#but still said But It’s Not Like I Won’t Still Come Over

[readwritealldayallnight]

Saw the post of you asking if we had any tropes or ideas we wanted to see u talk abt and jumped for joy 🙏 … must ask . Do u have any thoughts on ghost finding out reader is pregnant 😋😋

I like to think Ghost starts having suspicions before you do

Wrapped around each other’s bodies, limbs tangled in the sheets as you sleep peacefully with your other half by your side, he’s never not holding at least one of your boobs in his warm calloused palms. You start to wake up with complaints about how sore they are however, his hands in complete agreement with his eyes; your tits have gotten bigger.

And though he hates to see how uncomfortable they have you feeling all of a sudden, and how you whine so cutely about how you need new bras, your cleavage spilling out of your cups, he’s finding it rather difficult not to appreciate the new view.

Next though, he’s noticing how strange it is that foods you usually loved, now have you crinkling your nose up in disgust, turning your face away from the smell, or worse, that one time you ran to the bathroom to spill the contents of your stomach, utterly repulsed by a certain odor.

But he forgets that you haven’t requested Chinese food in nearly a month when instead he’s trying to wrap his mind around how you want peanut butter and jelly on a cheeseburger.

He certainly doesn’t think twice about how you’re just tad bit friskier than usual, pinching his ass and trying to jump his bones more often. There’s never been a lack of intimacy or wanting the other in your relationship, but you seem nearly insatiable recently, using and abusing his fingers, his mouth, his dick, multiple times a day. There are no complaints on his end, your man always being borderline desperate for you.

It’s when he’s been away for work for the last two weeks and he’s walking back into the house and he sees you, that his eyes cannot deny the way you’re simply glowing. Radiating effortless beauty in a way he’s never seen before, which is saying a lot considering you knock the breath out of him every time he’s lucky enough to see even just your shadow.

You look so soft, so sweet, so perfectly his.

He’s searching for a cloth to warm up under the faucet, preparing to clean up the mess he’s just made of you in bed over the last few hours, when his eyes land on the unopened box of tampons under the bathroom sink. His mind starts quickly doing the math, believing that in theory you should have had to open this pack by now, when things begin to click for him.

Laying naked on your back atop the messy sheets, still catching your breath and coming back down to earth after the many times Simon brought you to bliss tonight, you’re admittedly confused when he comes back into the bedroom without the towel he said he was going to get. You’re even more caught off guard when he approaches you and lays two hands on the sides of your stomach, face approaching your abdomen with an expression of concentration on his face.

“Si what are you-”

“Love, I think you’re pregnant.”

He’s lucky you’ve been having the same suspicion for a few days now, waiting for him to take an actual test and find out, otherwise you might be smacking him upside the head right about now.

Once you do take the test however and confirm what he already felt sure of, that he had put a baby in you, he’s asking you why it isn’t appropriate to tape it to the living room wall for everyone to see, elated to share the news with those in your lives, meanwhile you’ve just decided he won’t be helping decorate the nursery, beyond building furniture.

[thelov3lybookworm]

My World

Day 1: Cool quiet.

Summary: Y/n's in labour. Azriel needs to stay calm.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 805

Warnings: labour ig? azzie being scared and sad cus yn is in pain :(

A/n: HAPPY DAY 1 OF @azrielappreciationweek YALL WOOHOOOO 🥳

all fics in the week will be like a series cus theyre all revolving around azzie and his daughter hehe but it isnt a series ig?

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Rhysand did not see the shift in his spymaster. Did not see the way he stiffened, the way his eyes went distant before focusing again, fist clenched.

He said no words, nothing to indicate he knew his mate was going into labour. And if the meeting with Keir had not ended when it had and Azriel hadn’t immediately winnowed away without preamble, Rhys wouldn’t have even known.

Even when Rhysand and Cassian followed their brother to his house on the outskirts of Velaris, welcomed by agonising screams of Azriel’s mate, Rhysand saw him stand quietly in the hallway.

Rhysand could not fathom being that cool, that quiet if he knew Feyre was in labour.

He had to give it to Azriel, the male was great at hiding his weaknesses. And Rhysand would have been convinced he was still composed had he not seen that in the dark corridor, light glinted off of the tears rolling down his cheeks.

Azriel still did not move, standing still against the wall with his hands folded behind his back.

It shook Rhys more than him pacing and losing his mind would have.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel’s pov.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to curse himself out loud. After all, he was the reason his darling mate was going through the pain of birth.

Should’ve resisted when she said she wanted kids.

But alas, it was now too late to do anything but stand here helpless as he heard her loud cries of pain from their bedroom.

"I- Azriel! Az-"

It took all Azriel had in him to stand outside while his mate, his wife went through unbearable pain he knew he could not even fathom of. Having your privates stretched while you had to push out a literal being was something he knew his worst wounds would look like paper cuts in comparison.

It made him respect females more at the moment.

Through the bond, he felt flashes of hot agony and cold pain, but he was aware it was nothing, nothing compared to what his mate was going through.

The door opened the slightest bit, the worried eyes of an apprentice healer peeking out. "Spymaster? Madja said you can come in to soothe your mate."

Instantly, Azriel was hurrying inside the room, his eyes finding his mate lying on the bed.

Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.

But how could he, seeing as the one person he could ruin the world for, was sobbing, tears running down her face in constant streams, aided by the sweat gathering on her skin?

He hurried over to her side, her palm instantly finding his.

"My love, I’m here."

She gasped in pain, nails digging into his palm.

Cool. Stay cool. It will be fine.

"Just one more push dear, then you can rest."

Azriel turned his head to Madja when she said that, relief spreading through his veins. At least the torture Y/n was going through would be over soon.

Y/n nodded, meeting Azriel’s eyes. Even while she was pushing out their baby, she found it in herself to offer him a weak smile.

Be calm.

Not even a moment after Y/n dropped back down on the bed with an exhausted sigh, loud cries filled the room. Azriel leaned down, placing his forehead against his mate’s. She smiled up at him, her eyes tired.

"No more babies. Y/n, I’m telling you, I cannot see you in pain."

Y/n had the audacity to pout. "But what if our baby gets lonely?"

He shook his head, kissing Y/n’s cheek. "I won’t let them get lonely."

He straightened when he heard footsteps approaching, lifting his head to look at Madja, who grinned at them over the baby’s head. "It’s a daughter."

Tears gathered in Azriel’s eyes as Madja leaned down, his daughter’s face coming into view for the first time. Azriel could not look away.

She’s beautiful.

Her eyes are so pretty.

She stared back at him with wide eyes.

Don’t cry. Stay calm. Stay quiet.

Fuck calm. Fuck quiet.

He let the tears fall as Y/n placed a hand on his arm, telling him to take his daughter. And even though he did not want to taint the pure soul made of him and his beloved, he extended his arms. Y/n had had the time of months to scold and train Azriel to not be scared of his own child.

The moment Madja stepped out of their room, Azriel let out an involuntary sob, accompanied by a look in his mate’s direction, who was crying too.

"I love her so much."

She nodded, giggling. "Me too." After a pause, she continued. "Hazel. That’s what we decided."

He nodded, unable to look away as he leaned down to press his lips to her tiny forehead.

"My world."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[darktrashsoulbear]

Exploring Local Treasures

Ewan Mitchell x new girlfriend!reader

Summary: Ewan takes his new girlfriend on a tour of his hometown Derby, on her insistence, and scrambles to find things to do while also just being so incredibly in love.

This was a request sent in by the lovely Freyja @endless-ineffabilities who persuaded me to share a fic that showcased my insider knowledge of Derby!

Actors Masterlist

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2019

A big thank you to @gwaynesprincess for beta reading this!

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

A/N: The rucksack is filled with your favourite drinks and snacks as well as extra hair bobbles and his own shopping bags to carry whatever the two of you collect during the day!

The sun was nowhere to be seen, instead the sky was littered with grey clouds and the odd pigeon here and there. Many would describe it as bleak, a fitting description for his location. The streets of the city centre were filled with the sounds of construction which would make you think perhaps it’s preparing for the upcoming Christmas Markets, wrong. There aren’t any Christmas Markets over here, only an ice rink if you’re lucky that year. With a grimace plastered across his face he sighed “I still have no idea why you’d want a tour of this place, love, there’s nothing to see. How about I take you to Nottingham tomorrow where they actually do have a Christmas Market hm?”

“Ewan, babe, I’ve come here to see where you grew up which is right here in Derby not half an hour away in Nottingham!” she refuted, eagerly dragging him along – to where, she wasn’t sure.

“Darling, there’s really nothing to see here, only a few pubs and there’s a decent milkshake place over there,” he fired back ready to head back to the lifts to the car park.

Grinning she manoeuvred herself, so she was before him, walking backwards, dragging him by both hands, “excellent, I’m absolutely parched and besides, aren’t you supposed to be calling me duck here baby?”

Letting out yet another sigh, Ewan resigned himself to his fate and a day of boredom before finally giving in and walking with his girl, pulling out his wallet “unless you’d like for us to get the attention of every girl within earshot then I won’t be calling you duck, my love its almost too common here”

“What and my love isn’t,” she teased leaning in to peck him on the cheek and he quickly took the chance to turn his head, earning himself a peck on the lips promptly followed by a reprimanding pat on the chest.

As they ordered their milkshakes Ewan racked his brain on what on earth he was going to do and how he was expected to provide an entertaining day when it was only three o’clock. Don’t get him wrong, Ewan didn’t hate Derby, but he had long made peace with the fact that it offered very little in terms of entertainment when compared to other bigger cities – sure there were still bowling alleys, escape rooms and a pub on every corner but that’s not exactly revolutionary anymore. This usually suited Ewan just fine when he came home from long shoots away from home and all he wanted was the comfort of doing mostly nothing but in this circumstance, it was a nightmare. Because this was her, his girl, the one. Yes, they had only been together for a few months, but things were going great, phenomenally even. She ticked every box of his and every night he’d send a prayer up to the sky that she felt the same about him. They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ yet but he sure as hell felt it and if the way she looked at him was any inclination, then she did too. Which is why he wanted today to be perfect, he had to say it today – he feared he would combust if he didn’t.

His thoughts were interrupted by another soft tug on this hand as his girl led him over to collect their milkshakes, hers a combination of white chocolate and raspberry and his, a plain dairy milk – he was far too preoccupied to be adventurous today. After checking yet again that she was absolutely sure she wanted to stay, he reluctantly led her towards the pub that was a favourite of his brothers and had become the go to pub ever since he’d first been taken their by his parents when he was twelve ‘The Bless”, ensuring he went the long way to give them enough time for them to drink their milkshake, and for her to change her mind.

Stepping into the warmth of the pub after walking around the city centre was welcomed but he received it with a hint of annoyance due to it meaning that his girl unfurled herself from her position wrapped around his arm, body pressed against his. Although the blinding grin she flashed him as they walked to an available table in a corner towards the back made up for it, her opting to sit next to him on the booth, body leaning against his rather than on the chair opposite certainly did. The pub was relatively quiet due to it being a random Wednesday at three-thirty which Ewan was thankful for as it meant he was able to bury his face in the crook of her neck, lips brushing against her skin as he responded to her questions without any shame.

Their drinks arrived, a water for his darling and an apple juice for him – a decision made after he advised her that it may be best to stay completely sober for what he has planned later, to which she excitedly probed him with questions and general triumphant remarks at her getting him to co-operate. As they sipped their drinks and made general conversation – gossiped – about anything and everything, Ewan couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous girl next to him, glancing over the eyes he so easily finds himself getting lost in, the slope of her nose and the lips that entice him in without even realising. He glances down to where her body meets his, one arm wrapped around his waist while the other switches between taking sips of her drink and wrapping around his, fingers dancing across his own as she plays with the cool metal of the ring on one of his digits.

“So, then I looked at her like yeah, I completely get it but honestly I have no idea what she was talking... mmph,” she was abruptly cut off by Ewan’s lips finding home and colliding with hers. After recovering from her shock, she eagerly responded thankful for the booth standing tall and curling around them as the arm Ewan wrapped around her shoulders tightened and near enough pulled her onto his lap. Believing she’d indulged him enough, his love pulled away as his hand had begun to snake its way up her soft brown knitted sweater.

Between refilling her lungs with air, she wondered where that had come from, his response came with a smirk that painted his angular face “well if you agree to end our little excursion, I’d be happy to give you the full package.”

To which she responded with a breathy laugh and a simple “as if I wouldn’t get it anyway”, rendering him momentarily speechless – because she wasn’t wrong – and she used the opportunity to pull him up by the lapels of his green coat, perfect for the chill in the air, and guided him back outside before demanding he take her to the next place.

With the thousandth sigh of the day, he did just that wrapping his arm around her waist this time and guiding her back into the centre’s main building to the car park, when he quickly explained they’d have to drive to the next location to narrowly avoid the shove coming his way as she believed he was yet again hoping to end their fun early. Reluctantly she agreed to get in the car but not before making him pinkie promise he wasn’t lying.

As Ewan parked up in what he can only assume is an actual parking spot – the car park was so run down he couldn’t really be sure – he took a quick look around, due to the fact that while this was shared between the ‘Rollerworld’ and the Indian restaurant next door ‘Slice of India’ that was its secondary use especially now that it had started getting dark sooner this time of year. With a light jog, he made his way around the front of the car to open the door for his love before she could even think about doing it herself – chivalry to him was not dead – and he happily accepted the “Cheers, Mitchell” and peck on the cheek, that actually landed on his cheek, he got in return.

Grasping her hand in his own (more like engulfing) he quickly led her around from the back of the building where the car park is to the front entrance, making quick work of paying for their entry before making their way up the steps that were far too steep to have a place so close to where people are roller skating. After giving their sizes to the guy behind the counter, Ewan and his love took a chance to survey the place. He again is thankful that it is a Wednesday and its less busy meaning fewer kids for him to accidentally run over or trample, he looks back over at her and sees she’s yet again grinning from ear to ear and has decided that while this certainly wasn’t how he’d have initially opted to spend the day, every second was worth it to see her so happy and he hopes she looks at him that way every day for the rest of their lives.

He was yet again snapped out of his musings by her dragging him over to the seats to put the skates on practically vibrating with excitement and he takes a moment to hope that his lack of roller skating over the past few years doesn’t catch up to him. Which, of course, it did. Multiple times. Any time he believed he had it, the universe sniggered and proved that he, in fact, did not. He wishes he was able to say that it was made worth it by his sweet girl being there aiding and reassuring him but well, if you looked at her any time he was reacquainted with the floor it would seem as though she had front row tickets to a Ricky Gervais comedy show – although she at least had the decency to attempt to ask if he was alright through her cackles.

Eventually, his legs started co-operating, his girl no longer laughed at him (mostly due to the pain her stomach was in for laughing all that time) and they embarked on a shared rhythm around the rink. Neither would admit to it under questioning due to the major cliché of it all, but they did indeed hold hands as they went – once she was sure he wouldn’t drag her down with him. About an hour after their arrival, they both gravitated towards the exit of the rink deciding to grab food on their way back home. As they debated where to go once they’d walked down the too steep stairs, Ewan suggested just popping over to the Indian buffet next door with the promise that the Chinese styled noodles were to die for. This caused her to softly chuckle while looking up at him through her lashes teasing about how “out of everything at the Indian food buffet his highlight was a different cuisine” and just as he was about to defend himself, he looked down at her. Really looked. He looked at the way she looked at him with the softest gaze he’d ever seen, the way she lightly bit her lip while waiting for a response and at the way the hints of her beautiful smile remained in her eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself.

He dipped his head making direct eye contact and said the easiest three words of his life. Her face went from shocked, to happy, to elated as she responded with an “I love you” of her own in earnest. The tension that he didn’t even realise was there escaped his shoulders as he grasped the lapels of his own green coat wrapped around her and met her lips in a kiss that had him seeing spots of white behind his eyelids. A minute or five later, they pulled away from one another, took each other’s hands and walked into the restaurant, where the Chinese style noodles were indeed to die for.

Notes:

As I've said, likes, comments and reblogs are so appreciated

As is constructive criticism, this is my first time writing so some kind pointers are welcome!

Thank you so much for reading!

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra VII

Read Neighbors here | ~1.8k words

From me: surprise! This has been in my drafts since I finished the original storyline

Warnings: none

Summary: It's the first s'mores fire of the summer. She and Harry are in love with their little life. And Rory hates lying.

“Hey lad,” Harry said. They were sitting on the couch watching the latest Disney movie that Rory had been asking to watch. Harry paused it and Rory looked at Harry curiously. He wondered if he forgot to put his shoes away or a different chore that Mumma asked before she left to see his Auntie. “D’you remember when y’went to the hospital cause y’were sick... and we ate pancakes the next morning?”

“I remember. Mumma made chocolate milk,” he nodded.

“Right,” Harry chuckled. The real highlight of that morning it seemed. “Do y’remember me asking if I could date, Mummy?”

He thought for a moment and nodded. For Rory, that was a weird question when it was asked. But he didn’t think too much of it in itself because he was little. Also, Harry was his best friend, so he didn’t really mind because it just meant he got to play with Harry more often. “Yeah, I remember.”

Harry smiled, took a deep breath. “Do y’think you’d be okay with me marrying Mummy?”

“What’s that? Like have Christmas with Mumma?” his little brow puckered together. “We already do that Harry, silly.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. Rory was the cutest thing in the entire world. “That’s merry with an e, lad. I said marry with an a. D’you know what marry means?”

He shook his head. “I hearded it once in a movie.”

Harry smiled and looked at his hands a moment before he looked up at the now six-year-old. “I ask Mummy if she wants t’marry me and if she says yes, I have t’give Mummy a ring t’put on her finger. And then we would have a big party.”

“I like parties,” Rory smiled impishly nodding his head.

Harry laughed quietly again and nodded. “Me too. All of our friends and family would come and... well I’d be Mummy’s husband and she’d be my wife.”

Rory knew those words from kindergarten. His teacher had a husband. “Wouldn’t you be my dad, then?”

Swallowing nervously, Harry nodded. He was wondering if Rory would think about that. “Well, yeah, kind of.”

“I thought you already were,” Rory shrugged casually.

Harry chuckled. He could have cried if he wasn’t trying so hard to keep it together. “Well thanks, lad. I kind of think so too. This would make it a bit more real.”

“Would you and Mumma have another baby?”

“Maybe,” Harry smiled. He certainly hoped so.

“I think Mumma would like a girl,” he told Harry. “So then she would have someone to play with like I play with you.”

Harry smiled. “So I can marry her?”

“Does this mean you have to kiss more?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Probably.”

“I still don’t like kissing,” he grumbled.

“I know, lad. We won’t kiss that much in front of you.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “You can marry her. Can we finish the movie?”

Harry pulled Rory into his arms and gave him a huge hug and kissed the top of his head. “I love you, Rory,” Harry said knowingly.

“I love you too, Harry,” he giggled.

*

“Mumma, do we have s’mores stuff?” Rory asked.

“Hmm... let me go look,” she said. “I’ll get some drinks, too. Do you want anything in particular, baby?” She asked looking at Harry.

Harry’s heart warmed at her kindness as always. “M’fine, kitten, thank you.”

“Careful around the fire, boys,” she said as she headed back for the house to look for supplies and drinks. Rory was sitting patiently by the fire while Harry kept an eye on him and the flames. Glancing toward the gate leading out toward the front he saw a single hand wave over top and then a thumbs up.

“Hey lad, d’you remember our conversation from a couple weeks ago? When I asked you if I could marry Mummy?”

He nodded watching the flames. “We’ll have a party, right?”

Harry chuckled. “Yes,” he nodded. “Would y’want t’help me ask Mummy?” He wondered.

He shrugged. “Sure!” He wasn’t doing anything at the moment. Mumma and Harry always said he was a really good helper too.

“Good,” Harry grinned. “M’gonna ask her when she comes back out. D’you think y’can give her this?” He asked, handing him a card from the back of his chair’s pocket compartment. He nodded. “Tell her y’made it at school and y’want to give it to her now,” he winked.

“That’s lying, Harry,” Rory pouted and shook his head. “Mumma doesn’t like lying.”

Shoot. Harry forgot that Rory was the sweetest little boy in the world. “You’re right. S���a little fib, I promise she’ll forgive you. This is the one time.” He wrinkled his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. Rory really wanted to help Harry. But he did not like the idea of lying to Mumma. She would get really mad. “I promise this one is okay,” Harry said again.

Rory sighed and nodded. “Okay... just this once though.”

Harry nodded and crossed over his heart. “Just this once.”

“Alright boys,” she said returning with her arms full, silencing Harry’s prep work. “I have the goods. Are we ready for the first s’mores fire of the summer?” She said wrinkling her nose so cutely as she settled the stuff on the nearby patio table. Harry glanced at the gate once more and then back to her.

“Here, love,” Harry said moving to her side and pressing a hand on her lower back. “Let me,” he smiled. “You sit,” he said pressing a kiss on the side of her head so gently she wondered what that was all about. It was just s’mores. And she liked s’mores. She was good at making them and didn’t mind in the slightest. But it was nice as always for Harry to just do things for her after so many years of having to do everything on her own. Even when he did little things like scooping Rory up from his car seat or carrying the groceries in, it just made everything so much easier for her.

She thought about the month and a half she tried avoiding Harry. It was by far the stupidest thing she had ever done, and she wondered often what would have happened if she never got over her silly fears. But fortunately, she didn’t have to worry long, because Harry was right there, making s’mores for her and Rory like he always did.

“Mumma, I made this in school,” Rory said suddenly pulling her from her thoughts. Rory looked at Harry impishly as he handed the envelope to his mum. Good thing this would be the only lie. He was a little worse for wear on the delivery.

“For me?” She smiled curiously and took the envelope in her fingers. She slid open the top.

“Uh-huh,” Rory giggled sheepishly.

Harry glanced at the gate again and then held his breath as she pulled the card from the envelope. “What’s it say, Mumma?” Rory giggled and if she hadn’t already been reading the words on the card, she would have realized Rory had no part in this little scheme.

She turned suddenly after her eyes scanned the card once and she looked at Harry with wild eyes. “Harry?” She asked nervously.

“Harry said I could lie,” Rory said quickly seeing her discomfort and was worried he would get in trouble. He didn’t like it when Mumma was mad at him. Mumma was the best and didn’t ask Rory to do anything except to not lie. “Just this once,” he promised.

“That’s okay, love bug,” she said softly barely looking at him as she did. Relieved that he wasn’t going to upset Mumma, Rory sat back in his chair and waited for Harry to do whatever it was that he wanted to do.

For once, she ignored Rory. Her eyes stayed on Harry as she felt her heart nearly beat out of her ribs. “What does it say, beautiful?” Harry smiled. His eyes were so gentle.

“It says ‘Life is s’more fun with you, will you spend the rest of it with me?’” She read carefully.

Harry bit his lip. “It is s’more fun with you,” he repeated, and he moved in front of her chair and knelt between the fire and her. “Will you marry me?” It was amazing Harry could be so hopelessly in love with her and have her still be so surprised that she was deserving of love that was so all encompassing, Harry sometimes wondered how he could stay upright.

“Really?” She whispered breathlessly and her eyes darted to Rory so briefly, but Harry still caught it.

Harry chuckled. “Yes, really, you silly, sweet thing,” he rolled his eyes. “M’horribly in love with you and would like t’spend the rest of our lives together,” he repeated. “Please marry me?” He repeated.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus Christ, just say yes!” Her sister’s voice distinctly called from the front gate.

“You brought my sister here?” She asked with a teary giggle.

“Auntie?!” Rory shouted and ran for the gate.

“Um... I brought everyone... I really anticipated you saying ‘yes’ a lot quicker than this,” he chuckled awkwardly. Rory opened the gate, and the entourage of people Harry invited came through the gate. Her eyes lifted to look at them so briefly she barely saw who was in attendance. Her eyes returned to Harry knelt before her waiting expectantly for her answer. “I’ll beg if you want,” he said softly with a grin.

“Mumma, look! Grandma’s here!”

She smiled and waved to her mom standing beside Anne and Gemma who were watching with such happy smiles. “You really want to marry me?” She asked softly. As if no one was in the backyard except her and Harry.

“Very badly,” he nodded, and he pulled the box from his pocket. “Maybe this will help,” he smiled gently. The diamond glittered in the sun so beautifully. Harry was wonderful. He always was and this was no exception. But she closed the box quickly as she answered.

“I’d marry you without it,” she whispered.

He chuckled, shook his head at her. “So that’s a yes?” Harry had never felt so happy. He didn’t think she would say no, but he knew she could convince herself she didn’t deserve happiness if he gave her enough time.

“God, yes,” she nodded and giggled excitedly. She leaned forward as Harry moved toward her as well and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

“You said no kissing!” Rory called.

She laughed against his lips, ignoring her son’s protest and continued kissing Harry. “I’ll love you forever,” she promised.

Harry grinned, nodded, and kissed her again as he mumbled against her lips. “And then some.”

--

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@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

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@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

neighbors taglist: @mopeymousey @vmpellie

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part8. a complete silence rule

MINORS DNI!

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: you and Vi came to library for studying, but she can`t resist touching you

・❥・ genre: smut + kinda friends to lovers

・❥・ word count: 1.9k

✎ warnings: 18+, smut, dom!vi, oral sex, fingering, sex in public place

WHEN I NEEDED YOU masterlist

a week after Vi was discharged from the hospital, she returned to college. she wasn’t allowed to play yet, but she didn’t miss a single practice, even if it just meant warming up with the others and then sitting on the bench to watch. she recovered quickly, but if you hadn’t insisted, she would’ve tried to play on the first day back. the doctor had strictly forbidden it, and you made sure to keep an eye on her. though Vi was eager to return to her normal pace, full recovery required time, as the risks were still too high.

another bit of good news - Troy was no longer on the team or even at college. you saw him clearing out his locker as his parents and security escorted him away. when you asked your dad if he knew anything about it, he simply kissed your forehead and told you not to worry. either way, you didn’t mind; whatever your father had done, it had worked. truth be told, it even scared you a little, but Troy got what he deserved. naturally, all accusations were dropped, and your mom mentioned in confidence that your father had threatened Troy’s family, saying you’d press charges for assault and all the vile things their son had done. it was a relief to finally exhale; for a moment, it even felt like the air without your ex was lighter.

without Troy’s bullying, Josh finally left the team, free from the person who’d tormented him for years. he seemed to have started playing guitar in his garage. but the biggest surprise was that he’d found a partner. according to Trish, they met at the last match and hit it off, though homophobic Troy had always intimidated Josh, and for good reason. long story short, many people in his social circle felt better without him, and you were glad it was over.

after classes, you met Vi in the parking lot. she kissed you on the lips and wrapped her arms around your waist, letting her hands slide lower. smiling mid-kiss, she murmured, “maybe I should transfer to another school”

“and why’s that?” you teased, slipping your hands under her shirt, pushing her jacket aside, and pulling her closer, which made Vi bite your lip.

“I can’t focus on school or anything serious when you walk around looking so gorgeous and tempting,” she said, squeezing your hips and leaning you against the hood of her car.

“I can’t stand my loneliness, especially when you two are kissing so sweetly out here for all to see,” interrupted a voice. it was Trish, standing behind you with her arms crossed. “just a reminder, Vi, that I was the one who first told your new girlfriend how beautiful you are, so both of you owe me”

finally, you and Vi let go of each other and laughed. Vi took your hand and said, “and I’ll be forever grateful to you for it”

“ready to go?” you asked Trish, who was still grinning as she watched the two of you.

“I came to say I won’t be able to make it today. mom’s not feeling well, and I want to stay with her. do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow?” Trish said, looking a little apologetic.

“of course, no problem at all. send her my best and wish her a speedy recovery. if she’d like, I can bring over some of my mom’s special soup; it’s really delicious,” you replied understandingly.

“that would be wonderful. thank you, I’ll text you about tomorrow” Trish gave you a quick hug goodbye before hurrying home.

“where were you two going, and what’s been rescheduled for tomorrow?” Vi asked, curious.

“the library. we have a history test coming up, and Trish and I often go there to focus. there’s a total silence rule, so we can’t gossip or listen to music. it sounds odd, but we get distracted so easily that the library’s our only hope,” you explained.

“want me to go with you?” she looked into your eyes. “unless this is some kind of special friend ritual?”

“no, no, nothing like that, but are you sure you want to sit quietly for an hour with a history book?” you raised an eyebrow at her.

“yes, especially since I have the test too. I’m not playing right now, so the coach won’t be able to get me extra credit for athletic involvement,” Vi said a little sadly, clearly missing her usual active lifestyle. but you weren’t giving in - the doctor’s orders were law, especially for Vi, and she deserved the best care.

“alright, then, let’s go,” you decided to steer the topic away from sports to take her mind off it.

“why an hour, though?” Vi asked, referring to what you had mentioned earlier.

“well, it’s not strict or anything, just a rule Trish and I came up with: an hour of uninterrupted studying, then any break or distraction we want. it’s like a little motivation,” you shrugged with a smile.

“if it’s the rule, then let’s follow it,” Vi said as she opened the passenger door for you and got behind the wheel.

ten minutes later, you arrived. there weren’t many people there, so you took your and Trish’s usual seats near the bookshelves. as you’d told Vi, there was complete silence, only occasionally broken by the sound of turning pages. Vi sat next to you, taking off her jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair. when she turned back, she caught you staring at her hands, biting your lip, which made her smile and raise an eyebrow. you felt a bit embarrassed, but it wasn’t surprising - you never focused on Trish this way, yet with Vi nearby, you realized it might be a little harder to concentrate.

you quickly looked away, pulling out a sheet with the test questions. each question had a list of recommended books to review. pointing out a few titles to Vi, you both set off to find them. the history section had plenty of books, so it took a little time to gather what you needed.

Vi leaned over to you and very quietly asked where she should find a particular book, you pointed to the bottom shelf, and she nodded. running your eyes over the stand with books, you saw that a little higher is hidden a book, the author of which is your teacher, usually it is occupied by someone, but today was a good day. when you reached for her, Vi looked up and was very pleased with what she saw. the length of your skirt gave a good view of your underwear, which made Vi feel incredible desire and attraction. she carefully stood up and slowly ran her hand down your leg from your ankle to your thigh until her fingers were under your skirt. you almost didn't let go of the book from your surprise, your eyes became round and goosebumps ran through your body, you wanted to say something, but Vi only put her index finger to her lips. she took the book and placed it on the shelf, leaving her other hand on your butt, glancing over at you, she smiled at you, desire burning in her eyes, you felt incredibly attracted to her, so you moved a little closer. her lips covered yours, you tasted her as her warm tongue slipped between yours, Vi pulled you closer to you, squeezing your butt tighter, her other hand ending up under your shirt, her thumb gently caressing your skin as her lips kissed you.

she pulled away from you and leaned into your ear, saying “the rule of complete silence, remember?”. her fingers ran up the fabric of your panties under your skirt and she ran her hand down touching you. she smirked when she felt how wet you were, running a finger over your clit you rested your head on her shoulder holding back a moan. every movement seems very slow and you wanted more, you could feel the vibrations going through your body when her finger started stimulating your clit more actively, you held on to her with your hands so you wouldn't fall. she covered you with her lips again and you felt her finger enter you, a wave of pleasure covered your body, you immediately started to move on it, kissing her more passionately, your hips moving and your body getting heavier. she wasn't about to stop, her finger digging into you harder and harder as you struggled to hold back a scream. only the rustle of the books reminded you where you were now, you almost didn't care, you could feel your wetness running on her finger, you were so wet and excited that you didn't care if they could hear you now, you wanted her touch, you wanted to cum from her fingers, you wanted to show her what pleasure she brings you. when her second finger was inside you tightened your grip on her, and Vi sped up as much as possible, your legs were just shaking at this point. Vi's other hand pulled your bra down and squeezed your breasts, you threw your head back and surrendered to the feeling, you came so hard it made your head spin. holding you, she pulled her hand out of your panties and pressed you against the bookshelf, kissing you again. her lips moved to your neck and trailed down.

“what are you doing?” you said almost inaudibly in surprise.

Vi just looked up at you and answered “you said we had an hour”

goosebumps ran down your spine and she returned to your neck again, kneeling, Vi placed your leg over her shoulder and lifted your skirt, putting her index finger to her lips again to keep you quiet.

her fingers gently pulled your panties to the side, and she ran her tongue over your pussy, collecting a mess you had done earlier. your body was so heavy that you grabbed the shelf with one hand to keep from falling. her lips pressed against your wetness, she didn't tease like before, her tongue was immediately inside you, you opened your mouth again in a silent moan and ran a hand into her hair. Vi's hands wrapped around your ass, and she ate you out greedily as you held back a moan. she was sucking your clit and running her tongue which was giving you incredible pleasure, you were moving your hips to ride her face as she explored your most intimate place. the second orgasm didn't take long, you came from her tongue even faster than from her fingers. you didn't have any strength left, but how nice it was. she put your panties back in place and climbed on top of you.

“I see you liked it,” she said teasingly. you just bit your lip and nodded, straightening your skirt.

“maybe next time I can sit on your face properly” you winked at Vi and ran your finger over her lips which were still wet from you.

“no reason to wait, you can still stand so…” Vi smiled and took your things and led you by the hand out of the library to the questioning looks of the others.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Love the not who he seems au!

I've got some(a lot of?) questions if that's alright?

After Ford finally wakes up, you mentioned that Bill watches over the littler twins' dreams, does he do something similar with Stan? do they chat in the Mindscape or anything? does he avoid Stan?

what are(of there are?) the immediate consequences to the relationship between them now that Ford is awake?

Has 'Stanfraud' ever had any interactions with any Unicorn hair?

What would happen if Stanfraud/Bill ever got any on him? Would he have an allergic reaction? Or other ill reactions?

Have the time police ever given Stanfraud/Bill any trouble?

In the 30 years that Stan and Bill have known each other, have they ever saved each other's life? Or gotten protective/defensive for each other?

Alright that's all for now! Bye!

Lots of questions are always alright!

Let’s go through all these:

— He definitely does it with Stan too. He doesn’t really have any reason to avoid Stan, except Ford obviously being against it. But… he won’t tell if Stan won’t. He makes excuses as to why he’s visiting Stan’s dreams so much, which Stan doesn’t comment on, he’s just oddly grateful he’s still around. And bleeding into the next question: this all being said, a few old angers have risen to the surface, seeing how broken down his brother is again, knowing Bill’s behind it, so sometimes their conversations get a little tense and Bill does avoid him for a few days after. Or he doesn’t, and gets a little to pushy, lashing out at Stan.

It doesn’t help that Stan feels some guilt still speaking with Bill because of Ford, and because of how adamant his brother has been about Bill being a threat to them. But, it isn’t as easy as just telling him to go away. He knows for a fact Bill wouldn’t listen. The kids would be upset too. They don’t now the depths of all this stuff.

And, not an immediate consequence, but the new tension will eventually bubble into a very intense argument between Stan and Bill that’ll probably have consequences for everyone.

— You know, I hadn’t quite considered that, but I think so yes! He has negative reactions to anything that works as an ingredient in repellent against him. Unicorn hair, definitely more of an allergic reaction, akin to something like hay fever. But something like Mercury probably burns him.

— I have thought about their being an ‘episode’ where Bill’s rivalry with Time Baby comes up, thanks to Dipper and Mabel messing with time, but I’d need to think more about that to give a proper answer. I don’t think he and Stan have ever been given any trouble prior, being as they haven’t messed with time themselves. Bill might try and get a rise out of any time agents if he spots them though, like Blendin. Just for fun.

— They have absolutely saved each other’s lives and that’s a catalyst in their relationship becoming what it is. This is another thing I need to think more on, but being as Stan didn’t fake his death, unfortunately some of his past comes back to haunt him, with old friends putting two and two together with his fake identities. I’m not sure where that would go yet, but I know Bill would step in and rescue him. Naturally, he claims it’s because he needs Stan to get out of this body, but he isn’t really convincing when he says that. There’s also likely a situation where Bill has gotten himself in danger, and Stan rescues him, but I haven’t settled on that. There’s probably a few more minor instances of them saving each other too.

And yes! They do get protective/defensive over each other. On Stan’s end it’s strange. Initially, he was having to protect Ford’s body from Bill. Bill was the threat. But now, he sometimes finds himself actually protecting Bill… because he’s his friend. He’ll jump to his defence about his behaviours if someone comments on them harshly for example. He’s the only one allowed to give him shit for being weird. And with Bill, he’s gone from trying to rile Stan up, calling him useless, a failure of a brother, to getting riled up himself when someone tries to have a go at Stan instead.

If either got physically hurt, they’d also be protective. They genuinely have each other’s backs. Stan at least has the excuse he’s looking out for his brother’s body, making sure Bill doesn’t damage it any further, and can poke fun at Bill later for not having an excuse.

“Sure you don’t just give a shit about this old ‘bag of flesh’?”

“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself, Fez. Your heart could stop right now and I’d dance over your corpse.”

I realise they’re basically just in a constant game of chicken on who’s going to admit they care out loud first — while sober.

I hope these have been satisfactory! Sorry if there’s a lot of questions I’m still unsure on or figuring out the answers too. I’m developing this AU as I answer all these.

[littlereddream]

Of Whiskey and Venom

A/n: cowboy Jason Todd x Reader, f!reader, there will be multiple parts to this because I can’t help myself.

Owing debts to outlaws means playing dangerous games. You know that, well and true. When Carmine Falcone finds out that you don’t have the money to pay him back, he offers you one final method of payment. Your debt would be forgiven in its entirety, so long as you walk yourself to the notorious Red Hood’s camp and surrender yourself with the claim that you’re part of the Falcone’s.

In Gotham, big of a town as it is, word gets around to people fast. Whether it was through gossip or the newspaper boys hard at work, most things never stayed secret.

Usually, it was annoying. Last year, some nosy neighbor had discovered that you’d managed to get your hands on some quality eggs, courtesy of a friend of yours down South. Within the week, almost half of your neighbors had collected at your door at some point or another to ask for some. Would be a shame not to share, they’d said.

Usually, the knowledge of any of your personal business getting out would set you on edge. It’s never been any good to you, only ever causing trouble.

Today, you find cause to be grateful for the quickly spread word. If not for Gotham’s tendency to whisper in each other’s ears, your neighbor would never have come to knock on your front door that morning, all out of breath with urgency all over her.

“You’ve gotta get out of here,” she’d panted. “Run. Run and don’t come back!”

You’d quickly invited her inside, checking outside left and right before shutting the door.

“Mary, the hell’s gotten into you?”

But all she’d done is deliver a soft smack across your shoulder.

“Take this seriously! Darlin, it’s Falcone.” You still remember the ice that had trailed its way down your spine. “My husband, Rupert, told me that he’d overheard some of his boys talking about it. He’s lookin for you.”

You forced yourself to shake your head, pushing back the instinct to freeze up entirely.

“Mary, it just ain’t possible. Falcone and I, we- all of my business with him has been settled.”

“Yes, well, he doesn’t seem to agree. Now, go on! Pack your things. I’ve taken a horse from the stable for you. She’s a fast girl, just old. Won’t nobody come looking for either of you.”

In the end, you’d had enough sense to listen to her, but there was no packing your bags fast enough to escape Falcone. Midway through packing food for your trip, long after Mary had left, you’d heard a different kind of knock at your door. Demanding. Angry.

That whole interaction felt like ages ago to you now, including the conversation you’d had with the man. He’d explained it to you simply, tone so light you’d hardly believe the weight of the words he cracked into your skin, like a cane to a horse.

Apparently, all that time ago when you’d paid back your debt to the man who’d come to collect it from you, there had been a breach in loyalty within Falcone’s gang. Your debt collector had taken the liberty of deciding his own pay, stealing nearly half of the money you’d paid for himself rather than handing over the full amount.

Despite it being an error within his own system, Falcone refused to hear your bargaining. You’d even gone so far as to promise him that money again, all you’d need was a month.

He’d shut you down quicker than you could finish making the offer.

Instead, Falcone offered you a counter proposal.

It’s that counter proposal that has you currently making the solo hike to the Red Hood camp, handcuffs digging uncomfortably into your wrists set in front of you.

What Falcone offered to you went as such: After one of Falcone’s newer men went out and shot a man from the Red Hoods, Hood demanded to be delivered one of Falcone’s own as a leveling of justice and show of goodwill. A gesture to calm the waters between them, since the last thing anybody in town wanted was for the two most dangerous gangs to have it out for each other.

Your job is to be that token of goodwill, to march your way into that camp and declare yourself as a surrender member of the Falcone’s to fulfill their demands.

Do so, and he’d make the kind decision not to take the life of the neighbors that tried to aid in your attempted escape.

The camp is far into the woods, well outside Gotham itself, causing your dress to catch in every grown out bush and twig. Your feet ache from walking so long in the wrong shoes, while your hands haven’t stopped shaking since you were forced to leave home.

There is no getting out of this, you know that. If you run away now, if Falcone finds out that you didn’t settle this debt for him, there would be no corner of the earth far enough for you to hide. It’s either he kills you, or you take your chances with a gang so successfully underground, not even law enforcement knows the real name of its leader. Doesn’t mean they’re any less brutal, though.

You’re going to die, all because Falcone’s men can’t do their jobs, whether that be collecting debts or not shooting the wrong damn people.

There’s a point where the path you walk narrows out, becomes thin and difficult to follow. At some point, you can hardly tell which direction you’re supposed to head, saved only by the spots of recent horseshoe markings in the dirt.

It feels like any second, you’ll be surrounded by people with rifles pointed right at your head. With each step, your breathing further shallows into something unintentionally quieter. A bush rustles to your right, and you feel like an idiot for flinching back when a rabbit runs right out and past you.

After so long walking, you’re starting to think that Falcone could’ve been wrong about the location of the camp. After all, this part of the woods look completely wild, utterly untouched if not for the occasional broken twig or trail marking.

“Who’s there?” A voice shouts out.

Then there’s a gun being pointed to the side of your head. Well, at least you know that if there’s ever an award for jinxing yourself, you’d win it. Or maybe not, considering you’re very likely to be killed within the next few minutes.

“Carmine Falcone’s debt,” you say simply, proud that you’d managed to keep the waiver out of your voice.

There’s a pause in the air, before you can see the man’s mouth pull into a grimace out of the corner of your eye. “That so?” He mutters. “Right. Well, you’re going the wrong way. Come on.”

The redhead, whoever he is, takes great care not to spook you. His rifle, attached to a belt over his shoulder, is exchanged for a single handgun, one just within reach tucked into a holster. The hold he has on your forearm is surprisingly careful, less there to keep you from running and more to guide you through the confusing twists and turns of the woods.

“Watch your step,” he warns. “Hood is gonna be pissed.”

“Why?” You risk asking.

So long as the debt is settled, it seems to you that Hood would be getting everything he specified in his deal. You’re the one being screwed over here.

“Cause, it looks to me like Falcone sent over somebody he doesn’t mind losing instead of an honorable trade.”

You raise a brow. “Who says I ain’t a high value exchange?”

The redhead snorts. “Are you kiddin? You don’t got a single gun-wielding callus on you. We lost one of our best that day, and Falcone sent us you.”

A pause.

“No offense.”

“None taken,” you grumble, bitter for reasons you don’t even know yourself. Maybe it’s because you’re being completely screwed over here, but who’s to say?

It’s not long before the overgrown woods level out into a large clearing, the man weaving you past hitched horses to reveal a large camp. It’s nothing like what you’d expected, hearing what you have about the Red Hoods. Vile, vicious, and mean.

Come to find out their camp looks like an isolated meadow, sun shining down on their colorful tents. From where you’re standing, you can see a young child playing with an even younger puppy. Just past that, there’s a table of people gathered around two women who look to be playing five finger fillet.

The redhead calls out to an older woman to your left who you hadn’t even noticed, sitting quietly as she polished a hunting knife on her pants. What you’d do to be wearing pants instead of a dress right now.

“Ma Gunn,” he greets. “Got a moment?”

“Depends, Roy. More of your trouble?” She says pointedly, but Roy only laughs.

“Not this time. Just got some business to discuss with Hood. Mind keeping the young lady here some company?”

Ma Gunn waves Roy off with a free hand, sheathing the knife and standing.

“Go.”

And then you’re alone with her. Ma Gunn’s eyes are fixed on the metal binding your hands together.

“In some trouble with the law, dear?” She raises a brow. You’re not quite sure what to say to deny it, but some part of your face must look panicked because she breaks out into a quiet laugh. “Relax. We’re hardly the kind of people to judge you for having lawmen after you, not that we’d have any right to.”

Right. Outlaws.

“Besides, you don’t seem like the gunslinging type.”

“Roy said the same,” you tell her.

She snorts. “Course he did. How’d you end up here anyway? Tell me you’re not thinking of joining in. I’m telling you, it might seem nice at first, but it’s nothin worth putting up with Bizarro’s cooking.”

“No, not joining in. I’ve got a debt to settle between Mr. Falcone and Hood.”

It’s within an instant that the woman’s face changes, much more grim than just a moment ago. She looks at you like you’ve already been damned, no shot at survival left to you.

Roy’s back already, tipping his hat in thanks towards Ma Gunn, whose eyes still haven’t left your cuffed wrists.

“Hood wants to see you. Come on, I’ll take you over.” Roy doesn’t touch you this time, just hovers his hand over his lower back like he can force you to move telepathically. You do.

Together, you’re approaching one of the biggest tents in the camp, far in the back. Entirely red, though what else did you expect?

You stop in front of the fabric curtains.

“I think it’s best if you head in alone. Good luck.”

Right. With a final deep breath, you duck into the tent. It feels like stepping into your own casket.

You find that the inside looks bigger than the outside, complete with a large cot, a table surrounded by chairs, and a small bookshelf. At the table sits a man you can only assume is Hood himself, feet resting on the wood as he leans back in his seat. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, gambler hat set on the edge of the table just by his boots.

He’s surprisingly handsome, sharply contrasting all the stories people tend to spread about him. When he’s not wearing a bandana, he’s said to be grotesquely scarred, some even say to the point of deformity. The man is front of you is very much not that, all sharp features with the only visible scars on his face being one over his lower lip and the other down across his brow.

You step forward into the tent, and the wood beneath your feet creaks. Quick as gunfire, narrowed green eyes level with yours. There’s a hint of disbelief in them, like he can’t quite believe his eyes.

“By Gotham, that fool was telling the truth.” You hear him say, gruff and mumbled.

It takes more effort than you’d ever admit to speak without breaking down right there. You’re practically speaking to your executioner right now.

“Hood, right? Carmine Falcone sent me to-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know why he sent you.” Hood drags a hand down his face. “Well, isn’t this just a mess.”

With a tired sigh, Hood calls you forward with a beck of his fingers. Once you’re at the other end of the table, he motions for you to take a seat. You do, albeit on unstable legs. It’s a miracle your knees don’t just buckle when you move to sit.

“So, tell me. This Carmine’s idea of a joke?”

“No, I-“

“He think it’s funny to send me a girl he picked up from who knows where? Send her to her death just to get off clean?”

“If you’d just-“

“Come on, doll. I wanna know. Why the hell is Falcone sending me you instead of what I asked for?”

Hood’s eyes are cold as steel, but you’ve got the strange feeling that his anger isn’t entirely directed at you. Still, better not to assume.

“I am what you asked for. You weren’t cheated.”

Hood snorts, entirely humorless. “You? Now, forgive me for my doubts, but I’m having a hard time-“

This time, you’re cutting him off. “I am,” you insist.

Hood pauses to look at you. Really look at you. There’s an amusement settling in his posture that you don’t like, one that promises nothing good for you.

“Right. Well, who am I to tell you what you are or aren’t? Far be it from me.”

He’s reaching for his hip, unholstering the revolver strapped there and setting it down on the table. You watch the motion as he does it, staring down the weapon between the two of you like it could shoot you without its handler ever touching it.

“This gun here? This is one of my most prized possessions. If this whole tent were to catch fire right now, everything I hold dear tucked inside, this gun would be the only thing I’d bother savin.”

He’s watching your reactions carefully, so you're just as careful to keep your expression back. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, so better he not find anything at all.

“Now, I personally believe actions speak much louder than words. I won’t sit here and call you a liar for telling me you’re a gunslinging outlaw straight from Falcone’s best, but I will tell you to prove it to me.”

Hood nudges the gun closer to where you’re sitting. “So go on and prove it. Take my own gun and shoot me. Eliminate any threat I pose to you within seconds, selfish and brutal.”

You can do nothing but sit there in stunned silence, hands tightly gripping the fabric over your lap. “Hood, I don’t-“

“I insist.”

Your hands shake when you bring them up with a sheepish grin. “Can’t exactly do that with cuffed hands, mister.”

Hood waves you off. “I’ve done worse things than shoot a man with my hands cuffed. Come on, Miss, prove it to me. Unless you can’t.” He tilts his head at the end.

To kill a man, to take a life. You can’t just do that. As is sensing your inner turmoil, Hood offers you a sarcastic pout.

“Weighing on your conscience, is it? Well, if it helps you any, it wouldn’t be a good man you’re killing. I’ve committed too many crimes to be clean of anything. All you’ve gotta do is put a bullet between the eyes of a man who might just kill you unless you do. Not so much of a choice, is there. I sure know what I’d do, if I was you.”

Hood is egging you on, pushing you to prove him wrong. He wants you to do this, wants you to pick up that gun and send a bullet straight through him. He wants you to because he knows you won’t.

The worst part is that he’s right.

You turn your head away from the gun, away from him. It’s answer enough.

You see Hood nod slowly out of the corner of your eye, reaching for his gun to holster it with a rustle and a click. He sets his feet back down to the ground, crossing his arms over the table to lean forward.

“Alright. So tell me again now. Why did Falcone send you?”

The change in tone has you thrown for a loop. Within seconds, the pressing intimidation from before is gone, now much softer in comparison.

So you tell him everything. From your neighbor at your door, from your debt to Falcone, the threats he’d made, all the way to the present moment. This time, Hood doesn’t interrupt you once. He listens carefully, nodding at all of the right places to each relevant point. When you finish, he simply asks you if there’s anything else worth mentioning. At the shake of your head, Hood stands.

“I’ll have someone let Falcone know that his exchange has been well received. So long as he thinks you’re with us now, no one you know will be bothered. As for you, you’ll be free to do whatever you want with your days, just as long as you’re here during the nights. How’s that work for you?”

For a moment, all you can do is stare. Then, ever so cautiously, you dare to ask, “you’re not gonna kill me?”

Hood shrugs. “I have no reason to. This way, you’ll be safe and I won't be bothered by Falcone trying to buy back my truce.”

“But what about your whole…you know.”

Hood raises a brow at you, urging you to continue.

“You know. The whole ‘eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth’ thing.”

Hood grins, toothy and predatory. “Trust me, doll, I’ll still be getting something back from Falcone. I tend not to forgive easy. Hands out for me.”

Quicker than you can process his intentions past putting out your hands, Jason is drawing out his revolver and shooting the chain between your cuffs quicker than you can flinch. He ignores your stunned expression, clipping his weapon back to himself.

“I’ll ask the girls to get you some decent clothes and set you up a tent. Pleasure meeting you.”

Without another word, he’s exiting the tent and leaving you to stare at the chain that used to link your wrists, now scattered into tiny pieces of metal across wood.

[veilofaponia]

Xiao is no good at navigating human emotions, but even he can tell there’s something off about you.

They’ve always been much more effort to figure out than what it was worth, so he’s never given them much thought, but it’s hard to miss what’s going on with you. Even he notices the dullness in your eyes, as if you’re never fully present, that twinkle he had gotten so used to now gone. He notes that your movements are sluggish, if you even move at all. You tend to spend a lot of your time simply laying down, staring down at a wall or something comparably unremarkable.

He wants you to go back to who you were, that old attitude that ultimately caused you to end up like this. Thus, he sets out to observe humans to find some kind of solution.

That one couple catches his eye, the one that always seems to be arguing yet still remains a pair. Xiao notices that every time the woman is mad at her husband, he gets her some kind of gift, and suddenly they’re all lovey-dovey again.

Getting you a gift… That’s within Xiao’s realm of capabilities. He finds something he’s sure you’ll appreciate, you’ve always liked pretty things. He places it next to you while you’re sleeping (an activity you’ve been doing a lot more than before, he thinks) on the mattress of your room in his abode and quickly teleports away, lest you wake up and catch him in the act.

The next day, he returns, assured you’ll be back to normal, maybe even gushing over the trinket. You’re awake, but alas, you’re staring at the wall again, back turned to both Xiao and his gift. The shiny rock he got you hadn’t even moved a single inch.

That’s odd. He was sure that should’ve been enough, but apparently he was wrong.

Staring at your figure on the mattress, he racks his brain for any kind of alternative, only to come up with nothing but blanks.

This is frustrating. If there’s something wrong, just tell him already, then he can fix whatever the issue is and have this solved.

Communication, he realizes because of his train of thought. He’s caught wind of communication being important in relationships. You two technically aren’t dating, but it’s close enough.

You don’t turn to face him when he demands you tell him what you’re doing, this whole thing of doing all day, of never talking or reacting, but you do reply, though your voice is a little muffled from the blankets you're covered by.

I want to go outside.

That confuses him. There is an outside, but you’re still insisting on staying inside the whole time.

You can go outside. Just walk through the front door.

That’s not the same, you bemoan, everyday is the exact same, it’s like living in a time loop.

That’s it? The repetitiveness of the cycle in his abode was causing this? That’s an easy fix, so much so he almost scoffs that this was all it took to make you so depressed. Humans are so sensitive. He’s sure you’ll feel better the second he changes things up.

. . .

Okay, apparently not.

He’s changed the weather and time in his abode. Many times now, actually. So then why do you remain the same? It’s not like you haven’t noticed, he’s dragged you outside to show you, but you just shrug and shuffle back inside.

Why?

He did what you asked, got you what he thought to be the right treatment, so why aren't you cured?

This whole ordeal feels like a pesky weed that won’t be removed no matter how hard he tugs. He’s aware that his attitude is the root of said weed, but he feels there’s no way for him to disperse of something that already digs so deep. This is the way he chose for things to go, spontaneous and badly planned as it was. Nothing to be done now, that’s his reasoning.

Then, are you really going to stay like this forever? This dull, unresponsive you? Is this going to become the new “normal”?

Xiao doesn’t want it to (and he insists it’s because he wants to protect your livelihood, not because of some selfish reason like wanting to quell this sense of anxiety within him or not wanting to lose you). There has to be something, anything he can do to get even a glimpse of the real you.

Now that he’s really thinking about it, there is something, but it has a bitter taste building in his throat at the thought of going along with it.

But if it’s what it takes to get any kind of reaction out of you, maybe it’s worth it.

I’ll take you outside. To the real world.

The response is immediate, so quick it even shocks Xiao. You sit up in bed and stare at him with wide pupils and your mouth a little agape, almost as if you’re asking him really? The real world, the place Xiao ripped you from, deeming it too dangerous. Too many risks, too many variables, making it impossible for him to secure your safety there.

He gives little time for questioning. He walks up to you and grabs hold of you, pulling you to your feet, then your surroundings become unstable.

You’re attacked by a sudden brightness, stinging and closing your eyes that grew too used to the lighting of your room, and you can’t help but gasp at what you see when you reopen then.

You’re high up, far away from civilization, but you know this isn’t something Xiao created. That familiar, dingy mattress is replaced by grass under your feet. The neutral temperature is replaced by the heat of the sun shining on you, the rays causing your eyes to twinkle in the light, only further adding to how happy you look right now, with those wide eyes and that smile reaching them.

You realize now he’s brought you to a mountain. It’s cold, really cold, but you’d rather jump down right now than voice your discomfort. Knowing Xiao, his paranoia would immediately kick in and you’d go right back to his abode.

He’s holding your wrist far too tight for comfort — you’ll have to convince yourself you don’t notice the way his cheeks are dusted red at the contact — but you can almost pretend he isn’t there at all, because he is of no concern right now.

You’re outside, the real world. Not some fabricated world where Xiao controls every little detail, down to the length of every individual blade of grass.

It feels surreal.

You’re preoccupied with taking in everything while you still can; there’s no saying when Xiao will decide it’s been enough and take you back, so better make every second count. You don’t notice how the adeptus is looking at you. You don’t notice the relief painted on his features, usually stoic and awkward.

If this is the result of taking you to this real world, then perhaps this wasn’t a terribly stupid thing to do. Necessary sacrifices and all that.

He just really hopes you won’t get used to this and start demanding he take you out more.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 48

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 45, part 46, part 47

Everyone forms a circle in Steve’s living room. Sitting crossed legged on the floor, waiting. Some people are missing, El wanted to stay with her dad, and Jonathan’s still avoiding Nancy at all costs. There’s a walkie in the center of the circle, open to the same channel. If El needed them, she could listen.

Steve, Robin, and Nancy are talking in the kitchen. Probably getting a little bit drunk. Coping in a way that they won’t let the rest of them. Trying to be the strong ones, when they don’t have to. Tonight’s going to be rough for all of them, they could break just once without consequence.

It’s almost time, Dustin goes to get them.

“Nance,” he hears Robin say, “he won’t come. He’s still pissed at you.”

“And me,” Steve adds.

A glass gets placed hard on the counter. “I don’t care. Before all of this, he was my friend.” He hears their steps move toward the front door and the rustle of keys. “We were there for each other when this started, we’re going to be there for each other as it ends.”

“But if he doesn’t want to talk to you,” Steve tries to reason.

“I don’t care.” There’s a slight waiver to Nancy’s voice. Dustin’s not sure he’s ever seen her cry over this. Seen any of them cry over this. “I don’t know how I can get through this without him, and I’m not going to find out.”

Dustin walks to the hall as the front door opens. Jonathan’s behind it, looking like he was in the middle of a debate with himself. He doesn’t look good. Eyes red rimmed and drooping. Clothes rumpled and looked like they were a few days old.

“Hey,” he says with a hollow voice.

“Hi,” Nancy responds.

He clears his throat. “I’m still pissed at you, but—” he trails off.

“I know.”

The clock on the wall ticks five minutes till nine. “Guys,” Dustin calls down the hall. “It’s almost time.”

Steve’s head nods, solemn. “Let’s go.”

Eddie’s there when they return to the living room, sitting on the floor. “Kids said I could join,” he says to Steve. Something unreadable in his eyes. “Is that ok?”

“Course it is,” Steve says as he sits next to Eddie. Closer than Dustin was expecting.

The circle closes and they join hands. Tangible proof that everyone is still here. Dustin is between Robin and Erica, with Steve just on the other side of Robin. Right there. Alive.

Right on cue, the fireworks start.

Dustin squeezes his eyes shut with the first boom. Sparks visualize in his mind. Red arms of flesh swinging at him. He takes the fireworks and throws it. They win, but at what cost.

Erica tightens her grip on his hand. He squeezes back to show her he’s alive.

“Steve,” Robin whispers.

“Still alive,” he responds. Voice wet.

Dustin feels her shift closer to him.

He forces his eyes open, forces the visions to stop. Those of the group who have their eyes open meet his gaze. All of them in a state of fear or grief. They are all in this together. The fireworks continue to boom.

Nancy keeps looking over to Mike to make sure he’s there. Before nodding at each of them, counting heads. Jonathan’s legs are pulled up to his chest. Will keeps flinching his one arm, ready to feel the eeriness creep at his neck. Lucas moved his arm around Erica’s shoulders, holding her close.

He looks at all of them and knows that he isn’t alone. He isn’t alone in his pain, or his wishing things could be different. As Mike and Nancy look at each other again, he knows they spend so much time wishing the other wasn’t a part of this. As Max can’t hold in her cries anymore, he knows that Lucas wishes he never told her about the upside down that day.

As Steve mutters out a quiet, “I work at Scoops,” Dustin wishes he never dragged him into this.

But the past can’t change. It’s already been written. Dustin can hope and wish and pray that things played out differently. He can blame himself for the rest of his life, but it won’t change anything. Because their paths would have always converged in the same way. Always leading them here.

The radio crackles in the center of the circle, El’s voice comes through. “Almost over.”

He knows that he’ll always probably blame himself. That he will always wish that things were different. That he’ll wish the nightmares were normal ones about his teeth falling out in class or forgetting he had a test. He’ll wish that time was different, that his life never had to change like this. But maybe he can make peace with the fact that it will never change.

Maybe he can make peace that these people don’t blame him for this. They’ll wish the same as him, that they never got involved, but it was inevitable. That night when Will went missing, it changed the paths for everyone in this room. Choices were made that can’t be taken back, and they’ll regret some of them for the rest of their lives.

But, with each other, they can move forward from this as one and finally heal. The last fight has been fought. Been won. As the time moves forward, so can they. Together.

“Brace yourselves,” Dustin whispers, knowing what the big finale is like. They all wait for it to end.

He used to love fireworks. Would beg his mom to bring him to the fair every year just so he could see him. And when he was old enough, he would bike there with the party and just stand there in awe. The perfect mix of science, his greatest love, making art in the sky.

As the last boom of the night rings through the air, Dustin hopes he can enjoy it again someday. He promises himself that one day, he will.

No one moves for a few minutes after they end. Sitting still to calm the beatings of their hearts. They made it through.

Almost in synchrony, they all start to move. Standing up, wiping the tears from their eyes. Returning to normal. Finding themselves again.

“Steve?” Eddie asks softly after Steve doesn’t move. Sitting there rigid.

He nods. “I’m ok.” He straightens his back, revealing the wet trail of tears down his cheeks. “You ready?” he asks Robin.

“Yeah.”

She gets up first, holding out her hand for him. They go in two different directions. Robin getting a bag from the hallway, while Steve grabs a bottle of alcohol from the cabinet and a box of matches.

Dustin follows them as they go outside. “What are you guys doing?”

Steve places the bottle of alcohol, what looks like expensive tequila, next to the fire pit. “After that night, we made a pact. A year from then, we burn our uniforms.”

“To prove that we made it out,” Robin continues, her voice sounding dry. “To prove that we never have to go back.”

She hands Steve the bag and he dumps the uniforms into the fire pit. The blood and sweat soaked uniforms ready to be set ablaze.

Steve unscrews the tequila and pours it over them, wasting more than he probably should.

“You want to do the honors,” he asks Robin, handing her the box of matches.

She takes it with shaky hands, striking the match and tossing it into the pit. The fire starts instantly.

Robin sobs as she falls into Steve. His cries are silent as he wraps her in a hug. Holding each other as they watch the outfit from the worst night of their lives burn to ash. Dustin walks back inside, letting them have this moment to themselves.

Eddie is watching from the sliding doors. “What are they burning?”

“Their Scoops uniforms, they were wearing them when it all went down.”

Nancy walks up to the door. “I never knew what happened to them that night, every time I try to ask, they avoid answering it.”

She looks at Dustin for answers he doesn’t even know the whole of. “I think they were tortured. When we went into that bunker, we got separated. They held the door closed so me and Erica could escape into the vent. After we rescued them, Steve’s face was beaten up and they were tied to chairs, and drugged. I never got any confirmation, but I knew.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes out. Still staring out the glass. His arms held close to his chest.

“Do you remember their faces when we went into that vent,” Erica asks from behind them. “They were scared, but they still chose to save us.”

Dustin turns, seeing the group that had formed behind him. All watching the fire outside. He nods. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

“There are so many things from that night that I won’t forget,” Max speaks up.

“There are so many things from the last four years that I won’t forget,” Mike adds.

Will reaches to grab his hand. “Yeah.”

“We should go back to the living room,” Nancy says. “So we’re not just staring at them.”

Eddie is the last to leave the room, still staring at them through the door.

“He’s been acting weird all week," he explains as Dustin hangs back. “I knew it had to be something bad, I just didn’t imagine that.”

“No one wants to imagine half the things that we’ve been through.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

They rejoin the group in the living room. Jonathan grabs his keys and fills his car with the people who want to go home. Him and Nancy talking before he leaves. She hangs around, making sure everyone left is taken care of.

Eddie just sits on the couch, looking out of place. But he’s waiting for something, Dustin can tell.

“Hey,” Mike nudges Dustin’s shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re going over to my house for the night. Just in case you didn’t want to go home.”

Dustin thinks about it. He was going to see if he could stay the night here. Be close to Steve. But he might be ok. And by not being here, Steve could worry about just himself for a night. Not Dustin as well.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Eventually, Steve and Robin come back inside. Robin nods at Nancy before climbing the stairs up to Steve’s room. Steve and Eddie share a look when they pass. He stops and places a hand on Dustin’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug, before following Robin up the stairs.

Before Eddie can get to his room, Dustin stops him. “I’m going over to Mike’s, call me if anything happens.”

Eddie nods. “I got them, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.”

Nancy waits by the door. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin follow her out to the car. They drive to the house is quiet. Everyone is still reeling from tonight.

Jonathan’s car is parked out on the street when they get there. Will, Max, and Erica coming out with their bags.

“You could stay too, you know,” Nancy says to Jonathan. “No one should be alone tonight.”

“I thought about it, but I think it’s better if I go home.”

Nancy nods, accepting.

“See you around, Nance,” he says before getting back in his car.

“You could stay in the basement with us,” Mike offers, “if you need to.”

Nancy nods again, blinking away the tears in her eyes. Following them inside.

The basement floor is covered in blankets and pillows. Everyone finding a spot to lie down comfortably. Dustin stares at the ceiling, waiting for the tired fall of his eyes. So he can wake up tomorrow and feel better. Feel less like pure dread.

Slowly, he can hear the people around him start to fall asleep. Tomorrow will be better than today, he repeats in his mind. Peaceful sleep taking over.

the notes you guys left on my last post literally made my day, you have no idea. hugs for all of you.

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[evolnoomym]

Birds of a Feather 🌙☀️

General Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist | Support me |

Summary: A peek into the future.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 0.8 k

Authors note: First of all Happy Birthday to my Wife @joelmillerisapunk and myself, I love you so much Sunshine (we are literally Scorpio twins) 🫶🏻 This was supposed to be something else, a whole multi-chapter Fic based around this couple (which I still plan on writing) but as you know my life kinda changed completely so I was busy with taking care of that instead. I hope y’all like this little gift I’ve prepared.

Warnings: no use of y/n, Female reader, Female OC, FFM, beautiful domestic vibes, getting married, implied age-gap, cock lol, throuple,

Shoutout to @saradika @strangergraphics and @steddiecameraroll-graphics 💛

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. You are always welcome to talk with me about my writing. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. 🫶🏻

If someone would’ve told you that your future is gonna look like this you would’ve never believed it. So full of love, happiness and joy, exactly what you deserve after all these painful years. You finally get to wake up and be happy about it. Free of the past that kept dragging you down into the abyss. Meeting Sunny changed everything, you spend hours day after day talking to her and never once getting tired of each other. Love at first sight. Within months the decision was made to leave everything behind, runaway and move in with her.

It may seem rushed to others, but not once since then did you regret leaving. Sunny and you quickly fell into a blissful domestic routine, waking up together in bed, making breakfast for each other, cleaning the house like maniacs together and let’s not forget about those countless trips to Costco while listening to music you both loved. Movie nights cuddled up on the couch, tending to the vegetable garden in the backyard and all the dates Sunny planned, showing off the beautiful hidden spots of her town.

Of course one day the topic of getting married came up and it wasn’t surprising that the both of you had similar dreams, tying the knot in Italy. A month after that conversation Sunny got down on one knee and popped the question, which of course you immediately said yes to. A couple weeks after she slipped that moon shaped diamond down your finger it was time to walk down the aisle. It was a small ceremony. One of the best days in your life, one you won’t ever forget. The day you married the love of your life.

A year has since passed and if someone, again, would’ve told you that it will get even better you would have not believed it.

Life was already pretty perfect, but then you met Joel Miller that fateful night, 6 months ago, at the local bar. Sunny and you had talked about sharing someone but the opportunity never came. Joel however was different from those other guys, his interest was not driven by perversion, no, he was genuine and respectful. A mature man who knows what it takes to make a gal happy. Broad shoulders, strong arms, the sweetest brown eyes and luscious brown locks streaked with grey.

In the beginning you felt like a traitor for feeling the way you did about Joel.

Sunny ever the Angel reassured you each time that you are not a bad person for loving more than one person, after all she loved him too.

Those doubts feel silly now as you stand in the kitchen of the house you three share. Glancing out of the big window above the countertop you can see Sunny in the garden outstretched on a big blanket. She’s soaking up the last rays of sunlight and the golden hues make her look so angelic. It’s November 10th, her birthday and yours too.

You quietly step out onto the porch, tiptoeing over to her, she seems to sense your presence and opens her eyes. “Hii Babygirl,” Sunny’s sweet voice greets you. As you sink down to your knees, she sits up on her knees and slides her arms around your waist. “What did you do inside?” Sunny asks after pressing her soft lips on yours. “I cleaned the kitchen,” you try to lean in for another kiss “Wait I already cleaned the kitchen this morning,” Sunny pulls back and tilts her head questioning “are you okay Baby?” She knows you so well. “Yeah I’m just nervous, do you think he has something planned for us?”

Sunny chuckles “I sure hope he does or else he won’t get his cock sucked tonight,” her boldness still makes you blush furiously “ awww Baby no need to get shy, it’s okay I know you love that cock.” She smirks and you can only nod bashful.

“Yes, but shouldn’t he do something to us?” You pout your lips and Sunny takes the opportunity to kiss you again. She strokes through your hair gently “He will definitely do something to us, but that gift you want probably the most has to wait for a little longer.”

“I know, maybe we can give him that for his birthday?” You suggest in a giddy tone.

“Would it really be a surprise if he’s actively involved in making that gift?” She retorts.

“No, but you know what I mean.”

“Yes I do, let’s talk about it with him okay sweet cheeks?” You nod.

Sunny’s attention is pulled to something behind you “Speaking of the devil,” Sunny smiles and points to something behind you.

When you whip around you see Joel with two huge bouquets in his arms, a big smile on his face and even after he’s worked a hard shift he still looks breathtakingly handsome. And when he opens his mouth to bless your ears with his deep Texas drawl you are immediately put at ease.

“There are my two pretty girls, now who’s ready for a Birthday Party?”

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[evervigilantnightshade]

The Line - Part One

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions. Father of reader's death mentioned. It will get pretty angsty for a bit.

Authors note: I used to write on Tumblr in a different fandom for a long time and then left. Now I'm back under a different name and I hope you like what I have to say.

Y/N couldn’t remember a point in her life that wasn’t geared towards being in the military. It ran in her family, going back generations. Her father was one of the most famous marksmen spoken amongst anyone in service. He was made for combat and dreamed of having a son to follow in his footsteps. 

When his first child was born he held his wife’s hand and admired her strength as she delivered their addition to their family. The first moment he looked into Y/N’s eyes he fell madly in love, no longer caring about succession. All he wanted was happy, healthy children. He was then gifted with 4 more girls. 

As she grew up though Y/N showed vast interest in what her father did. Always asking questions, begging him to teach her how to shoot a gun. She kept herself in shape and made sure to do well in school. 

When she turned 15 she told her father she wanted to join the military when she turned 18. He sat for a while saying nothing and she started to feel a bit anxious. 

“Y/N sweetheart can I ask you why you want to join?” He finally spoke

She paused to think about her answer, wanting to convey exactly how she felt.

“It feels right. I want to do something with my life that matters, I want to feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself. I see the camaraderie you have with the men in your unit and I want that too. It’s in my blood dad, just like it’s in yours.” 

“You do understand that as a female it will be a long hard journey for you?” 

“If I work hard enough though and I’m a good soldier it shouldn’t matter though right?” 

“Oh sweetheart I wish for you that was true. However, almost all the time all they will see is that you're a girl and deem you less than themselves.” 

“Well I’ll just have to prove them wrong. And besides I won’t be doing it for them.” She said with determination in her voice. 

He sat for a bit longer and then reached over and put his hand on hers. 

“Whatever you need I’ll be there.” He said with a smile. 

“I want to do this on my own though.” She explained. “Not saying I don’t want you to be there for me. I just don’t want to rely on your reputation and the family name. I want to prove to myself and to you that I can do this.”

Her dad understood but was still worried for his daughter. 

She joined up at 18 just like she said she would and despite her determination her father had been right. It was hard for her, and there were times when all she wanted to was give up but that wasn’t in her. So she fought harder, trained longer and pushed herself to limits she didn’t even know she had. She was top of all her classes and was the best shooter on base. 

In fact she was so good that she was asked to join a special program in the UK for top marksmen. Again she pushed herself to the limit but it paid off. Her reputation sored and eventually she was recruited by Captain Price to join his team. The 141 became her brothers in arms and the family she always admired her father for. 

The last time she saw her dad he told her how proud he was of her. She did what she set out to do, all on her own skill and determination. He now felt that the part of him that wanted a successor was fulfilled in ways he could only have dreamed of. 

He died of a heart attack 6 months later and it destroyed Y/N.

Now a year later, Y/N was laying in the mud high above the target zone, the ever vigilant sniper. Ghost was positioned opposite her, giving them both a complete view of any threats that may arise and compromise the mission. 

This year had been rough for the 141. They had been chasing the same target that seemed to elude them no matter what they did. The target was a man named Bako, a once low-level member of a drug empire now turned kingpin. Using violence and betrayal he has taken out anyone or anything that has been in his way. He has plagued the team for far too long and has become an increasingly dangerous threat. 

After all the escapes, near misses and wrong information the team finally got confirmation that he would be here, at this warehouse, meeting with his high-level partners. The plan was to bring the building down on top of them all, ending this once and for all. 

Soap, Gaz and Captain Price were currently approaching the target area quietly in a small boat. Y/N watched through her scope as the three men climbed out of the boat and made their way quietly across a small patch of grass that separated the water from the warehouse. The first thing she noticed is that Price had switched out his usual bucket hat for a baseball cap. Y/N’s core clenched, remembering a deal they had made a few months back.

They had been on a hard mission that had kept them away from the base for three months. After they all had showered, slept, and decompressed Soap was convinced they all needed a good old fashion BBQ to let off some steam. Kate agreed so her wife and her decided to host at their place.

Ghost and Soap were sitting at the picnic table while Y/N sat on a chair in the sun, wearing a pair of shorts and a v neck white t-shirt, trying to get some colour on her unusually pale legs. Beside her Gaz was going on about a girl he had invited that he was excited about. Granted he had only spent one drunken night with her before their last deployment. 

“She’s smoking hot Y/N, and smart.” 

Y/N glanced up over at him, shielding her eyes from the sun despite wearing sunglasses. 

“And you're sure about this one? Cause the last girl you were seeing went a bit crazy when you had to leave on missions. She called the Mexican embassy trying to find you. We weren’t even in Mexico.” Y/N reminded him

“Or what about the girl who was convinced you were sleeping with Bells and then tried to pull her hair out at the bar?” Soap chimed in and Y/N reached up and rubbed the side of her head.

“Took me by surprise. She was lucky I wasn’t armed.” 

“Yeah or that one…” Ghost started but Kyle interrupted him. 

“This one is different. I have a good feeling about her.” He smiled at them and Y/N felt a bit bad for him. 

“I’m sure she’s lovely Gaz.” 

He nodded at her looking proud. She chuckled thinking about the ways Ghost would intimidate her without even trying. 

“Ahhh good times” she mumbled and was about to take a swig of her beer when she froze the bottle half way to her lips. 

Price had just walked in wearing form fitting jeans, a slightly tight, black shirt and an army green baseball hat. He looked fucking amazing. Y/N bit her bottom lip and shook her head. 

Beside her Gaz waved his hand in front of her face and she looked up to see him, Ghost and Soap all looking at her, grinning.

“You ok there Bells?” Ghost grunted smugly.

“Fuck off” Y/N said with a grin despite being slightly embarrassed at getting caught drooling over their Captain. “And in this moment, if you're going to use my call sign, use the whole thing, dickhead.”

“Apologies Belladonna” Ghost said and then raised his beer which Y/N reciprocated. 

She took a long sip of her beer to wash down the heat that was creeping up her neck as well as creeping downwards. 

After putting his beer in the cooler, Price grabbed one and headed over to the group and nodded at them hello. Everyone either nodded back or mumbled a hello. 

“You four are unusually quiet.” Price said reaching over and using the picnic table to pop the cap off his beer. 

“We were just asking Bells…” Soap started but Y/N interrupted. 

“We were actually just talking about the new girl Gaz invited to the BBQ.” 

“You invited a girl here?” Price said and then chuckled. “Is this one, mentally stable at least?” 

Y/N got up, deciding to grab another beer, making a point to walk by Soap and smack him on the back of the head causing Ghost’s shoulders to shake while he silently chuckled. 

Price glanced over at Y/N while Gaz started telling him about his new girl. 

He almost fully turned around to watch as she bent over to grab her beer out of the cooler but then stopped himself. 

“Damn those are some dangerous shorts” He thought to himself and felt his jeans becoming a little tighter. 

He turned back at Gaz who was just staring at him. 

“Jesus Christ, the two of you.” Gaz shook his head and then walked over to talk to Kate. 

Price went over and sat at the picnic table. 

“What’s he on about now?” Price asked and Soap and Ghost exchanged glances. 

“No clue sir.” Ghost said, not wanting to be the one to point out the obvious.

The conversation naturally flowed then into football and the comment was forgotten. About an hour that consisted of chit chat and laughs, Kyle’s new girl showed up with a friend. 

Immediately Y/N got a bad feeling about them. 

Nancy was perfectly manicured, with her makeup and hair done up a bit much for a backyard BBQ. She had on a pair of white capris with a blue sleeveless blouse and wedges. Her friend looked like a copy and paste version of her. 

“Hey everyone,” Gaz announced to the group. “This is Nancy and her friend Becca.” 

For an awkward moment, no one said anything or made a move to introduce themselves to the girls. It was Kate that broke the silence and walked over. 

“Nice to meet you two. I’m Kate. Kyle has told us all so much about you Nancy.” 

“Awe he’s just the best isn’t he?” Nancy said, grabbing on to Gaz’s arm. 

“We certainly think so.” Kate said with a forced smile. “Do you girls want a drink? We have beer in the cooler.” She gestured over to the cooler on the deck. 

“Oh we don’t actually drink beer.” Becca said with her nose scrunched up. 

“Yeah we are wine girlies.” Nancy said in a playful tone.

“Um ok, yeah we have some wine in the house. Do you prefer white or red?” Kate asked. 

“Definitely white.” Nancy said looking over at Becca who nodded. “Yeah we’ll take white.” 

Beside Y/N she heard Ghost mumble “Gods give me strength.” Which caused her to smile. 

She then looked over at Price who was looking at her with a grin on his face and she grinned back. 

“You better go introduce yourself Cap. You are the leader of the team after all.” Y/N teased and he cocked his head at her with an amused look on his face. 

“Only if you come with me.” He retorted and Y/N laughed 

“You’d have a better chance of convincing Ghost to join you.” 

“Don’t even ask sir.” Ghost said, getting up and walking in the opposite direction of the girls just to be sure.

“Go on then.” Y/N sighed and stood up motioning at the girls.

Price stood up and then smacked Soap lightly on the shoulder. 

“You too Soap.”

He groaned but stood up reluctantly.  

“Play nice you two.” He warned and they made their way over to where they were standing.

Gaz’s face lit up seeing them approach.

“Nancy, this is my Captain.” He said proudly. 

Price smiled back and then extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh Captain! That’s a fancy title.” Nancy said and then placed her hand in Price’s facing downward as if expecting him to kiss the back of her hand.

Instead he awkwardly shook her hand while holding on to the ends of her fingers.

“Call me John.” 

“And this is Johnny and Y/N.” Gaz said motioning to where her and Soap were standing.

Nancy looked over at them and then stuck her hand out the same way to Soap, while completely ignoring Y/N

“So many handsome men on your team.” Nancy said while looking over at Becca who was shaking Price’s hand.

“I agree.” Becca said with a smile. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and then turned around without saying a word, walking over to Ghost.

“How was that?” He asked and she just knew he was grinning under his black surgical mask.

“When Gaz makes his way over to you for introductions, and he will, do me a favour and scare them enough so they leave yeah?” 

Ghost chuckled beside her.

“You a bit jealous there Bells?” 

Y/N looked over at Becca who was currently squeezing Soap's bicep.She watched as Price took a slight step back to avoid the same treatment. 

“Got no reason to be.” She said with a satisfied smirk. 

“Because you’re pretty confident those girls aren’t Price’s cup of tea?” 

“Why would that matter to me? He’s a single man who is extremely good looking, and has a nice… everything.” She let out a sign at the last word causing Ghost to audibly laugh. 

“Oh love you got it bad.” But then his voice turned serious.  “Hope you know what you’re doing.” He said cautiously. 

“What does that mean?” She said a slight frown forming on her face.

“Just don’t want ya to get hurt is all.” He said with a shrug.

She took a second to swallow the lump in her throat and then plastered on a fake smile.

“Hey you know what I always say. Can't get hurt if you don’t catch feelings.”

“So it’s purely physical then?” He asked, turning now to face her.

“Of course.” She replied but they both knew she was lying. 

“Y/N…” he started but he was interrupted by Gaz calling out to him.

“Well, it looks like it’s your turn.” she said relieved as she slowly turned and started making her way over to Kate. 

“Don’t you fucking leave me.” Ghost hissed 

“Sorry I think Kate’s calling me, I think she needs help with the grill.” Y/N called over her shoulder and then laughed. 

“You know there are people out there who are scared of me.” He called out after her

“And I’m not one of them!” She called back.

Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye as Nancy and Becca were introduced to Ghost and he made no movement to reach out and take their limp hands. 

When they started grilling him about his surgical mask he stayed silent but when Becca reached over and squeezed his arm, telling how beautiful his eyes were, it was his breaking point and he turned and walked away without a word. Y/N heard Gaz say something about Ghost being shy and Becca giggled.

“I guess we’ll just have to break him out of his shell.” She said in a high pitched voice.

“Ok food is ready!” Kate called out 

Y/N was disappointed because she really wanted to see Becca try. 

They all sat down and ate the amazing food, constantly complimenting Kate and her wife saying it was one of the best meals they had had in a long time. 

After eating everyone was lounging around patting their full bellies. Price was sitting behind Y/N in one of the chairs smoking a cigar and talking to Kate. 

Becca and Nancy approached Y/N who was currently tidying up the picnic table. 

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding us.” Nancy said slurring slightly while pointing her finger at Y/N 

“Have I?” Y/N said, mocking her playful tone.

“You have, but that’s ok. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends eventually. Now we wanted to ask which one of these guys do you belong to?” 

Behind them Price and Kate halted their conversation to pay attention to what was happening now in front of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Y/N answered with gritted teeth.

“Oh don’t be like that, you know what I mean. Which one is yours? We don’t want to be stepping on any toes here. We’re trying to find a match for Becca.” 

“I figured that much.” Y/N replied tensely.

“Yeah, being a soldier's wife would be so cool! And like they’re never home but you get all this respect for serving your country. How great is that?!” 

Y/N was about to tear into her but she felt a hand grab hers. 

“Watch it love. We wouldn’t want to ruin Laswell’s lovely BBQ would we?” Price whispered in her ear and closed her eyes, suddenly very aware of how close he was. 

She clenched her jaw when he let go of her hand and went back over towards Laswell, but remained within grabbing distance. 

“Oh perfect, you’re with the old man! He wasn’t even on our list of candidates!” Nancy said excitedly. 

“Not on your list?” Y/N said, her voice slightly raised “He should be on the top of that list!” 

“I mean we totally get it, for you he is but he’s just like not our type.” Nancy replied and Becca nodded.

“Oh but he’s a Captain! You must have amazing benefits! Especially like that death one.” Becca started and Y/N lunged. 

Before she could reach the girls though an arm wrapped around her waist and picked her up dragging her towards the house. Behind her she could hear Nancy and Becca still talking.

“What’s her deal?” 

“No clue, let’s go talk to that scary one again. I bet he’s hot under that mask.” 

She was struggling to get back out to the yard when Price finally put her down in the kitchen. 

“Let me go back out there. I promise not to kill them.” Y/N said while pacing the kitchen, Price was now blocking her only way out. “Just maim them a bit.”

“Hmmm” Price grunted, standing with his arms crossed in that way that Y/N loved. His fingers tucked under his arms, his thumbs pointed up and his hips jutting out. But she didn’t notice, she was too mad. 

“Death benefits! Death benefits. She’s talking about fucking death benefits like it’s the lottery.” Y/N went off still pacing. “They’re just out there looking to sucker one of you into marrying them so they can get your fucking benefits.” 

“Not me.” Price said amused. “I’m not on their list” 

“Yeah that’s another thing, not on their list. How can they look at you and not want you?” 

“Well,” Price said,walking over to Y/N and standing in front of her causing her to stop pacing. “I’m on your list and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Y/N blushed and then smiled slyly.

“And am I on yours?” 

He started slowly walking towards her and she was taking small steps backwards until she was against the kitchen sink. He leaned over and put his left hand on the counter beside her. 

“You are the whole list.” he said quietly and then grabbed the bottom hem of her shorts, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her thigh. “Especially in these.” 

Y/N felt her skin tingle and heat up but also felt a nervousness in her chest. They had never been this close to stepping over the line that separated play and real. Ghost’s words echoed in her mind “Don’t want you to get hurt.” A slight frown formed on her lips and immediately Price started to back up. 

“Sorry, that was too…”  He started but Y/N grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He looked down at her lips and then further down before looking back into her eyes. 

“Are you sure this is what  you want? Because we have been playing this game for quite a while and once we cross that line I don’t think I could ever go back.” 

He moved his knee in between her legs and she let out a soft moan as she rocked her hips forward against it. 

“Does that answer your question?” She asked, flattening her hand on his chest and slowly moving it downward. 

“God woman.” He hissed and was about to slam his lips down onto hers when they heard Gaz calling out his name. 

“Fuck.” Y/N cried out and slipped out from in front of Price who moved forward, pretending to be doing dishes. 

Gaz walked into the kitchen and looked at the two of them confused. 

“What’s going on?” He asked looking over at Price who wouldn’t turn around. 

“Nothing, we’re not doing anything?” Y/N replied quickly 

“Dishes” Price added behind her. 

“Yeah dishes. We’re doing dishes.” She then picked up a dish towel to sell the story. 

“Ok… well Nancy came up to me and said that you were acting weird and looked like you were mad at her.” 

“Right, that.” Y/N sighed, relaxing slightly. “Gaz I want you to look at me and listen to what I’m saying alright? Hard no on Nancy.”

“What? But..” He sputtered but Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Gaz she was talking about death benefits and how you’ll never be around. She may be nice looking on the outside but on the inside she is ugly.” 

Gaz sighed and then looked out towards the backyard. 

“Could I just enjoy the outside for a bit before I send her packing?” 

“NO!”  Y/N and Price said in unison. 

“Fine. I’ll get her out of here.” His head fell and he made his way back outside. 

Price stepped away from the sink and Y/N handed him the dish towel to dry his hands. She stood still facing away from him, her hands on her hips with her head down. 

“We should get back out there.” She sighed and then looked up at the ceiling. 

Behind her even though she couldn’t see him, Price nodded. 

They were silent for a moment and Y/N felt his hand rest lightly on her hips and leaned over to whisper in her ear. 

“Wear those shorts again for me sometime?” 

“John,” She said quietly and he pushed his hips into her with a moan, hearing her say his name. “You wear that hat again and you’ll see me in a lot less.” 

He groaned and nipped at her ear. They stood there for a minute and then John reluctantly let her go. 

“Ok we really need to go out back.” She said turning around to see John trying to adjust himself. 

“You go, I'm going to need a few minutes here.” 

After that they got busy at work with missions, training, paperwork and stakeouts that took over their lives and they hadn’t had a chance to be alone once. John went back into Captain mode and it was starting to feel like the BBQ was just a fever dream Y/N had. She spent many nights thinking about that moment and what could have come next. It was driving her to the point of insanity.  

But now, seeing John in that hat, she knew that he was suffering just as much as she was. 

“I guess a deal is a deal, Cap.” Y/N said into the coms quietly. 

Price looked up at her direction, smirked, nodded and gave her a quick wink causing her core to clench.

“Eyes on the prize here folks.” Ghost said in the coms. ”I want to get this over and done with.” 

“Roger that.” The rest of the team replied. 

-------------------------------------------------

Alright let me know what you think. I live off feedback. Should I continue? This is my first fic up so I’m going to need a little encouragement to start posting again.

[tightjeansjavi]

Et Auream - Act 2 : Even In The Darkest of Places

A/N: despite the state that our world is currently in, I’m really proud of this chapter and how it has turned out. This was another chapter that I had completed gutted and rewrote from July. As always, a huge thank you to @sinsofsummers for being my beta 💗

word count: 4.8k

Summary: Even in the darkest of places, hope remains.

Pairing | Marcus Acacius x f!oc

Warnings: canon typical violence, enslavement, power imbalance, domestic abuse, language, transactional sex (not between Marcus & oc) misogyny, derogatory language, +18 minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything

series masterlist

SENATOR CASSIUS’S VILLA

“Amalthea, I have never witnessed such an act of defiance!” Aurelia whispered excitedly. The kitchen maid had become one of her dear friends—perhaps even a mother figure to her. She cherished the moments away from Cassius where she could simply be. Amalthea was old and wise, and she served Cassius longer than any of the rest of his servants had. She had taken Aurelia under her wing in every sense.

“It has been many years since a gladiator so boldly defied an emperor,” Amalthea said in disbelief. She was seated at the meager prep table, a basket of freshly plucked peas from the field were waiting to be shucked for Cassius’s dinner later. “Come sit with me, child. Help shuck these peas and tell me more of this brave gladiator.”

Aurelia tore her gaze from the archway window where in the distance she could just make out the city of Rome, and the looming Colosseum. She could still hear Cassius’s voice droning in her ear about how rogues like Acacius should be terminated. With a sigh she walked to the empty seat next to the older woman and sat alongside her. She reached into the basket and pulled out a few pea pods.

“They called him Acacius the merciful, but I fear that he is not receiving the same mercy that he gave his opponent,” she said quietly, her voice laced with genuine concern.

Amalthea reached over the table and gently squeezed her forearm with a saddened smile. “Defiance against an emperor is often met by cruel punishment, Aurelia. Acacius the merciful may not live to see another day,” she said pensively.

Aurelia’s shoulders slumped forward at the thought of Acacius being wrongfully punished for his defiant actions. She knew that this was customary, but it didn’t make it any less morbid.

“I want to go to him,” she said suddenly, surprising not only herself, but Amalthea as well.

“Aurelia,” she warned. “That would be foolish of you, and not to mention extremely dangerous. Our Dominus wouldn’t stand for it either. You and I both know his disdain towards the gladiators all too well.”

“Amalthea, your concern will not go unnoticed, but our Dominus will be at the brothel for hours after dinner. He won’t return till the early morning hours, if at all.” She had wishful thinking in her mind that her abuser would miraculously never return again and she would never have to endure his cruelty for another day.

“Would your intrigue for this gladiator weaken if he had not acted in defiance?” Amalthea said teasingly, a playful lilt in her tone.

“Amalthea!” Aurelia gasped and giggled softly at her teasing. “My admiration for Acacius is not what you’re thinking it is, I swear!” she protested.

The older woman laughed and the corners of her eyes crinkled, showing her own buried youth appearing, even if just for a moment.

“Forgive me, child. I had to ask,” she said softly and reached for another peapod. “I know well enough that once your heart is set on something, there is no deterring you. The Ludus Magnus is no place for a woman, Aurelia.”

“Rome is no place for a woman, and yet, here we are,” Aurelia solemnly reminded her.

Amalthea huffed out a laugh and shook her head with a knowing grin, “I just want you to be careful, Aurelia, but if you’re truly that determined, take Luna from the stables. She will guide you.”

“I knew you would come around eventually,” she winked subtly at the older woman, and the two returned to their fits of giggling as the sun began to slowly make its descent from the heavens.

When dinner was prepared, Cassius requested for Aurelia to present him his meal in his private study and she knew what this entailed, but she had no choice but to obey.

Amalthea gave her a sympathetic look as she placed the tray that contained Cassius’s meal in her awaiting arms and Aurelia wordlessly turned on her heel and walked towards the direction of his private quarters.

Cassius was seated at his desk, hunched over and focused on the parchment laid out in front of him when he heard a soft knock on the other side of the door.

“You may enter,” He said.

Aurelia took a deep breath and quietly pushed the door open while keeping the tray steady in her arms.

“Good evening, Dominus,” she bowed her head slightly before approaching his desk and gently placed the tray down in front of him, careful to not disturb the papers laid out in front of him.

Cassius paid no attention to her and reached blindly for a piece of thigh meat from the perfectly roasted chicken and tore off a chunk with little care when the savory juice dribbled down his chin.

Aurelia assumed that she could take her cue to leave, but as soon as she turned to walk away, Cassius finally acknowledged her presence.

“I did not dismiss you, Aurelia,” he sighed through his nose. “Sit with me,” he commanded.

She steeled her expression, her fists clenched at her sides. She had foolishly hoped that tonight she would not have to endure his unwanted touch.

“Don’t be shy,” He said wryly, and with his freehand he tapped his knuckles along the desk impatiently.

Aurelia moved towards his side, expecting that he had wanted her to sit in his lap, but when he tilted his head to the side and his eyes flickered towards the floor, she slowly lowered herself to her knees.

He placed his hand against the crown of her head and threaded his fingers through the tresses of her mahogany hair and let out a content sigh from the back of his throat.

“That’s better.” He was pleased, but not as much as he would have liked to be. And when he sensed her discomfort, he tightened his grip around her skull, just enough to make her wince from the sensation. “Although, you could be doing more than just sitting there,” he said suggestively, not masking his true intent when he guided her head towards his lap. “It would please me even more if you were so kind as to tend to me with your affections.”

So much for wishful thinking.

—

When Cassius finally left for his evening excursions, Aurelia crept from her chambers and headed down to the stables. Amalthea was waiting for her, unexpectedly, and while she focused on tacking up Luna, Amalthea reminded her of the very real dangers to being out after dark. Aurelia appreciated her concern, but this did not deter or sway her mind to stay within the safety of the villa.

“I will be back before the sunrise, I promise. Cassius won’t even know that I was gone,” Aurelia reassured her as she gracefully swung her leg over the front of the saddle and gathered up the reins in her hands gently.

“I’ll pray to Fortuna for your safe return, and to Salus for the gladiator Acacius. Ride swift and silent and do not let anyone see you. Bona fortuna, Aurelia.”

“Et videbo vos ante solis ortum,” (and I will see you before the sunrise) Aurelia whispered and gently squeezed her heels against Luna’s sides to ease her into a trot down the gentle sloping hill. She used the moon as the only guiding light to where Acacius and the rest of the gladiator’s were imprisoned within the city.

A cloak over her head concealed her identity, and when she neared the Ludus Magnus, she slowed Luna to a walk before she carefully and quietly dismounted in a secluded area. She imagined that the structure would be well guarded, but after investigating the area, she discovered a side entrance that was well hidden by shrubbery.

The interior was dimly lit, with only a few torches providing limited light. As far as she could see, there were no guards keeping watch in the immediate vicinity.

She could hear the crackling of flames from the torches, and the scurrying of rats along the floor, and just as she was turning a corner to head down one of the many corridors, a hand reached through the darkness and clamped down around her mouth. She struggled in its grip as she was forced back against a hard chest.

“Well, well, well,” a darkened voice chuckled against the shell of her ear, holding her captive. “What do we have here?” The voice belonged to a male, one of the guards she had presumed. “A pretty little lamb that has wandered far from her flock? Perhaps the gods have finally answered my prayers!” he cackled gleefully.

Her voice was muffled against his hand as she continued to struggle in his grip. “Un-hand me!” she cried out, but it was useless.

“Absolutely not!” he laughed and with his freehand he blindly searched for the knot to her stola. Her eyes widened in fear, and she bit his hand that held her mouth captive as hard as she could. He let out a surprised yelp, and his hand instinctively loosened around her mouth just enough for her to wriggle out of his grip, but he recovered quickly and shoved her roughly against a nearby wall. “Stupid fucking bitch!” he spat and unsheathed his dagger. “You’ll pay for that,” he snarled and pressed the edge of the blade against her throat. “Been waiting for something pretty to stick my cock into. I’ll give you a real reason to scream, whore.”

“Wait!” she yelled in fear. “If you release me now, I will see to it that you are rewarded!”

He narrowed his eyes, brows pinched together and dragged the tip of his blade down the column of her throat, but he didn’t get very far, not with the iron collar on her neck blocking the path of his blade. There was even a tag dangling in the middle of it, and when he leaned in closer, he could make out the engraved lettering: Si repertus sum, Cassium me senatorem redde. Retribuetur vobis. (If I am found, return me to Senator Cassius. You will be rewarded)

The guard stowed his dagger back into its sheath. “I wonder how well rewarded I will be when I return you to your Dominus,” he mused with a grin.

“You will be rewarded less if you have come to harm me. My Dominus will not take it lightly if there is even a scratch upon me,” Aurelia said boldly.

“Senator Cassius will reward me for what I feel is owed,” he snapped and grabbed her roughly by her forearm.

“Before you return me to him, I have one request,” she winced from his tight grip on her arm. “Must you handle me so roughly? I will go without a fight, I assure you.”

“I don’t believe you’re in the position to be requesting anything of me,” he scoffed and started to drag her towards the exit, but she dug her heels into the ground in an attempt to slow him down.

“Please!” she cried. “It is one simple request,” she pleaded. “I can offer you more than just coin if you agree!”

He sneered at this and loosened his grip around her arm. He turned around and faced her fully. “Is that so?” his eyes trailed down her body, lingering at the gentle swell of her covered breasts, and the curve of her hips. He licked his lips in anticipation. “Perhaps I can be…persuaded.”

She fought the urge to turn her nose up in disgust at the way he was violating her with his eyes alone.“I will give you what you want, and I will not fight it. But in return, you will show me where the gladiator Acacius resides.”

“Acacius?” he questioned with a scoff. His frame towered over her and his eyes held nothing short of malice in them. “What’s a pretty thing like you want him for, hm?”

She refused to make direct eye contact with him and turned her head to the side. “It does not concern you.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I think it does concern me and unless you want me to make it hurt, I suggest you start talking. Don’t be so naive to think that just because your Dominus would be angered to see his prized whore scuffed up, that I won’t be cruel.”

Aurelia had always found it morbidly fascinating to experience just how quickly men would resort to threatening violent measures if women did not immediately give them what they wanted. She had experienced this exact scenario many times with Cassius, and by now she was numb to the mistreatment and cruelty she endured almost daily. Her heart, nonetheless, would always sink to the pit of her stomach whenever situations like this would arise.

Were all men truly this cruel?

He studied her intently, and when she didn’t respond, he grabbed her chin between two fingers and forced her to look at him. “Do you want to fuck him, is that it?” he questioned her dryly, amusement dripping in his tone.

“I beg your—”

“Oh, don’t act like you’re pure all of sudden. Besides, it was a fair question.You think you’re the only whore that has skipped down here in hopes to lay with a gladiator?” he snorted. “You’ll be met with sheer disappointment m’afraid. I heard a rumor that all of the gladiators were gelded.”

She fought her immediate urge to glare at him and his wild accusations.“I do not wish to lay with him.”

“Sure, sure,” he waved her off dismissively. “That's what they all say.”

“Well, rest assured, that is not why I am here. I just found his act of defiance in the arena today…admirable,” She admitted truthfully.

“Admirable?” he released her chin only to grab her by the waist and yanked her roughly in his grip so her chest collided with his own. “Defying the emperor’s command is admirable? Hm. I’m sure that’s exactly the reason why he was punished for his merciful actions then.”

Her face fell at his words. Was she too late? Was Acacius beaten to death for his defiance? No, he couldn’t be. The guard was just toying with her vulnerability. Acacius was surely alive. He must be.

“Don’t look so sad, whore. Acacius is still breathing. I’ll gladly escort you to his cell, after you complete your end of the deal, of course,” he said with a twisted sneer.

A deal is a deal, after all.

____

Just down the corridor, in a compacted cell, Marcus Acacius laid in filth. His bed, the single form of comfort that he had, was stripped from him, and he was forced to sleep upon the cold, unforgiving floor. His ankles were bound in iron, shackled to the stone wall, and his back was bare. The lacerations on his marred skin had since begun to crust over with dried blood, but he was badly wounded and received no care. His dreams were restless, and images of his mother flashed behind his trembling eyelids.

Let me go home, please. I wish to feel her gentle embrace. To hear her voice. Gods, take me out of my misery, I beg you.

“In this life and the next, you will always be my son, but your time has not yet come, Marcus. There is much life you have left to live. Remember, you must continue to be brave, gentle, just and compassionate. No matter what life throws your way, promise me you will always remain true to your heart and the values I have instilled in you.”

“How can I be brave, gentle, just, and compassionate in a world that is so cold, and has only been cruel to me?”

“You have to believe in your heart that there is goodness left in this world. There is kindness you have yet to experience, my son. Do not close the door on the possibilities of happiness. There is evil, yes, but there is also light in this world, Marcus. There is hope and there is love that dwells even in the darkest of places.”

Her image began to fade from his conscience as his body began to stir and wake at the sound of approaching footsteps, and hushed voices.

“Wait! Please, don’t go! Mother, please!” he called for her in his dreams and his hand reached for her in the darkness, but he grasped nothing but cold, damp air between his calloused fingers.

“Why has no one tended to his wounds?” a soft, feminine voice filtered in through his semi-conscious state.

“The orders were not given,” the guard, who Acacius knew as Cato, said to her in a hushed tone.

“Well, I am giving them. If his wounds are not treated soon, they will fester and he will die of infection,” she whispered in urgency.

“What do I look like to you? A charity service?” Cato laughed, and the sound grated Marcus’s ears.

“Please, just fetch me a pail of water, and do so quickly.”

Cato let out a grumbled sigh and nodded before turning on his heel and walked back the direction they had come from with little urgency in his pace. He was unsure as to why he was so willing and compliant to obey her request, but did little to question it.

Acacius sensed her presence as she knelt on the floor outside of his cell. Who was she? Why had she come? What was her purpose? Questions ran wild in his head.

She was relieved when she could just barely make out the shaky rise and fall of his chest, and the wheeze of labored breaths escaping through his chapped, parted lips. The pale moonlight from a single window in the cell, casted an eerie glow upon his severed and torn back and the stench of death permeated her senses.

He will not die tonight, this is certain. I will save him. She was determined.

“Sir!” she whispered through the stagnant air, not wanting to raise her voice enough to startle him from his rest.

Acacius, however, did not stir from his light slumber, and even when she rattled the steel bars that kept him imprisoned from her, and her from him, between her fists, he laid there, unmoving except for the slight twitch of his hand that was still outstretched, as if he had been reaching for something in the never ending darkness that consumed him.

“Acacius, please! You must—”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his name leaving her lips like a plea, and out of reflex he immediately reached for his sword, forgetting that it was no longer on his person. He was in a daze, feeling delirious from dehydration and the unbearable pain he felt in his pulsing shoulder and in his back from the deep, exposed gashes that marred his beautiful tanned skin.

He let out a grunt as he struggled to pull himself up into an upright position from where he laid on his side. Every muscle and tendon in his body screamed at him to rest, his brain sensed danger until he whipped his head around and his hardened, and disoriented stare landed upon her.

“I mean you no harm, sir. I swear it,” her words were rushed as she wanted to reassure him that he had nothing to fear, not from the likes of her. She didn’t even have the desire to harm a mere fly.

“How do you know my name?” he rasped through clenched teeth. His voice was even deeper than she imagined, with an edge of hardened grit, but she could sense a warmth residing in his tone; hidden but unmistakable.

She opened her mouth to speak and explain herself, but Cato had poor timing and arrived with a pitcher of water and a vial of olive oil.

She tore her gaze from Marcus’s and glanced upwards at Cato with a desperate look in her eyes. “Unlock his cell.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“How am I to tend to his wounds if I am not in there with him?” she retorted.

“Di boni sint,” (Gods be good) Cato muttered under his breath and reached inside of his tunic pulling out a set of bronze keys. Acacius warily watched him from where sat.

The iron bars swung open, making a creaking sound along the hinges, and Marcus scrambled towards the wall till his back was met with cold hardness. His eyes widened with fear, and for a moment he was just a boy again and enduring the cruelty from a father who never wanted him.

“Peace, Acacius,” she said softly and rose to her feet. Her features were illuminated by the torch clasped in Cato’s hand and Marcus felt that the gods themselves were playing a cruel trick upon his already mangled brain. Surely, he was dreaming, for he had never gazed upon a maiden as beautiful as her. Was she even real? Or was she just a sick figment of his imagination? He did not notice the iron collar fastened around her dainty neck, he saw the softness in her eyes, a genuine kindness and warmth in them that he had not experienced for many years. He was awestruck.

“Gods, am I truly being blessed by Venus in the flesh?” he gasped. His eyes widened further before drooping from exhaustion. His mouth was dry, lips cracked and bleeding.

Cato couldn’t help but snicker at his delusions, but he was silenced by a stern look from her and quietly backed off.

“Leave us,” she said firmly, without looking at Cato and he retreated from the open doorway.

“Sir, I’m afraid you are mistaken. I am not the goddess Venus. I’m just…a girl,” she said quietly.

His fear manifested when she crouched down in front of him, the sincerity in her eyes did not fade, and she cautiously outstretched her hand in his direction. “I am here to help you, Acacius.”

His posture stiffened at this. His apprehension was apparent and he glowered in her direction. “I am not requiring your help, girl,” he hissed.

“You are untrusting of me, and I understand why, but if I do not tend to your wounds, they will fester and you will die,” she said soberly.

“Do you think I am not aware?” he scoffed. “Let them fester. Let me die. Why should you care what becomes of me?” he snapped.

She did not flinch or cower from his tone and her hand hovered near his reach, but he still did not acknowledge it. “I cannot allow you to die, Acacius. It is against my morals and nature.”

“Then you must be a figment of my imagination,” he muttered and turned his head to the side to stare at the wall. “Morals don’t exist here, my lady. Only suffering and death. It is only a matter of time,” he said defeatedly.

“I am as real as they come, I assure you.”

He tore his gaze from the nearest wall and looked upon her once more. He eyed her hand suspiciously, and then trailed his gaze across her face and down to her neck. His stare paused at the mark of ownership, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“You’re just a slave to the Empire…like me,” he whispered and his hand slowly rose from his side, brushing the brass tag attached to the collar. He expected her to flinch from his touch, but she did not.

He dropped his hand back to his side and sank further against the wall with a deflated sigh. He eyed the pail of water and vial of olive oil alongside her that would be used to cleanse his wounds, if he allowed it. “You have yet to answer my question, my lady. How do you know my name? How did you know where to find me? Who sent you?” he fired off questions that were buzzing in his brain.

“No one sent for me, Acacius. I came here on my own accord after watching you bravely fight in the arena today. That is where I learned of your name.”

“I wouldn’t say I was brave,” he said humbly. He eyed the collar around her neck once more, and despite his guarded demeanor, and his engrained nature to lash out like a wounded animal, his shred of empathy extends to her. “My lady, I mean no disrespect, but the Colosseum is no place for a selfless, kind soul such as yourself. You shouldn’t be exposed to such…brutality,” he trailed off.

“Acacius, I am no lady. I am just—a common whore. My Dominus takes great pleasure in watching you and other Gladiators fight to the death. I’d even say it’s his favorite event.”

“Who is your Dominus?” his question lingered heavily in the stagnant air.

“Senator Cassius.”

“He may have labeled you as a whore, but in my eyes…I see a lady,” he whispered without understanding just how greatly she appreciated that he saw what others did not.

“You are too kind, Acacius. Your words touch me.”

His grim, hardened demeanor quickly returns in the form of a deepened scowl on his face and he leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He inhaled a lungful of air, his chest expanding and then deflates as he released the air through his flared nostrils. “You truly should not be here. This is no place for a lady, and if something were to happen to you, I could not protect you. These chains bind me till the morning,” he said quietly and yanked on the chains that bound his ankles to stone for good measure. “You should leave immediately. Leave me to rot here.”

“Acacius, I cannot stomach leaving you here and allowing your wounds to fester. Not when you have done nothing to deserve the punishment you endured. Bravery should not be met with the cruel lash of a whip,” she reached her hand near his shoulder, to brush her fingers against his tarnished skin, but he recoiled from her touch and pressed himself further against the wall. He felt the torn skin on his back wailing for reprieve, but he grits his teeth to mask the pain.

“Bravery?” he seethed through clenched teeth. His pupils seemed to darken under the shallow guise of the pale moonlight. “My acts of mercy upon my opponent made me appear weak. As if my heart wasn’t forged in steel! As if my compassion for humanity means more than the pride I feel when my blade pierces through the hearts of my enemies! I am a gladiator. I was raised as a ruthless fighter as soon as I could grasp a sword!” he exclaimed. The whites of his eyes showed a faux fierceness, but hidden in the depths of brown, there was fear.

“I have the blood of the innocent on my hands. Killing has been ingrained in my being since I was a small boy! My duty and honor lies with the empire, to the Emperors. It is all I have ever known, and all that I will ever know,” he gritted out, but his voice wavered, trembling with each syllable spoken as if he was trying to convince himself that being a gladiator under the Emperor's rule was truly all he’ll ever amount to in life. That he would never know softness, or genuine—real love from another unfortunate soul like his own.

She felt his pain, heard it seep in through his somber tone, and saw it in his anguished expression on his rugged, gold-kissed face. He may have been a bloodthirsty warrior in the Emperor's eyes, but in her own softened gaze, she saw a frightened boy that had been broken, ripped apart by cruel hands. “No,” she said sadly, “You’re just a boy.”

Aurelia and Acacius were two sides of the same coin; slaves to the Empire and forced into a life of endless servitude, bowing at the feet of those born into riches with their fancy silks and golden adornments. Their cruel whips in their dominant hands, and overflowing goblets of wine in the other.

A heavy charged silence simmered in their close proximity. He could hear her heart beating from where he sat and the sharp inhale of breath that she took.

“Please leave me here, my lady,” he said quietly, tone deflated of any emotion. He was giving up, she was certain of it.

“Please, Acacius,” she tried one more time to break through his guarded exterior. “Let me help you.”

His feelings were conflicted, it was written across his face, between the furrow of his brows, the subtle pout of his lips, and the swirl of brown and flecks of gold in his irises. He wanted to fight against the softness inside of him that begged to be released. The part of him that he had buried for so many years. He wanted to fight it tooth and nail, barred teeth and sharpened claws ready to strike at a moment's notice, but he remembered the words his mother had spoken to him.

“There is evil, yes, but there is also light in this world, Marcus.”

Could this unnamed stranger be the light that his mother spoke of? Could she be his purpose? His reason to fight to see another day?

“Marcus,” he whispered, “my name is Marcus.”

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[valenrixo]

OMG, I love your writing!! Could I please request some more of the yandere femboy gamer?

of course!! thank you for the compliment 😋

This one got kinda long | insecure reader and yandere ! Shocker…

Yandere femboy gamer strikes again

Yandere femboy gamer who one day gets a anonymous message that you were gonna break up with him. He freaked out and as soon as you got back to work he clung to you but didn’t say anything.

“What’s wrong?” You asked a bit worried, usually he’d be chatting up a storm right now. You put your bag down and placed a hand on top of his head to try to get his attention.

“You’re gonna leave me…and i won’t be someone’s wife anymore…” you heard him pout, his voice slightly muffled from how he buried his face in your chest. You were about to respond before it clicked in your brain, “wife???” You thought looking down at him.

“You’re not gonna leave me are you!? I won’t let you! You’re mine! My spouse!” He suddenly sprung from your chest and looked up at you.

Yandere femboy gamer who made you lay in bed with him for the rest of the night cuddling and watching movies together, well as well as you could cuddle him while your feet were tied together and your arms.

Yandere femboy gamer who explains his favorite new game to you! One that he plays while you’re at work and you’re just over here with a deadpanned expression wondering why he tied you up in the first place.

Yandere femboy gamer who eventually unties you because his jealousy is gone. It wasn’t more than an hour that you were tied up but you still wondered how the hell that turned someone on.

Yandere femboy gamer who slipped out of the room for a moment and came back in a small frilly skirt before he started tying himself up and you realized what he wanted.

“Killian, it’s the middle of the night…shouldn’t we sleep??” You whispered trying to get the rope away from him.

“But….but…I want to be pounded…-“

“You can’t just say things like that!” You said red faced, not like you didn’t want to have sex with him you just wanted it to be the right time and being half awake from work is definitely not the right time for that. Especially since it’s your first time with him irl.

“So a no?..” he asked peering over his shoulder at you, you sighed and fidgeted with the frills of his skirt nervously. Was it the not the right time or were you just nervous that you wouldn’t be appealing to him.

He wiggled his ass a bit to entice you but seeing the insecurity in your eyes he stopped and untied himself, he plopped down in your lap.

“Fine, we won’t do it until you’re ready.” He muttered cuddling up to you, sure he was coco hungry but never enough to force you.

“You look pretty in the skirt—“ you complimented him

“Pretty like a wife?!” He squealed and turned around now straddling you.

“Yeah I guess..”

Yandere femboy gamer who calls himself your wife for some reason, you asked him once why and he just said because you two are basically married so he’s your wife. You didn’t question it any further because you knew he’d be crying again and asking if you were gonna break up with him.

Yandere femboy gamer who came to your work one day and demanded to see you because the one time he was streaming one of his chat members said you were cheating, all you were doing was typing boring numbers into the computer all day…

Yandere femboy gamer who forces you to be on call with him all day, him on mute just so he can hear your interactions with your coworkers.

Uhh I need to stop writing this now before it gets too long..

Requests open more yanderes coming soon please read my dos and don’ts before requesting.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Helo there! What do you think about Harry's and Neville's friendship? And the aspect of both of them possibily being the chosen one?

I like Neville and his dynamic with Harry, even if I don't think they're that close.

Like, Harry is more of a mentor for Neville with the DA rather than a friend who's a peer.

in fact, he barely spoke during D.A. meetings anymore, but worked relentlessly on every new jinx and countercurse Harry taught them, his plump face screwed up in concentration, apparently indifferent to injuries or accidents, working harder than anyone else in the room. He was improving so fast it was quite unnerving and when Harry taught them the Shield Charm, a means of deflecting minor jinxes so that they rebounded upon the attacker, only Hermione mastered the charm faster than Neville.

(OotP)

And I think Neville keeps looking up to him as a symbol and a leader less than as a person.

Nevertheless, his battered visage shone with happiness as he let go of Hermione and said again, “I knew you’d come! Kept telling Seamus it was a matter of time!”

(DH)

Neville kinda idolizes Harry in a way.

That's why I don't think they are particularly close, but they do care about each other. Harry feels a bit sorry for Neville and a little protective over him:

A hatred such as he had never known before was coursing through Harry like poison. He could see Black laughing at him through the darkness, as though somebody had pasted the picture from the album over his eyes. He watched, as though somebody was playing him a piece of film, Sirius Black blasting Peter Pettigrew (who resembled Neville Longbottom) into a thousand pieces.

(PoA)

“Doesn’t matter. They don’t want to spill too much pure blood, so they’ll torture us a bit if we’re mouthy but they won’t actually kill us.” Harry did not know what was worse, the things that Neville was saying or the matter-of-fact tone in which he said them.

(DH)

And he does trust Neville a lot. Both Harry and Neville have full faith in each other which I really like:

Dumbledore had died knowing that three people still knew about the Horcruxes; now Neville will take Harry’s place. There would still be three in the secret. “Just in case they’re—busy—and you get the chance—” “Kill the snake?” “Kill the snake,” Harry repeated. “All right, Harry, You’re okay, are you?” “I’m fine. Thanks, Neville.” But Neville seized his wrist as Harry made to move on. “We’re all going to keep fighting, Harry. You know that?” “Yeah, I—” The suffocating feeling extinguished the end of the sentence; he could not go on. Neville did not seem to find it strange. He patted Harry on the shoulder, released him, and walked away to look for more bodies.

(DH)

They have a sort of quiet understanding and while their friendship isn't super close, they do care about each other and like each other. They could've probably been good friends if they were given the chance to interact more. (That's another reason why I love DADA professor Harry with Herbology professor Neville to give them that chance)

Their dynamic, if they were to get closer, kinda reminds me of an older brother & a younger brother due to how much Neville looks up to Harry and how Harry is protective over Neville.

As for both of them being the Chosen One, well, they aren't both the Chosen One. Only Harry was Chosen at the end of the day. But, I think that by the end, Neville is a truer Gryffindor than Harry.

In book 7 Harry failed to retrieve the Sword of Gryffindor:

When Ron offered the sword, however, Harry shook his head. “No, you should do it.” “Me?” said Ron, looking shocked. “Why?” “Because you got the sword out of the pool. I think it’s supposed to be you.” He was not being kind or generous. As certainly as he had known that the doe was benign, he knew that Ron had to be the one to wield the sword. Dumbledore had at least taught Harry something about certain kinds of magic, of the incalculable power of certain acts

(DH)

The sword that only appears to a Gryffindor in need:

What was it, Harry asked himself (walking again), that Dumbledore had told him the last time he had retrieved the sword? Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat. And what were the qualities that defined a Gryffindor? A small voice inside Harry’s head answered him: Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart.

(DH)

rejected Harry, but embraced Neville:

In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle—

(DH)

Add to that Harry's use of Unforgivables in book 7, and I feel like Harry was supposed to embrace his Slytherin characteristics in this book as a theme of the narrative, you know? Like the rejection from the sword and Harry needing to be more cunning than ever should've been this sort of closure. Of Harry's understanding, not all Slytherins are evil and he himself is a bit of a Slytherin and embracing it. It would've worked so well with Snape's story and the themes of the book, truly a missed opportunity to not make this idea of Harry finally saying "yes Slytherin" instead of "not Slytherin", and embracing the fact he is a bit of a Slytherin while Neville, who was terrified to be in Gryffindor, who asked the hat to place him someplace else, embraced being a Gryffindor fully. They have kind of small parallel barley-there arcs in a way that I found interesting in my current reread of Deathly Hallows. Like, I feel there was an intention there, as Harry does feel he is less of a Gryffindor throughout this book, even though he still is, I'm talking about his feelings on the matter.

I think this idea is there, just not as explored as I would've liked it. It is just interesting that the Sword of Gryffindor chose Neville as the true Gryffindor but rejected Harry who is the Chosen One because he was chosen by the Heir of Slytherin. Idk, I feel like there is something there.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 11 - Home

@jegulus-microfic November 11, Word count 563

Previous part First part

Regulus cringed internally as he followed James, Sirius and Remus down the flight of stairs and out into the pouring rain. He had no idea what had possessed him to suggest the art show, but here he was clambering into the back of James’s car— apparently, Sirius had called eternal shotgun years ago—and on their way to the gallery on the other side of town.

“So when did you get into painting then?” Remus asked pleasantly while James and Sirius argued over what music they would put on. 

“Oh, er, I think I always liked art. Our house was full of dusty old oil paintings, and I was fascinated by how the artists had made it look like the eyes were following you. Took me years to figure out how to paint them.” Regulus answered, going into far more detail than he usually would with someone who was basically a stranger, but something about Remus made him want to spill his guts. He was so calm and sincere that Regulus had a hard time not trusting him. 

“Wait!” Remus gasped excitedly. “You know how to do that?” Regulus nodded. Remus grabbed both of Regulus’s hands in his and earnestly asked, “Can I commission a portrait of myself with the creepy eyes? I want to put it in Sirius’s office to freak him out.” Remus leaned conspiratorially. “He’ll hate it, but he won’t take it down in case he upsets either of us,” Regulus decided there and then that he was going to be very good friends with Remus Lupin. 

“You pay for the supplies, and I’ll do it just for the knowledge that Sirius will wig out every time he sees it.” 

“Deal,” Remus grinned at him mischievously and then grabbed the phone Sirius had plugged into the car’s speakers and put on NSYNC, to which two unhappy moans chorused from the front seats. “They both hate them, and I take great joy in singing the songs word for word as loudly as I can, so I’d cover your ears if I were you,” Remus warned before launching into ‘Bye Bye Bye’. Regulus grinned widely, loving how Remus was torturing his brother, not so much James, but this was just too much fun. He did something he never thought he’d do and he joined in. 

“I know that I can't take no more. It ain't no lie. I want to see you out that door. Baby bye bye bye.”

“Oh gods, there’s two of them,” Sirius complained as he put his hands over his ears. Remus leaned forward and prised Sirius’s fingers away from his head as the last verses started playing and sang loudly into the gap he’d made. 

“Bring it home Regulus!” Remus beamed, still holding Sirius’s hands away from his ears. So, Regulus did what he was told. He shuffled forward and scream-sang. 

“Don't really want to make it tough. I just want to tell you that I've had enough. It might sound crazy, but it ain't no lie. Bye bye.”

“We’re here,” James said as he pulled into the car park and found a parking space. He turned to Regulus with the most dazzling smile. “You have the most beautiful voice, my love, shall we go look at your beautiful art?” Regulus felt the blush coming before the heat even hit his face. James was a total menace.  

Next part

[devirnis]

Okay, after having a few days to process, I am allowing myself one vent post to get it out of my system and then it’s back to ✨positive vibes✨ only

If I see one more goddamn smarmy post about how “the writing was on the wall the whole time” (with the undercurrent of “you were too stupid to see it, I have the only valid interpretation”) I’m going to lose it

Had we not had 8x05, the breakup still would have bummed me out, but I would have said, you know what, fair, we didn’t see a whole lot of their relationship, a lot of it was fanon and headcanons. We had a good run. But we did get 8x05, apparently some of it filmed out of order knowing a breakup was coming, and what was the point? To be cruel? It felt like a slap in the face to people who liked that relationship.

They could have laid some groundwork to show some cracks in the relationship, but no. Ignoring disingenuous interpretations from people who have been rooting for the ship to crash and burn since day one, 8x05 established Buck & Tommy as a solid couple. Tommy gets along with Eddie, the three of them had great chemistry together. Tommy takes care of Buck when he’s hurt. Tommy thinks the curse is a bunch of bs (as does Eddie) but still went with Buck to have a funeral for a mummy. It’s like I watched someone cook an elaborate, delicious dinner for me and then they immediately threw it in the trash, and other people around me made fun of me for being blindsided and upset because I should have seen that coming.

I won’t pretend the general audience is a monolith who all have the same opinions. I’m sure there are people who don’t care and just shrugged their shoulders that another relationship of Buck’s fizzled out. But I have 2 friends who watch the show and aren’t Fandom Fans, and they are always my barometer for how people who don’t have brain rot (affectionate) feel about the show. One really liked the relationship, the other was neutral to mildly negative on it, and both of them agreed that it felt like the breakup came out of nowhere and made no sense given the context of the previous episode. So please stop pretending that it’s only BT fandom fans who have their knickers in a twist about how it played out.

If this isn’t leading to buddie, then I don’t want to see another love interest for either Buck or Eddie for the rest of the show. Tommy had so much potential to break the cycle of Buck’s love interests (and interviews from last season seem to support that they were aware of this and planning on utilizing that) and throwing it away feels like such a waste.

So yeah, instead of being just bummed, I’m pissed. I do not know if there was BTS drama or if Tim got some other grand idea for Buck’s storyline this season — but given how plots are adopted and dropped at rapid fire pace this season (something I was willing to forgive last season because of the shortened production timeline and fewer episodes), I’m highly skeptical that there’s any sort of overarching plan here.

I’ve never thought buddie would actually happen on the show, but I also never thought either Buck or Eddie would ever be anything other than straight, so I’d be happy to be proven wrong. I’m just a little jaded by seeing people doing a victory lap convinced that buddie canon is imminent when I think that they are giving the writers a lot more credit than they deserve for supposedly crafting this epic love story for the last five or so years when a lot of that is also just generous fanon interpretation. I need explicit confirmation within the show by the end of this season that at least one of them has caught feelings or I’m over entertaining the possibility it will actually happen.

I know the joy will come back. But I really hope the same plot lines playing out ad nauseam for every character stops because I’m getting a little tired.