic of Bill's weird, specific relationship with Ford, is that whereas everybody else gets turned into stone, Ford got turned into gold.

Which kinda sums up their whole thing up pretty well? Bill gave him special treatment by turning him into a golden statue (similar to yellow ha ha), always holding him close, but, like... Dude. You still kidnapped a man and turned him into a statue and then threatened to kill his niece and nephew. I don't think it will change his opinion on you if he's the Most Pampered Hostage, Actually. I just don't think that we need to explore the relationships between characters as simply "Well, this character hurt the other one, so we shouldn't really think about why or what they feel personally, because what they did was bad, so there".

Bill & Ford interest me because they're a tragedy in motion. We can see that Bill and Ford mirror each other in a multitude of ways, and we can see that they both do have positive feelings towards each other at the time they meet, and we see that Bill very desperately wants Ford to be just like him in the unhealthy ways; the ways that make Bill destroy entire universes and compartmentalize it all, because maybe then, he can finally have the companionship he so deeply aches for. Bill and Ford both had tough, lonely upbringings, but Ford moved on from that "I don't need you" mentality. That's what saved him. Bill didn't, and that's what got him where he was in the end. I feel like that's just so much more interesting than Bill just being a flat entity that makes abuse Happen to Ford, just as another Event in his life. I mean, isn't it just SO much more interesting that Ford humanizes Bill, in a way? That Ford makes him- in Bill's own words- "sentimental"? That a chaotic dream demon has regrets and loves and favourites and connections? It's the same thing with Fiddleford & Ford, although, obviously, to a MUCH lesser extent than Bill & Ford. But you get what I mean, right? You know that Fiddleford and Ford are going to undo each other in the end, and the path to that downfall is... it's telling a story! I like the story of it all! I think that's what I've been invested in and intrigued by all these years- the story, the tragedy of Bill and Ford. No matter what form it takes.

(Plus, as tumblr user fordtato pointed out in their own essay (not tagging because this post is messy enough as is oh god), hey, Ford now has two incredibly queer-coded narratives, with one of them being about how he recovered and was able to heal from an abusive relationship. And, well, I think that's just neat.)

Anyways, that's the end of the post. Thanks for reading this long!

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 24

(Erikír is a Mahi Mahi merman and is best suited to warm climate seas. He doesn't fare well in cold climates or cold waters, hence his dislike for Merfolk who are more adapted to the cold like Azul and the Tweels. Genetically, Erikír is part Human and benefits greatly from that part of him that allows him to get almost anything he wants. Though his Mahi Mahi genes are dominant, he does have a few abyssal sea creatures in his heritage, but shuns these parts of him because he prefers the more Human-like appearance of his Mahi Mahi genes. He has long wished for a Human of his own to wed and adore, to the point he is considered as much of a Humanfucker as Azul is.)

Warnings; longer chapter, Spelldrive Tournament in full swing, poachers, betrayal, Grim and the Human are both in danger several times during chapter, snuggles, calming an unhappy Dragon, conflict of the highest proportion, power difference, public violence, Leona is not a happy camper but he is trying, isolation, suggestive themes, plans and schemes come to light, Azul is a schemer but can be a genuinely good guy, fish conflict, Dragon rage, familiar faces, RSA students choosing sides, overblot, violence, mention of blood and ink, the plot bunny took off sprinting, interference, Nemean Lion, Harpies, Dragon, Vampire Bat, Raiju, Cervitaur, Hellcat, Merfolk, Drider, Bakeneko, Unicorn,

~~~~~~~~

Leona was furious and pouting all at once as you spoke to the Headmage. It was later in the day when he called you and your guards for the week to his office, but what he had to say deeply upset Leona.

The Spelldrive Tournament was going to take place the very next day and the storm had yet to let up. Almost everywhere outside looked like a swamp-land made of mud and most students struggled to get through the tumultuous terrain even for their flying classes with Professor Vargas. There was no way the Spelldrive Tournament could take place while the storm continued to rage.

That brought you to the present where Crowley had given you an order dressed as a suggestion.

"It would be best for you to spend the evening with Diasomnia so we have a chance to dry the arena without further storms."

"Wait, so you're telling me Tsuno has been the cause of this storm for several days?"

"Yes. Mr. Draconia is a Dragon, and as a Dragon he is far more linked to nature and the natural weather cycles. Surely you have noticed how his general mood impacts the world around him?"

"Of course I have, he even told me when he is angry it storms, I just didn't think anyone could keep a storm going for days like this. Not even him."

Crowley nodded, looking back out as several more strikes of green lightning leaped through the dark and swirling clouds. It really was putting Malleus' strength in perspective for you to find out that he could keep such a strong storm going for days on end. You being in Savanaclaw must have deeply messed with his personal comfort, though you were beginning to feel his possessive behavior was more than just the norm for how he protected his Hoard.

"Savanaclaw is the dorm tasked with guarding the little Mousey, you can't just sweep in and tell us the night before the Spelldrive that we have to give her up because that Lizard is in a pissy mood-!"

The lightning now struck the very tower your group was in at least four times, crackling and roaring with thunder. It was far more than just simple coincidence that the lightning followed Leona's crass words towards the Dragon. Even as things calmed, poor Grim was shaking inside your uniform jacket, covering his torn ears with his little paws.

"Leona, the Spelldrive can't happen if the arena is flooded. I'm sorry, but if this is really all because of Tsuno, then I have to go to Diasomnia tonight. Even Vil said it was likely before we had that photoshoot."

Leona's ears angled back at your words, he knew you were right but he didn't like it regardless. Even beyond the fact that he now had to break the news to his team about not having your energizing and filling cooking the night before the Spelldrive Tournament, he had other issues. He simply didn't trust those RSA boys, at least, he didn't trust Erikír.

"Speaking of the photoshoot," Leona growled, now turning back to Crowley, "I take serious issue with that pompous prick Erikír being anywhere near Mousey. I don't give a damn if the Owl trusts that fish-prince, he isn't safe to keep around her."

"Ambrose assures me all three of the chosen guards are sworn to keep her safe from poachers-"

"But what about keeping her safe from them?"

"What do you mean?"

"That fucker tried to hold Mousey and was feeling up her stomach during that stupid photoshoot."

This made Crowley suddenly scowl, his feathers ruffling as his wings rose up dangerously. The relaxed and almost flippant behavior of the Crow Harpy was now gone, replaced by a low cawing hiss from the man.

"... He did what?"

"That fish-dick prince was making Mousey uncomfortable and kept touching on her stomach for almost every picture he was in! Even when Mousey yelled at him for his behavior, he didn't deny it, he just gave excuses!"

A kind of rage seemed to fill the Crow as his feathers bristled and his lip curled in fury. Such a brazenly disrespectful act from someone who should know better than to try and assault the treasured Human was no small crime. Still, it was too late to really change the guards now so close to the Tournament. He would have to ensure to speak with Ambrose about Erikír never getting the chance to be with you alone.

"I will handle it."

"But-!"

"I said I will handle it, Mr. Kingscholar. For now, continue on as you have. (Y/n), my sweet little bird, I will take you to Diasomnia. If anything happens tomorrow to make you uncomfortable- from words said, to physical action taken- you need to tell me or one of the professors. Even if you just get an off feeling from anyone, find one of us or a Housewarden. I will talk with Ambrose about his questionable choice of Mr. Helmsman and we will address his behavior towards you. Mr. Ashengrotto is in charge of most confections and organization of tomorrow, he will be made aware of the situation and I will ensure he keeps an eye on those Royal Sword Academy students tomorrow."

You nodded, casting a glance back at Leona as Crowley gently herded you from the room, leading you to the ever familiar mirror of the Diasomnia dorm. Even inside Diasomnia's realm, the storm only seemed to rage stronger than it did outside on Sage Island. Crowley was quick to cover you with one of his large black wings, ushering you inside the dorm and out of the raging winds.

Thankfully, due to his insulating wing, you weren't too wet from the rain, but the Crow was obviously not pleased and shook out his feathers. The students that had been in the common area looked over as the two of you entered, their curiosity drawing more attention along with hushed whispers. Despite having been in Diasomnia before, you really didn't remember the way to Malleus' room and felt a little lost in the grand halls of the dorm.

You didn't see Malleus among them and slowly reached up to grab your collar, holding the Magestone gifted to you. Malleus did say you could call him for anything and he would answer, so perhaps you would have to call for him now.

"(Y/n)!"

A familiar voice cheered happily and from the rafters fell a familiar leathery-winged Bat. The young-looking Fae seemed thrilled to see you in Diasomnia, his hair fluffed up and his smile wide as he greeted you.

"Here for a visit? You should go see Malleus, he has been a bit out of sorts recently and I'm sure seeing you will put him in an excellent mood."

"Well, that's why I'm here. Apparently, we can't do the Spelldrive Tournament if the field is too wet, so I'm here to see if Tsuno will be willing to call off his storm if I stay the night."

"Wonderful idea! Here, let me go get him-"

A loud boom of thunder shook the stone foundations of the dorm and everyone glanced nervously in what was likely the direction of Malleus' room. The faint click of hooves approaching let you know more students were joining those in the common area. Silver and Sebek came into view shortly following the lull of thunder, both looking worse for wear.

Sebek's head was hanging low and he had an almost sad look on his fierce face, his tail limp and his ears drooping slightly. Silver didn't seem to be in any better of a mood as the two almost looked downcast. Without much decorum or their usual grace, the two approached Lilia with tired eyes and disheartened expressions.

"My Liege won't come out of his room. He refuses to see anyone, just like yesterday. It is not my place to suggest such things, but perhaps we could convince-"

Sebek cut himself off as he saw you standing there, Grim slowly peaking out of your uniform jacket and looking towards the familiar faces curiously. He seemed to almost get a second wind as he stared, mouth somewhat ajar in surprise. Silver was quicker to pick up on his change in attitude, noticing you as well and perking up in a similar way to Sebek.

"M-My Lady (Y/n)," Sebek quickly bowed his head to you, "did something happen in that detestable Lion's dorm-?"

"No, not at all, Sebek. I'm here to spend some time with Malleus."

"Thank the stars! I mean-! His Highness has been pining recently... I have been worried that he has refused to leave his room for several days now, but if he finds out the entire Hoard is here, perhaps he will calm."

You nodded and then realized Lilia had skipped off without anyone realizing, likely heading the direction Silver and Sebek had come. As you turned to Silver to hear what the Reindeer had to say, there was a sudden sound of rumbling that was quite different from the storm outside. It sounded like someone running.

You yelped as you were suddenly swept up into a pair of arms, a familiar black tail winding around you quickly and holding you securely. The chest you were held against was thumping wildly with a frantic heart, a low almost purring noise meeting your ears as the storm outside lulled to silence. There was no need to look and see who it was that held you as you were quite familiar with the arms and tail holding you. Even the wings that wrapped around your figure and hid you from outside view were a familiar color that shined in the low light of the dorm.

"(Y/n)," Malleus hummed, his voice as soft as a whisper, "you're here..."

You smiled somewhat, pulling back to give Grim more room as he purred and bumped his head gently against Malleus' chest. Clearly the Hellcat had missed the Dragon as well, happy to see him again. Grim's behavior towards Malleus made you smile as it was obvious the kit enjoyed the presence of the nocturnal Fae.

"Mama and I missed you, Tsuno!"

Malleus was practically beaming at the happy tone and kind words of the kit, smiling at the both of you affectionately. He even allowed the kit to use his tiny claws, clambering up the front of his Dorm uniform and onto his broad shoulder. The Dragon smiled at the sweet behavior of the kit, ensuring the feline didn't fall as he returned his gaze to you.

"And I have missed my two wayward Hoard members. Now the Hoard is complete once more."

~•§•~

The sun began to crest the horizon, slowly shedding light onto the glistening buildings and fields. With luck, the reprieve from the relentless storm had been enough to somewhat dry the soaked land. Even if it wasn't enough, magic could certainly do the rest.

Shadows retreated from the boarders of the school atop the mountain, hissing as they fled back into the woods. The campus began to buzz with activity as the day of the Spelldrive Tournament had finally arrived. Naturally, most outside of the Diasomnia students didn't expect their dorm to win, but it was still enough of an occasion to stir up the hearts of the students.

With the increasing activity and the low hum of students, everyone began to prepare for the day of activity. What many students hadn't expected was the increased presence of their rival school so early in the day.

Many students from Royal Sword Academy were taking up posts, offering to help the more standoffish Night Raven College students in setting up for the day. The conflict between the two schools was palpable, requiring the intervention of several Housewardens to keep the peace. Even with the presence of the rival school, the excitement in the air was too much for most to ignore.

"I have informed Neige and Artemiyevich that Erikír should not be left alone with young (Y/n) at any point today. Hopefully it will be enough. They also confirmed his behavior towards (Y/n) was out of line."

"He shouldn't be one of her guards today, you know that as well as I. His behavior proves he cannot handle being in the presence of a Human."

"I have faith he will be mindful of his place today, and we will discuss further punishment for his actions."

"Ambrose, he touched her stomach."

"And we will address that after the Spelldrive Tournament. There are too many visiting royals and family members to bring it up now on the cusp of this event. He will be punished, trust me on that, but now is not the time."

Crowley gave another annoyed cawing sound, an almost low croak of a vocalization. Though he wanted that prince punished for daring to perform such a brazen and provocative act, the Headmage understood Ambrose's ambivalent take on the situation. They just needed to get through this Tournament and then scores could be settled.

"Fine. May this day be as uneventful as possible."

~•§•~

You sat in a side room of the arena in an indoor seat, far from the view of cameras and crowds. The window on the far side of the private suite was looking out over the arena where the seven dorms of Night Raven College clashed together in an attempt at winning over the others. Thus far, Savanaclaw and Diasomnia were in the lead and likely to face off in the final round. Despite spending most mornings that week watching the Savanaclaw team play and practice, you still understood very little about how the game was actually played.

The most you could gather from the rounds you had seen was that there had to be seven members on each team and the goal was to take control of the Frisbee like disk and get it to the goalposts on either side of the field. Some of the team was flying on brooms, other members were using their magic to try and protect the disk from the opposing team. It still made very little sense to you, but you were content to watch all the same.

Any time Malleus or Leona took the field, it became readily apparent that they were the crowd favorites as more than a bit of noise was made for them. Clearly, it burned Vil somewhat as he glowered at Leona from the opposite side of the arena as the Harpy's dorm lost to the Lion. Now Diasomnia and Savanaclaw would be facing off in the finals.

If anything, the Tournament really put into perspective how skilled those selected actually were. From the magic they used to take or keep control of the disk, to the ferocity at which they played and moved, you were realizing that you were extremely outmatched against any of these magic users. All it really did was let you know how crucial those like Malleus truly were to your survival. Perhaps, next time you are assigned to a specific dorm, you would call upon Malleus with that Magestone he had gifted you.

He did say 'whenever you need' so surely that truly meant whenever. Even beyond keeping your allies close it would also keep everyone else safe. That storm lasted for days on end, lightning and thunder rolling day and night. Though you had been tucked away safely in Savanaclaw dorm far beyond the reach of the outside weather, you knew the storm had raged at all hours. To think Malleus could keep it going for that long only further proved how outmatched almost everyone was.

Though you were brought into the Hoard unwillingly, your role was becoming clearer by the day. Any living member of a Dragon's Hoard kept that Dragon peaceful. Maybe you had to just periodically visit with him but could still manage to get time away from his almost suffocating embrace.

Luckily Lilia seemed keen to help you in exchange for more time spent with him teaching you ways to soothe the dangerous beast that was Malleus. He had done it for hundreds of years now, he was the master of it thus far. It would behoove you to at least learn how to keep the Dragon calm if only to have more chances to speak with the Human Ghosts.

Time was becoming your primary currency and with all these beasts vying for it, you would have to learn to spend it wisely. If that meant honing you abilities to earn their affections, then you would have to do that and do it subtly. If you could just ask the Ghosts what this aura specifically did and how to control it, maybe you could survive and escape this insanity after all. The stronger the beast, the more you were protected from those that were so keen to get their hands on you.

Beasts like Erikír.

You spoke with Lilia about the misconception that they all seemed to have, vaguely recalling those moments in the past any had touched your stomach. It was a strange and ludicrous falsehood they all seemed to believe was true and it boggled your mind. At least it had prevented most of them from trying to give you belly-rubs. But it still put the Merman's faux pas into perspective.

It also put some of Leona's behavior into perspective. Still, you looked more favorably on Leona for resting on your stomach in the Greenhouse, as Grim had settled there first. Maybe the Lion didn't know or didn't care about these myths surrounding Humans.

Outside of territorial behavior, Grim had been a good judge of character and had hissed at the prince before. Grim also seemed to have a much better opinion of Leona than he did Erikír, lending more credence to a lack of ulterior motive on Leona's part. Even now, Grim kept a wary eye on the Merman who stood to your left, closest to the door.

You wondered why they allowed him to show up if what he did was truly such a disrespect, but you also figured it was because he was skilled in magic and could act as a guard. It wasn't like the RSA students were present for a social visit. Despite that fact, Neige had been a welcome source of distraction and conversation.

"What do you think of the Spelldrive Tournament so far, (Y/n)? It always amazes me how Vil can still look so lovely even while playing a sport."

"I guess that's just how he is. He does make it look flawless. Do you two know each other?"

"Yeah, we went to school together before we both got accepted into mage school. We were always in the same school plays and musicals as the two lead roles. I was usually cast as the hero lead and Vil was cast as the villain. Even then he was amazing at acting and stole the show every time. I always felt so proud of him and a little sad when we had to fight, even if it was just acting."

Neige was a breath of fresh air and honesty, readily telling you all of his stories and sharing every bit of information he could remember. There was a slight warbling coo to his voice as he spoke and the sound caught Grim's attention quickly. The little Hellcat's pupils locked onto the Harpy who continued to speak, his whiskers and tail twitching in fixation.

Of course the Hellcat would like birds.

"We both became young actors and actually got movie roles together too. It always made me smile so much to see Vil was cast as my partner again. Not like a hero partner, but a villain partner. A hero is good and all, but it is the villain that really carries the movie. If you don't have a skilled villain, you don't have a good movie. He hasn't been acting much since he started school here though. I miss him-"

The sweet Dove cut off with a loud cooing call, startled as his wings flared out to the sides when Grim leaped for the boy. It was immediately obvious the kit was harmlessly playing and Neige actually began to laugh as Grim pawed obsessively at his face, trying to get Neige to coo again. You smiled and stood to retrieve Grim, holding your hands out to the kit that was purring and mewling happily against the feathers of the Dove.

As you extended your hand a voice caught your attention and you felt the sudden presence of magic all around you. It hummed in the air musically and glowed a cerulean through the space around you like water. The source of the intrinsically beautiful light coming from over you shoulder near the door.

"Voiceless Song."

The voice cut through the magic with cold determination as almost all sound seemed to be blocked out. Everything except for a softly lulling melody drowned in the wave of magic that took over the room. A hand pulled you away from the other RSA students and Grim, almost throwing you back into the firm chest of the one behind you. The others seemed trapped in some kind of trance by the music as you were pulled out of the room.

A webbed hand flew over your mouth as you writhed in the grasp of the man as the door closed behind you and sound returned. No doubt those in the room were trapped by whatever spell was cast. Similarly, it felt like your voice was suddenly trapped in your throat. Though you were beyond the lasting influence of the room, you were still silenced.

"Shh, we don't want you calling anyone for help now, not when we're so close. Keep quiet while those Fae poachers take care of our exit plan. To think, all it took to make them join my side was the promise of one of our eggs-"

You writhed suddenly in his grasp, teeth clamping down on the flesh with a quick turn of your head. His grasp loosened enough in surprise that you could turn in his hold, curling your fingers so your knuckles met his throat so you cut him off sharply.

His arms fell from their place as he held his throat in shock, but you weren't going to wait around this time. The moment you were loose you took off in the opposite direction, heading to the suite not far from you.

Azul's team had lost early and the dorm leader retired to a nearby reserved suite. He even texted you about his location in case of emergencies and this was absolutely an emergency. In your blind run you felt your silenced throat and lamented the fact you couldn't call Malleus while affected.

The door was already open when you rounded the corner, Azul walking out with Jade and Floyd following close behind. All three looked ready to fight as you ran straight into Floyd, the sturdy Merman catching you and holding you protectively. He was quick to move you so you were behind him and Jade, Azul immediately facing the approaching threat.

Erikír rounded the corner and seemed surprised to find Azul standing in his way. He held his throat and his voice came out hoarsely from your direct attack, no longer the smooth croon he usually had.

"Azul... Of course it's you."

"What happened, Erikír? Her collar pinged."

"It-? Of course. Of course, it was too easy. I should have known. Why didn't I think of that?"

"What are you on about? (Y/n), did he hurt you?"

Azul glanced back at you and you tried to speak and say something to the concerned octopus, but no words came out. His eyes widened at this and he whirled around to face Erikír.

"You did this with your signature spell! I should have known you would pull something like this!"

"No! I would expect you to do something so monstrous. I am looking out for the Human and I am what is best for her. Not you villains! None of you understand the truth, but I do. And even if I need to become a monster, I will prove it to you."

The harsh snapping of bones and ripping of clothes met your ears as the lovely prince standing before you turned into a twisted and wicked looking beast. His mouth ripped and deformed to allow jutting teeth like a deep sea fish, his fins curling and splines ripping away at his clothes. Dark ink pooled beneath his nails as his skin grayed and leeched out his natural colors. The pin on his lapel came loose and formed a long trident in his hands, ink seeming to bleed from the walls and his body.

"Jade, Floyd!"

Both twin Eels drew their weapons, a Leiomano in Floyd's hand an a Harpoon in Jade's hand. The Feral Erikír hissed a shrieking roar as it attacked, Azul pulling you back from the fray and assessing your neck. You tried to let him look but felt worry as the twins clearly seemed to be caught off guard by the strength of the Feral Erikír.

As Azul's hand glowed your throat slowly felt like it was clearing, but it was obvious the octopus needed to join the twins against Erikír. You tried to keep at least one of them between you and the now Feral prince, noticing the way the twins played off of one another even in the fight. Azul seemed to be more on the defense as he blocked the large waves of ink thrown at the four of you. Both twins moved together but even their combination of attacks didn't seem to deter the large Merman who was rampaging.

Azul hissed as one of those inky blobs sliced past his cheek, blue blood seeping down from the injury. Azul took a quick glance at you before his body began to change, his pants ripping from his figure as dark black tentacles burst forward. The juxtaposition between the Trident wielding Octopus and the Trident wielding Feral prince was not lost on you as Azul turned his full attention forward, each tentacle wielding perfect copies of his original weapon.

The beast shrieked again at the increased attacks but you couldn't focus on him as the sound of more footsteps came from behind you. You had hoped it was someone familiar at best, and at worse a member of either school, but those approaching were strangers. Their eyes reminded you of Lilia and Malleus, as did their ears, but they were all staring at you. They didn't wear the uniform of either school so you knew these had to be the Fae poachers Erikír spoke of before you escaped him.

Azul couldn't deal with both threats at once and you held a hand to the Magestone on your neck.

"..."

~•§•~

On the field fought two Housewardens, going neck and neck. Despite the difference in strength, Malleus was willingly holding back. If for nothing more than to give his beloved Human a good show. You had seemed actually excited about watching the game and he wanted to ensure you had a chance to enjoy yourself. Leona took the opportunity with both hands and the scores were tied up. As they prepared to start the game once again, a sudden voice split through Malleus' mind, so filled with fear that flames ingulfed the dragon completely.

"Malleus Draconia!"

Voices screamed out in surprise as the Dragon tore from his tame form and into the scaled hide of his full Draconic figure. Flames leaped from his throat as the beast turned to the beacon of magic that called for his aid, launching himself into the wall of the arena and breaking through the side of the building far too easily. The Dragon clawed into the breach before pulling back, dropping from the wall with a soft figure held in his jaws as he coasted on leathery wings.

Following behind the Dragon was a large burst of black ink, flowing forward towards the Dragon. As he landed, he set the little figure down with the utmost care between his claws. The beast stood with wings spread wide, smoke rolling out of his mouth as the beast hissed towards the approaching darkness.

Screams and gasps escaped the crowd as the clearly Feral Merman leaped out. Within the wall of the arena, it was clear there was a fight taking place inside. Confusion almost reigned before a pair of Harpies flew out from the side of the arena and onto the field. Both Harpies were well known celebrities and it was clear the smaller of the pair was leaning heavily on the other.

The watching Housewardens also joined the field, a lovely Unicorn leaping into the scene with the pink-haired Bakeneko on his back, also seeming worse for wear. A large Drider joining the field with a small winged feline in his arms. Despite the sudden appearance of the clearly Feral mage, several figures joined the inked beast's side against the Dragon. Standing with wide eyed determination, several Fae stood trying to stand against their prince for the promise of their own Human.

"You dare oppose your prince? Flee and I won't hunt you. Stay, and you burn with the Feral."

The Dragon's voice boomed loudly, making several of the opposing Fae flinch sharply from the tone and force. A few even backed away fearfully, turning to flee the intense glare of the scaled beast.

The inky beast didn't care that it faced a Dragon, trying to launch that same dark liquid at the beast who merely shrugged it off, every attack rolling off the scales harmlessly. With a quick whip of his tail, the inky beast was sent spiraling back after every failed attack, screaming in increasing frustration. Forming in the throat of the Dragon was rolling green flames, flickering and rising up in intensity as the great Dragon moved his claws, holding his precious treasure securely and safely. After all, what could truly harm a Dragon?

A sudden burst of white and black feathers exploded onto the arena, both Headmages stepping in the now forming battlefront in an attempt to keep the peace. Any Fae that tried to run was quickly caught by vines that exploded from the field, joined by more until the Fae was overwhelmed by the plants. Shadowed and Snowy feathers danced as combined blasts of magic overwhelmed and forced the Feral Merman down.

Thankfully, the interjection of the Headmage was enough to stay the flame of the Dragon, though it was clear he wanted to scorch the prince. He hissed and slammed his tail in what could only be described as predatorial frustration. The Dragon wanted nothing more than to protect his prized treasure with murderous levels of strength, the Harpies only somewhat soothing his rage.

"Malleus?"

Your voice was small but rang loudly in the Dragon's head, compelling the large beast to look down at where you were curled in his claws. The soft figure of his Human was a soothing one and seemed so much smaller in his claws. It soothed him more than he could describe to know he held his prized treasure securely and safely.

Even one Feral was too many, two? Unacceptable by any stretch.

"I am here, my (Y/n). I'm here."

The scaled beast dropped his head, opening his claws to gaze down contently. He could see no injury on his beloved and it soothed him more than believed possible.

"I care not for this game any longer. My Hoard takes priority. Where is the kit?"

Rook came over with a groggy and still magically impacted Grim. The Dragon allowing the arachnid to place the kit in his claws, back where he belonged with the adored Human. That fish would face consequences and Malleus wanted to be the one to perform it. But that could be handled later, as could the repairs to the arena. Now he needed to enjoy the simple comfort of knowing he got to his adored Human before anyone could hurt her.

All was as it should be.

[sagegreenconverse73946]

Analysis of Would You Fall In Love With Me Again

No no because you don't understand . . . .

There's like 3 ways I look at Penelope and Odysseus's reunion in Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

One:

Odysseus is pleading with her, begging her to understand that he is not the same man she married. He's done horrendous things, he is void of mercy and compassion. He. Is. Not. Odysseus. And that's why he's asking her if she would fall in love with him after knowing all the things he's done. He thinks she will have to fall in love with a different person. And hearing this instead of Penelope going like, " I don't care about what you've done; you're home now. That's all that matters." She instead asks him "What have you done?" she knows that he just has to get it out there, and once he does, once he thinks he's cemented to her that he's not Odysseus, Penelope's response is that "If that's true, if your not my husband, if your nothing more than a monster and not Odysseus, than do me a favor to bring me some peace and move our wedding bed away from here." And we've established that the wedding bed, the olive tree, is a symbol of their love, so Penelope's really asking, "If that's true and you're not my husband anymore, then destroy our love and cast it away." AND WHEN ODYSSEUS GOES, "How could you say this? Do you realize what you have asked me? The only way to move it is to cut it from ITS ROOTS!" which translates to "How could you say this? Do you realize you have asked me to destroy our marriage? The only way to move it is to KILL OUR LOVE!!"

AND ITS SO IMPACTFUL BECAUSE PENELOPE IS PROVING TO HIM THAT EVEN IF HE HAS CHANGED, HE IS STILL HER HUSBAND BECAUSE HER HUSBAND WOULDN'T DARE TO DESTROY THEIR LOVE AND CUT ITS ROOTS, AND THE MAN IN FRONT OF HER DOESN'T DARE EITHER, IN FACT HE'S ENRAGED THAT SHE'D ASK HIM TO FORSAKE THEIR LOVE, TO DO THE IMPOSSIBLE. BECAUSE IF HE TRULY WASN'T ODYSSEUS ANYMORE HE WOULDN'T HOLD THAT LEVEL OF LOVE FOR PENELOPE ANYMORE. AND THAT'S WHY SHE SAYS

"Only my husband knew that, so I guess that makes him YOU!!"

Penelope dismantled his whole argument. He asked if she would fall in love with him again, the new monstrous man that holds Odysseus's face. Penelope proved she didn't have to fall in love with him again, since he is still the man she knew, because if he wasn't the man she fell in love with, than that monster would have been able to destroy their wedding bed, and cut the roots of their love. But he is, because the man she married can't destroy their love, ODYSSEUS can't destroy their love,

their love is such a vital essence of his being that no matter what, if he still holds love for Penelope he is still Odysseus.

AND PENELOPE STILL SAYS SHE WILL FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM OVER AND OVER AGAIN

Two:

More Odyssey-accurate, I think. (I haven't read it through yet so I might need to eat my words)

Penelope asks, "Is that really you?" and it could be that she thinks its a trick at first, someone's disguised themselves as Odysseus mortal or god so she tests him. She asks him to do something only Odysseus and her knew was impossible, because for one man to cut down an Olive tree embedded into a palace alone is, quite literally, IMPOSSIBLE. If he had agreed and failed, mortal disguised as Odysseus. Succeeded? God.

Flabbergasted that she'd ask that of him? Odysseus.

Three:

EPIC Odysseus is the #1 Wife Guy, so when his wife asked him to do something that he physically COULDN'T, he broke down because GODS, NO, I'M A HORRIBLE HUSBAND BECAUSE I CAN'T FULFILL MY WIFE'S WISHES AND BRING HER SOME PEACE BUT PENELOPE WTF HOW COULD YOU ASK THAT OF ME AND EXPECT ME TO ACHIEVE IT?!?!?!

But yep, how I interpret those lines, honestly, I think its a mixture of all three MAINLY of perspective 1, a little bit of perspective 2, but l think despite Penelope's brain being like "We have to make sure." every essence of her being already knew it was him, and a slight hint of perspective 3 because it's funny.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk!!!

(pls discuss this with me if you want in the comments, guys I'm going insane)

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> kang yeosang x reader warning(s) -> mentions of abuse, words -> 1.2K

abstract -> "...I need to get used to it. feeling loved.."

y/n's perspective

“I can do–” “Yeosang” I said again and he smiled awkwardly. “Right, sorry” he said. 

His training was so hard to overwrite. Everything anyone does for him. He tried to repay. It was hard to find a way to break this cycle of expectations for him. 

He tries to find a way to pay me back and it saddens me… he asks what he can do with his sparkling eyes and a soft smile. 

“It’s hard… I feel like San and Wooyoung do a lot and I just sit around and look at your routines. It's… hard” he said and I nodded and ruffled his hair causing him to chuckle.

“Don’t feel bad, besides they decided to do that on their own. Wooyoung cooks because he likes it, and San helps me write because he likes my room. They're not doing it for an incentive… have you thought about doing sessions yet?” I asked. It was a suggestion Kun made last week. It's been a month with him around… and he said sessions would help him realize what he was used to wasn’t what I expected of him. 

“I don't know yet… believe it or not I don’t like being around people'' he said and I nodded. Wooyoung was still the one accompanying me outside the apartment despite his excitement. San wants me to have one of them around for safety… but Wooyoung gets distracted easily. 

“You don’t have to. I just want you to be comfortable here” I said with a smile and he nodded. “Y/nnie!!!” I heard Wooyoung run towards me and hug me.

“I need groceries,” he said calmly, making me laugh. “Let me get dressed, then,” I said and he nodded. “Can I go with you?” Yeosang asos, surprising me. “If you're okay with that,” I said and he nodded. “I'll stay here with San then,” Wooyoung said as he started writing what he needed. 

I went over to the window to see how it was outside. It was gloomy and rainy… 

“You should wear something warm” I heard as I saw yeosang was still with me. “Yeah, I know… besides the grocery store is also cold, '' I  said and he chuckled. “Do… you want help?” he asked and I smiled. 

“If you’d like to go ahead~”

I knew Yeosang knew fashion. He was a social media influencer… or the closest a hybrid could get to famous. He laid out a warm and comfortable outfit for me. 

“Maybe I should make you my stylist~” I teased as we were now in the elevator down to the grocery store. I noticed his ears twitching and his tail wagging slightly. “I would love to,” he said genuinely. It shocked me… I didn't question it, however…

As we made it outside he grabbed the umbrella to hold it over our heads. “Wooyoung gave you a big list,” he said and I chuckled. “Well we are the size of a family, and besides San and him eat a lot,” I said and he chuckled but I noticed his flushed look. “Family, huh?” he asked and I smiled. 

“Don’t you think?” I asked and he chuckled and gave me a wide smile. “I like to think so,” he said and I was happy he saw us that way. He got along well with San and Wooyoung. The two love to tease him. 

I noticed he was slightly getting wet making me grab his hand to put it in the middle. “You're gonna get wet” he whined. “But you're already getting wet, '' I said and he got closer. 

Yeosang… he was such a well-behaved hybrid. I sometimes wished he’d have a little fun and think selfishly. 

“Do you see how many bags there are?! Wooyoung, you should be more considerate” Yeosang scolded Wooyoung. We carried a lot of bags back to the apartment. 

“Ah… sorry” he apologized and I smiled. “It's fine, you’ll make us something tasty right?” I asked and he nodded as he started putting things away. 

“Give him a break, he didn’t do it on purpose,” I said when I saw Yeosang still sulking and he nodded. “He shouldn't be making you do too much,” he argued and I smiled. “I helped him with groceries… I did it because I wanted to, " I said and he chuckled. 

“I get it… you do these things without asking to be repaid” he said and I nodded. “Besides… I like doing my part around here. I know you want to help… but Wooyoung is the cook. He’s already kicked you out of the kitchen and San does his best to clean around here even if he hates it. I want to help… I do the same thing but Yeosang... You sometimes have to let people do kind things for you” I said and I noticed his eyes turn glassy.

“I'm fine, don’t worry… it's– I need to get used to it. Feeling loved I mean” he said and I smiled while hugging him. “You’re a part of our family now. Don’t push yourself too much, okay? We accept you just the way you are. We’re not asking for anything in return” I said and he nodded. 

“I sometimes feel that I suffered everything that I went through to meet you,” he said, shocking me and he chuckled. 

“I’ll forever be grateful for you, and I owe you a lot even if you say I don’t, '' he said and he grabbed my cheeks to kiss my forehead. 

“I’ll do the sessions. It’ll help me right?” he asked and I smiled. “You don't have to–” “I want to. I want to accept everything you give me. I want to do it to get over my old life” he said and I nod. 

“Anything you ask of me, I'll do my best to fulfill it” I said and he chuckled. 

“You really are an angel” 

Yeosang started sessions. Kun would give me reports every week on his progress and his mental status. He… wasn’t a happy hybrid. Not when she was his owner… He’s just as damaged as San, and just as scared of the future like Wooyoung. I tried my best for him… it's all I could do. 

He also thinks he hasn’t found a place in our little life. 

He’s definitely what San and Wooyoung needed. An older brother to play with… He also took the stylist thing I said seriously. He started planning my outfits… whether i'm going out, hanging out with the girls, or just staying at home. I would wake up to an outfit at the edge of my bed. 

It was… cute. 

Yeosang was now a crucial part of my routine… just like San and Wooyoung. 

Waking up to the three hybrids saying good morning in their own ways was reassuring. San would grumble good morning since he only wakes up early because Wooyoung threatened him with no breakfast if he woke up late. 

Wooyoung said good morning and gave me a hearty breakfast, while Yeosang would knock on my door to fix my hair and call me that nickname. Angel… I don’t understand why he sees me that way but I accepted it, like how I accepted him. 

I wouldn’t trade any of this for anything

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[writeyouin]

Bumblebee X Reader – Returned

Description – When Optimus told Bumblebee to fake his death, Bumblebee followed orders, choosing his loyalty to his leader over his love for you. Now, after returning to Earth, he regrets that decision and is trying to win you back.

A/N – Just a little Earthspark scenario I had in my head for a while. It changed somewhat when written down, but I like it.

Warnings – Mild angst (happy ending).

Rating – T

Bumblebee glanced at you, quickly looking back at Optimus when you met his gaze. From there on out, his optics stayed firmly fixed on his leader, too afraid of what he might see in your eyes.

The two of you had been in love once. Then, Optimus ordered Bumblebee to fake his death and to leave Earth. At the time, Bumblebee had asked about you, his spark-mate, but Optimus forbade him from telling even you about his mission. At the time, it had seemed reasonable, but now seeing you again, older, sadder, different yet somewhat similar, Bumblebee wished he had fought harder to keep you in his life. Granted, he valued little over Optimus’ leadership, but even great leaders could be wrong every once in a while.

“Meeting adjourned,” Optimus finished, having re-acquainted the team with Bumblebee and provided him with his mission with the Maltos.

It was then that Bumblebee knew he had to say something to you, an apology, a request to talk, anything, but when he looked over, you were already walking away.

“(Y/N),” He called your name and you stopped at your car, waiting silently for him to say what he had to say.

Bumblebee hadn’t expected the silent treatment. That was somehow worse than if you began screaming at him.

“I- I’m glad to see you again,” Bumblebee started hopefully, but by the way your expression closed off, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. “Look, I-” He went quiet as a Megatron drove past, feelin suddenly paranoid that a GHOST Agent might have followed the ex-warlord.

“I don’t have long,” He sighed. “But I’ll meet you at your place and we can talk.”

“Oh, can we?” You said, clapping your hands together sarcastically. “The great and almighty Bumblebee has time to talk to me?”

“Uhh,” Bumblebee stepped back nervously, even though there was nothing you could do to hurt him; your sharp demeanour was enough to make him nervous. “(Y/N), I-”

“I thought you were dead!” You huffed, tears in your eyes as you glared up at him, wishing you could be happy that he was back, but pained by the fact he had chosen isolation over you. “There was a funeral for you and I had to stand by as Optimus read your final rites. Oh, but silly me. You were alive all along and he knew it. That must have been a good laugh for the two of you.”

Bumblebee was speechless as you wrapped your arms around yourself, a sign you were feeling vulnerable.

“I loved you Bumblebee, and I would have done anything for you… I would have waited for you or gone to that damned space station with you. But I guess that was just me being naïve. You just didn’t feel the same, did you? I guess I wasn’t worth fighting for.”

Bumblebee reached his hand towards you, “(Y/N)-”

“Leave me alone Bee. Just do your mission and whatever else Optimus tells you. You’re good at that.” With that, you got into your car and drove away, heading home where you would be able to cry over all you had learned.

Bumblebee found the following weeks almost unbearable. He worked with the Malto-Bots. You also visited the Malto’s homestead from time to time, teaching the young bots about life on Earth and culture from your perspective; it helped the younglings to have someone else around who they weren’t related to, to listen to their problems, offer guidance, and generally be there for them.

Yet, when you visited, you were quiet and shut off around Bumblebee, treating him with professional courtesy and nothing more. Sometimes, it seemed like you hated him, but then your mask would slip and you would say something kind, reminisce over a private moment with him or laugh at one of his jokes only to excuse yourself afterwards and go back to that cool professionalism which he hated.

He knew he had hurt you and he couldn’t expect things to go back exactly the way they were. He had changed, as had you, but by Primus, he wanted you back. Well, if that was going to happen, then he knew he had to go back to basics. Flowers and a moonlit walk were a good place to start. It wouldn’t solve all of your shared problems, but it would make his intentions clear and hopefully break the ice that had formed in the years you had been apart.

Bumblebee held the bouquet he had picked for you by his side, trying not to gesture too wildly while he practised his speech on the walk to the farmhouse GHOST had provided for you.

“I think you should try forgiving me-” He shook his helm, “No, that sounds like I’m blaming them. Okay, things have been hard the last few years but I think we should give it another shot and- That’s not it.”

Bumblebee vented air through his systems, taking a minute before trying again, all too aware he was running out of time to practice, “Look (Y/N), we still have to work together, and if we’re working together you can stand to be around me and-”

“And you think that’s a good enough reason to get back together?” You said incredulously, startling Bumblebee as you stepped out of your car.

“(Y/N)! Uh, no- I mean- I wanted to- That wasn’t the final speech- I thought you were inside,” He pointed accusingly at your house, stammering, “I-I mean, I was supposed to have more time and- and- These are for you!” He thrust his servo at you, showing off his bouquet.

You raised an eyebrow bemusedly, “That’s ragwort.”

“Yes?” Bumblebee agreed uncertainly, hoping you liked ragwort since you knew what it was.

“It’s poisonous.”

“ARGH!” Bumblebee threw the weeds to the ground, crushing them with his pede. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Obviously.”

“Are you mad?”

You allowed yourself a small mirthful smile, “At this? No.”

“And at me?”

Your smile faded, “Jury’s still out. It depends on what you’re going to say in the final draft of that speech you were practising.”

“Right…” Bumblebee deflated. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He expected that the right words would come out, just like they used to when he visited you in days long gone. He opened his mouth, trusting his spark to lead him to the right words, “I- I miss you.”

You looked sad at that. “I know, Bee. I miss you too, but it’s not enough. I’m sorry.”

You turned away from him, ready to retire inside for the night.

“Wait,” Bumblebee begged, “Please.”

You hesitated, giving him your full attention, despite the pain he was causing you.

“I miss you,” He said again. “I miss us. I wish I could turn back the clock and that I’d fought harder for you but… But I can’t. All I can do is try to make things right, now. I was an idiot back then. I’m still kind of an idiot, but I want us to be together and I want to fight for this. Please, just tell me there’s a chance and I’ll do anything. I love you. I always have.”

You stared up at Bumblebee warily, wanting to lower your defences but scared that if you did, he would leave you again or worse, that he might actually die this time. Yet, as you opened your mouth to reject him, the words wouldn’t come out.

However, you couldn’t readily accept him either. Your relationship with him was in an odd state of limbo. There was too much history to start anew, but you couldn’t simply pick up where you left off.

Looking into Bumblebee’s desperate optics, you knew you had to make a decision immediately.

You sighed, “Look, I’m not promising anything but let’s- Let’s go for a walk and see where the night takes us.”

Bumblebee’s expression lightened, a smile forming that made your heart flutter with a whirlwind of happy memories. Just like that, you knew that he would win you back, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t make him work to build up your trust in him first.

[eee-lordy]

Make It Up

Jacob comes home from filming to comfort his increasingly insecure girlfriend. 1k

───※ ·❆· ※───

Jacob had been away long enough for you to feel the impact of how alone you really were. Of course, you were glad he was off living his dream. You couldn't have been happier for him, actually.

But Jacob was always good at changing your perspective when he was around. Not that you needed anyone to tell you who to be. But Jacob always knew just what to say. He listened to you, he didn't diminish your feelings, and he was a master at getting you to see your insecurities in a different light, all the while.

But he was gone, and your mind seemed to run a little more frantically each day. As you got ready for work, all the bits about yourself you liked least stared back in the mirror. Nothing you seemed to tell yourself made much of a difference. 

So you just pretended it wasn't happening at all, for a while. When he called, all you focused on how happy he sounded. You let Jacob tell you all about his wonderful time on set and the people he'd gotten to know, your own worries lost as he reminded you of good things.

And when Jacob's film wrapped up, and he and his castmates toured about chatting to press in their Sunday best, you caught bits of one of those interviews on the morning news.

Your boyfriend was absurdly attractive, and he fit right in between equally as pretty actors and directors. You'd usually drool as he lit up the screen, but this time was different. As his castmates all squished together on one big couch you couldn't help but notice how lovely the girl next to Jacob seemed. She had the perfect face, and an even better body and she looked so natural there next to him. Jacob somehow seemed even more handsome when your focus shifted back to his way.

That's who he deserved by his side, you thought. Someone just as beautiful and illuminating as Jacob himself. Not you.

While you went about your week, your insecurity seemed to be bubbling to a boiling point. When Jacob video called, you reached for a sweater before answering, in case any of his beautiful castmates were around to see the poor excuse of a girlfriend he had back home. 

"One more day and we can get back to normal." Jacob sighed, lounging alone in some hotel bed, lily white sheets looking like heaven wrinkled around him.

"Yeah, normal." You shrugged. A glimmer of hope fizzed in your chest at the thought. Your insecurities had never been so intrusive before, so it felt criminal to address them at all. It wasn't Jacob's fault that everyone he worked with was some kind of supermodel. You knew you had to get yourself in check before he got back, tomorrow. Maybe once Jacob was home, he'd distract you from your own thoughts long enough for you to forget them altogether.

That's exactly what you tried to practice as you prepared to see him again. 

When Jacob showed up in the front doorway at long last, the only worry you had was closing the gap between you. He dropped his luggage and lunged in for a kiss. Two Kisses. There, four, five.

"I missed you too." You joked when he pulled away to catch his breath. He laughed before pressing another quick kiss to your cheek and tugging you across the house. His luggage had been abandoned in the entryway as he mentioned something about being utterly exhausted. You followed close behind through the bedroom door, lost in the haze of how giddy you were to have his hand in yours once again.

"I kept dozing off on the plane and dreaming of finally sleeping in my own bed. But I suddenly just want to tell you everything, love." Jacob beamed as you flipped off the bedroom light, leaving a lamp to glow from the corner.

"I won't stop you. I can't wait to hear everything." You assured with a smile. Jacob looked so sleepy, with his droopy dark eyes and slouched shoulders. But his smile was radiant as he went on to tell you some story of the night he and his castmates got kicked out of a bar. 

"We all had such fun. I wish you could've been there, my love." Jacob cooed, crossing the room to start getting ready for bed. He kicked his trousers off toward the hamper as he went on yammering. 

"I absolutely can't wait to take you to all the premier parties and things. I'm dying to show you off."

You'd been circling in search of where you'd left your pj's when you registered what Jacob said. You stopped in your tracks, thanking the heavens that your back was to Jacob as you tried to suppress the sudden wave of insecurity. 

You felt so unimpressive. No, worse. You felt horrid. And all the work you'd done to forget how badly you'd been feeling crumbled as all your self-conscious thoughts bombarded you at once. 

You felt worried to be seen at all, and next to your stone-carved deity of a boyfriend no less. The worst of it was, you knew this was stupid. You knew most of your thinking was skewed, but it didn't stop you from feeling so insecure.

"Babe?" Jacob called from somewhere closer than before. You sucked in a breath, hoping an answer would effortlessly escape afterward. But all you could manage was a frustrated whimper.

"I know it's dumb... but I feel like shit." You explained turning to face Jacob. He had already been looking toward you with a furrowed brow. After you shakily admitted how you'd been feeling, a frown pulled at his lips.

"Huh? You-" He started, shifting a little closer to you. But once you'd given yourself the spotlight, you had to finish explaining yourself before you lost the courage.

"You're like... a fucking statue and you should be out with someone just as beautiful, like one of those pretty little things you fit so well with on the screen. I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you and I'm sorry this is so dumb but-"

"Oh, my love, no. No, listen to me." Jacob took a few steps to meet you in the middle, His deep dark eyes pierced into yours as he tangled both of his hands in your hair.

"You're a vision. You're so beautiful and I want you with me and near me always. I want you." Jacob stressed each word and searched your eyes, and you knew he was sincere. You half expected him to roll his eyes and say something about how sick he was of hearing you complain, like so many of your partners had in the past. But Jacob was different.

"You're too good to me." You spoke, somewhere between feeling genuinely thankful for his abundance of care and feeling completely unworthy of it. 

"You're perfect. Everything about you is exceptional and divine."

Jacob softly gushed all while he took a gentle grasp of your hips to pull you to the bed he walked back towards. As he sat, you settled into his lap without missing a beat, somehow magnetically moving to be close to him. 

"I'm sorry I've been away. I wish I could've spent my days telling you how much I love and adore you. I'm sorry I never say it enough anyway."

"Oh, Jacob." You cooed, searching his starry eyes. "I'm sorry I'm so difficult." You felt moved to sweep up your dramatics. 

"You're not difficult. I happen to find you very easy to adore." Jacob's fingers trailed slowly up your sides while his eyes stayed happily glued on yours. He was so brilliant at making sure you felt comfortable. Content. Wanted.

"Now you're just being ridiculous." You mewled, resting your forehead against his. He couldn't possibly be so full of compliments. He must have just been trying to calm you down.

"It's true my love. You're stunning. Remember that outfit you wore to last year's family Christmas? We were late to the party because I simply couldn't handle how good you looked that night. Nearly had a heart attack. Really! Your beauty takes my breath away to the point of medical emergencies I swear it."

Okay, so maybe Jacob was just as dramatic as you.

"I wore it cause it covered up everything nicely." You rolled your eyes with a small smile at his efforts to make you feel better.

"What's underneath is even nicer, love," He whispered in a soft grit, eyes still locked on yours. You nearly lost yourself in the tender moment.

All you could do was kiss him then, not having to move much, just exchanging a long-lasting peck that made up for all your lost words. 

Jacob kissed you back a little harder, but not by much. Even as things transitioned into something physical, they stayed soft. It seemed Jacob was still communicating with you, gentle taps and touches asking permission to linger longer. You responded in your own way, with sinking closer to him with contented sighs.

Your kisses stayed slow, but steadily grew deeper until you had to part to take a breath.

"I never want to be away so long ever again," Jacob quietly whined as you brought a hand to his pretty face, wondering how you got so lucky in love. 

"How I've missed you." You let a grin blossom to your lips as you realized you didn't have to miss him any longer. Jacob gazed to you with darkened eyes that broke away from yours for the first time to search your face.

"Let me make it up to you, my love?" He asked, the whisper nearly caught in his throat. You quirked a hopeful brow as your hands trailed under his old T-shirt. He tossed it to the ground as you leaned in for another small kiss. Jacob took his time pushing your top away, nipping at your neck and shoulder as you let your shirt fall to the ground.

That's when he secured both strong arms around you, moving to lay you back against the pillows.

He settled on top of you and the weight brought you the encompassing comfort you'd been missing. You trailed a hand across his warm skin, delighted by the feeling. Jacob reached for the waistband of your trousers while he returned to kissing your neck, leaving burning a trail down your throat.

"I love everything about you. I feel so lucky." Jacob sighed, "I am lucky." He nodded with a look to you.

 He went on saying things like that, not just to fill your head, but to drive home how dearly he actually cared for you. He seemed to take account of every bit of you, sending shivers down your spine and even scoring a breathy giggle or two. And when you tried to move on a mission to make sure he was feeling just as lovely as he'd been making you feel, he wouldn't let you. 

Jacob kept a gentle hold on you and made you feel exceptionally wonderful, beautiful and admired. As his touch grew hotter and his hold grew tighter, you decided that so long as Jacob seemed to think you hung the moon, you didn't care about the stars off in the distance. He was the sun that shone light to your darkest parts, and your world was so much better off that way. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Requests are open ♡

[angelwhisp3rs]

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒 obsession

Pairing: ID!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Training the rookies was a pain until he met her. His sweetest new obsession, he wouln't stop till he was buried deep inside her.

Tags: smut, fluff, age gap (not too much! i imagined leon being 37 and the reader being 23-25, so everyone is legal and consenting! Its not his age in ID but i use it only bc of the character background), p in v, eating out, riding, breeding kink, leon is obsessed!, a small housewife kink.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ on repeat: exo - obsession

Notes: Got too excited and posted without proofreading it! If i missed anything, please let me know so i can correct it! Also, when will tumblr make a pastel pink theme for the dashboard? I hate that everything we have is either a sad/gloomy hipster or raging gothic theme.

From all his years working at the D.S.O, Leon was stressed pretty much all the time, never catching a break, too exhausted. That showed on the increasing wrinkles forming from his frowns, and the occasional white hair that appeared on top of his head. In his non-existent breaks, he had another thing on his belt: training the new agents.

At first, it was a pain in the ass, watching those morons do the same mistake over and over, it really made Leon think it was getting too easy to be a D.S.O agent. Some repeated the same mistakes over and over again, and because of it, Leon frequently lost his patience, soon getting known as a hardass. 

As time went by, he began losing hope for the future of the department, until she came through. Pretty body, voice as soothing as a canary and delicious lips that called for him. And the best thing was that she was better than all of these morons, throwing down even the experienced rookies.

Since Ada, Leon didn’t know what it was like to be this obsessed with a woman. He wanted to know her next step, have her by his side all the time, know how her soft skin feels underneath his rough fingertips. He dreamed of her, and caught himself checking her out more than he should. Chris always teased him in private, telling him “his star student is making him turn back to his twenties”. God, they had a small age gap, but thinking about it only made his cock throb. Maybe dealing with rookies made his mind turn him back to his twenties.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As their “graduation” got closer in time, all the new agents began training more, but none were like her. She came in first and left after all of them, always using the training gym by herself the most she could. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Leon offered private training, becoming a private tutor to her.

Instead of making things easy, it just caused him to become even more addicted to her - he now knew her thoughts, her quirks and her perspectives. As they spent more and more time together, it was clear that she found him attractive too - he knew he was still successful with women, after all (even if he was more dumped than anything). Leon had cemented in his mind that he needed her, and now he just needed to find a way to approach her.

She will be all his.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

One of the nights, he had to spend in his office reading and filing boring documents, Leon heard a gentle knock on his door. “Come  in” he simply answered, and to his surprise - and excitement, it was his little star. She entered his office, and her usual sparkly eyes were dull, the poor thing was too tired, working herself too much.

“What happened, rookie? You look exhausted. Working too much to bring me down?” Leon said with a smirk

“Ha, you wish, sir.” Oh, how that term made his pants tighten. “I just came for help, I don’t know. I’ve been focusing on sharpening my skills for the admission test, but I don’t know…” she said unsure

“Hey, don’t tell the rest, but you’re the only one that I would bet on getting in” he reassured her, standing up and taking a seat beside her in his couch “You’re too much in your head, agent”

“I know, I just can’t turn it off…” she whined, making Leon think how she would sound if he made her cum around his cock 

That 's it. That was Leon’s chance to get his favorite student. He put a hand on her thigh, not too close to her precious cunt and said quietly to her “It’s alright, sweetheart… I can help you, if you want”

She knew where this was going, and it turned her on more than she thought. Feigning innocence, she pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, nodding “But… How, sir?” and looked at his lips

Leon smiled, caressing her jaw “let me fill your mind, rookie. Why don’t you sit at my desk, hm?” 

She stood up and slowly went to his desk, sitting on it and letting her head fall to the side, as if to question him “what’s next?” with her body language. Leon follows her, standing between her legs and letting his hands caress the outer side of her thighs. His face lowers to her neck, his kisses and his stubble causing a warm sensation to run through her skin. A soft gasp left her lips, her hands caressing the back of his head.

Feeling him smirk against her skin, he kept placing slow and gentle kisses, adding some nibbles on the mix “That’s what my best student needs, right? A real man to touch her”

He lays her on his desk, pushing his papers aside, pulling her hips into his - his cock adding a nice weight to her sensitive wetness. He slowly pushed her shirt up, watching her beauty for a moment “You’re perfect, baby”. As he whispered the praise, her cheeks blushed more, a soft giggle leaving her lips. He finally kissed her lips and both were hungry for each other, to quench the thirst they had been accumulating after months. 

Leon swiftly undoes her bra, not wasting any time and circling his tongue around her nipples, sucking and lightly nibbling it. Underneath him, her breath quickens, as she whines freely as he teased her. Trying to ease their ache, Leon grinds their centers together, his cock so hard that his zipper presses against his member.

Soon, he removed her pants, kissing as her skin showed - inch by inch. Again, his stubble creates goosebumps in her legs, as he worshiped her body - she deserved it, after all, he wanted to make her addicted to him and his taste. Watching her panties so drenched as they were glued to her pussy, he couldn't help but nuzzle into her bundle of nerves, causing a gentle jump on her. He kissed and licked the wet spot, as if trying to eat her up. 

“F-fuck, please take them off, sir” she whined, not even realizing that she kept the term. Leon, deciding that he wasn’t in a teasing mood, guided the clothing down, letting his pretty star all spread on his desk - his to take, to tease, to fuck, to breed. 

“Shit, baby girl, you are so wet for your teacher… you wanted me to take you, right? You wanted me to go crazy and drench my face with you. huh?” He teased her as he got on his knees, aligning his face against her cunt. She was so red, puffy and wet, not even the most delicious candy could compare to her.

His tongue tasted her at first with kitten licks, causing a loud moan to rip from her mouth. “Keep quiet, sweetheart. We don’t want anyone coming here and seeing you spread out like a needy slut, right?” at his comment, and as if teasing her, he finally sucked and rolled his tongue around her clit, letting his index finger circle her wet entrance. Almost as if she was distressed, she cupped her mouth with her hand, rolling her eyes back at the pleasure. 

Pushing his finger forward, slowly, until he's entirely inside her, he kept eating her out with gusto, as if he was a starved man. Soon, what was one finger turned into two, her juices were flowing through his palm as he began to be more desperate for her - but he wouldn’t stop till she let him taste her entirely. “It feels good, doesn’t it, my doll? I’m the only man and only one for you, gonna make sure to keep this pussy satisfied till I die”.

His fingers and mouth worked more ferociously, pussy drunk wasn’t even close to describe how he was feeling.On the other end, she had tears in her eyes as one hand didn’t leave her mouth as the other one tugged his hair hard, making him moan against her drenched cunt. “S-sir, o-oh g-god…need to c-cum!” she pleased, looking down at him with glazed eyes.

“Do it, baby girl, give it to me” he ushered her, maintaining the pace till she finally coated his fingers, tongue and mouth with her essence. As her ‘little death’ came, she felt as if fireworks erupted inside her mind - none of her exams daring to creep up on her mind.

He praised and marked her thighs as she came down from her high. The girl pulled Leon into a passionate kiss, smiling in contentment, reaching cloud 9000. Pulling away, she whispered against his lips “Let me repay you, Leon. Wanna make you feel just as good”

“Not today, doll.” He whispered, sitting back in his chair and pulling his pants and underwear down, patting his lap “I know how to help you even further”, he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

Like an excited bunny, she hopped off his desk and jumped into his lap, resuming her kisses on his mouth - casually descending into his jaw and neck, enjoying the pleased hums that he lets out. He palmed her ass and firmly grabbed it, giving some gentle smacks as she had his fun with him. To Leon, in all of his life, that was his happiest moment: having his pretty princess on his lap, all naked, hypnotized in kissing and feeling him up. 

“Go ahead, baby, let me finally empty your mind and use you” he calmly ordered her, caressing her cheeks adoringly. Soon, she positioned herself and slowly sat down on his cock, rolling her eyes back and holding into his chair behind him. 

“S-so b-big…” she moaned, her head falling into his shoulders as the girl swallowed all of him. She was so tight, wet and perfect, Leon almost came deep in her cunt just by her inserting him. His head got dizzy for a moment, his hold on her ass tightening, as he grunted and pressed his eyes closed. 

Dedicatedly, she began jumping up and down on his cock, their skin slapping as the woman looked directly into his eyes. If anyone saw them at that moment, they would attest that both had heart in their eyes. her tits jumped up and down in front of him, making his tongue and fingers play with them as the couple lost their minds in pleasure.

“Good job, doll… jumping on my cock like the good girl you are… it’s all for you, always for you” he said rambling in pleasure,  busying his mouth to tell her praises and roll her sensitive nipples on his tongue, as her cunt drenched his cock, causing a white ring at the base.

Holding tightly into the back of his chair, her hips worked even faster on him, making Leon moan more frequently in pleasure, slapping her ass, leaving behind his handprints on her pretty skin. His head falls back as he watches the goddess in front of him taking what's hers and milking his cock into her hungry pussy. He would make sure that she passed her admission check, so every end of shift he would breed her cunt, till she is finally all of his - the mother of his children, his pretty wife. But that’s a talk for later.

After some minutes pass, Leon takes over and thrusts from below, making her body turn into his own ragdoll, her moans flowing freely into his mouth. Some minutes passed, and both were on the brink of their orgasm, so close to reaching their true paradise “Will you let me fill you, doll? Make your womb so full of me, gonna make you get home with me drenching on your legs” he taunted her.

Not handling much more teasing, and his words serving as a catalyst to her peak, she nods and coats his cock with her sweet arousal, biting down on his shoulder to drown out her sounds. Her roughness and the new tight hold on his cock makes him spill into her gummy walls, emptying himself. Finally, he marked her as his. His doll, his love, his property.

Both were coming down from their highs, trying to control their breathing, letting their heartbeat slow down. He caressed her hair, kissing her cheeks and nuzzling their noses together, all smiles. “So, did I help?” he asked jokingly.

“Didn’t even know why I came here” she answers teasingly.

From now on, Leon would never be exhausted for the wrong reasons ever again.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

It felt so real.

What - Yearning. Daryl misses you and your family so badly that it seems his imagination is dreaming you up to keep him from going crazy

When - big time jump to when Daryl finds himself in France (spinoff season 1, episode 2)

Where - the school in France

Pronouns - she/her (howdy, wife reader!)

TWs - language, reference to child loss, self-loathing, sappiness (it's fanfiction, y'all XD ) and Daryl gets a little...'excited' (mild instance of sexual arousal between a married couple)

Perspective - Daryl 3rd person POV

References - some are yet unpublished because this is a significant time skip, which means a few little surprises. Others can be found throughout the series!

Series? - the Slowpoke Series! It's a fun, slow time that sticks to canon to help maintain immersion (as much as you can with adding an oc lol) ;)

Can I read this chapter if I haven't started any part of the Slowpoke Series yet? - definitely

----------------------------

----------------------------

“It's so good to hold you again, sugar.”

Those words, that voice, made him relax into the bed. She was there again! He’d last imagined her when he was being tended to by those nuns, so it was only, what, a handful of days ago?

Wasn’t enough for him, he missed her so much.

“Dare, I want them all. Full stop, every last one.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I knew you’d say that.”

“As if you aren’t wantin’ to take at least a handful. All those kids with just an old woman to care for them…well, now she’s dead, but…” She sighed and held him tighter. “Lou reminds me of Enid. Don’t you think they look similar? M’sorry her name had to be Lou. A lot of things over here are making you homesick, ain’t they? And that poor boy in Maine, named TJ, too.”

He pulled her closer, doing his best to not wake himself up so Y/N would stay with him. He wished that kid, with same name as his oldest, has just gone back to his girlfriend like he'd told him to.

“Our own Louise lights a candle with me for you every day. Those nuns would be proud.”

He swore to himself that whenever these dreams happen, there’s got to be some way it isn’t just all in his head. It was way too real.

It felt so, so real.

But that Louise was lighting candles for him, he knew because Carol told him when she spoke to him briefly over the radio in Maine...

“Did Carol also mention that Lydia’s been drawing you? Or did I write part that in the letter?”

“The letter. Carol and I didn't have much time to say anything.” Y/N wrote him a long, long letter. One part mentioned how both Lydia and Glenn took to getting nightmares again after he left. At Maggie’s suggestion, Lydia had been drawing his picture. Apparently it helps her feel safer.

RJ had been 'retreating more than usual,' also. Adam was acting out, too, so she wrote. If Daryl was figuring it right, the boys losing another father figure probably hadn’t helped.

“Dare, he’s three. Three-year-olds don’t only act out with foster parents, Adam would be doin’ the same with Alden. And RJ is without Michonne right now. That's the greater culprit.”

His wife also wrote how Coco just started calling her ‘mama,’ and correcting her to say ‘auntie’ wasn’t working yet. She chalked it up to her being a motherly figure and the baby assuming all caring ladies were ‘mama.’ He wondered if Gabe knew yet. Ain’t like Y/N hasn’t been a mama to that little girl since Rosita died. Actually, nah, Gabe obviously knew; Y/N would’ve (legit) run to him immediately and told him what was up.

The faces of all their kids ran through his mind over and over, Lydia and Judith and RJ included. Then his wife’s face. Carl. Adam. Hershel. Gracie. Coco. Carol. Ezekiel. Maggie. Rosita. Aaron. Jesus. Jerry. Rick. Merle. T-Dog.

“Oo, I want to be here when T-Dog visits. Has he ever visited?” Y/N chirped.

He wished. “Once. I just think about him a lot.”

“Bummer. He must have been so thrilled when we actually did name our first after him, without you even tellin’ me nothing about how he’d teased you on it! Say, what about Uncle Jesse? Does he visit? He must’ve been happy TJ’s middle name is for him!”

He shook his head. You even visited me before I was smart enough to fall for you. When I fell down the ridge. It was you and Merle.

A sneezing from one of the kids in another part of the building resounded four times. It woke him briefly.

He closed his eyes, focused…

It was okay, Y/N was there. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief.

“I am a mite surprised you didn’t take the floor anyway,” Y/N admitted, peeking over his side to look at where the nun Isabelle was laying down next to him. “Or share with Laurent so the two sisters could share.”

“Neither of them trust me enough for me to share a room with the boy. And she sounded like she didn’t want me on the floor. Must be that I’m gettin’ too old." All I feel these days is tired and sore. "Hell, I don’t think I could get up if I slept on the floor.”

Angel, I ain’t the same without you, I’m a fucking mess. Look at the shit show that I’ve made of things.

His wife whispered, “Hey. You know I can hear that, I’m from your imagination.”

“Y/N, I miss you so fucking much.” Baby, I’m so goddamned far from you all and I don’t know how I’m gonna get out this time.

“No cusses in front of the kids, Daryl,” She cupped her belly, the one he was imagining she might have again. Carol, when she spoke to him, used what little time there was to mention how Y/N was avoiding taking a test because she missed him too much. Y/N didn’t say nothing about it in her letter she'd packed in there during one of his home visits.

How’s that for a reason to hate yourself?

“You should,” shot back another familiar voice. “Leaving your own kin, leaving your woman. Ain’t you learned nothing, boy? Didn’t think you was that much of a deadbeat but here’s proof the apple didn’t fall far from the tree."

Merle.

Damn, it’d been ages!

"Yup. Nanu nanu," his brother mocked, waving his metal stump and glaring. "Here you are, in the white flag capital of the world, surrounded by Euro kooks instead of your own blood.”

“Oh, Daryl, don’t imagine him as cruel again!" Y/N cooed. "Let us both love you if you’re gonna go about having us here.”

Daryl breathed slowly so he wouldn’t wake up. When he felt level enough, he answered, “I don’t have much control over what y’all say.”

“I thought you had some control over it.” Y/N gently pushed his hair off his face. He loved it when she did that. Delicately, she examined the new scar gracing his forehead.

“I blame that old coot what you let whup you on the head as to why you’re seeing things,” his brother crooned.

His wife nodded. “Another concussion, you poor man. But this isn’t a hallucination, it’s just a dream. It’s that good kind of dream where you’re not fully awake but not fully asleep.” She trailed her hand along his forearm.

“Y/N, you’re too good for this sad sack.”

She fired back faster than Daryl knew his imagination could go. “Merle. You love your brother to death and you’re happy he got hisself a wife and family.” Y/N had pushed herself up to sitting in order to scold him. “Tell me you don’t swell with pride seein’ him be a good father and good husband. The cycle stopped with him, and you’re proud of it.”

Daryl, a hand protectively around his wife’s side, was busy trying to figure out what Merle was even doing, whittling?

Ah, he was eating an peach with the knife attached to his metal stump.

Weird, he thought ghosts didn’t eat.

“Maybe I ain’t a real ghost, retard,” was a blunt comeback. “Maybe I’m just a poor copy you conjured up in that concussed little head of yours.” Merle then turned to Y/N. “As for you, kitten, he left you and your brats! Left you when you was up the duff, left you when you don’t even got all your legs no more! How’s he supposed to protect you when he’s out here?”

“Merle William Dixon! I ain’t ‘kitten’ and those ‘brats’ are your nieces and nephews, dick. Noah’s middle name is even for you, so you best watch your mouth, hear?”

Merle smirked and sliced off another wedge from the peach. “There’s my sister-in-law. I had to make sure your square self at least still had that fire in ya.” He offered her a slice, but she crossed her arms.

The expression on her face was so disappointed it made Daryl’s chest tug.

His brother duly inclined his head in apology and raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right, ma’am. Y’all are doing a good job on them brats. And this sumbitch ain’t nothing like our old man, so there’s something.” Merle chopped another piece of fruit. “And it’s always a pleasure to roll with a fellow amputee, Y/N. Not many can relate to how trippy the phantom limb bullshit can get.”

She tilted her head in agreement, rubbed the spot above her prosthetic calf, and settled back down next to her husband with a big sigh. “I do wish Daryl imagined you in a kinder light, Merle, but, either way, I’m happy he watched Mork & Mindy because it got him thinkin’ about you — and now you’re here for him!” Her hand grazed along her bump. “And, you meant to say to him that I was possibly pregnant.”

“Dunno about that, sister, you’ve always seem to know when you been knocked up.”

“That ain’t incorrect,” she confessed, curling in on herself. “Even if I was, it’s possible we had a loss again, Merle. Whether early or late this time.”

“Another reason he shouldn’t be screwin’ around out here.” Merle next words sliced him as if his heart were the peach in his hands. “I'm angry for your own good, lady. What if you had to handle another kid dying, this time on your own?”

The bad memories crashed down like waves threatening to drown him in grief and guilt. He wanted to pummel his brother in the hopes Merle would best him and make him pay for leaving her.

But Merle wasn't actually there. Neither was Y/N. It was pretend. Daryl was just beating himself up in his head, and failing even at that.

Y/N said the words as Daryl thought them: “Why are you twisting the knife?” She swallowed and covered her face with her hands. “Maybe, this mission is w-worth the sacrifice of, of us not havin’ him here right now.”

No. It’s not.

I know you said that before I left to make it hurt less, but it’s not. Listen to your stutter, you know it ain’t.

I should be back there with you, not constantly leaving for weeks at a time. I'm supposed to be home now. I'd told Carol when I reached her on the radio back in Maine that I'd be there in a about a week, which is what she would've told you. This whole thing is horseshit!

“Darlin’, think on happier things or you’ll upset yourself awake or into another nightmare,” Y/N soothed. "You almost woke from anger at Merle just there, which is really just anger at yourself." Her fingers laced into his where his hand rested on her belly. His wish was that his dream would include feeling the baby move. He loved that feeling. Except, he must’ve been waking up because his dream wasn’t letting him feel her hand or her belly very much when he tried. Still, it felt real enough. He’d take what he could get.

“Might could be fun to think back on how beautiful it was making them, if indeed we made another one.” She walked two fingers along his bicep. “Would’ve happened on or around the last night before you left. Or,” she mused, then started to giggle. At that moment, he could even imagine the vibrations of her laughter as if she were really, actually laying beside him. It felt so real! “I wouldn’t be surprised if made them on the day itself, that was soo — oh man, hold up!” She pulled away from him and eyed his crotch in suspicion. “No sex dreams allowed, there’s a bride of Christ in the room! Keep that thing down, deal?”

He almost laughed out loud, and possibly in real life. So long as he didn’t wake up, he didn’t care if he laughed in his sleep. The reactions, the tone, it was all just like his Y/N. And he could hope they had another kid. He’d take as many as came along.

Aw, shit, how far would she even be along, if this one made it? How long had he been away?

“Goddamn, y’all, is this some kinda kink you got?” Merle cut in. “Me and the penguin are still here, you perverts.”

“Oh hush, neither of us are actually here. Him and me aren’t doing nothin’, he just got a little aroused,” Y/N countered. “And to answer your question about another baby, Daryl, I reckon you’ll find out when you come back.” She shrugged. “Unless you reach us on a radio? Eugene is diligent about it, especially now.”

That was another thing she wrote in her letter. Eugene and his radio.

The helplessness crashed back down on him. “I’m tryin’ babe.” He didn’t want to start crying. The nun was next to him and he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop crying once he started.

Merle jeered, “Try harder, Darylina.”

He was right, Daryl needed to. He needed to try harder! What kind of washed out fuck-up was he?

“Sweetheart,” his wife called softly. Her hand caressed his cheek. It felt so, so real. “Margaret — a woman who knows the pain of losing a husband — trusted this to you because you survive. And I trusted you to go, because you’ve got the brains, the balls, and the grit. You don’t die or get bit, Daryl, no. You always come home.”

Bullshit. Not this time.

“Not bullshit. Yes, this time.” She looked to the window. “Merle, back me up.”

“Based on your track record, she’s right, little brother.”

“You may not believe you can or will,” she lifted herself up on her hands and leaned forward to kiss him. It had to have been real. It felt so, so real. But he was not about to open his eyes to see if by some miracle it was. “Despite how you feel right now, my vote is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

Shit, he was about to break down. “Y/N, maybe I don’t deserve that. You saw the shit-show what got me here.” And there came the tears. “I left you, that’s all there is to this. I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, that word.” Y/N wasn’t a fan of the word ‘deserve.’ “On that topic, what an honest prayer you said to bless the food! So many times you used ‘deserve,’ ugh, but,” she paused, “God loves honesty like that. Very, very much.”

She kissed his eyelids where the tears were starting to slip out, kissed the scar that never seemed to fade, then settled back against the side of his chest and curled one leg around him. With her hand, she rubbed comforting circles along his torso. “And He don’t punish or withhold, that’s just our fallen world. His hand is always out for you,” she murmured. “Say, how long do you think you can keep up with imaginin’ my theology?”

“Angel, I’m already at my limit. That’s why part of me thinks you’ve gotta be here somehow, some parts of this feel so real. Smart stuff like this ain’t in my head.”

“TJ and Georgia would call out your self-hate if they could hear you. You’d owe them a lot of quarters. Hm, and euros, seeing as you're here.”

His chest tugged at their names. “How are they?”

TJ, their oldest besides Lydia, had long hair like the little French kid here. Just one other thing that ripped at Daryl’s heartstrings to make him ache so bad for home it shocked him that he wasn’t bleeding out.

“They’re as good as gold and better. Just like their father.” That phrase he knew was from his memory because she’d said it before. “All of us miss you like crazy. Postal level.”

You shouldn’t.

“Daryl.” Her hand gripped his. There’s no way it wasn’t real. It felt so real. “When I was broken after Carl's death, and I claimed the same stuff — that you should leave me and TJ, that you needed someone better, that your life would be better if we weren’t a part of it — how much did it rip you up? ’Cause even if I hadn’t told you this before, you would have to understand how it’s tearing my insides to shreds hearin’ you think the same.”

Calm. He had to stay calm or he’d be alone again.

“I’m right,” he whispered.

“I have to disagree.”

“I —” his voice went up. He switched tactics and spoke to his brother. “Merle, talk some sense into her. I failed. This is it, this is—”

“—You did screw shit up like a royal turd, but your lady would rip my danglers off if I went along with your pretty little pity party.”

Believe it or not, the tough love helped. Felt genuine, as if Merle really was shouting some sense into him. It felt so real.

He caught his wife giving Merle an air high-five. “Thank you, Merle.”

In hindsight, Daryl figured it must’ve be because Merle, in Daryl’s imagination, had to raise his metal arm to return the five. He taunted Y/N, “You’re welcome, peg-leg.”

Dream or not, Daryl was fixing to bark, but his wife playfully kicked her own prosthetic and taunted back, “Love you, gimpy.”

His brother was smug. “Square.”

As if Y/N hadn’t heard that before.“Trailer trash.”

As if Merle hadn’t heard that before. “Goody-two shoes.”

“Two shoes? Ahem,” Y/N drawled as prim and proper as a southern belle. “Did we not just establish how I only require but one shoe these days?”

Merle slapped his thigh and cackled like a hyena and Daryl couldn’t help but do the same. Y/N joked about her missing calf like she got paid for it, pirate jokes to no end.

Daryl hadn’t felt this light in months, not even close to it since leaving home.

…And to think, it was all a lie.

All fake.

They weren’t really there. Not his wife, not his dead brother. It was all in his head.

“Oh, my sweet mangy hick. Enough moping and angst, enjoy the moment! Merle and I really did a fair job on our banter just there. And you never know, Merle could really be here, seein’ as he’s dead.”

“Y/N, I even miss bickering with ya, goddamn,” he breathed.

“It is one of our love languages. That reminds me — you’re doing great with the French, Dare!”

She can’t be serious. Or, rather, he himself can’t be serious. “Babe, I ain’t spoken a word of it. The letters don’t matter half the time. I swear, these people sound drunk.”

Merle snickered, “Hell, even I speak better French than him. Voulez vous coucher av—”

“—Well, I meant like when you used the dictionary to translate that conjugated verb.” Her voice had gone down when she said this and it sounded, well…how it usually sounded when she was turned on. “If I were there, the part where I’d push your suspenders off your shoulders would drive me wild…”

Stay calm or you’ll wake up, Daryl.

And you realllly don’t want to start a sex dream with some other chick in the room. A nun!

“Get a room, horndogs. The word was ‘conjugated,’ not ‘conjugal,’” Merle spat. “This is why you got all them kids.”

His wife made one of her signature huffs, but didn’t say nothing back to Merle. Into Daryl’s ear, she sympathized, “Being horny is so annoyin’.”

Ha. Blushing even in his dreams. Part of him wondered if he was cracking up in his sleep, too, but either way, it felt good. Felt real. It felt so, so real. “I don’t even know what ‘conjugated’ means, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, otherwise I wouldn’t say it. I’m a figment of your imagination, remember?” Aw man, why’d she have to nuzzle him in the crook of his neck? He loved it when she did that. Mmm, hot damn it felt so real… “And you know that you doin’ something like conjugating a verb in another language would be sexy to me.”

“I told y’all jackrabbits to keep your britches on. Now, Daryl: ‘conjugate’ is when you make the verb agree grammatically with the subject. You’ve heard that word before,” Merle explained. Seemed out of character. And the room looked strange, there was—it was another room now?

Daryl’s thoughts turned to when Y/N and Rosita would speak Spanish. Listening as Judith helped TJ and RJ with phonics. Watching Georgia sing to baby Louise that song Siddiq had taught her in, what language was it?

“Hey. Dummy,” Merle scoffed. “You’re driftin’ off, sweet boy. Gotta stay a teensy bit lucid if you want us here.”

So that’s why the room had just looked different. He’d been slipping.

“I still don’t get how this happens, which is why I think you’re actually here,” Daryl said to both of them. “Merle, you’re probably in…somewhere in-between.”

“What, I don’t get to be in heaven yet? Y/N, you hearin’ this uppity sumbitch?”

“He still has trouble believing in such things, Merle, especially lately. I prayed for your soul, so I got hope.”

“Thank you, sister.”

“Anytime.” Y/N looked up at Daryl and smiled. “Then what about me, dude? I ain’t dead, pinky promise. So, how is it that I come to be here?”

Yeah, he’ll be as sappy as he wants with his wife of ten years. “Maybe you’re dreamin’ about me, too.”

Merle’s kissy noises were interrupted by Daryl firmly telling him to get out after which Y/N smooched him harder than she’d had in his imagination since he’d left America. The smell of her, the sounds she made, the way she would lift her head so he could bury his face in her neck, it all felt so real.

It was when she ran her hand lower down his abdomen and almost reached his you-know-what that it all stopped cold. “Sorry! Aw, shoot — Merle! Get back in here, quick, we got carried away! Well, t-technically it was all you, Dare, but — just, please don’t get a stiffy with a nun in the room!”

“Someone should put that on a shirt,” his brother called.

“Ew, no, Merle! Good Moses, maybe I really should ought to be there if you’re startin’ to imagine messed up t-shirt slogans.” She was only teasing. “Ooh, but if I were really there I could meet little Sister Sylvie! So far, I like her.”

“I knew you would.” Daryl grinned. “The way she is with the boy, she reminds me of you.”

If only you were really here, angel.

Wait, no, I don’t want you here because you wouldn’t be safe. I need you safe.

She brought his hand to her lips. “I know what you meant, sugar.”

Unexpectedly, the nun shifted on the bed, nearly jolting him fully awake.

Slow breaths. Keep your eyes shut, do not open them!

He kept them shut tight and pictured where Y/N had been to try and keep her there.

“What am I, chopped pig’s feet?” Merle grunted.

Daryl relaxed. Merle was still there, and he got back the feeling of Y/N beside him.

“You know,” his wife considered. While she was still there, he was having trouble visualizing her. Was he still close to waking up? “That Sister Isabelle is willin’ to risk sharing a room with a strange American says a lot about how much she’ll give to protect the boy and the others here.”

“Still damn weird she didn’t just share a room, the three of ’em.”

“It is. It’s really weird.” Y/N rested her forehead on his chest. He felt the warmth of her breathing against him. If he focused really hard, he could just about imagine the feel her heartbeat, too. “Maybe she’s fixing to be the first line of defense, with all them other kids livin’ here.”

“Still weird,” he grunted. “Hey, where’d my—” He looked around in his imagination at the room. “Where’d my brother go?”

“Maybe he wanted another peach. Or, maybe you're too close to wakin’ up. Be careful, darling.”

He breathed slowly and kept his eyes locked shut. His frustration was growing. It had felt so real, why was it going away?

Calm. Stay calm so she’ll stay.

“It was also unusual,” Y/N thought, “how Sister Izzy—”

“—Sister Izzy?”

He imagined that her mouth would have twisted in embarrassment. “Yes, I’d probably definitely give her that nickname. You sure know how to portray me realistically.” She started again, “It’s unusual how she didn’t accommodate for your maybe-not-wantin’-to-be-seen-in-the-tub-by-a-nun. By anyone, for that matter. Although,” she reconsidered, “they were nurses who had to change your undies and cauterize your wound, weren’t they?” When he pictured her bottom lip beginning to tremble, he held her closer. “Oh, I hate that they all died but for two! What has this world come to? Why would those men kill them?”

That was something.

The dream got easier to maintain. He felt the curve of her waist. The rise and fall of her chest. It felt real again. It felt so, so real.

Relieved, he didn’t know what to say at first other than, “The water was cloudy enough.” When he was getting treated, bathed, doctored, how hard he wished it was Y/N doing it. Another thing that made him ache, watching them nuns give him medical attention when for the past 12 years it’d almost always been his wife.

He breathed out heavily. “Dunno, when she was in there, it wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

“The habit can have that effect on some. The crucifixes and religious artworks hopefully brought some peace, too.”

“Habit?”

“Nun outfit.”

He tried to hold her even tighter. The way it felt more real than before encouraged him, got him nearly falling off his seat with excitement that he got her back!

Except, the excitement turned into panic that he might lose this moment because he was so happy, as fake as it was.

And it sent him over the edge. Just like that, he was awake. Very awake. And alone. No Y/N, no Merle.

He blinked as the room came into focus.

None of it was real. He’d, he'd known that.

And now he was awake. Lying on some flat, shitty, tiny bed, an ocean away, in a country full of people he didn’t understand, that had walkers who burned you when they touched you, and soldiers who shot up a convent full of nuns who patched up strangers and were only trying to keep a little boy safe.

He didn’t even have his ring anymore. All he had was a snippet on a voice recorder that told the world his name and how badly he'd fucked up.

Daryl turned onto his side, the pain from his burned arm screaming at him, but he didn’t give one flying fuck. Y/N wasn’t there anymore because his stupid ass had woken up! He’d earned the pain, he needed it, he deserved it.

Quietly, he thought to hell with it and let himself weep. He was so fucking done with all this bullshit.

He wanted Y/N back. He wanted his kids back. The fuck kind of brainless jackass was he, leaving them for so long, so much? And for what?

To "see what's out there?"

As if he'd find people who had a cure?

To bring Rick and Mich home? If Rick is even alive, if Michonne is alive.

To transport some creepy French boy to a group of weirdos grasping at the hope of some imaginary friend in the sky who damns them if they don’t do all the rules in the world that He’d let go to shit as a punishment or test?

Really, was Daryl that much of a guilt-ridden jerk-off to still say yes to whatever Maggie asks him to do? It’s a hopeless fu—

“Daryl, I love you so much. Please don’t blaspheme.”

“Y/N?” I thought you was gone. No, you were gone, I woke up! “You’re back?” Holy shit, thank you. Thank you! Thank you, Whoever's up there.

That small, shy smile melted all the ice he’d just had in his heart. “Try not to wake all the way again?”

He didn’t waste any more time blubbering like an idiot, he reached for her and held on. It was still a dream, so he had to be careful to not get too excited or do anything too stimulating. And, don’t worry, he wasn’t about to willingly get a hard-on when there was a nun next to him.

He just needed to have Y/N in his arms again so he could make it through the next 5 minutes without going insane!

For 12 years, she’d been there, loving him in one way or another. For 10 years they’d been husband and wife. Without her, without their kids there, in that strange, foreign place, he was losing himself so quick it brought him to his knees with shame.

Her lips pulled away for a moment. “I wouldn’t agree that you’re losing yourself. I watched Shaney lose himself, it looked different. Daryl, I’m serious,” she insisted. “Listen: did you not save that dad and daughter even after they robbed you?”

Big whoop. “You know what those guerrilla shits would’ve done to her." The same thing that got done to you. "And those assholes would prolly have made the old man watch and killed me regardless.”

“Yeah, but you also went back to try and save that gaggle of nuns from those jar-head pieces of shit, that’s got to count for somethin’.” Wait, that was Merle’s voice. He was back, too?

Daryl looked over at the window to see his brother there once more. Merle winked. “My baby brother, the hero. Stay zen if you’re fixing to keep us here, now. Keep hittin’ that sweet spot between dreamland and the real world.”

Y/N beamed at Merle before turning back to Daryl. “And did you not help those children get the medicine, Dare? Heck, now they got access to that whole castle full of supplies and it’s so much more secure. Um, m-minus the moat full of dead ones.”

“I lied to those kids out my ass, Y/N. Lied and didn’t give a damn.”

“And you ensured none of them got hurt, then promptly admitted the lie with what I’d call purity of heart.”

“I cut that boy’s mule loose without a second thought. You see that? He loved that thing.”

“Better than to have failed to back up the cart in time, which would have happened and would have gotten all five of y’all eaten. And it was almost fast enough to escape by the looks of it. One dead mule to the benefit of four living souls is a good outcome.”

“What’d my sister-in-law say earlier?” Merle asked. “Brains, balls, and grit? Not to sound all mushy gushy, but she’s right.”

The memories of falling into that moat of walkers seized him, made him start to panic again. No brains, no balls, he almost died right in there—

“—Baby, shh,” Y/N hushed. Her arms tightly wrapped around him the way she would when his nightmares hit bad. “You survived. No bites. No burns. Not even a broken bone, I don’t know how you managed it again.” Her lips, her chest, her hands pressed against him. It felt so, so real. “But you always seem to.” She kissed him. “You’ve got brains.” Another kiss. “Balls.” A deeper kiss. “And grit. And you’re alive, sweetheart. There’s always hope as long as your heart is still beating.”

“How will I get out of this?”

“You’ll find a way,” she said with confidence. “You simply don’t know what the way is yet.”

“What do I do about the nuns?”

“Help them keep Laurent safe, of course — if you choose to do so.”

I don’t want to.

“You don’t have to,” she assured him.

I want to go home.

“And you will,” she assured him once again.

I don’t want to help them. I don’t want to. I don’t fucking want to!

…God damn it. “But I should.”

“You ain’t obligated,” Y/N responded, but with hesitation that time. “It is up to you.”

Merle was the one to point out, “It’s that conscience of yours, kid. Sometimes you just can’t help but help. I’ve been watchin’ you these past, what is it, 11 years since I got my crusty white ass killed?” He chuckled to himself as he shaved off the final bit of peach before flicking the pit away. “Can’t be too mad at it when it roped you a fine piece of ass to squeeze at night and how many kids because of it?”

“Merle,” Y/N warned.

Daryl could feel his anger rising.

“What, ain’t you relieved I can’t call you ‘sweet little virgin’ no more, son?” Merle kept egging on.

“Daryl, this isn’t really him. Don’t get angry or we’ll both disapp—”

“—So, my thinking is, Daryl, that you just won’t be able to help yourself from bringing that little sissy boy to them nutjobs —”

“Shut up!” Daryl burst out — and opened his eyes in real time. Again? Is he that much of an idiot?

His pulse was pounding. Dread and self-loathing flooded his mind, how stupid could he be?

Immediately, he squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate hope to get his wife and brother back. He focused, focused, focused, prayed, pretended, focused…

“Daryl,” came her voice.

He could hear Y/N, but not see her. It was clear that it was all him forcing the memory of her voice back. It was all in his head.

“Why bother caring that it’s in your head, sugar? Breathe slowly and focus on the feel of my body against yours. I don’t wanna leave you."

“Y/N, I need to get back,” he panted. “I can use their help to do that. Those religious people, the Union of Hope or whoever, Isabelle says they got a good radio. I need that to get back home.”

“Well, there you go! I trust you.”

He reached up to tangle his fingers where her hair would be. His imagination wasn’t letting it happen, so he focused with gratefulness that at least he could still hear her.

“Just don’t abuse their trust, and you’ll be alright,” she softly pleaded.

Don’t break their trust? “Angel, you don’t know what I did to end up in this mess.”

Of all the ways he could have daydreamed her reacting, it was that her laughter filled the room. “For the last time, my mangy hick, I am a figment of your imagination and quite literally know everythin’ inside that brain of yours. And I still love you despite that ‘shit-show’ what landed you here.”

He brought to mind the color of her eyes, wanting, wanting, begging for a miracle that would make her truly there with him so he could stare into them all night. “What would you say if I asked ‘that if I don’t find nothing, what good am I?’”

“Y/N, you can blame our raising for that shit right there,” his brother commented.

“You poor boys. Broken people sometimes make for broken kids.”

Gently, he started to perceive the way she would rub her cheek against his chest when she’d lay down with him. “Daryl? If I were here, I’d say things to try and make it stick in your head that your worth ain’t dependent on what you can offer.”

“What does it depend on, then?”

“Careful, you’re treading into religious waters now, and I ain’t sure you’ve got the bandwidth tonight. But God is involved,” she hinted.

This mess was hopeless, wasn’t it? No winning, no out, no happy ending.

“Angel, I can’t come home empty-handed.” He squeezed his eyes tighter and willed himself to not lose his cool yet again. “I can’t come home with no Rick or Michonne, no cure, no nothin’ but a burn, more nightmares, and more lives on my conscience.”

“You can,” she answered simply. “It ain’t all on you. No — please, don’t get any more upset or you’ll wake up again! Daryl, I’ve already slipped so far away!” He heard his wife begin to cry, but the sound went further and further from him. All he could see were the backs of his eyelids.

Still, he held on as best he could. “Please stay here, angel.”

“I-I would, sweetheart.”

“When I’m back, I won’t even want to leave the walls to hunt if it would mean not being next to you, d’you know that?”

“Let someone else hunt. You’ve done enough to last a lifetime.” Her voice was hoarse the way it had been when she’d said those same words to him about a year and a half ago. “More than enough. Oh Daryl, I’m so sorry we’re going.”

“Not yet, angel, please don’t!”

“Use all those things makin’ you homesick as reasons to hope. Do it for me, sugar. Get yourself home again. Don’t die, don’t get bit.”

“I won’t. I’ll get back to you. Tell the kids I love ’em?”

There was silence.

Stillness.

Daryl lay there, accepting that he couldn’t feel Y/N next to him anymore.

His throat tightened. “Angel?”

He doesn’t know why he bothered. She was gone, he knew it. He ran his finger where his ring should’ve been, if he hadn’t lost it.

“Angel,” he tried again.

Silence.

“Babe, please. Please.”

Silence.

“Y/N, please, one more time, angel.”

Silence.

The pain in him was hollow and cold.

Feeling small and helpless, he lifted his arms above his head and held back a wail of despair. He closed his eyes again and, in his head, he cried out in desperation, “Merle?”

At first, there was no answer. He hadn't expected one. Why should he?

But then he heard a quiet, low, “I’m still here.”

Merle spoke slowly and heavily, almost as if it hurt him to admit it. “I don’t think she’s gonna come back tonight, Daryl. You’ve already fallen out a few times. I ain’t gonna be here much longer, neither. You know that.”

Any strength he had left seeped out like a stab wound, leaving him crying like a child. “I can’t see you anymore.”

“I know, little brother.”

“It felt so real.”

“It sure as hell did. I think you needed it, even if it hurts like a bitch now.”

It had felt so, so real!

But it wasn’t. “I’m alone,” he choked out.

“Nothin’ you can’t handle.” For a moment Daryl could make out his brother’s face again. “You’re a tough sumbitch, so I’d advise you act like it. Quit blubberin’ like a baby and wipe the snot out your nose.”

Daryl sniffed and tried to get a grip.

“Good.” Merle’s voice began to echo. He was almost gone, too. “Now listen here: don’t die, don’t get bit. Get your ass back where you belong.”

The room came into view.

The echoing stopped.

The hollow, cold pain he’d felt at knowing they were gone there turned sharp and hot. Turns out, it was actually the throbbing in his arm. Daryl really had turned onto his side, which positioned his burned arm underneath him. He strained to get off it and flip onto his back.

You know what? The pain from his burned arm didn’t hold a candle to the ache in his chest.

Were those tears on his face, too? Guess he must’ve started crying for real in his sleep. Made sense considering how real it all felt. It all felt so real.

If only his pulse would stop racing, he felt sick.

He was getting damned old.

Instinctively, he tried to fiddle with his wedding band, which is when he recalled yet again how he’d lost it. Only a faint tan line remained.

He closed his eyes, exhausted, and chewed at his lip. Another tear or two escaped and ran hot down his cheek.

A strange part of him wished he hadn’t lied to Laurent about having a wife and family back home. At the time he said it so it wouldn't hurt as much, but…

“You deserve a happy ending, too,” the kid had told him. Just like his Judith had, when she saw how low and unworthy he begun to feel. She told her auntie Y/N, too, of course, not that his wife wasn’t unaware of how twisted his head had gotten into thinking he was no good. It didn’t feel twisted to him, it felt honest. He didn’t deserve them. They were too good.

His wife’s words to him played again in his mind. He may have just been making all that shit up in his brain, but he was only remembering a mix of real things that she’d told him before, over and over in the hopes his stupid ass would accept it one day.

“Despite how you feel right now, my vote is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

He did need a reason. It was getting harder and harder to hold onto hope. Any hope.

So, maybe, a weird kid with long hair like TJ’s who drew a picture of some washed-up bum on a beach three weeks before Daryl showed up was reason enough to hope. He could grasp onto that.

If it would get him home, hell yeah, he could do that.

How the same weird kid told him what his niece had and what his wife had could be reason enough, too. He could grasp onto that as well, if it would get him home. He could do that for them.

Daryl ran his hand in slow, gentle circles along his stomach like Y/N would. Maybe he’d been doing this in his dream, which is why it felt so real.

It had all felt so, so real.

------------------------------------------

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[generalsdiary]

Ratio and Aventurine are Sherlock and Watson coded but not in the way you think. Where one might assume Ratio would be Sherlock because of his intellect and analytic approach to life and the comments he makes, allow me to switch the perspective. Aventurine is an addict. To what? To feeling like shit and endorsing it, to having low self-esteem, to rejecting everyone in a way so no one gets too close and realizes how vulnerable he is, how much he yearns for love. He hid it away so well that he himself isn’t aware anymore of how much he wants it. to be loved, appreciated, and seen as more than just his luck- much like Ratio wants to be seen for more than just his achievements (poor man ain’t aware of how much he wants it either). Aventurine plays this perfect little role of a charismatic, lucky, fun-to-be-around persona. And that’s all it is, a play, a stage act.

let us switch gears back to Sherlock and John. Sherlock is also an addict, depending on at which point in the timeline, it is nicotine, drugs, crime cases, and similar. Here is where the point lies. Who is the one that pulls Sherlock out of that shit, out of the drug den, to hide his cigarettes away? John. We think Sherlock functions fine… before John, sure. After John, after Mary dies; oh no, Sherlock is not well without him. He can barely function, (yes, Mary’s death comes also in account here, but I won’t get sidetracked), living in a mess, doing drugs again, smoking, treating himself like shit and like he is worthless. So, who reminds Sherlock of his worth, of his genius, of the fact that he is human and not just a performance act that he puts on of deducting others? John. Both Sherlock and Aventurine throw these spectacles, these performances, these acts of a grand image, they play it and they dance to the song that others sing, moving to the melody that strangers decide; playing into whatever image that is painted of them no matter how untrue it is, ex. Aventurine will play a gambling alcoholic as much as you wish although he is more than that, and Sherlock will play the killer, the crazy ‘psychopath’ that kidnapped those kids and poisoned them, and he is also more than that. The difference is that Sherlock performs his knowledge and analytic skills, unlike Aventurine who keeps those cards close to his chest- that is how he survives, that is how he survived, his instinct, his trauma making him aware of a lot of things in his surroundings and aware of everyone else; carefully analyzing everyone to ensure his safety. Aventurine is better with his tongue, knowing what to say and when to say it, with much better people skills- that is what got him this far after all; so, he performs with flashy promises, with fun games- gambling with his own life because what is it worth to him anyway anymore? it circles back to his ‘the only survivor trauma’. Sherlock was ready to gamble his own life (S1E1) and who stopped him? John. Well, more like who saved him. The drug addiction that Sherlock has is a bit downplayed and it always ends fast within the episodes, but in its own way, it is also his gamble, him not valuing his life as much as he should.

yes, in a way Ratio and Aventurine can both be Sherlock. But it is not about Sherlock, as much as it is about Watson. And exactly what Watson brings to the table, to their relationship. In the case of Johnlock, Ratio is very much Watson. The one to tell Aventurine his life matters, the one to go along with his plan of deceiving Sunday- because Aventurine had this great plan, a huge gamble. sound familiar? The usual thing about Sherlock with big plans, ex. exposing Mary after getting shot, going to Magnussen’s to sell Mycroft’s PC. And who follows along even when they don’t agree? John.

to take into account Johnlock in the later episodes/at least the second season, when they are closer- we are brought up to speed on where Aventio are. it is a well known fact that Aventio knew each other before the first scene in the hotel of them interacting. So, they have a history, and their period of getting familiar is over. They know each other. we only see John openly criticizing Sherlock later in the series, be it insulting him or calling him out on his bullshit. The same thing happens with Aventio, where Ratio is the one to openly state his thoughts and criticize. While yes, one may argue that that is in Ratio’s character to behave as such, if we recall the scene between Ratio and the MC, he doesn’t behave that way if unprovoked. And Aventurine wasn’t provoking him, hence the conclusion. As much as Ratio seems like the black sheep here, the odd one out (which he is don’t get me wrong), in this perspective it is Aventurine who is that. and yes, Ratio walks on eggshells around him, apologizing for his harsh words. these two aren’t the perfect puzzle pieces for Johnlock, they do differ in the way they walk in public and who leads the way, and of course the point of this isn’t to make them overlap, but to draw parallels. And while writing this, truly a lot of opposing things came to mind, where both couples differ in such vast ways, all four being complex, rich characters- it pained me that Aventurine and Veritas would be compared to Sherlock and John only in the way that the “genius” matched the “genius”. smh.

Now the way Ratio is Sherlock is very simple, he doesn’t consider himself human- more like, doesn’t allow himself to be human, to feel, to connect, to breathe; when he is too much of a human – and the main reason he wasn’t accepted into the genius society. Poor Ratio, cursed because he wants to help and spread knowledge, what a mean fate struck upon the burned out gifted autistic asexual kid. To switch to Sherlock (also very autistic asexual coded), he is the most human out of them all, (I believe Eurus calls him that but I don’t recall the exact quote, also pointed out by Mrs. Hudson, John, and Mycroft), trying to be this analytical machine when his caring bleeds through his skin, evaporating through his pores, his love for John and so many others making him pull himself apart and do anything to protect them, ex. killing Magnussen, giving himself to Smith to a guaranteed death, faking his own suicide to protect Lestrade, John, and Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock who, much like Ratio, wishes to be strict in his way of life, but cannot help wanting to explain and help others, and Ratio here differs by wanting to help everyone improve while Sherlock is willing to help only after the person has shown some amount of will, intelligence, proved themselves in some way (Irene Adler) or he so rarely happened to like them (ex. the kid that was at Mary’s wedding). Although, their shared way of calling others around them idiots is neat. I’d say this is their main connection and outside of it they are extremely different characters, which is why further comparison is pointless and shallow if you just want to compare characters because they are quote on quote the clever one.

Case in point, Aventurine is Sherlock because Ratio is John, and the one that saves him. The one that grounds him, and Aventurine NEEDS him. He needs Veritas. And Sherlock needs John. Therefore, Aventurine isn’t Sherlock without Ratio, much like there is no Sherlock (be it books, movies, or the show) without John. It is more about the relationships between them than the actual characters, and that, honestly, makes it even more beautiful.

[ceratedfish24]

realised recently that all the amazing takes on scott are ALL from YOU‼️‼️‼️ /pos

as an avid scott fan and watcher it makes me really happy to see so many more things about scott that don't label him as abusive or completely remove/ignore him entirely

thank you for all the rarepair posts as well i am RABID over scott rarepairs

please please if you wish you can use this ask to go off about any scott rarepairs or mainstream (??) ships that you want!!!! i will sit and listen happily like a child listening to their favourite story being told to them because your takes are so right and cool

Aw I’m so happy to hear that! Thank you so much <3 It always brightens my day to hear that my posts can be a little light in a sea of hypocrisy and/or unnecessary negativity surrounding literally one of the nicest people in the life series.

I ADORE Scott rarepairs! He just has such great chemistry with everyone, and I love to dig a little deeper into why specifically they like about each other.

Majorwood – I’m honestly not entirely sure if this is a rarepair or a mainstream? I feel like a lot of people know of it but don’t see it unless they naturally watched Martyn or Scott’s Limited Life perspective, whereas a lot of people watched Jimmy and Scott’s 3rd Life FOR Flower Husbands or watched Martyn or Ren’s 3rd Life FOR Treebark. It’s in a sort of liminal space between mainstream and rarepair.

Anyways, I love these two so much if only because they were so at odds with each other for so long only to thrive once they put their differences aside and learned to appreciate what makes them individually such a force to be reckoned with. I think that their attraction towards each other was a very slow thing, something quiet and natural, and then Martyn having to bring Scott to yellow was the final puzzle piece that fell into place. Martyn’s possessiveness and protectiveness over Scott truly meant so much to me. He had so much respect and affection for Scott, that any betrayal or offense against Scott was an insult to Martyn, too.

In fact, I think Martyn may have had too much respect for Scott. I have always felt as though Martyn attacked Scott before he attacked Impulse because he knew that Scott’s reaction time was just so much better than Impulse’s and that Scott would have remained relatively calm, which would make him dangerous, whereas Impulse was caught off guard and panicked. However, I also think that, had Martyn killed just Impulse, Scott would have given himself over to Martyn willingly. I believe that that had always been Scott’s intentions, hence why he was so at peace with Martyn taking the last of his time. Sacrifice is not something that Martyn understands very well, especially not a sacrifice as significant as the last. I think Martyn respected how skilled Scott is to the point of fear, and it led him to underestimate the extent of Scott’s loyalty. Don’t get me wrong, I think Martyn made all of the right decisions. Eliminating Scott first ensured that there was no chance that Scott, who – no offense, Impulse – is definitely the more practiced PVPer between him and Impulse – we all saw him kill Impulse like 4 times back to back – wouldn’t fight back. I was screaming and cheering with delight and excitement when I saw that play. What a brilliant and fitting end to such a violent, starving series. Limited Life was definitely my favorite season until Wild Life.

Scottho – Speaking of Wild Life, OH MY GOSH WILD LIFE SCOTTHO MY BELOVED?? Something about how Etho was always so comfortable around Scott despite how little we’ve gotten to see them interact with one another always really spoke to me, but this season? The way Scott was so quick to embrace Etho into the Gs, even if it was a secret alliance, was so full of trust. There was no suspicion on Scott’s end that this was some kind of trick, that Etho had alternate motives for agreeing to join their team even though it had been Etho’s own idea.

There’s been quite a few accidental final kills in the Life Series, but Etho is known for picking whatever team will take him in the moment. The fact that Etho’s first reaction to accidentally killing Scott was “I was aiming for Joel!” was very unusual. Gem was right there, loudly excited that Etho had killed Scott. Gem and Joel were Etho’s strongest alliance, but he chose to make sure that everyone knew that he honored his promise to Scott above all, regardless of who it would put him at odds with.

Etho has affection for so many people in the Life Series, but affection is of little consequence in the Life Series. He’s said it himself. “Do you think I have a soft spot for anyone right now?” What Etho has for Scott is more than affection. It’s respect. He genuinely has so much respect for Scott’s playstyle, and you can tell that he was so surprised to hear that the Gs’ approach towards their teammates is not based on worth but on loyalty, especially what with how the Tuff Guys’ approach towards their teammates was so very strictly based on worth.

On top of that, Etho is very close to Cleo and Gem, who are both pretty similar to Scott in terms of humor. From there, he has absolutely zeroed in on Scott’s humor, just absolutely cross referenced the life out of how Scott’s brain works and hit the nail on the head. Absurd of him, in my opinion.

On a less evidence based note and a more delusion based note, Etho’s relationship with Scott is the kind that makes him want to kiss Scott’s knuckles and all the way up his arm until he reaches Scott’s jaw. Those two slow dance in their kitchen in the morning. Scott is the only person who can get Etho to get sappy. Scott is just so earnest and kind, and it makes Etho want to hold him in his arms and keep him safe and sound. Etho hates drinking coffee if it wasn’t made by Scott. It’s not the taste that bothers him; it’s just the principle of the thing. Scott loves Etho because Etho is a constant comfort who also knows when and how to make him laugh. Etho loves Scott because, though he may tease, Scott would never judge him for being vulnerable. They’re each other’s safe space. Etho would simply be the most gentlemanly partner to Scott, and it would totally work on Scott.

Unlike Joel and Bdubs, Scott is entirely neutral about horses. This frustrates Bdubs, who was hoping that Etho’s new boyfriend would at least be on his side in the horse conflict between Bdubs and Joel. Scott has been monitoring this horse war and reporting back to Etho about it as soon as Etho gets home. This is how Etho learns what “spilling the tea” means.

I may be writing about them celebrating the holidays pretty soon.

Scott/Doc – Hear me out hear me out hear me out. I know they’ve never talked even once, but hear me out. Big, strong, stoic engineer working in his lab all day + suave pretty boy who sits on Doc’s desk and is a general safety hazard the whole time. Doc getting frustrated with Scott, because how is he supposed to work when there’s a pretty boy flirting with him in his lab all day? Scott also has to make sure that Doc eats and sleeps and drinks water, and he uses all of these as excuses to flirt with Doc. He spoons food into Doc’s mouth while Doc’s working and asks Doc to make eye contact with him during it. He holds the glass up to Doc’s lips. He drags Doc to bed and complains that he’s so cold without Doc next to him. It works on Doc every single time, because it’s Scott. Doc isn’t about to say “no” to him. There’s few things Scott loves as a big, strong, competent man who only shows his soft side around certain people and is easily annoyed by literally 4 people. Additionally, the sum of the pettiness between the two of them? Oh heavens.

Doc really values loyalty, and there’s none as loyal as Scott. Grian would go to Scott to ask for secrets he can use to further annoy Doc, but Scott would not give anything up. We’ve seen before that Scott does not let up information about those he loves even if it’s just for a prank. The only person who Scott allows to prank Doc is Cleo, but only if Scott is also involved.

Thank you for the ask and for giving me an opening to yap about some of my favorite rarepairs!! I hope you enjoyed my opinions and headcanons!🩵🩵🩵

[likeadevils]

talk more about taylor lying to make a cleaner story! i also find it hilarious but am only aware of a few examples (love story, i wish you would). are there others that you can elaborate on?

yeah! a lot of these are going to be splitting hairs a bit, and i understand her reasoning for all of these, and also this is by far one of my favorite things about her like i love every time she does this.

speak now:

famously, taylor said originally speak now being solo-written was an accident, because she was spending so much time alone in hotels and writing at werid hours of the night. this is not true, she's said many times she lied about this and did it to prove that she was writing her own songs and not getting pity credits or whatever

(THIS IS THE MOST SUBJECTIVE AND OUTSIDER PERSPECTIVE ENTRY ON THE LIST) back to december makes it seem like taylor had much deeper feelings for taylor lautner than she did. i dont think they were ever exclusive; she wrote both enchanted and ours about other people while her and taylor were ostensibly dating. i think taylor squared just went on a couple dates and when lautner tried to make it exclusive in december, swift turned him down

the secret message to mine is 'toby', which is the name of the guy who starred in the music video. i have heard persistent rumors that mine is about a college guy she dated in early 2010, and his name might be toby, but at the very least she's trying to trick us

red:

taylor told this to the la times: “I knew I wanted to bookend the album with 'State of Grace' and 'Begin Again' because they're inspired by the same person who inspired a few songs on the record. I wanted to start and end the album with the first and last song I ever wrote about that relationship." i can't definitively say state of grace wasn't the first song she wrote about that relationship (though she has said all too well is the first song she wrote for the album), i can definitively say she wrote wanegbt four months after she wrote begin again

taylor said this about red: "When I'm writing a record, I kind of don't listen to much music [...] the only artists that I really listened to were Snow Patrol and Ed Sheeran, and that's the reason why I wanted to collaborate with those people on the record." taylor gave many updates on what she was listening to throughout writing red, most notably the arm lyrics on the speak now tour. she gave occasional shout outs to what she was listening to on twitter and instagram into the spring of 2012, and various artists have talked about her complimenting recently relased songs at the time. this is one of my favorites like this made me laugh out loud when i first read it

the secret message for everything has changed, a song she wrote in may, is "hyiannis port", implying that it is about her relationship with connnor kenedy, who she met two months after writing the song

every single time she implied ikywt was about harry in 2013. i don't think it's a complete lie, but she did start writing the song about three months before she met him. finished it after the first time they broke up though

1989:

while taylor (as far as we know) did not have a long term boyfriend in 2013, she did go on dates (funniest one is with tom odell, who wrote this song about her), and it seems like some of those dates were with the intention of finding something more permanent (hence her disappointed "Dating is awful. Love is fiction/ a myth. I’m over it all.").

this and many, many interviewers where taylor says that she got the idea to make a 80s album after losing album of the year at the grammy's (she tells a lot of different stories about that night). bonus points if she says she had “accidentally” been incorporating 80s synths before that. it seems like taylor had the idea to make an 80s pop album around may of 2013 (to many little sources for this one, check my 1989 timeline), and taylor explicitly requested ryan tedder to make 80s pop for her before the grammy's where she lost album of the year.

taylor did not move to new york until after 1989 (at least non-tv) was finished

taylor didn't move from nashville to new york. she largely moved out of nashville to LA in early 2012, and spent a good portion of 2013 split between LA and rhode island.

reputation

taylor: "'I Did Something Bad' I wrote after Arya and Sansa conspire to kill Littlefinger." that episode aired in august of 2017. we have video proof of her writing idsb in october of 2016. now, filming for that season did begin in august of 2016 and lasted for another 6 months, so she could've been receiving insider information? but in the same article she said she was avoiding spoilers and she seems to be unaware of the upcoming events in season 8. i don't know what's going on here i love it

various sessioners have reported that taylor said she wrote all the songs on reputation for reputation, not years in advance. it seems like she had some lyrics for ready for it, dress, and new years day written years in advance. this is the most nit picky entry on this list and i’m annoying myself just by writing it

lover

taylor: "I posted [the seven palm trees] the day the I finished the seventh album." taylor did not finish the album in february, she definitely added death by a thousand cuts after april 24, and likely added london boy in july, something she knew at the time of giving the interview.

this interview about the making of lover (the song): "Interviewer: [Jack] was calling that the Paul bass, is that Paul McCartney? Taylor: Yeah. [Two seconds later] Jack: It's not a true Paul bass at all."

folklore and evermore

the statement that inspired this post, that folklore was the first time taylor wrote non-autobiographical songs! not true! large swathes of debut, fearless, and speak now are about made up scenarios! best believe taylor swift, born in 1989, did not meet bobby on the boardwalk in the summer of '45!

this interview with paul mccartney, where she says there is a song on folklore about "a pioneer woman in a forbidden love affair" (ivy, a song on evermore), and when asked what books inspired her on folklore, named Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, the book that inspired tolerate it (another song on evermore).

edit cause i forgot: those joe credits on folklore are. so funny. no he did not. like i generally take taylor at something approximating her word but i'm gonna need some proof on this one. exile and betty i buy everything else is ridiculous. queen shit though

as for midnights-on, only time will tell. she also just does less interviews now so there’s less opportunities to catch her flubbing

[gildeddlily]

season 2 started off beautifully. I was ecstatic at the end of episode three, for the simple reason that it had the same spirit as season 1. Vi feeling like she made a mistake so big trying to reach Powder instead of seeing Jinx and the danger she represented that the only way to fix that for her was to join her oppressors. Caitlyn destroying all the progress she'd made, unlearning what she'd been taught about Zaun by being with zaunites like Vi, the moment one of them killed her mother, and embracing her roots we can say, talking of bad blood and "I thought you were different"- showing that the internalised racism was always there ready to resurface the moment it had an excuse to. Caitlyn saying that her mother being killed by a teenager who's never dealt with her trauma and mental illness is the same thing as Vi's parents being killed by members of a military institution, disregarding everything she knew about the pain and abuse Vi went through because of the Enforcers. a "men get abused too" situation, in which one ignores the social and historical background of that type of violence to feel less sorry about it. they were perfectly well written, because they are things we see everyday. my father taught me as a child that black people crossing the Mediterranean to look for work in Italy were a good thing, and now that he's had problems at work with one he's started saying the opposite. a gay man I knew laughed at trans folks and said they made things worse for us, ridiculing them in the company of straight people to feel less threatened. (not the exact same thing as what happened to Vi, but you get what I mean).

those are real things, and Arcane has always been good at showing real things.

later on, episode seven, Jayce fell down. he landed in the deepest hole of Zaun, broke his leg, was forced to wear a brace to walk, suffered and had to claw his way back to the surface, to Piltover, in a strange metaphor of Viktor's journey and life (saw a post talking even more beautifully about this, will put the link here if I find it again), and once he met Viktor again, he told him his illness, his legs, he, were beautiful. not despite everything. because of it. and now he can understand him a little more. now he says "your imperfections are beautiful" and we can believe him, because he's not speaking from the perspective of a man trying to convince his friend to stop harming others. he's a man trying to make his partner see that he still loves him, now that he's finally understood him after years of trying to reach the truth and always being stopped by something, and that he understands him enough to know why he's harming others, and that he cares for him enough to think that he will be able to understand why it's wrong. it's Viktor accepting the inevitability of being seen by someone who went to hell and back to reach him.

those were fucking beautiful arcs. they were.

and then?

Vi saw Caitlyn become what she'd always said she wouldn't become, and there were no repercussions. Catelyn got to walk away and live all the same. she lost an eye to Ambessa, but it was no punishment for what she'd done. how many people did she harm? how many people did her actions have repercussions on? Vi shouted at her once, and then it was like it had never happened- which is still real, I guess. it happens everyday. but I didn't see any wish to make us see how that was wrong. I don't want to be told "this is wrong", I'm old enough and smart enough to understand this, but I also think I can see the difference between trying to show deeper meanings and not wanting to deal with difficult plot lines.

and Zaun? it was sad. pathetic. years of abuse were what, forgotten and then vanished in thin air because there was a common enemy? that, sadly, isn't real. it isn't. years or oppression can't be forgotten so easily, not by the oppressed, for one "glorious" fight. it's lazy. what started as a good depiction of reality turned into an american wet dream of big fights and sad sacrifice scenes and epic love stories that cross any difficulty, and economic and social difference. don't you dare say something against Caitlyn and Vi's ending, they went through all that, they deserve nice things. they do. many other people did. no one cared about them tho.

so.

epic failure. good soundtracks tho.

[voxisdaddy]

Hello~! I hope you are having a wonderful day and I would like to humbly request a part 2 of the Velvette x reader break up seeing how reader is holding up.

Are they watching Hella Novelas as well? Do they regret the whole thing? I love Velvette and really want to see how this would be affecting both sides

-🎨 anon

Ice Cream

Pt 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Velvette x Reader

C/TW: cussing

Type: Headcanons + Drabble

In which we see from readers perspective on how they’re dealing with the break up.

Pt.1 Pt.3

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Opening up sinstagram, you scrolled past numerous posts on the discovery page. It seemed every other post was about your relationship with Velvette—hells most prominent fashionista and social media influencer. You huffed upon seeing another video of speculation on the status of your relationship.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You had deactivated your account long ago, a few hours after getting rid of all the remembrances of your previous relationship with the overlord. The memories were too much, and people speculating all the time was getting unbearable. You knew deactivation of your whole account might’ve been a bit too far, it most certainly had people talking, but you’ve seen this shit happen before;

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ High profile couple break up, people speculate, lots of talk and gossip, even months and years after it’s ended people will still talk, they’ll compare their new partners to their old partners, insist it’s a “right person, wrong time” type bullshit and just ugghhhh

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Do people have nothing better to do with their lives?” You’d ask yourself, liking a random post using your new account—a new and more anonymous account. You had made sure to keep it as less “HEY IM Y/N” as possible as to avoid any suspicions. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem to any other normal person. Though of course, your previous partner was no normal person and her associates were no normal folk either.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ it made you slightly paranoid at the thought that Vox could be aware of your new account—which was set to private—but considering he’s basically the king of tech, it wouldn’t surprise you that much if he had his ways. But it brought you some peace of mind that he probably doesn’t give a shit so he’d just leave you alone. Unless Velvette made him: then that’s an actual issue.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You frowned when thinking of Velvette—getting slightly upset with yourself for thinking about her.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was hard not too though. You don’t just forget about someone who meant so much to you for so long, so quickly. Sometimes you wondered if you made the right choice. Did you regret it? Hmm…some days you did.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Some days you’d wake up and turn to the side to see a face you grew familiar to seeing every morning—she wouldn’t be there. Oh yeah. Of course she wouldn’t.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Some nights you slept just fine, not missing a familiar presence next to you or wishing she was there at all.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was very strange. It’s still strange. It didn’t help that considering she’s fucking Velvette—she’s everywhere. Every app you open; oh Velvette or the Vee’s are top of trending? Shocker! Leave your place for a little while to do some shopping? Oh look on the billboards—it’s fucking Velvette. Dating a celebrity as big of a deal as Velvette you were aware would have some draw backs but at the time you never considered what the end of the relationship would be like. Cuz I mean like, who would think about the ending of a relationship with someone you really liked to even get into said relationship with anyways?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Somedays you opened your closet and yours eyes would drift to the clothing that Velvette had gifted you. Designed, hand made, complete with a spritz of her signature perfume to mark her scent on it—her own way of claiming you. You quirked an eyebrow at the clothing. It’s been… several weeks. Months maybe? Who knows but…

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Can’t keep hanging onto this forever…” You mumbled, thumb circling on a corner of a shirt she made you. It be nearly impossible to move on if you kept onto these sorts of things. I mean, you suppose by now she’d probably move on…right? Velvette doesn’t get attached to most things so…she has to be over it now. Right?

The walk to the nearest thrift store was anything but simple.

Meaning you had to take the long and more dangerous way around, through random alleyways and parkouring your way about. Their was VoxTek cameras everywhere in Pentagram city so you tried to avoid those as much as possible since dumping Velvette. Out of… slight fear, if you’re being honest.

No one disrespects and humiliates the Vee’s, evident from the Vox and Alastor fiasco, so you were slightly paranoid what Velvette or her fellow Vee’s would do to you since you are the one who ended things. You’re the one who deleted evidence of your relationship with the overlord on your very public account—which you then deactivated which of course only got people talking even more. Fucking great!

“I’m a real genius getting everyone’s attention on us Vel, whoopy.” You muttered quietly to yourself, dodging a stray bullet in the process.

The thrift store was in sight now, and in a quick jogging distance. You stopped from your corner, looking around for any VoxTek camera. Surely Vox isn’t always watching, right? He’s the ceo of his stupid empire for fucks sake, he should be way too busy to be sitting around looking at a bunch of random ass citizens in Pride. You spotted several cameras, making you tense.

“Just act natural. Don’t fuck up.” You whispered to yourself, completely missing the quirked eyebrows of a couple of sinners next to you that you apparently didn’t notice.

Pacing your steps correctly, you tried to make it seem like you weren’t just obviously trynna avoid said cameras. Just gotta blend in with the crowd.

Unbeknownst to you however, three overlords sat in Vox’s office, all the monitors displaying all the nearby streets to this thrift store.

Vox scrolled on his phone as he sipped his coffee, giving the occasional “uh huh” or “that bitch” whenever he felt necessary as he was forced to listen to Velvette’s rant. He was doing his usual work until Velvette and Valentino walked in, well more so Valentino dragging Velvette in. Apparently Velvette went on another tangent about ex’s and how she’s soooooo over you now. Valentino was too high too care but found it amusing nonetheless so he dragged the young overlord and himself to Vox so Vox could deal with keeping up with her tangent while the pimp just sits there and watches in amusement.

Velvette’s rant comes to a sudden stop when her eyes catches a glimpse of the monitors.

“Vox, teleport me there, now!”

With a quick grin to a staff member, you placed the group of neatly pressed clothes in the big donation bin.

The feelings of parting with the clothes was difficult for you to describe. Peace that you could more easily move on? Anxiousness that you’re letting your past relationship go? Self doubt began to flood your soul again.

In an almost desperate attempt to cling onto something, you took one article of clothing and sniffed it—wait is that her scent? You sniffed it again more confused this time. Wha—but you washed it! You washed all of these before donating them, why is that scent lingering around? Another sniff before you realized it wasn’t the clothing that had the scent.

“You’re kind of a freak for sniffing clothes, you know that?”

You turn on your heal, nearly jumping back in shock at how close the other was to you,

“Velvette.”

I’ve had this in my drafts for so long and I had no idea how to end it I’m so sorry. I really wanted to finish at least one request though bc I have so many that’s just sitting there half done 😭

Thank you for the request! I wasn’t expecting anyone to want a part 2 of sorts but I had fun and I hope it isn’t terrible lol

[peace-for-levi]

{when you need me...}

who would i be if i didn't project my mental health onto 2D characters/reader and not write about it? i see so many fics of reader being worried for nanami while he's out in shibuya and… we all know what happens there.

content warning: detailed descriptions of anxiety, reader refers to themselves as 'wife' (reader thinks they are a bad wife) and the use of 'she'. it's otherwise in the 2nd person perspective. negative self-talk/beliefs. use of pet names. nanami being the bestest husband. i miiiiight have made him OOC and overindulged on how soft i made him BUT ITS OK YOU GOTTA BE A DELULU IN THIS ECONOMY.

+18 discord server

No, you were not going to call him. Absolutely not! Or text him either, for that matter.

The anxiety had been bubbling away all day inside your head like billowing storm clouds. You were grateful work kept you occupied, but once you arrived home, you trudged to your bedroom. You didn't even change out of your work attire.

You knew the source of all this, too.

Nanami came home injured while you were out dealing with another curse of your own. Thankfully, he had dealt with the bleeding himself and got checked out by Shoko. But to see him come so depleted of energy – dark shadows hanging under his eyes like bats, shoulders heavy – left you extremely unsettled. You were already an anxious mess, and now there are talks of a special-grade 'patchwork' curse. Not to mention the two unregistered cursed spirits that Gojo encountered.

What was going on in the world?

Now, he had been called out to the school again. After being badly injured, no less!

What if he was asked to fight the patch-work curse again? Was that curse able to perform Domain Expansions? Your husband never reached that height of jujutsu…

Would he… make it home okay?

You worked a "normal" job, not being employed at as a teacher at the highschool. As a grade one sorcerer, though, you were sometimes called in on particularly difficult and awkward missions. Your figured your problems with anxiety in the past would slowly fizzle away if you quit working at that highschool; after all, they couldn't make you exorcise and hunt down curses as often if you didn't work there. In your naivety, you assumed that'd be the end to your worries. But they only persisted and got worse the longer your husband of four years continued to work there as a teacher.

You couldn't resent him for it, and you knew he found greater fulfillment in being a teacher than adhereing to the laborious life of a salaryman.

But, maybe… your selfish thoughts got the better of you when you wished he could work a more "normal" job like you… If he worked a job where his safety was guaranteed…

How could you say such a thing? What kind of wife says that?!

Your hand collides against your forehead, releasing a (poorly contained) groan. Your teeth continued to chatter.

Now, I'm a bad wife on top of everything else…

Gruesome images flood your mind's eye. It's obsessive, relentless. After all, you have to prepare for the worst to come, right…? That's what you always do.

If you were by his side, would that make you feel any more relieved? Just by seeing him? But like a jolt, any solution you try come up with is met with more disturbing imagery. It was so vivid, it is as if you were there.

All that gore and worry conjured up in your cursed, anxious little head. The redness – so much red – of your imagery. It seeps and spreads along the ground at a terrifying rate, the image of someone – Kento – bleeding out. No one is there to help him.

You are.

You aren't gifted like Shoko, though.

There is no amount of horror – be it from forms of media or the wicked imagination – that can prepare a person for seeing the life ebb from another; the hopelessness, the tearing at the soul that is the departing of the other. As your loved one leaves this earth.

You're anxious, you're spiralling… You just wanted him to be okay. You wanted him to confirm with you he was okay. But you disturb him enough already with your texts and calls during missions.

Of course, in reality, if you hailed for Kento, he'd drop everything to be with you. He always has.

You didn't realize your thumb was hovering above the 'send' button. Through bleary eyes, you can see a hastily constructed text. Loaded with typos and errors. You're hardly able to read it though. Thumbs fidgting, you toss the phone.

You knew, logically, that he would want to help. He always has helped. But god, maybe you wanted to be big girl for once and try deal with it without him? Maybe be a good wife who doesn't send him a barage of texts when she's anxious?

Anxiety is the leak in your boat. You have to find a way to patch that hole or you'll drown.

But how can you when your worries revolve around your husband's safety?

You try cling to the logic that he has never refused you, made you feel stupid or invalidated you. Ever. But why would you cling to logic when the voice of your anxiety echoes through megaphone at you.

Of course, you're a distraction. Of course, you're a nuisance.

You hadn't even done a single chore to help around the house today. Some wife you were…

Kento would tell you that these thoughts you have are ridiculous. But you couldn't help it. You felt like you were holding him back from everything he deserved – you were so blessed to have a husband like him. You counted your lucky stars to be with him, but you ultimately felt like you didn't deserve him.

But Kento wasn't here now. So all you had was your mind to bully you.

The thoughts come as an electrical storm in your brain that, quite honestly, are painful. It's different from a headache and it feels the same as intense sorrow. It's uneven breaths as you claw at your chest, and it feels like you're suffocating; all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It's sobbing to the point of staining your shirt. The intense images come at you with cursed intent. Like being hooked up to a cattle fence - not enough voltage to kill but sufficient to keep things uncomfortable, paralysed with fear and unmoving. And you couldn't, for the life of you, talk yourself out of the spiral.

It wasn't as if you didn't want Kento to be there. You were just denying yourself of his presence. You thought you were being brave, you thought—

Ping!

You lower your hands from your eyes. You gaze at the phone, blinking owlishy, before picking it up.

You let out a groan. In anxiously twiddling your thumbs by your screen, you had sent the (questionable-looking) text.

You don't even have time to berate yourself, for your ringtone begins to chime.

"[F/n], honey. I don't quite understand your text," he greets. He goes back to doing what he was doing – it sounded like he was tidying something away. "Principal Yaga has us staying behind at the school to–"

He stops.

He immediately stops upon hearing you whimper over the phone.

"Sweetheart?"

You mumble, "I-I– Um, N-Nanami, I–"

What if he loses his patience today? Will this be the straw that breaks the camel's back?

You can hear him shuffling over the phone. "Talk to me, what is it? Are you hurt?"

You don't want him to leave work on your account. Damn, your thumbs! If only it stayed as an unsent draft.

You panicked. "I-I'm fine! I think I just–"

You hear him sigh. "You're a terrible liar… You're not fine." A pause. "I'm coming home."

"No, Kento, please–!"

The call ends there. Your fingers seize up and your phone falls to the bed. Your wrists bash off your head, hitting yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Ping!

Be safe. I'll be there in fifteen.

Your heart sinks, especially knowing that he'd probably break several road safety laws to get back to you as soon as possible.

Another notification arrives swiftly after that.

I love you. You'll be fine.

The fifteen minutes drag by so slowly. You're still rooted at the side of your bed. Not having changed, started laundry, started making dinner. You shake your head. It's frightful how automatically you chastise yourself for anything and everything. Once you hear the click of the door, you shudder and cower, waiting for him to come into your shared bedroom to berate you.

Your eyes are clamped shut still, even when you feel his calloused thumb rub at your knee.

"Oh, sweetheart…" he says, and when he speaks it's so soft. Soft like he'd holding fine china.

He's careful to not press your boundaries too much, not wanting to hold you tighter. But he doesn't sense any resistance right now. You let him hold you.

He holds you like you are the most precious and loveliest thing in his world.

(You are.)

As if you weren't crying enough already, his touch makes you crumble more.

"What has you so anxious, [F/n]?" he asks, rubbing your arms up and down. He pulls away briefly to ask, "May I sit?"

You nod and he sets himself down. You overwhelmed by his love. You always have been. He always spoils you with his soft, passionate touch and his gentle words. You sniffle and it takes every ounce of self control to not explode into a heaving, babbling mess (more than what you currently were.) You continue to sob into his arms.

"Shhh, shhh. You're alright, you're going to be just fine, sweetheart. But in order to be okay, you're going to have to stop holding your breath like that."

You hadn't even realized. You always had been an open book to him.

Breathe, breathe, breathe…

Your thoughts were so out of control, you were in a terrible cycle of either hyperventilating, or holding your breath. You shake your head, trying to break free. He doesn't let go entirely, but he loosens his grip. His hands hold yours, breathing deeply, as if trying to do it for you. You continue to resist, fighting his hold more as you take agonizing breaths.

"Let me hold you. Let me make things better. Let me stay."

You sob harder, knowing that once again he'll be picking up the pieces. Your pieces.

"What has you so worked up?" he asks, in between practiced, deep breaths.

Before you even have a chance to say anything, he whispers softly against your temple, "I love you. So, please, let me in."

And you let everything out.

He holds you close again once each and every worry comes out. He rocks you slowly back and forth, he plants the odd kiss to your dewy temple. He listens to you intently, taking in everything you say and more. He has heard these worries countless times before, and he listens to them as if these are being revealed to him for the first time. He gently 'shhhh's against your brow when you start to hiccup and unravel more.

As your husband, he wants to be able to promise you his safert; he wants to promise he'll come home in one piece.

But he can't do that. Because he doesn't know how any of this will play out.

So he hugs you, impossibly tighter.

"What can I do to help? Tell me what I can do to make it all okay…"

You want to be a good wife; you don't share the selfish thoughts you have, of wanting him to work at a normal job again. Even when he hated it, even when it left him feeling so drained.

So you say nothing and you let your little lie spread its wings.

You calm down in his arms, holding you until your limbs feel heavy. He continues to soothe you as best as possible. His voice was so achingly gentle, rubbing circles into your hips. It has your heart shattering into pieces.

Mindlessly, you mumble under your breath. "I just want you to be okay…" you admit.

He averts his gaze helplessly, because knows he can't promise you that. He relaxes and lays down on the bed, taking you with him. You undo the top button of his shirt.

He smiles sadly. It's the one thing he can't promise.

And though he'll never let you know, he feels like he fails in this duties as a husband.

But sometimes, he knows he's at least doing something right when he helps calm you down from such a state that you end up dozing off in his arms. He holds you til his arms limp and heavy.

In this blood-stained, fleeting life, he'll walk with you to the ends of this earth.

Even if he must depart early.

taglist: @levi-my-beloved @licuadora-nasir @nelapanela94 @whattheheckmidoriya @poisonpeche @unadulteratedtreecrusade @notgoodforlife @sckerman @theferricfox @happybird16 @jayteacups and idk who else