#i just like the tender moments where you see that their just so loving and compassionate

[mirohlayo]

hi lyna, I hope you're having a great day! for your event, can I request a coconut 🥥 “no one’s ever going to hurt you again. i promise you that on everything i believe in.” with charles? please and thank you!! 🩷

Here is it !! Hope you'll like it and hope you're having a great day too :))

PROMISE

Sometimes you felt weak. Bad and sad. The world seemed to be falling apart as you tried to hold on. To hold on to that faint glimmer of hope, because in the end it was worth it.

The sky was covered in stars as you felt the coolness of the night fall on your frail skin. The tears that were slowly streaming down your face have finally dried, but your eyes are still wet from the pain of those salty drops.

The balcony door opened, Charles appearing in its frame. You loved spending a little time alone, with yourself, on the balcony at night, enjoying the beauty of the sky. But this little moment of yours was starting to seem a little too long and suspicious for Charles, who was worried about you.

He approaches you, placing his hands gently on your shoulders, his gaze concerned. He stays there for a moment, awkwardly caressing your shoulders. He didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want to rush you. He can feel your body trembling slightly under his touch, and it breaks his heart, which was suffocating at the thought of you being sad.

He then walks around you, kneeling in front of you. It was there where he could see your wet eyes shining in the night, where he could become aware of your fears. You don't like to appear so weak in front of him, but at that moment you didn't care. He has the right to see you in this light, to witness your feelings.

The palm of his hand comes to rest delicately on your cheek, caressing your pale skin with his thumb. Despite your tears and your red eyes, the faint glow of the moon reflects your face with exquisite beauty, making you indefinitely beautiful and angelic. And Charles could stay for hours admiring you like that.

Your eyes are always fixed on the sky, far in front of you. You admire the constellations, because you always strangely found comfort in them. Charles follows your rhythm, follows the pace at which your thoughts race. And then, his heart wanted to comfort you.

“Tell me everything, angel. Tell me what’s on your heart, I’m here to listen to you. I promise.” His voice was only a whisper, a breath or even a sigh, so pleasantly soft. A faint smile appears on your face, noticeable enough for Charles to savor every second of it.

A silence settles, revealing the hesitation in your words. His hands then slide to your knees, and his touch spreads a comforting warmth all over your body. "I don't really know. Some people make me feel bad. That's all...". More tears threaten to fall, so you try to force them back as best you can.

You lower your head, anchoring your gaze on your hands which are nervously playing with each other. Charles' gaze softens, realizing that the silence that follows reflects your inability to say more about what you feel. He wraps your hands in his, placing a soft kiss on your fingers.

Each of his gestures are precise but delicate, extremely tender. His touch spreads a wave of love throughout your body, chasing away a little the painful feelings you currently feel. “No one’s ever going to hurt you again. I promise you that on everything I believe in.”

He could only let these few words escape in a sigh. He didn't need to say more, not yet. These words are the promise of eternal love, and that He will watch over you no matter the circumstances. Yet he really means it. He will never let anything or anyone hurt you, not as long as he is here with you.

He promised you, and he will never let that promise break.

“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?” You can just nod, before he gently places you on your bed. He pulls the white covers over you, then slides over to hold you in his arms. As sleep comes to you, he leaves long lazy kisses on your hair, enjoying the calm and serenity you feel when you are asleep.

Because he knows that when you sleep, all your sorrows and pains fade away to give way to wonderful, happy dreams. After all, that's what he hopes and wants most in the world : to see you happy.

[little-star-library]

I absolutely love hearing Astarion’s laugh, whether it’s from a cheesy joke or when he cracks himself up with his twisted sense of humor. And I don’t think we see him genuinely smile with joy that often other than the times he’s being flirtatious or in his menacing aura when he’s slaughtering his enemies.

But just imagine as the two of you grew closer, it would be so easy to get him laughing. It would start out with small chuckles and the briefest hint of a smile, maybe when some of your fellow traveling companions would get in a stupid argument over the pettiest of things or when you would accidentally trip over your own feet and land flat on your face in the dirt. But as time passes, you would make it your sole purpose just to hear him laugh and it would eventually grow into a sort of a competition between the two of you to crack each other up because he would slowly come to realize how much he loves to see you smile and laugh even in the midst of all the chaos.

At first, he would hate the fact that he was growing soft and vulnerable around you and he felt like he had no control over his boundaries and would think that you were secretly plotting some sort of scheme to get him to trust you further or had him under some sort of spell. But then he started to see that you held no malicious intentions towards him and you just had an aura about you that was full of joy and happiness and was simply contagious for anyone that was around you.

And he would look so cute when he’d be smiling and seeing his crimson eyes light up, with his fangs poking out over his bottom lip and the occasional twitch of his pointy ears whenever you would share a funny story or a witty quip at his overdramatized theatrics. He would playfully pout while you would tease him and mimic his voice and actions, but it was just too hilarious for him not to smile at how comical you looked while doing so.

And if you were in a romantic relationship with him, he would enjoy having those soft moments with you where you could get him to giggle at your affections towards him, from peppering kisses all over his face to tickling and poking each other throughout the day. One of his favorite moments was when the two of you got into a water fight when you were bathing away the sweat and grime from a long day, splashing each other in a fit of laughter and genuinely enjoying your company. And he is so fond of having tender and lighthearted sex with you and making each other laugh at how ridiculous you both are in the heat of the moment while you knock foreheads together and sharing sweet kisses.

You love being able to see him in this new light where he can let his walls go down and you take pride in seeing him act more goofy than usual and he adores you for showing him a different side of intimacy that is pure and virtuous in its simplicity.

(I could go on and on about how to make this man smile and laugh because he deserves to have some happiness in his life and that’s all I want for him, he’s just so sweet.)

[ceruark]

i love you, it’s ruining my life

synopsis: the love of your life is engaged, and you foolishly show up to the celebration. notes: gn! reader x sunday. arranged marriage (not to you, sorry). angst. cw: light smut words: 1,273 inspiration: fortnight by taylor swift got me in a chokehold… a/n: oh to have sunday longing for you…

You shouldn't be here.

There's a number of things that sentence could mean. You shouldn't be here, attending the engagement party thrown for the head of the Oak Family. Here, in Golden Hour's finest ballroom, dressed in the outfit he loves to take off of you. Here, hidden away in one of the private rooms. Here, in Sunday's arms, fingers tangled in his hair while he steals kisses from your lips, drinking you in like he's just spent an eternity in the desert. Devouring you, because he knows it’s the last time he can.

They've wedded him off to an established actor from the Iris Family. Their face isn't plastered on billboards as much as Robin's is, but you've certainly noticed their increased presence in the media in the past few years. You've only met them once, at the entrance of the ballroom, hanging off of Sunday's arm and thanking you for coming. They seem nice enough.

The image of their smiling face flashes in your mind, and you shove at Sunday's chest weakly, more of a test to see how strong his will is than an actual signal for him to stop. In response, he grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer. His lips trail kisses down your cheek and jaw and settle at your neck. A slight gasp leaves you as he tugs your collar lower and sucks at the exposed skin. You grip at his hair and pull, unsure if you’re still testing his resolve or trying to find your own.

The Family had started their search for Sunday's partner two years ago. As was customary for the heads of families, potential suitors were carefully screened and selected based on the image the specific family head had to keep up. All of their selections for him had been the same: distinguished, elegant, and influential in one way or another. Any of them would have been perfect as his other half in the eyes of the public.

Only one of them resembles you in some way, and they're out in the ballroom, likely wondering where their fiance has disappeared to.

Sunday tugs at your top and looks up at you in silent question. You nod at him, and your resolve slips through your fingers in the same moment the piece of clothing slips through his. He moves his hands up to grasp your waist, and presses a kiss to your stomach before moving his face up to your chest. You move a hand away from his hair and use it to muffle a gasp when he bites down on the area, sucking the skin into his mouth. He presses a tender kiss to it after.

The Family had never considered you, or even looked your way. How could they? You were a Bloodhound, and not a noteworthy one at that. You were rough around the edges, too used to defending yourself against drunk patrons with a temper. Having grown up around hot-headed and boisterous individuals, you let your true self shine through unapologetically— the very thing that had drawn Sunday to you.

Lively, brutish, undignified. You're a fool for having ever believed you'd be his one and only.

He shifts his head slightly, and you jolt when you feel his tongue trail over your nipple. He lifts one of his ungloved hands up to the other side of your chest. You bite down on the back of your hand to muffle a moan when he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, still sucking at the other one.

Sunday hadn't told you he'd gotten engaged; you had to find out through the news six months later like everyone else had. He'd taken you on twenty-six dates during your period of blissful ignorance. At the time, you idly wondered why the places he'd taken you to were so secluded and hidden from the public eye— more than usual, at least.

You were making small talk with Siobhan at Dreamjolt Holstery when you got the notification of the engagement on your phone. The betrayal stung; you knew it was coming, but you felt blindsided by the fact that he hadn't told you himself, as soon as he found out.

You got blackout drunk that night, and you hadn't spoken to Sunday since then, not until tonight. You didn't open any of his texts, threw the handwritten letters he sent you in a drawer, and avoided the places he and his sister frequented like the plague.

And when you stood at the ballroom entrance, greeting the happy couple, he spoke your name in that reverent tone he reserved for Xipe.

And when he caught you alone in a hallway and pulled you into one of the private rooms, you didn't stop him. You couldn't. You didn't want to.

You can't stop him, his devout love, your name rolling off his tongue in fervent prayer. You don't want to.

You shouldn't be here.

Shame crawls down your spine, and you shove at his chest, hard this time. He looks up at you, face twisted in confusion and desperation.

"Did I hurt you, angel?" He whispers, his lips and breath tickling your skin.

"You're going to hurt me." Your voice is hoarse, barely audible. "You're going to hurt them. They're kind. They don't deserve this."

He stares at you, and you turn away to study the intricate wallpaper, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. You move your hands down to gather your top and put it back into place.

Sunday catches you by the wrists, pulling himself up to meet your line of vision. He presses his lips against yours. It's everything and nothing all at once: tender and starved, lingering and fleeting. He barely parts, and you can feel the movement of his lips against yours when speaks.

"Please," he begs. "If I can't have you in the future, at least let me have you tonight."

Your heart aches. Tears prick at your eyes. "We shouldn’t be doing this."

"Please." He moves away, raising the back of your hand to his lips. "I need you."

"Sunday." Your voice catches on the last syllable of his name, and the first few tears slip out before you can stop them. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

A lifetime and silence and stillness passes between you before he finally pulls away. His fingertips graze your skin as he helps you put your top back on. Your fingernails scratch at his scalp as you comb through the tangles in his hair.

He reaches for his gloves, but pauses, hands hovering in the air for a moment. He ends up settling them on your cheeks, pulling you in for one more kiss. This one is soft and uncertain, just like the first was.

"I'm sorry."

You grit your teeth and blink against the tears. "It's not your fault." You pause, then add, "I'm happy for you."

The pain that flashes in his eyes has you regretting the words. He sighs and releases you, finally moving out of your way. You push yourself off the wall, keeping your eyes forward as you head for the door. Your hand lands on the knob, and you stop when you hear him call for you again.

He speaks so softly you almost miss it. "I love you."

It's the first time he's ever said it.

A choked sob escapes your throat, and you throw the door open, rushing out without glancing back.

In the vacant hallways, the joyous sounds of laughter and jazz reverberate off the walls. Tears roll down your face.

You shouldn't be here.

[amomentsescape]

Hey hey! You are so amazing and I love your work so much 💜💜💜

I need a bit of angst in my life so can I please request Thomas Hewitt x reader where they got into a heated argument and Thomas signs something he regrets. With tears in their eyes, reader storms out of the house and does not return for hours. How would he react? What would he be thinking when he sees the tears running down the cheeks of his partner? What would he think when they don’t come back after hours had passed?

What Should Have Been Said

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Summary: After becoming worried about Reader's safety, Thomas says some things he doesn't mean.

Warnings: Angst, cussing

Word Count: 1,436

A/N: Thank you so much! Writing this was definitely pretty sad on my part. I hope you enjoy the angst!

It was just a big misunderstanding. But that's how these arguments normally started, right?

As someone who wasn't able to verbally communicate his thoughts and feelings well, things were inevitably going to become misconstrued at some point. But with the strong Texas heat burning through his skin like fire, everything seemed to be fueling his present frustrations.

He had told you earlier to stay inside while he tended to the outside chores. The sun was going to be unbearable that day, and with all the sharp tools lying around, he didn't want to risk you getting hurt.

So you listened to him for a while, letting him work alone. But after several hours of not seeing him, you became worried.

He hadn't even stopped in for a quick drink of water or an update to let you know he was okay.

You finally decided that sitting around and letting these worries stew wasn't benefitting anyone. So carefully, you got up, grabbed a glass of ice water, and slipped on some shoes, heading out into the blazing sun.

A quick trip around the house told you that he wasn't there which meant that he could only be in one other place: the shed.

You snuck in carefully and were immediately hit with the sound of metal banging against wood.

You were happy to see that he wasn't spending all of his time in the sun, but the shed almost felt worse than the outdoors did. There wasn't enough ventilation in here, making the temperature feel much hotter than you deemed safe.

You rounded the corner quickly, the glass of water in your hand already dripping from the condensation.

However, when you walked past the shelf, you didn't notice the meat hook poking out from the side.

It immediately caught your arm and cut through your skin with ease, causing you to drop the glass of water on instinct and hiss.

The shattering of glass cause Thomas to spin around quickly, a sharp butcher's knife being raised up on reflex in case he saw someone unwelcomed.

And in that moment, he would have much rather seen a lowly stranger in that shed than you hunched over with a small pool of blood beginning to form near your foot.

He immediately dropped the knife and rushed over, grabbing your arm gently but forcefully, looking at how bad the wound was.

"I'm okay, Thom-"

He quickly cut you off by picking you up, taking you straight back to the house.

The next few minutes were filled with an uncomfortable silence, him working hard at cleaning your wound and getting it wrapped up.

It wasn't like Thomas to act like this. His brows were furrowed and his touch was a bit rougher than normal.

In the past, a situation like this would have evoked a tender response from him, his whole being dedicating itself to doting on you and making sure you felt safe.

However, this time the air was filled with a feeling of uncomfortableness. His gaze hadn't even attempted to meet yours since he brought you inside from the shed.

The moment he finished patching you up, he was already heading for the door, not giving you a single ounce of acknowledgement.

This not only disappointed you, but it also ignited a slight irritation in your chest. You were just badly injured, and he didn't even seem to give a shit?

"Thomas," you said a bit more sternly than you intended.

He paused in the doorway, his head slightly tilting towards you in a way to show that he was listening.

You swallowed roughly. "You haven't said a single thing to me the past 30 minutes. What's wrong?"

He turned his head back to the floor, not giving you the reaction you were hoping for. The pain in your arm mixed with the uncomfortable feeling of sweat dripping down your body seemed to only fuel the anger that was beginning to build. Why was he ignoring you?

"Are you mad?" you tried.

The tone of your voice made it sound more accusatory than concerned, but you didn't really care in that moment. You were hurt both physically and emotionally at Thomas's nonchalance, and he deserved to know that.

He finally turned all the way to face you at this, the deep creases in his forehead revealing that something was definitely bothering him, and your questioning only seemed to provoke it more.

But with a quick response, Thomas signed, "I'm fine."

You almost scoffed at this.

"Well, that's good for you. But you haven't showed a single sign of caring towards me since I went to see you. What's going on?"

He just stood there breathing heavily.

That anger began to rise even more.

"Answer me."

He irritably began signing to you again, explaining that you shouldn't have gone outside when he explicitly told you not to.

You felt your face burn at how blunt he was being towards you. This wasn't like him; he never got this angry with you.

"I was worried," you started. You could already feel that familiar burn in your throat. "You were out there for hours, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"And I told you to stay inside," he signed.

He was deflecting, and this only seemed to piss you off more. You were there telling him how you were only wanting to look after him, and yet that seemed to make him angry at you? Why? What's so bad about looking out for your partner?

Your eyes were beginning to burn, and you could tell that this anger was beginning to evolve into anguish.

"I just wanted to take care of you!" you almost yelled.

And in an instant, Thomas was already signing back, "I don't need you."

And that's what did it.

The tears spilled over, and your were choking on your own sobs at this response.

One of the first things he ever said to you was that he needed you. Even before the love confession or the asking to be yours, he was telling you that all he would ever need in this life was you.

Seeing him say these words to you broke your heart more than any other rejection could have done.

With blurry eyes and a pained expression, you rushed out the back door, leaving Thomas standing there in confusion and utter shock.

By the time he gathered his bearings and ran after you, he was met with an empty yard, no sight of you within reach.

He crumbled to the ground at the revelation that you were gone. What had he done?

If only he could have expressed to you the truth behind his worries.

He told you to stay inside for your safety. He was angry not because of you, but because you got hurt. This was the most severe injury you had sustained while being with him, and that severity is what caused him to shut down so quickly.

Seeing all that blood and such a deep wound made him realize that anything could happen to you. He could lose you in an instant, and that revelation cause him to lock up.

He could never be angry at you, he was just terrified of losing you.

And he didn't mean what he said. God, he desperately needed you more than anything in his life. But he was willing to say just about anything to keep you safe in that moment. But his worried mind clouded over that fact that he was only pushing you away.

He couldn't get the image of your tear-stained face out of his mind. He had never seen you so broken before, and he certainly would have never wanted to be the reason you felt that way.

He continued to stay kneeled to that spot for minutes and then hours. He refused to move.

You were going to come back, you had to. He couldn't do this without you.

But once the sun began to set, and the moon shone it's light down on him, he felt nothing but despair.

What if something had happened to you? Should he have gone and searched for you despite not knowing which direction you went? Would you ever be able to find your way back to him if you changed your mind?

He fully collapsed to the ground at these worries. The dirt and dust below him turned to spots of mud as the moisture from his own tears collided with the soil.

He signed to whatever Gods had to be out there watching him, "please, come back."

[thewulf]

Through Your Eyes || Simon "Ghost" Riley

Summary: Request -I'm thinking a military TF 141 reader where she and Ghost are tiptoeing the line between friendship and something more (you write it soooo well!) and maybe one night she's just feeling lonely/homesick - she really only sees the guys anymore since they're always working - so she decides to get a lil tipsy in her room... Read Rest Here

A/N: Probably the most OOC Ghost we'll see but idc he's soft and I love it. Enjoy!

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader, TF 141 x Platonic Female Reader

Word Count: 9.5k + (They keep getting longer lmao)

TW: Drinking our issues away

In the quiet confines of your room on base the night stretches out like a silent, unending void. England, with its overcast skies and endless drizzle, feels worlds away from the sun-drenched horizons of your hometown in America. Here the walls are a dull grey. The only decoration a faded photograph of your family, smiling. A stark reminder of what you’ve left behind.

You sit on the edge of your narrow bed with a glass of whiskey cradled in your hands. The ice was slowly melting, mirroring the monotonous drip of time passing. The soft buzz of the base’s nighttime activities filters through your closed door. It was a constant reminder that life goes on even when parts of you have stalled.

Loneliness clings to you like a second skin. Homesickness gnaws at your insides. The jokes shared and the meals eaten together are supposed to bring comfort, but tonight they're not enough. The laughter feels distant. The smiles seem forced through your filter of sadness. You miss the ease of being understood in your own home. The comfort of familiar streets. The casual meetups with friends who knew you before you were a soldier.

Most of all you miss the simple, irreplaceable connections that once filled your days. You long for the nights out with your girlfriends, their laughter and stories echoing in your ears. A drastic difference to the tactical discussions that now dominate your evenings. The absence of your mother's voice, once a daily comfort, now feels like a missing chord in the symphony of your life. It’s not like you didn’t try and talk with her but the time difference made it nearly impossible.

The loneliness is compounded by the intimacy you crave but lack. You longed for a partner to share quiet moments with. Someone whose mere presence could turn the coldest nights warm. Here, among soldiers, your vulnerability remains hidden. Your longing for tenderness a silent scream in the night.

Lately you’ve found yourself envying Captain Price. Whenever he talks about going home to his family, a pang of jealousy tightens your chest. He returns to love, to embraces, to conversations that have nothing to do with war. His normalcy seems like a distant dream, and you crave it with every fiber of your being.

As the whiskey warms your throat it brings a slight haze to your thoughts. A part of you wonders if you made the right decision. Did you trade your past and your peace for a purpose that now feels too heavy to shoulder alone? The drink wasn’t soothing like you craved. Instead, it sharpened the edges of your solitude. It highlighted the deep yearning for something, or someone, to call home.

As the evening stretches into the deeper hours of the night your thoughts begin to swirl as much as the whiskey in your glass. Desperate for a distraction from the creeping melancholy you find yourself reaching for your phone. A dangerous idea forming amidst the softening edges of your loneliness.

The glow of your phone screen seems harsh against the dim lighting of your room. Scrolling through your contacts your thumb hovers over Ghost's name. He’s always been solid, dependable. Perhaps too much so, you think, a slight smile playing at the edges of your lips. With a reckless flicker of courage fueled by the whiskey warming your veins you tap out a somewhat flirty message. A far cry from your usual sober texts. Evening, Ghosty. Bet you can't guess what I’m up to right now…

You hit send before you can second guess yourself.

Seconds tick by, morphing into the longest minute as you stare at the screen. Your heart racing as you wait for a reply. Instead of a text though your phone starts buzzing underneath your fingertips. Ghost is calling you! Panic and excitement flutter in your chest. This isn't what you expected. You decline the call without a second though setting it face down as if it could hide your sudden nerves.

But the phone buzzes again almost immediately, Ghost’s name flashing insistently. He’s not giving up. He’d never give up if you didn’t answer now. That just wasn’t his nature. Taking a deep breath, you flip the phone back over and press answer before bringing it up to your ear. "Hey," your voice is more playful than intended, the alcohol lending you a bubbly tone.

"Everything alright?" Ghost's voice is laced with concern. His usual calm edged with tension.

"Yeah, just couldn’t sleep," you giggle not realizing how tipsy you actually were. It was a sound that feels both foreign and delightful to your ears.

"You sure? It’s not like you to text like this... this late." His probing is gentle. But you can sense him on edge trying to read the situation.

"I’m perfectly fine, Ghosty," you drawl out the nickname only he would let you use with a teasing lilt, stretching the words playfully.

"Are you drunk?" His tone a tinge worried mixed with a faint amusement.

"No!” You reply immediately but after silence on the other side of the line you continue. “Maybe just a smidge tipsy," you admit. You heard him exhale sharply on the other end—part relief, part exasperation.

There's a brief pause before his laughter filters through, easing the tension on his side of the line. "Alright then, I’m coming over. Don’t move."

"Oh no! you don’t have to! I’m just enjoying a bit of liquid courage," you protest him. Your words dancing with mock seriousness.

"I think I better check on you in person. Stay put," he commands softly. A firm undercurrent in his voice that brooks no argument.

"Okay," you acquiesce with your tone still light, teasing. As you hang up a smile tugs at your lips. Maybe what you really needed wasn’t to dull the ache of loneliness but to stir a bit of excitement. And who better than Ghost to share that with?

When you first joined Task Force 141 the transition was expected to be challenging, especially with the unit's tight-knit and often closed-off nature. However, what no one anticipated was the immediate and inexplicable closeness that formed between you and Simon Riley, your Ghosty.

From the outset, Ghost, known for his stoic demeanor and laser-focused professionalism took an uncharacteristically soft approach with you. It was as if he sensed you needed a mentor, or perhaps something within him responded to your arrival on a level he hadn't anticipated. His usual reserve melted somewhat in your presence. His guidance more patient and his words often tinged with a protective tone. This shift in him didn't go unnoticed. It raised eyebrows among the rest of TF 141, sparking whispers and speculation. Even Ghost himself seemed taken aback by his own behavior as if he was watching himself from a distance unable to reconcile this newfound softness with his hardened warrior persona.

You brought something different to the team. You brought a warmth and a kindness that radiated naturally. Your approach to handling both the missions and interpersonal relationships within the unit was refreshingly human. Where others respected Ghost for his tactical brilliance and saw him as a near-unflappable soldier. You engaged with him as a person first and foremost. You asked him questions about his day, showed interest in the small details. And sometimes you just offered a quiet presence when words were too cumbersome.

This human connection was something Ghost hadn't realized he was missing until you arrived. Your sweetness, your unguarded way of interacting not just with him but with everyone, gradually broke down the walls he had built around himself. You saw beyond the mask—both literal and metaphorical—to the complex man beneath. It was this genuine understanding and acceptance from you that deepened his affection and protectiveness. It fostered a friendship that was both surprising and profoundly meaningful.

In your interactions Ghost found a sanctuary in you. Each dialogue, each shared silence, reinforced something vital between the two of you. A sense of belonging and mutual respect that neither of you had anticipated but both secretly yearned for. Ghost's initial decision to take you under his wing, driven by an instinctive pull, blossomed into a relationship where both of you found solace, understanding, and ultimately a love that neither the harshness of your environment nor the specter of past wounds could diminish.

The wait for Ghost to come to your room feels almost interminable. Each minute ticking by slower than the last as the shadows in your room seem to deepen, mirroring your mood. Just as you start to second-guess your impulsive invitation a soft knock at the door jolts you from your somber thoughts. It's a sound too gentle for someone like Ghost whose presence is usually more commanding. But then again, he's always full of surprises.

You pad over to the door, your steps hesitant, and open it to find him there. His posture rigid, familiar balaclava in place, his eyes immediately searching yours for signs of distress. "Hey, Tex," he greets with a softness that belies the hardness of his profession. Using the nickname that feels like a balm and a sting all at once.

It was cute, the origin of the nickname only he used on you. One evening after a long day of training with TF 141 you and Ghost found yourselves alone tasked with checking and maintaining equipment. The work was meticulous and quiet offering a rare opportunity for more personal conversation. A rarity given the usual intensity of your environment.

As you both worked the conversation naturally drifted to lighter topics and you shared a humorous story about a road trip mishap you had years ago. You ended up mistakenly driving into Texas instead of your intended destination due to a mix-up with GPS directions. You recounted the events with such animated detail and humor. Making sure to mention how you ended up enjoying some of the best barbecue and meeting some incredibly friendly locals that it left a lasting impression on you.

Ghost listened intently with a rare smile playing on his lips as he worked. When you jokingly concluded that you might have been a Texan in another life because of how seamlessly you blended into the culture during your unintended visit, Ghost chuckled. It was a sound so scarce it marked the significance of the moment.

From then on he started calling you "Tex" in a teasing yet affectionate manner. It was his way of referencing that story which had not only entertained him but also revealed your ability to adapt and find joy in unexpected situations. The nickname stuck between the two of you as it became a symbol of your resilience and the easy friensdship that had developed between the two of you.

Each time Ghost called you "Tex” it was with a tone that mixed fondness and a hint of admiration reminding both of you of that shared moment of laughter and your storytelling prowess. This private joke between you became a subtle yet constant affirmation of the bond you were building. A bond based on shared stories, mutual respect, and an emerging deep, personal connection.

"Hi, Ghosty," you manage with your voice barely above a whisper. You step aside to let him in, but as you do, the use of 'Tex' makes your heart clench painfully. Your smile falters, a frown etching itself across your face as you're vividly reminded of what you're missing.

He notices the shift in your demeanor immediately. The way your eyes dart away from his gaze. "What's going on?" he asks as he steps inside making sure to close the door behind him with a quiet click. His voice is low, laced with a concern that makes your heart ache even more. "It's not like you to drink alone, without us," he adds. His tone soft but probing. This observation hits a nerve. Highlighting how out of character your actions seem tonight.

You can't meet his eyes, not yet, not when they're so filled with worry and understanding. "It’s my brother's birthday today," you confess with your voice cracking slightly. "I got a picture from my family. They're all there, celebrating... and I’m here." The words hang heavy in the air laden with a sadness that feels too big to contain.

Ghost steps back a little giving you space. "Let's sit down," he suggests gently nodding towards your bed. You move to sit on the edge, and he joins you. He maintained a respectful distance with his posture open and inviting you to continue.

You finally glance over at him and the tears that you've been holding back start to blur your vision. "I miss them, Ghost. I miss being part of those moments. It feels like I’m losing time, losing them..."

He listens in silence, but his presence was steady. "You’re not losing them, Tex. Not really. But I get it… it’s hard to miss out. You belong here with us though. It’s okay to wish you were there too."

At his words a ripple of uncertainty courses through you. "Do I really belong?" you find yourself questioning aloud. The words spilling out before you can hold them back. Your voice is tinged with an unusual vulnerability you’re so good at hiding, "Sometimes I feel like I'm a world away, like I don't quite fit anywhere anymore."

Ghost turns to look at you completely. His gaze intense even through the shadows cast by his balaclava. Noticing the sadness deepening in your eyes he softens his tone further addressing you more personally. "I know it feels that way sometimes, Y/N," he acknowledges using your first name in a rare break from nicknames signaling his serious concern. "But you've made a place for yourself here, with us. It’s not just about the missions. It’s about the moments we share, the tough days we get through together. You’re as much a part of this team as anyone is."

His reassurance carries weight, but the hollow feeling doesn’t dissipate completely. You nod, appreciating his effort to make you feel included. Yet part of you still wrestles with the feeling of displacement. It's comforting to have someone who understands, who sees the struggle and still stands by your side affirming your place even when you doubt it yourself. Tonight, Ghost isn't just a shadowy figure or a call sign. He's the anchor you didn't realize you needed.

The room grows quieter, the only sound the distant hum of the base's nocturnal life. You reach for the whiskey glass that had been forgotten during the initial turmoil of Ghost's arrival. Tilting the glass, you take a long, deliberate drink seeking the false courage it offers. The burn a temporary distraction from the ache inside.

Ghost watches you for a moment. His expression is unreadable behind the balaclava, yet his eyes—a deep well of understanding—never leave your face. “It’s okay to feel lost sometimes, Y/N. It doesn’t mean you’re alone,” he finally says with a soft but firm voice.

You nod, feeling the alcohol loosen your tongue and the tightness in your chest. "I just feel so guilty all the time, Ghost," you admit before setting the glass down with a little more force than necessary. "Everyone here has been nothing but supportive, and here I am upset because I missed a birthday party across the ocean."

He shifts slightly turning to face you more directly. There’s a pause, a breath of a moment where he seems to be choosing his words carefully. "Guilt is a heavy burden to carry, Y/N. And it’s a familiar one to me too. We've all had moments when we felt like we're not giving enough. Not present enough for those we left behind."

Seeing him open up about his own struggles is unexpectedly comforting. It's rare for Ghost to talk about his feelings and even rarer still to admit any weakness. His willingness to share that with you now tightens something in your throat.

"Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it," you whisper unsure if you actually wanted him to hear your admission.

He reaches out to you. His hand hesitating in the air before gently landing on your shoulder. It was a small, uncharacteristic gesture of comfort. "We chose this life because we believed in something greater than ourselves," he starts. His voice steady. "Doesn't make the personal sacrifices any lighter, but it does give them meaning. And Y/N, you bring your own meaning to this team. More than you know."

Tears brim in your eyes, spilling over despite your best efforts. You're not usually this open, this raw, but with him, it feels safe, necessary even. "I just miss being sure of things, you know? Being sure of where I belong, sure of who needs me..."

Ghost nods, his hand squeezing your shoulder slightly. "I get that. But here’s what I’m sure of—you're needed here, more than you might see. Not just as a soldier, but as you, Y/N. Just by being here you make things better for everyone. For me."

Your breath hiccups at his words, at the honesty and the raw edge in his voice. In this quiet, vulnerable space, you both share more than just words. You share understanding, burdens, and silently, the beginning of something deeper, something neither of you might fully grasp yet. As the conversation drifts into a comfortable silence, you realize that tonight you didn't just find a confidant in Ghost. You found a mirror for your own vulnerabilities, and perhaps, a reason to keep fighting. Not just for the missions but for these moments of unexpected connection.

Tears trickle down your cheeks, unchecked and unbidden as Ghost's words sink deep. His affirmation, his understanding, it hits a part of you that's been raw and exposed for far too long. He looks at you. His eyes softening under the rim of his balaclava and it's as if he sees right through to the heart of your pain.

"Come here, love," he murmurs. His voice a gentle command that stirs something deep within you. He opens his arms and it's an invitation you can't resist—not tonight. You move almost instinctively. Your body responding before your mind can catch up. You find yourself climbing into his lap without so much as a second thought. His arms encircle you, strong and sure, and you melt into him. His chest is a solid wall against your cheek, you breathe him in, the faint scent of gunpowder and mint somehow reassuring and exactly what you needed.

He's so much bigger and stronger than you. An immovable presence that you've only ever admired from a distance. And he's Ghost—your not-so-secret crush, the man behind the mask, whose face you've never seen but whose soul you felt like you completely understood. As his arms tighten around you, holding you close, it's more than comfort. It's a need fulfilled. The simple yet profound need to be held, to feel wanted, to have someone not just willing but wanting to hold you.

You let yourself be held by him. The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear a soothing rhythm in the chaos of your emotions. His hand strokes your back gently. A soothing contrast to the strength of his arms, and you feel safe, protected in a way that goes beyond physical safety. Ghost isn't just a teammate, or a mysterious figure shrouded in intrigue. He's the person who understands your loneliness, your longing, and meets it with his own kind of longing. A connection that perhaps he's been craving too.

The weight of everything—the base, the missions, the distance from home—seems to lift slightly making room for something new, something hopeful. As you nestle closer, letting yourself sink into the warmth and strength of his embrace. You realize that this closeness is something you've been missing. Something you've been needing without even knowing it. And maybe, just maybe, he needed it too.

Cuddled securely in Ghost's embrace you find a moment of peace amidst the swirl of emotions. Slowly, you tilt your head up to look at him with a small smile blossoming across your face. The intimacy of the moment, the rare closeness with someone you've both feared and admired from afar ignites a warmth that had been absent for too long.

"What, love?" Ghost asks after noticing your gentle smile. His voice is tender yet tinged with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

You shake your head with the smile still playing on your lips ever so reluctant to break the comfortable silence that's settled between you. But he's persistent, definitely not satisfied with your silent amusement. "Come on, what is it?" he presses. His tone gentle yet insistent, coaxing you to share the secret of your smile.

When you answer him it’s the last thing he expected. "You have blonde eyelashes," you murmur, almost to yourself. The observation slipping out before you can think better of it. "You're a blondie, Ghosty."

He shakes his head at you with a subtle chuckle barely audible, his gaze holding a flicker of amusement that surprises you. "Blondie, huh?" he remarks. The words dry but with an underlying warmth that feels rare and genuine. "Never figured that'd be the thing to get noticed," he adds, his tone maintaining that typical Ghost edge—cool, composed, yet unexpectedly tender.

The playful comment, light and teasing, helps to bridge the gap between your roles within TF 141 and who you are beneath the surface. His chuckle fills you with an inexplicable joy, lightening the emotional weight of the night.

Encouraged by this lighter moment, he shifts slightly, adjusting his hold on you, making sure you're more comfortable in his lap. "You know," he starts again in a thoughtful tone, "I find it interesting what people notice when they really look."

This new dynamic in your conversation allows both of you to explore this newfound closeness without the heavier undertones of your earlier emotions. It's a welcome reprieve, a chance to see each other in a new light. And perhaps to start building something uniquely personal and intimate from the shared vulnerabilities and now your shared laughter. Relishing the warmth of his embrace and buoyed by the lightness of the moment there’s a playful boldness that's unlike you but feels just right for now. With a mischievous tilt of your head, you look up at him once more. Your eyes were sparkling with a mix of flirtation and genuine curiosity.

"Should've paid more attention to you, huh?" you tease. Your voice soft yet audacious. "Bet you're real pretty under that mask Ghosty."

The words hang in the air, utterly bold and flirtatious, marking a departure from your usual reserve. Ghost pauses at that. The slight tension in his posture the only sign that your comment has caught him off guard. Yet there's a hint of amusement in his eyes. A spark that suggests your boldness might not be unwelcome.

His response is slow, deliberate, as if measuring the weight of your words and his next move. "Maybe one day you'll find out love," he replies, his voice low, a tease laced with a promise that sends a thrill through you.

The exchange was daring and filled with undercurrents of mutual interest. It adds a new layer to the atmosphere, thick with potential and unspoken possibilities. As you nestle even closer to him you feel the solid certainty of his arms around you. You can't help but feel that tonight might just be the beginning of something unexpected and exhilarating. A far departure from how you were feeling even just an hour prior.

As you rest your head against his chest, feeling the thrum of his quickening heartbeat, Ghost finds himself at a crossroads of vulnerability and longing. The playful flirtation, the warmth of your body against his… it's stirring emotions within him that he usually keeps locked away under layers of discipline and duty.

"A girl can dream, hmm?" Your words were light yet laden with unspoken wishes. They echo in his heart. He tightens his hold on you further. A protective gesture that also serves to reassure himself. You're trusting him in a way that no one else does, reaching out for comfort and perhaps more.

Ghost takes a deep breath, the fabric of his balaclava stretching slightly with the movement. The thought of removing the mask, of showing you the scars that mar his face, the physical reminders of battles fought and narrowly survived, suddenly feels less daunting. He adores you, more than he's willing to admit aloud. And that adoration mixed with trust makes him consider revealing his true self.

In this moment Ghost's internal conflict is palpable. He's been grappling with the idea of showing you his face for some time. A gesture that holds significant weight given the secretive and guarded nature of his life. The scars, which he typically regards as badges of survival and resilience, suddenly morph into vulnerabilities when he thinks about revealing them to you. This is not just about physical appearance. It's about letting someone into the most guarded parts of his existence.

Ghost's decision to consider this step now isn't just a spur-of-the-moment choice. It's been building up. You represent a safe haven for him. Someone who might understand and accept his past and the physical evidence of it without judgment. It's this trust and the depth of his feelings for you that push him toward vulnerability. The act of removing the balaclava would symbolize his willingness to lower his defenses and invite you into a more intimate, authentic part of his life. A significant leap for someone whose identity is so closely tied to his role as an elite operative.

In essence, the potential unveiling is more than revealing his face; it's an invitation into his deeper self, a crucial step in any meaningful relationship, intensified here by the layers of his hidden world.

"You know," he starts, his voice a delicate blend of resolve and hesitation, "sometimes, what we dream of isn't as far out of reach as we think." His statement was laden with vulnerability and causes your heart to swell with empathy and affection for this man who has faced so much yet stands so strong before you.

As Ghost's hands hover tentatively at the edge of his mask, the weight of his decision palpable in the air, your eyes meet his with a depth of understanding and gentleness. His fingers, curled around the fabric, pause as he seems to search your face for the reassurance he needs to move forward.

He continues, his voice lowering further, almost unsure by his bold actions. "If I show you, promise me something. Promise me you'll see beyond the scars." The sincerity and slight fear in his voice tug at you, compelling you to act. To reassure him in any way you can.

You reach out slowly, your hand moving to cover his where it still grips the mask. Your touch is light but firm, grounding, a physical manifestation of your support. "You don't have to do this," you whisper back. Your voice gentle but earnest. "I never want to push you if you're uncomfortable."

As you speak your other hand moves up instinctively giving his bicep a gentle squeeze. A silent message of reassurance and strength. "Whatever you’re ready to share, whenever you’re ready, that’s okay with me. I just want you to feel safe, not just with me but for yourself too."

Your words and the warm pressure of your hands convey everything you feel—your respect for his boundaries, your readiness to accept him as he is, and your desire to ensure his comfort above all. You smile softly hoping to convey a sense of peace and acceptance, wanting him to feel the depth of your care without any pressure.

Ghost looks down at your hands. Your much smaller fingers were intertwined with his, feeling the warmth and strength from your touch. The physical connection seems to bolster him, providing a tangible sense of support and acceptance. After a moment, he gives a small nod. An acknowledgment of your words and the comfort they bring. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Ghosty.” You assure him.

Before you can continue Ghost places a finger over your lips silencing your gentle flood of reassurances. His touch is light but there’s a decisiveness in his gesture that catches your attention. Looking into your eyes with a newfound intensity, he tilts his head slightly with a hint of a challenge in his gaze. "But what if I want to?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

His question hangs in the air loaded with possibilities and the promise of a deeper connection. His eyes search yours, looking for an answer, permission, understanding. “If you’re sure.” You looked into his eyes searching for any sort of doubt, but you couldn’t seem to find any.

Ghost's hand reaches up slowly, the weight of the decision evident in every measured movement. His fingers were rough and calloused from years of wielding weapons and facing harsh conditions. They tremble slightly as they hook around the edge of the balaclava. There's a moment's hesitation. A silent plea in his eyes as they lock onto yours, seeking reassurance. Your nod is gentle but firm, encouraging.

With a deep, steadying breath that lifts his chest and fills the air with anticipation, he pulls the fabric up and away from his face. The mask slides over his nose, past scars, and weathered skin, and finally clears his sharp jawline. The reveal is gradual with each inch of skin exposed adding layers to the man you've come to know. His scars map out a history of survival and silent battles.

As the balaclava comes off completely he allows it to drop from his fingers. His gaze never leaving yours. For a moment, he stands bare—not just physically but emotionally too. The vulnerability displayed in this act deepens everything between you profoundly. Ghost, the soldier fades into the background allowing the man behind the mask, marked by life but standing resilient, to shine through.

You see him clearly now. Not just as the formidable operative known as Ghost, but Simon, marked by his past but not defined by it. This shared moment of vulnerability cements a deeper connection. A space where truths are acknowledged without words and where your understanding and acceptance begin to kindle something far more profound than either of you had anticipated.

"Simon," you whisper. His name a gentle caress in the quiet of the room. The air between you thickens with vulnerability and you notice a slight tension in his posture. The uncertainty in his eyes. It's clear he's nervous, unaccustomed to such openness, to being seen so completely.

"May I?" you ask softly requesting permission not just to touch him but to bridge the final gap between your mutual vulnerabilities. At his hesitant nod you move closer. In a bold move you straddle his lap to minimize the distance. Your hands rise to his face, gentle and reassuring. As your fingers trace the texture of his scars you watch each reaction flicker across his features. Fleeting moments of surprise, of relief, of something tender blooming underneath.

As you study Simon’s unmasked face your heart surges with a deep and profound respect. The air between you feels charged with the significance of this moment as he allows himself to be seen, truly seen, perhaps for the first time in too long.

"Look at you," you whisper to him. Your voice laced with warmth and awe. You gaze at him more lovingly than even he could have anticipated. Your fingers gently trace the contours of his face. Your touch light but filled with intent, meant to comfort, and reassure him in his vulnerability. "You're so incredibly strong, Simon."

As your thumbs smooth over his cheeks, you can feel him relax slightly under your touch. His usual guardedness giving way to a tentative acceptance of your care. "And you’re beautiful. So handsome." you continue, each word deliberate and sincere. "Not despite these scars but because of them. They're not just marks. They're medals of your courage. Symbols of your endurance."

Simon's breath caught in his throat as he absorbed your words. No one had ever looked at him this way before. Seen him so completely and accepted him so fully. The barriers he had meticulously built around himself seemed to crumble under the gentle touch of your fingers and the sincere love in your voice. In this moment, stripped of his mask and the persona of Ghost, Simon felt truly seen. The fear that had knotted in his chest began to dissolve instead replaced by a warmth that spread through him, kindling a connection that went beyond the physical, touching something deep within his soul.

"Every line," you continued tracing one gently with your fingertip, "tells a story of survival, of fights bravely fought, of a life fiercely lived. They make you... uniquely you." Your voice is thick with admiration. Your eyes were locked in on his ensuring he feels the weight of your words.

Simon looks back at you, visibly moved. His eyes, usually a fortress of stoic resolve, now shimmer slightly with unshed tears. The walls he's built around himself seem to tremble under the warmth of your gaze and the sincerity in your voice. At your words, Simon's eyes hold yours. A mixture of awe and something that looks a lot like relief. You lean in with your forehead resting against his, sharing a breath, sharing a moment of profound connection.

Simon finds himself at the mercy of a cascade of emotions with feelings he's tightly regulated and kept at bay through years of training and harsh realities. As he looks into your eyes—eyes filled with genuine care and admiration—he experiences a vulnerability that is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Inside, Simon is grappling with a mix of disbelief and wonder. The walls he's constructed around his heart, built to protect, and isolate, are wavering under the gentle but persistent tide of your compassion. Each word you speak, each tender touch, challenges his long-held beliefs about himself and his worth. The fortress of stoic resolve that has always been his shield is now nearly crumbled by the warmth of your gaze. In the understanding in your voice.

Can she truly see something in me that I've failed to recognize? he wonders silently baffled by the idea that his scars and battles, which he has always viewed as disfigurements and burdens, could be seen as marks of beauty and strength. Your touch of tracing his face with such intimate loving care doesn't just map the physical contours of his scars but also traces the deeper emotional wounds he's carried silently for so long.

As your forehead rests against his, sharing this profound moment of connection, Simon feels a shift within himself. A melting of ice that he didn't realize had encased his heart. The feeling of being understood, truly and deeply, without the need for masks or defenses is profoundly disarming. It stirs something in him that feels dangerously close to hope, to love.

In the quiet of this shared moment Simon begins to accept the possibility that he may not only be capable of loving but that he is already deep in the throes of it especially after witnessing the care and devotion with which you regard him. It's a realization that brings both fear and a surprising relief. The kind of relief that comes from finally settling down a heavy burden he hadn't fully acknowledged carrying.

Amidst these revelations he feels a gratitude that tightens his throat. An overwhelming appreciation for the woman before him who sees beyond the surface, who sees him not as a collection of scars and stories, but as a whole person worthy of love and affection. This connection, this acceptance, it's something he's longed for without even realizing it. And now faced with its reality he's both humbled and profoundly moved.

"You see all this in me?" he finally managed to ask with his voice barely above a whisper. As if speaking louder might break the spell of this intimate exchange.

"It breaks my heart that you don't, Si," you respond softly. Your voice laced with both sadness and affection. It's rare for you to use that nickname, but in this moment it feels just right. Intimate and genuine.

As your fingers maintain their gentle contact on his face Simon feels a surge of emotions that almost overwhelms him. Your words were so full of sincerity and depth and pierce through the layers of self-doubt and isolation he has wrapped around himself for so long. "You should see yourself the way I see you. Not just for what you’ve been through but for who you are because of it. You’re remarkable, Simon. And yes, I see all of this and so much more." Each word resonates within him, echoing in the spaces he's kept guarded and hidden from the world.

As he absorbs the weight of your affirmation Simon's heart feels like it could burst from the sheer intensity of what he's experiencing. It's as if your words have unlocked something within him. A floodgate opening to reveal depths of emotion he had long disregarded as unreachable. The shock of realizing that he can feel so deeply that he might indeed love and be loved in return washes over him with an almost palpable force.

For years Simon has compartmentalized his emotions viewing them as potential weaknesses in the unforgiving environments he's navigated. But now being held by your gaze and touched by your understanding he finds himself reconsidering everything he thought he knew about his capacity for emotion. The realization that he does love you and that he has perhaps loved you in ways he hadn't allowed himself to fully acknowledge comes as both a shock and a beautiful revelation.

As he exhales softly, releasing the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, a mix of relief and wonder fills him. The connection you share seems to solidify into something tangible, something real and powerful. Your ability to see him—not just the soldier, not just the scars, but Simon, the man behind the mask—instills in him a newfound sense of worthiness and belonging. In the warmth of your touch and the earnestness of your words Simon finds a new perspective on himself and his place in the world. It's as if your belief in him has lent him the strength to believe in himself. To accept the possibility of a future shaped not by solitude and sacrifice but by love and mutual understanding.

This emotional turning point is not just a revelation of his feelings for you but an awakening to the idea that he can be loved for all that he is, scars and strengths alike. As he looks into your eyes filled with appreciation and a dawning recognition of his worth. Simon knows that whatever the future holds it has been irrevocably altered by the truth and beauty of this moment.

As the emotional weight of the moment hangs between you, you sense the intensity overwhelming Simon in the wake of his newfound realizations. To lighten the mood and bring a touch of levity back into the exchange you offer him a radiant, genuine smile. Your eyes sparkle with affection and a playful teasing tone colors your voice as you look into his eyes which are now more open and vulnerable than ever.

“I was right though,” you say with a quiet giggle as your smile broadened “You are real pretty under that mask.”

Simon's eyes light up at your playful remark. A spark of joy dancing in them as he absorbs the lighter mood you've introduced. His smile spreads across his face softening the lines and scars that mark his experiences. The laughter you share serves as a reminder of the normalcy and comfort that can exist even in moments filled with deep emotional revelations.

After the laughter subsides Simon's expression turns tender. His eyes still holding yours with an intensity that speaks volumes. Leaning in slightly, the proximity bridging any remaining space between you. He mirrors your intimate gesture with one of his own. His hand, previously resting cautiously at his side, now reaches up to gently cup your face. The touch is soft but deliberate. Filled with affection and a newfound confidence.

"You've always seen more than most," Simon says. His voice low and filled with emotion. "Not just the surface, but the stories and the scars beneath. For that, I’m more grateful than I can express."

He pauses, his thumb now tracing the contour of your cheek in a slow, affectionate caress. "And you," Simon continues with his voice softening further. Softer than you’ve ever heard with a gentle sincerity underscoring his words, "are truly beautiful. In ways that go beyond what's visible. Your strength, your compassion… it shines through in everything you do."

The intimacy of his touch and his words draw you even closer, knitting your connection tighter. Simon's actions reveal his comfort and trust in you. Showcasing his willingness to not only accept the love and acceptance offered but to return it in kind. In this shared space, filled with genuine smiles and soft touches, the foundation of your relationship deepens. It promised a future where both laughter and earnest declarations have a place.

Your heart now feels as if it might burst right out of your chest. Simon’s words, laden with genuine admiration for who you are beyond the surface, touch you profoundly. You've always felt a strong connection with him but hearing him articulate his appreciation for your inner qualities. It's overwhelming in the most beautiful way.

A single tear escapes without your permission tracing a path down your cheek, not out of sadness but from the sheer intensity of emotion swirling within you. Simon notices the tear and his expression softens further. Gently, he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. His touch tender and filled with utmost concern.

As Simon's gentle fingers brush away the tear from your cheek the sweet gesture triggers something deep within you. The floodgates open and a rush of emotions surge forward. You feel an overwhelming mix of relief, gratitude, and a profound connection that you've never experienced so intensely before. Each tear that falls feels like a release of feelings too long held back.

Noticing your distress Simon acts with instinctive care. He gently guides you back into his lap wrapping his strong arms around you. The closeness of his embrace feels like a sanctuary as you nestle into his chest, letting your tears flow freely. Simon rocks you gently. His presence a calming force in the storm of your emotions. "It's okay, it'll all be okay," he murmurs soothingly, his voice a steady, comforting rumble against your ear. Each word he whispers is a balm, helping to steady your shaking breaths as you cry it all out. The built-up emotions washing over you.

After a few moments as the tide of your tears begins to subside, you lift your head to look up at him. Simon meets your gaze with a gentle smile. The softness in his eyes reflecting his deep care for you. "You alright, love?" he asks full of concern and affection for you.

You nod slowly, still nestled in the safety of Simon's embrace. The warmth from his body lending you calm. "I'm sorry, I just got overwhelmed," you explain with your voice barely above a whisper. The flood of emotions was unexpected yet not unwelcome. "It's just... all of this, hearing how you see me. Being this close to you," you continue as your eyes searched his for understanding. "It means so much to me, Simon. More than I can really express."

Simon's smile is genuine as he watches you. Understanding flickering in his eyes as he gently rocks you, keeping you close. "There's nothing to apologize for, love," he reassures you. His voice a steady presence. "It’s okay to feel this deeply. It's okay to let it show. I don’t mind a bit."

His words, affirming and gentle, help to steady the last remnants of your emotional whirlwind. As you slowly pull back to look at him again his hand remains comforting on your back, always reassuring.

"You alright now?" he asks after a moment of watching you closely. His voice low and husky.

Nodding, you manage a more composed smile this time, touched by his patience and care. "Yes, I'm alright. Thank you, Simon. For being here. For understanding," you say with gratitude coloring your tone.

Simon’s response is a tender squeeze of his arms around you. A nonverbal promise of his continued support. "Always," he murmurs. The simplicity of that single word carries with it the weight of his commitment.

In this quiet space held in Simon's arms you realize the strength that lies in vulnerability and the beauty of being seen and accepted. It’s a profound moment between the two of you. One that you both will cherish as a cornerstone of your relationship, built on understanding, respect, and heartfelt emotion.

As you rest quietly in Simon's embrace, comforted by his gentle rocking and the soothing timbre of his voice, you notice a subtle shift in his demeanor. His gaze usually so guarded and controlled now holds an unmistakable depth of emotion. The intimacy of the moment, coupled with the rawness of your tears seems to have broken down the last barriers he had in place.

Simon takes a deep breath as if steeling himself to cross a threshold he's been guarding for too long. "Seeing you like this, feeling so much right alongside you... it's made me realize something," he starts. His voice thick with emotion. His eyes lock onto yours deciding not to hold anything back. "I… I need you to know."

He pauses ensuring he has your full attention. His hands still gently cradling you. "I want to be there for you, not just now but always. I want to be the one you lean on, the one who gets to see all the sides of you, the beautiful, the tough, the vulnerable." His words pour out, fervent and sincere. "I want to be your person, love. If you'll have me."

The confession hangs in the air, bold and heartfelt. Simon's face is open, hopeful yet anxious, as he gauges your reaction. It's clear this isn't just a sudden admission but something he's been grappling with. The intensity of the current situation pushing his feelings to the surface.

You blink back a fresh wave of tears, not from sadness, but from a bewildering mix of joy and doubt. His words are everything you wanted to hear yet they also echo in the corners of your mind where you harbor insecurities. You see him—Simon, so confident, so capable. The embodiment of everything you admire. And then there’s you, the ‘inexperienced little American girl’ as you harshly label yourself, suddenly feeling all the more plain and unworthy beside him.

“Simon,” you start. Your voice wavering not just with emotion but with the weight of your own self-doubt. “Why me? You’re… you’re incredible, and I’m just… I don’t know, I always feel like I’m just stumbling around you. I’m not sure what you see in someone like me.”

As your insecurities surface, revealing the depth of your unsureness, Simon's expression shifts into one of immediate concern and gentle reproof. "Love, you can't be serious…" he begins. His voice imbued with a firm conviction that makes you pause. "You're everything and more. You don’t see that?"

He makes sure you're looking directly at him with his hands tenderly cradling your face, ensuring that you feel the weight and sincerity of his words. "You see inexperience, but I see a woman who bravely faces every new challenge. Who learns and adapts, who grows stronger every day. You’re not just someone trying to keep up. You're someone who enhances our team with your unique strengths and perspective."

Simon's voice softens even further as he continues. Each word carefully chosen to convey his deep admiration and affection. "Every time you think you're just scrambling to catch up, I see someone gracefully navigating through obstacles. What you call inexperience, I call a journey of growth and courage. And that’s what draws me to you. Not just your resilience but your authenticity. The realness you bring to every situation is unguarded and genuine."

He leans in closer reducing the space between you, his gaze locked with yours in an intense, heartfelt connection. "To me, you are a woman who has taught me more about heart and perseverance than anyone else. You bring laughter, support, and challenge to my life in ways you don’t even realize."

Simon shakes his head slightly, a smile tinged with affection and a hint of awe breaking through. "You being you, with all your doubts, your laughs, your dreams—that's what I want and need. You might feel like you're just keeping pace, but love, in my eyes, you're flying. And I want to be there to support you. To celebrate every victory and help you through every challenge."

Simon's words not only offer reassurance but also begin to dismantle the walls of doubt you've built around yourself just as he had. His belief in you, his unwavering support, resonates deeply, perhaps starting to shift how you view yourself. No longer as a mere participant trying to keep up but as an invaluable member of the team whose journey and contributions are deeply cherished.

Overwhelmed by Simon's heartfelt words you find yourself momentarily speechless. His deep belief in your worth and his unwavering support pierce through the layers of your self-doubt, striking a chord deep within you. It's as if his words have not only reached your ears but also wrapped around your heart, offering both solace and a profound reassurance.

Without a word you lean forward, burying your face in the warmth of Simon's chest. The sturdy beat of his heart under your ear is comforting. A steady rhythm in the storm of emotions you're navigating. As you inhale deeply, you're enveloped by his familiar scent, a mixture that's uniquely Simon—part strength, part safety. It's grounding, helping you anchor yourself in the reality of his presence. In the truth of his words.

Simon's arms encircle you gently once more. His hand finding its way to your back where he begins to rub soothing circles. The simple gesture is nurturing, allowing you the space and comfort to collect your thoughts. To let the emotional turbulence settle into a sense of peace. His patience is palpable. There's no rush, no urgency, just a steady presence as he holds you. Affirming that he's there for you, not just in moments of strength but also in moments of vulnerability.

In the sanctuary of Simon's embrace, you feel a deep gratitude washing over you. His support not only uplifts you but also starts to reshape the way you view yourself. The doubts that once loomed large now begin to shrink, overshadowed by the new perspective he's given you—one where you are valued, capable, and cherished.

As you slowly lift your head to meet his gaze your eyes are reflective of the emotions still swirling within you but also shining with a newfound confidence. The connection you share has deepened, strengthened by vulnerability and honesty. You're ready to voice your thoughts, to respond to his openness with your own. “Simon,” you begin. Your voice a whisper that carries all the depth of your emotions, “Can I kiss you?”

The moment hangs suspended. Your question lingering between you, filled with anticipation. Simon’s response is not in words but actions. A reflection of the straightforward, decisive man you know him to be. With a swift, gentle motion, he cups your face in his hands once more. His touch reassuring and intent. Before you can react further he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is a surge of warmth and tenderness. Deepening as if to make up for all the unspoken times you both held back. It's a kiss that communicates more than any words could. Filled with all the emotions that have been steadily brewing—a mixture of relief, affection, and undisguised longing.

When you finally come up for air Simon's eyes twinkle with a mixture of delight and affection. A sweet smirk playing on his lips. “Thought you’d never ask, love,” he teases gently. His voice a soft rumble that sends a thrill through you. The playfulness in his tone lightens the intensity of the moment adding a layer of joy to the emotional depth you've shared.

Amidst the deep embrace, as Simon's arms encircle you, creating a world that consists only of the two of you, his question still lingers in the air. A soft echo amidst the intensity of your mutual connection. "Is that a yes?" His voice, though light and teasing, carries an undercurrent of earnest desire for affirmation, a confirmation of the bond you both feel.

Your body is pressed against his feeling the reassuring strength of his chest. The protective circle of his arms and the gentle touch of his hands tracing soothing patterns on your back. The physical closeness amplifies the emotional intimacy of the moment making the space between heartbeats seem significant filled with unspoken promises and shared dreams.

You lift your head from the sanctuary of his chest meeting his gaze which is alight with anticipation and warmth. His eyes, so often a bastion of resolve, now hold a tender vulnerability, waiting for your words, your confirmation.

"Yes, Simon," you respond, your voice soft but filled with conviction, the words flowing effortlessly in the safety of his hold. "Absolutely it's a yes. I can't imagine being with anyone else but you." The smile that spreads across your face mirrors the joy and sincerity in your heart.

As you speak your hand gently caresses his cheek feeling the slight roughness of his skin beneath your fingertips grounding the moment in the tactile reality of his presence. Simon's reaction is immediate as a deep, relieved breath. And his eyes close for a brief moment, savoring the words that have sealed the understanding between you.

When he opens his eyes again there's a new light in them, one of deep contentment and resolve. He leans in to capture your lips with his once more. This kiss infused with the joy of mutual acceptance and the excitement of a future together. It's a kiss that reaffirms everything that has been shared, a tender seal on the promises made.

Pulling back slightly, Simon's forehead rests against yours. A contented sigh escaping him. "I was hoping you'd say that," he murmurs, his voice a low hum filled with happiness. "You have no idea how much you mean to me."

In the cocoon of Simon's embrace, the air around you pulses with a newfound joy, each moment intensifying the connection that binds you together. With each word, each touch, Simon showers you with the love and affection that he's held back for so long. His lips find yours again, this time more eagerly, conveying emotions too powerful for words.

As Simon deepens the kiss, he pauses briefly, pulling back just enough to gaze into your eyes with an expression brimming with tenderness. "You're so beautiful," he whispers. The warmth of his breath caressing your face as he plants soft kisses along your jawline. Each kiss seems to say what words cannot fully express, marking a trail of affection that sends tingles through your body.

Trailing kisses down your neck, he murmurs, "The prettiest girl I've ever seen," his voice a velvety whisper that wraps around you like a soothing blanket. The sincerity in his tone, coupled with the gentle press of his lips against your skin, makes your heart flutter and your pulse quicken.

He then moves back up to meet your gaze again, his hands cradling your face with a reverence that makes you feel cherished in ways you'd only imagined. "And you're not just beautiful, you're the smartest woman I know," he adds. His admiration for your intellect just as palpable as his physical attraction. His thumbs gently stroke your cheeks as he continues, "Watching you solve problems that stump everyone else—it's incredible."

Simon's compliments flow seamlessly as he explores your face with his kisses. Each touch a testament to his deepening feelings. With every word, every gentle caress, you feel more seen and appreciated than ever before. The connection deepens, wrapping both of you in a tender intimacy that feels both exhilarating and profoundly right.

As you lie there, enveloped in Simon's love and adoration, a giggle escapes you. A sound of pure happiness and contentment. You've never felt so loved, so valued. In Simon's arms, with his voice whispering sweet affirmations, you feel an overwhelming sense of belonging. He's not just a partner. He's your person in every sense, and in this perfect heartfelt moment you trust him completely and utterly.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[azen13]

To Gaze at Polaris

Description: After you manage to escape Jing Yuan's home, the General chases after you to Aurum Alley, intent on bringing you back.

CW: Yandere Themes, Non-Sexual Nudity, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Bathing Together

Pairing: Yandere!Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It is a cold night on the Luofu when Jing Yuan strides through Aurum Alley.

By this time, all the shops, restaurants, and homes have gone dark. There is the faraway din of starskiff traffic, and the quiet buzz of cicadas in the moonlit neighborhood. As he walks through alleys lingering with the scent of day–the smell of tea leaves in particular lingers in his nose–there are no signs of you.

You are good at this, Jing Yuan thinks sadly. He wishes you weren’t.

“Y/N,” Jing Yuan calls quietly, though his voice carries. He does not need to be loud or aggressive to have a presence. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

There is no response.

He sighs. There is no anger in his voice, no vitriol or rage. Jing Yuan–as you have learned by now–is not prone to fits. In fact you’ve never seen him mad, or without at least a fleeting trace of a smile on his face; it's as if he was blessed by Aha THEMSELF. Because whenever he sees you he cannot help but feel light glimmering in his heart like starlight, making it bloom like pink morning glories. They have tender stems, delicate petals and grow in soil that is rocky and dry, but they are growing nonetheless, guided by your light.

He enters a different alley knowing you are hiding in the dumpster. Trivial really, but impressive nonetheless. Your determination is one of the things that attracts him to you most. It is a double edged sword. It comes in various shades and hues. He sees it in your eyes when he challenges you to a friendly game of Star Chess. Or when you’re cooking a new dish.

Or when you are shouting insults at him like if you curse him enough, you can make him disappear. In a way, it has the opposite effect. Every time you sob and plead he coos and reaches out for you, pulls you in tighter with comforting embraces and sweet, cloying words. 

For a few moments, he simply stands there. A part of him wishes that you would just come out. His footsteps are perfectly audible, and you are entirely perceptive enough to know that he has stopped in front of the alleyway. You know that he is there, waiting for you to surrender to his comfort and charm.

But you don’t. 

It drapes his heart in darkness, those flowers wilting when you don’t. He steps forward slowly, eyes fixed on the dumpster, his expression forlorn. “Dearest…please come out. I won’t hurt you.” It’s a promise, and it is one he cannot break. He hates seeing you in pain. He loves your smile. It is radiant in an infinite number of ways: the upturned quirk of your lips; the soft crinkling of your eyes; the way your irises seem to glow. You are a star of glass in his hands, and he is afraid he has shattered you.

But, he thinks, as he continues his slow conquest forward, nearing the dumpster, would that be so horrible? 

His mind flashes to the art of repairing broken pottery–kintsugi–where broken pieces are glued together with a lacquer mixed with gold powder; it is not meant to not hide where the breaks have occurred, but allow them to shine. He could bring you back together, multiply your luminescence by a thousand suns, and he would want you even more. The flowers in his heart would grow and bloom until his veins have become xylem and his tissues petals, every cell in him wanting your light. Craving it. Needing it.

When his hands–gentle and calloused from centuries of spars and fights–lift you from the dirty dumpster, you scream and wriggle in his tight embrace. His heart is flooded by rainstorms, flooding the flowers.

It has been raining for countless months. It feels like dying.

“Shh…it is alright my love,” he murmurs, his arms squeezing tighter around your torso; it’s not enough force to hurt you or bruise you, but enough to keep your squirming contained. “Let’s return home. I think this has been…enough excitement for one night.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

He runs you a bath. You smell like trash now, and that won’t do. He wants the best for you. The best food, the best clothes, the best life. Because when he sees your happiness, even if it is as ephemeral as a shooting star, it rejuvenates his soul. 

The gentle smell of jasmine fills the bathroom as he quietly works shampoo into your hair. By now, you have lost the battle. Is it a sacrifice, though? Or have you truly blundered a piece away on this grand chessboard? Jing Yuan has played you enough times to know your strategies and tactics, the most inner machinations of your mind. You lose to him every time, but always put up a good fight. He hopes that pattern holds true for this game you and him seem to be playing every waking moment.

Water cupped in his hands is brought to your head, washing the suds out of your luxurious hair. Gentle kisses are peppered on your bare shoulders and neck, before his hands reach to massage your shoulder blades. This is what Jing Yuan longs for: days spent in pure domestic bliss. The kind of sunlit silence that leaves him warm and sleepy, craving an afternoon nap next to his lover.

He hums a song. You lean a little more against him, exhausted from your little escapade. He smiles, careful not to chuckle, lest he scares you away like one of his sparrows. Later, perhaps in the morning Jing Yuan will have a conversation with you about this. But for now he is content to enjoy this honeyed moment, bathing in your incandescence, enjoying these brief moments of sunlight before the deluge begins again.

When your fingers start to wrinkle like prunes from the water and your eyes are beginning to droop, he knows it is bedtime. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, letting you get ready for bed as he does the same; his eyes watchful but fond as he brushes his teeth and lets his hair out of its usual ponytail. Searching for the first signs of wind picking up or darkening skies.

The two of you cuddle in bed, though it’s more like Jing Yuan cuddles you, and you tolerate his embrace. His arms wrap around you, loose enough not to hurt but tight enough to anchor him around you. Drift too far away again, and Jing Yuan doesn’t know if he can recover. He needs you. 

He is tired, too. But he is tired in a different way. His fatigue is like that of a mountain carved in twain by the river of time. One day, both sides of that once-mighty peak will collapse. But you give him strength. You are his guiding light. His North Star. His sun. His Polaris.

His breathing begins to even out and he pulls you closer against him, sweet dreams of you and him begin to dance behind his eyelids. Hopefully, he thinks as he lets himself slip into slumber, one day you will forgive him for ripping you from the sky and placing you in his chest, in the space right next to his heart.

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

Happy WTF Friday everyone?! YIKES ON BIKES. That sure was an episode.

Back again with another round of the fic I've been reading this week. You can find previous rec lists here. As previously I'm here for henren and all buddie/bucktommy/buddietommy configurations...and apparently this week, all of heroic_pants' Buck and/or Eddie with Josh fic?!

Bring on the drama. *eyes next week's potential list like...welp*

10 May 2024

a mouth full of teeth and nothing to sing by @cal-daisies-and-briars A HEN CENTRIC FIC!!!!! I'm living. Post 07x03, Hen struggles to process the cruise ship rescue and drunk driver call in the midst of ongoing tension with her friends. In which Hen gets the apologies she deserves and gets to vent her frustrations, whilst also self examining her own actions. Fantastic crunchy characterisation.

time will tell by @bekkachaos '5 times Hen and Karen suspect Buck might not be one hundred percent straight, and 1 time they realise they were so damn right. aka., Henren knows and they occasionally speculate about Buck, and Eddie, and now, Tommy.' For everyone absolutely thriving over that reaction in 7x06.

Better Late Than Never by @pop-me soft semi-somnophilic sapphic henren married vibes which I ADORED. Pillow princess Karen, as she deserves. A gorgeous little slice of life domestic scene that was truly so loving and sexy, loved it.

and my heart and my hat by Anonymous (who are you mysterious author, I love your Tommy voice SO MUCH!) This was such a great Tommy POV from 7x03-7x04, charting his feelings from the moment Chim calls him to ask for his help with the cruise ship search, through to the kiss. I really enjoyed the whole ensemble camaraderie of this fic, Tommy's perspective on Hen, as well as the lovely moments where we see all the ways Buck just being Buck is charming to Tommy. So enjoyable.

raspberry. by @buckttommy good lord...hot!!!!! Buck, Tommy, a gay club, a handsome stranger, exhibitionism and some exploratory D/S vibes. This was just *fans self* super sensuous and unabashedly queer, I loved it.

And if you threw a party, and invited everyone you knew by @pantsaretherealheroes In which 'Eddie wakes up the morning after Maddie and Chimney’s wedding with a hangover, and unexpected bed-mate, has a panic attack and a hell of a realisation. Josh makes coffee. They talk.' This is ultimately a buddie fic, but with some glorious supportive Josh along the way, with just the right amount of cattiness too. I just really loved this dynamic and odd couple vibe.

are we still friends? can we be friends? by @pantsaretherealheroes ok how about that, but instead Buck and Josh genuinely have a casual dating set up and all sorts of fun together, mutually agreeing to keep each other in the loop if it stops being what they want. Meanwhile Eddie is PINING, and Maddie is feeling some kind of way about it all. I just really enjoyed the maturity of the dating within these parameters, and the complicated feelings along the way.

treat your mouth as if it's heaven's gate by @bucktheally this is the fourth part in an bucktommy alternative meeting bright as the morning, soft as the rain series in which Tommy was never part of the 118, but can also be read standalone. Look this instalment of the fic got me totally enchanted the moment that Buck set himself up with his laptop 'intent on Wikipedia’ing himself into the queer community in-between naps.' Perfect characterisation. No notes. The fic is sexy, sweet, and I love the development of their relationship set up from this initial premise. Buck just loves to learn!

Won't Be Long Before I Belong by @justaswampdemon a post madney wedding coda fic in which Buck accidentally comes out via soot and Tommy meets everyone. Sweet, tender, gentle and caring.

PS - once again sending out the signal to ask if you have any henren authors/fic recs I should check out PLEASE let me know! I love them!

[thelordofgifs]

Friday Fic Recs: Long WIP edition

I’ve been thinking a little bit about the (very arduous) process of writing longfic, and how much of a difference support and cheerleading can make on that particular journey; so, although it’s been a while since I’ve made a Friday rec list, I thought I’d put one together celebrating all the incredible in-progress longfics in the Tolkien fandom I’m keeping up with at the moment!

Atandil series by @eilinelsghost. Such a gorgeous graceful moving exploration of Finrod and his relationship with Men, and the slowest and most sensual of slow burns in his romance with Bëor. The amount this series has made me THINK – about love, and hope, and memory, and Taliska grammar – is off the charts, and to top it off it’s written in the loveliest most Tolkienesque prose.

we will make this place our home by @leucisticpuffin. Ohh this AU is just like a warm gentle hug after a long day. The “kidnap fam but make it a classic children’s novel” concept is so so inspired, all the characterisations are so nuanced and moving (Maglor my beloved!!) and the OCs will steal your heart.

And Love Grew by @polutrope. On the other end of the kidnap fam spectrum, this complex and careful examination of the time after the Third Kinslaying is SO brilliant. Incredible characterisations of all the key players, some truly fascinating OCs (Dornil!!) and of course beautiful graceful prose.

tongues of the sky series by @welcomingdisaster. The first fic in this series, seabird, was written for me and I can be SO obnoxious about this :) but also it’s a wonderful moving ultimately hopeful fix-it AU with note-perfect russingon and m&m dynamics. The sequel, sparrowhawk, is currently in progress and soooo good.

ashes, ashes, dust to dust — the devil’s after both of us by @that-angry-noldo. This is SUCH an original and fascinating take on an AU where Maedhros and Maglor take Finarfin captive to bargain for the Silmarils, featuring incredible character dynamics and a terrifyingly eldritch Eönwë.

and all his towers cast down by @actual-bill-potts. What if Finrod survived the events of the Leithian? Well, angst and trauma, to start off with. And also beautiful beautiful writing, impeccable characterisation and a Maglor-Lúthien teamup!! I adore this AU.

All That Glitters Gold Rush AU series by @allthatglittersisnotgoldrush. This one is LONG LONG LONG, but also SO worth it. Ever wanted to see the entire Silmarillion retold as a western, complete with a terribly tragic and complicated Maedhros, Morgoth the terrifying slave-owner, and a beautifully multicultural Doriath? The authors have you covered.

And the Stars Shine the Same series by @runawaymun. OC-centric fic is such a rare delight and this series set in early Third Age Rivendell is just wonderful, tender and complicated and with a truly incredible Elrond.

Retelling the Hobbit comic by @retellingthehobbit. Something a little different, but I binged all of this comic retelling of The Hobbit on a plane recently and GOD it’s so so beautiful. A truly gorgeous art style, and slowly converting me from a Bilbo/Thorin sceptic into an enjoyer!

In Heart by @tanoraqui. An AU where Fëanor takes the Doom of the Noldor as a what-not-to-do manual and ends up making better choices! Featuring incredible worldbuilding and fantastic characterisation.

Please add on the longfics you love in the reblogs! Let’s get some love going for these difficult beasts!

(Couple of incest recs under the cut.)

naught green upon the oak series by @welcomingdisaster. A CoH-inspired Maedhros/Maglor AU in which Maglor winds up with amnesia after his encounter with Glaurung. I’m SO insane about this series that I can’t be coherent but it is fantastic and chilling and devastating with the most beautiful prose aahhh.

Strange Currencies by @jouissants. Maedhros is re-embodied at last only to learn that he is married to Maglor: a touching and painful post-canon fic interleaved with incredible flashbacks to the First Age.

[lunerium]

Hello dear person. I hope I don't bother you… I come messaging you because I have no one else to talk to about it … I came to really like the couple between Ciel and Sebastian but it's hard to find content about them And I did not read the manga yet I wanted to know if there was Sebaciel content in the public arc school ? And if according to you, what was the arc that had the best content about them ?

Hello again, @canonicallytrue heh. I'm sorry I haven't answered all your asks, but finally, I've had some time to start writing.

I answered your question about which arc had the most sebaciel in it, in this post.

But your question about the sebaciel moments in the public school arc did catch my eye. After all, the new season is still being released, and there are many sebaciel moments that we have yet to see.

Their "first meeting" is notably Sebaciel. Sebastian is completely in his role as "Professor Michaelis", and pretends that it is the first time he has seen Ciel. It is an amusing interaction between the two because they are just going to pretend they don't know each other. Also, the fact that this entire arc is filled with shojo tropes, and this is one of the first shojo moments we see. Where the heroine falls, and the love interest offers a helping hand.

Onto the next moment, or rather, moments. We have their late-night rendez vous. They are so intimate, so clandestine, that perhaps even a rumor got spread that Phantomhive was always in Mr. Michaelis' office late at night. I would give anything to know what the students truly thought about that.

First, this rather erotic pose Ciel does for Sebastian. He got a little too caught up in his role as a student, he refers to him as a professor even in private, heh. The pose he is doing, as if attempting to seduce him, doesn't help much either.

Adding this little exchange between the two. And yes, Yana surrounded them in shojo bubbles :)

A Sebaciel moment that became iconic throughout the fandom: The Library Scene. The famous moment where Sebastian urgently pinned Ciel against the bookshelves, late at night, while covering his mouth. Not only that, but the scene right before that, where Sebastian carefully sneaks a secret note to Ciel while he is teaching the class. A moment truly worthy of a romance novel.

Onto our next moment: When Ciel "thanked" Sebastian for recommending him to the team. Yes, Professor Michaelis recommended Ciel to the team, and Ciel had to thank him. But was it truly necessary to create a whole shojo scene? Ciel runs into Sebastian's arms like two lovers seeing each other after being apart for a long time, the way he so genuinely smiles, and lightly blushes. Also, the shojo bubbles all around them. Yana intended to make them canon from the very start. Those two students walking past them must've thought these two had a romantic affair going on.

The way Sebastian so tenderly and lovingly looked at Ciel here, with genuine affection. This was not acted. This was truly romantic. And also, he carried him bridal style all across the field, while letting Ciel rest his head on his shoulder. I screamed a little during this scene.

Sebastian, again, looked at Ciel with the most tender eyes. And then, he made his pastries. He truly was showing his romantic side a little too much in this arc, huh. Pastry-making and acts of service are his love language. Even Ciel is impressed at Sebastian's efficiency, but Sebastian only wants to see a smile on his master's face <3

The last and most cathartic Sebaciel moment of all, is when Sebastian absolutely loses it over thinking that Undertaker might steal Ciel away from him. Just the thought of it, he was losing it. He even imagined Ciel being stolen by the Undertaker like his damsel in distress, surrounded by rose petals. And then he admits to Ciel, that the thought of him getting stolen away is just something that he cannot afford. He cannot even afford to fathom it. He has gone completely and obsessively feral over Ciel, to the point of delirium.

And that concludes this little blog, I hope these Sebaciel moments made your day :) Bonus:

The Season 4 ED, although not part of the school arc by itself, it is part of the fourth season. I will never grow tired of it. It is just so romantically beautiful.

[petrasdisapproves]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧.

I'm going to write the obvious things now, but I need to remind myself (and those who need it): It's 𝙊𝙆𝘼𝙔 to look at the same character from different angles. Analyze and interpret his actions and words in different ways. Have your own vision of a romantic relationship with this character.

What I'm trying to say is, it's 𝙊𝙆𝘼𝙔 if you see Astarion as a lost and vulnerable character or just a damn charming manipulator. If he actually has a complex personality or just an arrogant and sassy vampire for you. If you like the more vulnerable or strong sides of him. If you see him as a victim or as a villain. As a bad guy who has a chance on redemption, who can become a better version of himself, even a hero perhaps, - or as a magnificent bastard who doesn't need and doesn't wish to change anything about himself. Or you can see 𝘢𝘭𝘭 that in him at once! (and still love him for it.) :D

This also applies to the relationship with Astarion. If you see a character as bisexual/pansexual, or perhaps in your opinion he is more into women/man/other, that's fine. Ascended or spawn can love your tav or durge, regardless of their race and gender, because the game still allows to romance him. In your headcanons, Astarion can also have a unique interaction with your character. For example, they can be cheeky and insolent, have more 'hot' type of dynamic, or on the contrary - they can be more tender and soft with each other, because Astarion can behave unusual with his partner when he opens his heart. Astarion can have wild passionate sex with your tav/durge 24/7 if you wish, so they won't get out of their tent/cozy chambers any time soon. Or maybe in your story he still needs time to adjust and has yet to learn how to make physical contact without unpleasant feelings and memories of the past hunting him. Perhaps in your headcanon Astarion doesn't need sex at all (for a while or permanently). Or maybe he's not against polyamory and intimate experiments. Your Astarion can be the top. Or he can be the bottom. ( just like he can be big or a small spoon in your relationships :) ).

AND YES. If you prefer Astarion's ending as Ascended vampire or as a spawn... 𝙄𝙏'𝙎 𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙆𝘼𝙔! If you want a luxurious life with your Ascended Vampire Daddy (sorry couldn't help it ;D), you can have it. If you see AscendedA as a man who hides his vulnerability and insecure behind a display of power and dominant behaviour, who still in love with your tav/durge and perhaps scared they might leave him one day or that they fond of him only for his charms and power, then this is 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣. But if you see AscendedA as a manipulator and a liar, a cruel tyrant who has become the worst version of himself, who does not know love and would just use/abuse you, this is also 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣.

Same for the spawnA ending. You can see different type of progress in this path, how Astarion breaks a vicious cycle of violence and abuse, his personal growth and how he is overcoming his fears and weaknesses by trusting you in the moment of choice during the ritual. You can see this as a way of story where Astarion had sacrificed the sun and power, but where you saved him from himself and opened another door - the one where he will learn another meaning of freedom. Where he will discover other possibilities in his future, where his personality/behaviour remained unchanged or even improved in the way he couldn't even think of. And he will certainly find other values in his life, as well as he will learn more of himself, like 'what he is' now, when Cazador gone. He can enjoy adventures and dangers just as AscendedA enjoys ruling from the Crimson palace. SpawnA can love your durge/tav because he 𝘊𝘏𝘖𝘖𝘚𝘌𝘚 to, because you are equal and have a deep bond built on trust. Not because he clings to you as you were his lifeline or a safe blanket. Or on the contrary, you can see like spawn completely dependent on you, sacrificing everything just for you. Perhaps without your tav/durge, he will never feel happy and free again, perhaps his world is currently limited to you. Perhaps in your opinion, this ending actually is not best for him and his future seems rather pathetic and poor.

So my point is. These are 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 and 𝙮𝙤𝙪 have the right to fantasize as much as you like, 𝙖𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚. Just remember: 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮. Baldur's Gate is a roleplay game, damn it. No one has the right to judge how you play it, either your choices or opinions in the different matters. Or your headcanons. We all looking for comfort in something specific for ourselves, we all need different things to escape from reality, and that's why we here. We have our own experiences and traumas, own worldviews and own understanding of what's right and wrong. During the interaction with other people, we can feel them on different levels, as well as perceive and analyze same characters from certain angles. And simply as that, 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩. And it's fine.

For me, Astarion is a complex character who you can discuss and talk about endlessly, because - honestly? - there is NOT ENOUGH content in the game to make an unambiguous verdict on all issues related to his personality and story. A lot of ideas and scenario stuff for Astarion has been cut from the game even before the release, a lot has been changed in process and a lot of content leaved unfinished. But we have what we have, and I'm still happy with that, because I still get to enjoy character, and it also thanks to modders and people who makes headcanons, screenshots and all kind of friendly content with that charming brat.

I sincerely believe that everyone has the right to interpret Astarion in their own way, as well as to have their own imaginary future with a fictional vampire, damn it. Every tav/durge can have their own happiness with him, whatever it may be, no matter how they see it. Everyone chooses and goes their own path with Astarion. And it is precisely these different headcanons that makes your couple and this vampire unique. <3 𝙋𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙡𝙡. *drops the microphone*

[rarityroo]

Hey there, I had a idea for a Jax x sibling reader. Maybe the reader looks up to their big brother a lot  and wants to be just as mischievous as him when they get older. But Jax is often annoyed by their clingy behavior and doesn’t want them following him around 24/7 but does have a very soft spot for them.<3 Like imagine a scenario where Jax has to go put his younger sibling to bed and finds them in their room sleeping on a drawing they were making for him.🥺 maybe he even scoops them up into his arms and tugs them into bed. I know Jax is a asshole but I would love to see him have a soft spot if he did have a younger sibling of sorts.😭

Darling drawings

(Jax x Gn! Sibling-like Reader) Platonic

Hi! So sorry this took so long sadly my sickness has gotten worse. I won’t be posting anymore writing for today because it’s Mother’s Day and I’m planning on spending time with my momma. Also I’m so sorry this is so short please lmk if you liked it, Enjoy!!

Jax wasn't a great influence, especially for someone so young but you didn’t care.

You wanted to be just like him, sure Jax wasn’t the biggest fan when you’d follow him around and sure Ragatha hated how you would copy his sadistic nature.

But despite his crude exterior, he had a soft spot for you that he couldn't shake off.

As much as Jax tried to push you away, there were moments when he couldn't help but see a reflection of himself in you. He couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility, he hated it, he wasn’t responsible for you? So why did he feel like he needed to take care of you? Knowing that you were looking up to him as a role model, even if he didn't feel worthy of it himself, made him feel strange, something he couldn’t quite explain….

Jax wondered in the tent, going by various rooms, maybe he could put some centipedes in Ragatha's room? Maybe he could go mess with Gaggle.

Then he came by your room, “Wonder what the kid is up to?” Jax mutters as he walks into your room. The scene was somewhat sweet.

In that quiet moment, as Jax entered your room to find you peacefully sleeping, the sight of you clutching onto the drawing you had made for him brought a softness to his hear drawing of you and him standing outside of the circus tent, heh cute. He thought,

He couldn't help but smile, a real genuine smile, not one of malice or out of sadism, no this was a rare expression on him, as he approached your bed.

Gently, he scooped you up into his arms, careful not to disturb your slumber, and tucked you in with utmost tenderness. He felt ridiculous, but he didn’t mind. You were a good kid.

As he watched over you for a moment, a wave of protectiveness washed over him, a silent promise to himself to take care of you despite everything.

And in that fleeting moment, amidst his own selfishness, he found solace in the simple act of caring for you, a kid who looked up to him with unwavering affection.

[pinazee]

Psy vs. Psy

I genuinely think that if they were going to bring back any psych villian, Lindsay Leikin would pose the biggest threat. She knows Shawn isn’t psychic, she has adequate motivation to target him personally, and has the skills to prove he’s a fraud and do it slyly as she is also highly skilled in deductive reasoning (she did manage to get them to the counterfeiter to begin with so she has legitimate talent). She could even orchestrate it from prison. Maybe her parole was denied again so, like, what else is she going to do? Plus, she’s kind of nuts. Faking being a psychic with the FBI is a whole other level of bold compared to a local precinct, then she met a counterfeiter and was like yes please, more crime, then killed him when he tried to run, slept with Shawn that same night, then tried to take him hostage when she got caught. Its just a shame she wasn’t a bit more charismatic or eccentric. They had her play it as a very normal girl swept into a life of crime because of a guy (probably because she was a “love interest” for Shawn) when the receipts show she was an absolute lunatic (look at her face after they found the guy she killed. This bitch is smiling).

Also, she just kinda gave up when she was caught. I wish she’d have been screaming “he’s a fraud!” as she was taken to the car or even had a heart to heart moment with Lou Diamond Phillips because she did betray him after all. Idk, i just wanted more. (But i think maybe the writers recognized this and thats how we get Declan later??)

Gus is basically siri at this point. Between the archeology, safes, online poker, the law, tennis players, space, comic books, of course pharmaceuticals, and now studies tender from all over the world- its a smaller list of what Gus doesn’t know. Gus clearly likes learning. I’m surprised he never thought of becoming a teacher or college professor, to try to pass that love of learning to the next generation. Though i guess we see he’s not that great with people surprisingly, considering he’s a successful salesman. (OH MY GOD WHAT IF THIS WHOLE TIME GUS ACTUALLY HAD LIVED UP TO HIS POTENTIAL AND BECAME AN INTERNATIONAL SPY. He knows all these things because of his job, psychs only been able to stay open because Gus can fund it from his spy job, joining psych was a good front but he was also lonely from never getting to be himself. I kid, i kid, but its a fun idea for me haha)

No fucking way shawn doesn’t know what a drill is. Henry definitely would have beat that kind of man stuff into him. The military time too. I just felt the need to point this out. its like the show itself is dissing my boy and i have to defend him lol

I love when Gus is proud and smarmy over shawns talent. Look at his face here. My boy about to prove you wrong.

And do you think Shawn is actually afraid of competition or do you think he learned at an early age from his father that he didn’t have value unless he was the best? Huh Henry, huh???(Weekend warriors “you don’t want to be a loser” comes to mind)

Henry trying some reverse psychology here. I can’t tell if its because Henry is actually concerned for Shawns safety like he said he wasn’t in the previous episode, or if he’s still taking it personally that Shawns using the gifts he “gave” him to be psychic. Probably both. We know he was really bothered by his motorcycle accident, so i wonder if he’s been kind of spiraling, and adding up all the crazy situations he’s been in. (Which, i don’t think Shawn tells him about. i think Gus calls him like a weekly report haha) I think the fact that shawns cases are becoming more dangerous he suddenly doesn’t like the idea of him being a detective, well a detective this way at least, because i think in his mind he’d be safer if he was an actual cop where he had a partner with a gun, and back up, and rules, and training. I mean we know he wouldn’t be, (look at what happens to Lassie and Juliet)

I just wanted to gif this because it’s one of my fave jokes in the episode!

Mildred to the rescue! Im not entirely sure how this worked but it did and thats what matters haha

*Appropriate reaction is appropriate*

[ghoulphile]

Ok sorry to bother you, I love you're account sm! I just can't stop thinking about cooper and reader finding an abandoned vault.

Like they decide to stay the night so they both get cleaned up, and it's the first time readers used a proper shower so they spend ages in there. And they find the previous inhabitants skincare stuff and start putting it all on. Maybe they find a magazine with hairstyle instructions too. And then of course the clothes fit perfectly so they have to try some on.

So they end up spending ages in the bathroom/bedroom getting ready and trying different things, so eventually cooper is like tf is taking you so long? But when reader comes out they look gorgeous, smelling like flowers. And its all for him. Maybe reader starts feeling their skin, telling him how smooth they feel, and now cooper just has to see for himself. Anyway they end up making good use of the bed (and the counters, and tables, and shower-)

This all came to me after I saw a tiktok where a woman was trying on this gorgeous 50s dress.

No bother at all darling!! I love hearing your guys' thoughts ❤️

🥹 but why is this idea so cute though

like its the first time they've ever experienced that kind of self care - that kind of luxury - and it's a flash from the past for cooper. for just one night, he can hang up the mantle of rough n tuff cowboy.

pretend like its back before the war, before he was twisted and turned into this husk of a human. he can let himself thaw, be the tender man he used to be. follow the softness of your skin with his fingers, his lips. treasure the moment because the wasteland doesn't offer these kinds of respites very often.

it's the happiest you've both been in a long time. no having to look over your shoulders, struggle to find your next meal. fight and claw for the right to survive.

you can simply be. imagine. daydream of a what-if, if only for a little while.

[mydysfunctionalvampirefamily]

Okay in honour of the Q and A episode I'm going to list my favourite moments of the coterie and then af a few npc's.

Neil: him just sinking to his knees and crying when his haven gets destroyed in season 1. I just love to see him in pain, he suffers so prettily. But also his talk with Johnny about his bloodbond and how the coterie as a whole doesn't look longterm.

Miles: obviously the post Marcos angst. And when he says Really?! Really!? When Wynn accuses him of wanting to sacrifice Neil for his own need for revenge. You can really hear the hurt in there and the like wow you think so low of me huh. With an honourable mention to every time he is just indignant and passive aggressive, it's just so funny.

Johnny: It has to be Johnny throwing that Bruja from the roof, because omg. And the phone call he did to his wife. The duality in Johnny of being so tough, but having such a tender heart is really good.

Wynn: Not one moment, but the Wynn we see when Joey is around, it just the mama bear so intensified, so caring and protective and sweet. And 2 or 3 moments in season 2 where Wynn says the exact right thing at the wrong time and causes her coterie mates to frenzy with a few words. 😂

Britta: My favourite automated response is her just killing Zantosa. And my favourite real Britta moment was her first time feeding. I feel like it often gets glossed over how hard and awkward that must be the first few times. And poor Britta she had a hard time and had a lot of feelings about it and I love that we saw all of that.

[hawkeyeslaughter]

hawktrap x dropping whatever they were doing to comfort them .

the way they both squeeze sanchez / margaret closer to them . GOD .

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

have you ever thought about yandere geto more specifically yandere CULT geto. cus i do. quite often.

HI ANON hmmm hm hm………… okay so honestly. i’m not super into yanderes at all so i don’t know if i’ll have much to contribute with when it comes to this kinda thing :’3 bUT i do love cult leader!geto to the moon and back + i’ve been thinking of him incessantly lately + i think he’s only a couple steps away from being a yan lol.

geto’s whole Thing is his contrast; he can kill a man swiftly, cruelly, only to go meet his beloved family right after with a genuine smile on his face. (we see that almost instantly in jjk 0!!) he really does have that cruel / soft contrast that i assume a bunch of yan content is built on…. he would treasure his beloved soooo dearly and i absolutely don’t think he’d shy away from killing any non-sorcerers that were giving them trouble… but again!! this isn’t even yan!geto, this is literally just Geto. that’s just how he is in canon 😭😭 he’s willing to go to any lenghts to protect his loved ones, and his own morals are aligned towards his view of non-sorcerers as non-human. he doesn’t see them as human, so why would he feel guilty for killing them?

but ok so to kinda go back to the idea of yan!geto… i think the biggest difference between him and yan!gojo (imo!!) is that gojo is willing to look past his morals to keep you safe, knowing that it’s Wrong but choosing not to care, while geto doesn’t let go of his morals — instead, he twists them until they align with what he’s doing. if that makes sense. to him, doing what he does for you is morally just. so he doesn’t feel shame or guilt for it.

aaaaand this is also why i don’t really feel Equipped to talk abt him….. because yan!geto would probably be a lot Worse than yan!gojo …….. and i’m embarrassingly sensitive to dark content :’3 i can see the appeal and the yan undertones are absolutely There but i think i see cult leader!geto in a very moe light PHJEHSJD he’s… my meowmeow. he can do no wrong. he hasn’t had a single evil thought in his Life <33

SOO to change the subject rq!!!!! kind of!!!! (i’m sorry anon i’ve just been thinking abt more fluffy scenarios w him lately and i need an outlet </3) i genuinely think cult leader geto!would be such a great lover :(( it’s easy to see him as a yan (AND THERE’S ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG W THAT TO BE CLEAR) but i just . genuinely think he would be sooo gentle and loving and silly? protective and possessive and imposing, sure, but he would honestly rather die than hurt you in any way. i don’t think his soul could take it.

like. it’s just so telling that geto canonically lets his family believe what they want, and do what they want; he doesn’t force them to see non-sorcerers the same way he does, he doesn’t keep nanako & mimiko from exploring the world and interacting w non-sorcerers, and so on!! his own beliefs are steadfast, but he doesn’t use them as an excuse to confine the people he cares for. he trusts them and loves them and even though i’m sure he’s paranoid he lets them run free.

so!! i think he would be very patient and accepting no matter what his s/o believed or did. i can see him being a bit a Lot of a helicopter parent but it’s never malicious, it’s just for safety purposes!! he just couldn’t bear to have anything happen to you </3 cult leader!geto is cynical and cautious and he isn’t taking any chances when it comes to your safety. but!! he’s still so silly and doting and i think he’s just so sweet…. 🥺🥺 i’m writing the outline for a fic rn where his s/o works at a regular preschool and he hates interacting with your coworkers in any capacity but he still does it to make u happy … yk??? like how he went with his girls to eat crepes in jjk 0. he just wants to give and give. our acts of service king <333

overall i see cult leader!geto as someone who hides his inherent softness behind a dark exterior, and while he’s far more willing to be cruel than hs suguru was, he never really changed at his core!! he’s just overflowing with softness and care. we see this so clearly in the scene where he’s alone with nanamimi, his girls, and everything is soft and quiet and geto is completely unguarded. and he’s so, so soft. his softness doesn’t even have a twisted hint to it, he just loves you. and he wants the best for you. i think the horror would only come from seeing how quickly he goes from cooing into your ear to disposing of a non-sorcerer with a freezing look in his eyes; the whiplash is scary. but if it scared his s/o i think he’d be hell-bent on not letting you see him like that unless absolutely necessary.

it’s difficult because so much of his character in this stage of his life has to do with cruelty, but all he truly wants at his core is to create a world where his loved ones will be happy :(( where he can protect them properly. idk i just can’t really see cult leader!geto as toxic at the end of the day….. he’s a puppydog to me. a foxcoded, silly little guy. despite his cult leader / genocide loving tendencies i think he would be a very soft, selfless lover <333 overwhelmingly devoted. the weight of his devotion could honestly be frightening and i feel like he could be sweet in a kind of twisted way (something like this) but at the end of the day he’s very particular about only showing you his soft side.

THOSE ARE MY SPONTANEOUS THOUGHTS i’m sorry they weren’t too focused on yan!geto anon :’3 but i hope u got some enjoyment out of them anyway!!! if u have any thoughts of ur own then i’d absolutely love to hear em <33