#yes I did start to cry listening to Doubt comes in

[therhythmismyblanket]

You ever think about the fact that ultimately it’s the fact that Orpheus “used to see the way the world could be - but now the way it is is all [he] see[s]” is what ultimatley lead to him turning around?

It was him losing his hope for / vision of the world changing for rhe better that leads to his and Eurydice’s demise. It’s him being unable to see anything but the state of the world as it is now, that despairs him

[theastrical]

genshin men and their way of apologising

Genshin men and their ways of apologising.

kaeya, diluc, childe, (alhaitham, zhongli, kaveh on pt.2) x reader (fem!reader diluc)

ps: it’s comfort/hurt, a bit angsty but with fluffy ending!! Also if you guys have triggers with cursing, this content has cursing/verbal scolding implications so please mind that before reading!

Kaeya:

“stop doing this and that..you’ll end up being a burden.” He shuts off the door and locks it. You were just trying to help him, and unfortunately, he doesn’t like it. This happens quiet a lot, where he closed off all part of himself in order to heal himself…that’s okay, at first, but what about you? You’re hurt and he kept you out just like that; is he here to wound your heart just like the other exes who grew apart from you?

And when you start to lose your patience, he can’t do nothing about it, right? He’s just there to hurt-hurt-and make you feel as if you in deserve of such a treatment. You cried, it felt weird to cry over kaeya. He has been sweet, yes, you never doubted once that his act are truly meant for you, but at what certain point did you do to make him immediately switch up? You didn’t know, you never know. He never wanted to communicate, that’s the problem.

“if you don’t want me to help you, that’s fine, just please kaeya…talk to me like i’m a human, not somebody you can use when you’re happy. I also need a set of time to heal.” You say that-an automatic reply set on your brain to confront him even if it’s not face to face. Now door to door-you just scold him and leave.

It took him a huge amount of time to heal. he knows what he has done can’t be undone. Listening to your cries become his worst fear, he can’t just stand in front of your eyes and say sorry, he knows that wouldn’t work. That enough explains how much he hates apologising; because his apologies always ended up with him crushing over the burden of his sins.

That’s why, the next day, in the morning when you woke up. Kaeya is already there beside your bedside. Folding your palm between his. His head on the floor.

“i’ve taken your words and…* he sighs before continuing. “Apologies don’t really matter if i don’t change my attitudes, so please, if you’re still willing to give me one more chance, can i have the privilege to change, at least, for you?”…he stays quiet for a while. “Lastly, i’m sorry, i know all i did these yesterday and these past few months weren’t tolerable. I understand if you would hate me for this.”..he looks up to you, his eyes are already watery. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He hugs you and that felt so good…

A mark on your neck was left, a few peck it took for him to finally calm down. And he looks at you with a smile, even when his eyes are puffy. “I love you..thank you for still being here.”

Diluc:

Diluc came home quite late, it was unusual and it worries you, after all, since the day you married him. He had never been this late-he always come home with a huge surprise which is food…for obvious reason (he’s wants you to eat instead of cooking him a meal since he knew how exhausting it can be).

you were just about to ring up his phone-and suddenly a slam from the door was heard. You came to the first floor and..there’s diluc! “Diluc!” You grin, as always, you warmly greeted him, because it’s your husband, it’s diluc, what more reason to make you adore him?

You tried to help him get his bag and put off his jacket…but his bag was so heavy…whatever does he put inside his bag? Why is it so h— oh no! The bag suddenly hit your coffee cup and spilled the remaining coffee to the bag…now his bag is tainted with coffee and he-who saw that scene in front of him can’t even hide his raging eyes. Before one word to spit out-he gives off a long sigh-squinting his eyes.

“Why…sigh…it’s always you, you AND YOU who makes the worst mistake OVER AND OVER AGAIN! In the WORST TIMING AS WELL, CAN YOU—“ you replied, cutting off his words. “I-i’m so sorry diluc…i’ll help you with th—“ , “CAN YOU STOP CUTTING MY WORDS? Listen to me lady, it’s not about the bag or the papers, its about your presence…why helping you when you can’t even help yourself fix these problems, you’re helpless.”

He said that like a drunk man with no sanity behind his eyes, yet, this time, he’s actually sober, so sober he already pulled off that bag from your grip... He’s losing his patience and you know his words are the truth…still it hurts way too much. Why? Because it’s diluc, the one you called husband. tears fell and you don’t know what to do. It’s like your body doesn’t know how to move.

You look at his eyes, your mind went blank. You can sense his anger, but the tears never stop from your eyes. It’s like you just got hit by a truck. You try to left the living room to the bedroom upstair. At the same time diluc realise his action-you’re already up there-on the stair.

As soon as your foot step into the bedroom. You slowly loses the ability to numb the tears. You lay down on the comfy covers and then just cry. Sniffling. Without words, just cry and cry and cry. Realising that it was your mistake but..it hurts when he struck you with the truth that you’re useless in his eyes.

Diluc didn’t pay mind to pride when it comes to apologizing. Hence, when he heard the sniffling become louder in each breathe you took. He storms to the bedroom and hold your body to his embrace. Covering you from his face. Covering you from the cowardice and guilt he has to face. Securing you from his words..comforting you with his presence.

“sorry princess…don’t bother looking at my face if it means you’ll hate me…i don’t deserve the sight of your eyes…i don’t deserve anything.” He hugs you closer and strokes your hair, within each stroke, it felt like his hands have just won you again. “Thank you for helping me, it ease me a lot—that’s the word you need and i’m unable to fulfil that right..here i am, rejecting you, not acknowledging the effort you took just to wait for me.” He kisses your forehead before carrying you to sit on his lap. “but do believe that i’ll fix this mistake and beg on your knees if you need me to...” he look at your eye despite you not giving him a sight of your puffy eye.

“Anything for a second chance, for my princess.”

Childe:

you really love cooking. It’s something that nobody really knows-cause not evedybody has seen you cook or even taste the food you cook. You’re known to be secretive about everything; Even childe being your husband, only 2 of your 100 friends know-especially with the fact that topic is on your top 10 secret list.

And being in a marriage with childe means you’ll cook 24/7, which at first seems fine with you-but lately, you’ve been losing interest in cooking. It’s like..whatever you make is just a rating of ”it’s okay” for childe. It’s like he doesn’t even bother appreciating your food. So today, you’re trying to confront him…

He’s in a badmood-that’s why he doesn’t bother to try and reach out to you. Though it’ll be very thoughtful if you actually make him his comfort food right? And maybe if you did so, he would’ve complimented your cooking? Right! So you did and you’re so happy with the result! It taste perfect! So you began serving it onto the small bowl and put the food in front of him, you immediately get some spoonful of the food and put it inside his mouth-which is hot-like BURNING HOT. You know you fucked up so badly, so you get some water for him before he said “fuck!” so casually.

“W-what’s wrong..? Sorry i burned your tongue, i really am..!!! Please dr—“ he immediately cut you off. “No…i don’t want to eat dinner, the food doesn’t even taste good…” oh. “and thank you for burning my tongue as well! It certainly helps!.” He mocked you. “Now i can speak while enduring the pain! Right! That’s what you want your husband to feel, right?” He happily grins, a mockery. Childe immediately walked out of the dining room like a child.

And he scoffs silently on the hallway, even though it’s easy enough for you to listen because he talks to himself like he talks to another being. “I should’ve just searched for another person..i can’t stay with an idiot…” and that push you towards a realization that childe always have think of you as somebody who isn’t worth of his time. It’s like reality finally gives you a sign that he’s just one lucky pull you got. You didn’t cry. It gives you a numbing feeling, an empty one.

You sat on the dining table, taking out your apron, you get some bowl of the food and eat it by yourself. Because, like childe said, he wouldn’t eat dinner, so why bother waiting for somebody who can’t even appreciate you?

Eating alone is such a complex feeling, especially in a marriage. It feels lonely but peaceful. At least it can make your mind steady for whatever coming afterwards. You did feel a bit better but..the pain of his words never left you. It never did. It just makes the heart feel more numb as the seconds passed.

You sighed and…there he is, all shy and embarrassed behind the walls, he has been spying on you since 30 minutes ago…he’s guilty as charged. When you see him, you ignored him, immediately. Not wanting to share another eye contact with that man who have insulted your ways of loving him.

He follows you and hold onto your arm before you go elsewhere, who knows what will you do if his arms didn’t hold yours. Childe is embarrassed-guilt on his face and a coward on his heart. He made you wait for a good 5 minutes, he was waiting for you to say something..but instead, childe was met with cold air.

“i’m a loser for insulting your way of loving me. I’m dramatic. I’m a brat. I’m everything that you don’t want in a man.” His head can’t even meet yours. After all, your eyes are blank and it pierces his soul. “You don’t need to give me second chance. You don’t need to treat me right after what i’ve done. A bad deed is a bad deed.” With the courage of the final sentence; he hold onto your hand and kisses your fingertips. “I will win that cold heart of yours again and again, if it means i can live with you in every life to come.”

[fanfiction4sooya]

Omg hi 🙊 hello. Can we get more g!p hybrid Yunjin x reader plssss I’m weak for that girl istg

Hi darling, thank you for waiting for so long (and my bad)!! Here it is, I hope you like it 💖💖

cw: noncon, dubcon, hybrid yunjin, g!p, unprotected sex, cuss words, etc;

It was the fifth night of you coming home and going straight to bed, Yunjin recalled. You got home with a new scent all these nights, feeling so desperate to go to bed after hours of studying with your new study partner Chaewon (another dog hybrid). And after that you still had your internship at the hospital to put icing on the cake.

You didn't realize how the puppy started scenting you whenever you were together, trying to control her tail wagging and her boner whenever you leaned forward to help her with some math problem, or how she'd slightly growl when you mentioned your beautiful golden retriever at home. Your pride and joy, Huh Yunjin.

Yunjin realized the faint scent on you when you kissed her goodnight on the first night, getting confused by it. She called her friend the other day, a wolf hybrid called Kazuha.

"I don't know, I think she might be fucking this other hybrid" She said, scoffing. Yunjin whined, her ears flat on her head thinking of such thing. "I say you should claim her"

"Claim her?" The gold retriever asked, interested about the topic.

"Yes, fuck her raw and rough, make her carry your puppies" The wolf said, almost growling. "don't be such a good girl all the time, do what your instincts tell you" She continued. "And if she tells you that's not true you can't trust her, she might be lying..."

But that wasn't what her instinct was telling her. She wanted to cry and ask you what she did wrong or something of the sort, not 'claim you'. But of course she listened to her friend, not really putting into thought that a wolf and a golden retriever have quite different opinions in a lot of topics.

So she waited, trying to be brave for once.

You, as usual since the night you came home with another scent, went straight to bed ater your shower, not really minding getting dressed, wrapping yourself in your soft comforter and kissing your girlfriend goodnight, not realizing how cold she was towards you.

Deeply asleep with your face on the pillow, you couldn't feel the covers sliding off of you or how she stared at your back and your bare ass, her cock twitching inside her briefs thinking of someone else's cum dripping from you. She grunted, feeling more animalistic than ever before, the doubt leaving her mind as soon as that desperate need to mark her territory grew inside of her chest.

Quickly she straddled your body, your tired mind not really picking on what she was doing.

"Puppy... I'm really tired today" You groaned, feeling her hard cock pressed against your butt. Usually that would be enough to stop her. Key word: Usually.

"I don't care" She husked, straightening her back to pull her cock out and stroke it, spitting on it. You frowned about to turn around but her knees held your body in place. "You are mine" She growled, biting your back. "I'm gonna show you and everyone you are mine"

"Yunjin!" You exasperatedly said, hissing. "That hurt" You cried out, trying to push her off of you but she wouldn't budge.

"You hurt me" She said, biting again but harder, humping your ass and groaning in your ear.

"Baby- what?" You tried to reason with her because she was in fact larger and stronger than you, trying to fight her would be useless. "Baby, tell me what happened" You hissed because she bit you again, licking your back afterwards in this sloppy way. Hungry and rough, her wet and rock hard cock pressing against your naked ass.

You were supposed to feel bad, feel angry or sad but you were... empathetic? Why was she so agitated? Why would she say you hurt her? You tried really had to think of anything but the next thing you knew her cock was violently pushed inside your pussy.

You screamed onto the pillow, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you felt the second and third violent thrusts and Yunjin mumble a low 'fuck' right by your ear. That was making you doubt so many things: why was she acting like that? How could she do such thing to you and most importantly...

Why were you enjoying it?

"You are mine" She repeated, her body flushed against yours, her boobs pressed against your back. "I'm gonna fill your pussy so good" She blindly said, her hips moving in this fast pace now, your skin quickly warming up against hers. "You are going to carry my pups, our beautiful pups"

You moaned, biting the pillow. Yunjin was particularly big, her perfectly proportioned body literally all big.

"Fucking hell" You moaned, your pussy beautifully welcoming her dick, swallowing the whole thing as you grew wetter for her.

"God baby, you like it when I take you like this?" She moaned when you clenched, her tip hitting your womb just good. Yunjin straightened her back, releasing your arms from your sides.

Pulling you up by the hips she positioned you in a sitting position, your arms stretched out to hold on the headboard as you sat on her lap, her cock stretching you even better this way.

Yunjin hugged you against her, one of her big hands rolling your nipple as the other rubbed your clit, her hips never stopping or even falttering as she kept that relentless pace. You rolled your eyes, the gutural moan that left your throat felt even more violent as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your walls squeezing her cock in this delicious way, silently begging for her to stay inside you.

"Yunjinie" You cried out and she groaned, pushing you to turn around. You were straddling her, but now you could see how hurt she was. You frowned, kissing her lips as tears rolled down her beautiful face. You could feel the desperation, the rawness of her feelings fully displayed in her beautiful and ever so expressive gaze.

"No one can take you away from me" Her voice sounded small, her lips ghosting yours as she kept impaling you on her cock;your moans mixed with hers felt so good, intimate beyond words.

Her ears were flat on her head, that made your heart ache.

"I am yours baby" You breathed out, hugging her against you to hide your face in the curve of her neck. "Fuck- N-no one can take me from you, Yunjin" You said, her hands gripping your hips impossibly harder made you finally lose it, squirting all over her lower region and biting hard on her shoulder.

Yunjin screamed out, eyes closed as she painted your insides with her thick semen, grunting and moaning as she kept pushing and pulling your hips to meet hers; the sound, the smell... everything combined made your head spin.

After a while she slowed her movements, hands still on your waist but now she was pulling you to her, her hug suffocantely strong. She was crying.

No, not crying. She was bawlling her eyes out.

You cooed, now fully aware that she was back to her soft persona as her sniffles made her whole body shake with certain violence; you let her cry, petting her hair and slowly rocking her back and forth. It took a while for her to calm down enough, her eyes puffy and nose red, her tail tucked in shame.

"I am so sorry" She started saying but you shushed her, kissing her forehead.

"There's no need, baby" You said. "Now tell me what's going on, please" And so she did, telling you how she started feeling Chaewon's scent on you and how neglected she felt because you were always with the other hybrid.

You took her story, nodding so she would know your attention was 100% on her to make sure she woudln't feel even more neglected. When she finished talking you took a deep breath, guilt slowly creeping up in your chest.

"I am so sorry I neglected you, my love" You held her face with both hands, staring into her beautiful brown eyes. "I promise I had no idea Chaewon was doing that, if I had known she wouldn't be my partner anymore" You caressed her fluffy ears and her tail wagged really fast.

"Can you get rid of her?" Yunjin sniffed and you nodded.

"Anything for my puppy" You cooed and she smiled, hiding her face on your chest. "Am I forgiven, Yunjinie?" You voice dropped an octave and she thickly swallowed. You only called her that when you were horny.

You felt how her cock started to get hard again and you pulled it out, watching her cum ooze out of you and her cock twitched. You held her face between your fingers, her eyes locking with yours as you licked her lips in a upwards motion.

"Now I am the one who needs to forgive you for fucking me without my consent, pretty thing" Lust filled your body thinking of the many possibilities ahead. "Maybe today is the day I'll fuck your virgin little hole, baby..."

"Yes, please" She breathed out, her cock twitching in need.

"Good girl" You slowly jerked her off. "Now go fetch that big strap and some lube puppy, I'm gonna prepare your pretty hole for me" You said and her tail wagged in excitement as she quickly got up to do as you said.

[sonarspace]

sweet syrup, satoru gojo

synopsis: emotions are all over the place when fwb!gojo stands you up… for another girl? content: fluff (kinda). smut (food play, fem!receiving, orgasm, unprotected sex) wc: 3.1k a/n: another fic within 24hrs to make up for my absence :). (not proofread!). this is a result of listening to sesame syrup by cigarettes after sex on repeat.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

your phone chimes with a text from satoru “are you free this week? i’m coming to your city”. to which you reply almost instantly. “yeah, i can make some time.”

he texts back: “no need to cancel any plans. i can work around it. just wanna spend some time with you while i’m here.” making your heart flip.

“i have an event to attend tonight, but can i come over sometime between 2 and 3?” he sends another text.

it’s not really like you had much going on in the week so you decided to say yes. to which he sends a winky face and a see you soon.

it’s almost 2am when you’re done getting ready. it has been a while since you’ve seen each other and while satoru has seen you in all your rawness. you figured it wouldn’t hurt to dress up a bit.

you decide to wear an ocean blue lingerie set (his favorite color) and a sheer white dress over it, leaving nothing to imagination. you hope you can catch him off guard with this look.

you look at the clock and it’s already 2:30am. you decide to send him a text to confirm he’s going to come up or not. it’s not like satoru to stand you up especially on a plan he’s made.

“are we still good for tonight?” you text. but no reply comes through. he did say 3am didn’t he, you think to yourself. maybe he’ll be there by then. you sigh and decide to put on a movie.

you give him the benefit of the doubt and wait a bit longer past 3. but you regret that decision as you are watching instagram stories and see a pic of none other than, satoru gojo in all his glory at the party he said he’d be. an angry pout takes over your lips.

what gets you isn’t the fact that he may still be at the party but who he is with. some model’s lips are pressed to his cheeks – hand hovering over her back and his stupid people winning grin plastered on his face.

posted 20 minutes ago. you inhale deeply, trying to keep the tears at bay. you didn’t even know why you were hurt. after all you were just fuck buddies and nothing more. you suppose it was the anger making you cry.

feeling stupid at even trying to dress him for him, streaks of black mascara run down your face. you look at yourself in the mirror and take a deep breath, willing yourself to not cry over some rich fucker.

you wipe your make up and change into a pair of sweatpants and lay back down on the couch. continuing your show trying to distract yourself from the indirect rejection you felt.

but your mind kept going back to him. why would he wanna be with you when he can get all those pretty girls with their perfect bodies. girls who could probably make him feel far better than you do.

you were stupid to think there was something going in between the two of you. as soon as that thought crosses your mind a text chimes. “baby, i’m so sorry. almost there. 5 minutes.”

you scoff at the nickname ‘baby’ huh. “don’t bother. i’m going to sleep.” but you don’t get a reply back. instead what you get is loud repetition of knocks on your apartment door followed by your name.

he waits a beat and then continues knocking. “not leaving until you open the door” he texts you. out of compassion for your neighbors, you open the door. his hand stops mid knock as you gesture him to get in.

"i'm really sorry, i swear i didn't mean to keep you waiting for so long." he starts rambling and you look at him with a plain stare and arms crossed to let him know you're not having his bullshit — you already know he has other priorities.

"i lost track of time and i left the party as soon as i realized. my phone was dead, so i couldn't even text you. i just charged it on the way here. darling, you know i'd never keep you waiting," he moves closer to grab your hands and you let him.

you gulp hard trying to not cry. he reaches to touch your face but you jerk your head away. "don't gojo." the change stings him and you see a look of hurt pass over his face. "please" he drags out the syllable. "okay," you tell him and he almost smiles but you reach out and wipe the lipstick mark off his cheek bringing it up to his eyes "what's this then?"

he narrows his eyes at your thumb in thought, "it's nothing, i swear. she kissed my cheek out of nowhere and they took the photo and i moved away from her just as fast." and you scoff in disbelief, "you just have an answer for everything, don't you gojo."

he groans “just give me a minute,” and pulls out his phone — going through his texts to show the photos of him taken throughout the night. out of habit you take in his appearance. he looks unbelievably sexy in an all black outfit, a sheer black tank and a black overcoat with matching suit pants. you're immediately reminded of your white dress that you had picked earlier and think how perfectly it’d match his outfit. a tear involuntarily escapes your eye.

you wipe it casually before he can notice. he pulls up the photo probably going around on social media at the moment and then the one of him moving away from the lady, "see!" he exclaims. and you sigh, "what do you want me to say gojo?"

"first off, don't call me gojo. secondly, forgive me. it was an honest mistake, you know i'd never do it on purpose. and lastly, i've missed you so so much baby," he drops his forehead to yours and you don't pull away. cause you've missed him just the same.

"go home," you whisper to him. "can't." he replies in the same manner. "it's too late and i didn't get my car. let me stay. let me make it up to you."

you pull away from him and turn towards your bedroom. he lets out a sigh of relief thinking maybe you were giving him a second chance but his shoulders deflate just as quick when you say, "you can take the guest room."

and so he does. he'd take any chance to be close to you since his job makes it hard for him to stay around you for long periods of time. so whenever he comes to this city, he'd prefers to stay with you rather than at a hotel.

and although your relationship and feelings for each other were hidden under the title of "fuck buddies" you both knew it was more than that. both of you went exclusive as soon as you started sleeping with each other. hell you don't think you could find anyone who would fuck you as good as satoru does. and he doesn't even want to try because the way your pussy makes him feel is other worldly.

he gets out of the shower and opts to wear just his boxers and lays comfortably at the thought of making it up to you in the morning. meanwhile you twist and turn trying to find a position to sleep, wondering if you should give in or keep it up so he knows what he did was wrong.

you wake up to the sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen and smile when you remember satoru stayed over last night. albeit not with you but still. your jaw drops slightly when you walk out and see him standing by the stove in nothing but his boxers. the early morning light accentuating the dips and curves of his muscles.

"satoru!" you shriek covering your eyes. "oh, good morning baby. why are you hiding your face?" he asks as if he isn't standing there with his dick in your face. "why are you naked?! put something on!" you exclaim. "ahh, nothing you haven't seen before princess. plus i’m not naked. I’m wearing boxers!” he grins and then adds on “can't exactly wear those clothes when i'm cookin breakfast. it's uncomfortable."

"ugh," you say out loud and march back into your room. you come out with a pair of his sweatpants and throw it to him from across the counter. "wear these!"

"whatever you want baby," he pulls them on and they rest sinfully on his hips – almost teasing you and your cheeks flush. “can you taste this for me?” he asks and you walk around the counter to stand next to him as he pushes a spoonful of syrup towards you.

your eyes flutter close and you hum at the sweet taste. “this is really good,” you smile softly. “thanks. it’s for the french toast. i just put it in the oven to keep it warm. thought you’d be asleep for a little longer.” you beam at the mention of french toast, they were your favorite. “nutella?” you ask and he nods with a mesmerizing smile “just the way you like it, sweets.”

you both gaze at each other with a soft smile. “can i have another spoon?” you meek. you accidentally let a little bit of it dribble down your chin. “oh shit,” you’re about to wipe it off but satoru holds your hand and pulls you in closer.

you feel his tongue leave a wet trail behind as he licks the dripping syrup from your chin to the corner of your mouth. your breath hitches at the sensation. he pulls back and looks at you with smirk.

before he can take too much pride in catching you off guard, you surprise him by clashing your lips to his. he bucks backward and steadies himself with a grip on your waist.

his heart picks up a beat at finally feeling your plush lips on his. tasting the remnants of syrup still sticking to your lips. your kiss felt transcendental to him. like the only way to stay alive was the air that passed through your mouth to his. and he rejoiced at that. he’d be willing to live with you as his source of oxygen.

gaining back some composure he pushes you back and places you on the counter. you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in further. his tongue tries to find its way into your mouth but you don’t budge. instead you giggle into the kiss and he takes it as an indication to kiss your teeth.

his lips move over your jaw, lightly nipping at the skin at the space under your ear. his tongue pokes out and traces your ear lobe once, twice and then he nibs down on the cartilage playfully with a whine of your name. the oven’s beeping brings you both out of the love lust trance you’re in.

he huffs and moves back to turn off the oven while you turn off the stove and grab another spoon of syrup. he turns back to see you leaning back on an arm and kicking your feet – dropping the sticky syrup over your clothed perked nipples. the lack of a bra evident. “oops” you pout, feigning innocence.

his breath seizes at the scene unfolding in front of him. he licks his lips once and then without wasting any more time, his mouth moves over your chest. licking the syrup off your shirt and in the process stimulating your nipples just like you hoped. he pulls off your shirt and throws it behind somewhere behind but before he can go further you stop him “wait!”.

“not in the kitchen,” you speak timidly – a flush creeping up your neck at his lustful stare. pressure builds in your stomach at the way he’s looking at you and you squeeze your thighs for a bit of friction.

“where?” he asks as he picks you up. “anywhere but the kitchen,” you whisper into the skin of his neck as you place a chaste kiss. and then he’s dropping down to his knees with you. laying you on the wooden floor of your living room

he leaves you on the floor for a beat and then comes back with the pot filled with syrup. he peels of your sweatpants along with your soaked panties. “lay still,” he tells you and you straighten out your legs and arms.

using you as his canvas he grabs the pot of syrup and tilts it over your body. creating a pattern of syrup on your naked body. he places the pot back on the counter and admires his work. a thoughtful grin on his face as he makes eye contact with you. “can i take a photo of you?” he asks and you nod without a second thought. he grabs your phone and snaps a pic. this image of yours would be imprinted in his mind forever and more.

“look at how beautiful you look,” and surely you do. sprawled out over the wooden floors of your apartment with a sticky substance covering your body. but that’s not all. the sun shines through the curtains, casting your body in an ethereal light and a ring of light on your head acting as a halo. “just like an angel. my angel. aren’t you baby?” he asks for confirmation.

and maybe it’s too early to say but you do anyway. “only yours, satoru. always yours,” you utter the words he’s been waiting for – well he feels like his whole life but in reality it’s only been three months since you two started this relationship.

the intensity of his gaze has a shiver run over your body and you can feel goosebumps erupt across your skin. he moves on top of you. taking his time with your body. licking over and over until he cleans the syrup. you almost feel like you’re not breathing as his mouth moves over your neck, collarbones, chest, stomach – lapping and littering your skin with love bites.

before moving further down he gives you a deep kiss and you can taste the sweetness of the syrup on his tongue as it tangles with yours. but it’s so incredibly satoru, to be tasting this sweet you can’t help but suck his tongue a little.

finally he spreads your thighs and makes himself at home. licking a quick stripe to test your wetness. there’s so much arousal it has him wondering if you already came. your nubs a shade darker, almost angry at being away from him for so long. he coos at your pussy as it was a separate being. “you missed me, didn’t you?” a peck to your clit. “i missed you too, but your mommy was tryna keep us apart.” you can’t help but laugh at the endearing silliness of him speaking to your pussy. faking a gasp he whispers “i know! it’s okay. going to take such good care of you now,” this time he looks at you.

his tongue moves over your bundle of nerves pressing down on your nub stimulating it just the right amount and plunging a finger into your cunt. his eyes flutter close at your taste. “nothing comes close to your sweetness, darling” he groans. your hands tangle in his head as he continues sucking your clit. you moan his name “ha ha ‘m so close toru.” so he speeds up his pace – licking ferociously, wanting you to reach your high quicker.

you come with a scream of his name. eyes shut and fingers tugging his hair but he has no complaints. he loved the sting when you tugged his hair like this – when you were too fucked out to even realize you were doing it.

he frees his cock and he feels like he can breath a bit better now. his hardened cock turns impossibly harder when you reach a hand down and pump it a few times and he watches in awe. pre cum lathering his length.

“you doing okay?” he asks you from above aligning himself but not pushing in. “yeah,” you hum but you’re lost in thought. about last night. but satoru notices everything. he squeezes your cheeks so you look at him. “what’s wrong?” genuinely concerned.

“i was hurt last night when you didn’t show up on time. and i didn’t understand why i was so hurt because it’s not like we’re dating or anything. but seeing that pic of you, out with those people hurt. cause i was here waiting for you, wanting to surprise you with a dress i bought, that i thought you’d like. but that doesn’t matter. what i’m trying to say is that this is more than just sex for me satoru. i really really like you. i want more of you. more of this. more of us.” you confess all that you’ve held in since this past few weeks of being apart from him.

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, reeling in your confession. you feel like you’ve ruined whatever you had going on. “satoru, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way” in fact it wasn’t. you’d be heartbroken if he didn’t feel the same way. “you don’t have to say anything. i just, i-“ you’re about to continue but he cuts you off with a hard kiss. “i do too. all that you said. i too, want more of you, more of this, more of us. it’s more than just sex for me too, baby. has been for a while. i’m really sorry about last night. wear that dress for me tonight, please.” he pleads. “i’ll cook you a nice dinner and we can have our first date as an official couple. what’d you say?” he smiles softly.

your heart clenches at overwhelming emotions and tears line your eyes as you repeat yes over and over again until he’s kissing you and drinking the love out of you.

he carries you over to your bedroom and lays beside you. he grabs your leg and places it over his hip, lining his cock with your cunt. slowly he pushes into you. you both moan in unison. him at the feeling of your snug walls and you at the feeling of his cock stretching you apart.

your foreheads touch as you maintain eye contact. he thrusts into you ever so lovingly. languid and hard thrusts. as if you both had all the time in the world.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

a/n: idk how i feel abt this 💔😭 but i hope you liked it. comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[tojisun]

like everything with john, it ends with a quiet admission.

"i'm tired."

the words fall from your lips like needles dragging along the curvature of your throat. they puncture, aching with their vengeance, until they slip into the open space, never to be taken back. never to be unsaid.

you do not look at him when you say this, incapable of facing your limits. your shortcomings.

you are a fraud dressed in fluffed up costumes, preaching about true love and never-ending devotion but look where you are right now—straining behind the stained walls of this relationship, splintering at the fleeting weight of his affections.

and you thought it was poetic how flowers could grow in between cracked asphalt.

the reality of the situation is like this—john loves you.

but it's not enough to silence the doubts and the jealousy, because you are jealous. you're not a jealous person, god knows many tried you, but this thing with john—this relationship that ever so fluctuates—it is troubling. insufficient, truly.

your friends told you to be better; that people who are jealous are just insecure about their relationship and yes, you are. that is the crux of it; that is what drags the voices from the pits of your stomachs to spit to each other’s face, spewing with vitriol because john has made you this beastly being, always pawing for his attention, always begging for the scraps.

he's left you rotten and all hollowed-out.

an empty opera house.

“is it because o’mary?” he asks, quick to find the rot in your core only to prod at it. gawk at it. to marvel at its festering like he had not been the cause of such unravelling.

is it because of mary he asked like you had not spent sleepless nights crying to him, telling him that you do not feel good when it was just the two of them. that you do not want whatever it is they have—hell, his friends had called her his work wife; crooning to each other like you were just a pinned butterfly stuck behind glass, watching as they coloured the details of john’s life beyond your grasp. of his love outside of your arms.

is it because of mary he asked like he hadn’t just told you of mary’s love for him, the confession she’d whispered as he held her in his arms after she had lost her pet to an illness. like he didn’t tell you, in awed whispers, how mary told him that he was the best thing that ever happened to her; the loveliest thing in her life like john was hers to begin with. like john wasn’t wearing a gold band on his ring—the promise he’s made in that courthouse, when the two of you were still too young and obsessively in love.

is it because of mary he asked like he hadn’t just told you, in angered puffs, that he couldn’t have rejected her then. she was in pain, he’d said. i couldn’t do that to her, he’d added like it was mary whom he married. like it was mary who he needed to protect and reassure and cherish.

so yes, it is because of her. but also, it is because you are tired.

tired of asking for his love. for his devotion. for him to choose you, come what may.

“just,” you begin, too weak for anything more. “sign the papers, please john.”

even when you are leaving him, you are still unable to stop yourself from pleading to him for his kindness. for his grace.

he stares at you, pinched lips and flared nose, and you stare back because this man—this john that stands before you—this isn’t the man you’ve loved. not the one who loved you back.

your john wouldn’t have hurt you this way; he would have listened to your whispered confessions, see the ache in your admission, and move himself away from mary because why did it matter if she had loved him? your john wouldn’t have cared for her affections; your john would have only cared for your own.

your john wouldn’t have—

your john wouldn’t. and now he is gone.

so you walk away from… this man amidst the suffocating silence, feeling nothing wash over you.

they said divorce feels like liberation; that it feels like the start of something kinder and better and brighter. but this just feels like a bruise on your tender skin—something blooming, pain so muted that it hurts only when you poke it.

and like how you were with all your previous bruises, you cannot stop poking at this one too.

[adissonsss]

PT1: Headcanons(SFW) How dating Tokio Hotel would be like

Notes; I started crying while listening to Mockingbird by Emniem, so I decided to finish this

•Since I already did a seperate Bill post, his section is shorter(😢😢)

•This is bordering NSFW, some mentions of sex

•Sorry I was gone for a while, I was busy w/ helping around the house+some other personal things

•Enjoy, much love!💜💜

Tom Kaulitz

•With Tom, he thinks you're a godsend. He won't even breathe near another woman again if it means you smile at him.

•He just loves you so much. You've totally stopped his playful, flirty personality towards other women.(not towards you)

•Y'alls relationship is spontaneous, fun, laughter-filled, and light-hearted.

•^And I quote, he "doesn't like girls who overthink."

•No doubt he jump-scares you everytime you come out of the bathroom, crossing a wall corner, or tired and dazed and having Tom breathe on the back of your neck while falling asleep.

•Flirty & inside-joke pet names!!!

•^I can imagine Tom staring at you whilst you sleep👁👁. You wake up and turn your head, and see Tom wide-eye staring at you not expecting to be caught.

•^ I wouldn't blame you if you got scared or shy. Or both!

•Tom loves food. Cooking, ehh, not so much.. You, cooking? YES! You, cooking for him? HE WANTS TO MARRY YOU AND BE BURIED TOGETHER💗💗.

•^ If you can cook, or bake, or both, he has heart eyes rn😻. He will devour anything(including you😘), but your food he actually cherishes and enjoys, feeling grateful and blessed you and your skills.

•He will make a song about and/or w/ you. Singing into the mic while he plays guitar on stage, standing close to him, making eye contact.

•Y'all know that thing he does w/ his guitar? Yeah, he does it with intentions of doing that to you tonight. If you're in the crowd, he makes eye contact and licks his lips, letting his mind run wild.

•He kisses you any chance he gets, any body part.

•^On your neck while your head is turned? No problem!

•^On your hand while stretching it behind your head? Yeah, he loves it.

•^On your lips while your venting to him if your stressed? Sure!

•He will never not do it.

Imagine

Sitting on his lap while he softly plays guitar, dozing you to sleep.

He hums along with the beat, and notices the extra weight on his chest. He sees you sleeping, and a smile erupts onto his face. He doesn't move a muscle, enjoying this special moment with you.

After a couple of moments, he does slowly grab his phone from his pants pocket and snapping a(or about 20) picture of you.

Bill Kaulitz

•He loves physical affection, and will hug and touch you at every moment.

•He loves you, and your attention!!!!!

•He loves praise, but praise from you?? His clothes are off.

•Honestly anything from and about you is just so... He just loves you and your being and everything.

•If you have color-treated hair or a texture which you have to take special care of it, Bill is learning how to help you ASAP.

•If you read or write, Bill loves reading w/ you, and honestly just endorsing your hobbies+skills.

•(I saw a similar idea to this on Tiktok) If you both have stuffies, he makes them be both of y'alls kids to take care of, feed, and bathe. Turns them away from the bed whenever when it's the adults alone time🙈.

•Romantic pet names.

Imagine

Laying next to Bill in bed, both of you just staring up at the ceiling, extremely tired after today's events of being on stage.

You feel Bill's hands creep around your waist, you now becoming the little spoon. Bill places his mouth close to your ear, and whispers softly, knowing your close to a nice night of sleep,

"Goodnight, schatz."

Gustav Schäfer

•This wonderful man is loving, romantic, and soo sweet😻.

•He loves holding your hand, and just feeling your body on him(take it any way you want to)

•He loves dancing w/ you, holding your body close and spinning you around, feeling the rhythm of the song.

•I'm tryna keep it clean in this post, but DAMN. This man's muscles, he can and will use it for helping you w/ heavy lifting, grabbing you, picking you up on his shoulder, advantages in bed, stamina, anything to be honest.

•He is a bit submissive, wanting to keep you close to him so doing anything and everything for you is a daily part of this man's life.

•Y'all saw that clip where he took his shirt off on stage? Yeah, you tried to do that once(if you wanna be apart of the band, idk), lil bro gave you the death stare and a little more in the bedroom later that night❗

•Look, he may be nice, but if someone deserves to be judged, Gustav is gonna judge.

•You and Gustav shit talk and give certain people the stank face if they deserve it, laughing about it later on🤝🏻.

•If you have a large family, siblings, or relatives in general, he will want to put on his best impression for them! Shaking hands, bringing a side, dressing up nice, being the most polite he's ever been, all or you🤗.

Imagine

Gustav is in the gym working out, without a shirt, and he catches your eye. You admire him flexing and working his muscles. He decides to act like you aren't staring and does extra reps, pushups, and lifts more than what he usually does.

He spills some water on his face on purpose, and uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe it off his chin🥰.

Georg Listing

•The first thing this guy notices about you is your body. A literal quote.🙈

"The first thing I notice about a girl is her butt!"

•He loves your shape and size, curves and crevices, marks, scars, pimples, scabs, whatever makes you, you.

•He loves your laugh! He's always cracking jokes and laughing w/ you.

•He will admire your body in bed, seeing it covered in a sheen of sweat, in all of it's beauty and kisses all over your skin, feeling blessed and grateful that you chose him to be your boyfriend!

•He loves taking care of you, and you love taking care of him(you better), so making eachother breakfast, giving eachother daily vitamins or medicine, all of that.

•MOVIE. DATE. NIGHTS. Cuddling up on the couch w/ popcorn and candy, sharing a warm blanket and falling asleep not in 1 hour in. He ignores the movie and probably falls asleep admiring your peaceful face.

Imagine

Georg usually wakes up earlier than you, being a early-bird. So, with that, he either makes or buys you breakfast, ordering your favorite drink and items, ordering stuff for him and the others too.

When he gets back and your still asleep(damn), he softly wakes you up, holding back a "awe" at your sleepy face, setting down the drink and food on the nightstand, getting into bed w/you, and talking about anything and everything.

---------

Taglist;

@ilovebill-and-gustav

@doll-bite

•I love these sm!!!

•Much love!💜💜

[catherinnn]

But Daddy I Love Him!!!

Eddie Munson x cheerleader!reader based on "But Daddy I Love Him" by Taylor Swift. words: around 2k warnings: angst if you squint, fluff!!! so many taylor swift references, overprotective parents, no use of y/n, happy ending.

masterlist

You knew that once you made your relationship with Eddie Munson public people would lose it. That’s why you’ve been postposing it until you were both really sure about this. But it’s been six months already, and they have been the best six months of your entire life.

Never has any other boy made you feel this way, so comfortable, so confident, so in love.  He was chaos and revelry in the best was possible, not like these other boys your parents had set you up with over the last years, just because they’re friends with their parents. He was the complete opposite of those boring boys, he had long and messy hair that you love playing with; he dresses in total black with ripped jeans, leather jackets and shirts with monsters painted on them; he’s loud and fun and hilarious; he’s so pretty and so hot at the same time.

There is no doubt of the way he makes you feel and you’re tired of hiding it. So yes, you knew it was going to be controversial walking in hand by hand, letting him hug you from behind whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you grab your things from your locker and kissing him goodbye before separating to each’s classes for the whole school to see. But you weren’t expecting World War Three.

“There you are, pretty girl” he greets you again at lunch.

“Hey you” you greet him back and go to kiss him, wrapped up in your own world when you’re interrupted by a fellow cheerleader behind you.

“Stay away from her!” Sarah protested. You both look at her in shock.

“What?” Eddie asks confused.

“Whatever it is that you’re doing to her, stop it!” she demands angrily, it’s kind of funny.

“Sarah, what do you mean?” you can’t contain the chuckle that escapes mid-sentence.

“What’s going on?!” she asks in complete confusion.

“He’s my boyfriend, he’s not doing anything wrong to me” you explain to her—actually, to the whole cafeteria who’s just as confused and angry as Sarah is.

“What do you mean your boyfriend? Honey, he’s…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, shooting you a look that speaks volumes, her eyes widen and her eyebrows as if saying You know exactly what he is.

Eddie starts giggling but hides his face in your shoulder trying to act modest. You fail to hide you smirk.

“He’s my boyfriend and I love him. I don’t really see the issue here” you put an end to the conversation and walk to his table where he starts introducing you to his friends.

“What a mess” Hannah whispers to Sarah while playing with her pearl necklace.

However, the real problem started when you got home, one that could not be ignored by just laughing about it.

Sarah and Hannah had talked to your parents about Eddie and you. And your dad did not like those news at all.

“You can’t see him anymore, this nonsense stops right now” he demands.

“But daddy, I love him!” you scream.

“Love? You can’t love someone like him. You’re acting crazy, come to your senses and don’t be a fool!”

“No, I’m not coming to my senses. Please, you don’t understand! Just try to get to know him at least!”

“For the love of God, he is crazy! Don’t you see it?” he exclaims

“But he’s the one I want” you cry.

“No! Go up to your room now, I don’t want to listen to this anymore” he didn’t let you say one more word as he slammed the door in your face.

-

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you hear Eddie’s concerned voice through the phone.

“Can you come over? Please” you don’t explain just yet, you just needed him here.

“Of course, I’ll be there in ten” he doesn’t even stop to think about it, immediately saying yes.

“Climb through my window, I’ll leave it open”

That night you only managed to sleep thanks to him, he was the one giving you the peace and calming that you needed. He was the one making your heart flutter.

And for that reason you decided you would not give up so easily. You could not just give up on this thrill he brought into your life, your wild boy and all of this wild joy.

This is why your judgmental ‘friends’—if you could even call them that—still had things to say about your relationship.

“We just want what’s best for you”

“I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that” you started, acting reluctantly, “I’m pregnant”

Every single one of them yelled a perfectly synchronized ‘WHAT?!’And you nodded.

“I’m having his baby” you admitted and they looked at you horrified and shocked, you couldn’t contain you laughter anymore. “No, I’m not, but you should see your faces!”

“We are not joking around! Could you take this seriously?”

“Girls, if all you want is boring and insignificant for me, then it’s just meaningless and it’s still my choice to make” you explained, starting to think that they’re not ‘trying to save you,’ they just hated you.

“But think about your reputation. What would people say about you?”

“I’ll tell you something, it’s still my name and mine alone”

“Please, just think about-“

“Oh my god! I swear, I’d rather die right now than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning! Really!” you interrupted them and without letting them say one more word, you finally left.

-

For the next month you had to sneak around to be able to see Eddie, since your dad had forbidden you to ever see him again. Obviously, that wasn’t even a choice. You were going to see him whether your dad likes it or not. But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

So you get out of your house after lying to your parent telling them you were meeting one of the girls for a project. Your mom looked at you warily because she noticed the pretty dress and the make-up you were wearing, but she didn’t say anything about it. She wasn’t the judgemental person your dad was.

You walked two blocks away from your house and there was that Van you knew all too well by now, waiting for you.

You went to his trailer, you couldn’t really do any other plan for a date. You still couldn’t go out in public much if you wanted to keep seeing him.

“What movie should we watch?” you ask him.

“I didn’t rent any this week, I just have the old ones we already watched” he answers.

“Oh” you mumble as you go through the couple cassettes he has. But he’s right, you’ve already seen those a thousand times. He hears your sigh.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t think we would have to keep hiding here even after telling everyone about us” he explains.

“I know Eddie, but- I’m dead if my dad finds out I’m still seeing you” you insist but he doesn’t say anything back. He’s dozing off thinking about something.

“What if I just go talk to him?” he proposes after a few seconds.

“What?” you question him in disbelieve. He can’t mean that literally.

“No really, what if he meets me in person? I could talk to him, introduce me, do all that ‘what my intentions with your daughter are.’ Maybe he’ll come around”

“That won’t work with him Eddie, it’s just gonna be a really unconfutable moment between you two. Believe me, I know him” you explain.

“But what other choice do we have? Are we just gonna keep hiding until you move out?” he questions.

“I- I don’t know, but at least this way I can still sneak around and see you. If I keep insisting with this, he’s just gonna lock me in my bedroom forever” you started getting nervous. You were so stressed out that no one would believe or even listen to you when you want to explain how Eddie actually is to you.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m always gonna be here” he calms you down by hugging you. Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer.

When Sunday comes around, you were setting the table to eat with your family, your dad cooking the meat on the grill, your mom dressing the salad. You hear a knock on the front door, but you weren’t expecting anyone today.

“Honey, can you get that?” you mom asks you.

When you open the door, your eyes must be deceiving you, it has to be that. You’re just imagining him because you miss him and he’s just always on your mind.

“Hey” he softly greets you noticing the surprise on your face. And you confirm you’re not imagining anything.

“What are you doing here?!” you whisper-shout at him.

“Okay- I know you told me not to do this, but I really think it could work. Just give me a chance sweetheart, I mean… my charm worked with you after all, maybe it’ll work on them as well, who knows?” he winks playfully.

"Honey! Who is it?" your mom appears from behind you to see. Eddie presents himself politely, giving her flowers even.

"Oh, thank you Eddie, I didn't know you were coming over" she comments confused.

"I just wanted to introduce myself so you could actually get to know me, and not what... some other people say about me" he explains calmly. He acting so respectful that you're biting your tongue to not make fun of him.

"Of course dear, come in" and just like that, he has your mom absolutely delighted with him.

But as I said, your dad is the tough one.

Eddie goes outside to talk to him, he asks you to leave him go alone for a second and that he'll call you if he needs you.

You let him go by himself but still, you're standing at the door spying on them. You can't hear anything, but you see Eddie talking and your dad listening with a straight face. He's acting tough to intimidate him. But Eddie doesn't seem faced by it, he's just explaining something in the nicest way possible. If the hellfire guys were here to see him, they would never let him live this down.

"Honey, don't bite your nails" your mom tells you after a while.

"I'm just really nervous"

"I know, they've been talking for a while now" she agrees, "want me to go see how it goes?"

"Or should I go?" you start questioning but as if you had called them, your dad and Eddie walk in. You look at them expectantly.

"Can you help me outside?" your dad asks you and you nod quickly. You try to read Eddie's face but he seems relaxed, could it be?

After going outside he stands in front of you and takes a few seconds to choose his next words.

"I'm sorry"

"What?" you whisper. You can't believe what you just heard.

"I owe you an apology for not listening to you when you explained it" he starts, "and I owe him and apology for misjudging him"

"Really?"

"Yes dear, I hope you can forgive me and... I just want you to be happy, and I can finally tell that he is one who makes you happy" he admits and you go hug him before you even think of it. Somehow, now even your daddy just loves him.

Eddie stays for dinner that day and it's beautiful to see them all getting along. You separate from your old friends and find new ones who don't judge you and actually care about you and not what other's might think. Eddie and you stay together and finally have dates outside of his trailer or your room. You officially meet Wayne and he adores you, but Eddie's not surprised about that, he knew it wouldn't take much giving how adorable you are. People still have things to say about you two but you learned not to care about it.

[groenendaelfic]

you know I wasn't going to comment on anything s3 in detail or write a super long divisive post because that's draining and tiring and I just want everyone to have fun and find joy in fandom in whatever way is best for them. And yet here we are. Who'd have thought?

All I wanted from season 3 was for Wilmon to talk to and with each other, to get to know each other (better) and to try to understand and support each other and grow together. To be a couple in love and working on their relationship, learning from each other. Them against the world, facing problems together as a team. I wanted romance and hugs and honesty, and all I got was them being horny. I mean don't get me wrong I love them being horny, but I don't want that to be their entire (positive) relationship and the only thing they have going for them as a couple. Please just have an actual, proper conversation with each other?

This post however is not about that. This post is about Kristina.

I hate what they did with her. I hate her entire character arc (if you can call it that) in s3. I hate what triggered her breakdown. I hate that instead of breaking the circle of abuse and emotional and physical neglect she no doubt suffered, she perpetuated it.

She left her son alone when he needed her most. When all he needed was a hug and a good long cry and the assurance that he's not alone, that she's there for him. That she understands. For someone (his family) to be there and listen and assure him that for them, Wille comes first. (I mean not all, he also needed proper therapy for one, but that'd have been a great and important start)

Wille is a child. Her child. Wille needed her and she failed him. She pushed him away and she sent him away and she left him alone.

(the same is true for Ludvig of course, it'd be extremely sexist etc to not put the exact same expectations and blame on him as well, but alas this post is only indirectly about him as everything always is at best)

However.

Her son is dead.

She's been groomed to believe her entire purpose in life is to be a mascot (which comes with very specific expectations and restrictions she herself said she struggled to adapt to) and to give birth to the next mascot.

I don't pity her for that, but that's still her entire identity and purpose in life. It's always been, and now the next mascot is dead and she has to burden the son she thought would be spared with it all, pun very much intended.

But let's return to my first point first. Her son is dead. Not just the next mascot. Her son.

Yes, Wille's brother died as well and I'll never make light of that. It's horrible and a grief and pain impossible to put into words. Especially as a kid or young teen. Wille needs all the support. Still.

It's not the same.

I know it's not the same because I know exactly what it's like. Both of it.

Granted I'm not a queen, but I did have a cousin who died aged sixteen. We lived in the same house their entire life and shared a bedroom for years. We were like siblings. It was my first time experiencing the death of a close loved one and it was horrible. We all struggled for a long time. Their siblings and I and the entire family, and they will never be forgotten, but it broke my aunt and uncle. Fifteen years later and they're still broken.

I also have two sons and a spouse who are dead (no I didn't lose them, I know exactly where they are) and I promise you it's not the same. A dead sibling is nothing like a dead child. (not that it's a competition)

I'm not going to talk about what it does to you internally, but I will tell you what you'll experience from the outside world when your family dies excitingly enough to make it to the local newspaper. Then feel free to multiply it by a large number of your own choosing when you're royalty and the entire country is looking at you and you've been groomed to never lose composure.

Everyone will call and show up and want to show their support and their condolences (that lasts until about a week or so after the funeral). And they will get two words in and break down and cry, each and every one of them, and then it's your job to console them and be strong and deal with all the arrangements and lawyers and bureaucracy. And it'll have to be you for most things no matter how supportive your family might be, because it's you who needs to sign shit and show the school a death certificate. Everyone will mean well, but it'll be everyone else who'll require reassurance and you who'll have no choice but to function because at first there's so much to do. So much. You won't have time to breathe until after the funeral, and after that there're still so much more to do and take care of you'd never have considered before. For weeks. You can ask someone else to drive you but it'll still be you who's required to show up and do the thing. Some things will drag out for months and more. You don't have time to break down and be weak. You can't afford to, because you also have a job and other responsibilities and a duty to your dead loved ones.

But then the day comes when it's 'over' and there's nothing more to do. Sure people still look at you with pity and whisper behind your back wherever you go and fall quiet, unsure how to react or what to say, because you're now the lady who lost her family in a freak accident, but everything and everyone else moves on. That's normal. It can't not. But it's that quiet after which is the most dangerous.

I hate that they made Kristina's breaking point her son publicly coming out as queer, renouncing following traditions without thought and admitting to having been in the video. I hate it so much, because that was a choice made with an entirely different motive behind the one I'll expound on now and I hate that. Don't instrumentalize grief and the loss of a child and sibling to further prove and underline your political agenda (which I agree with). It cheapens it and was very much unnecessary. We all would've gotten the point without it as well.

But you know what? I can't fault Kristina for that.

You don't know your breaking point until you reach it. It can be anything. There's a reason the saying goes 'the straw that broke the camel's back'. Everyone has a different one and they often feel very ridiculous to oneself (which is a very helpful feeling in that situation, believe me /s). I've talked to numerous people who've gone through something similar. In my support group and in grief counseling and group therapy. No one I've met had a 'logical' breaking point.

Mine came late last fall when I saw a robin outside my window. Yes a bird. We'd have one come every winter to eat the oats and raisins etc we put out for it, and my youngest would spend endless hours every day before dusk looking out that window waiting for the robin to come and eat for a few moments at a time, less if he started clapping out of excitement.

That was it. Boom. I was useless for the next seven weeks.

You don't let your grief overcome you. That isn't a choice. You don't choose not to function when a loved one dies. You don't choose to be depressed or to have the most ridiculous thing be your breaking point. You don't choose to be too strong to not let the grooming break you or to be too weak to be unable to break out of it. And you don't choose to be unable to sit at a birthday party and enjoy cake with a son you know you'll have to force into a role he never wanted, the one your dead son was supposed to fill.

Does that make Kristina any less of a shitty mom? No, of course not. Nor does it change anything for Wille. Kristina's grief shouldn't be Wille's concern. But you don't choose any of that, and the stronger you have to appear the farther you'll fall once you just can't hold it together anymore.

I grew up with a very large, multicultural extended family. There wasn't an hour I was awake at home as a kid when I wasn't hugged or kissed by a younger cousin or aunt or my mom (it was super annoying). We talked and still talk about everything. I married into a family which was a bit less physical and more Swedish in showing their affection, but they are still very open and loving and genuine. I had all the support I could ask for. They're the best and I couldn't have asked for more.

It's not enough. Your child is dead. And Kristina had none of that.

Is Kristina (and Ludvig) super annoying for going on and on and on about Erik and how perfect he was? About always bringing him up when they have a son right there who needs them desperately?

Yes. It annoyed me too. I kept catching myself being furious on Wille's behalf and Simon's with how Wille reacted to the not-comparison between Erik and Sara. But I understand Wille's reaction to Simon and I understand Kristina and Ludvig.

Because once your child / sibling / spouse / dog dies?

They become perfect. My oldest once poured syrup where he shouldn't (it was a Nordic winter night and the car was thirsty) resulting in us being out of our only car, our insurance laughing at us, and us unable to afford a new one. It cost a lot of money, my spouse almost their job and made our life a lot harder for well over a year. He was old enough to know better (and leave the house by himself to go outside and play). He never did anything wrong in his life. He was perfect. They were all perfect.

Erik? What we learn about him is horrifying, and it being normalized and dare I say institutionalized, with him probably not having second guessed his actions, makes it worse instead of better. I do believe Erik was the kind of guy who just didn't (care to) think and merely did what was expected without further thought. That doesn't make it better either, because those kinds of people are the ones who keep corrupt systems running. I might be wrong about his character entirely, but it doesn't matter, because as soon as he died he became perfect.

It's weird what death does to our perception of a loved one. Or maybe not. It's also weird what death does to our perception of everything, because suddenly everything will remind us of that person.

A cloud? A scent? A sound? Toilet paper? Kristina is at the stage where everything she sees and feels and smells and hears will remind her of Erik and his death. Of how he's dead and now Wille has to become him and that is the worst.

Also her son is dead.

No she can't just pull herself together and eat the damn cake. Everything she talks about is Erik because everything she currently is is Erik. Her son who is dead.

There is a reason this is such an often used trope in fiction.

Kristina spent all her life being told that her duty to the throne is her only purpose in life. Be queen. Represent Sweden. Produce an heir. Part of why she's as old as she is is no doubt because Pernilla August is awesome and you can't not hire her when that's an option, but nothing else in this show is a coincidence and done without thought, so I refuse to believe that Kristina hasn't always been meant to be an older mom.

Maybe she had fertility issues. Maybe she for whatever reason didn't want kids and put it off for as long as she could. She's certainly not maternal. Unlike every other woman her generation, no one ever expected her to be maternal. That's not her job.

Quite the opposite. Kristina is old enough to have been raised at a time when royal mothers weren't expected to have any hand in raising their children except for approving (or rather disapproving chosen) nannies and playmates and tutors and the like. She was very likely the first female heir apparent, or maybe she was simply the heir because she had no (male) siblings. Either way her job was always to be a monarch, not a woman or a mother. That's what staff is for. That's not an excuse, but it does explain her as a character.

She was groomed and forced herself to adjust (I do believe forced is the right word, because unlike Erik she seems to (have) be(en) a lot more like Wille than she'd like to admit). She had to be strong and queen and represent Sweden. And then her son and heir died and she failed at both.

I do believe Erik was always the 'easier' child, doing what he was told and taking only the freedoms he knew he'd be granted, while Wille is willful, argues, has a temper and his own head. (that doesn't mean Erik was happier or better adjusted)

And now Erik is dead and Wille has to fit the mold. Wille who got to go to a normal school and clubbing and was let to run wild with little preparation for the role he'd someday have to support his brother with. Arguments can be made that Kristina and everyone else never cared about Wille until they needed him, but I'd like to think she meant well and gave him the freedom she could, and because she is a bad parent she thought she was being kind, and because she is queen no one told her otherwise until it became a problem.

Kristina has never been a good parent, and I honestly believe saying someone meant well is an insult and not an excuse, but I do believe she tried the best with what she knew, the best she could.

It wasn't enough, it was the opposite of enough, but she tried and her breakdown is not a weakness but something which was a long time in coming.

She's not maternal. Her job wasn't to be maternal. Her job is to be a mascot and have other people make sure the next mascot is fed and watered and able to perform. Her being too brainwashed to see how horrifying that is does not make her innocent or any less of a bad mother, but why would she think of acting any other way?

She's ashamed of her breakdown. She can't be weak. Not in front of the nation and not in front of her son and heir. Wille can learn and grow and change. Everyone can and it's never too late, but Kristina here is meant to be what Wille risks becoming if he doesn't, if he gives up and becomes a thoughtless mascot.

Kristina is not a victim and I can't forgive her for being a shit mom, but she's also not the devil. She's a mother who lost her child, and she's spent her whole life being told that the worst thing she can do is to appear weak.

Well guess what? At one point that simply doesn't work anymore.

This post by the lovely @voldiebeth is what motivated me to write a similar one. I originally planned on reblogging and merely adding my own thoughts, and I did talk to her before posting, but then it became something even more personal than originally planned, and considering the difficulty of the subject I found myself more comfortable making this a standalone post. I know that's not proper tumblr etiquette, but please bear with me. Many thanks to @voldiebeth for motivating me to put my convoluted thoughts and feelings in writing and order them a bit. It was very cathartic.

[heymickyursofine]

You Made Me Love You. Benny Weir X Fem!Mean!Reader

Summary: When Benny found out you loved him he was ecstatic, only thinking of the positives. He never thought of the negative consequences that would come with it. He never thought you’d hate him for it.

Warnings: Use of Y/N, Angstttttt (like a lot), mean reader but lowkey valid, crying.

“What?” Benny yelled at his Grandma and she almost had to cover her ears at his loud tone.

“Quiet down!” She hissed.

Benny was flabbergasted to say the least. YOU were in love with HIM? He couldn’t believe it, he’s not sure he fully did, but if his grandma was saying it then it had to be true.

“Oh my god. I-I have to go.” Benny stumbled on his feet backwards before turning around and running to the front door.

“We’ll talk about your punishment later!” Grandma shouted but doubted he heard it.

Benny’s feet took him all the way to Ethan’s house and he hurried up the stairs to the porch, skipping most of the steps, before pretty much banging on the door. “Ethan! Ethan, open up! I have major news!” Benny felt like his whole body was vibrating, he was ecstatic.

He was also out of breath, running all the way to Ethan’s did a number on him.

He saw a figure approaching the door and as it opened he realized it was Ethan’s mom, he would’ve been more confused as to why she was home so early in the day but he didn’t care right now. “Hi Mrs. Morgan, is Ethan home?”

How he got that whole sentence out without stuttering surprised him.

“Hi Benny, he’s upstairs in his room.”

“Great, thanks!” He pushed past her a bit rudely and ran up the stairs, skipping most of the steps and almost falling at one point before he caught himself and climbed the rest of the stairs with his hands which gave him extra speed.

He didn’t even knock on Ethan’s door, he grabbed the handle and forced it open, the knob hit the wall with a loud bang.

“Dude!” Ethan was in the middle of putting a shirt on, he fumbled with it. Benny pushed the door shut letting it slam.

“You are not going to believe this!”

“Oh no,” Ethan started to worry, “Your stupid potion worked?”

“No! No! It didn’t!”

“Then why are you so happy?” Ethan was extremely confused.

“Because she—oh my god I can’t even get it out I’m so happy—she’s already in love with me!”

“What?” Ethan yelled, though quieter than Benny did when he found out.

“That’s exactly what I said! Grandma told me that if the potion didn’t work that means she’s already in love with me!”

“Thank god.” Ethan let out a sigh of relief at the fact that you didn’t have a spell put on you. “I have to go ask her out, right?” Benny started to pace the room, his hands shaking slightly. “Oh god I’m so nervous.”

Ethan went over to him and placed his hands on Benny’s shoulders, “There’s nothing to be nervous about. You already know what her answer is going to be,” Ethan shrugged.

“Yeah. Yeah, you're right! Why am I worrying? I don’t know. She loves me, I’m going to be fine.”

“You are. But you have to tell her about the spell.”

Benny groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Yes! What if she were to find out and you weren’t the one to tell her?” Ethan asked, being much more rational than his friend. “How would she find out? We’re the only ones who know.” He gestured between himself and his best friend.

“Benny you have to! Listen to yourself! She has to know it’s not right if she doesn’t. You’re just going to ask her out and keep the fact that originally you were going to put a spell on her for her love? Act like it never happened?”

Benny bowed his head. “You’re right.” He hated telling Ethan that.

The next day he came to your house, yes the next day.

He was going to tell you the same day of his discovery but decided he needed to wait to collect his thoughts, think about how he was going to apologize.

“Hi, Benny!” He already felt weak in the knees at the pretty smile you sent him after you opened the door. “Hi, Y/N. Can we talk?”

Your smile faltered, now worried by his tone. “O-oh, yeah of course. Come on in.” You moved out of the door frame.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked him as you sat on your couch.

“I’m not sure how to say this,” He let out a sigh.

“Benny, you're scaring me.”

“I-um… gave you a love potion.” He spoke quietly but you heard him loud and clear.

“What?”

“I gave you a love potion.” He spoke louder.

“No—I heard you. Why would you do that?” You subconsciously scooted away from him.

A love potion.

Really?

“Why, Benny?” You were in disbelief.

“Because I wanted you to love me.”

“Benny,” You let out a scoff and stood up, “In no way ever is that a good enough reason. Why didn’t you just say something like a normal person and not put a stupid spell on me?”

“I know, I know, I just didn’t know how to say it and I didn’t think you would feel the same but I know you do.”

“And how would you know that? Hmm? Because your spell didn’t work.” Your tone was laced with malice.

He stood up and tried to grab your hands, you yanked them away.

“I know that because it didn’t work on you. Love potions don’t work if they are already in love with the person who created the spell.”

“I really wish you would’ve figured that out by asking me, Benny. Because right now I’m not so sure that love is there anymore.”

You were tearful. Not because you were sad (although you were at his actions) but because you were more mad than anything else. Mad that your friend felt like he had to go to an extreme measure to be with you.

“Don’t say that, please, Y/N.” He walked to where you stood on the other side of the room and you backed away. “Stay away from me, Benny. I don’t know how to feel right now.”

“This isn’t how I imagined this going,” He looked down.

“How did you expect it to go, Benny?! Did you think I would be a-okay with the fact that you essentially drugged me? I don’t know what you put the spell in—wait. My drink. The drink you gave me at lunch the other day! I thought it tasted weird! God, you are ridiculous. How could you do something like that to me? I thought we were friends. You had to have known this wouldn’t go well or you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

Benny wasn’t one to cry in front of you, only a couple of times which you oddly appreciated from him, but right now was one of those times, and you didn’t appreciate it.

You thought he had nothing to cry about, he wasn’t the one who got a spell put on him.

Maybe you were too harsh.

The spell hadn’t even worked, but what if it did?

“If you don’t have anything to say and you’re just going to stand here and cry you can leave. I don’t even know what to think right now.”

He nodded slightly. “I’m sorry.” He turned away and you rolled your eyes at his apology.

Benny could never do anything to make you mad at him, more so hate him, but he’d never done this before.

—

Words from Micky - Hiiii *awkwardly* so sorry for that, know you guys were probably expecting a happy Part 2 where they kiss or whatever but that didn’t happen this part clearly 😬. But!! Part 3 will be a happy ending and be written quicker, I’ve already got ideas flowin’. I really want to thank you guys for the love in Part 1, words can’t describe how happy I was/am whenever I see an interaction on it. I never thought the fic would be as popular as it is nor would I have thought my blog would gain that much recognition. Thank you all for the love I love you guys!! And thank you for accepting my bad stories that don’t come out well like I would have hoped, you guys mean a lot to me :’)

PART 1 (HERE) PART 3 (HERE) - - PART 3 COMING SOON COMMENT TO BE TAGGED!

FOLLOW MY WATTPAD: controversiallyoungf

[suzukiblu]

For Wip Wednesday is it possible to request one of each? Or would you prefer individual asks for different wipes?

the Gotham Kid

Trauma can do a lot to a person, though, and it’s not like the Alley isn’t spoiled for it. Kid’s only been here a few months, and he’s seen way worse than something a cheap dye job could cover up. 

Way, way worse. 

“Should it be, pretty boy?” Trish asks the guy, her smile pleasantly poisonous and familiarly shit-starting. Kid might have to rough up a couple guys before they're done here, he notes in mild resignation. Not that he blames her for wanting to make it clear that this isn't the time or place for outsiders to be fucking with anybody, but these guys haven't actually done any fucking with anybody yet. 

Though he does know better than to give anybody in Gotham too much benefit of the doubt, especially in Crime Alley. 

Superman would, but Superman would do a lot of things Kid can't afford to.

Could never afford to.

the one where Kon isn't the father

Tim cries all over himself and also Kon for way, way too long, but it’s–fine. It’s fine. He can explain looking like he cried to the Kents, because crying over his dead boyfriend coming back to life is a perfectly normal emotional response. 

And Kon is, technically, his dead boyfriend now. Or–not the dead part anymore, obviously, but–

“The cover’s good as-is,” Kon murmurs quietly as they’re sitting together in the far corner of the nursery. She’s still asleep. Tim couldn’t bring himself to leave her and go upstairs, though. “Like–what everybody assumed, I mean. They already all think it anyway, right? Like, they’re all already convinced. So coming up with a different lie might just make ‘em reexamine shit and maybe notice something, and that’d be a problem.” 

“It would,” Tim agrees in relief, glad that Kon understands that. But also . . . “But you want to tell them–you want to pretend about us, too?” 

“I don’t want anybody to have a single reason to doubt who Kyra’s other dad is,” Kon says. “Ever.” 

“You don’t have to do this,” Tim says, although if Kon doesn’t it's going to ruin his life. 

Ruin Kyra’s life, more importantly. 

“Fuck off, Rob, don’t tell me what to do,” Kon snorts the exact same way he used to in their Young Justice days, and Tim chokes on a sob of a laugh. Fuck, he’s missed him. 

He’s missed him so, so much.

Match technically is also a Luthor

Match finds that response . . . strange. Strange in several ways, in fact, because it almost sounded like Luthor was actually listening to what he said. 

Almost. 

“I take it there isn’t something less idiotic than ‘Subject Match’ to be calling you, then?” Luthor says. 

“No,” Match says. He doesn’t particularly care what anyone thinks of his designation–it’s perfectly serviceable–but he doesn’t know what he thinks of the way Luthor’s commenting on it. Like he thinks the Agenda should’ve . . . tried harder or something. 

That can’t be right, Match thinks. 

“Of course there’s not,” Luthor snorts dubiously. “Fine, I’ll come up with something bearable in the car. Now come along, I wasn’t actually joking about that meeting I have to terrorize. The board members have been getting ideas again, suicidal little optimists that they are.” 

“In the . . . car?” Match asks incredibly. What, did he just drive here? 

“That is what I said, yes,” Luthor says, then snaps his fingers impatiently beore turning back towards the door. “Keep up.” 

And Match doesn’t understand what the hell is happening here or even why it’s happening at all, but he doesn’t have orders and Luthor definitely does have kryptonite, or at least an Amazon or two, so Match just . . . 

Follows him.

weird Kryptonian bonding rituals

“Huh?” Clark startles, and they all look over at Lois. She looks triumphant, waving her phone. 

“Conner,” she repeats matter-of-factly. “It’s easy to pronounce, common enough he won’t constantly be having to spell it, but still uncommon enough there won’t be twelve other ones everywhere he goes. Also it means ‘lover of hounds’, so we have to get him a dog now. Do you want a dog, Conner? And, uh, also the name. Also do you want the name.” 

“. . . maybe?” Superboy looks curious, floating over to peer at the phone screen. “What’s having a dog like?” 

“It's nice, if you get one who's right for you and take good care of them,” Clark says, immediately resolving to find an apartment that allows pets. He’ll pay the pet fee. He’ll pay a monthly pet fee if he has to. Superboy can have all the dogs he wants. “It's rewarding. And, well–nice, again. Dogs are great, and they love people. Man’s best friend and all that, you know? Not that we necessarily count as that kind of ‘man’ because of the whole alien definitely-not-biological-weapons issue but–look, it’s fine, dogs are great! They don’t even get weird about us being the wrong species! Um. Not the wrong species, just . . .”

“A dog would love me?” Superboy tilts his head, then . . . blinks, very slowly. “Like–how much?” 

“Almost as much as we're going to,” Clark says, his chest clenching tightly.

the last son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon

“We’ll help you however we can,” Clark promises again, slightly rephrased, and Kon looks surprised. 

“Um–you sure it's not a problem?” he hedges awkwardly. “I can, like, go bother somebody who’s less busy . . .” 

Clark cannot imagine ever being busy enough to ignore this kid, much less pawn him off on someone else. That is not a thing that he is ever going to do, no matter how long it takes to get Kon home. He’s another Kryptonian, and one who’s proudly wearing the El crest and carrying both genes and a name from a version of him. How could he do anything less than his best for him? 

“It’s not a problem at all,” he says firmly, giving Kon’s shoulder another squeeze before dropping his hand away. 

“Certainly not,” Diana agrees. 

“It’s definitely a problem,” Bruce mutters under his breath, like he’s never picked up a random stray kid who he doesn’t know anything about except how much they needed his help. Hypocrite, Clark thinks both wryly and fondly.

[yan-lorkai]

Are you writing for om nb too? If so, could you write something with Solomon slowly giving mc sleeping pills to make it impossible for them to leave Cocytus Hall?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Hii, anonie, yes I'm writing for both obey me games! And I gotta say that Nb is making me love Solomon even more than I already did, he's just so euwklwks *makes grabby hands* y'know? Heh, I hope u like this!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, toxic relationship, drugging.

The last few months have been dull. The routine had quickly become tiresome, but you liked feeling that you were at least home - or, as home as you could be, since the only person who remembered the future was Solomon. Still, it was nice to be able to see the high hills embracing the castle's contours, the artificial sun created by Diavolo, and even the slow construction of the RAD, even if in the past, even if no one remembered you, you were surrounded by the people you loved.

And that was what mattered.

However, you assume that all the strong emotions you felt started to get to you. In the mornings your pillow and your blankets still seemed to call out to you, to cry out for your still tired body to succumb to its desires and for you to return to the world of dreams. And every morning you almost gave in.

It was almost as if you had been bewitched the moment you stepped into Devildom, but that was just ridiculous, surely you would be able to sense a curse being placed on you. Or, Solomon would realize, he knew a lot and you trusted him.

Today, however, you gave in to that urge. Your eyelids were so heavy, your body so tired and you slept for half the day without a care in the world.

'Maybe your vitamin D is low, sleepyhead.' Solomon speculated softly, watching you emerge into his room looking like a kitten just starting to take its first steps, clothes wrinkled and hair completely messed up. And he smiles at the sight.

He says that, but you know the first few months down here are tough for him too. However, he's more used to it than you are, coming down here to collect herbs and other ingredients for his dangerous and strange potions, and unlike you, he doesn't feel as sleepy.

You roll your eyes at the teasing tone in his voice as you lean over his shoulder to peek into what he's been working on. Once again a suspicious potion, bubbling up rings of steam and spreading a weird smell in the air, you tried not to think about it too much as you hugged him like a koala. "Well, technically speaking I bought some medicine to help you with that drowsiness this morning. It's right there."

But you didn't move. Not when another wave of drowsiness hit you, preferring instead to inhale the soft scent of the shampoo he used, murmuring thanks as you struggled to open your eyes, to move your body.

You felt soft hands caress yours, lightly, and then Solomon circled you to the chair he was sitting in and pulled you into his lap. And his arms so protective and warm were as comforting as the little song he hummed to you.

"Although you're adorable and makes me want to kiss you, I need you to swallow this pill and get back to being awake," he chuckled. Pushing a small pill into your mouth and offering you a glass of water he conjured with magic. He watched you swallow every last drop of water, watched even more as your eyes fluttered closed as doubts loomed in your mind.

Really, you should never have accepted the potions he offered you without thinking twice about his intentions.

Really, you should have listened to the brothers and walked away. He knows, he always knew that they advised you to stay away from him - anyone would have done the same.

And really, he doesn't regret it. He has no regrets about brewing sleeping potions, he has no regrets about drugging you with pills he made himself, and he certainly has no regrets about holding your tired body while he manipulates your dreams. Your dreams are pleasant and he loves watching them like someone watches their favorite movie over and over again, and a smile grows on his lips knowing that in your dreams there is only him and you.

Because it's just a happily ever after with him and you. No brothers, no Barbatos, Diavolo or Simeon. He's all the company you need, he's all you need.

[astrangetorpedo]

IN INTERVIEW

Julien Baker, the interview 6/8/2016

At just 20 years old, Julien Baker gave us last year a first album of intense and rare emotional force, the superb Sprained Ankle reviewed here . A moving record that left a deep and lasting mark on me. It was therefore impossible to miss the young American's arrival in Paris and not to take advantage of the opportunity to try to get to know this outstanding artist a little better. A meeting was thus organized thanks to the invaluable help of Sean, her manager, in a café in the 12th arrondissement, two hours before the young lady's very first Parisian concert, on May 24. A one-on-one meeting that revealed to me an adorable and voluble young woman, incredibly touching and sincere, and above all determined to seize life with all her might! A moment of exchange and sharing that I am not ready to forget.

Hello Julien!

Julien Baker : Hello!

First of all, thank you very much for granting us this interview. I am a big fan of your music and it makes me really happy to meet you!

Oh, thank you! It's a great pleasure for me too, you know! I still can't believe that people like my music enough to want to meet me to talk about it. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, really!

Perfect! Let’s start at the beginning of your story. I read that you’ve been making music for a while now. Could you summarize the journey that led you to where you are today?

Yeah, sure! I started listening to music in middle school. It was rock, I was really into it with painted nails, black eye makeup, all that stuff! [laughs] Then I started playing in bands, punk bands mostly. Then I joined Forrister which is the band I still play in today. We were playing shows in cities around our area. Then I went to college and a friend of mine who worked in a studio there offered me to record with him for free. Since my band couldn't be there, I did it solo, without any specific plans. I put the album out on Bandcamp for $2 or $3 a copy.

That's when Sean [Julien's manager] contacted me and suggested we release the album in a more official and professional way. I told him that I was actually in a band, Forrister, and that no one would be interested in me as a solo artist. He insisted and even though I didn't believe it at all, I agreed to give it a try. I'll always remember the day he called me to tell me that NPR [National Public Radio] was going to play my single. I hung up crying and immediately called my mom all excited to tell her the news! But then, as things seemed to start to take off for me, I started to doubt myself. I felt guilty towards the rest of the band, thinking that they would resent me for doing this project without them. So I called the drummer and asked him what they thought and he said they were just proud and super happy and not mad at me in any way. So I kept going and here I am! I never thought I would come to Europe and do all this, it's crazy, really!

During the band's time, did you already have this desire to write your own songs?

I don't think I had any real unfulfilled desire to do this.

But you were writing?

Yes, I wrote my own songs. But not because the band was holding me back or preventing me from doing it within the collective. It's just that sometimes you write songs but they don't fit the moment. So I put those lyrics aside, like that, without any specific goal. I've always written and played in different bands. There was enough space for all that, things didn't have to be done exclusively in one framework or another.

Were your parents musicians?

Not really. Well my dad bought me a guitar and showed me how to play it. So I started playing by practicing at home on my own. I also took piano lessons but for a very short time. My teacher didn't really like me because I didn't work hard enough. I just played by ear without wanting to learn to read music and he didn't like that. So I taught myself. But my parents were big music fans. They played records all the time at home. When I was younger I wanted to go to a concert, my dad would come with me to make sure I was safe! He was the only adult in the middle of all these tattooed and pierced kids! [laughs] Oddly enough it never bothered me. When he made a surprise appearance at the Bowery Ballroom for my concert in New York, I was so proud! He and my mom have always been a great support!

This is really great!

Yes I know !

In addition to being an author and composer, you are also a student. Are you still going to university?

I just finished my semester. It's currently summer vacation. But I think I'm going to take a break in the fall. I completed the theoretical part of my literature course thanks to online courses. The last thing I need to fully validate my teaching diploma is the practical part, in school with students. I tried to do it last fall but it's complicated to carry out both projects at the same time: give lessons during the week then take a plane to California or New York on the weekend to play a concert, before returning to teach on Monday morning! So I'm going to take a break to devote all my time to music.

Do you want to teach one day?

I think I would really enjoy teaching. I love it. As a teenager I was a summer camp counselor, I love children. So yes it would be really cool to teach!

You studied literature. Did that influence your way of writing?

Yes, totally! I try to feed myself as much as I can from all these different ways of perceiving life and emotions that I find in books. It enriches me intellectually speaking. I have the feeling of learning new things about myself each time I discover a new author and this is then reflected in my writing I think, consciously or unconsciously.

Are you familiar with French literature?

Voltaire! I often joke with my professor friends that I would really like to have a big Voltaire and Cervantes tattoo! I already have a Gabriel Garcia Marquez tattoo [Julien then shows me his 2-part tattoo on the inside of his 2 wrists]…

Is he your favorite writer?

One of my favorites, I can't choose just one! And so when my students would complain that Voltaire is an old man who's not cool, I could show them my Voltaire tattoo and prove to them that it's really cool! [laughs] Reading Candide really changed my life. It was incredible! I think the translation of the title is The Optimist , which is quite ironic. Cervantes wrote Don Quixote and we have this word in English, "quixotic" which means optimistic but optimistic to the extreme, to the point where even if everything is going wrong in your life and you know it, you continue to believe in it despite everything. There is a really romantic and admirable dimension to that attitude I find. Same for Candide where there is this quote that I always come back to when I feel really bad and which says: "I wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but I still loved life" . I think I cried when I first read that sentence. Anyway, I could talk about literature for hours, don't drag me down that dangerous path! [laughs]

Haha, ok. So back to the music! Listening to your album I couldn't help but think of two other artists I really like: Sharon Van Etten and TORRES…

I love TORRES!

Me too! I even did my very first interview with her!

Wow! She's amazing!

Do you agree with this comparison even if the artists in question do not come from the same scene as you?

I totally agree with this comparison! As a teenager I only listened to punk and thought that anything that wasn't punk was worthless. Then I grew up as a musician and learned to appreciate all styles. When you really love music, you love an artist as long as their music is honest and good, no matter what the style. It doesn't matter if it's hip hop or country or whatever!

I totally agree!

And so I'm a big fan of TORRES! I loved her first album, the one before Sprinter . The song Honey is the very first one I heard from her.

The same !

And oh my god, what a song! I played with her in Chicago, I was added as the opening act at the very last minute, I felt so honored! On my way to the dressing room, I ran into her and as I was saying "Oh sorry, I don't want to bother you" she said "No, come on, this is a shared space, you have as much right to be here as I do" and she kindly invited me in. As for Sharon, it's funny because the first time I met her, she asked me to have lunch with her, can you imagine having lunch in New York with Sharon Van Etten! And she told me she was also going to invite her friend Mackenzie [Mackenzie Scott aka TORRES]. But our phones died and we couldn't get a hold of her. So in Chicago TORRES couldn't make the connection, I was just the little girl at the door!

Excellent! Are there any other musical influences that you would claim?

Do you know David Banzan?

Nope…

Ok. There's a band called Pedro The Lion and David Bazan is the lead singer. He influenced me quite a bit. And do you know Death Cab For Cutie?

Yes of course !

They were the first non-punk band I listened to. At the time I only listened to loud and fast music, but when I heard Transatlanticism for the first time it was a shock, everything changed. They really meant a lot to me.

Your texts are very strong and very personal. When you wrote them, did you think about the impact they could have on those around you first and then on the general public?

Well, at first, I didn't imagine that this solo album would lead me anywhere, I was convinced that my music would only be made with my band Forrister. So when I released the album on Bandcamp, I really thought that only my friends would listen to it. So I wrote all these songs like that, just for me, without really thinking about the scope of the lyrics. And I'm ultimately happy that I didn't think about it because if I had known what was waiting for me, I think I would have most certainly changed things, I would have probably been more reserved in my words. But if it's difficult for me to show my vulnerability, I realize that it's totally worth it when young people come up to me after concerts to tell me that my music has helped them in difficult times in their lives. It's of course a little embarrassing for me to share such intimate things but if these things make others feel good, then I think it's worth it in the end.

But isn't it a little scary to expose yourself so completely naked and transparent? It's so brave, I don't know if I could do it myself!

Well, you see, it's exactly the same for me, I'm not sure I would have been able to do it if I had known everything in advance! But now that it has happened, I feel that from now on I have the right, the license to be brave. Perhaps it was the plans of destiny or God, something like that.

And isn't it too difficult for you to sing songs every day that inevitably bring you back to painful moments?

I think there are two options. Option one: I can sing these songs every night, let them take me back in time and feel sorry for myself. Option two: there is the quote from this poet that I love who says that all the horrible things in life just need to be seen from a different and courageous perspective. Things that seem bad can indeed turn out to be good in the end. So I have chosen to let the dark and sad aspects of my songs become pretexts to be positive and happy. Because yes, all these things have happened to me but if that had not been the case, I probably would never have written these lyrics and I would not be here today in Paris talking to you, Laurence! In the grand scheme of things, everything has a meaning and works for our good in the end.

That's very beautiful what you say! [laughs] To talk about lighter things, this is your first time in Europe, isn't it?

Yes !

How do you feel?

I love it! I have such a good time. Well I don't sleep much... [laughs]

Is it the time difference or the excitement?

Well now it's the excitement! But a week ago it was also the jet lag [laughs]. Imagine, we traveled for over 30 hours straight to get here! I first took a plane to Richmond and then a train to Washington DC. We then took a flight to Iceland where we took another flight to Copenhagen. Once there we took a train but due to a problem on the tracks we had to take a bus that took us to another train! When we arrived at the hotel, we were totally exhausted! [laughs] It was 11 o'clock in the evening but at that time of year the sun hadn't set because we were so far north and my body didn't understand anything at all! But hey after a good night's sleep everything was better! And now if I don't sleep it's just because I don't want to miss anything, not a single minute you know! I thought I would never be able to afford to travel and once again it seems that Destiny's plans are extraordinarily kind to me. I feel so grateful and lucky!

And that's just the beginning!

I hope so! But you know, even if everything had to stop, well in any case it would have been much, much more than I could have imagined! I am so grateful for everything that is happening to me!

Are there any particular places you want to discover?

Sean has been here before and wants to show me places he liked. Today he took me to see the Sacré-Cœur which is beautiful. On my side, there are also places I would like to visit, especially in Barcelona, ​​because I am majoring in Spanish literature. I would like to go to the café where Picasso had his very first exhibition, long before he was famous. I would also like to see the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's work, visit a museum, buy a Viva Cataluña t-shirt and eat paella. I am so excited to be able to do all these things!

That's great! But it's going to take you some time to do all of this!

We are staying there for the whole festival [Primavera Sound Festival]. So we should have some time. Of course we won't sleep much because in the evening I also want to attend the concerts!

You'll sleep when you get home!

Exactly! Since I am a big coffee drinker, one of my friends gave me a badge for my jacket that says "I will sleep when I am dead" ! [laughs] There are indeed so many things to experience in one life! [laughs]

And what are your plans for after the European tour?

We're actually going to be touring until the end of the year.

Will you come back to Europe?

We're going to Australia in November I think. I can't wait! We're also going to tour the States so as for Europe I don't really know... And then I hope to have some free time early next year. I'm always writing new songs that I play live. I must have 30 demos on my computer and I'd really like to record them. So it would be great if I could get into the studio early next year!

Last question: do you have one or more musical recommendations to share with us?

Lucy Dacus!

Oh I love it!

We played together in Washington DC. I had never heard her songs before Washington and I remember hearing the lyrics to Map On A Wall which say "I hope good comes from good and good comes from bad anyway" and I started crying all by myself watching her play. Her music is so beautiful, so powerful! And we have so much in common: questions of spirituality, sexuality and faith, questions about gender too and the place of girls in rock music. We are really like two halves of the same person. We have the same booker and were approached by the same label. And when I saw her again in Richmond I knew we operated exactly the same way. So our biggest fear is that we will one day become jaded and arrogant. We want to remain grateful, sincere and enthusiastic. There are so many people who do this for a long time and end up jaded. It's really great to find someone who feels exactly the same way you do, and that's the case with Lucy. We're platonic soulmates! She's a very, very dear friend.

You must tell her at all costs to come and shoot in Europe and in Paris because there are people waiting for her here!

Promise! I'll send her a message as soon as I have wifi!

Lucy Dacus! A perfect choice! Thank you very much Julien!

Thank you! It was great!

photos by jean-marc ferré 📸

interview by lolo from paris (who has great footage of that paris show on his youtube account) 📝

wayback link for the interview 🔗

[pen-observing]

the brothers react to you losing love for them

a/n: I haven't opened this game in a while so it made me think about this angst!! enjoy it

Lucifer has this tendency to over analyse everything that goes around him and truth be told, you are no exception to that. Did you really think he wouldn't notice that you've grown doubtful of your own love? That you've suddenly found more and more excuses not to spend time with him? He can see how painful this is for you. Your eyes still sparkle when you see him and your heart skips a beat but somehow it lessens to where that shine becomes dimmed. He finds it funny, how, in his experience, it is humans who lose feelings quicker than him and those so much older. Lucifer has principles that he holds everyone and himself to - and one of those is lessening your burdens. Your feelings have changed and you are trying to come to terms with that but he doubts you would ever approach him about it yourself. So, he brings it up first.

And when he does bring it up - it is on the most mundane night. The two of you did not travel to a special place, you didn't even leave the house. He invited you in his study to simply see just how much his company is no longer a complete comfort. And when he lifts his head up from those pesky papers, he sees you staring out the window.

It hurts him but he still says: "You're allowed to leave." He can see that you're confused. "You're allowed to leave me, my love." He can't stop himself from calling you that. Here he is, lessening up the burden for you, telling you to break up with him - but it is with everlasting love that he makes this easy for you.

Mammon simply refuses to believe anything has changed. For someone so intrinsically impulsive and naturally intuitive - he lies to himself and would gladly do it forever. 'Yes, my human's hand doesn't grip mine as tightly as it did before.' and 'Yes, they're sometimes lost in their own world but..they're human! Humans are known for this!'. You have to be the one to do it. Mammon simply wants to live in this love forever. Some have looked at him with pity for it but he has no problems. As long as they don't say anything. As long as he can believe his own love is enough - he pays it absolutely no mind.

Except, he has to listen to you. And even you were not sure how to bring it up. However, while he was resting his head in your lap during a 'throw-whatever-movie-on' night; the couple on the screen broke up and it was like something got lost between the two of you. It started as a simple debate over if the couple should have broken up at all. Mammon and you were on opposite sides of course and it caused an argument. After it escalated he simply yelled 'break up with me already. stop being dishonest!'. It simply flew out. He never wanted it to be said by anyone but he couldn't like anymore.

And break up you did. It was odd, you had to comfort him about it, you had to live with him and hear him crying, you had to see his puffy eyes. And Mammon kept protecting you still. Just...give him time. Give him forever if you can. Forgive him when he introduces you as his significant other, forgive him when a loving nickname slips out and forgive him for when he simply looks like he is begging for your love while you call him 'your best friend.'

Leviathan somehow ends up taking it far easier than you would have imagined. He always live in this state of thinking that the worst is coming to him and, it is not a betrayal, that he imagined you breaking up with him several times. He has had nightmares about it and he has had intrusive thoughts. But, the difference from this time vs any other - is reality itself. Before, he would open up to you about his nightmare and you would hold him dearly. You would chase it all away. You would reassure him that his doubts were just the worst parts of him coming to surface.

But, this time, you have to comfort him about the reality of his situation. His doubts were grounded this time and they came true. His love and his tries were simply not enough.

Now, you have to give him space. Too much space. How does he rationalise wanting to see you all the time and never wanting to see you love someone else?

It truly doesn't matter what you or his brothers or even he himself does - he will end up hurting for a long time. But, it is fine...his love has no place to go, but he thinks that letting you go proves just how strong it is.

Maybe one day - you will come back to him.

Satan thinks it is a curse to be able to tell when someone doesn't want him around. And the worst part of it all is the fact that you are not even aware what you feel. He can tell. He could always tell. You don't know why time with him spent seems longer and longer nor do you know why you are not fulfilled as you were before.

Satan has not changed nor has his love - but your feelings are starting to become lost instead of grow. You still look at him with loving eyes but he constantly asks himself 'how much longer? how much longer until they realize it? until they leave me?'. That is no way to live and sustain a relationship and he brings it up first during an expensive dinner. You are trying to properly cut the meal and he looks at you from across the table.

"Do you remember what I told you once during our morning tea?" "I...I don't think I do. Which morning tea exactly?" "When we first started dating." He can tell you do not remember so he continues. "I told you that if your feelings ever start to change you should immediately tell me."

It is...pitying how you look at him in such a confused way. You haven't figured it out yet. But after this you will.

"You will regret breaking up with me." His old habits are hard to break. It seems like an angry sentence but it is not a threat or anything of the sort. He says it as an observation - as a hope to himself.

"My feelings have not changed. Even if your own probably have. But, please remember everything I have said."

The two of you continue to eat dinner. But something tells him once this is over - nothing will be the same as before.

Asmodeus will never not equate your love lessening to him not being good enough. And that is precisely why he takes it the worst out of any person you could know. Asmodeus has so much love to give, and his identity and pride center on loving and being loved in return. He tries everything he can. More expensive treatments, better skin care, fancier dates and bigger romantic gestures. He even reads books on how human emotions change and every single time he turns onto a new page - his heart breaks. He can notice even the smallest signs that lead up to it.

But, when the signs are small, he figures that he can fight them with just grander gestures. That your doubt is temporary and soon all of your love will find its way back to him.

But Asmo never likes fake flattery or fake love extended in his direction. If your words are not true - don't say them at all. If your love is lessening - at least respect him so much that you are honest about it.

"I never expected this..." "Hmm, Asmo? You never expected what?"

The two of you are in his bed, cuddled up close.

"I have had people not fall for me at all - but I never expected you would fall for me so hard and then slowly lose your love." His arms tighten around you as he says it. What is there left now?

Beelzebub has always been so kind to you. That the realization of your lack of love comes as a natural thing after a long time. Why? In his kind nature - he never demanded anything of you. Beel accepted what you would give and never made you feel uncomfortable with what you were not willing to do. In simple terms, his whole being adjusts to you. And when he sees you shy away, when he sees you get lost, when he sees even the slightest hint of hesitation - he stops. And with it, the two of you carry on with the title of a couple but the parameters change. You two are definitely in a relationship it doesn't matter that your kisses lessen until they almost disappear. All that matters is that you find comfort in one another's presence.

Others have tried to bring it up but your love is simply confusing to everyone around you. It is like the both of you are oblivious to the changes until one day, when your own heart skips a beat when you see a stranger on the street.

And then you realize it. Somewhere, you've lost the title of a couple. You've simply transformed into great friends without realizing it. So, by the time you bring it up - both you and Beel are fine with it. This breakup doesn't cause either of you pain and...hurting him would be the last thing you would want.

Except, you will never know that Beel has realized it a bit before you, that he had to get over you before he was ready to let you go.

Belphegor never sees his love lessening and he cannot imagine it ever would. So what if he notices the signs? It doesn't mean that he will act on them. He has written papers on humans before and he is wiling to call this one of your 'temporary changes' that would later on make you realize just how much you actually love him.

But he gets impatient so quickly. He is as he always was in this relationship but you are slowly creating a distance between the two of you. He can tell how you are going to talk to him about your feelings soon and he absolutely hates it. He can see it coming when you look at the ceiling with empty and insecure eyes; and instead of letting you speak, he holds you so tightly that he buries his face into the pillow.

"Don't do it. Don't you dare tell me."

And you immediately know what he is referring to.

"I don't wish to hear it." And you want to tell him that he has to. That its been a long time coming.

"Let me sleep instead; stay in my arms for a little while longer."

Your break up with him has no chance of ever being pretty. He will simply tell you 'no' and 'don't you dare make me listen to that.' and 'let me love you a bit longer.' But, after you finally refuse to listen to him and tell him how it is - over time, he will find it in himself to forgive you. But he needs so long to actually get used to you not being there for him to love anymore.

[daemonwritesstuff]

AEGON II & HIS BELOVED AELLARA TARGARYEN

A/N: this is yet another trade with my best bud @sugutoad !! I’m so happy to do yet another one of these and I hope I did this one with justice (I think I’m just gonna go dig up a hole and die in there once this is posted 🧍) but I will forever be grateful to do so many matchups with ya 😭❤️ here ya go! and yes this is aegon x anna’s OC!

It was a peaceful evening for the two couples Aegon and Aellara, they spend their nights together in each other rooms or someone deep into the night with no one around, it was just them together in the world.

 Aellara and Aegon’s relationship was a secret, no one knew about them only his family did, including his sister-wife Helaena, she understood their situation and aware of how in love they were, she wouldn’t interfere with them…

One night where Aellara and Aegon usually met up frequently, this time they were in his own chambers… When Aegon and Aellara are in each others arms she decides to ask a question to her beloved and it was a very simple question that no one should really be upset about, she asked the boy “Are we ever gonna be together?” Aegon got out of her arms in confusion, why was she asking such a question?

“Of course we are…” Aegon assured her but it really wouldn’t last long and the tension started getting more stronger, Aellara was losing her hope… her thoughts kept bugging her, telling herself that maybe this love was not meant to be.

She had said it out loud… not knowing that Aegon was still with her, he got up and started yelling at her… telling her that they will be together but Aellara is sick of hearing the same thing, if Aegon really loves her and wants her then wouldn’t he do something about this marriage he was in and finally be with her?

“I… I don’t think this was meant to be…” she said as she let out her sobs, her pain, everything single horrible thing she has ever thought of, she let all of it out during this breakdown, before Aegon could even say a word she unstably got up, lifted her dress and started running away sobbing, Aegon’s soul was screaming at him to tell his guards to go after her, to stop her, but the words… nothing could come out of his mouth as his heart kept putting pressure on him and he started crying.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It’s been a few days since he was last spoken to Aellara, she has not spoken face to face with him recently and he began to grow anxious, waiting for her to come back to him so he can be in the comfort of her arms, the real place he called “home”.

He decided to use his sword and start attacking a wooden statue (meant for using swords) to let out his anger, Criston just happened to be waking by and stopped by and asked Aegon if he wanted to duel with him, and without a doubt he did… this lasted for a few hours until Aegon has gotten tired and decided to sit down.

Aegon told Criston how he can make it up to his beloved, Aellara… how he can fix things with her once again, it took Criston a few moments to figure out something and tell him, he told him that he can invite her somewhere she wants to go, no questions or anything, just to take her. He also added that he can divorce Helaena somehow and try to plead to his mother to let him marry Aellara.

Aegon who listened to Cristons words decided to do exactly what he said, he had got the cooks to pack him and his mistress a meal, one of his liking and of her liking so he can make it up to her, after the meals have been cooked and brought to him Aegon bumps into Aellara and tells her to come with him and he has a surprise, she was a little bit suspicious of what he was doing but never declined, just giving short answers like “Ok”.

He wanted to take her dragon to go and eat but Aellara took a liking to his dragon and insisted that she would like to go on his dragon, he could never decline anything his beloved wanted, so he decided to take her on Sunfyre and fly off to the destination he planned to take her.

Once they arrive they got to a garden that they both enjoyed going to here and there for dates, it was also the same garden he also took her to on his first date with her. They start talking like they normally do and after some time after talking there’s a silence, but Aellara decides to break that silence and lean over to kiss him, and then Aegon gives her a few pecks back and they both smile sweetly to each other.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After their pleasant little picnic they enjoyed Aegon takes her to go walk up a hill, enjoying the view of the sunset, he tells her “Do you ever wanna just run away?” Aellara giggles at his silly question and jokes back with him, causing him to start joking back with her and telling her (terrible) jokes that make her crack up.

After they stop laughing at some point Aellara decided to tell him something that she needed to tell him (before the argument never happened) but she was nervous to, after getting him to listen to her she decided to tell him that she is with a child…

His smile fell, but after a few seconds his smile came back and he picked her up and started spinning her around in joy and starts celebrating a little that he’s gonna have a child with her! But he sooner realizes that the child might be a bastard and is worried about how she’ll react, but Aellara reassures him that she doesn’t care as long has their child has their father with them in their life.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After Aegon heads back he immediately tries to talk with his parents and his grandfather, Otto Hightower. Aegon immediately tells them that he wants a divorce with Helaena and to let him marry Aellara, she was also of his blood too and it would strengthen more of the bond more.

Viserys refuses this at first because of their traditions and tells him that he shouldn’t try to do that, to keep the tradition going and he focuses on his legos after that 💀. On the other hand with Alicent and Otto also persist and they start bringing up the history of the Dawn’s Empire between House Dayne and House Targaryen (which was kind of stupid to compare that to…)

But after some time, Viserys will allow him to marry Aellara and get divorced with Helaena (much to his sisters joy, she can finally be free from being queen and go back to focusing more on her insects).

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After some months, Aellara and Aegon are officially married! They got married in the way of Old Valyria since it would strengthen them more through soul and no one would be able to separate them at all, not even the gods.

Their party was amazing and so much fun, lavish but the room was filled with joy, there was a lot of singing, talking and dancing, there was no bad stuff happening at all, all anxiety and fear was gone, it was a refresh for a better life they were about to have. Aellara and Aegon were made for each other and no one could ever separate them, no matter how much they try.

[danibee33]

hostage

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (goes by “Saint”)

based on a post by @call-me-doll-face! your vision for this song (“hostage” by Billie Eilish) was just too perfect😭 I couldn’t get it out of my head. I hope you love it as much as I do.

tags: angst & smut, ok it’s very angsty, did I cry? yes

word count: 5.7k (sry I got carried away)

+++

The files strewn across your desk only come back into focus at the sound of three crisp, concise knocks on your door. You blink away the dryness, eyes darting toward the open window to see its pitch dark outside now- shit.

Two more knocks resound through the room, they're a little more forceful this time, urging you to push away from the organized chaos, crossing the short span on tingling feet. You hadn’t meant to lose track of time like that, but after the debrief you needed something to distract you, get your mind off the bitter taste the meeting had left in your mouth-

“Target’s in the wind after the attack in Yemen-”

You change the map, zooming in on a tiny Bedouin village- the settlement no more than a speck in the vast desert, “But we’ve intercepted and translated some chatter from local law enforcement that are on Abaza’s payroll.” – the room goes dark for half a second before the next slide flashes on the screen- “Seems he’s following his pattern of hiding behind civilians.”

The room is silent, save for the rapid clicking of Soap’s pen against the desk- one of the restless man’s many tics, and Price’s furious scribbling. Gaz is eyeing the map studiously, his lips twitching as he muses through the routes and planning- no doubt trying to predict what the Captain will do.

Ghost is just.. Looming. Perched in his usual corner, arms crossed over his chest as he contemplates the information and intel given, eyes lazy and half-lidded even when Price stands, coming to stand at your side.

“Bloody good work, Saint.”

He pats your shoulder, taking over your spot as you settle in a seat at the table, and you try to listen intently- short-handing a few notes you might have missed as the Captain dives into the plan. The others pitch in ideas along the way, logistics and safety for the civilian population; but, it was extraction that gave you pause.

“There will be no cover- that encampment is too exposed.” You only realize you had spoken the thought out loud when you hear a soft huff from behind you,

“Very perceptive, Sec.” Ghost grumbles, his usual sarcasm somehow thicker, more exasperated.

Could you have held back your overly dramatic eye roll? Of course. But it’s fucking Ghost, and all you can hope is that he sees it- just like you know he sees your middle finger held up over your shoulder.

He knows you hated the way he ignored your call sign in favor of using the belittling, diminutive of your rank instead. It’s always been ‘Sec’ for him, short for Second Lieutenant, never one to let you, or anyone else, forget that he outranks you-

But, you’re used to it. That’s just the relationship you and him have had from the start, always this brutally competitive tension between you- which never made sense to anyone else. Especially considering your specialities are on opposite ends of the spectrum, each of you serving your own unique role to make the team function and perform like the well-oiled machine it’s been honed into.

And, to be honest, you’re not sure why you ever let him get under your skin either. You’ve worked with plenty of egotistical superiors and subordinates alike, and it’s never stopped you from reaching and surpassing every single goal you set for yourself. If anything, it’s only pushed you to work that much harder- usually at the cost of any sort of personal life, which is actually how you got your callsign-

“Saint” - ‘the only officer in the SAS who might make it to heaven’

You thought it was silly, but over the years it grew on you. And now, it just feels like what your name has always been, even if everyone knows you rarely make it far in the military by being an actual saint-

“Yes, extraction will be the most difficult part-”

Price’s voice brings you back to the present moment, head snapping up when you sense the giant presence standing next to your chair, “It’s a two-person job, then?”

Ghost’s voice has lost all its amusement and sarcasm, and his gaze feels heavier somehow as he looks over the screen. You watch him for a moment, catching all the nuances in his outward body language that are so imperceptible to others- though, you sometimes wish you weren’t so in tune with him. Wish you didn’t know exactly why you could pick up on these things when no one else could..

“That’s what I was thinkin’-” Price nods, looking between his two sergeants, “Soap, you’ll be second, running interference with some well place distractions?”

You watch Johnny practically vibrate with excitement, shooting you and Ghost a wink,

“Ka-freakin’-boom, baby. You an’ me, LT. The dream team!”

But again, you notice Ghost’s lack of snarky response, verbally and non-verbally, it unnerves you-

“Saint, you’ll be with them-”

“No.”

It takes you a second to react, not sure if you had heard it correctly- maybe you had missed something and he had barked the word over another matter entirely. But then, you hear Gaz and Soap be dismissed, and suddenly you’re standing beside Ghost, you and Price speaking the same question at the same time,

“No?”

Ghost shrugs, refusing to look down at you, “Don’t need ‘er there, Boss. Nothin’ she can’t feed us over radio.”

“First, I’m right here- and second, you don’t get to decide what I can or can’t do-”

Price looks at you, his expression only hinting at confusion as he watches you cross your arms now, mirroring your lieutenant's posture, “Captain-”

Something flashes through the stormy blue of his eyes then, something you can’t even begin to place. But it doesn’t really matter, because you don’t get to finish your protests- cut off instead by an apologetic hum,

“He’s right, Saint-”

“What!?”

You’re not in the business of challenging authority, at least not the authority of a man you genuinely respect like John, but you can’t help it- this wasn’t the first time you’ve been benched, and you know it’s not the first time it’s been Ghost the one ordering it.

Price glances at his watch before scrubbing a hand over his face, “Bloody hell-”, he rounds up the files and tucks them under one arm, holding his mug with the other, “We’ll finish this later, clear?”

Just like that- he’s gone. And you’re left with the suffocating shadow still staring at the image on the wall,

“Don’t take it personally, Sec.”

Your hands clench and unclench, nails leaving stinging little crescents in your palm before turning on your heel, “Fuck you, Ghost.”

You know who’s on the other side of your door. You always do. It’s been your routine for the last year and half- You do have to give it to the insufferable fucking prick for coming to you so soon after what he had done, though.

But, sure enough, the door swings open and there he is. Simon Riley, towering in your doorway, covered head to toe in a black hoodie and dark jeans, his face even further obscured under the hood- all you can see clearly are his eyes. And they’re intensely focused on you.

“Don’t worry, Price called.” You say, leaning against the frame-

He gives you nothing, seconds ticking by as he stands there like a statue, slowly scanning your face like he’s done a thousand times before. It used to make you uncomfortable, how he would look at you that way, like he was peeling you open, layer by layer- and it still does, like now. But, you’ve gotten used to his idiosyncrasies, at times even find them oddly endearing, if he weren’t such a dick.

“Can I come in?”

A sigh fills the air between you, followed by you glaring up at him- you want to say ‘no’, give him another big ‘fuck you’ middle finger and slam the door in his face; maybe even say fuck your arrangement all together, because now it’s becoming a pattern, him sidelining you.. But, you do none of those things. Because it’s him. Always fucking him.

So, you roll your eyes and turn back into the room, not bothering to invite him in because he knows the open door is your way of allowing it.

Instantly, your cozy abode feels ten times smaller and a hundred times warmer with him in it- it causes your skin to flush and your fingers to twitch, that restlessness you tend to feel when you were alone with him, crawling over you, burrowing itself in your chest.

“You’re mad.”

“Very perceptive, Ghost.” You throw his words from earlier back at him, crossing your arms because you honestly never knew what to do with your hands when you talked to him.

They always wanted to reach out for him- you were no better than Pavlov’s salivating dog when it comes to Simon fucking Riley. He had trained you so well without ever even having to try.

God, you hate him. And you hate yourself even more for know that’s not true in the slightest- “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doin’ what?” He shifts on his feet, fists still shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie.

You throw your hands up, “Benching me like this! There’s no reason I shouldn’t be on the ground with you and Soap, just like I usually am.”

“There’s no reason you should be, either.”

That awful itch creeps down your spine, tickling your legs and feet. The need to move, to exert some kind of energy before you implode forcing you to pace. You’ll never understand him, no matter how much time you spend together, or how many nights you waste sweaty and clinging to each other, words never meant for the waking world spoken between you- you will never understand him.

Never understand why he can’t just be hot or cold, why he can’t just be mean to you all the time, because at least that way it would be easier to separate what is, and what isn’t.

“You said this wouldn’t change things- I’ve held up my end of the deal. But you.. We can’t do this if you’re going to jeopardize my career.” Simon watches you just as intently as before, eyes tracking your war path back and forth, “I mean, I know we’re competitive and petty, but I didn’t think you would start fucking blacklisting me-”

That seems to catch his attention, head perking up, “That’s not what I’m doin’, Sec-”

“Well then enlighten me, lieutenant.” You spit back, eyebrows furrowing when you see him reach for you.

He gently tugs you closer, gloved hand wrapped around your forearm- closer and closer until you can feel that unbearable heat he exudes, smell the spice of his cologne, the one he only ever seems to wear when he comes to your room. Like he wants to lay claim to you somehow-

“Don’t..” The command comes out without even a hint of conviction, his finger tilting your chin back,

“I don’t want to talk, Saint. Please, not right now.”

It must be comical, how wide your eyes grow at the sound of your callsign in his gruff voice, the way he breathes the small plea- something you’ve never once heard him say. You just barely catch the way his eyes crinkle at the very corners in your stupor. The audacious bastard is smiling like he knows you would melt for it.

He knows you so well.

But the smile isn’t mean, it isn’t to spite you like he does sometimes- no, this feels warmer, like you could reach out and wrap yourself in it.

“Simon.. This isn’t good for us.”

“For us?”, he leans down then, the arm around your waist pulling you close enough to feel his covered lips on your neck, “Or for you?”

Your exhale feels labored and too heavy in your lungs, cursing yourself over and over for how effortless it is for him to unravel you. How just the feeling of his big hands splayed out over your ribs, slowly traveling up and down your body, makes your legs weak- and the heat of his breath condensating on your skin has the familiar pressure steadily growing low in your belly- begging for more.

When he pulls the mask off this time, you can’t help but notice the gentility in his expression. A certain relaxed nature about it that seems so out of place for him. Most of the time, when you would find each other at the end of the day, he would be frustrated or annoyed, or he would be carrying that familiar brand of apathy written all over his face.

Not that it never cracked, you’ve gotten the privilege of seeing him show softness, even if it’s in his own way. A playful wink here and there, a genuine smirk that would reach his eyes for a fleeting moment, or when you got to see the deep dimples on either cheek- the ones that give his features an almost boyishly handsome quality.

But right now, you swear he looks.. content.

And when he kisses you, it’s languid and sweet- the softer skin of his lips contrasting to the way his five o’ clock shadow scratches your chin and mouth. He kisses you like you have all the time in the world, like there’s no place he would rather be than right here, tangling his fingers in your hair- tasting your tongue as it dances around his.

It confuses you, because this is not how it’s supposed to go. There’s rarely ever time for such thoroughness, not that Simon wasn’t incredibly adept when it comes to giving pleasure- it just tended to be like a flashfire, like throwing a lit match into gasoline, volatile and explosive. That’s what you agreed on though, agreed to use each other- use your attraction merely as a means to an end. Blowing off steam. There’s no need to be soft and languid when you could just take the emotion out of it all together.

And that’s just how you’ve always assumed it is for him. You’ve never minded, not really- you were a smart woman, reasonable and logical, but.. You were still only human. Of course you craved that connection, the physical touch; you would never admit that you wanted him to hold you until you fell asleep afterwards, that you wanted to run your fingers through his hair, or memorize every delicious curve and vein and scar on his body-

No, that would mean you thought of him beyond sex, and that was very strictly forbidden.

He walks you backward, lips and hands never straying far as you take turns undressing the other- his shirt is on the ground first, giving you not nearly long enough to revel in the sight before yours is being lazily pulled over your head.

The backs of your knees hit the bed frame, which feels like a reprieve at this point with how utterly weak you feel in his arms; so, you let yourself sink into the foamy cushion, casting your eyes upward for only a second as you quickly work at his belt.

You’re forced to stop though, leaning back when he moves, crowding your space by bending over you on the bed and propping himself up with a massive arm on either side, his face close enough to graze his nose over yours, “You in a rush tonight, baby?”

Petulantly, you lift your chin- capturing his bottom lip between your teeth, you give it just enough of a bite to hear him hiss before laving the tender spot with your tongue. But before you can kiss him again, before you can pull him down on top of you, or your hands can make their way back to his buckle- he easily lifts you up, placing you further back on the bed.

“Simon, what are you doing?”

The question comes out more harsh than you were going for, but he’s not making any fucking sense, and you feel like a top wound too tight, overly conscious of the slick staining your underwear, and the ache in your core that only he can fix-

And maybe for a second, you see a flash of anger in his eyes, standing at his full height while you stare up at him,

“What does it look like we’re doin’, Sec?”

You huff out a incredulous laugh, scooting off the mattress- eyes searching the floor for your shirt, hell, anything to cover up with,

“Oh. Back to Sec, huh?”

Scrubbing a palm over his face, he watches you purposely not look his way, “Fuckin’ hell, do you always have to have it out with me? Can never just let it be-”

“Let it be?”, shirt be damned, you turn back to face him- “Let what be, exactly, Ghost? This is how it’s been for over a year. I mean, fuck, longer than that! You hated me, I hated you- it was perfect. We could fuck each other, and it meant nothing-”

“Past tense.”

He cuts you off, and you feel like you might actually throw something until your brain finally registers what he said,

“What?”

“You’re usin’ the past tense.. ‘Hated’, ’meant’.”

You shake you head, hands coming up before plopping limp at your side, “What the fuck are you on about?”

When he takes a step forward, you take one back, “Words are important, love..” – another step closer, another step away, “‘Hated’ implies that you did, but you don’t anymore.”

“What is this? A language arts lesson?” You try to bring back that anger, that bitterness, but the way he’s looking at you, the way his voice is lower, brassy and rich- it’s hard to feel anything other than him.

A wall halts you, your bare skin protesting against the cold, smooth surface. You wish it would swallow you whole. But, he gets closer, and you’re still there, once again looking up at him,

“I don’t hate you, Saint. I’ve never hated you..” The back of his finger carves a slow path over your cheek, his head tilting to the side, “You were right though, about this not bein’ good.. But not for us- for you.”

“Ghost- I..”

“I’m not good for you. Never have been- I came into this selfishly, thinkin’ that it would be easy, that you would be like all the rest, get tired of me when I wasn’t able to give.. enough. And then it would be over.”

You’re held rapt by his admission, hanging on to every syllable- because you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say so much at once. And certainly never imagined it would have to do with the way he feels about you, bad or otherwise.

“Why did you stay?”

It’s because you’re so lost in the novelty of him in this moment, that it takes an awkwardly long few seconds to realize that you need to actually answer the question-

“I stayed..” — you blink, fighting to make your racing thoughts make sense, “Because you never tried to trick me- or be anything other than what you are, Simon. It was- is, enough. You’re enough.”

His eyelids flutter, a deep, soothing sigh blowing through his nose as he turns away- almost composing himself, in a way, if you know him as well as you think you do,

“You never wanted anythin’ more?”

“No.” You say, and it’s not a lie, you could leave it there- but there’s just something in his eyes that’s begging for more- “Not at first.”

“But now?”

“What do you want me to say, Simon? Of course, I want more. It’s kind of hard not to when you’ve had what we have, had sex with a person, and only that person, for over a year-”

His eyes widen, pupils consuming the honeyed amber that surrounds them right before his lips catch yours in that bruising sort of kiss you know so, so well. It’s full of every single thing he can’t put words to. And for a moment, he nearly gets lost in it, that finely threaded tether on his control slipping further and further- control he’s never been good at reining in when it comes to you.

***

I whisper your name, letting the taste of it linger over my tongue as I try to pull away, try to prolong every second I can get- quietly pleading with you to just slow down. Because I know what comes after-

But the way you chase after my lips, your nails clawing at me, my skin burning under your touch- fucking hell.

You shouldn’t be here, should’ve never agreed to this, with me. You’re too good for someone so broken. You have so much life to live, and I hate that you’ve wasted even a moment of it caring for me- wanting me.

Hm.. Saint. How fucking perfect- because only a saint could bring a devil to his knees.

And that you did. With every lingering touch, and every sweet smile you gave me, everytime you moaned my name, I let you in deeper and deeper. Until I started to hate when you left, hated that I only felt whole when I had you in my arms-

No, I’m no good for you.

Because if I had it my way, I would want to hold you hostage here, right where you belong. Where the world couldn’t touch you, couldn’t hurt you.

I would want you to crawl inside my veins, live in my bones- like you don’t already own the terrible void that’s been in my chest for longer than I can remember.

Might as well take it all. It’s as good as yours anyway.

I love you. I can’t say it- that wouldn’t be fair to you. My love is tainted and ruined, a blasphemous and dangerous thing- it’s only ever killed those I’ve given it to. So, I won’t curse you with those words.

But I hope you can feel it.

“Simon.. Please-” You frame my face in your hands, tugging at my hair, “I want you.”

***

Hearing his name, or maybe it’s the traitorous desperation in your voice, urges him to act. A small squeak escapes when he lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms looped over his neck,

“I’m yours.”

It stuns you, how fluid and thoughtless he says it, like it’s nothing, like he’s said it a hundred times before. Like he didn’t just tell you exactly what you had mindlessly dreamed of hearing from him for months now.

He doesn’t pause though, kissing you again, swallowing your thoughts in his lips- and time slows as your back sinks into the covers. The comfort of his weight settling over you, his hips nestled between your thighs. It’s all so much, too much and not enough at the same time; but you think you could stay here forever, pinned under him, be the object of his desire for as long as he wanted, have him tell you that he’s yours over and over-

The bed dips as he breaks away, working your button and zipper open with practiced movements-

“Lift up, baby.”

You lift your hips, helping him gently tug your cargo pants down before standing and stripping out of his own. And like so many times before, you can’t help but to very disrespectfully let your eyes rake over his bulky frame- your bottom lip trapped between your teeth,

“Jesus, Simon.. That’s not fair.”

“Not fair for who?” He coos, crawling over you again, pressing chaste kisses over your torso as he goes.

A sharp gasp echoes when he latches onto your nipple, his teeth grazing across the sensitive bud, the thrill of blissful pain simmering through you-

“It’s just not fair..” You whine, back arching as he does the same thing to your other, the wet skin cooling too quickly when you feel him chuckle.

“‘M sorry, lovie.”

He teases you for what feels like an eternity, having learned your body better than you know it yourself anymore- only Simon knows how to turn you into putty in his hands, make you soft and pliable, keening and whimpering, a teary eyed mess. And usually he never takes it so far, never ruins you so thoroughly before you’ve even had his cock- but tonight he does.

Tonight, he seems determined to map out every inch of you, even allowing you to do the same in small doses. He lets your fingertips trace over his scars, lets your lips kiss all the broken parts of him-

“Will you tell me about them one day?” You ask, the question muffled against his neck.

It’s an innocent inquiry, honest and genuine, but you don’t miss how he tenses above you before pulling away just enough to see your face. Maybe if you knew him better, had more time with him like this, you would be able to discern the anguish in his eyes- but you don’t see it. Even though you’ll remember it.. this particular moment, it will stick with you far beyond just tonight.

“One day.”

You aren’t sure why you don’t believe him.

All too quickly the thought is lost when you feel him readjust, leaning up on his knees- and your mouth waters at the view, how his chest heaves, already covered in a satiny sheen of sweat; how he strokes his length before looking down to watch how he sinks into you, how you take him so fucking perfectly-

Just like in everything else tonight, he moves at an achingly languid pace- thrusting forward inch by inch, and pulling out just as slow- reveling in the way your slick glistens, all for him.

“Simon..”, you reach for him, needing him close, needing more, “Mh.. Simon- please..”

He comes to you, lets you pull his face down to yours, “Please what, baby?”

When he pushes into you again, it takes your breath away, your muscles clenching as he drives right up against the fleshy wall of your cervix, “You want more?”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut until you feel him cradle your face, “Mm-mm, I want you to look at me, Saint.. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?”

Without another thought, you open them, your brows knitting together as you search his face. You expect to see something close to his usual bravado, maybe even a devious smirk, or a wolfish gleam; but it’s none of those things. His expression is one of longing and adoration- his demand wasn’t being made out of a desire to control you, he simply wants to see you.

He wants to be seen.

“Ok, Simon..”, you place your hand over his, turning into his palm to plant a kiss to the rough skin there, “On you.”

His next thrust is harder, causing your legs to tighten around him- and even when he finally gives in, driving into you faster and deeper, each time hitting that spot that has you clenching and whimpering, he still holds your face, still keeps his eyes steady on you- entranced at the way you fight to keep your own open for him.

“That’s it.. fuck-” He grunts, crushing his lips to yours, “My good girl.”

The praises he whispers next are far sweeter than anything he’s ever said before, punctuated and interrupted by his own breathless moans. His words and each building noise he gives only drives you toward your end- dragging him right along with it until you’re both falling over the edge.

And it’s your name he says as he spills deep inside you, your name said again like an answered prayer when you hug him closer- both of you holding onto the other like if you let go for even a second, you might drift away.

“I’ve got you..” You say it without really knowing why, but knowing that it feels right. Knowing that he has you, too. At least in this moment- and that’s enough. He’s enough.

How long you stay that way, you can’t be sure- long enough for your bodies to grow limp and the sweat on your skin to dry before he finally peels himself away. And you could cry from the abrupt absence of his warmth, his weight, him.

Thankfully, he’s back just as quick, a warm cloth in hand and a tender touch to clean you up- which isn’t new, Simon’s always taken the time for aftercare, but it’s never felt so.. intimate. He goes about it just as tenderly and thoroughly as he had causing the mess in the first place, his eyes never leaving your skin, lips pressing sweet kisses nearly every place he wipes.

It pulls at you, the pesky prickling of tears stinging your eyes again. Because you know there must be a reason for his stark change tonight- but, you just can’t bring yourself to break the moment by asking why.

He stays with you. It’s not an entirely spoken agreement, he doesn’t ask and you don’t suggest, but when he slips back into the covers with you, you certainly don’t complain. You let him pull you under his arm, smiling into his chest when he kisses the top of your head,

“Good night, Simon.”

You hear him take a deep breath, the muscles under your cheek relaxing as he exhales just as deep and long, “G’ night, Saint.”

***

Watery rays of sunlight wake you, the glow behind your eyelids rousing your mind enough to realize the spot beside you is vacant, the sheets long since cooled. It doesn’t bother you, not really, it’s just Simon. The only clues he left to prove last night wasn’t just some fucked up dream being his scent, still lingering so heavily on his pillow, and the blissful ache between your legs.

And you wish you could stay here, covered in the blankets, wrapped in his smell, reliving the vivid memories as they flash through your head- his words replaying on a loop in your ears.

I’m yours.

I’m yours.

I’m yours.

But your alarm has other plans, your chosen vocation entirely undeterred by your relationships woes and break-throughs. Just another day, right? You would see him at the morning debrief, and again for range training- nothing changes externally. But everything had changed on the inside, for you anyway.

Is it wrong to hope it had for him, too?

You go about your morning routine, joyfully unaware of the decisions made without your knowledge, of the actions taken and the consequences that would follow- you hum along to your music, the faintest smile tugging at your lips.

What a lovesick fucking fool you are.

It’s only when you’re reaching for your phone and keys from the desk that you see the piece of paper, carefully ripped from your own notepad and the silver metallic glint sticking out just beyond the corner.

You don’t recall the next seconds, or minutes- not really even the next hour. It all feels like that soft whooshing of TV static, endless and without form. And you find yourself begging for it to have been a dream, silently hoping that none of it really happened, that he hadn’t knocked on your door, that you hadn’t let him in.

That you hadn’t given him everything, and you hadn’t let him convince you he was yours.

Still stuck in that awful whooshing, you grip the piece of metal so hard you think the impression of his name might just brand itself into your palm, your boots stomping against the tile as you pass by all those familiar doors-

“What is this?”

Price looks up at you, and that dreadful nausea settles in the pit of your stomach when you see the resignation in his eyes.

“Saint-”

“When did they leave?”

“0400.”

They could already be there- Price wouldn’t let him do this.. Right?

“Recall them then, there’s still time. We’ll-”

He gives a long sigh, lips set into a thin line, “This might be our only shot, Saint. It’s not perfect, but there’s still a chance.”

***

There was never a chance.

Two weeks later, you stood on the tarmac- hair whipping violently in the wind as you watch the plane land. You stay there ,silently partaking in your own morbid, self-loathing vigil, still somehow hoping it isn’t true.

But there he is.

Simon Riley. His pine coffin draped with the flag he had fought for.

You watch Soap do his best, limping alongside it, his arms shaking and his eyes stained with tears. He gives you a hug afterward, whispering that he tried, he tried to bring everyone home.

You don’t blame him. Not for a second. You knew when you found Simon’s dog tag on your desk that he never intended on coming back. You knew when you read his neatly written note that you would never see him again. You would never hear his voice or feel his lips against yours. You would never get the chance to tell him that you were his, and that you always had been.

You didn’t know then, that a part of you always would be, didn’t know that he had left more behind than either of you could have imagined.

***

When the doorbell rings, you tear your eyes away from the now framed note. Flitting through the cozy flat with a smile growing on your face,

“Saint!” Gaz sweeps you into a bruising hug, your feet coming off the floor and a giggle erupting from your chest.

“I’m glad you all could make it.” You say a bit breathlessly once you're back on solid ground.

Price gives you a hug next, his beard tickling your cheek, “Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.”

“Aye, are ye kiddin’?” Johnny’s kiss lands just at the corner of your lips, his hold tighter, more familiar than the rest- “Miss our big lad’s first birthday? Never, bonnie.”

On cue, you turn at the sound of excited babbling to see the birthday boy in question, looking between the four of you. His copper brown eyes wide with curiosity, and a mess of honey blonde curls on his head.

I was so lucky to have had you..

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.

Your Simon.

+++

well, I’m ruined. and I hope you enjoyed it. I’m really not good at leaving angst too angsty, I’m too much of a hoe for silver linings and happy endings and all that fluffy sh*t.

forever just a lover girl at heart 🥲

[canonicallyobserving911]

“Islands in the stream, that is what we are!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

New Buddie Fanfic Series - Love, Life and Adventures!

Part 2 is now available on AO3: “Islands in the stream, that is what we are!” - Buck and Eddie go on a date and spend a romantic Saturday in Santa Catalina Island, CA.

“Islands in the stream, that is what we are!”

6.9K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

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Here's a snippet from one of Buck and Eddie's conversations.

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Buck asks, “Babe, you know this song, too?”

“Yes and I love it. Dolly and Kenny were a great duo back in the day.”

They return to singing the first verse with Dolly and Kenny since she’s dueting with him. “You do something to me that I can't explain. Hold me closer and I feel no pain. Every beat of my heart, we got somethin' goin' on.”

After they finish and Kenny sings the next verse, Buck chuckles and when Eddie looks at him, he inquisitively says, “I just realized you said back in the day. Neither of us were even born when uh… this song was released back in 1983.”

“That’s true but it’s still a good song so… come on my love and sing the chorus with me.”

Buck nods and they begin to serenade each other. “Islands in the stream, that is what we are. No one in-between, how can we be wrong? Sail away with me to another world and we rely on each other, ah-ah. From one lover to another, ah-ah.”

A brief instrumental plays and when Buck glances at him for the sixth or seventh time, he winks at him. Buck blushes and bashfully smiles the same way he always does then he looks back at the interstate.

When Dolly starts singing verse three, Buck sings along with her. “I can't live without you if the love was gone. Everything is nothin' if you've got no one and you did walk in tonight. Slowly losing sight of the real thing.”

Since the next verse is a duet between Dolly and Kenny, Buck and Eddie sing together right along with them. “But that won't happen to us, and we got no doubt. Too deep in love and we got no way out and the message is clear, this could be the year for the real thing.”

That words in the last lyric sink in and they stop singing once the pre-chorus begins and they just listen to Dolly. “No more will you cry. Baby, I will hurt you never. We start and end as one, in love forever. We can ride it together, ah-ah. Makin' love with each other, ah-ah.”

Neither of them were planning to get emotional this early on a Saturday morning but the lyrics hit them both in the chest and the wind is knocked out of them.

Eddie gently squeezes Buck’s hand and when he looks at him, he admits, “I’ll never hurt you.”

“It’s the same for me and it’s like the song says, “No more will you cry and we start and end as one, in love forever.”

What's going to happen after they finish serenading each other? 👀

___________

Love, Life and Adventures!

This is a new FANON series I’ve created and titled “Love, Life and Adventures” and it’s adapted from the title of the photo album Thomas was making for Mitchell in 2x8 “Buck Actually.” In this series, Buck and Eddie are in a secret relationship and they will be going on dates and having a fabulous time as they get to know each other romantically. They’ve always been emotionally intimate but they’ll be dating and wooing the other one with surprises and romantic gestures.

I’m not sure how many fics will included but I do know I want to write about them having fun and enjoying their time together because they deserve it.

"Tell me a secret!" - 3.1K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie are in a secret relationship and they’ve only told one person they’re together. They’re planning to reveal it to their biological and found families soon but they won’t do it until they’ve had the chance to love, live life and share some adventures while they’re in the honeymoon phase.

“Islands in the stream, that is what we are!” - 6.9K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie go on a date and spend a romantic Saturday in Santa Catalina Island, CA.

Now Available on AO3