STRANGERS FROM HELL

Okay Panko Shrimps-

How would we feel about an angsty fight between Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington over the reader? Except it's a choose your own adventure so y'all would get to pick a side and the story would change based on who you ended up with?

Or would we prefer more fluffy fics? I can't help but write Billy and Steve into the most heartfelt sweet things because they are the bees knees.

It's late and I drank an entire thing of butterbeer so I might just be going crazy with the Steve and Billy thoughts rn, but I just want your input!

Also, thank you guys for the love on the Stranger Things fics, the amount of support I've received from them is astronomical. 🥹 I love you.

Thank you!

💛🦐

Bones And All

Lee:

Passenger: Lee would follow you to the ends of the earth. A night he thought he was showing you just how much he loves you has to be reevaluated when he understands the pain you've been put through in the past.

(Romance/Smut/Fluff)

[call me by blondie playing] THE STEVE HARRINGTON BABYSITTING SERVICE

Nightly Encounter

Carl Grimes x Reader

Characters mentioned: Carl, Daryl, Michonne, Rick, Judith, Eugene, Carol, and Rosita

⚠️SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8-9⚠️

Warnings: Extreme angst, mentions of suicide, depressed reader, eating disorder

"(Y/N), turn around."

You were fidgety. This was a new territory, a new level of trust that Carl was putting in you. You knew you couldn't say no the minute he'd asked. He felt comfortable enough to show you the thing he hated most about himself. All in hopes that you would love that part of him too.

And of course you would, it wasn't even a question. But what if you said the wrong thing? What if you stared for too long, what if you looked away too fast? All these 'what ifs' ran through your head, making it impossible to think clearly. 'Calm down,' you told yourself, 'you're turning this into a bigger deal than it is.'

You heard the sound of his bandages being removed and the bed shifting under his weight. You waited for him to give you the sign that he was ready. When he did, you turned around slowly to make sure not to scare him. His head was looking downwards, his hair was in his face. You couldn't see anything but by the slump of his shoulders you knew he was terrified. You could practically hear his heart beating a mile a minute from where you were standing on the opposite side of the room.

You went to sit down on the bed and you grasped Carl's hands, inviting him to look at you. Once he put his head level with yours, you slowly reached out for the long hair that framed his face and you moved it away from his face.

What lie under it was the scar that had hurt him more emotionally than physically. It was large and took up most of the right side of his face, but you couldn't help but feeling as though it was beautiful. It was beautiful because it was a part of him.

"I'm sorry."

Those words shattered your heart when he said them aloud. Sorry for what? He had nothing to be sorry for. He had lost his eye courageously. He had lost his eye but not his smile. He had lost his eye, but not himself.

"Carl. You have nothing to apologise for. I think you're beautiful."

He looked up in pure shock and furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?! I have a hole in my head!" He angrily pushed his bangs back into his face and sprang up from the bed.

"Carl!" You called out after him, grabbing his wrist. He stopped and turned to look at you. He was fuming now, you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "Carl," you repeated, much kinder this time, "sit down. Please."

He sat down on the bed and folded his arms.

"Carl. Thank you so much for trusting me with this. I understand it's such a hard burden to carry but you don't have to carry it by yourself anymore. I think you're just as handsome as you were before. Maybe even more handsome. I love you and I wouldn't care if you shot out your other eye, I would love you just the same." You pushed the bangs back away from his gaping wound and you kissed his forehead, holding his head in your hands. "Please, never forget that."

He stopped being so tense and nuzzled into your touch. This was a lot of trauma to relive at once and you understood it was going to take more time for him to open up. But you were ready to be there for him when he did.

"I love you, (Y/N). Sorry for keeping my emotions from you for so long."

"Again, you have nothing to apologise for, Grimes. I love you and that won't change."

...

You played back the memory in your head. It seemed like a millennia ago that you were holding him in your arms like that. When the worst thing you guys had to worry about was a scar.

You tugged on the grass a little as you laid down on your chest. Your face was pressed against the grave of Carl, to your heart aching to hold him in the way you did before. To tell him that that stupid scar wasn't going to change anything because it didn't. It made you love him even more. Crazy how losing things like that makes your love stronger. Only this time, you'd lost him.

Your tear stained cheeks were starting to get itchy as you prepared yourself to stay another night with Carl. Everyone else was busy, even Rick who had somehow gotten over Carl's death so quickly. It felt shameful to you that he could lose someone so important and then continue as though there were more important matters.

You were ready. Ready to die. Carl was the last thing you'd had in this world and now that he was gone, you and wanted to have no part in it. This cruel world that was based on survival. This cruel world that killed the last beacon of hope. This cruel world that killed Carl Grimes.

Again, more tears came. It had to be almost a week now. You've refused to eat, drink, socialize, or even leave Carl alone. You couldn't. He was right there yet so far away. You could feel yourself slipping sometimes, fading in and out of sleep that was haunted with nightmares of your long-gone lover.

"Hey. I can't let ya stay out here any- jesus (Y/N)! When was the last time you've eaten?!" Daryl came up from behind, sitting down on the grass-Carl's grass- beside you.

...

The moon shone over the trees and cast a pale glow over the gazebo Carl led you to. His hand was in yours as he dragged you to his favorite spot in Alexandria. The place where he could see the stars the easiest.

"Just a little further..." Once you reached the small structure, he offered you his knee so you could climb up on the roof. It wasn't all that tricky, considering the gazebo was only a few feet up. You climbed up to the top and offered your hand to Carl but he denied it as he tried to climb up himself. 'Show-off' you thought as you smirked and laid on the patchy wooden roof.

You heard a grunt as Carl laid next to you, brushing the bangs out of his good eye. He grabbed your hand and looked at you before looking up above. You had to admit, the stars were beautiful and since light pollution was no longer a problem, there was more that you guys could see. But your focus wasn't on the stars, no. It was on Carl. The way that he looked at the world not knowing that your world was him. You could see the reflection of the stars in his eye, but they were there all the time. The boy really held the universe in him and he would change this cruel world one day. He had to.

When he noticed you staring, he scooted in closer.

"Whatcha thinking about?" He asked, a knowing look on his face. He knew that whenever you were lost in thought he'd be the one to bring you back down to earth.

"You. As usual," you smiled and pushed his hat over his eyes,

"All I ever think about is you."

...

"(Y/N)? Are ya listening?"

You forgot Daryl was sitting beside you and not Carl. You grunted as you tried to sit up but found that you didn't have the energy. It must've been days since you've gotten any food or sleep.

"Yeah. I'm listening." You replied but you knew you couldn't. No one could ever pierce your thoughts and knock the sense in you that you needed to hear. You were a thousand miles away.

"Look," Daryl sighed and played with the denim of his vest, "I know things are hard. But I also know this isn't what he woulda wanted. Carl was brave. He worked to keep this place safe....to keep you safe. He wouldn't want to see ya like this." Daryl leaned in and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I don' like seeing ya like this."

You could barely hear him over the rushing of your thoughts. Carl wouldn't have wanted you to live without him, right? You started this world together and you were supposed to end it that way. He got the chance to leave it first, but that shouldn't mean you should go about your days pretending that everything is fine. Nothing could be fine without him. He was your world and it didn't matter what Daryl would say, or Rick, or Michonne, or anyone else for that matter. Because your world had been taken from you twice. All because of those stupid flesh-eating bastards.

...

"(Y/N)!"

You woke up with a start. The grass you were laying on was covered in dew, meaning that it must've rained while you fell asleep after your talk with Daryl.

You reached for your knife, only to find that it wasn't there. Your eyes searched the area looking for it when you saw him.

His boots were all scuffed and muddy, his jeans were ripped and his gun holster was at his side, also empty. His long brown hair was bushy and his hat sat atop his head, exactly in the position you remembered it. Because right before you was Carl Grimes. The love of your life.

"(Y/N), can you hear me?"

Your whole body went into shock and before you knew it you started crying. Tears streamed down your face like never before as you watched him sit down next to you, reaching out to hold you. You sat in his arms for a few minutes as you let it all out, finally conveying the depression you had felt for days.

"Shhhh it's alright."

You suddenly stopped and got a grip on what was happening. Was this real? Carl had gotten bit by a walker. Surely there was no way he has suddenly come back to life to give your pathetic body a hug.

"What happened?? How are you here?" You uttered in disbelief.

He smiled. "(Y/N). I wanted you to find a home here. I don't want you to keep grieving my death. Alexandria is safe now and you're free to live again. Please don't give up because of me." He rubbed your back and pushed his hat up. "You would say the same if our positions were switched."

At this, you fell limp. Of course. What have you been doing all this time? You'd been so wrapped up in the death of your lover you forgot there were other people you had to care for. Rosita, Michonne, Eugene, Carol, Daryl, and even Judith. This was your home. This was a place where you didn't have to suffer from the harshness of the outside world. You could've been helping with the runs and cleaning but instead you were here and as much as you loved him, you knew Carl was right.

"I'm sorry, I- I just-" you held back your tears "living in this world without you- it's hard. I promised myself that there wouldn't be a day where I wouldn't wake up next to you. I love you so much. I- I'm sorry I couldn't save you." The last part came out in a rush. The words hurt you to say as much as they hurt Carl to hear.

"Hey. Listen to me." He titled your chin upwards so that you were looking at him. "What happened was not your fault, okay? It was mine and mine alone. I'm so sorry that I left you here. I should've been more careful. But I promise you're not alone. I'll be here with you everywhere you go. And I'll still be here when I'm just a memory. When you find someone else I'll be here cheering you on. When you have children I'll watch over them too. When you get old, I'll be waiting for you on the other side so that you have nothing to fear. I promise." He slid his hand into yours and wiped away your tears. You smiled- actually smiled as you caught a glimpse of his face for the last time.

"There's no way you'll ever be just a memory, Carl Grimes."

And then he faded away.

...

The lights in the infirmary stung your eyes as you opened them. You weren't lying outside anymore, and instead you found yourself in a bed wrapped in one of Carl's flannels.

You caught a glimpse of someone standing outside your doorway. "Hey- what happened?" You asked to no one in particular. You just wanted to know why you'd been moved.

The man standing in the doorway was none other than Daryl who had visited you that night. He was looking more healthy than usual, although he could use a good night's sleep. His bags were becoming more and more prominent.

He made his way over to your bed and sat down at the end of it, careful to leave you enough space. "Could've died last night. Your heart almost stopped."

This stopped you from asking anymore questions. So what happened last night wasn't a dream? Carl was really there? You had come face to face with death without even realizing it.

"(Y/N)-" Daryl began but you stopped him.

"I saw him."

Daryl's eyes grew wide. "Ya did?" He turned around so that he was looking directly into your eyes. "What'd he say?"

You smiled.

"I have a reason to keep living, Dixon."

Gifs aren't mine, thank you for reading <3

Goddamn Namjoon 💍🦆

wow he’s so fine [cr. dwellingsouls]

Tangerine’s face when Lemon said he wanted a bubble tea >>>

I just ripped three of my Kpop posters while taking them down since I'm moving.

I am devastated.

And Yeonjun's missing eye is taunting me.

you (dumb, never heard of fight club): if I buy things I will be happy

me (smart, watched fight club): I’m going to punch someone in a basement

For The Glory of Rome

MARCUS ACACIUS X READER

You're finishing your senior year at Orpheus University when your history class is chosen to give an evaluation on one of the professors. Why does he feel so familiar?

⚠️ Past lives AU! Reader is Geta and Caracalla's sister! Reader is also 22 years old, Pedro is older. ⚠️

The mountains were just visible through the window you were sitting next to; their peaks reaching toward the sky above, almost as if in embrace. They were beautiful at this wintry time of year, with the snow cascading down their formations and painting them white. Bare trees that flanked them transformed into branches of green where the cold hadn't hit just yet- your eyes traveling further down the scene. It was that transitory period of the merging seasons, where autumn became winter and left everyone with an odd illness due to the changing weather patterns. Both snow and leaves were tracked inside the bustling classrooms that were alive with the excited chatter amongst the students. Everyone was excited for the upcoming break that would mark the end of the semester. For you, it would mean the midway point of your senior year at Orpheus.

You'd gone to Orpheus all three years of your college career so far, immediately entranced by the large stone pillared building it was. It was so different from your usual pace in the rainy countryside, with its suburban feel and authentic restaurants. It wasn't immediately that you felt the urge to explore the grand halls of the place and to make it your home, but that feeling came soon enough. One glance at the psychology department and a sip of coffee from the bistro down the road were enough to convince whatever part of you left unsure this would be the place. Even with how far you had to uproot yourself and make such a move, you'd made the connections you'd needed and the friends you'd always wanted.

Lee had sat himself next to you this morning with a coffee cup in hand and his phone in the other. He was addicted to that screen- any video that would appear around his recent interest in Danish pop music would be enough to send him down a spiral of excitement. The coffee, however, was for you.

"Morning!" He said, way too chipper for an 8:00am class. He usually went to Starbucks way too close to the time you were meant to be seated with only a minute left to spare. How he didn't have crippling anxiety around his time management, you'd never know. But he did bring you a drink.

"Hey, Lee." You said, with as much energy as you could muster at the moment given how tired you were. "Thanks for the coffee."

Lee threw his bag onto the ground under the long tables in the lecture hall. His spot had been on the other side of the room for the majority of the class as he'd argued he couldn't focus if seated next to you for laughter purposes. However, today he plopped himself down into the one next to you with his notebook open to the most recent material from last week. His hair was a mess as he'd most likely not had the time to brush it but at least his pants matched his shirt today.

"Yeah, 'course."

You took a sip of the drink, wincing slightly at the heat on your tongue. He'd remembered you liked your coffee black.

This morning, you had your history course which was conveniently in the building furthest from your shared apartment. Deciding the added three minutes to your walk would mean a warmer outfit for the day, you wore a white button down with fleece tights under your skirt. You had to substitute your usual leather jacket in favor for a heavier coat but still opted to wear the full face of makeup you had on every day. Eyeliner was your saving grace and you swore you'd never be caught outside without it on. You weren't much of a "girly girl," but that beauty product was the one exception.

Your shoes were still a little damp from the snow and the water had melted into the bottom of your bookbag, to your dismay. Your notebook was mostly fine except for the bottom edge, where the pen ink had run together, ruining your script.

"Did you hear about the evaluation today?" Lee asked, with his arm outstretched, offering you one of the Starbucks napkins to dry your notebook.

You hummed in a quizzing tone, signalling you didn't hear about it as you got to work cleaning up the mess before class started. There wasn't much you could do about the few pages that had been destroyed, but thankfully it wasn't the topic you needed at the moment.

"Well," Lee went on assuming you wanted him to continue, "Professor Klotsbach had to officially go on maternity leave so they're giving us someone else for the duration of this year. Apparently they're having this new guy come in today and we get to decide whether we like him or not." Lee said, rustling through his own belongings. "The history majors are saying this is the fifth one this semester."

"Oh? that'll be interesting. I didn't realize she was out already." You stated, throwing the napkins into your coat pocket. At least that meant this class would be easy today and you wouldn't have to worry too much about the notes. You took another sip of your coffee and turned your attention back to the large window to stare at the mountains again. The sun was really starting to come up now, which would hopefully make the walk home warmer. The sunlight shone over the leaves and made its way into the classroom, turning the wood paneling into that comforting auburn color you loved. Even with the weather outside, the inside felt like summer.

You directed your attention back to Lee, who was now back on his phone. You decided you weren't too tired for a conversation.

"I wonder why they're so particular about a professor for a general education course?" You asked, inquiring Lee as though he'd know the ins and outs of how the administration worked. Orpheus was always a semi-prestigious university; you wondered if they did so many evaluations for all the subjects.

"No idea," he said, taking a sip of his own drink, "I guess they wanted insight from other majors as well."

"Ah." You said, thankful that it would at least be some form of deviance from your usual schedule. After this, you and Lee had plans with the rest of your roommates to go to the bistro down the road so you considered today an easy one. A listening lecture followed by a sweet treat was a great morning.

As you were thinking of your plans, the door on the right side of the room finally opened, meaning the professor had officially walked in and class was about to start. Lee put his phone in his pocket although he didn't turn it off, so you assumed he was listening to music. You scavenged in your case for a pencil that wasn't broken and directed your focus to the front of the room, where the evaluated professor would begin.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

This man had to have been about ten years older than you but he was gorgeous. The brown in his eyes and his hair shone under the sun with such elegance; he appeared to be a painting. His brown leather jacket placed stylishly over his buttoned shirt- save for the two at the top- and his dress pants neatly drawn with a belt. An expensive one at that. He looked less like a professor and more like the cover of a teenage romance novel. Even his facial hair was properly trimmed and accentuated the angular curves of his face, which widened into a heartthrobbing smile.

"Hello, I'm Mr. Marcus." He said, turning around and writing it onto the chalkboard with whatever chalk was left in the tray from the class before. He then wiped his hands against each other and stood in front of the desk, leaning against it in an effortless grace as he stared at the class. His eyes scanned the room before they fell on you. It was only for a moment before he looked elsewhere, but you were starstruck and your stomach flipped.

Lee snickered quietly at the face you were making which took you out of your trance. "Dilf season, huh?"

Your cheeks were flushed and your whole body felt hot. It was unlike you to immediately be so caught off-guard. You shook it aside and attributed it to intimidation. That had to be it, you were just nervous of a new professor and at this guy's confident yet inviting demeanor.

"Shut up, Lee." You said with a small smile, so he'd know not to take offense although you were serious. You didn't want to draw any attention to your heart beating wildly in your chest.

As he continued talking, however, the burning in your abdomen only got stronger. There was something to this man, some sense of familiarity that struck you defenseless, although you were unsure as to why. You were certain you'd never seen the man before in your life, yet there was an undeniable pull that rendered you speechless for the rest of the class. He was wonderful at explaining everything in full detail and perfect when it came to answering questions. One thing was for certain though, and that was there'd be no way you could focus on any topic if Mr. Marcus was the professor. Despite how well he performed his job, you just couldn't concentrate. So, when the papers came around at the end of the class for the evaluation, you checked the box stating your disinterest in Mr. Marcus as your professor. How would you be expected to learn in a place where he was the teacher if you were so flustered? All you wanted to do was go home and decompress.

You submitted your paper to the front of the room, Lee in tow. You placed it face down on the desk even though the evaluations were anonymous; you felt awful for the decision you made. How was it fair for him to do everything perfectly and to not be granted the occupation?

As you were about to turn towards the door, you locked eyes with Mr. Marcus. They were a golden honey brown, very similar to the warmth of the room you were in, and they had you entranced. He smiled at you and raised his eyebrows as invitation for conversation, which was when you realized you'd been standing there in front of him with open eyes for longer than you meant to.

"Miss (Y/N), did you enjoy the lecture?" He asked, calm and composed. He must've read your name off the seating arrangement sheet and pieced two and two together.

"Uh, yeah-yes. Yes, I did. I find Rome pretty fascinating." You said, trying to regain your own composure. You smiled back at him in a last effort to appear normal and then walked out of the room and into the large hall where Lee followed close behind.

Alone in the Lecture Hall once all the students had departed, Marcus let out a hitched breath. You must have noticed it too? There was something so off about you and he was immediately drawn to your presence the minute he'd entered the room. It was as if he'd bumped into you before, only this odd feeling of familiarity was far more intense than anything he'd encountered before.

He learned against the desk for support and reached for the evaluation papers. He remembered exactly which one you'd placed down as he counted the number of sheets placed on top. He was unsure as to why he needed this clarification so badly, as if the evaluation was going to be enough insight as to how you truly felt about him.

You'd written that he performed everything perfectly. Checked all the boxes showing the administrators that he'd done as he should. But, at the end of the form, you'd written you didn't want him to have the job.

He smiled to himself, just slightly. He must've been overreacting.

...

It was with disdain that his eyes followed yours, the vituperative look etched into his skin. He appeared no older, even with the worry lines becoming apparent as he frowned; kohl seemingly molded into the flesh of his face with its darkness around his eyes. His tunic adorned with goldened jewelry held his red cloak fastened at his shoulder, which swiftly moved side to side as he walked about the palace floor. With his domineering personality and flamboyant demeanor, one could argue he very much belonged here. But those who truly knew him, such as you, would argue the complete opposite. A child in the body of man, ruling over the Roman Empire with the ability to kill any one of the men who'd built the imperial palace with the flick of his wrist.

And to think, he was your brother.

Emperor Geta manically moved back and forth, his steps echoing in the greatness of the hall where the two of you stood. Your other misfortune of a sibling somewhere entranced by his monkey, you presumed. Even with neither of them being much too intelligent, Geta was definitely the force to be reckoned with. This flurry of anger he felt was often of your own doing and today was no different- although the situation was more dire than previous mishaps.

What was usual sibling banter had turned into something fierce, unforgiving. It seemed as though the two of you no longer stood on the same plane and no words could be spoken to alleviate the tenseness between you two.

"There's a traitor-" He began, voice laced with more anger than anything else now that the shock had subsided. "Someone is helping the Senate to conspire against us. A traitor within the castle?" Geta dramatically flung his fingers over his heart and buried it into the fabric of his dress, steadying himself from falling as if he were intoxicated.

"I've heard nothing of the sort, brother." You let out, hardly above a whisper. It felt wrong for the secret to spill past your lips after all this time of keeping it. Although this had been going on for nearly five months, to speak it aloud even partially breathed it into existence. You, who had no family other than Geta and Caracalla, were plotting the demise of both of them. Rome was a collective and you'd been appointed to preserve the democracy of the people- something your brothers had turned into tyranny under their rule. However, it seemed as though they'd just caught wind of the plot without knowing who was leading the rebellion. Of course, Geta would eventually figure it out but the best thing you could do would be to deny anything that would lead to you or Acacius. He would have his head by morn and yours by the next.

Geta focused his eyes toward the nearest column so as not to look at you, forcing himself to tongue over the idea as it repeated within his head. His ornate laurel wreath crown he wore glistened in the light from above, casting a radiant glow on the floor. He was beautiful, if undeservingly so.

"Geta." You started, still fighting the fear that was always prevalent when conversing with your brother, "You are the emperor. Who would dare conspire against you?" you asked, knowing you had to do damage control. It all felt too real and too sudden for anything to happen just yet, this was unplanned. There was still so much more to be done and now that Geta had heard, Caracalla would be next to be informed- potentially halting the senate from being able to make a proper move. Your brothers would behead them all and force you to watch.

There had to be an informant within the Senate, someone who sided with your brothers in hopes of some grand reward for ratting you out. If they told Geta of the uprising, there's no telling how long it would take until they knew you and Acacius were leading it.

Suddenly, it was as if the color returned to Geta's white painted face. The creases that had formed out of worry now resumed with a smile so horrid and vile that your stomach seemed to drop to your toes with dread. The redhead inched closer to you until he was standing directly before you, inches away from your faltering breath. Smug look upon his face with his hands placed behind his back, he whispered in your ear the one thing you never wanted to hear from him.

"Make sure to relay this message to the Senate. If I hear of any further plans or catch the name of anyone involved within the operation, I will make sure the streets of Rome run red with their excrements."

Your veins turned to ice. It was as if your body had become as still as the marble statues surrounding the two of you. The sunlight hitting your brother's hair was not a warm and comforting light, but the light of a thousand fires ready to destroy anything within its path. You could smell the antimony from his makeup, and it was churning your stomach the longer you stood next to him. And then, he pulled you into a forceful embrace.

"You're my brethren, (Y/N). But bloodshed triumphs over blood. My mercy doesn't spill out of my fingertips such as the weak do. I am to carry on the tree of my lineage and I will do so from the seed of my power. Don't let me ever hear my dear sister has fallen into the conspiracy of the people."

Then he left, and a piece of your soul died with the slam of the door behind him.

...

General Marcus Acacius, still clad in the paludamentum from the evening's dinner, gathered himself after a lengthy conversation with some of his troops. He was fortunate for the day's conquer, but he was entirely ready to return to his chambers to meet with his love; hoping she could soothe the grievances that emanated from his soul. A slight glance into the reflection of the gate showed a man worn down by war. Physically and spiritually he felt beaten and old. His face, which had appeared so bright when he'd first started his efforts, had now succumbed to the weight he felt inside. He was duller than the man he'd always been. A light had been extinguished and would never again be set aflame. His body felt as though it were an empty chamber, hollow with only the sounds of the maternal screaming he heard from war. Mothers calling home their only sons that would stay calling for the remainder of their lives. Praying for the boys who'd become soldiers, fallen under an empire that prided themselves on greatness.

The Romans were cruel murderers. And he did their bidding.

Trying his best to push his stressors aside, he stepped into the small garden flanking the back perimeter of the palace, knowing that was your usual place upon nightfall. The fountain seemed to hum as the water rushed down into the basin. The sounds of bugs chirping filled his ears. The calmness of the fire tamed within the confines of the torches made flickering shadows upon the stones beneath his feet.

And then, there was you. Turning to face him once he'd entered the palace and meeting his gaze. He'd sworn he never understood the meaning of goddess until he'd met you. From the first encounter at the palace, Acacius knew he was in love. Every statue and painting couldn't compare to the beauty that radiated off you, he knew. Your eyes were pools of mystery and your skin softer than the sheets lining the bed you shared, fragile under the callouses of his hands that were worn by the hilt of his sword. You were a delicacy. He thought you were more striking than the sun itself.

The word love would never be enough to describe the power that flowed through his veins upon the mere mention of your name or the gentleness of your kiss.

You were here in your usual palla, the purple dye of the fabric shimmering under the soft glow of the fire. Your face was hardened into a concerned expression and your lips were downturned. What was usually a gleeful expression when your fiancé returned home safely seemed to be just a little short of animosity.

Acacius immediately went to place his hands gently at your sides, pulling you in slightly with a quizzical look, assessing for any physical ailments. "What troubles you, my Lady?"

You wanted to cry, to scream, to let out all your frustrations through vile words such as your brothers did, but you felt so beaten down you couldn't even formulate the words. Acacius had done nothing wrong but be within your proximity. And now your lover would be subjected to the unforgiving wrath of Geta.

"My Lady?" He asked once more, softer this time. He had a rough day, you could tell, and his forehead lines became more apparent as his brows furrowed. His beard was trimmed but not shaven, so as not to flaunt off some of the scars he'd gathered below his nose. He had one on his cheek and one on the back of his hand that you would run your fingers over in an intimate embrace. He was beautiful, even with the years of war embroidered into his skin. He was your heart.

"It's Geta," you finally mustered, holding Acacius's hand to your cheek and letting a tear fall, "he's enlightened to our uprising."

It was the General's turn to express his worry. "How was he informed?" Hs asked, pulling you in for a stiff hug as he was still wearing his breastplate.

"Macrinus must have caught word after last night's gathering. W-we were so careful, I-"

"Shh." Acacius said, slowly rubbing circles into your back, "We'll be okay, we'll find a way." He said this almost so convincingly you wanted to believe it yourself. But you knew Geta would do his best to punish you in every way humanly possible. There would be no escaping.

"We can run away before they find out its us-"

"To where? We both have the faces of those known in Rome, we'll never even make it past the gate without our identities being revealed. And then what? Where will we go that has no promise of being conquered?" He asked, holding onto you as though your arms alone would ground him. "And (Y/N), you know my heart belongs to you and the people. I couldn't leave one in place of the other."

Any form of democracy was going to be dead if your brothers continued to be the ultimate monarchs the were. Their reign had caused nothing but horrors to the people .

"Geta may want my head when he finds out, but he'll never kill you," Acacius said, looking into your eyes, "He'd never kill our kin." At this, his hand dropped to your stomach, caressing the top of it gently.

"You will not die without me." You said, knowing what he would suggest in the hopes of keeping you safe. "I will not allow it."

"And then what? You die and there will be no hope. Not for the people or politics or our son. My work to free us from the grasp of Rome will be for nought."

Your tears started to cascade down your face as quickly as they came, taking your kohl along with it. This was unfair. All of it was unfair. You wanted nothing to do with your brothers or ruling or Rome or anything. All you'd hoped for was to live peacefully in a world without it- how foolish.

"I love you, Acacius. You know this." You said, burying your face into his shoulder. You took in the metallic scent of his breastplate, trying to ease yourself. You knew as a general that he would never leave Rome defenseless.

"As I love you," he said, moving you gently so you were facing each other, "You know what has to be done."

You composed yourself and met his eyes, trying to find solace in them. He felt more like family than the insufferable gingers you shared a bloodline with. And you knew you'd do anything to protect the family you made for yourself, even if that meant sacrificing the birth one.

"We have to kill them." You said. You found the words didn't trouble as much as you thought they might.

Cute things that you and Johnny do

Pairing: Johnny x Reader

Warnings: Overly affectionate Johnny 😩

This man loves you with all his heart

And he finds every way possible to show you

Buys you flowers when you've had a long day at work

Gives you back massages when you're tired

Offers you his clothes when you're lonely

And buys you strawberries when you get hungry

But y'all always do really cute things to tell each other how happy you are

You sleep snuggled into his side, your face buried in his chest and his arms wrapped around you

And if you don't, he had a hard time sleeping; if he sleeps at all

You have a habit of playing with his fingers when you snuggle

And holding his hand when you walk together

Kissing each other's foreheads

Snuggling ALL THE TIME

Johnny is a snuggler

So he always finds a way to hold you, whether you're out, if you're at home, if you're asleep, you name it

He's very comfortable with PDA

In fact, he gets confused when sometimes you're shy about your relationship around other people

You tell him it's just because you haven't been in a relationship for a while

He understands, and you eventually get used to Johnny's means of affection

Talking walks through forests under trees and watching the water

It's always like something out of a fairytale

And he manages to pack a lunch for the two of you; apple and ranch sandwiches

You wipe off the extra ranch that dripped on his chin

He gets slightly embarrassed, he's used to doting on you, not so much the other way around

When it's time for bed,he wraps you up in your shared giant duvet

And he carries you to the bedroom zoo wee mama

And he puts on your TXT sleep playlist to help you drift off peacefully