#and whether anger was warranted or not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

norrizzandpia · 5 months

Note

Can you please write exes to lovers angst with lando

Y’all know the way to my heart with these angst requests

A Second Chance (LN4)

Summary: Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?

Warnings: lots of fights, language, literal screaming matches, lando breaking y/n’s heart while he’s drunk, this ones hella rough when it comes to angst, whata rollercoaster, HAPPY ENDING THO YALL JUST BUCKLE UP FOR THE RIDE AND TRUST ME

Note: i decided to really play with y’all here because you don’t end up knowing what caused them to breakup until the very end, so enjoy 6,000 words of subtle hints and you on the edge of your seat bc I’m evil 😚

Some things were better left unsaid. That’s the mantra Lando repeated to himself every time he felt the urge to pick up the phone and pour his heart out to the girl he let get away.

Some things are better left unsaid.

He was sick of the words, wanting to rip them out of his mind, out of his mouth every time he uttered their syllables. His thumb laid so close to her phone number, he was frightened one wrong move would make the decision for him.

All he saw, not just in that moment but every moment, was her face as he spewed off words of anger, violent insults that held no truth to them.

He wanted to apologize, yearned to hear her breathing as he said the things he had rehearsed in the mirror for God knows how long. There was blood on his hands, her blood, the blood of her being when he killed her spirit and the character he had fallen in love with. He couldn’t live with that.

Couldn’t live with the knowledge he had destroyed the beauty of her happiness, the beauty of who she had been.

Selfish, maybe, but he called her anyway. Whether the apology was for her or for him, he wasn’t sure, he just needed to know she knew that he never meant for those things to tumble from his mouth. He never meant to tear her down when he had spent the entirety of their relationship building her up.

The ringing sounded, it blaring loudly in the quiet of his room. He stared at her contact photo, he never changed it. The picture was one his friend had taken of her as she gazed upon him at the Silverstone Grand Prix, when he got his podium. She was smiling up, looking at him as if he held her entire life right in the palm of his hands.

She had loved him, put her heart in his hands, and he had thrown it back in her face like he was disgusted by it.

His mind was taken back to the moment when, after one ring, the call went straight to voicemail.

Fuck it, he thought, I’ve already called her once.

So, he tried again.

One ring, then voicemail.

Again.

One ring, then voicemail.

Again.

One ring, then voicemail.

By the end of his calling spree, he was sitting up in his bed, the sheets falling down his toned chest as he stared at the brightness emitting from his phone. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he searched up why he was only getting one ring.

The answer that popped up stopped the world around him. He threw his phone down to the side, it falling harshly onto the floor. He stormed from his bed, ripping open his door and throwing on a random hoodie strewn about his couch. His eyes glazed over as he tied his shoes and left the apartment, beginning to run. His running was in vain, however, as he was only trying to run from the thing that got him into this situation. Himself.

The phone stayed behind, lingering on the floor with its screen cracked yet still displaying what had set Lando off in the first place.

The Google search engine painfully informed him of Y/n blocking him.

—

“How have you been since the breakup?” Max said softly, looking at his best friend with gentle eyes.

Lando looked down to his lap, “I’m doing fine. Getting by.”

Max’s quietness lingered like he knew something.

“What is it?” Lando asked spitefully, sick of feeling like his loved ones were tip toeing around him.

Max sighed, “You’re not sleeping.”

“How do you know that?”

“Life360 shows me where you’ve gone in the last twenty-four hours, Lando. It also gives me notifications when you leave your house. At first, I wanted to stay out of it, but you’re doing it every night, going to random parks and staying there for hours. What are you doing?”

Lando smacked his hand on the table out of frustration, strangers sat close to them glancing over suspiciously, “So, you’re monitoring me now?”

Max scoffed, “Yeah! Your family and your friends are worried for you.”

“Well, don’t.” Lando gave him a pointed look.

Max shoved his face into his hands, “It’s not that fucking easy, Lando. Everyone thought you two were going to get married. You had a ring. Then, all of a sudden, you two ended. The people that love you are obviously going to be wondering about you when shit like that comes out of left field.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Lando began, face heating up, “You don’t think I look at the engagement ring everyday and wonder where I would be today? Maybe engaged to her like I had always wanted? You don’t think I know this shit? You don’t think I have to live with it, sleep with it, exist with it?”

It dawns on Max as he listens to Lando’s every word, “You’re going for walks in the night? To get away from thinking about it when you’re trying to sleep? Trying to distract yourself?”

Lando’s eyes look down once more, “Running. I’ve been running.”

In a rare form of physical affection, Max leans over and lays his hand over his friend’s, “What happened that night?”

Lando flinches, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

His hand is heavy on top of Lando’s as he tries again, “Lando, I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand. What the fuck happened? When are you going to be comfortable talking about it? It’s been five months.”

Something fiery triggers within Lando and Max knows it’s the reminder of how long he’s gone without her, “I know how fucking long it’s been.”

At the gridded teeth and hostile tone, Max relents. He sits back in his chair just when Lando’s gaze is caught behind him. His head turns to see what’s got Lando and he’s met with a woman that looks identical to Y/n.

He breathes out, turning back around to tilt his head at his best friend. Max opens his mouth to say something, but Lando interrupts him by the loud screech of his chair being pushed away from him.

He watches in horror and disappointment as Lando walks over to the woman and begins flirting with her. That smile, which was once reserved only for Y/n, is now exploited to get one singular taste of something like her, however fleeting.

In no time, Lando’s trading numbers with her and returning to the table. He sees the way Max looks at him, an expression that makes him hate himself more, and picks up his things, “If you’re not going to support me, sit across from me and patronize me for everything that’s happened, then I’m fucking out.”

Max laughs in disbelief, “Lando, I don’t know what the fuck happened! Maybe if I did, I could actually help you instead of this fucked up coping mechanism you’ve developed of sleeping with women that look like her.”

Lando snarls at him, stomping off and out of the establishment, texting the new number he’d gained immediately and asking when they were free to come to his apartment.

Max watches him through the window, anger at him dissipating and worry taking over once more for the boy he used to know.

The waitress comes by and drops the check off, three digits staring back at Max.

—

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INVITE HER!” Lando screams at Charlotte, nostrils flaring as he shoots daggers into her soul.

“WHAT’S THE FUCKING PROBLEM? CAN’T FUCKING FACE YOU EX OF EIGHT MONTHS?!” Charlotte yells.

Lando counters, “YOU KNOW I FEEL ABOUT HER! HOW I FELT ABOUT HER! I DON’T FUCKING WANT HER IN THE CROWD OF THE NEW CAR LAUNCH!”

Charlotte rolls her eyes, “WELL, GET OVER IT! IT’S HAPPENING!”

“I’M THE DRIVER, I RUN THE SHOW! I SAY SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE, SHE GETS TAKEN OFF THE INVITE!”

“SHE’S ALREADY BEEN INVITED, DUMBASS! WE CAN’T RETRACT THE INVITATION NOW. IT WOULD LOOK BAD.”

“I DON’T CARE! FUCK, CHARLOTTE, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” Spit flies from his mouth, his volume so loud it jostles the walls.

Charlotte, being the strong woman she was and fed up with Lando’s recent behavior, fires back, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT SHE’S ON THE AUTOMATIC INVITE LIST! YOU KNOW THIS! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!”

He lets out a loud grunt, turning around in the room like it’s closing in on him. He’s so in his mind as it suffocates him with memories of her, he steps toward the wall and almost puts his fist through it. However, right before his hand comes in contact, he hesitates.

He can feel Charlotte’s horrified eyes on him as he turns around, chest heaving from the unreleased anger. He can’t fully meet her stare, knowing it’ll break him further.

However, that doesn’t matter as she puts her hands on her hips and whispers, “Who even are you anymore?”

She slams the door on her way out and Lando can hear her lash out at his father, detailing how he needs to get his son in check if Lando wants any kind of continued future in F1. They go back and forth for a moment, Adam standing up for his son in a time where there’s no defending able to be done. His father reminds Charlotte of the relationship she’s cultivated with Lando, reminding her of how she once referred to him as her son, and she’s ready with her heartbreaking answer: he’s not the same person she once knew.

That gives Adam no room to fight back, silence overtaking the atmosphere for a moment before he’s entering the room. Lando sits on one of the many office room chairs, head hanging low as he picks at his fingernails.

Adam sits in the one closest to him, breathing slowly as he tries to gather what he wants to say.

“Lando, what happened that night?” He repeats, reminding him of the countless conversations they’ve had that started with that question and ended with Lando refusing to talk about it.

His son shakes his head, something dying inside Adam once more, “I told you. I’m not talking about it.”

A moment passes before Adam snaps, “Lando! I know you’re hurting and I’m so sorry. But, Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t go on like this forever! This isn’t healthy! She’s not coming back! She’s stopped communicating because she doesn’t want to hear from you! You’re going to need to move on sometime!”

Lando stands abruptly from his seat, his father’s words hitting him hard, “You have no fucking right to say that! You don’t know what’s going through her mind!”

Adam stands to get in his face, “No, but I do know you two were happy, she was happy, and you were in love, and then it was over! People don’t fall out of a love like that if someone didn’t fuck up royally!”

Lando moves to the door, “I don’t want to hear this anymore.”

Adam grabs his arm before he can leave, staring at him with a stone cold gaze, “You keep pushing people away, treating people like shit, and you’ll ruin your career.”

“Who said I even cared about my career anymore?”

—

As much as he hates it, Lando’s eyes immediately search for her once he and Oscar are let into the room. The new car sits under a drape, a crowd of people standing around it, and, even with all the exciting things around him, he looks for the greatest heartbreak of his life.

He wants to see how she is, see if her eyes are as sunken as his are, if her body is as thin as his. Yet, he fails to see her. He knows she’s here, having seen her acceptance of the invitation on the guest list.

He’s being pulled to the front of the room by PR members, their pushes making him stumble into Oscar’s side as he keeps his gaze locked on the sea of people in front of him.

Time goes by slowly, the ceremony moving easily with applause when Oscar and him roll back the material covering the racing car.

They’re in the midst of an interview, microphones held tightly in their hands as they converse with the reporter.

He’s still distracted, his eyes still searching throughout the party to see her, but he’s called back when Oscar nudges his shoulder, “Sorry, what?”

The reporter smiles, “You’ve just gone through a break up and it seems she’s here. Does that say you two ended on good terms?”

He cries of laughter in his head. The idea that they ended on good terms is the funniest thing he’s heard in a while.

He puts on his fake smile, though, nodding strongly like this isn’t a question that has broken his soul, “Yeah! Y/n and I still talk from time to time. She supports me and I support her.”

He feels as if Oscar is staring at him, as if the entire room is staring at him, as he lies through his teeth. Y/n and him haven’t spoken in a year, her having cut off all contact from the very beginning.

The interview continues, nonetheless, with the journalist accepting his answer without question.

Once they’re done, Lando feels sick. Sick of trying to salvage his image, sick of having to appear at these functions, sick of wanting her back and knowing she’ll never let him in again. He excuses himself quickly, mumbling about needing to use the restroom, before dashing off down an empty hallway and locking himself in a stall.

He sits on the toilet, racing suit falling over the edge of the porcelain bowl as he lays his head in his hands.

He breathes heavily, lungs not taking in enough air, and he feels as if the first tears are about to fall when the door opens and the conversation of two men floods through.

“They broke up, you know?” One of the men states as they begin looking at themselves in the mirror, Lando watching them through the cracks of his stall.

The other one nods, seemingly excited, “Yeah, I’ve never been happier. She’s so hot, we finally have a chance.”

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together. Who are they talking about?

“I know, mate. I saw her tonight. I think she’s still here. You saw that orange dress she’s in? Hot as fuck. It really does justice to that body of hers.”

Lando grimaces at their words.

However, they continue, revealing more about their topic of conversation this time, “Yeah, one hundred percent. Y/n Y/l/n has never looked better. I saw her walk in and I was ready to fuck her instantly.”

The color drains from Lando’s face when her name slips past their lips, their previous words having an entirely different impact on him now. He sees red at their vulgar words, pulling himself from the stall and walking out with a dangerous, cold air to him.

The two men stop quickly, looking at each other in the mirror when Lando sidles up in between them. Beginning to wash his hands, he makes eye contact with both of them.

“Having a nice conversation here, boys?”

The two of them gulp, clearly nervous at the man’s presence. They say nothing, rather letting Lando continue.

“You know, we may not be together anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’ll get with you two. She has standards and, after being with her for five years, I can tell you: you two aren’t it. Keep dreaming, though, yeah? That’s how I got to where I am now, making millions of dollars a year and such.”

He waltzes out, throwing out the paper towel he had grabbed in the middle of his words and nodding at them.

Suddenly, as he stands in the quiet hallway, his demeanor has shifted. He feels lighter. Consciously, he doesn’t know why, but, subconsciously, he knows it’s because he just asserted his dominance over her, his possession. Reminding the two men of how long he was with her, how long he had her, a duration of time they’ll never see, mended his pain for a minute or two.

It comes back quickly, though, when he turns the corner and runs into the infamous papaya colored dress that had laid on the floor of his bedroom many times before. He halts, so does she, and for a moment, the two of them keep their eyes trained on the other’s clothes, not wanting to look up and face something they aren’t ready to face.

Although, cruelly, that moment inevitably comes and Lando’s breath is taken from his lungs at how radiant she stands before him. His eyes trail over her face, the tape that was once holding his heart together now ripping apart at the sight of her. She seems strong, looking at him in a removed manner, as if she truly isn’t there with him at the moment.

His hand hovers over her bicep, fingers tingling as they plead with him to touch her.

“Hi, Lando.” His name falling from her lips, sounding soft and warm, reminds him of why he knew her coming to this, seeing her, would ruin whatever kind of progress he had developed in the year they’d been apart.

His mouth opens, then closes, and he struggles to get words out as his mind races with all the things he wishes to say. Knowing everything he’s tried to tell her is not meant to be said in a place as open as this, he settles for, “Hi, Y/n.”

She smiles at him, completely different from the fury in her features the last time he saw her, and mumbles out, “How have you been?”

He takes a leap, “Been better.”

She ignores it, “Listen, I need to go to the bathroom, but it was nice seeing you!”

Y/n tries to slip past him, but he’s quick to grab her arm. Looking in her eyes as if he’s trying to show her the happy memories that now are too painful to remember, he speaks lowly, “Hear me out.”

She shakes her head, “No, Lando. I’ve been done with us for a year.”

“Have you?” He challenges her, staring down at her and willing her to try again.

She rolls her eyes, looking anywhere but him, “Yes.”

“Look at me.”

When she fails to do so, he shakes her arm lightly.

“Look at me.”

And when she does, he tilts his head, leaning down to hover his lips over hers, “Tell me we’re done. Look at me and tell me you don’t love me anymore.”

“That’s not fair.” She whispers, lips brushing against his.

“Why?”

“Because of what you did.”

He looks on at her, their eyes holding the other’s as they relive the moments of that night. They both know there’s no way for him to counter, no way to fight back or fight for when she throws that in his face. What he did to her, what he said to her, has tarnished the trust she gave to him.

He pulls back, breathing in deep when she rips her arm from his grasp and flees further down the hall.

Watching her disappear behind the door of the restroom, Lando curses himself.

Curses the alcohol, curses that night, curses his words, curses the love they had, curses the memories that won’t leave him alone.

Curses the existence of their relationship entirely.

—

Lando’s never felt confusion of this level before. He stares down at Paige’s, Y/n’s best friend, contact as it calls Lando’s phone.

He hesitantly answers, putting it to his ear slowly, and whispering, “Hello?”

“Lando?” Paige sounds concerned.

Lando shakes his head, attempting to wake himself from the sleep he had just been having, “What’s going on?”

“Y/n is so fucking wasted and, I have no clue what happened between you, but she keeps asking for you. She won’t stop drinking, won’t leave the club, until you get here. I didn’t want to call you, partially because of how late it is and partially because of what’s going on between you two, but, if I’m honest, I’m glad I have an excuse. I’m worried about my best friend and it started when you two broke up.”

By the end of her words, Lando’s already out of his bed and halfway out the door. His keys jingle in his hand as he continues to converse with her, “I’m on my way to pick her up. I’ll be there soon. Just try and keep the drinks out of her hands.”

Before he can hang up, the engine of his car revving to life, Paige interjects, “Lando, one more thing. You’re going to have to let Y/n sleep at your place. She moved out of her apartment a few months ago and has been sleeping on my couch while she finds a new place. But, we have other friends here and I can’t just leave them to make sure she gets into my house.”

Lando nods, “That’s fine, but why’d she move out? She loved it there.”

Paige sighs, “Because she couldn’t stand the fact that everywhere she turned, all she saw was you.”

—

Lando pulls up to the club, its lights bright and music loud as he spots Y/n and Paige waiting on the curb. He gets out, rushing over to them and not loving the way Y/n seems to be hunched over in pain.

Paige pawns her off into Lando’s arms, Y/n melting into them and clinging to him when he holds her softly.

Paige begins to walk back toward the entrance of the club, “Thank you, Lando! You were always someone I could count on to take care of her. Have fun and please, for the love of God, fix whatever is wrong between you.”

At that, she disappears back into the colorful lights and Lando is left with his girl.

She’s mumbling quiet things into his chest, words he can’t make out as he gently lowers her into the passenger seat of his McLaren. When he’s finished buckling her seatbelt and triple checking that she’s secure in the car, he pulls back, but not before she’s grasping his hand and looking up at him with weeping eyes, “I miss you.”

Three words he’s yearned to hear for so long and yet, now, he can’t take them seriously. She’s drunk, she’s blacked out, and she very clearly doesn’t know what she’s saying.

This isn’t real.

He knows that.

But, what if it is?

—

When they stumble through his threshold, Y/n bolts to the bathroom. He smiles softly at the way she still, even in her drunken mind, knows exactly the layout of his apartment. Retching emitted from the small room and he’s running over, kneeling down beside her as she empties her stomach into the toilet. His hand rubs up and down her back as the other holds her hair back, whispering sweet and soft words of love in her ear.

“It’s okay, Y/n. I’m right here.” Knowing she’ll wake up tomorrow and be disgusted by his presence makes the moment even more tender. He knows what will be lost tomorrow, he wants to savor it now.

Her hand moves from the toilet to grasp his shirt, the material hanging from his waist below her. It hurts to feel her touch, to know she seeks comfort in him, but it hurts even more to think of rejecting her, pushing her hand away. So, he lets it rest there, lets it seep into his skin and burn the area, marking it as her own and reminding him there will never be another girl as precious to him as her.

When she’s done, dry heaving the only thing sounding as she lays against the wall behind her, he sits with his legs crossed to the side. His hands rub her thighs as she recovers, and all he can do is stare at her. Her eyes are closed yet he can picture the exact color of them. He memorizes her nose, its upturn and freckles; he memorizes the Cupid’s bow of her lips, the feeling of the plush and soft skin tattooed on his; he memorizes the moles dotted across her neck and the cleavage of her boobs in her dress; he memorizes her arms, their warmth forever ingrained in his brain after Spa 2021 and she was the only thing he needed; he memorizes her legs, and her hands, her hair, the way her eyebrows are shaped, and jawline he’s wished to kiss again.

For it will be gone tomorrow.

—

He’s the first to wake up, thankfully. In case she woke up before him, he slept on the couch, her body taking up his bed for the night. He makes coffee with trembles in his hands as he awaits the moment she wakes up.

And when she does, she storms out of his bedroom, striding into the kitchen still in his t-shirt and sweatpants, the items he dressed her in the night before.

“WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?” She screams at him, hands flailing at her sides as her cheeks redden with anger.

“You got drunk and wouldn’t leave the club until I came and got you, so Paige called me.” He responds calmly, knowing how uncomfortable she must be.

She scoffs, “AND I JUST COINCIDENTALLY HAD TO SLEEP HERE?!”

He shakes his head, “No, Y/n. Paige told me you had to sleep here because she still had to make sure the other girls got home safe. She didn’t have the time to get you back to her place herself.”

She quietens down, looking at him with a distant stare, “Did we fuck?”

He reels back, eyes bulging, “NO! YOU THINK I’D DO THAT WHEN YOU WERE WASTED AND IN THE MIDST OF WHAT WE’RE GOING THROUGH?”

“WE AREN’T GOING THROUGH ANYTHING, LANDO! WE ARE DONE!” She fires back.

“YEAH? THEN, WHY DO WE KEEP SEEING EACH OTHER?”

“I DON’T KNOW! IT’S NOT LIKE I’M ASKING FOR IT!”

Lando steps closer to her, taking a deep breath, “Last night, you told me you missed me. Is that true?”

“No.”

It hangs in the air, full of lies and deception.

“Yes, you do.”

She groans, “NO, I FUCKING DON’T! STOP TRYING TO HOLD ON TO SOMETHING I DON’T WANT ANYMORE!”

“WE WERE IN LOVE, Y/N! I KNOW YOU STILL LOVE ME IN THE WAY I DO!”

Her hands shoved at his chest, tears beginning to leak from her eyes, “THAT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU SAID TO ME!”

Unwillingly, Lando is taken back to the night that ruined it all. Refreshing his memory horrifically.

A YEAR EARLIER

Y/n chuckled as she threw Lando onto the couch, his drunken body landing in an awkward position.

“I’ll be right back, Lan. I’m just going to get you some water.”

He nodded, groaning at the swirling in his stomach. He heard her clank around in the kitchen, getting up and wandering off toward the sound.

When he reached her, he was very quickly overcome with desire and lust for his girlfriend. He stumbled over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her back to him. He began kissing her neck, spit and slobber coating the skin in an uncomfortable way.

Y/n dodged him, “Lan, baby, I love you, but you’re really wasted right now.”

He hummed, “It’s fine, Y/n.”

He tried to kiss her again, but she slid out from his hold, “No, Lando. Plus, I’m not in the mood.”

He reached out for her, but she moved too quickly for his drunken mind. He groaned in frustration, “Y/n!”

“Lando!” She gave right back, shaking her head at his antics as she continued to fill up his water.

When she gave him nothing as he stared at her expectantly, he said the first thing that came to his foggy mind, “Fine, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway.”

She giggled, not fully hearing what he was saying, “Sorry, what?”

“I said, I didn’t want to fuck you anyway. I’ll just go into my Instagram messages and find someone better, it’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”

He saw the way she slowly turned her head to him, “Lando, what are you say-”

He interrupted her, “Who do you think I should look out for? Someone with a bigger ass than yours? Or maybe with bigger boobs? How about skinnier? Or perhaps with a prettier face?”

She just stood and stared at him, the glass in her hands slowly slipping from her grip, “What the fuck?”

He laughed at her, “Come on, Y/n!” He pulled out his phone, waving it in her face, “Who should I look out for as a replacement for the girlfriend who won’t fucking do shit for me?”

Her hip popped out, his demeanor change blindsiding her, “Why are you saying these things?”

He huffed as he slurred, “Because you’re a fucking shit girlfriend! I’ve put up with it for years, your inadequacy to fulfill me! I’m fucking done. I’m over not being satisfied in everything we do. You aren’t attractive to me anymore, you aren’t funny anymore to me, you just don’t do it for me anymore. Someone, I know, can surely be better than you.”

His words were malicious and hot on his tongue as if he had been waiting to say them. The glass, like her heart, slipped from her hands and shattered at her feet. Shards littered the floor, cutting her bare feet, as Lando began laughing at her, “Oh, perfect! And, now, you can’t fucking hold a glass! Fucking pathetic.”

He waltzed out of the room, as if everything was fine and retreated to his room, slamming the door shut.

There, as she stood in the middle of a wet pool of glass, she cried.

Cried for the pain in her feet; cried for the man she loved; cried for the death of her confidence; and cried for the love that had just been ruined.

PRESENT TIME

Lando remembers waking up that next morning without her beside him, and being utterly confused. That was until he read the text message in which she reminded him of the things he said to her, informing him they were over, she wouldn’t look at his face ever again, and she was already on a plane away from Monaco, to not chase her.

He had never been given the chance to explain to her just how drunk he had been that night, how his words weren’t really his.

“I DIDN’T MEAN WHAT I SAID TO YOU!” He yelled in her face, trying desperately to get through to her.

“DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS, HUH?” She argued, hands pushing against his arms.

“ARE ROOFIED WORDS SOBER THOUGHTS?”

She stopped, taking a step back and staring at him. She was quiet, looking up at him with a newfound curiosity, “What?”

“I was drugged that night, Y/n.” He responded, finally allowing for the truth to come out.

Her eyes softened, looking up at him with the love he knew was within her. She walked back to him, closer this time, and wrapped her arms gently around his neck, “Are you okay?”

Testing boundaries, he laid his hands on her waist and when she didn’t protest, he leaned into her fully.

“When I woke up that morning, I had a really hard time reading your text. I got through it, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I genuinely felt like I couldn’t see. My vision was fucked. I got up, I wanted to go to the kitchen and drink some water, but my legs gave out under me and I fell to the floor. I struggled to walk, my head ached in a way I never knew was possible, and I puked all over the floor of my bedroom. I, obviously, knew something was seriously wrong, so I called Jon. He came and helped me into his car. I must’ve been pretty removed because he tells me, to this day, that I was mumbling things about you leaving me, shit I don’t remember ever saying. But, anyways, he drove me to the hospital and they did a shit ton of tests. The drug test, that’s how we found out I was drugged with Rohypnol, a roofie. They helped get it out of my system, but I was pretty fucked up for the next few days. And, then, when I truly came to about a week or so later, I realized the gravity of what happened between us, but, obviously, by that point, it was too late.”

His explanation left Y/n feeling slightly guilty. She had been with him that night, it was her job to make sure he was safe as she promised him she would be his designated driver, the sober one.

“Do you know who did it?” She asked to which he shook his head.

“No, I’m not sure. I don’t remember much from that night.”

He saw it in her eyes, “Y/n, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

Her eyes watered, “But, I should’ve known what you were saying to me wasn’t you, or even drunk you. I shouldn’t have shut you out. I should’ve given you time to explain.”

He nodded his head to each side, “Maybe, but what I said to you was horrific. Of course, you left me.”

She separated herself from him, walking into the living room as she cried. He sat down next to her on the couch, her tears soaking the shirt she wore as she struggled to gain her breath.

He pulled her into him once more, “Y/n, it’s okay. Your actions are justified.”

She shook her head, “No, it’s not that. I mean, it sort of is, but it’s mostly the fact that I spent this past year thinking you never really loved me. What you said to me that night, I’ve never forgotten it and I just spent so much time berating myself for thinking, for five years, you loved me back. I degraded myself over something that was completely manipulated.”

He laid his head on hers as he nodded softly, “I’m so sorry. If it’s worth anything, I truly did love you all five years. I still love you. I never stopped loving you.”

She pulled back, hands on his chest as she stared at him, “I still love you even if those words still haunt me.”

“Don’t let them, please. The fact that they came out of my mouth is enough. Don’t let them have any kind of value. You were and are the love of my life. There’s no one like you, Y/n. No one who could be better suited for me. You are more than enough for me. You’ve satisfied me in every part of our relationship. What I said that night, it couldn’t be farther than the truth. I could never fall out of love with you ever. There is no one I want to take up the other part of my bed than you.”

She wiped her tears, “What about those girls you were seen with this past year?”

He shook his head, “Didn’t hold a candle to you. Not my finest moment, baby. I’m sorry for it.”

“No, you don’t have to apologize for trying to move on, I just want to make sure you’re in this with me.”

He threw his head back, “Of course, I am. I’ll always be all in if you are too.”

She lightly smiled at him, returning to her spot against his chest as he laid them back against the cushions.

They laid there with each other, in silence, until the afternoon. Something that was once broken, now whole. Something that was once destined to end, now beginning again. Something that was once messy and complicated, now clear. Something that was once mistrusted, now fully capable of any challenge.

Maybe Lando could put that engagement ring to use now.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #mclaren formula 1 #lando norris edit #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you

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coffeebeanwriting · 7 months

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Crafting a Villain - Some Quick Tips

1) Give them a relationship or connection to your protagonist. Voldemort is quite literally connected to Harry magically. Katniss becomes a symbol of hope, threatening the control Snow has over the Districts.

2) Let them evoke emotion in your reader. Whether it’s anger, laughter, or sadness… a villain's actions and how they affect your protagonist can warrant an emotional response from the reader. Think about all the times you may have felt anger because the villain gains the upper hand against the protagonist.

3) Make them relatable… or completely unhinged. The goal of your villain can make them relatable to your readers: are they acting out of revenge, self-hatred, sorrow, revenge, or fear? Humans can relate to all of those feelings. Or... are they just downright evil and otherworldly?

4) Their goal. What does your villain seek to obtain? Just like your protagonist, your villain should want or need something. This is why they exist in the story: to antagonize your protagonist and achieve their diabolical goal. Food for thought: Why do they have to be a 'villain' or 'evil' to obtain it? What made them that way?

4) Make them iconic. Most Disney villains are easily recognizable… whether it’s their outfit, voice, or personality. Consider giving your villain something that makes them notably unforgettable. A wardrobe, way of speaking, a quirk?

5) Think about the traits of your villain. What labels them as the villain? Selfishness, violence, insecurity, obsession, fear, ego, ignorance, entitlement? Or maybe they're just misunderstood.

6) Their backstory can make them believable. As the author, the more you understand and know about your villain's upbringing, the more convincingly evil or tactical you can write them.

Instagram: coffeebeanwriting

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floatmeintothesun · 1 year

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How Genshin guys react to you calling them by their full names:

ok I know this isn’t original at all but I seriously loved this sort of concept and found it hilarious! I’m sorry to the person who originally came up with this but thank you for thinking of this wonderful idea!

tw: none

tags: a little suggestive (only implied), some nicknames, fluff, no gender mentioned

—

Diluc:

“Diluc Ragnvidr!”

Poor guy. His head instantly snaps to wherever you're standing, whether it be behind him, to the side, a full floor above, or underneath, Diluc will immediately twist in your direction.

(Ouch. I can hear his neck pain from here.)

He’ll be all worried, seeking you out and asking you if he’s done anything wrong, or if you need him for something important. You usually call him sweet little pet names and he’ll reciprocate, calling you his darling, my sweet, my dear, etc, more romantic gooey names, so something must be wrong if you're resorting to his full name, right?

He’ll be so stressed out in those moments when you haven’t cleared anything up. Give him cuddles after you tell him it’s just a prank, he’ll be relieved, but sulky and somewhat pouty.

As he should be. You nearly gave him a heart attack, and not in your usual lovely way with your wonderful affection…

“Darling? Is everything alright--no, did I do something, not to your liking? Ah…a prank. I see…actually, come visit my office after work…you can say my name all you want there…”

Zhongli:

“Rex Lapis!”

Oh no. He’ll blink slowly, turning to look at you with curiosity and slight apprehension while he tries to figure out why you're using his Archon title. Sure, his name sounds wonderful falling from your lips but he can’t think of a reason why you’d use it now.

Do you require his assistance? Oh, you look displeased, did he do something that warrants your anger? Zhongli will stare at you placidly while you try your best to look angry at him.

He already has an idea that you're playing a prank on him, but just in case you aren’t he’ll just wait for you to break character. After a second your expression melts and he finds faint amusement as you sigh exaggeratedly as if he’s ruined the joke.

Oops.

“Ah, my apologies, my dear. I had an idea that this wasn't quite as serious as your voice had made it out to be. You can be quite intimidating when you want to be, but let’s keep names like those in the bedroom, hm?”

Kaeya:

“Kaeya Alberich!”

He’s sitting up ramrod straight, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. What happened to the sweet little nicknames you usually call him? Wait—you sound a little angry, did he do something wrong?

“Yes, my dear,” He stresses those last two words, looking at you with unmasked curiosity. All the while he’s probably analyzing every conversation he’s had with you and trying to pick out the bits that could have offended you somehow. Although he may not show it, he’s subtly freaking out while you stare at him.

When you finally tell him that it’s a prank, a slow smirk will crawl up his face, his eye narrowing darkly because how dare you. He was genuinely worried that you were mad at him for whatever reason.

“Hmm…I’d much rather hear you calling me dadd--Hey! Don’t hit me…”

—

I’m down bad for these bitches lmao

#kaeya x gender neutral reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin kaeya #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #diluc x you #genshin impact

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geekforhorror · 7 months

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Hi!! Could you write something where after Anakin turns to the dark side fem!reader (who he’s in a relationship with) goes with him. She doesn’t necessarily agree with it but doesn’t want to leave him so she follows him. She begins feeling depressed because Anakin stops paying attention to her and practically emotionally abandons her. They eventually get into a fight where she plans to leave him because nothing has changed but he promises ge will change back for her.

ghost of you

pairing: sith!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): mental health issues, emotional abandonment, mention of dark side, fighting, sadness, kissing, and fluff at the end.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: did i base the title off the song “ghost of you”? yes i did.

————

He promised things would be different.

After Order 66, You and Anakin had fled to your hometown of Naboo where you guys would hide from the Republic and whatever was left of the almost extinct Jedi order. To say the thought of being discovered didn’t scare you would be a complete lie. You had gone with him for one sole reason— you didn’t want to leave him. He was the love of your life, the only person who understood you, and the only one who sacrificed everything to have a better life with you.

But recently, you had been plagued with uneasy feelings about the entire situation. See, you were never on board with abandoning everything and everyone in your old life, but once Anakin had carried out Order 66, he made it very clear that the two of you couldn’t remain on Coruscant when there was a warrant for his arrest. You could see the difference in his eyes when he first told you about what would happen if you stayed. Agreeingly, you went along with him and now you were stuck with the harsh reality of what he did. He had promised you that the two of you would rule the galaxy, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want that at all. All you wanted was his love and nothing more, but he seemed to forget about your needs and wants.

He used to touch you whether it was hugging you or making love to you all hours of the night. Now he barely even kissed you. The romantic date nights had been replaced with him working on his plans for his new empire while shutting you out. He didn’t even ask how your day was anymore.

There was no denying your state of mind had been a sliver of what it used to be. You were once filled with joy, hope, and most importantly— love. But now you were filled with feelings of hopelessness. It was because of Anakin. He had been so focused on building his new empire that he had left you behind at home for hours before returning home late at night. Unbeknownst to him, you had spent those hours crying in despair. You wanted your old husband back. The one you fell in love with back on Coruscant.

Tonight had been like every other night. All alone in the living room with no one to talk to besides yourself. It was really depressing to say the least. This was what your life had come to. Despite not being the biggest fan about all this, the thought of him being gone for countless hours scared you to death. You still loved him after everything he did. You didn’t know how you could still be with him, but here you were.

All of a sudden, you heard the door open and you knew he was home. You looked over at your husband with sad eyes, only to see that he wasn’t doing the same. In that moment, you felt yourself reach rock bottom. You could take everything else, but this? This was a new low for you. It hurt you enough knowing he didn’t touch you or talk to you anymore, but not even being met with his eyes? That hurt you more than anything ever did. You don’t know if you were feeling anger or sadness in this moment. Maybe it was both, but it was enough for you to finally say something.

“Maker, Anakin! Just look at me!” you shout with a crack in your voice.

You almost miss the way he looked at you in disbelief, but not quite. It takes him a second to gather his thoughts and words, trying to figure out what the hell this was about. “What the hell?!” he replies, still taken aback by your harsh tone.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Anakin! You know damn well what this is about!” you reply, the anger overlapping any feelings of sadness you previously had.

“Do I?” he replies sarcastically.

“You better know, for your sake,” you say.

“How am I supposed to know?” he asks, sounding annoyed.

“That’s exactly my point, Anakin! You don’t know where I’m coming from because you never talk to me anymore! I’m your wife, for makers sake!” you say, tears now protruding from your swollen eyes.

“I do talk to you!” he counters.

“You’re so ignorant it hurts,” you say with a scoff.

“Oh really? Go on and tell me what I’m so ignorant about,” he says.

“You’re ignorant about the fact that you don’t talk to me, touch me, or even look at me anymore,” you say.

“That’s not true,” he says defensively.

“It isn’t, huh? Then tell me what I did in the past week,” you say. You can see him struggling to come up with a sufficient answer that’s also honest and true, but he has nothing.

“That’s what I thought,” you retort.

“Listen I’m sorry about that. I’ve just been busy,” he says.

“Busy?! That’s what you call busy? You haven’t given me one ounce of love since we came here!”

“You’re overthinking this, angel,” he says.

“Don’t ‘angel’ me. You gave me a half assed apology and you expect me to be ok with that? God damn it Anakin! I deserve better than this!” you say with tears starting to form from how angry you were.

“What are you saying?” he says with a bit of fear in his voice.

“We’re done,” you say harshly before you start to walk away from him. Anakin’s heart sank with sadness as reality came back to him. It had taken you threatening to leave him to finally come out of a trance. He couldn’t lose you. You were the only person in his life that mattered and it had been that way for a long time. Not even the emperor mattered that much. You were the only reason he stayed alive. You were too special.

Before you can get far, you feel your dress being dragged harshly. You looked behind you only to see Anakin on his knees, tugging at the skirt of your dress.

“Please, angel. Don’t leave me!” he said with a shaky voice.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” you say with a scoff.

“I’ll kill the emperor!” he says abruptly which makes you stop in your tracks.

“I don’t believe you,” you counter.

“I would do anything for you, love. Just tell me what and I will!” he begs.

“I want you to turn back into the man I loved and married,” you say with a trembling voice. “You’re a sith lord, for makers sake! Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want to live this life? I want my husband back,”

“I promise I will. Just give me one more chance, baby,” he asks of you.

You were conflicted. You hated the way this new man made you feel recently, but he was still your husband and you loved him. The new man had died when you broke through his barriers and spoke to him in a way neither of you knew was possible. All that mattered was that it worked. You wanted nothing more than to give him room to grow and learn from his many mistakes if he loved you so much. The only thing worse than being in this situation was living your life without him. The love of your life.

“Get up, Ani,” you say, now cupping his face. He does as you say and is finally back on your level. Once he is, you tenderly kiss him on his lips. It’s a rather foreign feeling after all of these months of being touch starved. The two of you find harmony in the kiss and you feel the galaxy become so little around you guys.

“Maker, I’m such a fool for you, Ani,” you mumble against his lips.

“So am I, darling,” he says back.

Things finally felt right.

#anakin skywalker #anakin imagine #anakin fic #anakin fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin star wars #hayden christensen #the clone wars #revenge of the sith #ahsoka series #star wars #star wars fandom #star wars fanart #star wars fanfiction

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shamrockqueen · 11 months

Text

маленькая сучка

“malen'kaya suchka” - Little Bitch

Pairing : Soldat Bucky x captive and complacent Reader

Warnings : rough sex, dirty talk in Russian, Deep throat, cock sucking, Dubious Consent, Loss of virginity, R18

Word count : 2525

AO3 page link

It was hard to remember when and why you had joined Hydra, nor whether or not you had been kidnapped or tricked into entering the facility, but ever since it had begun, you were to be broken, molded, and shaped for your single purpose.

You had been made to sit on your knees since last night, and since then you have sat unmoved. It left you dozing in this uncomfortable position with your knees held firm as your head hung at your shoulder from exhaustion. This is how he found you, ridged and yet limp. This was unacceptable.

The hard, fast crack echoed throughout the small cell, bouncing off the smooth concrete walls as his palm collided with your cheek. It knocks out the last few ounces of strength that had to hold your body up, and you hit the floor quickly. The cement is cold against your bare skin compared to the hand mark left on your face, which would redden and swell.

You had grown numb to the abuse a long time ago and said nothing as you pushed up on your hands to right yourself back onto your knees. You know better than to stay on the floor after being knocked down. He didn’t like it when you acted weak.

You strained your neck upward, letting it crack from its former stiffness as you took in the sight of him. The soldat. A man whose body was torn and twisted before being put back together along with his mind, going as far as to replace pieces of his body with machinery.

You don’t know how he’d lost his arm to warrant the metal one he has now, and you never dared to ask again after the first time. You stopped trying to give him sympathy not long after meeting him. It didn't matter what they had done to him, as it wouldn’t excuse anything he'd done to you thus far.

From the very beginning, he was your tormentor, your capturer, and your god. Anything and everything you did on a daily basis was dictated by the Soldat and oneone else. You were his gift, a soft and mailable woman to be sculpted as he chose. Falling asleep without permission was a punishable offense, and that first hit surely won’t be the last.

"Ty malen'kaya suka. (You little bitch) No one told you to sleep." His voice is low and hoarse, as he wasn't interested in filling the room with the sounds of screaming just yet.

"I’m sorry." You mummbled only to receive another blow; this time it was backhanded towards the other side of your face, and you fought all of the muscles in your knees not to hit the floor this time. Your sore knees faltered and your upper body swayed, but through your struggle, you succeeded in staying upright.

"nepravil'nyy (wrong)" His voice rose only a little.

"Mne zhal'. ser..(I’m sorry.sir..)" you answered back automatically. You should’ve known better than to let your tongue slip back into English; only he was allowed to talk in that way. It had been difficult to adjust to at first, but over time, your Russian did get better, even if it was only to follow commands and respond to them.

"Uberi svoyu zadnitsu s nog. (Get your ass off your legs). On your knees, now." His voice was only loud enough to be commanding, as you weren’t deserving of any real anger.

You straightened up as he had asked so that your full weight was on your knees and shins alone. You made your back rigid, leaned your head back, and waited for further instruction. You were never allowed to fall behind, nor could you go too far ahead. So, you stood stock still as your knees screamed from having to continue holding you up.

"otkryt' (open)" His voice smacked back off every corner of the room, and you didn’t hesitate to unclench your teeth to open your mouth nice and wide, just as he preferred.

This particular task had become something you became better at with much mandatory practice. But, in spite of the hours of being made to choke him down, there were times that you would still make mistakes, so it wasn’t unexpected when he ran his metal fingers along your lips with misleading gentleness before digging them into your skin to clamp down hard on your face.

He leaned down towards your face to hammer his point in with each graveled word that rumbled from his chest. "Yesli ty vospol'zuyesh'sya svoimi zubami, ya slomayu tebe chelyust'. (If you use your teeth, I will break your jaw.)"

You gave a brief "da ser (yes sir)" before opening your mouth back up as he leaned away again. His hand loosened from your face as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip to show him that naughty bottom row of teeth, a few of which had a metallic sheen similar to his fingers.

That had been the last and only time you’d ever bitten him. It had been a dangerous lesson to learn, as it had cost you four of your teeth. All of which were quickly replaced without the benefit of anesthesia.

He undoes the buckles on his pants as he squares his hips in-line with your face. Your eyes don’t leave his as you stare at one another.

Giving him oral relief upon his arrival was a given, and this time would be no different from the last, for now.

He spit into the palm of his hand as he pulled his long member free from his clothes, giving it a few pumps to harden it until it stood tall and hard.

The tip entered first, pressing against your tongue before sliding over it.

"lizhi, moy kotenok (lick, my kitten)" He growled down at you.

He only used the pet name when you were being good, acting as a trigger word to help spur you further because where there was praise there wouldn’t be any punishment.

So you did as ordered, pulling your head back and flicking your tongue out over the pink tip as you slickened his cock with your saliva.

"Sosat' (suck)," he pushed his hips toward your open mouth, letting his cock slide along your tongue and further into your mouth.

You closed your lips around it, easing him into your mouth as you did as ordered. You started out slowly before you began to bob up and down on his shaft until it slid deeper down your throat when his hips followed your pace. But, his need was to go faster, deeper even.

The Soldat's metal fingers snapped onto the back of your head to push you down on his cock, far enough that your nose was tickled by the dusting of his pubic hair. Your throat enclosed around him, almost swallowing the head of his cock as he shucked your face up and down onto him. It filled the once tensely quiet room with the echo of you breathlessly sputtering and sloshing on his member.

You’ve grown accustomed to holding your breath for however long he needed, but it was often too much. The tears had forced their way out as they rounded around your reddened cheeks as the air in your head grew thin.

The Soldat's strong, steel-like demeanor cracked as he grew closer and growled, "Fuck..takoy khoroshiy kotenok (so good, kitten)" down at you.

He first cums in your mouth before pulling out to paint your face and then your breasts with spurt after spurt of salty, sticky seed. It’s all over the space on your cheeks that still stung from the last time he hit you, and the soft tip of his cock tickled your neck a little as he coated the rest of your skin.

You don’t even know if he took pleasure in sights like this, as his expression never changed. Yet, if you dared to look carefully enough, you could catch a glimpse of his pupils swelling as they drank you in.

You straightened up on your knees, waiting for another order. Usually he would just have you stand and clean yourself up at the sink in the corner of the cell. Yet, as he walked around you, he pulled his undershirt from his body before tossing it to you with a gruff "wipe off."

His cock was still hard and dripping with what was left of his seed, before he stopped to stand behind you.

The muscles of his thick thighs strained as he steadied himself, and his heavy boots hit the cement hard with each step.

You did as first instructed and wiped away his spendings from your face and breasts before setting the clothes on the floor by your side, and you waited until another order was called out.

"Bend forward, on your hands," he called out from behind you.

It was a new command, and you followed as best as you could, bending yourself over and pressing your hands to the cold floor. When his knees dropped behind yours, you knew it was time for a new form of conditioning. Especially as his hand slipped between your thighs to spread your knees apart.

You had assumed it was only a matter of time until you would be completely broken in, but that realization did nothing to steady the unease buring into your stomach.

At least he had the forethought to warn you as the cold metal of his thumb brushed along your now exposed core.

"My budem ispol'zovat' eto otverstiye, a takzhe. (We will use this hole as well.)" he said as his head tilted at the sight of his fingers moving effortlessly through your dewy folds. He wasn’t one to play with his food, but he didn’t expect you to already be wet. It was a hidden shame that you would greatly ignore, but it would prove useful now.

His fleshy finger entered you first, feeling your pristine core wrap tightly around it. You have to hold your breath once he pulls his digit away, only to push two inside. You were nowhere near ready for this, having been unbroken before being given to him, but you stood firm on your locked joints as your knees dug into the hard cement floor.

His hand leaves your body as he aligns himself with you, and you suck in a deep breath when you feel the head prod at your core.

The Soldat leaned his body over yours as his metal arms snaked under yours. His teeth were dangerously close to your skin as he gritted out a graveled "kak dolgo ty mozhesh' derzhat' svoy golos, kotenok? (How long can you hold your voice, kitten?)"

He never asked you questions anymore, speaking only in absolutes as he bent you to his commands.

Would this be a challenge? Were you allowed to not accept it?

You could feel him push on the bubble of pressure that had built up in your lungs as you held in a cry. He was only halfway inside as your walls fought to push him out.

He ground his teeth as he growled out a gruff "tugoy (tight)" against your neck as he quickly tore you open on his cock.

His flesh hand slid under your other arm to meet his metal one, before they both slid over your neck to lock his arms over your shoulders for leverage as he pulled your upper body off the floor and drove the rest of his cock inside of you.

You felt every ounce of air being forced out of your lungs, and your knees slid along the floor as you were no longer holding your own weight, but you didn’t scream. Even when the tears started to bubble out, you didn’t make a single sound aside from your own labored breathing.

When he started to pull himself from your core, you had to bite your fucking tongue as he dragged his cock along your newly torn walls. When he thrusted back into you, you couldn’t hold your voice in anymore. Your cries were made to echo throughout the room as your body jolted with each of his movements.

He pulled himself out of your soft, wet heat until the tip was all that was left inside. You wailed through your teeth as his grip on your entire upper body tightened, and a low growl was heard from him as he pressed his lips to the back of your neck. "Tvoya pizda vsegda budet pomnit' formu moyego chlena. (Your cunt will always remember the shape of my cock.)"

He brought his hips forward to collide against your ass with an audible slap, his steely cock slamming into the back of your cunt hard enough to send a louder cry past your teeth. You were lifted almost off the ground, leaving your knees to only graze the floor.

The damn had broken, and as a thin rivlet of blood trailed down your thigh to drip to the cold floor, your pained voice bounced and echoed around the both of you. It made you dizzy as the pain began to numb your body, and the tickle of something hotter blossomed in your core as he drove himself into your aching channel.

Even the cries melted into something more unnaturally flowery, something sweeter and more pleasing to him. When he felt your core twist and squeeze around him, he knew what he was starting to do to you.

He turned his head to take the shell of your ear between his teeth and growled into your hot skin, "Davay, Kotenok, krik. (Come on, kitten, cry.)"

You didn’t expect to melt around him when his voice vibrated through your skin. Yet, just as he demanded, you cried out into the small and sterile room.

You tightened around him until you felt every ridge, and every muscle of his cock as he tore along your inner walls until it made his cock begin to throb and twitch within you.

The Soldat's loud voice boomed over you with "Konchi dlya menya, kotenok. Konchi na chlen svoyego soldata. (Cum for me, kitty. Cum on your soldier's cock.)" and it set your body on edge to the point that you were screaming and squirming in his tight, immovable hold.

He wound that tight little spring hidden in your belly until it finally snapped apart all over him, making you cry out in a broken, "Nyet, Nyet!"

His climax accompanied yours, making you feel it as he filled your core full, as you twitched around him.

He untangled your limbs from his as he set you to the floor with uncharacteristic gentleness.

The shock of the cold floor felt like it nearly burned your skin as you tried to catch your breath. He was still on his knees above you as he let you have a moment's rest when he slid his metal finger along your forehead to wipe away the stray hairs that clung to your sweaty skin.

⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️

@lizatill inspire this Fic With this post

Want more Bucky? Then check out Bucky’s masterlist!

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embersofhope-if · 1 year

Text

"On the 25th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes that who would represent it."

Twenty-five years have passed since the rebellion, yet the price is still being paid by the Districts. Even though most people alive today had no part in the fight, they suffer the consequences of the Capitol's anger. The harsh reality of the Capitol's cruelty is revealed every year on July 4th, Reaping Day. On this day, two children from each of the 12 districts are randomly chosen to fight to the death in an arena until only a lone victor remains. Parents hold their children close and hope it isn't their child who will be ripped away from them, knowing that there is nothing they can do to stop it.

However, this year is different. This year marks the very first Quarter Quell, and parents don't have to worry about whether their children might be taken away because, for this once-in-a-lifetime event, they get to choose who goes into the arena. But there's no doubt in anyone's mind who's going in when the mayor has a child of his own - me.

Now it's my turn to play a true game of life or death. May the odds be ever in my favor

Demo ☆ Playlist ☆ Pinterest

Customize your appearance (hair type and color, complexion, height, build, clothing)

Choose how you interact with the Capitol and those of your District

Form new relationships and change the ones you already have

Train in the weapon of your choice yes including a bow

Try not to die<3

17+. Content warnings for graphic violence, child death, child abuse/neglect, starvation, murder

Creon Levesque ♤ The Mentor ♤ RO ♤ 19

A special friend in very special places. I met Creon when you were 12 years old at a dinner party my Uncle Keyon had brought me to in the Capitol. Maybe it was the fact that I was very obviously District or maybe it was something else entirely, but from that night forward, Creon and I have had an intense and strange relationship. And now they stand before me assuring me that with them as a mentor, everything will be alright. How they managed to get themselves as a mentor they won't tell me, but honestly, in the end, does it matter?

♤Creon is gender selectable by the player♤

Romance Route: Red flag of all red flags, forbidden love, different worlds, insta love (at least on Creons part)

Aurelius/Aurelia Weaver ♧ The District Partner ♧ RO ♧ 18

My district partner. I don't know them that well, especially after they dropped out of school at 16 to work full-time in the factories. I'm not entirely sure what I did to them to warrant the looks of pure disgust and anger they throw my way after that, but now things have changed. They asked to be the other tribute for District 8, and now standing in front of them and looking into their eyes, all I can see is a predator looking at its prey. They are going to kill me, and they're going to enjoy it.

♧ Aurel is always the opposite gender of Mc ♧

Romance Route: Enemies to Lovers, Doomed Love, potential unrequited love, perhaps unrequited but actually requited love😏

Asher "Ash" Fairchild ♡ The Childhood Bestfriend ♡ 16

Ash was the first and only real friend I've had my entire life. They were practically the embodiment of everything good in the world. Everyone loved Ash, and when they had their name called for the 23rd reaping the shock and sorrow was felt throughout the entire District. Even walking up to the stage, they moved like a petal dancing through the wind. Their memory has haunted me every day for the past two years, and now I get to experience the same terror they felt in their final moments.

♡ There will be an option to be in a relationship with Ash before their games. Ash is also gender selectable by the player ♡

Romance Route: First love, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates

Soren Vesper ◇ The Mayor ◇ 46

The mayor of District 8, and my Father. A very stern man who prefers things to be done his way. I've never seen his mask of the harsh mayor who does everything the Capitol request ever break, that is until the announcement of the Quarter Quell. The change happened so fast that it scared me. A once mighty man who didn't care about the people of his district now begging them to choose anyone but his child to go into the games. At least I get to know my Father does care for me before I die.

Tribute and Other Profiles TBA

☆This is my second IF my main one is @shadowsofthegun-if if anyone is interested in being a goofy little cowboy and i have another IF @dustandshadows-if set in the world of the shadowhunter chronicles if anyone is interested in that as well. @konosadmaru is also my main if anyone wants to follow me on there☆

#embersofhope-if #soh-if #the hunger games #the hunger games if #choose your own adventure #cyoa #interactive games #survival game #text based game #if wip #wip #if game #twine game #twine #twine interactive fiction #promo post

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tkaulitzlvr · 6 months

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BEAUTIFUL - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when tom flirts with an interviewer at an event the two of you are attending, he has to make it up to you once he realises how hurt you are.

content: angst & smut

a/n: something small to compensate for my lack of posts lately, just in case i don’t manage to put something out in the next few days - exams finish after this week so i should be back to uploading a little more regularly!! (not proofread yet - apologies if there are any errors i’ll fix them asap)💗

the drive home is utterly silent. i refuse to turn my gaze toward him, despite the annoyingly noticeable glances he throws in my direction as he takes his eyes off of the road every few minutes, attempting to work out how i feel. doing so had never been easy, though now, it seems completely impossible, my eyes fixed on the road ahead. the only hint that i lend to him is concrete proof of my anger, this part of the endless puzzle of my emotions easy to piece together. tom is aware that he has fucked up, the silence buying him time to carefully consider his choice of words to avoid worsening this situation.

the streetlights lining the smooth path of the highway ahead cast their dull orange light into the silent car, melting onto my stern features, starting at my eyes, dark and heavy, dangerously close to letting the tears welled up within them go, trailing down to my lips, curved downward into a painfully noticeable frown. the radio is just as silent, no longer blaring out tom's obnoxiously loud music, instead replacing its heavy bass with the sound of our breathing, tom clearing his throat when the silence would become slightly too awkward.

it started with the two of us attending another event for the band, this becoming a usual occurrence since i had started dating tom, though i didn't mind it. i had always been supportive of the band - it was impossible to not be, supporting the man i love in the career he is passionate about is something i consider to be my biggest achievement, and i would proudly stand by his side no matter what he decided to pursue, as long as his happiness is guaranteed. he knows just how proud of him i am, this one of many reasons why i make sure i can support him in any way possible, and something that comes along with that is being his plus one for any event.

whether it is a good thing or not, our relationship has never been private. since it's beginning, we made it clear to the public that we are together, parts of our lives perhaps too out there, figuring that allowing unnecessary speculation would only worsen the cruel comments coming our way - though tom never really receives anything close to the backlash that i do.

however boundaries are still something that some couldn't grasp. the publicity of our relationship was and still is visible to anybody with a working pair of eyes. it would be unusual to see me without tom at any event, or to be pictured elsewhere whilst he would be playing a show - the two of us are attached at the hip, utterly infatuated, as the gossip magazines obsessed with our lives would say. and this is why i found myself so enraged that one of his female interviewers acted as if i was invisible, though i maintained my stance beside tom as he answered any questions she directed at him. touching his arm playfully whenever he made a funny comment - though her reaction would always be totally exaggerated, tom's responses never warranting anything more than a slight chuckle, tossing her silky brunette hair and adjusting her already very prominent cleavage at any chance she had, she made it evident that she wanted tom.

and he didn't try to stop her. his eyes scanning her body, twinkling with a foreign sense of lust, speaking thousands of ideas on what he would like to be doing in that moment, forgetting that his girlfriend was beside him. to anyone else, it would look like i was a friend, perhaps even an acquaintance standing beside tom, clearly nothing romantic seeming to be going on between the two of us, his promiscuous glances practically screaming the phrase 'i'm available', regardless of the fact that he is everything but.

it is his acts that lead us to the present, us leaving the event rather abruptly as the tears spilling down my face ruined the makeup i had spent hours applying - for him. embarrassment habituated within the pit of my stomach more than anything, the effort i had put in to look my best meaning seemingly nothing to him.

the berlin cityscape encircles my vision as i watch it quickly pass, skyscrapers and flashing lights heavily contrasting to the emptiness in the sky above, reminding me of why i love this city. the view from the tinted windows of tom's ridiculously priced sports car temporarily distract me from the sorrow i feel, providing me with some sense of security as i find myself longing for more and more of it, my mind and its thoughts spiralling far out of control.

the silence was almost painful, indisputable tension between us so palpable it is almost visible, air thick with thoughts best left unsaid yet i am still unprepared to speak to him, not after he had disregarded me for somebody who couldn't keep her hands away from what had clearly belonged to someone else. his hand hesitantly reaches down from the wheel to caress my thigh, this being a usual habit whenever i am in the passenger seat, yet this time he visibly contemplates doing so, wondering how i will react to his small act of affection.

"don't." i mutter through gritted teeth, my voice shaky and uncertain as i move my leg harshly away from his gentle touch, adjusting the material of my dress so it flows below my knees. an exasperated sigh escapes tom's mouth as he moves his hand to touch the wheel once again, not a single word uttering from either one of us for the entirety of the journey home.

i swiftly exit the car, slamming the door shut and quickly rushing inside of the house that tom and i share, deciding against waiting for him like i usually would. instead, i tug my uncomfortably tall heels off, carrying them under my arm as i trudge up the stairs to our shared bedroom, before he has any chance of catching up to me. i don't need his worthless apologies, especially in this moment when i know one small glance into those eyes will lead to an emotional outburst, or my surrender, his soft features enough to make me forget it all, something which this time, i don't want to do.

my body slumps into the chair facing my vanity as i begin to remove my makeup. the wipe traces across the intricate detailing along my eyelids, smudging the deep orange powder across it, ruining the colour as it smudges with the thick black eyeliner above it messily, completely ruining the blend that i had spent at least an hour perfecting. i take a fresh wipe, running it along my lips, watching the dark pink colour gracing them disappear from my face, leaving the natural colour of them in place of it. my foundation had already been ruined since i had rushed out of the event, long streaks where tears had once fell destroying the flawlessly applied base, the movements of my hands becoming much more ragged, channelling my frustration as i rush to remove each inch of makeup from my face, feeling pathetic for bothering to put any of it on in the first place - it clearly wasn't enough. eyes red and raw, glossy with the thin layer of liquid that covers their exterior, cheeks a light shade of pink from the force i had applied when removing my makeup, my reflection stares back of me, a gut-wrenching reminder that i'm not good enough for him, what i see in the mirror quickly making me realise why. i am a mess - my entire appearance disheveled, an unbelievable contrast to the woman tom had his eyes glued to, everything about her utterly flawless, seemingly crafted by god himself

seconds pass, each one painful and silent, allowing me to continue over-analysing every single aspect of my physical appearance, until a familiar pair of footsteps near my bedroom, a lump in my throat forming as i refuse to turn my head once their presence finally becomes much harder to ignore. even when he walks over, eyes filled with regret, my face remains still, gaze staying put as it burns into my own reflection.

"baby come on, don't be like this." he begins, his hand brushing against my shoulder tenderly as he stands behind me, peppering a single kiss onto where his calloused hand had previously been, this simple act of affection almost making me fold. his reflection gazes into mine through the large mirror in front of us, the tension thickening by the second as my heart closely considers betraying my mind, however remembering the way he acted tonight brings me back into my furious state.

"fuck you tom." i bitterly reply, standing up and swiftly moving into the en-suite, noticing the way he follows closely behind me, clearly not willing to give this up anytime soon. i ignore him regardless of how determined he is, walking toward the mirror and slowly beginning to brush my hair, eyeing his reflection as he moves closer towards me, our gazes interlocking, yet i force myself to look away before I foolishly forgive him.

"i'm sorry, please don't fight with me schatz." he pleads, moving toward me and gently wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, beginning to plant slow and soft kisses along my neck, his thumbs massaging my stomach lightly. his eyes never leave my own through the mirror, staring intently with a look unable to be mistaken for anything else other than admiration, totally different to how he had ignored me earlier on. though it still isn't enough to put out the worried thoughts that occupy my mind, the belief that i am no longer good enough seeming more real than ever.

"wouldn't you rather be doing this to the girl who interviewed you earlier?" i ask blankly, removing myself from his grasp and walking toward the wardrobe, facing away from him and attempting to remove my dress, yet my small hands fail to reach the zipper that starts from my shoulder blades and travels down to my lower back. i am not in any position to ask tom for help as I usually would, instead mentally cursing myself for wearing this dress. he quickly returns from the bathroom, face softening once he registers my helpless state, his frame nearing my own, stopping once his chest is almost pressed firmly against my back.

"leibe you're being ridiculous." he sighs, moving my hair to the side so that it rests against my shoulder, positioning his hand gently on my lower back, the other reaching towards the zipper that i had struggled to pull down.

"get off me-" i begin, just about ready to pull away from his touch and spew out reminders of how much of an awful boyfriend he is, though i am cut quickly off by his steady breathing close to my ear.

"shhh. let me do this for you, then you can go back to being mad at me, okay?" he whispers gently, breath fanning against my skin as goosebumps begin to form along it, his mouth slightly open whilst he begins to unzip my dress at an agonisingly slow pace, exposing my bare shoulders as he removes the fabric from my upper body, his other hand caressing my waist, so gently as if he could break me. he is careful, tentative even, though his movements become undeniably more calculated, going even further once his face leans forward, in line with my shoulder, sinking lower and lower, until his lips hover over the now bare skin. my eyes are on the verge of closing shut, not stopping him just yet, even when both his hands place themselves firmly onto my hips, pulling my body backward so that it is pressed against his own. it is when his lips ghost over my skin, brushing against it so gently i wonder if i am imagining the contact, that i finally snap out of it.

"you said you would undo the zipper, not undress me." i say, the small moment of lust soon lost within the harshness of my words as i utter them, my back still facing him.

he says nothing, clearing his throat and slowly removing his hands from my waist. despite increasing our proximity more than it had been seconds ago, he still remains closely behind me as i grab an oversized t-shirt and fresh panties from my closet.

"can you leave? i want to get changed." i sigh, rolling my eyes and covering my cleavage as i turn to face him. after seeing the way he looked at her body, i tense in discomfort at the thought of him looking at my own. all the times he called me beautiful quickly seem insignificant as i am suddenly ashamed and insecure, almost embarrassed to be so exposed around him.

"what? you always get changed around me. we've been together for four years schatz, it's nothing i haven't seen before." he states, clearly surprised as i usually have no issue being naked around him, used to being showered with kisses and compliments whenever i am exposed around him, yet now i cannot imagine anything worse.

"my body clearly isn't good enough for you tom, i'm sure her's is perfect. i'm sure you'd agree right? the way you looked at her pretty much fucking said it all anyways." i respond, blinking the tears away as they are dangerously close to falling, my gaze dropping from his as i curse myself for acting so vulnerable around him, for letting him get to me this much.

"you and i both know that's not true." he sighs, reaching to wipe the tear falling down my cheek, his pointer finger gently tilting my chin upwards so that i am met with his gaze. "you know what i think of you. you know how perfect you are to me."

i don't respond, scoffing at his empty spews of supposed reassurance. instead, i ignore his presence as i should have done the first time he walked into the room, grabbing my pyjamas and entering the bathroom, quickly removing my dress and slipping on the t-shirt i had grabbed from the closet. i am immediately engulfed in tom's scent, an addictive mix of vanilla and his favourite cologne, this alone almost convincing me to run into his arms and forgive him. this time i know better, returning to the bedroom to find tom gone.

i take no notice, silently thankful for him leaving me alone. i switch the light off, slipping silently under the covers, allowing them to engulf me in warmth. a few minutes later, the bed dips beside me, tom sighing as i turn over to face away from him, instead of moving into his arms as i usually would.

he soon nears closer to me, refusing my attempts at keeping us apart, brushing my hair out of my face and nuzzling his head into my neck from behind, placing a single tender kiss before speaking up.

"please talk to me schatz, i'm so sorry." he mutters into the darkness, awaiting my response, yet i refuse to give him one, not moving from my tensed position.

"you said that your body isn't good enough for me." he slowly begins, turning me on my back in one swift motion as he props himself up beside me, one hand holding himself up as the other gently caresses my cheek. the darkness prevents me from making out his features, though i can still distinguish his dark brown eyes staring into mine. "let me show you. let me show you how beautiful you are."

my speechlessness forces me to do nothing but slowly nod my head, my quick acceptance clearly surprising him as he slowly leans downwards until his lips meet mine. the kiss isn't rough or lustful, it is slow and passionate, carrying every unspoken apology as his lips mould perfectly with mine. as much as i still hold back, still reluctant to let him in so easily, i can't hide it. we fit together flawlessly, our physical contact providing me with the certainty of our love. we are attached, not just physically, but spiritually, emotionally, in any way that two people can be bound together.

without breaking the kiss, he slowly crawls on top of me, caressing my face gently, our desire and hunger for each other increasing by the second, the fire only sparking further within me as i fall further into his touch.

"so perfect..." he mutters against my lips, pulling away only to begin gently kissing my neck, sighs of pleasure elicited from my parted lips as he finds my sweet spot, his tongue circling the area whilst my hands travel down his back, finding the hem of his t-shirt as i lift it over his head, his lips capturing mine softly once again. his hands caress my waist, finding my underwear as he loops his fingers around it, pulling it down slowly and throwing it on the floor beside him, doing the same with my t-shirt. my hands fumble with his underwear, pulling it down soon after, leaving our bare bodies pressed against each other, our craving for one another growing with every kiss he leaves against my lips.

he is the sun, and i am the planets orbiting around him. my entire being is his, only being able to function with the reassurance that he is mine, and i am his. every part of me belongs to him, and as i clutch on to him i find myself wondering what I did to deserve him, what i did to find somebody that compliments me so well, no one else providing me with the euphoria that he can.

he parts his lips from mine, staring into my eyes as i find myself in awe of his perfection. his lips are open ever so slightly, the minimal light cast into the room hitting his lips, soft and tempting, directly, the metal ring adorning them knocked to the side as his tongue comes out to rest against it. however my time to admire him is soon brought to a finish as positions himself at my entrance.

"you sure baby?" he asks, eyes scanning my own, searching for any sense of doubt within them. though i am quick to nod my head, muttering a clear 'yes' as my hands grip onto his biceps, studying the way his face changes from caring to lustful the second that his top pushes inside of me. he is slow, sliding into me carefully, though when he bottoms out, he makes sure that every inch of him is inside of me, his own eyes squeezing shut when my walls clenching around him. he starts off slow, maintaining a steady rhythm as i savour every second, holding onto him so tightly as if he could fall out of my grasp. quiet groans fill my ears as he buries his face into my neck, slowly beginning to pick up the pace, inaudible whines escaping my lips, each thrust further fuelling the ecstasy within me.

"fuck…i love you." he mumbles into my neck, planting fast and sloppy kisses anywhere his lips can find, my vision blurring as i am soon overwhelmed with pleasure. he is inside me, his body pressed against me as even the air cannot come between us, yet i long for him to be closer. i know that isn't possible, and god, that hurts to think about.

“right there, oh my god!" i cry out, my legs wrapping around his torso as he delves further into me, hitting the spot where i need him most perfectly, my eyes to rolling to the back of my head, no noise escaping my mouth as i can do nothing but savour this pleasure, knowing that it cannot last forever.

“so pretty baby…shit- so perfect." he whispers, connecting his lips with mine in a sloppy kiss, quickening his pace as i know he is getting closer to his release. his calloused hands gently grab my waist, pushing me into him further as he struggles to kiss back, moaning into my mouth as his pillowy lips hover over mine.

“i'm so close schatz." he mutters against my lips, his rhythm becoming irregular as his hips stutter and i feel him twitch inside me. i sigh in relief, finally letting go of the knot built up in my stomach, mouth falling open as i reach my climax, this enough for tom to come to his own.

“fuck, oh my god…" he groans, throwing his head back as i feel him release inside of me, his breathing becoming heavier. he slowly thrusts in and out of me, muttering inaudible words of praise, riding out our highs before collapsing on top of me, leaving a few lazy kisses on my shoulder. my hands find their way into his hair, gently running through the dark braids whilst his wrap around my waist. the room stays silent for a few seconds, this soon interrupted by tom’s voice, slow and rough.

“i'm sorry for everything. i love you schatz, you know that right?" he says breathlessly, lifting his head from my chest to look into my eyes, any lustful intent within them now fading as they display nothing but pure regret.

“i know. i love you too." i reply, kissing him tiredly on the lips before closing my eyes, close to falling asleep. though i am soon interrupted by tom’s hand over my shoulder, shaking it gently, whilst the other trails to my face, thumb running across the skin comfortingly.

“c’mon, let's clean you up first liebe, then we can sleep." he whispers, smiling weakly when i nod my head lazily, picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist, carrying me into the bathroom and turning on the shower, both of us climbing in.

the warm water covers my body, droplets running down it as his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into a tight hug. it is silent, though the quiet is everything but awkward, instead the reassurance that his embrace brings is everything i need, my eyes closing contently as he begins washing my body, occasionally kissing my forehead and whispering sweet nothings into my ear, before lifting me out of the shower and grabbing a fresh t-shirt, placing it over my head and onto my tired frame.

he collapses into bed, opening his arms out as i fall into his embrace, wrapping one arm loosely around his bare torso, tracing random patterns on his chest with my pointer finger, head resting against it so firmly i can hear the steady thumping of his heart, each faint beat somehow soothing me, until i fall into a deep sleep.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tomkaulitz #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz

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amomentwiser · 9 months

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"Why don't you spend time with us?" they say, "Keep your phone away at the table."

Parents say they want to talk — until it's about anything real.

They don't want to know about how their plans for your future make you feel.

They don't want to know your fears, hopes or dreams.

The things you're interested in — your favourite music, games and movies;

Or the things you've come to believe.

Sometimes it feels like parents don't want to get to know you as a person. They only see you in relation to themselves.

Or sometimes they do talk about music and games and movies, and it's even worse — because the conversations you want to have are serious.

And it's worse because it becomes very clear, that they don't want to have conversations that matter. That, god forbid, make them feel.

They want to avoid talking about all the times they yelled at you. No apology, no acknowledgement. Just glaze over those parts and pretend everything's normal. Neither guilt nor remorse.

And you're left wondering whether this thing you have a memory of actually happened, because everyone is acting like it didn't. And whether your anger is warranted, because everyone is acting like it isn't.

An unspoken decision: "Yes, we were harsh earlier, but we felt bad and are being nice now"

The implied demand: "...so be grateful,"

The undercurrent of a threat: "...or I'll get angry again."

And a push to move on: "Why do you bear grudges? Leave the past in the past."

All these little clues, that you learn to read in their body language and their eyes and their vibe.

And then they balk when you don't call them. Or jump at the chance to spend time with them — or even have a relationship.

It's weird, loving people you don't like. That you'd never choose of your own volition; that you'd never be friends had you met in the real world. People you're indebted to anyway, because they took care of you your whole life and changed your diapers and drove you to school, and what friend would ever do that?

Had they been overly abusive I would've cut them off without guilt; if I didn't know that despite it all, they really did love me, I wouldn't have cared about hurting their feelings.

Some people... you love them only because they are family. If they were a boyfriend, I would've broken up with them; if they were a spouse I would've divorced them. Alas, they are my parents, and I'm destined to love them. To give up a kidney for them if need be, but not any days out of my workweek.

I don't have these conversations with my family because I've come to realise that this is something they're not emotionally equipped to handle. Too much self-awareness would bring out memories not only of the mistakes they made with me, but also all the times adults in their childhood failed them; of all the ways they themselves were wronged; all the years they wasted because of choices they didn't know they had; and all the things they wish they'd done differently. So I understand; the flood of anger and regrets it brings to the surface must be draining.

But that also means that I'll distance myself from them, because for me, their misunderstood love is draining. And because this has to stop somewhere; someone has to start choosing differently — and I've decided it'll be me.

#the daddy's girl to daddy issues pipeline #brown parents #break the cycle #strict parents #toxic family #brown people problems #self love #self care #quotes #writers on tumblr #desiblr #desi culture #desi girl #indian writer #desi parents #dysfunctional family

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darkdevasofdestruction · 9 months

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You Are My Sunshine - Jack the Ripper/Jack Smith x Reader

"A coward dies a thousand times before his death, but the valiant... Taste of death but once." - Jack Smith.

There was no true middleground between social classes within the Victorian era, and in London, people could feel that suffering the most. The rich only got richer, while the poor starved to death. Women were hardly allowed to work any legal job, thus having to retort to prostitution, while children begged on the streets, in the freezing cold and rain, and men worked themselves to death in factories.

Somewhere, in one of the cheap rooms of a brothel, a prostitute gave birth for the first time, to a rather special child; A little baby boy, conceived with so much love, a precious little thing that would take the name of his father - Little baby Jack. Though he would live in great poverty, the only money to provide for him being the little coins his mother would get from her work - He was still happy. Not only did he have his mother's unlimited fountain of love for him, but he could also read the book left behind by his father upon conceiving him; It was a book of Shakespeare's most famous works, and little Jack loved reading them, to the point that he would take all of the more notable quotes to heart.

Precious little thing, so innocent, a glimmer of hope in the bleakest world that London was for him. He would go out daily, in his raggedy clothes, to find something to eat for him mum and him - And Anne too, if she wouldn't drink so much alcohol all the time. Every day, for so long, this child had to endure multiple beatings and degrading insults, all to survive; And he did it all with a smile on his face. All for his loving and caring mother, who chose HIM, of all the others of her children, to give birth to and raise! He was the fifth child she could have had, but she chose HIM! He truly as the luckiest boy!

In the back of a bakery, little Jack would often try to get the throw-away pastries and bread that would soon go stale and needed to be discarded; It was just trash, nobody needed it anymore, did they? Still, the chef was angry with him, and with his large, strong body, he would kick at Jack's small and frail little body with such malice that was inhumane. A monster. "You again?! This rubbish bin is MY restaurant's rubbish bin! Whether it's leftovers or scraps you want from it, you'll have to pay! And if you can't, then don't ever come back, you filthy rat!" poor boy was clutching his stomach from the exorbitant about of pain he was feeling; But it was fine, if he could get some food out of it, it was worth it.

"HALT!" the authoritarian voice of a girl resounded through the back alley, followed by the rhythmic sound of heeled footsteps approaching them. Jack dared look up to see who it was - A beautiful girl, radiating like the Sun, was standing tall and proud. She must be a nobleman, Jack thought with a soft blush, admiring that beautifully embroidered light blue dress, the rich leather boots and that pretty long hair done masterfully in ringlets, accessorised with a lovely bow. "You are a man, an adult of all things, yet you dare pick on a starving child? How pathetic are you?" the little lady scoffed, looking up at the man with disgust. "Why, you...! Who do you think you are?!" the chef was trembling with anger, ready to raise his fist. "I am a noble lady of high society. I should rather say - Who do YOU think you are, raising not only your voice, but your hand at me also? I could have your business in bankruptcy, if I so desired." she played the insufferable rich brat so well, it even surprised her. "Which would be a pity, considering I quite like the food from your restaurant. Alas, I cannot tolerate the chef being abusive towards the less fortunate. Perhaps I should tell the Queen to take away your Royal Warrant for good." "H-Hold on a second, little lady! Surely, we can negotiate a little? This boy is just a beggar! He has to pay if he wants to eat my food!" the man became stunned from the awfully condescending look in her eyes. "If you don't let the starving people eat the throw-aways and scraps, then you are letting the rats and all the vermin group around and infest this place. I could have this place shut by simply telling them I saw a rat in the restaurant - Who do you think they'll believe - You, a middleclass chef? Or me, the young heiress of Duke L/N?" she unfolded her lacey fan, cunningly covering half of her face. "If you offer the discarded food to those in need, however... I might reconsider your position in this tough industry."

At once, the chef ran inside the restaurant, only to soon return with a large box full of food, which he let fall in front of the boy. "There - Is that good enough?" The lady took out a golden coin from her pretty little blue purse, and she flicked it on the ground for the chef to scramble over it like a greedy man. "For now, yes. Keep up the charitable work, Chef." the lady looked away as the chef bowed and rushed inside the restaurant.

When he was finally gone, the lady let out a sigh of relief before snapping her fan close and giggling. She crouched down in front of the boy and smiled brightly, offering him her hand to help him stand up. "I hope this food is going to fill your belly for a while." "Ahh, My Lady, you're too gracious! You needn't bother with a sewer rat like me!" the poor boy didn't even dare look at her. "No, no, I won't have that. It's not your fault you were born under such circumstances. Everyone deserves a chance in life. Unfortunately, only few are born under a lucky star. Without money, privilege and status, there is little one can do to live a comfortable and modest life." she explained as she picked both of his hands in her small, delicate ones, helping him stand up. "Can you carry the food to where you stay?" the boy's beautiful smile and blush made her feel happy. "Yes, I'll be fine. You really... You're really too kind, My Lady. I don't deserve your kindness." suddenly, Jack felt his face being cupped gently, his silver hair being brushed away from his eyes. "I've never seen such pretty hair on a boy before. And your skin is so soft also. You even have heterochromia! See - One of your eyes is the colour of the soul, a calming blue like the azure sky; And the other is the colour of love, a gentle carmine like the heart that pumps blood inside our bodies. You are very unique and special." "I-... I don't know what to say, My Lady. I... I'm really happy... Only mum ever said anything so nice about me." the pink blush gracing his features made the girl giggle sweetly. "What is your name?" the girl asked, patting his hair. "Jack. My name is Jack." Y/N nodded at him. "What a pretty name you have, Jack." she praised. "My parents are waiting for me, so I can't stay around for too long. We are going to see a theater play, you see? They are playing Hamlet. Will I be seeing you around?" "Y-Yes, if you want to see me, I'll be around!" the little boy offered a bright, toothy grin. "Alright. I will be seeing you around, then." she nodded confidently. "Oh, before I forget - If you ever find the whole world going against you, then you pay look for me. My home is a little out of London, on a pretty hill next to the forest. Ask for Lady Y/N L/N. And give them this." she took off her necklace, placing it in his palm. "Well, I suppose you can sell it if you really want to. Anyway, I'll be seeing you around. Take care, Jack."

With a pretty wiggle of her fingers, the little Lady bid her farewell before unfolding the fan and gracefully waltzing out of the alleyway, back to her parents, while the boy could only stare in shock and awe at what just happened. He was left completely mesmerised and in love with Lady Y/N and the wonderful shade that her emotions radiated around her like a Godly aura. He's never seen such a brilliant shade of blue before, he wondered what it could mean.

As Y/N returned to her parents, she told them happily about her encounter with the young boy named Jack, and how pretty he was, even despite being in an unfortunate circumstance. Though her parents knew that the social standards of the noble class dictated who to marry and even fall in love with, they were content seeing such a glowing smile of happiness on their little girl's face. Perhaps this little boy, despite being from the very lowest class, could be a nice friend for her. Her father, most of all, knew how good it was to have street-smart men as his friends, when circumstances dictated a more shrewd plan.

Likewise, Jack ran quickly back to the brothel, showing his mum and Anne the bounty he brought home, telling them in great detail his encounter with the beautiful Missy who saved him from the Chef and threatened him into being charitable with the less fortunate. He even showed off the keepsake necklace she gave him, as a promise of reunion! He was so giddy and excited to see Lady Y/N again, that he wished to go sleep faster and wake up earlier, just so the time would fly faster and meet Lady Y/N already.

As promised, Y/N would take him on carriage rides and go to the park or on flower hills, just talking about random things. He especially enjoyed it when Y/N would bring literature books over and would read to him - On the few occasions that he knew the piece of literature, he would unconsciously find himself reciting the lines at the same time as she read them. It always made them smile so cutely at each other.

With this, Y/N even started baking some pastries and desserts for him, and he loved everything she made for him so much; Though even he has to admit, her famous Apple Pie was his favourite.

On a beautiful sunset, Y/N admitted that her favourite colour was blue - It was usually a colour associated with the emotion of sadness, but Y/N never once believed so. It's such a calming and gentle colour, how can anyone feel sad when seeing it? She simply could not accept such erroneous symbolism. Jack, on the other hand, said his favourite colour is yellow - The colour of happiness, the colour of the bright, warm Sun... And unknown to Y/N, the colour that Mother's love shone.

One day however, things changed; Jack learnt the truth of Mother's love. He experienced the most painful kind of betrayal, hearing your own mother cursing you and wishing you were never born. With tears and snot running in rivers down his face, Jack watched Gold turn to a marvelous purple of Fear as he killed his mother; And the very same purple he witnessed from his supposed father, Jack Smith.

Drenched in crimson and all alone, Jack knew he had to find a reason for living, and the means to do so - He couldn't beg his whole life. He was a gentleman, and he wanted to grow up and look the like also. He took out the necklace from inside his shirt and kissed it. He wondered if Y/N would still accept him, even after she sees him in this state.

Although skeptical, the guards allowed the boy to enter the manor, but was only allowed to meet Y/N's father - A pristine man, tall and with a respectable body, wearing a monocle and a rich suit. He was everything that Jack wanted to become. Upon seeing the boy, the Father asked what happened to him - Jack found himself tearing up, explaining his mum was killed and he ran away in fear. Poor boy, he lost even the little family that he had.

"Would you like to work for us, Jack? I'm sure Y/N would be very happy to see her friend every day." the silky moustache of the gentleman twitched upwards with his smile, and the boy couldn't help but blush deeply, nodding. "I-I would love nothing more, My Lord." Y/N's Father hummed gently, petting his hair before instructing the maids to care for the boy and show him the servants' room. He will be a great gardener's apprentice. Y/N loved flowers dearly.

Though the morning started bright early, Jack was excited to have such a great place to live at and work; He didn't get to see Y/N yet, but he was told the little lady of the manor enjoys reading whilst drinking her afternoon tea, in the flower garden. Excited, Jack, under the supervision of the elderly gardener, cut a few pretty flowers and rushed to where Y/N was enjoying her tea. He extended his hands towards her, handing her the flowers. "Good afternoon, Lady Y/N!" his smile was brighter than the Sun itself, and he looked so much more adorable now, properly cleaned up and wearing fresh clothes. "Jack!" Y/N's calming blue aura turned such a blindingly bright pink of a gentle hue, like the petals of a pink rose, that Jack felt overwhelmed with happiness - He didn't know what that colour meant, but he could easily tell it was a very positive one. She threw her arms around his neck and brought him in a tight hug, kissing his cheek. "I'm so happy to see you! Are you alright? Did something happen?" Jack simply smiled at her. "I'm the happiest I've ever been whenever I'm with you!"

From the proximity, the mother and father smiled, watching the two children interact so purely with each other. It was no farce, they cared for each other deeply. For quite a few years, Jack remained as a servant to Y/N's manor, and with the kindness of her parents, he was taught the same things that Y/N was - Although she was supposed to learn more feminine things, to become a proper Noble Lady that would one day marry and what not - They did indulge in her love for science and wish to become a doctor. It was a sad thought, not being allowed to study Medicine because no University allowed women. It was a sad reality they lived in. It mattered little that their sweet girl was brilliant - They'd much rather accept subpar men than an intelligent woman.

But her parents loved her far too much to ruin her dreams.

Jack grew older though, and he didn't want to leech off of Y/N and her family's kindness, so he decided to brave the world for himself; Y/N supported everything he did. They would send each other letters weekly and Jack would tell her of his new studies and work, until finally, he received his first salary and could afford to invite his pretty lady to a nice cup of tea and some cake at his favourite restaurant.

Now in their early twenties, Jack grew a moustache, though still small, yet stylish enough for a gentleman like him, and he bought some nice clothes for himself; He didn't want to embarrass Y/N when they'd go out.

This time though, Y/N's usual bright aura was a little dimmer; A myriad of colours there, some pretty some less so; That gorgeous soft pink was still there, over her heart, but that brilliant blue was faded. The majority of her spirit was taken over by the colour of deep sadness. "It really is silly, you know? A single woman was able to abuse the loophole in our University system, and they quickly shut that opportunity for the rest of us. Not fair, is it?" she sighed, stirring the tea absent-minded with the honey spoon. "It's their loss. You would have been a wonderful medic. The field needs someone with your brilliance." Jack comforted her in his gentle and refined tone. "Well... I suppose all I can do now is to continue studying as a hobby and see if I live long enough for an opportunity like this." the young man picked her small hand in his own, squeezing it tenderly before placing a small kiss on her fingers. "The world is constantly progressing, My Lady. I am sure, soon enough, such an opportunity will present itself soon. People like you deserve only the best in life." he couldn't help but gaze in awe as that sadness was quickly overpowered by that lovely pink, every time he spoke sweet words to her. Could this emotion be...? Could it, really? "I dearly hope so, Jackie."

And sure enough, it did happen, once the London Royal Free Hospital School of Medicine was the first to accept women to study and practice medicine in their classrooms and hospital words - It became the first School of Medicine for Women. Y/N was the happiest she's ever been, and her aura looked like the most gorgeous Sunset, with the pink of love and the gold of deep happiness, and a blue of pride and content. She was so happy, in fact, that she celebrated with Jack and her parents at one of the most expensive restaurants in London.

Every time they would meet, she was overwhelmingly beautiful, and Jack couldn't contain his love for her any longer. "I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest!" he quoted Shakespeare to her, as they walked through the flower gardens of her home. For once, it was time for her to have her porcelain cheeks all warm and flustered, as they looked at each other, the gentle light of the golden hour caressing them. "I may not have status, nor wealth, but my bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." Y/N felt breathless as so deeply in love; If only their beautiful love story won't turn the same way as that of Romeo and Juliet. "Oh, Jack. I've loved you since the day I first met you, when we were children. There is no one else other than you that I would wish to spend my life with." and her parents hoped to have Jack as a groom, for there was no one alive that could love and cherish their little girl the way Jack did.

All was well, and Y/N was experiencing pure bliss; Not only was her love life perfect, but her studies were excellent. But with practicing in the hospital, came returning home at late hours into the night, and everyone knew how unsafe the streets of London could be, especially for young women, let alone beautiful and rich like Y/N. Come 1888, a serial killer began terrorizing London, massacring poor women who worked in the sex industry. He wasn't just killing them - He was mutilating them, expertly removing their wombs, and when his sick fantasies were done, he'd discard them on the ground, with their legs open for all to see their shame. By November, already five women were murdered, and for the first time, Jack could see not only the deep Purple Fear taking over his lover's aura, but her unsettling was visible on her face and demeanour also.

"This is horrible, absolutely horrible!" Y/N moaned in distress. "How could one man be so cruel as to torture someone like this - Five someones, no less!" the woman sighed, sipping on her calming tea. Thankfully, Miss Alice, one of their favourite bakery's employee, came over with their apple pie. Jack's reaction was so childlike and pure that Y/N felt a little more at ease. "Jack the Ripper is at it again, huh... How scary." Alice agreed with Y/N. "Present fears are less than horrible imaginings. It's from Macbeth, by William Shakespeare. Monsters created by the human imagination are often scarier than the real ones. If we found out his true identity, Jack the Ripper may turn out not to be that big of a deal, hm?" Jack smiled gently at Alice. "Oh, that makes sense." she nodded, before being distracted by two journalists working on the Jack the Ripper case, on the table nearby, who ran away quickly to continue their work.

From the opposite side of the street, the trio watched as a young lady selling newspapers was shamelessly pushed aside, causing her to fall to the ground, dropping one of the papers in a small puddle of water, ruining half of it. Her distress was great - She would be losing her money, instead of earning some. But Jack went over to her, and smiled tenderly, offering her a coin for the paper, before returning to his coffee. He knew what it was like, starving and needing to do anything to survive - Now that he could afford a better life, he tried to help anyone who deserved, like this Miss Sophie.

"That girl... Her name is Sophie. She recently lost her mother, and because her father is a drunkard who refuses to work hard, she now does all sorts of jobs in order to support her little brother." Y/N couldn't help but look at her with a saddened look. "Is there no way we can help her?" she found herself whispering. "By the way, you're a kind person. You bought the same newspaper as the one you were just reading." Alice smiled proudly at Jack. Jack simply looked down, hiding his smile. "I just felt... Like reading the same newspaper again." he demurely replied. "Oh no, it's getting late. Forgive me, Jack, my classes are starting soon. I will be coming home late tonight, so please don't wait for me." she rushed up on her feet, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek. "I hope you sleep well tonight." "I hope you have an easy day at the hospital today, my darling." Jack blushed softly, smiling back and waving her goodbye, watching as she rushed for the nearest carriage. "You are one lucky man, Mr. She's quite the lovely lady." Alice giggled at him. "Yes, I truly am lucky."

That night, Y/N wasn't going to be so lucky one night, when she left the hospital at such a late hour into the night, on a rather chilly night. Y/N kept a shawl over her head, terrified out of her mind and continuing to sing a little tune in her head, a lullaby that her mother always sang her. It never failed to give her some courage, even when she was petrified with fear. So was now, as she rushed down the cobbled alleys of London.

You are my sunshine My only sunshine You make me happy When skies are gray You'll never know, dear How much I love you Please don't take My sunshine away

Her heart trembled, repeating that lullaby over and over again - Until she got called by a man's voice. She gulped. "Oi, missy." she could feel his terrifying breath on the back of her neck. "How much?" "H-How much wh-what?" her body was frozen with fear; The man could easily run her down and overpower her if he wanted to. "How much do you sell your filthy whore body for?"

Y/N couldn't even scream for help as the stranger slammed a chloroform napkin over her nose, holding an iron grip on her body. She couldn't even struggle, he was far too strong for her. "Gah, whenever a dirty little slut like you is near me, my whole body gets incredibly itchy." Y/N felt her vision warping and her body growing progressively lax. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I'll help you. I'll set your soul free from that disgusting body of yours, so that you can go to heaven..."

No matter how much she prayed to be rescued by Jack or her parents, her consciousness faded, and she was left a prey to Jack the Ripper. The culprit dragged her to his home, stripping her naked and placing her on a wooden table in his work room. The walls were plastered with tens and tens of perverted pictures of the women he mutilated over the years. The killer was humming a little tune as he prepared his utensils and camera, ready to rip her to shreds so that the world can see her for the whore she truly is. "I will cleanse you from your sins. I will cleanse this whole world, on God's behalf." he grinned wickedly, gazing upon the face of the woman afflicted by a deep sleep. "But you Gods, will give us some faults to make us men." the killer immediately turned to the intruder, threatening him with a knife. "However... From those faults, ultimate tragedy is born. It's rather ironic." Jack hummed softly. "Don't come any closer! Just what the hell are you doing in another person's apartment?!" the journalist turned killer, Luke Evans, shouted at him. "What am I doing? I'm here to bring my soon-to-be wife at home, you see. I feared she might run into danger when returning from the hospital, and I wished to walk her back to safety. Alas, you caused her great distress and even endangered her life. That, I cannot forgive."

Luke simply grinned wickedly at Jack, threatening to kill him - He knows who he truly is, so he must be eliminated. He was pretty good with a knife, no wonder, considering how many people he killed. Jack would be the first man he disposes of - Or so he'd wish.

"The colour of the emotions that this eye can see... They are works of art that only I can create." Jack smiled, pointing at his crimson left eye. "Such magnificent malice." his smile turned into a mad hatter grin, watching the blood dripping from his piano wire after slicing off the journalist's arm clean. As he attempted to run, Jack threw two of his own scalpels into the back of his shins, causing him to topple over on the ground.

Jack watched as the killer slumped on the ground, his back against the wall; And he sat on his lap, cradling his face. "There are two things on earth, more beautiful than anything. One, is the sunset colour of pure love that my darling Y/N has whenever she looks at me..." Jack huffed in amusement. "And the other... It's that moment when all other emotions are overtaken and dyed in the colour of fear." he grinned impishly. "Anger. Envy. Hate. Disdain. Arrogance. All this time I've been looking for a person who had nothing but filthy emotions residing within them - And you were superb. Now let me see it, Jack the Ripper." he placed the tip of a small knife in the middle of his forehead. "Now please try to imagine how this knife penetrates deeply... Into that brain of yours." not Luke's shrieks, nor his sobbing and tears could stop Jack from slowly pushing the blade deep inside his skull, until he was reduced to nothing but a blinding purple of Fear, and then death. "EXCELLENT! WHAT A NICE COLOUR!"

Jack's delight was great, but now that Jack the Ripper was dead, he had to get his darling Y/N out of this hell. He gazed upon her, laying there, on the wooden table, covered by a single filthy sheet - What a disgusting wretch, attempting to soil her, even daring to associate her pureness and innocence with that of a whore - As though those poor women were selling their bodies because they wanted to, not out of need of survival. "My darling, I have failed you. Forgive me." though it felt awful, looking upon her gorgeous body, untouched by any man - He had to dress her back in her pretty clothes and return home. Somewhere on the table though, he found all of Luke's savings, and he grinned. He wrote a quick letter to Miss Sophie, and was ready to make an Anonymous donation.

Jack held Y/N up in his arms like a princess before setting the apartment aflame, along with all of the evidence of the murder... Or the identity of the serial killer. "London bridge is burning down... Burning down, burning down. London bridge is burning down... My Fair Lady." he hummed as he casually walked through the busy streets of London, and towards the manor.

The man felt a bit of stirring in his strong arms, and he smiled; Y/N was awaking. She fluttered her beautiful eyes open, only to squeal and attempt to struggle away.

You are my sunshine My only sunshine You make me happy When skies are gray You'll never know, dear How much I love you Please don't take My sunshine away

That lullaby... That voice... "Jack?!" she calmed down as she looked up at his smile. "Wh-What happened?" "I went over to the hospital to walk you home, but by the time I arrived, you were asleep in a chair. Must have been a pretty exhausting night, hm? Don't worry, my sweetling. I got Alice's famous Apple Pie with Cheddar Cheese, and the sweetest tea, just for you. You can sleep after you ate a little." Jack reassured her, speaking in the gentlest voice he could muster. "R-Really? I fell asleep? Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry, you should have woke me up! You didn't have to carry me so long, your arms must be killing you!" the man smiled at her adorable worrying, shaking his head. "A gentleman always takes care of his darling Lady." he hummed proudly. "You're always safe with me." "Oh, Jack." she threw her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face in his shoulder. "I just had the most awful dream. The whole thing with Jack the Ripper must have truly scared me half to death." she was clearly still in distress. Hopefully, for as long as she thinks it was just a dream, she can rest easy. "I dreamt that I was walking home from the hospital, and this guy kidnapped me and tried to kill me. It was awful, so awful." "I kiss thee with a most constant heart." Jack pulled his lady into a sweet kiss, shifting her mind away from such a nightmare. “A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.” "If this is your way of telling me not to worry, then I love it." she giggled so adorably, that Jack could see not a single trace of that fearful purple anywhere. What a success.

And as promised, he returned her home, placing her on her bed and allowing her time to change in her sleeping wear as he brought over that famous apple pie and brewed her tea. Though it was already around afternoon, he was content with just laying in bed next to her, holding her close to his chest and soothing her mind, caressing her hair. She looked so peaceful, sleeping like that. So beautiful, so innocent, glowing a wonderous blue, content and calm.

Come the next afternoon, Jack brought Y/N over to the flower garden, her favourite place; As the Sun began to set, and the sky's colours mimicked Y/N's beautiful emotions, the silver haired man fell on one knee. “I would not wish any companion in the world but you. I do love nothing in the world so well as you - is not that strange? Nay, for love comforteth like sunshine after rain. Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life.” he took out a velvety box, revealing a beautiful ring, golden, with a pink gem, symbolising the gentle colour of the love they shared. "Y/N, my darling, you are my most beloved sunshine, in this bleak, grey world. Will you marry me?" Y/N felt tears streaming down her cheeks as she squealed a loud 'Yes!' and threw herself into his arms. "I love you so much, Jack. There's no one else I'd want to live my life with, but you."

With one true love's kiss, Jack and Y/N sealed their eternal love for each other; Her parents were just as happy for them, completely ignoring the scrutiny and scolding from the other nobles for not marrying their daughter for political reasons. Their wedding was small and intimate, not wanting to involve the whole damn high society and have their perfect moment ruined by the gossips of those jerks.

Life couldn't be better for them; Truly, two souls bound for eternity, in life and above, were to be forever happy...

Though just like the tale of Romeo and Juliet, no love is eternal. Y/N's parents might have allowed them to marry, but life did not allowed them a long life of joy. No matter how much Jack wanted to shield his darling wife from the knowledge of his secret identity, an assassin for the Government, taking down whatever big guy might terrorise the underground... The way he killed Jack the Ripper, the way he took down a cannibal knight who ate children, and a terrorist organisation naming themselves Mother Goose...

Alas, these last ones not only almost killed him by blowing up the bridge he was standing on... But they did the unthinkable. As Jack returned to Y/N's manor one evening, giddy to gift her the pretty fan he found in a new fashion store that opened on the main street, he saw a large fire up the hill. Though horrified, Jack rushed up the hill and to the manor, yelling Y/N's name desperately, but no one answered. He could barely see, his eyes blurred with tears from the stinging smoke and the scared tears. He foolishly burst inside the burning mansion, searching for Y/N and her parents. They were all lying on the ground, dead, in a pool of their own blood. The poor man had to drag their bodies outside, all by himself, though Y/N's he held on, sobbing as he held onto her tightly, his tears raining down on her.

Why? Just, why? Why her? Why them? Y/N and her family were known to be the kindest of the noble families, so why would anyone want them death? It wasn't fair; Why were the most beautiful souls the ones ripped away from existence so cruelly? Why was he not allowed any lasting happiness? What did he do wrong in this life, or before even being born, that he remained so unfortunate, and continued to bring misfortune to everyone he encountered? His mother, his father, Anne, Y/N, even that little lady Sophie from whom he just bought a newspaper and sent some money. None were safe from him.

“When you depart from me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.” were his last words to his wife, the last thing he had in her memory being the necklace she gifted him as children.

When he died, or how, none cared, for Mr. Anonymous was no one; He was just a ghost, a phantasm, wandering about aimlessly, barely surviving, all alone in the world, with the only comfort to caress his heart being the criminals he killed, and the perverted satisfaction he got out of seeing that magnificent shade of purple that only the fear overwhelming them could create.

When next he woke up, he was in a gazebo, drinking tea, and a lady named Brunhilde spoke to him. He was to become one of Humanity's fighters in this fight for mankind's survival - Ragnarok, the fight between Gods and Humans. She explained how he can only hurt a God with the aid of Divine Treasure weapons and what not; Though, when asked how to address him, he simply smiled.

Jack the Ripper, the famous Prostitute Killer.

Yeah, that name suited him well enough.

He will be battling in the fourth round against the mighty Heracles, who graciously agreed to transform the arena into a perfect mimicry of London, and with the aid of the little Valkyrie lady, Hlokk, he had every chance to win - If he played his cards right. He only wondered what Y/N might think, if she were to see him under the alias of Jack the Ripper, the man who almost killed her. Fairly speaking, because of his involvement with Mother Goose, he DID end up indirectly causing her death, and for that, he is eternally regretful.

The whole lot of humanity was not only confused, but enraged also - Why would they send the scummiest vermin to ever walk the earth to represent them in a fight? His Godly opponent also was disgusted, seeing that he had to fight not a respectable, honorable warrior, but... A bloodthirsty serial killer who ripped the lives of so many innocent women.

"Jack...!" though he couldn't hear through his fight, someone was shocked to see the love of her life having taken the alias of a disgusting killer, along with such witty tricks which he came up with on the go, constantly lying about his weapon, using piano wires along with countless knives, deceiving the God and so much more. But this Heracles was a resilient powerhouse, and when he expected least, Jack got his precious monocle destroyed. Ahh, this monocle he had was to honour the legacy of his dear father-in-law, what a shame. Now the whole world had to see his crimson eye, and that perverted love for colourful emotions he had.

Y/N only stared at the man before her, surprised to see his true character unfold; In a way, he was a complete other person - But in other ways, he was the same Jack Smith he knew. How confusing. Still, she was going to root and cheer for the man she loved, for her heart would clench in sheer terror whenever he'd get hurt, same as when he climbed up the Big Ben clock, only to make the whole building collapse on the God. What an insanely shrewd scheme, yet it didn't yet defeat Heracles.

Finally, Jack was forced to admit, the true Divine weapons was never any of the things he threw at him, but his own gloves - Practically speaking, the whole arena became a weapon to kill a God. Heracles, through this fight, figured out that his human opponent can, weirdly enough, see the colours of people's emotions - He was so flattered that he blushed, that Jack! "The colours of emotions that I can see are works of art that only I can create!" he declared blissfully. He spoke not only of the beauty that his wife's love for him was, but also, the excellent shade of purple that only sheer fear could generate. "You... Have lost." Heracles declared boldly, calling him out for giving into despair, allowing himself to succumb to the hedonistic pleasures of killing. For the first time, Jack could see such a pure colour of a remarkable Gold, like the Sun. Heracles loved humans so much, even despite their flaws and foolishness. He only ever wanted to bring them on the right path, to save them. He loved humans with all his heart.

This emotion... This sunset of colours... Jack never even dreamt that he would see it again! The colour of his darling Y/N! Right in front of him, in the guise of his opponent! "Jack the Ripper - I will save you from your suffering!" with such a bold statement, Heracles called forth the Hounds of Hades; High gamble, high risk, high reward - Though no matter how sneaky Jack was, not even he was safe from the God's mighty hits, and he received a powerful punch to the face. He tried to run away, using the grappling hook, but mid-jump he got punched away by the God, and he fell to the ground, impaling his torso into the metal fence underneath.

"JACK!" his pain was unbearable, but her had to fight through the agony - With a groan, he managed to rip away the metal bar from his body, panting in exhaustion. "JACK, DON'T GIVE UP! YOU CAN DO IT!" what a familiar voice - Was he hallucinating? It couldn't be, could it? His sweet Y/N couldn't be there, watching him die for her, can she? She should see him in such a state, nor should she witness the atrocious trickery he was capable of, bringing down the whole damn building to crush the God.

Heracles' colour remained the same through all this, and though it amused Jack, his body burnt with agony. "Ahh, forgive me - I just missed seeing this colour so much! The colour of true love! I missed it so much since my wife died!" he grinned, using his own blood to paint it even wider. "Forgive me, but I'm going to change your colour!" "Just you try! Just you try to change my colour!" Heracles provoked him. "Yes... Let us create the ultimate finale!" Jack theatrically called out; They engaged in a ferocious hand to hand combat, and though Heracles was missing the arm that Jack cut off, he was doing just fine punching away at the human's frail body, sending him flying away, rolling pitifully onto the ground.

"JACK, GET UP! DON'T GIVE UP! YOU CAN DO IT!" is that truly Y/N? She was the only person that would ever cheer on him, right? If she was there, he had to fight. He had to win. From his blind spot, Jack created a diversion, using the pole he was impaled with to hit away at the God's face - He got roughly punched to the ground, and he wasn't moving. Damn, that was really painful.

"We should have never entrusted humanity on that scum of the earth." one of the humans in the stands spat. "I don't see YOU fighting for mankind!" Y/N hissed at him. A woman next to her, drinking heavily from a large bottle, also seemed to sneer at them. "Why don't you go and fight the Gods, then? Think you can do any better?" she held a worried look on her face. "That boy went to fight them, all on his own." "Miss, do you know Jack?" Y/N looked at her with wonder. Anne nodded, looking at him with pity. "Yes. He was a doomed child, birthed at my brothel by one of the prostitutes there. The only reason she didn't abort him like the others was a silly promise with some script-writer named Jack Smith who promised to marry her one day. Silly woman, falling prey to nonsense promises from lecherous men." Y/N stared in shock at the worried woman, though now, some things were beginning to make some sense. "He was the one who killed his parents, didn't he?" Anne nodded slowly. "But he's not Jack the Ripper, I can reassure you of that!" Y/N declared boldly. "I know this because my parents took him in, and we grew up together. We even married at some point. And when Jack the Ripper was at large..." Y/N gulped, remembering that awful nightmare. It was definitely a reality. "It was our Jack who saved me from the real Jack the Ripper." she spoke softly. "It doesn't matter if Jack never really had a real name, or if he just wanted to take the piss out of people by invoking a serial killer's name as an alias. I know my husband, and he'd never hurt any innocent person! My husband has a good heart, and he's the sweetest man in the world! I have faith in him, so Lady, please, cheer on him with me." Anne stared at the younger one with deep shock, only to end up grinning and pulling her into her side. "What a lucky boy, finding a catch like you. I'm sure our little boy was truly happy with you."

With both Anne and Y/N calling out his name, cheering on him, Jack was able to smile, dragging himself up on his feet. "London Bridge is broken down. Broken down, broken down... My fair lady..." he hummed weakly, looking up at the night sky. With difficulty, he managed to drag himself in front of the God again, reaching to attack with his metal pole, only to get punched down to the ground. Finally, the opportunity arose, and Jack, with his hands covered in his own blood, he was able to use his own crimson life essence to impale his hands into the God's body, bringing forth his death. "Dear... God... That is the name of this technique." Jack smiled weakly. "I dedicated it to you." "You've been very impressive throughout this whole fight." Heracles' praise shocked the human. "What is the colour of my heart now? Has it changed?" Jack smiled dearly. "No. I have lost." the God's colour was truly magnificent, even in his last moments. "I will never change. Don't forget it. At all times I..." Heracles embraced Jack. "Will love humans." "O God, what a truly stubborn person you are." Jack's voice was filled with love as he watched the smiling God shattering before his eyes. "That was a fantastic fight. I'm sorry I shouted at you." Heracles was no more.

With Jack the Ripper being declared the winner of the fourth match, the little Valkyrie lady returned to her humanoid body. Though she remained a little guarded around him, with their souls bound, she now understood him better... But Jack had no better understanding of the emotions he was feeling after killing Heracles. "You can't even show sadness at such a sad time, can you? You really are a pitiable person." she declared, only to realise she was drenched in blood and desperately needed a shower. As she flew away, she warned him to rush to the infirmary, his injuries were bad enough.

With every step he took towards the exit of the arena, and even when he struggled to pick his hat on the ground, he could only think of the only two people who ever truly loved him, who ever truly cared for him at all. His mother's love was fake, he hated that pretended colour - But Y/N, Heracles... Never before has he met anyone as genuine as them. "If I could have any wish granted... I would wish to see you two again." he fell on his knees, his body failing him from the arduous fight he just had, though as he tried to stand up, he was hit in the head with a rock, making him bleed. Not only the Gods, but the humans also, were throwing rocks at him, cursing him for winning, for killing their beloved Heracles.

What appears beautiful, is filth, someone said.

"Hang in there, Jack!" out of nowhere, half of his wish came true, as he watched the silhouette of his most beloved person running at him. She rushed to throw her arms around him, but he couldn't hold back the groan of agony from his sustained injuries. "Damn, I'm so stupid - Forgive me, I forgot about your wounds. Come on, let's get you treated. I heard the doctors here can do magic that no human can, when it comes to healing." she put his arm around her shoulder, helping him walk. As more rocks were flung their way, Y/N's mother, father, and even Anne came over to defend them, opening parasols. "Silly man. Taking on the alias of one of the most hated men in the world. What was in your head, anyway?" she scolded him lightly. "Ahh, no matter, I'm just so happy you're alive." she leaned up to kiss his cheek. "My dear sunshine." Jack smiled, allowing himself to be taken to the infirmary. The medics took care of him, and when he was bandaged up and ready to go, he left the hospital wing. Y/N was waiting right outside, all alone.

With no words spoken, Y/N guided him to the kitchen where she brewed some tea for him. It was just like old times, when they'd have afternoon tea together. How nostalgic. "Aren't you mad at me for lying to you? Or for getting you killed?" "Nope." she popped casually. "For starters, I have no memory of the time of my death, so that matters naught to me. Even if through some circumstances, I was implicated and killed because of your envolvement in something, it's null. Secondly - I know the man I married. I know you tried to make me believe being kidnapped by Jack the Ripper was just a nightmare. And I know your real name isn't even Jack Smith." she smiled at his flabbergast expression. "But none of that matters to me. I fell in love with you, not any identity you chose to use at each moment of your life." "I don't deserve your love and kindness." Jack's comment only made her scoff at him. "This sounds like our first conversation, as children. Let's not have a repeat of that." she huffed. "Anyway, I was wondering - What colours do I have? And do you like them?" Jack smiled, a soft blush covering his cheeks as he held Y/N's hands, kissing them. "My darling, though you are my shining sunshine, the colours of your pure care for me burn bright like the sunset sky, and your gentle love is as delicate as the gem of your ring."

#record of ragnarok imagine #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok #ror #ror x reader #ror imagine #jack the ripper x reader #jack the ripper imagine #jack the ripper #hack the ripper ror #ror jack the ripper

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amuseoffyre · 6 months

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I got thinking that the most honest and raw details about Ed and Stede's past are revealed in Stede's fever-dream and Badminton hallucination and Ed's coma, when they're confronted by their own subconsciousnesseseses (too many esesesss didn't know when to stop).

I had a pick over some of Ed's dialogue from the Gravy Basket the other day, which was barely even scraping the surface, including his expectation of violence when he's vulnerable, anticipation of hurt/cruelty in a domestic sphere and from a caretaker, desperate need for validation and approval and more.

While rewatching episode 1-4 today, it hit me how much Stede's demonstrate his belief that:

he was and remains nothing more than a disappointment to everyone around him, fit for scorn and derision (covering the parent, spouse and child for his fever dream)

no one would care if he was hurt ("Yeah, congrats")

he was insufficient ("you are such a disappointment")

he was a coward/weak ("He was scared of geese, for god's sake," say the man who shows up holding the goose he forced his son to watch him kill)

his choices, thoughts and fears would be laughed at (All of the above + Nigel)

no one cares about his physical well-being (Standing over him, taunting and laughing while he's in pain)

he was a terrible father by choosing to leave ("They'll never see papa again")

his children would hate him and wouldn't care if he was dead ("scoundrels spare no one")

Messy, emotionally-repressive autistic lad hasn't had anywhere to let out his distress for a long time, because he's never felt safe to do it. Mary says she knew he was unhappy and thought she heard him crying alone and, in a flat monotone, he denied it and said the crying was the wind.

He was conditioned to believe anything he said would be shot down. He wasn't allowed to express opinions and thoughts and his father made damn sure if he did have any, they were scoffed at and ridiculed, whether it was Stede's belief he was fortunate to have comfort and wealth or derision about his belief that he could marry for love. Mary's anger at his ship plan comes in there too, even if her reaction is warranted - he still sees a rejection of him, his ideas and the things he cares about.

It says it all that the only time he really does lose his temper in S1 (not including the meltdowns over things not going to plan) is when Jack is deliberately smashing all his buttons, treating him like his peers and dad used to and then, to rub it in extra hard, pissing on his shoes.

Stede tried to do what he normally did in stressful situations: he was going to go back to the ship so no one would see anything, because Conceal Don't Feel is that man's watchword. He bottles so finely he has an entire wine cellar of Trauma.

Ed catches him before he can leave and Stede's all out of control of his emotions and lets opinions fly and next thing he knows, Karl is dead, the crew are upset and Ed is leaving with Jack. So he learns Do Not Show The Emotions Again and boy, how that spectacularly backfires.

And on that note, watching S2, ohhhhhh there's an eruption coming at some point. He has been pushing it all down, shaking the bottles and stacking them. We've had his flashbacks again. We've had him kill for the first time. We've had him almost lose the love of his life multiple times. He's not dealt with any of that and a storm is a-coming now there's nothing to distract him from it.

Also, in case there's any doubts that his trauma isn't lurking to sneak back up and bite him, look at the man he chose to spend time with after Ed left him when he did something regarded as "man's work": an older man in a bloody leather apron just like his father in the flashbacks.

"You like me for me," he says to that guy, the one who has been reassuring him and validating him and telling him how good and worthwhile he is all day.

Stede "Daddy Issues and Then Some" Bonnet.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #long post

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milkratz · 1 year

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“Just fuckin hold still, ya daft bastard.”

Soap was fuming. Beyond fuming, really, if that was possible. His hands were shaking with barely concealed rage as he fought to open the first aid kit.

“Johnny-.”

Soap couldn’t help but slam the first aid kit down, having been unable to open it with how badly his fingers trembled.

“Don’t Johnny me.”

Yeah, he was mad.

Ghost leaned up, the bare skin of his lower face streaked with bloody and smeared makeup, his mouth open like he was going to defend himself. Soap leveled him with a glare. He sighed, his own face twisting in frustration. And then pain, when he attempted to reach up one hand to fiddle with his mask, and pulled at the wound on his side.

At the show of pain, Soap immediately got back to work, ignoring the tremor in his hands. There was an uneasy silence between them, Ghost hardly making a sound as Soap attempted to thread the needle.

“Stabbed. You got fucking stabbed.” Ghost said nothing in response to this, just hung his head lowly. Whether that was in response to Johnny’s slowly dissipating anger, or the pain in his side, it wasn’t clear.

Johnny worked in silence. He could feel his face tighten as he struggled to unclench his jaw, his lips pulled into a frown; It tugged at his own face wounds, nothing large enough to warrant medical attention. Not like Ghost.

Ghost who got stabbed.

Ghost who got stabbed, trying to protect Soap.

Ghost who got stabbed, trying to protect Soap, because Soap is a bloody idiot.

His eyes burned. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, as he pulled away from Ghost. The stitching was as best he could do; He wasn’t a medical professional and they’d have to wait till Ghost could get seen properly. Until then, this shoddy excuse for stitch work would have to make do.

Ghost’s breath was coming a little heavier now, wheezing a bit as he struggled to inhale deeply. The adrenaline had undoubtedly worn off by now, leaving the pain in full force. Unfortunately, other than some tablets, there was nothing Soap could do for the pain.

“You’re mad.” Ghost wheezed it, his tone blank. Almost confused. “I’m sorry.” He was leaning back on the paper thin excuse for a mattress, one hand resting gently over the sore stitches in his side, while the other reached for his discarded, bloody shirt.

Johnny let out a shuddering breath. “Ahm not mad. Well- Not at you.” It was hitting him now, the guilt. Like a heavy weight, clogging his arteries, crushing his chest. Ghost made a small sound, confused.

“Ahm mad at meself,” Johnny said solemnly. The burning in his eyes came back tenfold, his voice cracking. “Ahm mad ‘cuz ay fucked up and ye suffered for it.”

“Johnny,” Ghost said sadly. His lips were pulled into a tight frown, pulling at the dry skin. “We all make mistakes. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“How cannae not?” Johnny spluttered. To his despair, he could feel the tears he had desperately been trying to blink away begin to fall. He kept his face turned away, but he knew from the way his shoulders shook it was obvious he was crying.

God, he fucked up and now he’s crying over it, like a kid who spilt milk at lunchtime.

“Ya got injured. Because of meh,” Johnny knew his voice was broken, sniffling now. A hand reached out, grasping at his own hand, tugging at him to turn around. He did.

He looked at Ghost, the height difference for once switched from Ghost sitting on the mattress. “Ahm sorry,” Johnny croaked, his free hand reaching to scrub at his wet eyes. His hands had blood on them, most of it dry. He tried not to focus on how the majority of it was Ghost’s.

Ghost was silent - he’d never been one for words, after all. Ghost tugged; Johnny went. He plopped down next to Ghost, careful not to jostle him too much. The stitches were fresh. They didn’t need Ghost to tear ‘em and start bleeding out before Exfil could grab them.

“I’m not,” Ghost said. Johnny looked at him confusedly, too focused on stewing in his own guilt. At the look, Ghost clarified, “I’m not sorry. For saving you.” His lips pursed, like he didn’t know whether to continue or not, and under the dirt and blood, Ghost’s cheeks reddened. Johnny’s eyes were wide at the admission.

There was silence. Then the dams pretty much broke. It was a shoddy one, but that... That sounded like a confession. Johnny’s lower lip wobbled, “G-Ghost.” Tears were now freely flowing down his face, and Ghost pulled Johnny into him.

Resting his face in the crook of Ghost’s neck, feeling his pulse beat against his ear, Soap cried. He cried because he was scared, but he also cried because he was grateful - Grateful that Ghost was still by his side.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod mw2 #the endings kinda shitty but this has been in my brain for a few days #oh well #if you have ideas ples plesase hand em over

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neptunianmars · 2 years

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accessing your Descendant in astrology through shadow work

your Descendant is the cusp of your 7H, the exact opposite from your Ascendant/rising. while our Ascendant is how we exist in the world and what’s seen by others, your Descendant is what is hidden from others. it’s the traits we put in the closet so no one finds them. it’s one of the deepest parts of you, because not only is it out of sight from others, but usually out of sight from the individual themselves. you deny deny deny these qualities and find them impossible to be around, yet subconsciously look for them in others because deep down you know it’s part of who you are. some of these traits aren’t even considered negatively, but you will inherently view them as so. in order to come to balance with ourselves, we much accept the dark along with the light. practicing shadow work is a great way to peer into the closet and shed light on these characteristics in order to cope with them healthily.

Aries Descendant: you deny the individuality in yourself. with a Libra Ascendant, your whole demeanor is dependent on your personal relationships. you hate the idea of figuring out who you are all on your own and rely on others to do it for you. you love to play the amiable card; you are friendly with everyone even if you shouldn’t be, you refuse to take sides, and you refuse to stand up for yourself. people who are too opinionated, loud, or aggressive get on your nerves, so you bury your anger, whether that means you express it only while alone or don’t express it at all. everyone knows the infamous expression: if you bottle it up, the bottle will pop eventually. getting a little fizz in their eyes is better than the bottle cap smacking them in the face. Aries wants you to get off the floor and be your own person, even if that means making a few people upset.

Taurus Descendant: you deny the simpleness in yourself. with a Scorpio Ascendant, your whole demeanor is a result of the life experiences that have shaped you completely. the rollercoaster is all you’ve ever known, and all you think you can have. you shrug off everything that is thrown your way as if it’s normal for life to come with so many trials, and that you would be illusioned to think or want otherwise. you think people who crave a simple life are boring or unattached to the world, when in reality deep down you crave the same thing. you might even feel that a life of simplicity is a sign of immaturity in terms of life experiences, and so you are almost proud of the tribulations you have undergone to become the person you are. Taurus wants you to make a life for yourself that warrants stability.

Gemini Descendant: you deny the logic in yourself. with a Sagittarius Ascendant, your whole demeanor is configured from your views of the world. you rely on real world experiences to bring you motivation and emotion. you love the pure idea of possibility and never take things at face value. you wish other people shared your same level of thoughtfulness when taking into account the world around us. you strive to reach beyond what you already know and take it a step further. you don’t like when people are too reasonable to look past the facts and develop a more insightful opinion, and so you start to completely ignore facts as a whole. your view of the big picture limits you from seeing key facts inside the picture. Gemini wants you to zoom in and see all the undeniable details.

Cancer Descendant: you deny the care in yourself. with a Capricorn Ascendant, your whole demeanor is based on the notion that emotions are optional, and an obstacle. you want to get through life by doing the things you know: working hard and being responsible. you don’t do anything that would damage your reputation as a reserved and professional individual. you are extremely self motivated and love to be in control of your own life, so much to the point you view emotions as something that controls you, and so you hide them from the world and from yourself. letting yourself feel even a small ounce of any mood: happiness, sadness, anger, fear, etc. makes you feel as if they control you and your actions. you look down on people who live in their feelings and embrace them. Cancer wants you to dig into these emotions and just feel them, and understand that they aren’t controlling you, but that they’re a part of you.

Leo Descendant: you deny the ego in yourself. with an Aquarius Ascendant, your whole demeanor is dependent on the idea that in the grand scheme of things, you alone don’t really matter. the world is much much larger than you and you know it with every ounce of your being. you don’t care how people view you because unless you’re a big part of their lives, you think that they’ll just forget you in a matter of time. you are wholeheartedly yourself, because you’re too busy thinking of others to try to pretend to be someone else. you become not only annoyed with people who are too interested in themselves, but also with the society that is interested in them. you strongly feel that no one matters more than another, and that everyone should realize and embrace this. Leo wants you to be interested in yourself and realize that you matter more than you know.

Virgo Descendant: you deny the conflict in yourself. with a Pisces Ascendant, your whole demeanor thrives on your intuitiveness with the world around you. you are a reflection your environment; others will almost always see you how they want to see you. although this can be conflicting because not a lot of people will see you for you truly are, you feel that reality has no boundaries. you thrive on the fantasy of the world and almost enjoy that you can be so permeable. you are annoyed by people who throw harsh realities in your face, and wish that they could see the world as the magical place you do. because of this, you can become too averse to reality and stay up in the clouds forever. you ignore yours and the world’s problems. Virgo wants you to come down to the ground every once in a while and take responsibility.

Libra Descendant: you deny the sociability in yourself. with an Aries Ascendant, your whole demeanor is based off your relationship with yourself. you feel as though you know yourself well, at least enough to be unapologetically you. you prioritize yourself emotionally, even if it means hurting others. you say what you think and feel and have no remorse for it because you are proud of who you are and your beliefs. people who are too wishy washy or act like a doormat annoy you, and so you make sure you are always on a side, especially your own. you hate the idea of other people having a say or influence on who you are as a person, so you push them away. Libra wants you to open up and accept others while granting them the same patience and grace you grant yourself.

Scorpio Descendant: you deny the complication in yourself. with a Taurus Ascendant, your whole demeanor screams stableness and comfort. you appear to be easy going and even-tempered, and want to keep it that way. people who come off too tempestuous are overdramatic and annoying to you, so you hide all of your turbulent, passionate feelings and trade them in for a nonchalant vibe. you feel that if these feelings were on display and someone saw them, they would judge you or think of you differently/negatively for it. in turn, you become passive and start denying your emotions out of habit even when alone or in “safe” environments. Scorpio wants you to look at the deep passion you feel and embrace it.

Sagittarius Descendant: you deny the optimism in yourself. with a Gemini Ascendant, your whole demeanor is limited to what you know to be true. you go through life with an undeniable colorful curiousness that pushes you to look through the facts and stick to them. once you’ve learned something, you feel there’s no need to keep digging to find more answers. you take the world at face value and appreciate it as is. people who keep looking deeper and ask all the unrealistic “what if” questions annoy you, so you stick to your facts and evidence. it’s extremely hard for you to stop focusing on the details and get out of your head even for a minute. Sagittarius wants you to zoom out and look at the bigger picture and all of it’s possibilities.

Capricorn Descendant: you deny the cold in yourself. with a Cancer Ascendant, your whole demeanor comes from your emotions. you feel everything so intensely, and the emotions are very come-and-go but seem everlasting. you wear your heart on your sleeve, and feel that it allows you to connect and care for people more deeply. giving is at the forefront of your nature, especially to the people closest in your life. you open up to these people to show your love and affection. people who come across detached can really upset you, and so while you might be shy, you don’t hide your moods away. you sit and embrace your feelings so much to the point that they control you and your relationships, rather than you handling them. Capricorn wants you to detach yourself from your mood sometimes and develop some discipline.

Aquarius Descendant: you deny the unpredictable in yourself. with a Leo Ascendant, your whole demeanor is focused on you rather than the world around you. you feel that you truly have a place in the world and are determined to find it. you know that no matter how large the world may seem, you alone do matter even if others try to make you think differently. because of this realization, your ego can take over and make you hyper aware of how others view you. feeling like you have the magnifying glass on you at all times can cause you to lose sight of the needs of the world. you become annoyed with people who do not focus on themselves the way that you do, because you feel it is the true path to peace. Aquarius wants you to pay attention to the world around you and learn to love it like you’ve learned to love yourself.

Pisces Descendant: you deny the imagination in yourself. with a Virgo Ascendant, your whole demeanor is based on reality. you see the world for how it truly is, and don’t want to pretend it’s anything else. you like to look at the world as unchanging and unforgiving, because you feel like focusing on dreams only distracts you from cold realities that always find a way to sneak up on you. you can’t help but see everything that is wrong with the world, and wish people were as concerned as you about fixing it. people who aren’t concerned with their problems annoy you, because you feel like you are the only one who is trying. Pisces wants you to relax and find the beauty in the unknown.

shadow work prompts - these are kind of basic/universal but still help!

what are traits that i don't like about myself? can i/should i fix them?

what are traits that i find annoying in others?

what are traits in others that i wish i had?

what is the worst way someone could describe you?

if you could give up one trait of yourself and replace it with something else what would it be and why?

describe your idea of the highest version of yourself.

does any aspect of your current self align with this vision? if no, what can you change to make it a yes?

what are your core morals or values?

are you afraid of what others think? why? how can you remove this fear?

have you ever offered your authentic self to another and been rejected? how did this make you feel?

what is your biggest struggle with loving yourself?

#astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #zodiac signs #ascendant #descendant #birth chart #shadow work #witchcraft #witch tumblr #witch tips #cosmic witch #astrology witch #eclectic witch

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