#But don't worry we know they are meant to be

[spacegyaru]

DON'T LOOK AT IT! PT. 3

your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (rin, isagi, chigiri) was all around the internet. how would they react?

cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. mirror sex on chigiri’s part + angst. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic from rin’s part!

a/n: this is the last part!! unfortunately, i don’t have that much energy to continue this series further and might start writing for another idea 😭🥺i hope u guys understand!!

masterlist | part 1 (shidou, kaiser, bachira, & sae) | part 2 (reo, nagi, hiyori, otoya, and yukimiya)

rin itoshi:

sorry to tell you guys, but his gf has to be a little bratty and naughty enough to provoke him into making a sex tape. i imagine him doing it out of jealousy, he wanna make you moan his name loud while he takes you all-fours and biting your neck a little bit. all after seeing how isagi was being a little bit too friendly towards you.

and that's exactly what people saw on the video. you remember your phone being pickpocketed while you were out for a shopping. when it got lost, rin scolded you a little bit, and reminding you of the video you guys made. you were the one who insisted that he shouldn’t think too much cuz ya boi was overthinking. but his hunches and gut feeling prevailed. the next few days, your name was all over the news.

rin’s team worked on the damage control. he was hesitant to post a public apology, but he did anyways. unlike his brother who has a ‘idgaf’ attitude, rin cares a lot; he cares a lot about his image and your image too. it’s just plainly embarrassing for him.

when you started isolating yourself due to the humiliation you were going thru, rin tried to comfort you.he was never good with words and may have appeared harsh the way he said it, but you knew what he truly meant. you gave him a hug and a kiss due to his attempt to comfort you.

“babe, i know how much you hated it whenever i say ‘i told you so’ so i’ll try not to make you feel worse. but try not to worry about what other people say. don’t check your phone too much. it doesn't matter what they think. what matters most is what we think of each other .”

yoichi isagi:

fuck, even i am wondering. how did this guy have a sex tape? well, it was your idea, but you didn’t think that your bf, isagi, would be super into it. both of you ended up making two-three sex tapes together. at first, it was embarrassing for him. but then once he’s inside you, he gets all pussy drunk and hell breaks. all that can be heard in the background was the loud bed creaks, along with your moans and his groans. your legs are all over the place, while he held your thighs. the lights were a bit dim, but both of your faces were visible.

the following week, you lost your phone while you were sightseeing all alone. you didn’t think that much of it. but the following day, that very same video you created with isagi, was all over the internet. both of your names were mentioned in twitter and apparently, he was placed in trending.

although isagi was very much embarrassed by what happened, he never blamed you for it. he asked his team to focus on the damage control while he released a public apology, addressing what happened. he explained that you lost your phone while on a trip, and are now taking the proper measures to track whoever did spread the video. isagi couldn’t stop apologizing. everyone knew how harsh he speaks whenever he’s at football matches but this time, he seemed like a dorky apologetic machine.

when isagi realized how humiliated you seemed to be, he immediately prepared a romantic dinner for the both of you, buying some wine and steak for the both of you to enjoy. he also bought a bouquet of flowers for you. then he rented a private ship for the both of you, so you could spend time together and get things off your head for a while.

“love, you don’t have to blamed yourself for what happened, you know? sometimes, there are just things that are out of our control and this happens to be one of them. let’s get this off your mind for now, okay?”

hyoma chigiri:

okay so if you wanna do anything new with this guy, you should initiate it because he’s very much of a vanilla. that’s how you ended up having a sex tape with him. the crazy thing is, he was the one holding the camera. you were riding him in a cowgirl position, your ass was bouncing as you went up and down on him. your room was surrounded by mirrors, so chigiri was recording your reflection. his hands were shaking as he was feeling too much pleasure from your pussy. so far, he was able to record almost everything, but he ended up dropping the phone when he orgasmed.

one day, you lost your phone after a long day at work, but then again, you didn’t think anything of it. you just thought of buying a new one instead. but then few days later, you suddenly see your boyfriend’s name on twitter’s trending. when you clicked the link, that exact mirror sex videos were all over the internet. you just sighed upon seeing those. you never expected them to reach online but here they are.

given the situation, you didn’t even have that much space to comfort yourself because you just saw how down and embarrassed your boyfriend looked. he was able to release a public statement, and his pr team did the damage control. but he was so affected by people’s comments about his masculinity. well, the question about this didn’t really matter to him, but what affected him the most is how people would say how ‘hot’ you are and that you deserve someone more dominating and masculine. he was more affected on what people say about you, rather than what people say about him.

so your night with him ended up being a comfort-fest. both of you lay on the bed with hands holding together while you reassure him that what other people said isn’t true. that you only need him to satisfy you and no one else. you thought your night would be sweet and peaceful. until your small cuddle moment turned into a heated making-out session with chigiri hovering on top of you.

“babe, i love how hot you are whenever you're on top of me. i love how your body bounces and tell me how you make me feel good. but what about let me do the work tonight? i'll let you feel every part of me while i dominate you.”

[wlwsoccerfics]

Wife Vs Wife (StephCatleyXFoordReader)

Summary: you Play for Manchester United while your wife plays for Arsenal. You have to play against one another and things don't end well.

Warnings: head injuries,blood

You sat in the changing rooms, headphones on. Listening to your pre game playlist. It was a mix of songs to hype yourself up and songs that helped you find your focus.

Ella sat down next to you. Watching you. There was something different about you today. She tapped you on the shoulder gently.

"y/n?" She asked. You took your headphones off and put them aside.

"yes, Tooney?" You asked her.

"are you okay? You seem a bit...Off today!" She told you. You sighed softly.

"what can i say, i don't like playing against Steph! I know it's Part of the Job but still..." You admitted. Ella gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"you don't mind playing against Caitlin but you stressed about your wife? That's cute!" She told you and you rolled your eyes at her playfully.

The changing room filled with the rest of the Team soon. You guys talked about tactics before it was time to wam up. Which you did with Ella as your partner. Glancing over at your wife and your sister for a moment before your focus was back on warming up.

The game started and it got intense right away. You and Katie got into really heated one vs one situations, pushing eachother and yelling at one another. Kinda funny. Given that you are actually great Friends and she is dating your sister Caitlin. Both of you got yellow cards. Tooney scored an amazing Goal which meant you took the lead. By half time it was 1-0.

You walked back into the Tunnels and back into the changing rooms.

"that was intense!" Maya said, looking at you. You nodded your head.

"it sure was!" You agreed.

"at least Katie distracted you from the fact that you are playing against Steph!" Ella answered. You turned to look at her and frowned.

"yeah i forgot about it...until you mentioned it!" You said and sighed softly.

" i have to play against my best friend as well, so i get it!" She replied. You chuckled a bit at that.

"Tooney you and Alessia are besties so that's different. I mean Steph is my wife! I married her! We have different dynamic then you have with Lessi!" You answered and giggled softly.

The second half started soon and things were intense once again. You and Katie gave eachother hell again. Kyra scored a goal for Arsenal in the 78th Minute. So it was 1-1 now. In the 87th Minute you got a Corner. So you standing by the second Goal Post, your wife was close, so was Katie. You tried to get the ball in with a Header and Steph tried to get it out of the danger Zone. Both of your head collided at that and you both fell to the floor. No one really cared in that moment that the ball got in cause Steph was groaning in pain, tears in her eyes holding her head and you were passed out, a small cut under your right eye was bleeding.

"Babe?" Steph asked. Trying to sit up but couldn't see cause she was dizzy. The medics running over to you. Both Teams forming a circle around you to shield you and Steph from the cameras and Fans.

"Steph, don't move. You might have a concussion." Leah told her. Worried about you and her teammate. Caitlin was kneeling down next to you, tears in her eyes. Fear was evident in the way she looked at you as well. But you didn't knew cause you were out like a light.

"she is unconcious!" Caitlin sobbed out which sent shivers down stephs back.

"what?! Babe please wake up!" She sobbed out. The medics keeping her down when she tried to move. Cause she had a concussion.

You woke up after around a 40 Seconds and turned your head to the side. Throwing up. Yes you had a concussion as well. And the cut under your eye needed to be glued back together. It for sure was gonna be a black eye by tomorrow.

Both you and Steph were taken off the pitch and brought to the hospital for some CT Scans. You both needed to be watched over at night which Caitlin offered to do and Katie was gonna help.

The Game ended with 2-1 win for you Guys.

Caitlin stayed at your place with Katie. You were thankful for that cause that way you were allowed to leave the hospital.

"you look like Shit! Both of you do actually!" Caitlin told you & Steph. You tried to laugh but quickly stopped yourself cause laughing hurt your head too much.

"good thing we look like shit together, right Babe?" You said softly.

"Catley what are you talking about? You Look hot!" She told you. "No matter what!" She added.

"so do you Catley!" You replied to your wife and gave her a small kiss.

"disgusting!" Katie said, making fake gagging noises. But she was only teasing of course.

"but for real, the two of you gave me a Heart Attack." Caitlin admitted.

"sorry." You mumbled out already drifting off to sleep.

"She is gonna hate that we have to wake her every 30 minutes. Same goes for you Steph. So don't get to comfy." Katie whispered out. Steph frowned a bit and then cuddled up to you.

"See you in 30 minutes then." Steph told your sister and Katie before falling asleep as well. You two holding one another. You both slept peacefully on the couch. Well as peacefully as possible in that Situation because Katie and Caitlin took turns to wake you up every 30 minutes. Which sucked cause your head and face were killing you but thankfully you were due for another round of painkillers around 1am. Which both you and Steph took happily.

One good thing came with the concussion. You and Steph had to take two weeks off of Football practice so you had some time for eachother. Which you spend cuddling, going on walks and believe it or not talking about adopting a child.

[whizzing-fizzbee]

I have a doozy of a work week coming up, so I don't anticipate having much time to write. So enjoy this little Valentine's Day angst-fluff-smut combo I’ve been sitting on for a while. Thank you for reading and have a splendid Valentine's Day if you celebrate - regardless, you are loved! ❤️

XOXO, Anonymous

Sebastian Sallow x F!OC

Rating: Explicit/MDNI (smut, profanity); all characters are 18+ Words: 6,323 Tags: friends to lovers, Valentine's Day, love letters, misunderstandings, mutual pining, angst, fluff, Seb is extra stupid in this one

Summary: Sebastian Sallow has been hopelessly in love with Annalisa Lark since the day they met during fifth year. So when he discovers a love letter to Ominis seemingly sent from her, he begins a downward spiral. Once the truth comes out, he'll realize actions sometimes speak louder than words.

Notes: This one's split into two parts in case you want to skip the smut. Part I is angst and fluff. Part II is smut. All characters are 18-year-old seventh years. MC in this one is a Ravenclaw named Annalisa Lark.

Read on AO3 or both parts below the cut.

Part I

Sebastian Sallow trudged into his dormitory, exhausted after a particularly grueling quidditch practice. The room was empty, presumably because all his roommates were already elbow-deep in their dinners. 

Sebastian would have gone straight to the Great Hall to join them, but he’d been neglecting a Potions essay that was due in the morning. He just needed to grab a book and he’d head to the library for a few hours of writing.

Except Sebastian’s Potions book was nowhere to be found. He cursed under his breath as he realized he’d left it in the locker room. With no desire to make the trek all the way back to the quidditch pitch, Sebastian decided he’d merely borrow Ominis’ book. Surely Ominis had completed the essay ages ago.

The book sat on the desk next to Ominis’ bed, resting on its back atop a neat stack of parchment. Sebastian picked it up and moved to gather some parchment and quills of his own when a folded sheet slipped from the book’s pages. It fluttered to the floor and landed face-up, open, as if its contents were meant to be seen.

Typically, Sebastian wouldn’t dare read his friend’s mail. He would never willingly violate Ominis’ trust, not after it had taken him two years to regain it after the events of fifth year. But a few choice words scrawled on the parchment caught Sebastian’s eye as he bent down to retrieve it. He paused, his hand hovering above the letter until he finally gathered the nerve to pick it up and read it.

His tired pout morphed into a full-fledged frown.

Dearest Ominis,

Your last letter made me smile. You have such a way with words that I always find myself re-reading your letters over and over again. I hope they never stop, even if we can one day be together.

Speaking of, have you given any further thought to discussing our potential relationship with Sebastian? I know you’re worried it could sever your friendship, but please don’t. He cares about both of us far too much, and I truly believe he merely wants to see us happy.

I love you, Ominis. I love you, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t. After everything that happened to me during fifth year, I’ve realized life is far too short to be separated from the ones we love.

Please give what I said some more consideration. See you soon.

XOXO, A.

It took a moment for Sebastian to realize his hands were shaking. His palms were sweating and his stomach churned. He couldn’t even pinpoint which emotion had taken charge of his body – disbelief, surely, but what about the betrayal? And the pain… my god, the pain. It slammed through Sebastian’s chest, knocking the wind from his lungs.

He read it again. Call him a masochist, but he had to be sure he understood correctly. He prayed his eyes had somehow managed to trick him, that it had all been a projection of his own deepest fears, or perhaps some cruel prank Ominis cooked up.

But Ominis wasn’t a prankster. And he would never joke about something as complex as Sebastian’s feelings – not when it came to her. Or so he thought. 

Sebastian had loved Annalisa Lark since the day she absolutely dismantled him during a duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. She was stunning to him in every sense of the word, and while their friendship was sometimes turbulent, Sebastian flocked to her like children to candy. He’d never admit to it, though. The only person who seemed to understand was Ominis.

But now, it seemed Ominis understood more than he’d let on. Sebastian stilled himself, the letter still in his hand. Had his best friend really stolen the love of his life? Perhaps that was a bit dramatic. She wasn’t Sebastian’s to steal. He was certain she didn’t even have those kinds of feelings for him. Still, surely Ominis knew about that unspoken gentlemen’s rule about not romancing your best friend’s love interest.

Sebastian’s shock shifted to fury. His conniption swelled as he mulled the situation over. His best friend had swooped in on her. The one and only girl he couldn’t bear to lose. 

He had to toss the letter aside to stop himself from crumpling it into a ball. Knives clouded his vision. He could choke Ominis until the life left his eyes. She said she loved him. She told Ominis the only words that could likely save Sebastian from a tragic demise.

And worst of all, they’d kept their romance a secret from him. They didn’t deem him worthy of sharing their secret. They thought it’d be easier to keep him out of their equation. He wasn’t meant to be a part of their secret society. 

Sebastian sank onto his bed, his gaze wavering in and out of focus. He didn’t know what to do. Should he storm down to the Great Hall and demand answers from them? Should he keep quiet and pretend he didn’t know? Should he make a last-ditch effort love declaration in hopes of stealing Annalisa back to her rightful place?

All of those options made sense in Sebastian’s mind, but Sebastian Sallow rarely made sense when it came to the most important matters of the heart.

Dinner and Potions essays be damned, Sebastian decided to retreat to the Undercroft.

---

“Sebastian! There you are.” 

For the first time in nearly three years, Sebastian was dismayed to find Annalisa in the Undercroft. She was curled up on a sofa she’d conjured during their fifth year, a book open across her lap.

Even from where he stood, Sebastian could see it was a romance novel. She was always reading those, as if she enjoyed the escapism into a world of longing stares and declarations of desire. She didn’t know she was living inside one of those novels; though this one was currently creeping toward an angst-ridden, tragic ending as far as Sebastian was concerned. The trope of his life was morphing from secret pining to the one that got away.

“There you are,” Sebastian replied. It was their routine greeting, a symbol of their bond since they were fifteen. Even in crisis, he wouldn’t stray from it. He needed its familiarity. 

“Where’ve you been?” Annalisa asked curiously as she shifted to one side of the sofa to make room for him.

“Quidditch practice.”

“Did you eat? I didn’t see you at dinner. I have some apples in my bag.”

Sebastian shook his head as he took the other half of the sofa. His posture betrayed him. He typically slouched into his seat, his knees parted while his hands absentmindedly twirled his wand. But tonight, he was rigid, his spine far too stiff and straight to fool her. “I’m not hungry.”

Annalisa frowned, her book now forgotten as she set it aside. “Since when have you ever turned down a meal?” she demanded with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sebastian lied.

Annalisa scowled at him. “Sebastian Edward Sallow, do not play with me.”

Sebastian nearly barked a laugh at the irony of it all. If anything, she was the one playing with him; sneaking around behind his back with his own best friend, penning him passionate love letters while Sebastian had been none the wiser. 

He wanted to be disgusted with her, to lash out and demand answers. He wanted her to know how hurt he was by her decision to omit him from such a significant portion of her life. Even if she didn’t choose him, she could have at least filled him in on her stirring new romance – especially since it involved their mutual best friend.

But Sebastian could never be repulsed by her, even if he felt slighted. She was too much of all the good things Sebastian admired in life – a stunning little spitfire compressed into five feet of fearless conviction. She was compassionate and complex; she didn’t view the world in black and white the way so many others preferred to. She understood the frayed seams between good and evil and light and darkness. 

That realization was the moment Sebastian was certain he loved her. She stood by him after Solomon’s death and offered him unwavering support, because she knew the nuances of right and wrong. She had blood on her hands, too. The difference in their bloodshed was hers was an effort to quell darkness; Sebastian’s bloodshed had embraced it.

Still, Annalisa understood Sebastian at a level that transcended mere friendship, and because of that, Sebastian had grown certain she was his soulmate. But now, he wasn’t sure he knew her at all.

“Sebastian…” Annalisa was still peering at him expectantly. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he insisted, his tense posture still exposing his discomfort. “I’m just exhausted, is all. 

Annalisa opened her mouth, fully prepared to interrogate him into a confession, but the entrance to the Undercroft clanged open again, revealing Ominis’ arrival. Sebastian stiffened even more.

“Ominis!” Annalisa greeted. “Sebastian here was just about to tell me why he’s so moody.”

“Sebastian, moody? I can’t imagine,” came Ominis’ dry reply.

Sebastian was in no mood for teasing remarks. Not when he was the third wheel to the two people he thought he trusted most. His irritation surged, and before he could suppress it, he was on his feet.

“I’ll just leave you two to it then, yeah?” he snapped. 

“Sebastian, what-” 

Sebastian brushed past a stunned Ominis and sulked from the Undercroft.

---

Sebastian hated Valentine’s Day. What a stupid, sordid excuse of a holiday, he thought. He slouched over his corner of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall as he watched his classmates exchange jovial greetings and giggles over romantic gifts. It was positively nauseating. The arrival of Ominis taking the seat across from him didn’t sweeten the day.

“Brooding in the corner on Valentine’s Day,” Ominis mused. “How very cliche of you.” Sebastian didn’t reply. Ominis sighed and set his stack of books on the table between them. “Going to share with the class what’s had you so bent out of shape?”

Again, no reply. Ominis was no stranger to Sebastian’s tempestuous moods. They always became particularly stormy when Annalisa was inundated with attention from their classmates. Today, she sat at the Ravenclaw table with a short stack of valentines and an assortment of sweets surrounding her. Truthfully, Sebastian could cope with that – he’d witnessed their classmates’ attempts to court Annalisa on countless occasions. He was used to that. He wasn’t used to the nauseating knowledge that his own best friend was the one who had secured her heart, and in secret nonetheless. 

“Alright, mate,” Ominis sighed as he gathered his books again and stood. “But Cupid’s arrow isn’t going to find you while you’re commiserating by your lonesome self in a corner.”

As he retreated toward the doors of the Great Hall, Sebastian considered chucking a potato at his head. But something else stole his attention.

Another letter. Ominis must have left it accidentally in his haste to flee Sebastian’s orbit of agony. Sebastian snatched it off the table immediately, took a quick glance around the Great Hall, and read.

Dearest Ominis,

Happy Valentine’s Day, love! Thank you for the gorgeous flowers. They look positively stunning at my bedside. I look forward to gazing at them as the last thing I’ll see before I fall asleep. You are always the last thing on my mind at night anyway.

I am so looking forward to seeing you tonight. I hope it will be just as special for you as it is for me. See you at 7:00.

XOXO, A.

The edges of the parchment curled inward as Sebastian’s hands shook. They had a secret date planned for the night. They were going to have a romantic night together and neither of them felt any obligation to tell him. Their friendship was no longer a trio. They were a pair, plus one, single fool.

Sebastian crumpled the letter and stashed it in his pocket. He prayed Cupid would choke on a pumpkin pasty.

---

Sebastian’s sour mood didn’t stop there. It devolved by the afternoon, until all who crossed his path were at risk of a terrible lashing. 

Finally, Annalisa found him pouting beneath the Transfiguration Courtyard fountain.

“Sebastian,” she said sternly, her green eyes drilling him with impatience. “What is the matter with you? Ominis says you’re positively insufferable. What has happened?”

Of course Ominis called him that. Ominis was a treasonous, back-stabbing traitor who was too cowardly to even admit he was in love. If Sebastian had Annalisa, he’d tell the whole world, and would burn it down if anyone dared to question him.

“Ominis knows exactly what he’s done,” Sebastian snapped. 

“Clearly not,” Annalisa challenged him. “All we know is something has you upset. Stop isolating yourself and tell us. Tell me, at the very least.”

How rich. She was begging him to tell her, when she hadn’t bothered to tell him about her new little love affair.

“Tell you what,” Sebastian said, rising to his feet as he gazed at her with a pointed stare. “I’ll tell you my secret when you tell me yours.”

Annalisa blinked at him. “Secret? Sebastian, I don’t know what you’re on about.”

Sebastian slipped past her to head inside the castle in search of someplace more secluded. “Then neither do I.”

He wasn’t proud of his prickly behavior. It was reminiscent of his fifth year, when his obsession with curing Anne’s curse pushed him into a manic state, void of any logic. He wasn’t that far gone now, but he certainly was allowing his emotions to control him.

Fine. If Ominis and Annalisa were so into writing silly little love letters, he’d do the same.

Sebastian retreated to his dormitory, where he was relieved to find himself alone. He sat at his desk with two blank sheets of parchment in front of him.

Ominis,

It has come to my attention that you have entered into a romantic partnership with Annalisa. To say that I feel betrayed and slighted is an understatement. I thought you were aware of my feelings regarding our mutual friend and would use better judgment. It’s clear the two of you have chosen each other over me, so consider this my resignation from our friendship.

Sebastian E. Sallow

He snatched the parchment up and crushed it in his hand. This was meant to be a deeply personal declaration of deception and distress, not a polite invitation for afternoon tea.

He tried again.

Ominis– 

I know your secret. Consider this the final fallen pillar of our friendship.

See you in hell, Sebastian

Much better. One down, one to go. But the second one wasn’t as simple. 

Sebastian was certain he could be romantic, right? He’d been on his fair share of dates, had plenty of experience with girls. In truth, he had his pick of most girls at Hogwarts. Sure, he didn’t have the family name and wealth that Ominis had to offer, but he had a bright future as an early acceptance into the Ministry of Magic’s Auror program. He was charming and intelligent, charismatic enough to sway most people he encountered to his side.

Surely he could pen one simple love letter. But for as silver-tongued as he was when it came to getting himself out of trouble or convincing his classmates to help him with various endeavors, Sebastian had no idea how to tell a girl he loved her.

He sat glued to that spot for a good hour until the reject pile of letters not good enough for Annalisa’s eyes had formed a small stack on the desktop. No words could convey what he felt for her. No words were pretty or poignant enough. 

Annalisa,

I know you’re in love with Ominis and I don’t want to stand in the way of the happiness you deserve. But if there’s any chance I could ever compete for your heart, please know that I won’t go down without a fight.

I’ve loved you since that first day in Hecat’s class. I know I haven’t made life easy on you, but loving you’s been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. 

Tell me I have even the slightest shot at being yours and I promise you’ll always have my full effort.

Forever yours, Sebastian

It wasn’t good enough, but it was the best he could manage. He wasn’t meant to craft eloquent prose like Annalisa’s favorite romance novels. Because this was real, not a fictional work intended to entertain the masses, and Sebastian wanted to be sure she knew that. This was his brutal honesty, raw and real.

He sighed as he decided these two letters would have to do. He pocketed Annalisa’s and placed the other on Ominis’ nightstand before slinking off to the kitchens to eat dinner in solitude.

By the time he was finished, his pocket watch indicated it was 6:30. Ominis and Annalisa would be heading off to their date soon, likely at some romantic restaurant where they could cozy up to one another away from prying eyes. Sebastian couldn’t stand to picture it.

He had originally planned to send Annalisa’s letter via owl, but impulse control was never Sebastian’s strength. So in an act of desperation, he trekked up to Ravenclaw Tower and lingered outside the common room.

In a serendipitous act of fate, Samantha Dale was just returning from dinner.

“Samantha,” Sebastian breathed in relief. The Ravenclaw stopped in her tracks and lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Sebastian? What are you doing here? Meeting Annalisa?”

“Oh, er, yes. Except I was hoping to surprise her,” Sebastian said, hoping he was convincing.

“Ooh, are you finally taking her on a date?” Samantha squealed. “It’s about time.”

“Oh. Um, yeah, but it’s a surprise. Can you let me into the common room?”

“Of course, right this way.” Samantha led Sebastian inside and gestured toward the girls’ dormitories. “Pretty sure you’ve been up here before, yes? You remember the way?”

Sebastian nodded and thanked Samantha, who continued into the common room. He strode hastily toward Annalisa’s dorm, praying she’d still be there. He knocked gently and felt his stomach contort at the sound of her voice inviting the visitor inside.

“Sebastian?” Annalisa blinked as he creaked the door open. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Sebastian was more confused than her. She was wearing pajamas and she sat up in bed, cozied beneath the covers with a book open. She certainly did not appear to be preparing for a romantic date.

“What are you doing here?” Sebastian asked stupidly. Annalisa snorted.

“Sebastian, I live here.”

“But… you have a date.”

“I do? That’s news to me.”

That’s when Sebastian also realized there were no flowers on her nightstand. What was going on? Was this some sort of prank? A bizarre dream – perhaps an astral projection? He felt sick.

“But… but you and Ominis…”

Annalisa tilted her head, perplexed by the entire interaction as her eyes narrowed in concern. “Ominis? What does he have to do with this? Sebastian, what is going on? You’ve been acting so strange lately.”

“I…” Sebastian’s entire frame deflated, his shoulders slumping forward and his knees threatening to buckle. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Annalisa motioned for him to sit on the side of the bed. She watched him carefully as he did so, his hands resting atop his knees. He looked exhausted. 

“What’s this date you were talking about?” Annalisa asked as she tossed her book aside.

Sebastian sighed. There was no recovering from this. Even if he wanted to get out of this, to sweet talk her with some excuse, he knew he’d only leave with despair in his heart. “I thought you and Ominis had a date,” he said.

Annalisa looked like he’d slapped her. “You’re not serious.”

“I saw the letters. Your letters.”

“What letters?”

“The ones you wrote to Ominis.”

Annalisa felt dizzy, which was alarming because she was certain Sebastian was the one who’d gone loopy. “I didn’t write Ominis any letters,” she said. “Why would I? I see him every day. I don’t need to write him.”

Sebastian’s chest constricted. A flush crept from his neck into his cheeks. His lungs screamed for air. He didn’t understand.

“You’re not dating Ominis?”

“What?!”

Oh no. Had he really gotten it all wrong? How? He’d seen the letters with his own eyes. It all added up in his head. Had he really let himself spiral into an episode of assumptions and self-doubt? 

“Sebastian,” Annalisa continued, her voice a breath of laughter and perplexion. “What the fuck are you on about? Who told you I was dating Ominis?”

“No one told me. I accidentally saw letters written to him – love letters.”

Annalisa was clearly intrigued, another indication that she had nothing to do with said letters. “Love letters? To Ominis? From whom? And what made you think they were from me?”

“I only saw two of them, but they were both signed by the initial A,” Sebastian explained. “And one of them talked about a date tonight.”

“Well, clearly it wasn’t me,” Annalisa laughed. “This book is my hot date for the night.”

“But then, who…” 

Annalisa giggled, her eyes glinting with a facetious, knowing smile. “Sebastian, come on,” she said. “Think.”

“But I don’t-”

“Anne!” Annalisa continued.

“Anne?”

Sebastian froze as all the mental pieces shifted in his brain. Merlin. It made perfect sense – more sense than Ominis and Annalisa.

“You mean Ominis and Anne are in love?”

“Yes, silly,” Annalisa snorted. “Anyone with two eyes can see it.”

“But Ominis has two eyes and can’t s-”

“Sebastian, that’s beside the point.”

“Right, sorry. But… you knew? About them?”

“Not for sure,” Annalisa said. “But it’s always been pretty obvious that those two love each other. They share everything and they really only trust each other… they’d do anything for each other. Of course they’re in love.”

“Oh.”

Annalisa stared at him with exasperated eyes. “You really thought I’d date Ominis?”

“I mean, the two of you adore each other.”

“Yes, because we’re great friends. Surely you know we’d never consider each other romantically.”

“I didn’t think so, but then I saw those letters and… I just thought maybe I’d overlooked something between you two,” Sebastian explained.

“Well, you thought wrong,” Annalisa said. “Obviously I’m not on a hot date with our mutual friend. I didn’t have a date tonight, so I’m enjoying a cozy night in.”

“Oh.”

Annalisa’s brow furrowed as her gaze locked in on the folded parchment in Sebastian’s hand. “What’s that?”

Sebastian swallowed. There was no going back, he reminded himself. But this wasn’t how he wanted to tell her. He wanted to woo her with melodic words and grand gestures symbolic of his feelings. He wanted to make a case for himself she couldn’t refuse.

But if he had to convince her to love him, it wasn’t the right kind of reciprocation anyway. Still, his nerves were getting the best of him. 

“It’s nothing, spare bit of parchment,” he tried to say with a shrug. Annalisa shot him a look. 

“What is it?” she demanded. 

Sebastian frantically scanned his brain for the right words. He only had one shot at this. He had to get it right. 

“It’s a letter.”

“One of Anne’s letters to Ominis?”

“No. A letter from me to you.”

Annalisa tilted her head quizzically. “What do you mean? Why? What does it say?”

Sebastian averted his gaze, his eyes on the parchment in his hands. “Before I hand this to you, before I allow you to read it,” he started. “I want you to know that it was a result of a severe misunderstanding. When I thought you were in love with Ominis… I felt like I was going mental.”

“Is that why you stormed out of the Undercroft and have been sulking so much?”

“Yes.”

“Sebastian, why didn’t you just say something to us?”

“Because I thought you were trying to keep it a secret from me.”

“Why would we do that?”

“To avoid my wrath, apparently. Judging from the letters, it sounds like Anne wants me to know but Ominis is afraid to tell me.”

Annalisa’s lips curved in another knowing smile. “To be fair, I can’t say I blame him,” she said. “This is your sister we’re talking about here.”

“I know, but if there’s anyone I do trust to date my sister, it’s Ominis. He’s the only person I’d trust with her.”

“Well then, it sounds like you both have been making some inaccurate assumptions,” Annalisa mused. 

“I suppose so.” Sebastian raked a hand through his hair. “Look, when I thought you and Ominis were together, I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Sebastian,” Annalisa laughed. “I just don’t understand why it had you so upset.”

“Because I don’t handle jealousy well,” Sebastian answered.

“Jealousy? Sebastian, don’t tell me you’re struggling to find a girlfriend. You-”

It was a good thing Sebastian was absolutely smitten with Annalisa, because for as brilliant as she truly was, she could be quite dense when it came to personal matters of the heart. “I thought Ominis had taken the only person I’m interested in,” Sebastian cut in. He maintained his gaze on the parchment, terrified to watch as the understanding settled within Annalisa. 

“Sebastian,” she breathed.

“Here,” Sebastian said as he extended his arm to offer her the letter. “Now you can have this.”

Annalisa reached tentatively for the letter, as if she knew reading it would change everything. Sebastian didn’t look as he listened to her unfold it. The room fell silent as her eyes scanned his penmanship. When he heard her inhale sharply, Sebastian considered flinging himself out the window.

He wasn’t prepared for her reaction. He had long accepted the reality that she could never possibly love him mutually. She might love him as a close friend, but she’d never understand the magnitude of her presence in his life. She was more than his shoulder to lean on and partner in crime; she was the gravity that grounded Sebastian to this world. If he lost her, he’d lose the anchor that kept the sea of dysphoria from sweeping him away again.

Sebastian decided he’d start by apologizing. He’d tell her he never meant to jeopardize their bond. He hadn’t even meant to fall for her. But he wasn’t sorry for loving her. It was the most genuine emotion he had. 

Then he’d assure Annalisa that their friendship didn’t have to change. He was determined to maintain it. He’d fight every one of his emotions tooth and nail for her. She had to understand that he’d never expect anything more from her than the privilege to merely be a part of her life.

“Sebastian,” Annalisa breathed. He finally turned to look at her and was stunned to see tears welling in her eyes. “Sebastian, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not really a casual topic for dinner discussion.”

“Sebastian, really.” Annalisa sniffed. “You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian averted his gaze again, riddled by guilt and fear. He fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket while both seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Sebastian,” Annalisa repeated. She slipped from beneath the covers to sit next to him. Sebastian fought desperately to think about anything other than the way her silk pajamas clung to her body. “Sebastian, look at me.”

He exhaled slowly as he turned to face her, awaiting his fateful sentence. He assumed she’d let him down gently, tell him they were better off as friends. She was far too kind to raise her voice at him, though she was also fiery enough that she might slap him.

Instead, she threw her arms around him. Sebastian’s lungs deflated as he stilled, stunned by her sudden embrace. 

“Sebastian, you fool. You know I love you too,” she mumbled, her words muffled against his neck. It ignited a new heat that coursed through his limbs. He swallowed as her words clashed with the feeling of her soft lips against his skin. It was a staggering juxtaposition of sweet relief and untamed desire.

She loved him? Had he really managed to overlook that major detail in his life? Had there been signs? Sebastian blinked in disbelief. He'd orchestrated his fair share of stupid events, but this one took first place.

Annalisa closed her eyes as she continued to cling to Sebastian. “You really thought I was in love with Ominis?”

“Ominis is brilliant,” Sebastian offered with a shrug. “Girls seem to like that whole polished and proper thing he has going on.”

Annalisa snorted against his neck and Sebastian couldn’t help but smile in spite of his nerves. “Sebastian, when have I ever been the prim and proper type?” she murmured. The more she spoke and the more her lips buzzed vibrations across his skin, the more Sebastian squirmed.

“That’s true,” he answered, forcing his words until they sounded steady. “You do seem to have a proclivity for chaos and dramatics.”

Annalisa drew away just far enough to peer upward at him with a pointed gaze. Her green eyes gleamed with coquetry. “It’s not like I go looking for chaos,” she huffed. “It just seems to find me… sort of way you found me. Sometimes it’s good to attract chaos.”

“Are you calling me chaotic?”

“Are you denying it?”

Sebastian chuckled. “No. Can’t deny that.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you so tense?”

“Because I just confessed to being in love with you and now you’re pressed up against me.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Oh. Oh.

“I… don’t know.” 

Annalisa offered him a bemused smirk. “Boy, Seb, between that letter and all of this, you sure have a way with words,” she teased. “Lucky for you, you won me over years ago.”

“Years?”

Annalisa rolled her eyes, her impatience evident. “Yes, years,” she said matter-of-factly. “Which is why you should have told me.”

“You could have told me!”

“And ruin the absolute spectacle of you making a fool of yourself because of a couple love letters to Ominis? Never.”

That was enough talking, enough words for one day. Sebastian had spelled it all out, albeit rather awkwardly, but the swell inside his chest made it all worth it. He finally kissed her, which told her more than any stupid letter ever could.

Part II (Smut warning)

“Sebastian,” Annalisa whimpered. “Sebastian, please.”

Her hands were presently tangled in Sebastian’s hair as her legs were tossed over his shoulders. 

Annalisa was quickly learning that Sebastian may not always have a way with words, but he was certainly skilled with his tongue. His letter to her lay on the floor, having fluttered off the bed amid the frenzy of hungry hands and greedy kisses.

“Sebastian, don’t stop,” Annalisa begged as his tongue pressed patterns over her clit. He hummed in response, certain he’d go mad by the way she begged him for more. Her whimpering pleas, the taste of her arousal and the aftermath of their declarations of love had Sebastian teetering on the edge of an insanity that could only be stoked by adoration.

Sebastian’s tongue traced tiny heart shapes across her clit until Annalisa’s thighs tensed and the pitch of her moans spiked. “Oh fuck, Sebastian!” she cried as her nerve endings seared with pleasure. Her back arched off the bed and her fingers tugged at Sebastian’s hair until her orgasm subsided, leaving her chest heaving and her entrance soaked.

Sebastian, still stunned by the day’s revelations, sat back on his heels to admire her. She wasn’t in love with Ominis – his own sister was. But he’d wrap his mind around that part of the story later. The part that mattered now was Annalisa had been his the entire time, and she was eager to prove it to him. After he kissed her for that first time, she had practically climbed into his lap until they were tearing their clothes off.

Once she had caught her breath, Annalisa sat up to pull Sebastian into a long kiss. “Stand up,” she ordered. 

Sebastian blinked. He was enthralled by this bossy new side of her. Of course, one doesn’t save the world from a goblin rebellion by being a timid pushover, but Sebastian hadn’t anticipated this level of dominance from her. It made his cock twitch desperately.

He obliged and scrambled to his feet, holding his breath as he watched Annalisa fall to her knees on the floor in front of him. She took him into her mouth and tightened her lips around his shaft. Sebastian had to lean one hand on the back of her desk chair to support his weight. The suction pulling against his cock was dizzying.

“My god,” he groaned as he gazed downward to watch her work. Her hands snaked their way to the backs of his thighs, fingers pressing into his flesh as she used only her mouth to make him moan. 

Annalisa’s lips released their vice grip to make way for her tongue. She dragged it from the base of Sebastian’s cock upward, over and around the tip, leaving it slick with saliva. Sebastian whimpered at the sight of it. 

“Annalisa, please,” he begged. “Let me have you.”

Annalisa nodded in understanding and rose to her feet to pull Sebastian into a kiss. She nudged him backward to guide him toward the desk chair. 

“Sit,” she commanded. Sebastian obeyed and dropped into a seated position. Annalisa climbed over him, hands clutching his shoulders as she lowered herself. She held her breath, astounded that her quiet Valentine’s Day was ending in such a way. Much better than any of her romance novels.

Sebastian’s fingers dug into her waist as he felt his cock make contact with her entrance. He tensed as she sank slowly, a low whine escaping her throat as she stretched around him. “Sebastian, you’re big,” she whimpered.

“Take it easy,” Sebastian said gently, though every nerve ending in his body was electrified. The scorching heat surrounding his cock was surreal.

Annalisa lifted herself and dipped downward again. The friction made both of their breaths hitch. Sebastian fought to control his body’s response while Annalisa found a steady pace, her cunt gliding over his cock until the room echoed with the sounds of their slick union.

“I love you,” Annalisa whispered, her eyes meeting Sebastian’s as she studied his expression to ensure he was content. 

“I love you too,” Sebastian growled, his hands still pressing into her sides. He marveled at her; the way her full breasts bounced, her cheeks flushed, and her tight walls embraced him. He was desperate to feel her release. He had to know how she’d feel when she collapsed on top of him, her thighs shaking and cunt swollen from the intrusion of his cock.

Annalisa’s eyes fell shut as she worked, her hips rising and grinding as she rested her palms flat against Sebastian’s chest. The chair creaked beneath them. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Sebastian breathed.

She rocked her hips and let out a sharp moan as Sebastian’s cock speared her soft, sensitive spot. “Oh, right there,” she groaned. She repeated the motion, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she lost herself in the sensation stimulating her core. “Sebastian, I’m close.”

Poor Sebastian was hanging on for dear life. His mind was presently reviewing spell patterns he’d learned in Charms class to divert his attention. He didn’t find himself in such a drastic dilemma very often, but this was pure desperation.

Annalisa slammed herself hard down onto him, driving the depths of her walls around Sebastian’s cock until she could feel the familiar flutters. She squeezed and rocked until her walls gave way to her climax, throbbing with relief as she wailed and threw her head back. She collapsed her full weight into Sebastian’s lap, allowing the tip of his cock to settle deep inside her until the final twitches of her cunt evoked his orgasm. He swore as he gripped her hips and spilled within her, earning one final moan from her.

The room’s erotic echoes were replaced with their recovering breaths. Annalisa slumped against Sebastian, her body exhausted from bouncing on top of him, and her head hazy.

Sebastian was utterly spent. His forehead rested against Annalisa’s bare shoulder as the weight of the day’s overwhelming epiphanies settled within him.

Things had taken a turn for the better; a monumental shift in events that he never could have predicted. He felt foolish and guilty for his presumptive behavior, but elated that, finally, for once, things had worked in his favor.

Annalisa was watching him with soft eyes. “Alright?” she asked. Sebastian grinned, his hands tracing light lines up and down the small of her back.

“Alright,” he answered. “Just… thinking about how mental this day was.”

“Only because you’re mental,” Annalisa said as she climbed off him and began fetching her pajamas from the floor.

“Sorry,” Sebastian said with a sheepish smile. “I guess I owe you and Ominis an apol-” He froze, his eyes widening until Annalisa drew back in alarm.

“What is it?” she demanded.

“Ominis,” Sebastian said hastily as he scrambled to his feet and began redressing. “I- I wrote him a letter too. I have to go. I have to get rid of it before he sees it.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad.”

Sebastian flashed her an apologetic grin as he buttoned his shirt. “I might have told him we were no longer friends and to go to hell.”

“Sebastian!”

“In my defense, it was all for you, love.”

“It was downright foolish.”

“I know. Apologies, love. I’ll just go fetch and destroy it and then I’ll come right back, yeah?”

Annalisa sighed and crawled back into bed. “Yes, alright. I’ll be here.” 

Sebastian pressed a kiss to her forehead and sprinted back to the Slytherin dungeons.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Now don't throw tomatoes at me but I'm actually really excited to finally see malleus again— I've always loved malleus since we met him in the story, but I'm also sooo curious about what's gonna happen next,, I'm wondering the obvious thing, about whether or not we might get a parralel scenario like what happened with the KoD and silver will have to "slay" malleus or at least be the one to land a killing blow, but I also saw a really interesting post focusing on how magic is a manifestation of dreams and deep desires and imagination,,,, in that case, I may (VERY delusionally) hope that Yuu finally gets to be a major part of the story for once??? Even reading the novels, there HAS to be something bigger for yuu— while the idea of crowley simply being an incompetent airhead is fun and more comfortable, haven't you thought that meybe he pulled them into this world deliberately??

All to say, what if at some point, Yuu somehow manifests magic in a very dire moment ?? You know lol?? Agh idk. I just want yuu to finally make impactful choices but that IS too much to ask, as far as we can see for now,,, (but hey, that part leading up to ace getting is UM, and the convo between him and yuu,,, it *does* give one a sliver of hope, doesn't it? :') )

Don't worry, no tomato throwing here! 😅 I may not care for certain characters, but I’m not going to shame anyone that does. You’re free to think however you want about Malleus!

dbjsvsJcwhj My personal feelings about him aside, I am actually glad he’s finally relevant to the main story again. He’s missed out on so much of his own book OTL In the time he’s been gone, the fandom has been left to speculate about both his and Lilia’s potential death flags. I really doubt Twst will have the balls to kill off one of them, but it would be cool to at least see Silver delivering the final blow to knock some sense into (not necessarily kill) OB Malleus.

Yes, it’s true that Silver states in the recent update that magic was originally considered “a miracle borne of strong desires from the heart.” But 💦 I don’t think that means Yuu would randomly manifest magic in the final fight?? It feels more like a “let’s save the day with the power of friendship” to me, but I could of course be wrong.

I understand being frustrated that Yuu’s participation in the main story seems to fluctuate a lot, with most of their activity being books 3, 4, and segments of 1, 6, and 7. That’s not much, especially considering how long books 6 and 7 are. Sometimes (even in events) it feels like Yuu is barely there, as most dialogue options don’t involve different reactions from the characters. Even Yuu's quest to find a way home is barely addressed or taken seriously until early in book 7. Yuu hasn't gotten "real" development unless you count them realizing their Disney dreams are prophetic in book 5, taking the initiative to save Grim in book 6, and that dialogue option about them being worried they're not contributing + the related convo with Ace in book 7. All very short moments in the grand scheme of things. And honestly, I think that makes sense for the kind of character Yuu is. A blank slate, a self-insert, an outsider that's easy to exposit information to, someone with which to view the story, characters, and world through. Yuu is primarily there to be the POV character, the lenses, the camera that we see Twst through. They're not really meant to be a traditional "main character". It's possible that Twst gives them a slightly bigger role at the very end (especially with what went down in the dream in book 7), but I doubt it will be a huge triumphant moment where they and they alone save the day or deal the final blow in a crazy act of self-sacrifice. Twst has always been a story that puts the NRC boys first, while Yuu is the observer.

I've noticed that the complaint of Yuu not doing a lot in the story comes mainly from English speaking fans?? And I guess that makes sense, given how western culture tends to emphasize independence and standing out. They want Yuu to reflect that. They want to be the ones to make a difference. I don't even remember ever seeing these same comments from the Japanese speaking fans; it's definitely a less common sentiment for them. The Japanese fans seem pretty content with Yuu being an observer and taking on more of a minor or supporting role. Again, this fits in with what I understand of many eastern cultures. They're demurer, not wanting to stand out too much from the crowd and instead prioritizing group harmony. Very interesting cultural difference to note!

It's a common theory (with many variants) that Crowley intentionally summoned Yuu to Twisted Wonderland for his own nefarious motives. People found him pretty sus right away due to how he seems to not put in any real time or effort into investigating a way to send Yuu home. Plus, there's that ominous opening monologue of his to consider. However, I don't think he summoned Yuu because of their (potential) great magical capabilities. The Mirror of Darkness tells us that it doesn't sense a shred of magic in Yuu, and Leona smells zero magic on them (though that could be because it hasn't technically manifested yet, as some fans claim).

The idea is that Yuu is supposed to be plain. They are supposed to be magicless. Why? To humble the NRC students and to show them that asserting yourself violently or with great magical power ISN'T the way to go. To show them value in strategizing (which Yuu does in the prologue by helping Grim aim at the ghosts), of camaraderie. What does it say about the story's themes if Yuu, the person who is supposed to be showing them the worth of mundane things, is suddenly... "secretly ultra-strong, actually/“just like you guys” (even if it's only a temporary hope-fueled magic)? It might contradict what has already been set up. It also breaks the self-insert appeal of Yuu, since developing magic would also mean Yuu would later have to further develop things like proficiency in magic, best/worst subjects, and an unique magic/signature spell... meaning Yuu HAS to become better "defined", thus losing their blank slate nature. This would surely upset some fans who deeply project onto Yuu, have a Yuusona, etc.

Yuu can still make an impact on the characters and the world--and they have, judging by how much closer the boys are with each other--without having to be The Most Special One or like everyone else. I think it undermines what Yuu has already managed to achieve to say that they haven't made an impactful choice at ANY point in the main story when I believe they definitely have. Yuu made the choice to sign the contract with Azul. Yuu made the choice to approach Malleus. Yuu made the choice to go against Crowley's orders and go retrieve Grim from S.T.Y.X. Yuu made the choice to get Leona’s help with the contracts. Yuu made the choice to stand with Adeuce against Riddle in book 1. Yuu made the choice to let the VDC/SDC tribe train at Ramshackle. Yuu has done a lot, and all without needing to seize the spotlight or to do anything big and flashy. I don't think Yuu needs to be big and flashy. There is pride to be had in simplicity and being humble too. There is pride in representing the 90% of humans in Twisted Wonderland that are ordinary and without magic.

(An aside: so if Yuu wasn’t able to manifest magic in many other extreme instances, does that mean their desire to save Grim in book 6 wasn’t “enough”? That their desire to save Ramshackle, their one and only home in this world, wasn’t “enough”? It implies that Yuu didn’t wish hard enough for these other things they clearly care about and want.)

I think a good way to give Yuu a decent role while staying true to their design as a blank slate would be for Twst to really lean into the whole "beast tamer" aspect that was introduced all the way back in the prologue. This would work well with their deep connection to Grim as well. Assuming that Grim ends up being the final OB... We could easily have the NRC students and staff on the ropes, Malleus at his wit's end after exhausting himself with his own OB, a rampaging Grim about to end it all. And then... one lone figure shakily rises from the rubble and confronts Grim. One human. Magicless, defenseless. A human lost in an unfamiliar world, a human who believes they're useless and don't contribute much. A human who is always in need of being protected by others. But not anymore. This time, it's Yuu's turn to protect what they love--their friends, this world they've come to love, Grim. Ace and Deuce yelling at Yuu to not be stupid, to get back--but Yuu just advances, calling out to Grim and begging him to stop. And maybe it's Yuu's wish that rallies everyone and/or gets OB Grim to hesitate. That's when they can strike. Is that corny? Yeah. Does it sound like the ending to a Disney film? Sure. But it still grants Yuu, a magicless human that is supposed to be there to teach everyone about friendship, cooperation, and humility, their big moment to shine. The best of both worlds, I'd say.

[ledesaid]

Almost Complete - Shazam without Achilles

↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕↕

AU - Billy receives the news, not all his sponsors agreed that he was to be the new champion of magic.

Solomon was happy to guide him with his advice. ▲ Hercules was convinced that he would be a great lion when he grew up a little. ▲ Atlas was very kind and is willing to bear some of the weight of the new champion. ▲ Zeus had given his approval in consensus with the choice of the wizard. ▲ Mercury really enjoyed feeling the strength of speed through Billy again. ▲ Achilles, yes, this Achilles... He didn't want him fighting for justice or fighting in general. He was completely against a child throwing himself against evil, injustice, pain, and many more things that Solomon hushed up so as not to worry Billy. ▲ It was non-negotiable, Achilles would not give his gift until Billy was an adult or understood the magnitude of what it meant not to have it.

Then...

Yes. There was something that didn't come in the demigod package instructions or even in the warnings...

Billy receives an echo of all the damage he recibes in his divine form.

And boy... does it hurt!

Billy has paraded through all kinds of injuries. Black eyes, some broken or bruised bone and he is proud of having recovered from all of them.

Although...

People are too scared about his integrity.

So, there was only one alternative left, you know, that's why he left the orphanage and all his previous foster homes.

He had gotten used to the whole system and was at a dead end at the same time. But he didn't want to give rise to misunderstandings... Misunderstandings that would generate a barrage of abuse reports... heavens.

That wasn't heroic.

"What happened to you, Billy?"

"Sorry, I fell again..."

Billy doesn't want them to get involved. He wants to be a hero and is willing to bear that weight. That's why he took what little he had and escaped.

So he is opting for a word-based approach. Talking is better than hitting. Solomon always whispers it and, given his situation, he tries to hold on as much as he can.

But sometimes... one cannot choose.

Hal: Cap, are you okay?

Marvel: Yes! It's just going to leave me an ugly bruise. Do you know... Do you know how to heal a rib at home?

Hal: We'll fix it in the Watchtower, Cap. Can you still fight?

Billy knows he should say no. The blow broke a couple of ribs, he has felt a tingling sensation, the magic has healed the blow... But the echo of the damage will leave him with a broken rib.

Another blow in the same place and it could be much worse... Going to a hospital and returning to the system... Goodbye Captain... Goodbye freedom... Hello endless persecution.

Marvel: Yes, throw it at me, I'll send it to jail with one hit.

Hal: That's the spirit, Cap!

With the end of the day, Captain Marvel delivered the final blow.

But the one who really took it was Billy.

As usual, the infirmary in the Watchtower did not detect any damage in his adult form... But they didn't know what awaited him in Fawcett.

Marvel: Batman, sir, I need to take a couple of weeks off. I have an urgent matter to attend to and it cannot be postponed.

Batman: I'm going to send the notice, so we can support you in your city. Thanks for today, Captain.

Marvel: Thank you very much too Batman, I don't know what I would do without you.

Batman: Captain... Are you sure you're not hurt?

Billy: I-I have the resistance of Achilles, remember? I mean! Of course, I'm not hurt, Mr. Batman!

Billy narrowly escapes and prepares. It's time.

That terrible moment in his superhero career...

The curtain must fall.

Billy has already thought about it. The magnitude of the injury...

He must transform as close as possible to the hospital. If he can walk, he will go to his hideout and if he can't, he will have to surrender. Escaping will be terrible, but he would think about that when the time came.

It takes a while, pronouncing that word is so easy... But now it brings a bitter taste.

Sha... Sha...

Billy sits down. It will hurt less if he is sitting when it happens.

Billy: Shazam...

Billy faints next to an alley. It's the last thing he sees before waking up in the hospital.

He wears an oxygen mask.

His head hurts... Had he also hit there?

There were several devices connected, oh, and a social worker next to his bed.

He rejoined the Watchtower three weeks later. Batman had many questions, and Captain Marvel did what he does best: he escaped.

[crochetnerdsworld]

Secret's Out (Katie McCabe/Reader)

Arsenal teammates Y/N and Katie have been secretly dating for a while now. When Kelley facetime unexpectedly, she finds out and insists Y/N brings Katie to the US.

Y/N groans as her phone goes off. It's early morning. Half awake, she grabs a hoodie off the floor and slips it on quickly. Leaving the room so as to not wake her longtime girlfriend, she answers the facetime, smiling as she sees it is Kelley O'Hara. 

When Y/N first joined the USWNT, she was only sixteen. Having grown up with her uncle as her guardian due to her biological parents being deemed unfit to care for her, she really did not have much family support. Her uncle loves her, but often was forced to work long hours in order to make ends meet so the pair were never extremely close.

Kelley O'Hara was roomed with Y/N and took the young girl under her wing, claiming her as her and Alex's child (Alex went along with it, used to her girlfriend's antics at that point). The three have remained close ever since that first camp and Y/N views them both as her mother figures. Both are protective over their "child" and will fight anyone who hurts her. Needless to say, they were very proud when Y/N got asked to sign with Arsenal, but were worried about her going overseas by herself. They were slightly less worried when it turned out Emily Fox, Y/N's best friend, would be signing with Arsenal, too, but both check in with Y/N daily even though she's been with Arsenal for over a year. 

"Hey Kel. What's up?" Y/N asks, yawning. 

"Hey kiddo. Nothing much, just checking in," Kelley replies.

Katie Mccabe chooses that moment to emerge from the bedroom, a frown on her face due to having woken up without her girlfriend beside her.  Not fully awake, she goes up from behind Y/N and wraps her arms around her waist, resting her head on her shoulder.

"Ye left me alone," Katie pouts, causing Y/N's eyes to widen. She and Katie weren't public with their relationship, wanting their privacy from the media. Y/N really had meant to tell Alex and Kelley, but she just never got around to it. 

"Y/N..." Kelley states.

"Kelley..." Y/N , replies, an "Oh Shit" look on her face, already going for the end call button.

"Don't you dare hang up on me, kid," Kelley warns, "Alex! Alex get your butt in here!" 

"Well gotta go bye love you," Y/N says before quickly hanging up and turning towards Katie, "Well, guess they know now?" 

"Ye, guess they do. They were going to find out eventually," Katie shrugs.

Just then, Y/N's phone is infiltrated with multiple messages from both Kelley and Alex:

Surprise. You are the winner of two plane tickets to San Diego. Nonrefundable. Bring your girlfriend. I just want to talk to her -Kelley

I love you, Y/N/N, and I know you have a good reason for not telling us sooner. We can talk when you get in. I promise I'll try to reel in Kelley, but she's already in mama bear mode. See you soon -Alex 

"O'Hara's going to murder me," Katie groans as she flops onto the couch in a dramatic fashion.

"Nah, she's all bark no bite" Y/N shrugs, joining Katie on the couch.

"Tell that to anyone who's fouled you or Morgan in the past. Pretty sure she punched one of 'em," Katie replies.

******

"They should be here soon. Now, what did we talk about?" Alex questions.

"No murdering Mccabe," Kelley pouts. 

"Good. Get to know her first. Emily says she's really nice and treats Y/N well. You know Fox would kick her butt if she wasn't," Alex states, pecking Kelley's lips softly.

Just then, the doorbell rings and Kelley opens it to reveal Y/N and Katie. Alex ushers the pair inside, hugging Y/N tightly, Kelley doing the same.

"Right then. You hurt her, I will kill you, got it?" Kelley states as she pulls away from hugging Y/N, glaring daggers at Katie.

"Got it," Katie mumbles. In her defense, Kelley O'Hara can be scary when she wants to be. 

"Perfect. Now, what do you two want to do for lunch?" Kelley nods, clapping her hands together. 

[wooyoungbf]

[img id:

screenshot of a tumblr text post, in response to an ask. it reads:

saxifraga-x-urbium said "You can't just casually mention garlic cock man and not tell the story that's against the law"

the reply from stammsternenstaub reads

Are you sure you know what you're asking of me? Are you sure? Well, okay. But don't say I didn't warn you.

This post is long and contains description of genital injury.

So as you'll know, worked three and: a half long, hilarious years at an NHS sexual health and contraception clinic. I loved that job, and packed it in because the Tory cuts to the service meant running it became hideously untenably stressful, but that's a story for another time.

One of my duties at the clinic was to take phone calls. Patients liked me on the phone because I have a nice voice and I'm basically completely unflappable, and they felt happy to tell me things. A vital skill in the wang biz.

One day, a man called. This was not unusual, "Hello," he said. "I need to see one of your nurses about my, er, my chap."

"Righty-oh sir," I said, "are you experiencing any symptoms that you're concerned about? It's just a yes or no kind of question."

"Well," he said, and I instantly felt a dark and terrible energy pulsate down the phone. "Well... sort of. But, uh, it's not symptoms of anything, it's just..."

I would come to regret what I said next. "Is everything all right, sir?"

"Well." There was a pause heard fidgeting. "I got a yeast infection."

Phew, easy peasy. Yeasties are easy to fix. I sounded reassuring and buoyant. "Well that's nothing to worry about, sir - if you don't want to get anything over the counter from the chemist, we can-"

"No, no that's not the problem. Listen -" he sounded serious. "Listen, I'll just tell you what's the matter, and you'll see what I mean."

This is where, whenever I tell this story, I like to ask the listener to play a little game with me. The game is "Where Would You Tap Out?" I'd have already tapped out by going to the chemist and getting some Canestan.

"I didn't want any chemicals on my chap, so I decided to go for a home remedy. Internet said garlic was good for yeast infections, and I've got a lot of garlic, so I figured that'd be all right."

I made sympathetic noises. Home remedies for yeast infections are normal, and garlic is actually quite effective. "Oh good," I said.

"I wasn't sure how much to use, but I figured, I have lot of garlic usually, so I minced a whole bulb."

The dark energy wafting down the phone intensified.

"I packed it all over my, you know, knob, made a poultice. Packed it all over the head, like a hat But, uh, Iwasn't sure how to keep it on.."

I couldn't say anything. I didn't want to scare him off by sounding judgemental.

"..so I just duct taped it all on. Wrapped duct tape all round it."

Still with us? Tapped out yet?

"So er, that worked, kept it on nice and tight, and I left it on over night."

Over night. All night with your cock mummified in garlic paste like some sort of fiendish chicken kiev.

"Caustic,"' I said, before I could stop myself. "Garlic is caustic."

"Yeah! Yeah, it is!" he said, sounding cheerful that l, too, understood the Way of Garlic. "So I unwrapped my dick and, well, it looked kind of like... melted."

I sat, silent, on the phone. Already I'd missed 6 other calls, watching them sail by on the other line while this saga unfolded.

"So I figured," he continued, the terrible juggernaut barrelling unstoppably through this phallic disaster, "I should probably exfoliate it."

"Exfoliate," I echoed weakly.

"Yeah," said this abject human disaster, misinterpreting my echolalic expression of horror as hearty encouragement. "So I had a look around the kitchen -" he was in the kitchen for all this "- for anything I could use and got my brillo pad-"

For anyone not in the UK, that's what we call one of these:

(a picture of a stack of green scouring pads)

I must have betrayed myself and given a gasp of horror at that point, because he quickly reassured me - "No, no, no, it's okay - it was a new one!" before going on to describe scrubbing the affected area to

remove the alkaline chemical burn that he'd inflicted on his poor, blameless cock.

"So you want to come in because of. this?" I said, assuming he would want a new dick by this point.

"Oh no, no " he said, jovial again. "No, it's all fine - it just, my knob's gone all... well, it kind of looks camo print now. I was wondering if you could do anything about it looking camo print."

No, sir. No, neither we nor anyone else can do anything about your camo print garlic cock mistake.

/end id]

okay so I don't know how to look it up but there was this reddit story about a guy who heard you could use garlic as a home remedy for an std and /wrapped his dick/ in garlic cloves and duck taped them on. when he took it off his dick looked all "melted" (because of the fucking CHEMICAL BURNS from that). so he tried to scrub the melted parts off with a brillo pad. he called a doctor's line not because of all that, but because the brillo pad made his dick "camo print".

Well he wasn’t worrying about STDs anymore

OK seriously though I’ve never heard of that guy and I am sad that he didn’t have access to better information.

[coffeecat1983]

Preview of something I've had on the back burner.....

Takes place a while after the second Sonic movie. Note I haven't seen the third one, so.... yeah. Also I need to catch the Knuckles series sometime.

 "I don't think Robotnik is lying." Maddie said. "This is too complicated, too emotional to be some trick to get back at us. You've seen what he's like; arrogant, over-the-top, always trying to be the center of attention. Now look at him, Tom. Something is definitely worrying him."

Tom glanced in at Robotnik again. The scientist remained quiet, a distant look in his eyes as he stared at the floor.

"He looks lost. Kinda, kinda like he's broken inside." Sonic said.

"You're not wrong there, bud." Tom agreed.

Maddie waved the paper. "And this? The date on this paper is just over a month ago, and from what I saw on that screen, Stone's gone downhill quickly."

Sonic picked up the video device and opened it. Stone was sleeping. Wires and tubes led away from him, all connected to various machines and monitors.

His breathing was uneasy, nearly ragged, his eyes moving rapidly beneath the lids. Sonic knew what that meant, he had seen it with Tails, especially when the little fox had nightmares.

     "We can't leave him like this." He said, closing the device.

If ya want to see more, lemme know!

[undyslady]

Belmont's Newcomer

Alucard x Reader

☆

The small village was slowly turning into a fully functional one. Everyone's work was reflected in the small but comfortable houses around the large haunting castle. The castle did not seem so haunting now, actually.

Under Sypha's commands, everything fell into place and everyone had no one to thank but her because even in her pregnant state, she put together a prosperous community.

The village had attracted some newcomers here and there but not many had stayed long, except for her.

It was the calmness and seclusion of the village that had pulled her like a moth to the light. It was something she craved, quiet and tranquility.

It was one of those rare hot days, where the meals had to be prepared outside and everyone would hold a large picnic. Sypha separated portions to everyone, prioritising the children, while Trevor handed out water and fresh juices and that was only because Sypha spent 30 minutes bullying him into doing it.

To Alucard, this crowd helped ease his loneliness and kept his dearest companions near him, he felt the most content he had been in a while. The sun warmed his skin,  sighs left his lips as if his exhaustion evaporated into the heat of the day.

The small moment of stillness was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on grass, something so quiet yet nothing was ever quiet to Alucard. He opened his eyes, to be met with a face he was not too familiar with.

A face of pale complexion, large brown eyes staring down at him with something akin to curiousty, plump lips formed into an awkward smile and long brown wavy hair put into a side braid summed up the woman before him. She held up a plate of food and water hurriedly, as if she feared he'd ask why she was there.

"I do not know if you can eat this food but.." she knelt to place the food on the warm grass next to him and looked up at him "here it is."

"I am sure I can eat it" he said in his usual velvet and smooth voice. "Thank you". He gestured for her to set the playe beside him and expected her to leave, however he was proved wrong.

"Do you care for company ?" she asked, but she was already sat beside him before he could answer.

"Suppose I don't mind company" he replied, eyeing her in an analytical manner.

"AH, so easy to befriend.." she exclaimed, leaning to the side* "...all you care about is draining me of my blood isn't it ?"

What a strange woman..

"You caught me, all I care about is trapping you, and pouncing on you so I can feed" he said, chuckling slightly.

"Oh dearie me!! I am caught with no escape!" She exclaimed dramatically as she fanned herself, faux worry written on her face.

"Oh yes, completely at my mercy" he played along, an odd smile in his face.

She cleared her throat, looking up at him with the best puppy eyes she could give.

"Then...if you help me get water from the pond, I promise not to put up a fight" she batted her eyelashes at him. It was adorable to him, a small part of him melted to this display but it was clear she only meant it as a joke.

"AH, I am being used..." he said shaking his head, standing up slowly "tsk tsk, here I thought I found a true companion"

He extended his hand to her, who gladly took it and hoisted her up.

"Well perhaps you may guarantee a true companion if you entertain me while we walk to the pond" she said, giving him a sly smile as she began walking, Alucard beside her.

"I have many stories to tell" he trailed off, glancing at her.

"Oh oh oh! I have a question!" she practically jumped at the thought of being lend the knowledge of his year.

She inched closer to him, awaiting permission.

"Well, how could I refuse a companion like you.." he said, shrugging and taking slower steps so she would not fall too behind.

"Okay, okay.." she inhaled deeply, "do your fangs suck blood in or are they there only fore piercing the skin?" she asked, but  before he could answer her voice rang through the space again. "Can you eat our food because you are half human ? Do you ever get tempted to drink from a human ? Please don't let it be me, we are very secluded right now! Ohhh but I am so curious to how it would feel...can you make it less painf-" a loud sigh cut her off as he only shook his head, rubbing his temple.

"I should have never let the villagers open their gates to you"

A sarcastic remark that left her standing in one place, mouth agape as she whined.

"Heeeeyyyy!!!"

"Hurry, or I will leave you behind in the woods." He gained another companion.

[phiehasleaves]

secrets and confessions - han jisung

——————————————————————————

with great difficulty, you'd hidden your relationship for the past few months, only to accidentally slip up now.

——————————————————————————

han jisung x reader

w/c - 720

fluff

——————————————————————————

everyone had settled onto the sofa's in the living room, waiting as chan flicks through various movies, attempting to find one that you'd all enjoy.

you were currently squished in-between han and hyunjin, felix on the latter's other side. changbin, chan and minho took up the other sofa as seungmin and jeongin resorted to laying on the floor, pillows and blankets providing a makeshift mattress for them.

han's arm softly drops onto your shoulder, pulling you further into his side. his fingers move absentmindedly, drawing shapes across your arm.

"can you cook again tomorrow?" he asks, head turned to face you fully.

you look up at him, "it wasn't that good."

"it was better than minho's."

"okay..." you eye him suspiciously. nothing was better than minho's food. "what do i get in return?"

it takes a short moment for him to think of an offer, "breakfast in bed."

you shake your head, suppressing an amused laugh, "you'll wind up setting the kitchen ablaze, so i'm gonna have to say no to that one."

he smiles, looking away as he racks his brain harder. a squeeze of your shoulder and he turns back around, "this one you're not going to pass up," he smirks before continuing, "as many kisses as you want, and-"

a snort sounds from beside you, "why would she want kisses? that's a terrible- oh!" hyunjin's face contorts, mouth open in revelation.

both your's and han's eyes widen as you stare at the boy.

"he- he was joking, right?" you blurt out, glancing at jisung as he slowly removes his arm from you.

his hair bounces as he nods, "it was a silly joke, meant nothing."

the loud commotion of your desperate voices draws the rest of the boy's attention to you three.

"what's up?" chan questions first, a small smile on his face.

unfortunately, hyunjin answers before either of you can, "they're in love!"

gasps echo along with multiple 'what's and 'huh's.

you shake your head, "we're not in love." a futile attempt at settling them down.

"we're not?" han's voice is small from beside you.

eyes lock onto his once again, "i- i don't know... are you?" you cross your arms. this was a topic you'd never spoken on. you know it's not that big of a deal, yet you still feel nervous for his answer.

"maybe." he scratches the back of his neck, glance flickering across the many people behind you. "maybe we should talk about this in our room?" you were lucky that you shared a dorm, made it so much easier to sneak around.

although, that's probably not going to be much of an issue anymore.

"no, no, no, talk here." seungmin waves his hands around, legs crossed as jeongin grins behind him.

"i don't understand," changbin leans forwards, "you two are dating?"

"yeah" you nod.

chan nudges his shoulder, "but they might be in love." a teasing smirk plays his face.

the boys laugh. you drop your head into your hands, rethinking all your life choices.

the weight of the sofa shifts.

"okay." han's voice is clear as you look up at him, "we're gonna leave you guys to gossip."

he takes your hand, guiding you out of the living room and into your bedroom, the pair of you ignoring the playful comments thrown as you exit.

"thanks." you mutter, moving to stand in front of jisung who's now sat at the edge of his bed.

his eyes shine as he cranes his head to look at you, a pitiful smile on his face. "maybe i should've thought harder before speaking."

you laugh softly, "yeah, maybe. but at least now we don't have to hide." raising your hand, you gently brush through his hair, watching as his eyelids flutter closed. "i'm sorry i said we weren't in love."

"don't worry, i blame hyunjin for it."

his hands grab your legs, pulling you forwards as he rests his forehead against your stomach.

without thinking, those three words leave your mouth, "i love you."

doe eyes stare back at you, mouth forming a natural pout. "you mean it?"

you lean down, both hands holding his face as you kiss away his pout. his shoulders slump as he melts against you.

his voice is soft as you break apart, "i love you too."

[beef-brisket]

Adam sighed. He's too old to deal with this shit.

Adam: Next time, you take one. Or two at the most, alright? Don't take a whole damn handful, you little bastard.

Lucifer laughed: twoooo then~.

Adam: Yeah, two... now go to sleep, okay?

Lucifer whined: What if you're not here?

Adam: When?

Lucifer: W-When I wake up...

Adam sighed. It'll be great revenge to leave this fucker alone. But he couldn't do it. It must be Charlie rubbing off on him because seeing Lucifer clinging to him and worried that Adam's going to leave, actually made him feel bad.

Adam: ...I won't leave.

Lucifer smiled and nuzzled into Adam's chest: I would~. I diiid~.

Adam sighed: I know you did... go to sleep, yeah? I'll be here...

The king stayed silent as his breathing evened out.

Well, it looks like Adam's trapped for a few hours. Poking the kings shoulder, he didn't move or anything.

He should push this fucker off him. But he couldn't it. Wiping his eyes, Adam cursed himself. He's meant to be over this bullshit.

And here he is, getting emotional about bullshit that didn't matter. Lucifer will probably wake up and be pissed off again. He only came here cause he's off his ass.

Adam: ...Fuck sakes...

-

Lucifer slowly came to, groaning as he moved to sit up. Great, now his back was killing him.

Looking around, his eyes widened whe. He noticed he was in Adam's room. That's when everything came rushing back.

Looking to his left, he smiles softly.

Adam stayed. And he's asleep. And he doesn't look like he's going to wake up any time soon.

Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, Lucifer jumped when his phone started buzzing.

Char: Hey, dad. Could you come downstairs?

Smiling, Lucifer sent Charlie a quick text before slowly getting off the bed and walking out of Adam's room.

-

Lucifer: Hey Char. What's up?

Charlie: Angel wanted to speak with you, dad.

Lucifer: Oh?

Lucifer looked up as Angel awkwardly walked over. Was he always this tall?

Angel: Uh- heya, short king.

Lucifer smiled: Evening Angel.

Angel: I uh... just wanted to apologise again. That was really shitty of me- I just... didn't think.

Lucifer: Thank you for saying that, Angel. I'm sorry I freaked out, but I'm sure you understand.

Angel: You're okay, Lu. I get ya. I'd be protective over my kid if I had one.

Charlie smiled as her dad and Angel talked, sharing a drink at Husks Bar. She was so distracted that she almost didn't see Alastor standing next to her.

Charlie: Oh! Al-! Sorry, I didn't see you there!

Alastor smiled: That's quite alright, my deer. Would you be able to alert Adam that we need to start dinner preparations.

Charlie: Yeah, of course... I haven't seen him since this afternoon, actually. I'll go find him for you.

-

Adam was sitting on the edge of his bed when he heard someone knock at his door.

He swears if it's fucking Lucifer, he's kicking his ass. He begged Adam to stay and then once he's awake, he fucks off?

Little prick.

Charlie: Adam? You there?

Sighing, Adam got up and opened the door.

Charlie: Oh! There you are! Al wanted me to get you for dinner prep!

Adam groaned. Fuck sakes: Yeah, thanks, babe. I'll go see him.

Charlie: Great! Thank you, Adam.

Adam waved her off and headed downstairs- where that short bastard was drinking. With Angel. He left him to come drink?! Little cunt.

Lucifer: There he is! Looking so awake this late at night!

Adam: Fuck you.

Angel and Lucifer laughed, making Adam glare at them.

He's over these bastards. He needed to get out of here, but it'll have to be after dinner. Fuck it all.

The Hotel Yard

Adam: So, Lucifer hadn't heard this yet but there is an AI version of our show already.

Lucifer: Shit, okay.

AI Lucifer: Hello everyone I'm with my co-host Adam. And might I say you look like you've escaped from a mental institution.

Adam: So already you start off with insulting me

Lucifer: Yeah but we take turns

Adam: Giving blows to each other

Lucifer: Yeah we take turns blowing each other.

Adam: HAHAHA!!

AI Adam: That's not nice Lu

AI Lucifer: No, but you want to know something else? We're gay for each other.

Lucifer: What!? Hahaha!

Adam: Fucking Jesus hahaha!

I love these goobers so much 😂

AI Adam: We love recording this podcast. But our fathers hate us.

Lucifer and Adam nearly die if laughing.

Lucifer: W-What the fuck?!

Adam: It's not fucking wrong, dude!

[radfemfessing]

I have the unicorn type boyfriend that some straight/bi radfems talk about finding, like he never makes me do a single chore around the house, sex is all about pleasuring me, I always finish first, he has never raised his voice at me or sworn at me or harmed me in any way, gives me whatever I want when I ask, is very anti porn, anti bdsm, not religious, very hygienic, does not want children and supports me wanting to be child free, etc. All of my female friends and coworkers say I'm "spoiled," and at the end of the day I still do not feel fully satisfied. I hate to say this because I do love him, I feel very lucky that I found him, and I still feel like I have lost some of my personhood in the process of being together. I don't know if it's because I had an interest in radical feminism years before we met. I don't know why some interactions feel misogynistic to me even if nothing is explicit. I still don't know if I can see myself being happy with a man forever. I feel like all of this considered, I do not see the push among so many radical feminist OSA women to still keep men as a possibility for the future. I found the "perfect man" that everyone talks about and at the end of the day I still feel like "his girlfriend" and not like my own person anymore. Something feels missing. I feel like it's not even about the man ultimately. It's about YOU. Women, in my opinion, were not meant for this. You're all worrying about the man when you should worry about you. There's a reason so many women feel so empty and alone even without any interest or knowledge of radical feminism, even without abuse or harm. I feel like we all deep down know something is wrong.

🥅

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

i yearn for ponyboy angst after johnny and dally die and for once he needs darry and not soda...or more of the curtis bros grieving their parents/their friends/their childhoods together. just curtis bro angst all day every day. love ur stuff!

AGH!! TY LOVE!! this ask has been truly rottin' in my brain I thought about it durin' my ENTIRE shift today!! I hope you like it!! fic under the cut!!

also song >:D

"Pony?" Darry's sayin' my name in a way that implies he's been sayin' it a while. I blink at him 'n I don't know where I've been. My fingers are all wrapped up in my jeans, white-knuckled. I try to relax but my body doesn't listen to me one bit, so I forget it.

"I've been callin' you, where were you at?" He crosses the room 'n taps a finger gently to my temple, brushin' my bangs off my forehead.

I shrug 'n he worries at his lip. "Somewhere else, I guess." Darry looks stricken but that's how he always looks nowadays: worried.

"I gotta talk to you about your hair, Pony baby." I inhale sharply 'n Darry's face twists up a little more. He moves all slow, eases down onto the couch beside me 'n wraps an arm around my shoulders like I might fall to pieces.

"I'm not colorin' it I swear to God I'm not-" Steve had made a joke, some comment, maybe even just a suggestion, that I dye my hair back to its normal color. I don't think he meant anythin' bad by it. I dunno. I can see it more now. Darry's rough 'cause he's scared. Steve was mean when he meant to be kind. I think Dallas was like that. Rough 'cause he didn't know how to be soft.

I think I said somethin' awful to him. I was always doin' that. Bein' cruel 'cause it all hurt so bad. Last week Darry 'n I had fought 'cause it's all we knew how to do 'n I'd told him I bet he wished I had died that night. Just like-

I didn't mean it. I never meant it. I didn't know how to not mean it.

"Honey?" I shake my head. Darry's lookin' at me again with big scared eyes 'n I know I've done it again. Gone somewhere.

"Sorry." Darry cups the side of my face, there are new wrinkles alongside his eyes. He always looks like he's just waitin' for somethin' bad to happen.

"S'ok, baby. I ain't gonna make you do nothin' to your hair." Soda's beside me now, too. I don't remember when he got there. "We've been talkin' 'n baby... we need you to let us help you wash it."

I flinch. Hard. Straight back into Soda's arm 'n know he had it there, ready to brace me. "No." Darry sighs, glances over my head, 'n Soda gathers me up into his arms.

"Look, honey. I'm not gonna make you. But I think... you'll feel a bit better. You don't gotta take a shower or nothin'. Maybe a bath?" Darry tries, reachin' out 'n coverin' my hand in his.

"No." I don't know what it was. I'd gone through the damn fire 'n come out scared of the fuckin' water. That night in the fountain was a million years ago. Glory, I don't know how I had space in my head to even remember it.

But I did. Fuck. I did.

"Hey Pony? Can we try somethin' else then? If you humor me?" Soda's tone is pliant 'n a little too bouncy. It gets like that sometimes. But someone has to be alright. So we don't mention it.

He climbs off the couch, pulls me gently up 'n I don't fight it. Darry's got a hand on my shoulder 'n Soda's got his arms around me still 'n they were like this more. Since. Like if they weren't always touchin' me I'd fade right away into nothin'. Sometimes it was nice. Sometimes it made me want to bite 'n tear 'n fuckin' scream.

The kitchen counter is clear, a couple towels folded onto the table, a chair tipped back against the sink. Soda guides me over to the chair, asks me a million questions in those big brown eyes he has that I don't know how to go about answerin'.

Are you fine? Is this fine? Does this remind you of- Does this remind you- Does this-

"Look, if you sit here you can rest your head back 'n I can wash your hair out without havin' to get you any closer to the water. D'ya think... that's somethin' you can stomach?" Soda's off to my side doin' all the talkin' but I'm lookin' straight out at Darry. He's still got a hand on my shoulder 'n Jesus. Has he always looked at me like that?

He shifts his weight 'n furrows his brow. His hand comes up slowly like I'm a spooked animal that might bolt. Some kicked dog. Some scared foal. He cups the side of my face 'n it occurs to me. It's the same place he'd once struck.

Odd. Both times touched in fear. A million years apart. I'm not even sure he notices.

"Pony?" I finally tear my eyes off Darry 'n when I twist my head, he lets his hand fall back to my shoulder.

"Ok." My voice aches. It always does. Maybe from the smoke. Maybe from the cold burn of that still water rottin' in my lungs even now. "Ok, I'll try." The look that Soda 'n Darry shoots over my head is filled with such a palpable relief I nearly cry.

"Ok, baby. I know this isn't easy. D'you think you can... take his jacket off?" Soda already has both hands around my biceps, just gently restin' there like he knows I'm gonna flinch again. "I ain't gonna take it-" My eyes flicker to Darry 'n hurt flashes across his face (not meanin' it, not knowin' how not to)- "'n neither is Dar. I just don't wanna get it wet 'n mess it up, ok hon? But if it's too much I can just try my best to avoid it?"

I clutch at the collar. 'N I can hear his voice clear as day. You better not fuck that leather up. You have no idea how much trouble it was to steal.

'N I almost laugh. Almost.

"He'd kill me if I let you give it the kitchen sink treatment." 'N my voice sounds all thick in my ears. I want to laugh. I want Dallas to knock me up the back of my head for even thinkin' of it. I want-

"Oh, Ponybaby." Soda's arms are around me again. I'm cryin'. When did I start cryin'? Why? 'N it's one of those times I don't want them to hold me. Jesus. It makes me want to run. To let the ache in my throat dissolve into the burn in my lungs. I want to bite 'n tear 'n scream.

But all I can do is sit there. Stiff in the arms I wish I could melt into.

"Soda." Darry drops a hand onto his shoulder 'n gently pries him off of me. When he takes his face out of my neck his cheeks are wet 'n I don't know whether it's my tears or his. "He's not-"

Here.

For a long moment, none of us move. Like a gunfight. Or a caged animal. 'N then I drag blunt nails under my eyes 'n scrub my face 'n Darry blows out a long breath like he'd been holdin' it. He lets go of Soda 'n we all go back to pretendin' nothin' happened. Or at least I do.

"Do you... want help?" When I look down my knuckles are white against the collar. I flex my fingers 'n they burn like that time I'd split them against some socs' jaw. Or that night Johnny 'n I had slept in the backyard out under the stars 'n the cold scalded along my hands 'n cracked my skin 'n I'd bled 'n bled 'n bled-

"Don't make me do it." 'N when I'd looked up at Darry I knew he understood what I meant. I squeezed my eyes shut 'n felt hands roughened by labors of love that had done nothin' but leave him with callouses 'n scars rest at my neck. He pulls the jacket off quickly 'n the rush of winter air slinkin' through the cracks we'd never be able to seal up scorches against my bare arms. I don't open my eyes until Darry presses the bundle to my chest.

When I look to Soda again, his face is dry 'n he's wearin' this encouragin' little smile that tugs too tight on the edges of his mouth. "You ready, Pony?"

I nod. Just a bob of my chin that takes every last ounce of strength in me. Darry turns, yanks another chair close to my side 'n Soda guides my head down to the sink.

The tap flips on. A lonely titterin' against the empty bowl. I don't control anythin' that happens after. Not the low, whimperin' sob that snakes out of my mouth. Not the way my shoulders jar up 'n away. Not my nails bitin' into Darry's arm so hard they leave bloody, half moons in their wake.

"No. Soda, no. Soda. I can't." Darry smooths one hand over my forehead 'n I reach for his wrist, catch it tight 'n hold on like if I don't let go he can keep me out of that night. If I can keep him here I can't go back.

"Pony?" Soda drops down so he can see my face. Reaches out to wrap me in his arms 'n I flinch. Fuckin' flinch. Right back 'n up into Darry's lap.

'N none of us are movin' again. Soda's falterin' in place, arms half reached out 'n face a mask of hurt 'n Jesus why do I always hurt the people I love? Why can't I stop bitin' the hand that wants to hold me?

"What is it, Pony? Are you here?" 'N I can't make my voice or body or anythin' work the way it should. But before I can stop it I choke out-

"Darry." 'N Darry lets out a little noise from somewhere so far in the back of his throat it comes out like a whimper.

"Oh, little colt." 'N suddenly his arms are around me again. My face is pressed into his chest 'n I'm heavin' deep sobs that have been rottin' in my chest for too long. Since before Dallas or Johnny. Before the week in the church or that night in the park. Maybe since Mama. Since Daddy. Since the last person to call me that was put in the freezin' Tusla earth.

"I love you." 'N it's whispery 'n waverin' 'n also the surest thing I've ever heard. 'N this time when I feel Soda return to my side, feel Darry open his arms 'n hold us both like were disappearin' before his eyes I just let myself be held. "You're here."

I am.

'N then he's shiftin' 'n I'm clutchin' his shirt tighter 'n he's pettin' my hair 'n tippin' my head back 'n not makin' me let him go though I'm too goddamn old 'n too big to be beggin' for my older brother.

"Keep your eyes closed, colt." 'N Soda's whisperin' somethin' low 'n soft 'n just louder than the sound the tap makes as it drip drip drips against the sink. 'N when the water runs along my temples 'n along the line of the scar that I'll carry until I die from the night I lost two brothers I don't think of the fountain.

No.

I think about the hot afternoon I won my first track race, felt sweat slide along my brow 'n saw the sun glint off Dallas' silver tooth even from way up in the stands. Hear the whoop of his voice still marred thick 'n heavy with his New York drawl. I think of runnin' home through the lot dodgin' the fat rain drops 'n stoppin' only to let Johnny catch up. Throwin' my head back 'n laughin'. Of the spray of a passin' car. I think of Soda laughin' as he flicks the spatterin' of water left on his hands at my face when we finish the dishes 'n mama not even scoldin' us.

I think of Darry's hands wet from the laundry as he runs a thumb absently over my face. Memorizin' it with calloused fingers when he thinks I've dropped off to sleep. The gentleness of his achin' love for us. Low 'n constant 'n how had I ever missed it?

"We're done, honey." 'N then I'm buried in his chest again, Dallas' jacket pressed against my stomach 'n Johnny's letter tucked into the inside pocket closest to my heart. Bangs drippin' cold between my brow, along my nose, 'n minglin' with tears never gone long enough to dry. 'N for the first time since it all, I'm right here. 'N it doesn't even hurt. It just aches.

[messrsrarchives]

Hello! I adore your blog and your yaps so much I’ve been following you for a few months now and I first wanted to tell you that you do so much good! So, a huge thanks to you for using your platform for trans topics/Palestine/as well as fandom etiquette/awareness and for just being amazing!

All things aside though, I do have a question! I was wondering what your opinion on @the-dead-gay-oscars was. I stumbled upon it recently and felt kind of an icky feeling about it, because it just feels like another way of comparing fanfic to mainstream media when fanfic isn’t really meant to be like that? It’s also putting a bunch of fanfic out there for people to vote on/critique publicly, and I cant find whether or not the fanfic writers are asked for permission for their fics to be included in such an event- especially when I know a lot of people have boundaries over that kind of thing. I just wonder if it brings back that almost expectation for fanfiction to be like published modern literature/movies. I doubt anyone had the intention for it to be like that but I just don’t really like it?

Idk, it just left me feeling weird about the whole thing, but maybe I’m being over dramatic and critical over something meant to be fun, which could totally be the case. 😅

Anyways, thank you so much for what you do! Have a nice day!

hiii !! first of all!!! thank youuu 😖😖🫂🫂

and yeah,,, not a fan. idk if this mention tags them and if it does, sorry!!! just some gentle opinions 😖

idk like,, "best" categories in fandom really ick me out. and i think it can be very discouraging to others? like how does the voting work? do they select nominations and then others vote?

oh you've said they do! so yes, then it turns into "oh my work wasnt as good as the one that won" etc etc - i just think there's better ways to show appreciation than creating more pedestals in a fandom that already has a massive issue with idolisation, imposter syndrome, etc etc

and whether the authors are asked permission or not is irrelevant to me (actually,, probably worse if they are and agree in my mind)

idk. good concept, poor execution that i personally think is just discouraging and competitive when this space is for everyyyyyyone to create and enjoy without worrying whether you're better than someone else or the "best" etc etc. and yes, 100% brings expectations.

i get it was for appreciation, but i dislike the notion when really you could just comment on a fic and say you liked it, and then make a post recommending it, or rec it to your friends etc etc. you know??

we don't need awards and competition, we need community and an encouraging space where everyone feels confident to engage and write and draw and edit and do whatever it is that they do without worrying about whether they're the best at it or if they're as good as someone else

unless i get best rant poster. then it's okay. (I'M KIDDING THAT WAS A /J. THAT WAS A JOKE.)

[vortexbloom]

Hello, I hope I didn't bother you. If you haven't, Can you make a Mydei x Fem! Reader? Reader is injured or harassed by someone, but when Mydei sees this, he decides to take matters into his own hands. I had an incident similar to this, so I asked, if you are uncomfortable, please don't do it. English is not my first language, but I hope I was able to write it correctly<3

Hello dear anon 😙

Don’t worry, I‘m comfortable with writing this.

I‘m sorry to hear that something like this happened to you in real life, I hope you’re doing better now <3

Also, your English is good, I understood everything 😌

A Devine Reckoning (OneShot)

Pairing: Mydei x Female Reader

Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)

Warnings: Reader gets harassed, there isn’t much plot tbh

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Marvel

Boycott List

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters !

Have fun reading this :D

Art by: @crycry84488 on X (Twitter)

The shadows danced between the marble columns and the air was thick, danger often lurked in unexpected corners. The city’s intricate alleyways, though beautiful, could become treacherous labyrinths for the unprepared.

As you navigated these winding paths, the distant hum of the city’s life provided a comforting backdrop. However, the serenity was abruptly shattered when a figure emerged from the shadows, his intentions evident in his predatory gaze.

"Well, what do we have here?" he sneered, advancing toward you with a menacing grin.

Before you could react, he seized your arm, his grip like iron. Panic surged through you, but before you could cry out, a commanding voice resonated through the alley.

"Release her. Now."

Both you and your assailant turned to see Mydei, the crown prince of Kremnos and the warrior of Okhema.

"This is none of your concern," the man spat, acting like the person he’s talking too isn’t Mydeimos.

Mydei stepped forward, the air around him shimmering with latent energy. "Here, all matters of justice are my concern."

The assailant released you, attempting to flee, but with a swift motion, Mydei ran after him, managing to catch the guy.

"You dare defile the sanctity of Amphoreus with your actions?" Mydei’s voice was cold, each word measured. "Such transgressions cannot go unpunished."

With a subtle gesture, Mydei threw the man away, making him land harshly on the ground. The man cried out before collapsing, unconscious but alive.

Turning to you, Mydei’s demeanor softened just a little bit, though he was still pissed at that guy. "Are you harmed?"

You nodded, still shaken. "Just a bruise. Thank you."

He extended a hand, helping you to your feet. "These streets are meant to be safe for all. I regret that this was not your experience tonight."

As he spoke, you couldn’t shake of the fact that your heart was beating so fast. After all, you’re standing before Mydei. It doesn’t help that he looks so handsome either. Though, you managed to get out of your thoughts after hearing Mydei’s voice again.

"Rest assured," he continued, his voice firm yet comforting, "such acts will not be tolerated. Should anyone threaten you again, they will face the full extent of Amphoreus’s justice."

In that moment, you felt a profound sense of safety, knowing that Mydei was there.

Tbh, I‘m not really proud of this OneShot, but it is what it is 😔

I just feel like I could’ve done better.

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[foundtherightwords]

Fallen Empires - Chapter 16

Pairing: Geta x OFC

Summary: Having done the unthinkable to secure his throne, Emperor Geta rules with ruthlessness and paranoia. Now, after escaping an assassination attempt, a badly injured Geta is saved by Daphne, a young widow, who takes him back to her remote village without knowing his true identity. As Daphne nurses the former emperor back to health, attraction blooms between them, and Geta discovers a soft side he didn't know he possessed. But can their love survive his thirst for revenge and his desire to reclaim power?

Chapter warnings: violence, mentions of physical abuse

Chapter word count: 3.7k

Prologue + Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15

Chapter 16

The larder was running low, and they hadn't had anything to eat but milk and porridge since the day before. That morning, Geta decided he would have to risk going into the village soon if they were to eat. Angrily, he thought about the villagers, so ready to come to Daphne in their hour of need, yet never bothered to look in on her when she needed help. He would have something to say to them, the ingrates!

A bray from Midas made Geta reach for the dagger at his belt. An old woman was coming up the path, a woman he'd never seen before, her back bent under a heavy basket. Yet when she looked at him, her green eyes widening from under their wrinkled lids, he immediately knew who she must be, even before she spoke.

"I'm Daphne's mother, Doumia," the woman said. Geta nodded mutely. The resemblance was unmistakable. She was Daphne, only with twenty more years and a lot less self-assurance. There was a frightened, timid look about her, like that of a hounded rabbit. "You're him, aren't you? The soldier Daphne is having stay with her?"

So much for Attikos's discretion then. But Doumia was quick to assure Geta. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," she said. "Daphne told me about you herself. She asked me to make sure you are safely on your way with the merchant caravan, in case she was delayed." She looked around. "Where is she?"

Geta led her through the messy hut and into the bedroom, where Daphne lay shivering under the pile of blankets. He felt wretched and useless, but Doumia made no comment. She touched Daphne's forehead.

"How long has she been like this?" she asked.

"I—I don't remember. A few days." Then his anger flared. "Where were you? She works herself to death helping all of you, and when she falls ill, none of you cares!"

"Calm yourself, young man," Doumia said, unflappable. After wiping the sweat from her daughter's forehead and tucking in the blankets more tightly, she went into the front room, where she started unloading food from her basket and cleaning up the mess Geta had made from his cooking attempts. "We were all of us ill with fever," she continued. "I knew Daphne had it too and urged her to stay with us, but she insisted on coming back here."

She came back to check on him. To make sure he was safely away. Shame kept Geta's mouth shut.

"I don't know what medicine to give her," he said a moment later, noticing that Doumia was looking through Daphne's shelves.

"Sweet wormwood," Doumia said.

He gave her a blank look. The name meant nothing to him. Doumia went into the garden and quickly came back with a strong-smelling bunch of green stems and delicate leaves, which she pressed into his hand. "Soak this in cold water, then pound it well, wring out the juice, and give it to her, twice a day," she said.

She finished straightening up the kitchen and looked at Geta as he bent over the bowl of sweet wormwood. "You're staying here then," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I am."

"Can you take care of her?"

A trace of motherly concern in her voice made Geta look up. He met her eyes, so like Daphne's, yet there was something in their scrutiny and their judgment that reminded him of his own mother's as well. "I can," he said. "And I shall." It was a promise, both to himself and to Daphne's mother.

Doumia nodded. "Good. My husband and my sons still need me, so I have to return to them." That fearful, furtive look came into her eyes again at the mention of her husband, and she absently wrapped her stole more closely about her body. Geta thought he could glimpse an old bruise on her arm, in the shape of fingers. Of course. An old brute like Timon would start by beating his wife first, before moving on to his children. "I'll come back here as soon as I can," Doumia said, "but meantime, I leave Daphne in your hands."

Her easy trust both surprised and warmed Geta. "You trust me with your daughter's life?" He couldn't help asking. "You hardly know me."

The old woman paused at the door, and something like a smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. "'Tis true that I don't know who you are, or how you came to be here," she said. "But if my Daphne had chosen to put her trust in you, then I guess you've earned that trust."

Somehow, it made him proud to have earned the approval and trust of this old peasant woman, prouder than any military conquest he'd made in all his years as Emperor. He stood up straighter and attended to the wormwood with diligence, to show Doumia that her trust was not misplaced.

***

That night, after the second cup of sweet wormwood juice, Daphne's fever finally broke. Sweat poured from her skin, soaking her tunic and the sheets. Gently, Geta wiped her dry, changed the sheets, and put a new tunic on for her, his hands running over her body with no lust, only tenderness and care. Afterward, she sank into a deep, peaceful sleep, without the febrile tossing and turning or the violent shivering of the previous nights. Almost lightheaded with relief, Geta allowed himself some sleep as well, the first he'd had since Daphne had taken ill.

When he woke, it was full morning. The first thing he saw was Daphne's green gaze fixed on him. This time, she didn't bother to hide the joy in her eyes. True, they were tired, but the glaze of fevered delirium was gone from them, leaving them as clear as fresh spring water. Looking into those eyes, Geta understood at last that he'd been mistaken in likening Daphne to goddesses. She was no goddess, for all her beauty and her wisdom and strength of spirit. She was a woman, only a woman, simple and incomprehensible, strong and vulnerable, perfect and flawed, a mirror in which he saw himself reflected as not an Emperor, not a general or a conqueror, but only a man. And for that, he would love and worship her for the rest of his life.

"You're still here," she said.

"I'm still here."

"I thought I told you to go." Her voice was stern, but her eyes sparkled as they set on him, and her hand hovered over the edge of the bed, reaching for him.

"And I told you I'd never leave."

He smiled at her as he said it, but she didn't smile back. The light in her eyes dimmed a little, and a splinter of doubt crept into Geta's heart. Did she remember her delirious vision? He didn't mind that she may not love him back, but he didn't know what he would do if she didn't want him around, if she saw their liaison as a betrayal of the memories of her dead husband.

"Well, I'm better now," Daphne said. "So if you hurry, you can still catch the caravan."

"I'm staying with you!" he snapped.

Daphne looked like she wanted to argue but was too tired to do so. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep. He pressed her fingers gently and told himself to give her time. He could convince her later.

Doumia came back that day with more food. Daphne was well enough to sit up in bed and talk to her mother, who brought news that most of the villagers were recovering. Some had decided to plant more sweet wormwood in their gardens, so they would be prepared when the fever returned. Doumia gave Geta a smile and a nod as she left, and even patted his cheek without thinking, as if he was one of her sons. It pleased him and gave him hope again. Surely, Daphne could see how her mother approved of him, and that would convince her to let him stay.

The next day, Daphne was able to go into the front room and sit and watch while Geta tried to cobble together a meal for them.

"I didn't know you could cook," she said with a wry but affectionate curl of her lips.

"Nor can I." He grinned over his shoulder at her. "Don't you remember the broth I fed you the past few days? It tasted of salt and nothing else."

She shook her head. "I was probably too ill to remember much of the past few days."

"Thank Jupiter for that."

"You'll be glad to be back to your family mansion then," she said, "where you have servants to cook for you."

Something inside Geta boiled over. After everything he'd done, how could she still doubt him? He hurled the bowl he was using across the room. Luckily, it was made of wood and didn't shatter, but it still hit the far wall with a horrible crash. Daphne flinched. 

"Stop it!" he shouted, whirling around to face her. "Stop saying things like that! I told you, I'm not going anywhere!"

The look on Daphne's face, half of fear and half of disgust, made Geta realize what he'd done. How could he have been so thoughtless, when he'd vowed to love and protect her? He hurriedly picked up the bowl and knelt in front of her, pressing her hands to his lips. "Forgive me, carissima," he said. "I didn't mean to shout. Please don't make me go. I love—"

He didn't get to finish. A raucous bray came from outside, followed by the sound of a slap. "Shut up, you stupid ass!" a voice growled.

Daphne's face, already pale after her fever, became marble-white.

"My father," she whispered. "Quick. Into the bedroom."

Geta hated to leave her alone with the churl, not when she was still so weak, but he had no choice. He quickly vacated the kitchen and Daphne took up his spot by the fire.

"Father," he heard her say. "Why are you here? Is everything all right with Ma and the boys?"

"Fine greetings for your father there, girl," Timon snarled. "Wasn't I ill like the rest of them too?"

"I'm sorry, Father," Daphne replied meekly. "Mother told me your fever broke a few days ago. Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Aye, I could be resting, if those cursed creditors weren't snapping at my heels again."

"You know I have no money—"

"But this is all your fault!"

Daphne's voice took on an exasperated note. "How? I didn't tell you to gamble."

"No, but you could have saved Izkur from the fever and agreed to marry him! Or better yet, you could have married him long before this and become his widow!"

"I'm sorry Izkur is dead," Daphne said. "I've tried my best to save everyone, but some were just too ill."

"Your best is not good enough!" There was a scuffling sound and a clatter of bowls and spoons, as if Timon was taking a step toward Daphne, forcing her back against the table. In the bedroom, Geta gripped his dagger tightly, cursing Daphne's father and cursing himself for being unable to defend her. "If you can't marry Izkur now," continued Timon, "you can help me pay off the debt in another way..."

"What do you mean?" Daphne said warily.

"My debtors are leaving with the merchant caravan soon," said Timon. "They'd pay good money for some female company along the way."

There was a moment of shocked silence, then Daphne hissed, "You're going to whore out your own daughter—" Her words were cut short by the dull thud of flesh hitting flesh.

"Don't play the respectable matron with me, girl," Timon said. "I know what you get up to during those herb-gathering trips of yours. You're already a whore."

The hilt of the dagger dug into Geta's palm, hurting him, but he didn't dare look through the crack in the door. He was afraid that if he saw what was happening to Daphne, he would not be able to stay hidden in this room. And to think, he'd shouted and thrown things at her, when she'd had to endure such violence from her father her whole life. Geta's stomach burned and squirmed in shame, remembering the blows he and Caracalla had suffered under their father's hands. Stand up, soldiers! Hit him! Harder! And no crying! Tears are for weaklings!

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Daphne said to Timon, her voice cold and firm. "I'll find some money for you somehow, but you have to leave."

There was another smack, followed by a crash and a muffled whimper from Daphne. The scuffling started up again, louder, like Timon was dragging her across the floor, and Daphne's whimpers became cries of pain.

Those cries told Geta all he needed to know. He'd heard enough. He burst through the door and took in the scene before him with one glance—Daphne on the floor, blood dripping down her cheek from a wound on her temple, unable to fight her father off as he dragged her to the door by her hair. With a roar, Geta charged at Timon, throwing him off Daphne and against the wall.

"Vermin!" Geta screamed, putting his dagger to Timon's throat. "Don't you dare touch her!"

"Who in Hades's name are you?" Timon spluttered.

"Never mind who I am," Geta growled. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Daphne stagger to her feet, looking dazed.

"I'm her father! No thug is going to tell me—" Geta pressed the blade a little harder down on Timon's scrawny neck, cutting him off.

"If you hurt Daphne again, you'll hear from me," Geta said. Timon went pale, save for his drunkard's purple nose, and Geta almost laughed at how pathetic he looked. These brutes were all the same, so ready to use their fists on their wives and children, but a touch of cold steel and they'd turn into a puddle.

When he was sure Timon was properly subdued, Geta pushed away. He went into the bedroom, found his coin pouch, and threw it to the floor. "There!" he said contemptuously. "That ought to be enough to pay your debt. Take it, you worthless drunk, and stay away from Daphne."

Timon's eyes went wide as he heard the clink of coins inside the pouch. He fumbled over the floor, snatching up the pouch with shaky hands. Belatedly, Geta realized what may happen if Timon tipped a coin out and looked at it. To his relief, Timon was too busy clutching the pouch, as though he was afraid Geta would take it back if he didn't hold it tightly enough. And besides, even if he had looked, he couldn't have connected the clean-shaven Geta with the bearded emperor stamped on the denarius.

Once the pouch was secured at his belt, Timon scrambled to his feet, looking at Geta with fear and hatred. Then he turned to Daphne. "So you're shacking up with this—"

"You haven't heard me properly, have you?" Geta said, advancing toward him, brandishing the dagger. Timon took a step back. "Get out of my sight. And if I ever catch you lurking around here or making trouble for her again, I'll slit your throat."

Without another word, Timon turned and ran down the path. The moment the slapping sound of his sandals faded away, Geta rushed over to Daphne. She was trying to clean the blood off her face with a damp cloth. Her hair had come loose, tumbling down her shoulders. He gently brushed it behind her ear to get a better look at her wound.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Here, let me." He took the cloth from her and wiped away the blood. Daphne winced as the towel touched her wound, but at least that glazed look had gone from her eyes.

"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. "I've had worse from him." She shook her head slightly at Geta. "You shouldn't have done that. Revealing yourself like that... Now he knows you have money, he's not going to leave it alone."

"I'll keep him away. I'll protect you."

She turned away. "You can't do that forever."

"Yes, I can. My father—" Daphne turned to him, drawn by the mention of his family. The words were stuck in his throat, but he swallowed and continued. "My father used to beat me and my brother. I tried to shield my brother from it, but I failed."

"Where is your brother now?" Daphne asked, softly.

 "Dead. Like the rest of them." Not for the first time, Geta wondered if he had managed to protect Caracalla in their childhood, would Caracalla have turned out the way he did? Would he have tried to kill Geta still?

"What about your mother's family in Hemesos?"

"I hardly know them."

"So why are you going to them?"

"I'm not," he said. And, taking her hands, he repeated, each word solidified the intention that had formed in his mind ever since Daphne's illness, "I told you. I'm not going to Hemesos. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying. Here. With you."

She gazed at him, her eyes slowly brightening. "You really mean it?"

"Every word."

"But what about your wealth? Your position? You can't give that up."

"I can, and I will. It's not my wealth anyway."

She continued to look at him, with that same scrutinizing gaze she'd always fixed on him, for such a long time that Geta began to lose heart.

"But if you don't want me here," he said, "then I'll go."

Daphne tilted her head. Was he imagining it, or was there the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips? "Why do you say that?"

"Well, you've been chasing me away ever since you woke up," he said sullenly. "And—you called out your husband's name, when you were sick with the fever."

Daphne let out a small breath, as though she finally understood what had been eating at him.

"I'm never going to forget Galen," she said. Her voice was soft, but her words cut Geta's heart like the sharpest of blades. He dropped her hands, his own arms hanging limp at his sides, defeated. So she would rather live with the memory of a dead man than with him. He tried to tell himself that he didn't mind, but to no avail. Some of his despair must be showing on his face, for Daphne took his hand and pressed it to her cheek. "But that doesn't mean that I don't love you," she said.

She said it so quietly that Geta thought he'd misheard her.

"You love me?" he asked.

"I do."

No one in his life had ever said those words to him, not even his mother. To him, love was something unknown and therefore unknowable. "But how? How can you love someone so much you still love him after he is dead? How can you love two people at the same time?"

She watched him with those inscrutable eyes. "I don't know," she said. "I just can. Haven't you ever loved anyone?"

He thought about it. "Yes," he said. "You."

Now she was definitely smiling, a true smile, not just a hint of it. It spread from her lips to her eyes, until she looked like she was lit from within by some magical glow. "Only I can't imagine loving anyone else," he continued.

"Even when I'm dead?"

"Don't say that!" He grabbed her hands, seized by a sudden sense of superstition. "The lemures may hear you! Do you have any black beans to throw over your shoulder?"

Daphne's affectionate smile turned amused, almost teasing, but she sobered up when she realized he was not in jest. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise." She drew him close, caressing his cheek. "I used to think I could never love anyone else after Galen. But people change and grow. You can't keep living in the past."

He knew she was speaking of her husband, but to him, her words seemed to lift the very weight that had been dragging him down and chase away the ghost that had been haunting him all these years. He, too, could change and grow. He, too, could escape his past.

"And you love me now?" he asked again, still not quite believing it. "Truly?"

"I love you."

With those simple, magical words, Geta felt warm all over, as though the glow of her love had transferred to him, safe and comforting. He sealed his mouth over hers, putting into the kiss all his joy and gratitude, feelings that were still so new to him, yet he knew they would last, as long as he was with her.

"Now do you believe me, you fool?" Daphne asked, when they broke apart.

Her hair had fallen over her face again. Taking a few of the raven locks in his hand, he brought them to his face, stroking them over his cheek, his mouth, kissing them almost reverently.

"Say it again," he said.

She leaned close and whispered against his lips, "I love you, Romulus Publius."

Geta gave an involuntary start at hearing his alias. No matter how many times Daphne had called him so, he could never quite get used to it. But he must. If he wished to be with her, he must.

He cupped her cheeks in both of his hands, cradling her face like the treasure that it was, looking into her eyes brimming with happy tears, eyes that had brought him back from Hades itself. "And I love you, Nysa Daphne," he said, before pulling her into his arms again and burying his face in her neck, breathing in her familiar fragrance, letting her presence flood his senses, his entire being.

Geta was dead. From now on, to Daphne and to the world, he would be Romulus.

A/N: Swamp fever is another name for malaria. I have no idea if sweet wormwood (Artemisia annua) grows in this setting (southeastern Turkey) or not, but I know the Chinese have been using the plant to treat fever since ancient times, and its extracts have antimalarial properties (in 2015, Chinese scientist To Youyou won the Nobel Prize for her discovery of this), so I hope I didn't stretch the truth too much to have Daphne treat her patients/be treated with sweet wormwood here.

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