#me forgetting every char ever

[lingeringscars]

TEN FAVORITE CHARACTERS FROM TEN DIFFERENT FANDOMS.

01: Devi Vishwakumar / never have i ever

02: Samwise Gamgee / lord of the rings

03: Diana Meade / the secret circle

04: Isabelle Lightwood / shadowhunters

05: Penelope Garcia /criminal minds

06: Helen Sharpe / new amsterdam

07: Amanita Caplan / sense8

08: Sid / how i met your father

09: Whitney Chase / sex lives of college girls

10: Henry Burrell / the last of us

tagged by : @ownmidnight

tagging : idk who hasn’t done this yet but you if you haven’t or you if you have but wanna do it again with 10 different fandoms

[bachibabe]

📂 ‧ ₊ ˚ — Lucky

hajime umemiya x f.reader

✰ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 1.2k

✰ ݁ ˖┊: content: nsfw, soft dom!umemiya, established relationship, pwp, breeding kink, soft sex!!!!!!, edging/teasing, ume has a big dick ://, pussy drunk!umemiya, praise, i just needed to talk about his breeding kink okay leave me alone, smut directly under cut, all chars are aged up.

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

I just. I need a moment to talk about Umemiya’s breeding kink. I know it's just. It’s crazy man. Walk with me please

Umemiya is the type of guy to get so lost inside your pussy when he’s fucking himself into you. His brain can only focus on the way your walls are fluttering around him, the way they grip him so tight. Drawing him back in on every thrust. Practically pulling him deeper and deeper into your core. Until you’re all stretched out, taking his cock completely.

A feat in itself, honestly. Because it’s safe to say Umemiya… he’s big. Upsettingly so, really. So big you really didn’t think he was going to fit inside of your cute little pussy. He didn’t think so either– lying between your legs. Inspecting your lips. Almost making you feel embarrassed by his stare as he would lick at your entrance. Pout on his pretty lips.

“Ah baby~” He used to whine, “Do you really think she can take me? I mean… pretty girl already looks so stretched around just one of my fingers… I don’t want to hurt you, you know?”

It’s a good thing he’s broken you in now. So many hours prepping your puffy little cunt until it’s a little sore, tears beading up on your waterline. So many nights he teases you with just the head of his cock– bullying it into your entrance, not going further than just the tip even when you beg. Beg for him to fill you up, to stretch you just for him in a way you know only he can.

All because he knows what's best for you.

Or, maybe that’s just what he tells himself. Maybe he knows the second he’s finally able to bury his cock fully inside your warmth, knows that when he finally gets to feel your wet heat wrapped around him that he’s going to become entirely addicted.

And trust, when he finally does give in, he’s pussy drunk instantly. His mind drifting far off, stars floating in his vision. Only able to see your face. Only able to feel your body.

Stare you right in the eyes as his thrusts turn a bit sloppy, almost lazy. Savouring the feeling of you in any way he can. Your hips wrapped around his waist, his arms on either side of your head, propping his body up as he gives you that lazy smile. The smile he always gives when he’s about to drive you insane.

Because Umemiya, you see, he likes to play the long game. He likes to draw out pleasure, holding you just on the cusp of epiphany without ever letting you slip over the edge. Loves to bask in the glow of intimacy, creating a whole new genre of music to enjoy. Preens at the way you cling to his shoulder, holding him close.

Smiles because he knows you’ll never let him go.

Even when his thrusts are languid like this– each one slow, almost messy, but deliberate at the same time. His cock brushing against the spot inside of you that sees stars, so deep inside of you that he’s practically pressing against your cervix. Balls pressing against your ass as he pushes himself all the way inside, grinding slow circles into your whiny entrance. Just begging for him to get serious, begging for him to let you find your release.

Ah~ he wishes moments like this could just last forever~ Pretty girl on his bed, creaming around his cock. Looking so lost– but it’s okay. You don’t have to be. He’s right there to take care of you. He’ll always be right there to take care of you.

Fill you up over and over again to make you feel right. Make you feel loved, cared for.

Mmmm… and then his brain starts to drift off again. Too pussy drunk to really think about how dangerous his thoughts really may be. Too high to forget all about the birth control you take religiously.

How can he stop himself from dreaming of a future with you? Of a nice house in the same neighbourhood as his friends. Maybe by the beach so you can have Barbeques every night. Go swimming whenever you want. A family built between the two of you. How much he would love you every single day of his life.

Right, because with Umemiya, his need to breed you. His desires that start from deep in the root of his brain, spread all the way down to his fingertips, they don’t come from the need to claim. No, he already knows you're his. Knows you would never betray him.

No, those desires, the ones that have him burying his face in your neck. Have him finally giving in, picking up the speed of his hips. His thrusts melting you into a puddle of moans– your sanity so far out of reach you don’t even know if you want it back.

Those desires come from his love for you. His desire to be with you utterly and completely. To show the rest of the world the evidence of your love, the evidence of your devotion to one another.

Okay, and maybe they come from his inherent need to dote on you. To take care of you the same way you have him. Maybe just a little.

But that doesn’t matter anyway, nah, all that matters right now is you underneath him. Taking everything he has to give and more. Your neglected clit twitching as you come apart under him. Your back arching, nails digging into his shoulder blades. Coming undone from his cock alone.

Being so good– just so perfect for him.

It only drives him further, only giving you a second of reprise before he leans back from your form, pulling your hips onto his thighs. Takinging one of your legs and raising it high– placing it just right on his shoulder. Giving him the perfect angle to drive into you. The perfect angle to fill you up, breed you so full and pretty.

Imagining the way your walls will flutter once he finally pulls out, watching as his cum leaks from your fluttering hole. Knowing the second it does he’ll just take two fingers and push it back inside.

His good girl would never waste a drop, would she?

No, she wouldn’t. Not ever. Never for him. So why keep denying you of what he knows he you really want?

It only takes one look into your dazed eyes to have him falling apart after you. How can he not when you look at him like he’s hung the stars? Fucked out eyes half-lidded, pretty smile on your face that just looks so, so tired.

His hips fuck themselves as deep inside of you as he can go, his head rolling back, mouth parting in a silent ‘o’ as white fills up your walls. His lips find your ankle, kissing it gently as he thrusts into you slowly once more. Milking every last bit of cum from his cock. Making sure every last bit stays inside of you. The picture of love, of happiness right below him.

He doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

Anyway. Yeah. Umemiya breeding kink. Yeah.

© all rights reserved to bachibabe ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[maxillness]

Talking Body || CL16 x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, insecure!Charles, virgin!Charles, talk about insecurities, slow burn(kinda), oral (M receiving), praise kink, sub!charles

Wordcount: 1.6k

I’m trying to start this new project I call ‘Music Monday’, which is basically where every Monday I post something inspired by a song, so if you have any song requests that would be appreciated 🙏

It had been one of those nights again last night. Where it had gotten heated between them, but Charles wanted to stop before they got too into the act

She was sad he wanted to stop, but she respected if it was because he wanted to wait until marriage

Even through they had never been intimate, or the fact she had never seen him shirtless, it didn’t matter, she loved him from the bottom of her heart. She had never loved anyone as much as she loved him

“Bebe, i’m sorry about last night” He came up behind her her, hugging her waist as he hid his face in the crook of her neck

She turned around to face him “It’s fine, Charles” She pecked his lips before he could protest “I understand that you want to wait” She assured him

“No, I don’t want to wait” Her face had a confused expression as he spoke “I don’t want to wait, it’s just that…” His words faded out as he looked into the ground

Her hand went to his jaw, making him look back up at her “What, Char?” Her voice was soft as she spoke to him

“Nothing. It’s stupid. Forget I ever said anything” He was about to turn around and walk out, but she pulled him back

“Nothing about you is stupid, baby” She caressed his cheek as she spoke and looked into his eyes

“It’s just that… I don’t know… I’m afraid you won’t look at me the same way after” His eyes fell back to the floor, afraid to look her in the eyes

“Charles, if this is about you being insecure about your body; don’t worry” His head turned towards her again “If I had the chance, I would fuck you all fucking night, no matter how you look” She hoped her words at comforted him in some kind of way

“But, how would you know for sure?” His voice was low and soft, filled with insecurity

“I promise you, baby, no matter how you look, you would be perfect under my touch” She looked up at him with confidence filled eyes

“And I understand if you’re not ready, I’ll be here whenever you are ready” She pecked his cheek before walking away from him to sit on the couch

He walked over to the couch as well. He laid down so his head was resting in her lap. He sighed as she started stroking his hair

His hand went to her thigh, and he started stroking her softly “I’m a virgin” She stoped her movements on his hair

“It doesn’t make me love you less, if that what’s your worried about” She said stroking his hair again

“Are you sure?” He sat up to sit close beside her “I mean, I’m 26 years old and I’m a virgin”

“It doesn’t matter. I find it kinda… Sweet” She caressed his cheek and pecked his lips

In one swift motion, Charles had pulled her into his lap. His arms snaked around her waist as he hid his face in the crook of her neck

She scraped his scalp with her nails when he started placing kisses on her shoulder and her neck

His hands went under her shirt, hiking it up to reveal she was only wearing panties under. He took his lips away from her skin, but only to capture her lips on his

His hand went to her ass as the kiss got more heated “Charles…” She pulled away from him to look him in the eyes “We don’t have to if you don’t want to”

“I want to, please” He bucked his hips up into hers to get some kind of pleasure out of it

“Are you sure?” She dünnt want step any of his boundaries, especially when they just talked about it

“I’m sure, please, mon amour” He whimpered when she got off of him to stand up “What are you doing?” He asked confused

“Your first time shouldn’t be on a couch, amour” She took his hand and pulled him up from the couch. He followed her into the bedroom

She closed the door with her foot as she pulled him down by his neck to kiss him. She guided him backwards pushing him lightly down on the bed when it the back of his legs

She got down on her knees to unbuckle his belt. His breath hitched as she zipped down his pants

“You can tell me to stop if you want” She said as she looked up at him

“Please, don’t stop” His words came out as a whine and it only turned her on even more

She kept looking up at him as her hands pulled down his pants and underwear. He bucked his hips up so she could pull them all the way down. He stepped out of the pants and she threw them to the side

She spread his legs further apart so she could get closer to him. Her hands went to his hips as she placed open-mouthed kisses on his inner thighs

His breath got louder and quicker and he gripped the sheets beneath him. Her nails digged into his skin as her mouth got closer to his cock

His loud breathing turned into whimpers and whines. He didn’t know what to do with himself. She had barely touched him, and he was already a complete mess

“Oh, baby. I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already rolling your eyes into the back of your head” She taunted from beneath him

“Please, I need you so bad” He whined as his knuckles turned white from the grip on the sheets

She spit on her palm and spread it down his shaft. He moaned loud when her hand made contact with his cock

He bucked his hips, fucking her hand, but his movements was soon stopped by the overwhelming pleasure of her hand moving

Soon his moans were so loud she were sure the whole apartment complex could hear him, but she didn’t care in the moment, she only cared about him, and how much of a mess he was under her touch

It didn’t take long for him to start begging for her to go faster “Please, baby, more, please. I need more” He started fucking her hand again as she sped up

When he started twitching in her hand, she pulled off of him earning a groan from him, but he was quick to start moaning again when her mouth attached around him

She gagged every time he hit her throat, only giving him more pleasure and pulling him closer to his orgasm

Her nails scraped his skin up and down his sides which sent him over the edge and came down her throat

She swallowed before looking up at him “You okay, amour?” She asked soft kissing his knee

“Mhm” He nodded, no words forming in his throat

“You think you can handle more?” She asked kissing his other knee

“If it means you’re gonna fuck me, then yes” He said which made her chuckle

She stood up to now look down at him “Take off your shirt, Char” She saw the worry in his eyes “I promise you, baby, you’re perfect” She caressed her cheek before he took off his shirt and threw it on the floor

“Get further in on the bed” She told him, and as he did so, she pulled her shirt over her head and pulled her panties down

She stepped out of them and walked over to straddle him in the middle of the bed. His hands landed on her hips, his eyes taking in the sight of her naked body hovering over him

She leaned down, placing her weight into one of her hands placed beside his head. The other hand took his cock into her hand again

He whimpered at the feeling of her guiding his tip through her wet folds. They both moaned as he was aligned with her entrance

Their moans got loud as she went down on him slowly. She waited a little before moving, allowing herself to adjust to his size

His hands went to her ass as she started moving. Both of her hands were now placed on either side of his head, making her tits bounce against his chest at every movement

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this, joli garçon” She leaning down to kiss his lips “A naked, moaning mess beneath me” Her words only made him moan louder

His hands went up and down her back, his nails digging into her skin which will most definitely leave red marks tomorrow

She could start to feel him twitch inside her, making her clench around him which earned her louder moans from him

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum again” His eyes were screwed shut and his back arched off of the bed, his hips bucked him meeting her thrusts

“Fucking cum for me, Char” A few thrusts and kisses to his chest and he came deep inside her which sent her over the edge as well

She had gotten them both cleaned up before they laid under the covers of the bed. His arms around her body and his head on her chest

“Thank you” He said soft, almost dozing off to sleep

“For what, mon amour?” She questioned him

“For making me feel comfortable about my body to do this” He said and she could feel his slight smile into her chest

“Of course, baby” She said kissing the top of his head

I'm so glad I wrote this two days ago, 'cause I'm too damn hangover to write properly today

[marlenesluv]

Star of the show. (CL)

summary: when charles leclerc hard launches his actress girlfriend, star of teen wolf as scott mccalls sister, fans go crazy.

note: obviously in the show, scott doesn’t have a sister, but pretend for me, kk? lol

fc: christina nadin (love her)

warnings: language, and sexual comments

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: y/n.user, carlossainz55, and 1,923,035 others

charles_leclerc: the star of the show, and my heart (and the ferrari paddock)

view comments…

ferrarifwiends: did charles just hard launch his gf and expect us not to freak tf out????

y/n.user: awww you used cute pictures of me😮‍💨🫶

↳ charles_leclerc: every picture of you is cute, chérie

↳ user7: oh shit. he’s def getting head for that one

↳ user3: UNCALLED FOR (agreed)

leclerc.edittpg: HOLY SHIT

teenwolffansss: mother is dating a vroom man?

landonorris: she helped me meet dylan obrien guys!!

↳ oscarpiastri: yeah and you never shut up about it

↳ landonorris: you’re just jealous

user5: and she’s close with the paddock?

↳ charycarlos: we have been fooled by the monégasque again

y/nfanedits8: she’s taken? i now have no chance 💔

user1: the fries and the espresso martini look so good

↳ 1655charlossss: i’m sayingggg

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and 1,240,925 others

y/n.user: my shining star

view comments…

tylerposey58: not to be a protective set big brother..

↳ y/n.user: ur the best sibling i could have ever asked for :’)

↳ tylerposey58: love you and miss you. pls visit me and phem

↳ y/n.user: i’ll bring char

↳ charles_leclerc: :)

stilesstilinski4life: kinda wanted her and dylan to date..

↳ y/n.fppp: just be happy for her? her and dylan are bsfs, she’s dating charles ffs

user3: the way her and tyler are literally the best sibling duo (sibling soulmates. meant to be actual sibling i swear)

charles_leclerc: je t’aime

↳ y/n.user: je t’aime aussi

f1wags: such a beautiful couple, holy shit

charismybae16: omg we are gonna get bf charles pics AHHHHH

↳ wifey.y/n: nah, forget him, we get gf y/n pics OMG

user3: you guys are too cuteeeee

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 1,420,004 others

y/n.user: fútbol and food (the best f’s)

view comments…

charles_leclerc: next to fucking

↳ y/n.user: charles OMG

↳ charles_leclerc: im not wrong, cherié

f1wags: y/n is turning charles into a bold commenter😭

dylanobrien: baseball is better

↳ y/n.user: mets games🧡💙

↳ dylanobrien: you need to come back so we can go?? bring charles so you can culture him

↳ charles_leclerc: texting the gc now, this sounds so fun

user4: UGH THEY HAVE A GC?!?!?!

hollandroden: you are so beautiful!? miss out girls nights :(

↳ crystalmreed: let’s hangout soon!

↳ y/n.user: holland <3 and yes we should!!

betateenwolfedits: these pictures are pure gold

user4: where’s kika?

↳ francisca.cgomes: i’m at a fashion show, lol. had to leave y/n alone with the guys :(

↳ y/n.user: SAVE ME KIKA

↳ francisca.cgomes: OMW!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: y/n.user, pierregasly, and 1,872,024 others

charles_leclerc: we eat good🍷🍝

view comments…

y/n.user: CHICKEN🍗

↳ charles_leclerc: 😋😋😋

teenwolf: getting flashbacks from when y/n would order chicken nuggets 24/7 during filming

↳ y/n.user: miss u guys🤭

↳ teenwolf: we miss you more!🩵

y/nycharfp: they still look hot while shoving their faces, unfair

user7: favorite couple on the grid

dylansprayberry: nice to see you found someone who enjoys cooking as much as you do, y/n

↳ y/n.user: charles can NOT cook

f1wags: same pose, different food and person

bilesbilinski28: slayyyyy

danielricciardo: i want chicken

↳ y/n.user: let’s go get canes rn

↳ danielricciardo; omw rn actually

user2: i bet they actually do go and get canes….

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

daniels instagram story

seen by: y/n.user, charles_leclerc, and 2,024,294 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story

seen by: charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,386,299 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 1,428,993 others

y/n.user: how these triple headers got us

view comments…

charles_leclerc: you look like an angel when you’re sleeping/waking up and i look like a gremlin :/

↳ y/n.user: char, no you do not

f1wags: shes barbie and he’s j ken fr

y/nsfp1: she looks sooo prettyyyy

francisca.cgomes: pretty girl

↳ y/n.user: ily kika

user4: prince of monaco sleeping?! make sure he stays safe!

crystalmreed: that’s my sleeping mask!

↳ y/n.user: whaaaaaa

teenwolfeditsss: they both are still hot while sleeping and after waking up?? i’m done for

kellypiquet: those selfies are so cute!!

↳ y/n.user: ty kelly!! 🫶

user9: i need a teen wolf reunion :(

↳ char.y/n.fp: i j need charles to meet them fr

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: charles_leclerc, tylerposey58, and 2,187,024 others

y/n:user: i always see people doing these aesthetic slide number things, so here’s mine 😋

1) charles tries a pepper that tyler posey got him

2) tyler holds the pepper while charles freaks out over the hotness

3) charles guzzles water while saying “too hot!! too hot!!”

4) charles and i found dylans look-alike!!

5) i think pierre and charles took this while me, kika, and tyler were walking around the mall infront of them. dylan was with them? i’m not sure tbh

6) took this picture a few days ago when we took charles, pierre, and kika to universal

view comments…

charles_leclerc: that pepper was too hot

↳ dylanobrien: one might say “too hot!! too hot!!”

↳ tylerposey58: “tyler why is it so spicy?!”

↳ charles_leclerc: cherié you’re friends are bullying me.

↳ y/n.user: it’s okay, char. ilysm you’re so brave for trying that pepper!❤️

↳ charles_leclerc: 🙂❤️

↳ tylerposey58: 🙄🙄

user2: MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDE

f1wags: she’s not even in these?? CRIMINAL!

landonorris: and she didn’t even invite me? :(

↳ y/n.user: you said you didn’t wanna go??

↳ landonorris: I LIED

f1page34: lmaooo, the pic of char and pierre

user7: MARIO AND LUIGIIII

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: y/n.user, pierregasly, and 2,197,024 others

charles_leclerc: my own “aesthetic slide number things” but it’s all my gf (mostly)

1) woke y/n up at 7am to get breakfast and all she ordered was orange juice and chips & guac

2) y/n trying to fix dylan’s jeep (that didn’t happen)

3) espresso martini night!!!

4) no explanation needed

5) y/n crying because the mets lost

6) me in my new raincoat! :)

view comments…

user3: y/n is SUCH a mood😭

y/n.user: CHAR😦

↳ charles_leclerc: 😘

y/nsfansss7: MOTHER IS SLAYING WITH THOSE MARTINIS

f1wags: how many letters in y/n’s name?

↳ user3: ATEEEE

↳ author (me lolz): j pretend ur name is 8 letters for the smau😛

carlossainz55: it really is y/n’s world and we are all just living in it

↳ maxverstappen1: this is true

f1fanpage4: crying over the mets losing is such a y/n thing to do

dylanobrien: the mets losing is such a sad thing, i don’t blame her

vroompage16: the juice and chips is so me

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story:

seen by: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 1,328,991 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

[kisses4kaia]

Charlie walker x reader smut where he’s very subby and unexpirienced

thank you 🧎🏻‍♀️

a/n; omgomg absolutely r u kidding me rn ? fem reader. obvi 17+ and intended for mature audiences .

movie night 💿 - c, walker ,,

it's crazy what an innocent movie night at kirby's can end up as.

you and charlie sat in opposite corners of the spacious living room, watching stab III (per charlie's insistence). it had just started and you were already bored. the movie wasn't bad, per se, you had just seen it so many times before.

and well, you had always found charlie walker more interesting.

you'd always thought of him as attractive, having spent many a night with your fingers deep inside of you, imagining they were his, imagining what he would sound like, whimpering for you and your touch.

you knew he felt the same, if not, similar, about you. from the way he insisted on walking up the stairs after you (iykyk), to the untrackable count of times you've caught him eyeing you up and down, as though he was praying he would be gifted by the gods with x-ray vision.

but every time you got too close, he'd shut it down with a friendly remark. every. damn. time.

"that's actually really nice of you, thanks y/n,"

"haha, you don't mean that. funny, though."

"i think you look pretty nice, too,"

it drove you crazy, just how oblivious he was to your advances. the way the tv screen lit up his blown pupils, fascinated as he watched one of his favorite movies for probably the 1,000th time, made you bite your lip to contain the anything-but-holy thoughts ravaging your mind.

you were tired of sitting around, doing nothing about this ever-growing crush.

whilst everybody had their eyes glued to the screen, watching some girl get chased through her home, you pulled out your small iphone and clicked on charlie's contact. you had to do something he couldn't ignore, something he couldn't look over.

you clicked on the option to attach a photo to the text message. you scrolled through your camera roll until you found it.

the photo was of you, in your bedroom, in your mirror, seemingly trying on lacy, dark purple, lingerie. there was no shot he was taking this with friendly intentions.

you to charlieee <33 : *(1) attachment*

you waited a few moments before texting him again

you to charlieee <33 : oops, wrong person . sry. 😊

you watched as he reached for his back pocket at the sound of a notification.

and how his face, once painted with curiosity, twisted into shock, sights forced on the device. you had to bite back a smirk as he looked up at you.

you pretended that you were watching the movie and gave no attention to the boy whose pants were getting tighter by the second.

he cleared his throat before settling back on the couch, typing out a reply.

charlie to y/n🤩 : it's okay haha

charlie to y/n🤩 : do you mind me asking who that was meant for?

you to charlieee <33 : why does that matter 2 u?

charlie to y/n🤩 : i just want to know if you're seeing someone, or if it was for jill or kirby, yk?

charlie to y/n🤩 : not that i care if you're seeing someone!! that's really one of my business, forget i said anything

you to charlieee <33 : lmao but char, its ok if u do

charlie to y/n🤩 : what do you mean by that?

you to charlieee <33 : follow me and find out ;)

you casually got up and exited the living room, successfully not turning any heads. you found the guest bathroom and entered.

it was actually very nice, the lights were bright and luminescent, and the shower, sink, and toilet were spotless.

you waited a few minutes, sitting on the sink counter, before the door opened, revealing the one and only.

"what took you so long?" you teased flashing a smile. "i was debating whether or not i actually wanted this, well i do want this, very much so, but i was just-" he was rambling.

"well, you're here now, aren't you, charlie?" you slightly whispered before pulling him towards you by his shirt, settling in between your legs.

he was stiff as a board, he didn't know what he could do. you noticed this and grabbed his hands from his sides and placed them lowly on your waist.

you placed your arms around his neck very lazily. "you want this?" you looked into his eyes, which were dazed and hazy, seemingly drowning in dopamine.

he nodded. "mhm, yeah," he was breathless, becoming so impatient, needing to feel your lips on his.

you chuckled softly to yourself before finally giving the boy what he wanted. the kiss started out slow but heated up quickly as you started to tangle your fingers in his hair.

you swiped your tongue along his bottom lip and his mouth fell open easily, allowing it in.

charlie gripped your hips tightly. "easy, tiger. i'm not going anywhere," you pulled away slightly to say. this did not make him let up. there were surely going to be bruises in the place of his hands by tomorrow.

you began kissing down his jaw and neck, exploring and searching for a sweet spot. he whimpered particularly needily at one area on his collarbone and you attacked it.

he began running his hands up and down your sides, underneath your shirt. you translated his wandering hands and helped throw your top off. he tried, truly, to keep his eyes on your face and not on your chest but how could he? <33

"so, so, so beautiful," he whispered, leaning down slightly to knead your covered breasts. "too many clothes, baby. take 'em off for me, hm?" you more told him than asked.

like the good boy he wanted to be for you, charlie was quick to remove every garment on his body, save for his boxers.

you pulled your miniskirt off and were left in a laced, pale pinky-shade of matching bra and panties.

he took a small step back and stared at you intensely, like he wanted to say something. "spit it out, char." you almost scolded him.

"i-it's just, um, i've n-never done anything like this... before..." he looked down as though it was a shameful thing.

you smiled at his tenderness. "c'mere, love," you quietly uttered before pulling him in between your legs once again. you felt his hard length pressed against your middle but ignored the euphoria to focus on what mattered.

"look at me, char. that does not make me want you any less, it's actually kinda cute. listen, i'll guide you through it, if you wish to continue, that is. if you don't, we can get dressed and leave like nothing happened. what do you want to do, baby?" you reassured him as he stared into your eyes thoughtfully.

"i wanna keep going," he breathed out. "good," you hummed, drawing his lips to yours again. you hopped off of the counter, forcing your lips apart by the sheer height difference between you two.

you pushed him against the bathroom door and lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him. "w-what are you doing?!" he panicked slightly. "i'm gonna take real good care of you, m'kay, love? now, be a good boy for me and relax," you purred, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs.

the pet name turned his stomach and made him slip a small whimper. he unfroze his muscles and relaxed, per your request.

you kept your doe eyes on the flushed boy's face as your pulled his boxers down, making his dick spring out, hitting his stomach.

you tore your eyes from his face and focused your attention on his member.

he was big, huge. his slit crying with precum and veins ran up and down the length of it. your wide eyes softened when you heard a needy whine coming from the man above you.

you decided he's waited long enough, so you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. the moan/groan he let out, made you smile, and lock eyes with charlie once again.

"fuck, feels good," he said through half-lidded eyes as you began to suck on his angry, red, tip.

"so vulgar. bad boy," you teased with a grin. the sight of you beneath him, on your knees, a smile bigger than the whole sky plastered across your face as his dick leaned against your chin, could've caused him to release a load on your pretty face right there.

but he didn't. he wanted, needed, to be your good, good, boy <3.

"mmm, no. i'm good, i'm so good, only for you. just for you, mommy," the name merely slipped out, he swore, but it caused you to moan whilst his dick was down your throat, causing a very pleasurable vibration around his cock, causing him to involuntarily cum down your throat.

"sh-shit, 'm sorry," he was quick to apologize for cumming so quickly as you pull your jaw off of him. "say that again," you demanded with a scratchy voice, but needier undertones were detected. "w-what, i'm sorry?"

"no, before that,"

"m-mommy?" charlie squeaked.

"fuck."

from the cold tiles biting at the skin of your knees to shimmying off your panties and sitting back down on the counter, you knew you needed him, all of him. right here, right now.

this time, you didn't have to pull him toward you, he naturally gravitated to the comfort of the in-between of your plush thighs. "wanna fuck me? huh?" you asked, grabbing his cock and sliding the tip up and down your folds.

"more than anything, mommy," he whimpered, dreamily. "fuck, baby," you whined as you guided him inside of you.

the stretch was almost impossible. you both moan in synchrony. the tightness of your walls was far better than charlie could've ever imagined when he pumped his fist up and down his length on lonely nights.

"oh my god, momma. i've dreamed and dreamed about this," he whispered in your ear after you gave him the go-ahead to move. his thrusts started out slow and tame but sped up quickly.

the hold he had on your thighs was mighty as he chased his high. "gimme your hand," you managed to speak through the ecstasy. "w-why?" he slowed down, only slightly.

"just- just give it to me," you gasped as his tip pushed against your g-spot. he lifted his left hand and put it in your right.

you shaped it into a 'thumbs up' stance and moved in down onto your clit. "draw circles," you told him. he picked it up quickly and continued fucking you.

your nailed fingers tugged and pulled at his hair, making him into a moaning, whimpering, mess. "shit, fuck! i can't go for much longer. can i please do it inside? please, please, please, mommy?" he begged and you nodded. "i'm on the pill, doll. go ahead, fill me up." you couldn't say no to his beautiful, fucked out, face.

a few more sloppy thrusts into your cunt and soon, he had you loaded. he stared down at his cock going in and out of you, lubed by his sperm, and he could've came again at the sight.

it wasn't too long after that you felt your own earth-shattering release, clinging onto the broad shoulders of the man above you. it rippled through you like an ocean current.

you stayed intertwined with each other for a few more moments, catching your breath, before charlie spoke.

"if my calculations are correct, roman bridgers should be getting revealed as ghostface right now."

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

can I please get headcannons for the bones boys taking you out on a first date? Thank you so much for writing for bones!

A/N: anything for my bones boys

Booth would definitely do something unconventional. Something fun, unexpected, something that was a bit competitive, but mostly something where he could show off.

"Really?" you almost laughed as you stood in front of the entrance. "The fair?"

"Oh, come on. When was the last time you did something like this?" He nudged you on your shoulder, wagging his eyebrows at you.

He would then proceed to win you a giant stuffed bear at the duck shoot.

"What?" he shrugged nonchalantly, "Like's hard?"

"Not for you apparently," you teased. "Though I expect being a ranger turned FBI agent probably helps."

You started walking backwards enjoying the challenging look in his eyes.

"Are you trying to rial me up?" he questioned, smirking at you.

You leaned in close to him, enjoying the way his breathing increased. "Depends, how easy do you fluster?"

You pulled away, making your way towards the ring toss.

"Oh, I see how it is," Booth shouted as he trailed after you, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

The first date with Booth would solely about getting to know you, making you laugh, and gauging just how comfortable he could be around you. It would absolutely end with him being a giant tease and kissing you on the corner of your mouth or your temple.

Hodgins, rich (so rich he doesn't even know how rich), Hodgins would try and impress you. At least that was his first thought. Private and obscenely expensive dinner? Check. Expensive car to get you there? Check.

But like many things in Jack's life, it never really went according to plan.

"Oh, come on!" Jack grumbled at the flat tire. "I just had the car serviced. I can't believe this."

It was only when you started laughing that he relaxed enough to look at you.

"What?" He asked a bit in disbelief. Crushing thoughts about how this was the worst first date to never actually even start diminished at the sight your smile.

"I don't think I've seen you this stressed since you tried to hide TNT experiment from Cam," you said laughter dying down.

"Hey, that civil war exhibit didn't need it as much as us," he reasoned, a smile now stretching across his own face as he leaned against his car.

You mirrored his movements, shoulder pressed against his as you leaned against the car.

"I wanted this to be perfect. But just about everything seems to have gone wrong."

"Well, it's a good thing the night isn't over yet," you looked around. "You know, I think we're close to the diner."

"You can't be serious," he laughed. A mixture of disbelief and awe.

"Dead. I never needed anything fancy anyways - just you Jack."

From that moment, he knew that he wasn't ever going to mess it up. You were it for him.

Sweets would want to do anything where the two of you could just talk. We know he's done a pottery class before so something along those lines. Really anything where he got to just look at you with a big grin on his face and listen to every word that came out of your mouth.

"Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"Your chicken is burning."

"Oh, shit."

You let out a laugh that made him forget all about the charred chicken. He, in hindsight, should have known better than to plan a cooking class as your first date. Not when you distracted him so easily he could chop a finger off. Definitely not his best idea.

"Here, we can just share mine," you said as you fed him some of your food. All teasing smiles and delicious prolonged eye contact.

Definitely not his worst date idea.

Wendell is one for simplicity. He wants to get to know you, but he also doesn't want to go overboard and scare you off. He'd plan for a simple dinner (your pick) and make a walk around the city.

The street lights illuminated the city, a cool breeze rushing past you. You tried your best not to seem cold - you'd opted for looks- not practically. Now you were paying the price for it.

A sudden rush of warm hit you, you looked up at Wendell who'd wordlessly placed his jacket over your shoulders.

"Wendell-"

"Don't even mention it. Can't have you getting sick now, can I?" He gently nudged your shoulder with his own as you walked side by side. "Wouldn't want you to rain check the next date."

"The next one?" you prodded - warmth washing over your cheeks. "Someone is presumptuous," you teased.

"Nah, just optimistic," He smiled brightly at you. "So, what do ya say?"

"I think your odds are looking pretty good," you looped your arm to hold on to his.

Wendell wouldn't necessarily consider himself a betting man, but he'd say he won out on this one.

Vincent was quiet sure how he'd managed it. It was all a bit of blur if he was honest. One second you both were discussing how no number before a thousand contains the letter a, and the next he had asked you out. And you'd said yes.

He almost thought he'd dreampt it, really. You'd had to call out his name twice before he blinked himself back into reality.

Now he stood in front of your door holding flowers that were wilting away by the second - he swore he'd just gotten them and they looked pristine.

He let out a sigh, knuckles frozen over the door. This would be, fine. You already said yes. Oh, God.

Knuckles knocking against the door, he frantically smoothed out his hair.

"Vincent!"

You leaned in for a hug, crushing the flowers, but he couldn't bring himself to care. You pulled away giving him this brilliant smile that put him at ease.

"Are those for me?"

"Wha- yes. Yes, they are for you." He handed you the roses. "Did you know over 30,000 rose varieties exist today?"

You let out a small laugh, eyes still sparkling. "I didn't, but thank you for telling me."

That smile of your really did put him at ease. This would be fine - this would be great - because he was with you.

When Colin asked you to go out with him to the Slasherthon at the local movie theater he wasn't actually sure you'd say yes. But he figured the worst you could say was no - or you know, laugh at him until he fell into an endless abyss of shame.

Either would be fine.

He expected the abyss.

He did not expect you to say yes. Let alone actually show up. But there you were in a Jason Voorhees t-shirt all smiles as he walked up to you.

"Are you ready for lots of gore and eating our weight in popcorn?" You asked practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. He'd never seen anything more lively or beautiful in his life.

"A person after my own heart," he said dramatically - hand placed over his own heart.

"Come on, Colin," you grabbed his hand pulling him into the theater. As you led him away he realized the abyss option would have been much worse than he had anticipated.

You were a light shining into his abyss.

Aubrey would take you to a nice sit down restaurant. He spent the better half of the week trying to decide where exactly to take you. He'd finally settled on a restaurant you had been talking about trying for a month now.

"Aubrey, how did you know I wanted to eat here?" You asked, leaning forward. Your eyes excitedly bouncing between the menu and Aubrey.

"You've been talking about it," he shrugged, trying his hardest to be nonchalant about it.

"Aubrey- I mentioned it once, like, a month ago." You laughed a bit in disbelief.

"And?"

"And how do you remember something like that?"

"It sounded important to you, why wouldn't I want to remember it?"

He'd be lying if he didn't say he enjoyed that look on your face. A mixture of disbelief and being heard - actually heard.

"Now, I'm thinking we go family style on this bad boy and see what all the fuss is about." Aubrey leaned forward, both of you so close to the other. If the flowers in the middle of the table weren't in the way he just might have leaned in for kiss.

"You sure you can leave some food for me?" You teased, your eyes sparkling in a way that made Aubrey realize he never wanted to see your eyes without it.

"Sweetheart, I'd leave all of it for you if you asked."

"Liar," you laughed.

"Alright some of it, but that's better than none!"

[rafayelsss]

CHARCOAL PANCAKES ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ content: rafayel x gn!reader, no y/n, clingy raf, calls you angelfish in place of y/n

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Rafayel keeps distracting you from cooking in the morning...

“Rafayel.”

All you’re met with is a sleepy grumble and a soft nuzzle to your neck, feeling his bangs gently tickle your skin as the strands brush against you.

“Rafayel.”

You repeat sternly, setting down the spatula to slightly crane your head back to look at his pouty little face, nestled in the crook of your neck. He lets out a dramatic groan as he wraps his arms around your waist tighter.

“What’s the problem, angelfish? Do you hate me so much to not let me even cuddle you a liiiittle bit?” Rafayel whined, putting on his best puppy dog eyes on display. 

You could never hate him, of course not… But you’d doubt either of you would want burnt pancakes for breakfast. Really, you should have been prepared for him to pull this act again, he, without fail, always got so… Clingy in the mornings. Not that he wasn’t clingy already, but it's turned up to the max in the early hours, it seems. 

Rafayel hung onto you like a koala every time. And you, being the figurative giving tree, could barely even have the heart to push him away. Even though you know you both will end up eating breakfast with either a slight charred flavor, or scraps you could salvage that dropped on the floor.

You sighed at his theatrics, fully aware that this would be a regular occurrence. His needy self had a way of disarming your self-control, and you couldn’t help but indulge in him.

“Rafayel, it’ll be much comfier to cuddle on the couch when I’m done cooking.” You ruffle his hair as you try to extract yourself from his grip, but it only tightens further.

“You’re just trying to get me to leave.” Rafayel started, his hands running up and down your sides in an admittedly soothing manner, silently, and slowly trying to persuade you to drop the pan and return his affections.

You hold in a snort of amusement. Of course you were trying to shoo him off. You couldn’t exactly focus on cooking a decent meal with a fully-grown man’s arms constantly around you.

But you couldn’t tell him that. No, Rafayel, being the brat he is, would whine and groan about it if you were to tell him, and constantly quote it down to the exact intonation and tone if you tried to hug him, saying something like, ‘I thought you didn’t want to be in this fully-grown man’s arms?’.

You smile at him and rest your free hand over one of his that stayed stationed at your waist, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand in circles. “I promise it’s not about wanting to exile you from my presence. It’s about the fact that I really need to pay attention here if I don’t wanna burn anything down.”

Rafayel protested by giving your hips a sudden squeeze, earning a startled soft gasp from you.

“Am I really distracting you that much? Because if that’s the case, good. Your eyes, ears and lips should always be on me. We can always order in.”

“Most shops around here don’t even open until hours later, Raf.”

You see his brows crease as you watch him weigh over his options in his head. Gears were a-turnin’ in motion in that little noggin. Eventually, he relented, loosening his grip on you yet not pulling away completely to peck your cheek.

Rafayel finally departs reluctantly to move over to the side of the smooth marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest, he still had a look of childish unwillingness as he leaned on it.

“Fiiiiine. As long as you promise to pay me back with your full attention later.”

Who could ever forget. You roll your eyes lightheartedly at his insistence.

“Deal, full attention guaranteed. Now help me finish up with plating this before we end up with a culinary disappointment.”

[aniharas]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯

pairing: anakin skywalker x jedi!fem!reader

summary: in the soul-shattering aftermath of geonosis, anakin finds solace in forbidden affection, risking everything for a stolen moment under the moonlight.

warnings: angst, ptsd, trauma, phantom pains. anakin just needs a hug.

wc: 4k+ oneshot

a/n: this is mainly written from anakin's pov and detailing his thoughts. i was just craving an angst fest don't mind me. likes and reblogs deeply appreciated :) inbox is open! enjoy &lt;3

The light-polluted nights of Coruscant were not very kind to the Chosen One.

It was becoming a ritual: stirring at the latest hour in a sweat in the night. Almost an hourly occurrence. Poor Anakin would cry out, reaching for the ghost of an arm that was no longer there. The memories of the dreadful incident came around often like an old acquaintance, one who didn't quite get the hint that their presence was not wanted.

The terrors were definitely unwanted. Each nightmare that plagued his mind, almost every waking moment, every phantom pain was a painstaking reminder of his own incompetence. He was too weak, too blind to stop what happened. The flash of the red saber. The brief, agonizing, piercing hot sensation in his right arm followed by a sharp breeze. The unmistakable smell of his own charred flesh. The events of Geonosis were far too grisly to forget. The monstrous nature of his failure grasped and invaded his mind with its tendrils, ensuring nothing but pain as it threatened to pull him down under. 

What made matters worse was the useless words of the Jedi Council when he sought their advice. Anakin nearly trudged out of the Council Room in laughter. Did they know how ridiculous they sounded? Firstly, he couldn't confide in anyone or simply desire their comfort. Secondly, his own limbs were considered part of things that he couldn't stay attached to, and the young Jedi found that piece of grim advice hilarious. He wondered if their powers with the Force and their lightsabers were the only reason that they were respected.

The cybernetic arm that he was given only did so much. It functioned like a normal arm and hand; it simulated the sense of touch. It was a piece of technology revered by many and saved those who used it. Whenever he retired to his quarters, he would simply stare at it, desperately hoping that it would complete him, hoping that the many credits invested into his new limb would save his soul from the relentless torment that lurked whenever the sun when down.

It was never the same. How could it ever be the same? Despite the fact that Dooku had severed his right arm, Anakin felt like he had broken his whole body and spirit. One would describe his state as one of constant grieving, for his arm, for himself. He dreaded training, missions, meditating. Eating seemed to be a monumental chore for the boy who was destined to save the galaxy.

His body was at a disconnect with his own mind, and no amount of tinkering or relentless practice with the replacement would help.  It was like everyone else was above ground, moving at a normal pace, and he was stuck at the bottom of the ocean, unable to control the chaos of the water around him.

He had hoped that the nightly perils would cease in their frequency with time. As the years passed, his hope diminished, at the very least wishing that he could get used to the feeling. 

On another lonely, sleepless night, Anakin had woken from phantom pain. Defeated, he slid himself off the edge of his bed, letting his body slump to the floor. He was the phrase 'human wreck' incarnate, his now grown-out hair askew; sweat and tears mingling as they slid down his face and neck; the pale, vein-ridden skin of his half-bare body being proof of his negligence towards himself. It was only on occasion that he could sleep alongside the moon, with no troubling thoughts to bother him. The rest of those nights were akin to psychological torture.

"Maybe it was karma for all the times I used the Force to extract a confession from somebody. Is that what that felt like?" he said to himself.

At times, he liked to pause as if there was someone there who would respond.

He wanted a response, longed for someone to just be there. Someone could sit across from him and say that his pain was superficial, that he was being overdramatic, and Anakin would still be grateful for the words. Intimate touch was constantly on his mind; not the kind of touch that led to something amorous, but the kind that could leave his battle-torn skin covered in goosebumps, the kind that would make him hyper-aware of every inch of his body.

He brushed his human fingers over the forearm of his replacement, wanting to know if there was some way he could make himself feel that intimacy. His desperation to simply feel was slowly driving him mad, and he once again let himself lose to his rage. A tear seemed to poetically slip down Anakin's cheek as his sweat-ridden fingers fumbled around with the latches, dislodging his mechno-arm and flinging it towards his wall with enough strength he could muster. A pained grunt escaped his lips.

As it slammed against the wall, it made a loud, yet unsatisfying 'thud'. Some of the casing popped off, the wires and inner mechanisms becoming exposed as it fell unceremoniously to the floor. The emotional toll and the sudden action it wrought had left Anakin out of breath. His glossy eyes trailed from the wreckage down to the emptiness where it should have been, and at that moment, he felt truly pathetic. He desperately wanted to blame anything else, but it seemed that with every obstacle, he only had himself to blame. Did he truly deserve this? He started to believe so.

It was then that his ears picked up a soft knock at his door. Anakin had shot up from his seat on the floor, hurrying over to retrieve his arm and fix it back into place. Disoriented from the absence of sleep, he managed to trudge his way to his door, carefully watching his own feet so he wouldn't stumble. Almost like a child.

When he opened the door, the last thing he expected was to see her. Why was she even here this late at night? She didn't even live in this part of the Knights' Billet. Had one of the masters sent her? Her expression and her body language were timid, seemingly afraid to cross the line; but her ever-so-captivating eyes shone with curiosity. Anakin caught those eyes trying to sneak a glance behind him, tilting his head as he made himself comfortable leaning against his doorway.

"Did someone send you? Tell them I'm not in the mood," he said rather curtly without another glance, taking a step back as he moved to close the door. He was growing exhausted with how the Jedi expected so much of him but didn't even respect him.

Her hand seemed to spring out to hold the door open in retaliation. He was growing tired of the antics, ready to glare her down with daggers, until he saw something different in the girl. Her stance was firm as she held open the door. He saw that her eyes held a brewing mix of resolve and desperation as if silently pleading for him to hear her out.

"I was walking by, and I heard a noise. Are you okay?"

Time seemed to stop as she voiced her concern, leaving Anakin breathless once again. There was an undeniable pang in his heart, threatening to set loose what had been building up inside of him. Any other day, he would've brushed her off and forced the door shut without a care in the world. She was jeopardizing her place in the Jedi Order, and his as well. How could she afford to be so careless?

So careless about her duties…but she cared about him.

Struggling to voice his answer, he found himself nearly paralyzed with uncertainty, not knowing how to proceed. The mere act of them meeting this late at night had already broken so many rules...but was he willing to sacrifice some rules to save his own sanity? He saw a look of pity flash over her eyes, and he stayed frozen as she quietly shuffled in, closing the door behind her in a similar matter.

Anakin was sure about the fact that he needed someone to confide in, to share his agony, to comfort his long-tortured soul. It was only until she had uttered her first words to him that night that it dawned on him: she would see him as weak, and not the Chosen One. The dichotomy of his needs and fears clashed about in his brain. He needed a companion, but he was afraid of losing her approval, anyone's approval. Everyone's approval.

"What's wrong, Anakin?"

Her voice had cut through the growing torment of his thoughts, leaving it silent, those three words alone threatening to unravel him. He avoided the piercing gaze that was threatening to see right through him.

"Just insomnia," he muttered.

When his eyes returned to her, he immediately knew that his answer wasn't good enough. Who was he kidding? He realized that he hadn't even bothered to look presentable, hair messy and skin glistening with sweat. As if to mock his own thoughts, a gust of air blew in from his conditioning unit, making the tear streaks down his face feel like they were freezing. He watched her carefully as her eyes examined these very things, a flush gracing her cheeks as she briefly glanced at his bare chest. The faint glow of the stars pouring in from the window only seemed to accentuate it, illuminating her skin. She was pretty.

The very thought angered him. Why did beauty distract him so in such a vulnerable moment of his life? It was a weakness he was not proud of, not only because it represented what he could not have, but what he struggled to be himself. Every rule in his life seemed like it was set in place to keep him from having beauty, being beautiful. He couldn't help but break those rules as his eyes raked over her figure. He saw how her hair cascaded down to delicately frame her face, skin that was once covered modestly by Jedi robes, eyes that seemed to tantalize him even if her intentions meant otherwise.

Would it be so terrible if he indulged in these desires in his moment of need?

Anakin shook his head to his own thoughts, causing her to tilt hers in confusion. Of course, it would be terrible, but why was it terrible in the first place? He was suffering, feeling pathetic with his appearance and in his mind. It was not terrible to need someone, but why was guilt beginning to consume these selfish desires? Maybe it was terrible to need her. He barely knew her, and she took the same vows as he did.

"I understand," she whispered, seeming rather awkward and sheepish compared to before. She avoided his gaze as she turned her back on him. As she began to reach for the doorknob, Anakin was surprised to see that she hesitated. Was it too hopeful to think that she felt the same? He called out for her, more despairingly than he intended to.

"Wait, I..." He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to take the plunge. It would be the start of a slippery slope he couldn't hope to dig her or himself out of. He knew that if he tried, it would be futile, so that must've been why he had the nagging feeling that he didn't even want out.

"I need you here."

He watched closely as her brows furrowed and her grip on the doorknob tensed, immediately realizing that his request might have been too bold, to say the least. His gaze fell to the floor as a wave of humiliation washed over him. If she had run off at that moment, he would've understood. However, as he gathered the courage to look up once more, he saw that she had stood still, eyes continuing to prod him for a better explanation. Swallowing the ever-growing lump in his throat, he leaned against the wall of his dormitory as he tried to find the words that would lead him down the slope. If it meant that he could find peace for one night, one hour, or even one minute, so be it.

"I need you here because…I am cursed. I'm cursed with an affliction I can't ever hope to cure. I feel like I'm at war with myself, and it haunts me to my soul."

Anakin paused, subconsciously holding his breath, unsure if he wanted to continue. All of this was most likely too heavy to hear, especially since she barely knew him. Did she care?

At that moment, as if to answer his silent query, she stepped forward and placed herself in front of him, standing so close he felt the warmth of her body. The scent of her freshly-washed hair polluted his senses, leaving him feeling melancholy. He watched in a trance as her brows furrowed in worry, tentatively lifting up her hand. Her fingers gently prodded at his cybernetic, outlining the broken casing. Once her curious eyes rose back up to meet his, there was a silent acknowledgment. Understanding. It gave him the push to keep going, to muster the strength to hold open the floodgates of his heart. He stopped holding his breath, his sorrowful gaze falling to the floor.

“I'm...completely lost. I've strayed so far from the path of the Jedi that I can no longer see it…and I am afraid I don't even want it. I'm constantly told that I shouldn't feel this way...that hurting is selfish, and that I should focus on the needs of others before my own, to live up to my prophecy," Anakin muttered, his tone turning bitter and his brows furrowing in anger at the last word.

"But how can I do that when I am disconnected from myself? When I don’t feel like the Chosen One? I don’t feel like anyone is choosing me.”

Anakin’s eyes traveled up her figure once more, her minuscule and simple movements making them glaze over with desperation. He found the way her shoulders gradually moved up and down with each breath captivating, the flutter of her lashes with each blink. He took her by the hand that was calmly tracing his forearm, enveloping it firmly in his. She watched him as her breath halted in suspense, her fingers seeming hesitant to move.

“I need you here, not because I expect you to fix me, but because I just need someone. Anyone. I need you to choose me, to touch me,” he whispered, his voice shaking as he watched her lace her fingers with his own. “Please, I need this...bittersweet taste of relief. I can't bear this alone anymore.”

After what seemed like an eternity of silence with their hands in each other’s, she let go, much to Anakin’s chagrin. However, she lifted her hand once again, gradually bringing her hand to his chest, laying it flat above his heart. The sensation sent waves of warmth across the bare skin of his chest, the rippling feeling leaving goosebumps in its wake. He was certain that she could feel the deafening pounding of his heart. A faint gasp left his lips as she began to slide her hand down to his abdomen, his muscles in that area tensing. He didn’t expect to feel this hyper-sensitive to someone’s touch.

She flinched a little at his reaction, causing her to stop her motions. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looked up at him timidly.

“Is that okay?” she asked, her voice unsure, as if she was testing the waters.

Hearing her words, Anakin’s vision was obscured by his own tears…tears of relief. He savored the straining feeling in his chest and throat as he fought to hold back his sobs, thankful he was even feeling anything like that at all. A slow blink of his eyes betrayed him as a brief stream of hot tears slid down his cheeks, which she quickly wiped away with her free hand. She seemed rather flustered when that very action caused more tears to fall in succession, awkwardly wiping more tears as quickly as she should.

The act made Anakin chuckle briefly, nearly surprising himself with the sound. It seemed to surprise her too, in turn making her laugh along with him. Realizing that this warming feeling was contagious, they both began to erupt into giggling fits, ending with a hush from her, muttering something about “quiet hours”. Though it had seemed silly, Anakin had wished they never stopped.

Again, damn the Jedi with all their rules.

During her stay, they sat together at the foot of his bed as Anakin slowly began to unravel the darkness that had been plaguing him since Geonosis. They spoke in hushed murmurs, afraid that someone might find them together. Their conversation would cease at the mere sound of a distant footstep, the creak of the conditioning vent, and muffled voices from the other side of his dorm wall. 

However, Anakin thought all the sneaking around to be worth it. Her presence and her conversation proved to help more than he could have hoped for. Soon enough, he was pleading for her to come back the next night. A shy expression overtook her features. Something around the lines of “You like me that much?” was uttered, and those very words ignited the beginning of an insatiable fire within him. Her wide, curious, and sparkling eyes continued to feed that very fire.

Anakin wasn’t too sure when he started to kiss her.

He wasn’t even aware of when they had closed so much distance between each other. However, her receptiveness pushed those questions far away, his thoughts taking form in the shape of her. A rush of emotions flooded through him, momentarily drowning out the misery that consumed his existence. In that singular, stolen moment, he felt a profound peace, something that he thought he might never experience again.

Every touch, every gentle brush against him sent electric currents coursing through his body. His senses were enveloped by her, reveling in the taste of her, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with his. Her hands began to clutch onto his frame desperately, her nails digging in and leaving red trails in their wake. The world around him slowly began to fade into insignificance, his focus narrowing to the raw sensation of being alive, of feeling something so intensely beautiful. For that fleeting moment, Anakin allowed himself to be consumed by this sinful, blissful indulgence of the present. It was a sanctuary from his own mind. After a lifetime of monochrome, he was overjoyed to feel anything at all. It was a bittersweet joy, knowing that this kiss was fleeting, and that it came at a heavy cost. As their lips reluctantly parted, Anakin’s mind was only filled with anticipation for the next. He watched her, his eyes filled with a mixture of reluctance and longing, as she began to pull away, her breath slightly ragged. A part of him wants to hold onto her desperately, to stop the inevitable departure. “Wait,” he called out, his voice feeble and vulnerable as he cautiously took her hand in his. “I-i…don’t want you to go. This is…it's everything to me.”

Anakin hated how desperate he sounded in his pleas, embarrassed at the state Geonosis had reduced him to. He almost despised the fact that he needed this…that the Chosen One needed someone else to feel so alive. But the way she flooded his mind was such a high for him, and he never wanted to come down.

“Please,” he begged, his voice nearly giving out as his eyes began to glisten. “I know the risk you’d be taking, but…one more night, please. The same time, tomorrow night. We can figure out what to do then.” He watched as her resolve wavered, noting the longing in her eyes. Anakin knew she felt a pull to him as well, it’s what caused her to come and investigate him in the first place. As she took a deep breath, his thoughts came to a halt, ensuring utter silence to hear what she had to say. “Okay, Skywalker. One more night. But…if we get caught, it’s on you,” she scolded, her arms crossing.

Anakin found her attitude endearing, answering her with a simple nod. Despite her playful nature, he understood the weight of her words. He leaned in, allowing his forehead to rest against hers, enjoying the subtle heat that radiated from her, a stark contrast to the cold room they were in. Pulling away with a lingering touch and a final gaze, they parted ways. As the door closed behind her, a profound sense of emptiness washed over Anakin. Her absence only made him feel the weight of his desperation. The taste of her still lingered on his lips, and it nearly made him want to throw the door open and chase after her. However, as much as he desired that, he couldn’t bring himself to.

As he returned to his empty bed, he decided he would just have to wait until she would return, his newly found moonlight, who had illuminated his dark and harrowing night, who had caused the waves in his heart to surge and swell.

He found comfort in the fact that the moon would always return to the sky.

-

As each night passed, their next clandestine meeting was what occupied Anakin’s thoughts. Every single moment until then felt like an eternity, nearly stretching his patience to the limit. His thoughts were never without her.

It was especially bad whenever he would sit in the Temple’s garden and meditate with Obi-Wan. 

The afternoon after that encounter with her, Anakin and Obi-Wan sat cross-legged across from each other, eyes closed as they sought inner peace with the Force.

Anakin struggled to quiet his mind, to let go of the constant longing that plagued him. He tried focusing on his breathing, to sink into stillness, but the image of her under the moon invaded his every thought. Her face, her touch, her taste, her warmth–it consumed his mind like a raging wildfire.

As Obi-Wan searched through his own mind, he couldn’t help but sense a disturbance. A subtle ripple, a flicker of distraction that emanated from his young apprentice. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to search for what was troubling Anakin.

After a while, Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes, gaze fixed on his padawan as his gentle voice broke the silence. “Anakin, I sense something is weighing on your mind. Is everything alright?”

Anakin’s eyes remained closed, feeling sweat break out on the nape of his neck as he fought to maintain his composure. Why did Obi-Wan even bother asking? He was never going to tell his master, and he knew that. That didn’t prevent the feeling of guilt that started to accompany the flurry of his emotions. “I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin responded after a beat of silence. “I’m just…worried about my knighthood. That is all.”

Obi-Wan’s expression softened, his eyes taking on a knowing, yet understanding look. Of course, he knew his apprentice hiding something. He would consider himself a bad master otherwise. He could feel the turmoil radiating from Anakin, yet his desire to remain elusive. He wanted to respect his privacy, but his duty as a mentor compelled him to push further.

“Anakin, you know it is one of my many responsibilities to guide and support you, but I cannot do that if you hide things from me,” Obi-Wan said. “Whatever it is, just remember you don’t have to face it alone.”

With that, Anakin’s eyes fluttered open before meeting his master’s, a mixture of guilt and longing to open up to him. He hated that he was in an order where judgment and the potential consequences of desire prevented him from confiding in his mentor, his best friend, his brother.

“Believe me, master, I am more than thankful for your concern. But this…this is something I have to figure out on my own,” Anakin replied, his voice displaying a hint of vulnerability. “I will be fine.”

Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. He knew that part of becoming a Jedi involved navigating your own path, but he couldn’t help but feel like there were deeper issues at play. However, he was willing to let it go for the sake of supporting his apprentice.

“Very well, young Skywalker,” he conceded, a touch of sadness in his voice. He reached over to give a reaffirming pat to Anakin’s shoulder. “I trust that you find your way, as you always do. Don’t forget that I am here, whenever you need me.”

Anakin nodded, letting his eyes fall shut once more as he continued to “meditate”.

Still, his moonlight danced through his mind, and he could only think about how long it would be until he could see her shine again.

a/n: ao3 saw it first! inbox is open!!

[lovebunnie]

“so are we just not gonna talk about it?”

spy looks over the edge of his cigarette to the scout, leaning against a wall in feigned nonchalance. he looks agitated with fingers curled into white knuckled fists. he looks ready to hit someone, spy thinks. ever the violent little thing.

“you will have to be more specific.”

scout scoffs. “thats’a no then.”

“say what you want, boy.” the spy exhales his smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

scout's nose crinkles as he steels himself as though preparing to weather a storm. the tension between them feels thick as the spy's already charred lungs feel even more strained. faint redness tinges the boy's cheeks and the spy knows that scout is trying not to cry.

"what good is it if you wont freakin' listen? whats the point in trying to say anything when every one of ya jerks look at me like im not in on it, like im the last to know. i have eyes." scout's frame shakes, turning to face the spy. "im not that stupid, i can connect the dots.”

“you are talking in circles. this game you are playing had no place among coworkers-“

“youre my father, you asshole.”

spy slowly takes his cigarette from his mouth. he lets the silence take hold of the room to mask the feeling of cold dread washing over him. it was never supposed to be this way. “ah, i see,” he mutters.

“yea,” scout spits, “been searching for the bastard my whole life and it freakin’ figures id meet him here, at the end of the world.”

“life is surely funny that way.”

“doesnt feel very funny.”

the spy watches scout shuffle his feet. “you were never supposed to find out like this.”

“dont give me that.” the scout hisses the words and the red raising in his cheeks disguises his smattering of freckles. the spy thinks he looks older like this, settled into his rage. “i wasnt never supposed to know, was i?”

he could lie. he has been lying his whole life and it came to him far easier. there was already a story at the tip of his tongue about waiting for the right time and place, about waiting for when all the bloodshed was over to finally embrace his role as a father. really, he should lie to save his own sanity and peace of mind in the workplace if nothing else.

“no, you were not.” however, the truth sneaks out of spy like an exhale.

the scout jerks a nod and looks away. his throat clicks with the swallowing of tears and the little boy from another lifetime ago is standing right in front of spy all of a sudden. the small hands that grabbed his fingers when he was a newborn now clench onto nothing. wide eyes once full of wonder were now unable to meet his own.

“you were just gonna, what, keep going here until one of us died? everyone was just going to keep this to themselves and let me rot with it?” the scout takes a deep breath. “my ma knows too, doesnt she? has known about it the whole freakin’ time i bet.” he deflates a bit at the mention of his mother.

“she wanted me to keep an eye on you,” the spy says.

at once, something gripes scout and suddenly the rage is back, sparking and sputtering with righteous fury. “jesus christ, again with the lies? you were gonna keep an eye on me, oh, like back when i was a kid and getting my lunch money taken? back when i had to earn my place in the neighborhood just to keep from getting pummeled?” he points a finger. “you never did anything even close to protect me. when ma couldnt pick me up from practice because she was home with the flu, it was benny who came to get me, not you. when i needed field trip permission slips signed, matty taught me how to forge a signature.” one finger becomes two and counts up in time with his words. “randy taught me how to tie my shoes. eddie knew where id always forget my backpack. sammy let me pick any candy i wanted when we went to the grocery store.”

the spy stays silent. no words come to him.

“and when i got here, who showed me where to put my things? it wasnt you spy, it was demo. when i had to ask about my shots getting delivered here, did you go out of your way to make it happen? no, medic did that too. did you ask me what i wanted for breakfast or was that heavy? did my father ever offer to upgrade my weapons or did engie do that?”

the scout, during his scolding, had involuntarily stepped closer and closer to the spy until they were in each other’s faces. the air felt thick, and spy wanted to cloak right now more than anything on earth.

scout steps back. “i didnt need a father then and i sure as hell dont need one now,” he says.

if the world was right and just, spy would apologize right now and say he regretted leaving his son as he did all those years ago. he would promise that the lies ended here. he would promise to start being the father scout deserved, better late then never.

but unfortunately, the world was how it was. “are you quite done?”

scout stares at him for a moment with his jaw somewhat dropped, and the spy feels his heart break at the realization that the scout had had hope in a different outcome.

“youre a real piece of work,” scout grumbles. “lets both forget this happened, okay? dont even bother trying to pretend to care, either. we should both just forget about each other like this, im too tired to deal with any more.” the scout takes a step back before a smirk tugs at his lips and he gives a watery snort. “ya know, life is funny that way. this time, i get to be the one to walk away.”

before spy can try to respond, the scout turns on his heel and walks away, as was his birth right, as was his nature.

like father, like son.

[ferigrieving]

born a weapon.

⊹ ࣪ i know there’s better brothers / but you’re the only one thats mine.

a.n tumblr user @mrchickennuggetjr this ones for you

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; ii. count to three ; iv. lost and found part two ; 5.3k words

the boy next to you was no longer touya todoroki, and hadn’t been for three months. he was a ghost of what once was, a charred remnant of hopes and dreams. he had buried that boy on a winter morning, kneeling in front of his funeral altar that had been given the love he never felt when he was alive. he had relished in the way his father wept, crying over what never was.

and he had found a home in you. the only person that he had left. the only person that came looking for him when they didn't find his body. the only person that mattered. 

you were the only one who heard him, late at night, weeping over what could have been. and you never told him, of course, because how would you tell a man who had been to hell and back that he still cried over his brothers and sister at night?

that didn’t matter.

touya leaned against you, propping his head up on your shoulder. the scars on his back pinched and stretched with the movement, and he felt himself tear up from the pain. but it was comfortable, being able to be intimate with you like this. when was the last time he had felt the touch of another human being?

he couldn't remember. and to be frank, he didn’t care. 

touya closed his eyes, inhaling your scent and savouring it. the way you felt against him was something he never wanted to forget. your warmth and your body pressed against his like two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly together. 

he let out a tired sigh, burying his face into your hair. everything felt so… easy. it wasn’t complicated.

it felt like it was just the two of you against the world. he felt a sense of comfort in the way your body slotted against his, the way your scent enveloped him, and the way you just *were* there. not minding his scars, his burns, or the way he looked. 

you didn’t mind any of it, you were comfortable with it. you were comfortable with him.

it felt like bliss.

but he felt the pain shoot across his body every which way , and he couldn’t stop the soft whine that slipped from his throat as his body stung and ached in an almost unbearable way. 

he swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the way his eyes were burning from tears that threatened to fall. he hated crying, but he felt safe here. with you. he clenched his eyes shut as he wrapped his arms around you, needing something to ground himself.

he wondered if the ache in his chest from missing his family was ever going to go away.

he pushed the thought away with a shaky breath, pushing you closer. he knew he could tell you how he felt. he was safe. he was allowed to be vulnerable with you. 

tears slipped down his face as he inhaled shakily, burying his face into your neck. 

"it hurts." he mumbled. "i miss them."

his grip on you tightened, hands clenching around your shirt. you knew touya enough to understand what he meant. his siblings didnt care when he was in distress, a pot threatening to boil over, but touya forgave them. because who would if he didnt?

"do you think they still remember me?” he repeated softly, swallowing the lump in his throat again.

he didn’t want you to see him cry, but he couldn’t stop the tears that were falling down his face. he felt so weak, so vulnerable. but at the same time, it was cathartic to get all these feelings out after he’d kept them in for so long.

“i think they remembers you. you’re– you’re their big brother.”

he let out a shaky breath as he reached for your hand, fingers tracing over the ridges on your knuckles. the scars on his back pinched again as he breathed and he couldn't help but wince, inhaling sharply and clenching his eyes shut. 

he didn’t want to cry. he needed to be strong for you, to be the way he thought you deserved to be. 

but it was hard when he missed his family, even if they never missed him.

“you think so?”

touya sounded like a child when he spoke, his voice small and soft, a tone he never used with anybody other than you. maybe because he knew he no longer had to pretend to be strong with you. you knew the soft spots of him that nobody else did. he was only seventeen, but to you he was twelve, he was ten, he was six, and he was four.

his shoulders hunched over and he pulled you closer, resting his chin on your head. it had been a long time since he'd had any sort of affection, and he craved it. even if it was from you, his closest friend, he needed it. 

he never had to pretend with you. you knew him better than anyone. his past and his future. his darkest secrets and his deepest thoughts.

"yeah, i think so." you murmur. “i would if you were my big brother.”

he couldn’t help the way his heart clenched. it was almost embarrassing how much your words had affected him, and he swallowed harshly to clear the lump in his throat. 

and he didn’t want to cry, but he felt safe with you. he felt safe to be vulnerable around you and he knew you would accept it. 

touya took a shaky breath, trying to swallow the onslaught of tears and feelings that were trying to bubble up. 

“can i be honest with you?”

“of course.”

“i want to go see my siblings.”

he words came out soft and quiet, almost like they weren’t meant for anyone else but himself, like a silent wish on a shooting star. they echoed in the still air, bouncing from the walls and ringing through your ears over and over again. i want to go see my siblings.

and when you didn’t respond, he spoke up again, sounding a little more desperate this time. he sounded like he needed something that he couldn’t ask for. 

"please."

the way he spoke, how soft he sounded and the way his voice cracked made your heart clench in your chest. you’d never heard touya sound like that before. 

he never asked for things, preferring to just do things himself or get someone else to do it. and now he was asking you? 

you swallowed, and shifted slightly so you could look at him. “what?”

his lips were pressed tightly together, and he looked vulnerable. more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him before. the look he gave you was so full of pleading and desperation that it made your chest ache. 

“please.” he repeated, and you heard a slight crack in his voice. “i need to see them.”

hearing the pleading edge in his voice, you shifted so that you were facing him directly. he looked almost childlike like this, pleading with you to do something, silently begging you with his eyes. 

you swallowed the lump in your throat, your heart panging at the almost painful look he had in his eyes.

"okay," you murmur quietly. "we'll go."

the change in his demeanor was instantaneous. it was like a child being promised a gift, the way he perked up. 

relief washed over his face, and his shoulders slumped slightly. he looked like he was about to cry again almost immediately. 

he didn’t say thank you. he didn’t need to. the relief on his face was enough, and the way his grip on you tightened slightly was another way of telling you that he appreciated you. 

“really?” he said softly, and there was a hint of hope in his voice that you’d never heard before. he looked… he looked scared. the usually confident, snarky touya looked scared. 

he reached out, grabbing your hands tightly. “you’d really do that?”

you nodded wordlessly, watching as touya stood up with an almost dazed look on his face.

he couldn’t believe it. you were really going to let him see his siblings. the people he missed the most in the world, the only people he loved. you were going to let him see them. he was going to see them again.

his eyes didn’t leave you, like he was worried you would change your mind.

your heart ached at the way he looked so desperate and hopeful. the way he looked almost disbelieving that you would go this far for him.

you pushed away the pain you felt and stood up too, reaching forward to grab his face in your hands and making him look at you. “yes, touya. i would do this for you.”

the look on his face was almost childish, and you almost laughed at how excited he looked. it was cute, how he immediately stood up and grabbed your hands tighter, as if you would disappear if he didn’t keep ahold of you. 

he needed this. he needed to see his brothers and sister again, even if they didn’t remember him. he needed closure, and he needed this moment. 

you wouldn’t take it away from him, no matter what.

his heart was beating faster than he thought it ever would, eyes fixated on you and refusing to look away. he didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want you to disappear on him. 

“tonight?” he asked suddenly, the words coming out almost rushed. 

he had to see them again, he needed to. he wanted to hold shouto and fuyumi and natsuo again. he wanted them to remember him, and he knew it would hurt if they didn’t, but it would still be worth it.

“yes,” you murmured, taking his hand and leading him out the fire escape. “before it gets dark.”

touya stayed close to your side as you two walked, almost hovering, like a bee to a flower. he was clearly a ball of nervous, excited energy, unable to stay still for long. every so often his hand would brush against yours and he’d shiver slightly, but he would stay as quiet as possible. 

his heart was racing, and his anxiety was through the roof, but he tried to push it down and stay calm. he didn’t want to think about the consequences of tonight, but about the good things that could come from it.

and as he stood in front of the house he was raised in, he couldnt help but have second thoughts.

touya couldn’t stop the way his throat felt tight, or the way his chest felt like it was being crushed. he was almost terrified to go inside, to knock on the door. 

what if they didn’t recognize him? what if they were angry that he was there? what if they hated him more than he already hated himself?

as the sun set over the todoroki estate, he could almost see the memories playing out before him. the nights spent hiding from his father, the days spent running around with his siblings playing games, and the cold nights spent shivering and huddling for warmth. 

there were a lot of awful memories too, but they were overshadowed by the good ones. or at least, he tried to make himself believe they did. 

“it looks the same.” he mumbled softly.

you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. you knew how nervous he was, and you tried your best to soothe some of his worries. 

he flinched slightly at the touch, but he quickly relaxed. your presence helped, he felt as if he could handle anything so long as you were with him, and he was grateful that you had agreed to come with him.

without a second thought, you took his hand and made your way to the back of the estate, where touya’s bedroom used to be, and popped open the lock as if it was second nature. you had snuck into his room nearly every day when he used to live here, and it surprised you to no end that you hadn’t gotten caught.

the feeling of nostalgia washes over touya the second his feet touched the floor. the room looked exactly the same as it had when he was fifteen. 

touya let out a shaky breath, the familiarity of his own room almost overwhelming him. he had missed this room, he had missed his bed and the small things that he’d had in this room. 

he walked up to the bed, running a hand over the sheets and sitting down on the soft mattress. it still felt like  his bed, and it still smelt like his room. nothing had changed, and it brought back memories of late night crying sessions and silent sobbings.

sobbings that, until now, he could still hear through the walls.

the sound almost made his blood freeze in his veins. he knew that sound, he recognized it instantly. he had spent many nights listening to shouto cry like that, and it made his heart hurt.

a part of him just wanted to sit against the wall and drown out shouto’s crying with his own thoughts, but another part of him told him to comfort his little brother. 

he couldn’t just ignore his sibling, especially when he knew how scared and lonely he would be. 

he swallowed his nerves and stood up, taking slow, quiet steps towards the wall shared between their rooms, and pressed his ear to it.

and god, touya couldnt help himself. 

stumbling through his door, he rushed to the room next door, not bothering to tell you or even look around if the hallways were empty. he pulled open the door and nearly broke down crying at the sigh of shouto curled up all by himself in his room.

shouto was curled up in a ball in his bed, the sheets wrapped around him as tears silently streamed down his face. his tiny fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were turning white, and his small body was shaking from the force of his sobs. 

when the door opened, his small head snapped up so fast it was almost as if it would fly off his shoulders. his eyes widened when he saw touya, shock registering across his young face.

shouto was one when he died. he didnt remember much except for the harsh regimine and beating his father instilled into him as soon as he could walk. but he could remember a brother. a brother that wasnt around the house anymore. a brother natsuo or fuyumi couldnt talk about.

a brother that was standing in his doorway.

touya looked down at his younger brother. he couldn’t describe the emotion that was coursing through him right now. guilt, sadness, relief, happiness. all different emotions that were all swirling inside his chest and threatening to overwhelm him. 

he took a shaky step towards the bed, hesitating for a moment before he spoke. 

“hey, shou.” he said quietly. his voice sounded shaky and slightly hoarse.

shouto stared at him, his blue and grey eyes wide and unblinking. he didn’t say anything, just stared at touya as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. who was this boy standing in his doorway? and why did he look so much like him?

touya took another cautious step towards the bed, his heart racing in his chest. he knew his little brother was confused, he could see it on his face. he knew there was a part of him that didn’t believe it was possible that touya was standing in front of him and not a figment of his imagination.

“touya!” you hissed, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind you. god, he was going to get you two caught. “what the hell are you doing!”

touya flinched slightly at your voice, whipping around to look at you. he’d been so focused on shouto that he hadn’t noticed you behind him, and his heart rate picked up. 

his shoulders tensed as he looked at you, and his gaze flicked back to shouto for a second before he spoke. 

”he was crying.” he said softly, as if that explained everything.

“i know he was, but it’s dangerous.” you hissed back, moving closer to him. 

you understood his reasons, you really did. touya cared for his siblings and he didn’t want to make their lives any harder, but you also didn’t want him to get hurt.

shouto’s eyes widened further, his small, pale hands clutching at the sheets. he was still staring at touya, wide-eyed and unblinking. it was as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, as if he was dreaming. 

he mumbled something so softly that only someone with a heightened sense of hearing could pick up, and it made touya’s heart ache.

shouto’s eyes widened further, his small, pale hands clutching at the sheets. he was still staring at touya, wide-eyed and unblinking. it was as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, as if he was dreaming. 

touya took a step closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving shouto’s face. he could see the confused and surprised look in his eyes, and the uncertainty that was almost written all over his young face. 

he reached out a trembling hand, as if he was scared that if he moved too suddenly then shouto would just disappear. as if he was scared that he was truly some kind of hallucination.

touya took a step closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving shouto’s face. he could see the confused and surprised look in his eyes, and the uncertainty that was almost written all over his young face. 

he reached out a trembling hand, as if he was scared that if he moved too suddenly then shouto would just disappear. as if he was scared that he was truly some kind of hallucination.

shouto didn’t pull back when touya’s hand approached him. he was frozen in place, his wide eyes fixed on his older brother as he gently placed his hand on the younger’s head. 

the moment his hand made contact, a small gasp escaped touya’s lips. it was real, this was real. touya could feel shouto, the smoothness of his hair, the heat coming off his skin, the tiny body beneath his hand. it was real, and it made his eyes start to burn.

tears started pricking the corners of touya’s eyes. he’d missed shouto so much, so goddamned much it hurt. 

he couldn’t stop himself from moving closer, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around his brother.

he was real. so real.

he was real, he was tangible, and he was here. touya wrapped his arms around the younger, his throat tightening as he held him close. tears started falling freely as he buried his face into his brother’s soft dual-colored hair. 

he couldn’t control the sobs that started racking his body, the loud, broken cries that escaped his throat. the dam had finally broken.

you sat next to him, and touya onluy distinctly processed the dip in the bed. you didnt want to intrude, so you watched. you watched, and ached for the boy that shouto never got to see.

“miss you.”

he sobbed at the sound of shouto’s voice. even the younger’s voice sent a pang of pain through his heart, making him clutch at the boy even tighter.

he’d missed his voice, he’d missed everything about him. he’d missed the soft white and red strands of hair, his wide and innocent blue and grey eyes, his pale skin. he’d missed the soft, small body he was holding so tightly and the way he seemed so much more fragile than any other four year old.

as his crying slowed, he pulled away slightly so he could look at shouto’s face. his eyes were red and puffy, and tears were still streaming down his scarred cheeks. 

you watched as he studied his younger brother’s face, almost as if he was trying to memorize every detail. and you had the feeling he wanted to remember this, the feeling, the sound, the sight. he didn’t want to forget anything about this moment.

“i missed you too, shou.” he said shakily, his voice quiet and broken. he reached up and wiped at the tears on his younger brother’s face. “and i dont ever wanna leave you again.”

touya let out another small sob. he didn’t want to leave shouto. he didn’t want to leave natsuo or fuyumi either. he wanted to stay here, in the house he grew up in, with the family and siblings he loved so much. 

but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a choice. he couldn’t stay. he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

and that broke his heart.

“come with you..?” shouto mumbled, looking up at touya with his big, glassy eyes.

the words were like a dagger to the heart. touya’s breath hitched, his chest feeling as if it was being ripped out. he wanted to say yes, of course he did. he wanted to bring shouto and natsuo and fuyagi with him, keep them safe forever. make sure that no one could ever hurt them again.

but he couldn’t do that. he couldn’t take them from their life here. 

“i– i can’t, shou.” 

“but it hurts. papa hurts” 

“i know.” touya replied, the words coming out as barely a whisper. it hurt, god it hurt. it hurt a lot. it hurt so much and he couldn’t fix it. he brought a shaky hand up to run it through shouto’s hair, a weak attempt to soothe his brother. “i know it hurts and i’m sorry, shou. but i can’t stay here. i can’t.”

“come with you!” shouto repeated, pouting and reaching up to pull at touya’s hair.

touya could *feel* his heart breaking. he ached to say yes, to just scoop up shouto and take him with him. he’d do it in a heartbeat if it was possible.

but it wasn’t possible. touya was practically a wanted criminal, there was no way he’d be able to take a child with him and still hide.

“i can’t, shou. i want to, trust me i want to, but i just can’t. i’m sorry.”

he knew it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair for him to appear in his younger brother’s life, make him think that he was going to take him away from the nightmare they all lived in and then say that he couldn’t. but he couldn’t. he couldnt do that to him. to you. to fuyumi, and natsuo. to rei.

“it’s– it’s just not that simple.” touya said softly, his voice coming out strained. he could feel his chest tightening, the guilt and pain and anger all swirling inside of him. 

he wanted to take shouto with him so badly. the thought of leaving his little brother in this hell again brought an almost physical pang to his chest. but he couldn’t. it just wasn’t possible.

touya let out a shaky sigh. how could he, how was he supposed to explain it to a seven year old? how was he supposed to say ‘ i can’t take you with me because everyone literally thinks im dead’ without confusing him? without hurting him?

“it’s complicated, shou.” he said weakly.

the younger boy was still staring up at him. his eyes were still wide, but instead of surprise or confusion there was only hurt and disappointment in his expression. 

it made touya’s heart ache. he wanted to fix it, to take the hurt away, to tell his younger brother that everything was going to be okay and that he wouldn’t ever have to worry about anything again. 

but he couldn’t. it’d be wrong to give him false hope.

and god, you couldnt help yourself.

“touya– ‘m sorry to intrude but why.. why cant we just take him?” you mumble, shifting close to lean against touya’s back. “wouldn’t you have wanted someone to take you away when what’s happening to shouto was happening to you? 

you huffed, grabbing touya’s shoulder to force him to look at you. “cant you see? the cycle is repeating itself. and you can stop it.”

touya’s hands balled into shaking fists as you spoke. 

you were right. as much as he hated to admit it, you were right.

he’d spent many nights wishing there was someone, anyone, who would come and take him and his siblings away from this hell. and now, he had a chance to do it for shouto, to stop what was going to happen to him from ever happening, but he wasn’t taking it.

the shame coursed through his body, making him go taut.

he could feel the frustration and anger building up inside of him, warring with the shame a guilt in his chest. it was making him feel dizzy, and the sudden urge to hit something was taking over his thoughts. 

he stood up from the bed, pacing around the room and running a trembling hand through his messy raven black hair. 

“fucking quit!” he hissed, not looking at you. “stop it, you don’t understand! it’s not that easy!”

“and why not!” you moved closer to shouto and covered his ears. “the whole house is asleep right now, and if you keep up this clown show of yours, you’ll get us caught!”

he didn’t care. he didn’t care at all if he got caught, or if he woke up the rest of the house, or anything. he wouldn’t even care if someone started beating him half to death at that very moment. 

the anger and shame continued to build and build until it was choking him and blocking any rational thought. he wanted to get caught, at this point. he just wanted to make something, anything hurt. even if it costed him his life.

but he couldnt do that. not to you. not to him. and epecially not to shouto.

“–touya! calm down!” you hissed, letting go of shouto and standing up to grab his wrist. “ you’re gonna fucking burn the house down!”

“then let it burn.” 

the words came out before he could stop himself, and as he said them he regretted them. he knew he didn’t actually want to burn down the house, not the house with his siblings still in it at least.

touya couldnt think straight. the world was spinning, the house threatening to swallow him whole. he could faintly hear you speaking, but he could feel it going in one ear and out the other.

no matter what he did, someone would get hurt. someone was going to end up getting hurt. and he didn’t think he could handle it.

he ran his shaking hands through his hair again, his body tense and his breath coming out in short, labored gasps. he could practically feel his blood boiling.

he wanted something, anything he could take his anger out on.

“nii-san?”

the sound of shouto’s voice snapped touya back to the present. he froze, turning back to the bed and looking at his younger brother. 

god, how long had he been pacing and seething? how long had he been lost in his own head? how long had he been scaring you, scaring shouto?

his heart fell as he met shouto’s worried and confused eyes. the anger faded, replaced by a different kind of despair. 

what was he doing? what was he doing, scaring his younger brother and shouting and acting like a psychopath infront of him? what kind of older brother was he?

he took a shaky step towards the bed, an apology ready to spill from his lips. 

he was going to apologize, he was going to tell shouto that he didn’t mean to scare him, that he wasn’t in his right mind right now. he was going to tell him that he was fine, that it was okay.

but the door opened before he got the chance to speak.

touya froze again, his blood going cold. he didn’t dare turn around to look at who had just entered the room. he didn’t need to look. he already knew.

and without a secont thought, he picked shouto up, and ran.

he darted towards the window, clutching the younger boy as tightly as he dared. his heart was racing in his chest, pounding against his ribs so hard it was a miracle they didn’t break. 

he didn’t have time to think or plan. he just had to run, had to get out of here.

the adrenaline was rushing through his veins like never before. he had to get shouto out of here, he had to get out,  fast.

he dashed out of the bedroom, his feet almost silent as he raced down the hallway of the house, holding his younger brother tightly against his chest. he didnt need to tell you twice. he trusted you enough to be right behind him. he had learned from the mistakes of orpheus and eurydice.

shouto was screaming in fear, his cries bouncing off the walls and surely waking up the entire house. the man behind you was loud and quick, but not quick enough.

touya grit his teeth, his eyes darting around as he tried to find the exit. in his panic, all of his childhood memories and completly vaccated his brain. 

he could hear his dad yelling from behind him, and he could hear natsuo and fuyumi calling out. 

but he didn’t look back. he didn’t even slow his pace as he reached the front door, yanking it open and stepping out into the cold night air with you and shouto right behind him.

and touya didn’t stop running. he didn’t look back, not once. he just kept going, dashing down the sidewalk with no sense of where exactly he was headed. 

all he knew was that he had to run, he had to get away from the house and make sure shouto was safe. that was all that mattered, right now.

his legs burned with the effort but he didn’t slow down. he pushed himself further, his feet pounding against the pavement as he raced down the street. he had no idea where he was going, but he didn’t care. 

he’d keep running until his legs gave out.

and even if they did, he was sure you’d catch him.

he could hear you panting behind him as you struggled to keep up with his pace. he knew you were putting in just as much effort as he was, pushing through the burn in your legs and the ache in your chest. 

he knew you’d keep running by his side, for as far as you could. not because you felt like you had to, but because you wanted to.

touya didn’t know for how long he kept running. it felt like an endless race, a never-ending battle of speed and endurance. 

but eventually, he had to stop. his legs finally gave out, collapsing under him as he stumbled to a stop. he doubled over, gasping for breath and clutching shouto close to his chest.

and he found he couldnt help but laugh.

a strangled laugh escaped his lips as he fought to regain his breath. it was a bitter, crazed laugh, full of pain and hysteria. 

he leaned against a nearby wall, his legs shaking as he struggled to stay upright. he was exhausted, his body feeling as if it had been put through hell and back. 

but he was alive. you were alive. and shouto was alive.

and that’s all that mattered right now.

[coffeeailee]

an extremely bad day .

chars . sigma , fyodor dostoyevsky , nikolai gogol , osamu dazai x fem ! reader ( SEPARATELY )

fandom . bungo stray dogs

synopsis . of course females have to deal with periods , which is an extreme nightmare for females due to how painful it can be , luckily your boyfriend is here to save the day and help you with your period !

genre . fluff

warning . CRINGE , NICKNAMES ( DOVE , BELLADONNA , ETC )

note I : probably ooc , error spelling / grammar ( THIS IS MY FIRST TIME SO PLZ BEAR WITH ME 💔 )

When he realized your instant mood change, he could've sworn yesterday you were so happy ! And now you ... looked really mad. He thought he had committed something wrong or thought you misunderstood something, which made him extremely scared. Poor sigma, he doesn't even know what was going on until you explained how period works and the side effects.

Eventually, after he was finally done dealing with the casino customers, he immediately went there to comfort you and tried to help you by cuddling with you as you groaned and complaining in pain due to how painful the cramps were.

Of course your boyfriend is there to listen while cuddling with you as you keep complaining, just keep talking for twenty six hours, he wouldn't mind at all, he doesn't actually mind hearing you talking all day. Sadly he has to deal with the customers at the casino too, so maybe not always.

Not only that, he'll most likely try to find a way to spend more time with you and try to find a way to make you feel happy so you could forget your cramps, he actually genuinely feels upset you have to go through such a pain ! He's definitely going to try his best to make you feel comfortable, cozy and definitely happy so you wouldn't feel irritated because of your period !

Overall, he's an extremely caring boyfriend who definitely will try his best to help you !, you're his significant other after all, of course he's going to help you as much as possible! he already promised himself that he will make you happy as long as you're with him, together.

" Is... is this warm enough for you?, if it's not warm enough I can get you some blankets and make you a tea. I don't like seeing you in pain at all, so if you need something please tell me. " he smiled slightly while caressing your head as your head was on his chest , cuddling with him before smiling back at your sweet boyfriend , you were extremely glad you have a boyfriend like sigma. He planted a kiss on your forehead awkwardly before continue cuddling with each other and eventually fell asleep together.

you don't even need to tell him, actually, before you even know you are having your period , he already knew what was going on . It was really obvious to him since he always observes you , after all , this is fyodor we're talking about.

"Fyo , can you help me buy some-" before you get to finish your sentence , expect the stuff you need in front of you immediately. This man literally marked when you're going to get your period in his calendar , plus he's already prepared for this ever since he started dating you. So don't worry , if you need something he is most likely to have it in the house.

he's probably not weirded out and doesn't mind your tantrum, he's completely fine with it. Oh? You want chocolate? , you got it. You want plushies? , how many? nevermind , he'll just buy hundreds of them , he's confident that's enough. This is his любовь we're talking about.

If you're emotional and always cries every time when you're having your period, he's there, don't worry about it. Just like what has been said, he doesn't mind your tantrum at all. He's literally calm while here you're sobbing and bawling your eyes out. But it's okay, you wouldn't be sad anymore, he's here for you, so why bother being sad? He's here to comfort you and wipe your tears away

Overall, he's the type of boyfriend that's prepared for his other significant needs, albeit he doesn't show much emotion about it, he actually does care. He's definitely experienced and knows what you need for your period , he also might play the cello for you if you request him to play it for you while you're about to go to sleep as you're having your period.

" Моя мышь, are you unable to sleep? " Fyodor whispered quietly as you were unable to sleep since your cramps were saying no to sleep. He only huffed gently before planting a quick , but yet passionate kiss on your cheek as he grabbed a blanket and pillows for you, and put it around you so you could feel comfortable. He eventually started playing his cello for you, before smiling slightly, he was relieved that you were finally able to sleep.

Oh? What was that? Did he just hear you're having that time of the month!?! Be not afraid! Your silly boyfriend, nikolai is here to smooches and kisses you everywhere! Cuddles are a must if his poor little dove is having cramps.

He would definitely pull pranks on you, who knows, maybe it might be effective!

Nevermind it wasn't effective, you were mad and he's fucked up. But that's okay! He'll comfort you with his tricks , a trick that only his dove knows and no one else!

Since he has a teleportation ability, it'll be easier for him to get stuff you need. Though, when you asked which store he got it from, he never dared to answer the question. What? Of course not!, he would never steal people's items! , well, at least that's what he said. Even a toddler would know that was a lie, it was too obvious because he kept smiling.

If you're clingy when you're having your period, he's definitely gonna giggle happily like a high school girl giggling every time she sees her crush in the hallway, it makes him super special, especially YOU hugging him! Gosh you're gonna make him explode and he might go insane at any moment!

Overall, he's definitely the annoying boyfriend when you're having your period. He makes you angry sometimes, but you still love him anyways, he's your silly lil clown. You appreciate his attempt at making you happy even though it didn't end well at all. But you're glad he's actually trying, because it proves that your silly boyfriend actually does in fact care for you.

" my dearest dove ! , I cannot help but feel nothing other than pain every time I see your face looking upset, allow me to perform a trick that has only been shown to you ! " Nikolai grinned stupidly as he hid his hand inside his coat before a portal appeared behind you with Nikolai's hand holding a flower for you, you were about to grab the flower until he suddenly attacked you with kisses. He also still kept that stupid and yet adorable grin.

Your mood swings, your food cravings. That's more than enough for him to confirm that you're in fact having your period right now, at first he doesn't understand why you don't want to tell him anything about it, after thinking a while about it he finally thought it's because you're embarrassed, it makes sense but why hide from your boyfriend?

He will immediately take advantage of this by taking a day off so he could spend his time with you, he's too lazy to do work and get scolded by Kunikida! He's not interested in hearing Kunikida scolding him for three hours. However, you're an exception, he doesn't mind hearing you talking for hours, talk about anything you'd like and he'll keep it in his memory for eternity until he has finally left this world. But if you force him to go to work, Kunikida would start to shed tears and start saying "thank you" for million times for making Dazai go to work and doing his work.

He might be lazy, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't do any errands for you. You're his significant other, he doesn't want his belladonna to suffer while having a period! That's just too evil and cruel! Let him do it instead. just get a snack, rest, stay comfortable and cozy, and listen to him, okay? He'll promise he'll get home as fast as possible if he's doing your errands.

If you asked him to buy you some pads for your period, he wouldn't hesitate to do so. But please show him what pads look like first and then tell him which specific pads you want... Because if you don't, well, just expect Dazai to come back home with diapers instead of pads.

Overall, he's quite a decent boyfriend. He definitely knows your food cravings and doesn't mind doing your errands at all even though sometimes he doesn't like it. Plus he knows what to do, except the pads part... Because Dazai accidentally bought a lot of diapers instead of pads... You two might need to eat instant cup noodles for a while.

" Belladonna, let's keep staying like this. " Dazai smiled brightly and warmly while eating instant cup noodles along with you as you both were on the futon and watching the television. Even though it wasn't much, it makes you extremely comfortable as Dazai leaned his head on your shoulders and still kept his smile.

extra note : AEUGH I'M SORRY THAT I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED DRAFT VERSION OF THIS 💔 EVEN THOUGH ONLY COUPLE PEOPLE ( I think ... ) SAW IT I STILL FELT EMBARRASSED 😭... but srsly , I could've sworn that I posted it as draft... Did I hallucinate again or some shit ..

[sane-omblog]

🤍Happy Birthday Simeon💐

I ended up choosing this outfit of him bc he look so gorgeous( just like he is in others but hey this one hit me) and angelic as ever. Not me who just noticed his chests are slightly exposed while learning the details

Anyway he is the main reason i don't regret playing obey me like i really fall for him and his voice(hirata-san my god) tho most of the outfit in this game are so hard, the urge to draw him push me to it now i can draw more detailed clothes!

I love every concept of Simeon. He being a writer? darn that's so good no wonder why his words always hit me differently. He's so gentle and kind? tho i know hes angel i need sum1 who can bear with my grumpiness and i know i will melt at his dazzling smile. Yet he has his mischief side? i will do anything he want and back up for his mischief plan.

Overall I love his smile the most, that shiny dazzling sparkly softly sweet and gentle smile make me melt since the first time he appeared. you won't believe how fast i was change character in majolish(i can't remember who i put before him). And don't forget to give credit to Hirata san who voiced him, gave him that cute laugh when his sprite smile bless me.

As you can tell I love sweet smiley char

And I really enjoyed my time counting down to his bday(in tag #simeon bday countdown24 it contains spoilers so don't click read more or read ALT if you don't wanna get it) and hoping i can do it for other characters too esp. Solomon since I can't last year from business

Okay I have no more to say than I love no

I ADORE SIMEON SO VERY MUCH

-edit: so after 30 minutes of trying apparently I can't post gif here so this is the link of my twitter(X) and I posted there

First try making animation-ish gif?? I dunno the quality turned out not as I expected but yea... Let it slide for now

https://twitter.com/sane_2772/status/1755970764472496476?t=9TBLZJF9d-z8mhExyvhF_g&s=19

[themadlu]

I absolutely love Zelie!

Could you write something set right after the game ends? She is tired as hell and overstressed and Astarion tries to make her feel better?

Thanks for the ask @spacebarbarianweird! I'm so happy you like her, as I love Tiriel! Wonder if they'd get along, uh.

Premise, I have never done asks (unless it's for a writing exercise) nor I am good (capable?) of writing fluff. So beware, there's as much fluff I can muster here, with a smidge of angst.

TW: none.

Tags: end-of-game spoilers (I haven't finished it yet, so if something is incorrect sorry!), fluff (kinda?), these two love in quality time and acts of service.

Hope you like it!

The charred edges of a frayed shirt stare at Astarion from the floor. He glares at them, at what they represent, in contempt: his return to the shadows. All that unprecedented (and mostly unwilling) heroism he displayed in fighting the Netherbrain served him nothing. Nothing. Not even saving Baldur’s Gate makes him worthy of a life in the sun, it seems, because, as soon as that jiggly monstrosity fell to its death, Astarion began to burn and the hunger tore at his insides.  

On the run, again, nothing more than a ravenous monster lurking in the shadows. 

(Somewhere, his conscience reminds him that real monsters don’t have impossible little heroes shielding them from the harming light with their own broken bodies.)

The elf laughs bitterly at that, hissing when his grimace irritates the still-healing skin around his mouth. 

And yet…

Steps resonate further down the hallway with a familiarity that makes his ears twitch in recognition and his body tense in eagerness. 

…she’s here. 

Zélie opens the door of their shared bedroom (Only theirs, finally.), closing it promptly behind her to block the stray sun rays from the corridor’s windows. A funereal darkness, one that Astarion is all too well-acquainted with, shrouds the room in a still embrace. 

Astarion is almost glad that his Zélie is human when surrounded by shadows. Back then, before the blooming trust, the tense friendship, the impossible devotion, he despised the maddening woman (He was terrified of her, so inconceivably real.) The darkness was the only time he had the advantage when her pale eyes would squint in temporary blindness and not witness the violence her stern kindness did to him. How it undid the tenets of the world, one by one. 

You ruined me, darling. Look at me, a fool in a doomed love. What a ridiculous joke of a vampire you made me!

He should be prowling for blood and cursing the sun, yet here he is, smiling, trying his damn hardest not to rush into his woman’s embrace. You will return to me begging when she’s gone, what’s left of his spite whispers. He ignores it, because that part of him has never known what it means to be cherished simply for existing (It knows all about being wanted, although comparing that with whatever stolen miracle he and Zélie have makes Astarion gag.)

“Finally, darling! Here I thought I’d seen the last of you, lost among all that dreadful politicking—” his snarky quips (They are part of him and Zélie loves them, so he’s decided he’ll greet her with one every single day.) die in his throat when he properly looks at her. 

Hells, he had gotten into the habit of scanning her for possible injuries during their travels, but now the fight is over, without visible wounds or bruises, Astarion can fully see the toll their adventure has taken on her. Her eyes are tired and bruised from lack of sleep (Of course, she’s been foregoing sleep to spend time with him at night.), her face tauter than ever, skin so sallow she looks sick. Astarion presses himself against her and bristles when he feels her ribs poking his body through their clothes. 

Worry, guilt, anger grip him. His brave, little saviour looks so unlike herself. So fragile and exhausted that he fears she’ll crumble to dust should he touch her. He forgets she’s human and not a divine being sometimes, with all that practicality and stony attitude of hers. Never complaining, never relenting (He knows it well.)

You moronic creature! How dare you reduce yourself in this state.

“Darling, what—”

“Oh, hello, Astarion,” Zélie seems to take notice of him only when he’s practically caging her against the door. She’s making an effort not to slide to the floor, he can tell. 

Fucking idiot. 

“Are you well? I hope the room is comfortable enough?” she nearly slurs.  

“Am I well?” Oh, now he’s angry, “Love, what the fuck—”

“Language! No need to be rude,” Astarion feels some relief when Zélie’s irises spark with that annoyed light he coaxes out of her oh-so-well. She inhales deeply, continuing “I came to tell you that I will be late tonight, so you could come and meet me near the main city gate? There’s barely any Fists left, and lots of properties have been robbed or vandalised since there are no guards so Wyll asked me—what’s with that look now?”

The pale elf stares at her perplexed face down his nose, nostrils flaring. “Do you hear yourself, you wretch?!” Her eyes are reduced to judging slits and she’s about to chastise him, but Astarion is undeterred. “No, rather, have you looked at yourself recently? Literal corpses have a healthier…flair than you do now, darling. Myself included.” 

Zélie scoffs (Scoffs!), “Oh Astarion, I admire how far you’ve come with showing concern, really, but,” she tries to push past him, but even her martial art is worthless against his full vampiric strength, “there are things, oh you vexing elf! Things that need tending to even if I’d much rather spend the foreseeable future here with you–hey!”

Astarion feels somewhat proud of the shout she lets out when he picks her up with ease (Not so puny, after all.) She is so light something lodges in his throat (Frustration at his inability to keep her safe.) and he hopes that his renewed strength is what makes his gesture so effortless. 

No one should be this light.

She used to weigh almost the same as him, all muscle and sinew from her training and a life of comfortable abundance; now, her shirt hangs loosely around her frame. 

 Fuck. Why in the nine hells haven’t I noticed before?!

He realises he voiced his thoughts when the woman in his arms replies, “Because critical stab wounds take precedence over hunger, Astarion."

"No need to blame anyone,” Zélie says as he unceremoniously throws her on the bed. She fights not to melt into the mattress. “Astarion,” his infuriating lover speaks slower, as if he were a child, “I need to go. We didn’t save this city only to let it implode in chaos. It needs me; Wyll needs me.” 

Jealousy (Unfounded but very much present.) soars in Astarion’s chest. “Well, darling, our selfless Wyll can kindly go fuck himself and find his own lover and stop pestering mine. I’m sure he’ll have plenty of offers now he’s back in line at the next Archduke. Those horns also add a certain ragged flair that many sheltered young nobles will find irresistible.” 

Zélie rolls her eyes so much only her sclera is visible. She makes to stand up, but Astarion holds her by the shoulders with one hand, pointing an accusing finger at her with the other, “Hush, you. Is that how it’ll be for the rest of time? I am tired of seeing you hurt.” That makes her expression twitch with guilt. 

Good.

He glares at her, “Now, you stay here as the good girl I know you can be and I’ll go to the kitchens to see if anything edible is left. Hopefully, it’ll be better than whatever the wizard cooked.” Astarion forces himself to tear away from Zélie’s inviting body (He did miss her all day.), but she catches his wrist before he can step away. 

“What now?!” he snarls. “You’ve driven mad for days with your ‘Respect others’ and ‘We are a group, Astarion!’ and ‘You can’t be that selfish’, and you won’t let me—”

“The sun,” she simply says, defeated. 

Oh.

How quickly Astarion has forgotten his pathetic limitations. On a quest for tavern food, defeated by the light of day. He can’t even venture outside their room. Zélie is the only person he wants to protect and can’t even feed her when she’s fed him countless times before. He snarls loudly, balling his fists, “Fuck!”

“It’s all right,” Zélie pulls him to her, unfazed by his temperamental mood, and he lets himself fall on top of her on the bed, his mortification soothed by her closeness. 

“Tell you what,” she says, breath tickling his face. Astarion holds her cheeks, sharpened by tiredness and hunger, in his hands. He rubs his thumbs over them in small circles, as if he could make them meatier, healthier, by force of will alone. “I will go downstairs, where a Fist captain is waiting for me. I will tell her to ask Wyll if the issue can wait until tomorrow or if Jaheira or Minsc,” she grimaces in worry at the idea, “can take over for the evening. Then, I’ll see if the cook has something prepared. If not, I’ll make do with some cheese and bread.”

Astarion feels a soft dizziness spreading through him. She is talking with that calm and collected voice of hers as if nothing could ever shake or hurt them when she knows what it does to him. He tangles his fingers in her curls, messing them up (An arduous task when they already look like a harpy’s.), before cradling her face into the base of his neck.  

“Then,” his little hero wraps her arms around him, under his shirt and on his scarred back. Astarion is still unused to how careful her hands are on him, like a gentle breeze. She looks at him in search of discomfort, but she finds none. The elf hopes Zélie knows that nothing she does will be the cause of any uneasiness he may show in the future (Even she can’t shield him from all his memories.)  

“I will come back here, to this bed. We’ll eat and rest and when the sun sets, we’ll go to the rooftop to see the stars and enjoy the summer air. How does that sound?” She boops his nose with hers. 

Astarion swallows loudly, “It sounds perfect, love,” he concedes. That’s as close as anyone has ever come to convincing Zélie to drop her duties and rest. Small victories. He is sure he’ll persuade her to live a life of rest and luxury, one day. If everything goes as he desperately hopes.

He is rewarded with a content smile he does not deserve, so he kisses her soundly instead. 

____________________________________________

The night is warm, comforting even. How strange; Astarion can’t remember darkness in Baldur’s Gate ever being so welcoming. A loud munching resonates on his left, and the pale elf has to keep himself from grinning too overtly at his precious woman digging into a simple beef stew as if it were the nectar of the gods. Her cheeks puff out as she takes another mouthful, her usual composure nowhere to be seen in what Astarion hopes is another first. 

(He wishes he could have been her first at everything, just as she was his.)

Midnight strikes. He would have been in some dirty tavern or dingy brothel by now if the mind flayers hadn’t mercifully kidnapped him. He would have been truly dead if the impossible creature next to him hadn’t insisted he was worth saving.

Zélie looks at him as if he performed a miracle, “This, munch, is, chomp, utterly amazing. The best thing I’ve eaten in a long, long while.” 

“Tut, love, I resent that. And here I thought I was special,” he purrs it in offended seduction just to witness his lover’s cheeks and forehead flush in embarrassment. She looks healthier already. 

Good. 

“Oh, you, sassy, snarky…ugh,” Zélie narrows her eyes at him, then immediately composes herself. “Let me specify, the best thing I’ve eaten of any nutritional value in a long, long time.” 

Astarion laughs so loud that a few pigeons fly away in fear. “Touché, love. Well played.”

“Where did you even find this? When I checked the kitchen—”

When she checked the kitchen, the useless cook was not meant to start his shift for another couple of hours, which left her with two slices of bread and a portion of cheese so small even a rat would have ignored it. So Astarion, spurred on by his newly-uncovered protectiveness, waited for his Zélie to be busy with the Fists captain before putting his daggers to good use. It was convenient that the cook had no will to test out the elf’s gutting technique. 

“Oh, darling, I am extremely resourceful. You should know this by now,” he says with a telling smirk. 

“Right. That means I don’t want to know. Though I wouldn’t be against getting more of this,” she points at the bowl of stew in admiration, “from time to time. It reminds me of my grandfather’s cooking.” 

Astarion tenses a bit at the mention of the family she left behind for him; he waits for (No, expects.) Zélie to eventually consider the whole thing as the massive mistake it is and…leave him. Hate him. Become another person he cheated not of her life (At the very least.) but of her future. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, dear?” She asks, head tilted. She can see him even without the tadpoles, and it unsettles him in a good way. 

It feels right, to be known by her. To know her in return. 

He doesn’t want to lie to her now (She’s rubbing her annoying righteousness all over him.), so he opens his arms and she scoots against him, full belly and satisfied gaze. 

Lovely. 

Astarion gently guides them to the mattress he brought up from the bedroom and curls up around Zélie. He could laugh. He despised heroes for so long and here he was, lulling one to sleep. But she was his hero, which makes all the difference; he still doesn’t believe in the natural goodness of others, but he believes in hers, and that’s all he needs. 

And she fits against him, around his jagged edges so perfectly, Astarion would believe she was made for him if he were a religious man. 

“Sleep darling,” he coos into her ear. 

She’s already halfway to the dream realm after, but she’s ever the stubborn woman. “But the sun—”

“I don’t need sleep, love; I’ll move us downstairs when dawn comes. I’ve wasted the day in bed already,” he plants little kisses on her hair, her face, her hands. Worships her as much as he can without waking her up. 

“But that’s the issue…want to…spend time with you,” why must she make it so impossible for him not to fall for her?

Every time the elf is sure he hit the bottom of the devotion he is capable of, she pushes him further down. And she doesn’t try that hard, his pesky love. 

“Hush,” he murmurs, wrapping them in a thick blanket to keep his undead chill at bay. “Rest, idiot. I’m here. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Astarion tightens his grip on her sleeping form. “We’ll take all the time we need, love. I promise.”

[navybrat817]

Fall Like a Rose Petal

Pairing: Soft Dark!Scott Huffman x Female Reader Summary: Your normal routing leaves you unhappy and you can't figure out why. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Scott Huffman (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Scott and Rose's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You enjoyed living your life according to a schedule. It wasn't that you didn't like spontaneity. You just looked forward to accomplishing tasks each day. Checklists were a thing of beauty and crossing things off one by one were your mini victories. You tried to get the toughest things out of the way first to create and keep your momentum throughout the rest of the day. By the time your head hit the pillow, you had a sense of fulfillment.

Happiness.

So why do I feel like I'm going around in circles?

You stared at your "To Do" list after you set the table for dinner. Scott would be home any minute with the expectation of a warm meal prepared. Instead of crossing it off like normal, you grabbed the pink sheet of paper and went to the sink. You watched dispassionately as you took a lighter and set the corner of it on fire. You dropped the charred paper in before it could burn you and turned the water on. It didn't make you feel any better.

The smell won't mix well with the delicious food I cooked. A good wife takes pride in her work.

Sniffling when you heard the car pull into the driveway, you quickly went to light a rose scented candle before you fixed Scott a drink. A lawyer who fought for people who couldn't fight for themselves, you admired your husband and how hard he worked. He cared about what he did and you supported him.

But what do I want?

You couldn't explain why you felt moody all of a sudden. Today was exactly like how every other day was. You did your chores like normal and gave Ruby some tips on cooking a casserole. It was nice. So why did you feel off?

What did I used to do to relieve stress before I moved here?

You hissed at the sudden sharp pain in your head. As fast as it came on, it went away into nothingness. The way some of your memories did. You wondered if you liked making lists because you were a forgetful person. But that didn't seem right.

"I'm home!" Scott announced as he walked in.

You smoothed out your dress and smiled as you went to greet him. "How was your day?" you asked, giving him a gentle kiss once the door was shut. His lips lingered before he pressed them a little harder against yours. You accepted it, both pliant and eager.

A good wife is always happy to see her husband.

"It was good," he said, handing you his briefcase as he took the drink you offered. "How was yours?"

"I'm glad you had a good day," you said, biting your lip as he waited for you to answer his question. "I don't know."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?" He asked slowly, setting his drink on the hall table to focus all of his attention on you. "Did something happen?"

"No. Nothing happened," you said, leaning into his hand when he touched your cheek.

A good wife doesn't worry her husband.

"Was there anything out of the ordinary today?" he asked, his blue eyes searching your face for some sort of explanation. "Rose, talk to me."

"No. Nothing. I just…" your face scrunched up, frustrated that you couldn't pinpoint the problem. "Do you ever just wake up in a weird mood for no reason?"

Scott nodded after a moment. "Yeah, I think we all have those kinds of days. There's no specific reason why we're upset. We just are."

"Yeah, exactly," you said, happy that he understood.

He knows exactly how to read me.

"So, you're having an off day. That's okay."

"But I don't know what to do about it," you said, an unexpected tear slipping from your eye. "I tried to think of what to do to make myself feel better and nothing came to mind."

"What about what we used to do?" he suggested.

You furrowed your brows, not sure what he was talking about.

"You don't remember?" he asked, a touch of hurt in his voice. You wanted to apologize, even though you didn't do anything wrong. "We used to sit on the floor in my office while we ate. You'd say one good thing about the day and I'd say something else. We'd go back and forth until we ran out of things."

There were bits and pieces of flashes in your mind of sitting with him on his office floor, but not a seamless memory.

"I thought that meant something to you," he whispered.

Which prompted you to burst into tears.

A good wife doesn't make a scene.

Scott said something to you, but you didn't hear him over the sound of your crying. You let him take you to the sofa and collapsed in his arms. "What's wrong with me?" You sobbed.

"Nothing. There's nothing wrong with you," he promised, wiping at your cheeks with his thumbs.

"Something has to be," you mumbled, gesturing to the room. "I do my checklist every day and something feels like it's missing. Like there's a void."

Where's my real sense of purpose?

"I'm going to make a phone call," he said, brushing away another tear. "Give me just a second, okay?"

"Okay," you replied, not sure how a call would help, but you didn't voice that opinion when he stepped out of the room.

A good wife doesn't pry.

You toyed with the hem of your dress and looked around the room. It was like something out of a magazine. Everything had its place. A home built with love.

Right?

"Hey," Scott said when he came back a few minutes later. "I think I figured out part of the problem."

"You have?"

"When's the last time you've done anything for yourself?" he asked as he sat next to you. When you couldn't give him an answer, he nodded. "Exactly. You're so busy taking care of our home and me that you neglected your needs. No, I neglected those needs. And for that, I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault. You work so hard," you said, putting your hand over his. It was strange how you wanted to make him feel better when you were the one upset.

A good wife puts her husband's needs ahead of her own.

"But I should know when something is bothering my wife," he said, clenching his jaw. "I won't let it happen again."

"It's okay, Scott."

"No. You need to get out of the house more. Spend quality time with the wives. Have fun," he said, a smile spreading on his handsome face. "Which is why we're going to get a part-time maid."

"A maid?" you questioned, a tremor running through your body. Why did that frighten you? "No, we can't get a maid. What would everyone say if they found out? They'll think I can't take care of our home."

A good wife doesn't argue with her husband.

"They won't say anything. Andy's the one who recommended her and everyone knows you run our home with pride," he assured you, which calmed you down slightly. "Not only that, but you help the other wives without a second thought. They admire you and your helpful nature, Rose. I know Bucky's wife will, too."

You smiled a little. Bucky's wife was the talk of the neighborhood, though you hadn't met her yet. "I don't want anyone judging you."

What I do and don't do is a reflection on him.

"You have nothing to worry about. And since the maid would be part-time, she'll only do some of the chores. You pick and choose what you want to do and she can do the rest while you relax or pick up a hobby. You deserve that."

"Can I think about it, please?" you asked. A stranger in your home made you nervous, but if Andy and Scott trusted her, that helped.

Scott wouldn't do anything that caused me discomfort.

His jaw clenched again, but he smiled before you could dwell on it. "Sure," he said, kissing your forehead. "Do you feel any better?"

I don't know.

"I think so. Thank you," you said to appease him. "Why don't we eat on the floor in your office? We can talk about the good things."

He smiled like you handed him a gift. "That's a great idea."

Maybe you would take him up on his offer for a maid, if only to regain a sense of yourself.

As long as I keep Scott happy.

Remember, everything is FINE. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Scott Huffman Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[gabessquishytum]

Dream really do be having that previously neglected shelter dog rizz and y’all be putting him in Situations 😭. Please all I can see him doing is laying pathetically on the floor letting out occasional heaving sighs of sorrow as Hob just carefully steps over him (because Dream somehow always manages to be on the floor directly under where he’s about to step and Hob’s one more tumble away from just investing in a ceiling made of monkey bars).

So now all I can imagine is Dream post-divorce with Calliope (because let’s be real that man came out of the celestial womb divorced and mopey) who finds solace in Hob’s flat and Hob’s occasional attempts to heave him up both physically and emotionally. When Hob’s not frantically almost stepping on his dear friend and braining himself as a result, he’s just sort of resigned himself to the reality that Dream just kind of…lives on his floor now when he’s not in The Dreaming, so he’s like fuck it I’m just gonna keep going about my days. So Dream gets to watch Hob’s daily routines from a brand new perspective, maybe even catch a glimpse of Hob changing in his bedroom when he forgets (read: he did not forget) to close his door, and how he sings awfully in the shower, and loves burnt toast that’s practically char and makes Dream watch terrible human shows and movies all of a sudden Dream’s like oh no I’m in love with him

I just love the idea of Dream moping around looking like a lost dog caught out in the rain for so long that Hob just accepts him as a permanent fixture in the flat. He makes some room in the closet for all of Dream’s nonexistent clothes (he buys him some anyway), he gives him a cupboard in the kitchen and a drawer or two, he gets drunk and tells Dream about all his own failed relationships over the centuries. And when Hob finally snaps and tells Dream that he’s not unloveable and proves that to him by giving him a big sloppy drunk kiss, well Dream’s always wanted more than he’s got, and he can’t stop himself when he doesn’t let Hob pull away, hands gripping the thick meat of his upper thighs, teeth against teeth and gasping into each other’s mouths and suddenly Dream can’t even remember why he was so sad to begin with

I need you to know the phrase "shelter dog rizz" is sending me absolutely wheezing. Iconic.

And honestly? Yeah.

It takes a little while for Hob to get used to the man shaped creature who apparently now lives on the floor, but he figures that Dream has been Going Through Something for the last several thousand years so he probably deserves the opportunity to express his depressive episode in a relatively harmless way. He's still willing to talk to Hob, which is nice. Hob tells him about work and the pub and how he's in a hyperfixation over The Sims at the moment, which happens to him for a few week every year without fail. Dream sometimes talks about the goings on of his realm, and Matthew's shenanigans. A lot of the time he talks about how useless he feels and how, despite the fact that he ought not to feel fatigue at all, he's so tired.

Dream is surprisingly welcome company for Hob (who is lonely, though he would never ever dare to say that word to Dream again). Despite acting like a very strange rug, Dream is present and calming and when Hob lies down beside him on the floor, he feels absolutely peaceful.

Kissing Dream is absolutely the best drunken decision Hob has ever made (and there have been many). Dream melts against his body and the flicker of a smile starts in his eyes before finally quirking at the edge of his mouth.

Suddenly he's quite willing to spend less time on the floor... and more time in bed.

[zaldritzosrose]

Burn For Me (Masema Dagar x Goddess!Reader)

Summary: Masema had become a devoted follower the moment he saw you, but he had never anticipated just how far he would go to prove his devotion. (Part Two for Burn With Me)

TW: MINORS DNI. She/Her pronouns, afab reader, no smut this time (ikr look at me!), little bit more dark and angsty this time, Masema being psychopathic yet down bad for his woman, Rand being a shit stirrer, reader being a literal goddess.

Words: 2049 words

The word of the Dragon, of the newfound goddess had been spread far and wide, all Masema’s doing. He was addicted. Addicted to you, your mere presence was like the very thread tying him to the earth below. He had named himself Prophet and you had not stopped him. Though you had not encouraged him either. If anything, you had simply sat by and let what happened, happen.

There were few moments Masema was not at your side. Whether stood like a guard at your shoulder or wrapped in your embrace, he was like an extension of you.

A fact which had not gone unnoticed by the others that followed you. Rand, specifically, considering he was for the most part, closest to Masema.

“You cannot keep allowing him to do as he pleases,” Rand snapped, momentarily forgetting your place as his superior as his anger at your failure to intervene took hold of him.

“He burns villages who refuse to support you, claiming the death and destruction in your name.”

As usual, your face was a mask of cool indifference.

“A dragon does not concern itself with the opinion of sheep, Rand.” Was all you replied, earning a sigh of frustration from the man before you.

“But he was warned, you were all warned,” you continued, stepping closer to Rand and tapping the dragon sigil on his pendant, an honour to you.

“There is a price for being at my side, and Masema seems the only one willing to pay it.”

Rand huffed out his annoyance, trying to ignore your proximity. He had almost been in Masema’s place, once. Wielding his sword in your name, spreading the word of your power and prophecy. But he had never let himself fall so far. Now, however, it seemed he was seeing a side he did not like.

“Do not forget your place, Rand. Do not forget upon whose shoulders you stand.”

Masema watched, head tilted as the flames burned around him. He had hoped the villagers would see reason. Understand his goddess as he did, but it was not meant to be. He had warned them what defiance would cause. What he would be forced to do. And still, they had not listened.

It was not the first village he had put to the torch, though the destruction he left in his wake had gained his name quite the reputation.

Murderer.

False Prophet.

Madman.

All names volleyed at him like insults. Insults that washed over him like smoke. Words that barely hurt him anymore. He had your protection, words meant nothing to him.

When the flames began to die, only then did Masema mount his horse and signal for his men to leave. There was little rhyme or reason to his path, he simply followed the whispers in his head.

Your voice, soft, tempting. Willing him to bring more followers to your cause. And he always listened. The burning buildings were soon a distant memory as Masema rode on to his next destination.

Your conversation with Rand only seemed to sour the relationship between the two of you, especially in Masema’s absence. Stories of Masema’s deeds would always reach your camp, some wondered if they were exaggerated, but the more the stories came, the more people realised that every word was true.

The burning villages, the charred bodies he left in his wake. All true, and more devastating each time.

Rand had not hesitated to begin speaking with others about the fact. Your lack of care towards what Masema was doing irked him more than he ever thought it would. It was not the lack of care towards the destroyed villages and murdered citizens – he had long learned you cared little for the fate of mortals.

It was your lack of concern towards Masema’s mentality. Towards his sanity. It was this that reminded Rand that you were not of his world. A being so far removed from mortality. He wondered, then, if you held any feelings for Masema passed the intimacies he knew you shared.

He had seen the mornings Masema would emerge from your temple. The faintest teeth marks and scratches littering his skin, the scent of your oils on his clothing. There was no doubt he was more than a loyal follower.

Which made your indifference all the more confusing.

How could you not care for Masema’s wellbeing? The way you looked at him at times could even be argued to be loving. Yet you barely blinked when Masema’s deeds reached your ears.

Months had passed when word of Masema’s return reached you. But dissent in the camp had reached a fever pitch, with Rand spreading concern for whether you truly cared for any of them.

His words had brought the people around you into two divisive sides. Those who refused to believe their goddess could ever be so heartless, who accused Rand of being jealous of Masema replacing him at your side. And those who agreed with Rand. Who agreed that your leniency towards Masema was dangerous. That was he was doing was not what they wished to be connected to.

Some had already left, and you had not stopped them. You had no use for people who did not believe in what you told them. What surprised you, however, was that Rand stayed. Despite the vitriol he spewed against you, he stayed.

You had exited your temple to the sight of Rand surrounded by what remained of your followers. If you could still give them such a title. Part of you wondered if Rand would have been so bold in his dissent if Masema had remained at your side, but that was now the least of your concerns.

You watched quietly from the steps of your temple as Rand addressed his captive audience.

“…and the stories of death and destruction are just the start, who knows what horrors could be committed if-“

The heavy thud of hooves stopped Rand in his tracks instantly.

Masema.

“No, my friend, continue.” Masema growled, dismounting his horse and walking slowly to stand at Rand’s shoulder.

You had still not left the temple steps even as he reached the crowd. Rand seemed to shrink into himself at the sight of the man he had just been prepared to insult.

“Masema, my dear friend…I was simply trying to explain...” Rand’s words faltered again under Masema’s glare.

“So, explain, I am here to listen just as your companions are,” Masema’s words her steady, but the tone held the faintest of threats.

And Rand knew one wrong word could spell disaster. If there was one thing Masema was known for not tolerating, it was insults on your name. The silence hung heavy as Rand turned back to the group, knowing he had no choice but to continue.

“I say to all of you now, decide if you wish to continue following someone who would condone such senseless violence with not an ounce of guilt,” Rand’s words were no longer as sure, with Masema’s mismatched eyes boring a whole in his back.

“Are you saying our goddess does not care for us, Rand?” Masema asked, his hand rested on the pommel of his sword as he spoke.

“I am saying, what she allows you to do is verging on diabolical. How can we follow someone who shows such little care for the lives of others!” Rand turned to Masema now, realising there was no good way to end this interaction.

So, he chose to stand his ground.

“Has she not given us better lives? Freed us from paths of darkness and desolation?” Masema’s voice was calm, but his whole demeanour was like that of a predator watching its next kill. Primed and ready to attack.

You had descended the steps at this point, edging closer to the scene unfolding before you.

“Free from darkness and desolation? How can you say that when you have left nothing but death and destruction in your wake, all in her name?” Rand countered, his voice raising in barely contained frustration.

Masema’s reasoning was ridiculous. How could he truly believe that?

“You have truly descended to madness, if you believe that any of this is right!” Rand continued and took a few steps towards Masema, his hand dropping to his own sword.

Masema tilted his head, the aura of calm he held putting everyone around him on edge. He had always struck some semblance of fear into those around him. His proficiency as a warrior was the main cause. But now? It was the unpredictability of him that had people fearing his name.

“Can you not see the hold she has on you? How you have let this creature sink her claws so deep into yo-“

The blade tip that nudged Rand’s throat soon halted his words. He had crossed a line calling you a creature, and he knew the time had passed for apologies. Masema growled so low, it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Do not dare to speak of her with such disrespect.” Masema pushed the tip of his sword a little harsher against Rand’s throat. The atmosphere was tense, as the small crowd at Rand’s back began to call for a duel.

You were on the outskirts of the crowd now, a strange sensation of déjà vu taking over as your mind drifted back to the first time Masema had been in your sights. But you knew, now, it would soon be your time to intervene.

The surrounding followers quickly made a ring around the two men, both now with their blades drawn and ready. The fight started with little preamble; the tensions so high the air felt like it was charged. You watched intently as your two best warriors fought for the honour of your name. For the privilege, it seemed, of being the one you chose.

The fight was evenly matched, Rand was quick were Masema was strong. Both men trapped in an endlessly battle for dominance that neither seemed willing to concede.

After what seemed like an eternity, Masema gained the advantage, quickly bringing Rand to his knees before him.

“Make your apologies, and I will make your death quick and honourable,” Masema hissed, his sword pointed at Rand’s heart.

What no one expected, was your voice over the crowd.

“No more. Put your sword down, Masema.”

A look of confusion crossed his face, but when he met your eyes, he was quick to obey your command. His sword was thrown to his feet, out of Rand’s reach. You stepped into the makeshift ring, eyes never leaving the pair. Masema stepped back as you approached.

You placed yourself between the two men, your back to Masema as you stared down at Rand.

“You are a lucky man, Rand Al’Thor, destiny speaks, and you are not to die today.” You said softly, your fingers trailing from his forehead and back over his head.

He tensed as he felt your skin against his, and he could have sworn he felt the sensation of burning at the touch.

“But disrespect does not go unpunished,”

Fear gripped Rand as your touch became firmer, fingers pushing into the curves of his temples.

“You are no longer favoured by fate, Rand Al’Thor. You are no longer favoured by me.”

His body felt heavy as he felt all the gifts you had ever bestowed upon him seep from his body, a feeling akin to flames against his flesh. He quietly begged for you to stop, for your forgiveness. But your word was final.

He may be protected by destiny, meant for a path greater than you. But he was no longer in your protection. The Dragon no longer needed her once beloved sword.

Rand’s head sank low in shame as your hands left him. A feeling of emptiness taking over him. But what you did next, hurt him even more. Your attention turned to Masema, a look that could be mistaken for love in your eyes.

Your voice was low as your hand rested over Masema’s heart. The heart you had burned your way into along with his mind. He groaned as he felt the power now slip into his veins, into his very soul. Binding him to you as Rand had once been.

“Masema Dagar, will you burn for me?”

a/n as always this is for my Arnas/Masema girlies @foxyanon @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @thenameswinter99 and @legitalicat for not only inspiring me to write part two, but for listening to the brain rot i've had over this fic! Love you!