#hope forgiving Roman will always anger me

[thepascalparadox]

Chapter Eight: Responsibility Above All 

Word Count | 5.9k Pairing | General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader OC Chapter Warnings | allusions to smut, switch pov

The General’s tent looked so different in the morning light. Last night, it had felt heavy with mystery and unease, the kind that made it impossible to relax. Perhaps it was the strangeness of the place—unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar surroundings—but now, everything seemed calmer. The soft rays of sunlight poured through the open flaps, making the candles from the night before seem unnecessary. A gentle breeze moved through the tent, replacing the sticky heat with something cooler, almost refreshing. You wondered if this change in the air would make it easier to say the difficult words you had prepared.

As expected, sleep never came to you. When the first light of dawn appeared, you decided to stop tossing in bed and face the day. Hours had passed with nothing but your thoughts: plans forming and silent prayers to the heavens, hoping for some divine guidance from your mother or father. Yet the silence of the gods remained unbroken, and you were left to face this moment alone.

In the corner of the tent, a wooden chest sat quietly. It was a gift from Lena, the General’s pregnant wife, filled with fresh dresses to replace the one torn from your ride through the woods. Her gesture had surprised you. You were so used to hollow kindness from people trying to gain favor with the Emperor’s daughter. But here, in this encampment, you had no title, no throne to sit upon. You were no longer a princess. Perhaps, just perhaps, Lena’s gesture came from a place of genuine goodwill. You made a mental note to thank her later, with sincerity.

The sound of footsteps interrupted your thoughts. Valerian, Lena, and Acacius entered the tent together.

For a brief moment, your eyes met Acacius’s. His expression was different from last night’s anger; instead, there was something else—something quieter, as if looking at you caused him pain. You forced yourself to ignore it. Your feelings didn’t matter right now. A leader couldn’t afford such weakness.

“Your Grace,” Valerian said, his tone casual, as though this decision was a simple one. “Have you reached your conclusion?”

“Be kinder, my love,” Lena interjected, her voice gentle but firm. “She is not one of your comrades to be addressed so carelessly.” She moved gracefully across the tent and settled into a chair near a modest table bearing fresh fruit. A quiet exchange passed between her and Valerian—an unspoken connection that only lovers share. His boyish, almost bashful smile hinted at a shared secret. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if the gods would ever grant you something even remotely resembling their bond. “Forgive us for the delay, my dear. This little one decided to make quite the fuss after all the excitement of last night.” Her hands rested protectively on her belly, caressing it with the tenderness of a mother. A gesture so natural, so familiar, that it stirred distant memories of your own mother.

“There is no need for further formality.” You stood, squaring your shoulders to project a confidence you did not entirely feel. “I have reached my decision. To do so, I had to set aside my personal desires and emotions. My duty is to the Roman people, just as my father’s always was. He would not have tolerated a usurper taking the city through unjust means. That is why I must marry General Acacius.”

You kept your eyes fixed on Valerian, unwilling to face Acacius and risk seeing the disdain you were certain must be etched on his features.

But if you had looked, you would have seen his expression shift. Surprise overtook his face, his breath caught in his throat, and for a heartbeat, his chest seemed to freeze mid-rise.

“My father despised war,” you continued, your voice firm and deliberate, “but he understood the cost of peace. He would never have wanted me to wed someone as corrupt as Macrelius, merely to appease the Senate. His memory must not be dishonored, and our people must be free from the tyranny of those men.” You finished your speech with as much resolve as you could muster, praying that your words conveyed the image of a determined and courageous leader. Yet beneath the surface, your heart trembled.

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

What, in the name of all the gods, was she doing?

Acacius mind replayed the events of the previous night with merciless clarity. Their encounter had spiraled out of control, unraveling in a way he hadn’t anticipated. To him, it had been obvious—marrying that man was never an option. Yet when you uttered those cursed words, that you would feel safer with Macrelius, something inside him had snapped.

He regretted his reaction, bitterly. His words, his tone—they had been unbecoming of a soldier, let alone a man who loved a woman. And love you he did. The realization had struck him with the force of an enemy’s blade. There was no other explanation for the jealousy that had clawed its way through him, no excuse for the way his chest burned at the mere thought of you choosing another. After storming out of your tent, he’d spent the night tangled in the memory of your voice, your expression, the pain etched into your every word.

For a fleeting moment, he’d considered returning to you, swallowing his pride to apologize. But what good would that have done? Surely, you would choose Macrelius. You deserved happiness, and if it lay with another man, then he would have no choice but to accept it. He would support it, even, if only to keep you safe.

But now—now you stood here, and your words shattered everything he thought he understood.

I must marry General Acacius.

The walls he had so carefully built around his heart crumbled in an instant. His breath caught, his pulse racing as though he were preparing for battle. His body screamed at him—fight or flee. But which was it to be? Should he run from you and the chaos you brought into his soul, or fight for this fragile, impossible thing between you? For the first time, Acacius questioned everything he had promised himself.

"Well, it seems you're very much decided, Princess," Valerian’s voice broke through the haze in his mind. “I can see your father left a great legacy. My wife will handle all the... womanly matters, given that she’s one of the few here not at home raising our son as I begged her to do a thousand times.” His tone was light, teasing, as he glanced at Lena, who responded with a knowing smirk.

"Wait," Acacius interrupted, his voice unsteady, almost desperate. "Do I not have a say in this?"

“To be honest, brother, you don’t,” Valerian replied, his tone soft yet firm. “We’ve already discussed this, and much to your dislike, you can’t escape marriage forever.”

Lena rose carefully, her movements slow under the weight of her pregnancy. “Perhaps they should have a moment alone,” she suggested, slipping her arm through Valerian’s. Her playful tone returned as she whispered, “Your son is crushing my ribs, and I need some air.”

As the couple left the tent, you turned to Acacius, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the rustle of the canvas around you. “I know this decision doesn’t bring you joy,” you began, your voice wavering. “But this is something I must do—for my people, for my father—”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, spilling the words in a rush as your fingers twisted nervously at the hem of your dress. The weight of his presence was unbearable, pressing down on you like a storm cloud.

“Lumina mea,” he interrupted, his hands reaching for yours. His touch was cold, trembling, yet his grip was firm enough to anchor you. He lowered his head, searching for your gaze until you finally lifted your eyes to meet his.

“Can you not see it?” His voice cracked, raw and unguarded. “My heart has been yours since that night in the gardens. I know I’m not easy to read, that my temper gets the better of me, but this—” He pressed your hand to his chest, where his heart pounded beneath your palm. “This belongs to you and always will. That’s why I must ask: are you sure you want this? If there’s even a single moment where you think you’d be happier with him, then please—choose him. I want you to be happy, and I’m not sure I can give you everything you deserve.”

The words hung in the air between you, fragile and uncertain, yet filled with a sincerity that made your chest ache. For the first time, the formidable General seemed vulnerable—a man standing on the precipice of love and fear, willing to sacrifice everything for your happiness.

"Why didn’t you say all of this earlier?" Your voice trembles, soft and almost fragile, as if it might shatter under the weight of the question. “You left me thinking you hated me, that you were toying with my feelings, and that the idea of marrying me was as dreadful as death…”

Your words trail off, but the pain they carry lingers in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and unrelenting. His silence feels louder than anything, and for a moment, you fear he won’t answer at all.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, his voice rough, each word deliberate. “I… I’m not very good at this. Expressing my feelings, I mean.” He pauses, the weight of his inadequacy evident in the way his shoulders slump slightly. “But I’ll do better—I promise you that.”

He lifts your hand, his grip both gentle and firm, and presses a kiss to the back of it. The warmth of his lips lingers on your skin, and for the first time, you see not the General, not the soldier hardened by years of war, but the man beneath.

A faint smile tugs at your lips, and you raise your eyes to meet his. “Well,” you say softly, “I suppose we’ll have to learn together then.”

Your smile grows, tentative but genuine, and in that moment, something unspoken passes between you. It’s a fragile understanding, a promise that neither of you could fully put into words but both feel with undeniable certainty.

Acacius watches you, his chest tightening with emotions he can barely comprehend. The vulnerability in your smile, the strength in your voice despite the hurt you’ve endured—it moves something deep within him. He makes a vow, silent and sacred, far greater than just learning to express his feelings.

He will become what you need, what you deserve. He will protect you with his very life if necessary, shield you from every storm, and make you the happiest woman alive. You deserve no less, and he will stop at nothing to ensure it.

The world outside the tent seems to fade, its demands and dangers momentarily forgotten. For now, there is only you and him, two souls caught in the uncertain but undeniable pull of something greater than either of you can name. And as he holds your hand, Acacius silently promises that, whatever trials await, you will face them together.

“Then I suppose... I shall see you at the altar.”

His words come softly, yet they carry a weight that lingers in the air between you. His lips curve into a gentle smile, one that feels uncharacteristically tender for the man you thought you knew. But it is not merely the smile that holds your attention; it is the way his eyes glisten, reflecting a light so unlike the fierce general you’ve come to recognize.

In that moment, the stoicism of his demeanor falters. There is something unguarded, vulnerable even, in his expression—a quiet joy that seems almost foreign to him, like a man stumbling upon a treasure he had long forgotten he desired.

And though the words are simple, their resonance stirs something deep within you. For the first time, the path ahead feels less like a sentence and more like a promise.

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

Lena seemed to embody the excitement of a child at a festival, her energy contagious as she flitted about the tent with determined purpose. She meticulously examined each piece of fabric brought by the other women in the camp, lifting them against the faint light filtering through the canvas walls. Her movements were quick, but precise, her brow furrowed in concentration as she matched the vibrant hues and textures to the dress you were already wearing.

“I’ll make this as beautiful as it can be, darling,” she declared, her tone both reassuring and commanding. “We don’t have much, but what we do have will suffice. A princess cannot be wed in anything less than perfection, can she?” Her eyes lingered on a silken strip of fabric before dismissing it with a wave of her hand, the discarded piece falling to the floor without ceremony.

You stood silent, offering only a timid smile in response. Words felt unnecessary, or perhaps they simply escaped you in this moment. The nervousness coursing through your veins dulled your wit, leaving you unable to summon even the most mundane pleasantries.

Lena paused in her whirlwind, her gaze softening as she seemed to sense your unease. She stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on her hips as she regarded you with a kind, sisterly expression.

“You know,” she began, her voice quieter now, almost conspiratorial. “I grew up surrounded by men. Soldiers, generals, and war councils... it was a world of steel and strategy. But now that you are to marry my brother...” Her voice trailed off as her face brightened with a smile that could rival the sun. “It feels as though I’m finally gaining a sister, you know?”

Her confession took you by surprise, but it brought a warmth to your chest that you hadn’t expected. Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a gentle squeeze. “Of course. And as sisters, you must stop with all this ‘princess’ and ‘your majesty’ nonsense. We are family now.”

Lena’s smile grew impossibly larger, and with a playful tilt of her head, she returned to rifling through the collection of garments, humming softly to herself.

The silence that followed weighed heavily, and at last, you found yourself speaking, your voice hesitant and quiet. “It’s just... I feel so nervous. I’ve been preparing for this my whole life, but even though I don’t mind having a modest wedding, everything feels so strange, so foreign. And then, of course, there’s your brother...”

Lena froze mid-motion, her face clouding with concern as she turned to you sharply. “Did he mistreat you?”

“Oh, no!” you answered quickly, your cheeks coloring at the implication. “Quite the opposite. He’s... well, he’s quite a man.” Your voice faltered, your gaze falling as a shy smile played on your lips. Memories of your fleeting moments with Acacius flooded your mind, and you felt the heat rising to your face.

Lena’s sharp expression softened, her lips curving into a knowing grin. She took your hand and led you to the edge of the cot, sitting beside you with the air of someone eager for a tale. “Tell me everything!”

“There’s not much to tell,” you admitted, though the warmth in your voice betrayed the fluttering in your chest. “At first, I thought he liked me. We even... kissed, the very night we met. But then he began avoiding me, and I convinced myself that he merely tolerated my presence.”

Lena shook her head, her laughter light and musical. “My brother is as thick-headed as a stubborn mule. I’ve long given up trying to understand what goes on in that mind of his.”

“Well, I was certain he would despise the idea of marrying me. But now that I know... that our feelings are mutual...” You trailed off, your laughter nervous. “I don’t know what to do!”

Lena’s expression turned mischievous as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re not... worried about the wedding night, are you?”

Your face burned at the mere suggestion, and the look of mortification you shot her made her giggle softly. Sensing your discomfort, she quickly reassured you.

“There’s nothing to fear,” she said warmly. “My brother may be brash and unpolished, but he cares for you. He will be gentle, and I dare say you’ll find the experience far more enjoyable than you might expect.” She stood abruptly, her hands on her lower back as she stretched, her pregnant belly shifting slightly with the motion. “Now come, they’ll be arriving shortly with a priest from the nearest village. You must look splendid.”

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

You hadn’t expected his touch to feel this way, warm and steady, grounding you amidst the whirlwind of the evening. His hand enveloped yours, fingers lightly brushing against your skin as if unsure whether to hold tightly or let you slip away. For a fleeting moment, you dared to glance down, marveling at the contrast—the roughness of his calloused palm against the softness of your own.

The two of you sat together on the raised wooden dais, a place of honor reserved for newlyweds. The crude yet sturdy chairs bore wreaths of laurel and wildflowers, their fragrance mingling with the smoky aroma of the fire that roared in the heart of the encampment. Beyond the flickering flames, figures danced in jubilant abandon, their laughter and voices lifting to the heavens as a hymn to Jupiter.

The great fire commanded the center of the celebration, its crackling embers leaping skyward as if eager to carry the prayers of those gathered. Around it, offerings were laid with care—baskets brimming with fresh grains, clusters of vibrant blossoms, and small carved idols placed as tokens of devotion. Each gift was a plea for blessings, a promise of prosperity, and a hope that this union, like the fire itself, would burn bright and enduring.

The golden light of the late afternoon bathed the assembled crowd, casting long shadows over the neatly arranged rows of soldiers. The air buzzed softly with murmured prayers and the rustle of ceremonial garb. The priest, adorned in pristine white robes, stood beneath a canopy of crimson, his hands steady as he prepared for the ancient rite.

Before the him stood Aemilia and Acacius, their hands freshly cleansed and now clasped together in the sacred Dextrarum Iunctio, the joining of right hands—a gesture both symbolic and binding. Their gazes met briefly, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them, but Acacius quickly looked forward, his expression a stoic mask.

The priest began the invocation, calling upon Jupiter Optimus Maximus to witness the vows and bless this union forged for the stability of Rome. When it was Aemilia’s turn to speak, she inhaled deeply, her voice carrying across the crowd, steady but heavy with meaning.

"Before the gods and in the sight of this great assembly, I, Aemilia, pledge my hand and my heart to this union. For the good of Rome, I offer my loyalty, my strength, and my honor. In joining our destinies, we create something greater than ourselves, for together, we are stronger than apart."

Her words were measured, deliberate, and though the sentiment was laced with duty, the softness in her tone hinted at her resolve to see this bond through—not out of passion, but out of a deep-rooted sense of responsibility.

Acacius followed, his voice firm but slower, as if weighing every word. "Before Jupiter and all who bear witness, I, Acacius, accept this union with Aemilia. I vow to protect, to honor, and to uphold the promises made here today. For the strength of Rome and the legacy of our people, I take this bond as sacred, unyielding."

He hesitated for the briefest of moments, his hand tightening slightly around hers as if grounding himself. "Though our paths have converged not by chance, I will strive to be a partner worthy of this alliance and the trust it commands."

The priest raised his hands in blessing, intoning the ancient words that finalized the pact. A soldier stepped forward, carrying a thin strip of woven cloth, red and gold, which he carefully wrapped around their joined hands—a symbol of their intertwined fates.

As the vows ended, the murmurs of the crowd fell silent, the weight of the ceremony settling like a gentle shroud. Aemilia glanced at Acacius, whose face betrayed no emotion, yet his grip remained firm. For all the political undertones of this marriage, the act of clasping hands, the solemnity of the vows, and the blessings of the gods bound them together in a way no strategy could sever.

“You feel tired? Do you wish to retire?” His voice was a low whisper, a soft murmur that brushed against your ear. His face, illuminated only by the flickering moonlight and the warm glow of the fire, looked somehow different now. There was a hint of redness in his cheeks, a glow that spoke not of exhaustion but of the wine that had loosened the air around you both. It was just enough to make him seem more at ease, more human, yet not enough to dull his sharp gaze.

“I do wish for a little quiet, I’ll admit,” you replied, offering him a shy smile, the words escaping more from nervousness than desire. “But you can stay, enjoy the festivities."

“Oh, I will not,” he said, shaking his head, his voice light yet firm. “These festivities are for both of us. And if you are not here, then there is no reason for me to stay.” He pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand, and as he did, you noticed the gesture had become almost habitual. And strangely, you realized how much you had come to cherish it. “And a husband,” he added with quiet certainty, “I shall follow you wherever you are.”

“Well, if you say so...” you smiled, a little bashful beneath his teasing tone, yet it stirred something warm inside you.

He called to Valerian, murmuring something to him, and moments later, the crowd’s attention was drawn to the space before the fire, signaling the beginning of a special dance.

“This is our cue,” Acacius said, his tone playful, almost boyish, as he gave you a mischievous look, his eyes gleaming with a shared secret. “Let us flee before anyone notices.”

“Oh, so now I see how strategic the great General of Rome is!” you teased him, your voice carrying lighthearted mockery. “What a meticulous plan, indeed.”

He guided you, his hand firm in yours, leading the way as he walked ahead. “So you laugh at me?” he quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I rescue you with a successful plan, and what I get in return is mockery?” His tone was far from angry. In fact, it was the opposite—his humor was infectious. Your teasing had managed to draw out a genuine laugh from him, a sound that, for some reason, filled you with ease.

“Does the soldier wish something different for rescuing a princess in distress, like me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in playful defiance.

“Well, I do have some things in mind...” His voice dropped an octave, deepening with an unfamiliar edge. You had never heard him speak like this before. With a flick of his wrist, he opened the tent flap, gesturing for you to enter.

Inside, the space was breathtaking. The soft glow of candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, their light warm and inviting. The bed in the center was draped with white cushions, a serene haven in the midst of the night’s revelry. You looked at Acacius with a nervous glance, the anxiety stirring within you like a whirlwind.

“I asked Lena to make our chamber as comfortable as possible,” he said, his voice light, though you could hear the faint hesitation beneath. “I hope... I hope it suits you.” He stepped ahead, close to the bed, as though unsure of what to do next.

You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Your mother had spoken of certain things, and Vera, in her own way, had offered her limited knowledge during those quiet late nights you shared. But now, in this moment, all that seemed distant, irrelevant. The air was thick with uncertainty.

Noticing your unease, Acacius reached out, his hand extended with gentleness. “Come,” he said softly, his tone laced with warmth. You hesitated but moved toward him, your fingers finding the comfort of his hand. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want tonight,” he continued, his voice steady but kind. “I will never, ever force myself upon you, I promise.”

You lowered your gaze, the nerves flooding your chest, your voice trembling slightly as you spoke. “I truly don’t know what to do... I don’t want to disappoint you, but I am, one hundred percent, nervous.”

He gently lifted your chin with his thumb, his touch both firm and tender. “What about we continue from that night in the palace garden?” His words, though simple, brought an unexpected calmness to your fluttering heart. His reassuring smile made the world seem just a little less daunting, and for a brief moment, you felt as though it was okay to be vulnerable, to be unsure.

With a shy nod, you closed the distance between you, your lips finding his in a soft kiss—a quiet promise, a tentative step toward something new, yet familiar.

His lips met yours with a tenderness that belied the strength of his embrace. His hands moved with deliberate care, one encircling your waist to draw you nearer, the other cradling the nape of your neck as though safeguarding a fragile treasure. A fire kindled within you, growing with every heartbeat, and the desire to be closer—to dissolve entirely into him—overwhelmed you.

When he pulled away, it was only just enough to speak, his lips brushing yours as his breath mingled with your own. “I say we do this…” His voice was slightly uneven, breathless in a way that made your pulse quicken. “I’ll lead, but if at any moment you wish me to stop, if anything feels wrong—just say so. Do you understand?”

Your throat felt dry, and the words caught there for a moment before you nodded.

His brow furrowed slightly, and he tipped your chin to meet his gaze, his tone soft but firm. “I need to hear it, mea formosa.”

You swallowed the nerves tightening your chest and managed to whisper, “I will say it… husband.”

The word seemed to ripple through him, his entire frame shivering with a desire so palpable it left you breathless. His forehead pressed lightly to yours as his voice dropped, almost a growl. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Before you could respond, his lips found the curve of your neck, tracing a slow, reverent path that left you gasping. A hum escaped you—whether in agreement, question, or sheer surrender, you could not tell. Words had deserted you, scattered like leaves in a tempest.

He chuckled softly against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. “Nothing to say now, hmm?” His voice carried a teasing lilt, playful yet intoxicatingly deep.

You couldn’t help the way your lips curved into a smile, though your breath came in shallow gasps. He always had this effect on you—the ability to coax laughter, longing, and love all at once, as if his very existence were a melody only you could hear.

The tension in the air shifted, transforming from anxious uncertainty into something tender and filled with trust. He leaned forward, capturing her lips once more in a kiss that was unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world. His hands moved with deliberate care, one cradling the back of her neck, the other tracing the curve of her waist. Each touch ignited a spark within her, building a warmth that spread through her entire being.

Aemilia let out a soft, involuntary sigh as his lips trailed from hers to her jaw, then to the sensitive skin of her neck. She tilted her head, granting him better access, her fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic. “Acacius,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands trembling as they began to explore his broad shoulders and down his arms.

He guided her to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he were afraid to shatter the fragile intimacy that enveloped them. When they sat together, she felt the tremor in his hands as he gently brushed her hair away from her face. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “Do you know that?”

Aemilia’s blush deepened, but a newfound confidence stirred within her. “You...” she said softly, her tone carrying a playful edge, “you are not so bad yourself.”

His laughter was quiet but genuine, and the sound eased the lingering tension in her chest. “Not so bad? Coming from you, I shall consider it as gesture of your kindness” he teased, leaning closer, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth.

As the layers of clothing fell away, the barriers between them dissolved as well. She could feel his hesitation mingling with her own, yet his touch never wavered. He moved as though she were something precious, his fingertips tracing patterns along her skin that sent shivers down her spine. And when his hands trembled, she placed hers over his, steadying him.

“Acacius,” she whispered, her voice more assured now, “I want this. I want you.”

Her boldness surprised them both, but it was the spark he needed to fully let go of his own reservations. “You have all of me, Aemilia,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “Now and always.”

As the night unfolded, the initial hesitance melted away, replaced by a growing confidence in each other’s embrace. She surprised herself with the way she responded to his touch, her hands exploring the contours of his body with an eagerness she hadn’t known she possessed. He, in turn, was captivated by her courage, her willingness to meet him halfway and then some.

In the dimly lit room, shadows danced along the tent, casting an air of quiet intimacy. The soft rustle of fabric was the only sound that accompanied the slow, tender movements between them. She, poised yet determined, gently guided him back, her touch sending a shiver through him. Her eyes, darkened with a depth of feeling, met his, and in that fleeting moment, she pushed him back gently, taking the lead in a way that left him breathless.

"Want you so badly, it almost aches," he whispered, his voice low and thick, laden with both admiration and an undeniable hunger. The words hung between them, as if the very air was charged with unspoken desire.

She allowed herself a small, knowing smile, her lips curling ever so slightly as a mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. "That bad?" she teased, her voice soft but laden with a certain playfulness. "Well, coming from you, I shall take that as a gesture of your kindness."

He laughed, a warm sound that filled the space, and his fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch lingering on her skin. "It's not kindness," he said with a sincerity that made his words feel almost like a vow. "It's the truth. I can't fathom a life where you're not in my arms every moment. How could I bear such a thing?"

She gazed at him, her expression softening, the playfulness in her eyes replaced by something deeper, something quieter. Her hand, still resting against his chest, gave a gentle press, as if urging him to quiet his thoughts.

“Let’s not think of that,” she murmured, her voice low, the words like a delicate sigh, almost a plea.

He looked at her, as if trying to decipher the meaning behind her words. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze holding his with an intensity that made him forget everything but the two of them, standing there in a world of their own making.

A breath caught in his chest, and for a moment, it seemed as though time itself had paused, leaving them suspended in that quiet space between what was said and what remained unspoken. His fingers grazed her cheek, the touch almost reverent, as if every part of him ached to hold onto this moment, to keep her here, with him, as the rest of the world faded away

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

When their breaths finally slowed and they lay entwined beneath the soft glow of the candles, a comfortable silence settled over them. His fingers traced lazy circles on her bare shoulder, and she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

She bit her lip, already feeling the warmth of embarrassment creeping up her neck. "I apologize if I’m going beyond some limit by asking," she began, her voice soft and hesitant, as though she were testing the waters of a delicate subject. "But… I feel like I should know, perhaps… Or I’m just curious, and I wish to know. I’m your wife, and I believe we should know some details of each other’s lives."

Her voice trailed off, and she realized she might have spoken more than she intended, her words almost mumbling now, as though retreating into herself. Her heart fluttered, uncertainty swelling in her chest.

"Out with it," he said, his tone light, yet there was a warmth there that softened the words. His hand found its way to her side, pinching her gently, the touch playful, even affectionate, easing some of the tension.

She hesitated, feeling her breath catch in her throat before she spoke again, lifting her gaze from his chest to meet his eyes. "Have you ever�� done this before?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her heart raced as she sought the truth in his expression, wondering how he would answer, what that truth might be.

He froze for just a heartbeat, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words, the right way to explain. The seconds seemed to stretch on forever, leaving her to wonder if perhaps he wouldn't answer at all. But then, his voice broke the silence, serious and steady. "I was raised differently, so yes," he replied, his gaze steady, his words deliberate. "I have done it before."

She could feel a ripple of discomfort pass through her, but before she could let the silence grow too thick, he reached for her hands, his fingers gentle against hers. He held them there for a moment, still, the weight of his touch grounding her. "But this..." he continued, his voice softer now, as if he were confessing a truth that had only just occurred to him. "This is new to me as much as it is new to you. It never felt like this."

The words lingered in the space between them, charged with something deeper than she had expected. She could feel the sincerity in his tone, the truth in his touch. For a moment, time seemed to pause, and in that pause, she realized that this, what they were sharing, was something entirely their own, something neither of them could quite put into words, yet both understood fully.

[andreal831]

Please tell me you don't blame Elijah for Hayley's death because all too many already do.

I am like jeez he didn't have his memory in the first place to save his family or specifically Hope!!!

That man did everything he could for her and he loved her moreover he fell for her even without his memory, like what more do y'all want now from him???

PS: I also think he died at the end not just cause of Klaus's death but also cause his grief was too much for him to bear, why else would he leave his family, hope alone?

What you think?

I'll never blame Elijah for Hayley's death and will fight anyone who does. It typically comes from Klayley stans, so I made a tik tok to explain that logic: here.

My biggest gripe with it is the writers clearly did it to prop Klaus up as being the best man for everyone and adding onto Elijah's despair to kill him off. Klaus got to somehow play the victim in Hayley's death. The show made it more about him than even Hope or Hayley.

But yes, Elijah erased his memories to protect his family. People love to call him a hypocrite because he tried to have morals but would always cross them for family. Elijah erasing his memories was him trying to do the right thing because he realized this about himself. Talk about character development. He knew that, even if it would jeopardize some of his family, if Klaus needed him, he wouldn't be able to help himself. So he erased himself. He essentially killed himself. And the fandom somehow makes Klaus the victim in even that. If the show was going to do all that, might as well have just given all of the Hollow to Elijah and staked him (plug for my story, Last Sacrifice, on AO3 and WP).

So after Elijah essentially commits suicide for his family, he finally gets to live. But not really him. Some guy who doesn't know anything gets to live. How Marcel, Vincent, and Elijah thought that would be a good idea is beyond me. So he is released into the wild with no protection and Antoinette essentially takes advantage of it. I could never get into them as a ship after finding out she knew who he was the whole time. He is with her for seven years (his longest relationship) and even engaged to her. Enter Greta who convinces him that his family is in danger. Yes, Antoinette was his family so Greta and Roman were his family by extension. And we know how protective Elijah is about family.

And yes, he does know he's technically a Mikaelson and they are technically his family. But he also knows they are terrible people and has no emotions to go with that knowledge except the normal disgust one feels when looking at random mass murderers. They mean nothing to him. He walks into that house believing Klaus is there to kill his almost brother-in-law. He then sees "Andrea" and likely realizes it is Hayley. But again, no emotions are attached to the name Hayley. He may have been attracted and felt a connection to Andrea, but he is actively realizing their evening together was a lie. That she hid her identity from him and he isn't sure why, but knowing what he knows about the Mikaelsons, he doesn't trust it. Granted he is processing all of this in seconds. He looks around, sees Hayley and Greta in a fight, sees Roman and Hope unconscious on the floor, and see Klaus moving forward, unsure where he is headed. He doesn't help Greta, he doesn't involve himself in the Mikaelsons, he simply stops Klaus and moves to rescue Roman.

Yes, it sucks that seeing Hayley didn't just break the compulsion, but that's not how this world works. He didn't even know he wanted to fight the compulsion so he didn't. What he did fight was the compulsion to make him remember. As soon as the emotion started to come back and he realized Hayley was dead, he fought the compulsion to stop it for days. He'd rather never remember a moment of his life than live with the fact that Hayley was dead.

The argument really falls apart when, as you said, you point out the true Elijah. Anytime the writers wanted to cause issues for haylijah, they had to push Elijah into OOC. When she went behind the red door and he was the monster he was afraid to become and then when he literally erased who he was. Elijah with memories would have found Hayley even faster than Klaus cause he wouldn't have wasted any time. He would have gotten there before they even had time to bind her wolf side. Hell, he would have realized she was missing right away and found her before Greta kidnapped her. The only way they could have Elijah not save Hayley was to completely erase him.

I've talked about Elijah's decision to die by Klaus' side: here and here. To me, Elijah was always a bit suicidal so it didn't take much to push him there. Losing Hayley was the last straw because not only did he lose her, but he lost Hope. Klaus or Freya blamed him for Hayley's death and Hope hated him for it. Rebekah was ready to run off with Marcel, Kol with Davina, Freya and Keelin were moving on. Elijah was utterly alone. I think it had less to do with Klaus than to do with Elijah just having nothing to live for. I hate how people make even Elijah's death center around Klaus.

Klaus could have lived for Hope but chose not to. Elijah was going to die either way because he didn't want to live anymore. A lot of that was due to losing Hayley. Maybe if he had a better bond with Hope or anyone in his family had put effort into being there for him, it could have been different.

Thank you for the ask! I'm kind of sad that you would even think that of me! (Jk! I realized I've never spoken about it on here <3)

[faithfulreflections]

The Parable of the Prodigal Son

The Parable of the Prodigal Son, as recounted in Luke 15:11-32, is a testament to the depth of God's forgiveness and unwavering love. This story introduces us to the loving Father, the disobedient Prodigal Son, and the angry Elder Son, through whom Jesus conveys profound spiritual truths that should fill us with awe and reverence. 

"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). After squandering his inheritance, the younger son makes a pivotal decision that fills us with hope and resolves to return home. This repentance signifies the transformative power of recognizing our sins and seeking God's forgiveness. The Father's immediate action of running to meet his son, embracing him, and ordering a grand celebration captures the essence of God's grace. "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). 

The Father's actions are not just a response to his son's return but a profound reflection of God's grace. The robe, the ring, and the sandals symbolize more than reinstated sonship and honor; they reflect how God forgives and restores our identity and dignity in His family. "I tell you that in the same way, there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent" (Luke 15:7). 

The older son's reaction is not just a character attribute but a profound lesson on self-righteousness and the importance of grace. "Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment" (Romans 12:3). His resentment reminds us to embrace humility and mercy. The Father's compassionate response, "My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours" (Luke 15:31), emphasizes God's freely given love and blessings, filling us with gratitude and humility. 

"The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love" (Psalm 103:8). This parable encourages us to lead lives characterized by repentance, humility, and joy in God's presence. Reflecting on 2 Corinthians 5:17, we become new creations through Christ, embracing the latest and leaving behind the old. Let us seek the Lord with repentant hearts, rejoicing in His restoration and renewal. 

May we fully embrace our roles as recipients of God's grace, extend that grace to others, and experience the transformative power of His love. 

P.S. Please look at the links below for a detailed discussion of the blog post.

Detailed Blog Post

[hughiecampbelle]

Hard To Love (Roman Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Roman

Word Count: 1,210

Inspired By: Puke by Ava Maybee I loveeeee this song

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: This is definitely for therapy lol I hope no one minds. Ya gurl feels very unlovable atm. Idk. It stems from something someone said to me once, someone who is supposed to love me unconditionally, they said I am hard to love. Of course I forgive them, I love them, but it still stings y'know? Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Is there something wrong with me? You don't know if you’ve spoken the words or only thought about them. Either way he rocks you both back and forth, arms around you, hushing your fears. Your cheek is pressed against his chest, his heartbeat rapid, playing a tune you can’t quite name. Is there? There must be. Some innate, genetic wrongdoing. Something must be missing from you to make you this way. Sensitive. Forgotten. An easy target. They shoot their arrows into you, through you, but you always come crawling back. Always. The pain, the blood loss, the look in their eyes, none of that matters. You don’t matter. They know they can do whatever they want and you’ll cling to them like a lost child. Because they’re your family. Because they’re supposed to love you unconditionally. But they don’t. And that is not a fault on their part, but your own. You have done something to make them hate you, you have done something to make them turn on you, it is all your fault. You’ve seen them love others the way you have wanted to be loved. You have seen them be so caring, so devoted, so in love with someone it breaks you into pieces. It threatens to undo your very soul. There is something about you that is so undeserving, so unlovable, so broken that they could never fathom treating you that way. They could never see you as something to care for, to give a second thought. 

Is it my fault? No, he fights back, no, no, never. But he’s wrong, biased, blinded. You’ve done a good job fooling him. Everything is. Right? Everything, everyone’s emotions, their well-being, it’s all on you. You take care of them. You heal their wounds. You dry their eyes. And in return, you get nothing. You are forgotten. His arms grow tight around you, together, stronger, as if he thinks holding you will keep your brokenness from showing. Pieces of you slide off his lap, shattering against the ground. You want to fight against him, against his word, but you’re too tired. Exhausted. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to fall. It can’t be like this every time. You question why you come crawling back every time, hind legs wounded, but you do it. The moment they give you a second of attention, you forget everything that has ever happened. Every unkind word. Every look. Every comment. It sticks into your hair like gum. You are so hard to love. A direct quote. Spoken to you in a moment of fury, of anger. Does that make it any easier to swallow? Does it make it any better knowing it was spoken out of frustration? No. The anger bites back, chewing you to bits and pieces. It is the hard truth, the thing that needed to be said. He knows the sensation, that sinking feeling in the pit of your chest, the expectations you’ve been carrying for this single moment deflating, dying in your arms. 

Why am I so hard to love? You whimpered through the bathroom door. What, what are you talking about? He jiggled the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. You sat with your back against the door, not letting him in. You wanted to, no you needed to be alone. To cry this out. I can’t help you if you won’t let me in. You didn’t want his help though, you didn’t feel worthy of it. You deserved to be alone, to feel alone. You were a burden, a hindrance, something people didn’t want alone. You kept running through the list in your head, all the reasons, the myriad of explanations. If they picked one, just one, maybe you could change it. Fix it. Fix you. Make yourself into something deserving of love. You pressed your face into your crossed arms, feeling small. Insignificant. He slid down to your level, speaking quietly, tenderly. You know whatever they said or did, it’s not on you. No one who loves someone would hurt them like this. Like his father. Like your family. You just shrugged, knowing he can’t see. You weren’t sure why you listened to them, why you let it get under your skin, it just did. Too sensitive, they called it, as if it were a bad thing. As if it were another reason to disregard your tears, your feelings. You never should have gone home, but you missed it, the idea of home. This grand notion that things would be different, they would be different. You always do. Hopeful, he calls it. Fucking stupid, you correct. It's naive of you to think they’d ever change, ever soften, ever share the same heart as you do. As soon as you go back you remember why you left, why you built this little life with him in your home, why you came home crying every time. 

Maybe he should have warned you. He didn’t want to dampen the mood. Roman could see how excited you were, proud to show yourself and all your achievements, no matter how small. Naming every relative, how much you missed them, how long it’s been since you’ve seen them. Maybe he should have gone with you, protected you, becoming your human shield. It wouldn’t have mattered. You wouldn’t have let him get hurt like that. They were smart in their cruelty, knowing just the right insecurities, the right buttons to push to shatter who you are inside. He watched you try on countless outfits, worried they wouldn’t like what you chose, worried you wouldn’t make the best impression. It didn’t matter what you chose in the end, they had enough choice words about your body regardless. Y/n, will you let me in? He asked softly, not moving. You let the question hang in the air, sniffling, letting yourself relax, take deep breaths. He checked your bedroom, the couch, kitchen, every nook and cranny where you might try to hide. This always happens. The disappearing act, the lack of self-worth, the hatred turn in on yourself. It’s them you should be mad at, but you can’t be. You love them too much. You need them too much to think harshly of them. The handle turns, the door creaking open. He moves with open arms which you fall into.  He doesn’t have any jokes to make it better, anything to lighten the mood, he knows better than that. Now, you need comfort. You need soothing and reassurance. Your head against his chest, the rest of you heavy with grief. You go back every time because you want to be loved the way you’re supposed to, the way all the songs and shows and movies promise you: unconditionally. And every time you’re disappointed. Because your life, this life, isn't a movie. It doesn’t have a happy ending. It just keeps going despite the heartache, despite the pain. It threatens to collapse in on you, cave in, when it gets bad. There’s no such thing as unlovable, he says to you, to himself, to the universe. Discarded like a kicked puppy. He can handle it from his father, Gerri, everyone, but you? You don’t deserve that. There’s no such thing as unlovable, he’s sure of it.

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

"Something on your mind, Lord Siew?"

Adrian Siew jumped, caught off guard by his cousin, Maura. He turned to acknowledge her presence, but quickly turned back when he saw how she was dressed.

"Your Majesty," he replied with a distinct edge to his voice. "I wasn't expecting you to be here. I was anticipating catching up with my cousin, Maura. Do be sure to remind her of that the next time you see her. I'm afraid I have nothing to say to Her Majesty the Queen."

"Mature as always, Adrian."

"The family rules for the cottage prohibit crowns on these grounds," Adrian stated coldly. "It seems that you're the one who's acting immature and inappropriate. Or are you here in your official capacity? Did I miss a session of your court?"

"I have a meeting later on and didn't want to sit to have the crown pinned in place again. Forgive your poor cousin for being practical with her schedule. I promise that I'm merely Maura at the moment. You try wearing this thing while trying to look perfect and regal at all times. It's exhausting."

Maura paused to rub her stomach soothingly, wishing that her future prince or princess would settle down and stop kicking so much. If Adrian wanted to be catty about family rules, he was welcome to swap places with her and be heavily pregnant while juggling the needs of the country and her already large family.

Adrian sighed heavily, rubbing his temple before he spoke.

"What are we doing here, Maura?" he asked quietly. "What has our family become? You and Ulyssa can hardly share a room together and Trent says that you've ignored his invitations to come for supper for months now. Am I supposed to ignore the rumours that you're seducing anyone who looks your way, including your staff? Grandmother would be horrified at what you've become. Your mother would too."

"You can preach at me when you end whatever you and Roman are doing with each other," the queen snapped. "Are you and Evren swingers now, or can he not see the way your eyes linger on Roman when you think no one's watching?"

"Roman and I are co-parenting our children, something you would know nothing about. Do you even know the name of the son you've brought with you? Do you have any idea who the parent of this pregnancy is? I highly doubt that it's Ulyssa's."

Maura’s eyes narrowed into angry slits at these words, but she held her tongue. Adrian was clearly baiting her for whatever reason and Maura refused to play his games.

"Of course I know who the father is," she said firmly. "He's in that picture over there with Duke Goldman. I'm sure you've met."

Adrian looked at the pictures on the wall, but refused to acknowledge the one with Duke Goldman and his ex-boyfriend that still hung on the wall beside the picture of Adrian and Maura when they were children. Ezra Hope was a walking scandal who seemed to curse the extended Siew family. First, he had dated Duke Goldman, then he had moved onto Liam, prince of Crystal Cove, only to end up in Maura’s arms. The man had even tried to make a move on Adrian, right in front of Evren. Ezra was a curse, but Maura seemed to think that she was the one in control simply because she was queen.

How could Adrian reach Maura to show her the danger she was in? Their relationship had been rocky as of late because of their differing opinions on Ezra. The fact that she was also withholding Roman's daughter from him didn't help either.

Looking at the photo in front of him, Adrian had another idea.

"You know, I think I still have a shirt just like that one at home," he said, gesturing to the photo of the two of them as children. "I could teleport home and grab it and we could recreate that picture of us. It might be fun. Do you still enjoy taking pictures like you used to? The walls of Siew Cottage haven't had a new photo added in ages."

To his surprise, Maura didn't immediately snap at him in anger. If anything, she looked amused.

"I probably have a yellow dress upstairs in my room that I could wear. Let's give it a try. For old times sake."

The two cousins regrouped twenty minutes later, dressed in whatever was closest to matching the picture. Maura set the timer on her phone and rushed beside her cousin, feeling more nostalgic than she expected. This was what she used to do, back when she had free time and a mother and grandmother who had once done her job. She didn't have the luxury of photography anymore. Even if she was pissed off at Adrian for his comments on her lifestyle, he had managed to make her smile for a moment, at least.

"It's flawless," Adrian decided. "Your best work."

Maura smiled despite herself. She had always liked Adrian for his positivity and upbeat attitude, no matter how bad the circumstances were. He was probably the only person Maura knew who could spend years locked away in some other dimension and still see the world as inherently good. And yet, he did have tricks of his own to play. Someone gullible like Roman might have missed it, but this new picture had subtly moved the picture of Duke Goldman and Ezra Hope off the wall. Adrian played the part of an idiot, but his mind was still sharp.

"I'm not taking this tiara off, no matter how much you whine," Maura stated, pulling her cousin into a hug. "It really would be difficult to place back on, but I can promise you that I'm definitely not the queen right now. I have a very busy schedule and I'm only here to relax. Plus Prince Adrion could use some one on one time with me as my heir. My own mother often brought me here to bond and discuss the many responsibilities I'd inherit and I'd like to do the same with my heir. Don't you have private moments with Luciana about her inheriting your own title?"

"Private moments? What are those?" Adrian laughed. "Five kids running around the house as well as Saturnia and Abe Jr? Plus Theo when he's in the middle of yet another scandal? I barely get enough private moments to use the washroom by myself, let alone sit down with Luciana. My parents spent countless hours drilling my duty into my head, only to send me off to military school where it was shouted at me all day. I couldn't do that to her. Besides, I was an only child. I have more than enough potential heirs for Luciana to step down if she wished."

"Ah, yes. That's something I wanted to discuss with you. Well, that I've meaning to getting around to discussing with you. Some members of court are suggesting that I send Adrion and at least two of my other children to the military school you attended."

"The heir? That would be breaking with tradition. Military school is for the spares and lowly dukes."

Maura sighed.

"Well, there is some concern," she replied. "We still haven't had justice for my mother's death, so an heir with a military background could be an asset."

"And because people assume that Pleasantview is behind the attack and every other bad thing that's happened to us since then."

"Precisely. While I know that Claudia is innocent, others don't share my convictions. This whole thing is going to end in bloodshed, I just know it. I never wanted to be a queen in wartime, but if this continues, who knows what will happen?"

"Send the kids to Pleasantview then," Adrian said with confidence. "Nothing would show your belief in Claudia's innocence than sending your heir to her schools. That is, if you even send them anywhere. You can always put them in the public schools here. Evren and I are sending Fiolett to public school this year, along with her brothers when they're old enough."

Maura stared at her cousin strangely.

"Your oldest girls are in boarding school, aren't they? Do you not have the money to send the others? I can help with the costs if you need."

Adrian smiled, but shook his head.

"No, we could afford it, especially if Theo graduates by the time the boys are older. I appreciate your offer, but Evren is opposed to the idea of sending the children to any type of boarding school. He had a similar experience to mine in a boarding school and he hates the idea of not having the kids at home every day. The twins were enrolled at Roman's request a long time ago and it would be difficult for them to adjust to a public school in another country, away from all their friends."

"Understandable." Maura paused, unsure if she truly wanted to ask her next question. Roman was a difficult subject to bring up. "Why did you and Roman decide to enroll them in his old school, if you don't mind me asking? He always seemed dead set against boarding schools. Obviously, Theo is a different matter entirely."

"Obviously," Adrian agreed. "Boarding school will keep him safe for whatever his future holds, there's no doubt of that. Roman had already enrolled the twins in a kindergarten class abroad when I returned to life and it didn't make sense to take them out of it. Luciana needs the skills to one day take my place and Rien...Rien, we hope will find a community that shares her gifts in the larger world. If she makes even a single friend, who isn't a spirit, it would all be worth it."

Outside, Etienne and Adrion played on the playground, shrieking loudly with delight. Twenty years ago, that used to be Adrian and Maura on that playground, running away from their parents, escaping boring lectures on duty.

"Did you ever think that we'd be here, watching our kids play and reminiscing?" Maura asked. "I always thought that I'd have a few more years before having kids or that I'd be one of those crown princesses who spent most of their lives waiting for the crown. When we eventually do find my mother's murderer, I'm going to ensure that their life becomes just as unrecognizable as my own."

"You have a good life," Adrian assured his cousin. "Millions of people would trade for your life in an instant. You have a wife who loves you despite being flawed herself and several beautiful children who love you too. You rule over a peaceful island and have been guaranteed safety from Claudia coming to claim it as her own. You are incredibly fortunate."

"I have my mother's life. Even before she became queen, she'd been living just like this, just preparing for the throne instead of ruling from it like me. She had to educate her spare heirs and keep up a good public persona and spend every moment of her life thinking of the crown. I wanted to travel more before I became queen. I wanted to take pictures of everything and read a book beside Ulyssa on foreign beaches where the press wouldn't care about us. I wanted just a few years to myself before I had to give everything to the crown."

"You look a lot like your father," Maura pointed out, staring at a photo of her mother sitting with his father. "You're like a clone of him. None of my children look like just like me or just like their mother. They're all blends of Ulyssa and I."

"I don't have a little clone of me either," Adrian reassured his cousin. "Trust me, I got sick of constantly hearing how I looked like my father. It doesn't give you the space to be yourself. You are only ever the spitting image of a man you barely see because of his duties. Everard looks very close to Evren, and Theo very close to Roman, but my father and I were the same right down to the freckles on our noses. Evren and Roman would never try to impose their own interests on their children like my father did."

"Good luck telling Theo to do anything," Maura laughed. "That boy is wild."

"You still keep in contact with Theo?" Adrian was surprised to hear his cousin mention his stepson after all that Theo's father had done to her.

"Of course! Well, in a way. Though most of my information comes from security reports, I watch over him for Ulyssa's sake. She really does miss him in her life, but he won't speak to her. If something goes wrong and he's in danger again, I know that she would want to know. Besides, my security team assumes that he's being groomed to work for Claudia. I can't ignore him even if I wanted to. Is he still with that Darktide boy?"

"They're still planning their wedding when they're nineteen as far as I've heard," Adrian laughed, purposely omitting the events of the past few months. "It's been a little bumpy, but they're still obsessed with each other. You know teenagers. If only we could be that young again."

"Speak for yourself, I had tons of relationships by the age of fourteen. I was wild back then."

"If I remember correctly, you were deeply in love and obsession with Ben Siew, were you not?" Adrian teased. "You were going to get married despite your mother's objections and live happily together until you became queen and took over the castle."

Maura blushed at the reminder of her past. She had been obsessed with one particular boy, despite also having casual flings. It was because of this obsession that she'd almost missed Ulyssa as a potential queen consort. She'd almost missed a relationship that had become so deeply a part of her. Ben could never be the consort Ulyssa was, despite her betrayal with Roman.

"Being an adult sucks," Maura sighed. "I can't believe I'm wishing to go back to school, but so much was easier back then. Ulyssa and I didn't have half the problems we do now and could do whatever we wanted."

"As much as your grandmother approved of," Adrian pointed out. "It wasn't really much better than things are now, and you had to listen to the queen. Now you're the queen and you can do whatever you want."

"True."

"Maybe there's something you could do to change your life. Like, go to marriage counseling? Not having revenge babies? That's a pretty good start, I think."

Maura sighed again, far more deeply this time. Adrian refused to let their conversation remain pleasant. Clearly, he had a lot of uncomfortable things to say to her.

"Adrian, look. I know you're just trying to help, but my life isn't any of your business," she said calmly. "It's over between me and Ezra anyway. He was getting too clingy and weird about our relationship. The duties and boundaries of a queen were beyond his understanding. I'm not going to divorce Ulyssa. That was never an option. Ulyssa is going to be the mother of this child. His role can easily be filled by someone else."

"Like Ulyssa?"

"For god's sake, Adrian! I'm not getting divorced, how much more do you want from me?"

Adrian looked at his cousin sadly.

"I just want you to be happy," he said quietly. "You don't look like you're very happy, and I want the best for you, Maura. Why can't you divorce? You have heirs now. Roman and I were going to divorce once the twins were born, there's no shame in admitting that a match wasn't as perfect as you thought. You and Ulyssa were young when you started dating. The same things I tell Theo also apply to you. Be happy, Maura. Life is short and darkness can appear out of nowhere and take your life from you. If I had remained dead all those years ago, what would the summary of my life have been? A marriage that was crashing down around me, the disapproval of my parents and a college degree that didn't give me any clarity about my future? I was a mess. It took both Evren and I crying on each other's shoulder just to feel alive again. It took a while to navigate my relationship with Roman and Abe. Change doesn't happen all at once, Maura. If you need to divorce Ulyssa, I'll support whatever you decide in court. I know you would have Duke Goldman's support as well, along with many others. You could die tomorrow and what would you be leaving behind? A string of lovers, an illegitimate child, and an unhappy wife."

Maura had no reply. She had no defense for her actions or why she was so miserable. Adrian was right about most of his little rant. She could make choices to change her life. She was the queen; supposedly, she could do whatever she wanted.

"I'm not getting a divorce," she declared. "My father died and my mother remarried, as you know, and it was painful for me. A child deserves to have just one set of parents. To not have to divide their loyalty between households. I won't do that to my children. They may never see their mother again if Ulyssa can't be approved by security to have visitation with them. What if she goes running back to Roman as soon as we're divorced? He has so many kids that would be devastated if he and Abe broke up."

"Ah, now you're getting somewhere. You can't divorce because your mother moved on and you felt excluded from her family and you can't let go of Ulyssa because you're afraid that she's going to abandon you if you give her a choice."

Maura’s face flushed a deep red at this, and she turned away from her cousin's compassionate expression. She didn't need his pity or his armchair psychological analysis. She was the queen, and she answered to no one. Besides, she didn't have time to waste talking about the feelings Adrian guessed she had. It had been a mistake to come here. Adrion could just as easily spend time with her at home, away from nosy cousins and their ideas about her marriage.

"I have to go," she announced, silencing Adrian's protests with a raised hand. "It was nice catching up with you, Adrian. I hope we run into each other soon."

In the blink of an eye, Maura disappeared into the yard to collect her son, leaving Adrian standing baffled.

[theprayerfulword]

June 20

Romans 12:12 Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer.

Psalm 68:4-5 Sing unto God, sing praises to His name: extol Him that rideth upon the heavens by His name Jah, and rejoice before Him. 5 A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in His holy habitation.

1 Peter 4:10 Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.

Matthew 6:20 But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Job 2:10 Will we receive good from God but not also receive bad?

Isaiah 8:17 I will wait for the Lord, … I will put my trust in Him.

May your fellowship with the wayward not extend to include their ways. 1 Kings 22

May you minister in love to the material needs of those God brings to you before you speak His truth in kindness to minister to their spiritual needs. 1 Kings 22

May you walk in the grace of God, restrained and motivated by the Word of God, so you will respond from the Spirit when attacked in the flesh, for the sinful nature is always hostile toward God. 1 Kings 22, Romans 8

May you know that, though you are basely used by the wayward, God's judgments against their sin are inescapable apart from repentance. 1 Kings 22

May you do good in the eyes of the Lord, not following the ways of those who do evil by causing others to sin, but serve and worship the Lord God Almighty, knowing that the enemy of your soul will be provoked to anger. 1 Kings 22

May your ministry be of Christ, Who was crucified by men, buried by friends, and resurrected by God, giving victory over death and the hope of eternal life. Acts 13

Just as David served his generation, may you serve yours in the strength and the power of Christ, Who has served all generations, shedding His love abroad through all who yield to and follow after His will. Acts 13

May you first know, and second share, the forgiveness of sin through faith in Christ's atonement without injury to God's honor, and the justification from guilt, which the law gave awareness of, but the gospel gives atonement for. Acts 13

My child, the enemy desires to separate you from Me as a farmer sifts the husks from the grain, but know, My precious one, that I am in charge of the flail and I control the winnowing basket. Be assured that the chaff will be burned in My fire, but not the least grain of My harvest shall fall to the ground to be lost. There is much separation going on in your life, My dear one. I have spoken of it, and it must come to pass. In the field of your heart, My enemy sowed tares, and you have struggled to know why the springs of your soul bring forth both fresh water and salt. The growing season is not the time of separation; the harvest is the time appointed. The husks and chaff are those who have no grounding, who have sought the entertainment and joys of the flesh and emotions; but as you have sought Me, you have formed full, solid grains that will not be blown about by every wind of doctrine which scatters. I have been drawing you by My Spirit to a closer walk, a deeper relationship, a more intimate knowledge of Me, not just knowing My acts, My near one, but understanding My ways. You have responded, My eager one, by growing and maturing, storing up the richness of My Word and gathering the strength and life of My Spirit, ripening into a bountiful harvest that I can rejoice over. There is, at the same time, a separation among the people in your life, My caring one, for though I have allowed the young plants to grow mixed in the field, those who have chosen repeated and persistently to reject My water of life and My sun of strength, are destined for separation, binding, and burning. The grief in your heart for those headed that way is My grief, My sorrowful one. Allow it to express itself in tears and sorrow, with intercession and prayers for mercy and grace, knowing it is My Spirit crying through you in effectual, fervent prayer, for in this manner will the last harvest be the greatest, and many will be saved, as by fire. All who will receive Me will be kept, for they are precious to Me, just as you are. No more than a shepherd would lose a sheep, a jeweler a single diamond, or a mother one of her children, however many she has, so I gather each of you under My wings in love. Do not let the striking of the flail be a terror to you, nor the ups and downs of life which blow the chaff from you. Cleansing is needed, My love, but as you cling to Me, you are in no danger.

May you praise the Lord, the Almighty God, with all your heart and sing praise to Him before those mighty in the world and possessing authority among men, bowing down in worship to the Father Who, through His love, has defeated all His foes and, through His faithfulness, has rescued you from the grave, for He has exalted above all things His Name and His Word, making you bold and stouthearted when you call upon Him. Psalm 138

May the words you speak unto the kings of the earth about the glory of God bring forth praise from them to the Lord, Who is great. Psalm 138

May you walk before the Lord, Who is on high, in humility, for He looks with favor upon the lowly, though the proud He knows from afar. Psalm 138

May the Lord preserve your life, though you walk in the midst of trouble, for He stretches out His hand against the anger of His foes and will save you by His right hand. Psalm 138

May the Lord fulfill His purpose for you, for the love of the Lord endures forever and He will not abandon the works of His hands. Psalm 138

Even as you have found Christ to be the Friend Who is always loyal, loving at all times and closer than a brother in times of adversity, may you express the same bonds of love, compassion, grace, and acceptance to those who need it, as He leads you and works through you. Proverbs 17:17

May you look to God for wisdom in your decisions and compassion in your actions, seeking the way which leads to life and not relying on your own understanding of good and evil. Proverbs 17:18

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

A Negativity Break

“Be happy [in your faith] and rejoice and be glad-hearted continually (always)” 1Thessalonians 5:16AMPC

Where was the happy rejoicing in our faith? Listening to the other people’s conversations at church smacked me in the face. Was I speaking like everyone else? — ‘Oh it was a hard week.’ — ‘Everything that could go wrong went wrong.’ — ‘Ran out of money and couldn’t do __.’ —‘In so much pain I can’t stand up for worship.’ —‘Everything is horrible at work, so much pressure.’ —‘Our government is against us.’

And then we all sang— ‘How Great Thou Art,’ ‘Nothing Is Impossible With God.’ “But the human tongue can be tamed by no man. It is a restless (undisciplined, irreconcilable) evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse men who were made in God’s likeness! Out of the same mouth come forth blessing and cursing. These things, my brethren, ought not to be so. Does a fountain send forth [simultaneously] from the same opening fresh water and bitter?” James 3:8-11AMPC. How often do we speak negatively about situations? People? Ideas? Government? Negativity is cursing because it opens the words for satan to fulfill.

How many people do we hurt with our negative speaking? Dissatisfaction— Criticism— Anxiety— Impatience— Irritability —etc. “Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into Him Who is the head, into Christ,” Ephesians 4:15ESV Aren’t we supposed to be blessings to others?

God’s been dealing with me on this. Our words can open the door to sickness and the demonic realm. “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen… Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” Ephesians 4:29, 31-32NIV. Dad would tell Mom, ‘just because it’s true doesn’t mean you need to say it. Praise comes better coming from your mouth.’

Lou and I are joining a public 21 day fast for our nation; our elections without corruption; a national turning to God; Israel awakening to God; God’s glory to come to our churches. Yahweh spoke into my heart— ‘add to your fasting a fast of all negative speaking.’ Yew!!! To complete this kind of fast I and anyone joining me will have to focus on our text verse— “Rejoice always,” ESV, “Be happy [in your faith] and rejoice…” AMPC.

Paul instructed Believers 1Thessalonians 5:18KJV “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” In focusing on being thankful, speech always changes. — Philippians 4:4ESV “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.” — Romans 5:3ESV “…we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance,” — Romans 15:13ESV “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” — Isaiah 65:18ESV “But be glad and rejoice forever in that which I create; for behold, I create Jerusalem to be a joy, and her people to be a gladness.” — Zephaniah 3:14NIV “Sing, Daughter Zion; shout aloud, Israel! Be glad and rejoice with all your heart, Daughter Jerusalem!” Zephaniah was prophesying about a very negative situation. Telling them to rejoice spurred on God’s happy plans for them— see V15-19.

I NEVER HAVE READ in the Bible — criticism is gladly received for promoting good? — negative words encourage everyone — where God jumps with glee at our complaints. NOT!!! —— I can list scriptures stating the opposite. Yahweh’s right. My mouth needs a negativity break. Does yours? Shouldn’t we be rejoicing and happy in our faith instead? It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Lord God forgive my past negative words. May they fall idle and dead performing nothing. Create in my mouth, our mouths words of goodness and rejoicing instead, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2024 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.

[pastorsperspective]

Forgiveness

Happy Friday! The time has come again to reflect on last Sunday’s sermon with Pastor Chad. If you were unable to be with us, you can listen to the message here: https://www.youtube.com/live/b9-mi9JIsD8?si=4djpPZh_rNIv7JOg The Title of the sermon is: “Room at the Table – Judas the Betrayer” and the accompanying scripture is from Luke: 22:1-6. Skip to minute mark 37:45 to go straight to the sermon.

So, this was a heavy one… You asked a variation of the question I was thinking in the message itself, and touched on an answer briefly, but maybe you can expand on that. We're called to forgive, as God forgives us, but does that mean that we must continue to put ourselves in the path of the person, or persons, who harmed us? 

Absolutely not, I was clear that we have to be very mindful of abuse and there are certainly times where we need to step away as the best choice for our own safety, health, and well-being. But that doesn't mean we hate them, and let that hate consume us. Jesus was fulfilling scripture and whether it had been Judas, the Pharisees themselves, Roman government, or you name it, this was all going to end the same way one way or the other. What Jesus demonstrates is the ability to love despite what was done to him and this is the call we have upon our lives. There is certainly a balancing act to this, but when we let love and grace drive instead of hate and anger, this is when we step into a deeper discipleship. 

I see a quote go around on Facebook quite a bit from a rapper I remember from the 90s, Tupac Shakur, that says, "Just because you lost me as a friend, doesn't mean you gained me as an enemy. I'm bigger than that. I still wanna see you eat, just not at my table." In a lot of ways that really resonates with me. It's something we have lost as a society. The ability to recognize that it's not an either-or situation. It's not love OR hate. I can love you and still not have you be an active participant in my life and have healthy boundaries with you, can't I?

I love this quote, and as seen above the answer is always yes. It’s no different with the churches who have disaffiliated. They left for theological and structural differences. We don't hate them; we don't wish they would close and not bring the gospel to those who attend there. We hope for the opposite, that they will do well and spread the love of Christ to all those that go there. Sure, it may slightly different than our way and beliefs, but that’s ok. John Wesley is credited having said, “We may not think alike, but can we not love alike?” To that I say YES!!!! 

Absolutely!! I read an article that spoke to this very thing. It asked the question, have you ever heard someone criticize the building of a homeless shelter in their neighborhood because they didn't want drug addicts and "those types" of people in their community? Have you heard the same kind of criticism for giving to the food pantry? The idea being, why should I give my money and my resources to people who continuously make choices that leave them without food and shelter? How would you answer them?

So, I have heard this kind of thinking from other Churches in our community, but honestly not ours. There are many people and churches in our community who feel a servant’s heart and give so freely, for them I am so thankful and love their spirit. If I had to answer those who don't share this same spirit I would simply say, “so you are in no way in need of God’s grace and don't require it daily, then?” See we like to simply think of justifying grace which is God’s grace that imparts and imputes righteousness into our lives making us right again with, or atone (at one) with God again. The truth is this is but one facet to God’s grace, sanctifying grace is the grace that moves us daily to be more like Christ after we say yes to Jesus in justifying grace. The point is this, we all need God’s grace every single day. Whether that be in a canned good or a measure of forgiveness or even a friendly smile, we are no different from anyone else in the reality that we all need love and grace (PERIOD)!

Well, I know I certainly do. Even on my worst day, thinking about the people who have hurt me the most in this life. I agree with Tupac… I still want to see them eat, just not at my table. I’m not going to share any old Tupac music with you. I’m not a rap fan, but I will share with you my favorite song on the topic of forgiveness. Aptly titled: Forgiveness by Matthew West

My favorite line:

It’s the opposite of how you feel

When the pain they caused is just too real

Takes everything you have to say the word

May all who have hurt us continue to eat and be blessed wherever they are and may all of us who were left behind to pick up the pieces be set free by forgiveness.

[faithisthekey-23]

Bible verses that I used in my poem ”Walk in righteousness with God”:

”Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1 ESV)

”And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him.” (Hebrews 11:6 ESV)

”⁸ For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God — ⁹ not by works, so that no one can boast. (Ephesians 2:8-9 NIV)

”Jesus answered him, ’If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.’ ” (John 14:23 BSB)

“You shall therefore love the LORD your God and keep his charge, his statutes, his rules, and his commandments always. (Deuteronomy 11:1 AMP)

”⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. (1 Corinthians 13:4-7 NIV)

”Father, forgive them for they not know what they do” (Luke 23:34)

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:32 NIV)

”For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11 ESV)

”So God created human beings in his own image. In the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:27 NLT)

Philippians 2:5-13

”⁵ Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, ⁶ who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped,⁷ but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. ⁸ And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. ⁹ Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, ¹⁰ so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, ¹¹ and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Ephesians 2:5-11 ESV)

”If My people who are called by My Name humble themselves, And pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways Then I will hear from Heaven and forgive their sin and heal their land” (2 Chronicles 7:14 NIV)

”When God saw what they did and how they turned from their evil ways, he relented and did not bring on them the destruction he had threatened.” (Jonah 3:10 NIV)

”Don’t you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey—whether you are slaves to sin, which leads to death, or to obedience, which leads to righteousness?” (Romans 6:16 NIV)

”Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” (Luke 6:37 BSB)

”Bear fruits in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham.” (Luke 3:8 ESV)

”Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in your midst?” (1 Corinthians 3:16 NIV)

”⁶ For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ. ⁷ But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” (2 Corinthians 4:6-7 NIV)

”He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high” (Hebrews 1:3)

“(...) I am the first and I am the last; besides me there is no god. (Isaiah 44:6 ESV)

“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.” (Revelations 1:8)

“God is our refuge and strength” (Psalm 46:1)

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” (John 10:11 NIV)

”For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16 NIV)

”¹ I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people— ² for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. ³ This is good, and pleases God our Savior, ⁴ who wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. ⁵ For there is one God and one mediator between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus, ⁶ who gave himself as a ransom for all people. (1 Timothy 2:1-6)

”Therefore I want the men everywhere to pray, lifting up holy hands without anger or disputing. (1 Timothy 2:8 NIV)

”⁹ I also want the women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, adorning themselves, not with elaborate hairstyles or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, ¹⁰ but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God (1 Timothy 2:9-10 NIV)

”In the same way, the women are to be worthy of respect, not malicious talkers but temperate and trustworthy in everything.” (1 Timothy 3:11 NIV)

”Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives’ tales; rather, train yourself to be godly” (1 Timothy 4:7-7)

”Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity” (1 Timothy 4:12)

”² Now the overseer is to be above reproach, faithful to his wife, temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, ³ not given to drunkenness, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. ⁴ He must manage his own family well and see that his children obey him, and he must do so in a manner worthy of full respect (1 Timothy 3:2-4)

”⁶ He must not be a recent convert, or he may become conceited and fall under the same judgment as the devil. ⁷ He must also have a good reputation with outsiders, so that he will not fall into disgrace and into the devil’s trap.” (1 Timothy 3:6-7)

”⁸ In the same way, deacons are to be worthy of respect, sincere, not indulging in much wine, and not pursuing dishonest gain. ⁹ They must keep hold of the deep truths of the faith with a clear conscience. ¹⁰ They must first be tested; and then if there is nothing against them, let them serve as deacons. (1 Timothy 3:8-10)

”¹³ Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching and to teaching. ¹⁴ Do not neglect your gift, which was given you through prophecy when the body of elders laid their hands on you. (1 Timothy 4:13-14)

”¹ Do not rebuke an older man harshly, but exhort him as if he were your father. Treat younger men as brothers, ² older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters, with absolute purity. ³ Give proper recognition to those widows who are really in need. (1 Timothy 5:1-3)

”Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” (1 Timothy 5:8)

”Do not be hasty in the laying on of hands, and do not share in the sins of others. Keep yourself pure.” (1 Timothy 5:22)

”¹¹ But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. ¹² Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses. (1 Timothy 6:11-12)

”¹⁷ Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. ¹⁸ Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. (1 Timothy 6:17-18)

[dailydevotion-ltckyrke]

Romans 12:9 Let love be without hypocrisy. Detest evil; cling to what is good. 10 Love one another deeply as brothers and sisters. Take the lead in honoring one another. Godly love has little to do with what we associate with Valentine's day! The lust of the flesh is on display in the commercialism of "Love"... Paul's description of love in 1 Corinthians 13 doesn't satisfy the lust of the flesh, or the lust of the eyes, or the pride of life! 4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  8 Love never fails.  God's love never fails! Godly love is a lasting love that will persevere through all trials and troubles! It seeks peace and not conflict, it is understanding and not selfish! We will always fail each other when we listen to our fleshly desires, but a true godly love will always be faithful and true! Colossians 3:12 Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering;  13 bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do.  14 But above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfection. True love isn't hateful, spiteful, vindictive...it is merciful, humble, and forgiving. It is the highest of virtues! It makes faith blossom and gives eternal hope! Godly love will bind us with an unbreakable bond, and leads to the perfecting of our humanity in Christ! Heavenly father, thank you for your example and gift of love to us! Your love is a love that has no equal! Help me Lord to follow your example and be faithful and true in my love for others. Let your love be made complete in my heart, in my life, and in my family! Amen https://www.instagram.com/p/CopMwY2gBcw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[rcksmith]

Distracted — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “shit, i forgot. I'm the one who asked for smut prompts #30, #31, #61 and #96. Could you write them for Five Hargreeves? Thank you! So sorry to spam you with the asks X-X”

Smut prompts :

30. “I’d hold on to something if I were you.”

31. “Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.”

61. “what would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?”

96. “I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem! Reader.

Warnings: smut heavy, NSFW, dirty talk, swearing, degradation. (I was in a bad mood hkjskjs)

Word count: 4k

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Let me know if you want to be added for a taglist for a specific fandom (Criminal Minds, The Umbrella Academy, Riverdale, Roman Godfrey, or all)

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. It was explicit, hanging from his chest on a giant sign that said: “ABANDONATE THE HOPES IF YOU ENTER HERE.” And he knew that.

Inside his body he housed a sarcastic, explosive and sulky soul, with no patience for half the world. Everything about him exuded a dangerous, authoritarian, arrogant energy, mixed with distilled look that have always been able to subdue anyone.

Five is the type of man who, while everyone dreams of easy solutions, he knows that if he wants something to be done he will have to do it himself. He likes a hunting, taking the lead in any situation, having no problem breaking rules to make things happen.

And he was perfectly comfortable with that. Taking control of his world. Until, of course, you show up. Taking the key to his Olympus as if it had always belonged to you.

You were the one thing that Five Hargreeves couldn't subdue. He was unable to impose to you his reputation as a man who should not be challenged. Because that was exactly how the world saw Five. Like a man you don't challenge. Even his siblings realized, after a certain point, that it was not advisable to play with him.

But, apparently against all common sense, none of this had an effect on you.

You were not afraid, or pondering your words. You rolled your eyes at the things he said, mocked his arrogance and always looked at him with a combination of a smile and a look that, holy mother of God, Five hated. It was the typical expression that said: “ I know a lot more than you do, but I will be quiet because you are not worth my time.”

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. But you raised it to stratospheric proportions.

It was completely exasperating, outstanding, you were a brat who didn't hear the voice of an adult, so used to being daddy's little girl. Because that was how he saw you. You were only 24 age while he was 30. It was expected that you heard him! But no. You did not give a damn.

“If you listened to me and chose the Colombian, that wouldn't be so bad!” Five scolded again.

This was the twentieth time he had said that to you.

There was a routine with the Hargreeves siblings: you brought coffee on Mondays, since you passed a great coffee shop on the way. Diego was responsible for bringing Japanese food on Wednesdays, Luther for Indian food on Fridays and Klaus for pizzas on Saturdays. It was a banal thing, but it brought a comforting feeling of, no matter how not anyone would admit, tradition.

But it was obvious that you had to piss Five off on that too.

“And I already said that they don't do the Colombian before ten in the morning.” You passed the page of a magazine you were reading, ignoring his tantrum.

“And you can't wait ?!”

This time you looked up at Five, giving a mocking expression.

“Oh, forgive me, your majesty. I will delay my journey just because your eexcellency wants Colombian coffee.” You laughed, turning your attention to the magazine.

Five felt the tips of his ears heat up, the fingers of his hands go white from the force that he clenched his fists. You were so fucking annoying!

"You are unbearable." He said, because he saw no other way to express the hateful little monster you were.

You looked up at him again. “Serious? Me? You are the one who is complaining about not getting your blend coffee.” You turned your attention to the magazine “Like a child who didn't get chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs.”

What?! Fucking what?!

Five opened his mouth in bewilderment, now anger rising up his neck. How dare you, fuck?! You were younger than him!

"What did you say?!" He repeated, his voice low but deep, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

You didn't take your attention away from the magazine by replying: “Like a child who didn't get chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs.”

Oh, no. Oh fucking no.

Five slammed the coffee travel cup on the kitchen counter, walked over to you and closed your magazine brutally. You looked at him indignantly.

"What a fuck ..."

But Five didn't give you time to finish. He stuck both hands in your arms, forcing you to get up from the chair so quickly that the object fell to the floor. He pushed you back, lifting you up and making you sit at the wooden table, his eyes still on fire with your words.

"Child, isn't it ?!” He snarled, spreading your knees with his hands, settling his body still standing between your legs.

You were wide-eyed. Looking at him in amazement. Your heart was pounding in your chest so hard that you thought Five would be able to hear it, while your breath had been lost somewhere between the path from your lung to your nose.

Holy shit.

It was no secret that Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. This was not an opinion, it was a fact. With midnight hair, emerald green eyes and alabaster skin, it was not surprising that he was able to steal his breath wherever he went. And you were not immune to his charm. To be honest, you never thought it would be.

But the difference between you and the girls who fell at his feet was that ... well, you practically lived with the guy every day. You had been friends with Klaus for two years, and as a result you ended up becoming friends with the brothers and captivating them. It was almost atypical that you weren't with them. So, as a result, you ended up having time with Five too.

And, truth be told, it destroyed your will to want to impress him. As was common whenever see someone beautiful. Five Hargreeves was, in every way, arrogant. Irritating. Unbearable. Maybe it was your lust mixed with irritability, but you decreed that you didn't like him. That you would never want to fall into his bed.

Well…until now.

Until he accommodates his fucking tall, lean, firm body in the middle of your legs. Until his hands are glued to your arms in a touch of fire. Until your heart was racing like never before.

"You called me a child, didn't you?"

You wouldn't be able to answer anything in that second, even if your life depended on it. So you just nodded, a slow, cautious nod, like prey looking at hunter.

"I will show you my age!"

Five kissed you. In a way that no one had kissed you before. It was something hungry, angry, full of lust and with a desire that made you sigh softly. His hands were still on your legs, coming down to the back of your knees and pulling you firmly forward, sticking your whole body against his in a possessive way. His tongue invaded your mouth without waiting for an invitation, renouncing everything you had to offer as his.

That was a really kiss.

You put your hands on the back of his neck, running your fingers over the silky, black strands, letting your body be pressed against his as if you had been waiting for it a lifetime. Five pulled your legs closer, guiding you to close them around his hips and, once you did, his hands, determined and hungry, roam the sides of your body possessively.

"Five ..." a groan cut off your speech when his hands clung to your waist, pressing the hard and firm member to your core covered in the thin legging pants you wore.

"You already moaning and I haven't even touched you yet." His voice was overwhelmingly arrogant, full of amusement and convincing.

You were going to answer, because you weren't the kind of girl who kept quiet with a tease, but Five's hands made your waist roll around handily against his member, and a louder groan interrupted any line of reasoning you had.

“Oh, how adorable.” He scoffed, lowering his mouth to your neck and closing a hickey where pulse was “I wonder how the moaning will be when I do ...”

His right hand moved up to the inside of your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles until he got to where you needed it most. “This.” Then he forced the movements where your clitoris was covered.

Your groan was louder than you would like to admit. The air became caustic, rarefied, the atmosphere became something breathtaking, claustrophobic, poignant. And, before you know it, it was already a wet clay in his hands.

Five Hargreeves had won. He had you exactly where him wanted.

Your moans grew louder when he tuned his thumb movements together with his pelvis movements against you. Your hands tightened on the back of his neck, your teeth closed on your lower lip in order to contain the volume, and your breathing was shaky. Your hips pushed against him, the thin leggings being smeared by the arousal that oozed from you, and as soon as his hand was only an inch away, you followed it with your hips.

“Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.” Five played with the voice at the bottom of your ear.

You pulled the air against your teeth, whimpering, wanting anything he could give you.

“I bet ...” his lips slid under your skin without kissing, just making you wish, up to your lips and hovering there, a sigh away “If I asked you to take your clothes off and let me fuck you in this table like a good whore, you would gladly do. It is not?”

His free hand went to your face, taking a stir of your hair out of your eyes and placing it behind your ear. You were unable to contain the moan, closing your eyes tightly for a second, trying to contain how much your body screamed.

"Y-yes." You whined.

“Good." Five sprinkled a kiss on your lips before walking away.

You opened your eyes, your chest rising and falling with your heaving breath, your legs shaking. Your body screamed in protest at the separation, and you sent him a confused and inquiring look.

“You will learn who is in charge here." Five gave you a sly smile. "I'm only going to fuck you when you understand this."

Then he turned his back on you, took the coffee and disappeared in the blue flash.

This son of fucking bitch!

- - -

You were angry and frustrated. To say the least. Your body was on fire and mind replayed that day over and over in your head. It had been four days since Five's little exploits in the kitchen, and, to be honest, not only had he started the teasing.

Five gave you malicious and discreet smiles, gestured a lot more with his hands when he spoke just to remind you of what they could do. He hovered his body close to your whenever possible, brushing his shoulder against your, his hand gently on your back when he needed to pass beside you. His fingers even slid under your thigh under the table when you were having dinner. It was always like that.

And you were already crazy.

In the beginning, you sent him and their little game go to hell. He was not going to get what he wanted. But as the days went by, and Five started to touch you more often, the fire inside you burst, and it felt a lot less... torture if you just... gave in. The thought of sleeping with someone else just to appease that didn't bring you the same euphoria, you didn't just want sex, you wanted Five.

You knew he was playing with you. Just wanted you to give a sign that you were surrendering, so that he could give you what you wanted.

And after seven days, you gave in.

It was Monday, your mood was already an angry monster, but this time, you arrived a little later.

“Y/n, you are lateeeeee.” Klaus sang from the kitchen, biting off a large chunk of whatever it was before he sat down.

Vayna, Luther and Five were also at the table. Vayna and Luther talking about nothing important and Five reading a book under metaphysics.

"Traffic."

You lied, placing the tray of coffees in the middle of the table. Five and Luther were the first to get, Vayna still getting used to coffee addiction.

“Allison and I are going to watch something today. Why don't you come with us? ” You sat next to Klaus, throwing one leg over his.

"Is it going to be in the cinemove?”

He denied “In the living room, you can sleep here after."

You shrugged. “Okay.”

"Did you go to a different coffee shop?" Luther raised his eyebrows, having just swallowed his coffee.

“No, why?”

“It tastes different.” He drank some more.

“It is Colombian.” You put the cards on the table, in a game that only you and Five knew.

You didn't look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you and a sly, malicious smile brushing the right side of his mouth. That was the only interaction that you felt Five driving you that day. The hours had passed and it was already one in the morning when the movie in the mansion's ended. It was not atypical you slept in the mansion, the guest room was almost called “your room” at that time. But there was… there was something different this time.

As you unbuttoned your pants, with the night breeze coming in through the window, you thought that maybe it was because you never slept there having feelings for one of the siblings. So impure feelings. There was something about sleeping under the same roof as Five that made you ... nervous. But as soon as you removed the piece and placed it on the bed, the blue flash flashed behind you.

Your whole body went tense, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your heart was racing as if, suddenly, you had just returned from a marathon. You swallowed, the heat of his body hitting your back, while his hand went up your arm gently.

"You are such a good girl." Five's voice made your legs tremble, the butterflies in your stomach roll.

In this moment, feeling things that you never thought you would be able to feel, you wished always were a good girl for him.

"Did you do that for me?" His mouth joined the pice of your shoulder and neck.

You knew he knew he did, but the bastard wanted to hear it from you. Five wanted you to confirm that he had won.

“Yes” You whispered, the moonlight allowing you to see when his hand went down to your belly, playing with the cos of your dark blue panties.

"I knew you would be a good girl for me."

Then, taking you by surprise, Five pushed your chest onto the bed, bending you over, pulling your hips towards his with the other hand. You sighed when you felt his already hard member hit your pussy just covered by thin panties, now wet with your mess. Your hands closed on the sheet, your heart almost screaming in relief at the contact of his body behind you.

God, you wanted him so fucking much...

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Hargreeves reflected on a rhetorical question, his hands sliding over your surrendered body, squeezing your flesh with a force that would leave marks.

You whimpered, rolling your hips over his member. "Please"

“What would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?” Five slapped your left cheek.

You moaned softly, tightening the sheet, your body refusing to remain an inch away from him. Your hips needed more from Five's, your whimpers increasing as he took off your panties and ran his fingers through your wet folds.

"Five!" You moaned louder, biting your lip as he played with your entrance.

"Should I just fuck you with my fingers?" He caused your entry with two digits "Or with my dick?"

You were an incoherent mess, days of denial and desire that burned arthrosis in your body.

"Answer me!" Five slapped you again, this time louder, more grotesque, making you cry out.

"Y-your dick!" You tried to say, “P-please. Fuck me with your dick, please. ”

You were desperate, that was the truth. Desperate for contact, desperate for touch. Desperate for anything that Five Hargreeves could want from you. Anything he wanted to give you.

"Hard?" His voice was now dark, slightly wicked.

“Y-yes! Please!”

Then Five stuck his hand to the back of your neck, curling his fingers in your hair and pulling your face up, making you face the ceiling as he leaned over and snarled at your neck:

"How hard?"

"Give me all!" You begged “Please, Sir. Give me all."

That title seemed to drive him out of his mind. Because the only thing you had in response was the sound of his belt falling to the floor and the rustle of his pants and boxers down, his right hand never leaving your hair. You groaned in anticipation, tears pricking your eyes from the desire that had accumulated so long when you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance.

Five lowered his mouth to your ear, holding his hand more in your hair as he said: "I’ d hold on to something if I were you. "

Then he entered you. Hard, rough, wild. Opening all your walls and spreading your abundant liquid all over his dick. You opened your mouth in a silent scream, your nails etched hard on the sheet, tears streaming from your eyes without warning. Five gave you just a few seconds to settle for his size, starting to beat inside you at a relentless pace.

This time you screamed. Your heart pounding in chest, your pussy pulsing around Five with so much desperation that you heard him moan and curse behind you. The pace was rough, heavy, wild and full of lust. He fucked you like a rabid animal, devouring everything you had to offer, filling every last inch of you. The sound was of pornographic moans and bodies clashing with arrogance, filling the entire mansion with sounds that would not be forgotten.

"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, pushing your ass to Five at the same rate, making he hit the deepest spot inside you.

“Fucking such good slut!” He dumped one more slap on your ass, freeing his hand from your hair and joining both of them at your waist, pulling you towards him in an heavy rhythm.

Each thrust was an electric current poured into your body, excitement running down your thighs and melting both of you. Five groaned louder, leaning over and biting your shoulder, clenching his fingers aggressively against the innocent skin on your waist.

“I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.” Five blew in your ear, receiving a loud groan in return, as yours tears flowed.

Your pussy tightened around his dick, pulsing in such a tight way for he.

"Oh, would you like that?" He teased you, feeling your walls tighten again. “I bet you would love to everbody see the slut you are to me. ”

"Sir!" You screamed, throwing your head forward, pressing your forehead to the sheet as you sobbed.

"Answer!" One more slap.

"Y-yes! I-I like could show that I'm your slut! ” You sobbed.

Five came out of you, making you whimper loudly in frustration. He turned you over on the bed, placing you in the center as he climbed on top of you, settling in between your legs and entering without warning again. You screamed, sinking your face into his neck as your legs closed around his waist, pulling his deep into you.

"Such a good bitch."

Five felt your limit riding fast, leaving you more breathless, tearful and desperate. You no longer measured the volume of your moans, your hands clenching your nails on his back, your waist rolling around to make him inside deeper.

"S-sir!" Then, without being able to control yourself anymore, you exploded. Came in long streams of broken moans and shaky breathing.

Your head fell on the pillow, your chest arching while you were on top of the climax. Five groaned at the scene, his limit being your expression of pure ecstasy. He sank in you as anatomically as possible, filling you with the hot liquid that overflowed from inside you.

You were both panting, sweaty and tired. Five let himself relax on top of you, partially loosening his weight, still stirring a few strokes to ensure that you had welcomed all his cum.

"Good girl." He praised you, giving you a small kiss on the neck, stepping out of you and rolling to your side on the bed.

"That was ... wow." You laughed softly, trying to catch your breath.

Hargreeves laughed too, taking the time to get out of bed, looking for the boxers and pants. You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly not knowing what to do or what to say. Your heart sank at the thought of him leaving, and your mouth was faster than your common sense in saying:

"Wait!"

Five turned to you, his brows furrowed in question as he buttoned his black pants.

"Can you ... could you ... stay?" You took a chance, your cheeks quivering under Five's intense gaze that never left you.

But, instead of the denial you were expecting, his eyebrows furrowed even more in doubt.

“But I am not leaving.” He said it as if it was obvious.

Did you blink a few times “No?”

“I was just going to get a towel to clean you up. There are certain things that I don’t like do naked.”

You opened your mouth to answer, a little shocked, but Five disappeared in the blue flash only to appear a second later, with a towel in hand. You sank into your own shame, muttering softly to yourself in incoherent sounds, you let Five clean you up.

“Did you think I was leaving?” He scoffed when he finished, looking at you with that smug look.

You rolled your eyes, turning to the side on the bed, your back to him.

"No." You mumbled.

Five laughed, settling better on the bed. "Come here." He said, patting his chest.

And, well, as much as you would like to consider yourself a rebellious girl, you did. Turning to him again, you snuggled into his body, laying your head on his chest while Five pulled the blanket up to cover the two of you.

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. But at that moment, with you, you did not fail to notice the lazy and caring circles he made on your shoulder with his thumb.

Tagged: @bubblegumflamingos

[moxleys-darlin]

Mirror Images

Pairings: Seth Rollins/Wheeler Yuta, Seth Rollins/William Regal, Seth Rollins/Jon Moxley, Seth Rollins/Jon Moxley/Wheeler Yuta, implied Shield/BCC/Renee

Summary: Seth remembers the Betrayal storyline, the way his in-ring persona betrayed his brothers, he can see the hurt and anger in Yuta’s eyes, a mirror image of what Seth saw in his own eyes all those years ago. He hopes he hasn’t lost his younger lover before he’s gotten the chance to truly love him.

Continuation of Enough is Enough

Disclaimer: I don't claim anything but the idea; characters (unfortunately) and gifs aren't mine.

(Gifs not mine)

Seth hears Roman sigh on the phone as Seth describes why he has to make the trip home. He knows Roman doesn't understand why he's so concerned, but Seth is truly scared.

"Babe, I just think you're overthinking this. Yuta is fine, we talked when. I was there a few weeks ago, remember?"

"Yeah, but I also know that he is having. a hard time forgiving and trusting Bryan again, especially since the BCC is still fighting the JAS. I just-" Seth stops and sadly sighs, tugging on his hair. "I remember how this goes, this anger."

"Babe-"

"That storyline wasn't entirely fictional, and you know it, Ro! That story almost broke us before it even played out. I can't lose him; it feels like we just got him. Please let me do this, if I'm wrong and being dumb you can laugh at me later, all of you can, but if I'm right, I gotta try and fix this Ro."

"No one is going to laugh at you Seth, you're doing this for all of us. If anybody knows what happens traveling down this road, it's us. If you're wrong, great, but if you're right? If you're right and he leaves, I don't know what would happen to all of us. Just text me when you get there and keep me updated. I know Yuta misses you, so he'll be happy to see you early."

"I love you, Big Dog, I'll let you know how this all goes."

"Love you too baby. Be safe."

Seth hangs up the phone with a sigh and grabs his bag, heading out of the hotel and into his car. Shooting a text to Regal, Mox, and Renee, he puts the address into the GPS and heads home.

The drive goes faster than he thought, partly because he knows he's overthinking and partly because, being so late, there's no traffic. When he pulls up to the huge house (he'd call it a mansion, but Regal always rolls his eyes), he sends a text to Roman, letting him know he's safe, and to Regal, who he knows he's probably still awake. Getting out of the car, he stretches his legs and back out, groaning at the twinge in his knee. He had refused to stop on the way, wanting to get here as quickly as possible.

Unlocking and relocking the door, he quietly goes up the stairs, first stopping by Regal's room. Entering the room quietly, he sees Regal still awake and reading a book. He stops by his older lover's side of the bed to give him a kiss, trying not to wake up Bryan.

"Welcome home Seth. I hope your drive was pleasant enough?"

"Definitely don't recommend doing the drive all in one sitting, but I'm happy to be home." Seth knows he's anxiously rubbing his wrist.

"Oh petal, you really are worried about this situation, aren't you?" Regal grabs his hand, pulling it from his wrist. "Roman called, darling. Explained how you predict this going in your eyes. I spoke to Moxley so I could understand your stance and worries, and I can see why you're so upset."

"I just- I almost lost Mox in 2014 because of a storyline, I can't lose Yuta because of this feud between the BCC and JAS." Seth lets Regal pull him down gently so he's sitting on the side of the bed, and groans lightly when Regal scratches down his back, letting his head drop forward.

"Seth, your worries are justified, my dear boy. You should go and see Yuta, even if it's just to sleep." Seth leans over and kisses him again and stands up. "Go on dear, get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight William."

He closes the door quietly behind him and immediately runs into Mox, who wraps his arms around Seth's waist and kisses the breath out of him. When Mox pulls back, Seth puts his face in his lover's neck and breathes him in, calming himself down.

"I love you, my beautiful Hound, always remember that." Mox runs one hand through Seth's hair and clenches the other arm harder around him, hugging Seth tightly. "I know what you're thinking about, I fucked up in 2014, and I know that I can never take that shit back. I let my goddamn anger get the better of me, but Yuta's not me, baby," Mox can hear Seth's small sniffles and feels him shift his head into Mox's shoulder.

"When we were on FaceTime the other day, he was talking about how he's trying to forgive Bryan, but the feud is making him paranoid and making it hard to put this all behind him. He's so afraid that Bryan will turn back around and treat him shitty all over again, and it makes him angry." Seth's voice is watery and muffled, getting quieter toward the end of his statement. Mox sighs and rubs his tired Hound's back, trying to comfort him, wishing Renee was out here to help.

"Go lay with the Pup, baby, get some rest, and tomorrow we'll all have. a talk, okay? We'll put it all on the table." He steps back slightly so Seth will bring his head up, and Mox grabs his face, kissing him softly. "We'll get it all fixed up, okay?" Seth nods tiredly, and Mox chuckles. "Good, now go lay down, I gotta go chop some damn wood or something so I can feel like a badass again and not some softie. Got me feeling things." Mox shudders and starts to walk toward the stairs.

"Hey Moxie?" His lover turns around. "I like it when you're soft, you're still my badass no matter what." Mox rolls his eyes and starts walking again. "Love you, Mox" He starts walking toward Yuta's room, smiling at the quiet love you too from behind him.

Seth makes it to Yuta's room and quietly enters, hoping that, if the boy is asleep, he won't wake him. He places his bag in the chair that's in the corner of the room and decides to just take his shirt off and sleep in the pants he drove in. Climbing into bed, he's startled when Yuta turns over, puts an arm on his chest, and props himself up, smiling in excitement.

"You're here!" Yuta kisses over his heartbeat and Seth falls in love a little more. "Are you okay? I thought you were coming this weekend."

"I was, but I decided to come early, I wanted to come home and see my family." Yuta blushes slightly and sits up with his back against the headboard, grabbing Seth's hand when he copies Yuta's position. "I really wanted to see you and check in with you, especially after our video call." Seth adds quietly, looking down at his lap.

"Hey," Yuta uses his other hand to bring Seth's face up to look at him. "what's wrong? I know I've been stressed out about this Bryan/JAS stuff, but Bryan really is trying to make it up to me and he's checking in before and after we do segments with JAS. I think was just being paranoid, but Renee and Regal have been helping me and Bryan talk through things." Seth sighs in relief.

"So you're okay? We- you and Bryan are okay?" Seth catches the slip and hopes Yuta didn't, but his baby is more perceptive than he thinks.

"Yeah Seth, we're okay, all of us are okay." Yuta squeezes his hand and uses the other hand on Seth's face to stroke his cheek. "Ya know, Roman called me on your way here and told me to talk to Mox, don't be mad at him, he was really worried about you. Mox told me about what happened in 2014 during the betrayal storyline, about how y'all almost broke up and he thought you wanted the storyline to happen." Yuta hears the small whimper that escapes Seth without his permission.

"Yeah, it was a bad few weeks after that, Mox was refusing to talk to me, and I told Roman not to get in the middle of it. Triple H finally was able to get through to him and explain that it was his idea. Mox and I were pretty tense still even after Mox apologized because I was mad that it had even come to that. I was angry that someone else had to step in to make him see what he was doing was wrong."

"Kind of like how Roman had to get Bryan to see what he was doing to me, right? Mirror images almost, and that's what scares you, huh?"

Seth sighs and nods slowly, and Yuta gives in to the urge to try and kiss the sad look off his face. When Yuta pulls away, he lays back and pulls Seth down to lie on his chest, playing with Seth's long hair.

"I was scared that I would lose you just as I was beginning to truly love you, so I needed to see you, in case this was the last time I would." Seth kisses Yuta's chest, running his fingers over Yuta's stomach, enjoying the way it clenches when he hits certain spots.

"I was mad at Bryan, I was mad that Roman had to intervene to make him see that what he was doing was wrong, but I know Bryan isn't perfect, none of us are." Yuta tugs on the end of Seth's hair and makes him look Yuta in the face. "I'm not going anywhere Seth, I love y'all, I love you, and that won't change. Will we get into fights? Sure, but we'll talk it out and makeup. Bryan is still making things up to me and I'm still working on trusting him, but we'll get there eventually, and we're both patient enough to put the work in. We're okay though, all of us, and especially you and me. You drove all night to come see me, babe and make sure I was okay. My own Prince Charming, I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"Yeah, Prince Charming, sure. I love you too, Yoots. I'm sorry I doubted that." Yuta kisses Seth again and pulls the covers over the both of them, gently pushing Seth's head to his chest.

"Not doubt, Charming, concern. Now let's get some sleep, I have a feeling Mox is gonna come jump on the bed to wake us up in the morning and Roman will want a phone call."

Yuta runs his fingertips up and down Seth's back, enjoying the shudders going through his lover. He can feel Seth calm down and fall asleep, tightening the arm across Yuta's waist and nuzzling his head further into his chest. Yuta looks up when he hears the door open, seeing Mox looking in on them.

"How is he?" Mox whispers when he sees Seth asleep.

"I think he's okay now, but he'll probably be better when he can see Bryan and I interact together tomorrow." He can see a look in Mox's eyes when he looks at Seth, a mixture of guilt and love. "Come sleep with us, you know he gets cold if he's not sandwiched in."

"Already learned that, huh?" Mox doesn't argue, just climbs in bed on the other side of Seth, propping himself up to stare at Yuta and Seth together.

Yuta watches as Mox moves the hair away from Seth's cheek, kissing it gently, and moving to his ear to whisper something that sounded like softie. He then leans over carefully and kisses Yuta goodnight, then lays down and throws his arm over both Yuta and Seth, falling asleep quickly. He stays awake a little longer to think about the conversations he had with both Mox and Seth. Yuta knows that he truly loves all of his lovers and there was no way he'd give any of this up. He'll make sure he squashes Seth's fear tomorrow, but tonight he's going to enjoy sleeping next to very loving Hounds of Justice.

I 100% blame @sarahcakes613 and her "Yuta reminds Moxley of someone else"

This was also supposed to focus solely on Yuta and Seth, but apparently, Mox and his Lordship wanted some Seth loving too, so *waves hand* here we are.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! Much love! Also! You don't have to read Enough is Enough to understand any of this story! ❤️

[eliemo]

Holiday Wishes

Summary: Virgil doesn’t think the holiday plans apply to him. His family shows him how wrong he is.

Notes: I had this dream last night so I just wrote it in class this morning

“Should we do anything different this year?” Patton asked, glancing over at Virgil seated beside him.

The anxious side had been resolutely silent ever since Logan had begun planning their holiday activities, the days they would have off to celebrate and relax and enjoy each other’s company while Thomas was on break.

It still had only been a few months since Virgil was accepted, welcomed as a part of their family, but sometimes Patton forgot that he hadn’t been with them their whole lives. His presence just felt...right. They were all better with him around.

And this was Virgil’s first Christmas with them. They wanted it to be special for him, and he knew Roman had been brainstorming ideas for days now.

“We could bake cookies!” The prince declared, draped across the kitchen counter, a sparkly red holiday cookie already in hand. “It could be a friendly competition! I mean, we all know who’d win of course, but--”

“Roman you’ve consumed nothing but Patton’s cookies all afternoon,” Logan said. “Do we really need any more sweets?”

“Of course we do!” He turned suddenly to Patton and Virgil, both watching the exchange at the breakfast bar. “Don’t you agree, Virgil?”

Virgil jumped slightly, like he hadn't expected to be addressed, hunching his shoulders a bit as he responded. “Uh, sure. I guess.”

“Oh come on,” Roman groaned. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

“You can make cookies if you really want,” Virgil muttered, now slouched on his stool. “I don’t care.”

Patton frowned, sharing an incredulous glance with Logan. Virgil had been fine five minutes ago when they’d just been talking about Thomas’s travel plans. Now that they were talking about something significantly less stressful, he was tense and on edge, answers curt and biting.

“Well jeez, I didn’t realize you were such a Grinch,” Roman huffed, hopping off the counter. “How about...gingerbread houses?”

“That could be fun!” Patton said, watching as Logan scribbled the idea down in his notepad. “What do you think, Virge?”

“I don’t know,” Virgil snapped, and there was...something that wasn’t quite anger but powerful enough to catch Patton off guard. “Why are you asking me?”

Roman scoffed, crossing his arms. “Well excuse us, Doom and Gloom. Just because you’re too grumpy for Christmas doesn’t mean you can’t let the rest of us enjoy it!”

Virgil sunk further into his hoodie, eyes cast downward, those same defences they’d all been working to help him take down steadily building themselves back up.

“Whatever.”

“Kiddos,” Patton chided, still silently searching for what might have set Virgil off. “Be nice.”

“Fine,” Roman relented, still frowning at the anxious side. “Since you apparently hate all my suggestions, what do you want to do?”

Virgil blinked, glancing up at Roman with something akin to suspicion. “I- what? Me?”

“We are open to any suggestions, Virgil,” Logan said, absently tapping his pencil against the pages of his notebook. “If there’s something specific you would like us all to do over the break, you only need to say.”

But Virgil...Virgil didn’t seem to be listening. Patton watched as he blinked, like he was trying to figure out what was being said, and the moral side suddenly felt like he was missing something glaringly obvious.

“Us?” Virgil repeated, suddenly much smaller. “You..You mean, like--?”

“Like us,” Roman said. “The four of us! The only people in the room! We’re trying to plan our first Christmas with our local emo, but apparently somebody hates the holidays!”

“N-no, wait.” Virgil was sitting up now, shoulders still tensed, glancing between the three of them like they’d said something ridiculous. None of them missed the slight tremble to his breathing.

After a moment his eyes locked onto Patton, painfully uncertain. When he spoke, it was heartbreakingly small and timid, like he was terrified of the response.

“I...I get to stay?”

Patton blinked, and suddenly the energy in the room shifted, any tension or annoyance gone just like that.

“Stay?” Patton repeated, glancing at Logan who was watching Virgil like he was slowly piecing together a puzzle. “What do you mean, kiddo?”

“Like...you know…” he paused, suddenly looking far too nervous. “I don’t have to leave this year? For...for Christmas?”

And oh. Oh. He’d thought...he hadn’t thought the planning had been for him.

“Oh, baby.” He reached forward, cupping a now wide eyed Virgil’s face in his hand. “Of course. Of course you’re staying.”

Patton was suddenly picturing Virgil, huddled up alone in his room every Christmas, fighting to convince himself it was for the best. That he had to play the role of a villain.

That the others could never love him.

“Why would you not?” Logan asked, setting down his planner. “You’re a part of this family. Spending time with family is traditionally what holidays are for.”

And Virgil looked...bewildered. Like a little kid being told he was going to Disneyland for the first time. But there was a haunted look behind that, like he was waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him.

“But…” he stopped, swallowed, and started again. “But I- I never get to stay. I- I’m Anxiety I’ll just ruin it. You...you guys don’t have to--”

“Have to?” Roman repeated. “We’re not doing anything because we have to, we’re having Christmas as a family because we want to!”

“But--”

“Virgil,” Logan cut him off, standing from his place at the table. “Why would our affection suddenly stop as soon as the holidays came around?”

Virgil shrugged, eyes glued to his hands in his lap. “Nobody wants anxiety during Christmas. That’s what...that’s what you always said.”

Patton felt his heart break at the quiet resignation in Virgil’s voice. He opened his mouth to set the worries aside, but Roman beat him to it.

“We were wrong.” The prince stepped forward, taking Virgil’s hands in his. “And now we know you, Virge. And I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere but right by your side for the holidays.”

Virgil blushed, looking between the three of them, and Patton could practically see his defenses unraveling, the tension finally seeping from his shoulders.

“Apologies if we hadn’t made it clear,” Logan added. “But any plans had been made with you specifically in mind. We’ve all been very eager to make up for lost time.”

Virgil swallowed, and Roman squeezed his hand when the anxious side rapidly blinked away gathering tears. “Oh.”

“It’s going to be the best Christmas ever,” Patton exclaimed, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. “And we can do anything you want, kiddo! Just name it.”

Virgil hesitated again, still watching his new family like he couldn’t quite believe it, but the uncertainty was quickly being replaced with timid excitement and relief.

“I...I just want us to be together. That- that’s all I need,” he said. And then quickly added “And maybe to make cooler Christmas cookies than Roman.”

Roman gasped with faux offense, delving into a declaration of how otherworldly his cookie decorating skills were, and Patton sat back and watched as Logan jumped to Virgil’s defense with a wry smile.

They’d made mistakes in the past, and Patton wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for leaving Virgil alone all those years.

But they were a family now. They’d make it right, and they’d be together. Always.

[samgtt700]

The Will of Time

Chapter Nine

Previous chapter: Chapter Eight

Kamilah x MC

A/N: sorry for the wait again but it’s my decision to split the finale into two that makes it work for me and for my readers. Hope you enjoy and working on finale now! Stay tuned! Hope you enjoy.

Alice glanced at Lysimachus, entering his human mind with ease. Her voice echoing in his mind as he stepped back and then glanced at her, curtly nodding to him. ‘Listen to me. Time is short and you must do as I say. You must get to the others and offer your blood. I know your still weak and not ready to do such a thing but it’s the only way we all walk out of here.’

‘I will. I know the costs. I’ve lost too many friends to war.’ Lysimachus answered in his head. Nodding to her.

Alice charged, using a physic blast to knock Gaius and Cleopatra out of her way as she went after Dorian. Kamilah taking out the Royal guards near her, distracting them for Lysimachus sake. Slicing her way pass two before rolling over the third and snapping his neck. Making easy work of them compared to the past times she had sparred with them.

Lysimachus sprinting across, dropping his shoulder into the Dorians follower guarding the group, knocking him into the wall behind him, lysimachus quickly stepping on his throat and twisting his leg to break his neck. Fighting two more guards, his experience in war no match for dorians weaker followers as he sliced their backs before decapitating his enemies. Their heads rolling towards Lily.

‘And I thought Kamilah was good at removing heads in style.’ She chuckled, finding the humour in the most bizarre of situations like usual. Lysimachus staring at her in confusion. ‘Hey. Get me out will you.’ She held her hands up and Lysimachus cut her bindings. ‘Thank god. I only agree when there is a hot girl involved.’

‘Not the time Lily.’ Serafine was released from her bindings, helping Cal out of his. ‘We need to cut down their numbers and isolate Gaius, Cleopatra and Dorian.’

‘Alice is isolating them.’ Lily saw Alice fighting all three with precision, having no issue holding the three of them at bay with her experience. ‘We all know what to do.’

Lysimachus knelt and offered his wrist to Adrian who nodded before sinking his teeth into him, feeding off him before breaking free of his shackles. He charged at Gaius and threw him into a nearby pillar. Serafine feeding off nearby guard with lily. Regaining their strength and rejoining the battle. Katherine escaping her binds, and sprinting across to Alex, cupping his cheek as she saw his injuries. ‘Your not joining the fighting, your in no shape.’

‘I must, they need me.’ Alex insisted. Getting to his feet weakly before falling forward into Katherines arms. ‘I have to prevent Kamilah.’

‘Prevent?’

‘My step mother warned me that time could break if I failed to stop her when it mattered.’

Katherine pulled him out the way, insisting. ‘We’ll be safe here.’

Alex saw Nik pass him, aiming up Cleopatra and firing, a bolt going through her hand as she went to stab Kamilah in the back who was fighting one of Dorian’s sorcerers. ‘Not today.’

Kamilah cut the throat of the sorcerer before driving a dagger for cleopatras chest. ‘I trusted you and you betrayed my family.’ She was surprised how quick Cleopatra moved for a new vampire.

Alice ducked underneath a fire ball Dorian launched, weaving around his guards as they attacked her, focusing on her. She was shot in the back as she cut down the last one, falling to her knees, reaching behind her and ripping it out before seeing how tired and quickly launching it back and taking him out. ‘You and me. Let us end this.’

‘I’m never alone.’ Dorian smirked, Alice watching as Gaius impaled Adrian and subdued Serafine and Lily. Leaving Kamilah and her as the only vampires standing. Cal taking down the last royal guard before Gaius launched himself at the werewolf, Cal throwing him off before collapsing when she saw how bloody his fur was and Gaius’s Roman blade covered in blood and fur.

Kamilah was pushed back by Cleopatra and Gaius to be beside Alice. Lysimachus being forced back by Katherine to hide as Nik was shot in the back by guards.

Dorian, Gaius and Cleopatra charged, Alice and Kamilah fighting back to back, stopping their strikes, Alice feeling Dorian’s anger as he tried to enter her mind again but she threw it back at him, getting into his head and messing with him enough to distract him and she grabbed Kamilah’s dagger from her back pocket and stabbed him with force. Slamming him into the pillar across the room. Gaius heistating as Kamilah sliced all the way up his arm, Alice seeing Cleopatra taking advantage of Kamilah stretched out in her attack and Kamilah was sprayed in blood.

‘No!’ Kamilah dropped her daggers and caught Alice, impaled by a fire spear. Alice gritted her teeth as she pulled it out, her body not healing.

Dorian pounced, stabbing Alice with a stake. Kamilah screaming, Alice’s body vanishing before her very eyes. A rage filling Kamilah, Serafine feeling it as she managed to get to her feet. ‘No Kamilah!’ But it fell on deaf ears as Kamilah lost it, stabbing Cleopatra through the skull, her head exploding as Kamilah used force to kill her cousin. Her body turning to ash, Gaius barely dodging Kamilah daggers before he felt a dagger in in the back, Kamilah suddenly behind him and she ripped a dagger up his spine, taking his ability to walk as he fell to the ground.

Kamilah spinning her daggers in her hand, scowling and fangs ready to rip through her enemy. ‘You took everything!’

Dorian opened his hand and the fire spear landed in his hand. ‘Now you know how it feels. To lose everythingl!’ Dorian charged, Kamilah weaving around his swings with speed and striking with precision, hitting all his weak spots, stabbing him over a dozen times before stabbing him in the kneecap, taking his ability to stand on his right leg. Dorian still fighting a hopeless fight. Kamilah sneering before grabbing his spear and snapping it in half, her hand wrapping around his throat. His hands wrapping around her wrist, trying to break it to prevent her squeezing. Fighting with everything he had in him to stop her.

‘Kamilah!’ Adrian tried to stop her but Kamilah grabbed his throat and tossed him aside.

Kamilah snapped his neck, and ripped out his spine. Tossing it aside like a rag as dorians corpse hit the ground, bleeding heavily. She stepped back and took a few deep breaths. Hearing Gaius groan, trying to get up as his body healed. She knelt and picked up Gaius Roman blade, letting the tip drag along the ground. Gaius crawling to escape as kamilah impaled him with his own blade. ‘You’ve made me suffer at every turn.’ Kamilah knelt in his view, moving the bale and hearing Gaius scream. Letting him suffer.

Adrian tackled Kamilah again, ‘enough. This isn’t you!’ He pinned her in a complex hold, trying to hold for as long as his strength to hold the ancient vampire. ‘Stay down Gaius.’

Gaius couldn’t reach the blade, stuck where he was. Unable to escape, at the mercy of his enemies. ‘Your all vampires. I can feel my blood through your veins.’

Serafine felt Alice’s presence as Kamilah mangled Adrians arm to escape, seeing more of Dorians followers approach her. And she let them suffer before their death, prolonging their pain and suffering as she tore them apart. Adrian watching as the darkness overtook Kamilah.

Lysimachus dropped his sword, stepping through Kamilah’s carnage, not knowing if he could stop his sister but never realising she was capable of this. Learning a new side to her, realising how different this version of Kamilah was, how harden and cold she was. Like light had turned to darkness, the flame ignited was no longer pure. He stopped and glanced at the human version of his sister, ‘forgive me.’ He whispered before passing Adrian and serafine who tried to stop him. ‘No. I can stop her.’ He insisted, brushing them off and stepping over the bodies, finally reaching his sister who slit the throat of a follower. ‘Kamilah. Stop this madness, before it’s too late. You can come back from this. This isn’t who you are.’ He pressed his hand to her shoulder, hoping he could get through to her.

‘No!’

Lysimachus watched helplessly as his sister’s red eyes and fangs scowled at him, snapping his hand before plunging her dagger deep in his chest. Kamilah not registering it was her brother, as she shoved him away.

Serafine and Adrian both leapt forward, pulling Lysimachus back before she could harm him more. She pulled out his dagger and applied pressure to his chest with some curtain. ‘You’ll be ok.’ Serafine could feel where his wound was and knew his time was short without help. But feeling helpless to stop Kamilah as she raced upstairs to continue fighting anyone who opposed her. ‘She’ll slaughter everyone if we don’t stake her.’

‘I can’t.’ Adrian felt helpless. He didn’t think Kamilah would ever turn into a monster. ‘I can’t do it.’

‘We must. And you have to do it.’ Serafine pleaded. ‘Your the only one who could get close enough.’

‘She’s my sister.’ Adrian couldn’t do it, he always saw the good in everyone. Even in their darkest moments.

‘If you don’t. Everyone will die.’ Nik walked over. ‘She’s no longer herself. Alice’s death removed the last of her humanity.’

‘She’s no longer human?’ Lily asked. ‘Because the last time I checked. She wasn’t an alien.’

‘Not the time Lily.’ Adrian scowled. Turning back to Serafine and holding out his hand. ‘I’ll try to stop her without killing her, last resort.’ Serafine handed him the stake.

‘There is no coming back from his without a miracle Adrian. We’ve seen it a thousand times and we always have to make the hard choices.’ Serafine didn’t want to kill one of her dearest friend’s either but there needed to be a decision, and she doubted Kamilah could come back from it.

‘I know. I just-’

‘You never imagined it would be Kamilah we’d have to face.’

‘Yeah…’ Adrian resigned himself into the toughest decision of his life. Unable to stop what needed to be done now. ‘I’m sorry Lysimachus.’

‘I’ll go with you.’

‘No. This is something I have to do alone.’ Adrian loosened his tie, glancing at Gaius. ‘Make sure he doesn’t follow.’ Adrian made his way upstairs, following the blood trail. Stepping over the bodies, before finally coming face to face with Kamilah. Facing down his oldest and most dearest friend, drawing the stake when he saw the slaughtering of guards and servants alike.

‘They served my enemy.’

‘Kamilah. You killed innocent people.’ Adrian answered. His hand tightening around the stake before preparing himself for the toughest battle of his life. ‘You know we don’t stand for that. You don’t stand for that. We protect them.’

‘Cleopatra took everything from me.’ Kamilah glared. “Gaius took everything from me. Dorian took everything from me.’

‘Your family-’

‘They took Alice!’ Kamilah scowled.

‘You have me. You’ll always have me. Don’t make me do this Kamilah. Please.’

Alex pushed to his feet, pushing off Katherine despite her protests. Approaching Dorian’s broken spear and picking up the pieces, binding it with his magic and holding it up. Channeling his magic through it and feeling Alice’s presence before smirking. ‘She’s alive.’

_______________________________________________

Alice landed in a river, groaning as she pulled herself ashore. Her body broken and battered. Rolling onto her back and looking up at the night sky, the stars seemed peaceful but the smell of smoke and death told her a different story. Seeing the royal palace across the river Nile. Hearing screams and feeling pain. Holding her side as she stood, feeling blood soak her hand, picking up her sword with her free hand and stumbling forward. Struggling with injury and her body not healing at the pace she needed it too. ‘Come on. They need my help.’ She fell to her knees before forcing herself back up. Taking a deep breath and feeling how many ribs were broken in the fall.

Tags: @wildsayeed, @made-me-deep-blue, @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @midnightlive, @blaine-hayes, @h-doodles, @playallthechoices, @kamilahforever, @jellomello2akast, @kamilah-the-bloodqueen, @helpconfusedpersonhere, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @nydeiri, @tigerbryn11, @lifesadance96, @leenasayeed, @paodequeijofeliz-blog. @queenkamilah, @boundlessgratitude, @gaydinosaurbananamilkcarton, @kamilah-is-queen, @dimis-yiddies. @nell-crainxx, Let me know if you want to be added or if I’ve missed you, or accidentally tagged you. I’m having to comb through about four different lists! @vonda-b-real, sorry, it’s two chapters but I promise you’ll love it!

[darth-does-stuff]

“How are Roman and Virgil?” Logan asked him, sitting on a bench outside of his school. Patton sighed next to him.

“Oh, they’re alright, I guess. They’re currently fighting right now, ignoring each other until things come to a head like they always do. Or until one of them caves and they finally talk to each other,” Patton ran a hand through his hair, leaning back onto the bench.

Logan cast him a sympathetic look, “Will they be alright?” 

Patton sighed again and nodded, “Yeah, they’ll be fine. It’s just—they’re so stubborn, y’know? I am too, don’t get me wrong. I’m probably even more stubborn than them. But Virgil likes to say I’m ‘quick to anger, quick to forgive’. But those two…I love them, but sometimes they just can’t get over their pride. And--and all of us have our flaws and our problems and fights are inevitable, in romantic relationships or platonic ones.

But you can’t let those flaws dictate your relationship and let them break you apart. After those fights are over, you have to apologize if needed, acknowledge the fight and learn from it, and move on. You just gotta—I’m rambling aren’t I?” Patton flushed slightly from embarrassment, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

“Maybe a little,” Logan admitted, a soft look in his eyes, “But I don’t mind. I like hearing you talk,” he shot Patton a smile. Not the usual goofy grin that he always seemed to wear, no, a real, genuine smile that made Patton’s heart thump in his chest.

Traitor, he thought, inwardly scowling at his rapidly beating heart. On the outside however, he flushed slightly, but not from embarrassment this time. Not like he’d ever say that to Logan, though. 

“I—thanks,” he shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, hoping the flush on his cheeks could be attributed to the cold day. 

Logan nodded slightly, that smile still lingering on his face as he looked around at all the people milling about. 

“It’s nice being around you,” he admitted quietly, “You’re very calming.” 

Patton’s flush became 10 times brighter, his ears tomato red. “You too,” he managed to say over his rapidly beating heart. Could Logan hear it? He wouldn’t doubt it. But Logan said nothing, just relaxing alongside him on the bench. After a few moments, his phone buzzed and he checked it.

“Oh, damn, I gotta get home. Ma’s wondering where I am,” he grinned at Patton. “See you around?” 

“I—yeah, um. If you want I could give you a ride back home. It’s just kinda a long ways back and I don’t want you walking in the cold,” Patton stammered.

“Oh, sweet! If you’re good with that, then yeah, thanks!” Logan’s grin became brighter. He shot his mom a quick text before standing up. Patton looked away as he tried to compose himself before standing up as well.

When he looked back, he saw Logan staring at his phone, laughing softly at the text his mom sent back. He took a deep breath. This boy was going to be the death of him.

a/n: this one shot is basically just patton being a disaster pansexual and also explaining that things aren’t totally perfect in AMP, they do have flaws and arguments and i felt the need to write that and communicate that

[miguel-manbemel]

Roman’s Brightest Idea

It’s been ages since I wrote a story. But today I had an idea for a story full of angst, and then while I was writing it, I couldn’t help filling it with platonic logince, so here you have this short story and I hope you enjoy it.

INDEX POST

Roman was writing in his room, with his finest golden fountain pen. It had all started, as usual, from a little spark, but Roman saw from the beginning that this spark had potential and he decided to develop it into an idea for a story, and finally he stamped his seal on the last page, then put all the papers in a red velvet folder.

“I did it! This time I did it! This is the best work I’ve ever made in my life! This is my brightest creation!”

Roman started bopping and giggling, like he always did when he finished a work he was proud of, which tended to be the majority of works he finished. It was like, for a minute or so, he returned to his five year old self, who reacted the same way when he finished his first ever fairy tale.

“I can’t wait to show it to Thomas! He’s gonna love it!”

And so, Roman grabbed the red folder and sank out to the outer world, looking for Thomas. He found him in the bathroom, having a shower. It was noon and he had just woken up.

“Hi, Thomas!” Roman yelled

“Jeez!” Thomas screamed, startled “Oh, goodness gracious, Roman, don’t do that, you scared the heck out of me!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, I’m overexcited!”

“Oh, is that so?” Thomas said while he turned the shower off, then grabbed a towel and got out.

“Yes, because, you see, I’ve got great news, I’ve got a new idea for a story that you…”

“Yes, that’s great and all, but could you talk to me about that later? It’s getting late and I’m still naked, and I still haven’t got my breakfast, then I gotta go to the office fast, I’ve got a meeting today.”

“But this story…” Roman said, his smile had left his face.

“Later, Roman, I promise. I’ve got a long day ahead of me, please try to cooperate with me, okay?”

With that, Thomas put his bathrobe on and headed to the bedroom to get dressed. Roman was left behind in the bathroom.

“Okay, Thomas, if you’re busy I won’t bother you now… I’ll try later.”

Roman sank down and returned to his room. He looked at the red velvet folder.

“Perhaps it’s not that good?” Roman pondered. “Maybe I need to give it some more time before I bother Thomas? He seemed pretty busy… But no, Roman, you gotta trust yourself a little bit. It was a real masterpiece and when Thomas sees it, he’ll agree too!”

Roman waited a few hours.

“I’m tired of waiting. Perhaps Thomas has finished his meeting already. Yep, I think it’s the time to show him my work. Let’s go.”

Roman sank down and he raised up… standing in the middle of the table right on Thomas’ meeting. Nobody seemed to see him except Thomas, who showed a face of horror.

“Whoops…” Roman said. “I guess it wasn’t over yet…”

“Are you okay, Thomas?” one of his team members said “You look concerned.”

“I… I have a little pain on my tummy, that’s all. I didn’t want to say anything to let him finish his exposition, but truth is I could use a little recess to use the bathroom, if it’s okay with you.”

“No, it’s totally fine, I think we all need a break, this meeting has gotten longer than expected.”

“Then it will be 15 minutes. See ya later guys.”

All the meeting members went out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Thomas, I thought…”

“Don’t ever do that again, Roman!” Thomas said with a voice of anger

“But I’ve been waiting all day and I wanted to show you this idea. I warrant you that it’s the best work you could…”

“It’s not the time for that, Roman! You can’t just pop up whenever you want without permission!”

“But this is…”

“Nothing warrants you the right to do that, Roman! If you continue like this, I’m gonna start to think that you’re not so different from Remus after all!”

“Wha…?” Roman face went ajar, his eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Now, go away, and don’t bother me for the rest of the day until I tell you you can come, is that clear? I wanna hear it from you.”

“It’s… it’s clear, Thomas…” a little sob interrupted the sentence but he managed to pronounce it with all the dignity he had left in him. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Good, now go. I have to go to the bathroom so that the others don’t suspect. Look what you’ve made me do, now the meeting’s gonna last forever. Go now!”

Roman sank down, then returned to his room. Now the tears were falling down his cheeks. He looked at the red velvet folder. He opened it in an explosion of anger, grabbed the pages and tore them to pieces while he yelled like a wounded beast, then he threw the pieces of paper to the floor and started crying on the table, sobbing so loudly that he caught Logan’s attention from his own room. Logan was repelled by feelings of that kind but still, he couldn’t help but worry about his friend and decided to check on him.

“Roman? What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“What… what do you want?” Roman said mid sobbing “Don’t you see it’s not the moment to bother me, Teach? Leave me alone!”

“I would, Roman, but logic tells me that if I did, that only would be bad for you. I may not be an expert of feelings, and I don’t know a lot of things in that field, but I know that you are my friend. You know you can count on me for anything you want, and I’d be glad to help you if I can.”

Roman looked at Logan, his eyes all red and his makeup all ruined. His face showed then a grimace of hurt as he opened his arms, inviting him to hold him in a hug. Logan hesitated for a second as he didn’t like that sort of affection, but Roman’s devastated face made him realize Roman needed it, so he just went next to Roman and held him tight. Logan could feel Roman’s tears soaking his shirt and the humid warmth of Roman’s breath after each sob muffled on his chest right on his necktie. It was an unpleasant sensation for him, more for the emotional charge that it had that communicated to him how broken Roman was, something he didn’t like to see at all, something that would have hurt him if, he thought, he had feelings like the others. He didn’t know why he had the need to do so, but Logan started petting Roman’s hair while Roman went on crying a river on him.

After a few minutes like this, Roman’s crying slowly started weakening and he finally calmed down. Still, he stood hugged to Roman for a few minutes more in silence, Logan still petting his hair. It was finally Logan who broke the silence.

“Are you okay now, Roman?”

Roman just nodded in silence, still reluctant to let go off Logan.

“Take all the time you need, then tell me what happened.”

Roman still stood hugged to Logan for five minutes. Then he finally let go.

“Thank you, Logan… oh, I’m so sorry, your shirt and necktie are soaking wet.”

“That’s not important, but it tells me that you have lost a lot of hydration, so here…” Logan invoked a bottle of water and gave it to Roman “drink some water, you need it and it will make you feel better.”

Roman started drinking. He really was thirsty as he finished the whole 24 ounces of water in no time.

“Want some more?”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Logan.”

“Now tell me calmly and slowly everything that happened, Roman.”

Roman proceeded to tell him how the day was for him. Logan listened to the whole story without interrupting him, focusing all his attention on Roman.

“...and then you arrived” said Roman, finishing the story.

“I see…” Logan said pensively “I can understand Thomas’ reaction to some extent, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to be so nasty to you, Roman. I’d say that you startled him so bad he acted out of instinct, in fear. It was just bad luck and bad timing, that’s all.

“I’m not so sure… Thomas hates me, especially after my appearance in the meeting.”

“I strongly disagree, I don’t think Thomas hates you, Roman. I’m sure under other circumstances, he would have loved to see your story. Thomas has always loved those worlds of fiction you invented for him. Even if I never fully understood them, I knew they made him happy and that was enough for me to approve your labor. You just caught him busy and stressed out, that’s all. And we all say things when we’re angry we regret later.”

“Have you ever been angry in your life, Logan? I thought…”

“Who hasn’t been angry at some point in his life, Roman? No matter if it’s for something that happened to us or something that happened to others or in the world, everyone experiences anger from time to time, it’s as natural as breathing. But anger always calms down and allows us to judge things more calmly. I’m sure Thomas will have that time to ponder what happened and he’ll come to you.”

“Do you think so?” Roman said, then he noticed the floor all full of pieces of papers “Oh, look at what I’ve done… my story idea is all ruined. Now Thomas will never see it…”

“Can’t you rewrite it all again?”

“No, I don’t think so. Once I put an idea into paper, it’s like waking up from a dream, I forget most of it. I could try to rebuild it from the pieces, but it would never be the same.”

“I can help you pick up the papers and maybe from the little pieces…”

“I don’t know, it would take forever and Thomas cannot stay that long without a story idea.”

Thomas rises up in Roman’s room.

“There you are, Roman!” Thomas said.

“Thomas? What… what are you doing here?”

“I’m so sorry, Roman. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I treated you all day during and after the meeting. I hope you can forgive me.”

“It’s okay, Thomas. It was my fault for appearing so suddenly. I thought you had finished the meeting but I was wrong. I apologize too.”

“Well, now I’m totally free for you and I can see that bright creation of yours, if you still want me to.”

“If I still want you to? Nothing would have made me happier, Thomas. Unfortunately, it’s too late…”

“Why, where is it?”

“You’re standing over it.”

Thomas looked at his feet, saw all the pieces of paper and understood.

“Oh, Roman, I’m so sorry… But maybe we can fix it.”

“We could try, but it would take forever and it would never look the same as it was when I first created it. I don’t know if it’s worth the time to try.”

“Yes, it probably would never look the same… but it could look even better than before. Let’s pick up the pieces and get everything we can from them. You are Creativity, you’re not gonna get scared by a little hard work, do you?”

“Of course I won’t. I’ll do my best to reconstruct the idea if you want me to, Thomas.”

“And we’ll recruit the help from everyone, that way we’ll finish it faster, and maybe everyone could give their contributions. It can be a fun task for the rest of the day, okay?”

“Okay, Thomas. I’ll do my best.”

Thomas gave Roman a short but very tight hug that pleased Roman, then called the others. It took a few hours, but everyone together managed to pick up all the pieces, reorder everything they could and, filling the gaps with everyone’s ideas, they managed to create a story that would eventually become one of Thomas’ most viewed and acclaimed videos ever, something Roman would always be proud of, especially because he had the chance to create it with the help of all his friends and that made that his most cherished creation of all.