#suffering the consequences of selfish love

[theangrycomet-art]

The Almanac is a very... interesting read

I have... opinions on some of the behind the scenes world building and what they had planned with S4 (it makes me a little glad the show ended where it did... writers it's bad enough you offed Prowl when you could have had restoring the Allspark be the Key's purpose instead of upgrading Sari- but then to further split up the team whyyyyy)

Anyway, here's Blitzwing and my take on him before the Triple-Changer experiment was done to him against his will and his former partner the cold hearted bitch who did it to him, also pre-op.

COMMISSIONS OPEN

Ramblings (no really- RAMBLINGS) below: I wanted to make this a comic but the Art wasn't Arting

TLDR: Lancer and Blitzwing were taken as prisoners of war by the autobots and Lancer made a lot of bad decisions to try and save his life within they circumstances which directly led to him becoming the first triple changer.

It's a little more complicated than this but basically Blitzwing (then known as Kaltwing) was hurt REALLY bad when he and Lancer were trying to retrieve the Allspark-about partway through the war. Like- missing his legs- wings ripped off- half his face blasted off bad.

So Lancer, or Himmel Lancer as she was then called, tried to put him back together with what she had on hand because she was not about to let her best friend go OFFLINE. This resulted in her basically frankenstein-ing him parts from a fallen tank decepticon's corpse as well as her own parts to try and keep him online.Most notably her own T-cog, as his was damaged and forcing him to attempt to transform at random. Because they were the same Frame type it was compatible enough to stabilize it when she fused the two ports.

Unfortunately, this still left him in extreme agony as Lancer was a RESEARCHER, not a Medic by any streatch of the word. It was one of those times he was pleading with her to offline him that they were caught by Autobots. With Blitzwing barley able to move and Lancer unable to transform, they were fish in a barrel.

The Autobots, after surgically stripping Lancer of ALL her weapons and installing a "contingency clause" protocol, allowed her to continue Blitzwing's "treatment" as well as forcing her to continue such experiments on other captured ‘cons. Many were curious to see where this "project" would go, even if most wouldn't openly agree to it themselves.

This went on for years with Blitzwing being their geniua pig until they reached the final straw for both of the former seekers.

Through a string of luck and incompetence, Lancer managed to achieve the two's original goal and stole the All-Spark right from under Ultra Magnus' nose. She was hoping it would reverse the damage she's done to him, and possibly restore herself in the process, but she was interrupted when the gaurds caught up with her and the contingency clause protocols activated and began frying her from the inside out.

While she was able to stabilize Blitzwing before all this and relieve him of the physical pain he'd been under, it came at cost. Between his fritzing original T-cog and the trauma of having endless, painful operations at the hands of his friend and subsequent the poor treatment from Autobots, his mind broke under the Allsparks "upgrades"z

During the chaos, he manages to break free and slaughters everyone in the facility including Lancer (at least he thought so). He was trying to grant her the clean death she refused him.

(Ironically enough, this damaged her enough for the protocols to think she'd offlined, and thus deactivate on their own).

He escapes back to the decepticons empty-handed and scary the shit out of everyone while Lancer is left to deal with the remaining wrath of the autobots.

[cougar-crossing]

Literally being a parasite is so fun

[age736]

For the Greater Good

Perhaps you do not believe what you are doing can truly be classified as evil. Perhaps some people will be hurt from the immediate consequences of your actions, but what the masses fail to see is the immense good that will come of your plans. Maybe you act in the name of science, or for your people who have fallen on great tragedy. Maybe you see cracks in a failing system and want to uproot it through chaotic, destructive means to avoid greater tragedy down the line. Maybe you're just in with a bad crowd, but you can't leave them, no matter how unsavory their intentions, because they're your only ticket to your ultimate goals. No matter what, your goals are noble, and you take no joy in wreaking havoc or hurting those in your way, but the evils you partake in are necessary. If you need to play the bad guy to ensure a better future, then you are willing to play that part.

tagged by: @acoldsovereign tagging: idk take it if u wanna

[visenyaism]

They butchered Alicent so bad

oh i LOVED her this episode. some of the execution was a little clunky in places but moving the blood and cheese “pick which of your kids are dying” moment to be a conversation between rhaenyra and alicent was sooo fucking choice in a way i really found compelling.

like aegon this episode, alicent has been realizing she doesn’t know what the fucking point of all of this has been. again like aegon because they were raised in a deeply ableist society she cannot conceive of aegon where he isn’t the king she cannot wrap her head around what he’s supposed to be now all of the suffering she bore to get him to this point was for nothing. aemond is acting scary and out of control to the extent that he is an active threat to her and her other children she does not know him anymore.

she gets out loud explicitly asked by rhaenyra to resolve the dilemma that has been her entire character: she either has to choose her children or her relationship with rhaenyra. otto has been drilling this into alicent’s head since she was a child, alicent has been drilling it into her children’s heads since THEY were children. rhaenyra was the only one who pretended that wouldn’t be a choice forced on alicent! so then rhaenyra is the one to demand this of her it’s CRAZY. and alicent, who has been trapped for almost her whole life who has done everything expected of her and has been left with what? so much blood on her hands, everyone hates her, no one listens to her,and the children that she had to bear the conception and raising of against her will are unrecognizable to her. this war is transactional and will not stop until everyone is dead.

and alicent does something fundamentally selfish and cut them loose in the name of all of this just being over. she wants to be a person again. she can’t tell the difference between being her own and being rhaenyra’s those are the same to her. and then she steps out to look at the wide open sky, out of her cage for the first time ever while rhaenyra settles deeper into hers. that’s so interesting. 

the consequence being that she never had control of the narrative! but she’s still punished for this in how this story is told. she’s largely written into the background of the historical record and when she’s there she’s a caricature of a cold ambitious stepmother-queen. they’re trying really hard to reckon with the historical record as history is happening.

overall, I think I can understand why people are upset about this, but I loved it. I thought it was really compelling and there could’ve been a bit more buildup to that moment for her but I don’t think it’s that far out from her previous characterization at all.

[sxorpiomooon]

12th house and your past life karma

all you have to do is look at what sign your 12th house is in for example if you are an aquarius ascendant you'll automatically have capricorn in your 12th house etc. this house is only for the 12th house signs but I'll also be making a post on the 12th house planets and what they mean regarding past life!!

Check out my paid readings

Aries -> Having Aries in your 12th house means that you were native was mean, stubborn, had no respect for life, and were insensitive to the pain and sufferings of others. You will have pay the Karmic debts by becoming sensitive to the pain and sufferings of others.

Taurus -> In the past life you were a miser, greedy, and a wealthy person . In this life the lesson you will learn is about the values, realising that material things do not necessarily bring happiness, love, or fulfilment Being a Gemini ascendant in this life you will pursue your mental objectives and dreams neglecting material possessions.

Gemini -> You Misused your power of communication by spreading lies perhaps careless driving that have caused someone harm, spreading rumors, using media or communication power to tarnish someone's image, mistreatment towards your siblings. Your good contribution towards treating people with care is zero in the past therefore with Cancer ascendant in this life you will pay motherly attention and extra care for all

Cancer -> You were completely unfaithful and irresponsible in your home life. Mistreated your family members especially your mother and children even daughters. Therefore, in present life as Leo ascendant you will suffer with lack of love and attention from your home. You might feel as if you are loved by the society but not liked that also for who you truly are.

Leo -> You might have abused your power and influence for own advancement, controlled others, was selfish, didn't give any value to others love, negligence of family duty and lack of responsibility for your own children in previous life you enjoyed and satisfied your own needs and appetite to the detriment of others. In this life having Virgo as the ascendant you will pay for your sins by serving others.

Virgo -> Might have mistreated and criticized others too much, misuse of power, caused people psychological torture, wrong attitude and action. In the present life you will be the one getting criticised for not giving any importance for details and will yourself be criticized for not doing justice.

Libra -> Your karma might mainly be related to marriage or partnership(business probably). You might have cheated in your business or on your spouse, spoiled someone's married life, has affair with relationship with married people dishonesty, or might have abused your life partner in the past life. With getting everything and everyone in your past life that you wanted without thinking of any consequences for anyone in the past with Scorpio as the ascendant in this life you will always feel misunderstood by others and might never be able to show who you are in your relationships

Scorpio -> took advantage of other's weakness for profit, theft, cheated in business dealing, sexual/emotional exploitation? not sharing the knowledge or right sources. In this life with Sagittarius as your ascendant you will always be the one looking for the source and answers spreading knowledge everywhere.

Sagittarius -> In the past you might have been fully immersed in spiritual and philosophical theories not caring about real life or the people that you are connected with. Irresponsible acts or mistakes made while traveling cause harm to people as well as animals and forests, intentionally or unintentionally. Self-centeredness, neglecting the needs of others, not sharing his knowledge to help others. In this lifetime as Capricorn as ascendant the native will barely focus on spiritual qualities and will run only for the material goods while never being able to express themselves

Capricorn -> You were ambitious and achieved material progress by walking over others in previous life. You were responsible for someone's grief. In present birth with Aquarius ascendant your ambition will only exist to serve other people and you might not be able to find out who you truly are alone while searching for places and people to belong to.

Aquarius -> very foolish and impatient, lack of good logic supported judgement. Walking away from responsibilities in the last life which will in present life causes the person to be dependent and serving others.

Pisces -> In the past the you tried to satisfy his greed by causing others emotional damage, unintentional negligence that resulted in someone's suffering, unable to fulfil own duties because of mental or physical disability. In this life might pay back by always listening to others, having to be there for others having their own suffering neglected by everyone unintentionally

[stevie-petey]

stug stug stug pleaseee i would LOVE to see something where bug is comforting steve maybe he had a fight w his dad or j in general. i’m so excited for season 4! but obvi take your time j know that we’re all very excited bc we just know that you will blow us away with your writing!!

really missin happy steve and bug so im writin this <33

enjoy !

"i dont think it looks that bad."

"youre a terrible liar, y/n."

"im not lying!" but the way your voice pitches gives it all away, and steve knows it.

"im ruined." he drops his head into your lap, burying his face in the flesh of your thigh. partially because hes mourning the loss of his hair, but mostly because he adores your thighs and revels in them whenever he can.

steve is in mourning. he can be as selfish as he wants when it comes to your thighs. its his god given right as your boyfriend.

knowing what hes doing, you shove steves face away from your thighs, though not unkindly. youre still shy around him, his touch against your bare skin foreign after only a month of dating. steve is gentle and patient with you, he understands that youve never really been in a relationship before, so he takes his time with you.

secretly, you adore how gentle he is. how cautiously he skims his fingers over your waist or how softly he breathes against your neck. it makes everything easier, lighter, for you. to be loved so tenderly without any falsehood behind it.

lost in your honey warmth of love for steve, your fingers tangle through his hair. that is, whats left of it. steves chest faces you, the hem of his shirt has lifted slightly during his complaining. soft skin spills out from underneath, revealing a plush tummy. with a mind of their own, your eyes draw down the lines of his abdomen. a low hum stirs in your own stomach.

"are you seriously checking me out right now?" steve taps your nose with his finger, snapping you out of your daze. "i mean, here i am, the love of your life, mourning the loss of beautiful hair that was taken from us too soon, and youre drooling over me."

you flick his forehead, he scrunches his face, and its familiar and lovely. "i wasnt drooling, i just wasnt listening to your dramatic despair."

steve gasps, hand over his chest. "my hair was murdered!"

"honey, only like, two inches were cut off."

well, more like three, but you wont tell him that.

somehow one of the kids, almost certainly mike, left their chewed up gum on the counter top of family video when they visited earlier today. they came in like a storm, turning the place upside down before you, robin, or steve could even stop them. apparently dustin had wanted a new movie, will was bored, lucas wanted max to go outside, and el forced mike to join because shes never seen a movie store before.

the wreckage they left behind for such simple reasons for even entering the store in the first place had astounded you.

then, because steve is always perpetually suffering the consequences of the partys actions the most, had dropped his head down onto the counter top in exhaustion as soon as they left.

right in the same spot the gum had been left.

never before have you ever seen steve crumble to the floor quite so suddenly. it was comical, really. the way he shrieked in horror while you and robin watched, neither having any idea what had just happened.

which leads you to now: consoling steve as you comb through his newly cut hair.

"what, are you implying two inches isnt a huge amount of length?" steve raises an eyebrow at you, teasing, and you blush furiously. sparing you, he doesnt point it out and instead changes the topic. "i hate those little heathens, i really do."

"how do we know one of them is the gum culprit?"

"because theyre cursed little shitheads who always mar my appearance one way or another." then, as an afterthought, steve adds, "plus that wheeler kid has a weird obsession with watermelon gum."

again you try to defend the kids, even though you know it was most definitely mike. sure, he shouldnt have left his gum on the counter, but it was funny. "and how do we know it was watermelon gum?"

"i could smell it when robin was cutting all my hair off, angel."

"and yet youre as handsome as ever!" you press a purposely messy kiss atop of steves head, blowing slightly into his face and making a dramatic kissing sound when you pull away. anything to distract him from realizing it was all mikes fault.

gotta protect the little shithead somehow.

steve shrieks, reminiscent of the shriek from earlier, and shoves you away as he wipes at his face. "ew!"

"how dare you wipe my kiss away, steve harrington."

"you spit on me!"

"lovingly."

steve rolls onto his stomach and throws himself onto you. now its your turn to shriek as he throws his weight on top of you, tackling you onto his bed. luckily his parents arent home, otherwise theyd have some very horrified questions.

"steve!" you land with a soft thud on his pillows, and he smiles up from above you. hes all proud, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and his eyes shine with adoration for you.

hes beautiful. you cant believe hes yours.

"youre supposed to be comforting me, angel!" steve presses himself down even more, rendering you unable to move and wiggle away from him. you squeal when his hands find your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he tickles you. "i mean, im wounded here!"

you squeal with laughter as his hands attack you, mercilessly, yet gentle nonetheless. "s-steve! stop!"

"not until you apologize to my hair."

"your hair?" more laughter rips from your chest, ribs aching.

"mhm, tell my hair that its still handsome. his feelings are hurt." steve buries his nose into your neck, causing you to giggle even more, and the sound encases his body and reminds him of everything good and lovely.

you try to pull away, but steve has you pinned. "youre-ah! youre such an-an idiot!"

"that doesnt sound like an apology, y/n."

finally giving up, you force out an apology in between breaths of laughter. "i-im sorry! your-your hair is handsome!"

steves fingers leave your sides, but he pulls you deep into his chest and collapses upon you. he nuzzles into your neck, wraps his hands around you, tries to meld the two of you into one. "much better," he mumbles into your skin.

"your hair really is handsome, you know." you draw circles into steves back, breath slowly returning to normal. fingers finding his hair once more, you play with the strands and massage his head with your nails. "youre handsome. two inches lost or not.”

"really?" steve lifts his face, looks down at you, preening at your words with an unusual shyness.

you bring your hands to his face, holding it with all the love you have for him. "the handsomest."

lips find lips, and soon the two of you get lost in each other as you inevitably always do.

[bibluebutterfly]

(Edited January 21, 2024. This got a bit outdated so I'm fixing it to keep the main point.)

Since Hazbin Hotel is coming nearer I feel like I should give a heads up:

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: NOBODY IN HAZBIN HOTEL WILL BE A GOOD PERSON EXCEPT FOR CHARLIE AND MAYBE Vaggie.

Alastor is a sadistic blood thirsty cannibalistic serial killer.

Angel Dust is a selfish druggie murderer who gets into gang violence for funsies, and sexually harasses people to cope with his own trauma.

Nifty is almost DEFINITELY a crazy killer when it comes down to it.

Husk is a dead beat drunk who cares for almost nothing.

We already know about Val’s deal. (Even his most prominent fans want to see this man SUFFER, so that says enough.)

Vox enables him, participates in the abuse to SOME degree, and has DEFINITELY screwed a ton of people over to get where he is now. (Getting real tired of the poor baby Vox allegations.)

Not much on Vel but she’s part of the Vees so she’s basically guaranteed to be a bitch. (Updated: Yeah she's definitely a bitch. But I love her.)

Yes. Some of them may be able to be redeemed but they all got in Hell for a REASON. And it wasn’t by being the uwu babies that some of y’all truly believe they are.

These characters are going to be entertaining, but they will also be awful. At least for the start of the series.

You may love them as these poor victims who were screwed over by life, but they’re ALL adults who made their choices and are now living with the consequences.

So just be ready for that when the show comes out, and they have their downright asshole moments or (in the Vees case) just turn out to be plain evil.

[lemon2099]

A little fluffy ode to Miguel's pretty face <3

When it comes to Miguel O'Hara, there are many wonderful features you can stare at.

His eyes, a bleeding crimson that brings back tides of the painful consequences of his behavior. His recklessness and selfishness turning him into the man he is today, trapping him in his new predicament: Atlas of multiverse, when all he wanted was family. Now if he so much turns his back, millions of families will be torn apart, and it will be all his fault. But to you? Those eyes are the warm red of leaves falling off the trees in fall, floating down gently in the crisp breeze as their time passes, resting softly on the grass to be reabsorbed into the soil, resting and waiting for Mother Nature to welcome them home in her warm embrace.

His supple, plump lips that in recent times have only used for guzzling down coffee and yelling to his AI assistant. Before you, he would let them dry out, sit and pick at the cowlicks of dead skin and pull them until they bled all over his mouth, before wiping them off on the back of his palm. It's far from the first time he's ever had blood on his hands. To you, they are large pillows, a gateway to his most vulnerable wounds: the ones invisible to the eye and mind. The ones with no blood, no scars, but the source of plenty of tears. With every stream of air push between those gorgeous gates gives you more insight for how you can help him heal and feel better than the happy man he used to be. Thanks to your loving instance, he now has a small stick of plain chapstick in his desk drawer, right between his scientific calculator and precision screwdriver set.

But you always took to a different feature, placed large and proud in the center of his face. It is the centerpiece of a beautiful buffet to the eyes, unmoving as if sculpted by marble. Often flooded with destructive barrages of smoke emanating from the infrastructure collapsing into the streets after being smacked down by the anomalies, suffocating the suffering populations that have already lost everything and more. The heavy scent pushes him out of the rubble just one more time, to swallow up pungent gobs of soot in hopes of retrieving a pinch of oxygen, to make sure the civilian’s last breath isn't as acrid as the one he just took.

It picks up the scent of the heavy, iron-scented blotches smeared across the concrete. The tangy smell of lost life hopelessly across broken schools and subway stations, a heavy reminder of his impossible responsibility. His enhanced senes usually were usually an essential tool to his missions, but his large nostrils intake information that only make his job harder. A faint metallic scent means blood on the walls, but a stifling one means injury. A blockade cuts off his oxygen, causing him to wheeze, each cough a fight for breath, getting closer and closer while dodging punches and flying debris. But he doesn’t have time to slow down, and even if he physically could, he couldn’t bring himself to do anyway. In the intricate web of the multiverse, his life is meaningless, and he understand that more acutely than anyone. After whipping his head to avoid a broken jaw, warmth slides down his face and blends into the sweat under his mask, coating his face in a warm, sticky substance. His suit is dark for a reason.

But to you? It is absolute perfection. The bridge has the slope of a rolling hill in the countryside, teeming with plant life. Combined with the upward turn at the tip creates the feeling of sliding down before being shot up right back to the top to do it all again, letting yourself get trapped in the loop of its beauty. Wide nostrils create prominence, almost perfectly symmetrical but not exact, like the patterns a spider weaves in its web. Should you chose to look to the side, the stark structure gentle creates the perfect attachment to the rest of his face, carrying your vision down gracefully. There is not a single wrong place to look. Even the clogged pores look like like freckles and the dry skin is more akin to snowflakes. Both are evidence of his hard work. And even after all the turmoil, it still stands large and proud on the center of his face, slicing through the air, the amber light of his monitors and code gently cupping the structure.

"What are you looking at?" He asks bluntly, turning his head to face you.

“You." You reply softly, your eyes still loyal to his beautiful face.

“I can see that." He turns his body towards you. "But why?"

"I never thought someone so beautiful would look my way. And yet here you are.” He blinks once. Twice. Three times before scoffing and turning himself back to his work. A smile starts to form on his face, but right before it can, his nose scrunches up and shoves it back down into his chest.

It was just his way of telling you that he felt the same.

Sorry for the lack of updates, been in a funk lately Please please PLEASE reblog if you enjoyed and feel free to come into my ask box with any questions or requests. Thank you, and have a great day!

[ninglush]

user ninglush jungkook fic recs 𐙚

the story of us by valorkook - reincarnation, soulmate au.

If there was one thing you could learn from the existence of soulmates in the world is that it is dependent on the way you let your life unravel based upon the decisions you make: Whether you choose to fall once again into the scheme of destiny dictated by the heavens above or you learn from your past life and decide to let go.

orange tulips by kainks - reincarnation, soulmate au.

You’d remember jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time.

stoic by blue-jade - ceo, cheating au.

You would rather continue listening to his constant lies and fake gestures of love than accept the fact that your husband was cheating on you.

redemption by blue-jade (part two of stoic) - exes au.

It’s been years since you and jungkook got a divorce and separated, and you’re both suffering in your individual ways. Jungkook, still dealing with the consequences of his selfish and heartless actions, and you? You must tackle life as a single mother.

a hero’s journey by hansolmates - friends to lovers au

Jungkook and Jisoo are the mightiest power couple. However, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. You realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story.

left on read by muniimyg - enemies to lovers, hospital au.

As surgeons, who has time for friends or love? At all costs, jungkook is determined to prove otherwise.

omg also, all her other stories are so good. i suggest reading them all 😹

[pickingupmymercedes]

Maybe in another life - Lewis Hamilton

Part 2 is here: When I get to meet you

Alternative part 2: I'd like to believe

request: "hello can do heavy angst? ... lewis faces the consequences of his stupid actions? like he grovels a lot and suffer a lot. just ripped my heart open with your writing i dont care 😭😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻" - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: Blood, Miscarriage, Asshole Lewis

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Angsty anon, that was a hard one to write. I changed the request a bit, hope it's okay. I just really don't picture him cheating with someone so close to someone he loves, specially since his relationships are very open (as of now, anyway), the rest is still there.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

TRIGGERING CONTENT UNDER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

______________________________________________________________

The white of the hotel room walls seemed to closed in on Lewis as he reread the final line of the letter. "I needed you to know." Y/n's words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the roar of the city outside. Every muscle in his body tensed. It couldn't be true. He reread the entire thing, a cold dread settling in his stomach with every sentence.

The letter started with a casualness that ripped at him further. It was a stark reminder of the way they started – a fling fueled by adrenaline and an undeniable connection.

Then came the bombshell. The night she stormed into his Monaco apartment, the one he'd dismissed with a callous "call me later," wasn't just about a fight. It was about a child. Their child. Shame, hot and acrid, burned in his throat. He'd been a fool, blinded by fleeting pleasure, while she carried the weight of the future alone. Their future.

Tears pricked at Lewis's eyes as he read about her decision to keep it, to raise a mini-him, a mini-her, even without him. A part of him swelled with pride, a terrible, conflicting emotion considering how things ended.

The next part though, stole his breath, and even in the second read was still hard to stomach.

He learned about the miscarriage, the brutal way it unfolded – a sharp pain waking her in the quiet of the night, the rush to the bathroom, the crimson staining everything. The helplessness, the loneliness of it all. He should have been there. He should have held her hand, whispered reassurances. But all he'd offered was a dismissive phone call, months before.

Y/n's words about wishing he was by her side echoed in his mind, a constant refrain. The regret, raw and searing, threatened to consume him. He pictured her, alone, grieving a child they both would've never meet.

The letter continued. She spoke of the physical and emotional toll, the weeks that followed, a blur of doctor visits and a silence so deafening it screamed louder than any argument. She told him about leaving F1, needing a clean break from the world that constantly reminded her of what could have been.

The final paragraphs struck him with a force that left him reeling. "Maybe in another life, Lewis.” Another life. A life where he wasn't a self-absorbed champion, where he saw the woman behind the reporter, where he understood the depth of the love she carried, in her heart, and even for a few months in her womb.

Lewis crumpled the letter in his fist, the weight of his mistakes crushing him. The roar of the city outside mocked him, a reminder of the life that went on regardless of his private turmoil. He wanted to call her, to apologize, to somehow bridge the chasm he'd created. But the letter offered no contact information, and the knowledge that it might be too late settling heavy in his mind.

He sank onto the plush hotel bed, the opulence offering no comfort. He was a champion, a winner, and yet he'd lost the most important race of his life – the one for a future he’d thrown away in a haze of selfishness.

Now, all that remained were the ghosts of what could have been, a forever reminder of the price of his arrogance.

_________________________________________________________

Hi Lewis,

I don't want to blame you for any of what I'm about to tell you.

Our story wasn't exactly a fairytale romance, and I knew full well the kind of life you led when we started seeing each other. But somewhere along the line, things started to feel different. Maybe it was the late-night talks after Monaco, or the way you looked at me after a win, a genuine joy that went beyond the cameras.

Whatever it was, I fell for you, harder than I ever thought possible.

That night in Monaco, when I walked into your apartment, the smell of something I shouldn't have smelled. Then I saw the girls, the half-empty bottles, the porno on repeat. I was disappointed.

But deeper than that, I was scared, so damn scared. I needed to talk to you, Lewis, not just about the obvious, but about something more, something monumental.

See, the reason I was there, the reason my voice was shaky and my eyes probably held a storm you couldn't understand, was because I was pregnant, we were.

We were going to have a baby, Lewis. A tiny little person, half you, half me.

The thought had terrified me at first, the responsibility, the unknown. But then, this strange sense of calm. Maybe I could do this. We could do this.

I'm not gonna lie, I thought about ending it, the pregnancy. And that night made the doubt so much greater.

I need you to know I called the abortion clinic. Twice. I even scheduled a date. But I couldn't do it.

Turns out the universe had other plans.

It was still early, barely into the fourth month, but I swear I could already see a hint of a bump. Just the tiniest swell beneath my usual clothes, a secret I carried close.

I imagined late nights with a fussy baby, the smell of milk instead of the usual post-race adrenaline.

I pictured you, maybe not holding the baby because you were off winning another championship, but calling, checking in, a flicker of pride in your voice.

Naive, I know.

For a couple of days, there was just a feeling, a vague unease that settled low . Like a distant echo of discomfort, easily dismissed with a deep breath and a glass of water. But then, the backache started. A dull ache that settled and radiated outwards. It felt familiar, a dull echo almost like cramps, but different somehow. Deeper, more insistent.

The night it happened, I woke up with a sharp pain ripping through me, from the inside out. It stole my breath away, leaving me gasping for air. Panic clawed at my throat as I scrambled out of bed, a cold dread pooling in my stomach. I didn't make it to the bathroom in time, the crimson stained my clothes, the bedsheets, the mattress.

The smell of blood clung to everything in that bedroom for weeks.

The doctor confirmed it in the emergency, a hollow echo in a sterile room. I had a curettage to get the rest of tissue out.

The weeks that followed were a blur. Doctor visits, tests, a crushing silence that spoke louder than any argument we ever had. The grief was a physical weight, a constant ache in my chest.

I also need you to know that through it all, I mourned the life I couldn't carry to term, the tiny flicker of hope that had bloomed within me and that I couldn't keep safe.

That's on me, and I take full responsability.

I couldn't handle F1 after that. The constant reminder of what could have been, it was suffocating. And leaving was an incredibly hard decision, but I needed that. I had to move on.

Maybe in another life, Lewis. Maybe then things would have been different.

Maybe, I would have told you about the day our child started school, all jitters and excitement, a backpack bigger than their little body. Or maybe I would have been showing you their first wobbly steps, a mess of giggles and misplaced feet, a tiny us with ours eyes.

A what-if that will forever linger in the quiet corners of my mind.

This isn't a plea for a response. I don't even know if you'll read this all the way through. Maybe you'll crumple it up and toss it aside. God, maybe I hope you do. But I needed you to know.

- Y/n

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

Character Flaws vs Writing Flaws:

While catching up on some of the stuff people have commented/sent to me, I noticed someone mention how Katsuki being a bully is a flaw of his and that not every character needs to be a good person.

First of all, when did I ever say that a character has to be morally correct to be a good character? Some of my favorite characters are villains who’ve done worse things than Katsuki.

So what’s the difference between them and Katsuki?

Well, the villains have a reason for existing. Joker is meant to serve as a parallel to Batman, challenging his morals while also showing what an unhinged Batman could look like.

On a much lesser scale, despite his extremely limited screen time, Moonfish’s bloodlust, lack of sanity, and cannibalism serve two purposes in MHA: to showcase Fumikage’s power and to give the readers an example of what the heroes of this world have to deal with.

Katsuki’s flaws are meant to show the flaws of a world that values raw power over morals, but he fails at this. The reason why? His flaws are never allowed to be flaws.

Katsuki’s aggressive and hostile nature should have him struggling to make friends, yet he has the two pillars of 1-A, that being Ejiro and Denkias described by Hori, immediately befriend him with no issues. His inability to empathize with others should have people wanting to steer away from him, but his instead 1-A loves him, Eri loves him despite being the last person who would, and anyone who doesn’t love him is seen as being in the wrong.

Katsuki is meant to be a big fish in a little pond, someone whose ego isn’t challenged until a certain point, and the Battle Trials were meant to show this. While yes, Katsuki has a mini-breakdown over the fact that he’s no longer in a class of people with weaker quirks, he has no issue claiming a spot as a Top Dog and he still continues to demean the people around him.

Katsuki’s aggressiveness is meant to be both a flaw and an asset. His aggressive nature is what motivates him to defeat the villain, but it’s supposed to cause him to have a one track mind when it comes to hero work. Rescue, teamwork, all of that is ignored by him to fight the big bad. His ego caused everyone to have a tougher time during the USJ, but is that ever touched upon? Nope. It’s just ignored. When Katsuki saved Kyouka, there was no buildup to it. It just happens. We never see him struggle with teamwork because everyone else follows him like a lost puppy.

Meanwhile, Izuku is meant to be Katsuki’s parallel in this department. He’s meant to showcase why too much selflessness isn’t good while also showing that a hero is more than just their raw power. Problem is, Izuku gets completely shat on no matter what he does. He goes after a villain to protect U.A? Gets criticized. Does his best to work with Katsuki? Gets blamed despite it solely being an issue on Katsuki’s end. Does everything perfectly? Nope, still not enough. Compared to Izuku, who always seems to be in the wrong, Katsuki’s placed as this paragon of heroic virtues despite the fact both characters are supposed to be two halves of a whole. They’re supposed to learn from one another. Problem is, Katsuki’s flaws are always ignored while Izuku’s positive traits are demeaned.

Finally, Katsuki being a bully is supposed to serve as a starting point for his character. He’s meant to grow and develop as a human being. Again, he doesn’t, or at least he doesn’t do so in an organic way. He never suffers consequences for his behavior, he’s constantly propped up and coddled instead of criticized, and he’s given some heroic moments despite there being no buildup to them. In the span of a month he goes from nearly killing Izuku to risking his life for him. Where the hell did that come from? Honestly, I wouldn’t care if Katsuki being a bully is his sole purpose for existing, but he’s meant to be more than that. This is supposed to be a well developed and fully fleshed out character who grows from his selfishness and is meant to show that anyone can be a hero, no matter their starting point. But when the development is crap and he hardly changes outside of some OOC moments, then his flaws cease to be flaws that he’s meant to overcome. Instead MHA treats it as him being quirky and misunderstood.

In conclusion, you just can’t present something as a character flaw and expect it to serve as an excuse as to why a character exhibits said flaw. You have to think of the following: what purpose does this flaw serve? Is it meant to be used to teach a lesson? Does it set something in motion, whether it be the development of this character, another character, or does the flaw cause the character’s downfall? The only thing Katsuki’s flaws does right is that they set up Izuku’s story, which again would be fine if that’s Katsuki’s purpose, but it’s not. Him being a bully isn’t something that he overcomes in a natural way. His redemption story is the equivalent of filling things out of a checklist without being fleshed out. Every time he screws up, it’s never treated as a screw-up. Oh he failed the hero license exam? Well so did Shoto so he’s not unique there, and the proctors still suck his dick even while he’s “failing”. Him being the reason for 13’s injuries? Never brought up.

Katsuki’s flaws don’t piss me off because they are flaws, but because the writing of his character IS so deeply flawed despite being a centralized character in the story.

Oh, and as always, someone can dislike a character for whatever reason they might have. If people don’t like Katsuki because he’s a bully, then they have every right to. What I wrote is a response as to why I think Katsuki’s a shit character and how it’s not because of his flaws themselves, but how Hori goes about writing these flaws.

[absolutehomosexuals]

Astarion's ascension is extremely popular, despite it clearly being the designed bad ending for him.

So many fans of this version want to argue that it's a "valid" path to choose if you enjoy his character, or that it's equally good as his Spawn ending. The "it's what he wants" argument is the hegemonic justification in question.

But is wanting something better than needing another thing? Yes, he talks about ascension ever since he finds out about the ritual.

Yes, when push comes to shove he's still committed to ascend. But is this enough? Should we support his choice, even when everything but his words tell us not to? Should we trust the judgment of a deeply traumatized man about the best way for him to feel better?

This may sound harsh, but the answer is no.

Because in many circumstances, we see Astarion behaving unhealthily as a result of his trauma: he's hypersexual at the beginning of the game, using sex as a survival mechanism. He's yet to learn what his boundaries should be, what it means not to be an object, to see himself as a person that deserves respect and has so much more to offer than just his body. His trauma is still fresh. And he's so scared of losing his freedom, being trapped under slavery again.

We can't blame him being so desperate to feel safe that he will trade everything he is for it.

Because that's what the ritual means, Cazador says so himself: despite gaining the ritual's power, Astarion is still part of the bargain for said power. He still loses his soul in the process, and that is clear once we see how he acts post-ascension.

Of course, someone that is still suffering from the consequences of 200 years of abuse wouldn't care if he became less of himself, in the process of becoming untouchable ever again. Astarion's behaviour towards himself highlights that he doesn't care for the person he is because that person is, sadly, the product of those centuries of abuse.

He doesn't want to be that person anymore: even better, he doesn't want to be a person anymore: people suffer, people get taken advantage of, people are submitted by more powerful beings. He is willing to give this up not despite losing everything he is, but because of it. And that's what happens after his ascension: he retains his body, which becomes an empty shell of who he once was, with someone else inside of it to fill the void left by his soul.

This situation is a perfect, brutal metaphor of an abused person that later in life becomes the abuser himself, a thing that often happens to male victims of SA.

This is what is fundamentally wrong with Astarion's ascension: he's choosing power, his abuser's tool, over healing. Instead of learning to feel like a person again, to deal with his trauma to life after having endured it, he chooses to not feel anymore, while letting thousands of spawns (like he was) be consumed to get what he wants.

This terribly selfish act is the first instance of Astarion behaving like Cazador, considering the spawns as lesser beings, as nothing but his tools, like all vampire lords do. In this process he also sees himself, the person he gives up being, as a tool. He isn't healing. He's losing all of himself entirely.

Why would someone see this sacrifice as not only necessary to leave his trauma behind, but also preferable to healing from it?

The fan-favourite characteristic of Ascended Astarion is his behaviour towards Tav: in this version of "himself", he clearly is even more sexual than he was in his first days with the tadpole. And this expression of his sexuality is drastically different from the one we got to know prior to this point.

He is dominant, prevaricating, demanding in his avances: he enjoys being in a position of power even in his relationship.

This isn't the Astarion that slowly learns to trust his partner, to build a real loving relationship with someone who sees him as equal and truly cares for him.

Everything that he learns during his romance and his plot gets nullified by his ascension; and yet, this gets overlooked in favour of this more sexually appealing version of him. For people that claim to love his character because of his complexity, Ascended Astarion fans seem to only truly love him when he's less of himself than ever.

When all that's left of him is his body, and he behaves more like the toxic love interest from a young adult romance book, a great number of his fans get wild. Is this all that they want from him? The husk of the funny, sarcastic, dramatic and complex character, filled with this more traditionally masculine attitude, replacing what he used to be? An Astarion that never heals from his trauma, choosing to leave behind everything he was instead? Who resembles his abuser more than ever?

Do his fans who like his ascended version so much to genuinely think this is the best outcome for him, or do they just enjoy being able to project this "macho" fantasy on a physically attractive male character, that otherwise isn't anything like this prototype of man?

We can't help but think that appreciating Ascended Astarion is the same as believing in, if not loving, his hypersexual facade: it's overlooking his humanity in favour of sexualising him.

Which is the biggest disservice one could ever do to his character.

[hotchfiles]

↪ day eight. choices — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [tell me to regret it] ❞

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: aaron prides himself of making good choices. until he makes one he regrets. content warnings: not proofread, pretty sure only one gender mark (miss) by the very very end, a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, happy ending. light mention of sex. word count: 1.1k

      At first, Aaron prided himself on making good choices, at least after graduating high school. All his choices were thought out to the best outcome. His major, Law School, his job, Haley. 

      He then prided himself on standing by his choices. Even if the outcome wasn’t the best. Even if it wasn’t the easiest choice to make, he stood by them. He took the bullet, he accepted the consequences.  

      When Haley filed for a divorce he wanted to fight it, he did, but Aaron knew she had spent too much of her life dealing with his choices. He knew it wasn’t fair for her to fight for a broken marriage because his career was too important to him.

      Every single day he chose to pick up the phone, he chose to leave, he chose to work after hours. So he signed the divorce papers, letting her free to make her own life decisions. 

      Whenever the BAU faced repercussions for their actions on the field on any cases, he took the heat at all times, the eyes of the higher ups were always on him and he took advantage of that to let the team work more freely. If needed, he would take the fall and it would’ve been his choice. And he would be happy with it. 

      There was one decision though, one choice that he made that kept heaving on his mind. He made it, he thought it was the right one at the time and he was living through the consequences. 

      Still every time he saw your eager eyes or heard you laughing at something Emily said, that sharp pang in his heart would take his mind to the last time you truly talked.

      So much so he ended up calling you to his office, not thinking clearly, not planning it out. He just heard your voice at the end of the day, happy, laughing, apparently not suffering from the distance he had chosen to put between you two and for once he was selfish with every intention to be so. 

      “Need help with anything, boss?” The title tastes bitter in your tongue and it hits Aaron just the same. He was Hotch. And then Aaron. Old man. Babe and love. Never boss.

      Boss came after he told you your relationship couldn’t go on. It would hurt your career and his. Boss was now the only way you referred to him, as that was what he chose to be. 

      His attempts to lock eyes with you don’t go unnoticed, but they remain unfruitful as you focus on his desk and your fingers fidget with your necklace. 

      “Not exactly… I–I just wanted to talk to you. We haven’t spoken privately in a while.” Your eyes immediately find his, the hurt and the anger filling them in a way he never saw before, he felt it piercing through his soul and he almost regrets not thinking it through before calling you in. Almost.  

      “There’s a reason for that. We don’t have anything to discuss privately.” 

      “Does it have to be like this?” 

      “I don’t understand, what do you want me to say, Hotchner? That we can be friends? Pretend nothing ever happened between us?” You’re both glad the door behind you is closed, even if it’s late and everyone has left by now. Your voice is slightly raising more and more with each response you give him.

      That’s not what he wants, he selfishly wants to hear your voice crack while speaking to him, he wants you to tell him you miss him, to force out of his tongue what he desperately needs to tell you: That he regrets the choice he made that night.

      He regrets being afraid when you never were. That he’s sorry he pushed you away when you were always an open book. That seeing you seemingly happy and moving right on with your life was killing him because he couldn’t even begin to think of doing the same. 

      Aaron glances quickly at his window to make sure once more that the bullpen is empty and gets up, getting just close enough that you won’t leave. “Don’t you miss me? U–Us?” Funnily enough, his voice is the one cracking up as he speaks. 

      “Aaron, don’t be cruel.” Your voice is barely a whisper, not similar to the one you showed him minutes before, your eyes divert from him again, knowing that if you look at him too much you might tear up and that’s not you. 

      “I’m not doing that.” 

      “You are. You sleep with me, tell me you love me. You push me away, break up with me. And now this? Just… Don’t.” It hits him sharper than a knife how hard he hurt you then. He’s a profiler, he should’ve noticed it, instead he chose to notice only the happy smiley façade you put up to work every day so you could face him. 

      He usually wouldn’t do this in the middle of an argument but maybe he needs to start reevaluating how he makes his choices and this is one of those, so he pulls your hand and although you flinch at his touch you don’t pull away, so he hugs you tight, your arms are dead limbs by your side but his are strong around you, as is his cologne filling your senses, both bring you that familiar feel of safety. 

      “I’ve been foolish, and afraid and selfish. And possibly a handful of other adjectives. But I would never purposefully be cruel to you.” Aaron pulls away from the embrace only slightly, taking your face with both his hands so you can see how true his words are by the look on his eyes. You begin to feel your arms again, sliding them up to his chest where you feel the rapidness of his heartbeat. “I miss you, give me a chance to try this again?” 

      You’re not certain it will work, but you know that he means his words. And you know your heart is beating just as fast as his because just being embraced by him meant everything. So you nod once slowly, seeing his lips turn into a grin as he pulls you into a gentle kiss. 

      His lips taste like hope, hope he won’t make any decision he will regret again. But mostly, it tastes like cheap coffee, which causes you to laugh into the kiss. 

      “Is this all because I stopped bringing you coffee from the coffee shop?” Aaron laughs out loud, a laughter unlikely to be heard by most people, but then again, you are not most people. He shakes his head in disbelief at what you’re saying and licks his lips. 

      “You’re getting way too good at noticing details, miss liaison.” 

      “Just when it comes to you.”

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ Yours ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Armed Detective Agency: Atsushi Nakajima

a/n: took a while but here is the ~atsushi~ counterpart from the soft aku vs. atsushi fic poll. (here is the soft aku fic) i hope you enjoy ♡

genre: f!reader. smut with angst (you cheated on atsushi omg... 🥲). makeup sex.

content warnings: MDNI! possessiveness, unprotected sex + he cums inside (*these are very risky*), overstimulation, general angst, he gets rough at the end (yes ik it was supposed to be a soft fic, but...)

summary: no matter what happens, you'll always run back into the arms of the man who taught you how to love – and he'll run right back to you, too.

you don't know exactly how you ended up here. come to think of it, though, this is always where you end up – right in front of the ada's dorm at the crack of dawn. once the drunkenness of twilight has settled into a sobered reality, your feet stumble on their own in front of this door, seeking shelter from whatever it was that sent you reeling in the first place. it's been said that night time is the play time for sinners and devils. this past year, you found out that you're no exception to that rule – for here you are as living proof, crawling back in search of forgiveness from the very person you've wronged.

"for atsushi?" a familiar voice calls from behind you before your knuckles rap at the door. you barely heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, but you're not surprised to find that dazai's still up. how appropriate for the two people guilty to both be wide awake at this hour. still, running into him like this sends a shiver up your spine. you freeze in your tracks, half expecting him to discourage you from what you're about to do – but instead he just walks past you without another word, and maybe that's even worse. it's just a reminder that you were nothing to him, and that he's barely had to suffer from the consequences of the night you caught together.

you'd imagine that sleeping with atsushi's girlfriend put a strain on dazai's personal and professional relationship with him, even if it only happened one time. at the end of the day though, dazai was atsushi's superior – and the source of his food and housing – and atsushi had no choice but to accept that reality.

you, on the other hand, were cut out of his life. it had been months of no contact between you and your now ex-boyfriend. all texts were left on seen, every call sent to voicemail. you could even swear that atsushi was avoiding all the spots he used to frequent, just to make sure he didn't run into you by chance. you never thought you'd be a cheater – never, ever in a million years – but here you were, having done that very thing to the person who taught you the meaning of unconditional love.

how could you be so selfish? so thoughtless? stupid, even? you'd take it all back in an instant, but you know can't. your feet are about to move. you're about to turn back. you should... yes, that's exactly what you should do. tonight feels too soon – it's all wrong. running into dazai last minute proves that.

and yet, just as you're about to bolt down the stairs, you hear it – the sound of the door in front of you unlocking. it's like a quiet charm. his voice is like a wish that you whispered under your breath. "it's you..." soft-spoken, just as he always has been, and there he is –

– atsushi nakajima himself.

"do you need something?"

there's no malice in his voice – just the same tenderness that he's always carried with him. something about it in this moment feels heartbreaking. you almost want him to yell at you or scold you, just so you can apologize to him with your whole self, or let him know how much you've regretted that day. instead, he stands there with his arms drooped at his sides, unfeeling. it's cruel, that minute of empty silence. you wonder if he's about to close the door on you. maybe he should. it feels like you're miles apart, and the distance is deafening.

just one second more, you think to yourself. it's selfish, you know. let me memorize what you look like. let me remember how your bangs fall. the color of your eyes.

you open your lips to speak, but it's your feet that move instead. one moment you're in front of him, but then you blink, and you're closing the distance between you – you're sobbing on his shoulder, your arms around his neck. silence, save for the sound of your stifled cries against his now-stained sweater.

he wants to push you away, but he doesn't. his arms wrap around your waist instead. the feeling of your body, pressed tight to his, is all too familiar. you're warm, and you smell so nice. it's that same shampoo you've always used, the one he likes on you. you're pretty today, hair falling into place like this. you're just as he remembers. this is his favorite knit on you – you look just as lovely as you did yesterday.

he says nothing, stunned. what is there to say in a situation like this? all he can do is cling to you, hope you don’t let go of him the way you did many nights before… that you don’t tire of him, toss him aside like you did that night. "why didn't you come back sooner–?" there’s a tremble in his voice, and he falls apart. when you meet his gaze, you realize the reason he hasn't pulled away is because there are tears in his liquid eyes. "don't tell me you wanted him instead?" his voice falters. you shake your head wildly, trying to force him to look at you again, but he's pawing your hands away. there’s a pain expression on his face when he finally looks back up at you, wincing. it’s like that of a beaten dog that's come crawling back to its master.

"i thought you hated me..." you confess, words spilling out, "– and you have every right to... it should have only been you.

i only want you."

your words strike him down. his hands are pushing you away at first. at least, that's what he thinks, because every part of him is telling you that's what they should be doing. every part of him is telling him to tell you to get out of his sight, to get out of his life, because he knows it must be wrong to do what he’s about to do. there's a reason that he avoided you in the first place, isn’t there?

but he's past the point of return now – in his heart, he knew this is just how you two would end up.

there's a reason he avoided you in the first place after all, isn't there?

with you in his arms, looking at him the same way you always have, it's no use. guided by sheer instinct, there's no shred of timidness in the fierce way that he grabs at you now. those same hands that pushed you away are now reaching for you, pulling you into his arms with just as much ferocity, eager to hold you again. there's a neediness to the way that he clings to every curve and crevice. you melt into him, and his lips are on yours.

it's been so long – too long. he didn't think your reunion would go like this. at least, he imagined that if it would begin with more talking. with you standing in front of him, though, the memories are all coming back so suddenly –

every laugh, every look;

every argument.

you were his first everything – god, he missed you.

how did he last this long without you?

his hands find your waist first, molding to your form. then, the next thing you know, his hands are on your ass, and he's digging into the fat with his fingertips, and you feel him pin his hips flush against yours as he backs you into the darkness of his room. tonight, it's not enough to just have you – he needs to claim you, all of you.

the door locks behind you, a quiet clinking of metal as atsushi's fingers fumble with the handle, then you feel your back thud loudly against the wall that you know is shared with dazai's room. you gasp quietly as teeth skim your neck, his lips latching onto the tender skin between your collarbone and shoulder. then, you feel his hands grasping you clumsily as he undresses you hastily, desperate to cover every inch that he's touched, to erase every memory of him that might be left.

"am i... being too rough?" he asks concernedly as he helps you out of your cardigan, discarding it on the floor. his voice is a heated whisper in your ear. "it's okay?"

groping him through his pants, you hear his breath grow shallow, watch as he swallows his own spit, his iridescent eyes following you closely as you trace his outline. his breath is ragged, hungry. he lowers his hands from you – lowers all of his defenses – and you sink to your knees, your hands caressing him everywhere, your lips tracing the lean muscle of his body, your mouth re-mapping his skin into your memory... as if you could ever forget what atsushi, of all people, feel like, when he's the very person who taught you what it meant to truly love someone.

your fingers hooking on the waistband of his pajamas, you tug them down his legs along with his boxers, then take his length into your hands. he sucks in a sharp, shaky breath, holding your gaze as you stroke him once from base to tip, enamored completely by the way you look right now on your knees for him – how long has it been since you've touched him like this? he's ashamed to admit that he's thought about this day more than once, now forced to spend an awful amount of time reflecting on how different his calloused hand feels from yours when he's touching himself at night, alone. now, here you are right in front of him, your palm wrapped around him so perfectly. it feels like a fantasy.

you're kissing it, lips pressed to the pretty tip as you bat your eyes at him. atsushi's barely had the time to process that you're here, and now you're flicking away the beads of pearlescent precum with your soft, wet tongue – and god, it feels so heavenly to have you like this. he reaches for you mindlessly, petting your hair, then he lets out these beautifully soft, whimpered moans as you suck on him – a breathless "oh my god..." rolling off of his lips when you finally take all of him into your mouth. "feels... so good..."

then suddenly, you hear him curse under his breath, tossing his head backward when you feel him abruptly hit the back of your throat, hips thrusting forward –

"– ah, god... fuck..." – before he quickly shoves his hand against his mouth in complete embarrassment, face flushing bright pink as he stammers out a quick apology and steadies himself. it's the first time you've ever heard him say something like that during such an intimate act. you stare at him wide-eyed, shocked, but he's avoiding looking at you now, blushing to himself and watching you through his fingers as he pants quietly into the palm of his hands.

then, "kiss me – please." it's a simple request, but it's full of urgency. god, how he's missed you. he cups your cheeks in his hands and brings your lips to his. it's a passionate kiss, sloppy and wet, the type of kiss that has teeth clumsily collide and noses briefly bump against each other. you feel his hand grasp your thigh. he wraps it around his waist, then suddenly his fingers are seeking you through your cotton panties. he pushes the fabric to the side, then you gasp aloud as you feel those slender fingers of his thrust so deep inside of you. it feels dirty – too dirty, even. different, at the very least. the two of you have only ever made love before, and now he's fucking you with his fingers.

"does it feel good?" his voice is a low whisper in your ear. you can feel his hot breath on your neck, his tongue teasing your earlobe, as he slides his fingers in and out of you, collecting your sticky arousal on his fingertips. you moan as you feel his thumb find your clit, making slow, steady circles, then you pull back from the kiss to look at him, just to see the face he might be making at you. he's gazing at you with these half-lidded, lustful eyes that are just desperate to hear your praise. though inexperienced, atsushi's always been an attentive lover, keen to your every sound and movement. as his first, you taught him everything he knows – and as such, you've taught him exactly how to pleasure you. drawing his name from your sweet lips comes all too easily.

he's greedy with his fingers, eager to taste you on his tongue, and you watch him as he licks you off his fingers and kisses you again and again like it's never enough. he's even greedier with his words, eyes glinting with satisfaction after you cum on his fingertips, crying out for him.

"i can make you feel better than he can," he coos into your neck as you convulse in his arms. "i'll make you feel so good."

atsushi's never thought of himself as a possessive man, but things certainly change when someone takes away what's rightfully his. now, with you singing his praises, he can't help but want more. fingertips burrowing into your hips, he bends you over his desk and you hear him ask,

"can i put it in just like this?"

your eyes widen –

of all the things he could have said, you'd never expect this – and from atsushi, of all people. "raw?" you stutter out in disbelief, and he nods at you unflinchingly, continuing to pamper you with his affection, hands reaching for your breasts, shaping and squeezing them around his palms. "it's risky..." your voice trails on the last syllable, words subsiding into a soft moan as you feel his finger traces around your nipple before he claims them with his tongue. you push the messy bangs out of his forehead to read his expression, but there's not an ounce of hesitation on his face.

– "i know that."

you're trying to think straight, but you can't. all you can think about is how intensely hot your body feels right now, and what it might feel like to have him fuck you until you've been completely forgiven. slipping your soiled panties down your legs, you nod at him to continue. "yes, i want it," you whisper desperately, and you're surprised when your voice comes out like a whine as you ease your thighs apart for him. "put it in… please –"

he nods, then reaches for himself. he's as gentle as he always has been with you – perhaps even more so tonight as he presses fleeting kisses to your hair and murmurs reassurances into your shoulder that he's about to put it inside. his lips are soft against your neck and spine.

you moan as as he slips the blunt head inside your wet, waiting entrance. he’s careful not to hurt you, guiding it slowly. it’s perfect. how long has it been since you've felt this – since you've felt him touching you like this? so loving. so right. you sigh into his touch, listen to the sound of his sharp inhale and feel him nearly collapse into your back once he bottoms out inside you.

he's amazed by the feeling of your bareness against him and the way your slickness squeezes around him. he pauses, then glances down. oh, wow – the sight of himself disappearing inside of you is enough to drive him wild. you're so warm and wet. kunikida was wrong when he said sex without a condom feels the same as sex with a condom. he must have been lying just to keep him safe when he first started having sex because this feels a thousand times better – he can feel everything like this, all of you. every ridge, every pulse, the very ache that’s throbbing inside of you. you're gripping him so perfectly. he needs it so badly… needs you so badly.

"mm, it's so good..." he groans, pressing his lips to your neck. then, you feel him start to move from behind you, hear the quiet sound of his skin hitting yours as he brings your hips back against him, nice and slow. the room is silence save for the sound of your breath becoming shallow as his pace quickens. his fingers seek you again between the thighs, and you shudder forward, burying your face into the wood of the table as you gasp. "does it feel good for you too?" his voice is a low whisper in your ear. "yeah?"

you whimper out your approvals, feeling his thumb pressing on your clit again. you're so sensitive from your last high that you cry out, sobbing as you beg for more. he pins your wrists behind your back, pushing you into his desk, and you feel him reach you at an angle you've never felt him before. he's so rough tonight – but it feels so good.

"h-harder–" you stammer out, and you feel him shove your face against the desk as he thrusts faster. "i need you so bad." you're liquid in his hands and you melt as you moan out his name, tthe syllables are sloppy on your tongue, spilling from your lips like water as you cum from his fingers again.

"a... tsu.. shi... please. atsushi..."

yes, say it just like that – atsushi, atsushi. atsushi.

then, "where do you want it?"

– "inside me."

you feel his fingers tip your chin toward him, then his eyes are on you.

there's not an ounce of malice behind those iridescent eyes as he bats his eyelashes at you – just the same tenderness that he's always carried with him.

"watch me cum for you."

there's a steadiness to his voice, an unwavering certainty as he captures his lips in yours and leaves you breathless. "you're mine. don’t ever leave me again.”

then, you feel it: his cum leaking down your thighs.

warm and white, trickling down your legs.

you'll take all of it, all of him.

"i'm yours, atsushi. yours… yours."

author ps: yes it has similar themes to the aku x reader one yes i am a sskk shipper on the side

© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!

[volklana]

To You I Belong

Title Comes From This Song:

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple spying mission, like the ones he had done many times over, draw no suspicions, take no prisoners, leave no casualties and then slip away into the night with the precious information he had learned. What he did not factor into this equation was encountering the love of his life.

Warnings: Reader is a slave for the first part of the story.

The moment he laid eyes on you something stirred in his very soul, something he had never felt before, and it unsettled him, deeply.

Sihtric had never failed Uhtred before. 

Not once. 

But he was about to.

And if he was honest with himself from the moment he had entered the Dane’s camp, he knew he was going to do something he had never done before, he was going to be selfish.

Because from that very moment he saw you he had decided he would do whatever he could. Suffer whatever consequence came his way to get you out of here. 

It was supposed to be a simple spying mission, like the ones he had done many times over, draw no suspicions, take no prisoners, leave no casualties and then slip away into the night with the precious information he had learned. 

Except he was sure of one thing with great certainty, he would not be slipping away into the night unless it was by your side. 

He had watched you for nights now, pouring ale into the cup of the brutish Dane Ulf, who possessed you, slave irons around your neck, which tethered you to him. 

He watched you flinch every time he rose, and watched in horror as he backhanded you roughly for dropping his cup once when he yanked too harshly on your chains.  

“Saxon bitch,” he hissed as you held a trembling hand to your cheek, before gathering yourself and pouring the drink into his cup. 

“Pour one for my friend too,” he instructed, and Sihtric almost held his breath as you stepped into his proximity to pour into his empty cup, he thanked you with a small nod of his head, and for a moment your eyes lingered on his before you were yanked backwards and were forced to stand beside your brutish slaver again. 

“Why do you keep those chains on her?” Sihtric had asked and Ulf sighed a long hard sigh before leaning forward, voice dipped as if sharing a secret with Sihtric, “Do not let that face fool you. She is wild like a mare, bites like one too.” 

Sihtric was beginning to despair at how he could get you away from Ulf.

He thought about slipping into his tent at night, slitting his throat and simply stealing you away but he couldn’t trust that it would be so easy, and Ulf never left your side for long enough to simply steal you away.

The only time he ever left you unguarded was when he had you chained to a stake not far from his own tent and it was in these rare moments where Sihtric could talk freely with you. Bringing you stolen rations of food or allowing you to sip from his own water pouch.

If,you fought like a mare, Sihtric thought it was only because you were frightened, he could read it in your huge worried eyes whenever he was near you.

You always expected pain and it took you days to accept the food straight from his hands and not from the ground where he placed it, hands up and backing away to show he meant to harm.

It broke his heart.

Sihtric once again found himself around the campfire, sipping slowly from his cup, eyes once again on yours when Ulf’s booming voice pulled his attention.

“You like the look of my woman?” he teased, half slouched back on the ground, his gullet filled with ale and Sihtric swirled the liquid around in his own cup instead of answering.

He yanked roughly on your chains and you were pulled forward, “I said,” he commanded again “Do you like the look of my woman? You have been humping her with your eyes all evening. Perhaps I should cut your eyes from your head so you learn to not look upon things that do not belong to you. Or perhaps,” he suddenly rose and made to tear at your clothes to expose you, “I should show you what you are missing.”

Sihtric rose from his seat like a lightning bolt, sword drawn and ready to strike when Ulf suddenly laughed and stood back with his hands raised “I jest friend, come, let us sit, there is no need for blood to be spilled this night.” 

He plonked himself drunkenly down on the ground and even though Sihtric was seething, chest rising and falling in anger he slowly put down his weapon, before doing a quick check over of you.

You remained standing eyes wide, looking like a rabbit cornered by foxes, and remained frozen in fear of another blow from Ulf.

You were being punished. For two nights now you had been forced to sleep outside, chained to that godforsaken stake in the ground, denied food and drink because you had nearly bitten Ulf’s ear clean off in an attempt to flee him a few nights before. Tired of enduring him, tired of his violence. And you would have made good on your escape were it not for the stupid shackles you wore around your neck, for as soon as you had run a few hundred paces he managed to grab a hold of the chain you dragged along behind you and yanked you down to the ground, you still bore the cut where your lip had split from his blows and your throat still ached from where he had nearly strangled the life from you, but unfortunately you had survived the ordeal and knew you would never have the chance to flee again.

The nights were freezing, and frost covered the ground, you shook so violently your teeth chattered in your skull and Sihtric came both nights to cover you in his furs, sitting with you in silence until your body stopped shaking, although sometimes you wished he wouldn’t so that the frost may take you with it, but you would have been lying if you said your heart didn't flutter in your chest when you saw his figure approach each night.

“Here lady,”  a gentle voice pulled you from your despair as Sihtric hunkered down in front of you and passed you his leather pouch filled with water to drink from, “You must be thirsty.”

Your anxious eyes scanned the night for a glimpse of Ulf, and Sihtric whipped his head around to follow your line of sight, and realised it was the brute you were looking for, but you visibly relaxed when you could not find him.

The cold liquid soothed your scratched throat and Sihtric encouraged you to drink some more, “Take as much as you need, I will bring you more later,” he said honestly and your heart fluttered in your chest at his unwavering kindness.

“You are not like them,” you said after a few moments' consideration, “You don’t belong here, you are gentle.”

Sihtric stilled all actions for a moment, it was the first time you had ever spoken to him and he had not been expecting it.

“That has always been my problem lady, I have never wanted to be like them,” he smiled sadly, remembering back to the days when Kjartan the Cruel would have him tortured simply for being so soft. “Weak,” he had spat at him, yet him and Sven, his one eyed goat turd of a brother, were gone and only Sihtric remained. 

“You will not hurt me?”

“I will not.”

“You will not try to claim me?”

“I will not,” he promised again and you took a second of liberty to look up into those open, honest, mismatched eyes and found no lies there.

“My name is Y/N,” you told him as you handed his leather pouch back into his hands, his rough fingers momentarily encapsulating yours. 

“I am going to get you out of here,” he promised and a lump caught in your throat.

“You cannot promise that,” you cried and he took your hands fully in his.

“I swear to it y/n, when I come for you and I will, be ready to run,”

“You swear it?” you cried, voice wobbling and he squeezed your hands with conviction.

“I swear it, on my gods and yours.” 

There was a skirmish in the camp and your heart caught in your throat, you were trapped and caught in the centre of it all. You could smell the burning boats and blood and next thing Sihtric was in your vision, axe in hand hacking at the chain that held you in place and when it finally snapped in half he was pulling you wordlessly, your legs ached and your lungs burned but you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, Sihtric hacked and stabbed at any Dane who attempted to stop him “Keep going to the horses,” he urged whenever he was slowed down “Don’t stop I will meet you there!” 

True to his word he hoisted you effortlessly onto his horse and took to riding with all his might, away into the night.

As you finally reached Coccham, Sihtric offered you his hand and helped you climb down from his horse, he brushed you down but was careful not to allow his hands to linger or make you uncomfortable. 

“You will be safe here,” he promised.

His friends had suddenly gathered around eager to hear what information he brought with him and the head of Uhtred’s household stepped forward.

“I claim her,” she suddenly demanded “She is a good strong one. I claim her as a servant.”

“No,” Sihtric barked and Uhtred stood to attention in front of him, “She is not yours to claim and she will never be a servant again. Is that clear,” he commanded, demanding anyone to even dare to defy him.

“Fine,” she sneered “Keep your little slave.”

“She is no slave,” he spat “She is free.” 

Sihtric was like a wild animal, teeth bared and ready to bite.

“She is free!” Finan concluded coming to stand beside his friend and he did not need to speak it aloud for Sihtric to understand he too would fight any man or woman who dared to challenge Sihtric.

“It is agreed,” Uhtred nodded and Sihtric was marching upwards to the burgh to find the blacksmith to finally remove the shackles from your neck, there would be time to pass on his information over supper.

“I don’t know if I have the tools,” the smith looked sympathetic but not too worried about finding the tools but Sihtric was irate, “You will find the tools or you will never yield another tool again,” he threatened and within moments the iron shackles were removed from your bruised neck and you were free.

You stood before Sihtric in bewilderment as he was pulling off his armrings and placing them into your hands. 

“You are free,” Sihtric said gently but sadly because he genuinely expected you to flee, now that you had the option to but you remained rooted in place.

“I promised you I would not claim you, your destiny is your own. If you would like to return home I will arrange a horse for you, if you would like to stay I will arrange boarding for you here within Uhtred’s household.”

You considered him for a moment, standing before you shyly and then you flung yourself into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his neck, “Thank you,” you whispered softly into his skin “Thank you.”

His own arms locked around your form, and he gently brushed his fingers through the length of your hair.

“I wish to stay,” you said when you broke away and Sihtric made to say he would arrange it, “Not in boarding, not in Uhtred’s household. With you. I would like to stay with you.” 

Sihtric swallowed thickly and blinked quickly, but nodded nonetheless.

You bathed and dried your hair by the hearth in Uhtred’s hall, and with warm food in your belly and proper clothes on, you felt somewhat human again.

Sihtric was sitting amongst his friends, eating and deep in talk, no doubt deciding what their next plans would be. 

You touched your hands to where the weight of the shackles had been for months and were not used to the feeling of not finding a weight there. 

Osferth, the monk came to sit by your side so he too could warm himself by the fire.

“You are Christian?” Osferth enquired and you shook your head.

“I was,” you said, looking towards Sihtric “Now I only believe in strength and those brave enough to do the right thing.” 

“You look to him,” Osferth mused, following your line of sight. 

“He cared for me when none other did.” 

“Could you? - Might you care for him?” he asked sincerely and you nodded, unable to stop the tears that formed in your eyes, when Sihtric’s own eyes landed on yours.

“Yes, I believe so.” 

“We are to ride on to Winchester,” Sihtric informed you, “You will be safe here until we return,” he added and you shook your head violently.

“I will go with you,” you stated and he shook his head.

“Y/n, you should stay where you are safe.”

“I am safest with you,” you pleaded and he grimaced.

“You are free. You owe me no fealty, you are not bound to me. You do not owe me-”

You pressed your lips to his, cutting off whatever it was he was about to say.

“I do not choose to stay with you because I feel indebted to you. I stay because I am your woman now,” you told him, cupping his face in your hands “You hear me? I am yours by my own choice. Of my own free will. If you will have me, that is.”

The smile that broke out over his face was almost boyish and his own hands sprung up to rest on yours, still holding his face.

“You are the only decision I’ve ever made that was selfish, that was purely my own- that was for me and me alone.”

“Then choose me again,” you smiled back “Choose me every time, as I will choose you.”

Sihtric closed the distance, crashing his lips to yours and he was agreeing to take you to Winchester because he would have asked the gods to carry you to the moon if you asked it of him.

"To you I belong Sihtric," you had whispered that night as you made love under the stars, and you traced the scars of Sihtric's body trying to commit every one to memory. "To you I belong."

Father Beocca joined your hands together and Sihtric’s smile was contagious.

“Behold my oath, that I will take no other as my wife but you,” Sihtric promised.

“Behold my oath, that I will take no other as my husband but you,” you returned and Father Beocca blessed the union, and when he finally announced you man and wife, Sihtric leaned in to seal the union with a kiss.

You reached for his Thor’s amulet and brushed your thumb across the hammer and whispered,

“May Thor bless our union with strength and courage. May Freya bless us with family and prosperity, and may Loki never deny us laughter.”

Sihtric chuckled and swept you up into his arms as Beocca looked on blissfully unaware of the heathen oath you had just made in his presence.

“And just where did you learn these words?” he mused and you turned your head in delight towards Uhtred.

“Say the part about Freya again my love,” he urged. 

“I have said it once,” you teased “And now only our actions will bring it to fruition.” 

“Well let us make haste,” he cocked with a smirk “For we would not want to disappoint the gods.” 

And indeed Freya did bless the union for many years later, when Sihtric became the Lord of Dunholm you had enough offspring to form your very own witan.

And true to his word Sihtric never allowed you to be a servant again, but he would never know that you served him and only him from the moment you laid eyes upon him until the day they would shut forever. 

But your vow to him was always the same.

To you I belong.

Tagging:

@canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon

@acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @gemini-mama

@troyottonick @alexagirlie

a-beaverhausen nebulamorada izzydlb knight-of-flowerss

justcuriousandbored

[loveydovey-leviathan]

"promise"

leona x gn!reader

summary: leona pushes you away because he wants you to be happy | 2k words

cw: very loosely based on the song "promise" by laufey, reader is yuu, farena uses yuu's happiness against his brother, kinda ooc, leona doesn't know how to handle his emotions or problems, he's a dick but when is he not, leona pushes you away and he doesn't communicate properly, reader chooses leona over their world, happy ending because im not one of those writers who likes to see everyone suffer /j

.

The day Leona had was too nice and the night too beautiful for him to be putting up with his perfect, always-the-first-choice, thinking-he-knew-what-was-best-for-everyone, and quite frankly just plain annoying older brother.

"What do you want?" he grumbles as soon as he answers the call, lying down on his bed.

"What, I can't call my younger brother just because?" Farena chuckles, a sound familiar to Leona but he knows him well enough to realise that he has an ulterior motive besides just checking up on him.

"You don't call unless it's to tell me something."

"Now, I know that's not true! I've called you plenty of times but-"

"Spit it out."

The voice on the huffs, but it's followed by a few seconds of silence. Leona is about to hang up before Farena finally breaks it.

"I know about your relationship with the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, Leona. Did you really think you could hide it from me.?

"I never hid it from you."

"Then how come you didn't tell me? It's been months!"

"I don't tell you anything."

"I know that but I thought you'd tell me this at the very least," another sigh from the King. Leona waits for him to continue because there's clearly more to this pointless conversation.

"Leona, you may not be King but you still have responsibilities to uphold."

"I knew what I was getting into when I chose ___."

"Yes, but do they know?"

"Of course, they do, they aren't stupid."

"Are you sure? And I mean absolutely sure, no doubts whatsoever and everything was made crystal clear since the beginning. I'm not talking about the stupid part, in case you were wondering."

"What are you getting at," it was more of a demand than a question.

"You're a prince, Leona! That's what I'm getting at, you can't be selfish like this!"

"Yes, I can," Leona knew he was selfish, but so many things had been taken from him purely by chance, but you chose to love him. He was your first choice and he'd love you for the rest of his life, consequences and stupid responsibilities be damned.

"I meant concerning ___. They're from another world, correct? Would you make them choose between you and the family they have back in their home?"

Leona doesn't like to think about it. The thought is shoved into the far corners of his mind, where worries as heavy as this are left to fester, waiting to attack on lonely nights. He grips his bed sheets tight.

"You should consider their happiness as well, Leona," he knows that, everything he's done was in an effort to do so– to prove to you that you weren't going to regret loving him.

"And if they do choose you, and if this relationship lasts until both of you graduate, do you think they'll be happy here with you? It's one thing to date during school, but when you leave its confines and truly become a Prince, will they still be happy with you? Royalty has always upheld a tremendous amount of responsibility, and the spouse of said royalty is expected to share that burden alongside them."

Once again, Leona doesn't answer, and Farena sighs. It's one of finality and exhaustion.

"I hope you think about what I've said tonight, Leona. Good night, and I'm always here when you need me," the call ends and the second son puts down the phone. He doesn't know how long he stays awake staring at the ceiling, but by the end of it, he clenches his fist even harder and grits his jaw. He loves you too much to be selfish.

━━━━━━━

You find Leona under his usual spot in the botanic garden. He’s as pretty as always but it’s immediately evident to you that something is wrong. His body is too tense, there are dark circles under his eyes and his tail is lashing side to side in a rapid manner. 

“Leona?” you call to him, but he doesn’t answer, though you know he’s awake. You step towards him and sit down near his head, expecting him to drag your body nearer so he can lay on your lap. He doesn’t move.

You know him much more than he thinks you do, so there isn’t a doubt in your mind when you ask “...Did your brother call?”. At that, he finally raises an eyelid and his mouth moves to form the question you’ve become used to, ‘How’d you know?’ but only a sigh leaves his lips.

Suddenly he sits up, and you notice that there’s at least a foot of distance in between you. He stares at your face for a while and the silence as you wait for him to say something stretches more than it should– something is wrong and even though he isn’t acting that weird, there’s a heavy feeling in your gut that spreads to your chest and onto your fingers, begging to hold him.

So you do. You scoot closer and entwine your hands with his. He hesitates for 1, 2, 3 seconds before squeezing back and tucking his head into the crook of your neck like all he wants to do is hide away. Gently, ever so gently, you place his head onto his usual spot on your thighs and he buries his face in your stomach. The action is tight and desperate, his body curls as though he wants to mould his very being to you. It cracks open your ribs and makes your heart bleed because when he hurts, you hurt with him.

The rest of the lunch break is quiet but he doesn’t fall asleep. And when you leave you don’t see him for days.

━━━━━━━

He senses you before he even hears your footsteps, before the warm and familiar sound of your voice fills the hallways of this school. It’s always been like that with you, he realises. He doesn’t even have to search for you– it’s like he already knows his place in the world and that’s by your side, so he just gravitates towards the one he’s given his heart to. But he makes a conscious effort to ignore the tug of his legs that instinctively wants to be near and moves away. 

He knows he should just tell you, end it all before he hurts you and the poison in his veins that tells him he’s never going to be good enough taints you as well– which you aren’t, you deserve so much more than a second no-good prince– but he’s also selfish, and he figures out that he is also a giant coward.

The voice that tells him so screams at him when he breaks his promise and goes back to you, tail between his legs and shame on his shoulders weighing him down. It always happens when he’s delirious on sleep deprivation because he can’t close his eyes without seeing you and the hurt expression you try to hide when you think no one’s looking. He tries to push you away, or rather to pull himself away– but he can’t stand the thought of you going back to life without him even though his conscious mind wants you to. 

When he first showed up at your doorstep, the betrayal and shock pummelled his soul to the earth and made his heart drop to his gut. But you didn’t say anything when he barged into your personal space and wrapped himself around you like he never left. He half-expected you to demand why he’d been so distant but all you did was hug him back so tight his heart lodged in his throat and tears welled up from the choking feeling. You took him by the hand and you both slept on the couch that night. By the next morning, he was gone without a word and the guilt felt even heavier, knowing he got your hopes up. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this again.

That night repeats days after and the cycle repeats. His visits don’t have a pattern. Sometimes, he comes after 3 days, others a week or more. By the third visit, you look tired- of him. He hates it but somehow it feels right, not in the way he likes but in the way you’re supposed to. The way you deserve to. Maybe if you hated him you wouldn’t hurt.

━━━━━━━

He’s lost count of how many times he’s visited but tonight when he sees you, you look angry, rightfully so. You’re undeservingly patient towards him. When Leona sees your face, you’re angry– furious at him. You look like you want to throw him across all your furniture in hopes that he feels the same way you feel.

“Leona–” he hates the way you say his name. It’s angry and cruel and deserved. “-- what the hell is going on? You won’t tell me what happened to make you act like this and then you ignore me for days right after–”

“Nothing’s going on,” he stubbornly grumbles. Like he’s said every time you’ve asked. Every time he says this you look increasingly frustrated because it’s obvious that he’s lying– and your eyebrows scrunch in exasperation once more.

But this time your face falls and his heart stops.

“We can’t keep doing this anymore, if you don’t tell me– then I can’t be with you.”

He doesn’t know why he’s so frazzled– this is what he’s been waiting for because he was too much of a weakling to tell you himself, why he started all of this in the first place.

But he misses you, and he’s selfish. He always has been and he doubts he’s ever going to change.

“Would you choose me?” The question makes you pause.

“Leona, I did choose you–”

“If you could go back to your world, would you still choose me?” Would you pick me first?

You’re silent then. His palms almost bleed with how hard he clenches his hands as he waits for you.

“...Yes. Yes, I would. If you tell me why you’re acting like this.” He doesn’t know if you’re telling the truth, if you’ll still tell him that if there really was a time you had to choose between him and your world. But he’s so tired, and he loves you more than the amount of stars there are in the sky.

“I got a call from Farena,” this makes you hesitantly reach for his hand. He meets you halfway and you rub your thumb over his knuckles. The action makes him want to tear up– you’re still so gentle with him after everything.

“Do you think you’ll be happy with me? When we both graduate and I have to help my brother rule, will you be happy?”

He feels your hand on his cheeks, lifting his head to look at you properly. The look in your eyes isn't angry or hurt, it’s soft and understanding. He almost forgot how it felt to be on the other side of your affections.

“I knew what I was getting into when I chose you. You’re rough around the edges but you make me happy in ways no one ever did, like no one ever could.”

He moves his arms to hug you but he stops, still not sure if he’s allowed to. You meet him halfway and he buries his face into your neck. You feel tears stain your shirt and he lets out a sigh so deep and tired it makes you smile.

“Haven’t been able to sleep without you, herbivore.”

You chuckle, “Guess you aren’t getting rid of me then.”

“...Sorry.”

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you too, more than anything.”

You hold him with enough love to break his heart all over again, and he holds you like a beast who doesn’t deserve it but will gladly take anything you give him.