#we could be married they could kill for and burn the world down for me and 5 minutes later i’ll be like but you do still even like me.

[byclairs]

someone could spend eternity repeatedly going back in time to save me and if i had to guess who their favorite person was i still wouldn’t say it was me

[inkskinned]

which is fine, because love is love, and you're getting gay-married, so it would be kind of ironic if love was only sometimes love.

except The King Of Demons (his is Edmund) is always late, to everything, always. which is fair, because time doesn't work in hell, and it's not like he can just catch a bus. except that you specifically asked him not to do this, didn't you, because he's always doing things like this.

He splays out his hands, the light catching on long, ivory claw tips. god, doesn't he know not to wear white to a wedding?

so many people are screaming right now.

it's not that he's the golden child. you guys had normal parents, middle-class. your mom was kind of an "almond mom," according to your fiancée, who pursed their lips when they found out about how your mom used to wrinkle her nose any time you asked for an extra snack in your lunchbox.

you close your eyes for a moment. think of your beautiful almost-spouse. ashe. their name like a bloom inside you. how the dress looks on ashe's body, their shy little smile. how they'd walked down the aisle, and you'd both been half-laughing, half-crying. your hands had trembled when you saw them. like the whole world was pouring down your throat, golden. like you were catching a moment and casting it in amber.

ashe'd been the one to help you when your parents were pushing for you to invite edmund. god, the amount of fights you'd gotten in with your parents - the same six sentiments, over and over again.

you'd been sitting on your bed, biting your lip, your fingers hovering over the little button send. ashe'd nuzzled your neck. you used to be close, and i think that's important. but you know your relationship to him the most. i'm willing to make the effort, and i love you no matter what you choose, they'd said. we don't have to if you don't want to, though, no matter what your parents say about him.

you'd thrown yourself down, supine, arm over the eyes. he's just... we are just.... you tried to phrase that-which-is-love-and-rage.

you're the normal twin. your "big thing" was only "being a lesbian." in high school, edmund started being able to make birds die by looking at them. you came home, trying to tell your parents i kissed a girl. i think i'm - and they just kind of nodded at you. edmund was eating the bible in front of them, like a goat.

on the bed, you'd held your hands out vaguely to ashe. edmund is a just always a lot.

ashe had shrugged. don't invite him then. and it was that - that they were okay with either of your decisions - that is why he even got an invite, in the end.

and now here he is, like how you wanted (?), and your hands are red, clenched hard around your bouquet. the officiant is crying. some people are on their knees, praying. some are trying to touch your brother, like he could impart a blessing.

"i made it!" he's triumphant. "i know i'm late, i'm sorry, there was - do you know anything about right-wing politicians?"

"i'm going to fucking kill him," you say, although you're not actually sure who you're talking to, or if he can be killed.

ashe is blinking, their face in a tiny oh of surprise. you take their hand, drop their hand, take their hand again. they blink at your brother. their voice is low but steady. "there's, um. is there a dark halo around him?"

you duck your head to meet their eyes. "fuck, ashe. i'm sorry. he wasn't supposed to -"

"did i miss it?" Edmund is swinging his head around far-too-wide. his 2 sets of horns leave little red mist any time they scour through the air. "I didn't miss the kiss, right?"

the town clerk is in the audience, and she's frowning. you send her an apologetic look. she shakes her head. "as we've discussed," she manages to throw her gentle voice over the din, "the wedding isn't official if someone objects. that is the legal statute. which people tend to be understanding of." she sends a dirty look to edmund, and that makes you love her. she seems completely calm, which makes sense, because she works in the town hall, and this probably isn't even her first demon-showing-up-at-a-wedding.

he somehow hears her, holds his hands up. "i'm not objecting!" the back of the event hall catches on fire. of-fucking-course. "i'm not - don't mind me, uh, please continue." edmund sends a look to the back-of-the-room fire and it whimpers and gutters out. he flashes you a winning smile, and then puts his hand to his king's-garb chest and mouths sorry! and then cartwheels his glittering talons to say go ahead.

"i think i'm going to throw up." the officiant's voice is barely a whisper.

you watch in horror as edmund tries to awkwardly slide into a waiting line of chairs. the sound of begging follows him, people on their knees at hell's king. he pats a few of them on the head, holding up his finger in a sheepish shh! while his touch leaves a bleeding rune on their skin. his hooves click, and his footprints leave ruby-bright fireroses in his wake.

he tries to sit down, but the wooden chairs are made for people and not the lord king of demons, so he has to span his furred hindquarters over two seats. he smiles again, offers you a little wave.

the room is dead silent, minus the weeping. you look back to ashe. you ruined this. you shouldn't have invited him. you spent so much money on this event, and ashe looks so fucking handsome, and you haven't even gotten to kiss them. to make it official.

ashe looks up at you, manages a little smile. "could be worse?"

you feel yourself start to smile too, but then edmund's chairs give out, and he falls directly on the floor, and with his startled yelp, everything around him bursts into the cold whip-crease of hellflame, disintegrating everything that isn't-a-person, including the flowers and the decorations and the cake and the tables. everything you saved for months to be able to afford. the venue that you both agonized over choosing. you picked this place because it was significant to both of you and was equidistant from both your parents and had a deal with the local hotel for people coming out of town. two years of planning, literally burning down around your ears.

edmund manages to stop the fire pretty much immediately, but it's too late. the officiant faints clear away. the town clerk gives you a sympathetic look and mouths see you soon and steps neatly out of the room, taking ashe's parents with her, chatting gently. an arched flower frame collapses into dust with a loud whoomp. pretty much nobody is left in the building, and you're standing at the top of the steps, at the fucking hour of your marriage, and there is nothing left but blue-cold embers, the lights blown out in favor of the eerie hellfire glow.

you sit down, hard. after a few seconds, you feel ashe sit down next to you. you put your head between your knees so you don't puke with rage, which would be somehow more humiliating than everything else happening at the moment.

"okay, it's definitely too soon," they whisper in your ear, "but i have to admit there is something that's going to be so funny later about my name being ashe and my wedding going up in flames." they wrap their hand in yours. "i can't believe we worried about candles. we should have just gone with them instead of worrying about safety. are you okay?"

you send them a look. "am i - am i okay? this absolute bitch -" you gesture with your free hand out to where edmund is trying to piece together the cinders of his chair, "ruined my fucking wedding."

your mom is standing awkwardly in what used to be the "family" row of chairs. your father is absent, of course. she makes a noise at you. "don't call your brother a bitch."

"oh my fucking god." you have to put your head between your knees again, fighting that stupid fucking rage-puke urge. your blood pressure has obviously reached "skyrocket".

"he's here, isn't he? you're not being particularly grateful," your mother says, because of course she does.

"oh my god! ohmygod. ohmygod." you feel yourself hyperventilating, and then you start laughing, and you hate the hyena hysteria of it, the way it pitches dangerously close to a sob. "this is just - this is just like you! this is the fucking - you blow out the candles on the birthday cake! you curse the kids i'm trying to babysit! you get straight-A's on every test without studying, and get all the friends, and everyone is obsessed with you! and then when i graduate from art school, do i fucking get a party? nope! but hey, let's throw edmund a party for his 300,000th tortured soul! and his 300,001st! and fucking everything else. and fuck me, i guess! edmund gets hurt on the playground, let's burn down the playground. i got fucking bullied, and our parents don't even notice. i am fucking struggling, but we need to pay attention to edmund. he gets fucking everything. while we're at it, why don't we let him fucking ruin my wedding!"

you are dimly aware of ashe wrapping one arm around you and then the other, and then you are sobbing into their shoulder.

"oh, come on. stop with the hysterics," your mother chides you. "you had a perfectly fine childhood. all kids fight. you should have gotten the ceremony done faster. and you know i didn't approve of you spending all this money when you have student loans to -"

"respectfully," ashe's voice is cold and cutting while they rub circles on your shaking back, "and i know you're about to be my mother-in-law, but -" you hear them force a smile, "maybe you could choose this moment to leave your daughter the fuck alone?"

you are so fucking in love with ashe at that moment that it stops your weeping like you got hit by a truck. you look up at them, and want to go back to crying, just overwhelmed by the sheer fucking amount you care about them, but then you look over at your mother, and her shocked expression, and you burst out laughing.

your mother makes a few almost fish-like motions with her mouth, and then turns on her heel, stomping over cinders on her way out. and then it is just you and ashe and edmund and how you are half-crying half-laughing quietly to yourself, like a tap that won't stop dripping.

edmund has put the chair down. he is staring at his hands. he is at least 500 pounds and over 7 feet tall (he doesn't use metric, he's the devil). and somehow, right now, he just looks... small. crestfallen.

"yeah, i mean." his voice cracks. there's no boom of thunder or hellhound echo. he sounds like he did as a kid, before the strange powers and the levitating and the souls of the damned. he sounds like he did the night he accidentally melted most of the pieces in your first glass art show. he sounds - like your brother. he puts the heel of his palm against his eye. "i ruined my sister's wedding."

ashe offers him a little half-grin. "i do just want to say i love the aesthetic, by the way. but you did very much ruin my wedding too."

he points at them, finger-guns. "....ruined their wedding too." something in the attempt at humor - how his voice breaks on the words, how lonely he sounds. it makes you have to close your eyes against the sound. "....you seem cool," he says. "it's... it was nice to meet you."

you hear him come over, his hooves clacking slowly on the floor. when you open your eyes, he's sitting closer to you.

he opens his hand. inside are two little ceramic figures. wedding cake toppers. "i... i made them for you two. i figured i would try - how you make art, without magic. i... i took a class, and i made - i made them." he looks down at the little white-dressed people in his wide, calloused palm. "it's... i wanted to be ... good. i..." he looks at you, and then at ashe. "i tried, you know?"

ashe reaches up, lets him roll the figures into their palm.

he stands up. folds his hands in front of himself. "i don't. know how to be good. i know it doesn't come naturally to you, either. i saw you... choose. to be kind. you could have treated me different, too. like everybody? i was weird, and everyone knew. if you'd been ... mean? it would have been okay. but you." he shrugs. "one time you tried to kill me in the bathroom."

you don't know why you're crying. you look up at him through the cracks between your fingers. "twice," you croak. "but the second time i had a knife." you tuck your hair behind your ears. "but that was only after you pushed me down the stairs at grandma's and i broke my leg before a dance performance. you fuckin' deserved that one."

"i pushed you because you were being a wretched bitch."

"hey now," ashe says, a little edge to their voice, "that's my wife."

you squeeze their hand. "no, he's right. i had deleted his pokemon gold save file right before the elite four."

ashe drops your hand like you scalded them, showing the only horror you've seen this whole time. "you - girl, what the fuck?"

you shrug a little. "i was being a wretched bitch. and he did break my leg about it."

edmund shifts a little. "i just - you are...." his voice dies.

in your family, you don't say i love you. in your family, you don't touch each other or show affection. in your family, you just show up for each other, quietly. neither of you knows how to speak or process what needs to be said. you can see that lacking flashing over his face, literally playing out in shades of crimson. you get that weird twin-sense of something unsaid.

ashe sets the little ceramic people to the side. "she treated you like a person when everyone else treated you like a prophet."

you cut your eyes to them, and then edmund, who gives you one very short, sharp nod. "i, uh. i can. never try." he clears his throat. "i can never try hard enough. for that. i can - what you gave me. by. doing that. by ... just. i made. one thousand. wedding toppers. so it could be perfect. because - i ... it needed to be perfect." he appears to be dying of embarrassment, which does imply he might be capable of dying. oh good. in case i need to try to kill him a third time.

the thought makes a weird, wet laugh bubble out of you. "remember that one time i failed my math test and you set mr. fog's car on fire about it?"

edmund looks shyly at you, and a very small grin spreads across his face. not the dark lord - just a 30-something year old man who has just upset his one-and-only twin.

"you're throwing us the most ostentatious, egregiously expensive wedding," you tell him. "above land."

he frowns a little. "okay, but i'm not doing anything in miami. the vibes there give me the heebie jeebies."

ashe holds up their hand. "and you'll be repaying the deposit on literally everything. oh, and replacing the cake."

you kiss their cheek and then point to him. "and you'll be on time for it."

he shrugs a little. "okay, i literally can't perform miracles, so like. set the bar lower. i can't promise i'll-"

you look down at your feet. "i'd like you to be my man of honor this time. like. by my side. so. you can't be late this time. okay? we do it the right way. finally."

"huh," ashe says, looking between the two of you. "you guys have the same smile."

edmund's grin becomes a little wider, a little easier. he raises an eyebrow at them. "okay, i get that you're cool, but you're like, very cool about this whole thing."

ashe lifts a shoulder. "used to work for the monster under the bed."

"oh shit, simon? fuck." he points to them. "remind me not to mess around with you."

you want to tell edmund i love you and i missed you, but you can't. instead, you pick up the figurines. they're not perfect, but you can tell hours of his life went into each. his hands are so big - it must have taken him so much work to make these things so small. you picture him with his back bent over a workbench, trying to get a face into a tiny clay figure. the ceramic version of you is smiling. he's given you little fangs and a unibrow. he gave ashe a tiny yellow crown. you make the two figures kiss.

snow is falling indoors, little icicles of hellfire. ashe reaches out and take edmund's hand, and then, very awkwardly, he reaches out and takes yours too.

for a moment, it's just the three of you, and the beautiful quiet of the room.

You’re standing at the altar, about to get married to your beautiful fiancée. When suddenly the king of demons bursts through the door of the room, which naturally causes panic. You tried to warn everyone that inviting your sibling to the wedding would mean trouble, but they kept insisting.

[clrasecretdiary]

Oh no, i love him | Spencer reid x Bestfriend! Fem! Reader

pure fluff

u can find part.2 here!!

content: Spencer is flirty (:o shocking, i knowww), Spencer calls reader stuff like "honey" (down bad for this.), Mutual pining (no confession in this one), it's obvious to everyone, Penelope interrupts them, but it's fine because she's a princess.

a/n: heavily based on my need to bury my head in Spencer's chest at any minor inconvenience.

Ever since you joined the team, you always seemed to gravitate towards Spencer. He made you feel so comfortable, so seen. Naturally you two developed a friendship, now best friends, joined at the hip, never to be seen apart from the other. 

To anyone seeing from the outside it was clear the other feelings between you two, the tension, the stolen glances. At this point, you two acted as a married couple, but still pretended to only see each other as friends. 

-

You could not sleep, having nightmares the whole night flashes of Spencer lying down, bleeding going through your mind, images so clear you almost thought it was reality. The current case the team is working on is keeping you awake. This unsub, for a still unknown reason, has been targeting Spencer and you guys cannot get to the reason why.

You get in the office early, settling your things down at your table and heading to the kitchen. You catch yourself preparing two coffees, one with an ungodly amount of sugar and the other black. Right on cue, Spencer gets in the office. 

"Good morning, darling, how did you sleep?" 

"Good morning Spence, and you already know it, horrible" You say, handing him the coffee as he places a kiss on your cheek, and you try not to blush – you hoped to master that hence the amount of times you'd have to do it when you're next to him but no he always found new ways to make you blush and stumble at your words like a teenage girl with a crush. 

"What bothers that pretty mind of yours" He says, taking a sip of his coffee and opening a small smile, noticing how you always remember how he likes it. 

"It's this fucking case, it's been 2 weeks, and we can't figure it out, the MO is all over the place, and now he's targeting you… It's just… I'm worried" you say, getting close to Spencer and putting your head to his chest as you often did when the world just got too much  "we need to find this fucking guy" your voice coming out muffled against his cardigan. 

"We will catch him, it's only a matter of time, honey. You don't need to worry, ok? I'll be fine, we will be fine." He says, grabbing your chin and making you look up, making sure you're looking at his eyes while he says that. 

"If you ever die, i'll kill you. Be aware of that Spencer Reid" You say in a fake serious tone

Spencer puts his arms around your waist, making you two be even closer now  

"Oh, i wouldn't dare to do that"  he says giggling and placing a strand of your hair behind your ear 

There's a lingering moment of silence, you two just stand there, the closest you've ever been just… looking at each other. Being this close to him, you can see all the hues of brown in those beautiful eyes of his. And almost as if there's this gravitational force, you two start to get closer 

"Hey guys, i saw you getting in is there any coffe lef-" Garcia enters the office kitchen, scaring you both to opposite sides of the space 

"Yeah there's um.. Some left there i think" You say, face burning with the embarrassment

"We're you two…" She says, pointing between you and reid 

Before she could finish her sentence, Spencer gives her a death glare 

"Alright! … I'm just going to pour up some coffee and be out!" Penelope says rushing to get out

"Derek Morgan, you will not believe what a just saw" You can hear her saying as soon as she steps out of the kitchen, and you two can't help but burst into laughter 

"Well, i better go now, a lot of files. And um bad guys and stuff" 

"Yeah, me too" Spencer says, also blushing.  

You rush out the kitchen and as you walk over to your desk, a realization hits you 

"Oh shit,

Oh shit. I'm in love with him"

You think to yourself, realizing there's no way you can deny the feelings anymore. 

[multific]

A Thousand Years

Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion tells a story of love.

"Tell me about your wife." said the man sitting in front of Astarion, the room was quiet around them, only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

Upon hearing the word, wife, Astarion's features softened. 

"It might be a long one."

"I want to hear it." insisted the man as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for Astarion to start.

Astarion smiled, his eyes filled with love as he began.

"My wife... My beloved Y/N. She saved me you know, in more ways than one. She not only helped me kill the man who caused me so much pain and suffering, but she saved me from myself.

My beloved was a strong woman, brave and incredibly beautiful. She was a kind soul and yet, she could kill a thousand men without taking a break.

She loved songs and loved to dance. Although that might be because I was the one dancing with her. She often said she didn't wish to dance with anyone else but me.

She enjoyed sweets. But only the ones I have given her.

And even if I told her not, she kept on eating them.

It has been so long yet, I will never forget her laugh. She became my world. You know, it wasn't even intentional, I fell in love by accident. I was only meant to seduce her so she would help me kill Cazador. And yet I found myself in love.

But make no mistake, I never regretted the feelings I have. Not once. Falling in love with her was so easy.

I am quite privileged to be able to tell that she was my wife.

My... scars on my back, she cried when she first saw them. She hugged me and told me how sorry she was for I had to endure such pain. She kissed me and cried at the same time. I was so confused by it, I didn't know what to do.

But then, not long after, I asked her to marry me." Astarion looked at the gold band on his finger.

"I never believed in marriage, I thought it was silly for people to bind themselves to one another, and the symbol of it all... a simple ring. I laughed at the idea until I met the person I never wanted to let go of again. Suddenly I wanted nothing more but to have her bonded to me and for me to be bonded to her. I looked and searched for the perfect rings. Matching ones, but hers had a simple stone in the middle. A stone which was made of our blood. The perfect diamond, mixed with my and her blood. And then, we were married. Not like the words of others mattered to me, I would have been happy just to have her in my life, but to have her as my wife... it meant everything. 

I will not bore you of the events directly after the wedding, leave it up for your imagination I suppose, but I can assure you, she was the first woman who could have me at her feet with a simple look.

And she always looked at me with so much love and care. She was always so gentle and lovely.

When people say love burns like fire, they lie, my love for her burns like lava, much like the core of the Earth. I was ready to destroy everything and everyone who would dare get between us. If I had to, I would have burnt down villages for her, for she was mine.

And not long after, she gave me the greatest gift. 

A gift so precious.

I will never forget the look on her face when she told me, pure happiness.

She was with child.

Something I never even thought would be possible for me and yet there she was, getting more and more round with my child, with my son. Our son.

She was the sun for me. I have lived a long life in darkness and pain, and she made it all go away with a simple simple. I had a life of happiness thanks to her." Astarion leaned back in his chair once more when the noises from the kitchen stopped.

"STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DEAD!"

"I have never used the word 'dead', My Love." Astarion turned to look at you as you exited the kitchen.

"But you made it sound like I am." you pouted as Astarion looked at the ring on your finger, he smiled as you placed the food on the table. "Don't listen to him, Love, he is but an old romantic." you said as you sat down.

"I am very much aware, Mother. I just like to listen to him talk about you." admitted your son as he smiled at the two of you. Now a grown man, yet all you could see was him as a little boy running around the house, hair silver like his father's but eyes the same as yours.

"That's because I love your mother very much."

"I love you too." you replied as you all finally began to eat.

You two loved each other for a thousand years, and you will continue to love for another thousand to come.

Your son could only hope to find such love.

Taglist: @fleursirvart@greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace@sincerelyfan@theoneanna@aestheticsandmarvel@rororo06@castellandiangelo@destynelseclipsa@spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll@puknow@alwayshave-faith@alex12948@lxdyred@imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl@anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek@praline357 @trshngyn@avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse@jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie@noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[holybibly]

Heyy if your dark hours are still open…👀👀 would you mind sharing your thoughts about yandere Ateez concubine harem…? Or perhaps any harem that you can think of because I’m very much into this topic🤭🤭🤭

You know what? Today I wanted to be affectionate with you, damn bunnies, and spoil you with tenderness and sweets, but you just provoked my dark side with all these requests, didn't you?

So change of plan, bunnies; we're going down the dark and rough road. I love yandere's concubines, Ateez. God, can we think of anything more seductive and more dangerous than that? From now on, you should send me such requests more often, bunnies. Feed this demon within me.

You entered the palace as the wife of the new emperor. His fourth wife. His glittering war trophy.

When war came, your world was changed beyond recognition. Flames and ashes consumed the luxury and grandeur of the palaces, and the jewels turned to dust, leaving only you, the Ice Princess of the Northern Mountains.

Your life was made of crystal and your heart was made of ice stronger than diamonds, and it was this cold and lunar beauty that caused you to be forcibly married.

Yes, you may have entered the palace as the Emperor's wife. But you were a nobody within the high walls of the palace, just a sad reflection of past your greatness.

Everyone knew that the Emperor had a large harem, not counting the three older wives, but what really surprised you was that it was not only made up of girls, but of young men as well. There were eight of them. Each one more beautiful than the last, each one unique and unrepeatable.

Until one fateful night, you had never met them or seen them in person. It was a lunar festival, and you were its queen. Dressed in silk and the finest translucent tulle, as if kissed by the moon goddess herself, you sparkled and attracted the attention of everyone around you. Everybody, but not your husband. He didn't even look at you, brushed you aside as if you were an annoying mosquito, and sent you off to talk and smile at the guests while he went off to fuck another beautiful concubine.

And then, for the first time in your life, you had a meeting with the concubines of his other harem. And your world was turned upside down for the second time in your life.

It was love at first sight, a fire that burned through his veins and poisoned his mind. And it was all because of you. It was your fault that Wooyoung couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't laugh, and couldn't live. All of a sudden, his whole world was reduced to you and your heavenly, icy beauty. He passionately wanted to melt that ice, make you beg, squirm, and moan as he fucked you unconscious and painfully, filling you with his sperm and marking you as his property.

The only thing Wooyoung ever had in his life was his beauty. He grew up in poverty, living on scraps of food and the small amount of money he was able to pick up from the dirt. That is, until the day the current emperor, who was still a prince at the time, came upon him in one of the alleys, on the run from his guards. Wooyoung's dark fox eyes captivated him at once, and as if he had fallen under his spell, the emperor brought him back to the palace to be his concubine.

Wooyoung was a greedy concubine; there was always something that was not enough for him. He wanted to swim in luxury, to drown in gold and silk, to have diamonds, and to own the whole damn world. The best should be his, and so it was; the emperor gave him everything and more that Wooyoung had a desire for. And now you were in his sights. He wanted you so much that it ate him up from within and almost drove him mad, greedily and viciously, in the most horrible way in the world.

Yes, Wooyoung was greedy, and if he had to kill the Emperor to get you, he wasn't going to think twice about doing it.

One look at you could bring him to his knees. He would crawl to you like a pet if you commanded him to, and that desire was stronger than the hatred he felt for the whole of the world. You could tame his wild temper, and Mingi would want nothing more than for you to straddle him and ride his cock day and night, tearing the skin from his back and shoulders, choking him, and biting him until his will was broken. Mingi was uncontrollable and capricious, passion and fire raging in him, burning everything in his path, but your element was ice, burning him harder than hell itself.

Once upon a time, Mingi was a warrior, one of the great generals of his country, until the war came and destroyed his entire life. It took everything from him—his will, his family, his home. Yes, the war had taken everything from him except for the poisonous rage and the dark, vicious passion that was boiling in his veins. He was brought to the palace in chains like a slave, and that very night the Emperor took him by force and made him one of his concubines. This only made him bitterer.

Mingi was venomous and aggressive, biting and scratching until he bled, but you, you did something to him—you forced him into submission by your very presence, without him even knowing it. The wild, unbridled storm inside of him became the icy surface of the lake, soothing and healing. And Mingi wanted peace. He wanted the touch of your icy hands on his heated skin and cold kisses on his lips. He wanted you.

What is passion if not a flame that is a destroyer of all things on its way to its goal? And Mingi was full of fire to burn this damn palace to the ground to take possession of you.

He was sin clothed in a human body, debauchery and lust embodied in an image of heavenly beauty. The whole of Seonghwa's life had been nothing more than a constant stream of sex and an endless series of lovers. He could not get rid of this feeling; it was like frost on his skin. This constant, painful need was scratching him from the inside out. But when he saw you, all his thoughts were focused on you—on your pure, untouched skin that he wanted to lick and bite, on your slim waist that he wanted to squeeze as he fucked you continuously. On those red, seductive lips that would be simply amazing when wrapped around his dick. It was you he wanted, and for the first time in his life, Seonghwa wanted you to be the one. He didn't want anyone else, only you. 

Before he entered the palace, he was one of the most sought-after whores in the brothel, famous for his devilish beauty and his languid, cat-like gaze. There was a line of people waiting for him, and Seonghwa was more than happy to accept them all. He was insatiable, wanting to fuck anywhere and anytime, trying the most sinful and unusual things. He was a real slut. But when the emperor heard about Seonghwa and visited his brothel one day, everything changed. Suddenly, he was no longer just a whore; he became Imeretar's concubine.

Seonghwa's hunger could not be quenched, and one partner would never be able to cope with it. But here you are, pure and radiant like an angel, beckoning him with your immaculate beauty. You were stronger than his dark, insatiable demon of lust. He wanted to corrupt you, to make you like him, and to make you dependent on him, just as he had become dependent on thinking about you.

It is said that whores don't know how to love, but they know how to desire. And there was enough darkness in Seonghwa to consume and destroy the world; to possess your purity and chastity. Then let the world be plunged into darkness until you are alone with him.

Yeosang had never been interested in anything at all. The world was too boring and dangerous for him. He could never care less about it. If he could, he would stay safe and comfortable in his bed for the rest of his life. You were different—distant and cold, but with an inexplicable thirst to live. You wanted to see all the things around you, to experience the cultures and the art. The world was interesting to you, and that was a source of irritation to Yeosang.

Everything about you was fragile and exquisite, and the fact that you didn't see it was what made Yeosang so angry. Don't you see, little butterfly, the world is terrible and dangerous. You would be much better off with him in his bed, far away from anything that could harm you in any way. Perhaps you would finally understand that you shouldn't run away from the safety and comfort of his bed if he were to break you. If that helped, Yeosang would want to destroy you and fuck your little curious brain until you thought only of him. He would spend hours warming you with his dick, days kissing your cold lips, and smothering you with his attention and love.

Yeosang was always aware that one day he would be part of the emperor's household. He had been prepared for this since he was a child, pampered and protected from the whole world, so that there would not be a trace of dirt on his silky, snow-white skin. Always waiting for the Emperor to visit his chambers and warm his soft bed, albeit temporarily. Yeosang almost never left his room, but like all concubines, he had to attend the Moon Festival. And that's when he saw his fragile butterfly. And like everything beautiful in this world, you were too easy to break. Yeosang wanted to protect you, hide you between his sheets, and shower you with care.

Yes, beautiful things broke easily, sometimes too easily—delicate butterfly wings, flower petals, crystal jewelry. But Yeosang wanted to see how the most beautiful thing in the world—human life—broke.

He wanted to eat you alive. Sinking his teeth into you and never letting you go, you awakened in him this wild, all-consuming hunger that he could not satisfy with anything else. You were the most delicious dish of all, and your taste was his only desire. San had always been a little insatiable, wanting more attention, wanting to love more, wanting to more sex, wanting everything this world had to offer him. It was never enough. You walked past him without even looking in his direction, the trail of your perfume settling on his skin and seeping into his body, poisoning him as you went. He wanted you to pay attention to him, to smile at him, to love him, to touch him. Oh, he would never let you go, he would fill you with his cum over and over again, and it wouldn't be enough for his taste. If he could, his dick would be in your pretty pussy all the time, so warm and delicious. He was in desperate need of you, he was hungry for you, and this hunger was all-encompassing.

Ever since he was a child, San had had a voracious appetite, always in need of a bigger and sweeter bite to temporarily fill the emptiness inside him that was growing with him. He had everything he could ever wish for; he had grown up in a loving and wealthy family with titles, but the dark hunger that plagued him was terrible. No matter what it was, he was always in need of more. So one day, when the emperor asked if he wanted to join his harem, San didn't hesitate to accept, but the hunger didn't go away.

You were the most delicious forbidden fruit of them all, and San was desperate to sink his teeth into you. He could almost feel the heavenly sweetness of you on his tongue, and it was driving him wild.

The sky could crash and burn all around him, and he wouldn't care, as long as you could fill him up and satisfy him.

There was no one in this world who could ever be like him. There was no one like Hongjoong. There was no limit to his pride and his greatness, and any praise You never praised him, you never sought his attention, and you were never enchanted by his sharp mind, his sweet voice, or his beauty, which could only be rivalled by the devil himself. And Hongjoong hated it. He hated how much he wanted your attention and your love. He wanted you to worship him, idolise him, and devote your whole life to him. He had to have you in all ways, even if those ways were darker than the night itself.Hongjoong wanted to see you in his golden bed, stretched out on the silk, while he was ravaging your body. He wanted to hear the endless moaning of his name as his cock tore apart the little cunt that was yours. He was in need of it, so much so that his whole body ached.

Hongjoong was a trophy of war, just like you. He was a real prince, who was supposed to be a king one day. His ego knew no bounds, and he was cruel and daring. Of course, the whole of the palace was conquered by the magnificent prince dressed in gold - all of them, except for you.

Yes, Hongjoong was a true prince, and one day he would overthrow the emperor and take his rightful throne, and like every emperor, he had to have his empress. You may not see him now, but the day will come when Hongjoong will be the only sunshine that illuminates your life. And he couldn't wait for it.

Yunho has never been the victim of jealousy. He has always been the recipient of praise and adoration, a constant reminder of how much he is loved. Yunho had no idea how jealousy could be. Or so he thought, at least.

That night, when he saw you in the light of the moon, he had hatred for the whole damn world. How dare he look at what belonged to him? He envied all those who could speak to you so freely; he envied all those who could pronounce your name; he envied his emperor, who did not appreciate your beauty and who humiliated you. Damn it, Yunho was jealous of the very air you were breathing. He desperately wanted to be him—to live inside you and melt into your skin. He wanted to melt into you without a trace.He would have loved to take you to his bed, to kiss every inch of your skin, to fuck you long and slow, and to shower you with compliments and praise. He would like to have you in his arms all the time, writhing and moaning with desire and need. For him, you are the only thing he needs in his life.

Yunho used to be just a servant in the palace. But he caught the Emperor's eye. That very night, he entered the emperor's chambers as his new concubine. Yunho knew about the others; he knew that he was not the only one, but that never bothered him; he was able to share the attention of the emperor. Except you. You were his own, and even the world was not worthy of seeing you.

It would be so easy to have the entire palace blinded, so that no one else but Yunho would have to see your celestial beauty.

Jongho was a man too proud for his own good. In his mind, it was beneath his dignity to pay attention to others and smile sweetly at them. Jongho was the spoiled, arrogant son of one of the most important palace officials, and when his father had the chance to get close to the emperor, he naturally gave him to the harem. But even so, he still considered himself to be better than everyone else, even Hongjoong, who was a prince in his own right.

Jongho was the one who first saw you, quite by chance, when he visited his father on the night you were appointed as the emperor's fourth wife. The Emperor was a real fool not to see how brilliant and magnificent you were—a real crown jewel. You were a symbol of power, strength, and might, an enslaved princess of a once great country, and a black flame of desire flared up in Jongho—he wanted to own you completely.

He wanted you for himself—your thoughts, your will, your body, and your life. He wanted you to sit by his side, to be covered with jewels, and to bear his children. It was easy for him to imagine his hand wrapped around your fragile throat as he fucked you into the mattress, you begging and moaning for him, wanting to be filled with his cum.

Fueled by his selfish desires, his fixation on you became increasingly harmful and dangerous.

Out of all the trophies in the world, there was nothing that was more attractive to Jongho than you. And on the way to what he wanted, murder was never a serious matter for him.

[farfromstrange]

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness. 

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally. 

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by. 

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth. 

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.  

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him. 

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you. 

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him. 

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave. 

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you. 

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again. 

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you. 

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself. 

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. 

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive. 

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to. 

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure. 

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.  

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you. 

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you. 

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands. 

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts. 

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you. 

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop. 

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper. 

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth. 

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you. 

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart. 

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again. 

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all. 

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start? 

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say. 

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him. 

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.” 

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same. 

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back. 

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me as Disenchantment Quotes #1

Lucifer & Satan: *Laughing maniacally*

Simeon: “While I question their evil motives, it is nice to see them happy.”

Barbatos: “Now announcing the triumphant return of our heroes from their quest that we all privately thought would fail.”

Mammon & Leviathan: “…”

Lucifer: “How do we even know it worked.”

Solomon: “Oh but it must have worked. Now to test it, we need a volunteer to kill you.”

Belphegor: “Dibs.”

Barbatos: “How can you keep messing up a recipe with two ingredients?”

Solomon: “If you ever run into trouble give them this note.”

MC: “Kill me?”

Solomon: “Thirteen gave it to me, now I give it to you.”

Leviathan: “I’ve been meaning to…but the thing is, I…so you see…well, I’m glad we had this talk. How bout you talk now?”

MC: “But you haven’t said anything yet.”

Belphegor: “Well I was waiting to tell you until after I was dead so I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

Mammon: “Now just keep holding on, okay. Just keep holding on.”

MC: “It’s okay, it’s okay Mammon, I always wanted to go out while I’m still young and hot.”

Leviathan: “I didn’t want to tell you because I’m terrified of female emotions.”

Satan: “No, no, no, I was mostly raised by Lucifer. And a bunch of friendly drunks down at the pub. They taught me the fine art of stabbing.”

Barbatos: “It’s just too painful seeing the truth all the time.”

Solomon: “Ah, that’s why humans tend to avoid it.”

Belphegor: “The profession left without me.”

Diavolo: “Oh, that’s too bad.”

Belphegor: “I blame myself, cause I didn’t even notice.”

Solomon & Barbatos: *fighting*

Asmodeus: “Guys, guys come on. I’m much more embarrassed than I am aroused.”

Asmodeus: “MC, you poor baby. What a horrific day you’ve had. Let’s have too much wine and forget about it all.”

Beelzebub: “How’d you become a weird talking cat.”

Satan: “You keep shoving waffles in your mouth while I think of an answer.”

Thirteen: “I’ll use my skills as a hunter and Raphael will use his diplomacy to stab them with a broom handle.”

Solomon: “I used to spend many nights up here. Watching the sky, the moon, the neighbors.”

Lucifer: “This is your home. You’re free to explore.”

MC: “Wow, what’s behind that door?”

Lucifer: “None of your business nosy.”

Mammon: “Maybe you were overcome by chimney fumes. It happens quite frequently in a place like this with no chimnies.”

Satan: “What family curse? You mean insanity?”

Leviathan: “No, don’t be crazy. But yes I mean insanity.”

Asmodeus: “You guys are heavy. Do I really need both of you?”

Solomon & Satan: “Yes!”

Asmodeus: “Damn, I hate democracy.”

Mammon: “I knew you could count on me!”

Simeon: “What’s this called again?”

Mammon: “A a massage. It’s like a light well intentioned beating.”

Diavolo: “You’re clearly upset.”

Lucifer: “I’m not upset!”

Diavolo: “You said that like you were upset!”

MC: “Come on Belphegor be reasonable!”

Belphegor: “Never!”

Satan: “We’re gonna have to wing this in a dangerously half assed manner.”

Mammon: “That’s the Morningstar way.”

Asmodeus: “There’s plenty of fish in the sea, Sol.”

Solomon: “Like hell am I marrying another fish woman.”

Lucifer: “Disappointment’s a form of caring.”

Diavolo: “Tell me, where are you from.”

Solomon: “A country setting, it’s kind of like a farm but more stabbing.”

Simeon: “This whole thing feels like a weird dream.”

Mammon: “Or scurvy. When does scurvy kick in?”

Lucifer: “Believe it or not I know what it feels like to be burned alive by a mob of idiots.”

Beelzebub: “Oh, sweet butter, you’re the only thing right with the world.”

Solomon: “Morning, Belphegor! Care to try my new cure all? It wards off the deadly plague.”

Belphegor: “I’m actually hoping for death. Thanks though.”

Mammon: “For the first time in my life I feel completely calm and—“

Mammon: *Gets attacked by hawk*

Satan: “I’ve loved you since the moment you killed my brother.”

Mammon: “You don’t scare me! I was born scared.”

[annwrites]

— aemond targaryen quotes ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖ | sons & daughters

❝You prefer to watch then, niece? Come down, and I will give you a private show of your very own, if you instead join me.❞

❝What is it you pray for, then, I wonder? An advantageous marriage, perhaps. One for love, I’m sure. You always did have your head in the clouds as a child.❞

❝I recently learned yours never hatched, even after taking it such a long way. I could tell you why that might be, but I fear it may offend you. So, let me instead make you an offer.❞ (...) ❝Come join me on mine own. She is the largest in all the world. Just consider what that might imply about her rider.❞

❝At least you have not forsaken your mother tongue,❞ he’d said, coming closer yet again. ❝Mine own is quite adept at it, among other things.❞

❝Then perhaps we steal away in the dark of night, married in secret by a septon. Like something out of a fairytale book, which I know you loved so dearly at one time. Our marriage consummated upon a bed of hay, in a barn where our secrets lay hidden.❞

❝Let us flee across the Narrow Sea, then, for there is nothing left for me here now. Not with you having gone and hidden yourself away from me on that desolate island. Let us finally be free of our gilded cages, beloved niece. Together.❞

❝I see you have not forgotten our games as children we so often enjoyed together in those most private moments. Hm. How well we got to know one another then.❞

❝If I do, you will thus be ruined for all, wholly belonging to me at last.❞

❝Stay. I’ve enough of you walking away from me.❞

❝Have you much thought about it? What we did in the Godswood—alone—with just ourselves and our sweet sin between us? I know I have. Would you like to know what I did about it? Mayhaps you did as well.❞

❝Come, then, let us find a dark corner so I might explore and discover the answer for myself. So I might see in what all ways you have grown into a woman, besides just your disposition.❞

❝Fuck them. Let them watch.❞

❝You know the promise we once made: to never lie to one another. You believe me to have forgotten it? I lost my eye, not my senses, dear niece.❞

❝You belong with me. You are of my blood and I yours.❞

❝I will return it to you when you return to me. Not a moment sooner.❞

❝To my most beloved niece: how good it is to have you returned to me once again. For I have missed you so very dearly. I eagerly await our next reunion. I much hope it is…quite soon.❞

❝We should be together. We're supposed to be.❞

❝Tell me then, boy, if your whore mother did not send you prepared to wield a sword in her name, why did she not send my lovely niece then instead? I do so long to see her.❞

❝She is there, in that northern wasteland they dare call a kingdom?❞ He sneers. ❝She should be instead with me. She is my blood. Mine!❞

❝Y/N belongs to me.❞ (...) ❝Nothing will change that. Including some dull, passionless northern lord. What is he compared to her own uncle? A prince?❞

❝You see,❞ he cocks his head to the side. ❝She was meant to be my betrothed. She was created for me to have. I would not expect you to understand, but it is mine own blood which I am meant to wed.❞

❝Some unwashed northern fucking lord is not suitable for her needs! I am!❞

❝Do you want to know, then, mother? The things we did with only the Gods to bear witness?❞

❝I’m going to get my bride back!❞

❝My niece belongs to me! She belongs with me! Not fucking there! Mine! Mine! She is mine!❞

❝My fucking property! She was born for me! Created to be given to me to have and take to wife!❞

❝I'll burn the fucking North! I'll burn the whole God's-damned Realm if that's what it takes! I'll have Maester Orwyle cut that thing out of her, and fill her instead with my seed! A dragon, not a fucking dog! I'll feed it to Vhagar!❞

❝It is alright, my beloved niece. We're together now. None shall part us ever again, or I will kill them. I'll kill them all. I swear it.❞

❝You will remain always by my side. Until your last breath. You will not—fuck—so much as look at another man. You will remain in our chambers. Safe and sound. Always waiting for me.❞

❝You are perfect. Every single part of you was made for me to love. And I do, and I will, and I shall.❞

❝My beloved niece,❞ he drawls against the shell of your ear. ❝One lifetime of having you will not be near enough.❞

❝You are meant to be with a dragon. Not a wolf,❞ he spits.

❝I am giving you one last chance, beloved niece,❞ he says acidically. ❝Give up this bit of ridiculous pretend before you force my hand.❞

[happyely3]

Pairing: [Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader]

Genre/summury: |slice of life|- |Smut| - |fluff| -|Cuddle| - You’ve had a hard day and what you need is to pull the plug completely. Sukuna knows exactly what to do.

Word Count:

Warnings: |18+|smut|Consensual sex| Sukuna brings you to exhaustion| |All characters are of age. This story is +18| Minors don't interact|

You still couldn’t believe that you were finally back in the two-room apartment you had been sharing with Sukuna for almost three months. Yet you finally arrived, you had closed the door behind you and you threw your backpack and all your art material in the corner of the entrance, you took off your shoes and socks, You threw them into the dirty laundry basket and headed quickly to the kitchen to get something to eat. You opened the fridge and you took a dip in the cold cuts you had opened the night before, grabbing a piadina and composing it quickly, then you took the pan from the shelf above you put everything on the fire to heat that meal quickly. The hunger that had caught you was sudden and the cramps in your stomach were even more painful. "Don’t you say hello anymore?" Sukuna’s voice was a step away from you, her big hands appeared to embrace you from behind your back and her lips settled on your neck in a quick kiss that had left your skin burned at that point. You sighed at that touch, but withheld a groan. "Excuse me, Kuna, but I swear I’m starving." You answered by leaning against his broad chest and turning to kiss him on the cheek, corresponding to the tattoo that marked his jaw. Sukuna laughed slowly turning your piadina to prevent it from burning: "Was it a hard day?" He asked you then as he leaned on your back and inhaled your perfume, as if only your smell could calm him. He loved how the essence that he had given you a long time ago perfectly married to you.

"You can’t imagine. I arrived early to class and fortunately or otherwise I would have had to follow the lesson on the steps, we were too many and in addition the teacher arrived late and to complete the whole lesson made us lose half an hour lunch. The next lesson started soon after and so to not lose my seat I skipped lunch. Then the coffee machine literally left us in thirteen, abandoned us during the history of ancient art lessons! You know what a tragedy this is!" You said, sulking and making your boyfriend laugh. Sukuna has tightened himself to you and you have removed the piadina from the fire. "Then I had a review of a project, and the professor was going to take my world apart. I wanted to kill her!" You concluded by telling how your project had undergone a drastic change and that this would disrupt your exam plans and your timetable. Sukuna left you a kiss on the shoulder, reassuring you that you would still be able to get all your exams on time and if you needed help you could ask him. "You? What day did you have?" You asked while enjoying your snack, lunch, dinner. You didn’t have the strength to cook anything else and would have convinced Sukuna to get something to go. Maybe a good sushi.

"I’ve been in the lab all day, fighting with my colleagues." Sukuna replied by showing you the design of the machine for the exhibition of his mechanical engineering faculty: "Testosterone to never end." He added, making you laugh and imagine the scene in question, among all the colleagues of Sukuna there was a strange competition to be the alpha male: "Also my colleges envy us and they made me understand it in every way possible and imaginable. They still can’t figure out how I have a girlfriend." He added Sukuna by pinching your side slightly to have a bite of the piadina. "Am I in withdrawal?" You laughed by offering him that quick meal and then finishing it quickly to turn towards your boyfriend and hug him. You felt Sukuna’s hands clenching your hips and then coming down on your thighs to lift you up onto the kitchen countertop. "Kunaa!" You moaned as you tied your neck to her and Sukuna laughed hard and kissed your neck, then your jaw and finally your lips in a slow kiss full of passion that left you with an electric shock along the spine. "Please tell me you don’t have any crazy plans or studies for this evening as a program." Sukuna had detached himself from you and you protested against it. His crimson eyes were chained to yours, and your cheeks were red. You were about to answer him when his phone started ringing insistently. Sukuna grunted, hated to be interrupted on important matters. "Fuck you what?" You heard the voices of Sukuna’s colleagues on the phone telling him they had to spend a night finishing the project.

"The deadline is next week, next Friday." He had answered without too many words and raising an eyebrow. You loved it when your man took that expression angry, that expression of test to say only another bullshit and I make you swallow. You bit your lip thinking of that scene. Underneath you wanted to see him lose control and bring out that violent side he reserved only for the people he hated. "I have a life outside of you assholes." He said, emphasizing the last words with a look directed to you, too eloquent and you smiled caressing his forearm with nails at the height of tattoos. Another couple of uncute jokes and Sukuna had cut the call, putting the phone in his pants pocket. You looked at each other for a long moment and then burst into laughter when the ring of both of them was sounded again, simultaneously with your home phone. "Motherfuckers I kill." He said Sukuna, closing the phone and taking off the home phone. You took your phone and looked at the number of one of his colleagues, you looked at each other and answered the call. "Hi, Sukuna is with me, we are busy at the moment." You answered by continuing to stare at your boyfriend and enjoying the smile that was forming on his lips. Sukuna loved it when you played the flirtatious and sweet girlfriend in front of her colleagues, she could feel their frustration at that very moment when your voice became more seductive and sexy when you said her name. How much they could be at that moment.

"No, the deadline is Friday, you have also put the image as profile whatsapp of the group." You insisted with a fluffy voice, Sukuna came to bite you in the neck and you let slip a sigh that could not be misconstrued. "Sorry but we have to go and discuss." You said finally closing the call and pulling slightly Sukuna’s hair. "What else did they want?" asked Sukuna taking both your phones and putting them in airplane mode. "Nothing important, they said they wanted to kill you because you couldn’t give them up for the project for me." You answered by kissing the tip of his nose and grinning: "They also added things that are not very nice and very disgraceful." And the look of Sukuna filled with pleasure. "Fuck you, you’re my priority, baby doll." Sukuna picked you up and you held him like a koala, kissed you more than before and you scratched his neck muscles to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed, but it was a fight that you knew you couldn’t win. You have made your way without wasting time into your bedroom. The windows were down and the only lamp on was the one that recreated the sunset light, the one you had insisted on since you saw it in an Instagram video. Sukuna didn’t waste any time, she kicked the door shut and put you on the bed, you closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of clean sheets on your skin and opened them again when you heard the notes of the playlist that you and Sukuna had created for home.

You smiled for that moment. It was just you, the rest of the world didn’t exist. Sukuna was at the foot of the mattress and looked at you with his naked eyes. His shirt lay at the foot of the bed and the soft orange light highlighted his muscles and tattoos, you watched carefully the ink segments descend down her abdomen to the V of the groin and you licked your lips while with your fingers slowly caressing your boyfriend’s sculpted abs. You got up and knelt on the edge of your bed while Sukuna unlaced the buttons of your overalls and slowly started to strip you, you bent your back to help him get undressed and in the meantime you unlaced his pants belt. When your clothes are all over you have come even closer to Sukuna and keeping the gaze fixed on him you had dropped the zip of his jeans taking it with your mouth. You had, then, left a quick kiss on the bulge of his black boxer making him sigh and laugh with that smile that made you so crazy and shivering between your legs. "What a diligent girl we have here." she said, caressing your cheek and playing with your softness. You leaned on his hand groping and closed your eyes sighing: "I have a boy who devotes a lot of attention to me, it is right that I be diligent with him." You were left with only the white sweater and matching lace panties, hair strewn on the mattress and Sukuna above you, you could feel the warmth of her skin and its intoxicating scent flooding your nostrils, you squeezed it to yourself to continue enjoying that heat. His gaze set you on fire and his touch amplified all your senses.

You kissed with a new fire, seeking your tongues and fighting until the last breath before detaching again and looking hard. In those moments you loved even more the eye tattoos that your boyfriend had made on his cheekbones. Four eyes that only looked at you. Four red eyes that hypnotised you more and more and warmed your core in a way you couldn’t explain. "No bra on?" Sukuna asked, lifting up the crop top you wore that day in a rush to run to university and letting your breasts bounce free and not forced into that cramped garment, out of the room air. "With this shirt I risk not breathing as tight… Kunaaa…" You sighed when her rough hands leaned over your breast and began massaging it, slowly and in circular motions. You felt spoiled for those attentions. You were very large and often the bras you wore hurt, crushed your breasts and left deep marks on your skin. Quite a few times Sukuna had taken you by the shoulders and with the appropriate creams he had massaged your breasts to give you some comfort. "What a brat." said the man while lightly blowing on his nipples making them harden even more and sighing you. You instinctively spread your legs to feel his presence better, but his boxers and your panties did not help. You felt that bulge and wanted it inside you to forget all the stressful day you had.

A day you would have gladly replaced with one in which Sukuna was inside of you, filling you up completely. You scratched Sukuna’s shoulders when his mouth settled on your nipple starting to suck it while the other hand took to play with the other, and then you were the brat. Sukuna was like a hungry child at that time. The background music was so intense that you were stunned by all that attention, because every song you had chosen was perfect for sex and you both knew it. You tried to move but your boyfriend stopped you, with his left arm and went down to your core to start stimulating it from the outside, doing a simple movement over the panties. Up and down, middle and forefinger moved slowly pressing a little more when they were close to your clitoris and making you sigh loudly while Sukuna’s mouth was busy sucking hard on your martoriated nipple. You scratched his neck when you felt his fingers apply more pressure on your opening just to tease it a little bit and you bent your back a little bit more until the sudden orgasm hit you as Sukuna touched your clit again. You screamed loudly, arching your back and poking your feet on the mattress, quickly being invaded by that euphoric sensation typical of orgasm, you felt your body light and tense at the same time and then collapse on the mattress. The arms of Sukuna held you and now they lulled you. "I didn’t think you were so involved, brat." Sukuna broke off your nipple leaving only a trickle of saliva as the only link. You sighed again when his two big fingers moved on the soaked cloth and you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"I had a heavy day Sukuna…" You replied by taking his face in your hands and then kissing him on the Adam’s apple. Sukuna has embraced you, wrapping her free arm around your hips and enjoying the flickering of your body against hers, savoring every inch of your two curves and your toned physique in contact with hers. He missed you during the heavy day that he had had during group work and the only thing he could think of was to come home, pick you up and make love with you all night and the next morning, excluding the world around. "Let’s make this day better." He sighed near your ear and made you string like a violin string. You bit your lip as you slightly moved away from Sukuna and with your hands you went down his tense muscles, massaging them with your fingertips to then go down to his boxers. You kissed the muscles of his groin and with a calm that you didn’t know you had, you slowly took off his last clothes letting out his cock. It was hard, harder than marble and with veins in evidence and great. He needed care and attention you thought as you licked your lips and laid a light kiss on the dark chapel. "You’re playing dirty…" Sukuna had lifted your hair and held it in his grip. You smiled at that joke and kept on leaving wet kisses all along its length, focusing more on some points and biting the most sensitive ones just to hear your boyfriend’s moaning. Sukuna’s grip had become stronger on your hair as the free hand began to caress your back.

"What a good little bratt…" You felt as if Sukuna was tense and holding on to make the pleasure even longer and unload away the tension that had settled on both your bodies in that stressful day. You were sweaty and both warmed up and soon your condition would get worse. You took it all in one shot, risking to hurt yourself and but you were rewarded by the moan of pure pleasure that came out of your boyfriend’s mouth when you slammed his groin on the tip of your nose. You breathed its strong smell and with tears in your eyes you started moving at an average fast pace as you felt the muscles of Sukuna stiffening and the grip of your boyfriend becoming even stronger. Sukuna looked down at you, he watched his girlfriend crouching on the bed trying to give him pleasure and had not resisted any longer. He had blocked you and then lifted you slightly protesting that you were having fun and he laughed softly before kissing you again and taking you under him. You ended up on the opposite side of the bed and screamed when Sukuna quickly took off your panties and threw them across the room and then started licking your pussy greedily.

"So wet just for me…" And you cried out with pleasure when the tongue of Sukuna crept into you, softening your inner walls. "Ryo…" You whimpered as you felt the grip of his hands getting stronger on your thighs, leaving you with red marks. Sukuna didn’t leave you time to recover, he wanted to make a mess even more inviting, he wanted to eat you and drink every single drop of you. One of his hands has been clenching around one of your nipples while the other kept firmly clutching your thigh. Sukuna’s eyes were focused on your pussy along with her tongue, but the tattooed eyes were fixed on you. You knew they were fake, but it was as if Sukuna knew exactly what to do because he had that look on you and you couldn’t resist any longer when you felt two of his fingers creep inside you while his tongue continued to give you pleasure. You came abundantly on her mouth as Sukuna drank you avidly and continued to curl her fingers inside of you to give you even more pleasure and to look for that point that made you crazy. You tried to stop him, ask for a truce by pulling his pink hair but your boyfriend had not moved, he was enjoying the best meal that could happen. "Ryomen… Ryo… Ryo…" You called his name when his fingers met the point he was looking for, the one that made you jump forward and almost jump on the spot when Sukuna hit him several times in a row and at that moment you saw the stars.

The orgasm that took you made you tremble all, the scream of pleasure stuck in your throat and tears came down your cheeks for that stimulation so strong, into your soul deeper and fell on the mattress, Gasping and trying to inhale as much oxygen as possible to try to recover. Sukuna was still close to your core, eyes full of lust and satisfaction, with a note of malice that made you inspire even more deeply. You have pulled Sukuna towards you, in an even more fiery kiss and felt your taste on her lips, on her tongue. You have changed position, in the middle of the bed, you under him and Sukuna who overlaid you with all his beautiful and perfect carved head. And then you felt it enter inside of you, despite the long preparation you had to take it all. You held him tight and Sukuna lifted you slightly, harpooning your butt, to enter with ease. Centimeter by centimeter has entered inside you and for a moment you felt like you were going to faint because of the pleasure that you felt inside you. "Ryo…" you sighed, scratching his shoulders and biting his ear lobe. You heard him tremble and sighing in the hollow of your neck and then bite it hard and make you scream with pleasure as he started pumping his length inside you. You pointed your feet and moved your pelvis to try to respond to his movements, but your legs were soft and every time Sukuna sank inside of you it hit that damned point that made you go into ecstasy.

Sukuna bit his lip to keep his focus and you bit his neck to distract him and then kissed each other moaning in the other’s mouth. You kept on in that pose for a while until you felt a hankering getting closer and closer and you got close to Sukuna so as not to lose your balance. Sukuna kissed you praising your body as it kept moving inside of you, riding your orgasm slowly, savoring the feeling of your walls holding it so tight. You changed positions while you exchanged another kiss, now you were above him and dictated the rhythm to yourself, still feeling the thrill of the previous moment descend down your spine. You put your hands on his pecs and touched his nipples quickly, while Sukuna approached yours to suck both of them, his hands were resting at the base of your back and holding you so close to him that it created a tight rhythm, Fast and needy and muffled every time your crotch met and joined together. Your breath was irregular, and you closed your eyes many times to try to resist and not faint. It was so hard and tense that you still wondered how you had managed to take it so well and how he could still resist, you had seen his pre-season liquid by the way and it was so abundant that you waited anxiously for the moment when it would pour out inside you.

You have swung in bed once again, ruining the blankets and dropping the pillows. You were on your stomach and Sukuna was penetrating behind you, holding your arms steady behind your back with one of his hands, while the other had harpooned your buttocks to find a firm grip as it pushed into you. You felt your walls tighten tighter and tighter every time her cock came in and out of you, and Sukuna knew how to tease you by staying out for a few seconds before coming back in harder and starting to constantly hit your center. "Ryo… inside…" You said feeling the limit getting closer and closer, you were close to the fourth orgasm of that night and Sukuna’s movements had become increasingly confused and ferocious. "How you want, little bratt… ah…" Sukuna has stooped down upon you, using his hand to harpoon your side and not to depart from you. Your shadows on the wall evoked the image of two animals that were mating and it was that common thought that gave you the coup de grace. You felt Sukuna explode inside of you, pouring out copiously and pushing deeper while you kept following its rhythm and crying as hard as you came.

You felt Sukuna explode inside of you, pouring copiously and pushing deeper while you kept following its rhythm and crying as hard as you came. You squatted on the mattress, your breaths were tight but neither of you wanted to detach from the other. "You want to do another lap, you little brat." The roaring voice of Sukuna had made you partly recover, you still felt it hard inside you, despite he kept coming and pouring his semen into your womb. Your eyes were full of tears, your body was aching with pleasure, but you nodded and felt the grip on your hands become less strong. Sukuna was towering over you, his hands were holding your hips and his pelvis dictating a rhythm. "Ryo… please… do… do…" You tried to say something but the bite that came on your neck made you moan loudly, your voice outweighed the notes of the speakers as much as that gesture was unexpected. You felt his fangs sink into your flesh and his thrusts become stronger. You have tightened the blankets to try to resist all that sudden pleasure and felt it again coming inside you, even stronger than before. "What’s he doing, baby?" she asked you while licking the mark of her teeth while with well-placed lunges she kept stimulating your pussy. "It’s good…" You answered by turning to kiss him. "And then it will make you feel even better." Her hand had descended into your intimacy, rubbing against your clitoris and beginning to stimulate it again. You were too sensitive and your orgasm was so strong that you saw the stars at that moment. And you hadn’t finished yet.

"I can’t feel my legs Kuna." You said as you tried to get up, but you gave up right after. Your legs seemed to be made of jelly and your sex was pulsating painfully. Sukuna was beside you and stroked your back, smiling at those words. "I did a good job." Your boyfriend said, leaving you with a kiss on the shoulder and grinning. But he couldn’t get up in that moment, still buried inside you, he would never leave that place for any reason. "Mmmhh…" You tried to say something, but the tiredness was getting felt. "Yeah, let’s order some sushi and watch it on TV." Sukuna answered by caressing your back and reluctantly leaving to take the phone and order to go. "You’re the best." You said by kissing his hand and standing up slowly in turn to go to the bathroom next to your room and preparing the necessary for a shower. You’ve been stuck to the many notifications of missed messages and calls to burst out laughing. Sukuna took you for life and brought you back to bed, kissing you until you lost control again. You then heard the phone snap and turned your eyes to the camera, in the photo that captured you hugging each other in that obscene kiss. You couldn’t see any part of your body, you could just see something that left room for imagination. "What are you doing?" you asked, playing with his lip and sucking it slowly. "I send her to my study group to make them keep quiet." Your boyfriend said kissing you again. "You should send one more obscene." You answered by making him laugh and curl up over you.

"I infected you." He said whispering those words in your ear. "Maybe yes…" You answered looking straight into his eyes and smiling back, a smile full of all that you felt for him. "Honey?" Sukuna never used those affectionate names with you, he always used something that taunted you. "Yes Kuna?" You answered by taking his face in your hands and staring into his eyes. "I love you." He never said those words to you before and your heart filled with happiness. "I love you too." You replied kissing him with a flurry and holding yourself tight to him.

[lateatnewyork]

Moonflower

(Flowers part II)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Azriel x ex!reader, Rhysand x sister!reader, future Helion x reader

Warnings: angst, brotherly fluff (love u rhysie poo), swearing, elain and azriel slander (minor)

warnings & summary will be updated at every part.

Prompts: N/A

Summary: Nesta and Feyre had taken your wedding dress from Elain and handed it back to you. With the help of Rhysand, you burn it. Rhys suggests for you to go to Day Court and take some time, while he sorts things out with Azriel. What happens when a certain High Lord catches your eye?

a/n there’s going to be so much angst in this series😭 if you ever feel like killing me just know i love you guys, the names of this series are gonna be based off flowers this one is called moonflower as a homage to the night court

I had gone upto my room, not wanting to see the pitying looks of my friends.

Growing up as a High Lord’s daughter made me detached from the world, forced me to hide my emotions. Which is why, I didn’t shed a single tear until I was in the safety of my bedroom.

Shrinking down against my door, I finally allowed the thoughts to catch up.

Every single time he told me he made love to me, he really meant “I’m fucking your brother’s sister in law right under your nose,”.

I don’t even think I can call it making love anymore.

When he told me he loved me, he really meant “I love Elain, not you”.

All of a sudden all his words had double meanings.

“I’m going out,” meant “I’m going to Elain’s”.

“I already ate,” equaled “I ate at Elain’s”.

And at the very end of it all, “I have a mission” was actually “I’m going to get married to Elain,”.

Elain, Elain, Elain. What did she have that I didn’t? I had known him for centuries, been there for him through nightmares, defended him from others, hell I had given my everything to him.

And instead of returning them properly, he had broken them, trampled on my poor heart, fed my mind lies and broken my every being.

Sobs wracked my body as I hunched over myself. My hair was sticking to my face by the tears. Crying quietly, I twisted the ring off my finger, chucking it somewhere in the dark.

Hearing the soft clang of the metal landing made me sob even more. It was a beautiful ring, truly. A silver ring with diamonds encrusted on the top, 3 beautiful gems the colour of Azriel’s siphons. A blue so dark it could pass as black.

My ears were ringing, I could hear a knock on the door, but it was just some background noise compared to the noise of rushing water in my ears.

A talon of power scraped against my walls gently. Getting up, I open the door.

Rhysand stands there with my dress in his hands.

“I said I didn’t want it,” I state, stubborn as ever.

“I know that’s why I came to ask if you wanted to burn it with me,” he says hesitantly.

My eyes flick between Rhysand and the dress, a silent war forging in my violet eyes.

“Fuck it, let’s go”

My meltdown dazed mind didn’t seem to realise that Rhysand hadn’t taken me out through the main hall, but through the back entrances. Too tired to comprehend anything, I didn’t ask even when I realised it.

As if waiting for me a bonfire pit had formed.

Before we had left the room, I had grabbed a box filled with Azriel’s things that I wanted to burn.

With a flick of Rhys’ wrist the dress was positioned on the stand. A stick with fire was commissioned and he handed it to me.

“Would you like to do the honours, little star?” He says waving the stick towards me. I smile slightly at the use of the old nickname.

I grab the stick and throw it at the dress, revelling in the way it burnt.

One by one I added the items from the box.

A human polaroid of the two of us. His comfy grey shirt. All his letters. Flowers he had given me 2 days ago. A glass rose, funny really because my favourite flower isn’t a rose, it’s a moonflower. A promise ring he had got me. The prototype wedding invitation.

Rhysand watched me as I threw object after object into the endless pit of fire. Once the box was empty, I lunged the box into the fire as well.

That’s when he finally spoke up, “Little star, do you want to go visit Day Court for a while, Helion said any one from our court could visit his,”.

I nodded, the anger I had grown from the objects fading into sadness. Rhys held me close wiping my wet, tear stained cheeks. “It’ll be alright” he soothingly whispers.

I had packed my bags the night of the burning and had prepare for going to Day Court the next day.

“Rhys I can winnow myself,” I huffed as he dragged me along.

“I know, I know I just wanted to make sure you got there safe,” he sighs. Understanding, I let him take me there.

If Day Court was beautiful then they’re High Lord was gorgeous.

a/n i need sleep

taglist: @esposadomd @impossibelle @acotarfics-mharmie009 @stqrgirlies-blog @balam-sen @cumuluscranium @witchymomfrien (striked out means i couldn’t tag you)

[mmmichyyy]

🌸 gallavich fic rec list 🌸

welcome to my 2023 fic rec list! i went through my ao3 bookmarks and my tumblr tags from this year so here's some (not all, or else this post would go on forever) of my fave (new & older) one-shots, completed multi-chaps, wips & ficlets <3

make sure to check out my 2021 list & my 2022 list ! since i'm not going to include fics i've mentioned before in this year's list :)

& don't forget to check out @gallavichfanficlibrary @gallavich-fic-club @gallavichthings @thegallavault for more recs plus @galladrabbles & @gallavichmeta too ✨ let's go!

one-shots:

doesn't matter where we go by @heymacy (The boys take a road trip.)

to think that we could stay the same by teatrolley (post-breakup au, but Mickey gets out of prison, Caleb doesn't exist, and we get really into their past and Ian’s (struggling) head)

of going home by @lalazeewrites (Valiant has taken the greatest fall from grace the superhero world has witnessed in years. The Shrike is an unregistered vigilante who doesn't even ping the radar of Chicago's crime fighting scene. Ian is forcibly put on leave from his job and returns to the Gallagher house, a failure all over again. Not only does he not know what Mickey does when the world goes dark, he doesn't know that Mickey is still living southside at all. Not since the events of eight years ago.)

quiet by @babygirlmickey (In the quiet of a perceived absence of scrutiny, Mickey can be incontrovertibly tender. Or: 5 times Mickey lets his guard down, as observed by various third parties.)

all i need in this life of sin (is me and my husband) by literatii (As embarrassing as it might be, Ian is not only his husband but also his best friend, and Mickey is pretty damn okay with that. Why the fuck would he find other people to do the exact same shit with that he already does with Ian, minus the fucking, when he can just do that shit with Ian plus the fucking? It makes no sense. Or: Ian wants the two of them to have more friends. Mickey doesn’t.)

thirteen hours by @crossmydna (Ian has known for thirteen hours that he’s not crossing the border with Mickey, so he makes the most of the time he has left with him.)

queen of decatur by jaxington (“How’d you know that?” Ian asks, smelling chum in the water, the observant little fuck. “Not like your brothers are getting sent to lady prison all that often.” Mickey thumbs at his lip, trying to find a way out of this conversation. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to distract Ian just by taking of his pants, but he is trying this new thing where he actually tells Ian what’s going on in his head. “No.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It’s my mom.”)

like strings of fire by @gardenerian (mickey finds a safe and colorful way for ian to indulge himself when hypersexuality rears its ugly head.)

the needle and the burning body by squash (jesuisgourde) (Mickey had two burning torches for hands but he knew what to do with them. Ian's head was on fire and all he knew was how to run and keep running. How to find a cliff and jump off. How to make Mickey chase after him, again and again. And in a cold cell in prison, Mickey catches him.)

some fucked up romcom by godisthedice (Two years after they locked him up, Mickey told himself that he was done with Ian fucking Gallagher for good. Two years as a free man and he's marrying him for all the wrong reasons.)

when the sun goes down by @sam-loves-seb (super cute and fluffy lifeguard au!)

lava java by @stocious (He's being really unprofessional. Mickey might not even be gay. He might be hitting on a straight man through takeout cups.)

here's to hoping i'm not what kills you by @crestfallercanyon (After a confrontation gone bad, Mickey and the Gallaghers get Ian to the hospital. And look, Mickey always knew that if the Gallaghers had a will they'd find a way, but being roped into their schemes himself wasn't something he'd planned on signing on for. All the Gallaghers need to know is Mickey's helping out because he's not pure fucking evil. They don't need to know Mickey was scared shitless when Ian got knocked unconscious, Jesus, he can barely admit that to himself. Once Mickey knows Ian's not dead and not dying, he's out of there. Except he can't bring himself to leave.)

to the thawing wind by @gardenerian (Living and working in the icy chill of an endless winter, Ian and his family are assigned to work the farms to bolster food supply. They live quietly enough, following the rules, until Mickey and Mandy Milkovich (with all their secrets) are moved in across the road.)

i'll come meet you where you are by @crestfallercanyon (Mickey comes back from prison with a ring of vicious bruises around his neck and an edge to him Ian doesn't recognize. But he came back. He came back, and now it's time for Ian to meet him halfway.

closing in walls and ticking clocks by c_cups_bitch_u_wish (So, this is happening. Mickey is sitting in the corner of the bedroom on the comfiest fucking chair he’s ever sat in, and his adult self and adult Ian are about to fuck. And he’s going to watch. What's most odd is that this doesn't even feel like the weirdest thing to happen to him today.)

a spark of fire by @lingy910y (“You wanted us to finally have some time alone. You wanted to keep me safe, but you didn’t really care as long as we were together. You didn’t want it to end.” Mickey swallows a lump in his throat. “I…I don’t fuckin’ know.” “But can I, uh, ask you something else?” Ian rubs his thumbs together. “You like me, Mick. You fucking like me.”)

flip fuck? by @gallawitchxx (Mickey’s always thought that Valentine’s Day was fucking gay. But then some dramatic, ginger fuckhead had to move into the room next to his, and steal his hole, his heart, and the attention of his tumblr mutuals. Mickey decides to keep it lowkey when he asks Ian to spend the evening together: You wanna hang out on Tuesday? Ian’s response is quick and gives absolutely nothing away: Sure thing! That big-dicked idiot better remember it’s fucking Valentine’s Day.)

completed:

prelude motel by @whatthebodygraspsnot (When Mickey’s secret spot is infiltrated by an intriguing stranger, all the warning signs are there. Despite the voice in the back of his head telling him to disengage, he can’t help but bite off more than he can chew, running straight back to the spot and the stranger when a job leaves him injured. Enter: the Prelude Motel - where, for the next three days, Mickey finds himself hiding from more than just his pursuers.)

garden song (series) by @gardenerian (two gorgeous fics about ian's bipolar, about hope, healing, and tomatoes)

better by anomalously (It's been ten years since Ian's seen Mickey.)

in your love by @sgtmickeyslaughter (Mickey had been out of prison for 2 years and Ian never would have known until they ran into one another on a random night in May. Ian fights for the love they shared while Mickey fights for the life he built, as they both struggle with shame and guilt from their shared past it becomes clear that they cannot help but be drawn to what is bright and beautiful between them.)

whumptober 2023 (series) by @sam-loves-seb (21 beautiful fics of angst & hurt/comfort)

out of nowhere by @suzy-queued (Ian should have never offered to hide his father's stash of gold. Now he's stuck living on a deserted piece of land in the woods, alone, losing his sanity. Mickey wants nothing more than to disappear — from prison, from his family, from the entire world. If only he knew where to get his hands on a cool million. The Gallagher gold. Mickey wants it. Ian will do anything to protect it. Who will cave first?)

all these things i have left to say to you by @crestfallercanyon (After all this time that Ian's been missing, he leaves a tape recorder on Mickey's pillow. And on it? An hour of pure, unfiltered, Ian audio that is all, apparently, dedicated to him.)

wips:

keys to my heart by @milkovichrules (Ian finds his stable college life getting difficult when a new neighbour moves into the dorms.)

intro to quantum dating by @spoonfulstar (another college au) (one of my fave fics of all time!!)

the ink is a witness to this by @palepinkgoat (six chapters about the stories tattoos can hold and hide.)

order up by @heymacy (Ian and Mickey work together at a Chicago diner. They like to push each other's buttons - all their buttons. How long until the dam finally breaks?)

second chapters by @squidyyy23 (When Mickey’s PO assigns him a job at the local library, he’s pleasantly surprised—not that he’d ever admit it. Practically lived in the prison library, and what better way to start his new life than with a career he might actually enjoy. And when he meets the charming, clever, utterly fuckable, redheaded children’s librarian, well, shit just keeps getting better and better. Mickey’s definitely not interested in anything serious right now, but what’s the harm in a little fun?)

electric blue by @goodkwuestion (Paramedic Ian Gallagher knows true love exists. He's not going to settle until he finds it either, no matter how much his friends and family roll their eyes at him. Mickey Milkovich, on the other hand, isn't sure about all that stuff. He's an engineer with a long to-do list, and chasing rainbows isn't on it. He'll never say no to a good time and a pretty face though. When they meet, it will feel like kismet, something inevitable that neither of them can shake. Honestly though, who would want to? Falling in love can be the easiest thing in the world, especially when the whole universe is rooting for you... That's if the whole universe is rooting for you.)

ficlets:

all of @heymrspatel's drabbles, especially this one of ian being self-conscious about his body

docks scene & birthday suit gardening ficlets by @metalheadmickey

all of @lupeloto's sweet & domestic ficlets

@sam-loves-seb's meta about ian being the moon and mickey being the sun

ian's birthday ficlet & 31 ways we never meet (a.u.gust 2023 ficlets) by @callivich

airport confessions by @dynamic-power

gallavich drabbles by @whatthebodygraspsnot

all of @howlinchickhowl's a.u.gust 2023 ficlets!

(if you made it this far, i also write fics occasionally too so here's a self-promo lol)

[a-living-canvas]

could you do a forced marriage drabble please

Here we go! I hope you enjoy this :)

Pink Marble

"Aww, dear. It's just his way of showing he loves you…"

That's what people always say whenever Whumpee showed their bruises to them. The many bruises Whumper left on their body, marking them as his. Like a sweet possession.

Whumpee looked down at the ring. It's a pricey one, and very beautiful. They could have anything they want in the world, but only when Whumper wanted it for them. If they behave and Whumper was feeling generous, they got the privilege to walk outside.

But only for half an hour. Not more, not less.

"Hey."

Whumper put his hand on Whumpee's shoulder, leaning in close from behind to their ear. "What are you thinking about?"

Whumpee wet their dry lips. "...Nothing."

Whumper hummed. He walked around Whumpee and sat beside them. His arm circled around their waist and he tugged them closer to his side. Whumpee tensed up as Whumper's thumb rubbing soft circles on their hips.

"You know I don't like it when you lie…"

Whumper slapped Whumpee's thigh, feeling it burning under his palm. He squeezed it after, earning a soft whine coming from his lover. Whumper chuckled, the sound echoed through the empty walls.

"You know you are lucky, right? To be married to me…"

He buried his face on their neck, inhaling their scent. He hummed, smelling the citrus and honey…before the distinct metallic tang hit his nose. 

Whumper looked down and frowned when he saw Whumpee pressed the ring against their finger. The ring was made specially for Whumpee, with a screw connected to it that went straight through their skin.

A permanent ring. 

Blood dripped down from the couch to the carpet, staining it red. Whumper grabbed Whumpee's hand, examining it as a look of panic painted his face. He looked up at Whumpee with wide eyes.

"Stop doing this! How many times have I told you that the only person who can hurt you is me?!"

Whumpee let out a breathless chuckle as tears rolled down their cheeks. They were so tired, and Whumper wouldn't stop chasing them. He had threatened them that he would kill their family if they didn't obey.

And so Whumpee was forced to keep up the facade of a happy partner in a happy marriage. All for their family. They smiled through their tears, leaning down to rest their forehead on Whumper's shoulder.

"I-I love you…"

Whumper hummed, feeling smug all of a sudden. "I know, Whumpee…I know."

~

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @failgiao891 @jennyyy007 @valravnthefrenchie @heyyitsworld @risk606 @possumhoe @theforeverdyingperson

@electrons2006♡

[smehur]

Drarry fic recs #6

[podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry written by @lettersbyelise and read by @timothysboxers

Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

A delightful fic and a phenomenal reading! There are few things I love more than ex-rivals Harry and Draco discovering they actually enjoy each other's company, especially when it's done with such humor. The game of kill, fuck, marry was hilarious, and so was the dancing. And Draco's final birthday wish, well. 🔥 A phrase seen in many stories but rarely delivered with quite that much cheek. I'm all smiles and biting lips just thinking about it. 10/10 would read/listen again.

ready, able by @garagepaperback

“Well, even if we went through with it, it wouldn’t work. But thanks for the grand heroic rushing in. A certain element of purity is needed to break it." Malfoy licks his lips, "You’d have to be a virgin.” Harry keeps every muscle on his face particularly still, hoping it looks to Malfoy as absolutely blank as it feels to him. Half a minute passes. “No,” Malfoy, already doing a poor job of sitting normally on his chair, bends in half, nearly falling out of it. He’s laughing. “No, Potter, no. No- don’t- you’re twenty-five years old!” “And?” Harry asks, heat staining his face. - Malfoy has a problem, Harry wants to help.

Apart from being captivating, tantalizing and touching, this story is also an interesting (and, for this reader, unique) take on the fuck-or-die trope, which I'll generally read "for fun" but will only take "seriously" if it's somehow challenged and reshaped till choice reasserts itself. Like in this fic! Which, on top of everything, (spoiler alert!) ends with one of the hottest sex scenes in my HP reading so far. Truly exquisite. 👌

Savage by @marguerite26

In a post-war world that lives in fear and ignorance of werewolves, Draco Malfoy has taken every step to keep his condition hidden. When the delicate balance of his life shatters in a single moment, it is Harry Potter alone standing in his defence.

Another instance where excellent fic managed to sell me a trope I'm not a fan of: werewolves! It's a phenomenal story, with an interesting, political plot, excellent pacing, flawless characterization and steaming hot sex. What more could one hope for?

Virtuous by @heyjude19-writing

Draco is only sin inverted.

I loved this short piece down to the last word. It's so multifaceted! At face value, it's a confession of an unredeemed Draco, but is he? Is he really? Or did "fake it till you make it" work a little better than he expected? I'm fascinated by this because it touches on the question of whether a person can really change, which is, obviously, central to Drarry. Does a selfish motivation behind an act of kindness make the act less kind? I don't know the answers. But I do so enjoy fic that asks the questions!

Draco in Darkness by plumeria47

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

This story is very old and predates the canon ending of the series (thus missing out on a lot of canon Drarry content that would've made it even better). It's also a bit old-fashioned, compared to the fic I mostly read these days, and it triggered some of my technical pet peeves. Yet it hooked me within the first few paragraphs, and I grew to love it with a slow-burn passion. Draco's sudden disability is depicted in a very straight-forward, matter-of-fact, incredibly effective yet sensitive way; and his manner of coping with it is perfectly in character. Meanwhile, Harry is blind in his own way, which helps build the tension but never crosses the line of being too contrived. I had so many feels reading this. It's just beautiful, warts and all.

As always, my heartfelt thanks to the authors of these, and all other lovely stories shared within this amazing fandom, and to the readers helping spread the word. 🥰

[m-jelly]

can I request Erwin ad y/n reincarnation au. Like in Erwin's past life that takes place in Aot canon world he had a wife y/n and she was a captain in scouts too. Erwin in canon did die but y/n lived till the end ,single and with her daughter who was like the exact copy of Erwin . She found she was pregnant after his death and Erwin had written many letters for y/n with the thought that he might die one day and y/n can have something to comfort her. He had purposefully gotten y/n pregnant before that mission so that if he died y/n would have some reason to live ( it wasn't non consensual , Erwin and y/n were trying to have a child ) . So y/n lived for her daughter while serving for the scouts

Now in present timeline Erwin is a successful businessman and y/n is an attorney and owner of a law firm. Erwin meets y/n for some business purpose and when they see each other for the first time all the memories of their previous life just come back to them in a flash and they break down in each other's arms where y/n tells how hard it was to raise their daughter without him and how she was the only reason she lived. They both get married and have a twins , a girl and a boy who look just like Erwin

A family again

Erwin x fem!reader

Mentions of reincarnation, past lives, modern AU, fluff, romance, marriage, fluff, becoming parents, pregnancy.

Erwin sets up a business meeting where he arranges a meeting with your law firm. As soon as you meet, the memories flood back and the two of you restart the life you had dreamed of.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @mari-zs

Your feet were killing you in your heels, but you wanted to make a good impression with Mr Smith. It'd been a while since you wore heels, but they looked good so you wanted to try your best. You even more a nice dress as well. Normally, at the office, you had comfy things on your feet and body.

So, you sat on a chair outside the meeting room and winced at the pain in your feet. "Damn it."

"Heels bothering you?"

You kept your head down as your cheeks burned. You watched as someone with thick thighs knelt before you in a wonderful suit. "Y-Yes."

"May I?"

You presented your foot. "S-Sure."

He slipped your heel off and looked. "Mm, looks like they rubbed your foot."

You sighed and looked up at him. "The one time I wear them to impress."

He chuckled and looked up into your eyes. "You..." His beautiful blue eyes widened. He softly said your name. "Is it you?"

You felt a rush of emotions as memories stung and soothed you. Tears filled your eyes. "Erwin...I...I you..."

He smiled. "Me."

You cupped his face. "You're alive."

He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. "I am."

You sniffed. "You have both arms."

He chuckled. "Indeed I do." He released a long sigh. "You are so beautiful."

Your cheeks burned at his praise. "You're handsome."

He held your thighs as his eyes filled with love. "I'm so sorry I died before we could have our life as a family."

You smiled sadly. "Well, you made up for it."

"My letters?"

You nodded and hummed. "And our daughter."

His eyes widened. "A daughter?" He smiled. "We had a daughter?"

"She was just like you." You laughed. "So ambitious and she helped out so much. She changed so many lives. You would have been proud of her."

He squeezed your thighs. "You're incredible."

"I'm not." You let the tears roll down your cheeks. "I was so weak without you. I wanted to...I struggled. However, our daughter was the only reason I kept going. I didn't want to leave her alone. I stayed strong for her, but I am ashamed of some of the thoughts I had." You sniffed. "What a terrible mother I was."

He hushed you. "I bet you were perfect. I just know our daughter loved you and felt your love as well."

You smiled sadly. "I gave her everything and I spoiled her too." You giggled with Erwin. "I couldn't help myself, she was so cute and beautiful."

"That's wonderful." He lowered his head. "I'm sorry I left you both. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to die. I wanted to live. I failed you and I felt that strongly when I died. You were all I thought about."

You wrapped your arms around Erwin's neck and held him. "That must have been awful."

He gripped you tightly. "I love you."

You clung to him. "I love you too."

He pulled back a bit. "I know this is a new life, but I don't want to waste any time. Let's start our life and family again."

You blushed. "Erwin?"

"Marry me."

You nodded with a bright smile. "Yes!"

Erwin smiled sweetly at his twins. Both of them were lying against his chest and sleeping away as they were soothed by his warmth and beating heart. Seeing two precious lives made from him and you made his heart flutter with joy.

The wedding came around fast and Erwin made sure he had you as soon as possible. The home you got was just out of the city surrounded by nature with plenty of rooms for children. It was your forever home and the two of you filled it with love.

You always thought you would have a daughter again, but instead, you got a surprise. Your twins were perfect. Evan and Daisy were the sweetest little angels who looked just like their father and full of curiosity. Erwin was truly incredible, full of life and love.

The two of you were always running around after each other giggling away. You didn't hold back on the love and romance like you did in your first life. You both wanted to give the other everything possible. You stole many moments together and went on plenty of romantic holidays. The two of you worked less as well.

You sat on the sofa next to your husband and smiled sweetly. "You three having fun?"

He chuckled. "Nap time."

You snuggled up to Erwin. "You're a wonderful father to them."

"I'm glad I can be here for them this time."

You played with Erwin's hair. "I've told you, Erwin. It hurt not having you, but you left behind the most precious thing for me. You were always with me because I had Daisy with me. She was the part of you that you left for me. She was all your love."

Erwin welled up and looked down at his babies. "Now we have her and Evan."

You caressed Erwin's cheek. "All my love."

He leaned over and kissed you. "Together forever, my love."

You hummed a laugh. "Yes."

He blushed a bit. "I was wondering."

You giggled. "I love you so much. Yes, I think more babies would be perfect, but let's wait for these two to grow up a little more, hmm?"

He smiled. "Sounds wonderful." He kissed you again. "I love you so much."

"Shall I help you put the babies to bed so we can do some loving?"

Erwin handed you Evan. "Please."

[major-mads]

Chapter 12: A New Normal

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: interrogation time boissss!!!

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 6k

October 13, 1943: Dulag Luft: Frankfurt, Germany:

As John Egan slouched into the leather chair in his interrogator’s office, everything ached. His eyes, his head, his ribs, his back…everything. On top of all this, the Lieutenant before him was offering him a drink like he was an old friend, not a prisoner of war who’d already faced unimaginable horrors in the last few days alone. 

Not a man who lost everything he had to live for. 

John raised his glass, unflinching as his sore muscles cried in protest. “Here’s, uh, mud in your eye.”

The fact that Haussmann didn’t know the phrase brought him a sense of satisfaction. The most he could have in his situation.

“So, where shall we begin?”

Putting down his glass, Bucky’s eyes stared at the cup as he spoke bitterly. “How about I was in a town and someone shot four of the guys with me.”

“Oh my...What town?” he asked quickly, almost too quickly.

‘It’s all a tactic. Every single word,’ John reminded himself. ‘Don’t give him anything.’

“‘Russheim, something. I don’t know-”

Haussmann cut him off, a false look of concern painting his face. “Rüsselsheim. That’s tragic. I will add it to the report.”

‘All lies.’

“Your colleagues,” he continued, grabbing a pen and paper. “The ones who were killed, if you could give me their names and rank, I can pass it on to-”

It was John’s turn to interrupt, the flashes of the men’s lifeless bodies making his chest burn in anger. “I don’t know their names. We just happened to be put together. Look, I appreciate the drink and would really appreciate a thicker blanket, but as far as what you’re gonna get from me, it’s gonna be name, rank, and serial-”

“And serial number. Yours is O-399510…Yes, I already know that,” the interrogator grinned in a way that made the Major’s skin crawl. 

“I also know that you were born in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. Married?”

John’s gaze fell back to his drink, Ruth’s smiling face appearing in his mind, her infectious laugh ringing in his ears. 

‘In a perfect world, we would be.’

An unsettling grin reappeared on the Nazi’s face as he flipped through John’s folder. “From what I hear, there’s not a wife, but there is a woman. A recent development, hmm? What is her name?”

For the first time since the Major sat down across from the Lieutenant, his words got a response. Bucky’s eyes snapped to meet his, anger flaming in them for a moment before he concealed his emotions once again. He bit his tongue to keep from opening his mouth. This man had no right to even utter her name after she was ripped from him by this scum’s people.

“Ah, yes, I found it. Ruth Morgan. Nurse, or should I say, former nurse, with the…,” he checked the file. “806th Medical Air Evacuation and Transport Squadron.”

Former Nurse…With those two words, the emotions he’d tried to get control of the past few weeks threatened to consume him, and his heart sank to the depths of his gut.

 ‘It’s a tactic. He’s trying to break you down,’ John repeated. ‘Don’t listen to him.’

John shifted in his seat with barely furrowed brows and a clenched jaw, reminding himself to breathe as the pressure in his chest mounted at the fact that this man knew so much about Ruth. 

Did Hope or Frank somehow survive? 

Did they go through here?

Is she alive?

These questions ran rampant in his mind in the small office, the sickening portrait of Adolph Hitler looming over him. 

“Squadron, 418th. Group,  the 100th Bomber Group. H for heavy, headquartered at Thorpe Abbotts.”

Refusing to give a single ounce of information, Bucky stared at him blankly as the Lieutenant closed the file, a despicable smirk still plastered on his face. 

“Are you a baseball fan, Major?”

No response.

“Certainly that’s not a national secret,” he suggested, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from a desk drawer and offering one to John, who stared at it for a moment before taking one silently.

Haussmann stood and lit his cigarette. “Sorry, they are not as good as your American brands. Lucky Strike is my personal preference.”

Bucky took a drag of the cigarette and let out a sigh, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t even know if he could roll his eyes with the constant pain that surged through his right eye. Double vision had been plaguing him since he first got knocked in the face that night in the town…Rüsselsheim, as he now knew, and only worsened after his head took a few blows.

“Baseball is still a bit of a mystery to me with all the sticks and bases, running in circles. There was the big championship last week, wasn’t there?”

Tapping his cigarette ashes into the small tray on the desk, John finally broke his silence. “Yeah, World Series.”

“Ah yes, the World Series. The New York Yankees versus the St. Louis Cardinals. A rematch, yes?”

“We were up two games to one when I went down,” the Major nodded slightly.

John thought Ruth would’ve gotten a kick out of Hugh’s behavior toward him after the Cardinals beat the Yankees in game two of the series. He could see her teasing grin and hear her lighthearted giggle that never failed to make his heart jump. Her memory touched every part of his mind, and it was impossible to go through a day, an hour, a minute without thinking of her. 

“So you are a Yankees fan. Would you like to know the outcome of the World Series?”

‘I’d much rather get outta here,’ Johnny thought, but he stayed quiet, staring at the desk. 

“Was Buck Cleven a Yankees fan?”

His gaze lifted to meet the icy eyes of the Luftwaffe Lieutenant, and he had to take a steadying breath to fight against the rage coursing through him.

“No? Yes?” he smirked. “I know Ruth Morgan was not.”

The mounting pressure in Bucky’s chest became too much, threatening to explode if he didn’t release it. “And how do you know that?” he all but growled at the man.

One side of Haussman’s mouth curled into another cruel grin and he ignored John’s question, leaning over the desk to grab a newspaper, revealing a New York Times paper from the Bremen raid. “I hear Cleven was quite the flyer. I read of his exploits in the Regensburg attack.”

Everything he did was choreographed…no word or action was wasted.

“He was your friend wasn’t he? It seems we are shooting down all the good pilots…and apparently nurses, as well.”

“I wouldn’t be bragging about killing medics,” John scoffed roughly, his nostrils flaring as his voice hardened. “Pretty sure that’s a war crime.”

“You and I both know C-47s are not marked with a red cross, Major Egan.”

Silence.

“Did you know that on your Münster attack, only one of your planes returned?” Haussman held up a finger. “One.”

Although he didn’t show it, Bucky’s mind was in shambles. ‘He’s got to be lying,’ he thought. ‘There’s no way only one plane survived…but has he said anything untrue this whole time? Has he lied at all?’

“But back to you, Major Egan,” he began, inspecting his file once more. “I regret to inform you that you are, as you say, in a bit of a pickle. We know you were originally apprehended near Ostbevern…but we don’t have you on any record as a crew member on any planes from the Münster attack.”

Lies. 

“The Gestapo would say that makes you a spy.”

Johnny’s eyes rose to meet the man’s gaze as he spoke up, keeping his voice even amid the rage bubbling within him. “They would be mistaken.”

“One thing I can tell you, Major, the Gestapo is never mistaken.”

Haussmann’s bright blue eyes bored into John’s softer, greyish irises as he stared at him before taking a deep breath. “So I need verification of your group, your squadron, and your plane so that I can confirm to them that you are indeed what you say you are.”

‘What else can they take from me?’

Bucky took a drag of his cigarette, his gaze falling back to the desk as he spoke, the smoke filling the air around him. “John Egan,” he raised his brows before tapping his ashes again. “Major. O-399510.”

“Major,” the Nazi said quietly, almost sympathetically. “May I say that you’re not doing yourself any favors? The Gestapo, they are different than me. Me, I’m like you: a flier…a man of honor. And I can understand things in a way that perhaps my colleagues from the highly indoctrinated security forces might not…I’d like to talk about Buck Cleven and Ruth Morgan, John.“

The anger within the Major simmered away, leaving only sadness in its wake…all-encompassing grief that he’d been pushing down for almost a month, reverting to his old drinking habits to numb the pain. 

“But I’d like you to talk to me as well,” Haussman continued. “The number of replacement B-17s expected at Thorpe Abbotts next week, for example.”

And Bucky’s gaze drifted back up to his interrogator, he didn’t even blink. Despite his inner turmoil, he refused to let this man get anything from him. “John Egan. Major. O-399510.”

“I see,” he nodded, raising his voice to the men outside. “Wachen. Wir sind am Ende.”

A few seconds later, two guards appeared and hauled John to his feet. He withheld a groan as his bruised body was jostled toward the threshold. Just before he passed into the dark hallway, the Lieutenant called out to him one last time.

“Oh, Major Egan, about the World Series,” the Nazi began, his lips twisting into a cruel smirk. “The Yankees always end on top.”

The Yankees always end on top…

John’s eyes widened, and he felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs as the familiar words hung in the air. His own hand had written them in his final letter to Ruth just days before she went down. His mind reeled as he was thrown into his cold, dark, and flea-infested cell.

Sitting on the small stool at the foot of his wooden cot, hope surged within him. If they’d read the letter, it meant she’d been here…

“She’s alive,” Bucky whispered, a shaky grin tugging at his lips as tears burned his eyes. “Ruth’s alive.”

October 14th, 1943: Stalag Luft III: 04:00: 4 AM

Two weeks had passed since Hope, Ruth, and Frank arrived at Stalag Luft III. To Hope, those two weeks in that hell hole felt like two years, and sleep didn’t come easy for her. She spent the first few nights on high alert, her eyes watching every movement outside the hut. She was convinced they’d be moved again, and after losing her friends in Dulag Luft, she wasn’t going to let the same thing happen again. Ruth tried to reassure her that they weren’t going to be split up again, but even she was unsure of what was planned for them. She tried to stay up with hope for several nights, but sleep eventually overtook her each time and she slipped into a dreamless slumber.

After several nights without sleep, Hope grew irritated, snapping at any minor inconvenience, but she’d been forced to bite her tongue when the guards barked orders during their morning and night appells. The stern glare Frank sent her told her now was not the time to put up a fight. 

She hadn’t meant to be so short-tempered but as she’d watched Ruth and Frank sleep, she’d resented them for resting easy. Her mind spun twenty-four hours of the day, constantly on alert, continually in overdrive. Frank had joined Ruth in staying up with Hope, taking it in shifts to try and distract her from her constant worry. 

“Do you know what happened to her in Dulag Luft?” Ruth whispered to Frank one night while Hope paced up and down the hallway. 

Frank shook his head with a yawn, “She won’t tell me what happened. When I found her, Ruth, I…” Frank shook his head, “Well, she wasn’t the same Hope I used to know.” 

After Hope rejoined them, her pacing finally ceased and she sunk onto her cot, her eyes finally growing heavy. The guard's patrols seemed less frequent that night, and Ruth watched as Hope’s eyes gradually slipped closed, her body slouched against the end of their cot. Leaning against the wooden beam wasn’t the most comfortable position, but Ruth and Frank were just thankful she’d finally fallen asleep. Once her breaths evened out and she was sleeping soundly, the pair slipped into their beds. Frank fell asleep the second his head hit his straw pillows, but Ruth lay awake, staring at the wooden slats of the bunk above her.

It was no secret that Ruth Morgan was a worrier, but Hope? She was the strong one who was always there when Ruth needed her to be. But seeing her best friend so debilitated by her fears and anxieties scared her to death. It had only been two weeks and the camp was already taking a serious toll on the Americans.

With a quiet sigh, Ruth closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind, willing herself to drift off to sleep. But just as she felt herself succumb to sleep’s embrace, a sudden noise jolted her awake and she sat up in bed. It took her a moment to realize that the noise was coming from Hope’s bunk.

Ruth’s heart ached as she watched Hope toss and turn in her sleep, her brow furrowed in distress. Her chest heaved beneath the thin blankets, and her movements grew more frantic with each passing moment. 

“Hope?” Ruth whispered, reaching a tentative hand through the gap between their beds to shake her foot. When she whimpered in response, Ruth’s concern deepened, and she moved from her bed to crouch in front of Hope. “Hey, wake up,” she said a little louder, rubbing her shoulder.

No response.

Ruth shook her friend’s shoulder roughly, her worry-stricken voice filling the room. “Hope!” 

Hope’s eyes opened suddenly and she lurched forward off the end of her bunk, nearly knocking herself out on the bunk above her. 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

Hope stared back at her, her dark eyes wide and full of tears as sweat trickled down her forehead, her chest heaving against her overalls. It took her a moment to realize what was going on as Frank’s worried face appeared beside the blonde’s. Ruth reached forward, trying to brush away the hair that had fallen across Hope’s forehead, but Hope caught her wrist, squeezing it painfully. 

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, pushing herself quickly off the cot and marching towards the door of the hut, not once looking back at her friends.

Ruth’s heart sank as Hope’s words stung like a slap across her face. She watched helplessly as her friend retreated to the door. For a moment, she was frozen in shock, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“Hope, wait,” she called out.

But Hope didn’t stop. She disappeared through the doorway without a backward glance, leaving Ruth and Frank standing in stunned silence.

Frank glanced at Ruth, his brow furrowed in concern. “Are you okay?”

Ruth blinked back tears, her throat tight. She shook her head slowly, unable to find the words to express how she felt as Frank pulled her into a hug. “She didn’t mean it.”

Despite his reassuring words, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was changing between them. She had always leaned on Hope for support, finding solace in her unwavering presence, but when she tried to extend the same comfort, she was met with rejection. Their friendship was built on openness and their ability to share everything, and now that foundation was cracking beneath the pressure of life in the camp.

Stepping back, Frank cleared his throat and grabbed his jacket from the table. “I’ve gotta go after her. Stay here.”

Ruth nodded, her gaze fixed on the door through which Hope had disappeared moments before. A knot of worry tightened in her stomach as she watched Frank leave, his footsteps echoing faintly down the hallway in the quiet of the night. Alone in the dark room, she sank back onto her bunk.

How had things changed so quickly? Just days before they had been a united front, promising to get through their time in the camp together. But now, it felt like there was a growing chasm between them, widening with each passing moment.

She ran a hand through her hair, hurt, worry, and frustration simmering within her. She longed for the comfort of her friend’s presence, for the reassurance that everything would be alright. In that moment on her bed, Ruth decided she could no longer rely on others to do that for her, to reassure her, to get her through her anxiety. If Hope crumbled and their roles were reversed, would she be able to step up into that role? She didn’t know. But she did know that she’d do everything in her power to get her friend back.

Ruth sighed heavily and lay on her back, trying to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos of her thoughts. She turned toward the wall, her eyes finding a small photograph propped up on the small shelf against the wall of her bunk. Oh, how she longed to go back to when things were so much simpler, to when she and Hope were happy, to when she could smile and laugh with the man she loved, to when she still had her freedom.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she whispered the words she longed to say to him even though he couldn’t hear her. “I love you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper in the silence of the room.

Frank walked back into the room with a sigh, tossing his jacket back onto the table. “I can’t see anything, soI’ll go back out in a little bit. I don’t think she wants to be found right now, anyways.”

“Did I do something wrong?” she inquired quietly, turning to face him. 

He ran a tired hand down his face and scratched his growing stubble. “No. I-I just don’t know what to do. I’ll wait up for her, alright? You go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Now go on. I know you’re exhausted.”

Bidding him goodnight with a quiet murmur, Ruth reached out and picked up her photograph, holding it closer to her chest as she gazed at the image of her and John. Their smiles were frozen in time and the sweet memory was immortalized forever. Despite her worry for her friend, Ruth finally succumbed to exhaustion, her grip on the photo never faltering as she drifted off to sleep.

Five AM came in the blink of an eye, and Ruth begrudgingly sat up, wrapping her blanket around her body when the morning chill bit at her skin. She looked over at Hope’s bunk, expecting her to be staring up at the underside of Frank’s bunk like her nightmare never happened, but all she saw was crumpled sheets. Frank was always the first awake, sitting at the table with a cup of lukewarm ersatz coffee he got from the kriegie kitchen next door to their block. Ruth stood and found Frank’s empty bunk looked the same as Hope’s.

Bright sunlight filtered through the room’s one window, lighting up the space. Frank was surely out searching for Hope, and Ruth doubted that he got even a wink of sleep waiting up for her. With a sigh, she got herself ready and sat out on the steps of her block, watching as the camp came alive with prisoners, each starving for their breakfast. The warm days had turned into cooler ones as September faded into October and Summer faded to Fall. Soon, she feared, winter would be upon them and they would have no way to stay warm. They heard from the compound old-timers of the harsh German winters, and they sounded anything but pleasant, especially as a prisoner of war.

A man walked by her with a cup of coffee and her stomach rumbled as hunger pains shot through her abdomen. Although it had only been three weeks since they began eating less-than-nutritious meals, Ruth noticed her already large clothes nearly falling off her slimming frame. They all tried to eat anytime they could, but it still wasn’t enough, even with the Red Cross packages the received once a week. In truth, the packages were the only thing really keeping the kriegies from starving.

As she scanned the compound for any sign of her friends, Ruth’s eyes caught on two familiar figures and she let out a relieved breath. She stood to her feet and did her best to put on a smile as they approached. Hope sent her one in return, but it didn’t reach her eyes…none of her smiles did anymore. Linking her hand through Ruth’s, she squeezed it gently. Ruth was somewhat pleased to see even the faintest smile on Hope’s face, even if it was forced. She’d been so withdrawn since their arrival to the Stalag that Ruth worried she was slowly slipping away before her eyes.

The trio made their way over to the kitchen window, each collecting their modest breakfast of black bread, which according to a few of the old timers, was filled with sawdust. 

“I miss the breakfast back at base,” Frank groaned as he chewed through the tough, brown slice. He was thankful he had always had good teeth, otherwise he risked losing a few just at breakfast. 

The girls nodded in agreement, their mouths watering at the thought of powdered eggs, toast, maybe even some bacon and hot coffee that didn’t taste like total crap. Ruth still kept a vivid memory of the man by the gate when they arrived who was just skin and bone. Hope had seen a man similar in the infirmary where she was helping out and told Ruth that the man was still in good spirits, but that didn’t help the fear that grew inside her chest. 

Would she end up just like him?

Hope was thankful for a job in the infirmary working alongside a few of the camp's doctors. She’d been given a sense of purpose which had been taken from her, and despite the lack of sleep and the ache in her chest, she managed to pull herself out of bed each day for that purpose. Ruth was happy for her. Hope was born to be a nurse, it was her calling and seeing her helping people again gave them all a little hope. The back and forth between Hope’s moods worried her friends more than anything. 

Ruth found her own purpose in the camp by teaching some of her fellow POWs how to read. Many of them were just boys when the depression hit and were forced to drop out of school to work the fields to keep their families afloat. So every morning after breakfast and their morning appell, Frank walked her to the Kriegie school, nicknamed Kriegie University, and she taught a few classes throughout the day. One was a basic reading class, and the others were literature studies like the ones she taught back home. If there was one thing Stalag Luft III had an overabundance of, it was books. The south compound’s extensive library was a popular spot, and it gave Ruth the perfect material to use in her classroom.

Frank took up working in one of the camp’s relied-on gardens. The girls had encouraged him to take up a study he might have been interested in, but he seemed happy in the garden. 

“You girls know I’m better with my hands, that’s why I fly the plane,” he’d told them. 

He’d supplemented his time between the garden and playing baseball which seemed to bring back some of the old Frank. Watching him play reminded the girls of the fun-loving young man he was. The war had aged them all and they sometimes forgot that Frank wasn’t really that much older than them.

After breakfast and the 6 am appell, they went their separate ways, Hope strutting toward the infirmary and Frank dropping off Ruth at the school on the way to the garden. Her classroom wasn’t big by any means and was just bigger than their room, but it sent her back to the days before the war, before she joined the nurse corps…when she poured into young minds day after day.

Her first class of the day was British Literature and around ten men slowly filtered through the door and sat at the three tables spread throughout the room. The men in this class, unlike her basic reading ones, were college students when the war broke out. Some were drafted while others put their studies on hold and volunteered. The youngest was 19 and the oldest was 21. Remembering her years in college, Ruth’s heart ached for the boys and their sacrifice of a normal life to defend their country. 

All of them had their notebooks given by the Red Cross open and ready to go when Ruth handed out the day’s text, each one greeting her with a half-smile and good morning. 

“Good morning, everyone,” she announced, holding up the book she handed out. “Have any of you read Beowulf before?”

“Don’t forget to read pages 186 through 215 before next class!”

Once the last of Ruth’s students trickled out the door, she sat down at her small desk and graded their latest assignment. Reading paper after paper, marking correct or incorrect, circling a letter at the top of the page, time sped by. Even back home, the process of grading papers, despite how pesky and time consuming it was, always gave Ruth time to think. Sitting in her small classroom, she thought of her family, her parents,  how worried they must be. It was the first thing she’d do once they were allowed to send mail again, write a letter telling her parents she was alive. Home. It was also a topic she thought of often.

Her mind then shifted to John as it often did at random moments. Ruth wondered what he was doing. Was he fully in his element, soaring through the sky in his fort, leading his men through no matter what? Sitting in their corner of the Dickleburgh pub nursing a glass of whiskey? Singing his heart out in the Officer’s Club? Whatever he was doing, she hoped he thought of her like she did of him. The devil on her shoulder whispered that he didn’t, that he’d forgotten about her the second she went down. But the angel on the other reminded her of all the times they shared, all the memories full of love and promises for the future. He wouldn’t forget about her…she wouldn’t let him. His would be the second letter she’d send.

Hope. The nightmares, the closed-off attitude, all of it. The woman she knew and loved, her best friend, was morphing into someone she didn’t recognize. What could she do if Hope wouldn’t let her in? How could anyone help if someone doesn’t let them? Soon, her brain became a jumbled mess of memories, Beowulf, worries, and everything else.

The smell of honeysuckles in early spring, Grendel, John smiling at her atop the Muggs, A+, family dinners at the local diner, 10/12: B-, Hope’s terrified eyes from that morning. 

The hours passed in a flash, and before she knew it, Ruth stared at the bare wood of her desk, the full stack of graded papers to her right. She blinked away her thoughts and glanced at her watch, cursing under her breath as 11:55 am stared back at her. 

She was almost late to meet Frank and Hope for lunch! Ruth quickly gathered her things and left the school, treading through the ever-present mud toward the mess hut. Her eyes scanned the men around her as she walked. She caught sight of one of the guards, his bright blonde hair sticking out from the sides of his cap while he stared at her, never pulling his eyes from her figure. Ruth pretended she didn’t see him. The less attention she showed, the better. Over their two weeks in the camp, the guards hadn’t messed with them at all, but they stared…they loved to stare. 

“I was about to come looking for ya!”

Frank leaned against the mess hut with a cigarette between his fingers, blowing out a puff of smoke. The unease from the guard slowly faded away at the sight of his comforting form. He wouldn’t let anything happen to them if he was near…they both knew that.

“I had a bunch of papers to grade,” she sighed, mirroring his stance against the building and readjusting her sling. “Time…it, uh, got away from me.”

He raised a brow skeptically, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Are you sure that’s it?”

“No,” Ruth whispered brokenly.

“What is it?”

“Everything, but Hope…Frank, I-I’m worried about her.”

“Something must’ve happened at Dulag Luft when we were separated. She’s been different since then. Not that we’ll ever be the same, but-”

“I know,” she interrupted. “We need to find out. If she won’t talk to me, maybe she’ll talk to you. We have to try.”

Frank ran a tired hand down his face, his eyes filled with worry. “I’ll try.”

“I don’t know what else to-”

Spotting Hope over Ruth’s shoulder, he cleared his throat and nodded her way, the pair going silent as the woman approached.

“Everything alright?” Hope asked, falling into step beside Ruth who gave her a reassuring nod. 

“Yes, I was just telling Frank about my morning, I’ve been so busy with classes that I almost missed lunch.” 

Hope was pleased to see the way Ruth’s eyes lit up as she spoke about her teaching. She would have loved to have known her before the war, before they each had a part of themselves ripped away, but seeing her now reminded Hope that they might be able to find their old selves again one day. 

Lunch consisted of thin, runny potato soup with a few vegetables from the camp garden. Frank beamed as he pointed out his effort in helping prepare the vegetables for their meal. 

“Who knew Frank was so green fingered,” Ruth chuckled, slurping the soup from her spoon.

“Well they way he used to hug those hedges back in Norfolk,” Hope jested, “It’s a wonder ‘The Angel’ never ended up in one.”

Frank rolled his eyes dramatically at the girls' antics, pleased to see they could still laugh about something. He wasn’t sure how they kept him smiling but they always managed it. He worried of course, between Hope closing herself off from them and Ruth’s endless worry he wondered how they smiled at all. There were moments when it felt like they were back in Berkshire sitting around the mess hall telling stories from their childhoods.

“Well, I always said you should have got your pilot wings, Hope. I wouldn’t have minded you as a co-pilot.” 

Hope gave him a faint smile. Thinking of perusing a different career seemed so far away from where they were.

“She’d have given you a run for your money, Frank,” Ruth giggled again, finishing up her soup. She glanced over at Hope who just sent her a small smile again. There were moments when she saw the old Hope again rather than the closed-off shell of the woman she had become. She wasn’t sure what to do, but she could only tiptoe around on eggshells for so long before someone cracked. 

“I should be getting back to my classroom,” Ruth declared, pushing back her rickety, wooden chair and stepping back. “I’ll see you both later.” 

“Be careful, Ruth. Do you want me to walk with you?” Frank asked, half pushing his chair back but she waved him away. 

“It’s not far, Frank. I’ll be fine,” she smiled at Frank but nudged her head towards Hope, trying to prompt Frank to follow through on their earlier conversation. 

Frank nodded. 

“Bye Rue,” Hope’s quiet voice could barely be heard above the noises around them but Ruth did. She sent her friend a small smile. It felt like that’s all they did now…smile at each other. 

Ruth hoped, prayed Frank would get through to her, that she’d finally open up. That she’d get her friend back. Taking a deep breath, she pushed down her fears and prepared herself for her next class: reading basics.

October 22, 1943: Stalag Luft III: 15:00 HRS: 3 PM

Ruth walked around her classroom, her boots thudding against the bare wood floors as she glanced at the test on her student’s desks. They were required to read a passage and answer a few comprehension questions afterward, but some of them were struggling. These were the boys who had little to no education, who were never taught to read or write more than basic words. Part of the 10% of draftees the government alloted could be illiterate. 

Noah Alden stared at the sheet of paper, his squinted eyes focusing on the passage, letter after letter, word after word, sentence after sentence, but his mind couldn’t wrap around its meaning. With a defeated sigh, he dropped his pencil and lowered his face into his hands. A few classmates sent him sympathetic looks, but they soon went back to their own tests. Ruth crouched beside him, his eyes raising  to hers. 

“Whatcha stuck on?” she asked quietly.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He stared at her for a long moment, seemingly contemplating whether to tell the truth or not. He decided to be truthful “I just can’t get it.”

“The reading part? Or the questions?”

“The reading part. See this here,” Noah started, pointing to the third sentence in the paragraph. “What does this mean?”

Before Ruth could respond, the shrill sound of a siren filled the air and the men all looked at each other excitedly, their eyes widening in anticipation. Even Noah’s downtrodden expression lifted, revealing a crooked smile on his lips.

New arrivals.

She stood to her feet. “Go on,” she grins, shooing them away with her hands. “We can finish this Monday.”

Within seconds, the six thanked her and were out the door, hooting and hollering like high school boys as they ran to the gate, hoping to glimpse a familiar face. Ruth collected the papers and deposited them inside her desk. For the first time since 1942, Ruth Morgan did what she was called to do: teach.

After going back to her room, grading some assignments, and catching up on some reading, she checked her watch. 5:30 pm. Hope and Frank were usually back by then, so she decided to search for them. Ruth checked the garden and the infirmary with no luck, but she felt as if the earth fell beneath her feet when she saw a group approaching from the gate. At the front of the group was Frank, who held a unmoving Hope in his arms. 

“Frank!”

Ruth’s mind went haywire at the sight and she ran to meet them. Was she dead? What happened? As she neared them, the other men’s faces came into focus. They were instantly recognizable as men from the 100th, but her main focus was her friend. 

“What happened? Is she alright?” Ruth sputtered, coming to a stop before him and hesitantly raising a hand to Hope’s emotionless face. Dried tear tracks streaking down her cheeks were visible from where she leaned into Frank’s embrace. 

Frank just sighed, his tired eyes falling to Hope’s  figure. “Cleven’s here.” 

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[classicanalyzer]

Dragon Prince S6 Thoughts

"Sometimes the line between mercy and cruelty can be thin." Aaravos and Startouch Elves

Well holy shit, that opening really went from wholesome Viren (who is alive) hugging Terry and celebrating Aaravos’ supposed “lie” to OH GOD CLAUDIA KILLED A CHILD. God, it's really terrifying seeing Claudia give so much to save her father...it really hits home how Viren felt responsible for leading her down this route. The tragic thing is that I think Viren knows deep inside that as of now, he can't help her...but he hopes he can inspire her to turn back. Despite everything she did, Claudia's actions to save her father were all for nothing. She lost a leg and her soul (it is yet to be seen if her soul can be brought back) and yet by the time she reached home, her father died yet again...this time for good. Claudia's screams were really chilling and sad.

At least, Terry is always there for Claudia...though I'm worried about what will happen to him given Claudia's increasing mental dive into darkness and insanity. He rightfully points out how revenge is different from love and how it drove Aaravos to the deaths of God who knows.

I really love that Viren didn't choose to reveal what he did to heal Soren. It would've just caused Soren more grief and pain. That's one of the most best things Viren could have done before his sacrifice. He carries on the absolute shame (I felt chills when I heard how he obtained the last part of the spell) that he caused rather than “pass it on” so to say to Soren.

Viren’s true death feels fitting for him. All this time everyone close to him ask if he was willing to risk his life for another. Dark Magic has ruined so many lives and yet also saved so man in some cases. There is a price to be paid. But finally, he proved that he was willing to do that rather than find some other way to pay the price or back out. This time he paid the price and did a truly selfless action where nobody had to get hurt...other than him. He lived his whole life choosing what he felt was pragmatic and selfish with only a few moments of his good self showing...he chose to finally die a servant of his home. While Soren will understandably never forgive him for what he did to him and the world, he will remember him for his last act of unselfish genuine goodness and living up to his desires of atonement rather than going back. I also love how his last words are the last words spoken by Harrow to him.

"I am a servant. I am a...servant." Viren's last words

That entire ship episode is so hilarious with the meta-commentary. The Celestial Elves were a really cool sub-ect of Skywing Elves. I also love the parallels between dealing with Ice Behmeath in the present and the Magma Titan in the past. Instead of killing the beast which left people killed, they found what made it so sad and everyone lives.

Also Callum and Rayla are back together! So happy and I wished we didn't have the break-up personally but still finally.

I now understand the Soren and Corvus ship, and I approve.

I'm so happy that Amaya and Janai finally got married at last. Too bad Karim had to ruin all the vibes temporarily, thankfully, the two were able to salvage it. Amaya and Janai truly deserve the world.

The build-up to when Ezran and Corvus realizes the true plan of Karim is really chilling.

S6 really has me lowkey ship Ezran and Aanya haha. Two badass, wise, and compassionate young rulers who lost their parents...speaking off, I can't imagine seeing Ezran in S7 now that he knows his kingdom is destroyed.

Sol Regem really is responsible for the events of the show. While it is dark how he died and it's horrible how he was responsible for his soulmate's death, I can't say he didn't deserve his death at all. He was the one who laid the seeds for humanity's conflict with elves and utterly despises humanity. He literally choked and burned on his own element.

Katolis being destroyed made me sad since it was our primary setting in the human realm for 6 seasons.

The Startouch Elves gave me so many Collector vibes. Aaravos really is the Ardyn of Dragon Prince with a bit of Collector and I'm all here for it. Now all that is needed is for him to get a stylish hat and turn the sky into an eternal darkness. Also, Aaravos was really that big in his natural mortal form...which made S5's horrifying reveal of what he said make a lot of sense.

A major theme of S6 and the show is how revenge won't get you anywhere but further metaphorically drown yourself. Another major theme is love (platonically and romantically), whether familial, platonic, or romantic.

S6 really is an amazing return to form, and it felt like the quality of the first three seasons was consistent. I cannot wait for the final season of this saga. I did hear about them wanting to make three more books and I wonder how they can go from here...but I trust them to do right based on S6.