#He saves people as a promise to his dead friend that wanted him to live a good life

[bungobble-my-balls]

OK correct me if I'm wrong, but I feel like the main 'yin/yang' parallel with Atsushi and Akutagawa is not something like 'this one is bad but secretly has a good side and this one is good but secretly has a bad side'.

I feel like it's more about 'who they are at their core vs who they choose to be'.

At his core Akutagawa is kind and at his core Atsushi is not. But despite this Atsushi tries every day to make the kinder choices and I love him so much for it. He has to work so hard to be good.

He wants to be a bitch SO bad I know he does but he tries his best to help people and be nice (sometimes he fails but that's OK <3)

Atsushi doesn't always WANT to help people, a lot of the time he's selfish and scared, but he does help people anyway. He keeps helping people over and over again. There's still some selfish motivation to it, and his initial motivation for helping people was because the headmaster told him that's all he was worth, but overall he does care about the people he helps and it weighs on him if he fails to save them. And of course, as the series goes on he starts helping people more because he can rather than because he feels like he needs to.

In Akutagawa's case, he's still capable of being kind but his environment led him into being someone who chooses to hurt people. But he's always been a protector at heart. In the start he was bad compared to Atsushi because he was choosing to hurt people and keep the cycle of abuse going. Just like how Atsushi developed in why he saved people, Akutagawa starts to get redeemed when he chooses to not just act on his rage. Not only does he start to spare people, but he speaks more kindly to them (apologising to Higuchi and telling Kyouka he's proud of her). It all culminates into the moment he chooses to help Atsushi and sacrifice himself for him, going back to his core value of being a protector. Even when he's finally revived, he keeps this role in his new position as Aya's Knight.

I kind of see the streaks of white in Akutagawa and the streaks of black in Atsushi not as their 'hidden sides' but as their fundamental selfs. That's who they are at their core, and their main colours (black for Akutagawa and white for Atsushi) are how they're presented to everyone else and how they try to have people see them as.

[anyarose011]

Agape

Pairing: Lucius x Reader

Summary: After the Roman Empire had fallen, birthing the Republic, you and Lucius had finally found a moment to breathe in each other's presence. Over a few years' journey of healing, you find that is both exhausting, yet all the more fulfilling at the same time.

Part 2 of 2 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past SA, Depictions of Grief, Violence, Angst, Miscommunication, Historical Inaccuracies [I tried my best to make it kind of accurate], Nudity (sexual and non-sexual), Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex (f receiving), P in V Sex

Paul Mescal's facial hair in All of Us Strangers, if you can hear us, please save us. Nobody ask me how I went from "’Oh, I’m just gonna write some scenes about healing from trauma, and the rest is smut! Easy!" to then making it just a little longer than the first part. I'm a yapper, but holy shit XD. Anyway, this is just shameless pRopAgAnDa at what I personally view a husband to act like (even in modern times). So, without further ado, thousands of words of hurt/comfort and smut.

Word Count: 16.4k

You were a lucky child. When you were twelve and your friend was married off to a man who was forty-two, you asked your father when you would be married.

He tucked you in that night, saying that he wasn’t certain, and that you had nothing to fear; for he wouldn’t promise you to a man who was in a war the same year you were born. He would have to know him personally as well, saying.

“It’s easier to like a man than have to plan his assassination if he dared lay a hand on you.”

You like to think he would have approved of Lucius; he was the once heir to the Roman Empire.

You don’t think he would have approved of your…informal marriage.

“A year.” Lucius stated as the two of you sat together in one of the piazzas. “As long as we are not separated from each other for more than three days, Rome will view us as married if we live in the same household for a year.”

You hummed. “And why should we care what Rome views?”

“Men won’t stop their advances on you if they saw you as my sister.” he explained. “Even as a wife, that doesn’t stir them.”

“It’s a very Christian belief of you to have.”

“But it makes them think thoroughly on if they want to risk tainting you.” Lucius finally looked at you. “Knowing that I would break every finger they touched you with.”

Even with his proclamation, you merely shrugged. “Being the emperor’s favorite whore, I doubt they would care.”

He sighed. “Do you want to know what my mother wrote? Her final words that will forever be with me because they are in ink? ‘Take her as your wife.’”

It had only been one day since Lucilla’s death, since Rome had become a Republic, and no one knew exactly what to do.

Yet…even at the mention of her presence, you felt tears spring to your eyes.

How you hated crying; and crying and crying.

“It is wise.” You finally settled on. “The people here too must see me as a traitor.”

“You would be dead if they did.”

“It’s still early.” You smiled sadly. “I desired to be free of the emperors, but all they must have saw was lust for power.”

Lucius sighed. “If it is a concern, then I believe it is best to leave Rome.”

Suddenly, you were no longer afraid for your life. You scowled. “Leave the city you risked your life to liberate?”

“It is not just my own life I need to think of now, is it?”

“Then think of mine.” you began. “I don’t wish to leave. Where would we even go? I know nothing outside of Rome.”

This would have been solved if you somehow still had the house you grew up in. The moment Geta claimed you, it was gone. Even with the fall of the Empire, and the birth of the Republic, you could not take it back.

Among many other things, you could not take it back.

“We’ll live just outside the walls.” Lucius suggested. “A farm perhaps a few miles from here-.”

“-A farm?” You questioned. “You know how to farm? Because I sure don’t.”

“I’ve lived longer on a farm than I have in a palace.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. You also weren’t in the position to bargain. Even though it wasn’t going to be what most would deem an ‘official’ marriage, he still owned you. That was how it always was, whether living outside of the Roman walls or not. Still, you had to try.

“I will learn as much as I need to,” You shook your head. “but I will find a job in the city. You cannot believe I will be shut out-.”

“-Do you want to share a room, or would you like your own?”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

Lucius restated. “We don’t have any money to buy a farm, so I’ll build us one. Do you want your own room?”

You had only known him for a grand total of a day and a half (if you were to add up all the previous times you had spoken to him before Macrinus’ death), so needless to say, his offer shocked you; more so, it impressed you.

“Isn’t it odd for a man and wife to not share a bed?” You asked.

“So, you want to share a room?”

“No.” was your immediate response. “I just…”

Am not used to compromising with men without them threatening my life.

“Won’t it cost money to build a house?” You asked instead. “None the less, more for another room?”

“I only want you to be happy, if we’re to be married.”

There you were, asking every question and not being satisfied with his answers, yet he was remaining patient.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head in thanks for just a second before questioning. “I am still allowed to have a job in the city? It will help with the cost, of course.”

 “Where exactly do you intend to work?”

He said your name; not ‘Julia’, the name you had whispered to him in his cell. Lucius was the only one who had said it to you, for you did not even tell Lucilla or Marcus. It still felt strange hearing it on your lips, nonetheless, his.

Still, shaking your discomfort away, you hummed humorlessly. “I know two women who run their own businesses; hairdressing and tailoring. I’m better at hair than clothes, but not so much. And you?”

He sighed. “I’ll see if there’s any other farmers needing a hand.”

“You’re going to work for a farmer to build a farm?”

“It sounded more bizarre in your head than when you said it aloud, did it not?”

That was the first thing you found out about Lucius after all the bloodshed and heartbreak of the last week:

He spoke with such a straight tone, you did not know he was joking until he would smile just a hint; you couldn’t really call it a true smile.

You managed to grin. “I suppose it makes sense. You should find one that will let us sleep there.”

And he did. A farm just a few miles outside of Rome took both you and Lucius in. It was substantial, housing five chickens, two cows, three pigs, four horses, and seven human children. Albeit the children helped with the chores, but the eldest was only ten and could not manage any of the heavy lifting whatsoever, which was where Lucius came in.

From sun up to sun down, he’d work on the farm. The farmers, Atticus and Diana, let you sleep in the barn of all places. The hayloft was nice for the both of you; enough space to spread out but not be right next to each other. There was also somewhat of a wall between the two of you, giving the illusion of separate rooms.

It was certainly an adjustment for you; had been sleeping on the softest of beds for months, but even so, you just missed the bed from your old house.

Lucius fell asleep the second he laid on the hay.

Dreams and nightmares were always a peculiar thing. Some days, you would dream of your mother and father, some days, they would be of Lucilla and Marcus.

You had nightmares of what befell you before coming to the farm; Macrinus and his manipulation, Caracalla’s temper, Geta…

Yet, the worst that would happen would be you waking up more tired than the night prior. You knew Lucius was having nightmares too, but every time you approached him, he would lie and say he was fine, or simply not want to speak of it.

You stopped asking.

For the first few days on the farm, you were put to work by watching over the younger children when their mother was busy. Somehow, it was the older ones you didn’t mind, it was the youngest baby who was a handful.

It’s morbid to say, but you always wondered how any of them survived infancy.

Luckily, you managed to get back to Rome after perhaps a week of being stranded on the farm. It was almost an hour walk, and you had gotten up even before Lucius had, but it was worth it.

It wasn’t that you felt dead as you were on the farm per say, but walking through the streets brought a certain kind of life back into your steps.

You spent a good portion of the day trying to find the hairdressers you talk to Lucius about. Just as you were about to give up and try again tomorrow, something caught your ear.

Hebrew.

You turned over your shoulder and saw a man speaking in Latin to another man and a pregnant woman. The father had spoken in broken Latin before turning to his wife, speaking quickly in Hebrew as if to ask her what to say.

The Roman man began to yell, and you rushed over, speaking to the patriarch of the family.

“What’s going on?” You asked quickly.

His eyes grew as if you were the first person in Rome to understand him (you probably were). “I paid for a bag of peaches fairly; two bronze, yet they’re saying it wasn’t enough.”

You turned to the man behind you. “He says he gave you two bronze for the peaches.”

“It was three.” The Roman man gritted his teeth.

Tilting your head, you tried. “Show me your stand so we may see.”

It was perhaps stupid of you to challenge him; yet, he controlled his tempter and led you to his fruit stand. The sign by the peaches indeed said ‘2’, but there was also a good amount of peaches blocking the bottom half of the sign.

When you moved a few, it read ‘3’.

You smiled, looking at the man who spoke Hebrew. “It is three, but it’s not your fault this brute didn’t notice either.”

He nodded, returning your grin before handing the men another copper. With an few mumbled exchanges, the man and his wife were on their way.

“You have Judeans in your family?” The man crudely asked.

Still, you decided to reciprocate his crassness with kindness. “I actually speak five languages.”

He rose his brows. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

He hummed, holding his hand out. “Isidorus.”

“Julia.” Was your immediate response as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles. It wasn’t even your own choice to say that name; it was what you lived by. Retracting your hand, you shake your head and said your own name. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-.”

��-All of Rome knows who you are.” He interrupted. “Do not be afraid of your own people. Most of them were there simply a week ago when you tried to slay Macrinus but was there to comfort lady Lucilla in her final moments.”

You only nodded, not wanting to be praised. “I thank you for your kindness.”

“With certain.” He nodded. “You are with child; only a monster would harm a woman carrying.”

The events of the past weeks had made you forgotten about the false babe. Luckily, the fear upon your face could be used to your advantage.

“Are you not well?” Isidorus questioned.

You dropped your gaze, stammering your tone. “The…I lost the child.”

He looked down as well. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head. “it’s…it feels odd. His father was terrible but…”

“Why are you perusing Rome unchaperoned?” He changed the subject.

 “My betrothed is being put to work,” you immediately answered. “and I am scouring the streets to find my own.”

“What has your luck been?”

“Nothing.”

Isidorus hummed. “I could change that.”

Even at the thought of what he was alluding to, you smiled. “Good sir, I am not in the position to sell my body-.”

“-None of that.” he waved his hand. “My brother works down at the entrance of the city gates. They’re always in need of translators.”

You nodded, considering. “When may I meet with him?”

“Tomorrow?” He asked. “Midday at the gates with many people watching so you do not feel threatened?”

The two of you laughed, and you agreed. “I shall be there. Thank you.”

“Anything to help a woman of the people.”

You walked all the way back to the farm with a skip in your step. Even at dinner, you were more talkative with the rest of the family. Lucius certainly took notice as the two of you were settling down for the night.

“You seemed better today.” He complimented, laying onto his bed of hay.

“So, I’ve been absolutely horrible the rest?” You teased, peeking around the wall of the hayloft.

 “No, just what I think you were like before everything; more yourself.” He explained. “Did the hairdressers go well?”

Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms. “I’m actually working as a translator down by the city entrance.”

He gave you a look. “How’d this come about?”

“Well,” you began. “I overheard two men arguing, one was speaking Hebrew, and I asked him what was wrong. There was a misunderstanding over peaches of all things, I helped them talk it out, and it was solved with no bloodshed. The vendor said his brother works at the gates and is always in need of translators and offered to meet with him tomorrow. It will be midday and so many people around; do not worry.”

Lucius nodded. “I’ll accompany you.”

“Did you not hear what I just said? I shall be fine.”

“I have no doubt you would.” You knew that was a lie. “One of the scythes broke today, I’ll need to buy another one in the city.”

You didn’t know if that was a lie or not, but it wouldn’t surprise you if Lucius would sneak out in the night and break equipment simply to go with you.

Sighing, you went behind the wall to your side of the hayloft. “Fine.”

To no one but Lucius’ surprise, Isidorus had not lied about his brother, nor the job offer. Of course, the brother had been off put at a woman being the translator (because everyone knows that they are the lesser sex). Still, after some convincing (you talked to a Greek family, a man from Anatolia, and two brothers from Persia), he said you could be put to work.

Lucius stood there the whole hour you had proved yourself.

“You couldn’t have gotten the scythe while I worked?” You questioned him while walking home.

He kept his gaze on the road before him, carrying the farm equipment. “It was engaging to watch.”

You hummed. “I could see how engaged you were while you stood like this.” You crossed your arms and scowled.

“I did not look like that.” He scoffed.

“You did so!” You refuted, lowering your voice. “My name is Lucius Verus Aurelius, the Last Gladiator, son of Lucilla and Maximus, grandson of Marcus Aurelius.”

He looked down, mouth upturning a little. “I do not sound like that.”

“Is that a smile?!” you gasped. “Gods above, I never thought you could unless you were attempting humor!

“Away with you, woman.”

You only laughed as the sun was starting to set.

There was something called a “Fullmoon” period in a marriage. Most now would say it’s “Honeymoon”, but the period in time where a man and woman were in a complete state of euphoria together was called “Fullmoon” because it only lasted for a month.

You and Lucius (even with your strange circumstance) were not immune to this.

A month later, when you had fully settled into a mundane life of working in different areas for hours upon hours, the only times you saw Lucius was when you ate dinner with the farmer’s family, and before going to bed.

It didn’t’ effect you that much for the first three months, as you both were still on good terms and were fine simply cohabitating without affection. This marriage was purely for protection and to honor Lucilla’s wishes.

Then…Lucius came to you one day, saying that together, you both had enough money to build a farm. He already had a patch of land picked out from the help of the famer who employed him. It was five miles away from the farm you stayed at. Five miles more of a journey to the city.

You would move in once the walls were built, which he said would only take a week or two.

It was too fast for you.

Still, you had to go along with it, because you were to be his wife; nothing more. Even so, nothing out of the ordinary besides your hidden, simmering annoyance happened between you two.

The first day construction was to be done was when light was shed upon it.

“Lucius!” You called his name as you approached him and a few other men hauling the wood and stone that would be used. It was mid-twilight when you ran to them.

He furrowed his brow, walking towards you. “Aren’t you meant to be in the city?”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shook your head. “I asked for the day off because of the house. He said I-.”

“-You need to go back and tell him you’ll work.”

Your smile fell from his usual, monotone demeanor. “He doesn’t expect me to come in today-.”

“-Then he’ll be happy to see you.”

“May I just talk for a moment?!” You yelled.

His said nothing.

Sighing, you began. “I will be useful in any capacity. If you need me to help dig for water, measure supports, lift anything-.”

“-Your shoulder cannot carry-.”

You retorted. “-It might be the shoulder you shot, but it’s the shoulder I have to live with, and I will tell you if something is too heavy to carry.”

It hadn’t been the first time you brought up your shoulder after Rome was free. Yet, in the past, it was always out of good fun; something to say to him when you didn’t want to carry as little as an egg from the chicken coop. You told the children the story too why you had to set one of them down after carrying her for so long.

You expected them to cower away from Lucius when he returned for supper, but instead, they all tackled him to the ground to defend your honor.

They didn’t hurt him of course, and you laughed until you couldn’t breathe.

Yet, at that moment, you said it with nothing but disdain; and he heard it in every word. You thought it would have been enough to guilt him into letting you help, you made sure of it.

Lucius titled his head back toward the main road. “Go on, now. The sun will be up soon, it’ll be better to walk without daylight beating down on you.”

The audacity he had. Usually, on the times you’d have disagreements of sorts, you’d try to leave with dignity; perhaps a word of sarcasm or two.

No, you simply turned on your heel and marched away in a huff.

You were harsher that day when translating, and you were still angry by the time the day ended. You ate dinner outside by yourself (until three of the seven children came outside to eat with you), and did not utter a ‘goodnight’ to Lucius before laying down to sleep.

Neither of you spoke to the other for days after that.

It was one morning, not even when the sun was out, as you tried to tiptoe around him, did he ask from his makeshift bed.

“Do you remember where the house is?”

You nearly fell off the ledge of the hayloft. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Do you remember?”

“Yes!” you whispered, afraid to wake the whole farm. “Why?”

“We made the water pump, and the walls and floors are finished. We’ll be able to sleep there now.”

“I don’t see the appeal in sleeping in a house with no roof.”

“I’ll put half of it on today. Tell your foreman too that you won’t be able to work for the next week.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“I’m teaching you how to tend to a farm.” He wrapped his blankets tighter around him and turned his back to you.

And you continued on your way; making the long trek to the city, which would only be longer when you moved to the house.

When your work was over, you walked and walked. You took a short break at the farmer’s house, making your final goodbyes to the children, and gathering what little belongings you owned.

As you tried to leave, Diana stopped you. She was leading one of the horses, a berber, behind her.

“Take her,” she handed you the reins. “you shouldn’t have to walk so far.”

You shook your head. “I simply cannot-.”

“-I insist.” She smiled. “She’s yours now. Think of it as payment for helping me with the little beasts that are my children.”

Smiling politely, it soon faded. She took notice. “What is it?”

“…I’ve only ever ridden once, and I was a child.”

She sighed yet was still kind. “Come on, my husband’s horse is at your farm. I’ll ride back with him.”

Despite your inexperience, it was actually nice riding a horse. It was perhaps the closest you could ever come to flying in your lifetime; maybe that’s why you enjoyed it. As you were nearing your soon-to-be home, you saw a familiar silhouette along with some others.

Atop the house, against the setting sun, you watched as Lucius continued to add tiles to the unfinished roof. His shirt was off, and even with night beginning to set in with the cold air, he was still breaking a sweat from the rigorous work. You would be a liar if you say that you didn’t catch yourself staring, and it was Diana who had to take the reins.

“What a fine home!” She broke you out of your trance, and when Lucius looked in your direction, you snapped your gaze away.

Lucius nodded. “All that needs to be done is the roof.” He jumped onto the ground just as you were sliding off the horse. He gave you his hand as you were, and you took it.

“Thank you.”

Atticus and the other workers went to a lone tree where their horses were tied. Atticus then approached both you and Lucius.

“Well,” he smiled. “it was lovely hosting the both of you. Please come back as often as you can; I’m sure the children will miss you.”

You all exchanged your final goodbyes, and it when everyone rode off away from you, did you realize something. This was the first time in a while you were alone with Lucius that wasn’t when going to sleep or waking up.

“Do you have a name for the horse?” Lucius asked.

Turning over your shoulder, you led the steed to the tree, petting her as you began to tie her up. “Not at the moment. She’s yours too, do you have any?”

“You’ll be with her more; you should name her.”

Humming you looked at him when you finished securing the horse. “You asked them to give her to me, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “They asked how they could repay you for taking care of their children, I mentioned how it would be a longer journey to the city once we moved here. That’s all I did.”

…He was better at asking for forgiveness than for permission; that was another thing you learned about him. Still, you nodded your appreciation, inspecting the area around you. It was quite beautiful even with its plainness. The fields stretched on for miles, and there were no tall buildings to cover the night sky. Even the unfinished house brought a sense of happiness to you.

Something that was, at least partially, your own.

“Where will the barn and chicken coop go?” You questioned.

A hint of a smile played on his mouth, but in Lucius fashion, did his best to hide it. “You were complaining about not having a roof, and now you wonder about things for the animals?”

“Perhaps I’m more interested in farming that you are.”

“I’ll teach you.” he led you into the house. “Come on.”

 The front living space was large, and in the corner of it had an oven, so that was where the kitchen would be. Lucius showed you the two rooms as well; each having a single pillow and a blanket.

“We’ll begin planting tomorrow.” he announced. “I don’t think I’ll have to wake you up.”

“You won’t.” You nodded. “Goodnight, Lucius.”

“Goodnight.” He said your name.

You didn’t think you’d ever get over the sound of your own name from his lips.

You named the horse after your mother. Well…not the exact same name, but a similar one. It was quite a scene too when confessing to Lucius you could exactly remember how to ride a horse by yourself.

He didn’t laugh at you, that was what greatly surprised you. He spent an hour teaching you, and you were able to ride her on your own.

Farming was more difficult than you thought it would be, but not so horrible either. Yes, where Lucius was patient with you for the first few days, he made a few snide comments as time passed. Nothing outright mean, but still enough to get under your skin.

Still, you managed to pick it up within the few weeks after that.

He had even let you help him finish the roof of the house; something you didn’t expect him to do. After living in the house for a month, both of you managed to buy actual beds for your rooms, among other luxuries like a few tables and chairs for the main living area, and utensils both for cooking and for eating.

The bathroom was completely bare. Having spent all the money on everything else, it would take time for the both of you to buy a bathtub. Bathing wasn’t a problem back on Atticus and Diana’s farm, but now being away from them, you would be forced to rely on the public baths in the city…

Even with some bathhouses having baths only for women, that did not stop men from forcing their way into them.

You didn’t mind being dirty for weeks on end.

The two of you fell into another pattern of life; you going into the city and spending hours translating foreign dialogue, and Lucius working on the farm for most days, sometimes accompanying you.

There was…something else strange as well.

It was always a coin toss on what weeks Lucius would speak to you or not.

Yes, he was always a man of few words, but this was different. There were some days when you asked him about his day, he would tell you what boring tasks he did. Than, on others, it was just one word: “Good.”

Never “Bad”, never “Just okay”; only “Good”. Even when you knew it wasn’t, that’s all he would say.

And you could endure it.

It had already been a little over half a year since the two of you started living together. In the eyes of Rome (as mere Plebians), you would be married once a year passed.

This was perhaps the best marriage you could ask for as a Roman woman. Still…every day that Lucius would not speak to you only brought more dread upon your shoulders.

When he stopped even looking at you, that was when you went to Diana one day.

“It’s so lovely to see you.” She smiled, setting down two cups of wine and sitting. “It’s felt like ages!”

With her youngest baby on your lap, you chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “You honestly didn’t need to get the wine out.”

“Nonsense!” She waved her hand. “It’s a celebration just to be in your presence. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

“How’s the farm? Lucius?”

“Well,” you took another sip, setting your cup down. “the farm has been alright. I know at least how to properly water crops and know when they’re ready to harvest or not. I help Lucius sometimes, but…he likes things his own way. He was a farmer too, I understand.”

She hummed. “And as a betrothed? I hope having your own home would help; to me, you two treated each other more like acquaintances than anything else.”

All you could do was avoid eye contact and bounce the giggling baby on your knee.

“Ah.” She sighed. “So not much has changed?”

“We both talk more than we had at your farm, but somehow, less at the same time.” You explained.

Diana reached over and held your hand, asking softly. “When was the last time you were intimate?”

As if she were a man, you tore your hand from hers. “What?”

“I do not wish anything to be forced upon you,” she stated first. “especially with what has happened to you. But…it is still important, especially to your future marriage.”

“We…we haven’t done anything in…months.” You were not going to tell her you hadn’t even seen him naked. You were not going to tell her you hadn’t done you “duty” as a woman.

She nodded. “There must be something plaguing his mind terribly.”

“I know that!” You cried. “He just won’t tell me.”

“Men do not like talking,” Diana sighed. “I have been married to Atticus for fifteen years, and even after seven children, there are parts of his past I still do not know of. What Lucius frets over is important though. You must dig your heels into the ground and let him know you are not doing anything until he tells you what he has issue with.”

The baby on your lap cooed as you held her, reaching for parts of your clothing. Diana took her from you once the baby started fussing, and you offered her a grateful smile.

“I’ll try my best with him.”

She squeezed your shoulder. “He will come to his senses. If not, then he truly hit his head too hard in the Colosseum.”

Except, you couldn’t confront him when you got home. Even though the sun was only beginning to set, when you arrived, the house was silent. You peeked into his bedroom and saw that he was already fast asleep.

With a sigh, you finished your nightly activities, and when the sun went down, you were in your own bed.

The nightmare was unlike any you had before.

Hands from all around you reached out to you. Some grabbed clumps of your hair, stuck their fingers into your mouth, caressed the most intimate parts of your body, or even tear your skin off.

You blinked and then you were in the palace, surrounded by cloaked figures. Someone forced you onto your back, and you looked up and saw Geta, raising a knife high above his head before diving it into your stomach. He carved it out before digging his hands into the opening he made and pulled out your womb.

After sitting up in bed, you had thought you awoken. When you opened your bedroom door, you were welcomed to a field of reeds, seeing nothing for miles. All but a silhouette in the distance. You could not make out it to be a man or a woman; all you knew was that you needed to run to them.

Yet, even as you dashed through the fields, calling out a name you do not even remember, your feet sank into the ground with each step.

The earth swallowed you whole before you could even reach them.

You didn’t awake with a scream; you didn’t even awake with a cry. You did awake in a sweat. Sitting up, you slowly pulled the blanket away from your body. Your stomach was unwounded, and nothing had happened.

Without knowing why, you rose from your bed and slipped on your sandals. Not even putting on a robe, you walked out of the house into the cold, night air. Numbly, you treaded through the tall grass away from the house and stopped.

The stars above you watched as you fell to your knees, and the past finally had the last laugh.

You wept for your mother (whose touch you never felt).

You wept for your father (who you had to take care of the same way he took care of you).

You wept for Marcus (the first man outside of your father to ever see you as a person).

You wept for Lucilla (the woman who saved you in more ways than one).

You wept for the innocence you lost to the twin emperors (and how you mercilessly killed them).

You wept and wept, until you felt bile claw its way up your throat and out of your mouth.

The tears did not stop even after you were finished.

Two hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you tried to tear yourself away with a sharp cry. You were turned around, and even though your tears blinded you, you could see that it was Lucius.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes grown.

You couldn’t speak clearly, only shaking your head and saying ‘No’ over and over. Lucius led you to the water pump and sat you down by it. Cranking the handle until the water flowed freely, he cupped his hand to catch some of it before gently washing your face.

The cool water grounded you, and your sobs began to slow. Once you were only left with shallow breathing and a stuffed nose, Lucius finally sat beside you.

“What happened?” He asked again, although, returning to his normal, straight-toned self.

“Bad dream.” Was all you said.

He said nothing at first. Then, looking down at the grass beneath him, he said. “Would talking about it help you?”

It was meant to be a helpful question, but it only angered you. “You ask that now? After I run out into the night screaming?”

Lucius squinted his eyes. “Why does that bother you?”

“I know you have nightmares too.” You scoffed. “I have asked you dozens of times if you wish to talk to me about them, and you have always said no. You’ve never once asked me about mine, so how dare you expect me to tell you about it now when you cannot even share yours with me!”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head.

You stood up, walking back to the house. “You’re right, it isn’t fair.”

He jumped to his feet. “You can’t walk away without telling me why this is troubling you.”

“You first.”

“What?”

You turned to face him. “We are to be married in less than a year, at least ‘In the eyes of Rome’ as you say, yet you do not even look at me anymore!”

His shoulders fell, and he shook his head. “I am looking at you-.”

“-I ask you how you are these days, and you lie to me every time.” You interrupted. “The few instances you allow me to work beside you, you criticize every little thing I do. I understand that I am the farthest thing you wanted for as a wife-.”

 It was that word that struck a chord. Despite saying it every so often those past few months…it was only then it occurred to you that where Lucius was your first husband…you were not his first wife.

He tore his gaze away from yours, as if he knew you had figured it out. You sighed. “Gods above…I’m sorry for what has happened to her, and I will never know the loss of a love like that…but I cannot be viewed as her replacement-.”

“-Who told you that you were?” He sharpened his tone.

You swallowed, knowing that this would all end in tears no matter what you said. “You do not tell me anything. I will never ask you to care for me the way you cared for her, but she is gone-.”

“-I couldn’t do anything after she died but weep and watch her body float into the ocean.” He hissed. “I vowed to kill the man that slaughtered her, and I didn’t. It had been perhaps just a month since her death, did I promise myself to another woman. I have dishonored her memory three times.”

“I do not know how long you need me to apologize for something I could not control, but I will if that means you will stop hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You hate that I will be your wife!” Your voice was growing hoarse. “I don’t understand it at all. I will be whatever it is you wish me to be in few months’ time, because you will own me. Even if you wish me to be dead, it shall be done because what I want will not matter-.”

“-Must you make everything about yourself?!” He finally yelled. “Would it soothe you if I said I despised every part of you? That if Jupiter himself came down and offered me my old life in exchange for you, I would give you up to him?! Would it give you any peace of mind if I told you I would have rather died in the arena than live a thousand years with you?”

You had expected him to at least pause after he made his confession. To at least have the courage to look you in the eye and watch as the words sunk into your being. Yet, as soon as he finished, he stomped back to the house; and you were alone outside again.

The tears upon your face glimmered from the light in the sky above you, for all you could do was stare at the little farmhouse Lucius had built for you.

How strange that something you once saw as a sign of devotion, was now revealed to be one of complicity.

He had admitted his disdain for your future marriage. You knew that it would be loveless (you would never escape that), but you wished at least for respect. Seeing as how you were not even going to have that, you dragged your feet over to the tree where your horse was tied up.  Mounting her with nothing but the clothes on your back, you raced down the pathway.

For the first day, you had stayed at Diana and Atticus’ farm. You said nothing about Lucius, and tried to spend the most time with the children to avoid any questions.

On the second day, you finally went back to the city. Even though the man in charge of you yelled louder than Lucius had at you, it did not phase you. You merely nodded and returned to work. With what money they paid you for the day, you spent it on a room at the safest inn you could find. You had another nightmare that night. Not as horrible as the one two days prior, but awful enough for you to lay awake until the sun rose.

The third day seemed to be ordinary, until you finished your job, and you were promenading along the market. As you eyed the fruit at Isidorus’ stand, a man came to stand beside you.

“Good sir,” you heard Lucius’ voice. “do you have a wife?”

Isidorus nodded. “I do.”

“What from your stand would you give her if she was angry at you?”

He eyed you before smiling at Lucius. “My ears to listen.”

You turned, promptly walking away. Of course, Lucius followed.

“I didn’t know you confided into strangers about our qualms.”

“He’s not a stranger.” you kept trying to lose him. “And gifts will not suffice for an apology this time.”

He got in front of you, uttering your name. You stopped, sighing. “What else have you come to say to me?”

“That I am a fool.”

Although you weren’t necessarily expecting him to admit it, you only nodded. “You very much are.”

He began. “For my entire life, I was not allowed to be entirely truthful with others. Whether it was how I felt in the moment, or even my own name. I’m not used to the freedom of being candid with one another. And I have been mistreating you; I have provided a home, but I haven’t provided your wellbeing. Ari-.” Lucius paused, breathing through his nose. “Arishat and I lived on a farm, that was all I knew while being a husband. I will love her until the end of my days, but that does not give me the right to neglect you. I will…I will try with all my being to share my thoughts with you.”

You stared at him, feeling as if you would blink, and you would awaken from another dream. Yet once you did and saw that he was still in front of you, you said.

“I didn’t mean to insult your memory of her.”

He shook his head. “I believe she would hit me if she were here and saw how I treated you.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “Truly, for everything. I…it’s not only you, I don’t know if I will ever feel like myself after…everything.”

Lucius already knew. Still, looking around himself, he then said. “Where is your horse?”

“The inn I’ve been staying at has a stable. You walked the whole way here?”

“It’s what I deserved.”

“You smell horrible.” You mustered a shy grin.

He mirrored you, looking away. “I have for a while.”

“I do as well. I was…I was going to brave the baths; would you like to join me?”

Your offer took him by surprise. Usually, a question like that would be an invitation to more salacious activities to take place. Still, what took him aback more was how you were initially so afraid of the public baths, yet there you were.

“I shall.” He agreed.

Thus, the two of you walked beside one another. There were many baths in Rome, yet it would be challenging to find one that had a separate bath for women and one for men. By the time you reached the third bathhouse, you sighed.

“This will do.”

Lucius shook his head. “I’ll ask the workers at this one if they know-.”

“-No.” You stopped him. “It’s fine. I wish to speak more with you.”

He was still hesitant, but gave in. The two of you entered and drifted off to the separate changing rooms. It was strange that the bathhouse had rooms for the different sex to disrobe, but not baths itself.

After locking your clothes away, you ventured out into the main pool. You were welcomed to an array of naked bodies. You weren’t entirely innocent of course, even before everything. You were never to see any of these people again; it was Lucius you would live with.

Quickly, you disappeared half of your body under the surface of the water and clung to the wall of the large bath. Other people around you laughed and socialized, only putting you more in the eyes of men who only came to the baths for one thing.

Yet, before you could take a moment to worry, your eyes fell to Lucius who entered. You soon averted them and felt the water shift beside you as he entered. You turned to look at him, leveling yourself with the side of the pool, essentially shoulder to shoulder with him. The hear radiating off of his body onto yours reminded you too much of that night months ago; the one where you whispered your name into his ear.

“What were you like as a boy?” You questioned in an attempt to hide how flustered you were.

He hummed. “Why do you ask?”

“If you wish to be more honest with me, than I think it should be best to stary with something minor.”

“I understand. I was spoiled growing up in the palace. Still, I wished nothing more than for adventure. All my life, the mere thought of war and battles were taught as a way to bring glory to the empire; pride for one’s family. I had gotten my foolish wish when Maximus died, and my mother sent me away from Rome.” He paused momentarily, before continuing. “I ran all across the land until I was thirteen, where I finally settled in Numidia. I had changed my named too many times to count and settled upon Hanno.”

Your attention did not waver for a moment. When he was finished you asked. “How old were you when you left?”

“Eight…” There was a sad silence between the two of you. A silence held in almost reverence for all the troubles he had been through. “What about you?”

Even with your uneasiness to answer your starkly different childhood, you did so; also have been promising to be honest with him. You spoke of your father, your past friends, the house you grew up in. He never once looked upon you with envy or hatred.

“Your father sounded like a good man.” He said.

“He was.” You nodded, feeling a weight settle in your chest. "I think he would have liked you.”

“I can only hope.”

The conversation halted after that, unknown if you should wait for him to ask a question, or for you to ask another. Both of your eyes drifted around the bath house as people filtered in and out. When your gaze fell back onto Lucius’ you watched his eyes flicker to something behind you. Before you could utter a word, he placed his hand upon your bare back, bringing his lips to the space between your ear and your jaw.

It all happened so fast you had no time to react, and your body shivered upon the feel of him being so close to you.

“There’s a man eyeing you from behind.” He whispered into your skin. “Don’t look at him, just keep looking at me. I’m sorry.”

You pulled away slightly, doing as he told. He traced circles on your back with his thumb, staring intently at you. Even as you shrunk under his eyes, they did not frighten you.

Deciding to play along, you trailed your hand up his bare arm until resting on his shoulder. You felt his skin erupt into goosebumps and he took a sharp intake of breath.

“Okay?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just…it’s been a while.”

Anyone with any sense knew that meant more than one thing. It had been a while since he felt anyone’s touch; nonetheless, a naked woman’s.

From behind him, you saw a small group of girls all looking at you. They all looked a little younger than you, and acted like so, giggling loudly and talking without a care in the world. It was only then that you noticed they were looking at Lucius.

“Is there someone eyeing me now?” He attempted to tease you when he noticed your gaze.

You nodded, no hint of humor behind your voice. “A good few of them.”

“Is that so?”

You removed your hand. “I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“Wouldn’t mind what?” He pinched his eyebrows together.

“…Getting your release from a woman that isn’t me.” You were puzzled by his seeming ignorance. “You’re a man, I understand-.”

He said your name with somewhat of gasp. You didn’t listen one bit.

“No, I mean it. I will not be more selfish than I already have been, expecting you to remain celibate because I don’t think I will-.”

Lucius said your name again and you stopped. Even when you did, he said it a third time as if to know he had your attention. He continued to run his fingers up and down your back.

“I will not dishonor you-.”

“-I have been dishonored several times before, it does not matter-.”

“-Listen to me.” He said softly yet firmly. “Even if I desired someone carnally, it is not selfish of you to want my loyalty. I’m not a boy who wishes to bed anything that breathes. I don’t think I can do so with someone I do not have any deep feelings for. You are my wife, and I will not treat you less.”

He didn’t call you his ‘betrothed’. As if, the moment you accepted his apology, you were already his other half. To hear him speak with so much certainty after neither of you knowing what any day would bring…it brought an astonishing comfort you never knew you needed.

“Thank you.” You felt like your heart could beat again.

“You don’t-.”

“-No but I do. I don’t…I don’t think I could give you anything of myself if you wanted it. It’s still…I remember a lot of what Geta did to me, and I forgot it at the same time. It doesn’t happen a lot in my nightmares, but it still does. That one night you found me he…he cut out my womb and held it in his hands. I thought I woke up, but I didn’t, and I think I was in Elysian Fields, but I only saw a shadow. I don’t know what any of that means.”

Lucius let you finish all of the anxiety you had thrown onto him. Still, releasing a shallow breath, he said.

“You die in most of my dreams.” He clarified. “The bad ones, I mean. A lot of people do, but you’ve been in them the most. There are times I see both you and Arishat, or my mother, or all three of you and…those are the worst. The night I found you outside, I couldn’t…I had a horrible dream that I couldn’t even see your face, but I knew it was you when I found you hanging in the Colosseum.”

If the both of you weren’t naked and, in the bathhouse, you would have embraced him. Yet, with the most understanding look in your eyes, you brought your hand to the base of his neck, his loose curls between your fingers. You swore you felt him relax into your touch for just a moment.

“I’ve known everyone to have their own beliefs of dreams.” You whispered. “They’re meant to predict the future, they reflect the past, they are punishments, they are blessings, and they mean nothing. I wonder if it’s possible they are all of them.”

He nodded. “I don’t know what I believe in anymore.”

“I do.” Lucius unknowingly leaned into you just ever so slightly. You grinned from ear to ear, pulling your hand away from him. “I believe you need to cut your hair.”

He chortled. “I’m not spending anything on cutting it. It’s fine.”

“I’ll cut it then.”

“I would rather be stabbed.”

“Oh, quit being dramatic.” you playfully swatted him. “There’s a reason I would’ve been a better hairdresser than tailor.”

The two of you teased one another for a minute longer after that. Than, even though the conversation died, it was not in vain. There was a quiet gentleness and protectiveness as you both shared a short distance between each other while bathing. Lucius kept his eye on you more than you did him, knowing that it was always possible a man could try to take advantage of you.

When all was said and done, you got your horse from the stable at the inn, and the two of you rode back to the farm with a newfound understanding of each other.

More than a year and a half have passed since the fall of the Roman Empire and its subsequent birth of the Republic. Your strange marriage with Lucius grew into a friendship of respect and understanding. You both talked more than you had when you were first betrothed, even if your busy schedules remained the same.

The farm had improved after its first harvest, even raising enough money to build a chicken coop and house a few chickens. The house itself was more furnished, and the two of you managed to purchase a bathtub, no longer needing to use the public ones in the city.

Both of you had changed as well. Even with what minimal farm work you did, it built both your strength and stamina. Lucius had begun to grow out his facial hair; not much for it to be an actual beard, but more so just under his nose. You’d joke about it looking like a caterpillar, to which he would lightly shove you away.

After the intimate discussion the two of you shared, it was only then you both realized you still didn’t know much about each other. Most importantly, the little things that made each of you a person.

So, you’d take time to get to know one another.

You were helping Lucius pull weeds around the crops when you found out he had ripped a monkey’s throat out with his teeth during his very first gladiator fight.

You were reading a collection of poetry one night when Lucius told you that you mouth the words of whatever you’re reading if you find it most interesting.

During supper one night, Lucius ate the entirety of the plate only to then eat whatever else you hadn’t. That was when your theory was proven right; he does forget to eat sometimes.

Both of you had tried to keep the housework to an equal amount; if he cooked one night, you’d clean the kitchen and vice versa. Yet, some remained stagnant; you always cut his hair, yet he always changed the horses’ shoes.

Cutting his hair was perhaps your favorite way to speak with him.

“Remember to clean your sandals before coming in next time.” He reminded you as he sat on a tree trunk outside. “You tracked in mud.”

Standing behind him while trimming small hairs, you shook your head. “My apologies, master of the house; it was downpouring and I was freezing.”

“Serves you right, I’d say.”

You placed the tip of the shears against his neck. “What else do you have to say?”

He snickered. “That you’re an astonishing woman who I am blessed to be with."

“Wrong answer, all lies.” You pretended to stab him, only to bring the shears back to his hair.

“I’m not lying!” Lucius laughed.

You only gave him a ‘tsk’ before continuing. “Are you sleeping any better?”

He said nothing at first. Your eyes drifted down to his hands and saw him pull on his tunic; another telltale sign of his nervousness.

“I keep seeing my mother’s face.” He admitted. “Only her face, nothing else.”

“It was the third night last night, right?”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “Would you want to hear a dream I had a few days ago to make you feel better?”

“Better because it was happy, or because you think I’ll feel happy I wasn’t you?”

“The latter.”

“Tell me.”

You turned his head to the side gently, continuing your work. “I stood in front of the entire senate of Rome, and they were all laughing at me. I don’t even know what I said, they only laughed and laughed.”

“Is that not what happened to you in the waking day?”

“No, they listened…I think.” You shook our head. “It more so angers me that, in the waking life, I presented logic to them, and they still chose Macrinus who showed nothing of the sort.”

“Some men like to speak of only desiring logic yet run away with their emotions once it is presented.” Lucius stated. “What had you told them?”

“That all of Rome would continue to riot if they killed Lucilla.” You said grimly. “I still don’t understand; they had their proof of the rage Rome’s children could feel when their general was killed, the only reason the city did not fall was because Macrinus was slain. I���m done.”

You set your shears down and Lucius stood, shaking the fallen hair off his clothes. He turned to you.

“If it matters at all, I think the only reason this house hasn’t fallen is because of you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shoved him playfully. “Away with you, you’re just as much of the reason as I am.”

“I do all that I can.”

There were moments like this where you would not speak of childhood memories or events of your day. These moments were reserved for the days where it felt like time slowed down just to give you two the grace to speak about them in more detail.

With only a single candle between the two of you one quiet night, you told him how you have to walk a different path in the city sometimes simply to avoid brothels; hating the sounds you would hear from inside, the stench of cheap perfume and sweating bodies burning your nose, the men who would brag to their friends about the women they had.

At breakfast one day, before the sun had even rose, Lucius told you about a time when he was ten, still on the run. He had gone into a man’s house with the promise of food, only to then be hit the head with something so heavy, he was knocked out. He had awoken in a dark room, but managed to find a curtained window, and escaped. He never knew what would have happened to him if he had woken up just a minute later.

There was tenderness you shared with him that you had never shared with anyone in your life.You sht

That was only more apparent on one fateful day.

The first bad omen for the day that morning was when you had run out of sugar for breakfast. The second was when your horse was extra stubborn as you rode her into the city; it was so out of the ordinary, you wondered if you did something to make her hate you.

Still, everything was fine once you went to work. At least it was for the first half of the day.

There were aggressive people from across the land coming into the city you certainly had to deal with, but the worst was when a man twice your size bluffed you with a slap. Even so, the other men you worked with had yelled and sent him away.

That day though…there was a woman with a look in her eyes.

You thought you had seen pure rage when you had been with Geta. Yet, that day was a lesson to you; wrath had many faces.

She mumbled in Greek, but you did not know what she said at first. Then, she attempted to speak Latin. You politely told her you could speak Greek, and so with exhaustion, she told you that she was going to visit her mother.

When asked for her mother’s name, she didn’t say it. After asking again, she became enraged, yelling at you that she should just be able to be let in. When you resisted, she grabbed your bad arm, yanking it to pull you closer to her.

The pain shot through your shoulder like a bolt of lightning, and you cried out. She tugged on your hair as the men beside you tried to pry her away from you. Luckily, she didn’t manage to yank any of it out once the men forced her away from you. Tears fell freely over your face as you cradled yourself, unable to stop the sobs from leaving your lips.

They let you leave early yet paid you as if you were there the whole day.

The ride back to the farm wasn’t any better, but at least your steed took notice of your heartache and was more merciful to you. When you made it home, you slowed her down when you saw Lucius limping towards the house.

You both stopped where you were, staring at one another as if you weren’t supposed to be seeing the other.

“Why are you back so early?” He asked first.

“Why are you dragging your foot?” You asked second.

Lucius took a deep breath, and you saw tears in his eyes. “I fell.”

The only time you had seen him cry was when burying Lucilla; it wouldn’t be from simply falling. You slowly pulled yourself off your horse but did so quick enough before he could rush to help you. You wished nothing more than to pull him into the warmth of the house, to sit him down and tend to his wound to distract you from your own.

Yet, the moment you took his hand, he began to weep.

“Oh Lucius.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to cradle his face. He wrapped both of his arms around you, bringing you onto the ground with him. You yelped a little when he squeezed your bad shoulder too tight, and he pulled away.

“What happened?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You need-.”

“-What happened?!”

Knowing he wouldn’t stop asking, you told him. “Someone at the gate attacked me. Pulled on my bad arm, my hair…it wasn’t as bad as you’d think-.”

“-Where is he?” He lowered his tone and his demeanor.

Your jaw dropped into a surprised huff. “She is long gone by now, and even if she wasn’t then as my husband, you should stay with me instead of wandering the streets of Rome hoping to find someone to be your anger’s victim!”

Though he still wore that rage upon his face, it soon fell once he saw your own tears fall from your eyes like dewdrops on flowers. Lucius laid himself flat on the dirt, and you sat above him.

“I have been married to you longer than I had been to Arishat.” He confessed. “I knew her for longer, but-but not as deeply; no, I-I knew her more than…I don’t…It’s been long since her death, yet there are moments I think of her, and I cannot stop crying.”

You never knew this was in his heart. You knew to never speak of Arishat, only listen whenever he would bring her up (even so, it was once in a blue moon).

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled, trying to pull himself together. “I know she is gone, and I shouldn’t be-.”

“-You shouldn’t what?” You interrupted. “Remember her? You think I wish for you to forget the woman you so loved?”

He shook his head. “No, but it’s selfish of me to-.”

You were the one to make him lose his words this time. With both hesitation certainty, you placed his head into your lap. It was too late for you to stop once you did, and you felt your own body tense. Then, upon taking a look at his body battered from rigorous work, and another at his face, which relaxed with his eyes fully shut, you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Lucius,” you sighed. “never will I think you are a horrible man for mourning her. You missing her shows just how much you adored her, and how she was a treasure to you. In another life, above all, I wish I could have met her. You are not in the wrong for wanting to see her again. I know you do not love me-.”

“-I do love you.” He opened his eyes upon saying it.

Your heart felt as if it was going to beat itself out of your chest and run away when he said those four words. To preserve your sanity, you took it a different way and smiled sadly.

“Not in the way you loved her.” You said softly. “But what else more can I ask for in a husband than one who treats me with a gentleness I did not know was possible? One who has been there to protect me even before we were married?”

Lucius took a deep breath, rubbing his face to clear away his tears. “You’re too good to me.”

“Gods above,” you groaned tiredly. “we can go back and forth on who deserves each other. Let us just go back into the house, have supper, and sleep.”

“I would like that.” He hissed as he went to stand.

Helping him, once he was on his best foot, you said. “You never told me what you did to your leg.”

He looked behind him at the field. “There was a snake and a rock.”

You gave him a look. “And what happened with them?”

“I don’t wish to speak of it.” He said grimly.

In any other instance, you would have laughed. Yet, as his eyes were still heavy from crying, you just nodded. The both of you helped each other into the house, and you sat him down on one of the several cushions in the living area.

“Your arm,” he asked. “how bad is it?”

You shook your head. “Just really sore. I think she might have left a nasty bruise or two somewhere, but I won’t know yet.”

“Put one of the cloths in the pot with water and put it over the fire.” He told. “Take it out after a few minutes, let it rest for another, then put it on your shoulder. It should help.”

“Thank you.” You stood, doing so, saying. “I swore we had bandages somewhere. I’ll make something for you to drink too; I bought some herbs just last week.”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you as you worked. If it were any other man, you would have felt unsafe; yet, it was only Lucius.

Little by little that night, both of you helped heal one another.

Half a year passed since that night, and you and Lucius had only grown closer. Perhaps as close as you could be with a man who was not your husband by choice.

Not much on the farm had changed; you two were living comfortably, and happily, almost making all the turmoil from the first year worth it. The both of you decided to make more visits to Atticus and Diana’s home, realizing just how much you both missed having someone to talk to outside of each other; but that did not mean you had to keep things hidden of course.

If anything, you shared everything with each other.

So much so, that when Lucius asked you why you held onto him longer when he embraced you on your birthday, you told him the truth.

“I don’t want every time we touch to be when it is in turmoil.” You explained, growing meeker. “And I…I’ve missed the feeling of it when it has not been forced upon me.”

Lucius stared at you with a look you had never seen from him. He had been gentle with you many a times, but they way his eyes fell into yours…

He took a step closer to you, and when you showed no sign of discomfort, he took your face into his hands. Your eyes shut at the feeling of him, and he pressed his head against yours. Never in your life had someone’s breath upon your skin feel so immaculate.

From there on out, it always seemed like you had to have a hand on each other one way or another.

It started with holding hands whenever walking through the city together. He used to ‘lead’ you through the crowds in the past, but more so with a hand hovering over your back. No, him holding your hand meant he would have to go where you would go if anything were to happen.

Alongside this, he’d reach over and hold it at Atticus and Diana’s house; whether it was during dinner, or simply just talking. The eldest child had said what the rest of the household had been thinking.

“They’re finally acting like they’re married!”

Because even when there were no other eyes besides yours, he would still hold your hand. You wonder if it ever became a way for Lucius to ground himself; because it certainly did for you.

You hugged him more often as well. Those used to be for ‘substantial’ occasions; those being celebrations or heartbreaks. Now, they were incorporated into greetings and goodbyes. Of course, it only took a few weeks before they were than made into simple desires.

He would be cooking dinner, and you would come beside him to embrace him. You would be gathering eggs from the chickens, and he would wait for you to set the basket down before tossing his arms around you.

At night, it was normal for you both to trade spots as one of you would read a story, and the other would have their head in the other’s lap.

This happened on so many occasions, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise for what Lucius proposed next, but it did.

“If you don’t favor the question I’m about to ask you, then you are allowed to never speak to me again.” He said, his feet hanging off the arm of the lecti couch you both bought that year.

“Well,” you scoffed, sitting on the end of it. “I will have to speak to you again because we live together.”

“Would you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Never in your life had you thought that would have been his question. When you didn’t speak right away, he backtracked. “I don’t expect you to. I understand if-.”

“-The nights are growing colder.” You stated, no visible uneasiness. “I’ve noticed it, and I don’t think any number of blankets could warm me.”

He swallowed thickly, and this was perhaps one of the first times you’d ever seen him like this. “Yes…it’s cold.”

You nodded, and another beat of silence fell between you two. Standing up, you tugged at the seams of your dress. “I-I’ll go change.”

“Yes,” he sat up. “I shall as well.”

Disappearing into your room, you tossed your day clothes off then slipped on a nightdress. After pacing around the floor for a few moments, you gathered the courage to go out into the hall and knock on Lucius’ door.

It was opened as if he was standing right behind it.

He wore just a plain, tattered tunic, and said nothing; yet, you caught his eyes run down you before immediately bringing them back to your face. You were not even in his room yet, and already your body grew warmer.

“May I come in?” You asked.

“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside and you entered.

Somehow, you were no longer man and wife; you were two people who had just discovered a strange, yet burning, feeling that you both held for one another. A feeling that you were both afraid to say aloud…because then it would be real.

The only light in his room was from the moon just peeking through the curtain of his one window. Looking around, you saw that it was still just the bare minimum; a bed, a small table beside it with a lamp, and a dresser. The only others things of note were his sword leaning against the wall, and just a few dirty clothes on the floor.

“I-I tried to clean before you came.” He mentioned.

“Is the rest under the bed?” You asked.

He chuckled. “Yes.”

Before you could change your mind, you pulled the covers off one side of the bed and slid under them. Glancing behind at Lucius, you saw him wear a look where you knew he wanted to say something.

“What is it?” You asked.

“That’s usually the side I sleep on but-.”

You rolled over to the other side. “Are you content now?”

He wheezed, moving to his designated side, slipping under the covers. “Very.”

“Good.” You smiled up at him.

His own mouth lowered as you could see him thinking. He then said. “I don’t expect us to do anything.”

You watched as his eyes dropped from you, as if it was too invasive just to merely look. Thinking from only your heart, you scooted closer, resting your hand on his arm. You ran your fingers up and down his muscles, but then guided his arm to wrap around your waist.

“Okay?”

He hummed, pulling you just a little closer. “Yes.”

“And we’ll just lay together?” You whispered. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

And that’s what you did. The compete truth was that you would caress him only to remind yourself that it was Lucius and not Geta. His arms, his back, his face…he was nothing like him.

After a few more nights, you told him that as you both lay awake, unable to sleep. He had pulled you on top of him that night, saying that you could see his face better in the moonlight. You only giggled, hiding your face in his chest; even that was too much for you.

It was easier to tell each other things in the darkness. You always knew that, but with being in the same bed (you had not gone back to your room for a week), the words flowed out of both your mouths.

“After my father died,” you said one night as you laid on your side facing him. “I would stroke my own hair or even my arms and pretend they were someone else’s. Even when I was with Geta.”

Lucius stared at you, then immediately began to caress your cheek. You shut your eyes, sighing at the feeling.

“I never thought I’d be able to sleep next to another woman again.” He whispered.

“And now?” You looked into his eyes.

He stopped his movements, but did not remove his hand. You watched every part of him. How his chest heaved shallowly, his arms tensing ever so slightly, but his eyes…gods his eyes. They were heavy as they looked at you; a look that made your heart flutter and not shutter.

Swallowing your fear, you sat up and inched closer to him. Your face hovered above his, and your breath heated his skin. His hand continued to trace shapes about your cheek, and shutting your eyes, you placed your lips upon his.

It was the gentlest kiss you ever shared with a man.

You had pulled away, dreading to see how he felt. When your eyes befell his gentle smile, and his other hand came up to cup your face, you kissed him again.

And again, and again, and again.

You climbed upon his lap without pulling your lips away from him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sat up, his own arm encircling your waist and drawing you impossibly closer.

Lucius parted from you, and as you whined at the loss of his lips, they soon settled upon your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your chin. Your heavy pants turned to soft grunts as he kissed down your neck, his mustache scratching your skin in just the right way.

Your hands settled into his hair the lower he traveled, moving your night gown off your shoulder to kiss your collarbone. You felt yourself becoming intoxicated from him, and only then noticed you had been for a while.

Oh, how you wished you could bottle up his laugh, his strength, his stubbornness, and get drunk every night. His kisses only added fuel to the fire that was your desire for him.

He sunk his teeth into your skin, and your body, once enflamed, ran cold.

“No!” You tore yourself from his lap, nearly falling off the bed.

Lucius said your name, leaning forward on instinct but soon stopped once he saw you crawl away. “I’m sorry.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. All you knew was that you needed to go, so you did. Cradling yourself in your arms, you got up from his bed, rushing out of his room and into yours.

You half expected him to knock on the door, then, when you wouldn’t answer, him yell and curse you before breaking it down. Yet nothing of the sort happened. You heard his own door open, and you saw his shadow on the other side, but he did not touch your door. He left after a moment of waiting.

When his own door shut, did you finally cry.

You told yourself that night, you would wake up far earlier than Lucius would so you simply wouldn’t have to see him.

When you awoke, you did the exact opposite. You laid in your bed, trying to return to sleep, only to be forced to lie in the dark. The sun rose into your room, and you heard Lucius’ door open. Still, you did not get up.

It was quite comedic, actually. With your door still shut, he knew you were still home. How he tried his best to keep quiet for you, yet his footsteps had always been heavy, the front door had always creaked, and you could always hear him cursing under his breath every time.

When you knew he had left the house, that was when you stood from your bed, slipping on your sandals. You didn’t bother changing out of your nightdress, leaving your room, and then the house.

Lucius was amongst the chickens when he saw you. He didn’t bother hiding the surprise upon his face at the sight of you. You walked to him until there was little space between you.

“Last night-.”

You took his hand from his side, placing it upon your face. He rubbed your cheek with his thumb as if it was natural. Kissing the palm of his hand, you trailed it down to your clothed breast. He breathed your name with hesitance, but you shushed him. You held his hand there, not taking your eyes off him.

“I will show you, one day.” You told him. “I will show you the mark Geta had made. The one where I myself can scarcely see it, yet I know that it haunts me. But now…” You brought your other hand up to his face, tracing your thumb over his lip. “I just want you to understand.”

He kissed the pad of your thumb, nodding. You embraced him, and he held you with both gentleness and ferocity. The rest of the day carried on as normal, yet you aided him with the chores on the farm.

You went to bed with him that night, but it was the first time he did not entrap you in his arms. You knew he was still afraid of hurting you, but you would be a liar if you said you weren’t thankful for the space.

Still, he would feel your touch every day; whether it was something as small as brushing his hand, or as substantial as kissing his cheek.

As the both of you lay awake one night, you played with the sleeve of his tunic.

“Could I lie on top of you?” You asked.

Lucius looked over at you, nodding. “You never need to ask.”

“I want to.” You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. “I never want to force you to do anything.”

His eyes fell to your hips before returning them to your face. “I’ll tell you if I wish to not do something. I hope you know you can as well.”

“I do. Would you like to touch me?”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

You moved his hands to your hips, which he held firmly, yet not enough to hurt you. You leaned down so your lips touched his.

“No teeth.” You said.

“No teeth.” He repeated.

Lucius sighed into your mouth as you kissed. Despite how you were on top of him, the kiss was sweet, shy even. When you pulled away, you trailed your lips from his cheek to his ear.

“Do you dream about me?” You rasped.

He said nothing, and you continued to kiss every part of his face besides his lips.

“It’s okay.” You kissed his Adam’s Apple. “I want you too.”

“Yes.” His breath hitched.

“What was I doing in your favorite one?” You kissed his pulse point.

“You,” he breathed sharply through his nose. “you’re touching yourself.”

“Would that please you?” You sat up in somewhat surprise, resting your hands on his chest. “To watch me do so?”

He shook his head. “I want to do what pleases you.”

It felt foreign to hear someone say they want you to feel good. Instead of cowering from it, you faced it head on. You kneeled for a moment, hiking your gown up to your hips before sitting back on your ankles,  exposing yourself to him. Lucius’ jaw clenched at the sight of your naked center, and he drew his hands away from your hips, falling them into fists upon the mattress.

“I wish to watch you as you watch me.”

Without looking away from you, he drew his hand down to his cock, pulling it out from under his tunic. Your eyes grew just a hint. There was no doubt upon him being more well-endowed than others, but it was still different from how you imagined.

Shutting your eyes, you trailed your fingers over your cunt, your thumb playing with your clit. The sounds of Lucius’ smothered grunts, and the skin of his cock on his fingers only added to your pleasure. Digging deeper and moving faster, you felt a coil within your stomach tighten when you opened your eyes and saw as Lucius’ gaze bore into yours.

Light moans escaped your lips as your hips moved with a mind of their own, watching the man beneath you take pleasure from his own hand. It was him chanting your name like a prayer that sent you over the edge. With your eyes shut, the coil within you snapped, and pleasure filled your veins.

Not long after, you felt a warmth coat your nightdress. Opening your eyes, you looked down and saw the white-hot residue of Lucius’ release. Your gaze drew to his cock, still clutched in his hand, yet red with droplets of white running over his knuckles.

You don’t know what possessed you to, but you lowered your mouth down to clean him with your tongue.

“Gods be good!” He huffed, laughing your name.

“What?” You wiped your mouth.

 “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Grinning like the devil, you slid off the bed, walking towards the door. “I hope it’s a pleasant one then.”

He sat up. “Where are you going?”

“To change. You dirtied me as well.” You teased.

“Take one of my tunics from the dresser.”

It almost made you laugh that he didn’t want you to leave for even a second. You opened the top drawer, grabbing the longest tunic you could find before facing him. “Close your eyes.”

He laid on his side, putting a pillow over his head. Many would find it strange how the both of you would see the most intimate parts of yourself while doing one of the most intimate acts together, yet you didn’t want him to see you naked.

But Lucius never thought of it as strange. He knew what you had been through, and never once judged you.

When you were clothed, you slid into bed, wrapping your arms around his body and pressing a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“You’re a good man, Lucius Verus Aurelius.” You whispered. “I will tell you that until the day you die, or when you finally believe me.”

He squeezed your hand, relaxing into your touch. You never slept so peacefully until that night.

You always had to see him whenever he would touch you so intimately. There would be nights where there was only a single candle in the room either while he caressed the swell of our breasts, or the inside of your thigh as you sat on his lap.

His fingers were too much for you at first, but he never ridiculed you. When you whimpered at the feeling, he retracted them, kissing your eyes. You asked him again to try, and he whispered praises into your hair as the pain from a dry spell soon turned into pleasure.

It was usually at night did these moments of exploration occurred. In the day, the most you would ever do was kiss. That is, until the first time you cut his hair since the discovery of feelings.

“I don’t want to get hair on your floor.” Lucius said as he sat on the floor, leaning his back against the foot of your bed. It was hotter than sin that day. He wore nothing but a loincloth, but that barely did anything to help him from the heat. You wore essentially a thin shift that would usually be under your dress; yet again, because of the heat, that was all you wore.

You sat on the bed, legs draped over his shoulders as you cut his hair. “It’s your floor too. You built the house.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I haven’t slept here for a while now. Besides, I will clean up.”

“I had no idea you favored doing domestic work now.” He turned and pressed a kiss to your knee.

You slapped the back of his head. “Don’t move! I’ll give you a bald spot if you do so again.”

“Yes, my mistress of the house.” He joked.

“You’re horrible.”

“You just told me I was a good man not so long ago.”

“And I can just as easily revoke that title.”

He stayed silent the rest of the time, but not from any underlining anger. Simply from his at ease posture, you knew he was smiling.

He smiled more those days.

When you were finished, you tossed your scissors aside, but Lucius’ hands settled upon your thighs, not allowing you to get up. You scoffed.

“What is it?”

He turned to face you, kneeling up to meet you. “I wish to try something, but only if you wish it as well.”

You rose your brow, but smiled, kissing his nose. “It will be difficult if I do not know what it is.”

Without drawing his eyes away from yours, he slid his hands up your thighs, bringing the bottom of your shift with it. It seemed normal at first, but once he lowered his mouth, your chest tightened.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I want to kiss you there.” His breath caressed your cunt and you mewled at the feeling. “I think you’ll enjoy it, but we don’t have to.”

Your heart changed from beating in fear, to then in anticipation. You loved how he kissed your lips, and every inch of your skin that was not covered, what would it feel like to have his lips there?

Kissing the top of his head, you laid on your elbows, nodding.

“Let me hear you say it.” He nosed the inside of your thigh.

“Yes.” You sighed. “Please.”

He lowered his mouth back down, pressing the lightest of kissed onto your center. You groaned through shut lips, only for them to part open as the hairs of his mustache tickled you whilst he began to lap at your wetness.

Tossing your head back, you sat up, running your hands through his hair, unconsciously rolling your hips to meet his mouth. His groan reverberated through your body, only adding to the pleasure you were feeling.

“Lucius, Lucius,” you babbled his name until it didn’t sound like a word.

His nose bumped against your aching clit the same time his tongue penetrated your cunt. You yelped as that familiar, tightening feeling swept over you. His half-lidded eyes would stare up at you every once in a while, as he would continue to drink from you as if he had been stranded in the desert. Just as you were on the brink of release, you drew him away from you.

“What-what is it?” He huffed. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, pressing your lips to his before scooting further up the bed. With one last breath, you pulled your shift over your head, revealing your bare body to him. His gaze ran over your figure unashamedly.

“Come here.” You beckoned.

He crawled onto the bed and over your body, yet still looked at your face. You took his hand and laid it over your breast. His body ran cold at what was on the side of it. A bite mark.

“He branded me all those years ago.” You confessed. “And it has not left since.”

Geta…

You ran your hand up his chest. “I love you, and I trust you with every part of my body. I need you to know that.”

“I love you.” He echoed, pressing the tenderest of kisses to the mark and you gasped lightly. “I have for so long now; I…I need you.”

“Then have me.”

He sat back on his knees, unwrapping his loin cloth and tossing it to the floor. Precum leaked from his sweltering cock as it stood upright like a pillar. You crawled over, kissing every inch of his face and climbing into his lap. He drew his arms around your waist, his finger tracing circles into the small of your back.

“I don’t know how long I will last.” He puffed heavily. “It’s been so long.”

“I just want you inside of me.” You kissed his jaw, taking his cock into your hand and sinking down onto it. It had been a while for you too, and while you were soaked, it was not enough to completely subside the tightness. “Just…wait.”

“I could die happy if all you wanted was for me to remain still as you’re above me.” He said into your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin because that was the only way to remind you that he was still there. The further you sunk down on him, the easier and more pleasureful you felt.

“I’m going to move now.” You said into his shoulder, and you did.

Slowly, at first you relished in the quiet slapping of skin and the breath moans leaving both you and Lucius’ lips. He trailed a syrupy line of kisses down your throat until he bowed his head to place them upon your chest.

“Your name,” Lucius said into your skin. “tell me your name.”

You gave him a look as you rolled your hips into his, yet sighed your name.

“Again.” He breathed, latching his lips around the tip of your breast.

You did.

“Again.” He kissed the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into his touch, saying your name a third time.

He repeated your given name, than following it with ‘Aurelias’. Your movements stilled, yet he did not care.

“You are the most cunning woman I have met, and you are my wife.” He stated, never looking away from you. Tears sprang to your eyes when you saw the same for him, and you gave him a messy kiss before resuming faster this time.

After months of being called a name that did not belong to you, especially whenever in the bedroom, Lucius was doing everything to remind you that you were yourself again as you felt pleasure.

It felt as if, after two years, ‘Julia’ was finally gone.

You chanted his name as if it was your favorite prayer, burying your hands in his hair and kissing his lips.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius…”

Because, just like you, how long had it been since his true name was uttered whilst in the throes of pleasure?

He moaned into your mouth, holding onto you tighter. You squealed when he rose up onto his knees, latching your legs around his waist and only crying out sharply when your throbbing clit ran across his pubic hair.

“Come on, come on,” he urged into your ear. “I know you can give it to me.”

“Lu-Lu-!” You moaned, running your nails over the thick field of muscles that was his back.

He said your name over and over again, until it was one word that was the end of you.

“Please.”

You came with your vision blinded from the state of euphoria you had reached. Lucius still held you above him even as his legs began to quake, bouncing you on his cock. You felt as though you were suspended in air when his groans stammered, and you felt strings of his cum paint the walls of your cunt.

Slowly, he lowered the two of you onto the mattress, laying you on your back like you were the most precious treasure in the world. You kept your legs around his waist, breathing with him with your chests glued together from your sweat.

“Lucius-.” You began, trying to shift under him.

“-Just,” he grunted. “just another moment. Please.”

How could you deny him? Every kiss he gave was loving as he laid upon you. His cock had grown soft, and even you were aware that you could’ve fallen asleep if you weren’t careful.

When he pulled away from you, you let out an involuntary whine.

“I thought you wanted me to get off you?” He kissed your stomach when he stood up.

You shoved him playfully. “Just clean me up and come back.”

“So controlling.”

Still, he did what you asked, bringing a soaked washcloth from the bathroom and cleaning you. You groaned out of both the cold water hitting your hot skin, and the heat from the air itself.

“We should’ve waited until night.” You whined.

“Why?”

“I’m suffocating from the air outside!”

Lucius hummed, tossing the washcloth aside and looming over you. “Then that forces us to wear nothing today, so that we might cool down.”

You nodded. “Perhaps you aren’t as feeble minded as I thought.”

He settled behind you, tossing an arm over your waist and pulling your back to his chest. Even though his cock pressed against you, the two of you were completely exhausted from the heat of the day’s work, and the heat of what took place only moments before.

The only sound was that of the cicadas singing in the summertime. Sometimes, a breeze or two of wind would bounce the curtain off the window, but for the most part, just the even breathing you shared with Lucius was all you could hear.

Lucius’ mustache rubbed your skin when he placed a kiss to your neck. “What’s going on inside of your mind right now?”

You grinned. “A proper wife would say that I was thinking of you.”

“But that’s not what it is.”

“It’s something that has nothing to do with anything of note.”

He squeezed you. “Spit it out, woman.”

Sighing, you felt a sense of dread in your heart; both for your thoughts, and also how your husband would react. So, you tried your best to explain it.

“Do you even wonder how you will be remembered?” You began. “Spoken from mouths? Written in books? Painted on walls? They’ll remember Lucius, the Lost Son, the Last Gladiator…What will they remember of me, if anything? Rome’s Cleopatra? Her Delight? A whore to the twin emperors? I like to fantasize that they will name me the first woman who sat upon the emperor’s throne, even if it was as the last of its consul. Yet, even if they name me…I will be Julia. The name of a slave, the name I only accepted when he would press me into the bed so roughly. I only survived because I would need to tell myself that he was doing all of it to Julia, not to me.”

It felt quieter in that room, even though the sounds outside did not cease. Lucius gently turned your body towards him, and he stroked your face with the back of his hand.

“You’re crying,” he uttered your name, frowning.

You wiped your eyes, wanting to hide from him. Yet, he did not allow it, pulling your hands away from you and wrapping them around his shoulders.

“Would you wish I remain silent, or share with you what is in my head?” He asked.

“Talk to me.” You answered.

“I never cared of what history would see of me.” He stated. “Even as a boy. I know that we are different in most aspects of life, but I believe it serves no one to wonder away how we will be viewed long after we are dead. I do not care if or what a stranger thinks of me in a lifetime later. I care how Atticus and Diana see me. I care what their children think. Above all, I care of what you see me to be.”

You pressed your head against his. “You’re pigheaded and quite foolish sometimes.”

“And it matters you say that.” He pulled you closer. “Because that is what you will tell others when I pass on.”

“You know I don’t think that is all you are.” You remined him.

“I do.” He nodded. “I will know you for your wit, and your protective nature, and your kindness.”

“I never truly thought of myself as kind.” You gave a pained smile.

“That is how I see you.” He kissed your brow. “And what I will say with my last dying breath.”

You wondered how such a man as himself could exist at the same time you did. A man who hated you prior to everything yet laid with you in bed. A man who treated you with a tenderness you never thought possible.

A man who could be the last person on earth with you, and you would only feel at peace.

You did not need to say anything to him. Simply by the innocent smile that spread across your lips, did he know. You fell into the most comfortable of silences together as you laid naked in the summer heat.

The both of you were lost to time as we all shall be one day.

Perhaps you lived on that farm for the rest of your days, or perhaps you moved to a different land.

Perhaps you had ten children, perhaps you had only one, or perhaps you had none and were content with each other’s company.

Perhaps you died before him, perhaps he died before you, or perhaps you both passed onto the Elysian fields together.

All that truly matters, at the end of all things, is the life the two of you led together, and what you and loved ones remembered the most of it.

[bluejay757]

reading Marceline's Scrapbook honestly and truly ripped my heart from my body.

It's starts off as Simon's journal and then he later passes it on to Marceline when he has to leave her.

This is his first entry, right after he found Marcy he talks about how when he found her she was afraid of everything around her, including him. That the first night after he found her she didn't sleep, but instead cried all night.

Simon talks about how much he loves Marceline, and how she's keeping him alive. Because if he didn't have her, he'd have no reason to live. He basically outright says he wishes he was dead so if he didn't have Marceline to look after he probably would have killed himself.

And it starts to get more and more sad when he starts referring to Marcy as Gunther.

This was Simon's last entry before giving the journal to Marceline and the last thing he said in it was, "God help me" which I find really dark for, one, a cartoon, and two, adventure time specifically since Glob replaces God in most peoples vocabulary in Ooo so this really highlights his humanity imo.

But whats really sad is seeing how significantly his hand writing changes over time, it starts out very neat and ends up looking like chicken scratch.

This was Marceline's first entry in the journal, she wrote in it for a while before Simon left her. I highlighted where she called Uncle Simon. Because...

She later refers to him as a father, yes I know it's in quotation marks but she's talking about Simon and Hunson in the same way and Hunson is her actual dad. Everything about their relationship makes me want to tear my heart out.

Edit: I saw a couple people were confused, when she says "day 4 without Dad" she is referring to Hunson, this is shortly after he stole her fries and she forced him to leave, but he did things far worse than that. He killed her friends after he promised he would help save them, and him eating her fries after she hasn't eaten hot food in literal years was just the straw that broke the camels back. She was maybe 11 years old at that point.

"Maybe more."

[deadsetobsessions]

Some night, he flew above the twinkling lights of Blüdhaven’s buildings, wind rushing through his hair and the feeling of weightlessness pushing at the curve of his back.

There were a multitude of things that Dick Grayson appreciated, loved, Bruce for. One of those things would always be that his adopted dad allowed him to fly once more, even after his parents’ wings were cut.

In the air, he was home.

In the air, Dick Grayson felt like he was living up to, flying alongside, the Flying Graysons. Every flip, every trick he used to go faster, to fight better, felt like his parents were there guiding his every move.

Time healed his hurt, but still, the hole in his heart remained.

So when one of his best friends, a ghost vigilante by the name Phantom, asked him if he wanted to see his parents, he froze like a deer in bright white headlights.

“What…?”

Phantom did a flip in midair. “Wanna see your parents? They’ve been asking if they could talk to you.”

“My parents… are ghosts?” That was the least pressing question he had right now, but it was all his mouth could speak.

“Kind of. It’s complicated,” Phantom side-eyed him. “It would require going into the zone.”

And just like that, Dick understood. After the Amity Park came onto the map and the Justice League fixed the human and alien and meta rights violations that were happening right under their nose, Phantom had permanently closed all access to the Zone. Save, of course, for himself and a few magic users, who all refused to anger the King of the Dead.

“The only way you’re getting to my people now, is through me. Should anyone try to get into the zone, without my permission… I will make sure that you and your family’s afterlives will pay the appropriate price.”

No-one wanted to test his threat. The afterlife is something few fucked with and came back whole.

The Phantom they’d seen on the news then was incredibly different than the one in front of him now. Dick knows, understands now, that it was because Phantom trusted him. After years of being denied help, years of struggling all by himself to keep reality from collapsing while avoiding getting experimented on by humans understandably closed his heart.

“You’d take me into the Zone?” Dick didn’t know what he was feeling. Hope, fear, trust, touched, happiness, something.

A lot of things.

Danny shrugged. “Yeah. I trust you,” he said as he glanced back at Dick-at Nightwing. “Only you, though. No one else.”

The question that remained was whether Dick trusted Phantom too. And considering the fact that the ghost king ironically saved his ass from being killed a couple of times meant, “Yeah. I- I’d love to.”

Danny smiled, all pointed teeth and solemn trust. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Now?!” Dick stood up anyways, his heart in his throat. Danny held out a gloved hand.

“Yeah, now. Haven’t you heard that death waits for no one?” At Dick’s concerned look, Danny added, “Don’t worry. You won’t actually die. You’ll come back whole and alive, I promise.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go, then!”

——

Clark Kent threw himself out of the window, Superman suit already on.

Seonds later, he was hovering in front of Bruce’s shadowy form on top of a gargoyle.

“Clark,” Batman greeted in his gravelly voice, irritated. “What.”

“Batman, Nightwing’s heartbeat- it disappeared!”

Bruce’s heartbeat stuttered.

[holylulusworld]

Not alone any longer

Summary: You try to believe in your blooming friendship with Clark.

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, loner reader, introvert reader, flirty Clark, low self-esteem, fluff, Lois bashing, Lois is the worst, destruction of a car

Catch up here: Alone again - Naturally

“Clark, you came,” you gasp as Clark stands in front of your home. He’s got a bouquet of daisies in his hands, offering them to you. “I mean, you’re early.”

“We have a date,” he half-laughs. “You remember we wanted to go on a date.” Clark nervously looks at you. “Did you change your mind?”

“No!” You hastily say. “I didn’t change my mind. It’s just…uh… I didn’t know what to wear.” You drop your gaze. “It’s been a while since someone asked me out. I didn’t know where we were going and tried on so many outfits that I forgot about the time.”

Clark flashes you a soft smile. He seems almost shy when you take the flowers out of his hand, and invite him in.

While you look for a vase, Clark looks around your small apartment. It’s nice, cozy and inviting. You’ve got fluffy pillows on our couch, and lots of plushies keeping you company while you try to write.

“I read one of your articles. Uh-the one about the missing cat, and how the owner did everything to find them. It was heartwarming how you described their reunion.”

You awkwardly look down at your shoes. Embarrassed about your meaningless article, you sigh deeply. “You shouldn’t have read that crap. No one does read it.”

“I liked it very much, Y/N,” Clark softly says your name, making you feel warm. You can see the honesty in his eyes when you finally look at him. “You’ve got talent, Blossom. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

You shrug. “I’ll never win a Pulitzer Prize, or be as famous as Lois,” you sniffle. “She’s a star, and I’m the dirt under her shoes. Let’s be honest. Out of all the people I know, I’m the loser among them.”

“Y/N, that’s not true!”

You raise your hand and shake your head. “It’s okay, Clark. Why do you think none of my so-called friends stayed in touch?” You wipe your eyes. “Lois only invites me to rub her success and fame in my face. She didn’t even recognize that I left the party. If not for you, I’d be dead, and she wouldn’t even care. No one does.”

“I care,” Clark steps closer to grab your hand. “Not only because I saved you, Y/N. Before, during the party, you caught my eye. You looked as lost as I felt. I sometimes don’t know why I live here, among people who’ll never understand the burden of my powers and origin.”

“Oh, Clark.” You suddenly wrap your arms around him to comfort Clark. The strongest and bravest person you ever met. Running your hands up and down his back, you murmur his name. “I babble about my unimportant life and ignore that you must be struggling too. Hiding your true nature must be exhausting.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around you. Clark holds you close to his warm chest, feeling his heart beat a little faster. He hasn’t felt a connection with a person for a long time.

“It’s easier now that I got someone important in my life,” he whispers against you. Clark buries his face in your neck and sighs.

“Oh, who’s that? Did you meet someone nice?” You innocently ask, dipping your head to look up at Clark. “I hope they are nice.”

“Blossom, I meant you,” he smiles and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You know about my secret for weeks, and didn’t try to take advantage of it.”

“Why would I? You’re a hero, and it’s an honor to know about your secret identity,” you shyly glance up at Clark. “Even though, flying still scares me.”

“I promise to fly carefully with you in my arms.” He smiles when you shy away. You didn’t think Clark wanted to see again, let alone, fly with you again. “I’ll not drop you.”

You giggle when he tells you. “What if you sneeze, and I slip out of your hands? I’ll end up as a pancake on the ground.”

Something flashes in his eyes. Not the red you saw in pictures or videos on the news. No. Worry, fear even. “I never get sick.”

“You never get sick?” You wonder aloud. “Oh, that’s good. I think. I mean, you’re from another world. Makes sense that our diseases can’t harm you.”

“Sometimes I wish that I was a normal guy, with normal problems and a normal life. No one would believe that Superman lies awake at night, dreaming of losing his powers.”

“You do?” you whimper. “I didn’t know you were lonely and sad too.” You hide your face in his chest. “But we are friends now. So, you’re not alone anymore.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “We are friends now…”

“Lois, what’s wrong?” You gasp watching your friend storm into your home. She huffs and throws her locks back while brushing past you. Lois looks around your living room, sneering as her eyes land on the daises Clark got for you.

“You know exactly what’s wrong,” she twirls around to glare at you. “Your life must be extremely shitty if you must go out with my boyfriend!”

“Your boyfriend?” You frown deeply. “I thought you’re single. And I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“Clark Kent!” She spats. “You had to date my boyfriend, didn’t you? Just you know, he only feels sorry for you. Pathetic little Y/N, always so lonely and sad, standing in the corner to lure sweet Clark in.”

“He’s not your boyfriend,” you’re getting angry. “You broke up with him over a year ago. And, when he talked to me, I didn’t even know he was your ex. What Clark and I do is none of your business. We are friends and like spending time together!”

Lois wrinkles her nose at the word friends. “Does he know you’re a frigid, emotionally disabled and whiny little bitch? I guess not.”

She raises her hand to slap your face. You flinch and prepare for the impact when something outside your window explodes. Dropping to the ground, you press your hands to your ear as Lois screams in terror. She needs a moment before running toward your balcony.

Ever the investigative journalist, she steps onto your balcony to look down at the sidewalk to see her car got destroyed. It seems like it got cut into two halves. “No, what…” She shakes her head. Lois knows there’s only one person in this world able to cut her car into two halves within the blink of his eyes. “Why would he do this?”

Superman floats high above the sky, unseen. Watching Lois yell at you, he got angry. Even more, when she raised her hand against you, he couldn’t hurt her, so he did the next best thing. Clark sent a warning to her.

“You destroyed her car,” you glance down at the people in the streets. They look like ants as you float above the city. “Why?”

“She wanted to hurt you,” Clark holds you safe in his arms as you cling to him. You’re still scared of flying around with him, but he asked you to come with him so sweetly, you couldn’t deny him. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I got so mad and… I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

“I’d smashed her car too if I had any powers,” you give him a cracked smile. “She was vile and mean without a reason. Lois only got mad because we are friends now. She is like a kid wanting her toy back after she threw it away.”

“I’m a toy?” He looks at you in his arms.

“No…that’s not…” you sigh. “I didn’t mean it that way. She’s just…”

“I know, Blossom.” Clark presses his lips to your forehead. “What she said was mean. I couldn’t let her hurt you even more.”

“She’s not wrong,” you sniff. “I’m not good with dates and such. Men usually run for the hills after one date because I get nervous and anxious easily.”

“Y/N, I like you the way you are,” he whispers. Clark dips his head to press a soft kiss on your lips—a short and sweet one to test the waters. You giggle as your cheeks heat up. “I like you a lot, Blossom.”

“I like you a lot too, Clarkie,” you smile at Clark, feeling your heart flutter. “Can you…” You giggle, “Kiss me again?”

You don’t have to ask twice. Clark kisses you again, soft and sweet, while you float about the city. You forget about Lois and the rest of the world. It’s just you and Clark, and that is enough…

Part 3 - FIN

Tags in reblog.

[asidian]

I nattered on about this a while back as an addendum to one of my other posts, but it got a little lost since it was a reblog, and the idea of it's stuck with me, so I wanted to come back to it again and expand on it a little.

One of the major themes of Dead Boy Detectives is that the good you do comes back around.

It surfaces and resurfaces throughout the series. The instances in the final episode are the most spelled out for the viewer, but there's one example that lives at the very heart of the show that isn't quite so obvious on first glance.

When Charles dies, Edwin is newly returned from hell. The show doesn't specify the timeline aside from that he escapes hell in the same year he meets Charles, 1989, but overcoming that much trauma within a year is a big ask any way you slice it. He's spent seventy years in survival mode. He's got to be a wreck, still.

At this point, he hasn't had time to develop any complicated leniency schemes to keep himself out of hell. Certainly their detective agency hasn't been formed yet. It comes later, in 1990.

For the entire rest of the series, Edwin has a least a partial ulterior motive for the good he does. He takes on cases and tries to make an impact for their clients at least in part so that he can build himself up such a shield of decency that if he ever gets dragged back to hell, he can try to plead his case. He's so ashamed of this that he doesn't admit it out loud until he's forced to by magic.

But when he meets Charles, none of that plan is in place yet. Here he hasn't taken the time to sit down and work out a plan at all. Here the agency doesn't even exist.

He sees this boy in the attic, beaten and freezing and huddling in a corner, and he comes to offer the only thing he thinks he can: light.

And when he realizes he can give more than that – when he realizes that Charles can see him, and what that means – he stays and gives more. Comfort, and kindness, and company, in the very darkest hour of all.

He takes one look at how battered Charles is, and he tells him, "I shan't hurt you."

And it is a big deal.

Arguably this one line is the very best thing he could have said to Charles in this situation, and Edwin, who struggles with people, who has spent seventy years in hell, who is still trying to sort through his own trauma, takes one look at this boy who has been beaten soon-to-be to death, and he knows that intuitively.

And to Charles? It must have meant everything. Charles has spent his entire life trying to be good enough. He smiles and struggles to please. He does the best he can for whoever he can, and for his entire life, it has never been enough. He's been hurt, over and over again, for failing to live up to his father's impossible standards or guess at his impossible rules. His so-called friends turned on him and murdered him for trying to keep them from hurting someone else.

He's on the verge of tears, alone in the dark, dying.

And then Edwin steps up carrying the metaphorical and literal light in the darkness, and one of the very first things he ever says is, "I shan't hurt you."

That's the baseline. That offer comes when Charles isn't putting on a show. He's not being brave, or strong, or charming. He's hiding in a corner, quietly freezing to death. But here comes this boy anyway, with a light in the darkness and a promise not to hurt him.

It's a moment of simple, honest kindness – of Edwin doing good because he sees someone and he wants to help.

And to Charles, it makes such an impact that he gives up his afterlife for this boy. He spends the next thirty years stepping in front of things that would do him harm. He keeps the lantern and brings it with him, when he comes to save Edwin from hell.

It's that very first moment of kindness, in the attic, that sets into motion the events that result in Edwin's rescue.

That one moment of genuine good, with no furtive selfish side intentions, comes back around to save him. He only knows Charles at all because he stopped to help. Charles only didn't pass on to his afterlife because Edwin was there for him.

And then, all those years later, Charles sets out like Orpheus down into hell to get his best mate back.

That good has come around again. That light in the darkness, literally and figuratively both, is there for him in his lowest moment because he offered it to someone else when they desperately needed it.

And that's beautiful.

[silent-stories]

𝐍𝐎𝐀𝐇 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (but you love him anyway)

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Noah had been counting down the days for weeks. He loved being on tour but he hated when you couldn’t go with him and he just wanted the moment when he stepped off that plane and into your arms to come soon. Your anniversary was today, and he was determined to make it special in the easy way he know you liked.

His original plan was simple: surprise you in the early morning, sneak in beside you when you were still in bed, and wake you with a kiss. Maybe breakfast in bed. He had even booked the flight to ensure he’d be home before you woke up.

But life had other plans.

It started with a delay, then another delay, and finally, after hours of waiting at the airport, the flight was canceled altogether. Noah had tried everything, getting on standby, begging at the counter for any way home, but there was nothing he could do but wait for another flight.

His texts to you in the morning had been hopeful. He didn’t want to let on just how worried he was. "I’ll be home soon," he'd written, trying to stay positive, but as each hour ticked by, the guilt gnawed at him. He was letting you down. He wasn’t going to be there. He was missing everything.

There were a lot of other people in the same situation as him and he couldn't even find a phone charging station with a free spot to save his dying phone.

"You can call her with mine, at least tell her that everything is fine and that you won't be able to make it in time." Folio had suggested.

"No, I can't not get there in time."

"Noah, it's almost nine pm and we're not yet-"

"I don't care. I just can't."

Folio had watched his friend walk nervously in circles until they finally boarded the plane that would take them home.

By the time he finally took the last possible flight, it was late. Way too late.

He was arriving home in the dead of night, long after the anniversary day had come and gone.

Noah pushed open the door to your shared apartment quietly, hoping you might somehow still be awake. He dropped his bags just inside the doorway and let out a long, tired sigh. His body ached from the hours of waiting and hoping.

In one hand, he held a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers he could find at the airport, a delicate mix of your favorite colors. Even though by now, it almost made no sense to give them to you anymore, for him.

The soft glow of the living room light drew him in. His heart squeezed when he saw you on the couch, curled up under a blanket.

You had fallen asleep waiting for him.

You must have tried to stay awake, hoping he’d make it in time. The coffee table was scattered with the remnants of a meal, something you had likely planned to share with him. Now, cold plates and empty glasses were all that remained of the evening that could have been.

Noah's throat tightened, and he dropped to his knees beside the couch. “Oh god…” he whispered to himself. “I’m so sorry.”

His hand gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful, and he hated himself for disappointing you. You deserved so much better. He had promised you a perfect day, and instead, he had left you alone.

“Fuck. I’m such a shitty boyfriend,” he murmured. His hand trembled slightly as he touched your cheek. He hated himself for making you wait, for letting you down on the one day that mattered most to you both.

As if sensing his presence, you stirred. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking as you adjusted to the dim light. You saw Noah kneeling beside you, his face etched with guilt and exhaustion. Despite the late hour, your lips curled into a soft smile.

“You’re home,” you whispered, voice hoarse from sleep but filled with relief. You shifted under the blanket and sat up, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you looked at him.

He nodded. “I’m so sorry, love,” he choked out, shaking his head in disbelief at himself.

You weren't sure if the twinkle in his eyes was from the light or from the tears he was holding back.

“I missed everything. I wanted to be here so badly, but the flights—everything got delayed and canceled and...”

He trailed off, his voice catching as the tears threatened to spill over. "I ruined our anniversary. I’m such an awful boyfriend, I'm so sorry.”

You sat up fully now, heart aching at the sight of him on the verge of tears. Noah wasn’t one to get emotional like this, and seeing him so broken over something he couldn’t control made you want to pull him close and never let go.

“Oh, Noah…” you whispered gently, reaching for him. Your fingers brushed his cheek, wiping away the tear that had finally escaped. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“But I—” he started, but you cut him off with a soft kiss. His breath hitched as your lips met his. You wanted him to know that it was okay. That you weren’t mad at him. That you were just glad he was finally home.

When you pulled back, his eyes were still glassy, but some of the guilt had begun to ease. “You waited up for me…” he murmured, glancing at the empty plates on the table, the melted candle wax that had once lit the room. “You did all this… and I wasn’t here.”

You shook your head, your fingers threading gently through his dark hair, your arms still gently resting around his neck.

“I did it because I love you. I wanted to spend the day with you, yes. But I’m not mad. How could I be mad when you tried so hard to get here? You can’t control flights, Noah.”

“I just… I wanted it to be perfect. You deserve that.” he whispered.

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing the stubble on his jaw as you held his gaze. “You are perfect,” you said softly. “You being here is all that matters. I don’t care about the time or what we didn’t do. I care that you’re home safe. I care that you love me enough to try this hard. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Noah’s chest tightened at your words. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve you, but in that moment, he knew he’d never take you for granted again.

“I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, closing your eyes as you pressed another soft kiss to his lips.

When you finally pulled away, you patted the space beside you on the couch. “Come here. Sit with me.”

Noah didn’t hesitate. He climbed onto the couch, immediately pulling you into his arms. The warmth of your body against his was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d been craving all day. You fit perfectly against him, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped securely around you.

That's when you noticed the bouquet sitting beside the coffee table, its soft colors peeking out from the edge of the crumpled brown paper around the flowers. You couldn’t help but smile as you picked it up and held it against your body.

"Hey, you got me flowers," you said softly, your voice filled with surprise and affection.

Noah’s eyes met the flowers in your hands, and he chuckled, his exhaustion still evident but softened by the hint of a smile. “Yeah, I... I got them for you this morning. I wanted it to be part of the surprise.”

You carefully examined the bouquet—a mix of pink roses, white peonies, and a few sprigs of lavender. It was beautiful, just like him. “They’re perfect, thank you.”

"I'm sorry that now they’re a bit-"

"Shut up. I said they are perfect. Thank you for this."

He let out a small laugh as you snuggled agaisnt him again.

You lay there in silence for a while, the weight of the day slowly fading as the steady beat of Noah’s heart lulled you into a peaceful calm. He kissed the top of your head and sighed, the last bit of tension in his body finally releasing as he held you close.

“I’m still sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled against his chest, snuggling closer. “You’re forgiven, Sebastian,” you said softly, a little chuckle leaving your lips. “Now stop apologizing and just be here with me."

He let out a soft laugh, a sound that made your heart swell. “Okay, okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

And that was all you needed.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

[ponderingmoonlight]

Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up

Pairing: Megumi x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?

Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS! but more in a really decent way, like I actually think if you have no idea of the manga you don't get that these are spoilers lol, HEAVY angst but also comfort, poor Megumi is at his lowest so TW if that offends you

I know I promised you a Sukuna fic it technically is and I will serve, but this basically wrote itself so I hope you like this as well hehe

Take a deep breath in and out, calm your tingling nerves, allow your feet to walk at normal pace. You waited so long for this moment, recovered from your endless injuries Sukuna conflicted on your body and soul. It took Shoko forever to stitch you up again, to make you look like a human being again. But there you go, walking on your very own legs, to finally see the true love of your life again.

When was the last time you spoke to him? Oh, you remember it exactly.

“I’m scared. Scared of what will happen, scared about the things we’ll lost…”

“Hey, you’ll never lose me, okay? I will always stay by your side.”

Little did both of you know he’ll break that promise a few weeks later and that he won’t return to your side for over a year. How hard you fought, how desperately you tried to stand a chance against Sukuna – only to get thrown out of life yourself.

“Are you sure you can handle this, that you are fit enough?”, Yuji questioned with his hand resting on your shoulder.

“You know you don’t have to-“

“This might be the only chance to get him back, right?”

Yuji smiled at you with that pained expression on his face you saw countless times these last months.

“Yuta and I think it might work. After all, everyone knows how much you mean to him.”

You clench your hands into fists. There is no doubt in the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is still in there, that he is still the boy you know and adore with all your heart. Even if it means you’ll get attacked again, even if it might end your life, you’ll have to try.

-Megumi-

Megumi’s body doesn’t move an inch, lifeless eyes staring into nothing but darkness. What time is it? He couldn’t care less. No, time doesn’t make any sense right now. Not when he lost everyone he loved. His family, his friends, his self-control. You.

His heart stings immediately. Oh, your gorgeous face hunts him down like nothing else. The way you talked, the way you laughed. The way you looked at him with widened eyes when your lifeless body fell to the ground, the way your blood pooled around his brown shoes.

Why? Why didn’t you listen to him when he told you earlier to stay away from Sukuna? Why did you decide to show up anyway, without Yuji or Yuta by your side? There was absolutely nothing he could do to save you.

Just like his sister.

Just like Gojo-sensei.

Just like everyone else.

It seems unreal to him. Unreal that he’s the one still alive, that all these people lost their lives through his very own hands. Oh, he’ll never forget the way you cared for his sister, your dumb inside jokes with Gojo. He’ll never forget the way you held his hand that one night, how your soft smile outshone the heavy moonlight.

“Don’t worry Megumi, everything will turn out alright eventually!”

Oh, how wrong you were. How awful these words make his guts turn, how desperately he wants to close his eyes forever.

No, you didn’t deserve your fate. Everyone didn’t deserve their fates. But he? He deserves nothing but death.

Nothing but emptiness.

Nothing but darkness.

“Megumi.”

Is he hallucinating again? Is your voice hunting him down like it always does? It sounds so clear, near to reach. As if he could open his eyes, stretch out his hands and-

“Megumi.”

Again.

His skin suddenly starts to feel warm, as if someone touches his arm. Impossible, no one should be here, it’s just him in this prison that never ends-

“Hey, I’m here. It’s me, (y/n).”

“(y/n)?”

That name. That gorgeous name he adores to the moon and back, that last name that saved him from giving up until you died in front of his eyes.

“Hey, it’s been a while.”

“You’re dead.”

That voice sounds so unknown, so far away that you flinch for a second. Is this really Megumi and not just a cheap copy of him? You swallow hard, desperately try to contain your emotions. Oh, how much you longed for this moment, to finally hold the love of your life again. But on the other hand, you can’t take the sight in front of you. Him laying curled up on the cold floor, face showing absolutely no emotion.

You shake your head. No, you have to be strong right now. If not for yourself, then for him.

“Open your eyes, silly. I’m right here”, you reply.

Gently, you cup his cheek with your hand the way he always secretly adored. This just has to work, you need to get him back.

He hesitates for a moment, breath stuck in his throat. Is this really you or just his own sorrow reminding him of the things he’s done? But what…

He opens his eyes.

His gaze finds yours.

Time stands still.

“I missed you, cutie patootie.”

Reality hits him with full force. This might be a cruel trick, a hallucination. But that nickname was always a little secret between both of you, how you called him in private. No one except you knows about it. No one except you looks at him with so much love gleaming in their eyes. No one except…

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

“I know you think I’m dead but…I made it, Megumi. I never gave up hope to see you again.”

You can’t hold back the waterfall of tears that now streams down your cheeks, eyes holding onto his gorgeous face for dear life, afraid to lose him all over again.

“(y/n).”

And for the first time since you know him, his eyes get watery to the point where they overflow with tears, the salty stream getting caught in your hands.

“(y/n)”, he whimpers again.

“Don’t feel sorry for what happened. It wasn’t you but him. I don’t blame you”, you blurt out immediately.

“(y/n)!”

Faster than you’re able to comprehend what’s happening, he wraps his longing arms around you, presses you so close that your lungs refuse their service for a second.

“I thought you’re dead. I thought…I killed you.”

The sheer agony in his voice forms a painful lump in your throat. Oh poor Megumi…He doesn’t deserve to feel this way, doesn’t deserve to hold all these horrible memories. How much you’d wish you could simply take his pain away, could make him forget what happened.

But all you’re able to do is holding him tightly.

“You would never harm a single hair on my body-“

“But I did!”, he screams.

“I hurt you! I almost killed you! Just like Gojo-sensei, just like Tsumiki!”

His voice breaks, a dry whimper escapes his lips.

“I…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt another soul. I don’t wanna li-“

“Stop right there.”

Desperately, you force him to look into your reddened eyes.

“This wasn’t you, Megumi. Did you hear me? No one ever thought it was you. We loved you, we missed you, we want you back. When Shoko stitched me up, all I was able to think about was you. Fuck that shitty jujutsu world we’re living in, fuck all the curses and monsters and humans. Think about us, Megumi. Think about what you told me back then, that you’ll always stay by my side. Because that’s were I need you, this is why I love you more than anything else. In my eyes, you’ll never be anything apart from Megumi Fushiguro!”

Without thinking twice, you press your despairing lips against his, taste the salty tears of him and you that mixed on each other’s faces. His arms wrap themselves around your back and waist, hold you into place while you get lost against the lips you know so well but yet not at all. Megumi just needs to come back to you, needs to find his willpower again.

“I need you”, you mutter against his mouth.

“I love you.”

The agony radiating from his voice becomes almost unbearable, lets you hold onto his neck even tighter. No, Megumi didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to see his loved ones die right before his eyes. He didn’t deserve all the things he’s been through. But this right here, this is just right.

This is a reason to hold on, right?

“Promise me you won’t give up”, you urge.

“Promise me you’ll give yourself the chance to heal, that you’ll stand with me and Yuji and the others. Just promise that you’ll come back.”

“I swore to myself not to be a burden to this world anymore, that I’m done with my pathetic life, that I deserve to die. But you’re alive, you’re lying in my arms…And now I’m too selfish to do that.”

Again, he caresses your lips with his in the gentlest way while his arms hold you in place.

“If I’m not able to look at myself in the mirror, I’m able to look at you.”

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[wpdarlingpan]

Snow Falls… In Love?

Part 3 (Finale) ❄️

Yandere Coriolanus Snow x innocent!Reader

Female Pronouns

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Manipulation, Yandere, Coriolanus Snow, Hunger Gamed typical warnings

Click below for the other parts! ❄️

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Snow kept his promise. The day after the games ended he woke up next to Y/N as the sun shined in then from the window. He simply laid there and watched as she slept and the ride and fall of her chest. It meant she was alive and that’s all he ever wanted.

She began to stir and her eyes opened tiredly before peering up at the boy who didn’t even try and look away.

“Why are you staring at me? Is my hair that bad?” Y/N teased as she used her fingers to brush down her hair. She’d never woken up beside someone before so that little nagging thought in her mind wanted her to look presentable.

“You look as beautiful as ever.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. She blushed flustered. It was odd. Going from waking up in a dingy vent, fearing for her life every second as more and more people died. Now she was laying in bed with the boy she thought she loved, but it was hard to determine. After all, who wouldn’t grow some sort of appreciation for the one who saved their life?

“Oh I doubt it.”

They continued to go back and forth teasing each other, almost making the air in the room feel that much lighter. To outsiders it looked like a married couple. They got ready and cooked breakfast together in an apartment Corio rented just for her. It was all very domestic as they simply sat in each others presence talking about what the plans are for the future,

After receiving the prize money along with Y/N, they went out to the shops and bought her clothes and the apartment, both of which she greatly protested not wanting him to spend money on her but he ignored her.

Then he paid off all of the debt for the Snow estate so Tigres and Grand’mam wouldn’t have to move for as long as they both lived. Sure it was technically his but he figured he’d be spending more time with his soon-to-be wife before they'd move in.

Coriolanus was someone who always thought about the future and so he made plans. He wanted to be married as soon as possible. It didn’t matter how long they’d known each other but he loved her. He wasn’t going to let some stuck-up capital prick take her away from him.

He gave it a week.

Y/N and he went on dates and he showed her things she couldn’t ever dream of. Of course, it only brought up her admiration but now she knew she liked him if not loved him.

Life or death makes people do crazy things.

The kiss at the capital zoo was something she thought about constantly. Now that the looming figure of death wasn't influencing her every move, she had time to think about what it meant, as well as the fact he called her 'my love' in the arena. She doubted he even remembered the last part cause he had never brought it up since.

Y/N wanted to believe all of these dates meant something. Meant that they would someday be together. But to her, it seemed like false hope. After all, no one would approve of them nor would Corio deserve to be stuck with someone from the districts.

Y/N and him were in their practically shared apartment when he asked her to come to the living room.

"What is it Corio?" She asked as they sat down on the couch. He took her hand into his and made his features appear sad.

"The President sent a letter today...'' He trailed off to see her reaction which was immediately frightened giving him the cue to comfort her. "He wants to send you back to District 12 to show them the control of the games"

"No! I don't want to go back! There is nothing for me there. My family is dead, I had no friends, I can't go back to that. You are all I have Corio!" She blurted out the last part before covering her mouth as if it was some sort of crime. It only made Coriolanus love her more. After all, that's what he wanted. her reliance only on him.

"He gave an ultimatum" Y/N shook in fear at the idea. What would it be? Would she be forced into hurting more people? Would she be treated worse then she was in District 12? There seemed to be no way to win. But she finally asked what it was.

"You have to marry me" Her jaw dropped and she instantly turned red. "He wants someone to be watching over you, someone from the capital in order to ensure you don't 'embarrass them' as he said. We could try and find you someone else-"

"No. Please." Y/N begged, she did not want to be sent away nor did she want to be stuck with someone she did not love. "I don't want this for you Corio. You deserve someone with a higher standing. I can't help you get anywhere in the capital and we know it is all about connections and standing, to which I have neither. I'll go back, I love you Corio, but-"

Coriolanus froze at the admission. Sure he loved her with his entire heart. Y/N was his reason for living. She was his.

But he didn't know she fell for him just as he did her, even if it was at a lesser level.

He reached over and pulled her into his lap, her legs on either side of his as he put both hands on the side of her face to bring her closer.

"I love you Y/N. I could never imagine being with anyone else. I want you by my side for the rest of my life." He brought her close and kissed her gently to which she reciprocated. Both tried to put their emotions int the kiss once more but it felt different. Y/N did not know how to pinpoint the feeling.

So she agreed.

Coriolanus had never felt happier. He had the girl, the money, and the power.

But all that rises must fall at some point.

It was the day before their wedding. everything was planned out. Even Tigres made her a beautiful dress just waiting to be worn down the aisle.

Corio had been on his way back home to Y/N when he saw Sejanus go down an alleyway looking around hesitantly. So he followed him.

He was led to a door that was thin enough to hear through if someone tried hard enough and oh he did.

"I know a way out. It can get us out of Panem. If you just go north-" Sejanus was talking to an unknown voice. Coriolanus felt betrayed, he knew how much a sympathizer he was to the rebels but he never thought Sejanus would go as far as to abandon Panem. He grabbed a small recorder from his briefcase and slipped it under the door just enough to catch the information more clearly.

They seemed to be in a rush, not even bothering to check out the door if anyone was there. Nor glancing at the blinking red light.

Once he had enough information Coriolanus took it and ran out of the alley. Walking once he got out in order to not look suspicious.

He quickly went home, letting himself in as he heard Y/N cooking in the other room. The idea of seeing her and getting married the next day made him forget about the recorder sitting in his jacket pocket.

"Hello my love" He spoke as he walked in kissing her cheek. She blushed at the name but returned the greeting. Y/N was still getting used to the pet names and casual admissions of love. After that day on the couch determining they were to be married and they loved each other, he had changed. She noticed he was constantly checking in on her and telling her about how dangerous it was to go out without him. After all, they didn't love her like he did. They wouldn't understand what she had been through so they wouldn't treat her right.

He instilled all of these thoughts into her head and her fear of leaving the apartment alone increased by the sentence. Even when she woke up screaming from nightmares of dying or killing someone. He was right there comforting her, he could still see the kind and innocent glint that shined bright, the reason the capital loved her.

After all, she was what they could never be. They were too full of pride, gluttony, lust, and greed.

He asked her about her day, albeit their was not much to do around the apartment so she sketched.

"Could I see it?" He asked and her eyes lit up as he showed interest in something important to her but she shook her head "It's not done yet. How was your day?"

She successfully deterred him from her and he went on about his day, not including the aspect of Sejanus's 'betrayal'.

They finished their dinner and began getting ready for bed. Y/N still was not comfortable changing in the same room so she straightened up the living room.

Y/N spotted his blood-red suit coat sitting on the chair by the entry way and went to grab it to hang it up but as she did something fell out of the pocket.

She looked down and saw a.. box? It fell open on impact leavig a small recorder to fall out. She knew he carried one around to have in classes or whenever he was learning with Dr. Volumnia but he usually left it with his other materials.

Y/N bent down to pick it up, accidently pushing the 'play' button on the side. She was startled and attempted to turn it off when she heard what it was saying. The rebels. Leaving Panem. All of it.

Why would he have recorded this? She didn't know or at least she didn't want to believe it.

Turning the box around she saw "To Dr. Volumnia" Y/N knew of Coriolanus's loyalty to the Capital, he would never leave it. She knew he was working to design the Hunger Games and of course, a part of her broke at the idea. But, he always treated her like she was worth everything and she loved him.

He was planning to turn Sejanus, someone she met and determine she liked, in as a rebel.

Coriolanus Snow walked into the room, annoucing it was her turn to change and get ready when he saw what she was holding. His heart beat faster and his jaw clenched.

Of course it wasnt Y/N's failt, it was Sejanus's for putting him in this postion.

"Sweetheart?" He called softly as if she was a frightful animal.

"What were you going to do Coriolanus" Y/N spoke giving him a look of anguish.

"What is right."

"This is not right! Sejanus is your friend!"

Coriolanus scoffed at the idea of his 'friend' he was a traitor.

Although Corio supposes he should thank him, after all once he turns this in he will be praised and likely bring him and his love even higher up in the world.

"I don't need him." He walked over taking the box and recorder from her hands before returning it to his coat pocket.

Y/N rushed for the front door. The coldness in his voice scared her. He was willing to sacrifice his childhood friend for what? Power? Money? What she did know was that she did not want to be next on that list.

She pulled it open but a hand reached above her head, shutting it instantly before pushing her against it.

He held both of her wrists above her head as she struggled before growing tired. The adrenaline and anger are being replaced by fear and sadness.

"This is for us my love. When I give this to Dr. Volumnia she will tell everyone what I did for the Capital. How I saved it from the rebels and traitors that claimed to be one of us."

"But I am not one of you! My name is Y/N L/N, and I am from District 12. I hold no power with my last name nor do I have a fortune to sit behind. I am part of the Districts!" He kissed her harshly before he began to speak

"Sure right now you are, but tomorrow? We will be married, You will become Y/N Snow. An heiress to the Snow name and future First Lady of Panem."

Y/N scoffed as she looked at him defiantly. Of course she loved him, it wouldnt turn off in the blink of a eye. He was all she has ever known after being alone for so many years but he was foolish to think she would still marry him.

"I would rather be sent back to District 12, Hell even marry some stuck-up prick than marry you." Her words lacked venom which he picked up on but it only mildly dulled his anger.

His delusions of his love didnt allow him to be anger at her. After all, all of this was Senjanus's fault for corresponding with the rebels in the first place. It isnt Y/N's fault that her sweet mind was corrupted by those foolish rebels.

Still, He wouldn't reveal that the president wasn't forcing them to be married, why would he expose more secrets that are already laid to rest.

"You act as if you have a choice, my love. We will be married tomorrow Y/N Snow. This will all come to pass and we will be the happiest couple in Panem. I will give you everything you've ever desired. My love for you will never die Y/N."

Y/N struggled some more before he reached into his other pocket of the nearby coat. It held some powdered substance. He kept Y/N pushed against the door with his body before quickly opening the powder and blowing a small pinch in her face,

"What did you do?" She cried out, worried it was the same poison se used in the games. "Did you poison me?'

Coriolanus's face grew sympathetic as he put the powder away and picked her up bridal style as her muscles grew limp.

"Of course not my love. I would never hurt you. I'm sorry I worried you, This will just help you get some sleep. After all, we have a big day tomorrow." Y/N went to protest as she felt her eyes close and his grip around her loosened as she was laid in the bed. "Sweet dreams."

Meanwhile, he went and grabbed her sketchbook. He was curious about what she had spent the day drawing and he had nothing else to do before joining his dear fiancée in bed.

He opened it to see a drawing of the two of them, it was an almost photographic image of one of their dates when he took her on a picnic.

Coriolanus tore the page out and placed it in a frame, she claimed it was not finished but he had a feeling it was just cause she was embarrassed to show him.

Walking back to the bedroom he got into bed, kissing Y/N's forehead who was out like a light.

Knowing he would be getting what he dreamed of when he awoke the next day.

~*~

Y/N awoke the next day to Coriolanus out of the room. He sent stylists to help her get ready and had a few guards blocking the exit. The outside at that. He would not allow any men near her while she was getting ready. He didn't trust anyone's intentions, not even the women but someone had to get her ready, and Tigres would cave in an instant. He paid them to get her ready as they were assigned to ignore anything she said about leaving or not going through the wedding.

After all, he couldn't do it himself, it was bad luck to see his bride before the wedding.

After a lot of struggling Y/N figured it wasn't the stylists' fault. She vowed to not lose her values even now.

Then she was escorted to the wedding venue. No one was there to walk her down the aisle and nobody filled the seating area other than Tigres and his Grand'mam.

The officiator stood at the end of the path, white rose petals lining the surface leading her to snow himself.

Y/N walked herself up to the podium where Coriolanus took her hands in an inescapable grip but the poor girl had already succumbed herself to her fate.

She told herself it was because she was tired and there was no way she would get out of this.

But a part of her heart ruled her actions. Just wanting to stay by the man who seemed to love her so dearly that he couldn't stand being without her. She would never admit it.

Not even during their vows where he promised to love her for all of eternity. That she would be his forever.

Not as he slid a beautiful ring on her finger that seemed to be made just for her.

Not even when the question finally came after his own.

"Y/N L/N, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in marriage in Panem, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Coriolanus gazed into her eyes, a look prompting her to say 'I do'.

A tear fell. For what she didn't know, A loss of freedom? or was it happiness to be married to the man she loved? Y/N felt as if she was forsaking her love and kindness, everything her mother wanted her to be, if she didn't try and fight back. But it was just so hard, she was tired of fighting.

"I do."

"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Snow, you may now kiss the bride."

Coriolanus didn't waste another second as he dipped Y/N lovingly. It was a kiss straight out of a romance novel. She kissed him back unknowingly and he knew right then she still loved him without any words needing to be said.

After all, Snow always lands on top.

~*~

Thank you guys for all the love of this story. I am hoping to do more Coriolanus x Reader in the future. After all once I see the movie again Tom Blythe will pull me right back in. I hope you all loved the ending and thank you again 💙

Also this is just an ironic fact but I didn’t do the word count in purpose.

The first part had 1k

The second has 2k

The third has 3k

Taglist:

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@h-l-vlovesvintage

@stelleduarte

@urmomsbananabread

@coconut-dreamz

@bricapellan16

@diannana

@olivetree420

[teeramoonlover]

Slytherin Boys - When things couldn’t work out for them

Mattheo Riddle • Theodore Nott • Lorenzo Berkshire • Draco Malfoy • Blaise Zabini

Warning: Angst, Grammatical error

Mattheo Riddle

Fake Relationship Too Late to Save

You remember the first time you met him in the library as he approached your table, asking if you could help him with his studying. Without you realize, the conversation between you and him bloom to something more. Stolen glances across the halls, hanging out at the Astronomy Tower for him to have smoke while you just need a company. He then brings you to Hogsmeade, sort of a date as he jokingly said, until the moment he kiss you under the first fall of snow. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"And it feel like the start of the movie I've seen before."

You never feel happier. He was your first kiss, first boyfriend. First in everything you couldn't imagine you'd get yourself into. Your friend told you his bad news, but he was sweet to you. You believed him. You told him one night on his crumpling bedsheets, with no clothes. Deep inside, he has goodness in him, it just no one bother to notice. That was the moment you see the glimpse of his true feelings to you, in his eyes like you were the stars to his dark universe.

That was until you heard his friend remind him about the bet. A bet for him to take your virginity. Galleons could be heard exchange among them but you couldn't see the reluctant look of his face. You were gone the moment it happen, without a glance back.

That was a month ago. After you overheard their conversation, you don’t want to ruin the moment. So, you play along with his game, crushing you trust pieces by pieces.

You could feel how slowly he's opening up to you, but your mind couldn't help to remind this was all a façade. His genuine laugh which was meant for you to see but thought it never felt the same. Passion kiss that he can't live without but feels empty for you. The way he hold you like he is worried you might slip away, slowly feel suffocating for you to handle. It was too much for you when he was over the moon.

When he starts to promise he will be with you for an eternity, you know you have to end it. Because you don’t want to give him hope as you slowly, dying out of love.

"But, it's not real, and you don't exist."

Theodore Nott

Secret Relationship Gone Wrong

Funny, isn't it? To think that one day he will be holding hands with you in the hallway, letting everyone know that you were together with him. His watercolour eyes were always dead once ablaze when his lips touched yours behind closed doors. His hands roamed, holding you in bed, gazing at you like you were his lifeline after he made sure his room was locked. His smile was bright under the sun, head on your lap near the Black Lake far away from pry eyes. Late night walks, spending time stargazing, sneaking out like thieves without getting caught by prefects and friends.

"I want a witness, he's staying guarded

He wants the blinds drawn, I just want him."

But as soon Hogwarts comes to life, no greetings nor eye contact as you and him cross the halls. His eyes never held warm, as if you were a stranger in the presence of his friend. Let random girls touch, flirting with him since he doesn't do relationships, as people claim. His lips stretched with a mockery smile as his friends belittled you in the worst possible way. You could only cry under the moonlight when he broke his promises, one at a time.

"Does he know it's killing me?

He'll never show me off."

Rumours spread that he's seeing someone. His friends claim they are dating. Your eyes meet with his hand intertwined with hers in the hallways. Realization hit you that a muggle like you shouldn't be dreaming of being with a pureblood boy like him. As you walk further from them, your head turned towards him as if you feel someone's eyes on you. Surprisingly, your eyes accidentally met his. His eyes sparkled as he saw you but slowly morphed into something you had never seen before. "What's wrong, Theo? You look like you've seen a ghost." The girl in green robes asked him worriedly.

"And I know that I should walk away this time"

Because the last time he saw was your resign smile as if that was her final goodbye for him.

After all, he will never show you off to the world you were his, as he wasn't yours to begin with.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Friends to Lovers to Stranger

You and Lorenzo were inseparable since you were both kids. Of course, little you will be having a silly crush on him as you grow older.

"I had a friend that turned to a lover."

You both surprisingly confess your love towards each other at the same time. It was like you and him were meant to be. After all, you know every little detail about him, so does he.

But maybe that too was the reason the relationship wouldn't last. Because you know him too much. Or you never know him at all.

"I'm stuck here wondering, wondering what I did wrong

You’re the one that I want."

Seeing him with someone else beside you pains you to no end. When he asks you for a breakup, you feel like the world is about to end. For him, he moved on from you too quickly as twisted as it sounds. He told you he finally found someone that understood him.

Then, what am I to you after all these years?

The last straw was he picked her over you, over and over again. Even if she was at fault, there would be a reason for you to blame, even though it wasn't. The last thing you remembered was that you had the biggest fight you ever had with him. His sentence will engrave in your mind.

"You know, I shouldn't have met you. I shouldn't even confess to you. You're just too obsessed with what I'm doing in my life, which is not any of your concern anymore. That's why I end it. Because you're being too much."

"I wonder if you, you still remember

The time when you told me no matter what happens we’d still have each other

But that was a lie."

After the war, you lived in a rural place. A place that you both once dreamed of when you were kids. A small hut that can see the sight of a pond, sparkling from sunrise till sunset.

You stop caring for him, even if it hurts to do so. You don't want to bother him with your presence. You don't want to show you care. Because it was too much for him. You can't seem to grasp the idea of being a stranger the next time you saw him.

So, you do what's best for you. You keep all his photos, gifts, even a stupid doddle, and sweet words he once told you in a box. You dig and cover the box full of memories deep in the Earth's soil, making it like a small mini graveyard for your fleeting memories of him. Astoria came to your doorstep. Her eyes held doubt, worried about you.

"Are you sure about this?"

You slowly sit on one of the chairs outside, picturing the scene one last time. You turn to look at Astoria, holding a smile that never reaches your eyes.

"It's for the best. You're a bright witch. I know you can do it."

Astoria took her time, before lifting her wand towards your head.

"Obliviate."

Draco Malfoy

This Relationship was Bound to End Anyway

"Care to explain why I heard about the arranged marriage of you with Astoria Greengrass?" Your bloodshot eyes meet with his cold silver ones. You could remember those pairs were always warm every time he laid his eyes on you.

Those were the memories you cherished dearly as the days went by. How you first found him in the Hospital Wing when you were both in third years because he's being a bloody idiot to challenged a hippogriff. Madam Pomfrey assured him it was just a scratch and not making a big deal out of it, while little you slowly approached him to tell him it would be just fine. You even put the soothing balm on his injured arm to emphasize your words.

You were shocked when he approached you, asking to be his partner for the Yule Ball. Of course you say yes. After all, you always attract the broken souls. That was until he kiss you under the mistletoe at the Astronomy Tower, and confess you to be his.

After troubles upon troubles he's done, you never left his side. You loved him deeply, so does he. Promises upon promises he made for you but the one you believe the most were both of you will be forever. Until the moment his father was caught and sent to Azkaban because he's working associated with the Dark Lord.

"Darling, nobody say that it will last forever."

You can feel his sudden shift. How he become distant from you. How he become so quiet and prefer live among shadows, even you can't bring out the joy in him. You know he was a Death Eaters. But you still stay. During the war, you plead to him for the last time, but he was the boy who had no choice.

So he left you, among the shambles. So does your breaking heart.

You thought when the war is over, he will come back to you. Oh how wrong you were.

"Just like that? No explanation, nothing to tell me at all? If you don’t love me anymore, at least spare me your goodbyes."

After you broke things off with him, next week you had receive his wedding card. Him and now Astoria Malfoy.

Six years later, rumors told that he had a son but unfortunately for the wife, she passed away. It's been a long time since you never spoke to him. Until that night.

He still miss you. He couldn't move on from you. He wants to fulfill the promise they both made since fifteen.

"Hope you know, I wished you all the love you're looking for"

Today he's wearing his best suit to look presentable to you, waiting for you walking down the aisle, towards the altar. You look beautiful in your overflow wedding dress. For the first time, he saw you the happiest. They exchange the vows. For you now, to take Fred Weasley as your husband and him to declare the world that you are his.

After all, you were always attract the broken souls as if you were the angel that guide their lost to the light. Draco Malfoy was once your lost souls. It's time for Fred to feel the same, as he deserve after the loss of his twin.

"Two burning hearts are dared to break,

Remember, nobody said that it would last forever."

Blaise Zabini

Can't Live Without Dead Lover

It was just a marriage, bound without love.

You know what you get yourself into, but you can't help but fall deep into him.

He was a kind gentleman but never was with you. His words were never gentle nor did a single kindness wherever he spoke to you. He will always remind you who you are to him. He never once laid a hand on you. His touch was always cold, but you embrace his flaw. Even if it will kill you in the end.

"In the end, you’ll leave me like all those men walking out from my mother's life."

He should have uttered those words carefully. He couldn't help but say them so you could feel the pain like he had right now.

However, slowly and surely, there's a saying that men love too late. But you still wait for him. You understood the unfairness that was given to him.

He never felt grateful. You, as his wife never sway from his immature tantrums and stupid shenanigans. He felt like you deserve someone better. So, he made the best out of this marriage. He wants a family. He wants to be a better man for you.

Every time he was done working at the Ministry, to him, coming home was bliss. Because you will be there to embrace him with a warm, undying love that he never felt before, even from his own mother.

"It was heaven a moment ago

I had it almost, we had it almost."

But it seems like the universe was mocking him. The previous words with blunt venom towards his beloved wife slowly set them like a prayer to become true. A wish of your existence permanently erased from his life.

Your last moment with him was when he brought you to the theatre. As a gift for their anniversary. It was like his past coming back to him, eating him alive. It happened too fast. The unforgivable spell was meant for him, but you won't let that happen. You love him too much. So, you hug him for one final time and take the hit.

The only thing he could remember was him crying, hugging your body close to him, felt your last, final breath. Your body lay in the coffin as he kissed your forehead with your cold hand in his. Your tombstone held your name as a reminder of your absence in his manor.

"I can't seem to let myself leave you,

But I can't breathe anymore

I can't seem to not need to need you,

And I can't breathe anymore."

Every year he will visit you with your favorite bouquets of flowers. He knew you despise loneliness, especially in the dark. So, he will make sure to spend as much time with you, telling you about his journey. As if you were there for him.

In his dream, in his heart. Always.

[derpydoteddrake]

An analisis on the symbolism of this shot and what it means for Jayce and Viktor

(this does not contain any le*ks, only material that has been officially released so far.)

But first to understand what this shot means, his connection to the new magic and how this relates to his relationship with Viktor, we need to look at what his bracelet represents.

He got the crystal for his bracelet by a mage who saved him from an impossible situation, this implanted in him a lifelong obsession with the idea that if he could give this tool to people, he could greatly improve the lives of many.

But since he knew they would not allow experiments like this in Piltover in normal circumstances, he needed to do it in secret. This is what at that moment the bracelet represents.

His conviction is so strong, this goal is so important to him that he made the reminder of that fateful encounter something that he can not just carry, but wear it on himself everywhere he goes. However it is hidden, the same way he needs to hide his research.

But then he is found out, his research is going to be destroyed, and he loses all hope in completing his dream. So he takes the bracelet off, as a symbol on how he is given up. But then Viktor comes into the picture.

He gives his bracelet back and with it his hope for his dream, it's no longer something he has to burden himself alone, it's not just Jayces dream anymore, and so he declares: our hextech dream.

And this gesture and this declaration changes the meaning behind this bracelet, it's not just a symbol of his dream anymore, it's now a symbol of their shared dream of helping people and in turn their relationship and partnership.

This thematic connection is later emphasized when he complains about being useless in the face of Viktors illness and his frustration about not being able to develop the technology he wants to and he reflexively tuches it.

And after he no longer needs to hide it and he can fully pursue his dream, he puts it on proud display, he turns the crystal upside down and even has clothing that lets his bracelet show, he is proud of they work and he shows that off.

But in the shot we got for the crystal to embed itself in that way, he needed to turn the bracelet upside down. And why would he do that? Well, he would need to be so disillusioned with their dream, so ashamed of letting Viktor down that he doesn't even want to be reminded of it.

I dont think it's a controversial thing to say that Jayce will have a chance to destroy the core and he won't, which initially Viktor will be mad about, but later allow Viktor to do his shenanigans with it. Thematically that would make sense.

But the bracelet isn't just worn in a different way, that would be reversible, the crystal is literally burned into him with a crack in the middle. It is irreversible. What does that symbolize?

Easy, they didn't just lost they dream,

THEY DREAM IS DEAD

The crystal is no longer a symbol of his hopes and dreams and a wonderful relationship, It is a symbol of his failure to do good with hextech, broken promises, and letting down his closest friend.

it is grotesquely melted into him forever, a reminder how he cannot escape the reality he helped create. Giving hextech to people is no longer a dream, it is real and it's a nightmare, he didn't improve anyone's lives who needed it, he made weapons to oppress.

And the gem is cracked in the middle, mirroring his broken relationship with Viktor, the man he let down over and over again, he wasn't there when he needed him, he went against his will and made weapons, and he failed to fulfill his promise to him.

Since we saw Viktor will gain the ability the transform people, I would teorise that he will be the one who will melt the crystal and metal into him in a heated argument. (tho his powers are distinctly purple)

It is not something he wants to remember, but it is something he will have to carry for the rest of his life.

And now Viktors mind is twisted, he was not strong enough to destroy the core when his mind was still intact and now Viktor commits horrific acts in the name of trying to do ultimately good.

And so the bracelet is not just a reminder of his failure, but also a reminder of the promise he will have to fulfill one way or another.

[miley1442111]

HEYY I WAS THE ONE WHO ASKED FOR THAT FIC WHERE RAFE HAD TO CHOOSE IT WAS PERFECTTTT SO MUCH MORE PERFECT THAN I WAS EXPECTING!!! THANK YOU SO MUUUUUUUCHHHH YOU SAVED MY LIKEEEE!!!!!

So... Since you saved and now im already in dept with you can I ask for another one??? Pleaseee!! If you dont like Its ok just ignore and If you feel uncomfortable IM SORRYYY.

It would be something like, Rafe gets into a fight as always and then the reader, his friend tries to break the fight and then the other person fighting Rafe says something like "YEAH LISTEN TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND/THEYFRIEND" and like every single person on the vicinity goes dead silent because everyone know you guys like each other but didnt realized yet and EVERYONE is scared of Rafe and also both of you have a partner, whos RIGHT there and will for now on live with the knowledge that: Since Rafe and Reader met, every other relationship they would have would be the runner-up.

Maybe Rafe and Reader trying to prove everyones wrong by sticking to the partners but its undeniable how the two are good for each other, how the always serious and scary Rafe looks like a normal funny happy guy when hanging out with the Reader who also goes from a quiet apathetic person ta burning sun.

Sorry this os too long 😭😭😭😭😭

Also i typed that listening to Entombed by Deftones

Byeee love youuuuuu

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waiting game- r.cameron

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a/n: welcome back light of my life anon. ur too cool i knew u listened to deftones bc only cool people can. thank you for requesting :)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader, male oc x fem! reader, rafe cameron x female oc

summary: i suggest you look at the ask

warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, rafe is a bit of a fucking prick to Ava and reader, rafe is confused and a dick, cursing, underage drinking, drinking, suggestive mentions, reader is going through it, rafe is a crybaby, violence, creepy guy (I think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

----------------------

Rafe watched as you crossed the busy dance floor, two drinks in hand. Usually, one of those would be his, he was your best friend after all. But in recent weeks, you’d been becoming friendly with a pogue named ‘Elijah’. He hated him, seriously, he did. He was a piece of shit in Rafe's eyes, and somehow that made you like him more. 

You and Rafe had been friends since you were little kids, and you’d always brought out the best in each other. When Rafe was around you, he wasn’t a lunatic with raging anger issues and a god complex, around him, you weren’t the shy, quiet girl everyone knew you to be. It worked well, and you promised each other that you’d never bullshit each other. That meant; he’d never lie to you, and that you’d always tell it to him straight. It worked, and it worked well. 

So well in fact, that people usually assumed you were dating.

Years and years of being told by your respective friends and family that you two should ‘just date and put the entire island out of its misery made the idea even less appealing, at least to you. You always wanted to do the opposite of what you were told, and that meant never even thinking of Rafe in a romantic sense. Obviously, Rafe never thought of you like that either. He didn’t think about how sweet your lips would taste, how well you two fit together, how you brought out the best in him, or how much he loved you being around. He’d never think about how good calling you ‘his girlfriend’ was when he had to fend off assholes at the bar. He’d never even mention how good it felt to know he was your first kiss, and how you were his (courtesy of you two being very drunk 15 year olds). 

He never thought about any of that. That would be weird, right?

So he stood, his new girlfriend, Ava, hanging off of his arm as he watched you sit in Elijah’s lap. 

“Rafey,” she whined and he winced. He hated that name. “I’m so drunk!” 

She’d had a beer and two vodka lemonade’s he’d made with about one shot of vodka between the two, she wasn’t drunk. Ava was the perfect kook princess, and she was driving him crazy, but Midsummers was in three months, and his dad told him he needed someone respectable. That’s what he’d told you when he asked for candidates, though he must’ve failed to mention the way his dad asked him to bring you. 

“Ava, go sit down then,” Rafe shrugged her off of him. “I have to go talk to someone, ok?”

“You’re seriously leaving me here alone?” Her face formed a frown, but Rafe couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck. 

“Yes,” he answered before walking off to find you. 

The last couple of months had been very freeing for you. You’d finally gotten over the crush you’d had on Rafe for years, and you were finally out having fun and really dating for the first time. You had your friends, and Rafe finally stopped scolding you like an old man every time you went out with the pogues, you made friends with more people from the mainland since you’d started to go to college there, and Rafe had a girlfriend, so he wasn’t constantly with you, making your crush come back. It felt good. Elijah was hot, and all you really wanted was to fuck someone, and he’d do just fine. Dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and if the semi he was sporting underneath you now was any indication, he was do just fine in the ‘fucking’ department. 

“So what are you studying?” he asked, taking another sip. The mixture of drink and smoke in the air made your head spin in the best way. 

“Journalism and English lit,” you answered, pressing your hand against his chest. “You?”

“Maths,” he answered and you laughed. 

“That’s unexpected,” you chuckled. He looked like he was a surfer boy, not a maths major. His dirt tank top, worn-in swim shorts, and salty skin. He was hot. He laughed with you as his hands travelled lower, grabbing your ass, and you didn’t even mind. 

“I know, right?” He smirked. 

“So why did you pick maths?”

“I’m good at it,” he shrugged. “And I got a scholarship.”

You nodded. “So can you do like, any maths question?” You knew it was low-hanging fruit in terms of flirting, but you really weren’t in the mood for trying very hard. It was late and you were pretty drunk. 

He nodded nipping at your lips with his own. Your conversation was long forgotten as your finger ran through his hair and he groaned into your mouth. He was a good kisser, despite his wandering hands, which were either on your ass or tits, but again, you didn’t mind. 

He pulled away with glazed, lust-filled eyes. “You wanna get out of here?”

You nodded, then pulled him back in to kiss you. 

“Y/n!” Jj’s voice rang out in your ear, and he started to tap you hard on the shoulder. “Eli!”

You pulled away, annoyed. “What?” 

“Rafe is beating the shit out of  one of Eli’s friends, can you talk him down please?”

“What?” Eli asked. “Who?”

“Josh,” Jj answered. “Let’s go Y/n, before Rafe kills someone ideally!” Jj said it in a sing-song voice to mask the truth in his words. Rafe had come very close to seriously hurting people before, and every year he was just getting stronger (thanks to his gym addiction and never-ending rage). 

You reluctantly got off of Eli’s lap and ran behind Jj as he led you to the scene. 

Rafe was beating the shit out of Eli’s best friend, Josh and he was not looking good. He was trying to fight back, but you could tell he was close to tapping out, though you also knew that Rafe didn’t do ‘tap-outs’. 

“Rafe!” You shouted as the circle of people silenced. “Stop being a fucking idiot, get off of him!” you grabbed one of his arms, angry now. Your nights were always getting ruined by Rafe, especially recently. He had no right to pull shit like this, it wasn’t fair that you always had to clean up his messes. 

“Yeah exactly, listen to your girlfriend!” Josh spat. 

The circle of people watching went dead silent, and phones stopped recording. Both you and Rafe froze. Josh dropped to the floor, and Eli walked him off without sparing you a glance. The moment was frozen, and you were stuck in place, staring at Rafe's eyes.

Rafe could always tell how you were feeling but he couldn't now.

And it scared the shit out of him.

After another moment of confusion and being frozen, you looked after Eli, and tried to walk after him, but Rafe grabbed your arm. 

“Can we talk ab-”

“No! You fucking asshole! Did you really need to ruin tonight for me? Seriously? Go fuck yourself Rafe!” You cursed, then turned to the crowd around you. “Rafe Cameron is not my boyfriend, nor will he ever be, the shows over folks, fuck off!”

And with that you ran off to find Eli and Josh. 

----------------------

Rafe was searching the party for you. You weren’t where Eli had been before, and he wanted to talk to you, to drag you away from that piece of shit. 

In all honesty, the past few months had been a very confusing time for Rafe. He’d started college (only because his dad asked him to), he’d gotten his first long-term (3 months so far) relationship, he’d gone off drugs for the most part, he’d started feeling things for you. 

His best friend. 

Not that he hadn’t realised it before, but you were just so… you. So gorgeous, so smart, so funny, all of you. It was proving to be an issue, so he’d stopped hanging out with you so much, at least until he could figure out what was going on. He was about 99% sure his feelings were platonic, because everyone felt this way for their best friend, right? Obviously. Totally. Maybe?

He crossed the dance floor, only to be met with the face of Josh, Eli’s friend. And he was talking about you.

“Yeah, Eli’s got the only fucking hot girl here,” He smirked. Rafe hated how he smirked. He hated how he looked. He hated everything about this man, the one he’d never even met. “I’ll ask him if he’ll share,” he laughed like a sleazy piece of shit, and so did his friends. 

“Excuse me,” Rafe tried to move past them, but Josh grabbed his arm.

“Oh shit! You’re the boyfriend,” Josh chuckled and Rafe didn't correct him. “Sorry dude, she’s all mine tonight.”

And that’s when Rafe’s right hand made contact with his face. 

----------------------

Rafe stood there staring dumbly at his bloodied and bruised hands. You’d never spoken to him like that, ever. Rafe knew he could fly off the handle, and he knew it annoyed you when you had to fix everything for him, but you’d never complain. Tonight. Tonight, it finally boiled over and you shouted at him. Like he was anyone. Like he wasn’t your best friend, your Rafe. 

“You ok?” 

Topper’s voice cut through the ringing in his ears. Rafe’s eyes were glossy with unshed tears and it was taking a lot of willpower to not scream and try to break something, or sob and run after you. 

“Fine,” he said, letters over-punctuated as he rolled his eyes, looking up to stop the tears from falling. 

“Rafey!” Fucking Ava. “Did you get into another fight over me again?” She sighed, faking anger. He knew she didn’t give a fuck if he fought, she only cared about what the fight was about. 

“No,” he answered, getting closer to her face, dwarfing her with his tall height. “Go away.”

She pouted. “Rafey-”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” He cursed, grabbing the wrist of her hand, which was reaching to touch his face. “Ava, go home.”

“You brought me here,” she mumbled. 

“Yeah, so find another way home,” he chuckled softly, delighting in making her feel small. 

Ava looked down, angry now. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

Rafe just smirked. “But you’re still with me, so I must not be that bad,” he laughed in her face. “Unless it’s just your daddy issues-”

He was hit so fast he didn’t even know what had happened. 

“Don’t ever talk to her like that again,” Kiara scoffed, squaring up to Rafe. “Ava, you can get a ride with me, ok?” Ava nodded and walked off with Kiara as you appeared. 

Kiara’d hit him. And he’d deserved it. 

Kelce and Topper cleared off, they knew this was about you. 

“How’s Elijah?” He rubbed his red cheek. 

“Josh is fine, thanks for asking,” your voice was cutting and precise. 

“I asked about Eli,” Rafe growled, grabbing your hand. 

“And I answered about Josh.”

He chuckled. “Your friends suck.”

“Your girlfriend is a bimbo.”

Rafe smiled. “And she takes dick like a champ, what more could a man want?”

Your face went from mild annoyance directly to disgust. “I’ll see you later,” you scoffed, starting to walk off. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” He called after you. “I-I’m sorry, ok? I was an asshole, and I’m sorry. That was a gross thing to say, I’m drunk and I just got beaten up, can you please forgive me?” he begged. 

But you were still walking away from him, and he was losing you. He followed you through the hoards of people, pleading and begging for you to forgive him as he trailed behind.

Finally, on the most secluded area of the beach you turned to him with tears streaming down your cheeks, and he felt his heart break. 

“Fucking hell Rafe! Can you not just notice anyone else around you for once!? You just ruined my fucking chances with Eli, you just beat the shit out of someone, and you just treated your girlfriend like she was some fangirl, you think I was to be associated with you right now? Let alone with you right now?! Can you stop being so tunnel-visioned? Fuck’s sake!” You wiped your eyes. “I’m so sick of being your fucking babysitter, you’re older than me Rafe! Please act like an adult! Treat your girlfriend better and treat the people around you better!” You sighed. “Treat me better.” 

Rafe’s heart was breaking. He never wanted to hurt you, that was the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do. You were with him through everything, through thick and fucking thin. And he was treating you like this? This was unacceptable,and he felt so guilty he wanted to throw up. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, the tears finally falling. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, crossing your arms over. “Where?! Where are you fucking sorry Rafe? Because all I keep seeing is empty fucking promises and bullshit excuses,” You groaned. “You think I want to be the one scolding you? You think I want to have to de-escalate situations for you? No! This was my one fucking night off from work too, and you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry,” he was breathing heavily, he’d never felt so shitty. 

“Rafe,” you sighed. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean.”

And with that you walked away. 

----------------------

You dialled Eli’s number and prayed that he would answer. 

“Hey,” he sighed. 

“I’m so sorry,” you immediately answered. “Can we still meet up?”

He sighed into the phone. “I’m not sure Y/n, you kind of seem… preoccupied with Rafe.”

Fuck. Yet another one of your relationships ruined by Rafe Cameron. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t see it?” he chuckled. “You two are perfect for each other. He’s like the most angry and uncontrollable guy I’ve ever seen, and you control him and calm him down by just breathing. And you were the most shy and quiet person I’d ever seen, but when I see you talking with Rafe, or just being around him, you’re so much more brave and extroverted. It’s seriously impressive. You two complement each other Y/n. You bring the real him out, and he brings the real you out. That’s beautiful, and i’m not going to be the person to fuck that up.”

You finally understood. Rafe loved you back. You loved Rafe. Simple. Why did you ever overcomplicate this?

“Ok, thanks Eli,” you sighed, then hung up. You were still angry with Rafe, but you needed to tell him, and you needed to go now.

When you turned around, you ran straight into someone, Rafe.

“I couldn’t just let you walk away, you were crying and-”

“I’m super pissed with you, obviously,” you interrupted. “But I love you, like, love you. And I have for a long time.” 

Rafe’s jaw dropped. That’s all he had wanted to hear his whole life, and he only wanted to hear it form your perfect lips. 

“I-I-I-” he took a deep breath. “I love you too.”

He went in for a kiss but you pushed him back. “I’m still pissed, and you still have a girlfriend.”

He nodded, agreeing. “Right.”

You pressed your lips to his cheek. He smiled. There was a moment of silence. 

“Tanneyhill?” he offered. You agreed, and you walked there hand in hand. 

While you weren’t together yet, you would be. 

And that was enough for the both of you.

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[sabertoothwalrus]

hi !! just curious because i was looking at your adventure time episode guide and i love hearing other peoples adventure time takes !! how come you don't like finn's characterisation in together again?

I've talked about it before here and here!

But also I'm gonna say more and share some art I did in 2021 for a rewrite comic that I never got around to doing

So again to reiterate: Adventure Time is usually VERY good at making it feel like time passes, even when you're not watching. It's something about what they don't show that tells you everything you need to know.

Together Again did not do this.

It really really felt like they were avoiding showing Finn as an adult, as if they wanted to leave his post-show life ambiguous. Which, now that Fionna and Cake has shown us literally that, it makes Together Again feel even more wrong?? Like. imagine you have to pick a moment from your life that represents You™ the most. Together Again said that Finn, after living his whole life and dying as an old man, feels most represented by how he was at 17. I do not buy this. I am 25, and I cannot fathom identifying by my 17 year old self. I was a completely different person then, I was still cooking. I can imagine most people feel the same. And ok, so maybe Finn DOES for some reason feel stuck at 17? Explain to me why!! What needed to happen to him that made him feel that way?

And before you just say "it's because Jake died," there's still too much that was left out. How old was Finn when Jake died? What was Finn like, at that point? What else had they accomplished? What was he doing at the time that was on the forefront of his mind? Where/with who did they spend most of their time? Where were they living after the treehouse got destroyed?

It was like,,, it was like the story Together Again actually wanted to tell was about Finn's grief, and how poorly he copes, and how too much of his identity is tied to Having Jake, and how he struggles to move on. But that's not the story we got. I honestly think-- as interesting as it was-- everything with New Death and Tiffany and Lich just did a disservice to the focus, which was Finn trying to get over Jake.

I think Together Again should have gone like this:

Finn and Jake had always planned that whoever died first would wait in the dead world for the other to die so the two of them could reincarnate. Jake dies first. Jake would be able to "watch over" Finn as he lives the rest of his life, so Jake wouldn't miss Finn as much as vice versa, since he'd feel like he's still there with him. Eventually, Finn dies.

Finn's appearance would change with his emotional state. I thought it'd be interesting to show different phases of his life through the stages of grief.

There'd be a room where they could watch Finn's memories. Finn would walk Jake through the events of his life. We SEE exactly how Finn dealt with grief, with heartbreak, with love, with friends, with community. All the good and all the bad.

By the end of it, Finn is quiet. "Jake... when we reincarnate, will we.. lose all of this?" "Well, do you remember anything from any of your other past lives?" "No.. But that's the point. I don't want to forget you." Finn, despite their promise, despite Jake waiting for him all this time, declines reincarnating. He doesn't want to move on, because that would mean forgetting everything. He wants to say with Jake!! He JUST got Jake back!!

“What if— in the future— what if they forget about us? What if they don’t know about all the stuff we did?” We see Ooo in its current state. It’s changed, but it’s clearly been affected by the two of them. Every person they’ve saved, every civilization they helped build, every hero they’ve inspired. They’ve left their touch everywhere. “They’ll know,” Jake says with certainty. “We’ll know.” We see the future, with Shermy and Beth. We see the Finn Sword, and BMO with all their old belongings. Everything stays, but it still changes. Will happen, happening, happened. These have always been the themes of the show. They reincarnate, together.

[cameronspecial]

Some People Can Change

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Swearing, Mentions of Drugs and Angst

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Rafe really does want to change, but what happens if nobody else believes he can?

A/N: Rafe isn't a murderer and doesn't hide dead bodies in this one-shot, but everything else he does in Canon happens.

Masterlist

Y/N Y/L/N was only supposed to be a one-night stand. Rafe wasn’t planning on interacting with her after she left his bedroom. He was a Kook and she was a Pogue, who worked as a bartender at the club. However, when he woke up the next morning to the smell of frying bacon and the sound of “Dance The Night” accompanied by her dance moves, he knew she wasn’t really going to be leaving his life after today. Plus, her advice was life-saving. “I think I’m going to do something really bad,” he confessed to her, sitting at the kitchen island with coffee in hand. She looked at him in understanding, “Well, you said going to, which implies it has happened yet. And if it hasn’t happened, then you always have a chance to fix it. It’s up to you to own the fact that you recognize it isn’t good and to stop it.” This led to Rafe stopping the murder of his father that he put into action. 

———

Ever since that day, Rafe is not often seen without his arm around Y/N, looking at her like she is his world. Because she is. He knows she wouldn’t put up with the shit that he pulls on a normal basis, so he made an effort to stop his vices. He is just grateful she is relatively new to town and hasn’t had the chance yet to hear the gossip about him. This means he has a chance to turn his life around before she finds out. But no one in his life actually believes he can change. 

“I told you, Barry. I’m not dealing or using anymore. Not cocaine, not weed. I gotta go cold turkey,” Rafe reiterates, sliding the drugs and gun towards the pogue. “And I certainly don’t need this gun anymore.” Barry shakes his head and pushes the item back toward Rafe, “You really think you are going to last man? You aren’t going to be able to stay away from these just because of her. You can’t change man.” “You’re wrong. Every time I do drugs, I’m making the conscious decision to turn towards them. Y/N is helping me realize that I have other ways of coping with my issues,” he gestures his hand toward his chest to prove himself. “Come on, Country Club. Just take them back.” Rafe grows frustrated with this conversation. Instead of fighting back and yelling at the dealer, he tries to take deep breaths to calm himself. It sort of works, but nobody is perfect. So he storms out of the trailer with the loud clang of the front door closing behind him. 

He gets home from Barry’s storming into the living room with his anger clear on his face. “Love, what’s wrong?” Y/N poses, lowering the volume of the TV. Rafe gives her a harsh look, “WHAT THE F-!” He can’t finish his yelling because Y/N is already gently placing her hand on his sternum to guide his breathing. “I know you are angry about something, right now, but that gives you no right to displace that anger towards me. So if you feel the need to release this negative energy, then I would like for you to channel this feeling through working out, please. I’ll come to see you to talk after half an hour.” Rafe knows that she is correct and she probably got these ideas from a psychology book she bought. God, she’s so smart. 

Rafe heads up to the punching bag in his room and starts throwing punches at it. As promised, she comes to check on him after some time. “Now that we’ve calmed down, do you want to talk about it?” Y/N inquires, bringing his hands into her smaller ones and giving his bruised knuckles a kiss. He nods at her, “Yeah, I just went to give something back to a… uh… a friend and he insisted that I still needed it. It was frustrating.” His subconscious knew the problem was deeper than that and this caused tears to threaten to spill. Rafe is quick to hide his face behind his palms. 

“Somehow I don’t believe that this is the true root of your crying. Do you think you can talk about it?”

“Uhh, no. I don’t think I truly know what I’m feeling. Can we just cuddle and think instead?”

Y/N is happy to oblige, lying down on the bed and opening her arms so he can rest his head on her chest. 

———

“No, Rafe. I have to tell Y/N. She deserves to know,” Sarah argues, making her way back into the house from the back patio. Rafe is quick to follow her. At the same time, Y/N is heading towards the same door from the bathroom. “Tell me what?” Sarah turns towards the girl, ready to tell her about Rafe’s faults. 

“Rafe is a liar and thief and violent and a drug addict. He isn’t a good person, sweetie!” 

“I may not have been a good person and I admit to being everything you’ve said but I’m trying to change. Y/N helped me realize that I need to change.”

“Ooh, like you can change. Honestly, no offense Y/N, but we both know this road to redemption act is all going to go away once you get bored of her.” 

Rafe wants to yell that it isn’t true what Sarah is saying, but he remembers the breathing exercises Y/N taught to help calm down and puts those into practice. He knows adding more anger to this argument is just going to lead toward a slippery slope of words he will regret. 

“You may believe that, but I don’t. So I’m sorry I stole the cross and melted it down. I know that it can’t bring back the artifact for Pope. But I’ve already given the money I got from it to Pope and made a donation with my own money to the church.”

“Well good for you, doing one good thing to not feel guilty and to tell Y/N you are a good person.”

“I know about all of this already. Thank you for wanting to tell me, Sarah, but I already know everything and I would like to get the rest of the information straight from Rafe, now,” Y/N interrupts the argument before it becomes never-ending. Rafe’s palms are pressed into his eyes and she knows he is trying to hide his tears. She does not allow the conversation to continue; instead, brings him upstairs and moves his hands from his face. She wipes the tears away and presses a kiss to his forehead, “You don’t have to hide your tears away from me.”

“Why can’t anyone believe I can change? What if everyone is right?”

“Don’t say that. I believe that maybe not everyone can change, but some people can change. And you are definitely a part of some people.”

“How can you say that about me with everything you’ve known about all this time?”

“Because the Rafe that I was told about would’ve ended that argument with violence. He was violent, rude, a liar, stole and relied on drugs like it was water. The one before me approached that argument with recognition of his wrongdoing. He is working on his anger, is polite, tells me the truth, always pays for me and attends NA. He is one month sober. That is how I know you have changed.”

“Nobody else believes I can.”

“I know, love. I know it hurts. But right now let’s just focus on who does believe. You and Me. Then we can use this belief to prove everyone else wrong.”

“Okay, I can do that. I love you, Y/N/N.”

“ I love you too, love.”

[thesuperiorrobin]

Potential love troups? With a twist?

Friends to lovers ~

A classic love between two best friends as they try to hide their feelings for one another afraid it might ruin their friendship. Damian is brutal when he tries to hide his feelings—and sometimes wonder why you’re still friends with him. He falls in love with you because you understand him and aren’t friends with him because of who his father is. You fall in love because he’s a kind person despite being ruthless to everyone else. But to you he won’t return the feelings, will he?

Enemies to lovers~

Another classic expects it’s between the love of two sidekicks. You two fight around the city in the middle of the night while he’s on patrol. He hates how you’re always involved in everything and you hate how he stops you from everything. Won’t be a dull moment between the two when you aren’t throwing punches at each other. Until one day something bad happens and Damian dressed as Robin gets himself into trouble that leaves him bloody and bruised. You saved and cared for him—still keeping his identity a secret. He appreciated it.

Fake relationship~

Rumors going around about Damian dating this woman whom he does not like— so to steer clear from the news headlines he asked you, his long-term friend, to be in a fake relationship to get out of it. It works, but now the headlines are about you two, so you two play along for a few more months. Everything was fake. The dates that you purposely planned to get caught. But we’re the kisses fake too?

Forced marriage~

A marriage planned by your parents and his mother. Damian’s older now and now leads the League of Assassins with the burden on his back. You aren’t important to the league — and your only purpose is to give the Al Ghuls another heir after Damian. So you stand in the shadows, behind your husband everywhere he goes. Damian Al Ghul is a brutal man outside those doors, yelling at the people below him to work harder, a brutal man on missions he’s assigned. But behind closed doors, he’s a gentleman, towards you that is. A part of him pitty’s you. You didn’t ask to be married to a man like him. But you reassured him countless times you don’t mind it. A heavyweight leaves your shoulders when he promises to keep you safe. Maybe this forced marriage won’t be bad after all.

Soulmates/Best friends to lovers

An AU of mine where both you and Damian were married 100 years ago, so in love it made everyone jealous. You two were soulmates in another life, but that life was cut short after your lives were taken away from you. Now your souls are reincarnation to today's world. The world where you too are not a couple but rather best friends. There was some sort of connection when you two met and you instantly clicked. But you both have a small feeling you two should be something more than friends. “You think we were best friends in our past lives?” “I highly doubt that…”

Secret dating!

Can go both ways! You’re dating Robin, the vigilant sidekick that rides alongside the Dark night of Gotham. Ideally, you keep it a secret. For everyone—that includes Batman himself (but he knows) for many reasons the main one being He’s afraid of losing you. Some so many people want him and Batman dead and if they found out about you, you were as good as dead too.

Or

You’re dating Damian. You two agreed on keeping it private. Paparazzi doesn’t know what boundaries are in the world and Damian wanted to protect you from them. That was his main goal—that and keeping you a secret from his family. They’re embarrassing, to say the least, and if they found out about you he would never hear the end of it. Although Alfred already knows who you are.

[riki-riks-chick]

jay smut :c

Life Saver ┃P.JS

Vamp!Jay x Turned!Reader

Jay turns y/n to keep her from dying, but was that the only reason?

cw: smut!, finger fucking, oral (fem rec), unprotected sex, vampire sex, blood mentions (biting/feeding), multiple orgasms, slight obsession, and i think that's it.

wdct: 1.7k

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Third Person POV~

You wake up in immense pain, vision blurry and ears ringing. you hear strong voices talking, and that's when you hear the words.  "You should have left her dead. why do you wanna be a hero so bad?" A strong voice rung through your ears as you opened your eyes, turning your head to face the two unfamiliar people, despite your aching head.

As soon as they heard the bed sheets rustle upon your movement, they both snapped their heads towards you. "You're awake! How do you feel!?" One of them rushed towards you, seating himself at the edge of the bed as you let your gaze fall on his platinum blonde head of hair. It framed his face perfectly. "I feel awful.." You spoke, your voice hoarse and raspy as you did. The other man in the room simply scoffed before taking his leave. 

 "Where am I?" You asked, glancing back at the kind man in front of you as he poured you a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table. "You're at my house.. You'll be staying here from now on.. Do you remember anything from when you were last awake?" He asked as you raised an inquisitive eyebrow, trying your hardest to remember your last conscious moment. 

 "Uhm.. I remember walking home after going out with my friends.. Those guys dragged me into that- wait.. what happened to me, and how did you find me?" You questioned as the man laughed nervously. "I saved your life..  It's a long story, really." He said as you shot up, immediately regretting the decision as your vision went blurry. "Steady.. The affects haven't worn off yet.. It's best to lay down for now.. Drink some water.."

You took a sip of water before laying back down. The second your head hit the cool silk pillow case, you felt somewhat at ease. "What's wrong with me? What affects are you talking about?" You asked as he sighed. "Promise not to freak out?.." He asked as you nodded. 

"I didn't want you to just die like that.. You looked so innocent, and... I may have turned you into vampire to keep you alive.." He explained as you stared at him, completely and utterly shocked. "I- I'm a vampire?" You stuttered out, and he nodded. "Yes, but it's hardly been long enough for the urges to kick in. Once you're okay to stand we can go through with your first feeding."

 "I'm a vampire!?" You repeated as he sighed. "Yes, but it's fine.. It's not much different from being human.. You're just immortal and have an undying thirst for human blood." He responded in a failed attempt to ease your mind, but you were still processing. "I'm a monster..."

 "Okay ouch.. We're not all monsters.. We live just like anyone else.. We didn't ask for this.." He said as you sighed. "Sorry..." You mumbled as he nodded. "It's whatever.. Get some rest and I'll check on you later.."

The second he left, the pulsing pain returned, making you wince. You couldn't even wrap your head around how much of a fucked up situation you were in. Eventually you fell back asleep, that way you wouldn't be distracted by the pain.

A few hours later, you were awaken by the same man as before. He was dressed differently this time, the dark clothing a stalking contrast against the white and gold face of the room.

He looked handsome, something you had hardly noticed before, and the sight of him seemed to ease your mind. "How are you feeling?.." He asked gently, his hand trailing your torso, it felt electrifying.

"I feel thirsty..." You explain simply, but he seems to understand perfectly. "I don't know if you're strong enough for your first feed, but you can feed off of me.." 

"What?..." You sound hesitant, but he brushes your hair out of your face, shushing you. "Don't worry... Every human has tasted blood before.. Just think of it as licking a bleeding cut.."

He then bites his wrist, his fangs stained crimson as he pulls you to sit up, letting you get your fill off of him. He runs his fingers through your hair in the process, easing you through it as you eventually pull away, your lips stained red, and your fangs peeking out curiously, the tips matching the same red color of your lips.

You seem to feel much better after your first feeding, but the glint in his eyes shows pure hunger. He leans in, capturing your lips with his own as he clears your lips of the crimson hue painting them. 

He pulls back, eyes glowing red as he smiles seductively. "I'm Jay..." He introduces before kissing you again, this time straddling you. His hands are planted on either side of you, hips meeting yours as you slide your hands up and over his shoulders, tugging him closer.

Something about him is simply impossible to resist, even the headache from earlier went away the second he got close. "Is this okay?.." He asks, his eyes almost begging you to say yes, and when you nod, he's sitting up, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. You help him, sliding it off of his toned shoulders as you undo his pants as well,  

He stares at you, in a daze almost as he watches you undo his pants, sliding them just barely past his hips before palming him through his boxers. He allows you to touch him for a bit before he grows too impatient, pushing your hand away before kicking off his pants completely. 

He then tugs at your shorts, tugging them off of you along with your silk panties, letting them litter the floor with the rest of his clothes. "You're really pretty... I have to say..." He whispers, running his finger over your hole as he spreads your folds. "So wet.. Good." He smirks, sliding a finger into you as a means of teasing. 

It's only one, and it's not that deep, but fuck it feels good. It's unbelievable how good he's making you feel off of one finger, and once he adds a second you can't even focus. 

"Holy fuck..." You grab his hand, moaning as he grasps your wrist, moving your hand. "Does it feel good?.." He asks, despite need of an answer. You nod, biting your lip as you tilt your head back against the pillows.

Jay pulls his fingers out of you, leaning down to kiss you again as he removes his boxers. "You know... I couldn't bring myself to leave you when I saw you like that.. I got this feeling, and it made me crave you.. Not in a vampiric way though."

You're hearing every word he says, but you can't seem to focus. He presses his tip against you, rubbing his cockhead along your glistening folds. "Can I? Please?.." He asks as you nods, moaning as he slowly pushes into you, filling you up completely.

He doesn't wait to move, his hips making slow efforts as he thrusts into you. His cock is deep inside you and you're seeing stars already.

You don't know if it has anything to do with the fact that your senses are now heightened, but you feel so much more sensitive than before.

"Jay..." You moan his name, feeling your stomach turn pleasurably with each thrust. His cockhead creates a bulge in your lower abdomen with each thrust, and he presses down on it, making everything feel ten times better. "Fuck.."

You feel like you've already experienced an orgasm, but you know for sure you haven't. Everything just seems so much better with him right now.

"If you feel like you need to cum, just let go... Trust me it won't be the last." He mutters lowly, thrusting harder as he slides his hand underneath your shirt, groping your breast. "Fuck Jay.." You grip his wrist, growing closer to your release with each burning touch. "I'm gonna cum.."

He smiles at your words, his hips seeming to increase the speed of their movements. "Cum for me, princess.. Let it all go."

His words seem to send you over the edge as a bout of pleasure blooms in the pit of your stomach. He's now leading you through the best orgasm, hips still moving fiercly against yours as you moan extremely loud.

He fucks you through your orgasm, wanting to push you over the edge even more. You feel incredible. Words getting mixed up, and just overall incoherent.

It's not long before he's coming undone too, thrusting hard, but slower as he cums inside you, filling you with his essence. "Stop clenching around me, fuck.."

He pulls out slowly, watching his white substance spill out of you as he runs his fingers through it, sucking them clean afterwards. "What a pretty little mess."

You're simply watching his every move, already feeling fucked out.

He lowers himself between your legs, licking your cunt from bottom to top as he sucks on your clit, lapping up the mess of cum between your legs.

You squirm beneath him, letting out little whines and whimpers as you tug on his hair. "Jay... Please.." The pleasure is intense and Jay knows it, he's obsessed with the way he's making you feel right now.

"You taste so good, princess..." He's breathing needily against your pussy, licking into it as he slides his fingers into your hole, moving them in and out at a fast pace while focusing his tongue on your clit.

You feel the all too familiar feeling build up inside you again as he continues to eat at your dripping cunt, his fingers fucking into you slightly faster with every passing minute.

You give no warning as you cum, but he's fully prepared for it, lapping up every fluid you let out for him.

When he finally pulls away, chin glistening with your liquids, he pulls his fingers out of you, sticking them into your mouth to make you taste yourself.

You moan around his fingers, gripping his wrist as he smirks down at you. After a short while, he pulls his hand away, leaning in to kiss you. His cock is pressed against you, fully erect and ready to fuck you again. "I hope you enjoy tonight because I want to be like this for the rest of eternity..."

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I hope this was good 🫣