#that was. that was literally all that happened
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ohnoitstbskyen · 2 days ago
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asking sincerely. do you see a romance between jayce and viktor? do you think they ended up being something romantic at the end?
With apologies I am going to only half talk about the thing you are asking me, since I have something else on my mind and you happened to hit the button that makes me vomit it into words.
Coming at this from an aromantic perspective, I obviously don't experience the state of absurd obsessive delusion that you bizarre romantic freaks fetishize so feverishly*, but I am often annoyed by the idea that friendship and romance are either opposites or mutually exclusive. From my perspective, the boundary between the two is at best thin, and more realistically not actually a boundary at all except by cultural construction.
*i am taking an excessively hostile, crass tone for my own amusement i do not mean this seriously please be normal at me, weird allo freaks
I won't get into my full feelings about the end of Arcane, but it seems perfectly plain to me that the script, the imagery and the animation presents Jayce and Viktor as two halves of a whole, not opposing forces but alike to yin and yang: opposites which each contain the other. And at the climax of the show, the greatest peril to life and peace in the narrative is resolved by these two men literally joining their bodies and souls together, and going into eternity holding one another for comfort and strength. They are quite literally soulmates, quite literally the most important people in one another's lives.
I don't think that that kind of intimate emotional connection between men must necessarily be either romantic or sexual - I am aromantic, and plenty of ace people exist, and there is nothing in our natures excluding us from intense connections of love with other people of any gender.
I also think it is willfully ignorant (and genuinely homophobic) to act as though these deep connections are mutually exclusive with sex and romance. As though if Viktor and Jayce fucked nasty and made out sloppy style, suddenly their intimacy is less pure or valid, or tainted somehow.
"If these two men who are emotionally close to one another also fuck or get romantically involved, then friendship is dead, murdered on the floor by a dick-shaped knife; vile sexuality corrupts and debases the true, pure and virtuous love of ✨friendship✨" <- This shit is homophobic at a baseline, queerphobic in general, and frankly as an aromantic man I find it pretty fucking insulting as well.
What, are my friendships with other men just inherently more pure and divine, more meaningful and true than a gay man's can ever be, because I will never suffer the vile temptation of adding romance to my affection? Is that how I should think of myself? And is an aroace man more pure than me still, the only source of TRUE male friendship that a man can ever experience, free from the pustulant corruption of sexuality and romantic desire?
You get this pathetic defensiveness (especially from men, but other genders aren't immune) wherein sex and sexuality and romance between men is perceived as a threat to men's right and ability to experience deep connection to each other. But the emotional castration of men comes not from people imagining sex and romance as a component of our relationships - it comes from people who insist that our emotional lives must be ruled by strict binaries. Sex and romance, OR ELSE friendship. Deep romantic connection OR ELSE deep platonic connection. Pick one and do not dare to imagine both, nor act as though the boundary between them is something that we built by cultural fiat, and which can be dismantled just the same.
And yes, yes, yes, I know there are cultural forces literally illuminati-style conspiring to systemically erase the entire existence of explicitly romantic, sexual male love from media, and I know that homophobic puritanism is on the rise and there are material concerns and a real necessity for explicit representation in fiction, yes I know. Everything is more complicated than a tumblr post can cover, I am not trying to Solve Rainbow Capitalism™ over here, I am trying to express frustration as an aromantic man that this stupid fucking binary keeps getting culturally reinforced by both my enemies and my well-meaning allies, when I think the binary is what's fucking killing us in the first place.
So anyway. My position is that Viktor and Jayce can be entirely aromantic no-homo friends, and they can fuck nasty in the throes of mutual need and obsession, and I refuse to entertain the idea that there is an irresolvable contradiction between those things. Each of those can contain the other, or become the other given time and circumstance.
What the imagery, storytelling and script of Arcane makes clear is that Viktor and Jayce love each other more than life itself. To say that that love must be shoved into the box of either "platonic" or "romantic" is to miss out on almost everything that is beautiful about love. It can be both and neither! It can be a secret third, ninth or fifteenth thing that they haven't invented a tag for on Ao3 yet.
They are giving each other whatever the spiritual mind-ghost equivalent of sloppy backshots are on the ethereal plain forever, they are the most romantic lovers in the cosmos, and they are also the most chaste and platonic life-partner friends you have ever seen, effortlessly intimate and unashamedly tender. They are men who love one another, in every way that love matters.
You can pick whichever interpretation brings you joy, and resonates with what your heart needs, the text of the show is eminently and explicity open to it, and anyone who says otherwise either failed to pay attention, or refused to pay attention on purpose.
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lokissweater · 15 hours ago
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a good man
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{bodyguard!kento nanami x rich girl f!reader}
summary: kento nanami has been your appointed bodyguard since the age of nineteen. his poised, calm, respectable mannerisms having you falling to your knees over him as he was completely different than any of the other boys in your life… for he was a man— taking care of your rowdy party girl behaviors and guiding you with the best advice and judgement he could possibly muster, and you loved him, gutted over the fact that he possibly only thought of you as a spoiled little brat who was useless and incompetent, as a client, and you wanting to be more than just that to him… except you were. for kento had already fallen over his knees for you.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, BRATTY AFFF RICH GIRL SPOILED READER she’s a little baddie o yes, LOWKEEEYYY brat tamer kento MEEOOOWWW, FLUUFFF GALLOOREE!!, slight angst!!, kento is SOOO SOOFTTT AND A LIL GENTLEMAANN, blowjob YUM, oral m receiving, mentions of doing the sex, deep throating, SEDUCTIVE AF READER BRO, cursing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, sexual themes, kento is older than reader by three years, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)
word count: 20.3k (i yap i fear)
authors note: I NEED A FUCKING MAN !!!! LIKE KENTO !!! RAAAAHDVSJSBSJSJ this BEAUTIFUL precious concept was a blend and mixy of multiple requests i got for sir nanami blended into one!! :,)) i hope i did you guys justice to those who requested and sent in ideas my loves !!! <3333 AND I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE ITTT JUST AS MUCH AS I DOOO AAHHH !!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO SO SOOO MUCHHH MWAAHHH !! <3333
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“please don’t do that.”
you were undoubtedly the most defiant, stubborn girl kento had ever met.
“and why not?” you pouted. “it’s just for a little bit… and i can’t leave my friend hanging when she’s dealing with such a crisis! she needs my help.”
“your help.” kento repeated. “she needs your help going to a party…. at one in the morning.”
“it’s not a party it’s a small gathering—”
“y/n the hour is ungodly right now…” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “i don’t believe this is very wise.”
you finished applying your blush and stepped back from your large vanity, quickly placing your brush back in it’s holder and grabbing your bottle of perfume, spritzing it.
“it’s fine ken!” you looked up and smiled. “i’ll just be gone for a little while i’ll be back before—”
“i’m sorry—” he held a palm up. “you’ll just be gone? darling, you realize i have to go with you.”
“but whyyy?” you mumbled, slouching dramatically and chucking your perfume bottle on your bed. “two hours! just give me two hours i promise i’ll be back—”
“i’m afraid not.”
“whyyyy!” you whined again, and kento only looked at you with a straight stoic face.
“because it’s my job to go with you and you know that.”
and you’d always been defiant and stubborn, kento having known you since you were a little girl as both his and your father were family friends for years, your upbringing a little different from his as your father was exponentially wealthy and owned various companies and properties, his parents just so happening to work for him and gain special bonds and camaraderie over the time of your growing lives.
though kento was only three years older than you— the gap nothing notable or too drastic, it sure as hell felt like it with how bratty and rebellious you were sometimes on a day to day basis that he had to bare witness of since the age of fourteen.
so why kento thought of you so much when you were the epitome of a spoiled princess… was a little unclear to him.
or maybe he did know exactly why— the reasoning transparently clear, to a fucking T actually… yet his pride and the oath he had set with your father the minute kento started pursuing his desired career after high school, hindered him from ever admitting anything to anyone. especially you.
and because he constantly ignored the way he felt, he was regrettably perplexed every time he was around you— which was literally every single second of every waking day since the moment he received his protection licensing… for kento was your bodyguard, hired by your father who saw his interests in technical protection training, and trusted no other man around his daughter other than kento himself, encouraging him to pursue it as a career in the promise that he would guarantee him a position— one with a pay that would have him set for the rest of his life so long as his precious little daughter was happy and safe.
and kento took the offer without so even as a twitch in his serious expression for two reasons.
the first was the obvious, to solidify proper employment for himself in the career that he’d always paid particular interest in ever since he was a kid— to make a man out of himself and work under prestigious and professional levels of security with someone, your father, who’s orders of authority were equivalent to a president, and a man he admired like no other and dreamed of owning a business that was as fruitful as his.
and the other… was to keep an eye on you.
you were reckless, bratty, naive, troublesome, silly, and never took absolutely anything seriously— all things that worried kento to no end anytime you so even managed to slip from his sharp attentive line of sight since the both of you were young.
and you escaping him happened a little more often than he’d like to admit.
like now.
“y/n—”
kento sharply turned upon hearing your snickering little giggles zooming past him and trailing from down the hall already, him swiftly retrieving his blazer that he had previously set on one of your lounge chairs and settling it over his arm, long and hasty steps striding out of your bedroom and down the hall, him peaking in several dark open doors and hallways of your ginormous mansion of a home on his way— the clicking of your heels and you still giggling serving as a guide for him to find you.
he sighed.
“darling, this isn’t going to change the fact that i still have to accompany you—”
kento rounded the corner and entered one of the many lounge area rooms your father used for business meetings and partnerships, your little head poking out from behind one of the large sofas with a disgruntled pouty look.
“says who?”
“says me.” he took the blazer from his arm and extended it, shaking it out a little and preparing to put it on. “and your father.”
you let out a tiny grumble, getting up off your knees and standing.
“but don’t you wanna go to sleep ken?”
“very much so.”
“so then go! i’m giving you permission heh!” you chirped, sending him a striking smile. “i won’t tell my father! or anyone! you deserve a good nights rest—”
“i’m going with you and that’s final.”
you threw your head back and groaned in frustration, kento finding your tantrum a little amusing as he chuckled and shrugged on his blazer.
“you want to go to this event, yes?”
you funnily slugged on over to his side with dragging steps, eyes to the floor. 
“mhm…”
“so then enough fighting and let’s go.” he stepped to the side and gently ushered you forward. “i’d like to be back before your father wakes up.”
you walked forward and out of the lounge room, the both of you beginning your journey down the hall and towards the grand staircase, kento following behind you as you still internally huffed and puffed about him coming along.
your refutes to kento joining you weren’t because you didn’t like him or anything like that… it was quite the opposite actually.
you were obsessed with that man.
“you scare my friends you know…”
the side of his lip quirked.
“do i?”
“mhm.”
“how so sweetheart?”
“i think it’s your face.” you turned your head around and looked behind you as you walked, hands wringing behind your back with a cute grin. “it’s so serious. and it might be because you’re always staring them down whenever they hang out with me.”
kento calmly walked ahead of you and stepped down a few steps, his hand automatically coming up to assist you and you taking it as you carefully descended down the steps, a gentle act he always did for you.
he pursed his lips. 
“i’m simply doing my job… but i suppose i could lay off a bit.”
you giggled. “no it’s okay ken! i agree. they just don’t know you like i do.”
ever since you practically met him you were obsessed— him being the most poised and respectful piece of hunk to ever grace your life, as kento was so unbelievably different from all of the other straight up boys in your life that deemed themselves to be men, when in reality they didn’t even come close to that whatsoever.
kento nanami was the definition of a man.
and out of everything that you’ve ever received on a silver platter with zero hesitation since technically birth… you wanted him the most.
except you were convinced he wasn’t obsessed with you like you were with him.
because the second kento became your bodyguard at the age of literal nineteen, there wasn’t ever a moment that you remember where he wasn’t with you and pulled to your side like a magnet— guarding and watching your every move and making sure that you were out of harms way no matter what, all things that were automatic and essentially part of the job description.
but you feared that it was just that.
that kento didn’t view you the way you viewed him… that you were just a client to him and that the reason he was always around was because he had to be, and not because he wanted to.
you feared that kento only saw you as some helpless spoiled girl who couldn’t do anything for herself and therefore always needed guidance, and you also feared that because he’d known you since you were little and became your bodyguard when you were sixteen, that he still saw you as a sixteen year old and not the full grown woman that you were now.
the thought was mortifying to you.
and you wondered if kento had ever thought about you as something more than just— a client? maybe.. maybe as a lover?
did he at least view you as a friend?
but more importantly, if he wasn’t your bodyguard… would he stay? 
kento assisted you down to the very last step as you shook away your thoughts, the both of you making your way out through the front glass double doors and over to his car in the open driveway, a sleek and shiny black luxury SUV that you always preferred to sit in rather than your own vehicle as his little passenger princess— always and forever and at times putting up a fight when your father would make you drive instead of kento, spouting some nonsense about how he didn’t want you to forget how to drive and become an incompetent girl.
and you’d each time just scoff and roll your eyes— your father always looking for ways to jab scoldings at you and fuss over every choice you’d make regardless of how big or small it was, believing you to be an incompetent girl anyways and you choosing to ignore him and scowl as you moved behind kento’s big buff frame to hide, him knowing to take over and speak for you whenever you did, as your father listened to him better than he did you ever since you were young.
kento in a way also scolded you often and fussed over your choices… but he was gentle. never raising his voice at you or overstepping any boundaries that made you feel like you were stupid and incapable of things, him always giving you the chance to fix it or refute with an open mind and heart to hear you out… and you loved kento. that was a given.
and your dramatic self deemed that the day kento yelled at you for the first time for whatever reason— was the day that you died.
kento smoothly smiled over what you said with closed lips and opened the car door for you, you getting in and pinching the skirt of your flowy mesh dress to readjust once you were seated, straightening it up over your legs as he rounded over and got in the drivers seat.
“i know a way you can lay off a bit so you don’t scare off my friends tonight ken!”
he started the engine and flickered on the high beams, your eyes squinting at the sudden brightness ahead of you.
“and that is..?”
you grinned and leaned over the center console, placing your elbow on it and propping your chin up with your palm, him looking at you expectantly.
so handsome.
“why don’t you stare at me instead of staring at them!”
kento breathed in as he looked away, steering around and out of the driveway while your close proximity and sweet expensive perfume wafted all around him— filling up his every system with everything that was wonderfully you as he tried hard not to let it show.
“i believe i already do just that.” he spoke. “it’s my job to watch you darling.”
“okay then watch me harder.”
he blinked, your wording somehow twinging a sense of provocativeness when it wasn’t anything like that at all, and he wanted to wash his brain out with holy water for thinking of something inappropriate like that with you.
but you leaned even closer, lips by his ear as he turned the steering wheel to make an easy left.
“you’re supposed to have eyes only for me right?”
kento swallowed.
“i’m supposed to have eyes everywhere.”
you playfully rolled your eyes and leaned back a bit. “okay… but maybe for tonight, just me!”
“i’m afraid if it’s just you i won’t be able to watch for any other signs of abnormality—”
“oh my god booo!” you huffed and plopped back down in your seat, arms crossing as you stared ahead. “you’re no fun…”
kento chuckled and lifted his arm, patting your head and you blushing before he placed his hand back on the gear shift, the only thing on your mind now was how much you wanted to stuff his big fingers in your mouth—
“the event is still the one on melrose street, correct?”
your eyes snapped in his direction. “huh? oh yes! yes it is.”
he pursed his lips, an uncertain look on his face as you faltered and furrowed your brows.
“what ken? what’s wrong?”
“is it the same host and organization as last time?”
“umm…” you pulled your phone out from your purse and scrolled to the initial invite you had received through a friend, perfectly manicured nails tapping away. “uh huh! i’m pretty sure… how come?”
“i don’t think it’d be very wise to go… you got extremely inebriated the last time we went.”
you snorted and waved him off. “that’s because it was my friends birthday ken. i was celebrating!”
“you barfed in a bush as soon as we got home.”
“part of the experience!”
kento shook his head and sighed through his nose, a small smile on his face as he peaked over at you from the side.
“rowdy little girl.”
little girl.
and you felt an unpleasant tug at your heart, you pursing your lips and wanting to defy what he called you.
“i was fine after though, was i not?”
you suddenly grabbed his hand and dropped it down on your exposed thigh, his rough hand making contact with your skin as he accidentally jerked the steering wheel and looked at you with bewildered eyes, you only throwing your head back and laughing.
“what?” you spoke in between giggles. “i’m cold! and your hand’s so warm—”
“honey—”
“your job is to take care of me right?” you sweetly smiled, and he felt a flutter of familiar yet confusing affection swirl up in his chest at the sight. “and you’re doing just that!”
kento cleared his throat and nodded, hand staying on your thigh and you giddy on the inside as he held it.
“just know that i have a blanket in the back in case my hand doesn’t suffice.” he mentioned, pulling up to a gated community. “the weather is a bit colder these days.”
your eyes softened, staring at the side of his chiseled jaw and face as he exchanged a few words with the security guard at the front, flashing his ID before the guard gave him the all clear and muttered something over his walkie talkie, the gates slowing sliding open as a result.
“why do you have a blanket in the back ken?” you asked softly and looked down, the tip of your index finger tracing over the prominent veins on the back of his hand.
“for you.” he replied. “you get cold frequently.”
you grinned.
“awww you remembered!—”
you unbuckled your seatbelt, jumped up from your seat, and flung your arms around his neck and practically stuffed his cheek up against your chest as you gushed, kento’s eyes blinking wide eyed and cheeks fucking flaring as he tried to keep steady hands on the wheel and not swerve into the garbage bins in front of the designated mansion, music already blaring through and seeping through the vents of the car as he fumbled to shift the gear into park— stiffening the hell out of his neck and not daring to turn his head even the slightest in your direction in fear of facing your breasts head on.
“i— i appreciate the sentiment sweetheart—”
you pulled back a tiny bit, your arms still tightly locked around his neck but giving him enough space to turn his head to look up at you now, your twinkling hyper eyes shining even through the darkness of the car, kento almost forgetting about the close proximity between the two of you entirely, and also almost forgetting about how this was— regrettably… considered to be inappropriate.
he was your bodyguard, he was supposed to protect you, not think about the way your perfect smile right now was so incredibly soul crushing and doing it in just the right way too— suffocating his entire being as he tried hard again, in real time, to kick those disrespectful thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on what he was meant to be doing and thinking… all of which pertained to his guidance for you, and your safety, most of all.
but you were beautiful. 
there was no denying that.
“you know me best out of anyone ken.”
and he did. he truly truly did.
but to kento, you were that forbidden fruit, cast away up into the highest of branches and dangling off of the tallest most unreachable tree of all— glimmering against the sun, magnificent… waiting to be picked by the person who dared to and claim it as their own without a single worry of the troubles that came with ravishing it.
but claiming and ravishing that forbidden fruit definitely came with it’s dire consequences, and kento nanami was an honorable man. 
if he were to give in to his pulsing desires for you, desires that he couldn’t even exactly make sense of as he continued to manifest total and utter blockage in his mind to prevent those thoughts from seeping through, not only would he deal with the embarrassing repercussions with your father— his boss, but inevitably drag you down with him too, as he knew your father has always been rather harsh with you.
and you didn’t deserve to be dragged down just because he couldn’t control his emotions.
you frowned, tilting your head as you assessed kento’s strange far off look.
“ken?” you asked. “kenny ken?”
“eh?” he blinked rapidly. “oh i’m sorry y/n. i was… thinking.”
“thinking?” 
you let him go and sat back in your seat, the warmth from your arms dissipating and the goosebumps around his neck prominent now by the chilliness of the car.
“thinking about what?” you quipped, smiling again. “about meee?”
night and day.
“i’m afraid not.” he switched off the ignition and held the keys in his hand. “more about how you should be at home and in��bed and most definitely not here.”
you pouted, slumping in your seat as you watched him get out of the car and walk over to your side, opening your door for you and offering a hand for you to take.
“but ken i’m helping a friend.” you took his hand and carefully stepped out, him closing the door behind you as you began walking up the sidewalk with kento following close behind you, the car beeping and flashing its lights to signify he had locked it.
“honey, your friend is a grown woman.” you both walked up the steps and continued down the long wide driveway, other guests traveling alongside you towards the mansion. “she doesn’t need moral support from you to attend an event.”
“yeah and i don’t need a bodyguard for every little thing i do, do i?” you countered, slowing down your steps a little and nudging your shoulder with his. “hm?”
he gave you a deadpanned look.
“actually, you do.”
you scoffed. “no i do not.”
the two of you entered through the grand entrance— doors already open and with a set of security guards on each side as you passed them, kento’s already alert senses amplified now that you both were in an unpredictable loud environment such as this, and with way too many people for kento to keep track of besides yourself as he scanned the area, ticking the usual and automatic tiny boxes in his head that indicated the area was alright for the time being.
“if my friend is such a grown woman, then so am i!” you yelled over the music as you walked through the mansion to get to the pool area outside, passing by several caterers and butlers with small appetizer dishes on silver trays or champagne glasses, you taking one as your gaze switched between person to person to see if you could try and find anyone you recognized.
kento shook his head a little.
contrary to your popular belief, you never acted like a grown woman sometimes— constantly rebellious and spontaneous with no hesitations to do anything remotely reckless… and that worried him to absolutely no end as he was living in constant stress over something happening to you— something that he could easily prevent and steer you away from because that’s what he was fucking there for.
but you were always against it, and he didn’t know why when it was simply just protection.
upon entering the pool area, your eyes lit up at the rowdy scene before you— party guests jumping into the pool in full fledged clothing or throwing each other in, the bar at the end of the backyard lively and busy with multiple individuals already drunk off of their minds as they clumsily passed by you and nearly tumbled you over, kento each time quick to grab your shoulders and gently pull you away so they’d just about miss you and continue on.
and the minute he caught sight of your group of friends off to the side of the bubbling jacuzzi right before you did, every single one of them already inebriated and rambunctious, he knew he was in for a night of chasing you around and getting you to sober up a little to refrain yourself from running across the lawn in only your undergarments like the last party you both attended.
“y/n! hi!” one of your friends slightly slurred, the one with the ‘crisis’, reaching behind her to grab a red solo cup of god knows what and passing it to you. “here! i just got some from the kitchen!”
“what is it?” you laughed, on the verge of placing the brim to your lips when kento suddenly nudged you, gently prying it away from your fingers and lifting it up to his nose for inspection, you playfully rolling your eyes as you turned back to your friend.
“dunno!” she shrugged, flashing you a wobbly grin. “it’s a mix of tequila aaanddd… cranberry tonic! yeah!”
“smells awfully strong.” kento muttered in your ear, passing the cup back to you. “just moderate your intake.”
“okay dad.” you mocked, the little side smile on your face never failing to deactivate any further scoldings from him about how you shouldn’t drink that mix and maybe get something else, him deciding to just let you have fun regardless of the work he was about to be put through… as it was hard for kento to say no to you at times anyways.
you brought the rim back to your lips and took a sip, your face immediately scrunching up and gagging.
“the fuck is this?” you placed a hand over your mouth. “tastes nothing like cranberry and just straight vodka—”
you ended up drinking the entire cup and two more fills after that, kento each time gently advising you not to and that you’d had enough, but you only pouting and bratty and defying him with every attempt he made at pulling the drink away from you, a water bottle in hand that he’d snagged from one of the coolers as he swiftly moved through the twists and turns of the crowd to stay caught up with you, a skill he was an expert at at this point considering how often you disappeared from his line of sight.
“sweetheart please—” kento caught you by the waist just as you were about to literally jump in the pool, you giggling and hiccuping as he dragged you away. “let’s take a seat for a moment alright? you need to drink water.” 
“what i need is a teeny weeny kiss from you ken!”
he faltered, eyes dropping to the ground as he continued to half drag and half carry your body to a nearby table away from the commotion by the pool, setting you down on a chair.
“you need water.” he pushed as he knelt down on a knee in front of you, unscrewing the cap. “and i’m forbidding you from attending any events like this for a month.”
“a month?!” you whined, head dramatically falling back in desperation. “but why? what did i do?!”
“i told you to moderate your intake.” he gently grabbed your jaw and brought the water bottle to your lips, carefully holding it up for you to drink. “you were just about to jump in the pool darling and ruin your dress.”
lowering the bottle, your cheeks cutely puffed up with water as you shook your head side to side.
you swallowed. “lies. i was simply walking!”
he fixed the strap of your dress that was halfway sliding off, pulling it back over your shoulder.
“yes into the pool.” he brought the water bottle back to your lips and you drank some more before he lowered it again. “you need to be more careful y/n.”
you pouted. “are you mad at me ken?”
“not mad just quite stressed—”
“pull my dress up and spank me then.”
kento slapped a hand over his eyes and shook his head, cheeks buzzing pink at your ludicrous statement.
“don’t say things like that honey.”
“and why not?” you tilted your head, pearly white teeth glimmering against the warm lights of the backyard as he dropped his hand. “thought you loved me.”
“please sober up.” he breathed out exhaustedly, heart hammering against his fucking chest as he made you drink water again. “before you say something silly again—”
you abruptly pulled back and a few droplets of water dribbled down your chin, kento quick to grab the handkerchief in his suit to pat you dry as you narrowed your eyes.
“you think loving me is silly?” you muttered, a little slur at the end of your sentence.
“of course not darling.” he spoke softly, placing the handkerchief down on the table behind you. “the other thing you said was silly—”
“what— spanking me?” you lit up again. “but it’s hot. and i want it. you should do it once we get to the car—”
kento slapped a hand over your mouth this time, wide frantic eyes looking around to see if anyone had heard your loud lewd blabbering, his face absolutely fucking red at this point as he tried not to vividly imagine what you had just said… and pathetically failing at it too.
“enough. we’re going home. you have brunch with the monroe’s tomorrow.”
“nuh uh!”
you pulled his hand away from your mouth and gripped the edges of your chair, trying to cement yourself to it as he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled and tugged, you laughing when he’d manage to of course— lift you up… but the chair along with it as well.
“let go please.”
“nope!”
“i said let go y/n.”
“if you give me a kiss!”
kento put you back down and sighed.
“you are unbelievably inebriated.”
“and you are unbelievably handsome.” you cheesed as you got closer, your nose brushing against his and kento’s breath catching in his throat, stiffening up.
“darling you don’t know what you’re saying—”
“yes i do.” you spoke, endearingly nudging your nose softly with his and kento’s eyes warming at the act. “you’re gods favorite.”
hopeless hopeless girl…
his eyes sinfully flickered down to your pretty lips, plushy and delightful as they perfectly stretched in such a way to form a striking smile that always sent men to their knees wherever you both went, him baring witness to it all as your bodyguard… and him included— falling to his knees over you.
for kento was just as hopeless as you.
but he was better at ignoring it until it became this puzzling blur in his brain that confused the ever living shit out of him.
“let’s go home.”
his breath fanned against your lips and you softly shook your head.
“kiss me then we’ll go.”
kento’s forehead fell against yours, eyes closing in borderline pain as his big hands came up to cup your cheeks, your own eyes loopily widening with overactive exciting thoughts over what was about to transpire.
if he was about to kiss you… could this mean he didn’t view you as just a client? as a little girl? but a woman?
was he considering it? did you have a chance? was he actually about to fucking kiss you?—
kento sharply breathed in and turned your head slightly to the side, planting his lips hard on your cheek and him unmoving for a moment, you still wide eyed and shocked as your cheek mushed up against the force of his mouth.
he pulled back with a smack! and stood, hand extending out for you to take.
“ready now?”
your fingers slowly came up to the side of your face in a complete daze, because though it wasn’t a full blown kiss, the linger of his lips was still there even after the gesture was long over, your little cheek tingling and warm.
you nodded, taking his hand and attempting to stand but reeling over as you did, your head in complete drunken disarray as kento’s arms quickly shot out and caught you from falling face first on the ground.
“i can’t—” you giggled, hiccuping between each laugh. “i can’t walk ken. and my feet hurt.”
“i’m aware.” he sighed, sitting you back down on the chair and kneeling again, grabbing your ankle.
“what are you doing?” you asked, watching the way he propped up your foot and tugged at the clasp on your heels, carefully sliding it off and beginning to do the same with the other.
“you’re in pain, yes?” he slipped your other heel off and stood, placing your heels on a nearby table before positioning himself next to you, sliding a hand under your knees. “put your arms around my neck sweetheart.”
you did as told, your little heart singing happy drunken tunes over him being such a gentleman and taking care of you in the way that he was, you knowing in the morning you’d regret it and be embarrassed, but choosing to bask in the moment for the meantime and deal with the horrific hungover consequences later.
kento easily lifted you with only one fucking arm supporting you under your knees as you held on, his other hand grabbing your heels before weaving through the other tables and venturing out of the pool area, everybody else too inebriated to care or notice some big bulky man carrying you out through the backyard and inside the mansion, your head resting against his chest.
“are you alright?” he asked, taking a quick glance down at you as he reached the grand entrance to exit. “do you feel ill?”
“no i’m okay.” you smiled. “just thinking about the fact that you’re a cheater.”
he chuckled. “a cheater? in what way?”
kento carefully stepped down the steps and began his walk across the spacious lawn back to the car, you tightening your grip on his neck and wanting him to hold you like this forever.
“the deal was for a kiss.”
“and i gave you one.” he softly smiled, squeezing your thigh a little in emphasis.
“on the cheek!” you retorted. “i wanted one on the mouth.”
kento blushed furiously and looked away, trying to straighten himself up as he walked down the sidewalk with you in his arms.
“you didn’t specify darling.”
“yeaahhh right.” you mumbled, watching the lights of his car flash up ahead as it unlocked by the click of kento’s keys, him coming up to the passenger side and opening the door. “just say you’re repulsed by me.”
he scoffed. “you’re saying silly things again.”
“the proof is in the pudding.”
kento carefully bent and set you down on your seat, placing your heels next to you on the floor and straightening out the skirt of your dress for you. 
“the proof is that you’re drunk. i’m not making any moves like that when you’re not in the correct state of mind.”
you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth. “are you saying you would have? if i was sober? did you bring my water with you? i need to drink it right now where is it—”
“dear god i did not say that.” he closed the door and came round to the other side, an amused little smile on his lips as he got in. “and i’m sorry but i left it behind.”
“kentooo!” you whined. “now how else are you supposed to kiss me?”
he shakily pressed the ‘on’ button for the ignition and looked away, your bold words and requests and moves serving as sheer torment to him as they one after the other kept being thrown at his face, him aware this is how you usually were anyways, but ten times unbelievably worse now that you were intoxicated.
and kento was growing weaker.
“i’m not supposed to do anything.” he backed out of the parking space and sped off. “and it’s nearly four in the morning y/n. you have brunch with the monroe’s at ten and you’re supposed to be up by eight.”
you groaned, head dropping back against the headrest as you crossed your arms. 
“i never wanted to go to that in the first place.” you muttered. “the monroe’s and their girl friends and whoever else is going are a bunch of boring bitches. all they talk about is what their daddies just bought them.”
the yearly monroe brunch was a way for you and the other daughters of your fathers various business partners to bond and maintain connections, some sort of peace treaty between them all so long as their little preppy daughters were kept satisfied and spoiled, your father forcing you to go every year and demanding you to keep friendships with them all, insisting that it would serve beneficial to him with their parents and help nourish the business even more than it already was.
you genuinely liked the monroe daughters and the rest of the girls at first, sixteen year old you seeking their validation and acceptance for years and constantly following after every little thing that they did, afraid of slipping up and landing in their rotten graces as soon as you did anything that would upset them… until they started badmouthing kento.
after that you didn’t give a fuck. 
because anyone that was so willing as to talk bad about such a respectful and kind man as kento to you, was someone who immediately feel in your rotten graces, each and every one of them doing so the minute they started calling him weird for constantly following you around, putting him down for it and saying he should find something better to do than be your bodyguard, and that you didn’t need such high class protection and deeming it unnecessary.
whether they were jealous of the fact that you had a bodyguard and they didn’t was mystery to you, but ever since that day, you despised the yearly monroe brunch, you now aware of who they truly were and realized how blind you were to it just because you were seeking their validation— wanting nothing to do with them from that point forward and begging your father to just let you skip out and that they were better off without you there anyways.
but he never listened.
kento laughed, nodding curtly over what you said. “although true, you still have to go honey.”
“i don’t know why my father can’t just piss off.” you sighed and looked out the window, cars zooming past you as he drove down the freeway. “i really don’t see the point in me going.”
“you’re an important asset.” he spoke. “all of the daughters coming together is tradition.”
“what— to sit there and drink tea and eat muffins? stupidest tradition i’ve ever heard ken.”
he chuckled, reaching over to pat your thigh and your cheeks going pinky as he did so, your drunken mind still somehow clearly recalling when he had his warm hand on you earlier in the car prior to the party.
he went to retract his hand and you quickly stopped him, timidly placing it back on your thigh and settling your hand over his big one, the both of you nervously avoiding eye contact and choosing not to say anything.
kento understood wholeheartedly why you hated going to the monroe brunch so much, for he wasn’t particularly a fan of hearing them talk for hours about who’d they just dumped or what they’d just bought, and he sympathized with you— really, your father although a man he admired for his work ethic and sought after for his approval, was unrighteously stoic with you and always dismissed your thoughts and opinions, the fact saddening kento whenever he witnessed it first hand.
“you’ll be alright.” he spoke up quietly again, noticing the way you were dozing off a little in your seat. “it’s just for brunch. you won’t have to worry about seeing them again until next year.”
“you mean until the dinner party we’re hosting next week.” you sleepily muttered, eyes closed as both of your hands laid over his that was on your thigh, holding it almost as if you were afraid that kento would pull away, his eyes softening at the thought.
“ah, that’s right.” he pulled into your gated community, the security guard already recognizing kento and his car as he merely waved and pressed the button to open the gate, driving through once it did entirely. “i had forgotten.”
“mmm..” you hummed, and he smiled, facing the road again and turning the wheel with every curve and turn of your neighborhood, your dimly lit mansion coming into view eventually and him pulling up to park in your grandiose driveway next to you car, turning off the ignition.
you laid still and pretty in your seat, chest slowly rising and falling as you softly breathed through your nose, you in a drunken slumber as kento quietly got out of the car and went over to your side, opening your door.
“darling.” he whispered, shuffling an arm under your knees and the other on your back. “i need to carry you up, okay? hold onto me please.”
you mumbled incoherently and did so, your arms limply wrapping around his neck as he carried you out of the car and shut the door with a push from his leg, locking his car and the little horn going off again as he hoisted you up, walking up the stone path of your driveway and up to the grand double doors— one of your housekeeping staff already there holding the door open for you both, them also used to your late night partying and shenanigans.
“thank you.” he whispered gratefully as he passed, and they nodded, locking up the house behind you as kento continued on up the staircase and down the spacious hallway, his dress shoes clicking against the shiny flooring and echoing across the silence as he reached your bedroom.
he carefully set you down on your bed once inside, you groggily rubbing your eyes as he stepped back and over to your large vanity, rummaging through your things and drawers while knocking a few nail polishes and perfumes over— various clatterings and kento cursing under his breath over the noise, it making you sleepily giggle.
“what are you looking for ken?” you whispered, one of your eyes tiredly peeking open.
“your— ah… i’m afraid i can’t remember what it’s called—”
he gestured to his face. “you remove your makeup with it sweetheart.”
you closed your eye again. “oh my wipes..? they’re in the bottom drawer to your left.”
he opened the corresponding drawer and reached in, taking out your makeup remover wipes and walking back over to you, peeling open the packing and sliding an individual white wipe out, you lifting a hand out to grab it but stopping once he moved it away from you.
you drowsily looked up at him, about to speak until he took your chin in between his fingers and tilted you up, him bending a bit and lifting his hand to wipe off your makeup, delicately removing it with precision as you tiredly let a small smile grow on your lips.
“i can do it ken it’s okay.”
he shook his head, you closing your eyes as he wiped off your mascara. “oh it’s alright you’re exhausted… and i’ve seen you do it quite a few times.”
you peaked your other eye open, his handsome face so unforgettable against the moonlight streaming through your balcony doors that your little sleepy heart started gushing over literally just who he was, your head leaning into his touch.
“kay…”
he finished wiping the rest of it off after a minute, tossing it into your little bin under your vanity desk before walking over to your walk-in closet and disappearing for a few moments, coming back out with one of your silk baby blue pajama sets in hand, offering it out to you.
“change please.” you sluggishly took the set from him and nodded. “i’ll be just outside—”
“no it’s okay.” you stood and reached for the hem of your dress. “you can stay—”
you pulled up your dress with no fucks given and kento’s eyes bulged open, immediately slapping a hand over his eyes and spinning around with his heart thumping on overdrive, the image of your perfect body adorned with a lacy white bra and panties a hard one to try and— unfortunately— forget for the sake of respecting your privacy and the most intimate parts of yourself.
you giggled and kento shook his head in desperation, placing a hand on his hip.
“don’t do things like that honey.” he scolded gently, a hand still over his eyes as you changed. “at least wait until i avert my attention—”
“you don’t wanna see?” you pouted, finishing by buttoning up your top and tugging at the sleeve of his suit for him to turn around. “it’s all for you ken.”
for— for—
oh dear god help him.
“it’s time to sleep.” he reached around you and pulled back the covers of your bed, you whining. “come on you have brunch with the monroe’s—”
you grumbled and climbed on, dropping yourself on the mattress and shuffling under your various fluffy blankets and sheets, him helping you in pulling them over you until they were settled comfortably by your chest.
“kento.”
“hm?” he hummed, still fiddling with your blankets and basically tucking you in, you finding it incredibly sweet.
“thank you for always taking care of me.”
he stopped, eyes flickering to yours before a soft close lipped smile spread across his face.
“of course darling.” he patted your head. “it’s what i’m here for.”
you knew what he was actually supposed to be there for was only for your protection— to only clock in when you went to events and clock out the second said event was over and done with and you were back home safe and sound.
except kento clocked in the moment your eyes opened for the day, and clocked out as soon as they closed again at night, him by your side through everything in your life and not just for special events, but making sure you had had enough to eat and that you weren’t sick after you spent the day out without a jacket (much to his pestering), that you finished your homework when you were in school and helped you with it as best as he could, and that he was your shoulder to cry on whenever your father yelled at you over something idiotic again— all in all taking care of you like you thought a lover would do for their most treasured thing.
and you hoped you were kento’s most treasured thing.
he was yours, after all.
“i like when you call me darling.” you murmured softly. “and honey. and sweetheart.”
kento swallowed and blushed, thankful that it was sort of dark in your room and that you couldn’t see how pink in the face he actually was over something so minimal.
“i’m glad.” he replied. “you’d let me know if it ever makes you uncomfortable correct?”
you quickly shook your head. “it never makes me uncomfortable ken… ever.”
he nodded, smiling in satisfaction.
“you know what does make me uncomfortable?”
he faltered, brows furrowing in concern.
“what honey?”
“the fact that you still haven’t kissed me on the lips—”
he sharply breathed in and leaned back to stand upright, you giggling and protesting as you flung your arms around his neck before he could, bringing him roughly back down to you and basically pulling him on top of you as kento let out a little oof at the force.
he planted his palms flat on your mattress, trying to lift himself up a bit but unable to due to the astronomical grip you had on him.
“y/n i’m crushing you let me—”
“so?”
“you won’t be able to properly breathe—”
“and? this is the way to go!”
kento laughed into your neck then, managing to lift himself up at least a little bit  to look at you.
“silly girl.” he murmured, and you grinned.
how stunning.
his eyes dangerously switched to your lips, and you noticed this, your heart skipping a small beat in your chest.
“ken.”
“yes?”
“what do you view me as.”
his gaze shifted and locked with yours, his brows pinching together.
“what do you mean honey?”
“like—” you pursed your lips, looking away to the side in embarrassment. “do you see me as just… a client? or just a friend? or like a little girl who doesn’t know how to do anything? or spoiled?”
“a client?” he repeated. “not at all that’s— an awfully wrong term for what you are.”
your head snapped in his direction.
“really?”
he sat up, sitting himself down on the edge of your bed next to you and you scooching over.
“you are spoiled.” he continued, chuckling once he saw the hopeful expression on your face fall and turn sour. “but it doesn’t mean that you’re incapable of doing things… i’ve never once thought of you as such.”
you hummed in acknowledgement, relieved a little.
“do you see me as a woman?” you asked softly.
he looked at you confusedly.
“well— of course. that’s what you are, aren’t you?”
“no i mean—” you sighed, struggling to get the words out as a blush rose to your cheeks. “like a woman. like the kind that makes you want to…”
you faltered, and he waited patiently for you to continue.
“like the kind of woman you’d want to kiss and things… like— like the kind you’d see yourself falling in love with… or am i just— a friend?”
kento froze.
were you still drunk?
“sweetheart it’s not wise to talk about things like this when you’re inebriated please rest—”
“i’m not!” you frantically shook your head. “i sobered up a long time ago…”
dear god.
he can’t answer your question. he can’t answer your question without straight up lying to you just so he can keep that boundary of respect he had for you and your father, to keep the vow kento had with him as your protector, as your guide…
but kento nanami wasn’t a liar.
and kento nanami loved you— a feeling he had idiotically mistaken for confusion when it was actually the plain and utter truth, for what he felt for you was clearer than anything else in his life, and absolutely nothing about it was ever confusing like he swore up and down before that it was.
he’d known…. he’d always known. and that’s perhaps why he took the bodyguard position in the first place without a fret to your father.
to stay by your side. 
to make sure you were safe… with him.
but did he dare?… did he dare to take the pretty forbidden fruit he had tried so hard for years to stay clear from? to leave it glimmering and healthy to flourish on its own no matter how badly he wanted to harvest it and claim for himself?
“i—”
he hesitated, your beady doe eyes looking at him so hopefully that it clenched his heart without mercy.
“i love you…” he spoke softly. “but i don’t think you being with me would do you justice.”
you blinked, unsure if you should take that positively or negatively—
“but i love you still… you know that.”
you looked at him.
“but love in what way?” you responded.
because love you in the way of a friend or family member sure, and you knew kento did at least that much and wouldn’t have spent so much time with you since the ages of eleven and fourteen if otherwise.
but did he love you?
“love… in the way that makes me want to kiss you.” he tugged at the watch on his wrist, referencing to what you had said before. “and love in the way that makes me want to give everything i have to you honey.”
because he has. he’s been.
“really?” you whispered, the wind completely knocked out of your lungs as he picked up his head to look at you, nodding.
kento opened his arms out for you then and you slowly pushed the covers off of you, crawling over and extending your arms to wrap around his abdomen, his around your shoulders while you tucked your face into his chest.
“but i don’t think you being with me would do you justice my love…” he repeated, and you frowned, already feeling your bottom lip wobble.
“why?”
“i have too much respect for you and your father.” he explained, caressing your hair through his fingers. “and i feel that i’m taking advantage of my position by being with you always… that i’m not giving you a chance to know what it’s like to be with someone else—”
“i don’t want anyone else.” you cut him off. “i don’t need to explore to figure that out ken.”
you looked up at him, cheek mushed up against him. “you’re with me always too… do you need a chance to know what it’s like to be with someone else?”
“no.” he shook his head. “no i absolutely do not.”
you giggled softly. “see? then why would i need one?”
he stared down at you softly, a warm smile that could kill millions if he so let it on his face, and you blushed. 
“i guess you’re right sweetheart.”
kento continued to run his big fingers through your hair, you dozing off a little at the soothing feeling.
“i don’t think your father will be very happy knowing i love you.”
you grumbled. “who cares what that old fart thinks—”
he snorted, lightly tapping your shoulder in a form of scolding, you laughing and holding him tighter.
“he doesn’t have to know for now…” you murmured. “and honestly i didn’t even know you loved me so i think we’re okay—”
“i’m sorry?” he blinked. “i thought i made it somewhat… clear?”
“no!” you countered. “you rejected every move i made ken… you had me basically begging for you.”
his brows pinched in guilt. “i’m sorry my love… i was doing it more for you than for me i— … i didn’t have any ill intent behind it.”
“it’s okay ken.” you smiled cutely, pulling back and propping yourself up by your palms on your mattress, leaning and planting a sweet kiss to his cheek. “though you could’ve just told me you had a begging kink i would’ve understood and begged you to put your fingers in my—”
kento’s eyes widened and he shut you up with a hand over your mouth, your muffled giggles seeping through as he shook his head.
“you have the most vulgar mouth.”
you took his wrist and brought it away, your lips coming next to his ear.
“do something about it then.”
he stilled.
“or do you want me to say what other things i want you to do to me?”
“enough you need to rest—” he placed his hands on your waist with the intent to pull you back and lay you down to sleep… but he just couldn’t do it, his grip shakily tightening instead.
“what i need…” you slid your hands agonizingly slow up his chest and around his broad shoulders, your lips brushing against his with hot steamy desperate breaths fanning across each others faces. “is to know what it’s like to have your fingers in my mouth ken…”
“darling please—”
“—i wanna lick all over them—”
he respects you... dear god kento respects you he— he couldn’t possibly indulge in—
“—so i can show you how good i can suck and choke on your cock—”
kento mushed your cheeks together with his fingers and swallowed your lips up, you letting out a little squeak of surprise as his other unoccupied arm locked around your waist and pulled you flush against him, him hungrily kissing you and gulping down your humming moans of satisfaction as you hurriedly swung a leg over his thighs, straddling him.
you disconnected from his lips and pulled back, taking his hand and bringing it up to your mouth as you pushed him down on the mattress with your unoccupied one, kento looking up at you so hot and bothered and astonished as you hovered over him, plump precious lips wrapping around his index and ring finger and sensually sliding it deeper and deeper in your mouth across your wet tongue.
“jesus sweetheart…” he breathed out, eyes entirely transfixed on the way your lips closed around his fingers entirely and sucked, your head pumping slowly and you delighted over how hard he felt underneath his slacks over something as just you sucking on his fingers.
“m’gonna suck your dick.” you spoke with a mouthful of his digits, and he sat up a little.
“my darling you don’t— you don’t have to do that it’s alright—”
you slid his fingers out of your mouth and pouted. “but i want to… unless you don’t want me to? or do you prefer someone else to do it—”
“what? stop that.” he shook his head, reaching up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear as you snickered, his hand coming down to cup your cheek. “i’m just worried about keeping you up… you have to get ready in a couple of hours.”
you shrugged, giving him a little grin.
“if it’s you and your big dick keeping me up i could care less.”
you swung your thighs off of his lap and stood momentarily, dropping down to your knees and positioning yourself in between his legs— kento’s rounded eyes and shaky breaths making you laugh a little as you reached for the buckle of his belt, tugging the clasp open and him helping you in slipping it off before reaching in his pants, a trembling but needy hand pulling out his thick cock and slowly pumping it.
kento would’ve never thought you’d be kneeling in between his legs and about to do something he’d only fleetingly thought of, the sinful images quickly grabbed by him before he could materialize them in his head any further and tossed in the trash without looking back, embarrassed and awkwardly flustered that he’d thought of such a thing when you were usually just sitting there on your vanity desk dolling yourself up, or simply speaking to him.
he would’ve never thought that the questions of being something more to you than just your bodyguard, would actually actualize itself, your pretty lips beginning to wrap around the tip of his cock and all he can think about is you and how many days he spent yearning for you, confusing it for uncertainty, and lying to himself before giving in to the fact that he did love you. 
and very much so.
to kento, it was a privilege to undergo this intimate experience given by gracious you, and he only wished he didn’t push it away for so many years and dismissed your obvious attempts.
for what was happening now, was heavenly compared to the fleeting thoughts he had tossed in the trash prior… and your pace was rapid, your deprived little mouth that had begged for him time and time again slurping the ever living soul out of him as he clenched his jaw to keep his moans in, afraid of your father or any of the other housekeeping staff hearing what was filthily happening inside your bedroom— his face crossed over in pleasurable shock at how messy and drooly you were all over his dick without even allowing yourself the chance to breathe as you sucked. 
“honey—” he heaved, swallowing hard as he gathered your hair up into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face. “s—slow down or you’ll choke—”
you didn’t listen, your thighs clenching together to ease yourself a little as you sunk your mouth down and gagged, the tip of his cock lodged in the back of your throat so deliciously that he let out a string of rare curses from his lips.
you slurped back up and pulled off of his length with a pop, you sticking your tongue out and smiling too as you tapped his girthy dick on your tongue teasingly.
“but i want to choke ken…” you placed an open mouthed slutty kiss on the side. “and i’d like you to fuck my mouth too please—”
“shit—” he cleared his throat, his balls feeling awfully full and heavy as you parted your lips and took him in again. “but i could potentially harm you—”
you pulled off again. “kento i don’t care just use me or i’ll make you—”
he quickly gathered your soft hair again, leaned back on an elbow and shoved you back down, bucking his hips up and hitting your uvula so hard that you choked, eyes immediately watering and you moaning as he continued to buck his hips up and force you down, sloshing gurgling noises from you fueling his every being with ecstasy, throwing his head back and eyelids fluttering closed.
“you have such a dirty mouth sweetheart…” he grunted. “where did you learn that from? huh?”
you tried to respond, his relentless hip thrusting and filling your mouth up preventing you from getting anything out besides choking noises and spit, kento picking his head back up and looking at you with half lidded eyes.
“i hope you’re not speaking to other little dumb boys with it and teasing them the way you tease me…”
you tried to shake your head no and get it across that you absolutely were not— that you were physically repulsed by any other man making moves on you in your life because they were never him… but his big cock stuffing your throat was drowning out your every attempt so good that you couldn’t.
“no?” a little dazed smile played at his lips, his abdomen tightening and signifying that he was about to blow his entire pent up load in your mouth. “good honey… i don’t want you wasting your time.”
he bucked his hips up faster and forced your head down deeper, his panting and low grumbling moans making you fucking wild as you tried your best to take all of him and suck him, tears from how many times you gagged and choked trickling down your cheeks and you not giving a single fuck and pushing through, noticing that kento’s increased fidgeting and gasping was a signal that he was probably close.
and when you felt him loosen his grip on your hair, gently trying to pry you off so that he could cum somewhere else and not in your throat like the little gentlemen that he was, you slipped your mouth down again and held yourself firm, lips pumping up and down as you jerked him alongside, kento running a hand down the side of his cheek with eyes screwed tightly shut.
“darling i feel—” he quickly sat up, his expensive watch glistening against the moonlight as his hand fell over his heart. “i feel my release let me—”
he pushed at your shoulders gently and you refused, continuing to suck him off and drive him to the edge until a low gutting groan left his lips, you squeaking as he suddenly went feral and pushed the back of your head down and filled your throat up with his cum, sputtering and swallowing down as much as you could while he held you there.
“christ i’m sorry—” he let you go and you came off of him, gasping for air and with a mix of cum and drool seeping down your chin as you fell back on your ass, your chest moving erratically as you tried to catch your breath.
kento immediately stuffed his dick back in his pants and zipped it up, standing and placing his hands on your waist as he easily picked you up off the floor and sat you down next to him on the bed, concerned tumblings over your well being falling from his mouth as he moved your disheveled hair away from your face.
“honey i can’t tell you how sorry i am…” he dug into his blazer for his handkerchief, your tongue lapping up the excess drool and cum from your chin as his cheeks went red over you doing that, quickly stepping in and wiping off the rest for you.
“sorry for what ken?” you hummed, your voice a little hoarse and making kento feel guiltier as he sighed, placing the handkerchief down on your nightstand. 
“for abusing your throat y/n…” he spoke gently, ushering you to bed again as he pulled back the covers. “i wasn’t letting you breathe—”
“but i liked it.” you countered softly, crawling to your pillow and planting a tender little kiss to his cheek on your way, settling under the covers. “i asked you to use me baby… and you did just that! good job!”
kento playfully rolled his eyes and brought your blankets up to your chest. 
“yes but i could’ve done it in a better way.”
“in a better way likeee…?” you grinned cheekily. “like sex? well then you should’ve just asked ken i can take off my—”
you sat up and began unbuttoning your top, kento’s hands shooting out and stopping you midway as he flusteredly buttoned it back up, you laughing.
“please sweetheart you need to rest… it’s nearly six in the morning.” 
you groaned and plopped back down on your pillow. “just tell the monroe’s i’m sick. i’d rather be getting dicked down by you than drinking tea with them—”
“alright okay okay—” he brought the covers back up over you with an amused shy smile. “we’ll talk more about it tomorrow. at the monroe’s.”
you huffed and turned your back to him, kento chuckling before leaning over and placing a delicate lingering kiss on your temple, a slow sleepy smile crossing your face as you relished in the fact that he actually loved you… your fear of him seeing you as nothing more than just a spoiled brat quickly dissipating from the second he uttered his bashful but yet authentic confession to you.
you had been living in absolute worry and defiance and frustrating yourself when that wasn’t necessary at all— kento was just a gentlemen, a man, and his apprehensions for indulging in something more between the two of you were very real and valid and you understood… but you also didn’t care, your stubborn unruly (and spoiled…) personality and mind wanting nothing more than just kento.
and as long as you had him by your side, you didn’t care about anything else.
even when you had only gotten a total of a solid two hours of sleep before you had to wake up for brunch with the monroe’s, you didn’t care about that either, because kento was the one to wake you up with a soft hand down your back and gentle murmurs that slowly eased you awake, him delivering you a warm cup of hot chocolate for the morning because he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of coffee, and the brunch itself not seeming so bad too since you knew he would be there with you through the entire thing.
your newest biggest fear now though… was what your father would say once you told him. 
“are these alright for your hair miss y/n?”
you stopped applying your eyeshadow for a moment and turned your body from your bench seat, a tray of cute shiny pearled up bobby pins that you had requested a week prior sitting neat and ready for you, you looking up and smiling sweetly at your housekeeping staff.
“oh yes! these are beautiful thank you!”
she nodded. “do you need help putting these in? or are you okay?”
“i’m okay! if anything i’ll just ask kento hehe.”
she laughed softly, nodding again before placing the little tray down next to you on your vanity desk and turning to leave, passing by none other than kento on her way as he peaked through your door, giving your housekeeping staff a polite smile and allowing her to pass through first, making his way inside your bedroom once she left.
a cup of misty tea was carefully placed next to you on your desk, and you moved your eyeshadow brush away from your face again to see kento looking down at you with a kind grin, you instantly brightening up and scooching down on your seat to give him a little room to sit with you.
“you didn’t have to bring me this ken you gave me hot chocolate this morning!”
your voice was still a bit hoarse, and that’s precisely why he brought you hot tea to begin with, sighing softly through his nose as he sat down on the other side of your bench next to you.
“it’s for your throat honey.” you continued to buff out your eyeshadow, putting your brush away upon finishing and reaching up to fiddle with your bun, taking a few strands out for a more candid look. “how do you feel?”
“horny.”
kento went into a coughing fit and you laughed, his reactions to your ludicrousy always being a favorite of yours as you pecked his cheek in apology.
“sorry sorry—” you wiped the gloss you got on him off of his chiseled cheek, picking up your little tea cup after and taking a sip. “i mean it’s true i want your dick inside of me but—”
“darling.”
“okay!” you set your tea cup down, grumpily took some of your pearl bobby pins from the tray and started sticking them in your hair. “just say you don’t want to have sex with me it’s fine—”
“that is not what i’m saying whatsoever—”
“you refused to have sex with me last night and you’re doing it again right now mph!—”
he clasped a big hand over your mouth and pulled your head in, bringing his lips to your ear.
“there is nothing more i want than to be inside of you and split your warm little cunt open.”
your eyes blew out in shock.
“so enough or you won’t get anything.”
he turned your head to make you look at him directly.
“understood?”
you quickly nodded and he lowered his hand, grabbing one of yours and kissing the back of it before standing and walking to the door.
“your father wants you in the car with me in twenty minutes sweetheart. i’ll wait for you there.”
you watched him click the door shut behind him and you spun your head back around to face the mirror, shakily moving some strands away and quickly fanning yourself in attempts at calming the fuck down, completely thrown off course on what you were supposed to do next in your routine as you couldn’t even remember what you had just done.
because kento had a secret feral mouth that you had no idea of until now…
and you wanted to hear it again.
eventually you gathered yourself up and finished putting the rest of your bobby pin pearls in your hair, shuffling around in your room looking for your chiffon scarf and breathing out a sigh of relief once you caught sight of its pastel yellow fabric, it matching your summery dress and peeking from your bed as you snatched it and looped it around your upper arms, the fabric falling gracefully in a low curve behind you as you grabbed your clutch and made your way out the door.
you didn’t know what energy to exactly expect from the car ride as you trotted down your staircase and out to his car, but you were nonetheless still surprised to see that kento carried on like he didn’t just mutter in your ear that he wanted to rearrange your guts and for you to behave, you blinking at him and perplexed when he just went on about what things to pay attention to that the girls say because he knew your father would ask you about that certain topic later, not wanting you to get in trouble and an earful if you weren’t able to answer his questions about it.
and you were still perplexed upon arriving at the monroe’s estate— their place of living the only thing you really liked about the yearly brunches, as they lived in what looked like a fucking english regency palace instead of the plain modernized mansions you were accustomed to (including yours…), and you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous each year of the wonderful labyrinth the monroe’s had, an endless place of history and poise that your own home very much lacked.
but as beautiful as their estate was, it still didn’t make up for the absolute bitches that lived in it.
“ken if you turn this car around right now i will do absolutely anything you say and not go to any parties for two months instead of just one—”
he chuckled loudly and shook his head, rounding their grand water fountain that sat extravagantly in the center of their lawn outside, other sleek cars already parked in the front. 
“it’s just for a couple of hours honey.” he parked the car and turned off the ignition, unbuckling his seatbelt. “just indulge in their conversations for a while… and listen please. your father will ask about it later.”
kento shut the door as you unbuckled your seatbelt, him opening yours on the other side while offering a hand out for you to take, you gratefully doing so with a stoic dead look on your face as you kept your eyes locked to the grabble below.
“they don’t even like me.” you muttered, flashing a polite smile to the housekeeping staff that was waiting up ahead, walking up the steps. “the monroe’s and their girl friends don’t even like each other they’re all just a bunch of fake—”
“y/n!”
both of your heads shot up just as you entered the estate, the eldest of the monroe sisters trodding up to you with a smile.
“it’s good to see you!” her eyes shifted to kento. “and with nanami. of course.”
bitch.
“mhm! yup!” you exchanged polite hugs and stepped back. “are the rest of the girls here?”
“yes they just got here actually! they’re all out in the garden with my sisters i was just heading there now!”
“great! i’ll see myself then, you go on ahead.” you tightly smiled, and she shrugged, bidding you a ‘see you later’ before disappearing off into the depths of her home, you slowly turning around with a stressed out twitch in your eye but faltering when kento wasn’t behind you like you thought he was.
you spun around as your tried to look for him, gaze scanning the area to find him and stopping once you did, your brows furrowing in confusion upon seeing him at the other side of the corridor staring at something.
you slowly began walking down, eyes locked on what he was looking at and it making you stop in your tracks next to him once you got close enough to see.
the wall in front of you was littered with wedding photos of the monroe sisters parents and the generations before— the ceremony, cake cutting, pictures of their first dance, and singular portraits of various brides and grooms on their wedding days scattered about with smiles on their faces, all things kento was just staring at without any indication in his expression that could let you know as to what was going on in his head.
“ken?” you asked softly, and he looked to you.
“oh i’m sorry.” he glanced at his watch. “are you ready to head out into the garden?”
“y—yeah…” your eyes switched back to the wall ahead.
“you were looking at their wedding photos?” you smiled. “they’re cute huh? i look at them too every time we come.”
he nodded, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you away from the wall and towards the garden again. 
“i was only curious.” he spoke. “there’s an awful large amount of them.”
you snorted in agreement and continued walking, feeling like there was something he was thinking about and not telling you— you looking to the garden entrance ahead then deciding to take a peek at kento again through the corner of your eye, you suddenly finding him looking over his shoulder at the portraits still.
and your eyes softened.
you slowed down and reached up, gently turning his head from the portraits to you.
“what’s wrong ken?” you looked over at the wall and back to him. “why do you keep looking at the pictures?”
“oh��� i didn’t realize.” he readjusted his yellow lensed sunglasses and continued ushering you on with a hand on your back. 
you frowned.
“ken you wouldn’t look at something for that long without any reasoning behind it…”
“it’s truly nothing.” he responded simply, the both of you entering the garden now and drawing nearer to the long table set up amidst a bed of roses and daisies, the rest of the girls beginning to take their seats. “enjoy your brunch darling.”
“no! but—”
“it’s alright go say hello—”
“i’d rather actually rot—”
“hello y/n!”
you stopped fidgeting and dropped your arms, another tight smile on your face as you greeted the youngest monroe sister from the table, deciding to ignore kento’s chuckling from behind you and walk up, taking a seat with the rest of them and looking over the extravagantly set up table for anything to stuff your face with— it filled with little pastries and appetizers from top to bottom, a pretty strawberry shortcake cake in the middle surrounded by a tier of cupcakes and scones, little baked sandwich platters, and a porcelain tea cup set at each of your designated seats to enjoy.
you lightened up a little over all of the cute details and selections, forgetting that the monroe’s always knew how to put on a lovely brunch for all of you every year as you extended an arm, grabbing the nearest tea pot and carefully pouring the steaming liquid in your cup.
“girls! just the other day my father bought me another set of those diamond jewels from the franziska’s!”
that’s why you’d always forget.
the rest of them gushed and looked around the table to the eldest monroe, her neck clad in a pretty diamond necklace with matching earrings and rings.
“i know right? i had lost my previous set while swimming in the lake and my staff couldn’t find them.”
“oh that happened to me once.” one of their girlfriends piped up. “it was an exclusive emerald set from europe… only one in the entire world made!”
the rest of the girls gasped and murmured.
“i had my staff looking in the lake all day and night for three days until one of them finally found it!”
“oh thank god!” the middle monroe sister breathed out. “i would’ve absolutely hated to lose those! especially since they’re a one of a kind!”
“mhm yup! and you know what else actually? just the other day i found out francis— you know the girl from the faltis family?”
the girls faces turned knowing and they eagerly nodded.
“i found out she was asking up and down various jewelry shops and makers for my emerald set!”
they all gasped.
“you’re kidding!”
“no! the girl either wanted to copy me or make the same exact set to still copy me.”
“oh! that sleazy—”
you completely tuned them out beyond this point, your brain literally pulsing with the stupidest shit you had ever come across to hearing in your life, choosing to sit there and enjoy the weather and pretty cherry blossoms around you as you ate a cranberry scone and thought about the things you wanted to do for the weekend.
it’s not like you were a total opposite from the rest of the girls.
you too liked jewels and pretty things, luxury branded vehicles and a little bit of gossip here and there.
but it was the way they talked about it and handled each thing was what aggravated you the most.
they were ungrateful, greedy, and bitchy— no other girl that was a loose connection from them allowed to have the same jewelry set as theirs, the same set of friends as theirs, or the same set of dresses for your monthly bashes and dinner parties as theirs, turning utterly nasty if they so even got a glance of someone else having the same thing as them.
all things that were pointless and unrighteous to be upset about.
and just for the sake of keeping your father from putting your head on a stick, you remained civil with them and refrained from wearing anything similar to theirs at an event if you knew they would be in attendance.
but it was easy, for your taste was completely different than the lot of them, and you preferred pearls anyway over any kind of diamond or emerald or sapphire jewel piece.
“oh! and you know what i heard?” another girl friend spoke up. “akio from the corvus family has a little crush on miss y/n over there!”
kento’s ears perked up.
you jumped upon hearing your name, the rest of the girls gushing and ‘ooing’ as they turned their attention to you.
“i’m sorry what? who?”
“akio!” she laughed. “that man is obsessed with you! he asks for you at every single gathering.”
akio? 
akio… akio…
“the one that looks like a toad?”
the girls laughed at your comment, covering their mouths or learning forward as you just blinked at them, unaware of how what you said was so funny.
“oh you’re too much!” the youngest monroe waved you off. “yes him! any time he sees any of us at an event he always asks if you’re there with us.”
“you know what yes!” the eldest exclaimed. “i heard he wanted to strike up a proposal with your father! i think he already did!”
you dropped the cupcake you were holding.
and kento froze.
“a— a— propo—”
“oh my god congratulations y/n!”
“lucky you!”
“oh a bride already!—”
you turned in your seat to look at kento, but he was looking the other way, an unreadable expression on his face.
you turned back to the girls.
“is this a rumor or it’s actually happening?” you asked. “i don’t want to get married to him!”
they laughed again.
“why not?! yes he’s ugly but that man is loaded. has money to last him and you entirely without having to work a day in your lives!”
your blood ran cold, because anything you knew that was ordered by your father, was bible.
a housekeeping kitchen staff came around then and refilled a few platters of pastries and appetizers.
“ahh you’re so fortunate y/n!” one of the girl friends gushed. “i’d love to be wed to a man with money like akio… i could care less what he looks like!”
“you can have him.” you quickly sputtered, and they laughed again. “no seriously i don’t want him take him please—”
“oh don’t be silly!” the youngest monroe sister waved you off. “akio wants you. he’s kind of creepy about it too.”
“why me?!” you whined. “i’ve only spoken to him a handful of times—”
“why don’t you ask him at the dinner party you’re hosting next week? i’m pretty sure he’s going!” another girl friend spoke up. “i have a feeling he’s gonna propose to you there.”
you propped your elbow up on the table and placed a hand on your forehead in misery, feeling like you were living in a total nightmare.
“i’d honestly rather go broke.”
they all burst out laughing again.
what the hell was so funny?
“you’re too much!” the middle monroe sister gasped. “just give him a chance! once you see all the things he can buy for you, you’ll change your mind. plus… i think it’d be nice to have a break from mr. nanami don’t you think?”
you picked your head up.
“…kento?”
“uh huh!” the eldest continued. “god that must be exhausting having him around watching over you like that… it’s like he’s babysitting you. must be tiresome for him too.”
babysitting?
“with you and akio’s marriage i’m sure he’ll dismiss nanami’s services, and you can go your separate ways finally!”
“but—”
“and mr. nanami sure is handsome too.” another girl piped up with a hushed voice. “he’ll find a rich girl to settle down with in no time—”
“oh that’d be so great!—”
you abruptly stood, the silverware and tea cups clattering as you did so, the rest of them falling silent.
“sorry. excuse me.” you mumbled, eyes casted downward as you moved around your chair and off to the side, the girls shrugging and uncaring as they proceeded to babble on about other nonsense as you walked ahead, further and further away from the table and the chattering and through the garden, passing by several other flower beds of orchards and sunflowers until you reached the little duck pond by the end of the garden.
you stopped and sighed, bitterly crossing your arms and damning your father for ever discussing something as serious as marriage without your consent, marrying you off basically, or even lacking giving you a god damn warning before you came to brunch today— you and your father both knowing how much of a blabber mouth all of the girls were and how much they fed off of gossip like that.
you felt like a fucking idiot.
and who the hell was akio exactly? you knew of him and kind of had an idea of what he looked like, but you never really paid attention whenever he came up to talk to you at events or parties, his face almost entirely blurry in your mind besides the obvious features he had that did in fact make him look like a damn toad.
and another thing that was obvious too, was how creepy he was.
the only thing the monroe’s shit talking got right.
“honey?”
you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“hi ken.”
the rustling of grass filled the otherwise peaceful ambience as he stepped beside you, the both of you looking out ahead over the sparkling duck pond.
“are you alright?”
you nodded.
“i know you’re not alright i can see it.” he readjusted his lenses. “i’m assuming it has to do with the information the monroe’s told you?”
“i’m being married off ken.” you mumbled, eyes switching to him. “how are you so calm about this?”
“oh i’m not.” he spoke simply. “i’m quite agitated actually.”
you faltered, eyes falling down.
“i’ve always respected your father ever since we were young. and every choice he made with you i always agreed that it was what was best for you.”
you listened.
“but i can’t—” he paused. “… i can’t see how this is best for you. and i don’t know if it’s because i love you and i’m being selfish or if it actually is what’s best for you… so my thinking is— adhered.”
“how can marrying me off like the fucking renaissance period be what’s best for me?” you muttered, and he chuckled softly.
“and i love you, kento.” you continued. “my thinking’s also messed up.”
he placed a hand on your lower back and gently nudged you to him, you complying and falling into his side, wrapping your arms around him.
“it’s your choice y/n.” he spoke softly. “i know akio isn’t… the greatest. but he’s qualified to be your husband.”
your eyes widened.
“what are you saying? what about— what about you?”
he looked down, a sad smile on his face.
“i’ll stay for as long as you need me sweetheart.”
the ducks fluttering wings from the pond ahead filled the silence, tranquil splashes of water that followed after their every move with little quacks and hoots.
“so you’re just gonna give me away.” you mumbled. “just like that. easy peasy. who cares—”
“no—”
“i want you to be my husband ken.”
he gave you a deadpanned look.
“darling don’t joke about things like that—”
“oh i’m not joking.” you separated from him, frustration swirling in your chest. “why is it always considered a joke to you when i talk about being with you?”
he paused, sighing a little through his nose.
“i feel incredibly lucky that a woman like you could envision a life with me.” he spoke. “but i’m also aware that i’m very… boring. i’d feel it wrong to tie you down to a life without excitement like the one you live now.”
kento slipped an arm around your waist and brought you back in again.
“akio seems to be more like you… maybe you could learn to get along.”
your lip began to wobble, and kento’s eyes softened. 
“sweethea—”
“i don’t care about any of that stuff.” you sniffled, wiping your cheeks. “you of all people should know this—”
“don’t cry please you’ll ruin your hard work—”
kento dug into his blazer and pulled out a little handkerchief, carefully patting down your face.
“yes i like to go out a lot but so what? it’s not something that’s a part of me it’s just something i like to do.”
you took the handkerchief from him and pressed it into the corner of your eye. 
“you’re a part of me ken… and i want a life with you, i’ve known since i was freaking sixteen. i don’t need it spelled out for me.”
kento swallowed.
he’d always admired how stubborn you were, because to him it meant a strong mind and an ambitious drive in contrast to the negative connotation that that word seemed to have— things that were absolutely who you were and why he fell in love with you in the first place, and why you were such a gem.
but he worried still that you’d regret it and change your mind.
that he wouldn’t be able to live up to your lifestyle and your wants and needs, and that you’d get bored of him… leaving in the end.
kento doesn’t think he could bare the thought of you leaving him, much like how he couldn’t bare the thought of you marrying akio either.
but if it meant what was best for you, then so be it… except it wasn’t. 
he was sure of it.
“you’re a part of me as well.” he murmured. “i’m sure you know that—”
“i don’t.” you grumbled, and he chuckled. “you’re always switching up on me with your rejections and then your confessions i’m confused—”
kento silenced you with a kiss to your lips, his big hands on either sides of your face as your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into his built frame, your arms snaking around his neck and his bringing you closer by the waist as you tenderly deepened the kiss— soft lips smacking and moving with such love that it almost made you cry again.
“i’m sorry.” he pulled back, whispering against your lips. “it’s completely unfair to you—”
“s’okay ken.” you whispered back, the cutest smile he had even seen in his life on your face. “i’ll forgive you if you keep kissing me.”
“deal.”
your lips mushed up against each others once more, kento breathing you in and relishing in the feeling of your body pressed up against his, his hands slowly roaming around from your waist to your sides— still trying to be respectful of his hand placement until you took one of them and lowered it to your ass cheek with a squeeze, him laughing against your lips.
you were so silly.
silly and bright and spontaneous and beautiful, today another reminder from countless others with your frilly pastel yellow sundress and the pearls in your hair, your entity different from the rest of the women he’d come to know and thankful that he was lucky enough to have grown with you.
to have protected you. 
and the both of you were relieved to see that the monroe sisters and their girl friends didn’t seem to care where you two had ventured off to, for you didn’t know how long you were gone either as you approached the table again— the dessert piles, scones, and strawberry shortcake cake nearly nonexistent, you taking a seat again and secretly reapplying your lipgloss since kento had basically sucked it off of your face, your cheeks pinky and the butterflies in your stomach running rampant.
you were glad then that the monroe’s and their minions were such dim witted bitches too, because their level of self-absorption inhibited them from knowing or picking up on any clues of what could have transpired between you and kento in the garden, them immediately going to you upon arrival and chatting up a storm about mindless things again like you had never left the table to begin with.
but all you could think about was what you were going to tell you father about akio.
and you didn’t want to think about it honestly… because you knew there was a strong chance of you getting literally violent and landing yourself in deeper shit with him than ever before.
that didn’t matter either though if it meant being with kento… and for real this time. the thought of simply just him giving you the push that you needed to trudge up your grand staircase once you got home from brunch, kento trailing behind you and pleading with you to take a little breather before going in to speak with your father, but you absolutely done over the situation seeing as he only ever saw you as a thing and not his daughter if he was willing to marry you off like that.
“my love please relax—”
you stopped in front of your fathers study and knocked curtly, ignoring kento’s words.
“come in.”
you pushed down the handle and walked through, kento following close behind you and clicking the door closed as you stepped to the front of your fathers desk, your arms crossed.
“ah y/n. nanami.” he looked up from his documents, eyes switching between the two of you. “how was brunch with the monroe’s?”
“good.” you replied.
“was the food selection still as grandiose as always?” he looked back down at his paperwork.
“mhm.” you crossed your arms. “they had strawberry shortcake cake this year.”
he hummed. “the monroe’s always know how to put on a good event don’t they? for their daughters? and how are they by the w—”
“they’re fine.” you cut him off sharply. “but you know what isn’t fine?”
he eyed you.
“what?”
“that you’re marrying me off to akio—”
he sighed loudly and placed his documents flat on his desk, leaning forward and wringing his hands together to rest on the surface.
“he’s a good prospect.” he began. “he came up to me with some very impressive ideas about the future of my business, and also how much he was interested in you.”
you scoffed. “so this is what the arrangement is about? your business?”
“i thought you would be happy about this?” he extended his hands out lazily. “akio comes from a wealthy background. you’ll be taken care of in whatever you need and he’s qualified to take over my business once the time comes—”
hurt flashed across your face.
“why would you consider akio taking over your business and not your daughter?”
he laughed humorously, shuffling some papers about mindlessly on his desk.
“y/n you can’t possibly think that i’d consider you to take leadership over my business.”
“and why the hell not?”
his eyes narrowed.
“because you’re incompetent.” he spoke harshly. “you don’t know the meaning of responsibility, you’re stubborn, you’re spoiled, and all that you concern yourself with is parties and outings. you think i would allow you anywhere near my business?”
with each insult and jab that was thrown in your face, the blurrier and blurrier your vision got, you desperately trying to blink your tears back and put on a brave front, but finding it difficult when it was your own father that was dumbing you down to nothing.
“you’re not ready for anything like this and i don’t think you will ever be.” he stood up from his chair. “i’m thinking of what’s good for you and you’re being ungrateful yet again with your complaints—”
“sir with all due respect please try to see where she’s coming from.” kento interjected. “i’m sure she has the future of your business in her best interests, but marrying her off to someone she doesn’t know very well is upsetting her—”
“she’s never had any interest in the state of my business son you and i both know that—”
“sir she’s an extremely capable woman and independent i assure you her contribution to the business would serve prosperity—”
your father scoffed. “there is no prosperity with her. all she brings is disorder and foolery and i appreciate you trying to vouch for her but—”
“please if you’d just give her a chance—”
“i’d give you more of a chance over her—”
“then give the company to kento!” you yelled, the both of them snapping their heads to you and kento’s eyes widening. “i could care less what you think of me everything you told me isn’t new fucking information—”
“young lady language—”
“—i’m not here to try and convince you to give me the business that’s not what i’m here for.” you spat. “but don’t you dare stand there and say that i’ve never cared about the state of it when that’s bullshit.”
kento placed a hand on your shoulder and you shook it off.
“give the company to kento.” you repeated firmly. “if you give it to akio he’ll run your business to the ground and you know that.”
“and how would you know he isn’t qualified—”
“are you kidding?” you shook your head incredulously. “akio is a little dumb boy who goes to his daddy for help any chance he gets because he can’t do anything for himself. he puts on a show about how he’s this mature experienced man when he’s nothing but a joke.”
“i thought you said you barely knew him?” your father asked. “where is this information coming from?”
“the monroe sisters.” you spat. “they’re blabbermouths and their opinions are garbage, but their gossip is always truthful.”
it’s how you found out about the arranged proposal after all.
“i’m stubborn, i’m spoiled, i’m too stupid to handle anything for myself i’m helpless— fine. whatever you say but him?—”
you pointed to kento.
“he’s the most qualified for this position and you and i both know that.”
“y/n no—” kento tried to interject again, but you cut him off.
“he’s seen you handle the business since he was fourteen and knows it inside and out and just as much as you do. any task you’ve ever given him he’s gotten it done and more and i assure you that the business will flourish if you give it to him.”
you stepped forward, your father standing there with a neutral expression.
“believe it or not i care about what you worked so hard for to create, and i care about you, and regardless of what you think of me and the fact that you’ve shown me the complete opposite, it’d kill me to see akio ruin all of it.”
you wiped your cheeks and continued as you turned around, making your way to the other side of your father’s study. 
“kento’s a good man. everything will be in good hands with him.”
you threw open the door and stomped out.
“and i’m not marrying akio!—”
“y/n return at once—”
“sir i advise you to—”
your father and kento’s words drowned out the further down the hallway you got, tears spilling from your eyes now that you were away from it all as your heels hastily clicked against the shiny marble flooring, quiet sobs racking through your body.
you spouting repeatedly how you didn’t care what your father thought about you was a complete lie.
because you very much did care… you always have. and no matter how hard you tried to prove to him that you were capable of more than just parties and brunches and pearls and pretty dresses and shoes and cars, it was never enough. 
you were never enough.
“y/n—”
kento distantly burst out from your father’s study and quickly strode up to you, concern etched all over his face as you shook off your chiffon scarf and chucked it somewhere behind you in frustration. 
“my darling—” kento picked up the long piece of fabric and continued on after you. “my darling i’m so sorry—”
“i need to be alone ken.” you sobbed. “i’m sorry too i just need to be alone—”
“i refuse to leave—”
you slammed your bedroom door shut and kento picked up the pace, his eyes big in alarm at the sound of tumbling and thudding in your room as he stopped in front of your door, swinging it open to reveal you on the other side throwing your heels across the room along with several other pairs and things, your pretty pearls and jewels flying as he stood there in shock.
kento caught sight of you picking up your favorite porcelain flower vase amidst your rage to throw, him quickly stepping in and snatching it from you and fighting your thrashing as he held you to himself.
“kento stop it!—”
he placed the vase safely on your vanity desk and spun you around, his arms grabbing your shoulders tightly as he bent down to your level.
“sweetheart breathe please—” 
he hurriedly snagged off his cream colored blazer and tossed it off to the side, leaving him in his blue button up and suspenders as he rolled up his sleeves and placed his hands back on your shoulders.
“hey— it’s alright.” his hazel eyes frantically darted over every corner of your face, him snatching off his lenses now and tossing them. “it’s alright breathe for me y/n please—”
you could only sob, your mascara stained cheeks and heartbroken expression crumbling and ripping kento to pieces as he looked at you, his hands coming up to cup and caress your wet face.
“everything he said was the farthest thing from the truth don’t let it upset you like this—”
“no but he’s right he’s right!” you sobbed. “i’m useless i can’t do shit for myself and i’d probably be off somewhere dead in a ditch if it wasn’t for you—”
“do not say things like that—”
“kento you can’t be with me.”
he faltered. “i’m sorry?”
“you can’t be with me it’s embarrassing to be with me you’re better off with someone who’s capable and responsible like you i just bring you down—”
“stop that i’m serious i won’t ask again—”
“no kento you’re not listening!” you cried, your shoulders violently shaking. “you’re a good man. you’re such a good man and you’re way too good for me and i don’t deserve to be with you you can’t keep babysitting me like this—”
“how could you ever possibly say these things about yourself?” he shook his head. “how could you ever say that you’re too good for me when it’s the other way around?”
your eyes narrowed.
“no it’s not don’t give me that—”
“your father is full of shit.”
your mouth snapped shut.
kento never badmouthed your father no matter what it was, and he also never cussed so forceful and purposeful no matter the situation.
“he’s always been too hard on you and too stoic for reasons that i will never understand nor ever agree with.”
he leaned closer.
“do not upset yourself over the things he said any longer and do not worry about your marriage arrangement with akio.”
“ken—”
“do not think about the pearls you just threw over your balcony do not worry about anything— i will take care of it.”
“i—”
“i love you and i will take care of it.”
you continued to cry, letting your body slump wholly against his as he caught you and held you tight.
“please.. i beg you darling to believe me when i say that you are the most capable woman i know.” he spoke against your ear, his chest aching over your soft sobbing. “you’re witty and you’re intelligent and you’ve come so far simply because of who you are and the way you carry yourself. it’s a shame your father can’t see that.”
“no one can see that—”
“i can see it. everybody else can see it too and i’ve been around you all my life to testify for it.” 
you sniffled, burying your face in his neck.
“believe me my love…” he ran a soothing hand down your back. “you’re everything. you’re an asset. don’t let your father’s words take that away.”
you sniffled a little, standing there silent as your hiccups and sobs settled down gradually, your heart beating prominently against your ribs at kento’s sweet murmurings and affection, because though your fathers actions and decisions were bible, so were kento’s words.
he was a good man.
“thank you.” you mumbled, and he nodded, gently guiding you to your bed to sit.
“i’ll take care of you sweetheart.” he pulled back and placed a soft kiss to your lips. “i promise you.”
you smiled a little, a small warm gleam in your eyes as you sniffed and nodded.
“okay ken.”
words didn’t need to be said between the two of you to know the unconditional love you both had for each other, one that was born and bred and made a fact upon your lives crossing paths through fated connections, and strengthened from the day kento decided to be your bodyguard and protect you with everything that he had.
and words didn’t need to be said between the two of you as you both fell in each other’s soft embraces either, kissing with lingering hands and bated breaths as kento delicately laid you back on your bed after a moment of soft chattering, him making sure you were okay, and scattering hungry open mouthed kisses on your jaw and neck and your body language alone with your needy whines enough of an indicator to him that you needed all of him, just as much as he needed all of you, his calloused hands undressing you and worshipping your bare body and everything that you were.
skin to skin contact that was hot to the touch, your arms that barely reached around his broad built shoulders trembling as kento made love to you that night, foreheads resting against each others as he pumped slowly and intimately in and out from inside you, your gasps catching themselves in your throat and him moaning with every thrust and snap of his hips that sent you down a ditzy fucked out road that you never wanted to back track from.
and kento treated you like a delicate little pearl all while at the same time desperately marking and bruising you up with hickeys and bites, afraid from the start that he would accidentally cross the line and hurt you due to his size, but you reassuring him with your perfect smile and pretty face while whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he filled you full, him swallowing you whole and man handling you so much to the point where he had to have you biting down on his tie to keep you quiet while he fucked you senseless.
everything about it was meaningful and cherished and nothing like you’d ever experienced before in your life— a night you wanted to remember for as long as you lived and prayed that you got to repeat over and over again… with him.
with kento and kento only.
he was the only man capable of simmering down your tears and making you feel so much better about a situation as horrid as the one that transpired, and he was the only man that was capable of getting you to listen when you didn’t want to, an incredible talent in itself that spoke volumes in how much of a gentle and kind and reliable person he was… and you only hoped that you provided him with things of the same caliber.
and the thought of that only amplified upon you waking up to find that kento wasn’t next to you in your bed the next morning… when you clearly remembered falling asleep in his big arms the night before.
you slowly sat up, one tired eye peeking over at the vacant spot next you and around the room, finding nothing and honestly feeling a little down about his disappearance as you groggily got out of bed.
maybe he went to eat breakfast? or get a cup of coffee?
you continued on anyways with your morning and freshened up for the day, your legs nearly giving out and sore in the shower due to the pounding he gave you— skin tender and purple under the running water and you loving every mark, shrugging and getting ready quicker than normal so you could finally see kento downstairs to share a little smooch or two with him.
you zoomed through styling your hair and doing your makeup before spritzing a bit of perfume, not bothering to locate your phone before you opened the door to your bedroom and stepped out, bidding your usual good mornings to your housekeeping staff as you skipped down the grand staircase and over to the kitchen, a place he was usually at if not already with you in your room.
but he wasn’t there.
and you frowned.
where was he?
you spent a total of thirty minutes looking for kento— practically turning your mansion upside down and even sticking your head in rooms you had never stepped foot in before, your mind fucking confused and worried that you couldn’t locate him anywhere and that your staff didn’t even know where he was when you asked, for him doing something like this was completely unheard of.
upon going back upstairs, you speedily walked past your fathers study and stopped.
could he be in there…?
but your father was for sure in there, and you couldn’t stand the thought of speaking or even looking at him at the moment without fury clouding your judgement again.
but kento could be in there…
you took a deep breath and walked back to your fathers door, hesitantly knocking gently.
“come in.”
you pushed the door open and stepped in, closing it behind you before turning around and shoulders slumping when you didn’t spot him in here either.
dammit.
“good morning.” your father spoke. “what can i do for you? it’s rather early for you to be stopping by.”
“oh yeah sorry i just—” you played with the ends of your hair. “i was just looking for kento… i thought he might’ve been in here.”
he shook his head.
“he’s not. he left.”
you froze.
“he— what?”
“he left.” you father repeated. “nanami stepped down from the position of being your bodyguard earlier today. he left a couple of hours ago.”
what the fuck?
“i don’t—” you tightly gripped the table next to you, balancing yourself. “i don’t understand—”
“you’ll be assigned a new bodyguard within the next coming week—”
“did he say why?” you breathed out. “did he say anything at all?”
your fathers eyes scanned you.
“amongst various other things, he said he simply couldn’t fulfill that position anymore.”
“did you fire him?!”
he scoffed. “don’t be ridiculous y/n i would never do something like that to nanami. i tried to get him to reconsider.”
holy fucking shit.
kento quit? kento left? kento left you?
it didn’t make any sense. nothing about it made sense to you this— this wasn’t like him at all—
“like i said you’ll be assigned a new bodyguard soon i just need to finalize nanami’s paperwork—”
you swung open the door and ran out, your eyes already filling with tears as you pushed through your housekeeping staff and ignored their beckoning and calls, you bursting through your room and throwing everything around to try and find your phone through your heaving and panic.
why did he leave you? was it something you did?
did he finally realize you were nothing but a useless spoiled girl?
you hurriedly wiped your eyes and kept looking, transitioning from your bed over to your vanity desk and knocking over everything to try and find your stupid phone to call him, some of your expensive bottle of perfumes clattering and spilling and you not giving a rats ass about it as your tears increased in intensity, about to run out of your room and get in your car to literally drive around your fucking city to look for him until you snapped your head up.
a small yellow sticky note sat stuck to your mirror. 
you stopped, dropping the items you were holding and stepping closer— pulling the note from its position and bringing it in.
i’ll be in the garden waiting for you when you wake up.
kento.
you hiccuped and wiped your eyes again, kicking the clothes you had thrown about in search for your phone (that you still couldn’t find) as you hurriedly left your room and trudged down the hall, confusion and hurt suffocating your head over the information you had just learned about him and his leave, you reaching the bottom of your staircase and rounding through various hallways and lounge areas to get to the entry way of your little garden, one that wasn’t exaggeratingly massive like the monroe’s, but one that was a great size and that you loved with everything in you— various flowers and herbs planted by yours truly as you periodically took care of them from time to time.
and sure enough, as promised, kento was standing at the end of your garden, his back turned to you as he overlooked the acres of land your father owned that stretched beyond the premises of your rosey labyrinth, him dressed in a casual yet dressy tight long sleeve sweater and dress pants— a sight you weren’t used to seeing at all as you always saw him in a full blown suit everyday without fail.
kento heard the soft rustling of grass and he slightly turned, a soft smile stretching across his chiseled face until he caught sight of your tear stained cheeks and pissed off expression, his face dropping and brows pinching.
“honey what’s wrong?” he walked over to you and you glared. “why are you looking at me like that?”
“you quit.” you muttered, already annoyingly feeling your waterworks trigger again. “my father said you gave up your bodyguard position.”
“oh.” his shoulders relaxed, and his nonchalance only further pissed you off. “i did my love yes—”
“why.” you pushed. “why are you leaving i don’t— i don’t get it did i do something wrong? i—”
“what?” he shook his head and took your hands in his. “no dear god no you didn’t do anything.”
“then why are you leaving?” you sniffed, and kento wiped a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.
“i told your father i love you.”
you stiffened.
“he wasn’t very pleased.” he continued. “i figured he wouldn’t be… but he didn’t make me step down from my position darling, i chose to do that.”
you blinked confusedly.
“but why?”
“i don’t want to be paid for something that i was born to do as your man.” he smiled warmly. “it didn’t feel right to me… and i don’t want to be labeled as that anymore either.”
he wiped away your remaining tears.
“i want to only be known as yours now. not your bodyguard or anything else in between.”
you were left speechless, unmoving and rigid at everything he was saying.
“however… your father did make me choose between you and the business.”
your brows furrowed, taken aback.
“the— the business?—”
kento nodded, a content smile still on his face.
“he was impressed by what you said yesterday sweetheart.” 
you scoffed. “what that his words were bullshit and that he doesn’t care about me—”
he laughed, little crinkles in the corners of his eyes as he shook his head.
“he was satisfied to see that you weren’t angry about not getting the company for yourself, but because he was going to give it away to someone who wasn’t qualified to maintain it.” 
you pursed your lips.
“he was offering it to me in exchange for letting you go. i refused immediately.”
your eyes shot up.
“kento no i— fuck—” you looked around exasperatedly. “this is your dream! this is everything you’ve ever wanted i feel horrible for taking that away i don’t—”
“sweetheart don’t be stupid.” he chuckled. “i thought i made it clear enough that you’re everything i’ve ever wanted… not some business. i don’t need any of that. just you.”
your eyes softened.
“are you sad at all?”
he shook his head and gently kissed your forehead.
“i’m the happiest i’ve ever been y/n.”
and that was the truest of truths.
kento was truly and incandescently happy, no longer tied down and restrained by his inner monologues of former idiotic confusion, or jugglings of what was best for you and whether you should be with him or not no longer standing in the way either as he finally welcomed the fact that yes— a woman as gracious and lively and stunning as you could indeed love a simple man like him, an absolute privilege and honor to have someone as special as you want a life with him in it that he just couldn’t understand how his feelings were ever considered confusing to start with.
for him thinking of nothing but you and his occupation as your protector and your guide, a job that he saw himself doing beside you until his very dying day, was all simply a mask of him thinking out the rest of his life with you in the form of work.
and it was so clear that he loved you. so much.
how could he not? how could the way he stared at the monroe’s generational wedding portraits and photographs, swapping their faces out with his and yours, and his constant weighings of ‘if she was mine’ and ‘does she actually feel the same way’ from before not already give away enough that he loved you?
but it was even clearer now, with him giving up the opportunity to build and nourish a reputable business like he’d always aspired to do, turning it down without so much as a blink because he wanted you and you only, not feeling an ounce of regret in his body and knowing that he never will.
kento was looking forward to spending the rest of his days with the woman that he’d always envisioned it with— the forbidden heavenly fruit that he had deemed impossible to reach and wrong to even try, him unknowing of the fact that that same glistening fruit sat dangling and waiting as it would only ever let itself be harvested and picked by him… for kento was the one who planted and had been nurturing it for as long as it could remember.
planted it… nurtured it… kept it safe.
kept you safe.
and funnily enough, another individual was also looking forward to seeing your life with kento unfold… your father— curious to see how exactly two opposites became compatible, and when it was that the two of you fell in love as it managed to wholeheartedly slip past his radar completely when most things didn’t.
had he really been this absent in your life?
… though regardless if he was or wasn’t, it was too late to dwell on it now, seeing as you were a grown woman and capable and your father was grateful that you at least had a companion with you through the many days he wasn’t, and an honorable man such as kento— taking care of you and guiding you through every step of your life when he didn’t even need to be asked, his willingness to do it and overlooking your reckless habits reading numbers to your father.
and even more so now as he leaned against his studies stone balcony ledge from above, it overlooking the entirety of your garden plus the acres of land he owned during the annual dinner party he put on for the business, kento sitting peacefully on a lawn chair with you in his lap while drinking glasses of sparkling champagne, soft echoing laughs and giggles heard from below as you enjoyed each others company away from the bustling crowds and nosy relatives.
it was a pleasing sight, to say the least.
and it was exactly why your father was going to give his business to kento when the time came, because when given the choice between gluttony and love, kento chose love.
he chose you.
“i’m thinking of planting tiger lilies soon.” you hummed, your head resting on kento’s shoulder as he delicately ran a hand down your back, sipping his champagne. “it’s almost their season… right?”
“i believe so, yes.” he nodded. “i think that’s a great idea.”
“thanks!” you cheesed, running the tip of your index finger absentmindedly over the rim of your glass. “will you help me? i need your big manly arms to carry the soil out from the flower shop tomorrow hehe.”
he chuckled, tracing his fingers gingerly over your upper arm. “i’ll pick it up for you in the morning sweetheart. don’t concern yourself with it.”
you smiled to yourself, cheeks warm as you pressed a kiss to his cheek in gratitude.
“i am concerned about something else though…”
his brows pinched, lowering the glass from his lips and looking at you in concern.
“what is it?”
“when we’re gonna pick our wedding date—”
kento laughed boastfully and shook his head, setting down his champagne glass on the little table next to him and settling his hand over your thigh, the material of your classy black dress smooth under his touch.
“you asked me this just last night my love.”
“okay so?” you grinned. “you don’t want me to be your precious wife? the birth giver of your offspring?—”
“i never said that—”
“because i could y’know.” you caressed his jaw with your thumb. “i could be your wife and be the mother of your children… isn’t that what you want?”
with all of his heart.
“it’s what i want at least.” you pouted, and kento smiled handsomely, the vision of you soaked in the rays of the setting sun before him a lethal one as he felt his heart rattle against his chest.
“me promising to take care of you has marriage included above all else my love.” he spoke gently. “you will be my bride someday, i assure you.”
you stared at him warmly, your cheek falling to rest against his as you placed your hand on his chest and over his white crisp button up.
“i also assure you that you’ll continue to be happy and protected, alright?” he squeezed your thigh. “just because i’m not your bodyguard anymore doesn’t mean my duties are done with.”
you nodded against him, the slight prickling cold wind brushing against your skin as the stunning sun continued to set.
“you’re a good man, ken.” you murmured. “and i love you.”
and that was another truest of truths.
because as he reiterated that same three worded phrase back to you and held you closer to his built frame, grabbing his blazer from the arm rest and draping it over your goose bumped filled shoulders, and with a tender kiss to your lips?
it was obvious that kento nanami was born and raised to be just that.
a good man.
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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
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hexhomos · 21 hours ago
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i mean. pastel gay viktor is also very attached to sky for some reason
"Sky" is the Hexcore manipulating him into wanting more power and feeding his loneliness. This was actually ALSO confirmed by christian linke via audio interview lol:
In his 'saviour' skin Viktor is at peak controlled-by-hubris form, blind to the harm he's doing and working up into the big world brainwashing plan. He's act2 Viktor, the rest of his arc in this show will still happen. During a stream Amanda has also mentioned Viktor is hopelessly projecting the relationship he had with Jayce onto the fake hallucination sky; it's interesting to note Viktor gives up on his humanity when Jayce rejects him in ep8, and that is also when fake sky disappears.
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It was literally a beard all along.
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trashratsaws · 2 days ago
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I just wanna talk about the fact that the runestone became literally embeded into Jayce's skin when he accepted his mission. His destiny to save Viktor from himself became literally inseperable from his actual physical mortal shell. He was going to save Viktor no matter what. The fact that this runestone was handed to him by Viktor and it's a symbol of the love that Viktor has for him that spans literally across the multiverse - he carries that within him. The fact that when it first happens he thinks that Viktor is gone, "my partner died in this room", and we perceive it as this parasitic thing that symbolizes his obsession with destroying magic (and Viktor) when in fact, we see him later in the arcane space with Viktor and he removes it so effortlessly as if it was never any burden at all and hand it to Viktor - a physical embodiment of his love for him exactly as he is, having carried it as a part of himself for all that time. He hands it to VIktor - he shows Viktor his love, as pure and uninhibited by flaws as it is - and it almost seems like Viktor can't handle it by himself, and it literally brings him back to his true imperfect mortal self, and they hold it together, their love for each other, forever.
Also the fact that their final scene together, floating together in the arcane, mirrors the first moment they cracked hextech together and they're floating up in the air. A few people have pointed that out already but I haven't seen anyone mention the fact that while they're floating, Viktor doesn't need his cane. Viktor perceived magic as something that would free him from his mortal coil from the very beginning. It equalized them. And in the end, when they hold their love for each other together, it is clear that they were equal all along. It wasn't magic that made Jayce consider Viktor an equal it was love. Love inextricable from the confines of mortal flesh I'm fine i'm fine it's cool i'm fine..
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pellucid-constellations · 2 days ago
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Fable - After
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Your wings were gone. The healing process would teach you much about yourself, but it would teach Azriel, too. Does it matter, in the end?
Word count: 7k
Warnings: Angst, injury, symptoms of depression (including difficulty eating)
a/n: This is part of a mini-series and the other parts can be found in the link below. Sorry this is literally so long lol. Debating on adding another chapter to the end because I obviously have a lot to say! Also, I won't be posting an update for about a week because I'll be traveling, so I hope this long chapter holds you over. Thank you :)
Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)
~~
You woke as the sun did. Yellow light made an imprint behind your eyelids and the grogginess that immediately followed let you know that this was not the first time you had been awake. Sleeping through the night had become a luxury not afforded to you. 
You clenched the pillow at your cheek between your fingers and tried to pull at the loose threads of sleep that were escaping you. 
Someone was in your room. 
Someone was always in your room these days, but this morning, you knew it was Azriel. You could feel the whisps of his shadows making barely-there strokes along your back, and his scent was unmistakable. If it was Azriel today, they didn’t expect you to talk. When they wanted you to try and speak, they sent Cassian or Mor or even Feyre on the odd occasion. 
They didn’t expect you to talk when it was Azriel. 
You supposed everyone thought you were mad at him. Truthfully, part of you was mad at him. If he had just opened his eyes once over the last hundreds of years, he would have seen that you were right there—that you were more than a responsibility for him to look after. That you were a woman in love with him and he was a fool for taking so long to notice. 
But another part of you felt that you couldn’t blame him. Azriel had never had much luck in the romance department, and you’d always chalked that up to self-sabotage. He seemed to go after women he knew he couldn’t have and only assumed late-night trysts with those he could, so you couldn’t expect much out of him. And how was he to know that you pined after him? It wasn’t as if you’d ever made any kind of move. 
But Elain had so enamored him and you were so angry at that part. Because you had been there and he had never taken the leaps and bounds he had with her. 
He had left you in that camp, so ready to believe your lie to appease her. 
You were the biggest fool of all. 
In actuality, neither of those parts mattered. There wasn’t some internal strife that fought against your sleep and made you question your feelings. You weren’t mad at Azriel. You weren’t mad at anyone or anything. You felt empty. 
You gave up on sleep, breathing heavily through your nose and squinting your eyes into the sun that peaked through your curtains. Your back ached, and even more, the insurmountable pressure on your chest was amplified by the bandages that wrapped around from behind you. They made it difficult to breathe. 
No infection had set in. It had been two and a half weeks since the incident, and Madja cleared you to begin moving around a few days ago and noted that you were “out of the woods, medically.” Everyone looked relieved as if that news had changed anything. To them, you supposed it did. You would live. That was good. 
Azriel knew you were awake, you were sure of it. You heard his chair groan as if he were leaning forward in it, and his shadows had begun to traipse around your head, weaving in and out of your hair and blocking the light from your eyes. 
He would try to get you to eat, look at you with those pitying eyes, and apologize when you could barely sit up and hold out a plate as if you were going to eat it. You hadn’t met his gaze since you woke up and there was more than just resentment behind that. There was shame—you were so ashamed of what you had become. What you had let happen. 
Maybe that was another reason why you felt so empty. How could Azriel even look at you as anything other than broken? When you were whole—when you had your wings—there was an irrational part of you that considered you had a chance with the Shadowsinger if he would just see you. 
There was nothing to see now. 
“Are you awake?” Azriel asked, keeping his voice low in the quiet room. You nodded against the pillow, face still turned from his view. The chair groaned once again. “Are you hungry?” 
No head shake. It was a frequent question that you hated being asked. 
Azriel’s footsteps were soft against your carpet. He kneeled beside your bed and attempted to catch your fleeting gaze, but you found a spot on the floor and kept it there. 
“Can you try?” he prompted. His textured fingers brushed the hair from your eyes. “Not even at the table. I’ll have the House bring you something here.” 
You pressed your lips together and fought off the burning in your nose. 
“Please, y/n.  I know you’re angry with me—I know. But please, just try to eat something.” 
Angry at him—anger wasn’t even in your repertoire at the moment. But he sounded so desperate, as did every other member of your family, and you didn’t want the let them down more than you already had. You shut your eyes and nodded, resigned. 
You built up the strength to prop yourself up on your arms, but that’s where you stopped. Your center of gravity had been completely ripped from you. Anytime you moved without your wings, it felt like free-falling from a mountain. Madja had offered—several times since physically clearing you—to come and get you back on your feet, but the motivation wasn’t there. 
You couldn’t imagine walking without the weight at your back. 
And you had avoided every reflection known to man; seeing yourself would be too much. 
“I have you,” Azriel encouraged, holding you at your waist as he twisted your body up. “Almost. There we go, angel” —he positioned you between pillows that hadn’t been on your bed before— “How’s that? Is it alright?” 
Humiliation felt like a hot knife. You nodded and found a spot on the bed to focus on. You could feel Azriel’s lingering gaze and he hesitated before placing a bowl of broth on a small platter before you. 
“Is that okay?” 
You nodded again, biting the inside of your lip. Your back ached. 
“Do you want me to leave?” 
You nodded. 
Azriel hesitated once more, rocking back on his heels before clearing his throat and letting the door softly shut behind him. The tears came then, and you were so tired of crying. 
~~
Azriel’s POV
Outside of your room, Azriel’s forehead was pressed against the wood of your door. The intricate carvings imprinted his right palm as he kept it pressed there as well, and Azriel had to breathe through his nose to calm himself. 
He was at a loss. 
He didn’t blame you for not speaking to him, but you wouldn’t speak to anyone. You wouldn’t get out of bed unless it was Mor or Feyre lifting you for a bath and you wouldn’t leave your room at all. They had all expected this—planned for a long healing process—but you were so… lifeless. 
Gods, he was helpless. You wouldn’t even look at him. 
Azriel clenched his jaw and tried to listen for the clink of the spoon against the bowl when a hand on his back startled him. Because that was another thing—he’d been off his game since you got hurt, completely useless as a spy. 
“How is she?” Cassian. Cassian was just as worried as Azriel, but Azriel was pretty sure you were looking him in the eye at least. “Get her to talk?” 
“No,” Azriel breathed through a constricting throat. He turned to meet his brother’s face. He was sure Cassian still held some resentment towards him, but he’d apologized for his outburst when you arrived at the House. Apologized, but not entirely forgiven. 
Cassian sighed and rubbed at his jaw. “Is she at least eating?” 
“She agreed to eat. I left her with some soup. She wanted me to leave.” 
“She say that?” 
“I asked and she nodded.” 
Cassian kissed his teeth and curled his wings in tighter. “Have you… talked to her?” 
Azriel had to fight the urge to scoff, throwing his brother an incredulous look. “Obviously I talk to her, Cassian. I don’t stand in her room and motion at things.” 
In response, Cassian did not fight the urge to roll his eyes. “I mean actually talk to her, Azriel. About what happened. You finding her. Her lying and you not being there. I know it was one of the only missions at the camps she’s been at without you there. That means something, no?” 
“I don’t think she wants to talk to me at all—let alone rehash all of that.” 
“Azriel,” Cassian started, stepping forward to place a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Give her a chance to push you away. Let her be the one to do it. If you play into this fear, it might confirm things for her, and you know her mind isn’t in a good place.” 
Azriel winced. “I think you might be better to—” 
“No, Az, you. Let her eat her breakfast, give her an hour or two, and then go back in there and talk to her. I’ve already been talking to her and she won’t say a word to me. I think you’re the only person who’s been too afraid to.” 
Azriel sighed and then leaned his head back until it knocked against your door. In another life, you might’ve called out and asked who was there. But there was only silence. 
Cassian sent Azriel a look with raised brows and patted his brother twice on the shoulder before backing into the hall. He had taken four steps towards the dining room before Azriel called, “What did you mean then, about me being blind?” 
Cassian paused but didn’t turn. Azriel watched his head tilt to the side and a deep sigh escaped him. 
“Shouldn’t have said that,” Cassian muttered. He started walking once more. “Just—think a little more.”
~~
Original POV
Breakfast was fine; you kept it down and that was the goal. 
Following breakfast, you thumbed through the books Nesta had sent to you. The action was lackadaisical and without purpose. You weren’t going to read them. 
You took breaks from staring at the wall to stare out the window instead, but that only sent waves of something heavy through your chest. The skies looked so open today, with only a few clouds and endless rays of sun. Maybe if it were raining, it wouldn’t hurt so much to look out the window. 
You were being left alone far more than usual today. 
Perhaps they had grown tired of being around a stubborn mute who refused to see the bright side of things, the “well, with your injuries it’s a miracle you’re still alive,” talks not entirely working on you. You were sure that was true, but you didn’t particularly care about the marvel it took to put you back together. 
This miracle felt hollow. 
As you were about to shut your eyes and drown the rest of the day in sleep, a small knock and the creak of your door stopped you. You snapped your gaze forward and quickly averted it when you recognized Azriel stepping in, his shadows preceding him and rushing you in circles. 
You expected him to take up his post in the chair beside your bed with a simple greeting—as he had done every visit to your room in the past weeks—so when he stood at the door and spoke, confusion and anxiety filled you. 
“Um, hello,” he began. You watched his hands fumble around each other before he cleared his throat and brought them behind his back. “I realize I haven’t given you a full opportunity to be angry with me. I’ve only offered pleasantries and… well, moved you around. I wanted to speak to you if that’s alright?” 
You fixed your gaze on the wall behind him and twisted your lips to the side in the show of a grimace. 
“You don’t have to say anything back—unless you’d like to. It would just—Can I just sit and talk?” 
You had no idea why he was asking. Everyone else in the House sat in your room and talked your ear off, asking questions they wouldn’t get an answer to and telling you about the happenings in town. Azriel was the only one who stayed silent and, now, was the only one to ask permission to speak. 
Still, you slowly nodded and shifted on the pillows. 
“Does anything hurt?” he began, stepping forward with a hesitant hand reaching towards you. “I could fix—” 
You shook your head. He sat in the chair.
There was a beat of silence—uncomfortable silence, which was odd because Azriel had always been the one you felt most comfortable being quiet around. 
When he spoke, the torture in his voice had you finally whipping around to look at his face, but his gaze was downturned. 
“This is my fault,” he said, strained and cracked as he clasped his hands tightly between his knees. “I know I’ve apologized to you since you woke up, but it’s never really been for that. You have to know how sorry I am, y/n. How much I wish I had just come with you. I always come with you.” 
The muscle in his jaw jumped. “I—I don’t understand why you’d lie about Lucien going with you. Or Cassian, for that matter. I thought it was always obvious that I’d do anything for you—that you were more important to me than a date.” 
Something twisted and pulled inside of you. You were getting the devotion you so desired from him, but it was cast behind a layer of something ugly. You were more important than a date—then why did it hurt as he spoke the words to you?
“I’m sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise. I’m sorry that you felt you had to lie for my benefit. But, y/n, I thought you were dead. I walked into that camp and I heard you scream, and I thought—I thought you were dead when I held you in my arms. There was so much blood and—” 
Azriel’s words choked and stopped in the air. He pressed his hands in prayer over his mouth and when he looked up, he caught you in your stare. You sat paralyzed, wide-eyed, as he looked at you directly. 
“Why did you lie?” he asked weakly. “I would have been there. And I’m sorry I believed you so easily, but we’ve always been honest with each other. You’ve always had me.” 
Your chin trembled. You were tired of crying, but the irony of his words hit you with full force and your wings were gone. Your wings were gone and nothing would ever be the same again. 
Your trembling jaw quickly morphed into the too-quick intake of breath that made your shoulders tremble as well. And then you were heaving in ugly sobs that hurt to let go of. You clutched at the blankets beneath you until your knuckles turned white. 
Why did you lie? 
Why did you—
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” Azriel hushed. He was on the bed now. You hadn’t heard the chair when he got up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair. He held you at your shoulders and pressed your face into his chest. This was the most anyone had touched you. Madja only healed with brief skims of her hands and everyone else moved you with panicked touches.
“Angel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” 
When you spoke—for the first time as this new person—your throat made the words unintelligible. Everything was scratchy and hoarse from misuse, but Azriel heard it. He gently pushed you back and found your eyes once more, his gaze wide and encouraging. 
You tried again, and again, each time more coherent but also filled with the tears the Shadowsinger continued to wipe from your cheeks. 
“I didn’t mean to lie,” finally ripped from your chest. “I only—only—” You hiccuped and Azriel’s face crumpled. “I just wanted you to be happy.” 
Azriel’s eyes were already glassy, but when your voice finally rang in his ears, the tears fell. He pressed your face into his chest once more. This time, you brought your hands up to clench his shirt between your fingers. And, because you were already vulnerable and because this was the first time in weeks you no longer felt numb, you whispered out, “My wings are gone,” and Azriel held you tighter. 
~~
You woke to speaking, a voice seeming to rattle in your head. You couldn’t remember falling asleep, only knowing it must have been a productive sleep because you did not feel weighed down. Your back throbbed, as it typically did after sleep, but there was no heaviness at your chest and you felt rested. 
Another voice in the room sounded off, and you kept your eyes shut as you tried to piece together the words. 
“—to walk. Important for her health—too much time—” 
The voice rumbling your head then said, “She might not be ready. We shouldn’t push her.” 
“She will never be ready, Azriel.” Rhysand, you deduced, the conversation in the room becoming more clear. “But, as Madja has said, if we don’t try to get her at least out of this room, she’ll be stuck in her head. Just try to get her to the balcony. Start with that.” 
“Rhysand—” 
“Don’t Rhysand me. It’s almost been three weeks. Her back is nearly healed. That’s not what we’re worried about now.” 
“And what are we worried about?” Azriel bit back. You were on his chest. Hands were on your waist.
The room lulled into a tense pause, the echo of Azriel’s near growl punctuating the silence. 
The door opened and closed, someone’s footfall departing. 
“You’ve scared off our healer, Azriel,” Rhysand noted with a mock scold. Azriel let out a small scoff. “We are all worried about her, Az. I know it feels… maybe like it’s you against the world, but it’s not. We need to get her up and moving. Her headspace isn’t good.” 
Azriel shifted you in his arms. “Fine.” 
“And Madja needs to come back in to change her dressings.” 
Your hair was moved behind your ear. “Fine.” 
Rhysand let out a tortured sigh. 
~~
Azriel’s POV 
Azriel was going to try today. 
He said that yesterday, but yesterday, you had let him coerce you into sitting by the window instead of in bed, and you had talked to him the entire time, so he forgot to bring it up. 
A large part of Azriel was afraid of pushing you—afraid that you would close up again and refuse to look at him. But he knew Rhys and Madja and everyone else in this House was right. You needed to start making progress. You needed to be able to live some semblance of a normal life without your wings. 
It was strange to see you without them. The pit in his chest grew each time you moved to accommodate them. You would shift in bed or reach around to reposition the fantom limb and realization would come before the dread. Sometimes that was it for the day, you wouldn’t speak anymore. Azriel would read to you when that happened. 
You had started to talk to the rest of the circle, which Azriel was mostly glad for, but the smallest bout of protectiveness had somehow dug its way into his heart. When he would walk into your room to find you chatting with Cassian or listening to Rhys, Azriel would have to pause at the territorial feeling that temporarily consumed him. He figured it was only because you were still hurt. That would fade. 
When he came in today, you were alone, and Azriel felt relieved. For a moment. 
You were already awake and looked well-rested, which was detrimental to his plan of asking you while you were half asleep. You set your book down to stare up at him, and even the fact that you were reading was not lost on him. 
You were making progress. This was part of progress.
“Good morning, y/n,” Azriel greeted, standing at the foot of your bed. 
The action already made you nervous. You eyed the chair beside you and glanced back at him. “Hi, Az.” 
Azriel’s lash fluttered at the sound of your voice, still so fresh after weeks of silence. You were meeker than you once sounded, unsure and small. 
Azriel took in a breath before asking, “How’s today?”
“Today is good,” you replied, words slow. 
Azriel spied the remaining badges peeking out from the top of your shirt. You needed this. “I think we should walk today.” 
Silence consumed the room. Your lips parted as you stared at him, and Azriel immediately wanted to eat his words. Another beat of silence. And then another. He tried desperately not to shift weight between his feet lest he look antsy or unsure. 
You blinked, twice, and then stared down at your fingers as they rested in your lap. 
“I know it will be difficult,” Azriel tried, speaking low. “But I’ll be here. We don’t have to go far. A few steps, that’s all I’m asking.” 
You pressed your thumbnail into your palm, brows furrowed. You hadn’t smiled, Azriel realized, not since before. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips before you spoke. 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” Azriel asked, bending down to catch your gaze unsuccessfully. 
You blinked back up at him. “Okay, I’ll try.” And then, in a much lower tone, as Azriel walked to your side, you grumbled, “Not as if I could get any lower than I am now.” 
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” you replied, reaching for his outstretched hands. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 
Azriel decided to revisit that later. He wouldn’t pass up this opening you had provided, even though his heart ached at what you’d insinuated. He held your hands in his own and leaned forward as you shifted yourself to the side, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. 
Already, the disorientation on your face was difficult to stomach. You swayed backward with a pinched expression and your nostrils flared in frustration, but Azriel only held your hands firm and steady. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” he comforted, allowing his thumb to brush your knuckle. “Anything hurt?”
You shook your head, your lips pressed in a tight line. Azriel forced himself into your field of vision and nodded, softly counting to three as your eyes darted quickly between both of his. As your legs straightened and Azriel’s hands held you up, you refused to break the connection. Azriel wouldn’t be the one to break it. 
You were shaky on your feet and completely unbalanced, but you were standing, and that was all Azriel could ask for. He gripped your hands tighter as your breathing deepened, the struggle evident on your face. 
“Feel okay?” Azriel asked. 
“No,” you grimaced. “But keep going,” you breathed out. 
“Okay, okay. Start with your right. I won’t let go of you.” 
And you did as he asked, albeit with a small groan and a look up at the ceiling. You abandoned the frustration in favor of staring directly at your feet and white-knuckling the grip on Azriel’s hands as you swayed and brought your right foot forward. The moment you placed it down you wobbled on it and had to right yourself three times, causing one of Azriel’s hands to come around your waist. 
You gritted your teeth but continued with your left foot with some encouragement from Azriel. He stepped back with each step you took forward, his hands glued to your body to correct the mistakes from your core. You made it six steps and Azriel was elated. He let out a small, breathy laugh. 
“You’re incredible,” he deemed. 
And it was so, so small, but the scoff-like laugh you offered was accompanied by a minuscule half-smile, and Azriel was over the moon. You looked up at him, a sarcastic upturn of your eyes lighting them up, and Azriel was struck then. 
Mate. 
Mate. 
It was so obvious, so clear. There was never anything but this. But you. 
You were meant to be his and he yours. Years of this pull to you, and he always thought it to be one of friendship. He’d always loved you, always, but he’d never humored the possibility of anything more. You’d seen him in his teen years. Gods, you’d seen him in his twenties when he was terribly full of himself without the credentials to be so. 
And he’d seen you through the decades of your life as well. 
But everything was so much clearer now. He’d always been protective of you, always been the first to follow you. That was part of why this had been so devastating—he’d let you down, left you alone. For another woman. 
Azriel felt his stomach lurch and then something rotten was left in his mouth. 
His mate—he’d let this happen to his mate. 
And what had he said in the store that day? When you’d asked him what would happen if he’d found his mate?
He’d said it wouldn’t matter, that Elain was bigger than a mating bond. 
Elain.
“Azriel?” Your worried tone snapped him back to the present. To the way your legs shook and your body swayed before him. He quickly scooped you up at your waist and held you close as he walked you back to the bed. 
“That’s enough for today,” he said, tucking you back into the bed. His hands were shaking. “Does anything hurt?”
“Are you okay?” you asked, and when you looked at him with your wide eyes, he was so angry at himself. 
Nothing made sense, but everything did. 
“I’m alright,” he reassured, placing a hand on the top of your head. “We need to take that slow. Your muscles need to be rebuilt along with your balance.” 
He needed to get out of this room. He needed to—
“I promise I’ll be able to do more tomorrow. You’ll… come back tomorrow, right?” 
Something was screaming at him. His shadows. They twisted and struck his ears before coming down to rest gently at your shoulders. 
“Of course I will.” 
~~
Original POV
Azriel did not come back the following day, or the day after that. 
Mor came on the first day, a smile plastered on her concerned face. She held her hands out as Azriel did and got you to walk ten steps before exhaustion made your legs shake. She sat beside your bed and went on and on about some shop in Velaris and you laid back and listened. 
You loved Mor, but it became hard to swallow when she was the one to walk through your door that morning. 
The next day, it was Cassian. 
He grinned and boasted about being the best person on the job, rounding your bed and heaving you up by your hips until you were pressed against his front. Cassian took a different approach to you relearning how to walk, placing your feet on top of his to move as he did. He was joking at first, laughter fresh in his tone, but he got serious as your brow twisted and your body swayed. 
“You got it,” he assured. He stepped back, his hands now just hovering over your hips as you balanced against him. “You’re doing great.” 
You gripped the sleeves of his shirt. “I should know how to walk,” you said through gritted teeth. “I shouldn’t have stayed in bed so long.” 
“You were healing. Resting. No one expected you to hop up and be fine, y/n.” 
“I moped for too long. This wouldn’t be so hard if I had started earlier.” 
“Hey—” 
Frustration had accumulated, building since realizing that you really were only a fraction of yourself, and that was probably why Azriel hadn’t come back. You clenched your teeth once more and pushed from Cassian’s body, finding the ground beneath your feet and ignoring the protest from the Illyrian before you—the one with his wings so tightly pressed to his back that you almost could forget they were there. Almost. 
But the action was short-lived. Cassian grappled for your waist as your body only allowed you two steps forward before you shot backward, an ache permeating down your spine as it tried to accommodate the movement. 
“Cauldron, y/n, warn a guy,” Cassian scolded, stepping you back to sit on the bed. “Did you do this with everyone or am I just special?” 
Frustration burned behind your eyes. You stayed silent as you scrubbed your hand down your face. You couldn’t even fling yourself back against the bed as you wanted, knowing that pain would radiate down your back if you did. 
You couldn’t do anything. The extra time you’d spent with Azriel had created a false sense of… something you needed to let go of. He was pitying you—that was all. You were a broken creature, and he felt responsible. 
“What was that about, huh?” Cassian asked, kneeling before you and looking up below a raised brow. 
“I’m broken,” you admitted, resolute and small. “That’s why Azriel won’t come back, isn’t it? I can’t walk. I’m not how I was. I let this happen to me. I should know how to walk.” 
Cassian’s tongue clicked as his head tilted to the side. “No, y/n, you’re not broken. You didn’t let anything happen to you. This is all—Gods, this is all a fucking mess. But the one thing you can know is that you aren’t broken. And Azriel—he’s dealing with something right now. He’s not avoiding you because you’re broken.” 
You stared back at him, the empty feeling slowly creeping back into your chest. You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded when Cassian gave you an expectant look. You would act as if you believed him, and the following day, when Azriel stepped through your door, maybe it felt a bit easier to lie. 
“Did you handle what you needed to?” you asked him, your hands cemented against his own as he guided you around your room. The words came out strained as your balance faltered. 
Azriel took a moment before responding, “You could say that.” 
“Was it Elain?” You hadn’t meant to ask the question, and the bitterness in your tone was new to even you, but it came out all the same. You avoided Azriel’s gaze as it snapped to your face. 
“Some of it,” he admitted. His eyes burned into you. You stared at your feet as you stepped. “But only some.” 
“How’s that working out for you?” 
“Y/n.” 
You stepped again. And again. It was easier each day, but that also spelled a more difficult future. The further you walked, the sooner you would have to come to terms with your wings being gone. Staying in bed helped you avoid that truth. 
You ignored Azriel’s call and stepped again. 
“Look at me. Please.” 
You shifted your jaw to the side but glanced up through your lashes and gave in to his request. Azriel’s beseeching expression made you falter. 
“I can never apologize fully for not being there that night. With Elain—“ Azriel paused, wincing. “I’ve been blind to what’s important. You tried to tell me. Everyone tried to tell me. I was so caught up in a chance at happiness. It was never about Elain.” 
You had no reply. Your legs were shaking. 
Azriel seemed to take a different approach. “I meant what I said before—that you’re incredible. You’ve pushed yourself so hard and we’re all proud of you.” 
“Is that why you didn’t come back when you said you would?” you asked. The tinge of bitterness remained. “Because you’re proud of me?” 
“I had to—y/n, there were things—“ 
“Just say you’ve been visiting out of pity, Azriel. That would make this easier.” 
You gripped his hands harder as your wave of frustration made walking more difficult. You grunted slightly and Azriel took that as a sign to shift your weight from your feet, holding you to his body even as you struggled against him, even as you averted your gaze. 
Gods, this was better when you kept your mouth shut. 
“I do not pity you. Y/n—y/n. I don’t, do you hear me?” 
“Why?” you stressed, pushing your hands against his chest in a futile escape attempt. “Why, Azriel? Too busy running after Elain to make room for it?” 
“Don’t say that. I already told you—“
“Just let me go.” 
“No.”
“Oh, so now you listen to me.” 
“Y/n—“ 
“This was already humiliating, Azriel. And then you said you’d be back and you weren’t,” you accused. “You got weird when I finally started walking and I know you only came in here because Cassian told you about yesterday.” 
“Yesterday?” he questioned. 
You rolled your eyes. It was so much easier to be angry than hurt. “When I asked about you. I know he can’t keep a secret.” 
Azriel only shook his head. “He hadn’t told me anything. I needed a few days because I’m the weak one. Me. I needed distance because I’m reminded, every time I see you, that I could have prevented this. Im selfish.
“And Elain,” he trailed off, hazel eyes flicking between yours. “I had to tell her that I’ve been a fool. I won’t be pursuing her anymore.” 
Your brows furrowed. You gave up fighting against Azriel, but he kept both of your hands in a grip at his chest, his other arm locked at your lower back. This felt like a weight lifted from your chest, but it wasn’t that easy. None of this was easy. 
“Why?” 
Azriel paused. 
Something flashed across his face, indecipherable to even you, but he covered it just as quickly.
“It wasn’t supposed to be her. I’ve always known that.” 
More silence blanketed the room. Your earlier anger melted into a white-hot embarrassment that lingered in the pit of your stomach. You’d never been one quick to anger. Azriel hadn’t even blinked an eye. 
“Can I help you back to your bed?”
You pressed your lips together. 
“I want to read with you, if that’s alright?” 
Your head turned down. You nodded. 
~~ 
Azriel’s POV 
Azriel couldn’t tell you. 
He couldn’t. 
It was clear that no bond lit up your chest as his did, and that made sense to Azriel. You’d been through a loss few could ever imagine. You were stuck in your head for most of the day, and then angry or numb for the rest of it. The only time you seemed to find reprieve was during conversation that had nothing to do with anything of meaning. 
Azriel would take what he could get. So he read beside you and helped you walk and he didn’t tell you that a bond connected your souls. 
How could he even broach the subject, anyway? When he had so openly pined after another woman? 
This was not the time. 
You needed to focus on yourself. He would focus on you and you would focus on yourself. 
It had been about a month since you began walking again, and two since your injury. He counted each day. On the second week of the third month, Azriel saw you in the hallway. Feyre walked alongside you as you trailed your fingers on the wall, and while it gave the air of a casual stroll, he could see his High Lady’s hand hover behind you. While he took effortful breaths to calm his excitement, his shadows did not. 
“Azriel, what terrible timing!” Feyre scolded, batting away the shadows as they stormed you. “I finally got her out here and you're going to knock her over with air.”
“I apologize,” he spoke, but he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. Despite your unsteady gait, you lit up as his shadows swirled around you, displacing your hair and clothes as you went. And then you laughed; a small sound, but one that Azriel felt in his chest. 
“Call them back,” you giggled. Azriel’s face warmed along with his chest. “I’m going to collapse into this wall if you don’t.” 
“Azriel,” Feyre called, and Azriel hadn’t noticed he was staring. He blinked and shook his head as if to clear it and tried to call his shadows back. And then tried again. 
They were stuck to you. 
“I really am trying,” he explained, taking a step closer. “They seem attached.” 
“I can’t imagine why,” Feyre groaned. She shot the Shadowsinger a look and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, tugging you into her side. “Idiot bats.” 
As the pair walked past him, his shadows still whispering along your arms, you hooked your chin over your shoulder, casting him a lingering gaze. It was odd to see your face with such clarity, no wings clouding his view. Even more odd was the uncomfortable way you walked; the leaning into Feyre’s side was more necessary than for the show. 
The strangest thing, however, was the tug in his chest that left him breathless. Every time you looked at him, that thread in his chest tugged and yanked and begged him to get closer. 
But this wasn’t the time. 
Maybe it wouldn’t be the time for several decades. 
Not after he let you down in such a way. 
He would spend the rest of his life making up for that, even if you were none the wiser to the bond between you. He would protect you for the rest of your life, as he was meant to do from the beginning. That feeling, the urge, only swelled as you turned forward and continued your walk with your High Lady, Azriel still hearing the remnants of your laugh in the hall as you went. 
A shadow broke away from your figure and lopped around his ear, reminding him that he actually did have a destination before he became so enraptured by you. It whispered to him hurriedly and Azriel had to break his gaze from your retreating back as he made his way to Rhysand’s study. Each step had him increasingly irritated; he should have been with you the day you decided to leave your room. 
He bit back his vexation when he felt the tension in the room. 
“Azriel. Good,” Rhysand greeted. The door swung shut. “Sit. We need to talk.” 
“That doesn’t sound promising,” Azriel remarked, shifting his leathers as he took a wide seat on the chair across Rhysand’s desk. 
From the couch beside him, Cassian let out a humorless chuckle. “I think you’ll find this quite promising, brother.” 
“As long as it’s quick. I have other things to attend to today.” 
Cassian sent a wry grin in Rhysand’s direction. “I told you he’d see her in the hall.” He turned back to Azriel. “Packed schedule today, Az?” 
“You know better, Cassian,” Rhysand chided, the lightness in his tone betraying the scolding nature of his words. 
“Is there an actual point to this discussion?” Azriel deadpanned. 
“Bond feeling a little loose?” 
Azriel threw him a dirty look. It hadn’t taken a genius to recognize the change in Azriel the day the bond snapped, his heightened aggression paired with the scent of you still lingering on his clothes had Cassian immediately clocking the Shadowsinger. He’d looked surprised—gaurded and surprised. Rhysand looked as if he’d been the one waiting for the bond to snap, and Azriel had sent him a myriad of questions. 
Namely: Why the hell wouldn’t he tell him he thought you were his mate? 
“Don’t taunt him, Cass.” 
“Where’s the fun in that?” 
“Are we getting to the point?” Azriel drawled. The desire to get back to you itched beneath his skin. Maybe you’d made it to the kitchen and he’d sit at the table beside you. 
Rhysand sighed. He tapped his finger against a piece of parchment laid on the desk. “I have correspondence from the northeast camp. From the spies you have placed there.” 
Azriel sat up in his chair. “Why wouldn’t they speak to me directly?” 
“I had them turn all communication over to me. You’re too close to this and I wouldn’t have you acting rashly and putting yourself in unnecessary danger.” 
“They are my spies—” 
“I didn’t do it to undermine you, Azriel,” Rhysand interrupted, raising a hand in surrender. “You can’t tell me that if you got word her attackers were found you wouldn’t immediately rush into that camp without a plan or even a weapon.” 
Azriel breathed hard from his nose and clenched the wooden chair arms between scarred fingers. 
In the silence, Rhysand continued. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, brother. But you understand why that was a risk I couldn’t take.” 
“What did the correspondence say?” Azriel gritted out, his mood depleted of the lightness you had brought. 
Rhysand eyed Cassian on the other side of the room before fixing his gaze on his Spymaster. “The escaped attackers have been identified. They aren’t contained, and no one even knows where they are, but we know who they are.” 
Fiery rage met Azriel’s soured mood.
If only he knew of the terrors that would continue to fall. 
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galactic-magick · 3 days ago
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Maybe in Another Universe, You're Still the Man I Love: Viktor x Reader
Summary: You get sent to the same alternate timeline with Ekko and Heimerdinger, and you find out just how wonderful your life could've been.
Words: 2.1k
Author's Notes: Yeah so that finale sent me into deep grief and writing is the only way I can heal I fear. I hope you enjoy this interpretation of what Viktor could be doing in the alternate timeline.
“Are you alright, darling?”
Your vision comes into focus, though your head is still pounding. You’re extremely nauseous, feeling like your body is not your own as you become aware of the all-too-familiar voice that just spoke to you.
You’re sitting on a desk in an Academy classroom, journals and various papers surrounding you. The sun is shining through the windows, cascading gold onto the other desks and tables. It’s a peaceful, simple sight. Something that feels so wrong for precisely that reason.
“I don’t have another class for a while, you can talk to me,” Viktor says, brushing his fingers against your face. “Care to tell me why you’re looking at me like that?”
You suppose you look like you’ve seen a ghost, which isn’t so far from the truth. You must be dreaming—maybe hallucinating—anything to explain how this isn’t real.
“I…” you start, failing to find the words to say.
-
You storm into the lab, locking your eyes on the empty hexcore cocoon, then at Jayce.
“Where the fuck is he?”
“I don’t know!” Jayce fires back at you, clearly just as distraught as you are. “He woke up and told me he needed to leave me and this place. I have no idea where he went!”
“Why didn’t you follow him?” you scream, your mind spinning. Who knows how the hexcore changed him, he could literally be anywhere.
“He didn’t want me to! What don’t you understand?” Jayce slumps back into his chair, his face in his hands. As soon as he notices a tear fall down your cheek, his tone softens. “Look, I...we both know he’s been different since he started messing with the hexcore. He had told me to destroy it...but I couldn’t. And now he’s even more different. I’m so sorry,”
“Jayce…” you walk towards him. “I’m not blaming you for anything that’s happened. He’s been pushing both of us away for a long time. I guess...I just thought maybe when he woke up he’d love me again like he used to. Did he even ask about me?”
Jayce shakes his head, and your heart sinks even further.
-
“I think I’m dreaming,” you finally say, and Viktor tilts his head. “This...this isn’t real. We’re not like this, we haven’t been like this in a long time. You’re not...what are you here, a professor?”
He cups your face and kisses your forehead, “Darling, I don’t think you’ve been getting enough sleep, you’re talking nonsense,”
“No, no, no,” you jump off the desk and pace around the room. “If this isn’t a dream, then where am I? Some sort of other reality?”
“You mean to say you believe...this is not your world?” Viktor takes in your words intently.
“Well in my world, you fell out of love with me in favor of your work, and then you nearly died and got severely mutated by the hexcore. So yeah, I’d say things are pretty different,”
He raises an eyebrow, “Hex...core?”
“You don’t have that here?”
“Seemingly not,”
You sigh, perching yourself back on the desk, “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“No, I...I have theorized the possibility of alternate universes before, but I never thought I would come face to face with it in my lifetime,” he starts writing on the wall chalkboard. “I see no reason not to believe you. After all, my wife of this universe would probably not be saying these things,”
“We’re married?”
“Of course. Now tell me, what else is different in your universe?”
-
You’ve tried to find him everywhere—going all the secret places the two of you would go in the past, and asking people if they’ve seen him both topside and bottom. There’s no signs, not even a clue. He doesn’t want to be found.
You make your way back to Jayce’s lab, surprised to see Heimerdinger and a young man you don’t recognize with him. They fill you in on their concern about wild runes showing up around the city, and their plan to check on the hexgates. You’re desperate for anything to get your mind off Viktor, so you go along with them.
You’ve never been to the source of the hexgates before, and it’s even more grand than you imagined. One thing could go wrong and the entire thing would explode, but it’s precisely the potential of destruction that makes it all the more fascinating.
That is, until it becomes entirely unpredictable.
Your surroundings change at the blink of an eye—warped visuals and sounds you can’t make out. You scream for the others, but no one can hear.
-
You do your best to describe all the important events and details of your timeline, while Viktor takes notes on the chalkboard and compares what you say to his timeline. He seems particularly interested in his inventions in your timeline, and his partnership with Jayce—who’s no longer alive in his timeline.
“He died in an explosion here at the academy several years ago, it was a tragic accident that also killed a young girl from the undercity. He was a friend and a brilliant mind,” he pauses. “We...actually named our son after him.”
Your eyes widen, overwhelmed by this possibility of what could’ve been, “We have a son?”
“We do. And he’s perfect,” Viktor smiles softly. “You really are from a different time, aren’t you?”
You nod, trying to hold back tears. Why does this reality’s version of you get to be happy? Why does this Viktor get to dodge corruption and the hands of hubris?
Viktor gazes once again on the chalkboard notes, looking for patterns and causes for the differences in your timelines. Would he have reached the same fate if Jayce was still alive? What caused the Undercity to heal and thrive in his timeline but not in yours? Was this hextech you speak of really so destructive?
You are the same person he fell in love with, there’s no doubt in his mind about that, but you’ve been significantly more hurt than the Y/N he knows.
He steps close to you again, wiping the tears from your face and pulling you into him, “I’m so sorry your version of me has taken a different path.”
You sob into his chest, gripping his clothes. He runs his fingers through your hair and rubs your back, soothing you as if you’re his own.
But you’re not his. This isn’t your life.
You pull away, taking a deep breath, “As much as I want to stay here, I can’t keep taking over the consciousness of the me in this world. I need to find the others,”
“I don’t know if it’s possible for you to get back,” he says. “You say you got here through hextech, and that was never invented here.”
“We’ll find a way,” you run to the window, looking out to get a gauge of where you are. Heimerdinger might have landed somewhere here in the Academy too, and Ekko probably went back to the Undercity. But Jayce—if he’s dead in this universe—where would he be?
“Before you go,” Viktor places a hand on your shoulder. “Would you like to meet our son?”
Anxiety washes over you, your body going numb from the prospect. Would it only hurt you more to see a life that you could’ve created?
“Don’t you have more classes to teach, professor?” you smile, trying to turn your nervousness into something lighthearted.
“I’ll cancel for today. It’s about the time you usually pick him up from school anyway,”
He grabs his cane with one hand and takes your hand with the other, posting a quick note on his door as you leave.
-
You sit on a bench outside the elementary school, your heart pounding. This child is going to run out that building any minute, eager to see the mother he’s always known.
But you’re not her. You didn’t carry him, birth him, or raise him. You don’t have the same memories and experiences.
But you must pretend that you do.
You know which one he is immediately. He’s a perfect combination of yours and Viktor’s features, just like you’d imagined. His smile is contagious, and he wastes no time jumping into your arms.
“Look what I made at school today, Mommy!” he puts a crafty contraption in front of your face, a colorful collection of sticks and paper glued together.
“That’s so creative, honey, I love it,” but your attention is solely focused on him, his sweet face glowing with pride and joy.
“Quite the little inventor, aren’t you?” Viktor applauds him. “What else did you learn today?”
“We did reading and spelling. I can spell family now. F-A-M-I-L-E!”
“Close, sweetheart. There’s a ‘Y’ at the end,” you laugh,
“Are you sure about that?” he says, wincing his adorable face in thought. “Whatever. I learned how to spell brother and sister too, but I don’t have any of those. How do I get one of those?”
Viktor chuckles, “I’ll talk about it with your Mommy, how about that?”
“Okay!” he jumps up and starts walking home with the two of you.
-
What if I stayed? You wonder.
You’re playing with your son on the living room floor, with toys mostly made by Viktor himself. The house is small but cozy, a home you wish was really yours. What if you just stay in this dream reality forever?
What if you never find the others? What if there really is no way to get back?
But no, that wouldn’t be fair to the you of this reality. She’s the one who has this life, not you. Besides, Viktor and his son deserve their wife and mother back.
You hear a knock on the door, and Viktor goes to open it.
“Oh, Viktor, it is so good to see you.”
Your head swivels instantly towards the yordle in the entryway, “Heimerdinger! You found me!” you join Viktor at the door, “Where’s Ekko and Jayce?”
“I have not found Jayce as of yet, but I did find Ekko and sent him back to his timeline about a week ago. We found some hextech fragments and were able to use them to jump through time and space.”
“So...I can get home too?”
“As soon as you’re ready. We built the machine in a young girl’s lab in the Undercity,” he looks between you, then Viktor, and finally your son. His attitude of urgency dissipates as he begins to understand. “But...I could not blame you if you want to stay longer.”
Your son Jayce comes running to join you, grabbing onto your leg, “Who’s this guy, Mommy?”
“This is Professor Heimerdinger, he used to work at the Academy,” you pat his head, “Your dad used to be his assistant.”
“I’m sure you already have a brilliant mind, my boy,” Heimerdinger says. “Your parents must be proud.”
Little Jayce giggles.
“Actually, I would very much like to see this new invention you’ve built, Professor,” Viktor speaks up. “I’m now quite intrigued by the prospect of other universes.”
“I have no rule against you observing, Viktor, but I’m sure you understand I must destroy it after we all get back. It is too dangerous to be left here unsupervised,” Heimerdinger’s tone becomes more serious. “I’m sure Y/N has told you of the destruction hextech caused in our universe, especially to you.”
“Of course, Professor. I understand.”
-
You’ve never seen the Undercity look this beautiful.
It seems that the other version of you comes here often, so many people wave to you and little Jayce automatically runs off with some kids his age to play.
You meet a blue-haired young lady named Powder, who helped Heimerdinger and Ekko in their experiments. She looks so familiar to you, but you can’t place where you’ve seen her in your reality.
Heimerdinger explains how it works, and both you and Viktor listen intently. With everything up and running, you could go back this instant.
The pull to go back is strong, like an obligation to return to your rightful place in the universe. But the pull to stay is equally strong, as you gaze into your husband’s beautiful amber eyes that you want to find solace in forever.
“It’s your choice, my love,” Viktor says, as if reading your mind.
“I know I need to go back…” you exhale, tears welling in your eyes once again. “But I don’t know what I’m going back to,”
“I don’t know either,” he caresses your face, “But I do know you are strong in every universe,”
“I’m not,” you shake your head, “Not without you.”
“Don’t say that,” his thumbs smooth across your cheeks.
You nod, turning towards the device.
“Could you…could you kiss me one last time?” you ask.
Viktor wastes no time honoring your request, crashing his lips to yours with lasting passion. He pulls away only as you back into the circle, leaving you with one last affectionate whisper:
“I’m so fortunate to have met another version of you, my love.”
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whokilledsamara · 2 days ago
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Could you please write a mr scarletta x afab reader smut 🙏🏼 high key based on all the art of his umbrella being his member or it brings him pleasure when rubbed. Maybe where reader is riding the curved handle of rubbing it between her legs 🫣 if not thank you for taking your time to even just read this!
UMBRELLA
a Mr. Scarletella x afab!reader fic. {an: ooo when i tell you i think about this NIGHTLY}
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warnings || misuse of an umbrella, humping, riding an inanimate object, public {for Mr. Scarletella}, afab reader, smut, indirect sex
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he always made sure you had it- his umbrella. it was his entire heart and soul, literally him as a being. he trusted you enough- enough that he would leave you with it at all times. he could feel every touch from it, every time your fingers grazed the mesh. you were his human, and he would do anything to mark you as his. regardless if you gave him your name or not.
honestly, you never realized how much it really affected him. you thought all the times he would flinch as you opened the umbrella was just him being, well, him. the way his face would flush and eyes would widen as your hand held the handle, seemed normal to you. though, the more you thought about it, it all started to make sense. Mr. Scarletella was known to be weird and unsettling, but you didn't mind too much. he scared off any creatures that posed a threat to you, plus he was kinda hot-... in his own, creepy way.
it was late at night, or so you assumed- there really wasn't any way to tell time here.. but as you grew restless, tossing and turning on the makeshift bed you had, an idea came to mind. though it was rather risky,, and rather lewd, you couldn't help it. there was really no action here, and all this built up sexual tension definitely didn't help.
your eyes glare daggers at the umbrella that was perched next to your bed. a long stare at that. your thoughts kept debating whether to take the risk or not, until you finally sighed and grabbed it.
he was busy at the time, doing who knows what, but his actions paused when he felt your hands on him- his umbrella. you're supposed to be sleeping, why are you awake? his eyes narrow but he decides to carry on with whatever he was doing.
you on the other hand, were too busy shimmying off your small red panties, still debating your life choices as you rub your fingers down to your entrance, lubing your whole pussy up before shifting in a sitting position, umbrella underneath you. the stick of it was long, and slightly thick. there was a curve at the end for the handle. sighing softly, you lower your cunt on the stick part of it, rubbing your clit on the long pole. your breath instinctively hitches, a hushed whine leaving your lips. your hips move faster and faster, eyes clenching shut.
his heartbeat speed up, so fast he could hear it. his back hits the wall near him and his face turns red, hand coming up to cover his mouth. eyes still wide and staring off into space, his legs slightly trembling as he stays pressed against rhe wall.
oh.. so thats what you're doing..
meanwhile, your small moans grew heavier, pussy lubing up the pole and making it slide easier. one hand was places on the mesh of the umbrella, while the other was on the side of it, keeping you held up. your cunt was so desperately humping it, seeking as much friction as it could. unfortunately, it wasn't enough.
when he feels the pressure be pulled off, he sighs, having a hard time catching his breath as he processes what just happened. his boner was noticeable even through his raincoat, so prominent that it was impossible to cover. his eyes clench shut and he lets out a shaky breath, attempting to catch himself, his eyes widen with shock and a loud groan suddenly escapes him as he feels you actually slip onto the handle of the umbrella. his fucking cock. he drops to his knees and clenches his stomach, eyes wide and a grin that stretches ear to ear. his teeth sunk into his lip, blood seeping out. shaky breaths and whines spill from him, hair somewhat covering his face as his eyes stare off. you were gonna be the death of him.
your breath hitches and you let out a loud, pleased moan, the handle of the umbrella hitting just the right spot so deep inside of you that you almost came as soon as you started. you couldn't get enough, both your insides and clit were being stimulated from your frantic riding. your hips shuttered, moving at an impossible pace, head thrown back and mewls slipping freely from your lips. you needed it so bad, wanted to cum so desperately that you didn't care how you got it. nor did you care that you were riding a fucking umbrella.
the handle hits a perfect peak. your eyes roll back so far into your skull and you let out one last loud moan, hips sputtering and an orgasm crashing though you. the handle was still deep inside, a bit of drool sliding down your chin. your eyes dart down at the sight- a messy umbrella covered in both your juices and orgasm, but also.. semen?
oh shit.
embarrassment covers your face, realizing your mistake. you hopelessly forgot that his umbrella was practically him as a being, and you just rode it, let alone came on it. you slowly pull it out of you, an unwilling whimper leaving your lips at the feeling.
how could you possibly get out of this one..?
{ made by @whokilledsamara }
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wilddixiechild · 4 hours ago
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Lol Literally none of this is happening. Like myself, Trump voters (yes, even the voters of color) are EXTREMELY excited about the next 4 years and we hope and fully expect to get what we voted for too, tariffs and all! But whatever you gotta tell y’all’s selves to cope. The more bullshit like this that y’all spread, the more people wake up and leave that ol’ rickety democrat plantation. Keep seethin’! It’s working out for us quite well. 😉
Trump voters on tiktok are EXTREMELY mad about the following:
They just found out what tariffs are
They just found out what denaturalization is
They (particularly black and Hispanic trump voters) just found out that other trump voters are racist
Leftists and liberals don't want to be their friends (they are furious about this)
Leftists keep telling them they hope they get what they voted for (they are really mad about this too)
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thegroundsofbrooklyn · 2 years ago
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just had a dream that i went to santa fe but it turned out to just be a carbon copy of every small british town around
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zytes · 1 year ago
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this manatee looks like it’s in a skyrim loading screen
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hinamie · 3 months ago
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to moving forward
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#jjk art#yuji itadori#gojo satoru#fushiguro megumi#nobara kugisaki#itadori yuuji#megumi fushiguro#jjk spoilers#satoru gojo#jjk manga spoilers#hina.comic#before any1 says anything i KNOw his birthday is in december ik ik ik this is just 2 show some post-battle bonding after the trauma#its winter in canon n megumi's birthday has passed and he spent it being piloted like a mech so they need to celebrate Now!!#also this was technically a request lmao anon wanted megumi birthday angst hehehehhe i hope u like it <3 bc it KILLED ME DEAD#im going to collapse remember when i said this wasnt harder than the hydrangeas im having second thoughts#page 8 made me want to bash my head in#could have stuck with one flashback image could have left them monochrome could have done literally anything 2 ease the workload#but noooo the chronic overachiever in me would not allow it#rule of threes i had to include all of them and they Had to be in colour it wouldn't have hit the same if i had kept it monochrome#i needed it to look how childhood memories look i needed it to look oversaturated and hazy and fond but unmistakably Gone#it may have killed me but im so proud of this rn like from an art style perspective these megumis and yuujis r top tier by my standards#personal favourites r the first and last panel of crying megumi like not 2 pat myself on th back but expression?????? hello??????#enjoy your cake megumi you've earned it <333 sorry fr hurting ur feelings it will happen again#oh my god i can sleep tonight bless <333 and i met my 3 day deadline NICE im so good at what i do
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dyslexic-asexual · 1 day ago
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Birth is literally so bad it can give not just the person giving birth trauma (obviously) but also traumatize The Fucking Baby
Thats what I have. Its called birth trauma and the theory is that while almost nobody remembers their actual birth, there was a time when you did remember it, and that can literally shape your brain. It most often happens to especially difficult births (I had to be c sectioned bc I just... Would not come out, and like the post says I almost died), but as above, all birth is fucking difficult in some way so it can happen to literally anyone.
For me it means Im very claustrophobic, I have extreme negative reactions to pain/signs of pain like screaming, and I am extremely sensitive to birth/pregnancy/body horror topics.
Side note, one of the treatments sometimes used for birth trauma, called rebirthing/birth simulation, is very dangerous and has literally suffocated people to death.
giving birth sucks tbh. not only do you and the baby you’re birthing almost die, usually you shit yourself and often you tear your taint. then you have to push an organ out of your body (placenta) and if even a little of that remains in your body, you can hemorrhage to death or develop an infection that essentially rots your body from the inside out. even if you had a relatively “easy birth”, you bleed for weeks on end. even after that stops, your body and brain is changed for the rest of your life, the pregnancy leeched minerals from your bones, that can cause osteoporosis later. minor urinary incontinence is not uncommon, brain scans of people who gave birth show permanent changes in their brain, you’re never quite the same.
I say all of this not to say giving birth is disgusting but it is a harrowing and visceral experience. society downplays how fucking awful it is and makes it out to be a ~magical~ experience but it isn’t a magical transformative experience for everyone. it can be an extremely traumatic experience for someone who wanted to carry a pregnancy to term, much more so for someone who did not want to be pregnant in the first place or someone who knows their baby won’t survive the birth. anyway, abortion is a right. pregnancy and birth aren’t just inconvenient, it’s fucking awful.
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hattersarts · 1 year ago
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im already at the south downs cottage guys, catch up
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inkskinned · 5 days ago
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you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.
but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.
i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.
so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.
you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."
i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"
"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.
i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.
and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.
you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."
"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."
you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.
i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"
"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."
"do i die?"
you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."
"oh."
"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."
i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.
i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.
"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."
i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.
you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."
"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.
you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."
"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.
i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."
you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."
"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."
"you could always die, to be fair."
i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"
"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."
i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."
"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."
i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"
"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."
i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push my heel into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"
i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.
"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."
you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.
you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.
i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.
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egophiliac · 6 months ago
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queen of diamonds, upright + reversed 💎
I've redone this like eighty times, I have to just be done with it now and stop staring at all my mistakes oh no 🫠
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 8 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 8 spoilers#coming in well after the fact but that's what happens when the art doesn't cooperate#and i just HAD to draw something for vil's ob (re-ob?) because i loved it so much#legit put my hand over my mouth and went “oh!” when i realized what was happening#i thought it was just going to be an idia thing because. y'know. closing out his character arc from episode 6 and all#so this was like. oh! oh we're going to get ALL the inky boys!!!!!#i wonder if this is why we got a malleus flashback so early...#not to mention everyone's dreams?!#i am braced for 90% of the dreams to be kind of jokey/inconsequential because we have SO many characters to get through#and most of the time will probably be spent on our lads (literally) dropkicking their emotional problems#but i am excited to see everyone regardless!#and also kind of terrified! what on EARTH will floyd be dreaming about. do i want to know.#i do but do i want to.#man. they're probably not going to get back to it but i do wonder what silver's dream was#what was he doing when he was like 'wait a minute' and noped right out of there#lilia: here silver i made dinner :)#silver: oh boy this looks great! ...YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DAD#ouuuagh i'm still deep in the blotsauce guys and i'm loving it#come make snowangels in the ink with me it's great
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skywritingrambles · 18 hours ago
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OKAY BUT A FANFIC SHOWING SO MANY DIFFERENT VERSIONS OF JAYCE SHOWING VIKTOR THAT PEOPLE WILL LOVE HIM NOT INSPITE OF BUT REGARDLESS OF HIS DISABILITY. REGARDLESS OF WHAT HE'S DONE. REGARDLESS OF WHO HE'S BECOME. EACH AND EVERY UNIVERSE WHERE THEY FALL IN LOVE PLATONICALLY OR ROMANTICALLY AND SOMETIMES THE WORLD STILL ENDS BUT IT ALWAYS ENDS WITH THEM TOGETHER. IT DOESNT MATTER WHATS HAPPENING AROUND THEM BECAUSE THE TWO OF THEM ARE TOGETHER AND THEY'VE HEALED AND EVEN IF THE WORLD IS ENDING THEY ALWAYS HAVE NEXT TIME
Of course sometimes its so blindingly life altering for so many people. Sometimes it happens like it did in the show, where because Jayce got to Viktor when he did they saved the lives of all of Zaun and Piltover. But sometimes its something simple.
In the lab after Viktor has worked a long night, falling asleep slumped over the workbench, Jayce finding him that morning and they have a long conversation and they decide to let hextech go. In a world like the one where Ekko entered, where there was a tragedy and hextech was never authorized, but the two still meet, and simply become friends. Maybe lovers. As children, in a universe where Jayce and his mother end up in Zaun instead, and Jayce pushes Viktor to help him get rid of the poor beast Singed has been torturously keeping alive, and Shimmer is never created.
Ausshufiaoakab I love my boys. They're literally destined to find each other in every universe CANONICALLY.
I'll see you in a better tomorrow.
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