#this image has been on my mind for a year now if someone already did this or if this meme format is terribly old im sorry 😔

[ms--lobotomy]

40k Lion being an an absolute freak. A slutty old man. A whore. Anything will do really.

Normally I don't answer requests while they're closed, but @kit-williams has a long overdue birthday gift involving Lion of either type. I was already going to do 40k Lion, but this is the kick in the ass I needed to finally write the fic. Thank you, Anon!

Summary: Lion reunites with an old lover.

Word Count: 649

Content Warnings: This one's real soft but like. Armor kink and breeding and vague NSFW

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You were going to become a mother. At least, that's what he had promised you. Before Horus lost his mind, before the man you loved vanished without so much as telling anyone where he'd gone. Ten thousand years had gone by. Despite your nature as a Perpetual, it was a long and accursed wait for something that might not even happen. Ten thousand years, and you'd not given up for a day.

Someone who'd been the lover of a Primarch would have had to go into hiding for the foreseeable future. So hide you did, moving from planet to remote planet and never staying for more than a few Earthen years. It was late at night while you worked. The noises you heard were like small earthquakes, but rhythmic as one thump superseded another. Right after the last one, you heard a knock.

"Shouldn't you be...?" you asked, words failing you.

"What in the galaxy do you mean?" you heard a familiar voice respond.

It all clicked in your mind. Perhaps the footsteps of a Primarch were so unfamiliar to you nowadays, so otherworldly that you'd mistaken them for something else. You hadn't looked out of any windows, but you saw a familiar shade of green. And you'd recognize the voice anywhere, if it was a little huskier and a little more worn.

"Lion?"

"Indeed," he replied, "now if you could invite me in, that would be quite welcome."

You tilted your head. He was never one to announce his presence, and the Lion you knew would open the door himself if he'd wanted to see you. Oh, well, you've reasoned with yourself. Most people change in ten thousand years. As you approached the door, you saw the familiar etchings in his verdant armor. You opened it and craned your neck up to look at him.

"You've aged," you said softly as he ran a hand along your cheek. His wrinkles were far more pronounced, and his hair was silver instead of the blonde you remembered. His forest-green eyes were the same, and he made rare eye contact with you as the crows feet grew deeper with his smile.

His smile widened. "You haven't," he replied, kneeling down. He slipped a hand behind your knees and lifted you up, his armor cold against your skin.

You relaxed. Despite the metal armor, his hold was as comfortable as your remember. He stood up. You hadn't felt that rush of air in a long while. You were now higher above the ground than you were tall.

He lifted you to his mouth, and you bared your neck as he pressed kiss after soft kiss into it. His whiskers were still rough against your skin, but that was a welcome feeling after going so long without it. Your eyes met again, and you let out a light giggle.

"I've missed you," he mumbled before resuming his activity.

"I've..." you started. How were you even going to begin to describe how you felt, those ten thousand years of sleepless nights waiting for him? That empty feeling of waiting, of not knowing whether your efforts were for nothing. Relief didn't even begin to cover how you were feeling. "I've missed you t-!"

He set you down and knelt before you again, pressing his lips onto yours and pressing you into the side of your house. The straps of your sundress were pushed up and to the side, and your eyes widened as his closed. After a minute, he pulled away.

"Too soon?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"N, no," you whimpered. You made no effort to pull the straps of your dress back up, thanking your lucky stars that you had no neighbors.

"Good," he said. "Now, help me take off my armor. I want to keep my promise to you."

"What-?"

"You're going to become a mother when I'm done with you."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

[valerian-riverheart]

How are we doing wizards

[kishibei]

GUYS MY AGE ...

dilf! toji x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.6k words

summary: toji loves everything about his younger girlfriend, all except the overly friendly relationship she has with his son. to curb his unspoken fear of losing you, you fuck him.

cont: jealousy, possessive language, affectionate toji, missionary, mating press, no resolution, creampie per usual

Toji loved your body; he could never fight that little nagging thought sitting in the back of his mind— the one telling him to touch you.

Your boyfriend's hands were strong, holding a roughness that was tender in its own right— the honest pads of his fingers hardened from years of dirty work.

His fingerprints were practically committed to your memory, each one just a little different from the next. Uneven swirls and ridges winded into each other; tips tacked with scars and deeper indentations from his gunslinging days.

You could feel them all when he walked his hands down your body; even more so when he had you spread open across his thighs, teasing you with just a couple of fingers.

...

Toji appreciated the softer parts of you and paid more attention to them. Your chest, your ass, and the slight pinch of your cheeks constantly reminded him of your youth compared to his— a youth that appeared long gone when you'd met his gaze now; thin black eyes adorned with crow's feet.

His eyes held a vision that was faraway, a distant kind of look he'd always given when he was upset about something. That stoney face he wore never failed to betray his emotions, bearing them on his sleeves despite his best efforts at swallowing them down. There was only one thing that could've been bothering Toji; the same thing that had been eating him up for weeks— his irrational fear of losing you.

Toji really had nothing to worry about when it came to keeping you to himself. You were a one man kind of girl, ignoring the advances of any others who set their sights on you. He often scorned your younger peers, making fun of them without second thought, especially taking joy in tormenting the very man who introduced you to himself: his own son.

...

His first and only, Megumi was beyond fit. Clever, agile, and full of much more life than he was; Megumi was the spitting image of Toji in his younger years. Their striking resemblance was never quite something he saw as a bad thing, at least not until he began to date you.

It was the spoils of his own labor he envied— so much younger and almost perfect for you.

With the kind of drive that came with youth, Megumi easily had a long list of goals he fought fiercely to achieve; ones that he was never really shy to let you know of. He was shameless in this right, not even trying to hide his willingness to impress you in front of his father.

Toji would have been an idiot to not notice his son's infatuation with you. Only a fool would've choosen to ignore the longing glances, the lingering hugs, how the younger man always managed to look away whenever his father kissed you.

At times your boyfriend wondered if you’d prefer someone who wasn't this much your senior, mumbling his insecurities into your chest when he thought you’d already fallen asleep at night.

You had loved him just as much as he did you; your heart swelling with an appreciation for all things Toji. So here in his lap, you humor him; giving him a small reminder of just who you belonged to.

The man had softened up over the years but his strength still remained, thick corded muscle staying firm beneath the thinning skin he had cursed so much.

You hardly blinked; watching intently as he fingered the hem of the shirt he was wearing, peeling it off slowly to expose his muscular chest. His pecs were adorned with light blue branches of veins that shone through his patinaed skin.

Despite how perfect, almost god-like he appeared in this moment, the sight reminded you of his humanity.

You're not sure of what exactly he did before he settled down with you, how many people he’d really killed, or the curses that followed him in his lifetime; but it was a reminder that blood still ran thick in those veins of his, and that they sustained the heart that bled only for you.

“I love you…” he whispered, the sudden confession making you laugh. A giggle bubbled up in your throat before bursting forth into the air, a sound reminiscent of wind chimes escaping your lips. It was an infectious thing, lifting the corners of Toji’s lips to form a gentle arc that stretched from cheek to cheek.

He's impatient when he tugs your jeans off, not even bothering to remove his as he opens his fly just enough to pull his heavy cock out. You know he’s hard despite the fact it barely stands erect, his leaky head bowing under the weight of the rest of him.

You can't help but lick your lips as you stare down at it, eyes already lidded with hazy vision as he grips onto the base, slipping into you without much of a fight.

A shaky breath leaves Toji's lips as he settles in, hissing at how your hole flutters, already clamping down on him.

"Shit..” he sibilates, “so fuckin’ wet for me…”

The words seem to go straight to your pussy as you clench around him, whining a bit from the praise and the mind-numbing feeling of him sinking into you.

He’s so big, he knows he is. Toji’s fully aware of how he fills you to the brim, how deep he reaches, practically prodding at your cervix as he lowers you down on him. He’s teeming with confidence now, pressing down on your tummy to show you just where he’s sure the tip of his length reaches.

“Mm, you feel that, baby?”

You blink slowly, trying to clear your head enough to find the words to respond. Pushing past little whimpers, you stumble over all the syllables you need. Deciding it's best to give up on speaking, you nod profusely, craning your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. Upon revealing your stupefied expression to him, he laughs like he always does; a low rumble that just drips in arrogance as it falls from his lips.

“That’s all me…” he purrs, deft fingers slowly caressing the rest of your body, stopping to squeeze at your soft chest.

His unyielding touch moves down to your legs; strong hands finding purchase on the back of your thighs as he practically folds you in half, pressing your thighs to your chest like nothing.

It's so much, and you can feel him even deeper now, every inch of him plunging into you at a disconcerting pace. You squeal as he pounds into you sloppily, pressing messy kisses to your cheeks, the tops of your ears, down the expanse of your neck, and just about every bit of skin he can get his lips on from this angle.

He loves you, this you know. And even if he hadn't said it earlier, the way he’s fucking you says it all.

“Ooohh, shit Toji!” you sputter, eagerly bouncing on the man’s lap as you try to match his thrusts. Your body shakes with the force of each pump, moaning wantonly as he slowly drags his cock out of you, ramming it back in your dripping hole again and again.

You seem to be growing dumber by the second, incoherent babbles and whines leaving your lips as he fucks the shit out of you. If you could focus on one thing, you would; but your eyes shift everywhere, rolling into the back of your head before meeting with the place where your bodies connected, watching in a trance as Toji’s thick cock disappears into your sopping wet cunt.

Toji grunts, his hips bucking wildly as he clings to you tightly, your back against his broad chest as he uses the force of his pounding to bounce you on even harder than before. He grits through his teeth, eyes shutting hard before they open again, his lips at your ears as a string of expletives leave them.

“Fuckin’ hell, ease up, you’re squeezin’ me…” he strained, jaw clenched so tightly that it looked like it might just break.

Toji looked like he was reeling, so close to the edge but still holding on, trying to push you over yours before letting himself go.

“Fuck…whose pussy is this?" he panted, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried keeping his pace, his hips stuttering as he got closer to finishing now.

You couldn’t answer, mouth preoccupied with moan after the next as you tried anyways, babbling at him like an idiot.

“Mmngh! Y-yours! Yours, right?!"

It was difficult to even answer him straight, just saying anything, you jumbled up the first few words that floated into your hazy mind.

Toji laughed, taking in a shaky breath as he kept going, pulling your legs back even further as he slammed into you with a force that was overwhelming.

"Mine… all fuckin’ mine, you hear?!"

His pace was grueling and you were surely at your limit, crystalline tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he fucked you. Your skin felt like it was on fire, a deep familiar knot in the pit of your stomach just threatening to break.

“I hear! Hear you, Toji!" you yelped, mouth hung open in a perpetual 'O' as you teetered over the edge, right at the cusp of your orgasm.

“I can't! Can’t take any more, please!"

Toji amused you with a crooked grin, using his rough fingers to circle your puffy clit, the extra stimulation giving you just what you needed. You came with a cry, electricity coursing through your veins as you moaned wantonly, gushing around him with a shudder.

The force of your orgasm sent Toji straight into his own, groaning loudly as he emptied himself inside you, filling you to the brim with thick spurts of cum.

He huffed, chest heaving as he kissed you messily, slotting his tongue into your mouth just before he pulled away to speak.

“You’re so good… but just for me, yea?"

He pressed his lips against yours again and the corners of your mouth turned up in a satisfied smile, loving when he got like this. Toji grew soft, cuddling up to you as he slipped out of your cunt, a runny mix of both his and your fluids dripping onto his lap.

“Only for me…”

©2023 KISHIBEI do not repost, modify, distrib. or translate.

[merthosus]

Blank minds

@selfishlittlebeing asked:

Hi! So basically I just read every single one shot on this blog. And I am obsessed with your work. And I gotta admit that, “Wounded nights” did things to me.🧍🏼‍♀️

I’m not sure if I am requesting or smth (if you’d like to write this I wouldn’t protest, but feel free to just ponder on this with me). But like… I can’t get the image of touch starved Five out of my head. Bcs…damn. Him holding the reader in his arms like that (WN)… but can you imagine HIM having a vulnerable moment because of all that stuff with the Commission and apocalypses, just the trauma package yk. And after all those years…just Five being vulnerable with someone and touch starved.🥲 I am making myself feel depressed with all this. Wanna be depressed with me?🎀

Summary: After Luthers wedding, most of the siblings already gone to bed. You didn't feel like drinking, but loved to watch the others drown their sorrows into liquor and just have fun. Just as you were about to fall into a deep sleep, a knock on your door pulls you out of your slumber.

Thank you for your lovely request! Also, here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?”

You're up to your nose under your eiderdown, with only the sound of collapsing buildings coming through your window. It may sound crazy to others, but for you, it's been part of everyday life for a week. Counting every second, spending the last time with your family and savoring it. There is nothing more precious than time. Money has no value anymore, but the ticking hands of the grandfather clock do have.

Your thoughts hover over your head like gray clouds. Since the first day you slept in that hotel bed, falling asleep felt like hell. You tried a lot to finally fall asleep normally again. But every time you closed your eyes, you were met with nightmares, worse than you could ever have imagined. You were sure that this couldn't be the end, it simply couldn't be.

Like every night, you try to push the thoughts aside, to repress them as if they had never been there. But a loud and uneven knocking jolts you out of your sleep like a thunderstorm. You startle awake and clutch at the sheets of your bed. “Yes!” you shout, but it sounded more like a question than an encouragement. You watch every movement, sharper than Diego's blades. As Five stumbles in, you let out a breath you didn't even released you were holding. 

“You scared me,” you mumble. "I scared you, so please, why should anyone be scared of me?" he says to himself. Any blind person would have recognized that Five had probably had a little too much to drink at Luther's wedding. Five doesn't finish the sentence and drops his head down as he continues to mumble to himself. After he fell back against the door, you gave him a worried look. “Thanks for closing the door, but I think you have a concussion now,” I smirk to myself. Five starts to giggle. “The world is coming to an end,” he says, and pushes away from the door again.

You look out of the window that separated you from the crumbling outside world. Instead of bright sunshine, dark red fire dazzles your eyes, bricks fly off buildings and trees uproot themselves. “No, really?” you ask him sarcastically as you turn back to him. You suppress your horror as he suddenly stands right in front of you. He holds on to the edge of your bed. You think about how he managed to approach you so quietly, the alcohol in his blood must be enough to put a chimpanzee down.

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?” he asks as he tries to climb onto the bed. “Five, eh?” you ask as you hold him down so he doesn't slide off. He awkwardly pushes himself over your legs, which elicits a small squeak from your mouth. “You're really rough, Five,” you complain, but you just couldn't help the smile on your face.

You had never seen Five so shameless. Five, who is usually so strong and independent, asks you if he can lie down with you for a moment. As you think about it for a moment, you briefly doubt your sanity. Was this a fever dream? But Five's careless hand movement presses your torso so hard into the mattress beneath you that you're sure it would have shaken you awake. “I've never seen you so awkward,” you squeeze your words out of the pain. “I'm sorry, but your bed is sooo soft,” he lulls to himself. You shake your head and stifle the comment that the beds here were all the same.

“Five, why are you really here?” you ask him. He lies down on his stomach and presses his head into your pillow. He mumbles his words into the fabric so that you can only guess what he's saying. “I don't understand a word, you stupid…” you grumble to yourself as you grab a tuft of his hair and push his head to the side. 

Five groans softly as you move his head, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused. You wait for him to speak, but it seems like he’s struggling to find the right words. He’s always been the one with the sharp tongue, the quick wit, and seeing him like this—vulnerable and slightly lost—pulls at something deep inside you.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” he finally mutters, his voice slurred but honest. “I’ve been alone for so long... and I guess I’m tired of it.” His words are a confession, raw and unguarded, much like the state he's in now. You’ve seen Five in many situations—fighting, strategizing, leading—but this is different. This is Five without his armor, without the walls he usually keeps so firmly in place.

You feel a pang in your chest, a mix of sadness and empathy. You’ve always known there was more to him than the ruthless time-traveling assassin he often portrayed himself to be. But hearing him admit his loneliness is something else entirely. "I understand you, Five," you say. He smiles and sightly closes his eyes. "I didn't want to be alone too, so I am happy that you are here now, I would've preferred sober Five, but this is also ok", you smile at him. 

You let your body fall back into your pillows, Five, who was still lying on his stomach, watching you. You put your head to one side and just look at him motionlessly. “Promise you won't tell anyone about the following?” he asks you. You don't understand exactly what he means. “I hardly think I have enough time left to tell anyone anything,” you say, with an unintentional sweep of sadness. “Promise” he whispers to you, while looking at you with begging eyes. Not only the pungent smell of alcohol, but also his seriousness to fly in your face. “I won't tell anyone,” you promise. Without warning, Five starts to move again. He pushed your arm up and curled up on your chest, like a cat looking for warmth.

Seeing five like this was new and made you very afraid to admit it to yourself. He cared so much about maintaining his strong, unbreakable personality that his current behavior frightened you. Despite the unfamiliar feeling of five so close to you, you almost automatically put your arms around his slender torso. His fingers slide onto the sides of your torso, clutching on it as if it was a matter of life or death.

"Five, what's wrong?", you ask him. "I am fucking scared", he lulls. His confession hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his vulnerability. You can feel your heart rate quicken, the tension in the room shifting as you process his words. It’s a rare glimpse into the inner workings of Five’s mind, and the openness is both unsettling and intimate.

“Scared of what exactly?” you ask gently. “Everything,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. “The end of it all… the not knowing". The tremor in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but tighten your hold on him. You want to reassure him, to tell him that everything will be okay, but the truth is you’re scared too. The world outside is crumbling, and the future feels uncertain for both of you. 

He shifts slightly, looking up at you with his tired eyes. “I don’t want to let anyone down. Not you, not the others. I’ve messed up so many times already.” His voice is tinged with a mix of regret and fear, and you can see the conflict waging within him. “If we lose, at least we'll lose together,” you say. It didn't really sound encouraging, but you couldn't think of anything better. “Do you think you'll regret this tomorrow?” you whisper without looking at him. 

Five’s grip on your chest tightens just a little, and you can feel the slight shivering in his body as he processes your words. The silence that follows feels heavy, filled with the weight of the world outside and the vulnerability between you. “No,” he finally murmurs, his voice soft but resolute. “I won’t regret this. I might not remember every detail of tonight, but I’ll remember the way it felt to finally....", you wait for him to end his sentence. 

"feel you", he says, so quietly that you almost missed it.. There is a silence in the room, your body is no longer able to move. Your brain needs some time to process his words. “I went too far, I'm sorry I…” he tries to apologize. He pushes away from your body and leans on his arms. But before he can finish his sentence and move away from you completely, you put your hands around his face and crash your lips into his. 

The moment your lips meet Five’s, time seems to suspend itself. The world outside, with its crumbling chaos, fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate bubble. His initial shock quickly melts away, and he responds with a tentative but heartfelt kiss. His lips are soft and warm, and the urgency in his movements gradually transforms into something more tender and searching.

As you pull away slightly, you can see the surprise in his eyes, mingled with a hint of relief and something deeper that he might not fully understand himself. You’re both breathing heavily, the gravity of the moment settling in. “I didn’t want to...,” Five starts to say, but you place a finger gently over his lips, silencing him. “Don’t,” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

“You don’t have to apologize. Not now. Not ever.” Five’s expression softens, and he looks at you with a mixture of awe and vulnerability. “I’ve been so caught up in trying to control everything, in fighting against the end, that I forgot about what really matters. I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize how much I needed this, how much I needed you.”

Feel free to tell me in the comments, what you think :)

[nordschleifes]

while you're busy making other plans

➝ your secret with fernando is leaked to the world. and you deal with it in the most chaotic way possible

➝ word count: 4,4k

➝ warnings: coparenting, lies, press, andrea being a little shit and fernando dealing poorly with press

➝ author's note: part two of this one shot. hope you enjoy it.

The notification that appeared on your phone screen.

It displayed a thumbnail image of you standing with Fernando in the Aston Martin garage, while he ran his hand through Leon's hair. You had been talking about that day’s sessions, with your son detailing how impressed he had been with the mechanics' work in getting his car ready for each stage of qualifying.

However, the caption of the photo turned your stomach. “They know about Leon”, the message said.

That was what you feared most since the day your son was born. You had read enough articles on the pages of Spanish magazines to know that you didn't want that life for him. But, at the same time, you knew that all that effort would go down the drain one day, especially when Leon began to understand the real intention of the excuses and compromises you made up to prevent his identity from being revealed.

You just didn't expect this day to come so quickly.

The knock on the door made you wake up from your thoughts, jumping out of bed towards the entrance of the suite. When your eyes met Fernando's, you felt your throat tighten.

— Y/N — he murmured.

— Come in — you managed to say, opening the door.

The driver passed you silently, head down. You didn't need anything else to know that he had already seen the photos and that he wasn't happy with them.

— What now? — you asked softly, as he sat down on the bed.

— I don't know, Y/N — Fernando replied, running a hand through his hair — Where is...

— With Alberto, I asked him to take Leon to his room so we could talk.

The driver let out a sigh as you sat down next to him.

— I have no idea how that happened — he muttered.

— Well, it has always been a possibility, and you know it.

Fernando looked at you with a serious expression.

— The thing is, nobody knew who you were. Alberto was careful to request the credentials in the team's name and not mine, we arrived separately — he pointed out — Did Leon say anything to anyone?

— No, no — you replied, shaking your head — He stayed with me or Alberto the whole time, he didn't say anything much.

Silence took over the room for a few seconds.

— This was leaked — Fernando finally said — Someone leaked it to the press...

— Do you think Luis…

— No, not him. It wasn't anyone around me, I'm sure. Everyone knows that Leon's privacy is the most important thing to me. They wouldn't do that to me, Y/N...

— What guarantees you that they wouldn't do it for money or...

— Y/N, no one close to me would do that — the driver interrupted you, a note of irritation in his voice — Everyone knows that Leon is the most important person in my life and that he is my priority. They wouldn't be able to, I know that.

You had no way of opposing him in that sense. Everyone who knew Leon's real identity were people connected to Fernando for almost 20 years and who knew him well enough to know how careful he was with his son. However, your mind went to the people who were no longer around Fernando, and the realization hit you like a train.

— Andrea — you murmured, before looking at him — It could only have been her.

The driver pressed his lips into a thin line.

— Are you sure?

— She's the only one who could have leaked this.

— Y/N, we can't get ahead of ourselves.

— She knows we're here on the circuit, she saw when I arrived with Leon — you argued, despair rising in your chest.

— That doesn't mean she did it, Y/N — he countered. This made you jump to your feet, feeling a wave of anger rising up your neck.

— How so? She is the only one who is no longer in your inner circle who knows Leon and has contact with the press.

— Andrea wouldn't use Leon against me, Y/N, she knows he's the most important person in my life — Fernando replied, making you bring your hand to his face in disbelief. You couldn't believe he couldn't see what was clear in front of him.

— And that's precisely why she would do that! — you yelled — She wants to hit you where it hurts, Fernando! She wants you to be sad too, to suffer! Don't you understand that?!

Fernando remained silent, looking at you with a grim expression on his face.

— Now, our son's face is everywhere because your ex-girlfriend can't accept that you don't want anything to do with her! — You continued, anger dripping from his words.

— Y/N…

— What?!

— She was the one who broke up with me.

The revelation hit you like a punch in the stomach. If Andrea was the one who had broken up with Fernando, supposed revenge on her part wouldn't make any sense. If she didn't want to be with him, there would be no reason to reveal Leon's identity to the press.

You were back to square one.

— Do you want to know why? — he asked softly, as you sat down next to him again.

— Did she give a reason?

— She said that I had well-defined priorities and that she wasn't one of them.

— Priorities?

— The work, Leon — Fernando hesitated for a few seconds — You.

You felt a churning sensation in your stomach.

— Me? What do I have to do with it?

The driver sighed heavily.

— I always made it clear from the beginning that you and Leon were an essential part of my life — he explained — Andrea accepted it well, but when she realized that I wouldn't give up living with you two, that I wanted to have you around, I think something changed in her mind.

— So she left you and decided to get revenge on top of that? — you questioned.

— It doesn't matter now, Y/N. What matters is that everyone knows about Leon and that we need to do something.

You clenched your jaw, deep in thought. It didn't matter who leaked the story, but rather what you would do to protect Leon from the approaching media storm.

— You can say you don’t know us…

— It’s not possible, there are photos of us on other occasions, with my parents, with Alberto…

— You can say he's Alberto's — you murmured, looking at your hands — We can pretend we're a couple, I believe he won't mind that, especially in these circumstances...

— No, definitely not — Fernando said, his voice firm — You will not compromise because of an error in judgment I made.

— So, you're just going to deny everything?

— Do I have another choice, Y/N?

— They won't buy this story...

— It's my word against that of an anonymous source, Y/N — the driver interrupted you — I can say that you are a friend of mine and that I have great affection for you and your family. That's simple.

You were thinking about the countless questions that could arise from that answer when the door to the suite opened.

— Papá! — Leon exclaimed, turning around the bed to go to Fernando and hug him.

— Hola, mijo — he said, forcing a smile on the boy — How are you?

— Good — the boy replied, as he sat on his lap — I was playing Mario Kart with Galle.

When you looked back, you found Fernando's manager and friend with a small smile on his face as he watched Leon with his father. However, as soon as his eyes met your, you could see the worry that permeated them.

— I bet you beat him, didn't you? — the driver asked.

— Yes, I won — Leon said, smiling — Galle slipped a lot on the banana peels!

— If someone hadn't thrown the peels at me, I would have arrived first — he countered, making the boy laugh — I'm going to have my revenge, there's no point in laughing, okay?

— I want to see that, huh? — Fernando said, while his son continued to provoke Alberto, talking about how he couldn't stop bumping at his opponents.

However, the relaxed air of the conversation was haunted by the dark cloud of reality. The looks you exchanged with the two men contained silent messages, requests for normality to be maintained, for everything to remain the same, for Leon's sake. And considering the subtle nods and goodnight hugs they gave the boy, you were sure that the three of you were completely committed to this mission.

The next day featured all the chaos that kept you awake for most of the night. With a cap firmly placed on Leon's head and the instruction to keep his head down, you entered the paddock holding his hand firmly. The questions mixed with the sound of camera clicks, focused on the reactions of the two of you.

— Leon, Leon, here! — one shouted.

— Where did you meet Fernando, Y/N? — another asked.

— Y/N, can you answer a question for us? — a third asked, as you climbed the stairs of the Aston Martin motorhome without saying a word. However, your expectation of going unnoticed there was shattered when you noticed the curious looks of the employees and guests who were there, the whispers multiplying.

You were still frozen in the same spot when you felt someone pull your hand.

— Mamá, can we go upstairs? — Leon asked softly, a shy expression on his face — I want to see papá.

— Yes, my love, let's go.

Trying to ignore the way you were being observed, you headed up the stairs towards Fernando's room, praying that there was no one else in the hallways of the motorhome. When you opened the door, however, you found Fernando accompanied by Alberto and Fabri, the three of them talking about something that was on Alberto's cell phone screen. Upon noticing their serious expressions, you made to close the door, but Leon reacted faster than you.

— Papá! — the boy exclaimed, entering the room without any ceremony, running into his father's arms — Happy birthday!

Fernando greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, seeming not to mind the interruption. Closing the door, you could feel the tension building up in your neck, making your movements somewhat painful. However, this was not the time to let that show, not when Leon was so happy.

— Thank you so much, my love. You don't know how happy having you here makes me.

— Mamá and I have a gift for you! — he said, looking at you with an expectation that made you give a small smile.

— A gift? — the driver followed his son's gaze, seeming interested — You know you don't need to give me anything, right?

— Leon insisted — you replied, as you opened your bag and took out a small box decorated with a fancy gold ribbon bow from inside. Then, taking a step forward, you handed it to Fernando — Happy birthday.

After a few seconds of hesitation, he picked up the box and examined it from the outside, the gold Richard Mille logo catching his attention. Giving his son a smile, the pilot undid the bow and opened the box, his eyes widening when he saw what was there.

— That…

— It's a new watch! — Leon exclaimed — Mamá and I made it for you!

Fernando looked at the gift with surprise, seeming not to believe what he had in his hands.

— You made this? — he asked, as he took the accessory out of the box to look at it.

— Yes! — the son responded immediately — Tell him, mamá!

— Richard said that you talked about samurai culture and that you were thinking about creating a model inspired by that a few years ago — you explained — At the end of last year, he called me to continue the project and this is the first functional prototype, what we call 000.

— I chose the colors! — Leon added, making you smile.

After a few seconds contemplating the details of the watch, Fernando hugged Leon and kissed the boy on the cheek again, murmuring something in Spanish to him. Then it was your turn to get a tight hug from him.

— Thank you for that.

— You know it's the least we can do for you, considering everything you've already done for us.

— It was my obligation, Y/N…

— And this is my way — you stopped, while Leon leaned against one of his father's legs, carefully observing the conversation between the two of you — Our way of showing how much we appreciate you for this.

The driver's smile was wide, framed by the same dimples that Leon had in his cheeks and that, seven years ago, had made your heart beat faster. However, you didn't have time to savor the feeling that took over your chest before he said that he needed to get ready for the meeting with the engineers before qualifying for the Sprint race.

With a new hug from Leon and a promise that you would see each other later, you left Fernando's room and went to the area reserved for team guests, where Melina welcomed the two of you with a wide smile. After suggesting the boy a plate of waffles and promising you that there would be no chocolate sauce like the day before, you stayed there, observing the hospitality and paddock movement, waiting for the time of the activities on the track.

Unfortunately, it had not been Fernando's day. After a difficult and rain-delayed qualifying, the Sprint was even more frustrating. Sitting in front of the television, you shook your foot insistently while Leon was standing, biting his nails even after you told him not to.

Then, exactly what you had been afraid of played out in front of you.

— Alonso! Fernando Alonso! — the narrator exclaimed, making your son's eyes widen — Off the track, on the gravel and outside the Sprint, bringing the Safety Car back to the track here in Spa-Francorchamps.

Repeating the image brought you a bit of relief, as the driver had not, in fact, hit the barrier, but had simply spinned onto the wet track and headed towards the escape zone. However, this didn't make Leon calmer, on the contrary.

— Mamá — he asked softly — Is papá okay?

Looking back at the screen in front of you, the image of Fernando walking alongside the marshalls made you give Leon a smile.

— Yes, he's fine, my love.

— Will he be able to have dinner with us today? — he asked, his voice full of hope.

— Yes, I'm sure. Now, let's continue watching the race and then go down to get a snack, what do you think?

With a vigorous nod, Leon sat down next to you, eyes focused on the action unfolding on the track. He celebrated the fight between Sergio Perez and Lewis Hamilton, as well as the overtaking of Carlos Sainz, saying he was good “like papá”. After the checkered flag and the podium ceremony, you invited your son to come with you downstairs.

Upon arriving at the common room of the hospitality, which was slightly empty, you were talking to one of the employees when you felt Leon pull your hand, trying to get your attention.

— Mamá, look over there — he said softly, pointing to one of the screens. In it, Fernando was in front of the microphone, a serious expression on his face. Giving him a small smile, you turned your attention to the employee, who had questioned you about Leon's juice.

After confirming the order and having your pass scanned, you looked again at your son, who was still staring at the television with a serious expression, as if he was paying attention to what Fernando was saying in Spanish. However, you only discovered what had happened later, when you were back at the hotel.

— Now, you go to the shower and I'll sort your clothes so we can go to dinner with your papá — you said, as you dropped your cell phone on the bed. However, when you turned around, you noticed that Leon was hesitant, his eyes on his hands — Is there a problem?

— Mamá, is papá my real papá?

You blinked, a little shocked by that question.

— Why are you asking?

— They asked papá if he had a son on television — the boy said, his voice full of sadness — And he said no.

Guilt made your heart feel heavy in your chest. You definitely didn't expect Leon to see any of Fernando’s interviews, especially one in which he had been mentioned. Pursing your lips, you tried to reorganize your thoughts, looking for the best answer for him, one that said what he needed to know at that moment and that's all.

However, you didn't even say a word.

— Is it true, mamá?

— My love, please — you murmured, sitting on the bed with wobbly legs, your heart racing inside your chest.

— Papá isn’t my papá? — he continued asking, his brown eyes filled with something you had never seen in him before.

Anger.

— Leon, you don’t know what you’re talking about…

— I do! — the boy exclaimed — I saw papá saying that he didn't have any children, that that was nonsense. He doesn't have a son, I'm not his son!

— Can you hear me, Leon? — your voice rising.

— No! — he shouted — You lied to me! Everyone lied to me!

— It's not like that, let me explain — you tried to say, while the boy walked with heavy steps to the bathroom.

— Lies, all lies! — Leon shouted, before entering the bathroom and closing the door violently.

Something about that scene reminded you of your own adolescence. You felt like you were watching yourself argue heatedly with your parents and, in an attempt to escape that, you hid inside your room, but not before slamming the door hard, taking out all your anger on her.

However, Leon was not a teenager, but just a boy.

He was your little boy.

You didn't even notice when the first tear ran down his face, bitter and completely lost. At that moment, with Leon thinking that his life had been a real lie, you had no idea what to do. Forcibly entering the bathroom to try to explain things felt wrong, as did shouting the truth at the wood.

Then, a knock on the door made something light up in his mind.

Running to the door, you clumsily opened it, praying that it was whoever you needed that was there by your side.

— Good evening — Fernando greeted you, his smile dying when he saw your red eyes and wet cheeks — What happened, Y/N?

— It's Leon — you stammered, your eyes filling with tears.

He walked past you with heavy steps, his expression serious.

— Where is he? What happened to my son?

You looked at him sadly.

— Leon thinks you’re not his father — you just said, your voice breaking.

The driver looked shocked by that, as if he couldn't believe what you had said.

— What?

— He saw the interview after the Sprint and came to this conclusion. I don't know how or why, but he's convinced we lied to him.

Fernando passed a hand over his face, dismayed.

— I didn’t say anything much…

— It was enough for him — you replied harshly, even by your standards. However, he didn't seem to mind, going to the bathroom door and knocking gently.

— Mijo? It's papá, please open.

— No! — Leon shouted.

— Please, my love, let papá explain to you…

— I don't want to hear you!

He let out a heavy sigh, resting his forehead against the wood.

His son didn't want to talk to him, or anyone.

Asking you to inform him of any developments, you watched Fernando exit the suite you were sharing with Leon in silence, his shoulders slumped as if he was carrying something extremely heavy on his back. Probably guilt for having said what shouldn't have been said, even though the intention was the best possible.

The silence after the bedroom door closed seemed to last for ages. Lying in bed, you stared at the ceiling in silence. The tears had already stopped flowing some time ago when you heard the bathroom handle turn and the door open, revealing Leon. Sitting down on the mattress, you saw that the boy's eyes were red and his nose was still running, which indicated that he had been crying.

Silently, he sat near your legs, head down.

— Leon — you murmured, hesitantly.

— I want to leave — the boy said, his voice surprisingly firm.

— But, we have the race tomorrow, papá said...

— I don't want to watch the race anymore — Leon interrupted you, looking at you — I want to go home, mamá.

The news that his son wanted to leave Spa as soon as possible, without even watching the race, hit Fernando like a bombshell. He even asked you to try to convince him to stay until morning, so the two of you could talk better, but Leon was impassive.

And, as the lights came on on the track, the two of you were already in the air, heading home in absolute silence.

The following months followed in the same way. As much as you and Fernando hoped that Leon would give in and talk to his father, he remained impassive. During the summer break, there were many times that the driver went to your house to see him, without any success. The answer was always the same.

— He's not my father.

The only person he still allowed himself to see was Alberto, who was trying to break the barriers imposed by the boy. However, after an afternoon of walking with him, Galle looked at you with a worried expression, a strong contrast to the smile with which he had said goodbye to his godson.

— Did something happen? Is it about Fernando?

— Yeah — he said, passing a hand over his face — I didn't say anything, just to make it clear, it was Leon who asked about Fer and...

— What he said?

— He asked how Fer was doing, with those words. I replied that he was fine, but very sad that he wasn't talking to him, that he was missing him.

— Did Leon say anything about that?

— Just that he doesn't understand the fact that he's missing him because he's nothing to Fernando, he has no reason to care about that — Alberto replied, punctuating with a heavy sigh — Look, Y/N, I really don't know if I don't It's time to sit down with him and explain this misunderstanding...

— You think I didn't try? — you returned, crossing your arms.

— I imagine there is, but maybe you call Fer and the three of you sit down and talk seriously...

— Leon doesn’t want to talk…

— He can't just ignore his own father forever, Y/N — Alberto interrupted you, gesturing with one of his hands — You'll have to come up with some idea to help him, otherwise, Fer will go crazy.

You spent the next few days with that in your head, your mind searching for the best way to show Leon that Fernando was his father and that, above all, he loved him. Among his ideas was the possibility of asking the driver's parents to intervene or simply taking him to a psychologist and letting her lead the conversation.

Until an idea came to your mind.

The easy part was convincing Fernando to do that. Of course, it wasn't simple, considering all the implications it would have on your lives, especially when it came to your privacy. However, the idea of ​​being rejected for the rest of his life by his son made the driver give in.

The real challenge was convincing Leon to sit next to you to watch the television, which was already tuned to the channel he would appear on. The boy resisted bravely, stating that he didn't want to see Fernando and that he didn't like Formula 1 anymore. However, somehow, the image of his father on television made him stop, his eyes attentive.

— We're here with Fernando Alonso, Aston Martin driver, how are you?

— Everything's great — he replied with a smile.

— McLaren will be a challenge for you here in Abu Dhabi, right?

— Yes, totally. In the last two races, we gained more points than them, but we need a small miracle to overcome them — the driver explained — We are separated by 11 points, but we will try. Our main motivation is the constructors' championship.

— Now, with this season over, what are your plans?

— Well, the main thing is to rest, especially after so many trips. After the race, I go home to spend some time with Leon.

The mention to his son made the reporter's eyes widen.

— Leon, you mean…

— My son, yes. I did my best to avoid speculation and protect his and his mother's privacy, but it doesn't do much good right now and, if I can be honest, I was tired of not being able to tell him how amazing he is and how much I love him.

— I assume he likes speed — the man asked, still looking disconcerted.

— He loves it, understands everything and can’t wait to start driving. But he also loves drawing and plays football very well, so we'll have a lot to do during this vacation.

After he greeted the reporter one last time and left the camera, you looked at Leon, who was staring at the television in silence.

— Are you fine, my love? — you asked.

— Papá talked about me — he stammered, looking at you.

— Yes, he did, did you see?

— He said he loves me…

— Papá always loved you, Leon. From the beginning, when you were still in mamá's belly. He loves you very much and nothing will change that.

The boy smiled at you for the first time in a long time.

— Can we call him, mamá?

— Do you want to talk to papá?

— Yes, I do.

You felt tears as you searched for Fernando's contact details on your cell phone. Tapping the video call icon, the driver's image appeared almost immediately on your screen, his expression indicating the anxiety he felt.

— So, Y/N, did it work? — he asked.

Turning the phone to Leon, the boy's smile grew even wider.

— Hi, papá…

— Hi, mijo — you heard Fernando ask with a choked voice — Did you see papá on television?

— I did.

— Did you see I talked about you? — he questioned, with Leon nodding positively in response — Do you understand now that papá loves you?

A few seconds of silence followed, tension building in your shoulders.

Then, another positive wave from the boy made you smile, tears streaming down your face.

— I love you so much, mijo. You are the most precious thing I have in my life and I would never do anything if it wasn't for your happiness and your safety.

— I love you too, papá.

[kaeyas-beloved]

It’s The Way He… || #2

Characters: Alhaitham, Cyno, Dainsleif, Heizou, Itto, Kaveh, Xiao, Wanderer

Summary: Just cute/heartwarming/breath-taking things he does <3

Genre: Fluff + Snippets

CWs: gn!reader (you/your), injuries (Cyno), petnames (my love; Kaveh),

a/n: did a pt. 2 because the last one got lots of love and I though they were really cute so I wanted to do some others <3

|| Pt. 1 ||

Alhaitham

It’s the way Alhaitham props his chin on you - your head, shoulder, just whatever is easiest at that moment - as you read. His eyes, a beautiful mix of green and orange, will skim the page you're on. It's no quantum physics or retelling of historic events, but if you like it then he'll give it a chance. Just, don't be too upset when he asks you to read faster, he wants to know what happens next is all.

"Are you almost done? I've finished the page. What? What's that look for?"

Cyno

It’s the way Cyno is so serious as he dresses your wounds, a stark contrast to the genlteness of his touch. It doesn’t matter if it’s a paper cut, a rash, burn or a gash from battle, it’ll receive the same level of attention and care from the general. If he had it his way he’d get Tighnari to fix you right up, because at least Cyno knows you’re in good hands, but that can’t always happen, so he’s your next best. In a way that’s alright, at least this way he can personally see to it that you’re looked after.

“This will sting a little, sorry, but it has to be cleaned. I’ll try to lessen the pain as much as I can and finish quickly. If you’d like, I can tell you some jokes to take your mind off of it?”

Dainsleif

It’s the way Dainsleif never forgets the little details about yourself. You could mention it once and he’s already committed it to memory, he's committed you to his memory. For 500 years he's walked alone, maybe not always physically, but it still felt like there hasn't been anyone with him. You are the first connection he's had in so long, and even if he's doomed to live long past you, the image of everything that creates you, he’ll will himself to remember for as long as he can, because just the thought of you makes him feel like he's alive once more.

“You told me once that the stars brought you peace. I thought it’d be nice to look out at them tonight, for they too do the same for me. However, if I was to be truthful, you, without a shadow of a doubt, bring me the most peace.”

Heizou

It’s the way Heizou leaves a riddle on the kitchen counter for you every so often before he leaves for work or errands. There’ll be clues scattered around the house for you to find as well, each one becoming more cryptic than the last. Of course, he knows you well enough to not make them so tough you can’t figure it out. He wants you to receive your prize after all~

“Did you figure out today’s riddle?” … “Heh, that’s correct, I knew you’d get it! Now, come and claim your reward. I think you’ll really enjoy it this time~”

Itto

It’s the way Itto runs up to you the instant he sees you in the streets of Inazuma, arms ready to grab hold and lift you as high as he can or as high as you allow. He'll even do a little spin with you he's that happy to see you. It doesn't matter if you’re alone or with someone, he is a loud and proud oni who shows off the person that owns his heart!!

"There you are my partner-in-crime, my beetle battle buddy, my number one! Say, if you're not busy how about you tag along with me? I just found this awesome raman place that's pretty cool if I do say so myself. How about we check it out?"

Kaveh

It’s the way Kaveh readily helps you with your outfit and any bells and whistles that go with it. As a renowned architect there are times where he’s invited to formal events, and you are his first go to for a plus one. And where there’s formal events there’s formal attire, and the hassle of making sure everything is perfect. Be it a tie or some piece of jewelry, Kaveh and his keen eye for detail are there to help attain that perfection.

“Ah, here, let me help. Sometimes, it takes another pair of eyes to catch if something’s off. Of course, you look stunning regardless my love. There, shall we head off?”

Wanderer

It’s the way Wanderer stumbles to match your pace. For as long as he's lived he's moved at his own pace, never once slowing or playing catch-up for others. For you though, he'll stop to admire the things he's overlooked due to his immortality, he'll race to make sure you don't run too far from him that he can't raech you. No longer does he run away from those he loves, now he runs alongside them.

"What? You stopped for a flower? It's pretty? Please, I can think of many more things that are prettier than some flower, but I suppose we have some time. Who am I to stop you from doing what your little heart desires."

Xiao

It’s the way Xiao carries with him the little gifts you give. May it be a flower, a picture, a letter or another object of some kind, the yaksha will have it tucked into the safest pocket he has. To you it may have just been something you picked up or made while thinking of him, but for Xiao, it’s his good fortune charm. Something that has a tangible weight to it, his constant reminder that someone is waiting for him back home. However, he can never bring himself to tell you this, covering up the why he brings it everywhere with some barely strung together excuses or redirections.

“Of course I’d take it with me, why would I not? Huh? You think I’d have no real use for it? Tsk, you still don’t know the ways of the adepti, do you?”

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kaerui-kaisen // @ajaxstar // @genshin-impact-writings // @stage-lucida // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @lemontum // @akiria12167 // @ari-the-wr1ter // @dontmindmebeing // @xiaos-wife // @irethepotato

. . .

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[cryptidghostgirl]

Lovely (Lucifer x Reader)

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Description: Lucifer had heard rumor of the demon with the ability to alter people's memories. Y/n was a marvel and he had her wrapped right around his pinky.

Warnings: Same angst, new target.

Word Count: 1,631

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N This fic is inspired by Spud Cannon's song Lovely. Also don't mind me and my silly little Latin obsessed brain (Lucifer translates to light bringer and is a combination of the latin verb ferre, to bring, and lux, light. I fuck around with that in this.)

That was what had drawn her to him first: the elegance. Lucifer was a graceful man, a beautiful man, a terribly sad person. In retrospect, that should have been Y/n's sign to take a step back but, it is always so difficult to find the right path in the moment. He had seemed so utterly heartbroken, because, as she now knew, he was so utterly heartbroken, and Y/n had thought: maybe I can help?

Her motivations had just been that at first, helping. It wasn't her fault that he was charming and funny and did things that made her want to be more than friends with him with such alarming regularity that it felt like her life was the worst rollercoaster at an amusement park. The one with eight billion sharp turns and uncomfortable seats that left rider's tailbones bruised. It was almost too much to bear.

Lucifer had heard rumors of the demon who had been gifted with the ability to alter people's memories. It had never been gossip that had interested him much until Lilith had left. Suddenly, his mind had felt like a curse. In the throws of despair, he had looked for her, hunted her down. It hadn't take long, he was Lucifer after all. When he was the one asking the questions, few dared to defy.

The shop was a hole in the wall, drenched in the smell of incense and covered in crystals and other odd objects of curiosity. Lucifer could've sworn he recognized the imp horns on the wall but, ignored it. He was there for a reason and asking questions like that were not the path to his end goal.

The demon herself, the famed mystery, was statuesque. She had sat her table in the back of the shop, draped in jewelry made of bones and gold. She had gifted him the first session free of charge.

In order to keep the pain at bay, Lucifer had been required to come to her shop at least once a month. Y/n was a comfort to him, he associated her with the feeling of relief. The two became fast friends.

"Light bringer." she would beckon him in with a smile, "Still counting those forget-me-nots?"

She spoke to him in Latin, in his first eternal language. She weaved images in the air with the smoke from her fires. She was amazing, a miracle worker. Lucifer was grateful for her, for her skill.

Y/n knew the truth behind it. She tried to ignore it, tried to still her raging heart. She knew it was doomed, had seen with her own eyes the way he was still so in love with someone else. Still, when he had asked her on that first date, a year into them knowing one another, she hadn't been able to bring herself to refuse. He had been so sweet, so earnest, so cheesy. He had asked her to be his and she had told him the truth: she already was.

It was a constant state of denial, one big, overwhelming lie she convinced herself was true. In the beginning, Lucifer had been a doting partner. He surprised her with flowers, he always tried to make her smile. It had all stopped the day she had told him she couldn't use her gift on him anymore.

"Why not?" he has asked, alarmed.

"Because, Ferende Lucem (man bringing light), it's not healthy. I can't make things go away forever, just hide them. You still need to deal with them eventually."

Y/n had thought it was time, had figured that two years of dating and three years of knowing one another would be enough. She had been wrong. Lucifer had ceased in his affections in all but name. No longer was she whisked away to the palace, no longer did she wake to one of his creations on her bedside table.

After about a month, she had decided to take things into her own hands. She refused to recede into the gaps he was creating, refused to just let this all go. Y/n loved him, truly. She wouldn't let the love die without a fight.

The palace guards knew her well, had let her in without question. After some searching, Y/n had found Lucifer locked away in his office. The place smelled of despair. He didn't turn from his empty desk at the sound of the door opening.

"Light Bringer." Y/n hummed softly, rapping a knuckle on the already open door, "Counting your forget-me-not's?"

She hadn't asked him that in years, not since before they had gotten together. He lifted his head from his hands, looking over his shoulder just the slightest bit.

"Malefica (witch)." he replied, his voice low and hollow.

Y/n smiled softly at the pet name and entered the room, letting the door stand open in her wake. She approached him, wrapping her arms around his tired shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"Please." Lucifer's voice cracked, "Please take them from me. It's too much, they're too heavy."

Y/n didn't reply, simply nestling her chin into his hair.

"Y/n, please."

"You know I can't do that." she sighed, "It's not healthy."

"This is what is not healthy."

Y/n let go of him and turned his chair so they faced one another. She kneeled down on the ground before him, clasping his hands in her own. His eyes were ringed with red. In that moment, they weren't a fallen angel and a demon, they were just two people. Two people in love and two people housing broken hearts they lied to themselves to stitch back together.

"Lucifer." her eyes searched his face.

It was rare she called him by his true name. The gravity of the moment clung to their skin.

"Lucifer, what am I to you?"

He looked away. Y/n sighed, her heart cracking straight down the middle within the confines of her chest.

"Can I..." she cleared her throat, steeling her nerves, "Am I ever going to be what you're looking for?"

Lucifer's eyes snapped back to Y/n.

"You are what I'm looking for." he insisted, taking his trembling hands from hers and cupping them gently around her face, "You, Y/n, are my sweet little magician, my salve."

"My magic is, you mean."

Lucifer had always been a terrible liar. It was one of the things Y/n loved about him, the way the truth bubbled to the surface of his being. Right now, she wished he could be the best liar on the planet, the best in all of Hell. Right now, she wished she could've been born blind.

Y/n got to her feet, Lucifer's hands hanging in the air where they had held her last. There was no more running, no more hiding from the truth. This was the precipice, the breaking point, the fall.

"You're my salve." he repeated again, his voice soft and sounding like he was trying to convince himself of the fact as much as he was trying to get through to her.

"Don't lie to me." Y/n demanded, tears pressing behind her eyes, "Don't. Just... just don't."

Oh how she wished she could turn back time, set the clocks to zero.

"You never loved me, did you?"

The question hung unanswered in the air. Y/n had known it for a long time, had known it since the beginning to be perfectly honest but saying it out loud made it all the more real. She was dazed, spinning, out of control.

"You don't love me."

"I wish I could. I'm..."

Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and holding back tears. She looked away.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll see myself out, I guess."

She hoped he'd call out for her, run after her into the hallway, ask if they could try again could start over. Of course Lucifer did no such thing.

For all the things she had helped her clients forget over the years, Y/n understood them even more now than she ever had before. It was complicated. Now she was going to have to reshape her life. If she ever saw him in the street, it would be her duty to pretend she didn't know him. The memories spawned the terror of potential futures, dreams where things worked out, where everything was okay. They sent her mind reeling.

She had known, all along she had feared the worst and feared confirmation of her knowledge. That was the worst part, it hadn't even been a surprise. It had simply been just that, a confirmation of the truth.

The world caved in around her as she walked home, houses and shops and people all blurring together into something undistinguished and undefinable.

Lovely, that's what he was. In all his misfortune, in all his despair, in all his grace. Lovely but oh god, oh god he didn't love her. Not the way she wanted him to. Not the way she loved him.

Y/n pulled the curtains shut to her little shop, moving methodically and without thought. She sat down at the table in the back, before the pot of incense. She lit it.

Not once in all her years had she ever tried to do use her magic on herself. It seemed like a line in the sand, something utterly forbidden. Y/n shut her eyes.

When she reopened them, the world felt different. Time had passed, she could tell it had but her mind refused to give shape to the years.

"So this is what it must feel like." she mumbled aloud, noticing the remnants of her ritual spread out on the table before her, "I wonder what happened."

[writersmess]

DEATH WISH LOVE | EVAN BUCKLEY

gif credit

Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: Buck never thought he could love someone like that. Especially not someone with the same death wish love as him.

Warning: Anxiety crisis, near-death experience, hospital, crying, ansgt.

Word count: 2.5K

a/n: My God, I can't believe it's taken me over a year to get back. I missed this place so much. It's been an intense, crazy year. I finally got my dream job at the best hospital in Latin America. I'm so happy, but at the same time it's demanded everything of me, working long shifts almost every day, but its the price I have to pay. I hope you like this one, it was based on the song Death Wish Love by Benson Boone, which as soon as I heard it I immediately imagined something with our dear Buck. I confess I thought I'd do something angsty, but I don't think I have that capacity, he already suffers so much that I just wanted him to have a happy ending this time.

Masterlist

................................

You were the new firefighter in 118, and also new to the city. In order to follow your dreams, you left your hometown with everyone and everything you knew. You craved for bigger things, you wanted the big city, you wanted Los Angeles.

The team welcomed you with open arms, which was unusual to you. You weren’t used to this or neither known by your affectionate gestures, but apparently everything was an excuse for a hug at the station. It was a bit hard to get used to all this affection, especially when you came from a place where you were always by yourself.

That was one of the main reasons you became a firefighter, you have walked through fire every single day of your life, why not make it your profession?

You were a source of curiosity between the team, always so quiet and so resistant to everyone's affection. It was hard to win you over. Especially because you had a rather difficult personality, you were fearless at work, you weren't afraid to go into the fire to save lives, you did it without thinking twice.

To Bobby you were a cause for concern, and sometimes the reason why he was having trouble sleeping. He knew this personality very well. It was the same one he had struggled for years to learn to deal with, the one he had to fight with so many times, he was very familiar with this death wish love, it was the same as Buck’s.

The blue-eyed man on the other side, couldn't understand why he couldn't take his eyes off you. Ever since you arrived a few months ago, your image has been running through Buck’s mind. You've become a challenge for him. But not in a bad way, he wanted to get to know you, he wanted to understand you. But you didn't make things any easier for him, especially when today was the first time he'd seen you laugh.

"You're drooling" he snapped back to reality when he heard Eddie mocking next to him.

"Shut up" Buck said, turning his gaze back to you playing with his niece.

You had a beauty he couldn't explain, an angelic one. You had this steely gaze and looking at you felt like suicide. He would fall to his knees if you asked him to. How could someone so delicate also be so dangerous?

The way you were reluctant to follow Bobby's orders, you'd walk into the fire without a second thought. You would take risks without thinking about your own safety, just thinking about everyone else. He saw how hard you worked, he saw how mad Bobby got when he ordered the building to be evacuated and you were always the last one to leave. You were intriguing and he was fascinated.

It was so strange for you. Being in Maddie's living room, with everyone gathered together like a big family, laughing and telling funny stories. The team met once a week, with all the families together, the children running around the living room, the smell of food in the air, the voices, the laughter.

You accepted the invitation after a few months of refusing, and now you spent the week looking forward to the moment when you would be together again.

Sometimes when you got home from a meeting, you cried. You cried because you never had that, you never had anyone who cared about you. You were an unexpected pregnancy, your parents didn't planned you, they didn't want you and that was never a secret to anyone.

And that's why you were surprised when one day you arrived early at the station and Hen had a cake for you that you had once said reminded of what your grandmother used to bake.

Or when another one Eddie handed you a drawing that Chris made specifically for you. Of the two of you playing together.

Or when Maddie sent you, through Chim, the cookies you said you loved one day while you were having coffee together.

Or when Bobby invited you to have lunch with him and Athena on a Sunday ‘cause he knew you were going to do it alone.

Or when Buck gave you a book he'd heard you say was your favorite during a conversation.

*

It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday. Your hands were shaking, your heart pounding. The words your father had once spoken echoed in your mind. "You will never be loved". But you were at a table with 118's entire family, and you felt loved. Maddie told you about the gossip from her work. Karen hugged you from the side every time you passed by her. Hen included you in every conversation. Athena calmly answered all the questions you were curious about her work. So why did you feel like an imposter? Why was your father's voice echoing inside your head? Why were you on the verge of an anxiety attack?

"I'll be right back" you muttered to the girls, but you realized how shaky your voice sounded. You were pathetic.

You barely made it to the bathroom, your legs buckled and you sat down in the corner of the room. You could hardly breathe, it was hard to pull in the air. Tears streamed down your face. Your heart was racing. Your hands were shaking.

You heard your voice being called from outside. Damn. You couldn't calm down, your hand was on your chest as if it could make the pain go away.

"Hey, hey. I'm here. Calm down, I’ve got you" it was Buck.

His voice was just a whisper in your ear. You let a sob escape your lips. Pathetic. You felt his arms around you, until you were all wrapped up in his arms. Why was he doing that? Why did he care?

He stayed there until you stopped crying. You were still in his arms, and it was so warm, so safe. Sighs came from your lips, and you couldn't imagine what a mess Buck's head and heart were in. He wanted you in his arms, not just now.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you, so you stayed.

"You don't have to talk about what's going on in there, but the day you feel like you need a hug to cry into, you've got mine" your eyes filled with tears again. "And don't ever apologize for it"

*

The smiles on your lips were becoming constant. And it was Buck's favorite image. You were letting people through your armor, you were letting your guard down, and it felt good. You now baked pies and cakes for the station on your days off, recipes learned from the girls after a few long afternoons of chatting and coffee.

Your laughter was contagious, and the boys would always crack little jokes to get them out of you.

Your eyes were now looking out for a pair of blue ones, all the time, everywhere. Eyes that were always looking back at you. Your hands were always looking for an excuse to bump into Buck's, just to feel that shiver run down your spine every time. And he would find any reason to text you, until the excuses became routine. You woke up every day with a good morning message and went to bed with a good night one. The little touches now became big gestures, Buck loved to brush your hair out of your face and tuck them behind your ear. And you loved to run your hand over the birthmark above his eye. You loved when his warm lips traveled up your neck to your lips. You loved when his hands ran over your body always so slowly and so gently, bringing goosebumps wherever they went. You loved making love with him. How he worshiped your body, how much he worshiped you. The way he made you feel loved.

You had a hold on Buck, and you didn't even know it. He had become attached to you, attached to the idea of having you by his side. The nights with you were the ones he could truly rest in, the mornings where he woke up to your soft kisses on his face, were the ones he would keep forever in his mind.

But he could feel that you were still resisting his feelings, and he was terrified of losing you. Buck was in love with you. It took months for him to realize that, but he did it. He loved you.

But one thing has never changed. And as Buck followed the loud murmurs coming from Bobby’s office, where he knew you were at, he kept in mind the danger you were in at every call. He couldn't lose you.

"Hey, what happe-" he couldn't finish the sentence when he saw you walking out the door, since you brushed past him, bumping into his shoulder, without even looking him in the face.

Buck made his way to the room, where he saw his captain wiping his hands across his face, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"She'll end up dead if she keep acting like this, Buck"

"I know"

"After the last call, if she doesn't change her behavior, I'll be forced to suspend her."

"I know."

Buck couldn't lose you.

You couldn't talk to Buck yet, you were so nervous after your conversation with Bobby. You were trying your best, how could he tell you that you had a death wish love? You were saving lives, and it didn't matter if it cost you your own. You didn't care.

A new call ecoed through the station. It was something big. A fire in a shed. People were working at the time, so there were many likely victims. You were anxious, just as you were before any call, but you were ready for it. You were born ready.

"Be careful," Buck told you before you got off the truck and you nodded. You were always careful "I love you"

You turned surprised to Buck, you'd never said that to each other before. It disconcerted you.

"Buck, I-"

Before you could say anything, you heard Bobby calling you to give instructions and you had to run.

I love you.

The words echoed in your head as you entered the burning building. No one had ever said that to you. You didn't even know the weight those words carried.

"Sir, follow this path and the fireman will take you to the exit."

It was so hot. You'd already lost count of how many people you'd pulled out of the line of fire. Your head was heavy. It was getting hard to breathe.

"Evacuate the building now," you could hear Cap saying over the radio. Everyone agreed and gave their location. You were about to respond when you heard something.

It was a call for help.

You could have sworn it was a call for help.

"Captain, I'm in the east side, I hear someone screaming for help. I'm close, I can get them out"

"Negative, the building will collapse at any moment. Get out immediately"

Your vision was blurred.

I love you.

You couldn't go out and leave those people to die, so you went ahead. The way to the door was difficult, there was a lot of rubble, and when you opened it, you froze in place.

It was empty. The fire danced in front of you, mocking you. But the cries for help... you've never been so wrong before.

I love you.

“It’s empty” you murmured at the radio.

Bobby was shouting your name from the other end of the radio. You turned around, but it was so hard to breathe. You tried to find your way back, but everything was spinning. Buck was now calling your name.

I love you.

His words were running through your head. Your steps were now slow. The way out, you couldn't find the way out. You could hear the fire laughing at you. Stupid. Pathetic. You heard an explosion behind you, and it threw you off balance, bringing you to the ground. You'd been walking through fire all your life, and now it would finally take its place back. Your siren buzzed in your ears. That would be the end of you.

I love you too, Buck.

The moment Buck came out of the building and didn't see you outside, he tried to go back. But hands held him in place.

This couldn't be happening. No, no.

Bobby called your name on the radio and you didn't answer. It's empty. That was the last answer they got. You weren't answering. An explosion. On the east side, where you were.

Buck's knees gave way, and he went down. All eyes were on the exit of the building waiting for you, waiting for a miracle. But it never came.

Buck screamed, and he would scream until his lungs gave up.

Time seemed to stop. Buck's screams were the only noise to be heard. And another explosion. Tears rolled down trough some faces. No one could believe it. This couldn't be happening.

Buck couldn't lose you like this.

"We found her" some voice echoed over the radio.

Buck's heart could stop any second now.

But the building was collapsing.

He broke free from his friends and ran into the building, dodging all the fallen and burnt obstacles, and he saw you. You were in the arms of a fireman. He ran up to you and carried you out of the building. As soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the building collapsed. Buck held you in his arms with all his strength and ran, feeling the debris fly past you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" was the first thing that came out of your lips when he put you on the stretcher and he shut you up, pressing his lips to yours.

Buck analyzed each of your wounds alongside Hen and Chim and you could see the tears streaming down Buck's face, the ones that were also streaming down your own.

You were still struggling to breathe, every inch of your body ached, and you felt on the verge of losing consciousness. Until you succumbed to the darkness that was calling your name.

*

You woke up a few hours later in hospital. Your hands were being squeezed and you could feel something wet running down over them. Tears.

Buck had his face in your hands, he had never felt so afraid before. And when he heard your voice calling him, it was as if he could finally breathe.

"I'm sorry, Buck, I-I don't know what happened-"

"I almost lost you today"

Your heart broke into a million pieces. You did this to him, your recklessness, your impulsive behavior. It was your fault.

"I'm sorry"

Tears were now streaming down your face and he moved closer, running his hands gently down your cheeks.

"I was terrified of losing you. I'd die if I do."

"I would never leave you"

"Promise?"

"I love you, Buck. And I'll love you to death"

"Please don't let it be soon"

You smiled. No one had ever loved you like that.

"It won't."

[vixstarria]

Vix, gimme an interaction between Wyll and Astarion. Where Astarion is like yo quit trying to steal my girl. But in his Astarion-y way that you write so well! <3

Congrats on 1000 followers my friend!

My pleasure, here's what I came up with:

Bonus Astarion POV scene following Seeing stars:

Earlier this evening you’d finally pulled her aside, confessing your lies and manipulation. Laying bare more details about your past. Fully expecting that to be the end of whatever it was you had with her.  

And yet, despite all odds, she stayed. She wasn’t even angry with you. Something was definitely wrong with her. Delightfully, maddeningly so.  

The proverbial shoe would inevitably drop sooner or later – this was too good to be true. But until then, you could allow yourself more of these impossible moments of comfort and happiness.  

You now stalked the camp, trying to find something to occupy yourself with. You’d been doing your utmost to avoid following her around like a lovesick puppy. After all, now you knew she would be back in your arms again later tonight. And you wouldn’t need to do anything but hold her. 

You caught sight of Wyll. An irritated anger still seethed in you after the stunt he had pulled yesterday. He had managed to avoid you all day, having stayed back in camp. 

He was sparring with Lae’zel, trying to teach her how to use a rapier. She was arguing, perhaps justifiably, that she didn't see the point in poking small holes in someone when she could simply cut them in half with a greatsword.  

On an impulse, you approached.  

“A moment with your sparring mate, if you don’t mind,” you directed at Lae’zel. She motioned you to go ahead, with a knowing look.  

Before Wyll could react you swiftly kicked his legs out from under him, simultaneously grabbing him by a horn and catching him in a headlock.  

“I heard you’re not too fond of the horns. Rest assured, I will assist you in breaking them off should you touch what does not belong to you again.” 

Lae’zel stood back observing, arms crossed, with an amused expression on her face, as Wyll scuttled, kicking up dust, trying to keep his balance.  

“You are right, and I apologise! I was caught up in the moment and not thinking straight,” Wyll gritted through his teeth. Trying to keep the peace and stay amicable even now. How dull. 

“Yes, I’m sure you were quite caught up in the moment you had orchestrated.” You dropped him in the dirt. “Just don’t do it again,” you said, starting to walk away.  

“Would you have pulled his hair if you could grasp it?” 

Apparently the scuffle had merited a rare smile from Lae’zel.  

“Honestly... Probably, yes,” you said without slowing down, as you walked past her. It wasn’t too long ago that Tav mentioned that Lae’zel herself had propositioned her recently, and you were not about to get into an altercation with the githyanki. 

“You have already mastered biting, but have you considered scratching as a tactic?” she called out after you.  

Over two centuries old, and reduced to fistfights over your lover, like a grease-faced adolescent.  

It was mere days ago that you socked Gale in the nose for referring to Tav as your ‘livestock’. He still sported a bruise and steered clear of you. 

Had you gotten into fights over love interests in your youth, you wondered. You scoured your memory for anything that might ring a bell, but came well short of any images. Some ghost of a feeling whispered faintly in your mind. Despair at... being rejected? Excluded? Were there several people involved at once..? The memory came up as a sour aftertaste of melancholy and dejection. It must have been sharp once, for any remnant to survive for over 200 years. You didn’t try to pursue it further. 

You rounded a corner to see Tav talking with that mountain of an elf named Halsin.  

Did you truly just overhear them talking about how large he is..? 

Ha! But also, really? Sigh... Fuck my unlife... 

You would deal with that later, if it ever came to that. You kept walking. 

You glanced at Shadowheart. The cleric was praying in her corner of the campsite, as she was wont to do more and more often in her spare time, of late. When had she approached Tav, anyway, you wondered. Must have been back at the tiefling party. Hardly a threat anymore.  

What now?  

You spotted Karlach stargazing near her excuse of a tent.  

You grabbed a bottle of wine you found palatable from one of the supply crates and made your way towards the tiefling.  

“Karlach! My best friend, my pal. My home-girl, my rotten soldier. My sweet cheese, my good-time gal.” * 

“Are you okay there, fangs?” she gave you an apprehensive look.  

“Never been better! A game of cards, now that you can hold them yourself?” 

There. You could have normal, friendly interactions with your companions too.  

“Alright. But I’ll punch you every time I catch you cheating.” 

“Fair.” 

Absolutely normal.  

*Sorry, I couldn’t resist, the Lazlo quote plagues me.  

[kurogane2512]

After reading the Cocolia one shot in wattpad and then in Tumblr, I can't help but wonder at the end. I really want to see what happened after 😭😭

I want a Herrscher of the Void (Sirin) reader meeting Star Rail Himeko and the reader avoids her when meeting her because back in her universe, killing her Himeko was the biggest regret the reader made, thinking it was all a trap for her, now living in regret she has to get used to this Star Rail Himeko as they journey on the Astral Express. (SFW or NSFW)

I actually have a request for a fic about her continuation with the Express so I'll be writing all my thoughts in that! 🥰

And oh my god my heart broke reading the request all I think of is the arc when Kiana suffered the aftermath of the Hyperion battle and blamed herself so much for Himeko's death 😭

Game: Honkai Star Rail

Characters: HSR Himeko x Herrscher!reader (HoV)

Type: Fluff and slight angst with comfort

The Astral Express soared through the vast empty galaxy when an unexpected obstruction rocked the train and alerted its passengers. Pom Pom notified that some kind of portal formed on the path and an entity appeared from it, stopping the express from moving. March and Dan Heng took out their weapons and stood on guard while Welt stood in front of the door as it opened, the obsturction finally coming in their sight.

"Oh, it really is a train... Huh, interesting."

Welt's eyes widened at the person in front. How could it be? He had no idea.

"....Been a long time, Mr Welt. So, this is where you have been all these years."

"....Y/n, or should I say.... Herrscher of the Void? What's your objective here?"

"Now now, no need to be on guard. I'm not here to harm anyone, I was just strolling through space when I picked up your energy and thought to say hi~"

Welt glared at you then looked back at March and Dan Heng who lowered their weapons on his signal and allowed you inside.

"You have changed, Y/n. Did you win over the Honkai?"

"Mhm, you could say that. The price was leaving everyone and everything I cherished, but I don't regret it."

"You have been... floating through space since then? How long has it been?"

"I don't know anymore.... I remember I left a few months after that incident. When did you leave Earth, Mr Welt?"

"....Around 8 years after that incident according to Earth's time."

"I see, it's been a while then...."

Safe to say, your first encounter with the Astral Express Crew was full of surprises and uneasiness. Welt introduced you to March and Dan Heng to the best of his abilities, intentionally skipping to disclose too many details about Earth. You had just begun to take in the atmosphere and feel of the Express when your eyes fell upon a familiar woman walking towards you.... those flame-like wavy hair and golden eyes, you couldn't believe your eyes.

"Ahem, Welt? What's going on?"

Welt walked up to the said woman and explained the same things to her, all the while you stood speechless at your spot and stared at her with wide eyes. It was a splitting image, yet there were significant differences between her and the woman in your memory.

"H....H-Himeko? Is that you....?"

You spoke in a shaky and unsteady voice, countless memories and images surging through your mind at the moment. The woman responded to your voice and looked at you with a gentle smile, and right at that moment you saw her again. That face appeared in front of you, projected on this woman's face with the exact same expression.

"Ara, you already know my name? Welt, did you tell her?" the woman named Himeko spoke, and indeed her voice was exactly the same as well. It was like meeting a clone, but deep inside you knew what was happening yet you found it hard to believe.

"Ah, no— How to explain this?" Welt said with a sigh and held his head. Himeko softly chuckled then came closer to you, observing you from head-to-toe for a moment with a smile.

"Welcome to the Astral Express. I'm Himeko, the Navigator of the Express. It's a pleasure to meet someone like you, Y/n. Welt has told me about Herrschers on his home world, and I must say it's quite exciting to meet one with my own eyes finally."

This woman was her, yet also wasn't her. You didn't know how to react.

"Uh... I... I...." you stammered and stepped back, wanting to run far away from here.

"I.... No.... I.... I'm sorry!" you blurted out and summoned a portal but couldn't jump in as Welt held your arm and stopped you, using his own powers to cancel out your portal.

"Hold it, Y/n! Dan Heng, March! Don't let her leave!" Welt ordered and both March and Dan Heng immediately held you from the other side.

"W-What?! Welt, let me go! What's the meaning of this?!" you shouted and struggled out of their hold; you could push everyone away in the blink of an eye but the presence of the woman in front made you powerless.

"Y/n, calm down! Let us talk first!" Welt shouted.

"I don't want to! Let me go! I'll leave and never come back! I promise I won't hurt anyone!" tears were swelling up in your eyes as you looked back n forth at all the people in front. Himeko was visibly worried and tried to help as well, but the barrage of traumatic memories and your past weighed you down causing you to pass out in front of everyone. The next time you woke up was in one of the rooms of the Express, tears stains on your face as you stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and recalled your past.

You had a slight hope it was your Himeko, but you knew that wasn't the case and maybe that was for the best. You ended up staying on the Express for a few days on Welt's request, you didn't understand his motive but you couldn't deny you were drawn to the company here. March and Dang Heng were pleasant to be around and kept you occupied with questions and activities, eager to see your powers and know you more.

As for Himeko? You didn't see her after you woke up, you were informed she was fixing up any problems on the Express caused by your unexpected arrival. But that was only for a day. Afterwards, you saw her every now and then sitting in the lobby drinking coffee or reading some book. She always greeted you with the same gentle smile and offered you to sit beside her but you politely refused every time.

You had come close to everyone on the Express except Himeko, and she was quick to notice that. It was obvious how you avoided her, either looking away from her whenever in the same room or making very small talk if she tried approaching you. While Himeko would never interfere in your personal life, she couldn't deny it was upsetting how you avoided only her. She wondered if you hated her, and what she did to make you hate her.

You had become a reliable helping hand around the Express, Pom Pom seemed to find you quite efficient and was happy to have you on-board. There were times when you'd reach places generally difficult to reach in the Express and fix errors; like the time when the engine suddenly stopped working and Himeko was trying to fix it but she needed someone to go outside and aid her. It was an easy task for you so you offered to help, despite your hidden reluctance.

"And... that was it! Well done, Y/n. Thank you very much for the help. I'd normally make Dan Heng go outside and do that but you made it so much easier. Say, would you mind if I invited you for some coffee and snacks? Or anything other than coffee even, I'd just like to thank you for helping me with this." Himeko extended a cordial invitation to you, hopeful that you'd accept.

"Ah.... Um, sorry but no. You don't need to do that to thank me. Uh... s-sorry, I'll leave now. You can call me to help again, I don't mind."

"A-Ah, wait, Y/n—!" Himeko tried to protest but you already teleported away from her sight. She sighed and looked down in perplexion; thanking you was just one reason; she had hoped to get to know you better and perhaps clear any misunderstandings. It was truly confusing and upsetting to her now. She decided to talk to Welt after all her attempts to befriend you failed, he was the only person who knew you best.

That night, you laid on the bed of your cabin when an unexpected knock came on your door followed by an even more unexpected voice, "Y/n, it's me. Are you still awake? I'm sorry but I needed your help with something." It was Himeko. You sat up in shock and contemplated what to do, ultimately deciding to agree since you wanted to help her. You didn't care what she thought of you, as long as she was safe and happy.

"Oh, sure. I'll come." you opened the door for her and she asked you to come with her. To your surprise, she took you to her own room. You didn't understand what kind of help she needed here, and you became slightly suspicious.

"S-So, what do you need help with, Hi— Um, ma'am?" you struggled to even say her name.

Himeko smiled, "Have a seat first, make yourself comfortable."

You slowly nodded and made your way to the bed then sat down on one side. She looked through her belongings for a while then picked up something and came to sit beside you quite closely, making you shift away from her in a tensed manner.

"Here, does this look familiar to you?" Himeko handed you a photo and your eyes widened looking at it, your hands trembling while holding it.

"T-This... how come? W-Where is this? And how do you...?" you blabbered a string of words and looked at Himeko in shock.

"....It's on a Space Station that the Express regularly visits. I don't know if it's the real thing, but it is there in their storage room as a prized possession of the Space Station's owner. Sometimes I have been close to it and observed it, and I hear some strange whispers in my ear for a brief moment but I'm never able to make out what they say."

"I see.... I do know about it. It's.... from my world, from someone close to me."

You looked away then handed back the photo to her and abruptly stood up to walk out, "Is that all? Sorry, I'll help you some other time—"

"I know what happened, Y/n. I know who you are referring to." Himeko spoke before you could leave, making you stop in your tracks with your back turned to her.

"....Did Welt tell you?"

Himeko sighed, "Yes.... I didn't want to barge into your personal matters but I became increasingly worried how you avoided me. Will you give me a chance to talk, Y/n?"

"There's nothing to talk about.... It's not your fault, none of it is. You did nothing wrong. It's my own inability and fear. I'm sorry for making you feel that way but just know you are not in the wrong."

"Then!" Himeko suddenly came near you and held your wrist, "Then, let me help you through that fear! Let me help you overcome it!"

Her words shocked you, the touch of her skin sending shivers in your body. You gritted your teeth then slowly turned to look at her, the same gentle smile and kind eyes gazing at you.

"....Let go. I don't deserve it."

Himeko was surprised by the hurtful look on your face then frowned at your words and pulled you towards herself, tightly embracing you.

"Who decides that? I believe people can change and deserve a second chance, a chance to make things right and forge their own path. I look forward to the future."

".....You are so much like her. She would also say something similar in such situations."

Tears welled up in your eyes, Himeko gently caressed your head while embracing you and you couldn't hold back anymore. You melted in her touch and familiar feeling, wrapping your own arms around her and holding her close as if you never wanted to let go. Both of you sat down on the bed beside each other and she held your hand while wiping the tears from your face then cupping your face.

"S-Sorry, I don't know what to do in this situation...."

"Well, for starters, how about telling me what's on your mind? You have only been saying 'sorry' and running away from me every time I tried to talk."

"Ah, sorry about that. No, I mean—" you mindlessly blurted more string of apologies making Himeko chuckle and hold you again.

"Just calm down first, okay? Take it slow, you don't have to force yourself."

You nodded then finally calmed down enough after some time and felt like talking.

"How much did Welt tell you?"

"Not much. He explained what Herrschers were in your world and what kind of powers you have. He said you likely hold yourself responsible for causing pain and destruction there, and that you have seemingly been floating in space for a long time as punishment for your actions...."

"He left out the most important part then.... Yes, he's correct about all of that. I.... lost control of myself and killed so many people, destroyed so many lives. Among them was her..... the one woman I loved. She saved me, but I was blinded by power and....k-killed her too."

Your breath hitched as you finally said the words deep in your heart.

"That woman was.... Himeko in your world?"

You nodded, "She looked just like you.... Same hair color, eyes and voice. She was my teacher first, she taught me so much and helped me. And I.... what did I do to repay her?"

More tears filled your eyes and Himeko caressed your head, "I understand. Thank you for being so brave and telling me."

"I know I shouldn't project her on you. You are indeed similar but also significantly different, I have noticed it during the time I have been here. But.... I.... I'm sorry I just—"

"Shh shh, it's okay. No need to say more, I completely understand."

You nodded and she again hugged you closely, keeping your head on her chest and tenderly caressing it.

"But you know, Y/n, what Welt told me about Herrschers was different, especially about you. He said you were experimented on as a child and injected with the Honkai virus. Then the Honkai virus is responsible for what happened, it controlled your mind and made you do all that, then you left your planet to stay away from everyone and keep them safe. And now you gained control over the Honkai all by yourself; so tell me, how is any of this your fault? To me, it seems you are just a victim like everyone else. In fact, you have suffered the most in all of this."

"....I'm still the one who committed all those actions, it was my body and my face. If I was strong enough to gain control earlier then I would have prevented it, but I couldn't. It is on me.... I can't undo it even with these powers."

Himeko looked at you with a sympathetic expression then gently held your chin and turned your face to herself, you gazed into her deep golden eyes and felt lost as if you were looking at the love of your life. But you knew what the truth was and there was no denying it, it was pointless to gaze into this depth and search for her. You pulled away from her grip and turned around, your back facing her now.

"Uh, thank you for listening but I'm fine. I'll leave the Express tomorrow and not bother any of you more, it was a nice change of pace meeting you all and you treated me really well. I can't thank you enough..."

Himeko was caught by surprise, "You know, everyone would be happy if you stay. They have all already accepted you as a Nameless. Pom Pom loves how helpful you are with repairs, March is happy to have a companion around the same age as her and it seems you both share some hobbies, Dan Heng is intrigued by you and finds you a good practice partner, Welt is... well, you already know him enough."

"....And what about you? What do you think of me? I have only been avoiding you all this time...."

Himeko smiled to herself and moved closer to you then embraced you from behind, wrapping her arms around your torso and snuggling into your shoulder. The action made you blush, her body pressed closely to you and her breath tickled your ear, her lips even ghosting your skin.

"Why, you are very helpful to me as well. Everytime you helped me selflessly and asked for nothing in return. I know how you observe me and keep a close eye on me even when we aren't in the same space. You avoid me up-front but you are otherwise always attentive to me, aren't you?"

"....How did you know?"

"Hehe, just call it a Navigator's instinct. Of course, I'm happy if you stay as well. You have been alone and lonely long enough, it's time you heal your wounds and find happiness. If you like being with us then you are more than welcome to stay."

"I do... I really like it here. All of you are so different yet you seem like a family, I didn't know this is what a family felt like...."

"Mhm, we have been together for a while and faced many things together. All of us will always support each other. That's the way of the Nameless."

You wiped the tears in your eyes then let out a chuckle, "To think it's Himeko again who's comforting me.... It's a strange turn of fate."

Himeko smiled to herself then kissed your cheek, a blush forming on your face as you slowly turned to face her. She cupped your face and caressed your cheek with her thumb then came closer and kissed your forehead too followed by kissing your other cheek.

"H-Himeko.... you don't have to...." you said embarrassingly.

"Hehe, I can't help myself. You are so adorable and you finally called my name~"

You looked away bashfully, giving her the chance to kiss your cheek again. The barrage of kisses on your face didn't stop and soon you found yourself pinned on the bed with Himeko straddling you, both of you gazing at each other with ragged breaths and red faces. She cupped your face and slowly leaned down to connect her lips with yours, initiating a soft and gentle kiss. Your eyes opened wide at this, yet the feeling of her lips on yours made you melt into her and kiss back.

The kiss didn't last for long, it felt more like a loving peck with how quickly she pulled back, leaving you with a sense of wanting more. Himeko smiled and sat up on your waist, pulling you with herself. She wrapped her arms around your neck and embraced you again, whispering in a soft tone, "Let's take it slow, shall we? If you want to do more, that is~"

You blushed then kept your hand on her upper back and nodded, "I do.... but I don't want to think of you as a replacement for her. You are Himeko but you are not her, and I want to love you for who you are not because you are Himeko. Um, did that make sense?"

"Mhm, I understand. I also want that, I'd be upset if you take me just because I look and sound like her...." she paushed then leaned close to your ear, "....I'll make you love me, I hope you will be prepared~"

Little did you both know that you were already drawn to her, the Himeko that she was and not the one in your memory.

[vax-merstappen]

press delete (cl16)

summary: after your breakup with charles, you can't stop thinking back on your memories together as you go through your photos. you try to get over him as you realize he has moved on.

warnings: angst, drunkenness, breakup

part 2!

After everything, you didn't know how he could have moved on so fast. It had been years of love, or so you had thought. But maybe with someone so rich and famous as Charles, he would always be looking for something better. Or in this case, someone better.

The pictures of him with some supermodel had spread like wildfire. They were on his yacht in Monaco, the same one you had sailed together on only four months earlier. Of course he would dump you for a model. He was always striving for a level of perfection in his life that you didn't even think was possible. And clearly you didn't fit within that lifestyle.

Instead, you sat on the couch in your apartment, scrolling through your camera roll and debating whether to delete all the pictures of him with you. And as each one went by, you couldn't help but remember all the times you had, all the moments you spent in his arms, and all the memories you made together.

Your eyes settled on a picture of you dancing in the rain and you let your mind wander.

---

As you were walking back from eating dinner at the local cafe down the street from your shared apartment, the sky had opened up and rain started pouring down onto the two of you. Neither you or Charles had thought to bring an umbrella.

The rain continued to pour down and you ran down the street towards home, laughing and trying not to step in any puddles. You saw one particularly big large puddle and an idea came to mind. As Charles went to step around it, you gave him a light push and of course he stepped right in it.

"Mon amour!" he exclaimed, giving you a look of exaggerated disappointment.

You gave a playful shrug and continued running back towards your apartment.

"Oh it's on now!" he said, chasing after you. He was slightly faster than you and caught up quickly, picking you up as you giggled trying to free yourself from his grasp.

"Put me down Charles!"

"Not until you're as wet as me."

"Oh? You want to make me wet?"

"Not like that!" he laughed.

You couldn't help but laugh back, giving in as he set you down in a puddle. You pulled him into the puddle with you and you found yourselves holding each other.

"Let's dance in the rain!" you exclaimed. "We're soaked already."

And so you did, guiding him through the steps of a dance you made up as you went. You didn't see the camera at the time, but when you saw the photo on social media the next day you saved it to your phone. It was a stunning picture after all even if it was taken by a fan.

You wondered if his new girlfriend would be willing to dance in the rain with him.

It didn't matter now and so you pressed delete.

---

Countless images later, you found yourself staring at a picture of the two of you on your apartment balcony late at night. You had spent countless nights there just the two of you, reminiscing about life until the early hours of the morning. As you looked closer at the image, you saw a bottle of wine in the background and you remembered that night.

"What if I told you I loved you?" Charles asked, slurring his words a little.

"You're my boyfriend, I would hope you love me," you laughed back, hiccupping a little.

Both of you were clearly drunk and your words were starting to show it. You had lost track of how long you had sat on the balcony, drinking wine and enjoying each others presence. You had no intentions of stopping because of a little drunkenness.

"No, mon amour, I love you sooooo much. More than I love aaaanybody else."

"Me too, Charles. I love you more than anyone. More than the tifosi."

"Noooobody loves me more than the tifosi."

You felt a surge of anger. "No! I love you most! I'll fight every Italian man who thinks they love you more!"

You tried to stand up as if to physically go find every Italian man and ended up tripping over your own chair.

"Are you ok?" Charles asked, reaching to help you up.

"It will take a lot more to stop me than a damn chair," you hiccupped, grabbing his hand and settling back into said chair.

"Tu es veeeery strong, ma cherie. Les italiens vont be sooooo afraid."

You started laughing uncontrollably. For some reason you always found it funny when he would get really drunk and speak in a mix of French and English.

"Can I tell you something funny?" you asked between laughs. "It might sound insane."

"Oui."

"I think you're the prettiest man in the whooooole world."

"Well can I tell you something even crazier?"

"Yeah."

"I think you're the prettiest girl. I've never seen anyone so belle."

You only vaguely remember the moments that happened after that. The both of you laughing, finishing the bottle of wine, and at some point in the night heading to bed.

As you looked at the drunken selfie that you had taken sometime during the night, you wondered how the man who had once gushed over you like so had moved on so fast. Did he tell every girl he saw that he loved her more than anyone else? Or was that reserved for you?

You knew now that all those words that had meant so much then were empty now. Another picture deleted from your phone, another memory you'd rather forget.

And fuck him for leading you on for so long. For making you think you were more than enough just to leave you behind like a toy he'd grown bored of.

---

After an hour, all the pictures were gone except one. It was the only one that you had decided to keep. The one that would be your souvenir to remind you of it all. The good and the bad but most especially the ugly.

It was the last night you had seen Charles in person. You had been out for a day on his yacht. The past few weeks had been rocky with the two of you getting in more and more arguments. It had started with petty things, like his refusal to do the dishes and your unwillingness to pick where to eat dinner out. But then it escalated to him being away too often and your desire to "control his life."

It had all boiled over when the two of you had been cooped up together on the sea.

"Charles!" you exclaimed, completely exasperated with his childish behavior. He had pushed you towards the water, hoping you would fall in. Past you would have taken it as a joke, but not after he refused to take you seriously for months, always pushing aside everything you said.

"Mon amour, it was just a joke. Don't take it all so serious. We are here to have a good time, no?"

"Not if you are going to throw me in the ocean."

"You are so dramatic sometimes."

"Says the king of drama himself. You always blow things out of proportion, always acting like you're better than I am."

He scoffed. "You know I don't do that."

"You're literally doing it right now."

You couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but you knew he had just rolled them at you. When had it become like this? How had you gone from loving each other more than anyone else in the world to actively hating his presence?

You had walked over to him. "Is it always going to be like this? You thinking you're always right? That I don't deserve to be with someone like you?"

The silence was telling. He paused for a few moments before responding. "Of course I don't think that way. It's just you keep starting arguments with me. Can't you just appreciate being on a yacht in the sea? Not always turn it into a problem?"

You bit back an angry response. How dare he go back and pin everything on you? Like he always did?

You pulled his sunglasses onto his head, making him look you in the eye. "I don't think this is going to work anymore."

"Mon amour..."

"No, don't call me that now. Not when you've made everything about you. Not when I can't do anything that makes you happy."

He sighed, running his hands through his hair. He looked back at you with his stunning blue eyes. The ones you still hadn't been able to get out of your head ever since.

"Okay. We can take a break. But let me get one last picture of you to remember you by. And when we get back together, I will delete it off my phone so we don't have to remember this day? Ok, ma cherie?"

You had nodded. The picture stared back at you now. You were dressed in one of his oversized shirts over your swimsuit. Your skin was sun-kissed from summer days outside. And your eyes looked anything but happy, your smile only going as far as your face.

You wondered if he had kept the picture, still waiting for when you got back together. He had promised after all. But even though you had broken up with him, he was the one who moved on. To someone better, to someone who might love him like you once did.

Even if he did keep the picture, you doubted the day would come when he would delete it for the reason he described.

So with one last bit of motivation, you pressed delete. Deleted the last of your memories, the last of your time with him, the last of your hope for the future.

And just like that, he was gone.

[anemoiashifts]

“pretending” to be your desired reality self.

“pretending im in my desired reality.”

“dressing like my dr self.”

“editing my dr self”.

that’s just yourself. you are already in your desired reality. all you need to to is believe that.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

if you’ve been on my tiktok (and tumblr, i guess) account long enough, you’ve probably heard the term “act as you are” or “live as you are” said in a handful of my videos.

what act/live as you are means is you need to be in the mindset that you already have those things. “pretending” is simply the first step…kinda.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ how have I shifted if I’m not in my desired reality ?

“i’ll be delulu & pretend im in my dr!”

not quite.

knowing something by seeing it & knowing something spiritually are two different things. think knowing something because you experienced it vs knowing something spiritually. when you believe something spiritually, your world will mirror your thoughts & inner world. your brain likes to be right & look for visual proof to confirm your thoughts. your mind will be constantly looking for exterior validation.

imagination is the most important thing we have the ability to do. everything begins with imagination; the shows you watch, the content you consume, the clothing you wear. everything starts with imagination. “living as you are” is you imagining that you are in your desired reality.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ imagination ≠ visualizing.

imagine you’re going for a walk. you can visualize yourself out in nature but what does it feel like? is it hot? cold? imagine the hot sun against your skin or a slight breeze blowing through your hair, feet against the pavement. the noises you’ll hear while on your route.

it’s not just pretending to be something, it’s mentally becoming that version of yourself even if your exterior doesn’t match your interior, yet. it’s physically feeling it.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ ”i haven’t shifted.”

applying this to shifting, what if you haven’t shifted ? like I said before in a previously, if you keep saying “i haven’t shifted” your brain loves to be right & affirm that to you through the physical world by not seeing your desired reality. wanta know what else you don’t see ? air ? wind ? particles ? but you know it’s all there because you believe that to be fact & that fact has been persisted since birth.

you must form an unbreakable, unchanging belief that you have shifted. that you are your desired self & in your desired reality & your beliefs will manifest into the physical.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ persistence.

persist. persist. persist.

“…the quality that allows someone to continue doing something or trying to do something even though it is difficult or opposed by other people.”

okay another example. lets say you’re a kid & you really want a puppy. you’ve been asking for one for years everyday since you could talk & you were always met by a “no” from your parents. maybe you’d imagine what it was like having a dog curl up beside you in bed & picking out a name & imagine what it was to give it treats & play with it, before you fell asleep every night. flash forward to now, you have a dog.

how did you get the dog ? by persisting. you would have never gotten the dog if you hadn’t persisted & imaged what it was like to have one.

that also applies to shifting—manifestation in general too.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

[kombuuuu]

Okay so this song, right?

Now the original version (the one above) is fun so you don’t realize it, but when you listen to the MTV Unplugged version (the one below) you realize that it’s really fucking sad

So, upon doing research, I learned that the song is about asking someone to give them a chance. ‘Take on me, take me on’ is saying, “give me chance, let me try.”

And what did that make me think of? Earth 42! Miles Morales.

Think about it.

Reader likes him, he likes them, but he’s scared of (A) being abandoned, (B) giving them a reason to leave, or (C) hurting them. He doesn’t think he’s good enough, and that makes it hard to be happy.

But reader? They know. They get it. And they know that, with communication and a little bit of faith, it can work. So they’re literally telling him to give it a chance. To let it work.

This is what my silly little brain does sometimes.

he so baby

also wtf why would u bring up this song it’s been years but tlou is still fresh on the mind bro wtf wtf what the hell

Take me on, Please.

42!Miles Morales x GN!Reader

—

Not a day passed when Miles hasn’t thought of you. When he was ‘working’, or in school — or in the late of night, trying so hard to get to sleep, but with the image of you making the back of his eyelids burn. He stayed awake to maybe escape them— And you still couldn’t leave his mind.

His room would get too dark, and when the ceiling would start to form your silhouette, he would give up. And resign to the deeps of his own mind. Resign to you.

He would toss and turn, clutching his bedsheets in bruised knuckles.

He would slide the other hand down his face, would relish in the pain, pull his skin. Pick at his hands, grip his hair. Would lay lax, and think and think and think.

Until he couldn’t — Until, like to his thoughts. He would concede.

And he’d call you — and you’d answer, and he’d sigh — relieved, stressed, scared, loved.

—

He’d try to avoid you, don’t get him wrong — he would.

He would ignore your texts, and skip his classes when he knew you were in them. He’d pick the locks to the schools roof, sit legs crossed on the touch concrete, and watch the students idle below him.

But it’d only last so long.

He’d call you, dead of night. Then wake up to a “gud morning C:” text the morning after, and he’d scroll through everything he’d missed and reply to every one.

He’d get scolded by his Momma for skipping class, and bashfully return to your shared table — you welcoming him back with a smile and a pencil already in your hand, ready for him to ask. Because you knew he never brought one, you knew him.

You’d see him from your spot on the courtyard, chatting with your other friends. The ones he’d envy for being so carefree with you.

And you’d send him a discreet wave, watching him stiffen as you put a finger to your lips in sworn secrecy.

“My lips are sealed

(I wish you’d shut them).”

You were a plague. A torturous, sickeningly sweet plague.

—

You huffed to yourself as you made your way up the last set of stairs, leaning on your knees a little at the top and cursing Miles for being difficult.

You groaned again as you pushed up, grasping the doors handle and opening it with ease.

The boy in question was sat on the edge of the roof, watching students and teachers alike.

“You ‘kay?”

He barely flinched, head titling towards you for a moment in consideration, eyes never meeting yours, but he saw your concern through his peripherals.

“Mm..” He hummed in acknowledgment, a relatively positive — but somewhat unsure sound.

Your brows furrowed slightly, lips curling in on themselves for a moment in silent disagreement.

He didn’t want to speak on it, so you wouldn’t make him.

You walked to his side, and he watched the way the world shifted around you, almost revolved around your movements.

He sighed and turned to face in front of him again — desperate not to meet your eye.

You sat down, your feet sidling off the edge of the roof in swift movements, just like he had. His breath stuttered in worry, and he had an instinct to pull you back. Keep you safe from the dangers he seemed to bring — but that would be counterproductive, wouldn’t it?

But you were fine, and your feet had started kicking. He huffed, scratching away the smile that tried to surface and shoving it back down.

He sniffed, leaning back on one of his hands.

He was so smooth, calculated. Like every movement he made had a lifetime worth of of thought put into it. Maybe it was just confidence, sureness in himself.

Maybe you missed the tremble in his hands, the irritated and blushed skin of his knuckles, creaking with every movement and splitting every night.

The way his skin peeled around the bed of his nails, dry and lifted.

You admired his controlled breathing, and he struggled to steady it — heart rate rising with his efforts.

It’s like you didn’t understand the effect you had on him, oblivious to his nervous nature.

He refocused, and the way the wind hit your face, tracing along the shape of your lips, ruffling your clothes in a soft breeze.

He would envy it — if it didn’t feel stupid.

You gazed at shifting clouds and blue skies, smiling at the hint of the Moon you could still see. And he watched, ever observing in your prose.

“You know —,” He savoured the way your lips moved, how they curled around each word “,—I’d never push you to talk to me, Miles. I’d never be that person.” You glanced at him, and the pulse of electricity that ran through his spine when your eyes met his, it was anything but healthy.

“I know.”

He affirmed your statement, knowing you had never, and would never force him to be open with you. He’d wish you were more demanding.

You hummed and turned back to the sky, eyes shining against sunlight, dancing with something too caring, too intimate for him. He turned to the sky.

“You can talk to me, though.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, shivering at your tone of voice.

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Do you want me to?”

It was your turn to stutter now, breath catching in your throat and trying to find the right words.

“I—“ You laughed nervously, hands fiddling with the little weeds that had sprouted between seems of concrete. “,I wouldn’t wanna be pushy—“

“[Name].”

You stopped, guiltily humming in acknowledgment. If he didn’t want to—

“Mirame.”

Miles pulled you out of your thoughts, watching the shame well behind your eyes, like the mere thought of being overbearing was something to fear.

Your eyelashes fluttered when you looked at him, and the sight made him swoon.

He tilted his head towards you, braids sliding down his shoulders, encouraging you to go on — and you conceded, a subtle frown gracing your features.

“I do.”

He sighed, relieved — and perturbed.

“I can’t..,” You bit your lip and let him find his footing. “,..I can’t talk to you, I want to,”

His heart was stuck in his throat, constricting it enough to suffocate — he’d wished it would claw the confessions out of him.

I cant.”

Your eyes flickered to his hands beside your own, watching them twitch before you met his gaze again, heavy and heart-felt.

“I know.”

—

You were determined. The previous apprehensions you’d felt and faced being forced away in a moment of clarity.

You needed him to talk to you, needed him to be open. He’d never get himself there alone.

You needed him to know you could take him. You wanted to try. At the very least.

You slipped your hands down the windowsill, dangling off the edge and checking to see if you could drop down.

When the fire escape touched the tips of your toes, you let go, listening to see if you’d been to loud as you slowly lowered onto your heels.

When no movement seemed to be heard without your apartment, you turned to the steps, making your way down as quiet as possible and jumping off the last step. You landed on the pavement with a stumble before you righted yourself.

“Ahh, Shit—,” A stray pedestrian sent you you a weird look and you chuckled nervously, muttering an apology and scattering off to find Miles in the vast of a city’s night.

—

You were nearing the corner of his street, his apartment coming into view as you walked. You watched the plants Momma Rio had set on her windowsill sway in a light breeze, and the light flicker different colours from her TV before your eyes drifted towards Miles’ window.

It was dark in there, but you knew he preferred it like that.

He might’ve been asleep, considering how late it was — but it wasn’t likely.

He might’ve lost his passion for art, but you knew sometimes, when he thought no one was looking — he’d sketch or draw whatever came to mind.

Sometimes glancing at the copic markers his dad had got him, the ones he shoved under his bed, before harshly furrowing his brows and disregarding the thought.

The ringing of a stores bell grabbed your attention, whipping your head to the left. A lone man walked out of what looked to be a convenience store, waving to the store clerk with a smile and a cheerful goodbye before going on his way.

You eyed the store, checking its contents through the ceiling to floor windows and purposefully ignoring the graffiti littering them.

When your eye caught onto a Prowler themed face mask (strawberry scented!), you smirked to yourself and headed in.

—

The Prowler wasn’t something exactly looked down upon by the public, if anything — he was favoured.

People were weary at first, scared even. Of the man going around killing strangers, but true to the way of the general public — when the victims names had been revealed, and a string of murders all lined up and marked with a signature slash to the throat —, people had begun to investigate.

And every immoral thing those ‘Victims’ had ever done was brought to light.

No matter how many times the government tried to quiet those things down, to save face, whatever forum you decided to look just a tad deeper in—…

Safe to say he was admired.

So seeing things branded with The Prowler theme wasn’t very out of the blue.

Which is why, walking out of that store, you now had a bag filled to the brim with Prowler merch (?), to tease said Prowler with.

—

Miles followed along to the song playing in his headphones, bouncing his head to Kendrick’s words and mouthing the lyrics with him.

The sketches he made along thick paper formed the shape of your body, the same silhouette stuck in his mind now stained clean paper in led.

He flicked his pencil up slightly, curling is to the shape of your neck and slip of your shoulder. He leant back, trying to see his work from a new angle and take it — you — in from a full scale.

He admired your features before going to fix a smudge on the right side of the page just as the song came to a close.

Through the fade-out, a small ‘clack’ caught his attention.

He dismissed it, glancing in the direction of his window and playing it off as a stray leaf.

Until it happened again a minute later.

He groaned, pausing the song, which he wasn’t happy about — because IFHY is not something you just ‘pause’ — and ripping his headphones out. Spinning on his chair and launching off towards the window, his chair rolled back at his sudden movement, but he was too caught up eyeing the glass to pay attention as to where it went.

He crept closer with a sneer on his face, and as he passed the shelf, reached back behind a book to grab his gun.

Better safe than sorry, was what his Uncle told him.

He ducked behind the wall next to his window, legs crouched enough to have him able to peek smoothly.

His breath left him at the sight of your creased brows, a furrow in them he couldn’t explain. Your lips parted as you focused on aiming at his window, a moment later — another clack, and he almost snorted as the small rock hit the glass and you bent to pick it up again.

Reaching forward and dragging his body in view of the window, he slammed it open, glaring playfully down at you.

Your head snapped up, caught with a stone in your metaphorically red hands.

You smiled up at him, sheepish and unbelievably sweet.

He crossed his arms, raising his brows with an expecting look on his face, he wasn’t mad — could never be — but he wouldn’t let *you know that.

“Hey—,” You dragged out the ‘y’ with an awkward laugh. “,Morales. Funny ahh—,”

You sniffed and shifted to stand up straight again.

“,Funny seein’ you here.”

His smile grew as he watched you cringe at yourself, rolling his eyes and snarking at you.

“At my house?”

“More an apartment, you know? My personal preference, I’ll say—,”

“[Name].”

He titled his head down at you with a condescending look in his eyes. You laughed again, just as nervous as before, and swung the bag in your hand to occupy them.

“Yeah— Sorry.”

He bent over, leaning his elbows on his windowsill and letting his free hand hang over the edge, hiding the gun behind the wall.

He flashed it at you and you made a sour face, giving him a deadpanned look as he smirked.

“Really?”

“Not my fault you showed up without so much as a text.” His tone dipped lower, teasing your decisions to surprise someone you *knew to be a vigilante.

You pouted, puffing your cheeks up in dismay and crossing your arms, dropping the rock as you went. The bag shifting with your movements caught his attention and he gave it a questioning look before focusing back on you when you spoke.

“And here I thought I could come and surprise my best friend without a glock getting pulled on me.” You dramatically tipped your head up at him, exposing your neck and jawline for him to eye.

“Ooh, yeah — poor you, huh?” He bit his lip and watched you peek at him, fighting off a smile.

“Yes. Poor me. So poor, in fact — that I’m standing out here,” You looked to the left and he followed, both of you going quiet as someone left their apartment.

You awkwardly waved when they gave you a weird look. As soon as they were out of earshot, you lowered your voice to a harsh whisper and whined up at him. His fingers twitched at the expression you wore, watching you with a keen eye.

“,looking like a fucking psycho!”

“More like a schitzo. Talk’n to yo’self.”

“Miles!”

He snorted, turning to set the gun back in its place and returning to the window, he watched you look around again and tap your foot impatiently before you caught his eye once more.

“Here, I’ll buzz you up, Bambi.”

You gave him a curious look and begun to speak before he rushed out of your view, hearing you mutter to yourself —,

“Bambi?”

—

Going up to meet him wasn’t hard, neither was sneaking through his apartment, giggling with him when he was too caught up looking at you to watch where he was going, and ending up knocking his foot on his coffee table. He cursed into the dark room, a harsh whisper — before forgetting his pains when you snickered at him. Putting a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself and the other gripping your bag tighter. He watched the Moons light hit your eyes and make them sparkle something romantic, and when you offered him a questioned “You okay?”, he just laughed with you.

Being with you was so, so easy.

You both eventually stumbled into his room, shucking off your shoes by his door and sitting cross legged, facing each other on his bed.

Not before he rushed to hide the drawing of you while you were preoccupied with your shoes.

Short quips and poking insults were thrown at each others’ stupidity, throughout.

“Not my fault you weren’t paying attention!”

“Actually, it was.”

“What was that?”

“I said ‘I was’!”

You scoffed at him and rolled your eyes, “Liar, you were too caught up eyeing my bag!”

He smirked, voice low and smooth, “What’d you bring—? Protection?”

A sudden burst of laughter left you before he put a hand over your mouth, shushing you through his own gavelled chuckles.

You peeled his hand off your mouth by his wrist, holding it between you both and gave him a sly smile.

“You’re gonna want some real protection in a second.”

He raised his brows, turning his palm over to trace his fingers over your palm.

“Oh yeah?”

You hummed an affirmation before using your other hand to set down the bag. The one he had in his own going limp in his hold.

“Yup. But you won’t deny me.”

“I won’t?”

His accent curled smoothened over the words, dripping honey malt into your ears.

“Nuh uh.”

Another chuckle was granted at your antics before it suddenly ceased, only as soon as you pulled out the first item.

“Is that—,”

“Yeah.”

“And you want—“

“Yuh huh.”

“God, [Name]. Where did you even find this!” His hand dropped your own and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Watching him grab the mask with a scrunched up look on his face was worth it, though.

“It’s honestly pretty popular—,”

“We’re not doing this!” He glanced up at you through his lashes, and when he caught you already watching him, he shut down his fluttering heart by focusing on the item in hand.

“Oh, yes we are —! And there’s more!”

“Nah. No fuckin’ way.”

You bit your lip and rummaged through the bag again, and his attention was stolen by you once more.

Flame from a candle *you got him complimenting your features in a romantic light.

The longer he admired you, the more he realised he could never possibly do you justice. No still drawing could ever compare to the real thing.

Nothing could compare to you.

“Look! There’s even a hand mask! It has claws like you, it’s so cute—…”

Your voice faded in and out through his mind, more so focused on the way your lips moved than anything. On how your eyes kept flicking to look into his, exaggerated hand movements emphasising your excitement in a way he could only describe as endearing.

You were so soft, so sweet to him.

He couldn’t love you, he couldn’t let you love him.

Not with your innocence, your purity. Something so simple to have, and yet complicated to love.

He didn’t want to ruin you, to taint your view of this world — and of him.

Your candidness wasn’t built on naïveté, but trust, and hope for virtue. You believed in good, believed that not everything was black and white — and that some things were.

There was simplicity in you, that could only be admired by a troubled mind. Those with troubled existence longed to have the tranquility of a partner rid of pain. To have someone they could shield from the depths they’d travelled, and to never let them lie witness to the bottom of a raging sea.

He’d never let you feel pain like he has.

And yet, he can’t help but feel he’d be one to cause it.

The things he did were dangerous, the life he lived was worse. He’d get killed, or get you killed.

He couldn’t do that to you.

You gently grabbed his hands, snapping him out of his spiralling as you examined them.

“You might not be able to do the hand mask—…” You looked up at him again, a thoughtful squint to your eyes. “Got a lot of cuts.”

You looked down again and his breath escaped him, Miles watched your nose twitch as you considered his wounds, his hand shaking under your touch.

“Oh! Wait I—“

Your face lit up once more, hand dipping into the bag and searching around for a moment with an excited gleam.

“Mm?”

He tilted his head in question, and when you glanced back at him, he averted his eyes to the bag. Right as you pulled out Prowler themed bandaids.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

You laughed again, giggling at the mere coincidence.

“I didn’t even—,” You choked a little and tested up, laughing harder and trying to keep quiet.

“,I didn’t even go in to get these! They were just there and I couldn’t not get them.”

You squinted in laughter and his thick chuckle made your smile widen.

“Ohh,” He dragged out the word, a disbelieving lull to his tone. “,Yeah sure, Chiquita.”

Your laughter died down and his find stare came to your attention, rendering you flustered for a solid second. Your grip on his fingers twitching.

“Here, I’ll—,” You distracted yourself, trying to rid your face from any sign of crush.

Silly, childish crush (That you wouldn’t dream of trying to get rid of).

You grabbed the box of band-aids with one hand, other gently placing his injured one over your knee, mumbling as you went.“,Put these on..”

“Yeah..” He spoke breathlessly, staring at you without an ounce of shame.

You ignored the flutter of hope in your chest, focusing on unwrapping the adhesive — and taking care of him.

—

You smoothed the mask over his face, running your thumb over his cheek bone to straighten out a crease.

“Stop making faces—!”

He snorted, lip curling up at your grumpy demand.

“Lo siento, cordero.”

"I'm sorry, lamb."

“Just—.” You leaned in closer to him, subconsciously being drawn to him.

His, now band-aid adorned, hands slipped up to your hips, Miles not even realising he was doing it until he felt your flesh under his calloused hands.

He didn’t move them, guilt being outweighed by his indulgence. He could focus on the way your hands lost their steady hold, how you had to refocus to continue fixing his stupid mask.

How you looked so good, so sweet, being this close to him.

Felt so warm under his rough fingers.

“Just?”

He went to raise his eyebrows, before schooling his expression again. You gave him an approving look at the action.

“It was rhetoric.”

“Wh—?” He snorted, eyes crinkling around the edges.

“Yeah? ‘Just’ — Rhetoric?”

You bit your lip and hummed. “Yup.”

“Oh, so sorry— Should’ve known.”

He pinched the skin along your hip and you gave a yelp and playfully bat his hand away.

“Play fair!”

“I am.”

His hands slid up your thighs again, you scoffed but didn’t stop him. And he watched your face, tracing your features like he’d done a thousand times before, he let himself have this.

Just for tonight, he swears.

You turned from him slightly, shuffling through the bag again to look for another item. Purple lip masks, it wasn’t inherently “Prowler”, but it was cute.

“[Name].”

“Mm?” You hummed, glancing at him before finding the lip mask and pulling it out, shaking it a little in a cheer.

“[Name].”

You looked at him more intently now, curiosity overpowering your urge to smooth out the crease he’s now made by talking.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

Your voice was light, worried but not enough to be off putting.

Miles sighed through a stuttered breath, nails dragging over your flesh in small circles, and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind him.

You watched his eyes drop, focusing not on your face, but on where he touched you — a nervous glint in his eye that you hadn’t seen before.

“I find it hard to talk to you.”

His eyes snapped back up, mask scrunching with his face.

“What?” Voice confused, and a little tired — like he knew this was coming, he knew you’d get tired.

*But that’s not what you were getting at.

Your skin prickled once more when he spread his hands out, disregarding his calm circling to grip your waist, his fingers sliding just under the hem of your shirt.

“It’s hard, Yknow?—,” You fiddled with the packet in your hand and you swear you felt him tug your hips closer, like a plea for you not to leave him.

“,—I feel like every time we’re together, I’m this close to telling you everything I’m thinking.”

The tremors in your body grew larger, shaking in nerve as you ran your tongue along your lip.

“Like I trust you so much I have to hold back. — And it’s hard to.”

You met his gaze, watching his lips part in batted breath.

“You make me feel safe.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even move. Just stared at you in silent apprehension.

You shifted on your knees, squirming at his quietness.

“Please say something.”

You whispered to him, backing down to a reticent tone.

He took a breath, still considering you, his look much softer now. You watched his face flash again, bringing a rather domestic look to his face.

He sighed out the aforementioned gasp, and his hands clenched again, you felt it all.

His warmth against your face, his hands along your body. The nerves under his skin digging into your own, bringing both of you into an interlinked bundle of edge.

“You know I—..”

He stuttered, voice breaking.

“Nunca te lo confesarè.”

His voice was small, smaller than you’d ever heard it. Like he was trying to tell you something, but could only force the words out.

“I won’t be able to.”

“You don’t need to.”

Miles watched as you dropped the packet in your hands, the lack of noise palpable once the rustling was gone.

He could only look on as you bring a hand up to smooth over his shoulder, and slipped the other to his jaw.

“You don’t need to, Miles.”

He felt like crying, holding back emotions so strong his body shuddered.

“You don’t need to say a thing,”

Your fingers ran over a scar and he melted further into you, leaning forward in your hold, his own hands grabbing at you in a firm, but never hurtful, hold.

“,Not to me.”

You watched as the man above you shrunk, losing the tension in his body the longer you held him.

His eyes closed, savouring the feeling of your softened body.

“Tell me you understand.”

He furrowed his brows, shyly opening his eyes, his heart to you.

“I understand, I do.”

He pressed forward, crowding over you. His head dropped closer to your ear, leaning his head on your shoulder despite the face mask still being on. You hadn’t even cared for your now wet shirt, dragging your hands down to his forearms and let him make the pace. Keep him comfortable no matter how bad you wanted to kiss his woes away.

You would be the person he could lean on, whether you mean that metaphorically or not.

“Sleep here tonight?”

It’s not like you hadn’t before. You and Miles having slept in the same bed plenty of times prior, at an all time high when his dad passed, and he could barely sleep without you. It’d just be different now, better.

“Stay with you?”

“Stay with me.”

You hummed, leaning closer so his upper body was dependent solely on yours. His hands slipped further around you, in a sweet hug, and yours traced his arms and neck, dragging nails down scarred skin.

“Okay.”

—

Everything was stripped down, both the face masks and the wrapping around his bloodied hands, although the Cat-Vigilante themed bandaids still remained.

Miles had basically fell asleep, getting calmer by the minute when you rubbed his shoulders, the tension in his muscles leaving him more relaxed than he’d been in years.

He was breathing softly against your neck and his hands lay limp, wrists hanging off your thighs.

You shifted, slipping the bag full of both trash and stuff you still hadn’t unpacked off the bed, cringing at the rustle and double checking Miles to make sure he hadn’t been startled.

You still needed to move him though, gently using your free hand, the one not cradling his head to your neck, to lift the corner of the cover so you could lay him down.

He sniffles and you freeze, cringing.

“Mm.. Quit movin’…”

You huff amusedly at his grumpy tone. Watching as he shoved his face deeper into you, inhaling slowly. His lips brushed your throat and you worried he could feel the race of your pulse under them.

“Miles, baby lay down.”

“You’re s’ warm.”

Another small laugh, airy and light, left you.

You moved to lie down with him, and he begrudgingly pulled himself away to get under the covers, dragging his body to tuck under his quilts.

He eyed you from under heavy lids, and furrowed his brows, unhappy — before grabbing the front of your shirt and tugging you towards him.

You followed his hands with a goofy smile and he let himself grin back.

“C’mere, Chiquita.”

He settled his head under your chin, tangling his legs with yours and pulling the covers back over you both.

His arm slithered over your waist, and up your shirt, cold hands smoothing against your warm back.

Soft breaths tickled your skin and you let yourself relax, letting his rising chest lull you to sleep.

He pressed soft kisses to your neck, touch as light as a butterflies kiss.

“Eres toda una belleza.”

He kissed your skin again, muttering words of admiration to you that got more drowsy by the second. After a minute, turning into incoherent mumbles and soft tones.

You yawned lightly, and felt your own eyelids droop. “Go sleep, Miles.”

You kissed his crown, and he sighed against you, dragging his head to look up at you and fighting off sleep.

He kissed your jaw one last time and you gave him a smile that could’ve flatlined him had he be a lesser man.

“Goodnight, [Name].”

You slowly blinked at him.

Your glossy eyes suddenly looked the best they ever had, and your skin glowed with a new found love he couldn’t describe if it killed him.

Your voice was softer than he thought possible and he felt like he had the first time he’d met you.

A small boy smitten. Riddled with an infatuation at such heights he didn’t understand. Love too big for his body, too big for his heart. So much of it that it spilled from his eyes, leaking into the tears he shed. Filled his veins, and pumped throughout his body. It dug it’s way into his bones and set in the hollow like the marrow that lived there.

It was too much for him, so he gave it to you.

And you took it.

You took him.

“Goodnight, Miles.”

—

BRO THIS TOOK SO LONG LMFAO

also ao3 is so fucking funny

[thisismeracing]

His protector | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!comedian!reader (she/her)

Word count: 0.4k

Genre: regular imagine + smau (overall fluff)

Warnings: not proofread; mentions of Ferrari's disastrous strategy; fluff;

Summary: Yn is a comedian, who happens to date the f1 driver Charles Leclerc and who loves to joke around about how horrendous Ferrari is, but beware: she is the only one who can laugh at her boyfriend’s disastrous races. No one pokes fun at Charles in front of her, especially not on live TV.

A/n: This request has been sitting in my inbox forever because I'm a freaking perfectionist who loved the idea but wanted to get it to be perfect. It's my first time mixing social media au and regular images, I don't know if I'll be doing it again, but I hope you guys like it! Anon who requested: thank you sm for being so patient and kind with your request, it means a lot. I hope it's a bit like you imagined it to be. Every piece I write here it’s a new experience, so your feedback, comments, and asks are more than welcome. *mwah* 🤍

A/n2: A huge shoutout to Leri ( @elitebarzal ) for helping me with this (she was the one who sent me the jokes and helped me with the story's structure). ILY, Le!

A/n3: None of these jokes are originally mine, they're all from the internet, just like all the pictures used are from Pinterest. The writing, however, is all me, and I do not consent for it to be published anywhere else!

Based on this request.

see my masterlist | check here if you want to be on my new taglist

you can support my writing by liking, reblogging, and leaving a comment

“Why did Charles Leclerc take up gardening?” Yn asks eyes focused on the main camera in the studio, ready to deliver her joke. Anthony, Yn’s colleague, and part of the Saturday Night Live cast, was already trying to hold back his laughter when she added, “Because he wanted to be in "pole" position at least once this season.” 

The crowd hollered in laughter, and Anthony almost couldn’t hold his own back.

“This one got me, I gotta give it to you that this is way funnier than whatever I had for tonight,” he bantered.

“It’s a live show for a reason, right?” she winked and turned back to the camera. 

Yn was dating Charles for over a year now, and he was a constant topic of her jokes, the audience, and fans were used to her always roasting him, but everyone knew it to be just part of their relationship. Yn being sassy and playful as she was would make fun of whoever she was close enough to know her jokes wouldn’t come off as offensive. 

Charles loved that side of her. It was nice to have someone who would cry with you but also make you laugh and take the hardships of life with a degree of lightness. 

It was race week, Yn was in the paddock and it wasn’t uncommon for some channels to call upon her for a quick interview about her thoughts on the race. She usually wouldn’t mind, she would be polite as usual, answer their questions, sometimes even tell a joke or two and then follow her path back to Charles if he was free to have her around. 

This time, however, this interview seemed to stress her more than to amuse her. 

“We all know he can do better-”

“Can he?!” Yn asked, brows furrowing a challenging look on her face. “With Ferrari’s current strategy, I don’t think he can.” 

“Well, most people seem to think he could, and I tend to believe that maybe that’s right. It’s not always the team’s fault.” 

“Eric, have you tried driving a formula one car?” 

The reporter gaped, taken aback by Yn’s question, before answering, “Well, no, I’m a journalist.”

“If you’re so sure he could do better, then maybe you should go there and try driving the car. See which position you get,” she kept her instance, lips pursed in a tight line. 

The reporter chuckled, trying to light the situation, but Yn didn’t, and everyone watching the live interview saw the tension in the air. Everyone got the message: nobody downplays her boyfriend in front of her. There’s a line between making fun when it’s known Charles is comfortable and openly talking about how he could do better in a sports program. 

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @crimeshowjunkie @iloveyou3000morgan @saintlewis @fdl305 @chaoticevilbakugo @carojasmin2204 @wondergirl101ks @smiithys

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 407: Wait Why Are You Running Away

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan figured out how to control his quirk upgrade and was totally chill and normal about it. Definitely not terrifying at all. He actually spent the entire chapter smiling and laughing like the wholesome little boy he is. I don’t know why Kid For One is so freaked out about it. He even politely introduced himself using his childhood nickname. Clearly he just wants to be friends with you, KFO!

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “sorry to keep you waiting, here’s the AFO and Yoichi flashback you ordered at long last” and proceeds to serve a nightmarish stew of HUMAN MISERY and RATS and STABBING and CARNAGE and SO MUCH MURDER and THE SINGLE MOST FUCKED-UP CASE OF CODEPENDENCY ANYONE HAS EVER WRITTEN. I was not even remotely prepared for any of this, and if anyone else claims that they were, I will call you a liar to your face. If this chapter had a mouth it would scream. Or just sob, ceaselessly and uncontrollably. I’m really glad Horikoshi is on break next week because that man needs to take a fucking nap. My god.

okay WOW

anyone else read the first two words and just immediately say to themselves, “oh okay, so it’s gonna be one of those chapters”? I mean, I guess we were due for a darker chapter after last week’s Kacchan Comedy Tour. but idk, I just wasn’t expecting “homeless sick prostitute with a drinking problem” levels of dark

AND SHE’S PREGNANT?!

what exactly is this manga rated again? doesn’t this backstory seem just a little bit raw for the impressionable kiddos??

has anyone actually checked in on Horikoshi recently? you know, just to make sure he is okay??

what a fun and wholesome manga this is

the lil baby arm covered in blood with the AFO hole on the palm. lying next to the dead mom hand. what an image to sear into our minds. I guess it’s been a while since he killed any dogs. gotta keep us on our toes somehow

also wasn’t expecting AFO and Yoichi to be twins! that puts an interesting spin on their relationship, because it’s usually a closer bond than even regular siblings. especially with all of that delightful shared trauma from a young age!!

yes, exactly

ohhhh this chapter is gonna hurt me, isn’t it. okay. ooooooookay. let’s do this

OH I’M SORRY, THERE’S MORE?!

Horikoshi my dude. you do realize that their mom dying in childbirth and the two of them just barely surviving and growing up as street orphans would have already been MORE than tragic enough, backstory-wise. you did not have to turn this into a freaking horror show with RATS TRYING TO EAT THEIR NEWBORN SELVES jesus christ

and THAT’S where you chose to put a one year timeskip?!

what the fuck am I reading here, you guys. no please tell me, I am actually desperate to understand

so the narrator is saying that some of the quirks manifested later in life, in “pubescent and pre-pubescent stages”, which is interesting because it’s the first time I can recall hearing about someone actually manifesting a quirk that late. maybe Deku’s old OFA cover story was more plausible than I realized

anyway so eventually it occurred to everyone that they should maybe freaking study this shit, idk. and eventually the researchers concluded that the superpowers came from a new gene that apparently isn’t human. and upon hearing that, society apparently lost its freaking mind. which is fascinating to me because it implies that the turning point wasn’t actually the superpowers themselves, but the realization of what it meant

like, so they were apparently fine with it when they thought it was a “mysterious disease”, but somehow it hit different when they learned it wasn’t actually a sickness at all, but instead the Next Step in Evolution. and it became an “us vs them” thing, as opposed to a “we have to cure these poor people” thing. damn

anyway so now Japan is a dystopia and we’re cutting to a big crowd of merc-looking dudes who are getting ready to attack some “meta freaks”, how lovely

but who is this figure in the shadows

I ask politely, as if it wasn’t already beyond obvious that this is AFO about to wreck some people’s shit

ohhhhh my god lmao

hopefully Katsuki and Deku can take the present day AFO out before he winds up looking like this. because this little fella is clearly demonic and idk if anyone can stop him

you all don’t understand. you need to run the fuck away right now

oh shit it’s already too late for them

it’s too late for any of us. it’s over. it’s all fucking over

((((；゜Д゜)))

AFO I am putting the manga down. I am backing away slowly with my hands in the air. I mean you no harm. please for the love of god have mercy

holy

“you see, we told you he wasn’t human” okay Scientific Research Group, you know what?? you win this round I guess

“HE WAS LITERALLY EVIL FROM BIRTH” HORIKOSHI SERIOUSLY ARE YOU OKAY??

HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY is literally the most terrifying sentence I have ever read

what the entire fuck

it’s a gorgeous sunny mid-November afternoon outside my window. but no matter how hard it tries, the light cannot reach this place

what kind of moron would throw a can of soda at him. officially the stupidest person we have ever seen in this manga

OH MY GOD OF COURSE IT’S HIM LMAO

(ETA: how come baby Yoichi has clothes that fit him perfectly but baby AFO is just stomping around wearing a tablecloth.)

BABY YOICHI. OH MY GOD. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GROW UP TO BE SANE AND KIND AND GOOD. THAT’S MY QUESTION THAT I NEED ANSWERED RIGHT NOW. YOU ARE LITERALLY A MIRACLE. YOU ARE AN IMPOSSIBILITY, DO YOU KNOW THAT

small and weak, but also so, so cute. all of the cuteness genes went straight to him. no wonder AFO was jealous

(ETA: just want to press pause for a second to speculate about what type of twins AFO and Yoichi are, since it has some relevance to the story, and especially to the OFA/AFO quirk lore. so! at first glance the two of them would appear to be fraternal twins, just based on the fact that they have very different appearances, and also the fact that Yoichi doesn’t have the AFO quirk – no holes in his hands, etc. identical twins are born from the same fertilized egg, so in theory they would both have the same sequence of DNA, which means Yoichi would have had the same quirk as AFO. but that doesn’t appear to be the case. so all of that points to them being fraternal, not identical.

on the other hand, there is one piece of evidence in this chapter that does support them being identical twins, and that’s the fact that per the narration, AFO absorbed most of the nutrients from their mother. a few minutes of google fu informed me that this condition is relatively rare, and only happens in cases where two twins share a placenta, which typically is only the case for identical twins. HOWEVER, for what it’s worth, there have also been rare instances where two fraternal twin placentas fuse together and become a single placenta. AND this apparently also increases the chances of one of the twins gaining more of the nutrients and causing the other twin to have a lower birth weight.

so based on the evidence here, my conclusion is that the two of them are most likely fraternal twins with a case of placental fusion. besides, you can’t tell me that stealing his baby brother’s placenta while the two of them are literally still in the womb doesn’t sound like exactly the type of BS that fetus!AFO would pull, lol.)

HEY!?!

okay?!?!?! well to be fair he did throw that soda at him

oh my god this is so fucked up. in like the best and worst way possible

I genuinely couldn’t ask for a better AFO backstory. it’s so incredibly twisted, and you actually do feel sorry for him. or at least I do. but it’s also beyond clear that this kid was FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL REASON right from the get go. zero goodness in him. literally doesn’t see other people as people. sees them as possessions only. things to rule over. not other thinking, feeling human beings. and that includes his own little brother

but. even if it’s not actually what I would call love, there’s still... attachment, there. it’s the closest he can get to actually caring about someone. guh. just, somehow they have both managed to humanize him, and at the same time made him less human than ever. this manga, man. this fucking manga, though

lmao and here we go. Captain Hero

you know, all those times that I made fun of AFO for not knowing how to read, I never suspected that the twist in his backstory would be that he LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO READ dfksjdlfkjslkdf

but seriously though. because Yoichi appears to be self-taught, and I can’t see AFO having the patience for that, and CLEARLY no one else was around to teach him, sooooo...

oh my goodness it’s actually getting wholesome up in here

what a good fucking boy. poor AFO. fuck me, I can’t help it. it’s not your fault you’re the world’s greatest monster you poor bastard

now we’re cutting to THREE YEARS LATER. okay

is he going to declare war on the glowing baby

typical teenager concerned about nothing but likes and view counts. AFO you would be so much happier if you stopped worrying about all of that and just focused on your own growth

oh, lol. well that was quick

(ETA: r.i.p. Damien.)

“this guy had more instagram followers than me. so I killed him” honey. sweetie pie. you need therapy

omfg

all this time I was wondering who AFO’s middle school lit teacher was who had failed so spectacularly at teaching him reading comprehension. and it was YOICHI ALL ALONG. omg

“and, presumably, that’s how it always was and always will be.” dude. can you imagine listening to AFO’s oral book report on A Tale of Two Cities. “ahem. it was the Best of Times. the end” buddy noooooooo

it was at that moment when Yoichi knew, etc. etc.

oh my GOD I scrolled down to the next panel right after this one and I just IMMEDIATELY DIED LAUGHING

“WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID” ffffffffffffffff I fucking can’t omfg

NOW THIS HUSSY IS STEALING HIS BROTHER AWAY FROM HIM NOOOOOOO

HE’S HIS!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!! THAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!!

oh my god the hands. so wait, is this just the standard symbolic BnHA handholding, or are there More Levels To This. when exactly did Yoichi pass OFA on to Kudou. like is that why the sudden close-up and all that? omg

WHAT!!!!

OH THAT’S THE END, HUH? THAT’S THE END RIGHT THERE, AND THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS. I SEE. OKAY THEN. EXCUSE ME WHILE I PUT MY LAPTOP DOWN AND GO INTO THE NEXT ROOM AND SCREAM INTO A PILLOW

oh my god. and break next week too. this is what you guys have been dealing with this entire time huh. I understand your feelings now. godfuckingdammit lmao

[the-s1lly-corner]

not sure if you’ve done this already but how would slenderman react to the reader hugging his tentacles? and generally showing affection to it.

Reader who hugs n kisses slendermans tentacles!

dont think i did anything like before so yahoo! honestly as much as i love slenderman, thinking of a whole boat load of ideas over the course of like. 9? years, this never crossed my mind. your brain, huge

its not often that you see his tentacles out, usually theyre for his hunting as well as defense.. and to look more intimidating. you know, generally not something that he wants you to be around for..

but i think every now and then they creep out during down time with you, perhaps during a cuddling session with your tall monster boyfriend? or maybe you even get him to indulge in "play" (not that kind of play get your mind out of the gutter) and his tentacles slip out, like you guys playing simple games

the image of someone playing tag or hide and seek with the forest demon is making me chuckle, something much needed post mini cry/freak out session LMAO

personally i like to think that he can only half way control his tentacles. like yeah sure when he needs them they're out, but for the most part they do their own thing, you know?

set up down, lets get to the actual request. his tentacles are colder than him, and admin is personally torn on making them slimy or not... perhaps slightly so? like juuuuuuust enough to be just a little oily but nothing insane, kind of feels like your hands after you just put lotion on them. smooth, too

very cold. i know i mentioned that theyre colder than him, but its like ice cold. so...

basically he doesnt expect you to show any love to this part of him, so hes thoroughly confused when you grab one of them and gently press your lips to it.. then let go. then grab another and give it a kiss as well

cue a confused head tilt before his voice comes into your head to ask what on earth youre doing

isnt it uncomfortable, with the slight ooze? isnt it too cold? doesnt it at least taste a little off?

torn about it, because on one hand hes used these things to kill. but on the other hand he mostly kills in order to protect his space and to sustain his body, and admin likes thinking that he sometimes gets a bit of guilt. call it him resenting his own existence and simply wanting to be left alone while having a natural curiosity for the world around him even though he only really destroys the life around him

also he doesnt like giving you stuff from victims, and i think he would have similar feelings about his tentacles

and yet... he cant deny, that he can hold you closer with them, that he can keep you nearby with them... and that you love him, and every part of him. undeniably, you do. i dont know, its something that when i think about it, its sweet

this creature is full of resentment, for himself and the world he was put in as well as the one who made him (zalgo cough cough au stuff) but here you are

assuming the reader is a human i think it hits even harder, because youre something that hes built to wreck and destroy. and yet youve given him pause, and that was enough for you to win him over

and you never stop surprising him

im getting off topic, but im just a sap for concepts like this, you know?

"its rotten work," "not to me... not if its you" but its you and slenderman, basically

i think the first few times when you start showing his extra appendages affection he pulls them away from you, maybe even forcing them back and tucking them away

but i think over time he melts into it and accepts it...

oh how cruel it was, for the universe to give this reclusive creature a sense of longing, which has been exasperated now that hes gotten a taste of it first hand