#will I look at these days in the future and say what was I thinking ? I hope so

[frogeyedape]

Important thing to notice here: hitting a child AFTER they've run into the road is not a preventative measure. It is REACTIVE.

Let's look at the scenario again, shall we? Unattended child [she says her child will never be unattended but may run unattended into the road. Ignore the straw man and make the good faith assumption that "running into the road unattended" here means "child with attendant parent moves away from parent into the road"] runs into the road: parent is by definition not in reach to prevent this. Child is pursuing some goal [chase toy, go toward friend, whatever] and only thinking about that, child is caught [while in the road, but did they notice that detail?] and hit and probably scolded. Child's pursuit of goal is interrupted by pain caused by distressed parent; child in pain picks up on parental distress but not WHY they're distressed. Child likely does not associate "be in road" with "pain," and almost definitely doesn't associate the ACTUAL danger moment [being NEXT to a road and going INTO the road] with the pain. Therefore the reactive punishment does nothing to prevent future instances of "being in the road," or of "GOING into the road."

A brief diversion: both operant and classical conditioning require repetition, and stimulus/behavior must be *very closely paired in time* in order to work. A natural consequence is much more likely to be paired with its stimulus (touch hot stove, get burned). Hitting your preverbal doesn't understand you child teaches them that the natural consequence of being NEAR YOU is pain.

Now, let's talk about child developmental psychology and a perhaps surprising fact that makes all this operant/classical conditioning argument moot: children understand what you say long before they have the skill to say what you say. Preverbal children are in fact NOT completely noncomprehending *of language,* of social skills. You can talk to your baby before they can even crawl adeptly and they won't understand yet, but your speech builds neural pathways. You can talk to your adept crawling pre-toddling baby and model How To Cross A Road Safely before they have ANY chance or ability to run into a road. You can make clear, every time you come to a road, "What do we do? We STOP, and look both ways, and if it's clear [and I'm with you] then we cross." [and I'm with you] is up to your discretion. You carry your baby across roads many many many times in your child's life before they can walk. Repetition is key, remember?

You can model How To Play Near A Road Safely every day [hold/constrain a non-walking child, have a walking preverbal child hold your hand, keep modeling STOP at every road, and tall about it!]. Kids are frightening smart, very very good little statisticians--if every time you and your child come to a road you STOP [and also look etc if the plan is to cross], the months and YEARS of repetition will make the statistic clear to your child: when approach road, STOP. When going from grass/dirt/sidewalk to road surface: STOP first.

Model the age-appropriate behavior. Speak to your kid like they understand, cuz either A) they don't yet, but they WILL, and what you say now affects what they learn or B) they DO understand part/some/all of what you say and can listen and *choose what to do*. Treat your child like an agent, capable of agentive decisions, capable of CHOICE, show them how to make safe choices, talk about it!

The single most overwhelming thing I remember from young childhood is adults/older kids assuming I didn't want or couldn't possibly utilize any kind of agency/choice in my circumstances, the sheer FRUSTRATION of being disregarded as a living thinking *choosing* creature. Giving your child agency, assuming they HAVE agency, is vital to helping them learn *how to use their agency.*

When people get pregnant, they will give up smoking, give up alcohol, give up coffee and soda, give up fondue and raw cheese, give up cold cuts and sushi, all because they have heard somewhere, from someone, that these things can be bad for the baby. They don’t know the research, haven’t looked at the studies, can’t talk about sample sizes and control groups. But their dedication to their future child’s safety is so strong, their caution is so overpowering, that they give up these things just in case. 

So it baffles me when those same people will insist on spanking their kids. 

Even when they are shown the research.

 Regardless of what the experts in the field say. 

No matter who says it. 

Or how it is said. 

People are so invested in this ability to hit their kids without judgement or consequence, that it absolutely confounds me. 

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (2)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: After the events of PART ONE, Robin goes shoe shopping; Steve's mental health is in shambles; Nancy is trying to save her relationship; you're feeling lost; and Eddie is trying to be the bigger person.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

A/N: Thank you all so so much for all the love you have been showing to part one. You all had me so motivated to write this next part for you. I never manage to get things written this quickly, it's insane. So much appreciation to you all who took the time to read and let me know how you liked it- the comments and reblogs mean so much to me! Thank you!

Please let know who you think our girl should end up with ;)

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

You didn’t ever think about a future in which you didn’t feel the way you felt about Steve. It was something that you always viewed as this absolute truth. It was unavoidable. The sun would rise and fall and you would love Steve Harrington. But now, the world feels like it’s crashed, burned and raised from the ashes. A new reality- a new future to be written. Maybe, just maybe, you would see a future for yourself without Steve. It was such a simple thought- but you couldn’t have seen it before.

While you’re coming to terms with your new reality that Eddie tore open with both hands, Steve feels the weight of the crash all around him. It’s everywhere, more specifically, you’re everywhere. He felt like he’s lost everything. In her reconciliation with Jonathan, Nancy pulled Steve aside that night and said she thought it best if they don’t hang out for awhile. He nodded, jaw tightened, but he understood. 

Eddie isn’t not talking to him, but there’s awkward tension in the apartment. They both pretend that it isn’t there but the air is thick with it. The proverbial beans have been spillt. Eddie’s in love with you, and Steve shouldn’t care about it as much as he does. Eddie goes about his days padding around the house. He’ll strum guitar and clean the kitchen and go on like nothing happened. Steve’s been avoiding him, not knowing at all what to say. There isn’t anything to say- not really. But still, the walls between them are undeniably there. 

Robin is all Steve has to confide in right now, telling her all about how he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past few weeks since the night of what they’ve been calling “the incident.” He tells her everything- his confusion in his feelings towards you, the way he misses his friendship with Nancy, his irrational harbouring resentment toward Eddie. He tells her all of it. She listens and doesn’t judge- well, maybe she does judge. But, it’s coming from a place of love! 

“What do you think?” she asks, stomping around in circles. She looks down at the new Adidas on her feet, thinking about how dirty the white sneakers are going to get almost immediately. Steve is sitting on the little bench in the shoe store with his head in his hands. “I hate them,” she complains, “I hate new shoes. I hate buying jeans. It all sucks.”

Like a parent would, Steve leans down and presses his fingertips down on the toe of the shoe. “These are too small,” he points out. He turns to the box at his side, handing her the next size up. “These will probably feel better.” She snatches the show from his hand, kicking off the pair she’s wearing. 

“Fucking Munson,” she scoffs. “New fucking shoes,” she mutters, bending over to slide the next pair on. Steve smirks to himself when he sees the relief wash over Robin’s face. It’s the undeniable look of pure comfort. “Oh,” she says shyly, “these feel really nice.” 

“What am I gonna do?” he asks, disheartened looking up at Robin. She sighs, pushing the empty box next to him on the floor so she can take its place. 

“What do you want?” she asks, “Do you actually like her?”

“I might,” he admits, “I don’t know! I haven’t thought about her that way before. I could see it, maybe.”

“I don’t think you should do anything,” Robin advises, “Just sort out all the shit in your head. You are only just beginning to let yourself get over Nancy- jumping into a mess between your best friends is not the thing to do right now. Sort yourself out- get some Vitamin D, eat a vegetable- do something besides sit in your room and sulk.” 

“I’m here now,” he tries to argue and Robin scoffs. 

“You’re here cause you ran out of excuses when you kept cancelling on me,” Robin points out. She looks at her feet one more time. She then looks to Steve with a look of absolute utter defeat. “I think I’m gonna get these.” She gets up and kicks them off. Steve watches as she puts them back in the box. “I’m not gonna wear them around Eddie though,” she says with a scoff, heading towards the register like she got the one up on him. 

Eddie remembers the first time he saw you. He’d been reflecting back on it a lot the past few weeks after everything that has happened. He’s having trouble wrapping his head around how he got from there to here. What was a innocent high school crush has blossomed into such an intense love that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The feeling is almost too big for him to carry- which is probably the reason for his outburst that night. 

It has been Eddie’s junior year, making it your sophomore year. You’d been in the drama club and occasionally rehearsal would run late- meaning Hellfire would start late since they used the Theater room as well. Usually, Drama Club rehearsed Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday- making the room available for Hellfire on Friday. However, as productions got closer to the opening night, theater kids and band geeks would end up flocking to the room for Hell Week- extra rehearsals, last minute set adjustments, all running out the clock to the big night. It would run into Fridays, pushing Hellfire back despite Eddie reserving the room. The one thing he actually did to follow the rules. 

You felt ridiculous in your costume. Your Juliet dress had you sticking out when you weren’t in the midst of the sets and reciting your lines. The long fabrics of the Renaissance inspired costume followed behind you as you darted from one side of the school to the other. You needed last minute fixes to the hem of your dress and the veil of your head crown. You only a few minutes before you were expected at rehearsal, left with no choice to run from the home ec classroom to the theater. 

Eddie and the rest of Hellfire stood begrudgingly behind the stage, too stubborn to find another location for their meeting. He swears that you ran by him in slow motion to make your cue. Like a runaway bride from his fantasy novels, it was like you were plucked from one of his fantasies and graced his world with your presence. He was enamored. You looked exactly like a princess. He didn’t realize he’d been staring until Gareth had elbowed him to snap him out of it. He knew from that moment when he looks back, he was in love with you. He rubbed his ribs where he was struck and stayed hidden backstage to watch the whole performance. 

Steve can’t even remember the first time you met. You were something that was always there, and something he’s realized now that he’s taken for granted. You remember, you remember it all. It was still so vivid to you. It was a start to your everything. 

Kindergarten was an overwhelming experience for Steve. Specifically drop-off, but he doesn’t remember now. You remember waiting with your mom and you held her hand tightly, while you waited for your teacher to escort you and your new classmates into school. You noticed Steve, across the play yard, but your head tilted in confusion that he was without a grown-up to send him off. 

You immediately shook yourself free from your moms embrace and skipped confidently over to the little boy. 

“Do you wanna be best friends?” You asked abruptly, it was all you needed. The simplicity of making friends when your six is a beautiful thing. He nodded, and you took his hand in yours so he didn’t walk in alone. The two of you were inseparable ever since. Until high school rolled around and changed everything. 

The Steve you knew was different than the Steve that ruled the halls of Hawkins High back in the day. When it was the two of you, it was like how it always was. But at school, it was like he was an entirely new person. Reinvented and repackaged, King Steve’s reign was legend. Had it not killed you a little inside, you’d have been impressed. 

Nancy offered to get lunch together with you shortly after the incident. She valued your friendship and wanted to clear the air. You felt the same. Your feelings towards Steve never hindered how highly you thought of Nancy. The two of you became friends amidst the era of King Steve, shortly before they began dating. 

“I wanted you to know that had I known,” Nancy says, stirring the milk in her coffee, “I would have never went out with Steve.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty, Nance,” you reassure her. “You liked him and he liked you back, of course you guys should have dated. I don’t resent that- I just… I don’t know.” 

“I don’t want this to affect us,” she reiterates.

“It won’t, it hasn’t- honestly,” you reply sincerely. “I never hated you. I can’t lie and say I wasn’t very jealous- because I was, still am a little maybe. It wasn’t because of you- it was just because it wasn’t me.” 

“I understand,” she comforts you. You both share a smile and you appreciate her for coordinating this sit down. It felt good to confide in her. It was something you shouldn’t have bottled up and dealt with alone. Talking with Nancy felt like taking breaths of fresh air. 

You’d walked home after lunch, declining Nancy’s offer for a ride. The cafe was close enough to your and Robin’s apartment that you could manage without getting too cold. Trudging up the front steps, you had your hood up to keep yourself warmer. It also hindered your vision so you didn’t see the figure on the front porch swing until you were right at your front door. 

“Steve?” You ask, taken aback. You didn’t expect to see him- though you supposed he’d be wanting to talk about it all eventually. You sigh, bracing yourself for the one conversation you absolutely did not want to have. 

“Hey,” he shivers, keeping his hands bunched into his jacket plackets. 

“Come on up,” you offer, unlocking your front door. He graciously accepts, darting in out of the cold as fast as possible. He had to have been waiting awhile. “Robin is at work right now, but you can wait for her,” you say, as you both make it to the top of the stairs to your third floor apartment. 

“I came to see you, actually,” he admits. 

“I was afraid of that,” you joke, and it makes you a little happy when he chuckles. You both know how hard this conversation is going to be. 

You both shrug off your warm layers and leave them in the entry way. You kick off your boots and shove your hat and gloves into the sleeve of your jacket. You try your best to tame your hair. You walk with your arms crossed and take a seat on your couch. Steve tentatively follows and sits on the opposite end. You both sit in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages. 

“How long?” He finally asks, and you can’t help but cringe. It felt so impersonal, and like a subtle attack. Like you were in the wrong for keeping something from him. He sounds hurt. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh, your face in your hands. “Probably at least since we were in like second grade, maybe.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he questions, and you feel dejected. 

“I don’t know- maybe cause you dated someone new constantly,” you accuse, flipping it back to him. You weren’t going to take the blame for this. “When we got to high school, you pursued so many girls- you were on a date every weekend! When did you expect me to say when you showed interest in literally everyone but me? Do you expect me to say I should’ve said something when you were with Nancy?” 

“No… shit, I don’t know,” he mumbles. He had no right to be upset, you resolved. “I just, I feel bad that you didn’t think you could tell me.” 

“I couldn’t risk losing you,” you admitted. “I’d much rather be heartbroken with you in my life than heartbroken without you.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and he’s not sure why he’s suddenly so quiet. “I just- fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” 

You both sit there, quietly, looking anywhere except each other. You bite the inside of your mouth nervously, you don’t know what to say. You notice he’s not saying I was so stupid. I love you, I always have. You’ve learned the hard way by now to not expect that from him. You can’t let your expectations of him dictate the future of your friendship. 

“It’s okay, you know,” you finally say across the silence. “I don’t want you to think this changes anything.” 

This changes everything! He wants to exclaim. You’re right there, closer than you’ve been in weeks. Yet you still feel so far away, so unattainable. He feels as though you’re treating him like a stranger, and he hates feeling like this. 

“I’m not in love with Nancy,” he confesses. “I thought it was what I wanted, but now I don’t know what I want.” 

“Don’t give me false hope to make me feel better, Steve,” you sigh. “That’s not fair.” 

Robin bursts through the door in a whirlwind of chaos. She’s shedding her layers as she recounts a terrible interaction she had with a customer at work. She kicks off her Adidas, not bothering to put them in the shoe rack and she lets her jacket lay on the floor for now. 

“Anyways, this guy starts yelling at me because he didn’t like Risky Business like I wrote and starred in the damn thing so I’m like ‘Sir, I didn’t make the movie’  and then he gets he gets even more pissed that won’t give him a free rental. I can’t do that! What makes him think I can just wave a magic wand a pull a perk like that out of my- oh fuck. H-hey Steve…. I didn’t know you were here.” 

He stands up abruptly, “I was just leaving.” Before either you or Robin have a chance to say anything else. He’s stumbling over putting on his shoes and falling into his jacket on the his way quickly out the door. 

“What the hell was that?” Robin asks, turning to you. 

“I have no idea.” You say earnestly. 

“He’s so fucking stupid I swear to god,” she rolls her eyes and heads past you into the kitchen. She decided to keep her commentary at that. You escape to your room so you can process what the hell just happened. 

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Steve hits his palms against his steering wheel in frustration. “SHIT!” 

He completely fucked that up. 

When you had a problem of this measure that bothered you, you’d call Steve. Or, you’d call Eddie. Neither option is one you felt was viable right now. You didn’t want to annoy Robin with it anymore than you’d had already- you’re sure she’s sick of everyone going to her. You have a bad habit of assuming you’re a burden when your anxiety spikes like this. 

“Hey, Nance. I, uh, was just calling to-“

“Steve, please- we talked about this.” 

He knew this was going to happen. But he couldn’t stop himself as he dialed her number. He knew he was supposed to stay away and give her and Jonathan space. How is he supposed to move on when he lost the one person he could call to talk about this? Steve felt Nancy understood him better than anyone- or at least at one point she did. 

She hangs up before Steve gets a chance to say anything. He drops the receiver back onto the base. He lays back on the couch and takes some slow breaths. He can’t imagine that you all ended up here. After everything you all survived, this is what’s pulling you all apart. 

Why the fuck did he call Nancy? Deep down he knows he wants to just talk to you but he just can’t right now. His brain is too congested with everything that’s come to light and it’s all such a scary, unfamiliar plane. Nancy is his familiar- it’s what he knows. He’s realizing maybe he didn’t actually pine for Nancy but instead he was yearning for that stability he once felt. He’s mourning the time for when it felt like he had absolutely everything. 

It hits him all at once- like a huge wave that knocks you out when you’re bracing yourself to jump. He wanted it all back- fucking King Steve. Not the parties and the fucking assholes. He wanted to feel that way again. He wanted how he felt when he had a girlfriend who loved him and close friends he could walk the halls with. He missed when his life felt easy and he missed how easy it feels now compared to this. He wanted his life back- it wasn’t Nancy that he wanted- not really. He wanted to feel that way again and he was mourning his youth despite the imperfections. 

He thought of you again, as he turned his body to stare at the phone. He knows he should call, and do his best to make you feel better. He needed you to understand that he understands so much more now than he did. The bigger picture is revealing itself more to him and he actually fucking gets it. Out of everything that has changed, you never did. It all feels so painfully obvious now. How could he have not seen it? 

“Sup, man,” Eddie says casually, coming home from work. Taking off his jacket reveals that his coveralls are covered in a huge grease stain. Kicking off his work boots, he doesn’t wait for Steve to reply as he heads to the bathroom to shower. “You wanna get Chinese tonight?” he calls from the other room. Steve gulps and sits up, trying to shake himself out of it. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.”  

A few minutes later, Eddie emerges from the bathroom and steam from his shower wafts out into the hallway. 

“We’re good, right?” Eddie asks. He wants to say yes. Eddie did nothing wrong and Steve deep down knows it. He knows his resentment he’s harbouring is completely unfair- but it is running down to his core. 

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Steve says, trying his best to fake it. They aren’t good. Steve doesn’t know if they’d ever be good. Eddie knows it too. He knows Steve too well to know that he isn’t actually good. Eddie doesn’t fight it.

“I’ll get over it,” Eddie said. “Well, that’s a fucking lie. But, I can tell myself I can get over it.” Steve looks at him, confused. “If you and her want to be together, if you like her back- I’ll step down.”

“Why are you even saying that?”

“Because I want her to be happy more than anything else, and if I’m not that guy- I’m just getting in the way of that,” he confesses, and Steve can hear the hurt in his friend’s voice. “If you actually want to go for it- I’m not what’s stopping you, man.” 

The phone breaks through the solemn moment the two of them share. Eddie looks to Steve and Steve shrugs before picking up the receiver. 

“Hello?” He says, and he smiles to himself as he recognizes the voice on the other end. Then, Eddie watches as his friend’s face falls again- all in a brief few seconds. “It’s for you,” he says, dropping the receiver on the table for Eddie to get. Steve disappears down the hall and seeks refuge in his room.

“Hey,” Eddie says, bringing the phone to his ear. 

“Hey, it’s me,” he hears you say. Suddenly, Steve’s reaction makes a lot of sense. 

TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt

[vaquerolvr]

so… if we have your sexuality hcs what about their types?

(and maybe how would they approach their future s/o? maybe with a letter or just straight up “i like you”)

hope you’re doing good and staying hydrated

-🍂

i tried to focus on personality rather than physical appearance so idk if it’s exactly what you wanted. sorry if it sucks, i am trapped in a car again. Free Me.

price

his type

dilf/milf enjoyer

he wants someone who’s caring but also independent

who can handle themselves when he runs off on missions for weeks at a time

how he’d ask you out

is weirdly blunt about it

sounds like he’s negotiating a business deal

(the overly formal language is to hide that he’s nervous)

gaz

his type

people who don’t take things too seriously

carefree but not childish yknow?

how he’d ask you out

smooth af

has you laughing and blushing so much that you don’t even realize you’ve agreed to anything

until you’re alone later and you’re like “wait did he mean a friend date or a Date-“

ghost

his type

not picky about appearances, focuses more on personality

someone who has their shit together because he definitely doesn’t

how he’d ask you out

doesn’t

bottles his feelings up until he dies

being serious, it would take literal years because even if you were giving him the clearest signs that you like him, he’d still gaslight himself into thinking you’re not attracted to him

it would probably take one of the guys pushing him into it and he’d be fully expecting you to reject him

soap

his type

women who look like they can kill him

most important thing for him is hygiene/self-care

not necessarily a bodybuilder,, just like someone who takes care of themselves

idk how to explain this

how he’d ask you out

just blurts it out randomly

you don’t take him seriously at first

so he gets friend-zoned like ten times before you realize he’s serious and go out with him

alejandro

his type

i hate to say it but he’s definitely one of those guys who likes to be coddled

so someone who’s caring and affectionate (and clingy, like him)

how he’d ask you out

surprisingly sweet about it

he falls hard and fast and he doesn’t want you to underestimate how much he cares about this/you

he’s a fan of big gestures

so he brings mariachi and one of those big ass bouquets to your house

rudy

his type

just,,, someone who’s not dumb

he deals with alejandro’s antics enough

he just wants someone with common sense

how he’d ask you out

i think he’s a bit old fashioned

so he spends weeks ‘courting’ you before actually making a move

similar to alejandro but he does it somewhere private so there’s no pressure (or nosy neighbors recording)

graves

his type

emotionally vulnerable people who rely on him

WHAT WHO SAID THAT

tbh i don’t think he has a ‘type’

he just likes what he likes

but if he had to pick, he prefers partners with experience

how he’d ask you out

again: doesn’t

you just wake up one day and realize you’ve been dating him for the past two years

makarov

his type

confidence

doesn’t care what you look like, having a confident demeanor is enough to catch his eye

how he’d ask you out

kidnapping someone counts as asking them out, right?

keegan

his type

alternative fashion (specifically goths)

personality wise, someone who’s not afraid to call him on his shit/speak up in general

how he’d ask you out

nothing fancy, just casually asks one day

is really nonchalant about it but nearly throws up from excitement when you say yes

nikolai

his type

he needs someone who matches his freak

and by that i mean, someone who won’t even blink if he comes home with 5 stray cats one day

so just someone who’s generally chill and laidback

how he’d ask you out

hear me out-

you spend months agonizing over whether you’re just friends or if he likes you

and when you finally ask him, he’s just “wdym do i like you? haven’t we been dating for the past four months??”

[myownwholewildworld]

Love is heartbreak

↪ a the age of adaline inspired fic

pairing: marcus acacius x ageless!f!reader. summary: kissed by the goddess juno on your day of reckoning, you are brought back to life, condemned to wander the earth for a century. until you meet the other half of your soul who offers you the life you yearn for. but will you be strong enough to accept such promise? author's note: yes, i've cheated on my other wips, I'M SORRY. but when the angst and romance call, i can only answer - i am only human afterall. hope you like this little story that was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being this long, oops! comments and reblogs appreciated. enjoy! x warnings: 18+, mdni. soulmates trope. angst, romance, smut. mild breeding kink (soz). infidelity. mention of SA (not by Marcus) and death. dual pov. reader is female and a blank slate. reader is close to 150 years old (stopped ageing in her twenties) and Marcus is in his fifties. not beta'd and very lightly proofread, apologies if you spot any mistakes lol wordcount: ~8.4k. divider by @\saradika-graphics

“I’ll do anything to stay by your side, amica mea (my beloved). I don’t care about what the future holds if it’s not with you,” Marcus’ broad hands held yours, his thumb drawing invisible circles on the back of your hands.

You hated this — how your heart twisted inside you, torn apart by the choice you had to make. Was this never-ending life not enough punishment? No, you also had to go through heartbreak — your own and Marcus’. For love, you had to.

With eyes averted, you looked down at your worn sandals. Tears teetering on the edge of your waterlines as your vision became blurry with sadness, regrets and fears washed over you like the Tiber kissing the shore goodbye.

In your hundred years wandering the ground beneath your feet, you never had to go through this. Always so careful not to feel, not to grow close to anyone, not to really live the life you wanted, and now you were in a position where it almost felt too real.

Within reach — you only had to extend your hands and hug him in a tight, soothing embrace. Only needed to accept the life that Marcus was offering. Though as much as you wanted to—you wanted it, him, so badly—you could never.

And what was worst, you couldn’t explain why. First you would see the horror in his eyes, that frightened look glittering, then incomprehension, and finally disgust. Your heart couldn’t take it.

“But I do care, Marcus. Yours is bright, your military career is about to take off. I would only hinder you, your dreams. I am no one, and—” you tried to reason with him.

But love was blind. Love was deaf. Love didn’t care about impossibilities, because love was defiant.

At least his was.

“Do you think I care about being disowned? Do you truly believe that I would choose such dreadful life over you? Over a wonderful life with the person I love most?” Marcus squeezed your hands before one of his found your chin, tilting up your face to him. “Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori (love conquers all, let us too yield to love).”

You shook your head in denial, his words ringing in your ears like chants of war. Because Marcus waged war in all aspects of life, even in love — he’d conquered your heart so fully, you’d never asked him to return it. It would forever be his to cherish, to cry over, to destroy, to hate.

Because he would need to hate you to overcome the heartbreak you were about to cause.

“You don’t have a choice here. You are to marry the lady your family has arranged for; her family’s prestige will do you good. You’re just infatuated, Marcus, it isn’t true love,” you forced yourself to let a soft laugh out, wiping your tears as you took a step back. “At least, for me, it isn’t.”

Marcus’ expression folded and your heart with him. You hated yourself for saying such a vile lie, but a necessary one. The passage of time would not affect you, always stagnant in your early twenties after a fateful day when Juno decided to save your life from certain death. The Goddess of love and marriage was also one known for Her eternal youthfulness — one She would only share with those who had been wronged. And you had been so wronged in your mortal life.

And here you were, so close to committing the same mistake all over again. But you knew better this time — not because you didn’t trust Marcus, but because Fate was capricious. It didn’t matter if Juno was watching over you.

“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. This is true love, lux mihi (my light), one that would live through eternity,” Marcus muttered breathlessly, reaching for you again, looking for that unbreakable connection you both strongly shared.

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus,” you retorted, forcing your tone to sound mocking.

Another step back with an unmovable expression and you saw realisation dawning on him. Slowly like a river widening its meanders, steady like the constant flow of water. Relentless you were, steadfast in your resolution.

“Ave atque vale (hail and farewell), Acacius,” were your last words to him.

35 years later...

“Father, may I marry her?”

Marcus gazed down the dining table, eyeing his son with consideration. He knew what it felt like, how true love messed up your head to the point of madness. He had felt that way only once in his life, and it wasn’t for the woman sitting beside him.

As cruel as it sounded, Marcus never loved his wife, because his heart belonged to someone else — the now hazy memory of a woman who always lingered on the edges of his mind. A cruel reminder of how feeble and fleeting love was, how love turned into heartbreak with just a few words.

“At least, for me, it isn’t.”

That sentence alone had broken him, his ability to feel some sort of romantic connection died that very same day. At night it would haunt him, filling his dreams with nightmares. The same scene playing over and over in his mind, his heart cracking even more every time those words would hit him.

He’d waited for weeks, months. A year it took him to realise you truly were not coming back, that you meant it. He’d only been a plaything for you, a toy you discarded once things got too real. And at that point he surrendered to the pressure his family put on him. Marcus had followed through with the arranged marriage in the end, despite the agony and the empty hole in his chest.

And now his son was following in his footsteps. His heir looked so much like him, like a reflection of the past staring back at him. It pained him — he saw himself in Magnus, almost as if the roles had reversed and he was his own father thirty-five years ago. Pleading, asking to marry the love of his life even though his hand had already been promised in holy matrimony to another.

His wife, Prisca, waved one of her hands with disdain, the spoon clattering on the porcelain plate.

“Nonsense, Magnus,” she tutted at their son. “We’ve already been through this. You will marry Verina. You’d put us in a very compromised position with Gellius if you don’t.”

“But—”

“Quit your whining and man up, my son. Gellius is the Emperor’s best counsellor. It will bring our family great reputation,” Prisca reasoned, tone poisoned with greed. “And riches.”

“Father?” Magnus’ eyes shot to his, pleading him to intervene.

Marcus sensed Prisca stiffening besides him, gripping the arms of the chair like a vice. He didn’t look in her direction but knew how her orbs distilled venom. She would never understand what their son was talking about, but he did. Too damn right.

“I would like to meet her before giving you my blessing,” he spoke calmly, lacing his hands together on top of the wooden table.

Magnus’ eyes sparked up, a hopeful smile curling his mouth.

“Of course, of course! She’s waiting right outside,” and then his son hurried out of the room.

Prisca stood up, the screeching noise of the chair’s legs irritating Marcus.

“Like father, like son,” she muttered maliciously before disappearing too.

In this moment of silent respite, Marcus pinched the bridge of his hooked nose. The patience he had to muster was titanic. His life had been nothing but heartache and war, his son being the only reason he stood by his wife’s side in public. He’d tired of the pantomime, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

He would meet the woman who had stolen Magnus’ heart, just to make sure there was no deception from her part. Marcus wouldn’t wish for his son to go through the same heartbreak as him. If everything was at it should, then he wouldn’t oppose.

“Father,” Magnus called, and Marcus removed the hand from his exhausted, battle-scarred face.

His heart literally stopped.

A warm smile softened your expression when Magnus asked you to join his family in the dining hall. You had been sitting patiently in a small waiting room, wondering if this was right.

The first time you had laid eyes on Magnus a week ago, your heart jolted, and your mind went blank. He reminded you so much of your one and only true love, the one you ditched thirty-five years ago because you were too afraid to embrace the beautiful life he had offered you. The one you still felt in your heart, dormant yet very present in your everyday life.

Perhaps it was wrong of you to encourage this situation, whatever this was. When Magnus had asked you that morning to join his family for supper, he had caught you off guard, so you found yourself agreeing to it.

Deep down you knew why you hadn’t disappeared yet: you wanted to live this moment one more time. Wanted to remember how it felt to be loved so fiercely by Marcus, a yearning you’d been craving for over three decades. Only this man wasn’t Marcus, only someone who was his spitting image.

One dinner, a few hours more of playing pretend, and then you’d vanish again. Leave Rome behind after such brief visit before someone recognised you. You couldn’t afford to give any explanations, so you’d only visit this place once every decade.

You walked behind Magnus, head slightly bowed and hands laced in front of you. Magnus’ broad body blocked your vision, but soon enough he stepped aside to introduce you.

You curtsied, eyes averted, fixed on the marble slabs.

Before you straightened your back and introduced yourself, the man across the room spoke your name — your real birthname.

Inevitably, your heart sank to your belly with panic and your eyes quickly drifted up to meet the darkened ones you once had allowed yourself to swim in.

Marcus. Your Marcus.

Your heart raced in your chest and filled with pure joy. You couldn’t stop the smile that had started curling your lips nor the glassiness of your eyes.

Your one and true love was staring back at you with widened, tired eyes. He had gotten up off his chair and was striding towards you before he suddenly halted a couple of meters away from you with confusion painting his handsome features. Ones that had not remained impassible to the passage of time and war, but ones that you daydreamed about every single day without fail.

So within reach — you would only need to close the distance between you two and hug him, hug him till dawn and never let go. Oh, how much you missed him, how much you still loved him. With your whole heart, the one that ached and wept with regret in your chest right now.

Would he love you back? Did you break the love you shared past the point of mending?

“What? Her name is Aurora, father,” Magnus chuckled nervously, his eyes dancing between the two of you, puzzled. “This is the woman who has stolen my heart. I would like to marry the love of my life with your blessing.”

Your eyes flew from Marcus to Magnus at the revelation, bewildered. Marriage? Was this what it was all about, the purpose of his invitation to meet his family? Marcus’ son wanted to marry you?

You had not seen that coming, as it wasn’t your intention at all. You had only wanted to live this fleeting fantasy of yours for a few days, but there wasn’t love. Not like the one you felt for Marcus, that could never compare.

“Your name is Aurora?” Marcus’ question forced you to look in his direction, your heart twisting maddingly inside you. You nodded with hesitation, “I thought you were…” Marcus pronounced your real name again, the sinking pit of your stomach churning.

“That was my mother,” you quickly came up with a lie. You could never tell him the truth.

“Your mother,” he repeated slowly, shock and pain transforming his beautiful face. “I knew your mother.”

“What? Really?” Magnus intervened with a laugh, palming his father’s shoulder. “That’s such a coincidence!”

You looked at both of them, but your eyes inevitably lingered on Marcus’ darkened ones. Would he believe your lie? Again?

“The resemblance with her is… uncanny. You look so much like her, Aurora,” Marcus rasped, taking a step back and steeling his posture with determination.

He didn’t need to speak for you knew his hurt. Because the same memories that were flooding his mind, had been drowning you for decades.

The atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken truths, your face burning — you loathed yourself for the pain you had caused him. Pain that still contorted his expression every time his eyes flicked to yours.

Would he ever forgive you? Would he know that you lied so many years ago? That you truly and irremediably loved him? That you would always do?

You bowed down your head, mainly to conceal the unspent tears brimming on your waterlines.

“So I have been told, General,” you muttered softly as Magnus’ hand rested easily on the small of your back, his lips brushing your temple gently.

“I know this may seem sudden, father, but I know that Aurora is the one,” Magnus confessed shyly, pulling your body towards him in a warm half-embrace.

Never in your life had you wished yourself to disappear so badly. Marcus’ sight burnt through you and you couldn’t help but reciprocate him. The sadness—no, the heartbreak—in them was like a dagger through your heart, and you wondered if the decision you made so many years ago had been the right one.

By the looks of it, he had done well for himself, just as you had imagined he would. The villa was beautiful, sumptuous even. It spoke of his status in the Empire, how highly rewarded he had been for his enterprise. You assumed that Marcus had married eventually after you left, and you only hoped he’d married for love.

“I see,” Marcus murmured in reply to his son, walking back to his chair. “Let’s eat first. Prisca, my wife, won’t be joining us. She had to excuse herself because she wasn’t feeling well. Please forgive her absence.”

Prisca. So he hadn’t married for love, his family had won and forced him into an arranged marriage after all. Your heart cried for him, for the injustice you had showered upon him with your departure. Perhaps he ended up loving her so his life wouldn’t be as miserable.

That last thought stung, the dagger further twisting in your heart. You wanted his happiness, but selfishly you hoped Marcus still loved you. Undeserving of such love you were, that was clear to you, but you still hoped anyway.

“Of course, Dominus,” you hushed as Magnus guided you to an empty chair.

The food served was delicious, but the silence looming over the table tinged the atmosphere uncomfortable. Magnus did a remarkable effort to keep the conversation going, but Marcus’ succinct replies didn’t leave much room for chatter. And when Magnus pushed again about the marriage proposal—to you dismay—Marcus said that it could discussed tomorrow over breakfast.

Even though the man in front of you had aged, you still saw him as he was thirty-five years ago. He had a scar on his upper cheek and across the bridge of his aquiline nose, crows feet kissing the corners of his brown eyes, his thick curls were greying, and his demeanour was more stoic, but he was still your Marcus.

The only difference though was his lack of… life. His eyes didn’t sparkle anymore, they were tinted with darkness and sorrow. Had war changed him? Had you changed him?

Your throat collapsed on itself, tightening to the point of suffocation. Just in time, you reined in the tears as the last maid removed the plate in front of you.

“I should be going,” you announced, pushing back the chair to stand up.

Marcus sprung to his feet before his son did. And when he realised his promptness, he cleared his throat but didn’t speak.

“It’s late,” Magnus said, standing up to be by your side, throwing a confused glance to his father. “Could she stay the night, father, please?”

Marcus nodded.

“I will ask one of the servants to prepare one of the empty chambers,” Marcus conceded, walking around the table to meet his son.

“Oh,” Magnus sighed, and you knew he’d hoped to share a bed with you tonight.

Your face burnt once more with shame when Marcus’ eyes looked for yours. However, you didn’t meet his gaze, scared of what you would find in it.

“Thank you, General, you are most generous,” you husked in a low voice.

“I will show you around the villa in the meantime, amica mea,” Magnus said, his hand quick to rest on the back of your waist.

You subtly flinched at his endearment. That was what his father always called you. It felt wrong when he said it now, completely out of place — it didn’t at first, when you looked at him and imagined he was Marcus instead. But with the love of your life standing firm in front of you, it sounded so vile.

This fantasy of yours was a dangerous game, one you didn’t want to play. Not if it meant hurting Marcus again, because you could see the way he studied you. How his pupils dilated with anger every time his son would seek your touch. It was killing him, and you in the process. When everyone went to sleep, you would leave in the middle of the night, as the shadow you were condemned to be.

Magnus urged you to turn around and walk beside him, when you heard Marcus gasp.

“Your birthmark,” his words stopped you right in your tracks.

When Juno touched you to bring you back to life over a century ago, Her caress left a mark on the back of your left shoulder. The shape resembled that of a peacock, the loyal animal known to accompany the Goddess.

“What about it?” Magnus intervened, confused by the interruption.

Slowly you looked over your shoulder to glance at Marcus. His eyes were a window to his restless, half soul, desperate and blown — he knew. He searched your face for a crack, a way in, but your expression didn’t tumble.

You wished you could veer around and throw yourself in his arms, kiss him and apologise, ask him to take you back. But you just couldn’t. Love was heartbreak, and it would have to remain that way if you didn’t want to hurt Marcus even more than what you already had.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, jaw tight with a tic on the muscle.

Marcus stirred in bed, unable to get any sleep.

Your face haunted him brighter than ever — every time his eyes shut, your sorry expression would gnaw at the confines of his mind. Seeing you right in front of him after so many years, all curled up to his son’s side, drove him mad.

At first, he thought himself crazy. You looked exactly as you did thirty-five years ago — not even a wrinkle kissed your skin, not a greying hair anywhere to be seen in your plaited hair. So when you explained you were the daughter of the woman who broke his heart, he had believed you.

That was until he saw the birthmark on your shoulder. The unmistakable shape he had joked about in the past, telling you that you had been kissed by Juno Herself at birth. It was impossible that you had inherited such a peculiar mark.

But it was even more impossible that you had remained as youthful as you were, as if not a single day had passed. How was that even possible? Some people were gifted with slow ageing, he had seen some, but to remain exactly the same? No, there was something else lurking, an explanation he could not grasp because it was too surreal, too unfathomable for a mortal.

Marcus needed answers. His mind was a tangled mess, this new discovery shining a different light on the conversation that destroyed him over three decades ago. Did your words have a meaning he had not been able to see before?

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus.”

What had you truly meant by that? Did you understand what eternity really was in a level he couldn’t even start to comprehend?

Heart pounding, he quietly removed the covers and sat on the bed. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Prisca was sound asleep. Not that she would miss him anyway.

In darkness, Marcus palmed around until he found his toga and quickly changed to then walk out of his bedchamber with a clear destination in mind.

He trudged along the cold corridors of his villa until he found the door to the room you were sleeping in. For a second, he doubted, thinking he was crazy for the implausible reason taking form in his mind. But if it wasn’t that—that you were, somehow, ageless—he still needed to know why. Why hadn’t you aged? Why leave him? Why not tell him the truth?

As his shaky hand lifted and curled to knock on the wooden plank, the door swung open.

You appeared under the doorframe with a wild expression and widened eyes, obviously in a hurry to leave. Again.

“Marcus,” you gasped, one hand flying to your chest in surprise as your beautiful eyes met his.

He froze in place, all the words he had planned to say stuck to the back of his throat, forming a lump that would not let him speak. Your beauty was dazzling, but it was the buried love he harboured for you what stopped him from talking as it resurfaced.

His memory of you had not faded, able to remember every single feature of your face regardless the passage of time. Everything about you was engraved in his mind, but he had almost forgotten how sweet you smelt. Roses, with an earthy hint of grass.

As your scent numbed his mind, Marcus finally found his dry tongue.

“Don’t leave, please. Don’t leave again,” he begged in a hoarse whisper, his eyes diving in yours.

You looked up at him and he felt himself under a spell. The same one you had him under years ago, when the heart was shattered and the mind bleak. Because even when you waved him goodbye, he still loved you. Never stopped, was never able to hate you for what you did, what you said.

“Can we talk?” he pushed before realising your eyes were glassy with sadness. “I know your name is not Aurora. I know it’s you.”

Your bottom lip trembled as a single tear fell from the cliff of your lashes. Moved by his own ghost of the past, Marcus reached for your cheek with his palm, the thumb brushing away the tears that followed the first one.

You let go of a deep sigh, kissed the palm of his hand and nodded. His heart was beating so loud, so fast, he almost missed your words.

“I owe you an explanation, Marcus,” you finally spoke, a broken sob almost tearing his resolution.

As you stepped aside, Marcus came into the room you were so eager to leave behind. Your heartbeat had spiked the moment you saw him and hadn’t slowed down since then. Perhaps you didn’t die of heartbreak but could die of a heart attack.

For decades you had been running until you found him. Until Marcus made you believe you could have everything he promised. It had been the first time you had actually considered growing roots. But the thought of not being able to grow old, to see the love of your life wither away while you remained sane, was paralysing. You had panicked — too scared to accept the love of a man who would give up everything for you, too frightened to trust someone again.

But was Marcus not worthy of your trust? He demonstrated repeatedly how he would always protect you, always cherish you. Not only with words, but with actions too. He had been so considerate, so loving, for a moment in the past you thought it a ruse. How could someone be so damn perfect and still be real?

Your heart clenched in pain, seeing him latch the door behind him and turn around to face you. The look of confusion, of sorrow, ate at your conscience. Under the candlelight, his torn features stuck out, time unforgiving. He was still gorgeous, would always be in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that slipped out before the quivering of your bottom lip let out a sob. “I’m so sorry, Marcus. I didn’t know Magnus was your son, otherwise I would have never—” you shook your head, taming your cries. “I should have known. He looks so much like you. When I first saw him, I thought it was you. That somehow you had been able to still time and be with me.”

You sobbed a pitiful laugh, unable to look him in the eye. It was shameful having to admit something like this — that you had chased after a boy because he reminded you of someone you loved. But despite your immortality, you were still capable of human mistakes.

“So you didn’t know he was my son?” Marcus asked quietly. You could see the inner workings of his mind ruminating as you shook your head no. “Do you love him? Were you really going to marry him?”

The questions caught you off guard. Although at some point you were expecting them, you didn’t think it would be this early in conversation. It might be for the better if it got out of the way as soon as possible, so you could explain yourself.

The first cut would be the deepest, although the rest would still hurt.

“I love the idea of him,” you emphasized, ashamed of yourself for giving in to such fantasy. “I thought I could love him the way I did you, that he could be a vessel of my love for you. That I could, for a few days, remember how it felt— how you felt. That I could have you one more time,” you paused and sighed, intertwining your hands together to twist them nervously. “I only met him a week ago, marriage did not cross my mind at all. I was going to leave once—”

“Once it got too serious,” he finished for you.

Marcus went quiet again, his eyes transfixed on you. You wished Juno blessed you with the ability to read minds, to know what he was thinking right this moment. Did he hate you for what you just revealed? Did he think you were sick for trying to live out a fleeting dream? Would he forgive you for such despicable behaviour?

“Do you still love me?” his gravelly voice was so low, for a moment you thought you had imagined it.

But the doubt, the fresh hurt in his wounded gaze, told you otherwise.

You gaped for air, your lungs strained with sorrow. You should fib, stand by your initial lie, tell him you didn’t. But what had that gotten you the first time around except for a life of misery and loneliness? What had that gotten him?

“I do. I do love you, Marcus,” you whispered, out of breath due to the pounding of your heart. “Couldn’t be any other way. You’re the other half of my soul that I’ve been missing for so long.”

Time stilled as you looked Marcus dead in the eyes. You were not expecting anything out of your raw confession, because the time for those had passed. It was what you should have said thirty-five years ago, not now. You were too late to mend the love that had slipped through the cracks of time.

“Then that’s all that matters,” he finally broke the silence, his voice laced with emotion.

The admission shook you. Could this be true, really happening? Did he still love you after all this time?

In a couple of strides, you found yourself in his arms, the way it should have been ages ago. His forearms wrapped around you like a warm blanket as his head bowed down to taste your lips.

You kissed him back, first sweetly, then fiercely. You kissed him with all the unexpressed love you held in your heart, with the passion your true love deserved. His tongue was as sweet as you remembered, as soothing as your memory recalled. A dance ensued, his tongue reading a love letter to yours.

Your hands, which had been resting on his chest, drifted up to cradle his face — his moustache and stubble pickling the skin of your palms. Marcus untied his mouth from yours to kiss your tears goodbye, then pressed a peck on your forehead. His heart was beating as loud as yours, in unison like true soulmates.

“I’ve missed you. I never stopped thinking about you, lux mihi,” he confessed under his breath. “Life was never the same after you left.”

His admission made your heart flutter even further, and you couldn’t help but let your hands roam his back. Your fingers played with the knot holding the toga in place, his seeping warmth beckoning.

“I need you, Marcus. Make love to me,” you pleaded, leaving a love trail of kisses on his neck.

Marcus’ chest rumbled at your plea, his lips hunting down yours in a heartbeat. His hands were quick with your clothing, worshipping the curves of your body as it was revealed to him. You did the same with his toga, until you were both bare, standing in front of each other.

You saw his eyes lingering on every nook and cranny of your skin before they found yours. A thunder of connection ran through you, of yearning. On your tiptoes, you kissed him again, pressing your breasts onto his chest while your fingertips traced the map of his back.

You didn’t expect all the bumps and grooves you found on his skin; battle scars dotted around everywhere. Some thick and protuberant, some thin and soft. Marcus keened at your touch, silently letting you know that some of them were too sensitive to be caressed.

How much hurt his body and heart had endured, a life dedicated to war and duty. Your heart cried for him, for not being able to be by his side when he needed you most. Had you taken up his offer, had he run away from responsibility with you, his skin would tell a different story.

But the past couldn’t be changed, only the present was malleable enough to shape a new future.

Slowly he pushed you towards the bed, his hands resting on either side of your waist while his thumb drew lazy circles on your bristled skin. Raking your fingers through his silver curls, you leaned back on the mattress, his warm body blanketing yours.

His hands found the apex of your breasts, soft fingers rubbing your taut nipples as your head tilted back. Marcus licked the salt of your exposed neck, finding your pulse point. He kissed the spot and lingered, your vein pulsing against his lips as one of his hands discovered the slick your thighs harboured for him.

The feathery caress of his ring finger outlining your seam turned you into a whimpering mess. His pad stroked your nub, a slight flick followed before it slid down your slit and found your weeping hole. He circled it a few times, taunting you effortlessly, before returning to your clit.

You heaved, lips pursed so your moans would stay contained. In the dead of the night, you worried this show of love would seep through the walls. But not even the thought of his marriage, the thought of Magnus lying in bed a few rooms over, could stop you from joining your bodies together the way the Gods intended.

Marcus’ mouth travelled down the column of your neck, kissing the center of your clavicle before he went further down. Your unattended nipple was soon enough smothered by the wetness between his lips, and you fisted his hair in response, gently tugging at it.

“Marcus,” you moaned, eyes shut. Rejoiced.

One nipple drowned in his spit, the other pinched between his fingers, and his ring finger pressing tight circles on your thudding clit had you fighting to remain silent. But the moment the hand between your hands moved down and his digit teased your walls apart as it sank in your slick warmth, you couldn’t stop the muffled yet loud moan.

“Sing for me, meum corculum (my little heart),” Marcus husked. The gentle pumping of his finger in your wet heat had you quietly howling a few seconds later. “That’s it.”

Your felt your walls contract, pulse around his finger, holding onto him for dear life. Feeling your need as his own, Marcus dunked his middle finger in your pussy too, stretching you while his thumb stroked your clit. The combination of it all made you clench around him, almost begging for release.

“Let go for me,” Marcus asked between licks, and you couldn’t resist his prayer.

The coil that had been tightening inside you finally snapped, releasing a wave that coursed through your quaking body like a tumultuous sea. Your back slightly arched as your thighs trembled around his forearm, chest rising with a dire need for oxygen.

Marcus chuckled softly, setting your nipple free as he searched for your mouth again. He devoured you as you came down from your high, his erect cock gently resting on your mound. The weight of it on your sensitive skin felt like it belonged. The anticipation of welcoming him inside you made you gush.

“Let me drink you, kiss you, savour you,” he pressed a kiss on your mouth after each pause.

Your skin flushed; the proposition was somewhat indecent. It was lewd, frowned upon, and you were tethered to the chains of social decency. But there was nothing decent about infidelity, after all.

“Please, mea vita (my life). I can make you reach for the moon and the stars in the ceiling above if you let me, make you touch them,” he promised.

You shyly nodded, and his boyish grin grew wider, his lips tensing. So contagious, you smiled back as he came off you and moved your body until your butt was on the edge of the mattress.

He scooted you over towards him until the back of your knees were resting on his shoulders — leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. His eyes lingered on your leaking dampness, his dilated pupils tracing the outline of your seam. The intensity of it all, the deep connection, made your thighs press together against his neck, wanting to hide your core from him.

You had nothing to be shy of, as Marcus had already seen you bare before. Sex with him had always been ardent, fervent — the heat of passion always got the best of you both, a certain urgency to consummate your love. But now? Now was different. There was no rush in his movements, in how his thumbs pried your pussy lips open, in how his warm lips brushed the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. His calm confidence in taking you as he had promised was new to you, who never had all the time in the world. But right now, you did. For Marcus, you did. Always would.

Your lashes fluttered, kissing the apples of your cheeks the moment the languid strokes of his tongue met your swollen flaps. He kissed one gently, then the other, before the wet muscle lapped from your gushing hole up to your clit. So venerating were his licks, your limbs relaxed at the intimate kiss.

“You taste like ambrosia, lux mihi. The best relish I have ever been graced with,” his hot breath collided with the cold skin on your slit, your body trembling in response.

“Marcus, please,” you begged, although you were not sure why, or what you were asking of him.

He didn’t leave you waiting again. His fingers sank in the flesh of your thighs while his tongue dived inside your slick furrow. So dextrous were his charges, you couldn’t help but mewl like a starved kitten in a back alley asking for leftovers. First, he flicked your excited bundle of nerves, and then he suckled on it, his jaw working you through the climb to another orgasm. The buildup was intense, but it became feverish the moment his finger joined the action — it slid easily inside, curled to caress the precise spongy spot of your arousal.

Unaware of your own actions, one of your hands slithered down your belly until you fisted his curls — pushing him towards the centre of your heat, not away from it. He hadn’t lied — the stars appeared behind your eyes, bright like the future you wished you had with him. A sea of constellations, all imploding at once in an amazing rain of stars that blinded you as you came crashing down from the skies.

You heaved and wailed his name in ecstasy, your entire body quivering with the strength of a thousand suns. Your entrance clenched around his finger as you held your breasts, your thumbs ghosting the taut buttons. You leaked your pleasure on his mouth, and he drank unashamedly, grateful of your offering.

A sweet kiss on your mound before he towered over you, and you could only look at him in awe with raw, true love. When his battered body blanketed yours, you draped your arms around his waist, hands lightly resting on his lower back. The knowing smirk on his lips spoke of a muted “I told you so.”

“I love you,” he whispered instead.

Your heart swooned and healed and cried and exploded. All at once. He hadn’t said those exact words yet, but they were veiled in every sentence, every action he had said or done tonight. Deep inside you were eternally grateful that he hadn’t grown to hate you, that his love for you remained intact despite heartache, circumstances and time.

Unbeknownst to you, tears welled up, ones that Marcus drank too. As he did, your palms stroked his ribs, careful to avoid the scars you had come to learn were too delicate. Eager, one slid off his skin until your fingers wrapped around his throbbing manhood. Eyes down, you saw the pearly bead of pre-cum commending you to butter it on his flushed head. With your thumb you caressed the tip, and Marcus’ lips parted in need — an invitation you quickly accepted, dunking your tongue in his mouth.

A few pumps had him groaning and soon enough you were guiding him to the pocket of heat between your thighs. His cockhead kissed your gushing entrance the same way his lips did — knowing, denuded, possessing. And slowly he made his way in, parting your flesh like a new stream disturbing the earth beneath. The burning sting was most welcomed, blossoming into a fullness you had craved for decades.

“I’m home,” Marcus rasped when he was fully seated in your cunt.

Your throat clamped a little, emotion overtaking your senses the same way his erection did.

“Welcome home, dilectus (beloved),” you muttered with a loving smile and teary eyes.

You melted into a slow kiss as Marcus rocked his hips, rutting into you almost lethargically, wanting the moment to last. You let him set the pace, the drag of his cock in your pussy a delight that had you reaching for the stars again and your inner walls squeezing him tight. The sweet rhythm of his swaying tightened the slick, hot coil that pooled low in your belly, and the moment Marcus gained momentum, you followed.

Needily he started fucking into you with precision, chasing both of your highs. His dick pulsed inside you, your heartbeat instinctually adapting to his in a second. Both so close to the sky above, gasping for air now, you rocked underneath him to amplify such pleasure.

“Marcus,” you whimpered, your hands now cradling his face. You lost yourself in his eyes, blown and loving. “Please, inside,” was everything you murmured.

Even after your petition, the snap of his hips against yours didn’t falter. Instead, the pace increased as his wild orbs studied your blissed out expression.

“Do you mean it?” You nodded effusively. “Do you want your belly round with my child?”

You didn’t even know if it was possible — yes, you looked young but were closer to a hundred and fifty years on this earth than to the day you were born. The fertility of your womb was one you never dared to test in your immortal life, but the thought of having such a memory—someone—to remember him by when the days grew cold and the nights dark was overpowering reality.

“Yes, I do,” you reassured him, pecking his lips softly.

His head fell, his face resting on the crook of your neck, while he made love to you. His moves stuttered, announcing his climax, and your pussy hugged him tight in a natural response. The moment the first ropes hit your cervix, you came undone too. As Marcus filled you with his warm spent, you creamed around his beating girth, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your back arched and your nipples kissed his chest.

It took both of you a few minutes to come down, for the haze of lovemaking to slowly dissolve in the musky air. Marcus hungered for your lips and he hunted them down with eagerness. Your bodies finally untied, his cock leaving you empty yet satisfied.

You hoped—prayed—his seed would take root in your womb. Even if it was impossible, the sliver of a miraculous possibility gave you a resemblance of hope. So you pressed your thighs together, greedy of his gift.

Marcus rolled off you, falling onto his tummy besides you. Quickly you laid on your side, your fingertips tracing the lines of his skin again. A feathery touch to alleviate the harshness of life. He unburied his face from the pillow and turned to look at you.

His smile was instant, and so was yours.

For an hour no words were spoken at all, no sleep was achieved either. You both remained silent, staring at each other, soaking up the love that flooded the chamber.

Replacing your fingers with your lips, you kissed the scars on his back, his shoulders, his arms. And finally his nose and cheek, where you dawdled as if your caress could erase the pain they inflicted.

“What are we going to do, amica mea?” Marcus husked after what felt like an eternity.

Reality set in, leaving a gaping hole in your belly. What could you do? Would you be strong enough to stay by his side for however long the goddess Mors took to claim him? Strong enough to build a life you knew was ephemeral? And once he was gone from this mortal plane, what would be left of you?

The choice was an impossible one. One that you should have made decades ago, when the heart was whole and the mind still strong. Now you knew how arduous life was without him, how—for years—you had looked for him in the small details and every single man who resembled him, how the regret and the grief haunted you at every turn of a decade. Now you knew that life wasn’t worth living if you didn’t have Marcus to share it with.

You traced the profile of his nose with your lips before pressing a soft kiss on his.

“I am not sure, but I am willing to try… if you are,” you whispered, leaning back.

The implications of such life were huge for him. Married, with a son who though himself in love with you, an acclaimed General who served Rome even when Rome didn’t serve him. His responsibilities were greater than yours, Marcus had so much to lose. Had you accepted his proposal when you should have, neither of you would be in such dire situation.

Marcus sighed heavily, rolling onto his side to face you. His calloused hand cradled your cheek, his eyes filled with a determination you wished you had back then, when life was easier.

“There is nothing nor no one that could stop me from spending the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” he mumbled, hand dropping to your hip. “I said it then, and I will say it again: I do not care for this life if you are not with me. I don’t care about reputation nor retaliation. For over fifty years I have done what was expected of me, and I am done living my life for Rome and her vice. You’re the stars that light up my path in the darkest of nights, the warm sun that guides me home. For however long you’ll have me, I’ll be with you. My heart was always yours, mea vita, since the moment I landed eyes on you. And I don’t want it back, ever, even if you have to leave again.”

The softness of his delivery, the truth his words emanated, brought tears to your eyes. You thought yourself unworthy of his love, his devotion, when you had only caused heartbreak. But this was your second chance, one you were not going to let go.

You moved closer to him as his arm wrapped around you. With your forehead resting on his naked chest, you traced invisible lines on his ribs.

“I won’t leave. That broke me once, can’t handle it a second time. I love you and want to spend the rest of our time together showing you how much I do, making up for lost time. For however long,” you repeated, kissing his chin.

There was a brief pause, and you knew what his next words would be.

“How old are you?” the question you had always avoided, dreaded.

“Close to three times your age,” you confessed, looking up at him through your lashes.

The answer slowly sank in, but instead of horror, incomprehension and disgust, you only found acceptance. As if it was just another fact about you, nothing of major importance.

“You look amazing for being close to one hundred and fifty years of age,” he joked with a grin to lighten the mood. You let out a soft laugh in response. “How? If you want to share.”

The story of how you came to be ageless wasn’t a pleasant one. But your life was full of secrets that had ruined every human link you had to this earth, and you wouldn’t let them spoil the only real connection you had left.

“I… I was promised to a man, one who I thought was worthy of my love. There were things I was blind to at that time, and only time showed them to me. I thought everything was going as expected, he was always so courteous and respectful in public. Until our wedding night, when he…” you paused, the memories too painful even after all this time, “he abused me, and let his friends use me. When they were done, they left me for dead in a ditch.”

Marcus’ arm draped around you tighter, his heart beating so loud you could hear it thumping against his chest. He hugged you close, his warmth calming and reassuring. Marcus was nothing like that man, if your abuser could even be considered a person. You knew he never would be so despicable — you were as sure as the first lights of the sun would wake you up tomorrow.

“It took me hours to finally drift away. And when I did, Juno greeted me. Said the man had wronged me, and that I should have a second chance to understand what marriage and true love actually were about. Then she touched me right here,” you caressed the peacock-shaped birthmark, “and breathed life into me.”

Marcus leaned back a little to inspect your torn features. The heartache he had to endure paled in comparison to yours. How could someone inflict such hurt on another? He couldn’t even fathom such disgusting scenario. That man was the reincarnation of evil, and he wished he suffered the most agonising death.

He had only seen your soul’s purity, your kindness, your benevolence. Anyone who didn’t was blind.

“You did not deserve that ending, amica mea — no one does. He didn’t deserve you,” his heart cried for you, for the weight you had carried for over a century. “You’ve got the purest heart I have ever known. A soul that I will protect until my dying breath.”

“A half soul,” you interrupted him, and Marcus looked at you confused. “Because your other half completes mine.”

His heart jolted, this time because of the sweetness of your confession. That muscle had grown bigger in the last two hours than in his entire lifetime. He sworn himself to stand by your side, come what may. You would never be wronged again, not if he could avoid it.

“We’re leaving tonight,” Marcus declared without skipping a beat.

“What? What about your wife, your son?” your eyes had widened, but his resolution was firm.

“My wife… she’s not been my wife for years. She’s poison. And my son…” he shrugged, conflicted. “He’ll eventually understand, or so I hope. I believe he might already have an inkling that something weird was at play from the moment I said your real name.”

“Marcus, are you sure? You’d be sacrificing so much for me, I wouldn’t want to—”

He didn’t let you finish, his mouth covering yours in a passionate kiss that slowly turned gentle and soothing. Your hands caressing his battle-scarred skin was like a balm; your touch the first and only one to cure all his ailments. Unhurriedly, he sat back up on the bed, dragging you with him.

“Let’s leave now. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” Marcus purred against your lips.

Fifteen minutes later, you were both clothed and atop of two horses, blending in with the shadows of the night that concealed your departures, in search of a new life. Together.

taglist: @orcasoul @lilac-boo @picketniffler @almostfoxglove @gothcsz @liciafonseca @namenotimportant1373

[thesquishyfish]

As someone that’s starting to lose mobility, I have been paying more attention to accessibility for disabilities and how it must be getting around in a chair or on crutches. There’s so much stuff I didn’t pick up on until I started thinking about how it might personally affect me in the future. Broken elevators, no ramps up onto curbs, having to buzz in and wait for an employee to let you into buildings other people just walk straight into, ramps that in my inexperienced opinion look damn near impossible to climb in a chair, and of course sidewalks and the like that are terribly uneven from the ground settling.

But also the social aspect of it! I’ve watched people grab people’s chair handles and move them without asking! That feels like the equivalent of shoving someone out of your way and is horribly disrespectful and rude but nobody throws the same fit about it that they would if someone was going around pushing and shoving standing people in a store. Sometimes people will grab and move peoples’ canes crutches, or walkers without asking or even saying anything and that could be so dangerous and why does nobody care? I can even imagine being in a power chair and trying to exist in the world independently with how I’ve seen some people be treated.

I’d like to believe that I can get better and keep walking, but if I can’t I would also like to believe that I can still be treated with respect and equality. I’d encourage anyone who isn’t physically disabled to imagine for a second being in a wheelchair or needing a cane when you’re out doing something mundane and you’ll notice just how difficult things are, sometimes for no reason.

Kinda went on a rant there but it’s something I think about a lot these days. This isn’t a reason you should care, honestly you should care about everyone, but everyone is one bad accident or cancerous cell or underlying medical condition away from being disabled, and if you can’t care about others you can at least think about the world you might be making for yourself. That’s what it took for me to start really noticing.

If you use wheelchair users as an example of the default "person who gets automatically accommodated and treated with empathy and respect" then I'm going to hunt you for sport.

A lot of wheelchair users end up needing to make a whole new group of friends when they start using wheelchairs because suddenly you're viewed as captain buzzkill when you don't want to be carried up and down the stairs by people you KNOW don't lift.

[clare-875]

Why Are You Crying? (Ace x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Ace x Female Reader Summary: Ace accidentally timeslips to the future, Post-Marinford. Warnings: SPOILERS for Marineford, grief, angst, comfort/fluff Notes: The above image does NOT belong to me. [One Piece Masterlist] _____

"What did you do this time Marco?"

Ace groans as he pulls himself to his feet, wiping the sand from himself. "Me? It was you who touched the damned thing-yoi! I told you to be careful!" Marco wretches free of the ground but as the two members of the Whitebeard crew look up, they find themselves in a place completely different to the one they were in just a minute ago.

They and their respective divisions had just been deep in terrestrial rainforests looking for supposed treasures but they now found themselves on a beach; a completely different Island. "How did we get here?" Ace mutters looking to the tropical island that surrounds him.

"It must've been that."

Marco points to the strange sphere object that emits weird waves of light, buried in the sand below them. "Do you think if we touch it again, it will take us back?" Marco asks the raven-haired man who frowns inquisitively at the mess they have found themselves in.

"Beats me."

"Well what are you waiting for, it's the only option we've got."

Ace sighs as he leans forward towards the spherical object with Marco, not looking forward to the twisting feeling he had felt earlier when the sphere had transported him. However, just as the two are about to touch the mystical object, a voice catches them off guard making them flinch away suddenly.

The voice was familiar, and Ace could recognise it from miles away. Instantly a smile widens on his face but when he looks up, he is met with shock.

"... Ace?"

.....

[Several Moments Earlier]

It was now one year after the Marineford incident, and you are in the midst of your training. Luffy had given the crew two years and you have used your time well. Kuma had transported you to a quaint, tropical Island where your mentor taught you skills and tactics you had never even thought of using before. You were strong already, but thanks to them you had grown stronger.

However, despite your progress, you had to admit that your training had faltered along with the shocking news that had travelled the world. You didn't know if you could believe the words in the newspaper in your hands that day, but maybe it was because the truth was too much to endure.

Portgas D. Ace, your love, dead.

Ace.

The grief from the loss was unbearable.

You had grown up with Ace alongside Luffy, but your relationship with the freckle-faced boy had grown into something far deeper than friendship. You had loved him; he had loved you. Despite joining the straw hat crew in the end, it didn't stop that connection.

Though you tried to hide your pain, his death impacted you far worse than others, and even your mentor could see your distracted mind while training, or your irises dark with sadness. His death weighed you down, it tore through your heart and wouldn't leave you in peace. You would find yourself shedding tears often and the clench your despair had around your heart just couldn't seem to loosen.

You weren't there. You weren't there for him.

You couldn't say goodbye.

That was what haunted you the most.

Everyday sleep would taunt you as your raging mind refused to let you rest. You only knew of what had happened days after you had been swept away by Kuma to your island. It was secluded and news rarely carried, but once it had, and once you saw the emboldened title on the paper in your hands, it felt like your world had been stripped from you.

Your Captain had been there, had scraped himself through hell it looked like, and had witnessed the death of his beloved brother. You could only imagine the agony he was in or the grief that had plagued his mind as it did to you now. He was the only one who could understand what it felt like, to lose him.

Ace.

As children, the two of you were almost inseparable and even as Sabo and Luffy joined your group, it did nothing but strengthen the bond between you. The adventures you went on, his unyielding kindness to you, the way he would protect you from harm's way, the way his little face would glow bright red whenever you got too close. The two of you didn't even know what the bubbling feeling inside of you was, but as long as you had the other close, it would never cease to go away.

As you grew older, your crush on the man had only grown. Then, a year before he had embarked on his journey, he had confessed to you. The both of you were young and with young love came the raging emotions of untamed attachment. That year had been bliss to you: training, laughing, holding hands, blushing and kissing. You adored his embrace on cooler nights and adored the way his grin would gleam under the persistent sun.

He was all you could ever need.

Even when you chose to join Luffy's crew, he respected your wishes and his love did not falter. As the three of you embarked on your journeys at different times, he never ceased to come to visit you or write to you letters of his adventures. He was utterly enamoured by you and thought about you each day you were apart and clung to you each day you were in his arms once more; much like you did. Your vivre card was one of his most prized possessions and one he held close to him at all times.

"I'll always find my way to you this way, love."

And his vivre card had been entrusted to your Captain; his brother. If only you had asked for another you could keep. Perhaps then you would've known of the threat to his life so much sooner. Maybe then, you could've done something. Now, you could only imagine what his death must've been like. Luffy had not made contact with you, you knew he probably hadn't made contact with any of the crew apart from the message left in a newspaper a few days after the one on Ace's death.

To meet two years rather than three days later at Sabody.

But despite knowing it was all made with good intention - so that he and the crew could get stronger in that time - you would do anything for a glimmer of an indication that he was okay. You would do anything to know what Ace's last words had been, if his death had been as brutal as the newspapers claim, if he had been happy in his last moments or scared. If he had forgiven you for your absence and understood, or if he held that against you till his dying breath.

Because you did.

You despised that you weren't there. You despise Admiral Akainu for what he has stripped from you. You despise the life you have to go on living without Ace and without your goodbye.

Because that was what you had to do.

Never again would his warm hands caress your skin. Never again would his words ignite in you such adoration you couldn't believe. Never again would his lips touch yours or would you share nights engulfed in the other's presence. All your dreams of a future with him, all his whispers that he would marry you someday, all his promises and your laughs of adoration as he pledged to you were torn to nothingness.

Your tears slip fast past your lashline and your teeth are gritted against each other. How many times had you cried for the man that you loved? You couldn't stop, you don't think you ever could. You felt so alone. God, you felt alone. You didn't even have the simple liberty of looking forward to the next time you see your beloved. Because the next time you do would be decades in the future when you lost your own life to time and age.

"Please..."

You muttered your hopes desperately to the sky, as though looking for any sort of sign that something was out there and that someone would return your beloved Ace to you.

"Please... let me see him one more time..."

"... let me at least say goodbye."

For a long moment, you simply look up to the sky, trying to keep your tears at bay. Silence is all you can hear, and you feel your heart wither at your reality. But then, you hear it.

A familiar voice in the distance, too good to be true.

.....

[Back to the present]

"...Ace?"

Your voice is breathless like the wind was what spoke and not you. 'Ace? It is Ace, right?' You pinch yourself harder than necessary to convince yourself it wasn't another dream. That he was tangible and there and real. But when you look at his warm smile, and delightful surprise at your presence you couldn't stop yourself. You run to him like your life depended on it. Your tears start slipping down your cheeks.

"Ace!"

Your voice breaks, but you don't care because you can feel the warmth he emits as you get closer. You can see the way his arms move wide and welcoming to you, and when you embrace him his scent and heat engulf you. Instantly, you press your ear to his chest and relish the thrumming sound emitting from within him. You relish the way his arms envelop you tight in his embrace, his rumbling laughter against you.

"Damn [y/n], I know it's been a while, but I didn't think you'd miss me that much."

Ace's words are light and teasing as you remember them, but you barely hear them too lost in your shock. Your form trembles under the weight of your tears and sobs suddenly tear through your body. You cling to him tightly, as though he would disappear if you let go for even a second. Your mind is ablaze with only one thought, over and over.

He's alive. He's alive. He's alive.

Ace can feel his lips downturn as your shaking worsens and your hold tightens further. Suddenly he realises that this reunion is nothing like your usual one. Though in his time, only a month had passed since your last meeting, for you, it had been since Alabasta. It was the longest the two of you had been apart even before his death.

Ace knew something was wrong.

"[y/n]?"

His words are shrouded in worry, and his hands anxiously caress your hair as though to soothe you. Surprisingly, it works a little as your sobs die down to gentle tremors when the familiar rhythm brings you back to the present. Ace meets Marco's eyes and he sees the same worry reflecting within them, along with utter confusion. Ace rarely sees you in a state of such despair.

"[y/n]," he mutters gently to you, trying to control the thrumming of his own heart as he looks at your state, worried that you had been harmed or stranded on the Island somehow. But then he thinks of his brother, Luffy, knowing that he would never allow such things to happen to you. But he needs the answers from your own lips.

"[y/n]... why are you crying? What's wrong?"

And that is when you finally look up.

It is Ace's turn to let shock shroud his features as he meets your gaze and you also feel a new surprise envelop you too.

His features were so much younger, and you remember when he looked that way. Still a teenager compared to the man you had last seen. His eyes were still enveloped in youth and nativity, his hair cut slightly shorter, his form less built without the battles he would soon have to face.

Ace looked at you the same way, and his hands trembled slightly as he caressed your hair which had grown far too much since the last time he had seen you. The way your face had become more defined as you grew despite your eyes still shining up at him as they always did. You seemed stronger, surer, and a few years older than the [y/n] he had seen just a month prior.

"[y/n]... why do you seem..."

"Older?" "Younger?"

The two of you speak your thoughts at the same time, your eyes meeting in silent shock and your heart plummeting in grim realisation. That this wasn't the Ace you last saw, Ace wasn't alive, this was a younger Ace who stood before you. But how can that be possible?

"Ace," you murmur, still allowing your gaze to linger on his face and the features you had grieved for the past year. "How long have you been on the Whitebeard crew?" You ask, knowing the answer before he even speaks. "Huh?" Ace looks down at you, shaking free of his own thoughts and answers easily. "It's only been a month? But what has that got to do with-"

"This is the future, Ace. Maybe two or three years?"

You can hear your words out of your mouth, but you can barely believe them yourself. Then your eyes go to the sphere buried in the sand and they widen. You recognised it immediately from Robin's books she used to share with you. It was a sphere that acted as a sort of key between time and space, but it would only exist for several minutes at a time.

Ace would have to return to his time very soon, and when he did, he wouldn't be able to return. 'I have to tell him-'

But when you look up, Ace's lips upturn into a wide and youthful grin. "The future?" Marco grins as well. "I guess we found what we were looking for then," he says as he nods at the sphere. "Didn't think that's what all our searching would get us though, a time-key that only exists for a few minutes? What a waste of time-yoi." They had after all been searching for what they hoped was gold, not an object that would disappear the instant they went back to their time.

"Not a total waste of time," suddenly a warm arm is wrapped around you as Ace pulls you gently into him. His smile shone brighter than the sun when you looked up at him. "Look at how hot my girlfriend is, some things don't change do they baby?" You have to fight not to roll your eyes and smile, but for a moment you forget your grief and are lost in his presence. How easily does he make your worries melt away? How easily can his smile make everything better in this world?

How could you ever let him go?

"Are you sure, you're okay love?" His words are softer, murmured in your ear just for you to hear and suddenly you're fighting your tears again. But you manage to keep them away.

'Do I tell him?'

'Do I?'

'I should tell him, right?'

You meet his kind gaze, his youthful charisma, and his love that is unchanging.

'But how could you tell this man how he dies?'

You swallow harshly, but you find yourself nodding your head in reply.

"Everything's perfect."

He glances at you hesitantly as though he contemplates your words for a moment. But then he decides to trust you. You look at his smile, wide and pushing at freckled cheeks. He seemed so full of life and what's more, he's embracing it. He's not doubting himself or his right to walk the Earth. You had heard the lighthearted banter shared between him and Marco, and you know the Whitebeard crew had granted him what he had been looking for all along: belonging.

You couldn't diminish that light.

It wasn't his time yet, you couldn't rid of his vitality so quickly by selfishly telling him his destiny. He had so much of the world yet to see. He had so much to explore, and so many more memories to make with the you that awaited him in his time. So many fights and treasures to behold. So many more moments to be spent with his bright smile and warmth.

You see the sphere flicker in the sand, a signal that it will soon diminish, and if it did your boyfriend and Marco would be trapped in this time. In a time where he should not exist. The two men also seem to notice, as you feel Ace's hands falter on your skin, and see Marco look up nervously. "We need to go," he picks up the sphere and walks over to you both, waiting for Ace to join him and hold it too.

They only had a minute.

Ace's smile falters only for a second, but he nods; after all, he had the past you waiting for him upon his return. Your smile is sadder than his, but you allow yourself to look up at the man you fell in love with one last time. One last time you felt what it was like to be under the hold of his warm touch. One last time you see the way his eyes flicker with his kindness and wonder and love. One last time you reach out and caress his dark locks, and witness him leaning into your touch.

One last time.

You step forward and he engulfs you in his arms. He murmurs gentle words in your ear. "Tell future me to hurry up, or I'll beat his ass. He must be keeping you waiting too long for you to be crying like this." A lone tear slips past your eye but you smile and laugh softly against his chest. His heat lingers on you as you break away. "I will." You analyse his features, willing yourself to memorise him so that you remember him for the rest of your life.

"Goodbye Ace, I love you... so much."

Ace grins and he presses his lips gently to the top of your head, his hand caressing your face before he pulls away.

"I love you too."

He moves as he reaches Marco's side, both hands enveloping the sphere alongside him. The sphere flickers one more time, and you see one of his hands rise in the air, the shout of his words lingering in the air.

"See you later!"

And just as quickly as he came, he was gone.

You stand still, looking to the spot in the sand as more tears break your lash line, but on your face is a full, bright smile. You can still feel his warmth that had just touched your skin, you can still see the way he smiled as he looked at you. But most of all, your wish had somehow been granted. A miracle you knew many others who had lost someone could only beg for.

One last moment with him: an actual goodbye.

"See you later," you whisper back to the wind, hoping he might be able to hear it across the time and space between you. There is a flicker of light cast on your skin from the sun, a shift in the breeze and a sudden warmth in the air. You look to the sky and imagine his smiling face, believing that he is watching over you.

[circeyoru]

Shadow and Void _ Part 4

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Enemy Monarch!Reader]

Part 1 ― Part 2 ― Part 3 ― Part 4 (here)

You want to kill something—someone to be specific—right now. Even as you were surrounded with snacks you liked, you hated the situation unfolding before you. The mind of a human is just too weird for you to understand in any sense.

You angrily bit on the chip between your fingers with a loud and resounding snap that broke the silence while your eyes drilled holes into the man who was basically holding you there against your will, maybe with some form of bribe, but it was definitely not the snacks. Definitely.

“Just let her in your guild, you edge lord.” You hissed as you took the female Hunter’s side, annoyed at the various ridiculous excuses Jinwoo listed to push Hae-In away. You would admit that you’re impressed with her resilience when facing such a menace; then again, she is in love, and love makes one do crazy things.

Jinwoo had half a mind to know not to voice out the question of how and why you’d know such phrasing, since there was Cha Hae-In present and there was no need to raise alarm bells. Though the greatest reason was that he didn’t want another to know about you or what you are precisely. He can’t say he’s bothered by the way your eyes stared at him, all focused and guarded, ready to take Hae-In hostage if the situation calls for it.

Ah, but it won’t be much help to you. You’d have picked the wrong target. If it were someone like his mother or younger sister, then there’d be an effect you’d wanted. However, this was Hae-In, he barely met her and she barely knew him. That can’t be the case between you two. 

He knew about your being as a Monarch and an inhuman thing using a human body as a vessel, you knew about his levelling-up system that granted him his status as an S-Rank and all his other abilities. He and you could be your true selves in each other’s presence, no filter, no expectations of fulfilling anything. In a sense, he felt more at peace with you than the other people around him. Like you were someone as close to him as family. 

Perhaps this was the after-effects of viewing the memories between you and Ashborn, but that was his thoughts.

“There’s an entrance test before I can allow you to join, Hunter Cha.” Jinwoo stated nonchalantly.

You raised a brow while Hae-In flinched in alarm, “H- Huh?! That wasn’t in the recruiting notice…”

“A mistake, since we were busy these few days.” Jinwoo got up and eyed you to do the same, you complied while bringing along your unfinished snacks. “If you think it’s too sudden and unreasonable, you can―”

“What kind of test is it?” Hae-In asked with resolve.

You practically saw the shock in Jinwoo’s eyes, hiding a snicker as you internally mocked his poor insight into a woman’s determination. 

“You have to win against one of my summons.” Jinwoo laid out the simple yet vague requirement. 

“Is the evaluation of me in your eyes so low, Hunter Sung?” Hae-In’s tone turned firm and solid, nothing like her previous blushing mess. You can’t miss the fire burning in her eyes, “What kind of summon is it?”

With a cruel thought, you wondered if killing this Hunter for Ashborn and adding her to his army would be a good enough apology gift. Then again, you had to do it when the vessel’s soul is gone and Ashborn is back to fully appreciate your work well done. You’ll keep the thought in mind for the future. For now, you’ll let the humans deal with their business.

“For you, Hunter Cha, I’ll use my strongest summon ally.” Just as you were leaving the scene, Jinwoo’s hand placed firmly on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. You looked up at him in confusion and question as he looked down with a smirk. “This one.”

Hae-In jumped, “You’re a summon?! But you’re so… So…”

“Human?” Jinwoo smiled, leaning down to your level as his face was next to yours and made eye contact with Hae-In, “Yes, this is my perfect ally and companion in battle; it wouldn’t be good for a monster to be around me, right?”

You glared at Jinwoo, completely unaware of the conflicted expression on Hae-In’s face as your back was facing her. You whispered a hiss at him, “What are you doing? Don’t drag me into this.”

“A small deal then.” Jinwoo whispered back, taking advantage of Hae-In’s inner turmoil. “If you can ward Hunter Cha from joining my guild, you won’t have to stay by my side all the time. In other words, defeat Hunter cha and you get some free time for yourself without me around.”

That got your attention and you turned to glance at Hae-In. This woman can’t even manage to hold this vessel’s attention for long, not to mention how you were now dragged into some useless fight. Even if you let her into the guild, her use wasn’t much and she is weak compared to this vessel before you. The comparison was unfair, but it was the truth.

“Fine, but you keep your word.”

“Of course.”

You turned your heel and dumped the snacks back onto the coffee table. Taking a page out of Igris’ book, you stood at attention and fixed your expression to a more stoic and indifferent look, your chin angled down and your hands were placed behind your back, your eyes stared sharply at Hae-In. “My Lord has suggested I do battle with you for your place in his guild,” You offered your hand as you asked, “Should you accept, only if you win against me will you be considered acceptance. Do you still wish to partake in the duel?”

Jinwoo was almost taken aback with your shift in attitude and character. Not that he found fault in it, but rather, he was more drawn to you. It was smart of him to make such an appealing offer to you. The System’s information was right on the money. You are so self-centered and willing to abandon others for your own cause.

Now, all he needed to do was make sure you don’t can’t leave him.

His eyes glowed briefly when Hae-In’s hand gripped yours with a firm nod that meant ‘yes’. The moment you looked over as if asking for approval made his heart skip a beat, you were acting just like an actual Shadow soldier of his. He nodded back and watched you raise your other hand to snap your fingers. 

In the blink of an eye, all three of you were transported to another dimension. All your surroundings were misty, and even the ground was covered with a layer of fog that obscured their vision of their own feet. You had long walked off from Jinwoo’s side, only when he snapped back to attention did he realize he was standing at the perfect angle to see you and Hae-In on either side of a field of sorts.

“Here, we can battle without restraint.” You said, and with another snap of your fingers, a rack of weapons appeared by Hae-In’s side. “Pick your weapon, and we will begin on My Lord’s mark.”

So Jinwoo was right; you could have escaped to your own realm at any moment, with or without his consent and knowledge. Why you haven’t done so was odd, but that also proves how much of a hold Ashborn has on you. If only he could shift your attention from his predecessor to himself. 

Hae-In picked a long sword while you stood immobile. 

“Ready.”

Hae-In got into a stance, but you were as still as can be like you were frozen in place.

“Set.”

Hae-In’s mana aura surrounded her, charging her blade as well. You did nothing.

“Go!”

Hae-In took the initiative and charged forward, planning to end the duel with one quick decisive move. However, just before her blade reached you, you had disappeared in thin air. As quickly as you disappeared, you materialized behind Hae-In and kicked her in the back to send her flying to the side. You stood at your spot, fixing your clothes, tugging at your sleeves from your movement.

Swiftly, Hae-In had recovered and remained on the offensive. Your head tilted and you dodged her incoming attacks with graceful movements. The way you put minimum effort into this was almost like you were toying with the Hunter. Your monotonous expression and your hands behind your back were screaming handicap. It may look like an advantage to Hae-In, but it hurt her pride.

“Fight me for real.” Hae-In panted, finding this play irritating.

You merely blinked and hummed. Your eyes darted over to Jinwoo’s analytic look, no doubt he was watching this fight with a hawk, mainly judging your abilities than Hae-In’s qualifications to join the guild. You knew and he knew, there was no way Hae-In could win against you, a Monarch. It was only a matter of how to create that loss without death.

If only you could kill. Then everything would be so easy. You sighed, momentarily closing your eyes before they opened and glowed, “Humans are so ignorant of their limits…”

Note: Probably not the update you guys wanted, but I've been writing for this series still~ I'm thinking of making the parts longer cause of the gaps between updates though, not just for this series, but maybe for future posts too.

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: @o-qi-shisme @2021animeandwebtoons @mochinon-yah @skylar896 @rai-xxx @lilliana-14 @larettajudith

[violenteconomics]

FRESHMEN 101 FOR ASPIRING UPPERCLASSMEN

today’s lesson: proper communication and translation 🗣️

azul: greetings! i am your professor, azul ashengrotto! welcome to "freshmen 101 for aspiring upperclassmen" at night raven college! the only class that will you teach how to effectively handle those little brats— I MEAN loveable new faces you see around your dorm!

riddle: today, we will focus on how to properly communicate with your first-years. some of the things they say may be confusing and/or contradictory, so it's important to know how to translate their sentences into coherent language you understand.

vil: we have set up a variety of examples with our fellow co-professors and fellow seniors to guide you along this journey.

^

epel: vil, do you think i’d look better with a tattoo?

vil: translation: i am entering my rebellious phase and also want to ruin my delicate skin with a glorified paint job that i will most definitely regret in the future and will make me wish i had listened to my housewarden more. also, i have no hope of a happy future and will live out my days as a gangster on the streets.

epel: …what?

^

ortho: big brother, can you help me with a cosmetics alteration to my gear?

idia: big brother, i want to be the sparkliest, prettiest, most drop-dead gorgeous, most attractive, most charming, 5-star-reviewed, no notes, darling, glamorous, talented, brilliant, incredible, show-stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, stunning, bewitching, adorbs, graceful, beguiling, smashing, knock-out, irresistible person in the classroom tomorrow.

ortho: yay~! 😀

^

deuce: sorry i was out past curfew, trey… i’m a little tired, so is it okay if i skip brushing my teeth tonight?

trey: translation: i have a secret boyfriend that i don’t want you to know about because he coerces me to engage in illegal underground boxing rings and convinces me that brushing my teeth is for losers. please get involved and maybe call the police and also never let me out of the dorm again until i’ve properly relearned the benefits of proper dental hygiene!

deuce: …huh?

^

sebek: silver, i think… i would like to make some friends with the people in our dorm. could you… mayhaps give me some advice?

silver: translation: i am a strikingly realistic imposter of your actual friend. i do not love nor care for you, and in fact, am very frightened by your presence, so i will gather allies from other places in an elaborate scheme to destroy you, the liege you’ve sworn your life to, your father, and your friend, whom i’ve already killed and whose body i have hidden in the basement. please end me.

sebek: pardon? what— what are you— why are you carrying around a camera— NO! NO NO NO NONONONO SILVER IF I’VE OFFENDED YOU I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE— SILVER PUT THE SWORD DOWN—

^

yuu: everyday, i’m scared that everything i’ve worked so hard to build in this world, all the friends i’ve made… all of it will just— slip through my fingers like sand… kalim? azul? what are your biggest fears?

kalim: translation: wow, things sure have been getting a little upsetti spaghetti around here! let’s throw a huge party in the mostro lounge with food and games and bright lights and elephants and and invite all of our friends to lighten up the atmosphere! the more, the merrier!

azul: translation: and while we’re at it, please don’t forget the mostro lounge’s limited time “part of your world” event, which offers authentic drinks, food, and even little trinkets from all around the world, for 20% off its original price!

yuu: guys pls

^

ace: hey, riddle? i, uh… i need help with smth.

riddle: translation: i have gotten into some very serious trouble and am about to lure you into a death trap that will get us both severely injured in all likelihood, and i am coming to you, specifically, about this, because i know you care deeply for me and couldn’t say no if you honestly thought my life was in danger, and i am going to exploit it for my own ends. what is it, ace?

ace: …ok, u lil bitch i see how it is

^

jack: hey, leona? ruggie? do you… do you love me?

leona: 

ruggie: 

leona: 

ruggie: 

ruggie: translation: give me food!

jack: …would it help if i said it first?

leona: 

ruggie: 

leona: 

ruggie: 

leona: …no, wait— i think maybe he said “give me sliced pears on a plate”... not sure, tho.

ruggie: that does sound right...

jack: oh my seven.

[wildsaltair]

bringing back my old tags on this one because my feelings about this gifset and man are eternal and unchanging. @coping-via-clint-eastwood thank you for bringing this back into my orbit — I can’t stop looking at the back of his neck 👀👀👀

#when future generations ask me what perfection looked like in my day i will direct them to this gifset

#i'm trying to think of something witty to say but he's so perfect i forgot

#I KEEP PAUSING IT TO LOOK AT HIS NECK

#his profile ohhh my gooossshhhhhhh

#when the gods made this man they spent at least a day arguing over how much perfection could be used on a single human being

#and in the end he got ALL OF IT

#his shoulder in the last gif I AM GOING ABSOLUTELY FERAL

#frothing at the mouth licking my chops begging for one kiss upon his skin

#the first and second gifs though are REALLY doing it for me

#like may i PLEASE

#PLEASE

#just let me hold him i am begginnnggggg you

#i could look at him every moment of every day and night and never get tired of him

#“he's average looking” “he's not even that attractive” “it's sweet that you like him for his personality” EXCUSE ME

#maximus decimus meridius checks off every box i've ever had and even created some new ones

#i'm just THE HELMET

#THE TURN AROUND

#HIS NOSE HIS EARS HIS NECK I WILL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN

#his eyelashes in the third gif???

#they're a mile long and they brush against my heart every time he blinks

#i'll be absent from this blog for awhile guys sorry

#getting gunned down and arrested by the horny police for egregious acts of lust

#i'm guilty on all counts

#op i am literally salivating THANK YOU SO MUCH

Gladiator (2000)

[airybcby]

hi !! i wanted to request for your most recent event could you do ness with 🧁 and 🍊 ?? i love your writing so much :3 also if the events close please just ignore this! ^^

hi! tysm for giving me the opportunity to write abt ness, i love him!

an alexis ness orange citrus cupcake :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° let me love you goodbye

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event !

♡ content — alexis ness x gn! reader, gn! reader, ex bf! ness, ness being peer pressured into breaking up, mentions of kaiser (once), pining (ness), reader does try to stay strong, second chance romance

♡ synopsis — when you and alexis ness broke up, it shattered something in you that never quite healed. well, or so you thought.

You hadn’t seen Alexis Ness in almost a year.

After he walked away—after you walked away—it became easier to think of him as someone from a chapter of your life you’d already closed. No texts, no calls, no random appearances at the coffee shop where you used to meet. It was like he’d erased you as easily as wiping dust from a mirror.

And maybe that was for the best.

Because loving Alexis Ness had been all-consuming.

He was kind, soft-spoken, and impossibly thoughtful when it came to you. But he was also impressionable—so much so that others’ opinions carried more weight than they should have.

And when Michael Kaiser told him that you were a distraction—someone holding him back from becoming his best self—he believed it.

He’d tried to explain, of course. Told you how much he loved you, how much it hurt him to let you go, but he couldn’t risk his future. He couldn’t let anything interfere with his soccer career.

You’d cried, argued, and begged him to see that you weren’t the obstacle he thought you were. That you were rooting for him, standing in his corner no matter what.

But it wasn’t enough.

So, when the two of you broke up, it shattered something in you that never quite healed.

When you saw his name listed as your partner for the marriage simulation program, your first reaction was disbelief.

Your second reaction was anger.

Of all the people they could have paired you with, why him? Why Alexis?

But as much as you wanted to march to the program administrator’s office and demand a change, you didn’t. Instead, you gritted your teeth and resolved to survive the next few weeks.

It was just a simulation. Nothing more.

You could handle being around him again.

The first day was awkward, to say the least.

“Hey,” he greeted you at the door of the shared apartment, his voice careful, like he was afraid you’d bolt.

“Hey,” you replied flatly, stepping inside with your suitcase.

The apartment was small but cozy—a living room that flowed into a tiny kitchen, and two bedrooms tucked away in the back.

“Uh, I took the room on the left,” Alexis said, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve. “But if you want it, we can switch.”

“I don’t care,” you said, brushing past him.

The air between you was heavy, filled with all the words you hadn’t said to each other in a year.

The first few days were a study in avoidance.

You spoke when necessary—coordinating chores, reviewing assignments—but nothing more.

The points staring at the two of you in your living room, the bright red number of '2'...only because you'd split the chores. Other couples were already in the hundreds.

It was easy for them, they may have actually liked their partner.

Still, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart twisted every time he smiled, or the pang of longing when he casually said your name, like he hadn’t shattered your heart a year ago.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. Not anymore.

But then, one evening, everything changed.

The two of you were tasked with planning a mock anniversary celebration as part of the program.

“You always liked candlelight dinners,” Alexis said quietly, glancing at you from across the table.

The words caught you off guard. “You remember that?”

He smiled faintly. “I remember everything.”

You looked away, focusing on the flickering candle between you. “It doesn’t mean anything, Ness. It’s just a simulation.”

“Is it?” he asked, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite name. Regret? Hope?

Your throat tightened, but you didn’t respond.

Later that night, as you cleaned up the mock dinner, he spoke again.

“I was wrong,” he said suddenly.

You froze, your hands stilling on the dish you were drying.

“About everything. About you,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “You weren’t a distraction. You were the only person who ever truly supported me, and I was too stupid to see it.”

Your chest ached as you turned to face him. “Why are you telling me this now, Ness? A year ago, I begged you to stay. I begged you to believe in us. And you walked away.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes glistening. “And I’ve regretted it every single day since.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “You can’t just say that and expect everything to be okay.”

“I’m not asking for everything to be okay,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m asking for another chance. To prove that I’m not the same person who let you go.”

For a moment, you considered walking away. Turning your back on him the way he had on you.

But then you saw the sincerity in his eyes—the same eyes that once looked at you like you were his whole world.

And maybe, just maybe, you could believe in him again.

The simulation ended a few weeks later, but your story with Alexis Ness didn’t.

This time, he stayed.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt whole again.

the ending is rlly crappy but my brain wasn't working

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[youkeepmehigh]

Kevin’s Heart

Ekko x fem!reader 18+ This is for future use in my new Wattpad series The Butterfly Effect sooo you should definitely check it out ;) Also I listened to the song Kevin’s Heart by J. Cole while writing this hence the title so if you want you should listen to it while you read this or just listen it whenever it’s a good song lol

Ekko is a hard worker guy, leading the Firelights and working on all his little projects in his workshop and like everyone else he gets stressed out from time to time. Especially when he locks himself up in his workshop for hours and maybe even days on end. Everyone’s too scared to check on him, afraid they’ll get cussed out for disturbing him but not you.

You sat on the bed in his workshop just watching him with a slight frown. He’d write something down, try and go with, realize it wouldn’t work, erase. He repeated that cycle many times before getting frustrated. “Fuck!” He cursed throwing his pencil down on his desk before leaning back in his chair, pinching his nose bridge and sighing heavily as he tried to keep himself composed.

You got up from the bed quietly making your way towards him. You stood behind him massaging his tense shoulders. “You’re gonna burn yourself out at this rate…” You practically whispered in his ear, you felt him slowly start to relax, melting at your touch. “I know…” He said softly as he took his hand away from his face resting it in his lap, you let out a soft hum a small smile forming on your face as an idea formed in your head.

“You wanna take a little break?” You asked as you ran your hands down his chest, making your voice so soft and sweet he couldn’t immediately dismiss you. “What’s going on up in that little head?” He asked tilting his head up at you, earning a small giggle from you. You gently ran your hands back up his chest stopping at his neck, you gave him a small yet somewhat passionate kiss getting a small groan out of him.

“You just relax while I take care of you, yeah?” You responded turning his chair away from his desk, you walked in front of him before getting on your knees making him visibly flustered. “Take…care of me?” He repeated feeling his stomach do flips just from seeing you like this, was what he thinking really about to happen? He’d never had a blowjob before…but he wasn’t going to admit it, no way.

“Mhmmm.” You hummed as you ran your hands along his thighs slowly making your way up to the belt of his pants, so very…antagonizing. He let out a small sigh as he leaned back slightly spreading his legs a bit wider. “That’s it, forget about everything else.” You said softly as your hands finally made it to his belt slowly unfastening it. He couldn’t resist just staring at you and your hands watching your every move, his dick activity growing in his pants.

Once you unfastened his belt you slightly pulled his pants down, met with his boxers and the bulge coming from underneath. “Someone’s excited to see me.” You teased as you put a hand on his lower abdomen slowly running it down his abs and his happy trail taking a moment to admire the short white hairs leading all the way under his boxers, you continued before stopping at his waistband for a moment before grabbing it and pulling it down, his cock practically burst out.

He was incredibly hard and big like more than you intentionally thought he was, you weren’t going to back down though you came so far already might as well finish the job. You were stuck in thought for a moment looking at it before being broken out of it by him saying something. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.” He teased waiting for you to make your next move, he was secretly trying to mask his nervousness with cockiness. “I don’t get cold feet.” You replied before taking a hand and grabbing his dick giving it slow strokes, if anything you were just being really bold right now. He let out a small huff at the sudden contact keeping his eyes locked on yours. You let out a giggle seeing his reaction starting to speed the strokes up.

After a few moments he was slowly becoming a mess. He was letting more desperate sounding moans and starting to squirm, he was trying his best not to though he wanted this moment to last for a good while. One thing he couldn’t stop was his hips instinctively thrusting into your hand every once in a while, letting out a small whimper as he did it. “Stay still.” You ordered as you sped up the pace even more making him let out a long groan.

He tried his best to stay as still as possible, his hands gripping the armrest of his chair. He never realized how rough his hands were compared to yours until now, yours were so soft almost as if you hadn’t lifted a finger your whole life at least compared to his. “Don’t be shy, use your words.” You teased as you slowly licked the leaking pre-cum off of his tip earning a moan out of him, making him toss his head back. “That feels so- so…fucking good…” He said softly, you were making it so hard to focus.

You couldn’t help but smile a bit seeing how much he liked this, you decided to take it a step further by wrapping your lips around his tip slowly bobbing your head on just his tip. “Oh my god…” he mumbled resting the back of his hand on his forehead, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. This already felt better than he ever had imagined, the high he was getting from this was different than any other high he’s felt. This high felt dangerous.

He felt almost as if he didn’t deserve any of this, to be treated like this, to be loved like this. But he felt too good to care right now.

You slowly started going down further and further, still stroking and twisting at him with one hand your other hand resting on his thigh. He glanced down at you watching you intensely, he felt like he might of just found the love of his life but it still felt so wrong having to a Plitie all over him like this. His hand went over to you tangling his fingers in your hair before grabbing you by it, he set the pace just the way he wanted it. Slow.

You let him do as he wanted, when you felt his hand gripping your hair you started to notice how wet this was actually making you. You slipped your free hand down your pants, starting to play with yourself as you sucked him off, rubbing your clit in circles. He let out more and more noises getting louder by the minute as he felt his release coming, he was worked up before but now you replaced it with a different type of worked up, the good kind.

“I’m so close…” he groaned, he started making the pace faster and pushed your head farther down. You let out a small whine as your circles became more faster and sloppy. He let out a small lighthearted laugh hearing you whine making your stomach do a flip.

His hands grip on you got a bit tighter as he came very close to cumming, despite his grip on you, you took the rest of his length in your mouth forcing him down your throat making tears build up in your eyes. Almost on command he came down your throat letting out a few moans and gasps as he did. “Fuck…” he said in almost a whisper as he looked down at you, you lifted your head up letting out a few coughs.

“Feel better?” You asked looking up at him earning a smile out of him, which you hadn’t seen in a while. “Much better.” He said as he leaned forward towards you giving you a long passionate kiss. “My turn to take care of you now huh?” He said after breaking the kiss.

Part 2?? ;)

[nemisuki]

Sudden Shower

Break up AU | You didn’t realize entering a new life would affect your relationship this drastically. Maybe some things are meant to stay in the past to live in the future. 

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, pure angst, no fluff, sad but kinda open ending, aged up to 19-20, right person wrong time trope, high school sweethearts no more, time to cry, read at ur own will, 1.1k word count 

"You can't keep pushing me away when all I've been doing is trying to help you Katsuki."

The sound of water droplets echo around the couple - pitter and pattering of the rain trickle on the concrete pathway under their feet.

Small vibrations course through his hand as the storm grows more intense, both in his heart and nature taking its course, heavy downpour hitting the surface of their shared umbrella.

Her gaze roams his facial features from the side, the moonlight illuminating his red eyes, making them look more intense if even possible.

"I didn't ask for your fucking help. I'm not a kid who needs to hold your hand every step of the way."

He refuses to meet her eyes - staring straight ahead as they walk towards the agency he interns at. His voice was intense yet not to the point of yelling.

Arguments aren't uncommon these days. Growing more frequent these past couple of weeks.

The stress of newfound adulthood seeping into the cracks of their relationship.

"Yes and I understand that but you're not acknowledging my concerns! It's not like I think you're not capable, I'm worried about you. What part of that don't you get-"

He halts in his stride as she expresses her troubles - causing her to stop as well.

They both stand in uncomfortable silence, the only thing being heard is the rain around them and sway of leaves from the trees of the park.

A shortcut to the agency they found months ago.

"Don't you think I know that? That's not the point! Breathing down my neck every time we meet and constantly babying me is fucking annoying!"

"Because I care about you!"

"You never were like this before we graduated! And don't give me that bullshit of hero work being dangerous. I know what I signed up for and you knew since we started dating!"

"Did you ever think for one second from my perspective?! I barely see you these days and when I do, you're so exhausted that I have to pick up your pieces!"

"I never asked you too, I'm fucking fine!"

"You never tell me anything! Just talk to me! Why can't you admit to yourself that you need a break?!"

"I don't exactly have the pleasure to have free time Y/N. I can't just stop going on patrols because my girlfriend fucking misses me!"

The storm only seems to grow more intense as the pitch of their voices turn sharp - courtesy of their fluctuating emotions.

A chill goes up her spine as he finally turns to face her, those red orbs boring into her own.

Whether it's from the cold weather or the frustrated expression on his face, she doesn't know.

At his words she's unaware of what to say in response, thinking about the tension between them as of lately.

Her gaze wanders away from his face and down to the puddle forming beneath them.

The reflections of them two tauntingly staring back at her. A version of themselves they have yet to explore.

This isn't high school drama anymore - the new world they entered was filled with responsibilities and unfamiliar experiences.

They have yet to open the gates of their unknown future as adults but looks like they'll be choosing which path to take from here on out.

And they both knew there was only one right option.

He seems to understand what's going through her mind and grimaces at the thought.

Even if he knew it was inevitable.

The decision was like a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode after weeks of arguments, conflicts and foul exchanges.

She couldn’t constantly be distracted from her work because of the uncontrollable anxiety towards him. And he couldn’t give it his all if he had to balance his busy schedule between his work and personal relationships.

They both had problems to work on but separately. 

"....katsuki-"

"yeah i know... i know."

Before he cowers back on this decision, he gently places the umbrella in her hand, giving her one final look.

As if all his frustrations vanished and were replaced with a neutral reaction. Maybe because he’s trying to be strong for the both of them, knowing he has to be the one to end things.

That’s something that she always admired, his strength.

She’s about to apologize for not being the one to speak up but he shakes his head. Already knowing what she’s gonna say and gently patting her head.

Her heart thumping away at the small gesture.

A distant look casts over their eyes - though they both know once they look away, it will all come crashing down.

They didn't say much after that, unaware of how long they stood in the same position communicating with their stare alone.

He was the first one to move.

Turning around and beginning to walk away from her, droplets starting to absorb into the jacket he wore today.

One she bought him long ago.

"Text me when you get home at least dummy."

The serene sound of his voice made her unable to stay silent any longer, she bit her cheek as tears began trickling down her face, attempting to hold back the sobs urging to escape her mouth.

"Katsuki!" she yells out, once he's a good distance away.

Her heart is clenching so much that it hurts, her throat closing up as if her body registers that this is really it.

He hesitates but ultimately turns around, looking at her from afar.

This distance between them is so vast - both physically and emotionally.

When you love someone, set them free right? Right.

It was as if all their shared memories came flowing back to her.

Perhaps they were meant to meet when they're still young and find each other again when they're older.

Or maybe this truly is the end - only time would tell.

She musters up the best smile she could at the moment and stares at him. Many thoughts going through her mind but only one stands out.

Slowly she opens her mouth to speak, wanting nothing more then to run back into his arms and say "I love you" but-

"Thank you."

Before he could say anything back, she turns on her heels and spins around, walking away from him before she breaks down. 

Finally allowing her emotions to surface, bursting into tears as her figure goes out of sight.

She knew if he said anything more, she'd go running back to him. But you shouldn't stay on a chapter for too long, no one should stay stuck in the past after all.

Unable to see the blonde, he stands there motionless, letting the rain devour him up completely.

Streaks of water dripping down his cheeks - unaware of the difference between possible tears and the downpour coming from the clouds.

"I love you too Y/N."

Oh how much the boy hates rain. 

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| im sorry i haven't posted in 2 whole weeks! honestly i zone out during december but im back ૮꒰ྀི > . < ꒱ྀིა and with some angst oooo la la. idk if u guys would like more sad fics like this on my page but do lmk in the comments! sometimes u just gotta let people go to improve on urself and thats okay :) tags ||| @leleyro

[ere-the-sun-rises]

I've got a story about this exact situation.

| | |

I had to read "The Stone Angel" by Margaret Laurence in Grade 12 English. It's hard to describe - a kind of day-in-the-life-of/character study/old-woman-tells-you-her-life-story kind of book. It's not about anything, necessarily - just a run through of one woman's version of the human experience. She tells her story as it happened, occasionally interjecting regrets or observations from her vantage point in the future. An interesting narrative design, and a compelling one.

I hated every fucking moment of reading that book. I bitched and moaned and resented it for taking up my life.

The worst part was, ironically, the protaganist. She was the most bitter, vile, wretched and judgmental shrew I'd ever had the misfortune to read about. I loathed her and being forced to see through her eyes. She would say and think unhinged and cruel things to people who loved her and cared for her. Had she been real before me, I would have slapped her so hard she'd get whiplash. She was repulsive, and even the really shitty things that happened to her - like two abusive husbands who left her broke and shamed - could not summon my pity or empathy. I didn't think she deserved what they put her through, but by god, she certainly didn't deserve to be happy.

And then ... the ending happened.

She skips back and forth between describing her past and narrating her present, where's she's an 80-something living with her second son and his wife. She tells you early on that she's doing this mental exercise because she's been diagnosed with dementia, so she wants to remember everything as it happened.

She decides to wander the neighbourhood and gets lost for three days. She finds and makes friends with a homeless man who lets her share his cardboard and newspaper bedding. They swap some stories about their lives. She thinks about her life on a park bench during the day, sitting in the sun and enjoying the warmth after a cold night. She finally admits she's been ungrateful (and unrepentantly evil) to a lot of people in her life (especially her second son and especially especially his wife). Then, in the middle of a thought, the sentence stops short and the rest of the page is empty. It took me a moment to register what had just happened. I re-read the last few sentences a few times before it clicked.

She died.

An elderly woman, riddled with dementia, lost and unable to find her way home, died out in a public park, alone.

Except I was there.

I'd been there with her the whole time. I left the house with her, followed her through the little city she lived in, listened as she told me her whole life story. I had been with her to her final breath and thought - the only one who was. Someone random. A stranger who, until this very moment, had reviled her and sought only to escape her miserable fucking life - I was who she died with. Not her son who loved her so much or her daughter-in-law who spent years looking after this frigid bitch, not anyone from her past - me. Just ... me.

I was shattered. I sat on my bedroom floor, staring at and rereading her last, unfinished words. I knew she had more to say and only now, once she was gone, did I want to know them. All the resentment drained out of me and I was left by myself for the first time in weeks, hollowed out and sad. Sad for all of it - the misery her husbands put her through, the elitist pride she saddled herself with, the disdain she showed everyone around her, the heartbreak of her son when he inevitably found her body. So much time and energy ... all wasted by her. She couldn't realize much she had until she's elderly and lost, and through a confluence of chance and her own high-handed sins, she dies here. With nothing by ghosts and no one but a distant stranger who never talks back.

I closed that book and stared blankly at the cover art. I just watched that woman die. And this transcript of her thoughts is all that's left of her now - sitting on the floor between my legs and staring silently back at me.

| | |

I only read this book once, and I'm unlikely to ever read it again. I hated her, and I'd probably hate her even more now that I'm an adult with more adult perspectives on the things in her life.

I think everyone should read it.

It's a miserable slog with a repugnant protaganist and it broke my heart so thoroughly that I still remember it a decade later. I've never had a book - before or since - strip me bare with all the things it didn't say. The pathos is extraordinary and devastating. The absence of her words, the unfinished thoughts in her mind ... haunting.

I said that this book isn't about anything, because it isn't. But "The Stone Angel" is something ... her tombstone. It's simultaneously what it is to die and to watch someone die. To feel loss, even for someone you might hate. She's dead, and her death doesn't take her wrongs with her or undo her own suffering - it's just silence. Loss. Maybe even grief.

But that's the point, isn't it? To feel grief, one must have empathy, sympathy; feel affection or pity or both. This book made me feel grief for a fundamentally unpleasant fictional woman simply by letting me experience her life with her.

You'll hate reading this book, and I think you should.

I straight up do not trust you if you did not enjoy a single book you had to read for English class. I know they assigned some real stuffy stinkers and the curriculum varies across districts but not one? Not The Outsiders? Not The Picture of Dorian Gray? Not Fahrenheit 451? Not even Frankenstein? Damn. That’s crazy.

[nicholaschavezobsessed]

HIIIIIII

First I wanna say I love your work and give you all my support

So I was thinking a husband!father Charlie x wife!reader (cause I saw in a fic that apparently priest can stay married if they got married before they became priest but hey I dunno girl I ain’t Christian😭) and like reader work at the diner where Megan and Charlie goes to eat in episode 2 and reader is really jealous of Megan and hate her (she don’t hide it from Charlie) because she’s supposed to be a nun but she’s still drooling over Charlie.

This is all I got because it’s been in my late night fake scenarios for WEEKS but I always called asleep before fixing an end😭

Love ya kiss kiss💗🫶

Jealous Girl (Father Charlie x wife reader)

warnings: language, implied actions

wordcount: 1.1k

authors note: I enjoyed writing this one. Thank you for the support!!! VERY appreciated love! I hope this is similar to what you were wanting! Let me know if you want a pt. 2!!

You never gave much thought to your future. Your mind was fixated on one thing and one thing only: Charlie Mayhew and his damn charm. From the very moment you laid eyes on him, he completely consumed me. He is the one thing that managed to make you think about the future; you'd be more than just a waitress at the simple diner in your town; you'd be his wife, and that was something you made sure of. One thing you didn't count on? Your personal trainer husband becoming a priest. It wasn't an easy change; you weren't really a religious person, so you didn't really understand his calling, but you supported him the best you could.

(Present day)

It was a normal day in the diner, not completely empty but not completely full. Nothing really caught your eye until the bell jingled, signaling a customer walking in; you ruffled down your uniform, putting on your customer service smile. "Welcome in..." You trail off, soaking in the person in front of you. Dressed in black and white, full-on nun attire with her phone glued to her hand. You quickly clear your throat, realizing you had stared a bit too long. "Welcome in Sister. Would you prefer a seat at the counter or in a booth?" She takes a second, glancing between the booth and the counter. "A booth please. I'm meeting someone; face to face seems better." She flashes you an awkward smile, waiting for you to lead the way. "Of course, right this way." You grab two menus, thoughts clawing at your brain. Who could she be meeting? More nuns? Not really something the diner sees a lot. Truckers? Yes. Nuns? No. You lead her to her booth, placing a menu in front of and across from her. You pull your pen from behind your ear and a notepad out as she slides into her spot, eyes bouncing from me to the door. "Can I get you started with something to drink?" Her eyes dart to you, "A water would be fine, thank you." You nod, beaming her a smile before walking off.

The sound of chitter fills your ears as you make your way behind the counter, huffing to yourself as you fix her water. Another one of your customers at the counter flag you down for a refill. You top off their coffee before sauntering off back to the nun's booth with her water and your notepad at the ready. "Can I get you something to eat while you wait, hun?" She moves a strand of blonde, curly hair from her eyes as she shakes her head. "I'll wait for the father to arrive; I don't want to seem rude, but could I change out my water for a root beer when you take my order?" You nod, stashing away your notepad. "Just holler when you need me!" You wipe down a table passing the time, humming to yourself when the doorbell jingles again. You look back in curiosity, only to see your husband. You bite the inside of your cheek, a nasty habit when you're worried. You abandon the task at hand, rushing to your husband, worried something could be wrong. "Hey, is everything okay?" You bite your lip nervously as his face scrunches into confusion. "Everything's fine? Why wouldn't it be?" You exhaled deeply, shoulders dropping as the worry melted away. "Sorry, love, I just wasn't expecting a visit from you today. He shakes his head, eyes glancing behind you. You turn your head to meet what had his attention. Ah, the nun. "She's been waiting for you, father." The word comes out harsher than you expected, catching him off guard. He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, gently giving it a squeeze. "I'm just here to go over a story she wrote for the paper. She's been bringing in a lot more people to my sermons. You hum in response as you lead him to her booth, ready to take their order. "We'll both take the burger and fries." She answers for the both of them; you jot it down and walk off. You place the ticket in the window, your eyes never leaving their table.

You crossed your arms over your chest, your jaw tightening as your gaze followed their every movement. You knew you had nothing to worry about; she's a nun, but something in you just couldn't help it. You knew your husband was good-looking. His brown, styled-back hair, his piercing dark chocolate eyes that would make anyone melt, topped off with his perfect smile that could make your knees weak with one flash. His voice smooth like honey, you could just listen to him for hours, and below those robes was a perfect body. He truly was just perfect. Your hands fall to your side as you watch her flirt with him, him laughing and flashing that perfect smile. Your fists balled up at your sides, the tension in your knuckles betraying your calm demeanor. But duty calls, and their order is ready. You bring out the hot plates, interrupting the two of them so tangled up in their conversation. "Will that be all for you, sister? Father." You put on a fake smile, so hard you thought you might squeeze out your eyes. "No, this is perfect." You give her a nod and walk off, not acknowledging your husband. You have to remind yourself not to worry; he's married to you. Charlie was your strength, but also your weakness. You refuse to lose him.

You try to distract yourself by finishing up your shift; as soon as the clock strikes four, you toss off your apron and storm out of the diner, not even giving him a second glance. He knew he was in for it when he got home. You pull up to your home, nothing fancy; walking in you toss your keys on the counter and toss off your uniform, slipping into a robe. Time to decompress the day away until you hear a car screech into your driveway. Fuck. Charlie storms in, nose flared as he stalks towards you. You cross your arms, staring him down, daring him to say something stupid. "She's a fucking nun, Y/N. She has vows to honor." You take a step towards him, placing your pointer finger against his chest. "Yeah? Did you see the way she was looking at you, practically eye-fucking you? Just because she's a nun doesn't mean she wouldn't think about it." His jaw clenches as you stare at him, not giving in easily this time. He stares down at you, eyes piercing into your soul, when his hand reaches up, gripping your jaw. "I'm going to fix this little problem of yours, yeah?" His voice soft, the embodiment of calm. You raise your brows, a smirk tugging at your lips. "On your knees, now." Without a second thought, you slowly fall down to your knees; he leans down, his grip never leaving your jaw. His thumb pulls down your bottom lip, hunger burning with every touch. "Such a jealous fucking girl. I'm going to show you; I'm all yours."

————————————————————————

Tag list: @nicholaschavezslut69

[writing-whenever-whatever]

Little song bird - as our future empress 

Emperor geta x emperor Caracalla x reader 

Part 1 part 2 part 3

Summary: After the romans invade your home you’re father sets up an alliance with the twin emperors they will marry you and gain the land and titles to your name once your father has past little did you know how much you’d enjoy Rome 

Warning: Threats, no smut in this part sorry xx , arranged marriage not proof read 

———————————————————————

After Caracalla and geta took the role of emperor after the death of their father there was no surprise to the sudden change in Rome. 

Geta wanted success and victory he wanted to win every battle his army fought without thinking of the consequences, while his brother Caracalla wanted what rome would describe as chaos but he would call it happiness. While both boys lusted over the blood shed of the coliseum and hated the time spent with the boring men of the senate, who blabbered on and on about the importance of the peoples support, as if both boys were ignorant. 

 if there was one thing to know about the emperors it was that they may be young but they aren’t foolish. They know what the people wanted, they wanted Rome to be successful and to do that that meant war, many of the lower class despised the emperors love for violence but little did they know how necessary it was to protect everyone in the Roman Empire from harm. 

———————————————————————

For the last month my home has been  invaded by Romans innocent people are being slaughtered like rats in the streets their families left weeping over their corpses. Finally my father had had enough. my father, the leader of our land , took the responsibility to meet with the general Acacius to negotiate. they sit at a round table facing each other as I sit next to my father a little behind him, silently as the men speak picking at the bowl of fruit that was placed between them trying to be as civil as possible. 

“ general Acacius I wish to request an alliance to stop this invasion and to prevent further tragedy” my father places his elbows on the table resting his head in his hands “ an alliance?“ the general scoffs looking my father up and down “ and what do you have to give the emperors Geta and Caracalla that they do not already have“ he raises his eye brow trying not to laugh “ I wish to present my daughter to them” 

I look up at him my mouth opening slightly as if I want to protest yet as I lean forward to speak my father glares at me a cruil look spreading across his face “ and what would the emperors do with your daughter they have enough whores around the palace as it is “ the general says smugly taking in the expression on my face “ not as a whore general, as a wife” he leans back resting his hand ontop of mine as the general stares at me “ what qualities does your daughter hold that will benefit the Roman Empire” he sits up looking at us more intently “ she is my only blood and when I pass my titles will pass down to the man who marries her” he looks at me running his thumb over the back of my hand a smile on his face as the general stands “very well, we shall bring your daughter to Rome” he smirks looking at me as he walks over holding his arm out for me to take I push it away standing up on my own “ I do not need your help to stand general I have legs” I look up at him smiling sarcastically 

“ have your servants pack her things, then we’ll be on our way. it’ll take several days to travel to Rome so it’s best we leave as soon as possible “ he looks at my father as he nods then turning back to me his voice rough and stern“ say your goodbyes” I bend down placing a kiss on my fathers cheek whispering in his ear as I hug him “ you shall be damned in hell for what you’ve done to me” his face falls to a concerned look as I stand back up giggling as I walk away through the doors and to the chariot waiting outside. 

As I sit in the chariot waiting the general comes and joins me “ don’t you have anyone else to say goodbye to “ he asks his voice gentler than before “ no. I have no friends, no siblings, no mother. tis just I and father” he leans forward resting his calloused hands on mine I pull back slightly scowling “ do you not want to spend more time with him to say goodbye “ I shake my head “ why would I want to do that I’ve spent 17 years with that man and he’s been nothing but hateful.” He looks at me shocked as I sit back in my seat staring out the window . “this is the last straw he has damed me ” the general shakes his head his eyes soft and caring as he looks at me as if I’m his own daughter “ why do you think that? Rome can be a place of growth “ I smile baring sharp teeth as a chuckle escapes my lips “ do not lie to me general. I have heard of your emperors ” he sighs looking at me “ I know you do not deserve this. but this can lead to great opportunities for you, you’ll be powerfully by their side” I look down as my bags are packed into the chariot “ I won’t believe you till it happens “ i turn to look out the window again as the chariot finally starts moving I watch as my home slowly moves further into the distance. 

———————————————————————

Days pass and I’ve been sat uncomfortably in the chariot the whole journey I have my head rested against the window as I sleep peacefully. The chariot suddenly pulls to a violent halt causing me to fall forward out my seat I wake up sitting up on the floor my hear messy in my face as I sit up holding my head “ welcome to Rome” general Acacius smiles at me as I move back into my seat “ you could have woken me” I grumble running my hands though my hair pushing it behind my ear as the doors of the chariot opens. 

 the light beaming through the door the general walks out holding out his arm for me I take it holding onto it for support as we exit. seeing the streets of Rome for the first time is overwhelming hearing the cheers of the people and the buildings that tower over everything I stare around completely stunned as I hold onto Acacius arm tighter he pulls us forward walking towards the steps to a large temple like building where millions of guards stand holding swords and weapons ready to defend as two pale men stand together grinning down at us as we start to draw closer, children run up to the general throwing rose petals at his feet I sigh holding his arm tighter “ are things always like this” I ask raising my eyebrow as he nods his head at me his lips making a thin line as we get closer. 

 As we finally reach the top of the steps both emperors stare down at me with a predatory look in thier eyes I look up at them bowing slightly ” it is great to be in your presence emperors “ I rise myself up looking up at them “we hope your journey wasn’t to uncomfortable and wish to welcome you to Rome” geta says a smile smeared across his face as he holds out an arm to me, I take it my grip gentle as Caracalla takes my other arm. They turn and start to walk into thier home holding me between them as if I’m already theirs “ we hear that your father wishes you to marry us do we hear correct” Caracalla questions me his golden tooth twinkling in the sun as his lips curl up “ you have heard right emperor, my father wishes for an alliance to stop the war and give you both a claim to our titles “ I look up at them both they both seem glossed over as if under some sort of spell “ you are quite the beauty, for a lady from such a savage place” geta  pulls me out of his brothers grip twirling me around taking in every inch of my figure.

 I watch as both brothers exchanged a predatory look as I stumbled slightly going dizzy Caracalla catches me holding me up “ don’t fall silly we would want you to get hurt” he chuckles as I look up at him “ thank you emperor” my face flushed from embarrassment. As I get stable on my feet again I turn around looking at Caracalla smiling sweetly at him “ from what I’ve seen from Rome it’s incredible “ get tilts his head “ you’ve seen very little of Rome yet you’re already fascinated by it” he chuckles looking at me “ brother we should take her to watch the Colosseum” his eyes appear darker as Geta walks over to him whispering into his ear through gritted teeth. “ it can wait till we are married we don’t want to scare her off” Caracalla pulls away from his brother nodding looking down slightly less confident with himself as I look over at them smiling sweetly. 

“ you must be exhausted “ geta rests his hand on my shoulder “ we shall get someone to draw you a bath then escort you to your room to rest we have a dinner arrangement tonight to celebrate your arrival in Rome and our marriage arrangement” he smiles down at me as I nod “ thank you emperors you are both too kind” a smug look crosses their faces as a servant rushes over whispering something into getas ear that causes his hands to form fists “ we must go something needs our attention, we shall leave you in the care of this servant “ I nod bowing slightly as they walk away. 

I look at the servant a small smile on my face not realising the fact  they refuse to make eye contact with me “ come along my lady, I shall assist you in your bathing” she guides me towards a large room full of baths of steaming water I look down into the bubbly water as the servant helps takes off my clothes “ how long have you worked for the emperors” I ask curiously trying to initiate conversation, but this only seems to make her more anxious, her breath  halts as she final looks up at me her eyes full of terror “ I-i was born here, i-i s-started serving at the age of 12” I sit on the edge of the bath listening splashing the water with my feet a teasing smile on my face as I look up at here “ you seem frightened” I giggle laying my head back on the cold mosaic tiles that decorate the floor my hair sprawling out like a hallo 

“ the emperors are strict with what they want you to know” she stammers her hands trembling “ there’s no need to be frightened “ I reach my hand out resting it on hers gently she goes quiet as she looks at me she leans in her voice a whisper “ my lady you must be careful here, keep them happy. I fear what will happen other wise” my eyes widen at her suddenly statement “I will do what I want if that will be a problem they can tell me their selves” I snap finally sinking the rest of my body into the hot bath. The rest of the time I spend scilently ignoring the servant who stands watching me scrub my skin with sweet smelling oils cleaning away the dirt of my journey. 

Once I’ve finished cleaning myself I sink under the water letting my head fall under  small bubbles escape up to the surface from my nose and mouth as I open my eyes letting the water flow around me i suddenly here a splash as someone jumps in pulling me up to the surface I blink a few times coughing as a guard comes into my vision “ I was perfectly fine sir “ I grumble wiping the water out of my eyes as I cough “ what were you trying to do drown yourself “ he glares down at me his armour soaked I look up at him a small smirk climbing onto my face “ more like trying to drown out my thoughts “ he lifts me to the side of the bath sitting me there as he climbs out “ sounds like the same thing to me” he wraps a towel around my shoulders 

as the servant comes closer to me trying to dry me off I push her away standing up “ I can do it my self I do not need the help from someone who sees me as weak” I glare at her drying my body off quickly and platting my hair into a long braid “ my lady please let me assist you the emperors instructed me to help” she begs as she gets closer to me again her hands reached out to try to take the towel “ I said no do not touch me or I’ll scream” as I wrap the towel around me I stand up “ you may assist me by either getting me clothes or taking me to my room that is all” she looks at me nodding as she rushes off to get me something to wear. 

I sit back down my feet sitting in the water again as I take a deep breath calming myself as I rest my head in my hands “ does she offend you my lady” the guard asks sitting next to me I look up at him shaking my head “ I’m just exhausted and I’m extremely tired of being lectured like a child” I look up as she comes back with a deep blue and gold tunic that goes down to the floor my eyes light up slightly as I get up “ this is beautiful “ I run my hand over the expressive silk “ I’m glad you like it my lady emperor Geta chose it himself for you” the servant looks at me nervous as she talks “ I love it “ I smile as I slip it on it drapes over my figure perfectly fitting my body beautifully “ they agreed if Geta chose the outfit Caracalla would do the jewellery” she adds “ but if you wish to rest for now they can wait “ I shake my head “ no no I must see it now “ I smile more my teeth grinning together “ very well my lady come along” I follow her the long tunic dragging along the floor behind me as we make our way towards the bed quarters.

We enter a large room with extreme decorative elements across the room, gold draped across the walls and furniture as I look around excitement fills me more “ this will be your bed quarters my lady” she looks over at me “ I hope it’s to your liking “ I nod feeling speechless as I sit in the edge of the sofa taking it all in. 

The door suddenly swings open and both emperors walk in “ ah there you are” Geta smiles as he gets closers seeing me in the extravagant outfit he chose “ and don’t you look gorgeous “ he takes in how the clothes hugs my figure then turning to his brother a smug expression on his face “ where’s her jewellery “ Caracalla snaps looking at the servant “ I told you what jewellery I wanted on her” he glares “ she was just about to put some in me, we got caught up in chatting tis all” I smile sweetly as his hash expression fades away turning soft as he looks at me. 

The servant picks up the extravagant gold jewellery scattered in sapphires to match the blue dress I gasp looking at it “ this is beautiful emperor Caracalla “ he looks at his brother sticking his tongue out childishly as he moves to sit next to me on the bed “ it was chosen specifically for you my love” I blush violently as I look at him “ you both seem to know me so well already” I giggle looking in the mirror as the necklace is fastened around my neck bangles wrapped around my wrists and rings placed on every finger “ you both spoil me so” I look at them both “ you deserve it as our empress to be” Geta rests his hand on top of mine his touch surprisingly gentle as if he’s scared I’d break beneath his hand. 

“ we wanted to inform you we’re having a dinner party tonight with some friends and some members of the senate “ Caracalla looks at me smile “ we wanted it to be an opportunity for you to meet some people “ geta strokes the back of my hand gently “ that’s will be quite lovely” I look up at them “ I shall try to be on my best behaviour “ I giggle slightly watching as the brothers look at each other “ we can’t really promise you the same thing” geta chuckles “there’s no need to be behaved you’re our future wife and thier future empress you can do as you please” Caracalla smirks as he runs his hand up my thigh “ with in reason of course “ geta interrupts his brother “ i understand my emperors “ i pull a loose blanket off the back of the sofa pulling it around my shoulders “ would it be alright if i rest a little before the dinner party” i look at them smiling softly a tired look glazing over my eyes “ of course its best you have my energy for our guests “ Geta smiles softly running his hand over my soft flushed cheek “ we will have someone wake you in time” Caracalla adds looking at me as he stands up “ sleep well empress” they smile leaving me in the room as they close the door 

[astarionancuntnin]

Hello! No idea if you’re taking requests, or if they are only Astarion x f!reader, nor how dark you go.

But you think you can write a Gale x f!reader in the third person (Name is just Tav) and Gale is obsessed with having a baby that he and Tav do it every minute even when Tav is asleep?

I'll go as dark as you allow me to go bb (also thank you for your patience oh my god i swear im gonna get through all my requests eventually). fair warning that this is my first Gale fic and i haven't done his romance in game, with that being said-

Silent Night

pairing: gale x tav (fem, not decribed but its implied she looks younger than him by a few years)

rating: E

word count: 3.7k

cw: 18+. smut, mentions of pregnancy, obsessive anxious thoughts, porn with feelings, coercion, unprotected sex, drugging, somnophilia, non-con, breeding kink (and breeding), creampie, using cum as lube, cock soaking, gaslighting, this is a dark one y'all have been warned. full list on ao3.

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

Ever since getting rid of the Absolute, Gale’s life had been exactly how he had pictured it, and that meant spending most of his days lavishing his wife, Tav. Not a day could go by where he and his beloved did not indulge each other. Not only did they spend every single night at it - it was every single moment they had together: out on a picnic date, while they were cooking, when they were snuggled up on the sofa reading - as if their primal urges could never be satisfied.

Especially Gale’s.

After getting married, he had made it his primary goal to make sure his wife was satisfied at all moments and Gods above did he deliver. Truth be told, his drive had only gone up since they discussed their future, and potentially having a family — a child! Gale could hardly believe it; it was one of his wildest dreams and it was now just within reach.

Growing up alone with his mother, he still struggled with the idea of being a father as he feared to not be up to everyone's expectations — moreso Tav’s — but he couldn’t deny how he hoped he could eventually get the chance to be the father he always dreamed of having. Give his mother grandchildren that she could visit, make their friends aunts and uncles, even new company for Tara; finally have a real family of his own.

They had been careful in the past, however. Tav would always drink a potion that acted as contraceptive before doing anything, and it had been Gale's greatest disappointment. Every time, he wished she'd forget or would dismiss it so he could finally have it his way with her.

Thankfully, Tav was interested in the idea, but he noticed her doubts everytime the topic was brought up.

After everything they had gone through and the uncertainty of their future because of it, she had asked for some time to think about it. Make sure they were appropriately settled in — had a house, a stable income, a place secure for a child to grow up — and yes, of course, that was reasonable, but Gale couldn’t keep his mind from picturing her, with her breasts full of milk and rubbing her belly, swollen with their child.

My, what a sight.

It was enough to get him in the mood to put a damned baby in her.

But, Gale was a patient man, he could wait. Surely, she would make up her mind and have a clearer idea soon enough. She wasn’t saying it just to waste her most fertile years away, only to watch the opportunity fly out the window, or waiting for the next best option in terms of partners. They were married, for Gods’ sake, they had vowed to stay together until death did them apart, and after what they had survived, they were assured to live until their old days; they would be together forever.

…Right?

She wouldn’t just leave him now of all time, now that they were safe and secure. She didn’t just stay out of convenience, surely not. She couldn’t have lost interest since their adventure ended and was just looking for a way out — buying her time until she could safely discard him as Mystra had done to him in the past.

Oh Gods… but what if she was?

It’s not like he was getting any younger. If anything, the stress of destroying the absolute had taken a toll on him that must’ve made him age twenty years in the few months alone it had taken them. It only struck him when he gazed upon his beloved, still the very depiction of youth, as opposed to him. She remained beautiful as time passed by and he loved to admire her, but it was a constant reminder that he wasn’t getting any younger, and the orb in his chest hadn’t helped in the matter either. Even if he figured out a way to live longer, a skill he could learn as a wizard, she wouldn't have the chance to be blessed by those same powers Gale had; he would outlive her and he would be left behind — alone.

Again.

She would have every reason to look for someone more younger, who could age with her, and less broken than he was, and the darkest parts of him couldn’t accept this reality — wouldn’t accept it.

It didn’t matter that they were married, or how many times she had reassured him, those same thoughts came back crawling like a pest.

So that night, before heading to bed, Gale prepared Tav's herbal tea as usual: with chamomile, citrus, and honey — just warm enough to be comforting — and a dose of a special potion he took care of obtaining at the market during his errands earlier, just to make sure she would sleep through the night undisturbed.

Such a good husband! The merchant had exclaimed after he had explained his wife was suffering from insomnia. Taking care of his wife and tending to her utmost care, so thoughtful!

Oh, if only they knew.

They explained in detail the exact effects of the potions, and he didn't need further convincing before dropping a pouch of coins on the table and taking off with the magic concoction.

Upon watching his wife drink the tea he had so kindly prepared, Gale could only see how right the merchant had been — Tav wasn't even halfway through her cup that her eyelids grew heavy, her head wouldn't sit straight, and her entire body screamed at her to go rest.

Gale, the caring and loving husband he is, took it upon himself to bring her to bed and lay her down comfortably, still in her night clothes, with her breathing already heavy with sleep. He pushed her hair aside, letting his knuckles brush against the supple skin of her cheek as he took in the sight of her.

His beautiful wife — almost bare as she wore a short, lilac silk nightgown, and a soft pair of lace underwear, one he would eventually remove tonight to finally take what was rightfully his.

It would be preferable if she were awake, of course, but with the way her own doubts had plagued her mind, Gale thought it fair to give her head a vacation. She could rest peacefully, and he could give her a gift she didn’t know she wanted; he would help her see reason this way and she would have no other choice but to accept it if it just happened to her.

It was for the best, for both of them — he had always been careful, always so damned careful, respecting her wishes; what about what he wanted? What about his needs?

To breed her in the dead of night, leave her with a sticky mess between her legs to wake up to, then offer her another round of morning sex to cover up the soreness he would've caused her the night prior so she could stay completely inconspicuous until her sickness shows up and her belly grows swollen with a new life and—

Oh, Gods above, no, what was he thinking?! He couldn’t do this to her — not like this; not when she was asleep, but… Hells, he couldn’t ignore the throbbing erection this vision had given him. The sheer fabric of his underwear rubbing against his cock made him groan; he wouldn't be able to let it go now… And she was right there, out cold, it’s not like she would mind it if he were to just use her a little, right?

He sighed. Fine, just a touch then, just enough to ease the ache.

He let his hand reach down and underneath his underwear, where his fingers wrapped around his length, hard and angry, and he let go of a heavy breath as he pumped himself just once. Once too many, as it only made him more desperate for what could be around his cock instead of his hand.

Just a few strokes, just enough to satisfy my needs so I can go to sleep.

His grip was strong, but he pumped himself slowly as he eyed Tav's sleeping form. His thumb moved to the head of his cock, where he found a bead of pre-come already dripping, calling out for its home that rested between his wife’s legs. He rubbed it against his tip and slid it over his shaft to lubricate himself — hoping to find some relief with his own arousal — but only found himself wishing it were from his beloved, laying right there in front of him.

Gods dammit… Fine — just a touch, then… just a little… touch…

While one hand kept stroking true, his other one found comfort in the softness of her warm breasts. Small compared to what they could be if she were carrying their child, gorged in milk, but nothing short of delicious, as he remembered their taste in his mouth, his tongue circling around her plump nipple…

Oh, the taste of her–

As she moved in her sleep, he let go, afraid that he had woken her up, only for her to have simply slightly moved her legs apart, naturally lifting her nightgown up above her thighs and allowing Gale a clear view over her beautifully wrapped entrance — all of this without him needing to even lift a finger.

He chuckled nervously, thinking only for a moment she might have been awakened by his lewd touches. Still, she remained unconscious, and he remained painfully aroused by the sight of her barely covered cunt, with her legs wide open. She was right there, ready for the picking, just for him.

Hells, why was he second guessing himself, he had already spiked her tea, it's not like she would know either way; in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

Okay, okay, just a finger, just to pick up her moist and apply it over myself. That's all I need. Nothing more.

He pulled her legs together, just to slide her underwear off, only to be hit with the scent of her arousal completely coating the silk he had pulled away from her entrance.

By the Gods, my love. You're positively soaked. What have you been dreaming of, I wonder?

He brought her underwear to his nose, breathing in her aroma, and a shiver ran down his spine as he let his thoughts wander once again to his original plan. As he looked back to her, legs spread open and slit glistening wet, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind anymore; by the time he would be done with her, her womb would finally be claimed by his potent seed, and she would bear his child whether she wanted to or not.

Hells, forget the finger, I must taste you.

Letting go of his night robe and sliding down his underwear completely, he crawled over the bed and between her legs, settling comfortably with his face right besides the warmth at the apex of her thighs. He wrapped one arm around her soft thigh, while the other hand slid up to her wet slit, squeezing her puffy lips to push her juices out and admiring it drip over their bedsheets.

“Heavens above, my love,” he whispered against her cunt, his low, raspy voice carrying the lust he was done denying himself. “You look simply delicious.”

Bringing his face closer, he pulled his tongue out and pressed it flat against her entrance, swiping up along her slick ever so slowly to collect her essence. A shudder ran down his spine at her taste as he swallowed down her juices.

He murmured, against her core, “Not even the Gods could rival your taste, my heart.”

Using his thumb and finger just below her clit, he spread open her lips to expose her fully to him; pussy wet and enlarged by her arousal, almost as if she knew he was there, as if she subconsciously liked it.

Wanted it.

He breathed heavily over her slit, his mind hazy with lust as he finally dipped his tongue deeper into her folds, working his skilled tongue in and out of her. He took his time to collect her arousal in his mouth and tasted everything she had to offer him; he wanted to please her more than anything else, even as she slept through it all. His tongue circled around her clit and his mouth latched onto it to suckle, until he felt her reaching her first orgasm as she whined faintly in her sleep and her legs twitched — but she remained unconscious through it all, allowing Gale to eat and drink his fill of her.

Pulling back with his chin coated in her essence, he licked his lips with a smile. If this continued to go just as well, he would need to go back to the seller to thank them again.

Satisfied with her taste, and with his cock practically begging for her as he had smeared the bedsheets with his precome, he sat up on his knees and lifted her legs to bring them up and around his waist, then pressed his length over her cunt with a breathy sigh.

“There, there,” he purred as he rubbed his cock along her flushed and wet lips. “That’s a good girl, lying still for her husband. I just need a bit of you, love; you can rest. Just be good for me.”

If there was any doubt of her arousal, now it couldn't be ignored. Despite Gale’s assault of his mouth on her and the certitude he had drank every drop of her come as she climaxed in her sleep, a faint line of her juices dripped down from her entrance as he coated himself with her wet and stained the bed just below them.

I'll just slide the tip of my cock against her entrance, just enough to feel her— Gods, I need to feel her warmth.

No bed sheets or underwear in the way between her and him anymore, which made it all the more simple for him to align her waist with his and push her legs apart as he leaned against her with his arms on each side of her head. His length easily found its way around her warm lips, as he slid between them.

So very soaked for me, fuck— so wet and warm. Just stay like that love, your husband just needs you a little more.

Carefully moving his hips back, he pushed his tips against her entrance, and it didn’t take him long to come to a dreadful realization.

I can't wait any longer — I need this, please forgive me, Gods, I need this.

Slowly, he pushed himself all the way inside of her, and a broken gasp escaped his throat as he hit the end of her channel, filling her completely with his cock. Despite having completely sunk inside of her depths, it still wasn’t enough. He would only be satisfied when she would be filled to the brim with his seed, burst after burst of his cock spilling inside of her until she was leaking with his cum.

He picked up a rhythm — slow and careful at first — but it quickly fastened as he lost himself in the feeling of her tight walls around him, squeezing him even as she was sleeping.

“You little vixen–” he whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke to her as if she were conscious. “Ahhh… Just take it, take it for me. That's right, just like that… Oh, you little tease— you've wanted me to do this, haven't you? Have your husband come and fuck a baby into you as you slept? Are you truly this depraved, love? Are you this much of a whore for your lover?”

As she turned her head around and her arms moved up to touch his chest, Gale thought of the worst right away and slowed down his thrusts once more, but never stopped completely; he couldn’t find the strength within himself to stop now that he had gone this far.

He brought a hand up to softly cup her face and stroke her cheek, “Shhh, please don't make me do this, please, my love.” He whispered, pleading. “Don't fight it, just let it happen, you were doing so well.”

She whimpered, either from a nightmare or the potion wearing off, and brought her floppy arms up to weakly push against Gale's chest. Asleep or not, he couldn't allow her to try and stop him, not now. He picked her wrists and pinned her to their bed as he picked his rhythm back up, pounding into her.

“None of this now, dearest,” he growled. “Your husband is fulfilling his rightful duties to you, and I know you want this, your cunt has been begging me to put a baby inside of you for weeks now. This is for your own good; our own good— fuck—”

When her eyes began to flutter open and she mumbled his name half-asleep, he didn’t need to think twice before casting a sleep spell on her to make sure she would remain calm and docile. He wouldn’t back down now, the best he could do was minimize the damage on her.

His head fell forward, with strands of his hair falling from his messy bun to cover his face and tickle hers.

“I'm sorry my heart,” he pleaded as she slept through his assault, and he wasn't sure anymore if he tried to convince her or himself the most. “You gave me no other choice, I need to take you tonight. I need to make you mine and mine alone. It's for your own good, I promise.”

As if his words had slipped past the veil of her consciousness the moment those words left his lips, he felt her cunt clench around him.

“Oh Gods, even asleep your cunt wraps so tightly around my cock.” He moaned, biting his lips to muffle the desperate sounds fighting to leave his lips. “It's okay, you don't need to use that little head of yours, your body speaks for itself with how it's milking me.”

He wrapped her legs back around his waist and cast mage hands to keep them locked in his back. There was only one way tonight was ending, and he wasn't going to back away until his job here was done.

Despite the sleeping spell and the potion, Tav whimpered as Gale fucked into her recklessly, with a rhythm nearly desperate.

“Fuck, you moan so prettily when you take my cock, I might just burst yet—”

His thrusts started to become sloppy, losing his clean rhythm to replace it by one borderline animalistic as he pressed himself wholly against her body, her breast crushed against his chest with each push of his hips. In the dead of this warm, silent night, the only sounds keeping them company were the sloppy splashes of his hips against hers, his balls slapping against her tight little asshole, and his breathy moans that grew only louder and out of control, barely noticing just how loud he was getting.

“Please let me give you the life we deserve,” he begged, not caring for the sound of his voice anymore. “Let me breed you, bear my children, make me a father– fuck!”

His body pinned Tav down, his cock completely buried into her as he spilled himself in the depths of her womb. With his concentration faltering, she started whining through her sleep spell as if she had fought through it to wake up. With his cock still pulsing his white, hot come inside of her, he brought his lips over hers to muffle her sounds with a one sided kiss.

“Shhh, it’s okay my love, it’s over. You’re okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you. Shhhh…” Gale ushered in her ear as he kept his body pressed against hers, his breath hot against her skin, and brushed away the hair from her face. “Let’s just stay like this for a moment. I need… I need this.”

He stayed inside of her for a few long minutes, until his breath came back to him and his cock went soft inside of her, only then allowing himself to pull out and lay back next to her; it was all too soon when he lost the warmth of her walls around him, and even soft, he knew his cock was missing it's home as it rested sadly over his belly in a puddle of his cum and her essence.

Making sure to avoid any doubt from her, he got up to slip his briefs and her panties back on before sliding back into bed and pulling the covers over both of them, then turned away to pretend to be sleeping. As he finally broke the concentration on his spell, Tav slowly woke up to a sweaty, but very much seemingly asleep Gale.

She shook his arm to take him out of his daze, “Gale? Gale… wake up!”

He turned around as if just woken up, “Gods, Tav,” he mumbled, feigning his fatigue. “What time is it?”

“Did you…” Her voice is sleepy and confused. “Did you fuck me while I was asleep?”

“What?” He exclaimed, raising himself up on his elbows and rubbing his eyes. “Gods, love, who do you take me for? I would never impose myself onto you like that, you must've had a nightmare. Are you quite alright? Come here–”

He brought the back of his hand to rest over her forehead, as if to check her temperature, and pulled back with a worried look.

“Poor thing — you're burning.” He brought her head to rest over his chest as he pet her head, trying to soothe her back to sleep. “Hush now, you're safe, I've got you. Shhh… You’re okay…”

Within minutes, if not seconds later, she slipped back into a restful sleep, with her head moving to the beat of his chest rising, and Gale couldn't help but admire her, chasing away the guilt of his actions as he realized the necessity of it.

The faint light of the rising sun exposed the glistening laying between her legs and pooling over the bedsheets past her panties, and he instinctively licked his lips at the mere thought of it.

Now, there would be no doubt in their future, only a certitude swirling around in his mind.

In time, she will be the most amazing and caring mother.

He just knows it.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

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