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I had an idea at 2am that Janus sarcastically asks Roman to marry him during arguments, but each time he asks he means it a little more until he realizes he’s completely in love with Roman, until he can’t stand the rejection anymore and runs away because Roman would never believe him if he admitted his feelings, only for Roman to come after him and propose instead. 

This isn’t quite that, though it is in a similar vein. I started with that idea and it evolved into this. That being said, if anyone wants to take the original idea and run with it, feel free, just remember to tag me!


         The first time he asks, he doesn’t mean it in the slightest. They’re in the middle of an argument, him and Logan against Roman and Patton, Virgil staying out of it, either because he didn’t have an opinion or he didn’t want to get involved.

         “Roman, you’re absolutely charming right now. Won’t you marry me already?” He snaps, breath hissing in and out, and everyone freezes at his comment. Roman’s face has gone red, from anger or embarrassment, he can’t tell, but the longer the silence goes on, the more he feels his own shame at his words burning at his throat. “sorry. That was… out of line.” He mumbles, adjusting his capelet.

         “I apologize, also. You are correct, I have not been my most… chivalrous, this afternoon. Perhaps… perhaps we should all take a break, to calm down. Then we can work out a… compromise?” Roman says, face flushing redder at the question in his voice. The moment is broken by Virgil slow clapping from the stairs.

         “Wooow, both of you apologized and Princey suggested a compromise? It’s a miracle!”

         “Yes, thank you, Virgil. Your sarcasm had been duly noted, and disregarded. Now. Don’t come get me when we’re ready to start over.” He comments, popping back to his room before anyone else has time to comment.

         The second time, he’s had a bad day. He feels heavy and disjointed, not all there, not all focused. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, he just knows he didn’t sleep well and he can’t seem to get comfortable, so he forces himself out of bed and down the stairs, dragging his blanket behind him, before collapsing on the couch. It’s almost 1pm, far later than his usual first appearance in the commons since the whole wedding debacle, since he was accepted, truly, since he was welcomed.

         He doesn’t remember drifting off, but he shoots awake as he feels a hand on his shoulder, letting out a small groan, having flung his arm over his eyes at some point.

         “What on earth could possibly be important enough to disturb me for, Roman?” he asks, wincing at the pounding that has started near his temple.

         “Are you okay?” He snorts at the question, rolling his eyes as he halfheartedly glares at Roman.

         “Just peachy.” He snarks, and Roman backs away, hands in the air. He can feel Roman’s eyes on him as he left the room, and sinks deeper into the couch. He’s surprised when a moment later, Roman returns from the kitchen, sitting down next to him.

         “Alright. Here you go.” He looks down at the table, a bit confused.

         “What… is this?” Roman looks at him, lip quirked up in a half smile.

         “Well that, is a glass of water. And that is something for the headache you’ve got cooking in your noggin. And those are crackers, since you have not eaten anything all day.” He looks slowly up at Roman, eyes narrowed.

         “I am not sick.” Roman’s eyebrow raises.

         “I did not say that. You, however, just did.” He groans, sinking even further into the blanket, so his eyes are just barely visible.

         “I do not get sick.” He mumbles.

         “Of course not, bananaconda. Now take the medicine.” He sighs, but complies, drinking the rest of the water and nibbling at some crackers as well. He barely notices Roman getting up, coming back a moment later with a Gatorade, and dimming the lights. He breathes a sigh of relief as some of the pain dissipates.

         “God, I could marry you right now.” He mumbles, finding the Gatorade is cold, and he lets Roman rest a cold rag on his forehead.  

         “I think the fever’s getting to your head, Jan.” He doesn’t reply, just hums and closes his eyes, trying to squash down the warm, fuzzy feeling starting to grow in his chest.


         The third time he doesn’t say it. He’s in his room, relaxing in his plush desk chair. He’d been doing a color by number, choosing whatever color he wanted for each number instead of going by the recommended color chart.

         He hears a knock on his door, and gets up, confused when he sees no one there. Then he looks down, and sees a small gift basket, wrapped in a red ribbon with a small card printed with Roman’s logo. He rolls his eyes, and brings it inside, smiling as he unpacks it.

         There’s a collection of lotions, each of which smells deep and heady, just the kind of scent he loves. There’s also a few moisturizing oils, for his scales, which he’s a bit grateful for, he can tell his shed is about to start and making his own was a bit of a hassle. He laughs at the small snake plushie, but drapes it across his bed’s headboard anyway, smiling fondly as he leans against the bed for a moment, before his eyes widen and he nearly slaps himself.

         No. no no no, he cannot do this, he cannot do this to himself, he will not be so stupidly naïve.

         He is not in love with Roman.

Keep reading

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IDK if this is pining, but it sure is something.

Tags: @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @demon-dark-666 @moonysmayhem @xpouii @projectwkm @sororia04s @purple-anxiety-blog

Prompt: “I didn’t believe you cared.”

    He didn’t remember falling asleep; merely remembered drifting in and out of bleary, half-formed consciousness, and wasn’t sure that he remembered a strong, firm chest and a uniform that smelled of sweat and electricity. 

    Was he dreaming?

    He had to be; Jackie had been gone for years.

“You can’t survive on coffee forever, Hen. Your body’s gonna give out eventually.” Beneath his ear was a heartbeat, beating faster than any normal human’s could. Above him was the voice. Familiar. Comforting. Strong.

How Henrik missed that voice. He felt it in his bones, deeper than any ache of exhaustion or fear; the dull throb of longing. 

“Jackie,” he mumbled, tongue feeling thick and slow. He fought his own fatigue, to prove Jackie’s existence with his own, bloodshot eyes, but they wouldn’t open; his eyelids felt sewn shut.

“I’m here, Hen.” Jackie’s voice sounded so real. How could he be dreaming?

“I didn’t …” Henrik mumbled, half-asleep, half-disbelief, voice cracking. “I didn’t believe you cared.”

Jackie laughed; a beautiful sound that Henrik felt rumbling through his chest. That he heard beneath his ear. “Of course I care, Henrik,” he murmured, almost too soft to be heard. “It’s because I care that I can’t be around.”

What? Henrik opened his mouth, but before he could speak– or utter a low groan– Jackie said, “go to sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

But will you be there? Henrik wanted to ask– even though he already knew the answer– but his consciousness was slipping, pulled into the black, warm abyss by strong arms and a slow, rocking movement.

He would wake, hours later, alone; head blurry, he couldn’t be entirely sure how he got from the clinic to his bed, save for a faint memory of a warm chest and a uniform that smelled of sweat and electricity.

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Note: This is the first fanfic I officially post online! Being completely unhappy over the ending of our beloved FFXV, I decided to change its conclusion and add a little twist to it…while also satiating my Ignis thirst LOL. The Chocobros also deserve to be happy, and anyone can fight me on that! XD FFXV is a beautiful game, and I hope to do it justice! Without further ado, here is the prologue to Roscidus Eos. Enjoy!

Also wanna take this quick moment to announce some trigger warnings because we’re all about a safe environment for our lovely readers! :3

Warnings: anxiety, references to depression, self-doubt, mental health issues, blood, violence.


Hark, O Chosen King.

The heart of Eos has spoken;

Pained by the inequity of his ordained destiny,

A new path has been bared.

One where all shall be corrected,

And the Gods can ill meddle.

A Liberator from a foreign land will shatter the shackles of Eos.

Go to Thummel’s Glade, and seek the crystal.

His azure eyes shot open. With a gasp, he sat up abruptly. Heart pounding and labored breaths filled the quiet space. Covered in a sheen of cold sweat, his black hair clung tightly to his forehead. He gripped his head in pain, mumbling under his breath as the imagery of his dreams replayed in his mind.


He remembered running. The clacking of boots against pavement. Multiple people rushing beside him… His friends? Indistinct voices. ‘This way!’ A young woman’s voice. He hadn’t heard it before. Her form had been blurry in front of him; all he could make out was curly black hair…

A Liberator from a foreign land… 

That other voice echoed in his mind. It was the High Messenger’s, he was sure of it. He’d recognize her voice anywhere.

What did she mean by ‘the heart of Eos’? There was only one thing considered to be the heart of the planet: the Crystal, which was currently under Niflheim custody. How could it be pained by his ordained destiny? The current Oracle, Luna, had taught him all she knew about the Cosmogony, so Noctis was well aware of his unavoidable fate… ‘A new path has been bared, one where all shall be corrected, and the Gods can ill meddle?’ What did she even mean?

His muddled brain could barely even focus on both his thoughts and her words. His gaze trailed outside, through the tent’s unzipped window. It was still pitch black out. Dark, thick clouds had veiled the stars, and only the soft blue light of the haven illuminated the campsite. His mind began to race, completely whisking him away.

Suddenly, he heard a distant whisper from the High Messenger herself in the recesses of his mind. “Wisteria Lynn.” He repeated the words. Was that their name? Was this Wisteria someone who could really ‘shatter the shackles of Eos’ like Gentiana had prophesied in his dreams? Only the gods had that sort of power. Who was this person? And why was he only hearing about this now? His dad never mentioned anyone like this…


All too fast, his mind replayed every recent occurrence… The passing of his only family; his father and king, who perished along with their home, Insomnia. Luna, his betrothed, traveling alone, healing the people while also on the run from Niflheim. He had learned that she had managed to escape their grasp after Insomnia’s fall. This information only gave him a brief respite before it began creating an anxiety that he refused to admit to having, only to keep himself sane, to be honest. He was afraid she could get caught again… And the ordeals he and his friends continued to face added to his worry - it was partly why he almost always chose to sleep. He hated to admit it, but he was so worried that his thoughts always clawed at his heart. What if something went wrong along the way? What if he could never fill his father’s shoes? What if his friends got hurt too? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if any of them got severely injured…but what if? What if it did happen? What if–


A velvety voice and a hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He snapped his head to the side to find Ignis sitting up and looking at him through tired eyes. Gladiolus and Prompto were also awake; the former staring in worry, while the latter rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Are you alright?” Ignis asked quietly.

Noctis lowered his head. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “I just…” He inhaled sharply, gathering his thoughts. “Gentiana spoke to me in my sleep.” This seemed to wake the guys up fully. They knew the appearance of the High Messenger always came with matters of great importance.

“W-what did she say, Noct?” The blond’s voice quivered slightly.

He looked at them silently, gathering his thoughts. Then, taking a deep breath, he began sharing everything he had seen in the dream.


Read the rest on AO3!

I hope you all like and support my work! :D (I’m new to this, so I hope I did okay with the trigger warnings and all!)

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you can combine the dark academia aesthetic with cottagecore, you know. escaping the pressing tensions at your university, where you feel you cannot be safe, cannot be yourself. going to a small sea side cottage with a Certain Someone to breathe.

think about it. pining in the hallways and courtyard. yearning as you stare at them, as they gaze at the sea beneath them.

that’s all very gay.

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Written in the Stars (Lucifer x Angel!Reader)

Four thousand years is a long time. In the absence of your most cherished friend, it feels even longer. But when a certain student exchange program in the Devildom reunites you and Lucifer, things aren’t the same. Because four thousand years of separation is a long time. And the love you once felt for Lucifer has changed into something different—something forbidden. But that might not even be your biggest problem, because with each passing day, your holy wings are turning blacker and blacker.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ | ✎ |


Keep reading

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The Serial Killers Next Door by whenshewrites

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4527

Sarah was fairly sure her new neighbors were serial killers, part of a cult, or super kinky.


Five times the neighbors see Stiles and Derek being totally in love, and the one time the two idiots actually realized they might be.

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Jeno has two problems. One being his allergies and two being his massive crush on Donghyuck. Both of which have proven to be a big pain in the ass now that spring has rolled around, the flowers are in full bloom and his life is starting to look like a shoujo manga, and only one of which can be solved with Allegra.

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(Continued from here.)

The Solos’ new puppy squirmed in Armie’s arms, obviously trying to follow Ben. Armie was so preoccupied he barely had the presence of mind to carry the dog to the back door and put him inside; the look on Ben’s face had been strange, like he was upset, and the way he’d let out a huff and stormed off…

Armie wondered if he should go after Ben; it would be dark soon, and Ben wouldn’t be safe out there alone, no matter how big he was.

But Armie’s stomach was roiling, because he’d cuddled and cooed at that puppy like a little baby in front of Ben, and he must have looked completely stupid, and that look on Ben’s face must have been disgust that Armie could be such a weakling; Armie had been so careful for so long to hide the soft, useless parts of himself, but he’d gotten careless somehow, and now Ben despised him just like everyone else did.

And so Armie went into the house instead, and he petted the puppy goodbye and did his best not to cry.

(Continued here.)

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There’s actually been asks specifically for fics like this before, so I’m sure there are some people here that will want to read it, dear!

Somebody to Love by Bookwormgal

Everyone knows that demons can’t feel love. It was one of those well-established facts that no one even bothered to doubt anymore. The sky is blue, the Ineffable Plan was beyond comprehension or understanding, angels do not question or doubt Her commands, and demons can’t love. Angels could sense love and none of them ever sensed love in the presence of demons. Everyone considered that to be conclusive evidence and moved on. Believing otherwise was foolish and a waste of time.

But while it was considered an unquestionable fact of the universe, it wasn’t quite accurate. Demons were perfectly capable of feeling love. Any form of love. Despite common knowledge and despite the fact that the Fall ensured that they could no longer sense Her love, demons can experience love.

What demons can’t do, however, is feel love and survive.

~Mod P

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Vena Amoris by PaperPlaneChemTrails

Hannibal | Hannibal/Will | 50k+ | AU | Reality TV show AU; yet everything else is the same; murder!

Will Graham is a producer on a Bachelor knock off reality TV show. Against his protests and better judgement, Dr. Hannibal Lecter is cast as the primary love interest on the show. Despite his many initial misgivings, Hannibal is a hit, and Will finds himself as drawn into the story Hannibal is creating as everyone watching at home. Everything is going well until Will becomes suspicious that he is the real object of Hannibal’s affections, and all of a sudden contestants start to turn up murdered.

“Will you be content having me refuse you?” Will said, challenging.
“I am not often refused.”
“And I admit I am rarely chased - let’s leave it at that and just enjoy the novelty.” Will said.
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