#but i kind of wish we could try again and i forgive them and we talk it out

[bisaster-energy]

literally don't listen to the oh hellos valley album if thinking about sam winchester makes u feel anything because those songs are so fucking samcoded it'll tear ur heart out

[artanogon]

hi (i miss you) sorry for how things happened (i miss you) i hope you’re still well and life has treated you okay (i miss you) we both screwed up but i understand why it happened (i miss you) and things are still complicated (i miss you) but i think about you a lot (i miss you) you were my best friend (i miss you) you don’t have to reply i just wanted you to hear the words (i miss you) (i wish you would reply) (could we try again?) (one more time?) (please?)

[monamipencil]

— choking hazard | h.js

⋆ pairings; joshua x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, fluff, humor, friends to lovers (?) ⋆ w.c; 3.7k+ ⋆ warnings; intoxication (liquor), mention of walking in on chan, josh is lovingly annoying, big dick! josh, tipsy sex, oral (m. receiving), face-fucking, unprotected sex (she's on pills), reader can be picked up, rough sex, creampie ⋆ a/n; im thankful for @nonuify, @chwepen, @okiedokrie and @whipped-for-kpop-fics for collectively losing it with me while talking about big dick! josh. without them, this wouldn't have been posted lol. xoxo, enjoy <3

“i don't believe a single shit that you just spewed.”

you scoff at your close friend seated on the camping chair adjacent to yours.

“hey, i'm just saying the truth.” Joshua defends himself with a shrug. his smile looks almost angelic under the glistening cascades of moonlight and the dying campfire.

almost is the key word. because there's a glint of something else lurking underneath his dilated pupils. he takes a sip from the canned beer, and a few drops trickle down his chin. he wipes it off with his sleeve.

“your dick is a choking hazard? and a girl you slept with, told her friends that?”

“yep, that's right.” he hides his smirk behind the beer can. it seems that the liquor in your system is doing tricks on you as you watch his eyes dip down to the exposed skin of your collarbones.

you can’t help but laugh at his affirmation. your cheeks puff up, and your eyes crinkle as you do so. Joshua loves your laughter, and it makes him laugh as well. but he can only tongue his cheek now, watching you keel over with laughter. 

“i’m sorry, Josh. that’s the most out-of-pocket shit someone could say.” you take a breather and try to calm down. “how did we land on the topic of cock, again?” 

it’s almost midnight. most of your friends have fallen asleep or are in their tents, scrolling through their phones. which leaves you and Joshua outside, watching the fire trickle down to embers and drinking the last cans of beer till you both pass out. 

but somehow, the conversation has changed lanes to your friend’s diabolical cock size. 

“because you told me that you walked in on Chan jerking off and didn’t expect him to be ‘oh so huge!’” he mimics your voice, and you slap his shoulder while he laughs. 

“well, i still don’t believe you. so,” you blow a raspberry at him and turn away to look at the sky. you are barely tipsy but feel light-headed because of the long hike and how spent your body is. the last thing you want on your mind is Joshua’s cock. 

but it’s safe to say that you’re intrigued. 

“you don’t have to,” his voice echoes with a strum of his guitar. he must’ve picked it up again. but you don’t look at him. especially not with the way you’re all hot and bothered right now. 

“you just have to see it.” you choke on your saliva and make the mistake of turning your head. he has shifted closer to you, his hair tickles your cheeks, and you see his eyes trained on your lips. 

“calm down, player.” you huff and back off. but it’s you who needs to calm down. joshua appears very calm and collected with his sweet smile and shit. but you’re not buying any of that. 

“player?” his voice raises a pitch before he chuckles with a husky timbre. and his low voice sends shivers down your spine straight to your core. you tighten your thighs and wish that he doesn't notice it. 

“hey, it's not my fault people mistake my kindness for something more.”

“kindness? oh forgive me for not knowing that making out with every girl is an act of kindness.” 

“you sound like you’re jealous.” 

he whispers into your ear. and you notice his closeness only now. his knee presses into yours as he manspreads, and he leans into your frame. the smell of beer and his signature scent hits your nose, forcing you to take a deep breath of fresh air. 

in your moment of silence, Joshua confirms his answer. “so you are jealous.” 

you don’t answer and shift in your chair, trying not to cast your gaze on his thighs. or, more specifically, his cock. which you’re pretty sure would be visible against the tightness of his pants. 

“uhh, i’m going to hit the bed. you should too.” that’s all you offer while walking away as fast as possible.

the path to your cabin is short, and you sigh, feeling stupid. obviously, he’s just playing. you’d have a hard time listing the girls he has not kissed because of the lack of them. maybe dares don’t count, but it’s still a blasphemous amount. 

entering the cabin, you immediately take off your counselor shirt and toss it on your bed. you go through your bag, trying to find a sweatshirt you could wear.  

“woah, no bra?” 

you yelp in surprise and cover yourself with your hands. you don’t need to turn around to figure out who that is. 

“joshua, can you not fucking knock?!” 

“calm down, this is my cabin too.” 

your heart palpitates when he closes the door and walks towards his bed, which is adjacent to yours. you scramble to wear any piece of cloth you can find and lie down on your bed as soon as possible. 

you don’t hear a single sound from his side, so you turn in the bed to look at him. which adds to your fluster as you find him already looking at you. he doesn’t utter a word, continuing to look at you. you hold eye contact, mesmerized by the deep brown of his eyes. 

“what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. 

“just curious,” he shakes his head, eyes still gazing deep into yours. 

“about?” 

“how you’d look, trying to take my cock in.”

your mouth runs dry and you lick your lips, still not breaking eye contact. a fuzzy warm feeling pools in your stomach and your hard nipples graze against the material of your shirt. you sit up, done with this game of push and pull. 

he follows suit, watching you walk towards him. you offer him no words and kneel on the floor while looking up at him. joshua sucks in a sharp breath, trying to contain himself. his finger grazes against your cheekbones, softly pushing back stray hairs. 

he groans when you press your palm against his boner. he leans back, observing you with a lazy smile. you try not to vocalize your surprise when you confirm that Joshua is not lying. the sheer outline of his cock intimidates you. your nails dig into his thighs, and he snickers at you. 

“scared, honey?” his voice is saccharine, and he looks at you with such adoration. but you know, behind that sweet mask lies something better left undisturbed. 

and you’re treading on the very line that will disturb it. but it doesn’t scare you. it excites you. somehow, the thought of Joshua breaking his demeanor fills your veins with adrenaline. 

more excited than scared. the response lies on the tip of your tongue, and you want to say it. the little liquor in your system gives you a confidence boost. you hook your finger under the waistband of his briefs and pull it down with one smooth pull. 

his cock springs free, and you’re rendered speechless for a second. Joshua’s cock is long and girthy. his pretty pink tip oozes with pearls of precum, and he’s well-groomed. you never thought you’d describe a dick as pretty, but here you are.

you finally find the courage to wrap your hand around his length. you bite your lip, squeezing his cock that lays heavy on your hand. he shudders and sighs at your touch. you lean forward and lick the precum off his tip. 

“fuck,” he curses, carding his hand through his hair. he sounds so hot, and it makes you envy all the girls he’s slept with before. 

you’re still hesitant to wrap your lips around his cock, and he senses it. “want some help?” he offers, and you impatiently nod. 

he chuckles, standing on his feet. you wait patiently on your knees, watching him discard his shirt. 

“you think too much, you know?”

before you can ask him what he means, he slaps his cock on your cheek. any and every thought evaporates from your brain, and you can only focus on how good it feels.

you don't say anything but stare up at him with glassy eyes and an open mouth. he laughs, and a devilish tint lurks behind his irises.

“like getting slapped by my cock?” his other hand holds your nape, and you nod eagerly. you lift your hands to rest them on his thighs and close your eyes.

he tugs your hair, forcing you to look at him. “look at me.”

he slaps his cock on your face again. and again, and again. and again till you're absolutely cock drunk, begging to have him down your throat. he slaps his cock one last time on your face. you whine, digging your nails into his thighs.

he chuckles again, cooing at you. “open your mouth.”

you obey, letting your mouth hang open for him. he teases the tip of his oozing cock by rubbing it on your lower lip. you push out your tongue, causing him to chuckle. he taps his cock on your tongue before pushing the tip in.

you hum in content and suck on his tip, swirling your tongue around it. you tease his slit, tracing it with your tongue. joshua bites his lip, and his eyebrows knit in pleasure.

“fuck,” he groans, a sound that fills your heart with pride.

“gonna go a bit deeper, yeah?” you hum around his cock, and he curses.

he pushes your head down his cock, gently. you open your mouth to accommodate him, but the ache in your jaw stops you. you make a noise, stopping him. he does, waiting for you to adjust to his girth.

his fingers caress the side of your face and your nape, causing you to shiver when he brushes a sensitive spot on your neck. his other hand gently holds back your hair. you look at him, nodding your head.

you feel the ache in your jaw lessen when he pulls out, leaving only the tip in. it's soon taken away as he fills your mouth again. he continues so at a mild pace.

you swirl your tongue around his cock, and suck in your cheeks as much as you can. he goes a bit deeper, and you gag, tears pricking your eyes. he moans shamelessly, his movements a bit lazier now.

he pulls out again, and you gasp for breath. a string of saliva connects your lips to his tip. he slaps his cock on your lip, enjoying the wet feeling and sound. it sends a shiver of pleasure to your core as well, which is now soaking.

your panties stick to your core like a second skin. you're afraid that your arousal would drip down your leg. your cunt clenches around nothing and your hard nipples graze against your shirt. the thought of him fucking you fills you with ecstasy.

with your newfound enthusiasm, you move forward, taking his tip between your lips. you maintain eye contact as you do so. you bob your head up and down, gagging at times as you do so. your nails graze the back of his thighs in a pleasurable manner.

“oh god,” he stops your movements, taking a deep breath to compose himself. his abs strain and a few veins pop up at his neck.

“just—just tap my thighs thrice if it's too much, ok?” you blink and nod at him. you relax your jaw and wait for him.

even though you prepare yourself, it still takes you by surprise. he pushes his cock inside in one go and holds your head. you gag and choke, feeling tears stream down your face and drool down your chin.

his hand grips the back of your head, and you feel him twitch in your mouth. your nose brushes against his pelvis and your lips touch the base of his cock.

he feels heavy in your mouth, and you choke on him again, more tears falling from your eyes. he pulls out with ease, and you cough and breathe as much as you can.

you look like an absolute mess right now, a heavenly mess, Joshua thinks. with tears and drool coating your face, your lips swollen, and god, the fucking way you're looking at him.

“think i'm a choking hazard, yet?”

you laugh, but it's cut off when your throat hurts. he giggles and apologizes sheepishly.

“so? should i cum inside your mouth, or?” he teases.

“fuck me, please.”

he curses under his breath, pulling you up to crash his lips against yours. you fall on his bed with him hovering over you. his lips are gentle at first, but the kiss turns deep. his tongue glides over yours, and he kisses you deeply. the ache between your legs grows as you feel his tongue slide over the places his cock was touching a few seconds ago.

his hand wraps around your neck gently, and he squeezes the side occasionally. he pulls away, gasping for air. his chest is pressed to yours, and you feel his heart hammering the way yours does.

his cock grazes against the skin of your thighs, heightening your arousal. “joshua, please fuck me, already.” you whine, nails scratching his back.

“so impatient,” he smiles, kissing your forehead.

he helps remove your shirt and groans at the sight of your hardened nipples. his hands fly to your chest to fondle and squeeze your breasts. he rolls the bud between his fingers and flicks them gently.

he glides his hand down your waist till he finds the hem of your shorts and pulls it down. you relax on his bed with a sigh. it feels so erotic to spread your legs in front of someone you deem a good friend. not to mention that you were choking on said friend's cock a few minutes ago.

you don't miss the smirk that plays on his lips as he observes your stained panties. and it makes you shy, causing you to close your legs, but he stops you. his hands resting on your inner thigh to spread your legs out.

he slowly removes the only clothing left on your body. the arousal sticks to your panty as he peels it off you. he tosses the cloth away and massages your inner thighs, slowly working up his way to your folds.

his fingers prod between your folds, rubbing them up and down and feeling the wetness of your soaking cunt. his thumb brushes your clit, and you fold your legs, bringing them closer to your chest.

he circles your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. he leans down to kiss your cunt, and lick the arousal dripping down it.

“not now,” you push his head away, way too eager to take his cock. he kisses your folds before finally pulling away. he looks up at you, smiling softly, but you don’t miss the mischief swirling in his eyes. he kisses your lips again, hands wandering down your body. 

his cock presses on your thighs, and you whimper, almost begging for him. “we don’t have condoms, though. is that fine?”

“yes, i’m on pills.” you say in a nasal tone, your own hands discovering his body. 

“and as long as you don’t have any virus, i’m fine.” you finish, looking at him dead in the eye. he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “i kiss, ok? i don’t get dirty as often.” 

“if you say so,” you sing, pulling him closer and pressing your chest to his. 

“fuck.” he whispers, slotting his lips on yours.  

he breaks the kiss and rubs your thighs. he adores you with his eyes before moving away to align himself to your entrance. he rubs his tip on your folds, and you gasp. “this is gonna hurt a bit,”

and god does it fucking hurt. you have seen guys with his length before, but the girth takes your breath away. you moan with a moan to your eyes and curl to your toes. joshua rubs your nub to distract you from the pain. his other hand strokes your thigh and stomach gently. 

when you seem accommodated enough, he pushes in further. and he does so till he’s deep inside you. it takes everything in him not to push it in one go. the wet warmth of your walls makes him lose his mind, and your clenching doesn’t help either. 

he takes a firm hold of your hips and presses his hand flat on your tummy. he feels his cock through you, and it makes him moan with a bite to his lips. he rests his hand on either side of your head. “wrap your legs around me,” you quickly obey. 

who knew you’d become such a mindless slut for Joshua’s cock? and who could even blame you? his cock stretches your walls with a delicious pain. and you can’t help but clench around him, sucking him in further and further. your hole flutters around his cock, and you’re more than pleased to see the effect you have on him. 

you play with your nipples as he prepares to pull away. he looks at your hands before slapping them away, “tch, bad girl.” 

he pulls out, except for his tip, and you immediately feel empty. he guides his cock inside you again, and you moan when he stretches you out again. he sighs before pulling out again. this time, he snaps his hips to yours in a quick motion. 

he pauses to observe your reaction. “fuck!” you yell, your abdomen fluttering with the deep breaths you take. he takes it as a sign to continue. he snaps his hips again with a vigor he hasn’t shown previously. his moans sync with yours as he continues to thrust in and out of your cunt.

your hands fly to wrap around his strong shoulders as the bed beneath you trembles with his thrusts. his cock drives into your cunt, filling you to the brim. but he’s careful to not hurt you, ending up using only half of his length. 

he undoes your legs around him and shifts to stand on the floor. he pulls you with him, and you yelp. “shh, don’t want them to find out what we’re doing, do you?” he places his forefinger on your lips and caresses your cheek. 

“don’t care,” you whisper, and it takes him by surprise. the change in your behavior fuels him to only fuck you harder. he grips your hips, using them to maneuver your movements. he eases in, filling you entirely, and pulls out, only to slam his cock back in. 

“fuck, see that?” he asks, interrupting your moans and whines. you lift your head, looking at his cock stretch you out. but that’s not what he’s talking about. he slams back in, and you see a bulge in your stomach. you gasp, your walls fluttering at the sight of the bulge. 

joshua fucks you harder, focusing his eyes on the bulge, and your clenching drives him over the edge. he looks up to find you focusing on the bulge as well. one of his hands finds your face, squeezing your cheeks together. 

he leans in, kissing your puckered lips harshly. his thrust only turns rougher with each passing second. the sound of skin slapping, your whimpers mixed in with his moans, and the distinct creak of the bed serve as a drug for Joshua. he picks you up, and you wrap your arms and legs around him in instinct.

you cling to him as he fucks you in the air. you don’t even have time to be impressed by his strength because his cock occupies every space in your mind. his cock screws into your cunt, harder and harder each time. you whine, nails digging into his shoulders. 

his thrusts turn erratic, hips stuttering desperately to meet yours. he gasps, and his cock twitches with the need to release. fuck, he needs to come inside you. the mere idea of it drives him to fuck you with more strength. 

your moans get louder, surely to catch the attention of bypassers outside the cabin. his gasps and moans make you look at him. his head is thrown back, and he fucks you mindlessly. his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, and you’re overcome with the need to mark it. a sheen of sweat coats his body, and the light shimmers off it, making him look heavenly. 

he pulls you closer, pressing his chest to yours. he shifts one of his hands to hold your weight, grabbing your ass, and the other wraps around your upper back. you grind your hips, chasing some friction. he groans, tongue darting out to meet yours. 

you eagerly welcome his tongue, tilting your head to kiss him deeply. your moans are swallowed by him, and both his hands now grip your ass. he kneads them in his hands, fucking you faster each time you clench around him. 

“fuck! fuck!” he curses, hips stuttering to meet yours. your toes curl, and you scratch his back, biting his shoulder to quiet down your screams. you clench around him one last time and climax on his cock. 

with a final thrust, he succumbs to his pleasure, releasing his load inside of you. you moan in unison, and he rushes to place you on the bed. he falls on top of you, cock still planted deep inside your cunt. he twitches, releasing the last of his load inside of you. 

he doesn’t pull out, opting to stay inside you as he rests his forehead on yours. your legs tremble, and you take frequent breaths to calm down from the high.

“believe me, now?” your eyes are closed, but you can feel his smirk. you kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to hear his bragging.

with a kiss on your forehead, he pulls out. you hiss, your cunt feels empty, and you almost whine for him to put it back in. he falls to your side on the bed. you both lay breathless and stare up at the ceiling.

your legs and your core feel sore. a sigh leaves your lips, knowing you can't walk tomorrow without looking like a duckling.

“i'm calling in sick, tomorrow.” you inform your—what is he to you now, anyway?

his hand caresses your legs and sides as he cuddles up next to you. you snuggle into his warmth, slumber filling your veins.

“that bad?” you're too tired to retort his teasing.

“yeah. turns out your cock isn't just a choking hazard, it's also a health hazard.”

his laughter echoes through the walls of your cabin, and he hugs you tighter. you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag @nurihihi (send an ask to be on the taglist!)

[fish-and-forbear]

Really just hope things will be okay. I know they will be, I know I have always done all I could with the information and means I had but.

Hindsight is 20/20 I suppose.

Just need to learn to forgive myself and move on, with many many things

- Fisher

[punkshort]

In Another Life | Part III

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: It's your last day together with Marcus and you're going to make it count.

Chapter Warnings: language, SO much angst, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food consumption, time travel?

WC: 6.3K

A/N: thank you @txtattoostark for beta'ing ❤️

Series Masterlist

Time stood still when you looked at your phone the following morning, you were certain of it.

The mighty General shall be out of your hair b4 you know it.

The words left a pit in your stomach, making you feel sick. How didn't you think this through? What happened between you was fast, sure, but not one time the night before did you pause to think how hurt you were going to be when Marcus left.

It wasn't like he was going to a different state or country. He would be gone for good. Never again would you know the feel of his lips or hear the deep rumble of his voice.

"Good morning," Marcus said from behind you, slipping his arms around your waist while you cooked eggs for breakfast. You flipped your phone over and turned around in his arms, pressing a firm kiss to his lips that lingered to the point where the eggs burned a little, but it was worth it.

You hadn't checked your phone until he went to the bathroom to wash up and you had breakfast underway, but you had already decided not to tell him. If you didn't speak it into existence, then maybe it wasn't real.

"Good morning," you said shyly, giving him one last quick peck on the lips before scooping eggs and sausage onto plates for you both.

"Was your superior quite angry with you?" he asked while he attempted to help you with the toast but ended up burning his fingertips.

You shook your head and picked up both plates to take to your small kitchen table.

"Nah, I never call in sick," you told him with a smile. "Besides the park, what did you want to see today?"

He settled next to you at the table, one hand dropping casually to rest on your leg while he picked up his fork with the other. "To me it does not matter, so long as it is with you."

You grinned and felt your cheeks warm. "You know, you said you didn't have much experience with romance in your life but you could have fooled me. Every word you say is romantic."

He chuckled and dropped his gaze to his plate, feeling a bit shy. "Does simply wishing to spend time with a lover make one a romantic?"

You shrugged and nodded. "Kind of. At least, in my experience."

Marcus hummed and leaned over to press a kiss against your temple. "We must change that, my lady."

"Oh, yeah?" you replied, turning to lock your lips with his. His grip on your thigh tightened when he heard the little noise escape from the back of your throat and you squirmed in your seat. "Well, you've changed a lot, already," you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He grinned and leaned forward to chase your lips, making you giggle and toss your arms around his neck.

Before you even had a chance to register the noise, the front door unlocked and swung open.

"Morning! Why are you still - oh, gross," Danny said when he turned from closing the door and saw the two of you intertwined.

Marcus withdrew his arms from around you and stood solemnly with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Daniel, I apologize," he said, his voice deep. "Courtesy demands I request permission from a lady's father, or in this case, closest living male relative, before pursuing her. I hope you can forgive me for my transgression." Marcus bowed his head and you quickly stood up, waving your hands in between them.

"No, no, no, you do not need my little brother's permission, Marcus," you told him. Danny folded his arms together and stifled a laugh.

"I don't know, Sis, I think he's onto something. Maybe if more guys went through me, you wouldn't be left on read so much."

"Shut up, Danny!" you seethed, fists clenched at your sides.

Marcus just looked back and forth between you, trying to keep up.

"I'm just kidding! Marcus, it's totally fine," Danny said, clapping him on the shoulder before slipping into the kitchen for your leftovers. "If you really want to spend your last day in the twentieth century with my sister, don't let me stop you. I mean, personally, I would have picked the girl who works at the Java Hut, or maybe the one at the comic book store..."

Both of you tuned him out when Marcus absorbed what he said.

"My... last day?" he questioned. You swallowed and nodded.

"He texted me last night but I didn't see it til you were in the shower," you said quietly, gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you."

"Oh," he said softly, eyebrows pinching together in thought. And just like that, the fun, playful mood between the two of you vanished only to be replaced with despair.

"We can still do exactly what we said we would do," you assured him while Danny kept talking to himself in the kitchen, adding to the long list of people he would rather spend his last day with other than you.

"Of course," Marcus replied, but you could see the distant look in his eye. It was probably the same one you had when you first read Danny's text.

"Let's just... enjoy what time we have left."

He nodded and inhaled sharply, avoiding your eye while he processed everything he had just learned, both of you too nervous to say what you really wanted to say.

"Why aren't you working?" Danny asked, emerging from the kitchen with a piece of buttered toast.

"I called in sick."

He nodded, not even questioning it before heading to his room. "I'm gonna get some shut eye and head back over to Lizard's later. Gotta run a few diagnostic tests before we send you home, General."

His words were like taking a bullet. Appetite suddenly gone, you sunk down into your chair and tried not to let your emotions show but he must have sensed it because Marcus was sitting down next to you with one arm around your shoulders and the other on your thigh.

"We still have today, cor mea."

You sniffled and leaned into his shoulder, hiding your face against his neck. "You said that yesterday, too. What does it mean?"

You felt his lips on the top of your head before he answered.

"It means, my heart."

Tears stung your eyes so you quickly closed them, doing your very best to remember everything about that moment. The way he smelled, all fresh from his shower, the roughness of his hand against your skin, the sound of his heart beating soundly in his broad chest.

Don't go, you wanted to beg. Please stay with me. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Was it ridiculous to want a man you just met to leave everything behind and stay with you? In a world he knew nothing about? Even if you did ask and by some miracle he agreed, would you be able to make him happy? Would this world make him happy?

No, you couldn't ask that of him. He had a whole life waiting for him in Ancient Rome.

You took a deep breath and reluctantly extracted yourself from his arms.

"Okay," you said, quickly swiping at your eye. "Let's go check out the park and once we're done, we'll see what else you want to do."

He nodded, helping you clean up from breakfast while pretending not to notice how red your eyes looked, but by the time you were both ready to leave your apartment, you had collected yourself. You refused to spend your last day together wallowing in misery.

You were going to make sure it was perfect.

"This place is magnificent," Marcus said breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes away from the rich greenery surrounding you while dodging tourists laughing and posing for pictures. Nearby, bicyclists and joggers zipped by and dogs barked, pulling at their leashes to get at one another while their owners struggled to rein them in but as far as the two of you were concerned, you were the only ones there.

"C'mon, this way," you said, looping your arm with his and leading him off a different path. The smile was permanently stretched across his face the entire time, especially when you had to come to an unexpected stop so a carriage led by a massive Clydesdale could pass by on the trail.

"That horse looks double the size of the horses back home," he remarked in awe when you resumed walking.

"There's all sorts of different breeds," you explained, "we'll probably see a few more before we leave."

You could hear water trickling and you grinned when you looked up at him. "Almost there."

When you finally emerged from your shaded trail to view the massive fountain, Marcus couldn't believe his eyes. He skid to a stop and just stared in wonder at the shallow water surrounded by people eating lunch, families taking pictures, couples sitting close together and children running and playing. Slowly, his gaze drifted around the wide open space, taking in every feature, every flower, every stunning piece of architecture until you finally tugged on his elbow.

"It's called the Bethesda Fountain," you said, pointing to the statue in the middle. "It's an angel, see?"

He nodded, eyes wide with wonder. "She is... beautiful," he whispered, looking like he was in complete awe of the stone statue of the angel draped in long robes with widespread wings behind her, looking over the entire park.

"I think she's holding her arm out as a symbol to bless the waters," you told him, pulling him closer so you could read some of the signage.

"This place is wonderful," he told you, twisting around so he didn't miss a thing. "I cannot believe a place like this exists in such a busy and thriving metropolis."

"Yeah, it is really amazing, isn't it?" you replied. You had lived in New York for so long that you realized you had grown numb to some of its wonder, but seeing it through Marcus's eyes felt like you were seeing it for the first time again.

"You are fortunate to live here," he said, finally looking down at you. "I have never seen a place so grand and spectacular in all my life."

You grinned and stretched up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Looks a lot better with you here," you said with a wink, and you swore you saw his face flush a bit.

The pair of you found an empty bench and sat down for a while. You leaned your head on his shoulder and he hooked an arm around you as you quietly watched the city pass you by.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," he murmured as he nuzzled the top of your head. You titled your face up to give him a smile.

"I think this is the most fun I've ever had in this city."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling and his one cheek creating a dimple that you found too irresistible not to kiss, so you did.

"Would you like to just spend the day here or do you want to see something else?"

He looked around the park again with a deep sigh and you could feel his body relax against you. "I am content to do anything, so long as it is with you."

You thought about it for a moment before pulling out your phone and tapping away.

"There's a museum not too far from there that has an exhibition on Ancient Rome," you said. His interest was piqued and he squinted down at your phone. "Would you be interested in that? You could teach me something," you told him with a poke to his ribs. He chuckled and shrugged.

"I fear you are too brilliant for me to teach you anything, but I am intrigued."

You giggled and stood up, hauling him to his feet as you began to lead him back the way you came.

"We can grab something quick to eat along the way."

Marcus was very quiet the first ten minutes inside the museum. He silently read the informative plaques on the walls next to replicas of gladiator helmets and broken spears with his hands clasped behind his back and his expression unreadable. He studied maps and watched a video of a historian talking about the rise of the Roman Empire playing on a loop, and all the while you followed him from room to room, reading what he read and trying to see things through his eyes.

He had a proud smile on his face when you came to a room about the technological advancements of the Roman Empire and how it impacted present day. He had just finished reading about the ways Rome impacted the design of modern day roads and bridges when he saw the next display and his smile faltered.

"What is it?" you asked him softly. His eyes flickered back and forth between a photograph of the Colosseum and an NFL stadium with a little blurb underneath comparing the two.

"You still have..." he drifted off and pointed to the stadium. "Your people still fight to the death?"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head furiously, immediately picking up on the tension in his voice.

"Oh, no. No, Marcus. They don't fight, it's a sport. Nobody dies. The stadiums are just built to look like the Colosseum."

He nodded in understanding but you saw the look on his face. Something troubled him and it made your chest ache. You glanced around the room, noticing it was mostly empty, then stepped forward so you stood between him and the display. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, drawing his attention down to you and off the photos.

"What is it?"

He gave you a sad smile and his arms circled your waist.

"There is something I have not told you."

Once again, your eyes flickered around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear before looking back up at him expectantly.

"Daniel and Victor found me because I was fleeing Rome," he said solemnly, and already you could see the shame in his face.

"Why were you fleeing?"

He pressed his lips together tightly before sighing. "I displeased the emperor. I refused to carry out his orders. Orders that would kill thousands of young men simply to make a statement. I could not do it, my love." His hands grew tighter around your middle and you swore you saw tears begin to form but he blinked them away. "As punishment, I was sentenced to become a gladiator. To fight for my life and their entertainment in the arena. So... I fled. I was a coward and I fled."

"You weren't a coward," you whispered, bringing a hand up to stroke his bearded cheek. "You would have died, Marcus. That's not cowardly."

"It was cowardly to not die an honorable death," he argued, but you shook your head.

"It's barbaric and wasteful," you told him. You felt him lean into your touch for comfort. "I'm glad you ran away. If you didn't, I never would have met you."

He couldn't resist. Marcus leaned down and captured your mouth with his, committing the feel of your lips to memory before he had to return home and face his destiny.

"C'mon," you said, stepping away from him and taking his hand in yours with a little smile. "Let's keep looking around."

He didn't let go of your hand after that. You walked together through the rest of the room, reading to yourselves about the architecture of Ancient Rome and how the buildings influenced the White House and the Lincoln Memorial when he stopped dead in his tracks and gawked at the very last photo.

"Is this..." he trailed off, reading the caption before looking at you in shock. "The arena still stands? This image looks to be present day." He pointed to the people standing around the outside of the Colosseum, specifically their clothes and how they looked similar to yours, and you nodded.

"Yeah, it's still there," you told him, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he continued to stare at the picture. "I'm sure it looks different and some of it collapsed with time but it's been maintained and well cared for. It's one of the seven wonders of the world."

He looked at you curiously and you smiled. "It's kind of a big deal," you explained simply.

His fingertips dragged over the glass like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"May we see it before I leave?"

Your face fell and sadness swelled deep in your chest. "No, Marcus, I'm sorry. It's too far away."

He nodded, catching the regret in your eye before dropping the subject and moving on. He would see it soon enough, anyway.

It seemed both of you were determined to keep the rest of your museum visit as light as possible. When you reached the area about art, he told you a story of an artist who created a beautiful portrait of him and presented it to him after winning a huge battle for Rome. With a smile, he told you how pompous he felt when he had it hung in his living space at home but he felt bad not honoring the artist's hard work.

When he excused himself to use the restroom, you sat on a bench and did something you refrained from doing since the moment you met.

You Googled his name.

The cell service was spotty and it took an extra minute, but sure enough his name pulled up some results. You picked the first one, quickly scanning down his multiple military accomplishments until you reached the end. You held your breath as you read the small paragraph, fearful of what you would find out but it was a question that had been plaguing your mind for the past two days and you needed to know.

General Marcus Acacius presumably died in 215 A.D. It was believed he met his demise in battle, however his body was never recovered.

Glancing up to make sure Marcus was still in the bathroom, you shot off a quick text to Danny.

You: What year did you set that time machine when you picked up Marcus?

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you watched your text slowly go from delivered to read, then three little dots appeared.

Danny: 215 A.D.

You closed your eyes and sniffled before tucking your phone into your pocket.

How could you go through with this now that you knew you were sending him back to certain death?

You did your damndest to not let it bother you, but it was hard. Every time you looked at him you wondered what fate had in store when he returned and the pit in your stomach just got heavier and heavier.

You arrived home to a note from Danny reminding you he had to run diagnostic tests on the machine and he wouldn't be home until late, so you both decided to stay in for dinner on your last night together. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill but you could make a decent pasta. Marcus lingered and tried to help but it was evident he was used to others cooking for him, and that was okay. You didn't mind.

When you each sat down to eat, his left hand falling easily to your leg again as he picked up his fork, you had to bite your tongue from screaming stay, please stay. By the way he was glancing in your direction throughout the meal, you had a feeling he wanted to say something, too, but either didn't know how or was too afraid to pop the bubble you had found yourselves in.

After you ate, Marcus made a move to wash the dishes but you quickly stopped him. The time you had left now was too precious to waste on things like that. You didn't say that, of course, but instead you wrapped his arm around you so you could burrow into his chest. Neither of you said a word. You didn't need to. You could both feel each minute ticking away, bringing you closer and closer to morning. You closed your watery eyes and pressed your ear against his chest, listening to the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart, wishing you could somehow bottle it so you could listen to it when he was long gone and you were all alone.

You wished you knew what to say to make it easier, but you couldn't think of a single thing. You tried to put into words how he made you feel without sounding like a complete psychopath, but you came up empty. So you continued to stand quietly in your kitchen, holding one another close, breathing each other in and trying to savor every single second you had together.

He whispered your name so you forced your eyes open and looked up. His eyes were also shiny with unshed tears and that was all it took for your face to crumple and tears to flow freely down your cheeks. He quickly cupped the back of your head and feverishly pressed his lips against yours as his own tears began to fall. How would you be able to get up and make breakfast in that kitchen without thinking of him? How would you be able to ever wash your sheets for fear of losing his scent? Christ, how on earth would you be able to write that month's article without being institutionalized?

"Marcus," you sobbed before locking your lips together again. It was the desperation in your voice that made him bend his knees, grab the backs of your thighs and wrap your legs around his middle so he could walk you both to your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

With all the care in the world, he delicately removed your clothes until your naked bodies were tangled together in bed, hands roaming over each other's skin as if you were trying to draw a map.

"Do not cry, my sweet girl," he whispered while hooking one of your legs over his forearm. He tipped his head down for just a moment so he could line himself up with your center before focusing back on you. His thumb wiped the tears from your cheek and he gave you a sad smile. "It would be a waste to spend what time we have left crying."

You nodded and took a few deep breaths before wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss right as he sunk himself inside you. He groaned into your mouth and his grip around your leg tightened until his hips became flush with yours.

"Please, allow me to see you, cor mea," he murmured, and you hadn't even realized your eyes squeezed shut. You opened them and stared up at him looking at you like you were his only salvation. The words crawled up your throat and slid down to the tip of your tongue, begging to be said, but you swallowed them back down.

It was too fast. It was all too fast and you didn't have the luxury of time to figure it out. But what you did have was him, in that very moment, and you refused to waste it.

You bucked your hips up slightly, giving him the green light to move, so he did. He went slow. He took his time dragging the heavy length of him in and out while his mouth never left your skin. If he wasn't kissing your lips then he was kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulders - anywhere he could reach, he left his mark. It was the type of mark that burned your skin and settled deep below the surface, flowing through your veins and directly into your soul. The kind of mark that made you want to say something your brain thought was incredibly foolish but your heart was screaming otherwise.

To distract yourself from your thoughts, you wrapped your arms and legs around him and tilted to your side. He understood what you wanted and rolled the both of you over so you were on top, gasping for air. The new position had him reaching a spot that made you see stars and you needed to take a moment to collect yourself before you began to move.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, tilting your head back towards the ceiling and shifting your hips ever so slightly. Marcus grinned up at you, his big hands sliding up your thighs to settle on your hips.

"You are so beautiful like this," he told you softly. You dropped your chin back down to look at him, your entire being vibrating with adoration. "You fit around me so perfectly, my love. Do you feel that?" he asked when his cock pulsed inside of you. Your jaw dropped and you nodded. "That is what you do to me. You make me harder than I ever thought imaginable, yet your beautiful body takes me so well."

The praise made your chest warm. You began to roll your hips slowly, savoring every inch of him inside you with your hands braced on his broad shoulders for support when Marcus groaned and leaned forward to catch your breast in his mouth. The feel of his prickly beard against your skin combined with the way he flicked his tongue over your nipple made your back arch and your face pinch with pleasure.

Without warning, Marcus sat up and wrapped one arm around your waist while the other braced himself on the mattress so he could rock his hips in rhythm with yours. Your mouths hovered over each other as you began to move a little faster, your gasps and pants mingling together in the otherwise quiet room.

You could feel the familiar crest building deep inside you and you tried to fight it. Marcus, ever attentive, quickly figured it out and frowned.

"Let go, my sweet," he ordered, but you shook your head.

"I don't want it to end," you whimpered, forehead falling to rest on his shoulder. His arm squeezed around you tighter and his jaw clenched, desperately trying to hold off until you found your release first.

"I plan on taking you as many times as you will allow tonight," he said, lips brushing against your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. "Please, let go," he urged, grinding his hips up against you. "My only wish is to take care of you."

Your heart rattled in its cage at his words, your body growing weak and melting into his hold, giving into his request far too easily. With a raspy moan that resembled his name, you reached your climax, body shuddering in his lap while he whispered words of encouragement in your ear.

When he felt you relax, he groaned and started to move faster, your slick coating his length more and more with each deep thrust. You tilted your face from your spot on his shoulder to find his lips, your tongue plunging languidly into his mouth while he continued to fuck up into you. You had never felt so at peace than in that moment with Marcus. His presence was everywhere; his arms were wrapped tightly around your middle, pressing your sweaty chests together so close, you could feel his heart beating in time with yours. His spend, thick and sticky, was leaking out of you and down his shaft after he came. He was so warm and strong and powerful that it had your head spinning and your heart aching for more. And that is exactly what he gave you.

Marcus spent the rest of the night worshipping you. He cleaned you in the shower only to make a mess of you half an hour later. He massaged your hips and legs when they grew too shaky and weak. He held you close, lovingly stroking your hair when you needed a break. And when you finally couldn't keep your eyes open any longer, he wrapped you up in his arms and let you fall asleep on his chest, perfectly calm and content for the last time.

But it wasn't enough.

"Are you alright?"

You kept your eyes squeezed shut and you shook your head. Marcus sighed from his place next to your bed and bent down to tilt your chin up, unearthing your face from your pillow.

"Please look at me," he pleaded. You couldn't deny him anything, but especially so given you only had a few hours left, so you opened your eyes and gazed at him mournfully. He gave you a small smile and lovingly stroked your cheek.

"I will never forget this for as long as I live. You have given me something I never felt worthy of," he said softly. Tears instantly stung your eyes and your lip began to quiver.

"Don't," you whispered thickly. His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and he eagerly leaned forward.

"What?" he whispered. "Do not what?"

Don't go, don't go, don't go.

You were going to say it. You were going to be selfish and beg him not to go, to stay with you because now that you've had him, you can't imagine a life without him. And you fucking swore by the way he was looking at you that he might actually stay.

With your heart pounding nervously in your chest, you reached out for his hand and opened your mouth just to be interrupted by a sharp knock on your bedroom door.

"You guys in there?" Danny called through the wood. "We're all ready to go here. Lizard's waiting in a tow away zone out front, we gotta jet."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to get up, not catching the disappointed look on Marcus's face. You probably looked like shit, your hair was a mess and you hardly got enough sleep, but you didn't care. You tugged on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood over your head before taking Marcus's hand and opening the door. Danny was waiting, leaning against the wall looking at his phone, when you emerged.

"Fun night?" he asked with a wink. You shoved his shoulder and pulled Marcus down the hallway towards your front door, only pausing to grab his weapons and the clothes he arrived in.

"Did you call into work again?" Danny asked just to cut the unbearable silence that filled Lizard's fifteen year old shitty sedan. You nodded and continued to solemnly stare out the window. Marcus took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze but you were finding it difficult to look at him because if you did, you were certain you would burst into tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeated to yourself when you pulled up to the familiar split level, faded green home Lizard grew up in. You took Marcus's hand as you walked behind Danny and Lizard, each heavy step bringing you closer and closer to heartbreak.

"We'll distract his mom, you sneak Marcus down to the basement," Danny told you. You nodded and stared down at the ground, your unusual silence giving your brother pause before he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and turned back around.

"Hey, Mrs. Delio! We're back!" Danny called extra loudly into the house. You quietly snuck in after them while they hurried to the kitchen to stop her from stepping out and seeing you before you could sneak downstairs.

"Are we in a dungeon?" Marcus asked when you turned on the light and he saw the concrete walls and floors with only one small window in the corner of the room. You were about to explain it to him when you spotted the time machine in all it's glory, sitting proudly next to the washer and dryer, and you froze. Marcus felt you stiffen next to him and he turned around only to sadly drop his gaze when he noticed what caught your attention. He twisted your body towards him and took you by both shoulders before taking a deep breath and looking you dead in the eye.

"My love-" he began softly, but then Danny and Lizard came rushing down the stairs. You sniffled and looked away so they wouldn't see how emotional you were, but Marcus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to him.

"We're all set! She's heading out in a few to play bridge, she won't even notice we're gone til we're back," Lizard said as he began to power up the time machine, completely oblivious. You swallowed thickly, eyes still glued to Marcus and heart thumping so fast that you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

"You ready, big guy?" Lizard asked excitedly as he opened the door and peeked inside the tiny vessel. Danny cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Give 'em a minute," he said quietly, and for the first time all week you felt thankful for your little brother. Lizard turned around, his eyes bouncing back and forth between you two until it dawned on him. He nodded before taking a few steps away to pretend to look at something on his computer with Danny in order to give you a little privacy.

"My love," Marcus began again, holding both your hands tightly in his. "It is difficult to put into words how I feel," he said, taking in a shaky breath. "I wish I were able to show you, but I do not have any talents. If I were a poet, I would write sonnets of your eyes. If I were a musician, I would write ballads of your laughter. If I could create art, I would sculpt and paint for hours to capture the essence of your beauty. But I am just a man, and my foolish words will have to suffice."

Fat, hot tears began to unabashedly roll down your cheeks and your eyebrows pinched together as you tried to memorize every single second before it was gone.

One tear fell from the corner of his eye and he gave you a sad smile. "I have never felt like this before-" he said, but you stopped him, unable to hold back any longer.

"I love you," you sobbed, not even noticing the way Danny's head snapped to look at you in surprise. "I know it's fast and stupid but I love you and I'm sorry but I couldn't let you go without telling you."

Marcus grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you in for a deep, breathtaking kiss. Both your lips were trembling and your tears were mixing together on your cheeks but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment.

He pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours before whispering, "And I love you, cor mea. You are my sanctuary. I wish to spend the rest of my days cherishing you and making you happy."

"Then stay," you begged, the words finally slipping past your lips with such earnest desperation, your voice cracked. "Please. Stay with me. Please-"

He pulled you in for another urgent kiss but this time, he wrapped both arms around you and pinned you tightly to his chest, pouring every ounce of emotion he had into it.

"Are- are you certain?" he stammered when he finally released your swollen lips. You gazed up at him with bleary eyes and nodded with a wide smile. You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your hand, which was pressed firmly against his chest, and he broke out in a huge grin.

"They couldn't have this conversation before I got a parking ticket this morning?" Lizard muttered to Danny under his breath, but Danny just elbowed him in the side, unable to look away from the two of you with a big smile of his own.

"I never thought I would feel happiness such as this," Marcus whispered in your ear, tears falling freely from both of you but for an entirely different reason now. You giggled into his neck, tugging him even closer, afraid to let him go even though he agreed to stay.

Danny clapped his hands, breaking the two of you up but Marcus still held you protectively against his side and you kept one arm wrapped around his waist when you turned to face your brother.

"So, no time travel today?" he asked, cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

"There is nothing left for me there," Marcus announced, the dread of being a disgraced man on the run or a gladiator becoming a distant memory. "Everything I ever wanted is right here. I apologize to you both for any additional work this has caused."

"No apology necessary," Danny said, squeezing Marcus on the shoulder good-naturedly. Lizard cleared his throat and took a few steps forward. You narrowed your eyes when you saw he was about to speak and quickly cut him off.

"I'll pay for the goddamn parking ticket, Lizard!"

He smiled at you sweetly, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. "So happy for you both, by the way."

You rolled your eyes and looked back up at Marcus.

"Do you want to go home?"

He smiled down at you warmly, his eyes dancing with adoration and happiness before bending forward to brush his lips tenderly over yours.

"Yes, my love. Let us go home."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[ohisms]

↪ 𝑽𝑨𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑳𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮 . ( a collection of sentence starters from the 2004 film . adjust phrasing as necessary . mature themes present . )

oh , [ name ] . it's just you .

where are you going to run , [ name ] ?

what are you saying ?

why do you think i brought you here ?

you said you believed in my work .

i would kill myself before helping in such a task .

you've been so kind to me , [ name ] .

you can't kill me , [ name ] .

so , you're the great [ name ] .

we all have our little problems .

let's make it your decision , shall we ?

i wish you a week in hell .

why don't you do something about it ?

this is all a test of faith .

i can curse all i want , dammit .

you . turn around .

strangers don't last long here .

the laws of men mean little to me .

i don't need your help .

you stay here . they're trying to kill me .

nice to see you too , [ name ] .

did i do something to you in a past life ?

i hope you do have a heart , [ name ] . because someday i'd like to drive a stake through it .

your reputation precedes you .

i am hollow ! and i will live ... forever .

please , say you will not try again .

do not fear me ... everybody else fears me .

i was unprepared . it won't happen again .

do you understand forgiveness ?

i would rather die than help you .

don't be boring , everyone who says that always dies .

may he rest in peace .

how long has it been , 300 , 400 years ?

you don't remember , do you ?

what exactly is it i am to be remembering ?

it's no surprise you would know all about me .

we have such history , you and i .

have you ever wondered why you have such horrific nightmares ?

[ name ] , it's alright , i'm taking you home .

what , did you think we haven't tried everything before ?

no one knows how to kill [ name ] .

i could have used that information earlier .

would you like me to refresh your memory a little ?

allow me to ... reintroduce myself .

i think we've overstayed our welcome .

don't give me that look .

you were right . i'm sorry .

monster ? who's the monster here ? i have done nothing wrong !

look , there's still time .

you were right . i'm sorry .

do you have any family , [ name ] ?

if you value your lives , and the lives of your kin , you will kill me .

evil may have created it , may have left its mark on it , but evil does not rule it .

now you know why they call me a murderer .

oh my god ... you've been bitten .

so much trouble ... so much trouble .

now you will become that which you hunted so passionately . may others be as passionate in their hunting of you .

don't worry , god will forgive us .

how many commandments can we break in one day ?

oh my god , you should be terrified .

how does it feel to be a puppet on my string ?

neither of us has ever settled for half .

you make my skin crawl .

i'm not gonna like this , am i ?

one brief moment of pain , and we can be together forever .

you have no heartbeat .

you are nothing but damned bones , and damned souls .

well , that doesn't sound like a good thing .

we don't have a choice . just don't get killed .

you don't understand , it doesn't matter what happens to me .

god is not the only one that can create life .

you can't go until i say you can go , and i say you can go when you're dead !

you're supposed to die .

we are both part of the same great game , [ name ] , we just find ourselves on opposite sides of the board .

you are being used , [ name ] , as was i . but i escaped , so can you .

if you're going to kill someone , kill them . don't stand there talking about it .

all i want is life . the continuation of my kind .

some things are better left forgotten .

[luveline]

Hii, I absolutely love your Hotch fics in which he meets his adult daughter. Could we get one in which she is feeling down about something and he helps/reassures her?💕💕

It’s difficult to foster a relationship with someone when you don’t get to see them. Even harder when the relationship is with your father who didn’t know you existed for over two decades, and who works as a Special Agent in the FBI, spending half of his life in other states. 

Lately it feels impossible. 

He’s just never home. When he is, he can't make it to dinner. You start to feel exactly as you had before you knew him, alone again, working hard to keep up in class, drained from your part time job, and always tired. 

You should stay home and sleep, but tonight, your dad is free for dinner. 

You wait on the corner of the street in the golden light of the restaurant. It’s chilly out, and the sky is slowly darkening. You watch the road for the shape and bulk of Aaron’s SUV, relieved to see him on the way past. He parks in the parking lot, making a small stop into the trunk of the car before he makes his way toward you. 

He’s carrying a little white teddy bear wrapped in pink heart cellophane. 

You know it’s for you, but it’s still sweet enough to surprise you when he smiles at you and encourages it into your hands. “Hello,” he says, wrapping one arm around you quickly as he kisses your cheek. 

It’s always a shock, but never unwelcome. 

“Hi, Aaron.” 

“Let’s go in, yes?” he asks. “It’s too cold to stay out here. Were you waiting a long time?” 

You let him walk you to the entrance, where he gives his name to the hostess for the reservation, and together you follow her to a small table near a bay window. The trees outside are strung with tea lights. The restaurant smells like nutty chocolate ganache. You mentioned that you liked the desserts here the first time he brought you, and he’s continued to bring you here ever since. 

You are undoubtedly getting to know one another. You’ve met Haley three times, and Jack five. You had dinner together only two weeks ago where he tried to show you how to keep spaghetti on your fork while failing to manage it himself. He was sweet, and Aaron was really good with him. 

You’d been jealous. 

“What’s the bear for?” you ask. 

“I’m trying to buy your forgiveness. Is it working?” 

You laugh without thinking. “My forgiveness?” 

“Sometimes, when I don’t see Jack for a long time, he gets frosty with me. I know it’s poor parenting but I’ll bring home a souvenir in the hopes he won’t stay mad.” 

“This is a souvenir?” you ask. 

He sits with good posture, but his face is ducked apologetically. It’s a kind sort of look, like he really is sorry. “I think I owe you more than that.” 

This regret he’s expressed before. You truly believe that he wishes he could go back in time and be there for you, which might be why it aches to think about it in detail. He wanted to be the loving, doting father. He just didn’t get the chance. 

“It sort of… breaks my heart sometimes, when I see you,” you say. 

It’s a lot. You haven’t even ordered your drinks. 

“It does?” he asks gently. 

“I wish…” You bite the inside of your cheek. Shake your head when you can’t finish. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I think about it a lot. I resent your mother.” 

She’s your mother, but yes. “I do, too.” 

You listen to the clatter of the kitchen somewhere deep in the building and the indistinguishable chatter of other families and dates where they sit around you. Your hand closes tightly on a napkin. 

“Are you okay? You look tired, honey.” 

“Must be a Hotchner thing,” you say. 

He laughs like you haven’t just slighted him. “It definitely is. I’m getting the sense that you’re upset about more than your mother, though.” 

“How would you know?” you ask genuinely. 

It’s his party trick. You’re expecting a rundown: your hand moves a quarter inch to the left and shows your upset, or your nose twitches to betray your true feelings. But he doesn’t need to use his special set of agent skills on you tonight. 

“You won’t look at me for very long. It’s exactly like your brother.” 

You sniff ineffectually. “It is?” 

He looks especially solemn, then. “I wish we didn’t miss out on so much with each other, but I’m here now, if you want me. You can tell me what’s bothering you. I promise I’ll listen.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’ve always heard worse.” He manages a smile. “Not that what you’re feeling isn’t important.” 

“Well, I… it’s mostly the little things. You know school is hard.” 

“At GWU? It’s gruelling.” 

“It’s awful. I probably need a tutor.” You laugh. “Maybe. It’s not so bad, and once this year is over, I’m done, but I have my internship lined up for the summer, so I’m trying very hard to– to work as much as I can now. But working and studying all the time makes me tired.” Your cheeks heat at having spilled it all without finesse. “Sorry, I know you work twenty three hours a day.” 

“How many hours are you working a week?” he asks. 

“Uh, usually twenty-four. I try to do three shifts a week. Sometimes they want me after school, so it’s more like twenty-nine or thirty-four.” Or forty-four.

“And you’re studying–”

“Every spare minute.” 

He nods thoughtfully. “I’m sorry. It sounds hard…” 

“What?” you ask. 

“I’m just thinking about something.” He licks his lips. “And you’ve always worked? Since high school?” 

Your flush worsens. “Yeah. I have to pay for school somehow, and to eat.” You quieten. 

“What if you didn’t have to work, honey?” 

You shake your head vehemently. “Aaron.” 

“I’m serious. What if you didn’t have to do so much? You need time to do nothing. Overworking yourself will give you an ulcer, trust me, and that’s the last thing I want. I could–”

“I can’t take your money–”

“It’s not just my money. Does Jack ‘take’ my money?” 

“You signed up for Jack–”

“And I’m signed up for you. I want to be here for you, and this is what father’s do, okay? If they can, and I can.” 

“Unnecessary brag.” 

He ignores your joke. “Even if I could just pay for GWU. I know those textbooks are burning a hole in your pocket.” 

You refuse. Aaron promises to return to the subject when you aren’t exhausted, and maybe you’ll let him. It would be beautiful to wake up on a Saturday with nothing to do. 

It would be nice not to miss your dad. You’ve done it your whole life, but now he’s real, and he seems to really care about you. When he hugs you after he’s paid for dinner, you want to be allowed to cling, and, as he tightens his hold, you realise you are. 

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, rubbing your upper arm. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. 

“Can I see you tomorrow?” 

You ease back. “Really?” Because you hadn’t mentioned that you missed him, but he already knows.

He pats your arm. “You know I’d see you every day, if I could? I’ve missed out on enough already. We’ll take Jack to Olive Garden again and you can think a bit more on what I proposed.” 

“I can’t take your money,” you repeat quietly. 

“Not that, though you should. You can tell me anything, okay?” 

You breathe out as he steps away. “Okay.” 

He touches your cheek briefly. “Okay. I’m proud of you. You’re doing great.” 

“Thanks, Aaron.” 

“You’re welcome. Text me when you get home safe, all right?” 

You look at him for too long. “Thank you,” you say again, moving in for another hug. 

He props his head atop yours carefully. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

[hotpinkstars]

WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)

-> blinded mistakes - happy ending

synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?

a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm

warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!

w/c -> 951

-> kamisato ayato

it’s been a few days since the argument. 

ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.

once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.

you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.

he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.

“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.

“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”

he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form. 

he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.

“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression. 

“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”

you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”

he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”

“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”

he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in. 

“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer. 

he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

-> wriothesley

it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident. 

he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.

“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”

he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”

she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom. 

you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening. 

“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.

“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”

you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?” 

he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly. 

“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”

you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie. 

“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.

“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”

[wososcripts]

Face to Face (IV)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: An attempt to make amends.

A/N: we're nearing the end!! not sure how I feel about this part... hopefully it's okay

Word Count: 3k

Warnings ⚠️: none?

PREVIOUS PART

The next few days followed in a similar manner. Alexia brought you to the pitch even though you couldn't play, and you sat there for a few hours until they were done. Occasionally Jona would come over to see you, or Olga would stop by with food. Ana Maria even drove over from Madrid to see you and take you out for the day. But mostly you slept, listened to podcasts, and thought about what the hell you were going to do about Frido.

She still hadn't spoken to you and the team was starting to notice. It's not like the two of you were very close before (at least publicly) but now it was a conscious avoidance. The rest of the girls often kept you company when they could on breaks or in between drills.

It was only after five days, on Friday afternoon, that she approached you.

“Hi…” Frido said softly.

You looked up at her from where you sat on the pitch. You had been doing light stretches on your calves, still not allowed to do anything strenuous until next week.

“Hi, Frido.” You said plainly.

You tried not to react emotionally despite the fact that this was the first time she was speaking to you since the incident. She hadn’t even called to say she was sorry. It all seemed to confirm she really didn’t give a damn about you—didn’t have the courtesy to treat you like a stranger even.

“How are you feeling?”

Her careful, soft tone enraged you.

“Not so good, actually. My head fucking hurts, I’m sick of sitting here while the rest of you play. And I’d really rather be doing anything than talking to you.”

You felt bad the second you said it. Not because she didn’t deserve it, but because this wasn’t you. You were better than that.

“Sorry, I just really would like to be left alone, Frido. Please, just leave me be. Leave me alone.”

Frido’s eyes shot towards the ground as she blinked furiously.

“Okay.”

She turned away and walked back to the field, joining Alexia and Ingrid as they talked about something. Part of you felt bad for rejecting her so quickly, but another part of you felt enraged that she had the nerve to wait this long.

Ingrid looked over at you and then back at Frido curiously.

"What did you want to say to her?" She asked in Norwegian, knowing Frido would understand.

"I don't know… just wanted to check in on how she's doing so far."

Before Ingrid could reply again, Alexia butted in.

"You need to tell her you're sorry as soon as possible."

"I just tried—clearly she isn't too keen on having me around, is she?" Frido snapped back.

The three of them stood in shock for a second, surprised at Frido’s temper. Usually she was level headed and understanding.

Alexia sighed and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Keep trying."

With that she was off to change and shower, giving Ingrid a small smile as she left.

"Frido," Ingrid rubbed her arm to catch her attention. "Why don't we go get a drink tonight and catch up? It's been a long time since we went out, just us."

Frido contemplated it momentarily, not stupid enough to miss that Ingrid clearly wanted to talk about her mood. If she accepted, she was also accepting the fact that she had to open up to her best friend sooner or later.

"All right."

-

"I don't know what to do," Frido complained, tossing back the last dregs of her beer.

Ingrid sat across from her, her own beer nearly untouched. They were sat out on the balcony of some restaurant nursing the end of the night. They hadn't met, just the two of them, in a while, Frido realized. She wished it was under better circumstances.

"Can I be honest?" Ingrid asked.

Frido nodded. She expected no less from the Norwegian—though she was incredibly kind, it wasn't common for them to sugar coat things.

"You've got to go up to her and apologize. Sincerely. One on one. And you can't be sure she's going to forgive you."

Frido knew Ingrid was talking about apologizing for more than the tackle. She wasn't privy to exactly what happened between the two of you—even in your anger you hadn't told your teammates what was going on—but it was clear something unhealthy had been a staple between the two of you.

"Mapí showed me the video. I didn't want to see it at first, you know how I am with that stuff, so worried always that it'll be one of us. But I finally saw it." Ingrid met her eyes. "The way she went down, the way you hit her, she could've been hurt much worse than she is. And you just got up and left, didn't even check on her."

There was a hint of disdain in Ingrid’s voice that inspired nausea in Frido.

"Had that been any player in a match against Barcelona, imagine how any one of us would've reacted."

Frido knew, if she had seen someone do to you what she had done herself, it would've boiled her blood. To see you lying there unmoving, would've had any player on that field aching, because you were wonderful. You didn't cause fights, you forgave people, you smiled at the opposition after each game, you spent as much time as possible with the fans. And Frido had somehow broken that, gotten you to yell and scream and cry.

"We were together." She whispered, not meeting Ingrid’s eyes. "Well, not really. We were sleeping together, I was at her place most days a week."

The waitress came by, and Frido ordered a glass of wine. She needed a bit more courage to fully get this out in the open.

"I didn't want commitment. I'm not… I didn't know how to be open about that with anyone. I was ashamed of it—she knew. She could sense it." Frido gripped the stem of her wine glass and took a sip. "She hated breaks because she knew I wouldn't talk to her until I was back in Barcelona. Right before I went back to Sweden for camp… we had a huge fight. She said she couldn't take it anymore, that I made her feel like a whore, that I tossed her aside whenever I didn't want her. And I said I didn't care."

Ingrid was silent.

"I didn't expect her to kick me out. Or to refuse to speak to me. I thought we'd fall back together, we always did. But it was different this time. And I hated it. I hated it so much it made my head spin."

Ingrid put a hand over Frido’s where it rested on the table.

"Frido, I love you. You're my best friend, okay?"

Frido nodded, wiping at a tear that was beginning to fall.

"You've got to make this right. Good people do shitty things. Really shitty things sometimes. But sometimes they're also forgiven, in time. And if you want anything with her, even friendship, you've got to apologize and explain yourself."

Frido nodded, meeting Ingrid’s eyes finally.

-

That night Frido found it difficult to get to sleep.

There wasn't any good reason for it: she had worked hard in practice all day and her body was exhausted. Her bed was comfortable, her apartment quiet. But it was empty. She had realized that she hadn't spent a week straight sleeping in her apartment for months. At least once a week she was with you, always.

But now you weren't speaking to her. You looked at her during practice, then avoided her at all costs. She hadn't even tried texting you, worried she would find her number blocked.

She contemplated calling someone to keep her company, though who would be up at one in the morning?

Eventually she fell asleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. She slipped away into unconsciousness, allowing her body to relax into the mattress.

Her mind, however, had different plans.

In her dreams she was in the hospital, unable to get to you. She stood at the door to your room, peering in through a small glass window. The rest of the girls were inside, holding your hand and stroking your skin as you laid in the hospital bed. Your eyes were open but you hardly moved. All she knew with certainty was that you did not want to see her. You wanted her gone. You've ruined my life, she heard you say, though your lips didn't move.

Another time you had simply disappeared. Her fault. You had moved far away, far from Barcelona, and far from her. You were happier somewhere else, with different people.

Once more you hated her. Refused to speak.

When she woke it was to a dark room and a sick feeling in her stomach. She was lonely. She wanted you next to her in bed. She wanted to see you smile and hear you laugh. She wanted to see you play great football and jump into her arms after a goal. And it terrified her to think she wouldn't get any of that again.

How was it that she could've treated you so horribly? It confused her, as if it had been someone else. How had she let her fear control her like that? And most importantly, how had she put your feelings aside so callously?

If she was going to fix anything she would need to apologize. Apologize for it all. Ingrid was right. She hadn't been there for your recovery and now it was all she wanted. The guilt of it all threatened to choke her. She thought of how scared you must've been lying on the field in pain.

Though it was only 4:30 in the morning Frido got out of bed and went to the bathroom to start a scalding hot shower. She needed a plan for how to fix things between you two.

-

It began that morning. Alexia brought you to practice. You were still living with her for the time being, until you were one hundred percent cleared. You didn't mind it, in fact it was nice to get so much time with Alexia when she was normally busy.

You walked into the locker room, so pleased to be getting into your kit for the first time in a week and a half. Even if it was just for physio work, at least you were in the uniform once more.

Unexpectedly, sitting in your locker was a small stuffed cow with a card and one of your favorite protein bars propped against it. You picked up the plushie, pressing it to your face and enjoying the softness. You were a bit of a child when it came to stuffed animals: you loved them.

The card was written in very familiar handwriting, and your heart jumped into your throat.

This made me think of you. I'd really like to apologize after practice today. Perhaps we can grab a coffee?

- Fridolina

The message was a bit stilted, but you could practically hear Frido’s hesitation on the page. She was nervous.

Just then the blonde came into the locker room to grab something from her bag. She glanced at you quickly, not sure as to your reaction.

"Frido," you called softly. You hadn't decided until that moment to try and forgive her, "I'll see you after practice."

Frido seemed shocked, but quickly her mouth transformed into a wide smile.

Practice seemed to fly by now that you were allowed to do something. The physio workers had you weight training and doing yoga to try and work your muscles that were tight from the pain you had been in. You felt like you were making progress, finally, after more than a week of sitting around.

-

The car ride with Frido was quiet. You sat in the front seat, fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone as she drove. She had music playing softly, some indie band you didn't know. It was bordering on awkward, though not quite there. You simply didn't know what to say.

Once Frido was pulling off the street to parallel park you spoke.

"I don't think I've been here before."

"I just found it a little while ago when I was wandering around desperately in need of some coffee."

The shop was cute. The outside was painted in chipping yellow paint and the shutters were open. There were a few tables outside, an eclectic set of guests seated at them. There was an old man reading the paper, a student on her laptop, and a mother with her baby. The smell of baked goods wafted from the entrance.

"The muffins are fantastic, if you want one." Frido offered cautiously.

You nodded and gestured for her to enter first.

You decided on a chai and a cinnamon muffin which did look incredible, you had to admit. When you were about to pull out your card to pay you felt a hand on your arm.

"I'll pay, please."

You allowed it, understanding that this was all part of Frido trying to ask for forgiveness. You were willing to see this to the end. It shamed you to admit but you had missed her deeply. It felt good to be near her, to smell her perfume and anticipate her ticks that you knew so well. What made you stay was the possibility that she had missed you too.

Frido carried your drinks and food to the table you picked. It was still warm enough to sit outside even with the sun setting. You tapped your foot and ate your muffin slowly, waiting on her to say something. You didn't want to speak first, but it seemed as though you might have to.

"So…" you started, trailing off to try and prompt Frido.

"I wanted to apologize. Really apologize."

You sat quietly.

"Just for the concussion you gave me?"

Frido hesitated.

"I'm still figuring things out—it's all jumbled up in my head. I was talking to Ingrid the other day and she made me realize I had to set things straight."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm not explaining this well—I wanted to apologize for hurting you. And I want us to be on better terms. I wish we could start over."

"That's it?"

Your chest squeezed painfully. You thought this was the chance you had to deal with the horrible ending to your relationship, but Frido seemed to have no interest in unpacking it. You couldn't help the way your anger flared in response to the hurt you felt.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm not exactly okay, Frido." You started to stand up. "I think it's better if I left. There's no hard feelings over the concussion, I knew it was an accident. Let's just forget about all of it."

Frido stood up quickly, reaching out to grab your elbow.

"Can I drive you back?"

You shook your head.

"I'd really rather walk. It isn't far to Alexia's."

Frido looked for a second like she would push further, but then she deflated and nodded.

"See you at practice, Frido. Thank you for the coffee."

-

You couldn't help the tears that fell down your face as you walked down the streets of Barcelona. Deciding to forget the whole thing was worse than being angry about it—at least then you got some acknowledgment. Now you felt as though Frido was telling you she just wanted to smooth things over and make nice. She wanted it to be as if this thing between you never existed—all the pain and attraction gone in one fell swoop. You wanted to scream.

How were you meant to play with someone who you had so much conflict with? Surely Alexia or Jona would begin to notice sooner or later. You knew it would affect the team chemistry. The thought just made you more upset.

The tears in your eyes began to fall faster. Not only was your relationship (whatever messy bleeding thing it had been) ruined, but there was a potential for it to impact your job, your team too. What would you do then? If it came down to you or Frido you couldn't imagine Barça picking you.

Alexia noticed you were crying the second she saw you, even though you tried to hide it.

"What's wrong?" She fretted, pulling you close to her. "What happened? I thought you were with Frido this afternoon? Why did she not drop you off?"

You just shook your head, burying it in your captain's sweater. She wrapped her arms around you, quietly shushing you.

"Come, let's sit down."

You felt like a child being led to the couch and leaning in Alexia's embrace. Deep breaths eventually calmed you down so you could speak.

"I'm sorry Ale, I shouldn't be coming here like this."

Alexia shook her head.

"Nonsense. Tell me what happened. Was it Fridolina?"

"It's my own fault, I let it get like this."

"Let what get like this? The accident?"

You shook your head.

"Not the accident. Frido and I have a…we have our difficulties."

Alexia looked at you, surprised.

"Really?"

"I don't think I can tell you…you're her captain I don't want to let it affect the team."

Alexia took your hand.

"I can separate work and personal life. I'm your friend too, and it seems like you need one."

"We were seeing each other, kind of. In secret." You sighed. "We weren't exclusive, she just wanted some fun I think. I didn't."

You felt defeated. There wasn't much more to do. You just had to accept your fate.

Alexia looked at you for a moment in disbelief. She had had no idea.

"You and Frido?"

"It was a mistake."

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to (or at least should) suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. As the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop....

...after this he drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Or, for the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. For Heaven. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And so for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3 (to I assume) even out the scores. Or... to deserve Crowley. Some people also want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he has (so thoughtlessly) done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book, my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I...did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating as well, and by furiously (but quietly) trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel I get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck (Crowley's 'What's the point of it all' at the beginning of S2). I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, but I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying from then on.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

How did Aziraphale spend the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. What happened to him. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink and cry, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen now.

ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?

He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? And why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought will happen if he survives this), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale? About his sadness?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. First of all, he was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they both BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress like Crowley does. He will learn to be more open, I'm sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, not at all. But asking how I am can only end up in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid, unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do). I think...this would probably work not just for someone who is grieving but also for someone who you know is dealing with depression for example or a serious illness etc. Edit 2. It's now almost (in 15 days) a year since my brother died. The random attacks of pain and grief have lessened and I have started to do more of the things I enjoyed before... and I am able to answer how are you questions without feeling like they are trying to mock me (the questions, not the people). So I suppose things do get ... lighter? More diffused? I'm not sure. Because it's still exactly as unfair that my brother has not lived this past year as it will be however many years I will be here without him I expect.

[cozage]

Hello, can I request for aged up characters x reader. Like them getting hit by a quirk that can age people up temporarily like them being in their 60's or something. Thank youuuuuu.

A/N: I FINALLY DID IT HERE U GO Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Usopp, Law, Ace Cw: Ace’s gets a little suggestive ;) Total word count: 1.2k

A Glimpse of the Future

Zoro

When you entered the kitchen, you were startled to find an older man walking around so casually. An older man with a scarred eye and green hair you knew so well, now slightly streaked with gray. 

“Zoro?!” You asked cautiously, staring at the man. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled. His voice was deeper than you remembered, but it was the same voice. 

“What hap-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He set his swords down and sat on the chair. After a heavy sigh, he finally spoke again. “Got hit by an ability that makes you old. Just a stupid prank from some kid.”

“Is it permanent?” you asked, grabbing the tea kettle off the stove. You had to admit, you liked this look on Zoro. But you were afraid of what it could mean. 

“Should be back to normal in a few hours.” He shook his head and sighed. “Everything aches, dammit. I hate this.”

“You always were an old man in soul,” you teased. You were relieved that he wouldn’t be this way forever, and now you could joke around with him.

“I’m not an old man!” he yelled. 

You had to turn around and pretend to work on your tea to stifle your laugh. He really was sensitive over this. Just like an old man would be.

“Calm down, now,” you soothed, walking over to him with a warm cup for the two of you to share. “Would you like some tea?”

He eyed it, and you could tell he wanted a drink, so you passed it off to him. 

“You don’t look bad, you know.” You ran your fingers through his hair, gently trailing over the new silver streaks. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled, taking a drink and humming in delight. “I’m not meant to be this old.”

“Darling, I disagree.” You paused to kiss his cheek. “You were made for your golden years.”

Usopp

“Quick! Y/N! I need you!” An old man who looked shockingly like Usopp grabbed your hand. 

You scowled, pulling away from him. “Who the hell are you?!”

“I’m Usopp from the future!” He yelled, trying to usher you from the deck. “I’ve traveled through space and time just to reach you and give you a warning!”

“What warning?” you asked. You were still cautious, but he did act a lot like the Usopp you knew. The only big difference was the wrinkles and the streaks of gray in his long, tied-back hair. 

“Come with me immediately!” he said. “It’s been years since I’ve seen you! We don’t have much time!”

“Usopp, stop. You’re scaring me.” Why had he not seen you in years? Why did he have such little time with you? None of it made sense. 

Old Usopp grabbed your face, holding you close to him. “On this day, in twenty years…you’re going to disappear right from this very spot!”

“What?” you whispered, trying to hold back tears. “What do you mean?”

“He’s lying to you!” Nami yelled. “He got hit by an ability that makes him old and he’s making it everyone else’s problem!”

Your fear turned to anger, and you shoved Usopp away from you. “That wasn’t funny!” you shouted, wiping a tear from your eye. 

Usopp started cackling. “Oh man, you look terrified! I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That wasn’t funny,” you repeated, still glaring at him. In hindsight, it was kind of humorous. You just wished the prank had been played on someone else. 

Usopp pulled you in for a hug, his soft, weathered lips kissing your temple. “Forgive me?”

“This time,” you giggled slightly from his stray hairs tickling your skin. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Deal,” he said. “Now let's go trick someone else.”

Law

An older man with Law’s exact outfit stormed into your room and rushed to the bathroom. 

“Don’t say anything,” he said. 

“Law?” You cautiously peered around the door frame. 

His expressions and stance were familiar, but he was older. Much older. 

“I don’t want to talk about it!”

You flinched at the sternness in his voice; it was much harsher when mixed with the gruffness of age.

He noticed you in the mirror, wearily standing back and watching him silently. His tone had been extreme, and he knew it. 

He gave a sigh and pulled himself away from the mirror to walk towards you. “I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated about all this.”

You reached up and ran your hand across his hair, the black locks now streaked with white. You smiled to yourself. Even in his old age, Law was still incredibly handsome. 

“You’re old,” you whispered out the sentence, grinning at him. 

Law’s eye twitched, but he said nothing in response. You could tell he was pouting.

“Is it permanent?” you asked, rubbing your finger across his softened skin, now decorated with wrinkles. 

“Should wear off by tomorrow morning,” he grumbled. 

You hummed pleasantly, still examining his weathered face. His sharp, golden eyes were so out of place on a face that old. 

“Well, Trafalgar Law,” you purred, running your hands through his hair and placing a kiss on his lips. “If this is what I have waiting in store for the future, I simply cannot wait.”

Ace

The door to your cabin opened, Ace’s silhouette blocking out the light behind him. You couldn’t see his face, but something felt…off. 

“Don’t freak out,” Ace’s voice was far more husky than you remembered it, and his words sent a jolt of panic through your bones. 

“Ace?” You sat up in the bed, squinting to get a better look. 

“It’s only temporary,” he said. 

“Ace, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” You stood out of bed and walked to the door to greet him. 

Yes, something was definitely off. His body was bigger than you remembered, more stocky and muscular. His hair was longer. It was Ace, but it wasn’t the Ace you knew. 

“Something went wrong on the mission, but everyone’s okay. We’re just…”

You couldn't stand it anymore. You turned his body slightly so you could see it in the light. 

“Old!” you exclaimed, staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re old!”

You could see a slight flash of irritation dance across his face, and you giggled. He certainly was attractive, even irritated in his old age. The kind of old man who would yell at kids to stay away from his house one moment and then run to play with them the next.  

“You’re handsome, Portgas D. Ace.” You tucked his long hair behind his ear and ran your thumb across his cheek. 

“You think so?” He gave you a slightly cocky grin, but you could tell he was still self-conscious about it. 

Your eyes trailed down his body, sinful thoughts filling your head. “How long are you like this?”

He shrugged. “Few hours, I think. We can just sleep it off.”

You blushed, your fingers trailing down his chest. “Who says we have to sleep it off?”

Ace’s mouth fell open, and then quickly corrected into a devious grin. “You, my dear, have major daddy issues.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

[lizardboiii]

Breaking up ┃One Piece Pt. 1

Scenario: Having a huge fight with your bf which ultimately leads one of you to saying something you regret.

"I wish I never met you."

Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro x Fem!reader

cw: 18+, SFW, Angst, Hurt/No comfort, vulgar language

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.

Monkey D. Luffy

“You never even treat me like we're together!”

You were at your breaking point, figuratively and literally. In the last three months that you and Luffy had been together, not once did he change the way he acted towards you. It felt as if you were still just Luffy’s nakama. Well today that was all going to change. You had a plan.

It took some convincing, but you finally managed to get Nami and Ussop to help you set up a romantic dinner in the Sunny’s crow’s nest. Two of Luffy’s favorite things, food and you. It was perfect.

With preparations taken care of, you waited patiently for Luffy to arrive. Your aforementioned captain was currently exploring the island you were stopped at. But with the sun starting to set, he'd be back for dinner any minute now.

So you waited. 

And waited. 

And waited….

You waited till the candles were near burnt out. Waited till the food went ice cold. Waited till your eyes stung from holding back tears.

Monkey D. Luffy had stood you up.

Your own boyfriend. 

Slamming the napkin delicately placed across your lap onto the table, you pushed yourself to your feet. Humiliation creeped its way up your neck. Never in your life have you ever felt so worthless. 

Holding back hiccups, you dragged yourself out of the crow’s nest and away from the undisturbed meal. What was Nami going to think? All that preparation for nothing. You clenched your hands into tight fists. The next time you see Luffy you swear you were going to-

“y/n!”

You spun on your heel to face the familiar voice. Luffy’s face smiled brightly at you, blinding you more than the moonlight. It was almost enough for you to forgive him. Almost.

“Wait up!”

Scoffing, you glared at his cheery form before turning away from him. All you wanted was a shower, not excuses. 

Luffy caught up with your silently seething form with ease, spinning around you like top. He pranced around as if he were a crow and you his shiny treasure. Your name falling from his lips like a mantra.

Try as you might, eventually you gave into his pestering, voice sharp as nails, “What do you want, Luffy?”

Luffy’s grin widened despite your tone, “Sorry I couldn't make it, y/n. There was a festival in town, you should have come. There was an all you can eat buffet, Tra-guy and Jaggy were there too!” He scratched his chin, “Maybe next time you can invite everyone else so we can all eat together again!”

Your eye twitched, “Why would I invite the whole crew to our date?”

“Date?”

You stopped in your tracks, “Yes, date. You know the ones you're supposed to take your girlfriend out on? That kind?”

You could practically see the gears turning in his head at your reply. 

“But I have multiple girlfriends?” “WHAT?”

“Ya! You, Robin, Nami,” Luffy used his fingers to count, “Oh, and Vivi!”

You face palmed, “Not “girl” friends, Luffy. A “girlfriend”. Someone who’s more,” You reached for Luffy’s hand, “Special.”

“But all my friends are special,” Luffy pouted, gingerly returning your touch.

Laughing, you shook your head, “I know. But…It's a different type of special. It's when you wanna hold their hand, and you wanna be near them no matter what,” You met his confused gaze, “It's someone you love.”

“Then why would I wanna do that with you?”

“Huh?”

It felt like your body hit a brick wall. Every word ripped from your throat. He was joking right? It was a sick joke but a joke no less. 

“I don’t think I love you.”

You blinked in confusion before choking out a response, “T-Thats okay. Sometimes it takes a while to realize you love someone. It's not immediate.”

Luffy hummed, “I'm not sure I even want a “girlfriend”, y/n.”

A nervous laughter erupted from your throat, “Luffy, what are you talking about?” It felt like your heart might leap out of your chest.

“I like how my friends are now. I don't need a “girlfriend”. I have my Nakama. I have you.”

The world suddenly stopped spinning, and only for a moment the ocean quieted and the breeze hushed. Then, as if nothing happened, the world began to turn as normal, leaving behind your hollowed out body.

"...what?"

Cheeky smiled, Luffy repeated his words as if it was only the news, "I don't need a "girlfriend" I have a crew!"

The empty feeling in the pit of your stomach slowly filled with rage. First, he stood you up. Now? Now, he wants to pretend you guys aren't even dating!?

“Luffy, we're dating! What are you talking about? I asked you out almost three months ago!” You snapped, “Why did you even say yes to me if you didn't want a "girlfriend"?” 

“I don't know,” He cocked his head to the side, “I just thought you wanted to be closer friends.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “What?”

Luffy shifted in his sandals, clearly uncomfortable, “I thought you wanted to be my “girl” friend, not my “girlfriend”.”

“Are you joking?” Your skin felt red hot as if your whole being was ablaze, “You thought I wanted to be your “girl” friend!? Did it ever once occur to you that friends don't hold each other’s hands!?”

Luffy quickly retracted his hand from your grip, scratching his head in thought, “Not really.”

“Oh my god,” You couldn't tell if you were laughing or crying at this point, “This whole time you never thought we were together? Ever?!”

“I guess we are a bit closer than everyone else,” Luffy’s brows furrowed in thought.

“A bit?” You ran your fingers through your hair, “We spend every waking moment together! I've confided in you, you've confided with me. You know things about me no one else does!”

To his credit, Luffy looked ashamed, “I’m sorry, y/n. I guess…I just never noticed how you really felt.”

You rolled your tear filled eyes, “Obviously.”

“I can try if you want-”

“Forget it, Luffy,” You held your hands up in defeat, “Just forget it. Whatever you thought was going on here is over.”

Luffy grabbed your arm, “What! I don't want that!”

“You don't seem to want a lot of things,” You shrugged his grip off, “Including me.”

“y/n.”

You wiped your face clear of tears.

“We're done, Lu.”

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.

Roronoa Zoro

"Do I need to be a sword just to get a minute of your attention!?"

Three hundred seventy-six, three hundred seventy-seven, three hundred seventy-eight-

“Are you still counting?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, mom.”

Zoro ignored your annoyed response, preferring to continue his push ups below you. Huffing, you rested your chin on your hand. He had been going at this for hours now. You were starting to feel nauseous as your form jostled every time Zoro went up and down with you on his back.

“How much longer?”

Zoro grunted, “When I reach two thousand.”

“Two thousand!?”

Your sudden shout made Zoro shoot up quickly, knocking you off balance. Your criss-crossed form easily flew from Zoro’s back to the ground below. You fell hard, slamming your shoulder into the wood floor. 

Hissing, you rubbed your now sore arm, “What the hell, Zoro!?”

“Shit.”

The moss head was quick to his feet, offering you a hand, “Dammit, you should've been more careful.”

You snatched his extended hand and scoffed, “I wasn't the one who moved so suddenly.”

Pulling you to your feet, Zoro continued to hold your hand, “I wasn't the one complaining so loudly.”

“I can’t help it. We’ve been here all day,” You played with his larger fingers, “Plus, you promised you'd explore the island with me today.”

You could hear Zoro grumble under his breath before sighing loudly, “Training is more important right now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What, why?"

Your thoughts raced around in your head to find a reason for Zoro's sudden uptightness. You were quick to settle on striking golden eyes and a small dagger. Dracule Mihawk. He and Zoro had put on quite the show only weeks ago.

Rubbing Zoro's palm, you quirked a brow, "Are you still hung up about that Mihawk guy beating you?”

“I'm not hung up.”

You flinched at Zoro’s tone, “You clearly are.”

Quickly dropping your hand, Zoro turned away from you, “Listen it doesn't even matter what you think. You wouldn't understand. You're not a swordsman.”

“I'm not a swordsman but I'm definitely your girlfriend,” you snapped at his back.

“Just because you're my girlfriend doesn't mean you can control my training.”

“Just because you're a swordsman doesn't mean you can just dismiss me.”

The room filled with a silence thick enough to cut with a sword. You thought you might drown on land. Staring into Zoro's rigid back, you tried to manifest any form of response from him.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, Zoro rolled his shoulders and turned to face you. Your breath caught in your throat at his expression. It was dark, almost...menacing. It was a gaze he normally reserved scum marines and enemy pirates alike, but never for you.

“You're the one who's dismissing me!”

A forced laugh erupted from your mouth, “How am I dismissing you, moss head?” You crossed the space between the two of you, “By telling you to take one measly break?”

Zoro’s eyes bore into your own as if trying to find his next words. Grabbing your hand, he placed it on his bare chest, “Do you see this?”

You tensed at the feeling of the scar tissue, Mihawk.

“This...this scar is why I have to be stronger. For the crew. For Luffy,” Zoro squeezed your hand, “For you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Zoro, I didn't-”

“Maybe we should break up.”

You paused, mouth stuck open in shock, “...what?”

It felt like you had swallowed glass, pins and needles running down your esophagus into your stomach. But the glass still wasn't enough to fill the large pit beginning to form.

Gently, Zoro pushed your hand away from him, “This relationship,” he took a deep breath, “Might be too much of a distraction.”

You never really understood when people said it felt like their heart was being ripped out of their chest. But now? It felt like your whole chest cavity had been removed. 

Slowly, hot tears began to cascad down your rosied cheeks, “You think I'm a distraction?”

Zoro paused, his internal conflicted evident on his face, “...yes.”

You clenched your teeth together tightly, “Screw you, Zoro! I can barely get you to pay attention to me when someone even mentions the word “sword” but I'm the distraction?!” You jammed a finger into his chest, avoiding his scar, “If you needed an excuse to break up with me so badly you could've at least chosen a good one!”

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Zoro favored staring at the ground, “But if I want to be the greatest swordsman I can't be with you.” His hand captured the one buried in his chest, "Not yet at least."

You ripped your hand away from him, "If not now, then never." Your eyes searched Zoro's, looking for any sign of regret, "Choose, Zoro."

"Its over, y/n," Massive arms pulled you into a warm hug, "I'm sorry."

Clutching onto him, you sobbed silently. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he just have both?

"I love you."

“Fuck you.”

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *.

Requests Open!

[miniwheat77]

Nasty. (Mean!König x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, König being a big meanie, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight dub con, poorly translated German, this is short forgive me, (sorry if I missed any.)

Your nerves are completely shot as you stand in a line. You don’t know why, but he’s so so mean. So mean. He hates you for some reason. Absolutely hates you.

You’re lined up with other Sergeants, waiting nervously as Colonel König passes each of you. “Y/L/N, 50 push ups. im Augenblick.”

You know better than to argue, so you drop to the floor, beginning to do your push ups. Trying not to cry. You wish you could just know why he’s so mean to you. You just didn’t understand, you’d never done anything. You were always kind to him. Always obeyed him. When you finish your push ups, he’s excused everyone else and he’s watching you intently. “Colonel.” You ask, out of breath. He looks at you. “Can I ask why you gave me 50 push ups?” He stands there, eyes dark as he stares upon you.

“50 more.” He breathes. “Now.” A sigh leaves your lips and you obey him, dropping down to your knees again and propping yourself up. “When you’re finished you can go to bed.” He breathes. You choose to ignore him, tired of the way he’s treating you. He walks away down the hallway, but watches to make sure you actually finish your push ups. You do. He smirks to himself. You stand up when you finish and walk down the hallway to your room. You don’t understand.

A couple days later, you wait patiently for an order. You’ve been burned out completely, he’s making you run laps around the base and your eyes are burning from the sweat dripping down your face. The sun is beating down on you and he won’t let you stop for anything. He disappeared a while ago and you haven’t seen him. Your vision starts to blur, and you look confused. Legs slowing to a stop against your will. You start to see other colors, brighter colors filling your vision. That’s all you remember.

König forgot. He went inside for a second and he was going to head back out to relieve you but he got distracted. He’s sitting in his office when he hears yelling, and stands up to peek outside. Curious what the commotion is. He sees another Sergeant bursting through the door carrying you, and his stomach falls. “I need a medic!” He calls. Others flood the hallway and a medic appears. They’re rushing you back to the infirmary. “What’s going on?” She asks. “I don’t know, I found her outside passed out.”

She sighs. “She’s having a heat stroke, we need to cool her temperature down.” König walks away from the infirmary. He knows he’s a little extreme sometimes.

—

“My office, now.” His stern voice sends chills up your spine. You follow after him.

He closes the door behind you and walks around you, staring you down. “I said 50 push ups.” He crosses his arms. “I will do them, but I want to know why first.” You breath. He mumbles something under his breath in German, you don’t hear him. “Now.” He breathes. “No.” You breathe. “I deserve to know why.” He let’s out a deep chuckle and you know you’re digging yourself a hole, but you’re tired of this. “You listen to me, girl.” He growls. “I don’t have to explain myself. I don’t have to tell you why. I say jump, you fucking jump.” He growls. “dummes Mädchen.” He growls. You know what he’s just said. “Fuck you.” You growl. His eyes snap to you, wide. He’s pissed. In one second, he’s got you slammed up against a wall. Hand around your throat. He’s watching you turn a shade of red. “Fine. You want to fucking disobey me?” He breathes. You can feel his spit particles landing on your face. He’s seething. “Ich zeige dir, was ich mit bösen Mädchen mache.” He growls, he lets go of your throat and spins you around. Forcing you down onto his desk.

Your eyes widen as he tears your cargo pants down your legs, forcing them down. What is this? Why is he reacting like this? You feel the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance and in one hard thrust, he forces his cock into you and a gasp gets stuck in your throat as he starts to thrust himself into you. He’s stretching you and it hurts. Tears prick your eyes at the intrusion, a cry leaving your lips.

Luckily your body gets used to him. Your hands clutch his desk and he groans out. Hands holding your hips in a death grip, sure to leave bruises in their wake. His belt rattles violently with each of his brutal thrusts, the massive man makes you look small. Watching the way your pussy stretches around his massive cock has his eyes rolling back. You’re quiet for a while, but his thrusts halt immediately when a moan leaves your lips. He spins you around, pupils blown out. He can’t believe his ears. “Do you like this?” He asks. You’re leaning up against his desk, body exposed to his judgmental eyes. You stay quiet which earns a sharp slap to your cheek. You nod your head shyly. He grasps your thighs, forcing you back onto his desk again, returning his cock to your weepy hole. He thrusts in again and you cry out. “Ah! König please- slower please-“ you whimper. “You can take it, we both know you can.” He growls. He squeezes your breasts too hard and you whimper out, he’s so mean. “You like when I’m mean to you, dumme Hure” he growls. “You like when I bully your slutty pussy. I know how wet you get for me when I’m mean to you. You like it. So take it. Nimm mich, du verdammte Schlampe”

A cry leaves your lips as he bullies your cunt. Thrusting into you hard, not giving you anytime to adjust to him or his massive size. His desk is sliding across the floor with a violent screech, it doesn’t phase him. Not even a little bit. His groans that he’s letting out, they’re something different. You’ve never heard him being pleasured before, only angry at you. Maybe this is how you could make him happier. Maybe this is how you fix him being mean to you. You’ve got a death grip on his desk, his cock is pushing into your cervix and it’s too much. Bordering uncomfortable but you don’t dare tell him that. You keep your legs open for him, letting him use you. His moans are getting a little more desperate. Whimpers almost. “Oh fuck, so tight.” He gasps. He pushes one of your legs up a little higher, cock sliding even further into you. How on earth you were handling him was beyond you. You can’t help as your eyes start to water, tears beginning to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his massive cock. He’s overwhelming you. You can’t help it. “König?” You ask. “What?” He growls, “can I cum?” You whimper. You can see the way the small wrinkles around his eyes form, he’s smiling. “Now that’s a good girl, asking for permission.” He breathes. “Just a little longer.” He breathes.

You’re right on the edge. He’s pushing you over it quickly and you don’t know if you can hold on. “Ich sagte, warte”

You nod your head eagerly and he’s smiling down at you again. His cock twitches slightly and he’s about to cum. “Cum now, Liebling” he mumbles. You fall apart completely beneath him. Thighs shaking, body shivering. Chills arising on your skin. Your eyes roll back and you’re sucked into another dimension for a minute. The sound of him panting is bringing you back down to earth. He slides out of you and you let out a gasp. Realizing what’s just happened, he’s cum in you. Your eyes widen slightly. Worry filling you up.

“Get dressed and go clean up.” He orders. You nod your head, obeying him immediately.

The feeling that settles into your chest, sadness. Because no matter how much you offered your body up for him. Your holes, he was always just going to be mean.

[pearl-nouveau]

A Woman's Purpose - Cregan Stark x Reader [chapter two]

summary: After your grandsire's death, you fly to Winterfell with Jacaerys and find yourself nervous to treat with Cregan years after your heated moment together.

warnings: none i think

a/n: short chapter, just felt like a good stopping point. anyone want part three,,,?🤗

The actions of Alicent and her eldest son did not shock me, but they deeply wounded a sense of hope that I hadn't realized was still deep within my soul. I would always remember Cregan praising my kind heart, but sometimes it felt like a curse. I had believed at my core that our family could find it within themselves to forgive, to come together, to support my grandsire's wishes and put a woman on the Iron Throne... I had believed that Alicent had a spine, that Aemond had humility, that Aegon had a heart. And Heleana, my poor, dear aunt whom I considered a close friend - it pained me to think of her caught in the center of such a mess. I longed to see her and I longed to see my mother on her throne. 

I thought back to the dinner we had before leaving for Dragonstone again. We had been merry, since Jaecerys and Lucerys were newly engaged. I was happy for Jace especially since we had talked so often of hoping for happy marriages, and Baela was a wonderful girl who he already adored. It pleased me that there was a possibility for love between the two of them. 

Aegon had drunkenly wandered to my seat and leaned towards my ear. 

"Poor niece... Your only purpose to be married off and still yet to be engaged. You'll be running out of options soon." 

His amusement sickened me and I continued to pick at my food, trying to ignore him, but he continued. 

"If you don't pick you'll end up with some elderly lord with a thumb for a pecker. Best swallow your pride and pick someone to claim you. Can't be your own woman forever, girl." His breath reeked of alcohol. 

Jacaerys had noticed his advances and stood to intervene, only for Aegon to direct his attention towards Baela, which began a whole other mess leading to the night quickly unraveling. 

It had made you think about marriage, not only as a duty, but as a tool. It had always been an important fixture in politics, but after everything that has happened with the throne, I knew that it would be even more urgent for me to take a husband. I lay in my bed at Dragonstone, resting my eyes, considering the current predicament of betrothal.

When it came down to it, there was no one I wanted to imagine myself marrying except for the Northern man who had captured my heart so many years ago. I feared, however, that it was too late. I had already refused him, in a way, one time. In addition, I had humiliated myself with his advances and then fled. He very well may hate me; find me to be a tease, a whore. I shuddered to think about it. 

At that moment, Jacaerys barged into my room. 

"Sister," breathlessly he addressed me, "mother has requested us to go to Winterfell and treat with Cregan Stark." 

There was a hint of a smile on his face, although we both knew the task was serious. I had no immediate response to him, so he elaborated.

"I suggested that you come. I believe you should see him. Besides, it is the perfect excuse to go."

I turned away, suddenly emotional. I wiped at my face. "Perhaps he has already taken a new wife," I shook my head. "We only need one representative of the crown."

"You're coming," He said finally. I realized it was no longer a request, but an order.

"Does mother know?"

He shook his head. "This is for you to figure out. No interferences." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Except for mine, right now. I would hope that if we are to enter the Hell of war we can find at least some happiness within the chaos."

His words made me want to weep, realizing how much he has grown and how much more he will have to in the coming years. How much all my siblings would grow. I feared for the lives of my loved ones. Instinctively, I reached for my brother and pulled him to me. He hugged me back tightly. 

"It'll all be okay, little dragon," his old nickname for me made me chuckle into his shoulder, "tomorrow, we ride for Winterfell."

That night, I dreamt of Cregan. Brief, hazy glimpses of moments we shared in the past. Moments that made me fall in love with him. 

I saw him poised in front of Vermithor, no fear in those stormy eyes, his hand outstretched to stroke my beautiful dragon's scaled face. He had respected the authority of my beast, and Vemithor in turn had leaned into the Lord's touch. That moment had brought heat to my stomach and tugged at my insides. The Bronze Fury was not easy to befriend. 

I saw him across the altar in the sept where I took him on a tour, his head bent in prayer, dark hair framing his face. He had caught my eye and held it, unblinking, keeping it until I looked away.

I saw in the golden hour in the training yard, his gaze finding me between every attack. He moved like ice against his sparring partners: cold, calculated, hardened. No one bested him. When we walked to dinner together afterward, he walked behind me, and I had suddenly felt a tug at my hair. He gently pulled the ribbon holding my braid together - a braid commanded by my mother - letting my hair fall down my back. I like it down like this, he told me, wild and free, like you. 

Morning was unwelcome because it ripped me from the warmth of my dreams with him, but the realization that I was soon to be headed for Winterfell thrilled me. I quickly dressed and packed with my handmaidens before finding Jacaerys in the hallway. He said nothing, grasping my hand and nodding solemnly. We moved to the dragon pit together and prepared Vermax and Vermithor. When we exited the cave, I saw my mother and younger siblings watching on from above. 

"We should say our goodbyes," I told Jacaerys, "the Gods only know when the next time we will all be together is."

Jace nodded, and we joined with the rest of our family. I kissed each of the little ones on the forehead, pinched their cheeks, sniffed their baby skin, making every attempt to remember them as they were in case I was struck from the back of my dragon. Lucerys stood tall when I came to him, like the proud little fighter he was, and I gave him a tight hug and a squeeze of luck for his own journey. I worried for him dearly, but Lucerys was perhaps the most smart and capable of us Valeryen children, even at his young age.

"Good luck, raqiarzy," I spoke into his hair. He was nearly as tall as me at that point. "I shall see you soon."

My mother gazed at me with that look she always wore as I moved to stand in front of her. So diplomatic, so very regal. Sometimes I wished she would soften and just be my mother for a moment. But now, finally involved in diplomacy, who was I to her? Still her daughter, or some cancerous growth jeopardizing her claim?

I felt her arms around me. "Be safe," she whispered into my ear, "I love you, my daughter."

Tears filled my eyes and I hugged her back. I thought about all of our fights about my marriage. Who was I truly fighting? We were both shackled by tradition, still, I realized. Her claim had been an abstract future and now it had all come crashing down. She was still fighting the same battles against men that she believed to have won as a girl my own age. None of our past disagreements mattered now. Happiness and freedom were no longer mine to take for myself; they may be ripped from us all at any moment. 

My mother and I separated and she placed a kiss to my brow. Her stoic demeanor had faded and I could see wetness in her eyes. Jace offered me his arm and I reluctantly took it, turning away from my family and trying not to think about our uncertain future. 

The journey to Winterfell was long and cold, as many journeys on dragonback are, but I was comforted by the presence of Vermax and Jacaerys gliding back and forth below me. Our dragons, very different in size, flew quite differently. Vermax was nimble and slight, disappearing between clouds and darting in and out of sight easily. A formidable stealth opponent. Vermithor, on the other hand, was enormous and flew with simple, powerful strokes of his golden wings. He was fearsome, and I found him to be the most beautiful creature in the world. As terrifying as he was, our bond was strong. He never raised a tone at me; he grumbled and purred in my presence only, and awaited orders with undying loyalty. He had been my dragon since the time I was ten and four, and our relationship only strengthened by the day. 

The sky greyed as we flew further North and the air began to chill. I shivered not only from the cold but the impending reunion I was to have with Cregan. I had no idea what to expect. I had considered opening his letter but it was still too frightening to me. It left me even more unprepared for a conversation with him. 

When we reached Winterfell, Jacaerys and I circled Vermax and Vermithor a few times to signal our landing. We made no sudden moves towards the castle and its surrounding fortress, and landed in an isolated field. The wind whipped my long hair out from the veil I had tied around my head. It floated around my head like a halo as I squinted in the heatless sunlight. 

"Someone rides this way," Jacaerys called from the back of Vermax. He began to disembark and I glanced over to where he looked. A rider on a black horse, eighteen hands tall, came galloping towards our dragons. Vermithor let out a roar of distaste. He didn't like people coming near him - or me. I calmed him with coos in High Valerian and began to slide down his wing. The rider had stopped next to Jace and gotten off the horse.

As I crept closer, I knew it was Cregan. His stature was unmistakable. Tall and dominating against the bleak horizon in his furs. Gods, I had never seen him in his heavy Northern furs. It made me want to crawl within them, to feel the heat of his body around me. Coming closer, I saw him clap Jace on the shoulder with familiarity, and then turn his gaze to me. With no hesitation, he came towards me. I saw behind him Jace getting onto his horse, the ghost of a brotherly smirk on his face, and kicking the horse forward towards Winterfell. 

"What-" I began to question as Cregan came within arm's length of me, unable to finish as he pulled me to his chest in a tight hug. The furs were just as warm as they looked, and I melted into his arms. It had been so long since I smelled him. Like sap and smoke and ale and somehow roses. My arms snaked under the cloak and I could feel the hardened muscle of his body through his shirt. And then I realized - he was hugging me, as if he missed me, as if...

"I've missed you, my princess." He spoke into my hair. 

"You aren't angry with me?" I breathed into his cloak. He pulled back and took my chin in his calloused fingers, his face laced with confusion.

"How could I ever, my girl? You didn't read my letter?"

I flushed. "I was embarrassed. I thought you would have wanted me to keep quiet after I... lost control like that." He barked out a laugh, which would have made her feel ashamed had he not paired it with a gentle kiss to her cheekbone.

"I'll show you what losing control really is, someday," he kissed her cheek again and hummed. "Darling, I wrote you that letter and apologized for leaving so quickly... had it been up to me I would have stayed until you chose to see me again and asked for your hand right there. I had to get home to my son and my duties here but you have never left my head." Now it was his turn to flush as he recounted the contents of his letter. "I... I had begged you to someday consider me to be your husband if you ever found that marriage was something you wanted. None of my advisors could convince me to take another wife until I knew that there was no chance. I have held out hope for years, I have taken no other lover, and I beg you to end my agony and provide an answer," he dropped to his knee as if his body were giving out on him. "Is there a chance? Someday, that you would allow me to love you as I already do?"

It all became clear to me that my world was soon to fall apart, and standing in front of me was a man who was promising to stand by my side in the worst of times. As my family is torn apart and our power in the realm shattered. A smile crossed my face.

"You mean to tell me that the most eligible Northern Lord has been withholding his services from the ladies of the North, all because a faraway dragon rider was stuck in his dreams?" 

My teasing lilt was enough for him to look up at me and grin, standing to his full height towering over me. He grasped at my waist with one hand and cupped my face with the other. 

"They've been left wanting, I suppose." My Lord Stark said contemplatively. 

"As have ladies in the South." I told him, surprised by my own boldness and pleased by the delivery. 

He wasted no more time in capturing my lips, kissing me as if he were starved. He kept taking breaths to stare at me before continuing. His lips moved lovingly across my neck, my jaw, my throat, hungry to taste every inch of skin. After a while, I pressed against his chest and examined his face. It was even more beautiful up close than I remembered. His face an oval with hardened edges. Strong brows and thick pink lips that I was free to kiss. His hair pulled back haphazardly to keep from blowing in the wind. He kissed me one more time, this one softer than baby's breath, and held my head in one of his strong hands before nodding towards Winterfell in the distance.

"I let Jacaerys take my steed so we might walk together." He gestured back to the dragons. "Whatever they eat I will have brought to them."

"They'll eat anything. Even you," I poked his chest. 

"You just tell me if Vermithor ever starts feeling jealous. I shall begin to steer clear." 

We walked together, slowly, catching up after the last couple of years. I asked of his son and he told me that Rickon was nearly three years old. He stopped me for a moment. "I've already an heir. If we wed, I shall not force you to bear my children. You will never be just the mother of my children. You will be my wife." 

I smiled at that, saying nothing. Children hadn't crossed my mind. I supposed I was not ready to think about it. The way he spoke so definitely about our marriage gave me pause. 

"Cregan, I-" my words faltered, but I persisted. "I think you ought to know that I didn't come here just to see you." 

He chuckled. "I figured as such when you brought your brother and two dragons."

I blushed. "We need you and your army to stand by my mother. My uncle has taken her throne. My grandsire's crown was scarcely off his head before Aegon took it. My mother raises an army to stand against him. I am not a bargaining tool, I will not marry you for an army-"

"-I would never presume to trade you like an animal. The North will see your mother, the rightful queen, on her throne, you have my word. I want to marry you because I fell in love with you in King's Landing those years ago, and I wish for you to be free as you want to be. If marrying me is not how you will find your freedom, I will accept your answer." The concept seemed to pain him. 

Would marriage truly shackle me? Being with Cregan felt like being on dragonback for the first time. It felt like gliding over a lake of glass water, your arms outstretched. I had fought and fought for so many years to be free, but free from what? I now saw in front of me a new kind of freedom, away from the clawing hands that surrounded the crown always. I saw a man who chose me and respected my happiness. I looked around at the rolling hills and distant mountains. The cool wind on my face. Bustling people entering and exiting the gates of Winterfell. Perhaps I imagined it, but I heard laughter. Children. I closed my eyes for a moment and felt peace.

I opened them again to see the hopeful face of Cregan Stark awaiting my words. If what he said was true, would he remain here in front of me for the rest of my life, always waiting to grant my next wish?

I smiled. Reached out to him. Snaked my hands around his neck, brought his face close to mine. 

"I choose me," I told him quietly. "So, I choose you."

We sealed the betrothal with a kiss. 

[twstfanblog]

~Manhwa AU- A Fairytale Do-Over~ Pt 2

A/N: GUESS WHAT I FINISHED~? It's been hot as fuck over here recently and our house doesn't have central air. So writing has been hard, but I managed! Enjoy Malleus's huberous trying to hit him but he's still too short to get the lesson. Next part will be when Yuu meets Leona! Word Count: 3.9K Pairings: Yuu & Malleus (Their friendship has ended and he doesn't even know it), Sibling Malleus & Silver, Parental Lilia & Silver Prev / Next

The royal palace was massive, the size rivaling that of an urban village. And that didn't include the gardens, the patios, the woods attached to the grounds; the area was so large that there were even hidden places Lilia didn't know about. It was grand and it was lavished, all that an empirical bloodline could want. But it was empty, halls filled with priceless artwork and historical artifacts echoed with every footstep you took.

It was a sound Lilia had heard twice and never wished to hear a third time. First was when he was brought to the palace to be Maleanor’s playmate, second was the day after her and her husband's funeral.

And now, as he stared down a twitching servant, he was sure the palace had started to prep itself to return to such a state. He massaged his temples, taking a long and slow breath in, “Forgive me…I must have grown hard of hearing in my age…what did you say?”

The servant shook in terror, the silver tray he held in his hands jostling the letter on it. Lilia Vanrouge was retired as a general, but no one in the fleet of servants or guards dared to upset him. Even delivering bad news was seen as foolish and asking to be punished, “Yu-…The young miss Crowley’s invite was returned…unopened…We called their residence to ask…but the servants are stating that…she is ill and unwilling to attend…”

“…”

Lilia felt…flabbergasted. Yuu had attended Malleus's birthdays sick before, the adoration the young girl held for his charge gave her the will to suffer through hours of discomfort. No illness or annoyingly loud guests could deter her from spending time with her friend.

But even thinking that made him flinch. Malleus was not…receptive to Yuu's kindness or shows of friendship. The young fae lord had found the girl to be clingy, annoying, downright a pain. But no matter how he protested their playdates, Lilia kept scheduling them because Malleus needed someone to see as his equal.

Though he was the crowned prince, a marvel to the fae and kingdom, Yuu was by marriage his cousin and closest of equal royal standing. Malleus’s father was not of noble blood, a fact that kept his and Maleanor’s love from truly being accepted by the council. Luckily, Levan had cut a deal with Dire, being formally adopted into the Crowley line in exchange for more loyal ties with the empire's crown once Levan and Maleanor had married.

A promise that was kept with playdates to the two houses’ heirs.

Lilia bit his lip. Though both of Malleus's parents had passed and such a promise meant nothing now, the Crowley line was all Malleus had in terms of extended family. The old fae wanted them to be close should misfortune fall upon him and leave Malleus without a proper guardian.

But Malleus was his mother's son…

Haughty, arrogant, and beautiful. He looked down on nearly everyone around him, deeming them weak and powerless against his steadily growing might. He skipped his lessons; half from his naturally absent-minded nature, mostly because he felt too good to listen to weaker fae try to teach him.

So introducing a magicless girl nearly five years younger as his equal did not go well…

Since their first playdate and Malleus had stomped back into the palace covered in mud, furious, he had simply despised the Crowley child. Yuu had merely giggled and asked to play with Malleus again, saying he was funny and she liked him. To this day, Lilia wasn't sure why Malleus had been covered in mud nor why he seemed to detest Yuu so much so quickly…He refused to repeat what happened and it only sent Yuu into a fit of laughter whenever asked. He wondered if he should have used his magic to see what had caused the issue when he still had the chance…

He sighed, picking the letter up and ignoring the servant's flinching when his hand drew near. Studying it, he marveled, it really was unopened. A part of him felt the claws of dread slowly wrap around his heart, his fears becoming realized before his eyes. Had Yuu finally had enough? Were two years of verbal abuse what caused the young girl to open her eyes to Malleus’s mistreatment and simply not return.

Turning away, he dismissed the servant and bit his lip again. Malleus didn't have other playmates. Malleus, like his mother, was feared by his subjects. A fact that made companionship more difficult than Lilia wished it would be. He wondered if he should visit the Crowley duchy, slip a tonic from the royal infirmary to have the girl healed in time for the party-

“Lilia, Silver's fallen asleep again.”

Lilia looked to the doorway, his worries melting off his shoulders at the heartwarming scene.

While Malleus had created a type of feud with the Crowley girl, he completely adored Silver; claiming the boy as his brother since he first saw him sleeping in his bassinet. They stood in the opened doorway, Malleus in a more informal attire and cradling Silver to his front. The silver-haired nine-year-old fast asleep in the prince's arms releasing angelic snores.

Sighing, Lilia held his free arm out with a small smile, “Bring him here, I will watch him while you finish your studies.”

Passing the sleeping child over, Malleus scoffed under his breath and rolled his eyes, “Studies. I have no need…” His eyes catch the glint of silver in Lilia’s hand, “What is that?”

Lilia didn’t have a chance to answer, Malleus reaching up and snatching the letter out of his guardian’s hands. Huffing, Lilia used his now free hand to properly hold Silver, “We’ve been over this; don’t snatch things from people-”

“Is this…Yuu’s invitation?” Malleus stares at the envelope, turning it over in his hands and becoming bewildered as he notices it wasn’t even opened, “Have you…Not sent this to the Crowley’s Duchy yet…?” His party was only a week away and the grand duchy was at least half a day’s journey away.

“…” Sighing, Lilia turned away from Malleus’s inquisitive eyes, “The invitation was returned unopened. Word is that the young lady Crowley is ill and unable to attend…”

Malleus stood in silence, staring at Lilia’s back before looking down at the letter in his hand, “Oh…” With a smile, he flicked the letter past Lilia and sent it directly into the lit fireplace.

“Malleus!” Lilia watched the letter burn, flaring green in a flash as the wax melted into the flames. Turning around he tried to pin a glare at the giddy preteen, “Why would you do that!?”

With a shrug, Malleus turned around with a smile. Wiping his hands of the situation as though he had easily solved all his problems, “There’s no need for it. She’s ill, isn’t she? Plus, they returned the invite. It’s within my right to do with it as I will.” He clapped his hands together as his thoughts ran wild, the very promise of Yuu not attending his party making him more and more excited for the event, “This shall be my most wonderful birthday yet! Maybe I will be just as lucky next year and she’ll still be ill.”

Lilia could only frown as Malleus laughed, walking out of the room. While Lilia hoped the young prince would go to his lessons, he knew he was more than likely heading toward the gardens or to his growing horde room. Sighing, the bi-colored fae looks down to his sleeping child. It would all be much easier if he just placed Silver as the prince’s playmate. Malleus adored Silver, but Silver was quiet. Silver was so quiet. A fact that would only echo in this massive palace as the years go on. Lilia could only hope that he’d find a cure for whatever sleep curse affected his boy. Maybe Silver could be the bridge between the two; a thesaurus for two similar yet wildly different languages.

He hoped that Malleus wouldn’t be too upset on the day of his party.

The servants would say the day of Malleus's party was divine. Not a tantrum, eye-roll, nor threat of permanent dismissal in sight. He allowed himself to be dressed easily in his outfit, black silks and furs, precious gems stitched to mimic the night sky their lands were famous for and a winding silver banded crown. Malleus looked like a prince of the infamous Noctorn Empire and he was excited.

He had talked Lilia and Silver's ears off at breakfast; his plans to speak to everyone for once since Yuu wouldn't be attached to his side and babbling nonstop. He didn't notice the concerned look in Lilia's eyes when he'd excused himself to use the emergency phone. Lilia called the Crowley duchy directly to ask if they were truly not attending the party. Crewel merely stating they had sent their gifts and wished Malleus a happy birthday in their absence. Yuu hadn't even been heard over the call.

As the beginning of the event drew closer, Lilia felt his nerves worsen, as if a looming threat was breathing down his neck and waiting to strike. A feeling that only grew stronger as Silver lost his fight with wakefulness, falling asleep a little after the first few guests started to populate the entry hall. Lilia had gathered the deadweight child into his arms, tasking Malleus to greet the guests alone while he placed Silver in a more docile environment until he woke up.

Malleus tried, he truly did. He spoke aloud and clearly as Lilia had always instructed him, head held high so that his chin and the ground were two parallel lines. He tried to shake people's hands, growing frustrated as they refused to release the brightly wrapped gifts to do such a thing. After the 6th awkward shuffle away from his outstretched hands he simply elected to not shake anymore of the lord's hands. After the 15th nervous and stuttered hello, he stopped greeting them too.

He huffed, mildly pouting as he left the entry hall, walking toward the guarded room that held his mountain of presents; gifts to be opened and cataloged once all the guests had left. Greeting people alone wasn't as fun as he imagined it would be. It would have been easier if Lilia hadn't left to tend to Silver. Lilia was a social creature in such a way that Malleus never understood, neither him nor Yuu made sense to him as to how they got people to respond so easily to them. But then again, the very thought of Yuu beside him and greeting everyone in his place made him more frustrated. The sight of her gift, as always wrapped in black and white with a bright green bow, only worsened his mood.

Slamming his hand into the brick, leaving behind Cracks and a medium-sized indent he made the choice to enter the banquet hall. (Unaware of the few cowering party guests slowly backing away from him).

The room was filled with people, fine fabrics swishing around the room in elegant dances. Looking around his enthusiasm dipped again. There were so many adults more than children his age, adults that would only give him a half glance and a respectful bow. Malleus walked along the edges of crowds, trying to see if any conversation piqued his interest or if any of the adults would glance his way to wish him a happy birthday. He received plenty of quick bows, long-winded birthday blessings with his full title. A few had even tried to start a conversation, beginning with a comment on their relation to his mother or father. Only to suck their mouths in like they had tasted the worst type of lemon flavor, remembering he never meant his mother nor his father. From there they would bow again and turn to scamper away into a crowd, leaving him alone again.

Just as he began to wonder just where Lilia was placing Silver, he saw someone who made his hopes relight. Another child his age was standing by a window, looking out the large stained glass with an air of boredom around him. They were a noble of origin from outside the empire, their clothing was brightly colored and heavily patterned. A crown of beads and braids kept dark brown hair neat yet wild, a pair of small, round lion ears peaking through. The hint of brown skin visible from the edge of their loose sleeves and crossed arms.

Gathering a bit of courage, swallowing to wet his mouth, Malleus walked forward. He smiled and tilted his head, tapping the other on the shoulder to gain his attention, “Hello. Are you enjoying the party?”

The other boy seemed to startle, almost as if he had planned on being invisible for hours more and Malleus's acknowledgement broke his trance. The boy turned to him, showing his face was marred over one eye with a long thin scar, the bright emerald green slightly duller than the other.

Once he saw who was speaking to him, he frowned. Turning away and looking at Malleus from the corner of his brighter eye as though he was a bug, “Go away.” Short, simple, and sour.

Malleus startled himself. No one had…ever dismissed him in such a way. Even when Lilia sent him away to his own devices, He said as such with an air of teasing, jovial. This…this was just rude. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped into the other boy's line of sight when he fully turned away, “Why should I? You are aware this is my birthday party, aren’t you? You should feel honored that I'm speaking to you.”

The boy scoffs, facing him directly and placing his hands on his hips. Smug, arrogant; he wasn't taller by any means but it felt as though he was looking down his nose at him, “Why would I feel honored being spoken to by a lizard?”

“…” Lightning flashed outside, bringing the already soft ambiance into a fearful silence, “A LIZARD!?” YOU DARE CALL ME A LIZARD!?”

“A lizard who throws tantrums at that.”

“Leona!” Two older men quickly rush over, looking similar to ‘Leona’ with their attire, ears, and, face yet more alike each other with their matching bold red hair. The shorter, younger man had gripped Leona by the shoulders, trying to force the boy into a bow, “Apologize! You promised you'd behave tonight!”

The older man, his red hair streaked with thin yet vivid lines of grey bowed, “A thousand apologies, Your Highness. Please forgive my youngest son. He is still recovering from an injury you see-”

“I don't care about excuses!” Malleus glared, stomping his foot as the lightning flashing again and sent the room into spasms of eerie green light. He pointed toward the scowling Leona, “He called me a lizard!”

“Malleus, lower your tone. You are among company.” Lilia walked over, placing a hand onto his charge’s shoulder and pulling him back as a physical reminder to calm down, “What's happened here?”

“It seems my son-”

Scoffing loudly, Leona rolled his head back and spoke aloud, “I called the stupid lizard, a lizard and he threw a fit over it.”

“Leona.” The younger man strained, shaking Leona by his shoulders in an effort to physically shake the sense into him.

Lilia frowned, looking down his nose at the defiant child with lidded eyes, “That's rather rude don't you think?” He looked from the corner of his eye, catching the eldest man's gaze, “Duke Kingscholar. I wasn't aware you were raising such…brazen children...”

The duke's bow seemed to deepen, “Truly, I offer apologies for every star in the sky. My youngest is recovering from an injury and fever. He isn't thinking clearly-”

The eldest brother leaned down, whispering to the sour-faced child while their father tried to save face with Lilia, “Leona, apologize. Dad's gonna make you sit in the carriage again if you don't-”

“Fine then! I didn't want to come to this dumb party anyway!”

The duke sprang up, his face furious as he rounded on his youngest son, “LEONA!”

Malleus could feel the lightning crackle outside, the bolts dancing along the sealed windows in eagerness to strike Leona down, “How…dare you!? My birthday party is the highest honor any could hope to attend, and you stand here, wasting it and calling my wrath!”

Leona scoffed, rolling his eyes before leveling Malleus with an almost arctic glare, “Who'd consider it an honor to attend a party of someone they don't even like?”

The eldest boy tried to pull his brother back, worry on his face as the lights along the wall started to flash and flicker with the green electricity struggling to breach the walls, “Leona. Enough.”

Malleus glared back, eyes almost glowing from his rage, “I don't care if you like me or not. I am your prince and you will respect me!”

Leona lets out a loud and sharp laugh, shaking himself free of his brother's hands to step closer to Malleus, “I don't respect you and I don't like you. No one does.”

“That's…That's A lie! People like me!”

“Oh, look around!” Leona gestures his arms out, only continuing when Malleus makes small cautious glances around the room, “No one here likes you, they're all afraid of you! And you're too stupid to see it, you pompous motherfuc-”

Leona was all but snatched into the air, his older brother holding his body in one arm while the other pressed tightly to his mouth. He bowed, a mumble of his brother not feeling well before he quickly absconded from the area.

Duke Kingscholar sighed, offering one last apology and a birthday blessing before he followed his sons out.

Malleus watched them leave along with everyone else. And once the Kingscholars had left he looked around the room once more, a new feeling of a sinking stone growing heavier and heavier. No one would meet his eyes, nothing past an accidental glance before quickly bowing. No one other than Lilia came to his defense, every last guest letting him be berated and mocked by a spare. And for what? To stand at the edge of their tif and cower? To…to look at him with fearful eyes?

Only once the Kingscholars left did he realize just how far away everyone else was in that moment. How even as the lightning cleared, the storm calming, no one dared approach him. No one dared look him in the eyes.

The party continued, the Kingscholars did not return and Malleus was happy for that at least. Leona was…a form of abrasive that he didn't care to deal with ever again.

He thought this birthday would be amazing, the best of his short eleven years of life. Instead, he spent the night beside Lilia, holding onto his hand and refusing to look up. Not out of any true nervousness or shame. He just…didn't want to see how no one looked his way.

They danced, they had a meal, they had cake. Everyone left after another hour of standing and talking. Were birthday parties always so…boring? Or was it just because it was his 11th birthday? Was it because Silver didn't wake midway through for cake cutting like he normally did? Was it…was it because Yuu wasn't there?

The thought annoyed him. Yuu would have never left him alone if she was there, she never had any other celebration. Clinging onto him to greet guests, chasing him through the halls while the adults spoke and networked. A leeching shadow that no matter where he went, she would worm her way into the same place at some point.

“Malleus?”

The horned fae looked up, a half-asleep Silver holding the signature black and white present out to him, “Do you want me to have Yuu's present again this year? Father said she didn't come…”

“…” Sighing, Malleus took the gift from Silver's hands, ripping the paper with an annoyed air to the act, “No. I'll keep it. She's ill; there's no telling what kind of human illness you'll catch from whatever she's coughed on in here.”

Lilia sighed, but didn't speak more. Gathering the wrapping paper of the other gifts Malleus had opened and quickly discarded for not holding his interest. He watched his son yawn, smiling as he pointed to the small table with tea and two thin slices of cake, “Silver, have some tea and cake; it'll wake you up a bit.”

“But, you said I can't have sweets past 9pm?”

“Well, I decided you can today. You normally are awake to have a slice of cake during the party…”

“I know…I'm sorry.”

“Silly boy. There's nothing to apologize for…”

As Malleus looked into the gift box in his hands, the sounds of his guardian and brother faded into the background, equally muffled by the crackling of the fireplace. Inside the present was a pair of oddly knitted tubes. To anyone else, they'd be a pair of hideous mittens for someone who didn't even have hands, but Malleus knew what they really were.

Yuu had asked him, earlier that season when he was again forced to have tea with her, if his horns ever got cold in the Winter. He had glared, telling her to not ask such stupid questions, having no time nor the knowledge to explain that his horns never felt cold in Winter nor hot in Summer and he didn't know why. An answer that seemed to have not satisfied the annoying girl, since she had made and gifted him a pair of unseemly horn warmers.

He held them in his hands, the knots sloppy yet tight. The pattern was off and he's certain there were two different shades of green in the same area. They were ugly, plain and simple. But they were something other than a grotesque or a gargoyle cruelly ripped from their post. Useless, priceless gems he had no need for or the rare foolish gift of iron weapons and accessories. The black yarn was too thick, almost swallowing the designs made with the green yarn. Both colors pressed so close that the black seemed greenish in the right light.

Just as Yuu's eyes would.

He knew the Crowley girl's eyes were black, a brown so dark and deep that they mimicked a starless new moon sky mixed with the dying breath of a sunset. But when…when she looked him in the eyes…they almost seemed to leech the green from his own.

“…Lilia.” A beat of silence before the older fae gave a questioning hum, “Yuu's been sick before right?”

“…” Lilia perks up, turning to face Malleus directly as he notices he had opened Yuu’s present, “…Um…yes, a few times before. Why do you ask?”

“…Does…does she feel better soon? She isn’t sick for long, right?”

“…” Lilia smiles, stepping closer and ruffling the hair in the space between Malleus’s horns with a giggle, “I'm sure she will better quicker than you expect! Your little friend will be right as rain and back in the palace for playdates before you know it!”

Malleus pouts, slapping his guardian’s hands away and trying to smooth his ruffled hair. The woolen tubes in his hands not helping in the slightest as they only made his hair more frizzy, “I don’t want her back here! I just don’t want to hear about the bothersome thing dying!” He stands, forgoing his other presents but keeping the ugly warmers locked in his grasp unknowingly, “I’m going to bed! Even when she isn’t around, she manages to ruin everything…”

Floating, Lilia flipped himself upside down, pinching at a furious Malleus’s cheek, “Aw~! You do like her!”

“NO! I DON’T!”

[zepskies]

The Boys S4: Is it just me or...

Okay, anyone who knows me knows I love this show. And I don't mean to be overly critical, but...there's something missing for me in season 4. 🤔

Episode 4 brought me back in a bit more this week, but I have thoughts and just wanted to get them out. Which of course you don't have to agree with, if you so choose to dive below the cut. 😂

So here we go! Highlights and lowlights (and **spoilers**): ⤵️

Sorry in advance for my slightly stream of conscious-style thought process.

Lowlights (so far):

Kimiko x Frenchie: Violently pushing down something you built up for 2.75 seasons? Because "being more than that/family" can also be romantic? Why do you hate the fans, Kripke? 😂

The political "satire" is getting a bit old for me. A lot of the same jokes over and over. However, the problem of taking out Victoria Neuman is a very intriguing conundrum (and Bob Singer sweating over it while trying to keep supes out of the military/law enforcement is keeping me hooked).

THAT Rob scene: lmfao come on now. This was for gross shock value and nothing else. Even the exploding dick and Love Sausage in S3 served a narrative purpose. (But I enjoyed the footnote commentary while watching it on Prime: Rob B. apparently wants to remind everyone that he's a Shakespearean-trained actor. 🤣) I’m actually more disappointed that he didn’t have a more meaningful role in the show, because he really is a fantastic actor and I was looking forward to seeing what his character would bring. (Not that lmao.)

Overall, the season just feels...emptier than seasons 1-3? Maybe that has to do with the lack of Soldier Boy's gravitas as a new antagonist, and connecting the entire narrative and various conflicts of the season -- all while shedding light on the grisly past of Payback, Grace Mallory, and Stan Edgar. Stormfront also brought that ante up in season 2 in a similar way, all while shedding light on Vought's sordid history with the creation of Compound V.

We're missing the layers here in season 4. Now, this could just be because we haven't seen the full season yet as well, but that's what I see so far.

I think it also has to do with the odd dynamic the boys side is in right now. With Butcher on the fringe of the group, and the others splintered off on their own side plots, it feels like the supes' side of things are more...for lack of a better term, "unified" in the narrative.

Which I realize is probably to reverse parallel the state of each side in season 3. But it just feels "off" to me somehow, since we're supposed to be just as invested in the boys side lol.

Highlights:

Butcher and Ryan: Butcher's doing his best there now, and it soothes my heart.

Ryan's slowly seeing the consequences of his choice to join Homelander. In fact, I'm wondering where Ryan is in episode 4. Hiding in his room?

The Khan Worm that appears to be inside Butcher is both frightening and intriguing. I wonder if this is the key to saving his life? Or just another lovely side effect of taking V24 long term. 🐛

JDM (Joe) and Butcher: All their scenes were golden. And that subtle John Winchester reference? Being willing to train up his son to be a killer? Being able to grieve at his son's funeral, knowing he "saved the world?" *Chef's kiss* 🤌🏽

(And if Butcher or Joe end up being the one to break Soldier Boy out of his cryo coffin, my fangirl heart will freak TF out. 🤣)

The way that Homelander is noticing his age is fucking hilarious. Bet you wish you had that life longevity from your father/sperm donor, dont'cha? 😂

But also the way Homelander "confronted" his past in E4 had some truly WTF/Holy Shit™️ moments, in a good way. As in, I'm once again afraid of this unhinged psychopath--kind of way. 😅

A-Train continuing to struggle internally with the place he's fought so hard to keep in the Seven, versus recognizing the evil around him, his own complicity, wanting forgiveness from Hughie, and wanting a true connection with others (namely his family).

It's interesting that Hughie's mom is being brought back in at this time. And even MORE interesting that she seems to be the one who gave her ex-husband Compound V. Her story of why she left her family seemed so normal that I actually got a little suspicious of her. But now, even more so. 🤨

M.M. doing his fucking best. (Except for the way he suddenly had a change of heart about Butcher in E4. Not sure about that one.)

Tilda effing Swinton voicing Ambrosius. PLEASE. My Queen. 😭🤣🤣

I actually had more lowlights before I watched episode 4. There were some really interesting moments that literally had me gasping in shock (this time in a good way), more so than in the first 3 episodes. However, I still think seasons 1-3 were stronger from the get-go.

But even with my lingering reservations, now I'm actually more so looking forward to getting into the meat of the season in this second-half coming up. 👏🏽