#Petal expect me in your dms <3

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

The Gift

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Virgin f!Reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: Period typical sexism and treatment of women, period-typical ideas of virginity and virtue, Marcus is a bit rude at first but he comes around quickly, attempted assault that is heavily implied to be sexual, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, wound care, yearning, virginity loss, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex, mushy endings :)

Summary: The Emperor of Rome has given his most valued General, Marcus Acacius, a generous gift after his recent successful battle. Rather than the gold he’s hoping for, Marcus is stunned when a young virgin is delivered to his chambers. At first, he refuses to entertain the idea of stealing the virtue of a scared girl, but their lives become entwined when he learns that refusing his ‘gift’ puts her in even more danger…

A/N: The art in the header is by @norththelemon and is inspired by Paulo and Virginia by Alessandro Puttinati. Thank you so much for letting me use this artwork for my fic!!! <3 The artwork does not necessarily reflect the appearance of the reader character; rather, it is a reflection of the original artwork. The only physical description I included of reader is that she has long, curly hair (color and texture are never mentioned). Marcus’s pet name for her, bellatora, very loosely translates to “little warrior.” Thank you to the lovely @leslie-lyman for the beta! **NOTE: as attempted SA can be triggering to some people, I have separated out this section with asterisks (******). You can quickly skip this scene and you will not miss any significant plot. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to send me a DM! Be safe <3

Masterlist

Marcus rides through the streets of Rome, the cheers of citizens ringing in his ears and the white petals being thrown from above him sticking in his curls. The populus is joyful, but he cannot help but think of the cost of the battle, about the sons and husbands who he knows are not returning home.

He longs for a bath, to wash the grime, dirt and blood from his body. He longs to strip off the heavy, soiled armor and lay down on his bed, naked and warm and full of bread and wine, and sleep for several days.

First, however, he must endure the long procession up to the palace, where the Emperor was surely waiting for him–where he would have to play all the little games that come with positions of power: smile, nod, say the right words and act in the ways that other people expect of a General.

The horse whinnies nervously as the cacophony swells, and Marcus gently pats its neck, sending a cascade of petals to the ground to be trodden underfoot by so many hooves.

The Emperor waits at the top of the Palace steps, surrounded by all of his court and Roman nobility. Without allowing any of the contempt he feels to show on his face, Marcus Acacius dismounts from the horse and slowly ascends the marble stairs. When he reaches the top, the Emperor pulls him into an exaggerated hug, slapping his back and cheering loudly enough for the onlookers to hear.

“Congratulations to you, my friend, for your triumph and victory over the vanquished,” the man booms, slapping Marcus's pauldron again for good measure and causing another great cheer to rise up from the crowd.

Marcus does not say anything, but he turns to face the onlookers and unsheathes his sword, raising it over his head victoriously, knowing that's what they all want him to do. The resulting din seems to rattle the very stones of the palace.

“You must be weary, good soldier,” the Emperor tells him. “Go now and rest. A gift will be sent to your chambers to show your Emperor’s appreciation for your prowess in battle.”

Marcus nods and bows deeply, indicating his gratitude for his Lord's generosity. He's most thankful, however, for the quick dismissal.

The General’s quarters in the palace are spacious and outfitted with all modern amenities Marcus could ever think to ask for. He quickly lights a fire under the basin to begin heating water for a bath. He begins removing his armor, leaving it by the door where he knows it will be collected for cleaning and polishing. He discards the filthy underclothing and retrieves a clean cloth with which to wash.

It is only now that Marcus is able to take sock tock of his injuries; as the grime is wiped clean from his body, he can finally see where the blood was his, and where the blood was not his. His arms are peppered with bruises and superficial wounds, but nothing that requires any dressing. 

He is lucky. 

Marcus dresses in loose robes, luxuriating in the feeling of being free and unencumbered by his armor. With a deep, satisfied sigh, he settles himself down on the bed, surrounded by the ornate pillows that come with Palace trappings, and closes his eyes.

They’ve barely been closed for a few minutes when a knock sounds at the door. 

Marcus frowns. All his joints and muscles protest when he reluctantly rises from the bed again and opens the door. He’s greeted by one of the Emperor’s personal guard, who is roughly holding the upper arm of a young girl.

“What is the meaning of this?” Marcus asks hesitantly, taking in the girl’s simple, white shift that clings to her breasts and hips, her trembling lips, and her wide, terrified eyes.

“The Emperor, in his generosity, presents you with this virgin as reward for your duty to Rome,” the guard announces. He pushes the girl forward into Marcus’s chambers and shuts the door behind him.  

“What in the Gods’...” the General murmurs under his breath as you are shoved unceremoniously into the room.

You curtsy deeply, remembering, despite your fear, what you have been instructed to do. “M-My Lord,” you whisper through trembling lips. You can only stare at the floor, unable to look at the man to whom you have been gifted.

“I had been hoping for gold,” the man grumbles. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

He sounds angry. This terrifies you more.

“I am f-for your… p-pleasure,” you try to explain. “My Lord.” You deepen the curtsy, until your knees nearly scrape the floor. If you please him, perhaps he will not be unkind.

“Stop that. Get up.” the man snaps. “I’m not in the mood for deflowering virgins.”

“S-Sir?” You don’t understand. You weren’t prepared for the man to say no. You were bathed, dressed, and told that you were to be a gift for a mighty general. You were to please him, let him bed you, and serve him until he tired of you. You were instructed to kneel, to address him as only “My Lord,” and to do whatever he asked of you. Only then would the debt your father owed to the Emperor be paid in full. 

You were not given instructions on what to do if the General refused his gift.

“D-Do I not please My Lord?” you try again. Terrified of being turned away, sent back to your father, where they’d surely kill you both, you begin to cry.

“By the Gods–stop, come here,” the General says, sounding exasperated. He gently leads you to a chair and indicates you should sit. You do. He crouches on his heels so that your heads are level, and examines you. “Who are you, girl?”

“I… am the only daughter of Proculus Opilio,” you sniffle. “I am a gift for his Lord’s pleasure.”

The man’s fingers take hold of your chin; his hands are gentle as he guides your eyes up to his. “Why are you a gift,” he presses.

“M-My family owes a great debt,” you whisper. “I am to be payment for our transgressions against the Emperor.”

“The Emperor sends me a frightened child,” the man growls as he quickly stands and paces away from you, “and calls it a gift.”

“You must accept,” you say frantically, hopping up from your seat and following him. “They will know if you do not, and we will be punished for it.”

The general scoffs. “What, they intend on checking?” he asks, as if such a thing is too ridiculous to be spoken aloud.

“Yes,” you whisper. They told you as such.

“Girl,” he says sternly. “I am not going to enact such violence on a scared child.”

“I am not a child,” you argue, sticking your chin up. “I have seen nineteen summers, almost twenty.”

The General seems to find this funny. He huffs, shaking his head and turning away. “Go home, girl.”

“I cannot go home,” you say, and start to cry again. 

“Stop. Stop,” the man entreats. He turns toward you again and cages your face in his hands, rubbing the tears away with his thumbs. “Okay. Do not worry, I will… Gods, I will help. You and your family will come to no harm.”

“Thank you,” you say emphatically, your hands coming up to your shoulders in preparation to unclasp your shift.

“No! Stop!” You freeze again, eyes wide.

The General softens, and gentles his words. “Please stop. I am weary from battle and I need to sleep. Please… let us both rest, and after that we may discuss this with level heads.”

“Of course, My Lord,” you nod, curtsying again. 

“Marcus.”

“...My Lord?”

“Call me Marcus. I am no Lord.”

“As you wish, My Lord.” It comes out automatically.

The General–Marcus–raises one eyebrow.

“...Marcus.” You watch as the man pads over to the bed and collapses onto it with a heavy sigh. 

“You may sleep here, you may sleep elsewhere, it does not concern me,” he mumbles, eyes already closed. “I am not long for this world and will be unconscious for quite some time, I imagine.”

His words are correct; within a matter of minutes the man is snoring. 

Alone and scared, you sink back down into the chair, and begin to cry again.

Marcus wakes with something tickling his nose. Opening his eyes, he’s greeted by a mass of curls on his pillow, framing the angelic face of… 

Oh.

He had forgotten about you. At some point, you had clearly decided to sleep as well, because you are curled up next to him, your hands clasped under your chin and your lips slightly parted in sleep. This is the first time he’s seen your face not terrified, and he realizes that you are really quite beautiful.

He does not know what to do with you. 

Marcus has never had a shortage of willing partners, and he is uninterested in the alternative. You are pretty, young, and soft, but he is not the sort of man to force himself on a woman. Even if you did ask him in no uncertain terms to do so, it would not be for the right reasons. 

He needs to find a way out of this situation, ideally with his life, your life, and the lives of your family still intact; he did not wade through the blood and mire of battlefield just to condemn an innocent woman to death.

“Girl,” he says lowly, and your eyes open quickly. They go wide at his proximity, and you scramble back a few inches, creating more space between you.

“H-Hello,” you greet him shakily. 

“Good morn,” he replies. “How are you feeling?”

“Well-rested, My Lo–Marcus.” You offer him a small, timid smile. 

Marcus glances toward the window. “It must be almost midday,” he says, noticing the angle of the sun. He’d fallen asleep yesterday in the late afternoon, slept all night, and through the morning. He hopes you did the same. 

“I am famished.” He gets up from the bed–Gods, his muscles still ache–and pads toward the door to his chambers. “With any luck, this morning’s breakfast will still be outside.” 

It feels like the only act of providence that has happened since his return to the Palace that the breakfast tray is still there, laden with fresh bread and fruit. He carries it inside and sets it on the small table in his chambers. He grabs a piece of bread with one hand and beckons you over with the other, too hungry to be polite and wait for you before tearing a piece off with his teeth. He finishes the bread in a few bites, but you still stand near the bed, unmoving and watching him with wary eyes.

“Come. Eat.” Marcus grabs another piece of bread and a handful of grapes. 

Hesitantly, you approach the table, looking like a wild animal unsure of whether the human offering you food can be trusted.

“I do not bite, girl,” he grumbles. 

You snatch a loaf off of the table and retreat backwards a couple of paces, breaking off small pieces and popping them into your mouth as you continue to stare at him. 

“What will you do with me?” you ask.

“Do with you?” Marcus laughs humorlessly. “Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” you repeat, beginning to sound angry. Good. Marcus would rather you be anything but the timid, scared girl that was shoved into his chambers. “So you would condemn my family to death?”

“I am not going to take an unwilling woman to bed,” he growls, taking more grapes from the tray and popping them into his mouth. 

“Most people would do far worse to save the life of a loved one,” you argue. 

Marcus scoffs. “I’ve seen and done things you could not imagine, girl. If losing your maidenhood is the worst thing you can conceive of–”

“It is not,” you snap, stamping your foot in a show of exasperated petulance. “If you are not going to help me, then… I—I hope the gods curse you!” you finish lamely. You spin on your heels and retreat to the corner of his room, sitting down on a chair and crossing your arms with a huff. 

Marcus closes his eyes. He is being too harsh with her, too cruel. He has spent too long shouting orders at his men of late, and not enough time offering comfort or kind words. He grimaces and approaches you with caution. You glare at him, and he doesn’t blame you, but he slowly sinks to his knees in front of you before speaking.

“I have been unkind,” he says softly. “Please forgive my rudeness.”

He watches as your pretty eyes narrow, then widen, then narrow again as a number of emotions seem to flicker across your face. Your lips part, but you don’t respond, and Marcus forges on.

“I did not ask to be put in this situation, and neither did you. I made a promise to you last night that you and your family will come to no harm, but we must work together to keep you safe.”

“Would it not be easier to simply take your ‘gift’?” you sniffle, jutting your chin out and trying–unsuccessfully, he thinks to himself–to be brave.

Marcus chuckles softly, reaching forward and gently grasping both of your hands. “I have committed enough violence in the name of Emperor and Country to last a man several lifetimes. I may not have been as kind as I should have been to you, but I will not take the innocence of a scared girl who is being used as a pawn in the evil games of powerful men.”

You sniffle again, wiping your nose on the back of one hand. “Sometimes I wish I could just be free of this cursed ‘gift’ of innocence and lose all value to men like that.”

Marcus huffs in amusement. “Do you, now?”

You sigh, turning and looking out of the window. “How nice it would be to be valued for other qualities, instead,” you murmur, speaking more to yourself than to him. When you turn back to look at him, you ask, “How will you–we–subvert the wishes of the Emperor himself?”

Ah. He was rather hoping you wouldn’t ask, at least not yet. Truthfully, he has no idea; all he can really hope to do is attempt to sway the Emperor in some way, or at the very least, buy him some time. 

“I will request an audience,” Marcus tells you. “I must go soon to debrief with the other generals, and he will be in attendance. I will speak to him, garner favor…” he trails off, knowing how vague and uncertain he sounds. 

“You would really take such a risk for me…?” you ask hesitantly. 

“The Emperor, in his wisdom, has bestowed upon me a gift,” Marcus says sardonically. “And as I see it, that gift is now mine, and is under my protection.” He gently cups your cheek, letting his palm rest against the slightly damp skin. “We will use his… generosity… to our advantage.”

He stands, letting his fingers trail across your jaw before pulling his hand back. “I must go. Do not open the door to anyone while I am gone.”

In the General’s absence, you finish off the rest of the breakfast tray, which was plentiful. With a full belly, you wander around the man’s chambers, exploring the space that will also be yours for the foreseeable future. You wash in the basin, splashing cool water on your face and sighing in relief. For the first time in over a day, you are finally able to breathe and take stock of your situation.

You should be grateful, really. The General Marcus, although gruff and tactless at times, seems to be a caring, even kind man. You believe him when he says he will protect you, protect your family, even though you have nothing to give him in return. Nothing he wishes to take, at any rate. 

Your eyes fall on an ornate dagger sitting on a table near the window, and you cannot help but think of the way his hands–the same hands that would fiercely wield a weapon to slice through skin and bone–so gently touched your face. 

A loud knock on the door to Marcus’s chambers startles him out of your reverie. A soft noise of surprise escapes you before you are able to clap your hand over your mouth to stifle it. You can tell that whoever is on the other side of the door has heard you, because they pause, listening, and then knock again.

The handle rattles as someone on the other side turns it back and forth, testing the strength of the lock, and your heart pounds with trepidation. 

They cannot get in. They cannot get in. They cannot get in. You repeat the phrase over and over in your head, but then you hear the distinct click as the lock is bypassed or picked, and the door swings wide.

“Well, well, well,” a man in ornate robes sneers. “It appears the rumors are true.”

**********************************

Another man in similar garb pushes past him. “Our beloved general has a new toy.” The words are dripping in sarcasm.

You back up against the wall, and the table next to you rattles when you bump it with your hip. Quickly, you pick up the dagger and point it at the intruders.

Both men guffaw loudly, slapping their knees and shoving each others’ shoulders in their apparent mirth. “She has teeth, she does!” one of them jeers.

“Tell us, did you bite the General when he stuck you?”

The men lunge forward, and you slash with the blade. One of them howls, clutching at his arm, where red is already beginning to well up between his fingers, but you are unused to wielding weapons and the second man rips it from your grasp easily.

“You little bitch,” the injured one spits, and slaps you, hard, with his good hand, the blood from his injury splashing your face and your white robes. You crumple in an instant, clutching your cheek, as the two men close in.

“I bet she squeals nice and loud,” one of them growls menacingly as he reaches for you.

*************************************

A loud bang from behind the men makes them startle. You look for the source, and see the General standing in the doorway with fury in his eyes. He wrenches another dagger from its scabbard and, with no warning, lunges forward and plunges it into the neck of the man who had reached for you. With a sickening gurgle, the man collapses instantly, and red blood begins to pool underneath him. Marcus rips the dagger from the man’s neck and points it at the second man as he shoves him against the wall, who immediately begins to whimper and shake his head. 

“Sniveling cur,” the General spits. “I would happily kill you both, but you are going to deliver a message for me instead.” At the man’s frantic nod, he continues. “It seems that some need reminding that I am not to be trifled with,” Marcus snarls. “And the next person who disrespects me by harming my property will be dealt with in the same manner as your friend. Now. Go.” 

The man bolts, clutching the wound you had given him.

Marcus’s demeanor immediately changes. He drops the dagger on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, taking your face in his hands again… hands that are trembling. 

“They hurt you,” he murmurs, his eyes rapidly flicking back and forth over your face, seeing the blood that had spattered on your robes.

“It isn’t mine,” you manage to say, although your voice shakes and your chest heaves with leftover terror. You can’t keep your gaze from landing on the dead man in front of you, his eyes still open and staring sightlessly ahead. “I–your knife I–”

“Okay,” he nods, his thumbs still caressing your cheekbones. “Okay. Shhh. Don’t look at him, look at me.” When you manage to pull your gaze to the General instead, you’re suddenly captivated by his wild, dark eyes. They’re so full of fire, yes, but with that fire brings warmth. He stares at you as if you are a precious object, not some scared little girl covered in blood and cowering against the wall. “Come here,” Marcus says softly. “Let me help you up.”

You surprise even yourself when you automatically lean forward and into the General’s arms. He stiffens, seemingly just as stunned by your trust in him, but he recovers and carefully stands, pulling you up with him and gently turning your body away from the dead man. He leads you forward, and you follow blindly as he guides you down onto a chair. 

“Let me fetch a cloth,” Marcus says, his expression stormy and troubled, “to clean you up. Do not move.”

You nod, watching as he fills a little bowl with water from the basin and comes back to crouch at your feet. “Your cheek,” he murmurs. “Is it very painful?”

You nod again, a few hot tears escaping from your eyes and stinging the small cut in question. 

“I will be as gentle as I can,” Marcus promises. “But it must be cleaned.”

You shut your eyes as his fingers carefully grasp your chin, using his hold to tilt your head and grant him easier access. The cloth is cold against the burning skin of your cheek, and you cannot stop the soft whimper that leaves your lips. Gently, the General dabs the little wound, dipping the cloth in water over and over and soothing the tender skin as he wipes it clean of dirt and blood.

Once satisfied with your cheek, he cleans the man’s blood off of the rest of your face and neck, as well as the few droplets that had landed on your hands from the other man as he was stabbed. 

“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely as he gently turns one hand over and dabs away the last remaining spot of blood on the inside of your wrist. 

“You should not be thanking me,” Marcus says, voice tinged with bitterness. “It is because of me that you came to harm.”

“Yet it is also because of you that I was not harmed further,” you tell him quietly. Your eyes dart toward the body in a pool of blood still lying on the floor, and quickly look away again. “You killed a man for me.”

“You are under my protection,” Marcus says solemnly. “I do not take that vow lightly.”

As your heartbeat finally begins to slow, the deep terror that had been swirling inside you leaves, replaced with bone-weary fatigue. Your vision swims and your head sways slightly as you suddenly feel that you must fight the urge to fall asleep right here in this chair.

“Something ails me,” you say, alarmed at your darkening vision.

“Battle fatigue,” the General says matter-of-factly. “When the fog of war lifts, sleep often takes its place.”

“I am no soldier,” you protest tiredly. The world shifts–Marcus has scooped you into his arms and is carrying you to his bed, carefully laying you down on the blankets. 

“You are now,” he teases gently. “Victorious little soldier, bellatora, wielding a General’s weapon with ferocity. You even have a battle scar.” His finger gingerly brushes your cheek.

“Will others come?” you ask, struck with a sudden pang of fear even as your eyes threaten to close. 

“No.”

“What if they do?” It’s a silly question, and you aren’t sure why you even gave voice to such a childish fear. Warmth envelops you as Marcus covers your form with a blanket. Your eyes finally close, and the General’s last words seem to come to you through a dream.

“Then I will fight the entire Roman army to keep you safe.”

Marcus Acacius did not want this “gift.” 

He did not want a virgin to deflower, nor a scared girl to comfort, or even a servant that inexplicably tidied his rooms while he was away.

He did not want you. 

But here you are, sitting by his window with a book, eating all of your dinner and a good portion of his, and leaving long, curly hairs on his pillows, by the basin, and even on his armor–something he had discovered during a drill one morning, pulling the offending strand off of his pauldron with a bemused shake of his head. 

He does not want you. He doesn’t want the comb and mirror that now lie on the table by the basin, nor the extra rags he had to ask a servant for–ears burning bright red–when your… er… monthlies arrived. He does not want to spend his wages on new robes for you, but he hardly has a choice, not when your thin white shift became filthy with blood the night that he–

Gods.

The night that he almost lost you.

If his meeting had gone just five minutes longer, he would have been too late. He would have arrived to a much different scene, and he knows he would have killed every inhabitant of the palace in retribution.

This is how he knows that he cannot trust his own feelings when it comes to you. What should be an unwanted inconvenience in his life has quickly become much, much more. He acts like a man in love, the way he buys you trinkets and brings you sweets, but no matter how he twists the story in his own head, he cannot deny the truth: you are a captive. His captive.

As if to punctuate his thoughts, a wealthy merchant crosses his path in the bustling market, followed by another man carrying all of the man’s wares for him, purposely walking several paces behind as is the custom for slaves.

Marcus can dress you in all the finery his salary can afford, but that does not change the fact that you were intended to be a slave for his pleasure. 

He already has his intended prize from the market–a parcel containing two pieces of sweetbread tucked under one arm–but perhaps it is guilt over your imprisonment that causes his head to wander to the stall of jewelry to his left. 

“Trinkets for a special someone,” says a middle-aged woman wearing kohl eyeliner and almost as many beads around her own neck as are displayed in her stall. She shoots Marcus a knowing smirk as his fingers reach out to graze a length of beads of palest pink. 

“Rose quartz,” the woman tells him. “For love, compassion, and emotional healing.”

Rose quartz. He cannot help but picture the pretty, pale beads glowing, luminous against the soft skin of your neck.

“How much?” His voice is rough and thick. 

The woman’s smile widens.

They cost almost an entire weeks’ salary, and he’s never spent such a sum on anything for himself, let alone something so frivolous, but he’s already reaching for his purse.

You grin widely at Marcus’s return–a sight that makes his heart swell when he remembers how frightened you were of him on that first night. You make little grabbing motions with your hands, causing him to laugh as he hands over the parcel of sweetbread. You take your piece and hand him the other, hardly waiting until he’s taken it before you’re biting into the sweet dough with a sound of pleasure that goes straight to his nether regions. 

He thinks of the necklace, wrapped in cloth and hidden in his robes, but he is struck with a moment of uncharacteristic cowardice, and he leaves it where it is. 

“Tell me about the market,” you say wistfully. 

“Too crowded,” Marcus grunts before taking a bite of his own sweetbread. 

You seem to find his cantankerous nature funny, for Gods know what reason, and the pretty sound of your laughter fills the room–and his mind.

“There are a number of visitors for some play at the amphitheater tonight,” he explains further, shrugging slightly.

You suddenly exclaim in delight, startling him a little. “I love the amphitheater,” you say emphatically. “My father often had to punish me for sneaking in to see plays against his wishes when I was a little girl.”

Marcus chuckles, picturing a smaller version of you, but no less fiery.

“It was worth it,” you laugh. You pop the last piece of sweetbread into your mouth and suck each finger clean of the sticky dough in turn. Marcus should look away, but he’s entranced by the way your lips close around each digit, leaving clean, shiny skin in your wake.

He blames this momentary onset of utter madness for the words that leave his mouth next.

“Would you like to go see it? The play?”

 The pure delight that washes over your face is enough to make Marcus want to take you to a different play every night, but after too short a time, you are frowning warily.

“Would that be wise?” you ask. “Is it not dangerous for me to leave your quarters?”

“You would be seen as my consort,” Marcus answers. “No harm will come to you, bellatora.”

“Your… your consort?” 

“You cannot be a prisoner in these walls for the rest of your days,” he tells you softly. “If we play the parts we have been given–the General and his consort–no one will question it. They wouldn’t dare, not after my warning. The entire palace knows that I will gladly kill anyone who threatens you.”

You duck your head, looking down at your hands. Marcus wonders if you’re frightened of him, still. 

“Everyone will see my act as one of possession,” he says. “Of territoriality. If we allow them to draw that conclusion, they will never suspect any different.”

You nod, biting your lower lip and giving him a timid smile that slowly spreads across your face and turns into something bright and joyful. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“The play will end before we even arrive, bellatora,” Marcus grouses from the main chamber. 

“Patience,” you snap from the washroom. The stupid elaborate hairstyle that you keep trying to braid your hair into keeps falling out, and you’re beginning to feel frustrated. With a heavy sigh, you settle for a simpler plait that falls over one shoulder. You’re wearing one of the nicer gowns that Marcus has gifted you–robes of deep emerald green, but you still worry that you look far too common to be an appropriate consort to a General.

Since when has such a thing become a concern for you? Despite the roles you are forced to play, Marcus is not your consort, nor your lover. He has made it clear he will never touch you, so why are you hiding in the washroom, worrying over your appearance?

With a pained sigh, you shake yourself, square your shoulders, and turn to face the General.

“Ready,” you announce, and the man in question looks up.

His lips part slightly, a little crease forming on his brow as his eyebrows raise. He fixes you with that look–the one he keeps giving you lately. It’s as if he’s in a constant state of surprise every time he sees you, as if you aren’t a permanent fixture in his rooms and could disappear at any moment. 

“What?” you finally ask. 

Marcus seems to shake himself out of his stupor. “It is missing something.”

The statement confuses you. “I–I have nothing else to–” You cut yourself off as the man seems to be digging through his clothing, looking for what, you do not know.

“I thought this would suit you,” he says quietly, as he retrieves a small parcel and holds it out for you to take.

You hesitate, frowning. “What is it?”

Marcus huffs softly with impatience and opens the parcel himself, revealing the prettiest strand of stones you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Oh,” you gasp. 

“Do you…” the man in front of you clears his throat and shifts in his stance, “Do you like it?” he asks gruffly.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, I like it.”

Wordlessly, he removes it from the cloth and moves behind you to clasp it at the back of your neck. You can’t help the wide smile that breaks across your face at the feel of the cool beads resting against your throat. Gently, you touch the necklace with your fingers and turn to look at Marcus. “Does it look pretty?” you ask, still grinning at him.

The General’s face is almost pained when he returns your gaze. His eyes don’t leave yours when he softly answers, “Yes.”

Marcus Acacius has never been much for plays, but never before has he experienced seeing one with you. He can’t help cracking a small smile himself every time you let out a joyful peal of laughter, which you do often, as the story is a humorous one. 

The necklace suits you just as he thought it would, but your beauty almost makes the stones appear dull in comparison. If anyone were to ask him, Marcus would say that your smile could outshine all of Rome. Pretending that you are his consort is far too easy; your delicate fingers find the crook of his elbow without prompting when he offers his arm to you as you walk through the streets when the show ends. Your eyes always seem to find his, your face bright and hopeful and oh so lovely as you look up at him. 

“Marcus?” 

He’s been lost in his thoughts again. He grunts and nods to you as the two of you walk back to the palace, when you suddenly stop. 

“I want to tell you…” you begin, wringing your hands together nervously. 

“What is it, bellatora?” Marcus asks with concern.

“I want to tell you that I am… very happy,” you say, ducking your head and avoiding his gaze. 

“I am glad that you enjoyed the play,” Marcus says hesitantly, wondering what is making you suddenly be so… shy.

“With you,” you add quietly. “It’s not only the play, it’s… it’s just you, Marcus.” The final word is almost a plea, with how earnestly it leaves your lips. “I–I want you to know that I would. I would be your consort, i-if you wanted, and I’d–”

Marcus closes the small distance between you and presses his lips against yours. You yield to him immediately, your small hands moving up the planes of his chest and coming to rest at his jaw. You kiss with the slight timidness of someone unfamiliar with how to do it, but oh, he’s happy to guide you. One of his hands gently cups your neck, the other caresses your cheek and it’s all he can do to keep the kiss chaste and not frighten you by backing you up against the wall of the alleyway and opening his mouth to you. 

When he releases your lips, you chase him–leaning forward with your mouth still pouted and your eyes closed, as though you cannot bear to be parted from him, and it takes a herculean effort not to indulge.

“Come,” Marcus murmurs softly, his thumb tracing back and forth over your cheekbone, watching as you flutter your eyes open and look at him with an expression of such open trust and want that he feels as though he’ll burn from the inside out. “Come, let us go home.”

You are ablaze.

Marcus’s hands seem to burn with heat as he guides you hastily through the palace and to his familiar quarters, but their temperature still seems to pale in comparison to the heat that rises within you. 

Once inside, he kisses you again, and you swear your knees could simply buckle and give out just at the feel of his lips on yours. You crave it again and again; your hands grip at his robes to hold him close to you, hoping he’ll never stop. 

“Sweet girl, little bellatora,” Marcus murmurs, his lips dragging from your mouth across your cheek to the side of your neck and oh, you like that even more–your head falls to the side and your back arches as you all but beg for his lips on your skin again. His hand on your lower back guides you even closer until your bodies are pressing together and you gasp softly at the feeling of his body against yours.

“Tell me,” he whispers in your ear, his lips grazing the shell of your earlobe and causing a cascade of shivers to course through you. “Tell me that you want this. If you do not, deny me now, and I promise I will never touch you again.”

“No,” you whimper automatically. “No, please don’t stop, just–”

“Shhh, bellatora.” Marcus seems to crumple with relief, leaning forward until your back hits the wall and his lips ravish your neck once again. “I won’t stop, just tell me you want me like this.”

“Yes,” you gasp, as the General’s hands cage your face and his mouth meets yours once again. “Yes, yes, yes–” You repeat the word over and over into his mouth, until he groans softly and parts his lips too, deepening the kiss and tasting you with his tongue.

His hands caress your neck, fingertips running up and down before settling on the clasps on your shoulders. “Let me see you,” he whispers. “Please, let me–”

You pull back, looking in his eyes as you nod slowly, giving him permission. He carefully undoes your dress, letting the fabric fall and pool at your feet. The necklace is still around your neck, and he touches the beads lightly as he stares at the sight before him.

“Oh, Gods…” Marcus murmurs to himself, shaking his head in awe. “What a divine gift you are, bellatora.”

His eyes rake over your breasts, your hips, the swell of your stomach, and the fire burning within threatens to consume you. With one more soft kiss, he whispers, “Come to the bed, so I may worship you properly.”

You let him lead you, keeping your eyes on him as he takes your hands in his and pulls you toward the bed. You are too consumed with flames to feel fear of this moment, but a pang of nervousness thrums within you despite yourself. 

Marcus guides you down until you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. You begin to scoot backwards–you might not have much experience, but you know you’re supposed to be lying on the bed–when he stops you, and instead sinks to his knees in front of you. 

“I–” you begin, unsure of what to do.

“I want you to watch,” the General whispers, looking up at you in the same way an acolyte may look up at a temple. “I want you to see me.”

Slowly, cautiously, as if he’s afraid of spooking you, he guides your legs open until you’re splayed out in front of him. You would be embarrassed, but for the hungry look in his eyes, how his chest seems to heave in anticipation, and the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips as if he’s about to enjoy a feast.

When he leans forward, his mouth moving toward you, you gasp and stiffen, and he pauses.

“Trust me,” he soothes. “It will feel good, I promise.”

You swallow thickly and relax again, watching as Marcus comes even closer, until he’s able to press a kiss right on–

“Oh,” you whimper softly. 

Emboldened, he angles his mouth against you and licks. The sensation of his tongue through your folds causes you to collapse backwards on your elbows, your head falling back and your eyes closing as you gasp toward the ceiling. 

“Watch,” Marcus reminds you. 

With you half-sprawled on the bed, your legs fall open even further and his hands wind underneath your hips as he pulls you even closer onto his mouth. His tongue, his lips… oh, it’s so decadent; you’ve never felt pleasure like this by your own hand. He thrusts his tongue into you, and you can only whine and babble wordlessly, your eyes wide as you dutifully watch him please you. He alternates between these deep, overwhelming strokes of his tongue and little licks right on the little bundle of nerves above, back and forth, back and forth until your entire body shakes. 

“Exquisite,” Marcus rasps, his voice rough with exertion and pleasure. His lips close around you and he sucks gently, and the fire within you burns until it reaches a crescendo, until finally, you fall.

“Bellatora.” The endearment is laden with affection, and when you slowly blink your eyes open, the General is smiling down at you. “Are you with me, mi bellatora?”

You giggle. “I think so.”

He must have disrobed while your eyes were closed; you stare at his slightly golden chest, at the light dusting of hair and freckles, and further down, where–

Oh, Gods. 

Marcus hangs thick, heavy, and proud, and you swallow in trepidation at the thought of all of that inside you.

“Don't look at that; look at me.” The words are soothing, but tinged with humor, and you can see the mirth sparkling in his eyes when you do as he asks and look at him.

“Let us just lie down together,” he says, smiling. “Nothing more.”

You scoot up until your head rests against the pillows, and Marcus crawls over you with a smirk, pressing little kisses up your body as he goes, until he lies down beside you and pulls you into his arms.

With your back against his chest, you can't exactly forget about the hard length of him, as it's currently pressing insistently against you. You wiggle, arching your back and trying to soothe the empty ache that still seems to reside within you. 

“Feeling greedy, mi bellatora?” 

You whine softly and push back against him harder. His arms are wrapped around you, but somehow, it’s still not enough. You want him everywhere, you need everything. 

“What have you done to me?” you laugh softly. 

“Nothing you have not also done to me,” Marcus murmurs, nipping your shoulder playfully. 

“I have done nothing,” you say airily, leaning further back into his embrace.

“Oh, you have,” he growls. “You have invaded my quarters–”

“That is hardly my doing–”

“–and shortly after, invaded my heart,” Marcus continues, ignoring your interruption. “You have made me crave as I never have before.”

“You have made me feel the same,” you whisper. “I have never… felt anything like this before.”

“Mi bellatora,” he breathes against your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“Do not be cruel.”

“Cruel?”

“You are denying me.”

At your playful accusation, Marcus suddenly shifts, rising up from beside you and pinning you to the bed with his body. “And it is taking the effort of every bone in my body, more challenging than all twelve labors of Hercules.”

“Then stop,” you tell him softly, reaching up to palm his cheek. “Stop denying us what we both want.”

Rather than answer, the General lowers his mouth to yours. 

Kissing might be your new favorite thing–you thought the feel of Marcus’s lips was the most perfect thing you’d ever felt when he kissed you in the alleyway, but here, in his bed, with the weight of his body pressing deliciously down on you, his kisses feel even more profound. His hips roll gently against you, and you instinctively wrap one leg around his thigh to try and relieve your desire for more friction. 

The action causes Marcus to groan and bury his face in your neck, his light beard scraping against your skin. Your hips cant upward unconsciously, and the skin of his cock catches and rubs against your folds. 

With a little moan, you press against him harder, wanting more, more–

“Bellatora,” Marcus groans. He props himself on one elbow over you, spits on the other hand and rubs the wetness onto the head of his cock. He repeats the motion again, and then gently rubs the remainder onto you, making you arch back with a surprised gasp. 

“I know, I know,” he murmurs. “It’ll be easier like this.”

He lines up the thick head of him with your entrance and pushes the tip in ever so slightly. Your eyes widen as you feel him, your mouth falling open as you stare up at him in awe.

“That’s it, just look at me,” Marcus murmurs. “Just keep looking at me.”

His face is so close to yours that your breaths mingle as he slowly slides in. You expect it to hurt, but you’re so soaked from his earlier attentions that it’s almost easy for him, at first. When he’s only about halfway in, though, you start to feel unbearably full–too full–and it makes you whimper softly and squirm against him.

“Breathe for me,” Marcus reminds you. “Breathe, mi bellatora.”

In between more kisses and soft praises, he pushes forward, bit by bit, until you can feel his body fully pressing against your core.

“Oh,” you whisper, smiling shakily. “I can feel you.”

Marcus chuckles. “And I, you.”

He stays just there, unmoving, stroking your face, until you begin to squirm with impatience again.

“I don’t want to hurt you, bellatora,” he says softly. “Please, love, tell me if I do.”

You nod, wide-eyed and enraptured by the feeling of being utterly filled. With one last gently kiss to your cheekbone, Marcus carefully begins to move. His cock drags slowly back and forth against your walls, and each time he buries himself to the hilt once again, it sends sparks of pleasure all over your body.

Your exhales turn high and breathy, little whimpers and gasps escaping every time Marcus reaches the end of you. You cling to his shoulders, the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his curls, eliciting a deep groan and a change in the rhythm of his thrusts as he gains confidence that you aren’t in any pain. 

The faster Marcus’s hips move, the more it seems to send you into a frenzy. Your legs wrap around his hips and your grip on his upper body tightens as the fire within you starts to build again. 

Your lips seek any available skin they can find, pressing open-mouthed against his jaw, his neck, his upper arm, anywhere you can reach. One of Marcus’s hands gently cups the back of your neck for leverage as he grinds against you; the other wanders up and down your body–gripping your hip, squeezing your breast and pressing his thumb against your nipple, stroking your cheek as he kisses you again and again. 

His kisses become more and more messy and frenetic as he loses himself in the pleasure of your body. He pants softly, his voice catching on every exhale, quiet little noises deep in his throat that only you can hear. 

Your bodies move seamlessly together, aided by the light sheen of sweat that beads on your skin. Marcus hand slips in between you, his fingers finding the little bundle of nerves and gently rubbing circles into the skin there.

“Oh, I–I–” you whimper brokenly, drunk on the sensations of pleasure that he’s pulling from your body. “M-Ma–” 

“Say it,” he rasps in your ear. “Please, bellatora.”

“Marcus,” you manage to gasp. 

“Again.”

“M-Marcus, Marcus, oh Gods, I–” 

Your body arches off the bed as the strongest wave of pleasure you’ve ever felt courses through you. You convulse against him, hands scrabbling for a hold on his broad shoulders, gripping him for dear life as though he is the only thing keeping you from being pulled under by the waves. 

Your cries reach a crescendo and Marcus gives you everything–his hips snapping roughly against you as your core continues to flutter weakly. Finally, when your body feels boneless and the fullness of him begins to ache, his thrusts falter and he finally stills, his cock twitching inside of you as he finishes. 

He slips out, frowning slightly with concern when you wince, but continues to hover over you, his eyes sweeping over your face as your breathing slows and your heart quietens. He stays there, stroking your hair and kissing you until his shoulders start to shake with the effort of holding himself over you. 

You fall asleep tangled together, safe and warm in Marcus’s arms.

[Several moons later]

“Must we really go?” you wheedle as you watch the General fiddle with the clasp on his ceremonial robes.

“It is the most effective way to make our little statement, bellatora.” 

You cross your arms and make a show of pouting, although you know Marcus is right. You raise your arms, which are currently holding half of an unfinished braid. “Help me with my hair?” 

Marcus sighs loudly, although you know that, like your feigned petulance, it’s also an act. He takes the braid from you and finishes it before moving to the next section, plaiting it together the way he knows you like. 

“Tell me the statement again.”

He huffs. “You just like hearing me say it.”

“Yes.”

“An act against one of us is an act against both of us,” he murmurs dutifully. “And tantamount to an act of war, to be met with a swift and disproportionate response.”

“You always say that–‘disproportionate response.’ I do not understand what you mean by it.”

“Mmm. An opposing force sends one arrow into my army, I send one back. Proportionate response. Someone sends an arrow into my army, and I reign fire from the sky, burn every building to the ground, kill every citizen and remove them from every map. Disproportionate response.” Marcus finishes your hair and gently drapes the long braid over your shoulder.

“If ever you ask why I was scared of you when first we met, I will refer to you to that statement,” you say wryly. 

“You did ask, mi bellatora.” He picks up a belt and scabbard–similar to his, but smaller, more delicate, and ornate. He fastens it around your waist, cinching your dress and making you feel not only more alluring, but powerful. 

You do a little twirl and turn to him. “Do I look like the consort of an esteemed General?”

Marcus leans in and gently captures your lips with his. “You look like so much more. Now let us go into this den of wolves.”

With your head held high, you walk proudly through the halls at the General’s side, your hand tucked neatly against the crook of his elbow, until you reach the banquet hall, where the Emperor is holding a great feast. In your wildest imagination, you cannot think of a single place you want to avoid more, but you hold Marcus’s earlier promise in your mind as the heads turn to look at your entrance.

This is the last time.

The Emperor, surrounded by his entourage, raises his glass with a shout and a laugh as he sees the two of you. “The good General,” he grins wolfishly. 

“Taking his little plaything out for a walk,” one of the other men sneer. 

“Letting his little pet out of its cage,” adds another, snickering. 

Calmly, you unsheath the beautiful, ceremonial dagger that Marcus had given you as a gift and hold it at your side, just as he’d told you. A powerful warrior does not brandish their weapon or wave it under people’s noses, he had said. A powerful warrior does not need to. They simply remind their enemies that the weapon is there.

“You disrespect me,” you say, keeping your face even and your eyes stern. “And you disrespect my husband.”

Silence falls around the room. The Emperor’s men look at each other, to Marcus, and back to you again, unsure of how to respond. Finally, one of them laughs loudly.

“General Acacius is going soft,” he cackles. “Letting his little toy play pretend that she’s the wife of a noble.”

You fight to keep your expression free of malice or hurt, continuing to face them down calmly, your sword resting at your side. 

“Your gift to the General was far more valuable than you knew,” you say evenly, speaking only to the Emperor. “My family’s debt is paid in full, and I am therefore free to leave the palace at my leisure.”

The Emperor of Rome stares at you with befuddlement, his eyes wide, seemingly completely at a loss for words.

“We take our leave,” you announce with a flourish of a bow. 

“Leave?” The man sputters. “You are my finest General, you cannot–”

“I have given the Empire more than my fair share of years in service,” Marcus says quietly, standing resolutely next to you and placing his hand around your waist. “I find I have seen all I care to see of war, and the rest of my days will be filled with peace.”

Marcus turns to the other generals, who are all watching the confrontation with the Emperor. Without speaking, they draw their swords and hold them aloft in a silent salute to your husband–who solemnly returns the gesture. As you are still holding your dagger, you copy the gesture. This seems to please both him and the other Generals, who all smile. 

Marcus turns to you, beaming with affection and pride. “Let’s go home, bellatora.”

Epilogue

In a small hamlet south of the big city, a villa sits on a small hill overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. 

There is a rumor among some of the residents of the town that the man who lives there used to be a General in the Emperor’s army, but most of the inhabitants agree that this is a ridiculous notion. 

He’s too soft-spoken, you see; his gentle demeanor is unlike that of a soldier. He often likes to sit with his wife and watch the color of the sea change as the sun rises in the morning, savoring the moment of peace before his children wake up. 

There are five of them now–with a sixth on the way. His wife jokes that should she find herself with child for the seventh time, she’s going to feed the man’s privates to their goats. 

Their life is modest, but by all accounts of those who witness it, they are blissfully happy. Their home always seems to be filled with joy, laughter, and no small amount of chaos that always follows young children. They maintain a small farm, raise goats and chickens, and they sell their extra eggs and vegetables at the market every week, accompanied by their five children, who are helpful… to varying degrees.  

Sometimes, late at night, the odd passer-by will see the silhouette of a couple standing on the cliffs overlooking the sea, wrapped in a tender embrace.

They have few visitors, but those who have been inside their villa have noted that two swords are mounted above the front door. One is large, utilitarian, but expertly crafted–with signs of wear that might indicate it has seen more conflict than most. The other is small and elegant, the hilt decorated with precious stones. 

No one has ever dared to ask about them.

[petalstims]

Hello! I'm Petal, and I make stimboards! I used to request them a lot, but I realized what better way to get the kinds I like than to make them myself?

Requests are: OPEN!

Inbox: 0/3!

For my DNI, blacklist and whitelist, check out my carrd: 🌈

My header and icon were made by @/nebulastars!

Feel free to drop by and say hi! :D I love talking to people, my dms are always open if you wanna chat! I also love being tagged in promos, please do tag me in them!

If you want, you can always send me inbox checks! :D

I interact from @zoru-hq! I'm shadowbanned though, so all asks will be sent on anon, and I might just give you ghost notes!

Taken anon names: ⭐ Anon, ☀️ Anon, 🎸 Anon, Rad Anon, 🥝 Anon, 💘 Anon, ✨ Anon

What you can expect to see posted/reblogged on this blog: Desserts, cutesy things, paint, pink, rainbows and pastel colors!

Warning: I block people who don't credit their gifs in stimboards, because it clogs up my searches for stim gifs when I'm making boards! If I don't see your interactions with me, that might be why!

PROSHIPPERS DNI. You are not welcome here.

Have a nice day!

[howaboutalittlehelpneos]

YGO! Questionnaire

Tagged by @cipher-wise

Pleasantly surprised to be in one of these, so let’s go

Favorite series: *Gestures to icon* Is it any surprise I’ll be picking GX? I love GX with all my heart and soul. The story’s pacing is very good and never feels like it’s dragging its feet to get to where it’s going, most duels are over in less than a full episode with the longest one being three, there are so many good characters to get invested in, and this boy right here is your protagonist.

Look at him blow kisses to the audience after beating Crowler, how could anyone not love Jaden Yuki? I care him so much. Even the filler episodes in GX are pretty fun to watch most of the time, and it’s the good kind of filler that may not advance the plot much or at all, but it’ll give you plenty of good memories to take with you. Who could possibly forget the eggwich thief? Not to mention the soundtrack fucking slaps.

Favorite protagonist: I mean...

Yeah it’s Jaden. GX hooked me immediately when I started watching it because of how much I loved this boy. He’s that perfect mix of cocky and sweet when it comes to dueling because he’s confident in his own abilities, but he never stops having fun and being amazed at what his opponent can do, he cares about all of his friends and does his best to help them with their problems, he’s kind to strangers, and he has exactly half a brain cell. 

I feel the gif speaks for itself, but Jaden’s dialogue when he turns around here is “I’m such a sucker for things like this! I’ll help you, ma’am!” Dorothy says “No, you’ll be late... Don’t you have a test today?” And Jaden replies with “Who cares if I’m late? I couldn’t leave a lady in trouble!” Jaden Yuki is my absolute favorite protagonist.

Favorite rival: Oh man is that a tough one. Am I allowed to pick two? It’s a hard call to make between this dumb edgy bitch-

And this dumb gay bitch

Honestly they’re tied for favorite rival in my book. I absolutely loved Chazz when I watched GX, and I thought his arc about breaking through his inferiority/superiority complex and learning to accept loss as a part of life without letting it define him was wonderfully written, and seeing him grow as a person throughout the show just made me feel happy for him. Shark... I really thought I wasn’t going to end up liking Shark at first, but god he just gets so much better as Zexal goes on, starting out as this mean spirited middle school bully in episode one, and slowly ending up as Yuma’s boyfriend closest friend. It’s incredible to look back at how Shark acts when he’s first introduced and compare it to... season 3, I think it was, where just hearing the words “Yuma’s in danger” is enough to send him running to his rival’s side. Chazz and Shark. They are my favorites.

Favorite BFF: Him

Crow Hogan is an absolute treasure and he was my favorite part about watching 5Ds. This little bird man first gets introduced by stealing cards for his kids and clowning on Sector Security, and he’s a source of so much good throughout the show. Excellent best friend (technically brother but I’m counting him), wonderful father, 10/10 person all around. Plus the fact that the only thing stopping him from berating his bitchass brother even more was Yusei having to literally pick him up and pull him away is definitely extra points in my book. What a powerful little bird. His only weakness is people that are taller than him, which is unfortunately most people.

Favorite GFF:

Yuzu. Have I actually watched Arc V yet? No, but I’m still picking Yuzu for my number one here. Tea and Tori are just awful characters, I’m neutral towards Alexis, and Akiza... Did have potential to be something interesting on her own, despite how uncomfortable she made me in seasons 1-2 of 5Ds, but her relevance is alllll downhill from there. I’ve seen one clip of Yuzu yelling at a man eating pie and calling him a 100th rate duelist, and that was all I needed to know she would be my favorite. (Clip here) 

Favorite villain: Oh boy

The fuckin carrot is my favorite villain, and I say this as someone who fully believes he didn’t deserve to be in the last episode. Vector did some fucked up shit in his day, and he only continued to do fucked up shit in Yuma’s day, but I have to say he was pretty effective when it came down to his goals. He got things done and went right for what he wanted by taking direct action to seize Don Thousand’s power, and he manipulated Yuma perfectly by preying on his kind nature and love for Astral to use him to further his goals. 

...Plus I mean just look at his subbed dialogue God he’s such a slut. Evil slutty alien.

Tl;dr Vector was a horrible horrible person, but he was a good villain, and he was so entertaining whenever he was on screen that it was impossible not to like him. Still kinda wish he got what he deserved though, and what he deserved definitely wasn’t another chance.

Speaking of Don Thousand though, can we talk about how unfairly pretty he is? If I had to pick a runner up villain in terms of looks alone, it would definitely be him.

God it was not fair how pretty the big bad of Zexal was. He’s fucking gorgeous, and in my opinion, the best looking villain at the very least.

Favorite card: *Sweats in Duel Links* Favorite? There’s so many cards out there to pick from, but since I’ve already broken the rules with my two favorite rivals, I’ll be picking two of each card type: Spells, traps, and monsters. One for the aesthetic, and one for how often I make use of it.

First up, the Aesthetics group

What can I say, Vampiric Koala is such a cutie, Dwimmered Path has some really pretty card art, and Rainbow Life is an eternal flex on any heteros I may encounter while playing Duel Links. Nothing better than a gay trap card.

Now for usability

Dragon Knight of Creation is suuuper helpful in any dragon themed deck and has a permanent slot in my decks for Mokuba and Kaiba, PoG is always a fun way to boost up weak monsters to ridiculous heights, and Dark Bribe just lets you block your opponent like “Okay I know you wanna hurt me but I will let you draw another card if you do not do that thing”, and they can’t refuse you.

Favorite episode: I’ll be copying cipher’s format here and picking one for each series, but this will still only total out to five for me since I’ve yet to watch past Zexal ^^; Soon I’ll get to Arc V! One day...

Season 0: Episode 16:  Turnabout by a Hair's Breadth - The White-Robed Crisis I’m a sucker for my son Joey, and this was a good Joey episode about him and his sister, plus it was nice seeing that doctor get what he deserved :) Duel Monsters: Season 5, episode 12-14:  The Deciding Match for Duel King - Yugi vs. Leon/Golden Castle of Stromberg/KC Grand Prix Ends  Probably a weird batch of episodes to pick, I know, but a lot of DM was kinda forgettable to me, and these are some of the few episodes I do recall. I just... really felt for Leon’s situation, and I wanted good things for that boy. I care him. GX: Season 3, episode 34: Dark Fusion! Inferno Wing!! Jim. Jim Jim Jimmmmm. This was the episode that finally made me understand why saviorshipping was a thing because it hits you with all these memories Jim has of Jaden and shows how they bonded before all this Dark World shit happened, and the whole thing was very emotional. 5Ds: Season 4, episode 2-3:  Recollections, Entrusted with a Friend's Dying Wish God Crow, my precious bird son. I really liked the backstory they gave him, despite how much it hurt. It was probably the best character development he got in the whole of 5Ds, and let you see a side to him you probably wouldn’t expect. I loved watching him get his justice. Zexal II: Season 2, episode 5-6:  Alito the Silent Fighter - Reunion of the Passionate Duelists!/ Be Revived! The Duelist Soul That Transcends Life!! I picked these episodes for Nistro and Nistro alone. He was one of my absolute favorites in Zexal, and seeing how well he and Dextra were doing was good for the soul. Just look at this good lion man right here.

Look at him!!!

Favorite decks to use: Elemental Heroes, Aromages, Red Eyes, Six Samurai, and Crystal Beasts.

Fusion, Ritual, Synchro, Xyz, Pendulum, or Link: I’m a simple girl, I love fusion/tributes for how easy they are, but synchro can be pretty fun, too

Years in fandom: ??? Even I don’t know the answer to this one, friends. I used to be in the fandom when I was in middle school, wrote/read a few fanfics here and there, but then I fell out of it for... Well I’m 22 now and only got back into things 6 months ago? I started rewatching the abridged series of Duel Monsters in March, and from there I just wanted to consume actual Yugioh content and never went back.

Who am I tagging: @finding-fallen-petals @dizziedaikonn​ @chazzaroo​ Go wild y’all

[nc7dr3am]

LILY INSTAGRAM STORY Q&A

“hello my loves!! let’s chat~~”

TAGLIST (lmk if u wanna join! it’s for all of my lily verse content, even the other oc blogs): @aqueenieme​ @moonbeamsung​​ @atinygracie @jinsoulorbitzen12​ @btshook

“how are you tonight? could we have a tmi?”

i am very sleepy. i’ll be going to bed soon, actually.. for the tmi... i’ve had three coffees today

“lily!! read any good books lately?”

YES!! i am reading ‘to live’ by yu hua and it’s very .. thought-provoking, i suppose. i’m reading it in chinese, as well, to practice. mila and evie help me occasionally if i need it. please read it!!

“nct siren!!! i’m so excited- can you tell us about hyeyoung and evie?”

i’m excited too~~!! hyeyoungie unnie is very talented at dance and singing. she is a kind and caring unnie, and she calls me her baby. she is one of my very best friends, and i rely on her a lot. evie is also extremely talented, and her voice is very unique. she is a really cool unnie and plays with me a lot. she is also one of my best friends. i love them so much🥺

i know you all will love them- support them, okay? they deserves the world.

“how is the dorm these days? honey and mr. darcy are PRECIOUS... but isn’t jeno allergic?”

yes, jeno is allergic, but you all know that won’t stop him from cuddling them .. dummie. but at least mr. darcy is hypoallergenic! honey sheds quite a bit, though .. also, i’ve actually recently moved out of the dream dorms

“GIRL WHERE DO YOU LIVE NOW?? IS JIMIN NA FOR THE STREETS??”

LMAOO I NEEDED THIS BABE HAH jimin na is too much of a lil wimp for the streets. but! i live with my nct siren members now! i love it!! it was hard to say goodbye to my dreamies, but i literally see them constantly anyway

“have you been resting enough? i love your solo and your promotions but i hope you’re eating and sleeping well :((“

thank you for caring, babe!! don’t worry though, i’m okay. i appreciate your kindness more than you know.

“lily babe what smells do you associate with the dreamies? and siren?”

*answered on ten different instagram story posts, one for each member*

oh my god there’s so many of them .. mila is definitely oranges and green tea. she uses green tea lotion, but the smells just remind me of her as a person since this is what we’re basing it on

i know we’re not really doing LITERAL scents, but hyeyoung unnie uses this givenchy perfume, l’interdit. it smells floral, but with spice. she reminds me of clean laundry and roses.

evie unnie is like paint. she’s an artist, so when i smell paint, i think of her. and champagne!! floral scents remind me of her as well, but bright floral scents, not the soft ones like hyeyoung. and rain. mixed bag

jaemin oppa reminds me of clean but slightly floral smells. i think if i had to pick a smell for him, it’d be this one aloe and rose toning spray i have. lavender is also a good one for him. calming smells

jeno oppa is like a soap? yknow just the regular body soap with no added scent? it still smells good and it’s just nice and familiar. also, like when something is baking in the oven on an early morning.

fullsun is like if you’re walking somewhere nice and catch a scent of some nearby flowers and freshy cut grass. the way summer days smelled when i was a child. i also would choose honeysuckle for him

renjun oppa is like a forest? he also reminds me of the smell of books, or paper. i’d also pick a beach, but on a cloudy day and there aren’t many people around and the air. he’s like nature

jisung reminds me of the summer nights smell where you have a bonfire. do you all know what i mean? i dunno, it just fits him! and he’s like a nice fresh smell. maybe like when the air smells colder.

chenle reminds me of a pool and i don’t know how to explain that. on another note, mint. he always has a bit of a minty smell in person, too, so that’s probably why. also cologne because he has a lot of it

mark oppa really reminds me of just... that comfortable home smell? and candles? i think amber and cashmere too... those warm, comfy scents. laundry and clean hair. nice smells. he doesn’t wear cologne btw but he always smells nice

“if you can’t talk right now and are doing hot girl shit, what are you doing?”

deadass just rewatching the twilight saga

“should i get a sugar daddy”

i feel like i will get in trouble for answering this

“me love you long tim”

who’s long tim

“do you also still use l’interdit for your perfume?”

OKAY so i use it every now and then!! it’s hyeyoung’s signature smell, and i liked it so sometimes i switch it up and use that. my regular perfume is amazing grace bu philosophy. i’ve used it every day for years

“do you watch crack videos? ily”

ily too!! +yes and i ENJOY THEM it’s very much my sense of humor. johnny irritated me when he only laughed a little. i also watch edits you all make of me >:) i see a lot of czennies posts.

and yes that should scare you

“do the kitties get along with beetle? and are there any other pets in the siren dorms?”

our pets get along pretty well. honey was very hostile at first, but she got used to mr. darcy pretty quickly and they’re best friends. the cats are indifferent to beetle but sometimes they cuddle. and there’s not anymore pets yet!! well, mila has a goldfish too- she just got him and his name is bird.

“bestie i would drink your spit”

i KNOW you didn’t think i would see/respond but i’m built different

“jimin my love what should i do if my ex is trying to get back with me? he kinda broke my heart nd cheated but i still have feelings :(”

um babe he is a FLOP for breaking your heart nd a FLOP for cheating. please don’t get back with his bum ass. idc if it’s harsh- no excuse for cheating. if you trust someone with your heart and they cheat, you know they’re not to be trusted with them again. stay strong bub- i believe in you!

“lily babe your solo was beautiful shskdhs can we expect more solo/lily-written things soon?”

okay i. cannot maybe should not say anything but uh .. LOL

“jimin may i please have your hand in marriage”

okay so i definitely scrolled your account, i definitely think you are beautiful, and i am definitely in love now. also i accidentally liked an old photo gosh i seem creepy i am so sorry

but basically she said yes

“who have you texted most recently?”

*the photo for this story is the cats*

i feel like you wanted to hear a member or one of my friends but i was texting in a group chat with me and my parents. i sent them this picture of my cats, and i also told them i miss them

“ma’am what are your favorite shows”

favorite show of all time is euphoria! i also love the end of the fucking world, joe pera talks with you, the office, seinfeld, i’m now very into steven universe!!!”

“cat girl?”

maid costume is better

“what did u get johnny and jisung for their birthdays!!?”

OO yes!! he loves hats a lot so i got him a balenciaga cap. he really loved it. i also made a decorated corkboard with pictures of our members having fun. i put string lights around the frame and put pretty things on it with evie’s help

johhny is hard to get presents for because he buys whatever he wants. i ended up getting him a pair of vetements slides and a bottle of wine i know he likes. 

also!! i got seulgi unnie and i matching bracelets <3

“why is no one talking about the fact that her favorite show is euphoria oh my GOD”

hhhhhh it’s literally art. the best show i have ever seen in my entire life. a few of the other members have watched it, as well, but evie is also really into it. it made hyeyoung cry the whole time.

“favorite food and song right now? i love you you’re so precious”

i love you more, darling!! food is gyoza, but i really love all dumplings right now. my favorite song at the moment is lovely day by bill withers

“STEVEN UNIVERSE OMG tag siren as the crystal gems”

OKAY hyeyoung is def pearl, shes our mom. mila is garnet, for obvious reasons. i’m steven :D

and evie is amethyst but my mind also is saying greg universe so do with that what you will

“answer 100% honestly there’s a gun to your head who is your favorite member”

NOT JOHNNY

“will you flirt with me queen”

no problem baby :) your recent is fine as hell i’ll be in your dm’s waiting

“are you in love”

how can i not be when i am living on the same planet as you

“girl don’t be shy send us hand pics”

GUYS-

“do you have any western artists you’d like to collab with?”

it’s britney, bitch

“i really hope the dating rumors with renjun didn’t but strain on your friendship :(”

okay i actually really wanna address this because a lot of y’all have been saying this stuff, but it didn’t mess up anything. we’re adults now, we’ve known each other for years, and none of us are stupid- including the other guys. we know there will be rumors about us, it’s fairly obvious, but nothing will ever change the fact that we are all best friends, and nothing more. i’m so, so grateful for all of you that were kind, and believed me us when we told the truth. renjun and i, once again, for the people in my dm’s and asks, are not, and never were, dating. our friendship is as strong as ever, babes. 

it’s time for me to goooo, i’m sleepy! goodnight, petals! see you soon~~

[umbraastaff]

I’ve just been thinking--it’s about time I make a proper index for my TAZ fics, huh? Also contains: mini-series, ficlets, goof posts, and lyric comics.

(All of the fics are rated G, or T at most for McElroy-appropriate language.)

FICS

I Saw Seven Bounties | Canon Compliant, Enemies to Friends, Complete | Mostly lighthearted, episodic recounting of Kravitz and Barry’s rivalry throughout those first twelve years on Faerun. 24K. -->Extras: Lich Eyes, Fantasy Starbucks, Alt POV for Chapter 1 & Chapter 5, Sorry

They Say Fire Took Phandalin | Small-town supernatural/sorta-haunted-house AU |  Fresh out of grad school, Barry Bluejeans takes a job and a house in the rural nowhere-town of Phandalin. And it’s not like he thought fitting in would be a walk in the park, but the people there all act really weird, and it’s almost like they’re expecting something of him, too. 11K/~20K.

What Can’t Be Done Alone (Detective Squad) | Canon Divergent, Found Family, Fluff | AU where the voidfish works a little better, and Angus never finds the Bureau. Instead, he finds a strange lich in a cave, and he most certainly continues to work this case and not gradually get adopted instead. 18K/~22K. -->Extras: Drangus AU Oneshot

If I Wanted to be Funny I’d Name This Fic “The Time Belt” | Futuristic sci-fi AU feat. time travel | Taako meets the only people in years who recognize the Institute’s name. Known time criminal Barry Bluejeans continues to evade law enforcement. 2K/??.

Overgrowth / Undercurrent | Roleswap AU, Johnchurch, Pining, Twoshot, Happy ending optional | Overgrowth is a oneshot that follows John, the Starblaster’s chief diplomat, through a series of parleys with Merle, the center of the plane-consuming mass of plants that’s been chasing his crew. Undercurrent is a sequel about their post-canon reunion. 4K + 6K. --> Extras: PLAYLIST by @merle-casts-zone-of-truth

Davenport Remembers | Post-canon, Oneshot | Davenport meets with his crew members to try to reconcile his anger with Lucretia, or to decide whether he should. 1.5K.

MINI-SERIES

AU Where Taako is a Lich - Pretty much what it says on the tin here, folks!

Baritz (ask series) - A fusion of Barry and Kravitz, who took over my blog and answered asks for a while. (He originated in the Gallows/S&S lyric comic.)

Good Adventures (Good Omens crossover) - The Antichrist’s wishes summon the wrong boatful of aliens. Thankfully, it seems they’re apocalypse experts. [with plot-ideas help from @avijohann​.]

Omen Zone (Good Omens crossover 2) - Barry is a demon. Kravitz is an angel. Kravitz probably won’t ever admit that they’re friends.

Pokémon: Century Version (Pokémon crossover) - Stolen Century AU where they’re all pokémon trainers. Faerun spin-off: Double Trouble

Till Death, Don’t Let’s Start - Barry fucks up. Kravitz is present.

Very Normal Blog Posts (ask series) - In which Garfield is not at all dangerous, and I am perfectly fine. <alt: chronological link - desktop only>

COMICS & ART

Gallows/Steady and Stronger (Double lyric comic) - Canon-divergent AU where, as the world is ending, Barry gives up to Kravitz. [Image description version]

[Lyric Comics] - Other, shorter lyric comics based on single verses of songs.

Dear Scientist’s Log (series) - Illustrated ship logs from Barry J. Bluejeans.

Movie Madness (Comic) - Barry obsesses over the unforgivable.

Palette Prompts (Arts) - Art from art meme prompts.

Pregananant (goof comic) - You know the one.

REAPER (Comic) - Baritz fuses with Lup.

These Jeans? (Animatic) - Barry advertises jeans.

They’re Both Tessa Thompson (Comic) - Lucretia has a nightmare. Barry reassures her.

War (Goof comic) - prompt: "taakitz with CAT”

What’s bigger than this? - The Red Robe.

FICLETS

Back Soon - Kravitz leaves a note with unfortunate wording.

Bodyswap: Barry & Davenport - During Wonderland.

Casual - AU where the red robe talks like a normal person.

Command - Barry misuses his magic.

Davenport - There’s something unsettling about that butler.

Hangin’ Out - Lup and Magnus.

Harvest - Roleswap AU: Barry is the Hunger.

Healing Necromancy - Merle tries to teach Barry some tricks.

Hope - Barry knows she’s still out there.

How Long? - Taako is frustrated.

In Pieces - The staff.

Liches Forget Too - AU.

Lucretia Forgets - In which there was a mistake with the voidfish ichor.

Lup’s Robe - Gifts from Taako.

Mourning Glories - The flowers in Merle’s beard.

New Years - Celebrations and fears.

Parole - Barry and Kravitz bonding hours.

Phone a Friend - Baritz (the fusion from Gallows/S&S) meets Angus.

Raising the Dead - Barry has to use his crew members’ corpses. [sequel]

Robbie...? - Magnus breaks into the brig immediately after Petals to the Metal.

Second Apocalypse - Based on that one party liveshow. What was the rest of the crew doing, again?

3 Sentence Fics - Pairing + AU prompts.

Smartstone - Lup gets stuck in a Stone of Far Speech, instead.

Stir Crazy - Barry waiting for a new body to grow. Thoughts of Lucretia.

Writing Things Down - In case you forget (again).

You Remember - Taako remembers.

PROMINENT GOOFS

Barry’s Dead - But he’s fine! Calm down!

Character Development - Joke’s on you, DM!

Crystal Kingdom - An absolutely bonkers arc.

Dealer - Merle pun.

Decapitate Me - for making this post

Don’t Care - Taako during the finale. [bonus]

Epilogue - Bracer struggles. [bonus: 1, 2]

Explain the Hunger (Good Omens crossover) - Magnus explains the hunger to Aziraphale and Crowley. They react in varying ways. [with cursed art contributions from @avijohann and @mspainttaz]

Fifteen Dollars - Plus interest. [Bonus]

Fullmetal Kingdom - They’re the same, right?

Gender - And lack of roles.

Gnomes Don’t Exist - They’re all aliens, actually.

Hot Diggity Shit - Been a while.

Icon Confusion - The saga of people thinking my icon is a carrot. [chrono link - desktop only]

Incomprehensible Denim - Jeff Angel’s illegal pants.

In Case it Changes Anything - Taako, Kravitz, and lies.

Irresponsible Teens - Magnus and Lucretia get into trouble.

I Saw Seven Nerds - That’s the post.

Gogurt - Taako’s crimes.

Learning to Drive - i.e. Barry & Davenport Bonding(?) Hours.

Live Shows - The general mood.

Lucretia’s Efforts - A proper meme? On my TAZ blog?

Lup Said No Thanks - That time Magnus was in a tree.

Magnus’ Death - So many close calls.

Nearest Middle-Aged Woman - Clint’s characters’ friends.

Necromancy? - You must be mistaken!

Ned’s Aliases - The Truth.

Pirate Debt - Davenport during that one liveshow.

Punch Squad - SQUAD!

Reaper Cloak - Thoughts.

Relic Names - She probably changed them.

Responsible Necromancy - Good and bad ideas.

Resume - It’s not like they thought it would be relevant.

Schools of Magic - And the Sash was what, again?

Self Care - Respect the dead, please.

Server Shenaniganry (art) - TAAKO THE CAT, NO!

Soulmate AU - Where your soulmate’s greatest enemy is on your wrist. [alt]

Stern’s Truth - You Know.

Taako’s Last Name - Taako’s last name.

Team Composition - The post where everyone wants to argue with me about what qualifies as a wizard.

Third Option - Taako saves the day.

You’re Laughing - End of Suffering Game.

THEORIES/MECHANICS/THOUGHTS

Aloof - Holes Taako refuses to fill.

Barry’s Lucky Possessee - Graphic novel theory hopes & dreams.

Catpiling - Stolen Century thought.

Davenport’s Deaths - Sucks when you always wake up driving.

Death Leaves a Mark - Stolen Century AU concept.

Everyone Else - Some people didn’t get perfect endings.

Fantasy Nonsense - lore about the word “fantasy,” as in “Jesus Fantasy Christ.”

Fragments - Magnus’ memory.

Forgiveness - Old post about the crew’s thoughts on Lucretia’s actions.

Forgot to Erase - Lucretia’s errors.

FULL TIMELINE POST - the Balance timeline.

Gauntlet - (disproven!) Theory about the final relic, from before it was confirmed in the show.

Gnome Nicknames - Thoughts on Cap’nport.

High School AU - Some old headcanons.

Home World Names - The pattern in surnames (or lack thereof) on the IPRE’s homeworld.

Hour - This isn’t a thought so much as an Actual Thing That Magnus Said before the time loops had started, which is absurd.

Idiots in Love - The IPRE’s collective braincell was lost for all of Legato. [2]

Liches, Alone - Being stuck as raw emotion for an awfully long time.

Losing Julia - And subsequent developments.

Love - What was remembered and forgotten.

Love Without Fear - Thoughts on bonds during the Stolen Century.

Memory - Barry actually shouldn’t have remembered anything.

Nickname - Memory of Lup.

Paladin Barry Theory - Converging evidence on Barry’s multiclassing.

Paradox AU - blueprint for 8th, 9th, 10th, etc. Bird AU of your choice(s). (Extra)

Phylactery Mechanics - How liches differ.

Produce Flame - Mechanics of John killing Merle.

Recklessness - THB’s actions recontextualized.

Relic Schools of Magic - They don’t have them!!!

Relicswap AU - Where all the birds get swapped out.

Seven Birds as Gods - Ask-prompt thoughts.

Staring at the Sun - The birds and their light sensitivity.

Story, Song, & Sorcery - Effects on the young population.

Sword Tornado - Magnus Mechanics. [bonus: Time Warlock]

The Good Place AU - A series of crossover thoughts.

Tree Climbing - Davenport shenanigans.

Unique Magic Types - [and combo styles]

What Killed Maureen - hint: it wasn’t Fisher.

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

BTS after a breakup

Part 2 of 3

Hyung Line

Part 2 of 3, titled This is Still So Angsty I'm Sorry

Alternate Title: Salty Bois in Their Feelings

Alternate Title 2: The Mystery of Why Any Bitch Would Break Up With J-Hope Continues

Warnings: alcohol, angst

Word Count: 3,160

Namjoon (RM)

After a month, Namjoon felt a little better

He missed you like crazy and continued to send you texts every week, but the subject matter brightened a little

He limits himself to only looking at your social media once a day, but other than a couple selfies, you have never posted much so it's a moot point except he gets to see your pretty face

He will be completely silent about the situation won't say shit about you and the boys will avoid saying your name because of the look on your face when he hears it

He drinks too much wine at dinner but he's still on top of everything

Won't ever text you unless it's that one day a week, and he spills out everything

He thinks he's doing better he's proud about his progress

Until he is cleaning the bedroom and he finds a book you were reading under the bed

It's dog-eared in the place where you'll never finish it

Bc you left it here just like you left him

He has a mini breakdown over it but manages to try and get some work done

As soon as he opens his internet browser, he knows it's just gonna be a shit day

He sees his name in the headlines

"Rap Monster Kim Namjoon's Ex and Her New Man?"

He doesn't wanna know, but he can't stop himself from clicking on it

He knows the blurry picture is you because he'd know you anywhere

It isn't as if you're all over the guy or anything, but there's a close up of you holding hands and Namjoon feels like he's been punched in the throat

The thing that really gets him though

Is that he's an idol, too

A leader, even, and Namjoon can't help feeling replaced

The reason you left, the whole issue was because he didn't have time for you but you're moving on with another idol?

It made him think it was him, not the time, that you just didn't want him

Jin calls right away to check on him

"You know how the media is, Joon. It doesn't mean anything."

He's right, of course, but when Namjoon lies down to try and sleep, the image of your hand clasped with that guy's haunts him

He texts you just one sentence that week

"I hope he makes you happy."

You call him and Namjoon is so shook he almost drops his phone

"Y/n?"

"I just want you to know that it isn't what you think."

"I guess it isn't my business anymore." He says, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice

"I don't want you thinking..."

"What? That it wasn't the lifestyle you couldn't handle? That you just didn't want me?" He can't help the angry tears that spring to his eyes

"I never wanted anything as much as I wanted you, Joonie."

He doesn't miss that you're using the past tense.

"I mean it, you know. I hope he makes you happy." He does mean it. He always wants you to be happy

"He's just my friend, Joonie. I would never-"

He closes his eyes against the tears burning behind his lids. He doesn't want to hear you lie to him to protect his feelings

"Yeah, ok. He's a big guy, he can protect you from the paparazzi at least."

There was plenty of photos of that, too, of Hyunwoo with one big arm around you, shielding you from the cameras

"Joon, don't-"

"I miss you," he cuts you off

"I miss you, too."

Neither of you hang up for a long time, just longing for everything to go back to the way it was

Jin

Jin is absolutely not handling this well

He talks about you constantly, asking everyone for advice and boys get so tired of hearing your name jfc

Skips dance practice every other time to move around the house

Flips through your social media pics together several times a day and gets real emo

He's got a new phone and he makes your picture his lockscreen

Cannot stop drinking wine and reading articles with theories about you and your new boo

Gets tipsy and talks shit about Changkyun in troll accounts on YouTube he's that petty

Reads too many articles about Changkyun being a huge flirt and fuckboi and gets way too drunk because it makes him imagine how he is seducing you

Always on your social media acting like he doesn't give a fuck (he gives many fucks)

Likes your pictures of yourself out with Changkyun, comments 👍

Slides in your dms when he sees you're active even though he knows you'll ignore him

Won't say boo to the media just shrugs them off

Jin knows you're staying at your sister's

Everyday he tells himself not to go over there

Not to embarrass himself

But since he's gotten a new phone he can tell himself that's why you're not calling

He sits at the coffee shop by her house every morning, hoping to get a glimpse of you

When he does, of course you're with that idiot

Jin wants the ground to open up and swallow him

Luckily he's wearing a ball cap and face mask

He can hear your voice

"Thank you for being here for me through all this."

Jin watches Changkyun take your hand and he has a fantasy of breaking his fingers one by one

"Jin is an idiot for letting someone like you go, y/n."

Oh boy

So much for not embarrassing himself

Jin rips off his face mask and stalks over to the two of you

"I never let her go. You took her!" He growled, and you stand up and push him out the door to talk

Changkyun peeps his head out to ask if you're ok and it takes every bit of Jin's will not to lunge at him

"Oh will you fuck off?"

He does, and you're looking at him with your chin jutted out and he knows you're mad but he wants to kiss you so badly

"Jin, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Having coffee. Alone. Since my girlfriend left me for some kid. How about you?"

He can't help the bitterness of his words

"Well, I'm having coffee with a friend because my boyfriend fucked someone else on tour."

"Y/n, I did NOT fuck her, or anyone else for that matter."

You scoffed. "Save it, Jin. You all but told me when you were drunk dialing me last week."

"I was shitfaced! Hello! What about that picture you sent me that made me destroy my new phone?"

You shrug. "Maybe I was trying to have some fun."

Jin tugged at his hair as if he wanted to pull it out. "Fun. Fun, you say. I'm going crazy here and you're out having fun."

"Whatever. You're single now, do what you want. I am." You know you're being petty but you don't believe him, after all the pictures, all the articles, the way he had almost apologized for it

You turn to go and he grabs your wrist, pulling you to him, looking fiercely down into your eyes

"This is just a fight we're having, Jagi, yeah? It's just a fight just like the time you went to lunch with your high school boyfriend and i was an idiot and you spent a week with your parents?"

He sounds so uncertain, voice shaky, and you just want to stop this and let him hold you

"You're not really fucking him, are you?"

You pull out of his arms, annoyed

It's not like he actually cares

His pride is hurt, fragile male ego, while you're heartbroken

"It's not cheating. I'm single now, I can do what I want."

"Don't play with me, sweetheart," he warns, eyes flashing

"Or what, Mr. Worldwide Handsome? You'll fuck some idiot girl? Too late. I'm not worried about it. I'm not even thinking about it."

"Of course you aren't, you don't think of me at all, do you?"

He's angry again and you know you're being cruel but you're hurt and angry and you can't help it

"You're right. You think I imagine it's your hands on me instead of his? I don't. He's so good I never think of you." You spit out the words like venom and Jin reacts as if it were, flinching, hurt evident on his handsome face

You leave him there, standing shellshocked on the sidewalk

Yoongi (Suga)

Yoongi feels better after a good night's rest that he finally gets the next night after Hobi makes him take an Ambien

Hobi is legitimately the only human on Earth that knows, Yoongi is confident you'll be back so he swears him to secrecy

Absolutely nothing changes on his social media just work stuff as usual you've changed your relationship status to single and that stings but he won't change his

Over the two years you'd been together of course you'd had spats

You had a flair for the dramatic, it was one of the things he loved you for

He was the quiet one and you were the social butterfly, outgoing and sweet, making up for what he lacked

You were right, after all, he had been distant, with the comeback album coming out in a month

He'd been neglecting you and you just needed some attention and for him to spoil you a bit

He sent two dozen pink roses to your best friend's house with a note reading "You know I love you, brat, so come back home, yeah?"

When you don't call him in 24 hours though, he gets worried

To get his mind off things he goes out for a few beers with Namjoon and Hobi

Afterward he finds himself walking to your best friend's house

He's surprised when you are the one answering the door

You're in a bathrobe with your hair in a messy bun like you do when you're applying makeup to go out

"I'm not ready yet, Chanyeol-" you say without looking and when you see Yoongi your breath catches in your throat

His eyes are puffy as if he's been crying or not sleeping, bleached hair messy

You look so beautiful that Yoongi wants to grab you and kiss you but your words are making doubt claw in his stomach

"Expecting someone else?"

He pushes past you before you can think and when he sees the bouquet of roses on the counter he thumbs one of the petals

You eye him warily

"Yoongi, are you drunk?"

"A little," he admits easily, looking you up and down. "I've been feeling pretty shitty since my girl walked out on me."

"Maybe you should've treated her better, then." You snap back

The corner of his mouth twitches. He loves it when you're sassy, but he feels uncertainty and jealousy rising in his chest

"Did you find someone to treat you better already, princess?" His voice is low, eyes flashing almost dangerously

It's kind of hot, really

But you're in shock at his accusation

"Wh.. what?"

"Chanyeol, was it? You must've met him while I was on tour. That's why you walked out over something so stupid, huh? Just an excuse." He reaches out to pluck another petal from the rose, and although his voice sounds eerily calm you can see his hand shaking

All of a sudden you're livid. After ignoring you for two weeks and calling you a brat via roses, he's really calling your concerns stupid and accusing you of cheating

"Get out." You say, voice shaking

He smirks at you bitterly. "Time for loverboy to show up? Aw, I wanted to stick around to see what the guy who's fucking my girl looks like."

His crude words pierce through you but before you can respond Chanyeol walks through the door unannounced.

"Hey, y/n, you ready?" He looks from you to Yoongi, bewildered

He takes a few steps toward you and then stops

Yoongi looks him over and then sets his jaw as if thinking for a moment

Then he lunges at the taller man, punching him square in the nose

You scream and try and yank Yoongi off of your best friend's live in boyfriend

He's already stopped, breathing hard

You go to Chanyeol who is gasping on the floor, blood all over the shirt he was wearing to take you and your bestie out since you were feeling sad

Yoongi looks down at you, looking miserable instead of angry

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Get out!" You scream, angry tears streaking down your face

Yoongi nods, and he goes, but not before he grabs the vase of roses with one hand and hurls it against the wall, glass shattering everywhere, making you scream out in surprise

He stomps out the door, stepping over Chanyeol as if he weren't there at all

Hoseok (J-Hope)

Deals with it in the healthiest manner of all the boys even though he legit has no idea why you left

Lets himself be sad, doesn't drink too much, just maybe overworks himself a little

Social media isn't an issue since you've never posted anything but memes and an occasional silly selfie

He goes through all the pictures in his phone though and gets emo

Gives you space

Hobi gives you a few days before he tries to reach you again

He could sense that you needed some time

He was hoping that was all you needed and then you would come home and explain things

You'd always been wary of expressing your negative feelings, knowing that Hoseok was such a positive person

You always said you didn't want to bring him down or stress him out

He wishes you had talked to him more

Wishes you had known that whatever was happening, he'd be by your side to work things out

When he calls, some guy answers, and it's not your brother's voice so he's shocked for a moment

The guy says hello a couple of times before he responds

"Um, is this y/n's phone?"

That was a stupid question since he was the one who paid your phone bill, but he was shook

"Yes. She's lying down because she isn't feeling so well. Can I take a message?"

Hobi doesn't miss that you must have deleted his contact name and that stings

"Just tell her Hoseok called?"

"Sure, man."

He hangs up and drums his hands on his knees, full of anxious energy

He's trying real hard not to jump to any conclusions

He's trying to be grateful that you have someone looking out for you, but he's internally screaming

Thankfully you call him back within the hour, before he can lose his mind completely

Tears spring to his eyes the second he hears your voice saying his name

"Sunshine!" He exclaims.

You can't help but smile at his nickname for you, even though you felt a lot darker than sunshine lately

"Hey, Hobi."

"Sunshine, what's going on? Where are you?" His voice sounds thick like he's about to cry and you hate it

"Don't worry about me. I'm just fine. I'm being well taken care of."

He's very quiet, and that's so unusual for him that you feel like you need to explain

"Jackson answered the phone for me. You know, my buddy from college?"

"Buddy" was an interesting term for an old college boyfriend, but Hobi was so grateful to talk to you he didn't complain

He'd met him, anyway, several times, and you were sure it would be awkward since you and Jackson had broken up a literal week before you met Hoseok

But Hobi was so sweet and not even remotely the jealous type and they'd actually gone out for beer and chicken a few times without you before BTS started the world tour

They were both rappers of course so you were sure they'd have plenty to talk about (they talked about you, mostly)

You knew hearing that it was Jackson would put his mind at ease

It did not

As much as Hobi did like Jackson he could see the way he looked at you with longing in his eyes

But it didn't matter because you were finally talking to him

"Sunshine, why did you leave me?"

"Oh, it's a long story. I just needed to get away for a while."

"I could've gone with you. It looks like you've moved out though, babe, I just wish you'd talk to me. When are you coming home?"

The silence on the line makes him feel a thousand miles away from you

"I...I don't know if I am."

His voice was choked with tears when he spoke again

"But...but why not? What did I do?"

"Nothing! Nothing, baby, you're perfect. It's me. It's all me. I can't...I can't be what you want anymore."

"You're everything I want. You're my sunshine, you know that."

You sigh

"That's just it. I can't be your sunshine anymore. I just have to be me for a while."

"Do you think I've been putting too much pressure on you? I know I talked about flying you out on tour but I just missed you so much-"

"I think I just need to move on, Hoseok."

You using his first name, not baby, not Hobi, was a bit shocking

"Move on? What does that mean?"

He hears a racket in the background

"I gotta go, babe. I'll call you next week, okay?"

"Next week? Sunshine, wait-"

You had already hung up

Hobi burst into Jin's apartment without announcing himself, knowing he left the door unlocked when he was home

Jin stopped mid bite of ramen

"Hyung, I need to talk to you."

Jin sat down his chopsticks carefully. "You hungry?"

After he all but forced Hobi to eat a little ramen, Jin asked, "Is it about y/n?

"Yes," Hobi said, squirming in his chair

"She won't me what's wrong, only that she needs time and needs to move on."

Jin, bad at hiding his facial expressions, winced

Hobi's heart sank

"What is it?"

"I don't know, bubs, but the only times I've ever heard that from a girl it's been bad news."

"How bad?"

Jin winced again. "Look, Hobi, I really don't know. Y/n has been going through some stuff lately..."

"She has? You've talked to her?"

"She called me a couple of times crying while we were on tour."

"What?! Crying? You didn't tell me?" He's all but yelling

"She begged me not to! She didn't tell me much, just that she had been in a bad place and she didn't want to worry you. I thought I talked her down, but maybe something is going on we don't know about."

Hobi started to cry and Jin hugged his friend

"I just don't know why she felt like she couldn't tell me, hyung."

Jin didn't have any answers for him, could only rub his back and hope you came clean soon

[angryteapot]

Book Seven

Book One // Book Two // Book Three // Book Four // Book Five // Book Six // Book Seven // #tea reads Masterlist

The Memory Keeper’s Daughter

~ Kim Edwards

Synopsis: Dr. David Henry and his wife Norah give birth to a set of twins on a winter night in 1964. His son is born perfectly healthy, but the doctor immediately realizes that his daughter has been born with Down’s Syndrome. He makes a split-second decision, believing he is doing the right thing. He asks him nurse Caroline to take the baby away to an institution. She instead takes the child and raises her as her own. This novel follows the story of all their lives, changing perspectives as the years progress.

I really liked this book, it was incredibly interesting and emotional. 

A/N: For those of you who missed my intro post, Here’s the gist of this thing: I’m trying to read more books this year, so I’ve taken to documenting them and writing out some of my favorite quotes from whatever I’m reading! Once I finish a book, I’ll make a post with a summary of the books and the quotes I like best!

If you’re interested in new reads or just quotes, and would like to be tagged, send me an ask or dm! If you have any reading recommendations, send them my way!

If you wanna blacklist these posts, I’ll be tagging them #tea reads

I’m always up for a discussion on whatever I post, or life in general, so come talk to me! Have questions, theories, complaints, deep thoughts? Come talk to me! x ~ Tea <3

*Quotes are below the cut!

[Quotes] 

[1964]

“It was the moment when all the disparate shards of his life seemed to knit themselves together, every past sadness and disappointment, every anxious secret and uncertainty hidden now beneath the soft white layers.” ~ David Henry 

“The silence was so deep and encompassing that he felt himself floating to a new height, some point above this room and then beyond, where he was one with the snow and where this scene in the room was something unfolding in a different life a life at which he was a random spectator, like a scene glimpsed through a warmly lit window while walking on a darkened street. That was what he would remember, that feeling of endless space.” ~ David Henry 

“I know you; I understand; I see what the others don’t.” ~ Caroline Gill 

“I wake to sleep,” ~ Norah Henry

“For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” ~ Caroline Gill 

“For if the worst had already happened to them in the eyes of the world, then surely, surely, it was the worst that they left behind them now.” ~ Caroline Gill 

[1965]

“Remembering this evening, the gloomy disappointment and... shimmering tokens from another world... How beautiful these things were to [her] and how remote, how unreachable. Depression - years later she would understand the murky light she lived in...” ~ Norah Henry 

“But neither did she want to be the person she seemed to be becoming, set loose by grief into a world that made no sense.” ~ Norah Henry 

““I couldn’t live like you do... I just couldn’t do it - break all the rules. Blow everything up.” “The world doesn’t end... Amazing, but it really doesn’t.”” ~ Norah Henry, Bree Asher

““You’re right... anything can happen, any time. But what goes wrong is not your fault. You can’t spend the rest of your life tiptoeing around to try and avert disaster. It won’t work. You’ll just en dip missing the life you have.”” ~ Bree Asher

“Sometimes... she would look at [him] and feel her ears filling up with the dark distant roar of the universe.” ~ Norah Henry

“She did not want to be stuck forever in this dark static night... an unreachable distance away.” ~ Norah Henry

[1970]

““Why are you afraid of change? Why can’t you just be and let the world unfold?” ~ Bree Asher

“Let me take your picture... kneeling, focusing, intent on preserving a moment that never really existed.” ~ Norah & David Henry

“She watched... the shimmering, unsteady world... arriving in dreams, standing on the unseen edge of every moment - [she] could no longer understand the world the same way.” ~ Norah Henry

“... never in a place that felt like home?” ~ Norah Henry

“What was happening there was happening here as well, in the quiet of her own backyard, in the secret places of her heart: an explosion, some way in which life could never be the same.” ~ Norah Henry

“Not glad. Not sorry. It happened, that’s all. We go on.” ~ Mark Bell

“He paused before [her] tulips, focusing in close, thinking how much they really did resemble the delicate tissue of lungs and how interesting it would be to frame shots of both and stand them next to each other, exploring this idea he had that the body was, in some mysterious way, a perfect mirror of the world.” ~ David Henry

“But bones were alive; they grew and mended themselves; they could knit back together what had been torn apart.” ~David Henry

“... she carried her sadness like a dark stone clenched in her palm.” ~ David Henry

“You could not presume to know what life was or what it might hold.” ~ Caroline Gill

[1977]

“How many times had she stood just this way, the subject and an object too, posed to evoke or to preserve what really did not exist, her true thoughts locked away?” ~ Norah Henry

““I could never capture this... what you are in this moment. I could never capture it.”” ~ Howard 

“... the world was precarious and sometimes cruel.” ~ David Henry

““I like music,” Paul said. “It makes me feel alive. I guess I don’t expect you to understand that.” “I understand it,” David said. “But there’s being alive, and there’s making a living.”” ~ David & Paul Henry

“What’s wrong with you, anyway? You live like you don’t care about anything. You don’t have any joy. You just get through the days, no matter what.” ~ Paul Henry

“Music is like you touch the pulse of the world. Music is always happening, and sometimes you get to touch it for a while, and when you do you know that everything’s connected to everything else.” ~ Paul Henry

“He’d kept this silence because his own secrets were darker, more hidden, and because he believed that his secrets had created hers.” ~ David Henry

“The songs felt like light and shadow, one set against the other, and now the notes had been woven into his own life, into the silence...” ~ Paul Henry

“A moment was not a single moment at all, but rather an infinite number of different moments, depending on who was seeing things and how.” ~ Paul Henry

“A moment might be a thousand different things.” ~ Paul Henry

[1982]

“This was her life. Not the life she had once dreamed of, not a life her younger self would ever have imagined or desired, but the life she was living, with all its complexities. This was her life, built with care and attention, and it was good.” ~ Caroline Gill

“Loss and grief: they rushed up through him like a wave, so powerful he leaned against the wall and bent his head, fighting a deep nausea. They were excessive, his emotions, disproportionate.” ~David Henry

“He did not really think about where he was going, though he knew. He saw he’d been caught, frozen for all these years in that moment... His life turned around that single action... It was as if he’d taken pictures all these years since to try and give another moment similar substance, equal weight. He’d wanted to try and still the rushing world, the flow of events, but of course that had been impossible.” ~ David Henry

“... pouring his loneliness and anger into music.” ~ David Henry

“And, rising in the darkness, the cold, he went.” ~ David Henry

“... when he closed his eyes he thought of the two rivers meeting, converging, and the dark waters swirling. not to fall but to jump: that was what had hung there in the balance.” ~ David Henry

““I don’t invent them so much as find them.” “You find them. Yes... I understand that. When I take pictures, that’s how it is. They’re already there, and I just discover them.”” ~ Rosemary, David Henry

“Her silence made him free. He talked like a river, like a storm, words rushing through the old house with a force and life he could not stop.” ~ David Henry

“... moved through their lives like point and counterpoint, one impossible without the other, one pulling always against the other.” ~ Paul Henry

“It soothed him, the music, in a way that nothing else did. He entered some other plane where his hands seemed to move automatically... He reached the end and stopped, eyes closed, letting the notes die away into the air. Never again. not this music, this moment, ever again.” ~ Paul Henry

[1988] 

““You can’t stop time... You can’t capture light. You can only turn your face up and let it rain down.” ~ David Henry

“Once she had imagined [them[ moving into such an old age, their histories woven together like vines, tendril around shoot, leaves meshed... She had imagined that, married, she would be some sort of lovely bud, wrapped int he tougher, resilient calyx of the flower. Wrapped and protected the layers of her own life contained within another’s. But instead she had found her own way... She was petal, calyx, stem, and leaf; she was the long white root running deep into the earth.” ~ Norah Henry

[1989]

“Her voice, high and clear, moved through the leaves, through the sunlight. It splashed onto the gravel, the grass. He imagined the notes falling into the air like stones into water, rippling the invisible surface of the world. Waves of sound, waves of light: his father had tried to pin everything fown, but the world was fluid and could not be contained.” ~ Paul Henry

And that concludes Book Seven, my lovelies! If you managed to read through even a part of this and found a quote you liked, my heart will be happy.

Thanks for stopping by my blog! x

~ Tea <3