amarmoria

[amarmoria]

Love and Legion│Act Ⅰ

Summary: 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 adopted you almost 14 years ago, after a catastrophic invasion of your country from the two tyrannic Twin Emperors of Rome, only just two years after sending her son away, she can't help but feel pity and guilt at a little child who was just a years younger than her son should've been right now and in an indisputable argument with some of the senators, she successfully stole you away from the hands of your unknown parents.

Lucilla meets her beloved husband and courageous General, 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 many years later, and marries him in hopes of finding protection and love she once seeked in another-- and she did of course. Only a few years later when tensions began brewing between you and your beloved 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, a tension that should not and should've never existed in the first place.

And even more chaos prevails when 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐, a Gladiator brought by the war catches your mother's undivided attention. You don't know why she's so interested in some vicious gladiator until you confronted him to cure the growing dislike h̶a̶t̶r̶e̶d̶ you have towards him.

𝑨 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 '𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐' 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝐹𝑖𝑐

➪ 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘺.

➪ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝙁𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡, 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

➪ 𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 1 𝘢𝘯𝘥 2.

➪ 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴.

Series Masterlist

Realm's Delight the poets willed you, just not long after Lucilla rescued you from near death. Despite the hushed whispers of resistance, no one dared to speak up against the Princess of Rome. And not long after she brought you back, the people were singing and celebrating outside your home, holding festivals and carnivals.

And of course, the twin emperor's annual gladiator pit was a way of celebrating your new 'birth' as the 2nd princess of Rome, though the title was quickly obliterated and made it as it is now.

Over time, the twin emperors grew fond of you and dubbed you as Emperor Geta's 'Dundus', which your mother was greatly offended, but chose to keep mute on the subject, not wanting to anger the two.

Your mother always dresses you in the most grand gowns. Never would one catch you dead in a garment made of wool or linen, gods let them see you or Lucilla will be their end. You had maids assist you everywhere you go, not like your mother lets you go out when you were 8 of years, but when you do, there were not less than 6 of them hovering around you, much less than your Equites (knights), if you think the maids were suffocating, how much more was your battalion of hundreds, exaggerated obviously, but it was how it looked like in your eyes before.

Your magistra, or they also call it teacher, was your mother’s when she was a child, she didn't trust anyone outside to teach and govern her only daughter, so it was her until you grew old enough to have her removed.

And as trees withered, you grew, the young girl hiding behind her mother's skirt has departed but not forgotten, for people would always remember her, like your very first name day, though it was the 6th name day in your honor, everyone had gathered in your mother's gardens while you stuck yourself in her bosom the whole time, you would not leave her until they all left for their beds.

She laughed the whole night, maybe even now if you would remind her. She told you she loved you not any less than her son. The older maids told you when you pestered them that the princess has never been this happy in those 2 years she 'lost' her son. Of the cause of losing her son, they did not speak. Others say that he was assassinated the night following Maximus' death. But every maid and knight tell other tales, or many of such tales, each differs from the other, so you learned not to listen to their story of theories.

"My lady," your focus broke as a voice cut through your thoughts. "Huh— what?"

"Ah, the silk, my lady. Might I inquire as to the color that would best please you?" 

You give your maid a smile before leaning in the stall to browse the silk sheets. "Hm,"

"I do like that one," you point to the baby blues, then your eyes get caught on the burgundy. 

"Oh, how splendid this shade of red appears! Truly, it is a vision of beauty." Your other maid sang, and all the others nodded and agreed. "Very well. We shall take the burgundy, the baby blue, the pink, and the purple adorned with gold, if you please. My thanks."

You were about to reach for your money when the maid pulled out a bag of coins that was clearly from your mother and handed the merchant the payment.

"Thank you, Aemma. " You bowed your head slightly in her direction, even though you obviously didn't need your mother's money. Aemma had been your maid since your mother took you in. Only being a teen when she was hired, she quickly gained your favor and your mother's. The both of you grew up together and your friendship remained steadfast throughout the years.

"Shall that be all, Princess?" The merchant says, handing your maids the boxes of silk. "It is. I bid you good morrow," you bow and smile. You wait until the maids situated themselves with the boxes before you continue to stroll farther down the market.

You pull the hood of your cloak over your head, shielding your eyes from the scorching sun. You opted to wear a lighter and thinner fabric than you usually use because of the heat that's been torturing Rome for a while now; you wonder if someone angered the sun god for Rome to suffer like this.

You sigh as you fan yourself harder. Your gaze falls on the structure, its gigantic walls impossible to ignore. The Colosseum. Every day, gladiators from every corner of the world fight there, a place you’ve been wanting to visit but have been strictly off-limits, thanks to your mother and Acacius. 

Every one of your friends had already watched a gladiator fight once while you didn't even get to step near it, a curse or a blessing?

A—

"..Bullshit," 

You hear your maid's gasp behind you, except Aemma, for she's already used to you. Your hood fell from your head, exposing you to the heat, but you did not pay care, your focus remained on the grand Colosseum, towering and timeless, there was a time where man didn't even know how to make a fire, and now you stood in front of its arches, carved by centuries of wind and whispers.

"My lady?" You snapped out of your reverie, turning your head over your shoulder to look behind you.

"Are you coming?" A knight says. You looked back to the colosseum, then back to your maids and knights.

Your shoulders sagged as you turned your back and departed, disappointment etched in your every step.

"Let's go." You murmured, they followed behind you as you dejectedly turned in the direction of your house. But just before you could take another step, Aemma pipes up.

"Ah! The General returns home this day, my lady."

𓃗

You dressed yourself for bed, the not so sheer fabric sliding across your body as you yawned for the umpteenth time of the day. You're just so bored these days, even shopping does not entertain you no longer. 

He's coming today though. The thought gave that spark in your eyes. You won't be so bored anymore, just watching him entertains you, but isn't that his role though? To entertain the emperors in their futile attempts at making Rome great again, you wonder why he tolerates their company. You can clearly see the disgust on his face whenever they say something.

You sat on your vanity, lighting the candles one by one. Then you took your hair out of its style, carefully removing the ties and clips embroidered in by your mother, then untangling the knots. You let your hair free for the night as your arms stretched up. Maybe today's shopping did tire you, but still it did not amuse you.

You took tentative steps towards the door, softly opening it and closing when you got out. Then you jogged quietly to the sitting room, careful not to wake Aemma, or she'd be obliged to stay with you until you slumbered.

You sat down on the sofa and waited for the time to pass. The hours seemed to stretch on like an endless, quiet hum in the background. You played with the board game, then read a book to which you abandoned after almost falling asleep. You peeked out the window yet again, but still no sign of him.

You let out a small sigh, shifting uncomfortably on the soft sofa, your mind wondering at the patterns in the room. You grew bored enough that you started pacing circles around the low table.

You don't know how much time had already passed as you were already fast asleep on the couch, your hands under your chin supporting it, your mouth wide open as you drooled on the pillow.

You only heard the gates creaking open, and the sound of hooves running in, but you were too tired and weepy to even open your eyes that you succumbed to slumber. Then you heard his heavy footsteps approaching you. The deep rumble of his voice as he spoke of something you didn't make out. One second there were voices and another you were in the air, hands secured under your neck and knees, lifting you up. He didn't even grunt or struggle, like you were something inanimate.

"..amor.. here.. go," you frowned, but remained still, not like you could wake up. You could only hear a few words, barely clear, and that was it all before you completely slept in the darkness.

𓃗

"He called it, The Dream of Rome,"

"Dream of Rome?" 

"Yes, where good people rule instead of the big, bad people."

"Wow! I want that too! I want to build the biggest statue of you and I'm, I'm gonna put mine beside it! I'm gonna make sure that all the people in the world are rich! A-and I’m gonna give the money to the people outside too!”

"Me too, Carissima"  Lucilla kisses your head. "Me too."

𓃗

"No, I heard the emperors are to host a private gathering later, where two gladiators shall fight for their amusement!"

"What, truly? Ye cannae be speakin' in jest! I’m certainly goin’ to see this for meself!"

You rolled your eyes, eyeing your unfinished bitter tea. 

You woke up with a start earlier, your hair disheveled and dried drool on your chin. Your memory was hazy from last night, but you definitely don't remember sleeping in your room, and you surely don't sleepwalk, do you?

"Lady Aurelius~!" You snapped from your thoughts when you heard that bitchy voice beside your ear. 

"What." You say. Clenching your jaw as you gripped the teacup. "Coming with us later, or are you going to chicken out again?"

You grip the teacup till your knuckles almost turn white as their shrilling laughs reach your ears. You absolutely don't 'chicken out', you scoff. It's just that your mother doesn't like you wandering off and risking yourself getting in harm's way.

But you certainly don't chicken out, no way, and you're undoubtedly not going to ruin a quarter of your reputation to these degenerates.

".. I shall go." You wince as they jump off their seats, clapping and howling as they excitedly 'plan' the escape. Most of the parents of your friends have not less than the rank of patricians and nobles, so they are also on high prison level monitoring, but yours was the highest in the friend group, if you can even call it that.

"Okay, sae this is gaun'ae be our final plan fo later, we must arrive in this designated place after 4 hours sharp, enouch time for ye tae escape, got it??"

"Sir yes sir!"

"Aye!"

"Let's go battalion!"

𓃗

"I shall catch up on my rest. Please, do not disturb me!" You yelled, making sure it echoes around the place so it reaches everyone. 

You exhale in a short, hurried breath, dusting your disguise as you turn your head to Aemma, who dressed up as you.

"M-my lady, this far is t-too dangerous, my lady will have my head—"

"Fear not, Aemma. I shall return here you can even blink." 

"But my lady—"

Without letting her finish, you stood on the edge of the window, gripping the blanket you tied together into a makeshift rope tightly. A thick blob of sweat slid down your forehead, your breath hitched at your chest as you tried to steady yourself.

There isn't going back, anyway.

And for the last time before you violate the very thing your mother was so strict about, you glanced over your shoulder at your maid; she was dressed in your most expensive gown, her hair hidden beneath the veil you gave her. While you were dressed in her daily attire as a maid, the both of you switched closets just after you had convinced her for nearly an hour. You can tell she wants to stop you, but who was she to do that? 

And turning your face to her, you clutched the blanket tightly in your two hands, it's fabric rough under your fingers, slowly, you lowered yourself, feeling the fabric tug at your hands as you began to slide down, the rope beneath you swaying from side to side, you held your breath trying to discern if your mother heard, after a few seconds of nothing, you continued your venture. 

Your hands were beginning to hurt and turn red from the rope, but you're too far ahead to back out, so you quickly doubled your speed and not long after your feet finally hit the ground. You celebrated internally, huffing and puffing with your hands on your knees.

You looked up to see Aemma looking relieved, you smiled and waved at her, to which she returned and shooed you away.

She mouthed you the word hurry before you quietly ran for the gates.

Good thing you weren't that tired tonight or you would've given up running halfway across the yard. Another thing, though, was the gate. If you open it and it makes that loud shrieking sound, you're dead. 

You frowned and looked around, trying to think of something, anything. You were almost out of wits when you spotted a huge stone just beside the wall.

Thank the Gods.

You let out a deep sigh of relief, your shoulders slumping from the tension escaping your body. You almost thought you had to go back and just accept death, but good thing the Gods were with you.

You jogged to where it was, the rock was slippery, but enough for you to stand on, you just have to grip the wall and jump over.

You groaned as you lifted yourself from the rock, holding onto the wall like your life depended on it. After regenerating your lungs, you swung your right leg over the wall, then pulled yourself up to sit on the wall, then you swung your other leg over, and like sitting on a tall chair, you hopped off the wall.

Your landing on the ground felt so good your knees gave out and you landed on a soft patch of grass. Beads of sweat filled your forehead, and you wheezed, panting heavily.

But you have to hurry. The other set of guards were already arriving in minutes after a small break from their shift. You looked up at the sun. 10 minutes.

Enough time for you to run out of the estate.

You took a deep breath and pushed yourself off the ground, your legs pumping into motion. Then you took off, your legs pumping as soon as you took your second step, the air was cool, but speed quickly warmed you up, you were sweating almost everywhere, but you couldn't stop, the rhythm of your breath matched the beating of your heart. 

In the next few moments, you could hear your heart beating from everywhere across your body, the sound of your feet hitting the ground, and the weight of seconds passing by. 

Every step was sharper, harder. You swore the ground almost shook. The clock in your mind ticked down, 10 minutes—you could make it. Your muscles burned, but you didn't slow down, obviously.

And finally, you reached the bustling market of the main city. You guys were supposed to meet up behind the bank. You frowned and looked around. With all these people, it would take you half a year to get to it.

Your eyes scanned around until you found the enormous building up ahead. You were just about to jog to the back when you felt a sharp push on your shoulder from behind. The unexpected jolt threw you off balance for a moment, and you stumbled slightly before catching yourself. Whipping around, you saw who had bumped into you, a mix of surprise and annoyance flashing across your face.

That was before you realized it was a knight of high status, much like your knights but this one was bigger, more bulked. He scowled in your direction, you quickly siddled backwards, he was beside a carriage with a cage behind it. It was withered and old and rusty. You had expected an animal or maybe food for delivery inside, something small, easily handled. But what surprised you was something much bigger. There, sitting on a wooden, worn bench, was a man. His arms rested on his knees, and his head hung low, as though in silent prayer. You blinked, trying to make sense of the strange sight. Your gaze lingered a moment too long, and suddenly, as if he felt your stare, his head shot up. His bright blue eyes locked with yours, and your breath caught in your throat.

Your eyes widened in shock, but his expression remained unreadable, unblinking, as though this moment was nothing new to him. His glare burned holes right through the back of your head. You willed yourself to look away from the man, his gaze overwhelming.

You were roused from your thoughts when another guy in armour knocked into you, sending you stumbling backwards yet again.

"Fucking—" he hisses, brushing off his armour. "Move aside, whore." He spits on the ground near your foot.

You gasped and involuntarily stepped back in shock. Whore?! You are not a whore! You've never even kissed someone! Much less go whoring around!

You clenched your jaw. "Excuse me but I am not a whore mister."

He halts his movements. "Big mouth for slut like you huh? Bet you could fit the whole of Rome in there," he snorts, his laugh ugly to the ears. 

"I beg your pardon—" The slap landed hard on your face, you clutched your cheek and winced as it stings from the touch of your hand. 

"Tch, that's what screaming whores get from me. Now move aside, harlot"

A shakey breath disguised as a scoff escapes from your mouth, both your hands clutching your tender cheek. 

What you didn’t notice was the piercing gaze of the man, unwavering and fixed on you as the scene played out in front of him.

𓃗

"Oh—! Good gods! We've been standing around for ages waiting for you!"

You pant, your cheek still tender but less puffy and red. "M-my apologies. I had—"

"There is no time for such nonsense; let us proceed!"

You exhaled heavily as they ushered you to hurry behind them. 

"Ugh, I'm so focking excited!" Squealed the girl beside you. 

"Shut your pie hole, Alyssa! Should we be discovered due to your loose tongue, I shall your arse once and for all!" The ginger in front of you whispered. If you weren't so distracted by what happened earlier you would've laughed at them and their antics, they always were bickering like children ever since you met them, but honestly, as the only children of their respective families and being cousins wasn't so shocking when they would clash their heads off.

Not long after, you finally arrived at the 'party'. But the party was certainly... Unique.

There were these almost naked exotic dancers on poles. They wore thick and clumpy makeup but still made it look good. Their attire was.. quirky, resembling a jester but the fabric was of silk which was very expensive.

Then there were tigers chained to the walls in cages as people gaped and checked them out.

Almost everyone was wearing masks, except the servants, and of course the emperors, they were cheering and howling loudly as they conversed with their... Escorts.

You cringe inwardly, shuddering in repulsion as one of them licks Emperor Geta's neck.

"Oh. My. Word!" your friend behind you whispers. "Indeed! This is truly extraordinary! I find it most delightful!”

"I have never attended a gathering of this nature!”

It was said the two emperors would often engage in.. unconventional parties. One of those was this. 

No one would say anything more in front of you but you heard they did things here, in an unusual but particular way, but you didn't understand what they meant until this. Maybe they meant how wild the guests and the party were?

"Look! Look! It's starting!" Your friend exclaimed, tapping your shoulder as she pointed at the center of the room.

A hush fell over the crowd and a man with gold crowns and green robes entered.

"My emperors! Ladies and gentlemen! And senators," he bows dramatically, whipping his head down as his hands stretch outwards to the side. Then he flicks his head up like he had hair, then proceeds strutting around the center.

"For your entertainment," he pauses, looking around proudly like he owned the crowd. "The art.. of combat!"

The crowd gasps in awe, as well as your friends, who murmured in astonishment. 

"May I present— The Barbarian..." Your gaze is immediately fixed on the man as he enters the room, though you could not see him clearly as you were at the very back of the crowd, the people were towering over one another as they wrestled for a look at the barbarian. Moments later the crowd erupted into a flood of cheers and claps.

"What's happening?" You whispered to your friend, who was also busy hollering. 

Alyssa, who was nearer to you, replied. "The barbarian and the renowned warrior are about to engage in combat!"

You bit your lip and stood on your toes to get a better view of the fight, but as you do, so did the others, so now you're stuck in an endless domino effect with the greedy people in front of you.

"I— can't see—" you choked out. It was getting real tight in the back when you started hearing the punches and grunts. 

"Oh! Goodness!" Alyssa gasped. "What is it? What is it?"

"He just shattered that precious vase upon the other man’s head as though it were of no consequence!"

"How would you know it is of such value?"

"Pray, it is simple! My mother owns one as well! The artisan crafted but fifty of them in all the world!"

Each blow and strike sent the crowd into a frenzy of gasps and hollers, their excitement building with every move. 

Seconds later you hear a thud echoing around the room, you see a pillar from afar slightly shaken. And not long after a loud bang was heard across the room, the crowd gasped, either at shock or amusement, or both.

But you, on the other hand, just did not feel it. You came all this way and struggled for what seemed like so long, violated your mother, and you couldn't even see what you battled for.

The audience clapped for what you assume was the winner, then the sound of a sword clattering on the ground.

"Remarkable! Remarkable!" You hear Geta clap. 

As the emperor began walking to the winner, the crowd began pushing and pulling in front of you, wanting to take witness to the event transpiring, and so it results in you getting pushed away and abruptly separated from the rest of your friends, you tried gripping the hood of the one nearest to you only for your arm to be swatted away by some bystander.

"H-hey! Guys!" You yelled, but the crowd was too loud and they were too distracted to take notice that you were already drifting away from them.

"Stop!" You clutch the hood of your cloak, careful not to reveal yourself as the crowd pressed in around you, constantly shoving and bumping as they moved, making it hard to stay balanced.

"Guys I'm here!" You yell yet again, but tour attempts are futile when the crowd easily overpowers your voice of alarm.

Mere moments after you're struggling when the crowd pops you out of them, finally getting the chance to breathe without smelling their uncured body odors.

And just as you thought you were free, a firm grip seized your arm, yanking you to the side before you could react. 

"W-what! Stop! Help mmphm!" Your eyes widened as you were met by a knight, one with the same armour as the guy who called you a whore but it wasn't him, he was bald and the knight holding you now wasn't.

"Are you a servant in this establishment?" His gruff voice says. "W-what? No, certainly not—!"

And before you get a chance to speak, he drags you with him deeper into the hallway. You pulled and tugged on your arm from his deadly tight grip, but no matter how hard you did, he didn't budge.

While you kept writhing and struggling beside him, you already arrived in a room, he yanked the door open, impatient to get in, your eyes flicker to the jail-like door which his other companion opened with a key, once it was open, he dragged you inside a bathroom like room, complete with a tub, sink and toilet.

Then your eyes fixed on a man in the gigantic tub. He also seemed surprised at the commotion when his eyes opened sharply, scanning his surroundings and finally landing on you.

"Do your job, whore," the knight grumbles. You yelped as he shoved you on the ground, your hands slipping on the wet floor and just falling on your face. 

"This is preposterous!" You yelled, groaning as you held your nose. You felt a trickle of liquid down your nose, your eyes widened as you saw the blood dripping on the floor.

"My n-nose!" You pushed yourself from the floor, your hood sliding off your head. "Urgh,"

"Who goes there?" You hear the man say, a low grumble in his voice. "Do not inquire of me, for I am the one cast into this place!"

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him. You looked up and stilled, the blood still dripping down your nose. 

He's the barbarian? You were locked in a staring contest with the barbarian, his glare unwavering while yours were shaking. 

"Y-you're.." your mouth opens in shock while still clutching your nose.

"I'm what?" His eyebrow raises up. "You're, the, b-bar—"

"Barbarian?" He scoffs but says nothing further, flicking the coins on the tub to the ground.

You huff. "Tch, rude.."

"What'd you say?" He tilts his head upward, not sparing a glance at you. "I said get me out of here."

"Pray, tell me, why would I do such a thing?"

"B-because—!," you shoot him your best glare, hoping he'd follow, but a deep, rumbling chuckle echoed from his chest, a sound that seemed to vibrate the air with a dark, almost animalistic undertone. 

It wasn’t the kind of laugh that invited warmth or joy—rather, it was low and menacing, like the growl of a predator stalking its prey. The sound felt heavy, as though it carried the weight of something far more dangerous lurking just beneath the surface.

"Very well, Your Highness. What benefit would it bring me to set you free?" He spoke coldly. "Hm? Did the man not give you a direct command to perform your duties, or was that only me?"

You scowl, jaw clenching over your growing irritation.

"Release me, I implore you." You grit your teeth. But still, he didn't budge, ignoring you completely.

What the fuck is his problem. It was already noon and your mother might've already sent Acacius's battalion to find you.

[amarmoria]

Love and Legion

Summary: 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 adopted you almost 14 years ago, after a catastrophic invasion of your country from the two tyrannic Twin Emperors of Rome, only just two years after sending her son away, she can't help but feel pity and guilt at a little child who was just a years younger than her son should've been right now and in an indisputable argument with some of the senators, she successfully stole you away from the hands of your unknown parents.

Lucilla meets her beloved husband and courageous General, 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 many years later, and marries him in hopes of finding protection and love she once seeked in another-- and she did of course. Only a few years later when tensions began brewing between you and your beloved 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, a tension that should not and should've never existed in the first place.

And even more chaos prevails when 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐, a Gladiator brought by the war catches your mother's undivided attention. You don't know why she's so interested in some vicious gladiator until you confronted him to cure the growing dislike h̶a̶t̶r̶e̶d̶ you have towards him.

𝑨 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 '𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐' 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝐹𝑖𝑐

➪ 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘺.

➪ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝙁𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡, 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

➪ 𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 1 𝘢𝘯𝘥 2.

➪ 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴.

Series Masterlist

You don't know why you remember so little from before. You recall only Lucilla, your now adoptive mother, cradling you back to her tent, washing off the dirt and grime from you in her tub, you remember feeling like you forgot something, not like you can remember everything you did when you were 5, only a glimpse of your faceless 'parents'.

You remember a big argument from the outside, you heard voices yelling and squabbling, one which belonged to your mother while her maids tended to your food and clothes. You remember her looking so tired but pleased after an hour of arguing.

Then she proceeded to help you with your hair, twisting and braiding and vice versa as she hummed that beautiful song she sang to you every single night after that.

"You're an Aurelius now. My daughter. My Carissima"

Then just several years later, you were standing in mere spaces behind your mother, and her groom, General Marcus Aurelius, feared but not feared, the one who leads rome's army to victory every time.

You were wearing a dress, an exact copy of your mother's. Your attire mirrored almost every detail of hers, a reflection of your bond. While your mother's dress was woven from fine, unblemished white wool, and tied with the intricate Knot of Hercules, yours was simpler, its fabric softened and unadorned, lacking the symbolic complexity  but retaining the elegance.

Your hair, though styled in the same six braids as your mother’s, was left without the ornate pins and embellishments that crowned the bride.

Instead of the full flammeum that veiled your mother, you wore a delicate orange scarf that draped lightly over your shoulders, the hue a faint echo of your mother’s fiery veil. A small garland of fresh flowers circled your head, a token of your innocence and role as a silent witness to the sacred union.

You held your breath during the whole ceremony, even as your mother said those words that would finally hammer the nail.

"Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia"

'Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia'

Despite your initial resistance over having a new father— step-father, you can't deny your mother her love, because one day you'll have to find one yourself, and marry him and move in with him and leave your mother alone. But now she has her spouse, her husband, you're not sure if you're relieved or worried.

The day after the occasion you moved into his mansion, and to your surprise he had you made a room of yourself, not that you had one at home, you didn't really know him, or talk to him, but he went out of his way to carve you a space in his home, maybe that earned him point to you.

You jumped out behind your mother's back and ran around the spacious chamber, almost forgetting they were there. You hastily got on the bed that looked almost too tall to be one and bounced and bounced, even your bed at home didn't make you bounce this high.

Out the corner of your eye you see Acacius approaching the foot of the bed, his arms crossed each other as his smile widens impossibly big, he didn't have that much grey hair then, but he looked very young and joyful, you see your mother just farther behind him at the doorframe admiring the both of you.

You knew it was then she wanted both of you to get along, and you love your mother so much you didn't want to disappoint her. Your initial impression of him was questionable, the first thing that came up your mind was that he was evil, and he'd lock you down the dungeon and torture you like those step-parent books you read, and one that caught your eye was the story of Rhodopis.

And just moments later you bounced to him and jumped, you snorted at the face he made when you landed on him, your hands coiled around his neck, going in for a hug.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" You heard him laugh above you as his arms circle around your back, trapping you in a hug.

You shivered involuntarily as his fingers ghost the skin of your back. Maybe that's where it started? Everything that went on then as the years came by, you didn't draw attention to it, just pondering and pondering what it was.

Then years later you're here, standing beside your mother as she held a small white cloth to her tear stained eyes, a lavender in her other hand occupying her nose to cancel out the foul smell of Rome, you sneezed a second time, does Rome even know how to bathe?

Your thoughts were stolen away when you heard Acacius's heavy boots approaching. He was wearing this dazzling bright red cape with intricate gold embroidery in the edges, it was clasped together with a gold plated pendant. His heavy black armor designed with Medusa's head at front with gold clicked expensively as he nears the two of you, you notice how gold was also lined on the edges of his armour a big sign that he is a general.

You wonder if this time they were going to a bigger country, seeing how many battalions Acacius had behind him, they were boarding the ship one by one and the others were carrying the boxes loaded with weapons.

He didn't wear his helm yet so his curls bounced as he halted in front of you. And even if your mother was already hugging him, it felt as though his eyes were still on you, you fiddled with your dress while looking down, opting to stare at the interesting floor than look into his rounded brown gaze.

You thought he'd leave then, after bidding your mother and you goodbye, but he paused as your mother seperated from him, busy wiping her tears and refilling her lavender, you hear him laugh, his chest rumbling in the armour, his knees slightly crouch to your view, but you don't budge as you avoid his eyes still.

He suddenly reached out, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your jaw with surprising gentleness. Slowly, he lifted your chin, coaxing you to meet his gaze. The motion was subtle but deliberate, his touch firm yet tender as it guided your face upward.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flickering to his lips, before your gaze finally rose to meet his. The world around them seemed to fade as his eyes locked with yours, an unspoken tension thickening the air between you and him.

"A-acacius—"

"Won't you bid me goodbye, amor?" He whispered a breath, his voice soft and low as his head tilts to the side, almost like teasing you.

"I-I was. But I wanted mother to go first." You murmured, practically embarrassed he even noticed.

"I shall be away for a good while," He clears his throat, straightening his attire.

You nod, fiddling with your dress yet again. "How long?"

"I've no certain count, but I'll be back," he paused, smiling warmly. "And quick."

You return his smile, laughing gently. "Of course you are, you're the invinsible general,"

"Oh? Am i now?"

"Yes, you are, don't try to humble it." Your smile grows wider as he laughs. "I don't think I understand what you're saying, Amor."

You roll your eyes, folding your arms over your chest. "Don't fool me, old man"

"You're calling me old now?"

"Aren't you?"

He was about to retort a comeback when you mother strided to where you were.

"Safe travels, my love," she sighs. "We will pray for you,"

"I will, Caro" he leans down to take her hand, kissing the bones of her knuckles. And for a split second you see him look to your direction "I will."

𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕

[amarmoria]

Love and Legion Masterlist

Summary: 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 adopted you almost 14 years ago, after a catastrophic invasion of your country from the two tyrannic Twin Emperors of Rome, only just two years after sending her son away, she can't help but feel pity and guilt at a little child who was just years younger than her son should've been right now and in an indisputable argument with some of the senators, she successfully stole you away from the hands of your unknown parents.

Lucilla meets her beloved husband and courageous General, 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 many years later, and marries him in hopes of finding protection and love she once seeked in another-- and she did of course. Only a few years later when tensions began brewing between you and your beloved 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, a tension that should not and should've never existed in the first place.

And even more chaos prevails when 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐, a Gladiator brought by the war catches your mother's undivided attention. You don't know why she's so interested in some vicious gladiator until you confronted him to cure the growing dislike h̶a̶t̶r̶e̶d̶ you have towards him.

𝑨 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 '𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐' 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝐹𝑖𝑐

➪ 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘺.

➪ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝙁𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡, 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

➪ 𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 1 𝘢𝘯𝘥 2.

➪ 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴.

Prologue

Act 1

Act 2 coming soon...

[amarmoria]

Blond White Ferrari

Stepbro!Rafe Cameron x Reader

You stayed in tannyhill after Ward's death, unable to leave Rafe to grieve alone.

Notes: this is a test fic I wanted to post abt stepbro rafe, idk if I'll continue this or what but it depends on you guys🫶

You came back to Kildare just a week after they announced your father's death. The funeral was small, only immediate families and of course you, Rose, Wheezie and Rafe— no Sarah. Maybe that was what fueled Rafe even more, but recently, he didn't bring up Sarah that much, not that often compared to the day after Ward's burial, he kept cursing her name and wrecking the stuff in her room, you stood outside until he finished, only coming in to fix her room when he left Tannyhill to snort whites in Barry's trailer.

A week later, Rose and Wheezie left, only you stayed, as much as you hated Rafe, it didn't feel right to leave him alone, no one was, everyone needs someone when grieving, even a person like Rafe.

The next few days after you decided to stay were a blur, constant packets of snow were always littered around, as well as beer bottles and cans, the house was always ransacked after parties. But you were always there to clean up after him, maybe it was a way to cope with Ward's death, or maybe you pitied your brother, either way you didn't like to look back at it that much.

You always had a bowl of water and a rag beside your bed ready the night before so you won't have to go downstairs and wake up the littering people sleeping in.

You always went straight to Rafe's bedroom, it was always open anyways, so you didn't have to disturbed him, or them, most of the time you had to be the one to shoo the girls on his bed, always giving them some spare clothes to go home to, they were always littered around so why not give them away.

Then you go back to your fucked out brother, he will and most definitely always will wake up during noon, so you spend the morning patting the rag on his face, cleaning the left over snow on his snot. You open up his curtains to avoid mold forming in his room, then you clean the house, and repeat the same routine the next day.

You never expect him to reward you, nevertheless thank you, you don't know why you did, or even do it, you're just there, for him, for your brother.

In the afternoon you cook his favorites, you're not that much of a cook, but you try, you leave them on the table, already heated before going to the grocery store, he doesn't like getting pampered by people, especially not by his sister, but he does accept it, only shyly when you're not there, you always go home to an empty dish and the ripped note you leave him.

"You.." his voice fades off as you glance up at him, he was up early, too early, you were in the middle of trying to cook shrimp and grits, still figuring out the youtube tutorial you found.

"O-oh, uh, Good— good morning, Rafe." You smiled at him, setting down the knife and wiping your hand on your pretty frilly apron.

You didn't say anything as you grabbed a glass of cold water, sliding it on the counter beside where he was still standing, he wasn't saying anything, maybe he was still dazed from his sleep, his bed hair slightly more rough today, he hadn't cut his hair in a while, so his buzzed has grown a bit.

You didn't see how his eyes followed you around as you went back to cooking, almost flabbergasted that you were cooking, were you always the one cooking here? Was it actually your food he always eats up everyday?

"The food, you.."

"Y-yup, uh, doesn't look that good right now," you lightly joke, not moving your eyes from the tutorial. "But the key is trusting the.. process.. shit,"

You hurriedly turned the stove off as you tried to salvage the remaining shrimps that hadn't gotten burned, which is.. 3.

"Oh! Uhm," you bite your tongue, out of all the times he has to walk in on you, it has to be this one where you burn the meal. "A-are you hungry? I-I can whip up some Mac i-if you're in a hurry,"

You frowned and glanced behind you when he didn't answer, your eyes caught his longing stare on your apron, then to your hand and to the burnt shrimps.

"I-I'm sorry, it's, I was going to make the cordon blue from yesterday but I really just had to be unique and try, try to cook your favorite the, uh, S-shrimp and grits but, as you can see.."

You hide your hands inside your apron's pockets, too embarrassed to even defend yourself from the incoming.

"It's, it's fine," your eyes widened as you whip your head up, you meet his eyes, his blue, light eyes, and for the first time, you were having a decent conversation with him.

He sees your smile grow wider, wider than it ever has after everything.

"I-I can cook another! Do you want uhm, uh, pasta? I have some leftover sauce, but I can heat it up again if you want!"

His eye twitches, almost amused by watching you. "Right, uhm, yeah, I'd like that"

And for the first time, the atmosphere felt at peace.

-

"Fuck—!" You hear a crash downstairs, and it doesn't take a second for you to guess who it came from.

"I won't fucking leave until I get.." Rafe's voice fades in the background as he presumingly enters the kitchen, you don't hear the rest of his words as another slam echoes around the house.

"Son of a bitch!" You hear him throw his phone down, his 5th phone of the month. "Fucking bitch I'm gonna.." he stops when he sees you creeping on the stairs.

"Hey.." your lip forms a tight smile, you don't even get a second to look at him properly when he disappears from your sight, then you hear him hurl himself on the couch just moments later, you almost worried if he was gonna throw another useless party again, you liked partying, but Rafe always throws parties here and there that you got tired of it pretty fast.

In any other day you would've went back to your room until he calms down, but you didn't know where you took your courage from when you followed him in the room, you see him slouching on his knees, cradling his head on his hands, almost visibly shaking in anger.

You didn't say anything as you took out a pack of ice cubes, shoving it inside the ice pack before coming back to the living room, your eyes focus on his bleeding knuckles, then to the mirror adjacent to where you were.

And continuing your silence, you slowly knelt down in front of him, he didn't make any moves or whatsoever so you shakingly brought the pack near his knuckles, gently patting them to test the waters , you see him flinch, but makes no effort to stop you, the carpet digs in your knees, but you press the ice further on his bleeding knuckles.

You hear him hiss. "S-sorry,"

His phone rings nearby, but is nowhere to be seen, the ringtone continues to vibrate, you glance at Rafe, rolling your eyes when he doesn't even make a move to get it, biting your tongue when it gets even more annoying, you clicked your tongue and dropped the ice, trying to quickly silence the annoying ringtone when his hand latches on to your arm, pulling you to stand in front of him as he buries his face on your stomach.

"Rafe your—"

"Stay,"

"It might be impo—"

"Leave it."

You shut your mouth, you didn't want to anger Rafe even more, so you stayed there, and at this angle, you can kinda see who the annoying caller was on his phone.

Sofia.

Your eyebrows furrow as you try to remember the familiar name. She wasn't a kook for sure, or you'd definitely remember her, but it was certainly impossible for Rafe to befriend a pogue right..

"Please," you snapped out of your trance as you hear him speak into your tummy. "Rafe—"

"Don't, just... Stay here, with me" your face softens, his arms completely wrapped around your waist, tightly, he pulls you in, your knees touching the edge of the couch, he doesn't make any moves to remove you, only hearing his peaceful heavy breathing.

You don't say anything, your fingers shiver at the thought that passed your head, slowly, you bring your fingers up his head, placing them on it, then steadily, you run your fingers through his hair, little by little, until both your hands are now massaging his entire head.

You hear a soft groan beneath you, the rumble of his voice sending your stomach vibrating. He fists around your top behind you as you take advantage of this moment to freely touch your brother's hair, you can never get near him, not less than 5 meters away, if this was a one time thing only, you'd have to make it last.

What you don't see is the small bulge slowly forming in his pants.

-

"Nope, jus' send it here— No, I'll be the one dealing with it, no, yes, no! No way you're gonna be sellin' that!"

You hear Rafe pace around his room, then Barry's muffled words, but Rage quickly shuns him out, he's dealing with powder again.

You snapped back to the tray you're holding, balancing the bowl and the juice, you cooked a simple meal, whipping up the leftover rice mixed with cooked salmon and  sesame oil.

You hesitated whether to go and give him the tray or just quietly slip back into your room and have it for yourself.

You chose the latter.

"Rafe..?"

His head whips to your direction, he had his hand on his hip, while the other held the phone to his ear, his eyes wander to you then down to the tray you're holding, you didn't have any time to remove your apron so you wonder what you looked like right now.

Suddenly feeling embarrassed of your interruption, you squeak out. "I-I made you.. something.."

You bite your cheeks, shifting on your feet when his adams apple bobs up and down.

"I'll— I'll be right back," he quickly ends the call, shoving the phone in his pockets.

"Whatcha got there?"

You smiled. "Oh! Rice and, and salmon, they're mixed actually! I also added sesame oil, the new one they added in the market, I heard it was very hard for them to get it here, so I preordered them weeks ago,"

"'s that right?"

"Uh-huh, there's also this watermelon I found the uh, Den— densuke watermelon? I think that's how you pronounce it? it's so very good! You gotta try it, Rafe!"

Rafe wasn't even listening to what you were yapping about, he wondered how you got so comfortable around him like this, not that he didn't like it, he loved it, he was droning out of the sound of your voice, carrying the tray up to his room with your cute little apron like it was your right and honor to do so.

Ever since that day, you started noticing the small changes in Rafe, it doesn't look that big but if you compare it to him before, it's a huge milestone. And ever since that day, he too has noticed how you kept buzzing around him like a housewife.

".. it?"

"Wha, huh.." he sees your face slightly frowning. "Do you want to try it?"

"Oh? Uh, yes, yeah, of course."

"Alright!" You excitedly placed the tray on his bedside table as he wits himself on the bed, you quickly handed him the drink which he accepted with a nod, and like a thirsty buffoon, he finished half the glass in one gulp.

"Oh, wow, this is actually very good," he says, his eyes following your every move, you bent down a bit to mix the salmon more into the rice, you didn't want it to get cold and bad.

"Done!" You gave yourself a pat on the back internally. You hear Rafe's chuckle, a low rumble in his chest, and instinctively, your face heats up in embarrassment. "W-what.."

"Nothing bad, don't worry," but that didn't calm your nerves. "I-if you don't like salmon, it's, it's alright, I can—"

"No." He says, his eyes staring you down even if he was the one sitting. "O-okay, but—"

"No buts, princess, now are you going to let the starving man eat or..?" He joked, a small smile back on his face.

You chuckled and approached him with the food, presenting it in front of him like a dog would with a stick to its owner. "Here you go!"

Although he doesn't take it, only placing his large hands on your waist, his fingers playing with the drawstrings of your apron from the back, pulling you in between his legs, then he opens his mouth with an 'ah'

Oh! Does he want to be fed?

You flashed him a big grin before scooping a generous amount on the spoon, you heard him chuckle again, his eyes straying on your face.

It made you chuckle too, then you raised the spoon up near his face. "Ahhh"

He quickly engulfs the whole spoon, and as his mouth leaves, his tongue leaves a playful lick at the spoon, making 100% sure you saw it.

And indeed you did, because your face heats up once again, biting your cheeks as you shifted on your feet.

"Something wrong, princess?"

"N-no! Nothing.."

He smirked, now he knows why Kelce loved teasing his girlfriends.

"Now, now, isn't it a bit rude that the cook wouldn't even eat her own dish?"

"Oh, uh, y-yes, but I made it for y—"

"Ah ah," he shakes his head, gently taking the spoon from you, scooping another from the bowl and draws in near your face.

"Say, ahh"

You frown, but follow him, an ahh leaves your mouth as the spoon enters, he doesn't waste any time and takes out the spoon hastily.

"H-hey!" You grumble, your mouth full of rice.

"Uh-huh—"

You heard his phone ring.

"Shit.." he rolls his eyes, visibly fucking irritated at the thought of someone fucking interrupting the moment. He declines the call, then proceeds to look up to you again.

"Now, where were we—"

His phone rings again.

"Fucking—!" You don't flinch when the phone flies off behind you and smacks on the wall. "That motherfucker has to be kiddi—"

Ring.

"FUC—" He exhales, gripping his head and abruptly standing up.

"Sorry, Princess I have to—"

"It's fine" you smile, "The dishes needed washing anyways."

And before you could hear his reply, you quickly suttered out his room.

[amarmoria]

Summer Heat

Kook!Reader

Rafe Cameron x Reader or JJ Maybank x Reader?

Rafe is with Sofia here, JJ swoops in and saves you, though I don't think Rafe really liked that.

Wc: 3.2k

Notes: 'finish your wips! finish your wips! Finish your wips!' I will whip you, JK, ofc I will, but I js had to write these two ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

(set somewhere in s4)

You're watching them.

Rafe and Sofia. Dancing around each other with no care in the world for who knows how long.

The drink you've been nursing has long been warm in your hand when you hear them laughing, so sweet so bitter, if not the crowd around you, you would've been vomiting your stomach out.

Another gurgle in your stomach sends you sitting down on one of the wooden high chairs, the legs slightly sinking into the sand as you place your long forgotten drink on the counter.

You didn't even have the appetite to drink anything, let alone party, why'd you even come here? Your jaw flexes as another wave of nausea hits you, you should've stopped 7 cups ago. You're not normally a drinker, in all senses you hate seeing people drunk of their asses, you're always the sober sister when it comes to these parties, only drinking a cup or two to loosen up, never drunk though, not like this.

Despite the booming speakers you can still hear them, like they're just right behind you, the thought sends you shivering, you wanted to puke, so bad, not sure if it's because of the alcohol or the other, maybe both, you're not sure.

Then a guy comes beside you, recklessly stumbling to sit on the chair, you roll your eyes, oh good, a pogue.

You've never been the one to pay attention to the ongoing war between the kooks and pogues, you're all just people living on an island, even though your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, has always wanted to show them who's the boss, the one on top, it sounded childish, how a grown man, not really, like him would choose to have a beef with teens not less than one or two years younger than him, he seemed almost sure he can drive them off the island like insects.

Your thoughts were stolen away when the guy beside you bumps your shoulder, maybe from trying to adjust the chair or whatever.

"Shit sssorry— my bad, man" he chuckles as he downs a shot.

"It's fine-" you pause when you finally glance at him.

"Mhm? Got you speechless huh?"

"Aren't you—?"

"Maybanks' son, yeah, uh-huh, been there, done that," he waves you off. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Just a little shocked,"

"Shocked. Yeah, a very common reaction in seeing a pogue in a kook party."

"No I—!"

"Tis fiine, got nothin' to worry 'bout, sweetheart" you cringe at the name, if not the forced accent he just did.

"Hit a nerve huh?"

"N-no.."

"Yeahhhh, def did."

"Are you drunk?"

"Nahh, just tipsy, nothin' compared to me in a pogue party."

"Pogue party?" Your eyebrows furrow. "Yeah, like a party on our turf of the island? You're not that clueless are you kook?"

Your face heats up. "I-I'm not! It's just that, a party is a party no matter where it is, so might as well say that this party is boring compared to yours."

"Hahhh, you're very funnyy for a koook"

"And you're pretty rude for a pogue."

"Huh, didn't you say a party is a party no matter where it is?"

"I'm talking about the party, not you."

"Sooo, serious kook, you should loooosen upp firsss"

"Ugh, I'm too drunk for this." You rolled your eyes and turned around, making your back face him.

A few seconds passed and he was suspiciously quiet, your attention going back to the still dancing couple at the center.

"Sayyy, we get outta heree" you yelp as he flicks your head. "W-wha, I don't even know you."

"JJ Maybank at your service" he bows, pretending to put on a top hat and fixing his imaginary mustache.

You couldn't stop the chuckle that escapes you.

"Now you know me, so should we dip or what?"

"Still no, I don't go with strangers, especially at night."

"You kill joy doucheee" you laugh as he almost tips over. "Careful there."

"Sir yes sir!"

You laugh again. "You're very funny for a pogue"

He joins you laughing, then he burps abruptly and laughs again. "Well, you're not so bad yourself kook"

"What do you say huh? Ditch this thing-a-ma-bob of a party for a real one?"

"Hm, let me think" if you were any sober you would've quickly turned him down and safely went home, but the alcohol in your system was wurly burly, and it maybe, just maybe, had a play at your decision.

"Fine—"

"Yes!" He animatedly made a goofy jump, he paused when his hand was about to reach for yours, quickly taking it back like you've burned him.

"Follow me, mademoiselle!"

You chuckle as he jogged just further in front of you. You unknowingly followed him through the busy crowd, slightly get annoyed when the others curse at him quietly, angry that a pogue was here, but he didn't seem to mind, almost like he was used to it.

Your mood turns slightly sour, you can't even take a little criticism, a little curse at you would send you spiraling and weepy, you didn't like it when people didn't like you, so you can't imagine what he's even feeling right now, he didn't seem bothered by it, but it bothered you.

"Almost theeere," he glances back at you, the booming speakers awhile ago was fading in the background, your mind long distracted away from the couple.

Then JJ slows down, matching your pace as the music beats in the background, the waves replacing the booming speakers.

"So this is your party huh?"

"Nahh or maybe yeahhh, maybe I'm here to abduct you and give you to the aliens, or maybe here to lure you in the water and let the mermaids eat you,"

"First of all it's the sirens that lure you," you hear him hum, but you don't expect him listening, the way his eyes drift on the random things that pass by tells you he's high as a bird, only humming when you end your sentences.

"But you might be the one who wants to lure me out here, then kill me for the pure pleasure of whatsoever."

He chuckles, "Maybe I did, or maybeeee I might just be here to ask for ransom,"

"Hm, let's see here," you whisper, but just loud enough so that he can hear, he arches an eyebrow, putting his hands on the back of his head.

"No, please don't kill me, Mr. Maybank! I wanna be in the sequel!" You clasp your hands together, trying to contain your laugh, but a few seconds pass and he doesn't make a noise. Great, you've scared him off.

You sighed and you were about to take off when you heard him wheezing, your eyebrows furrowed and your face quickly heats up, the embarrassment creeping in.

"What's so funny?"

"You— w-what did you—" he kneels on the sand as he tries to breathe, but the laughing easily comes back to him. "I'm— your—"

"I'm what!" You stomp your foot.

His fit doesn't stop for a long time until he was on the floor, on his back, trying to get oxygen back in his body while you were there angrily crossing your arms.

"There, now can you answer me more properly?"

He gives you a boyish smirk, sitting up and shaking the sand off his hair.

"Dork." Your eyes snapped back to his. "W-what did you just call me?"

"I said you dork!" You didn't have time to react when he tackles you to the ground, right where the ocean touches the sand, so now your clothes are half wet half dry.

"Hey! No fair!" Okay so now you're mad, you didn't have extra clothes brought because you weren't planning to swim anyways.

"I'm wet now!" JJ snorted when you stood up, flicking the heavy sand off you. "What?!"

"Dude did you not hear yourself?"

"JJ I don't care! My clothes are wet, and it's cold! And I have nothing to change into!" You stomped on the water, briefly splashing JJ but he didn't mind.

"Woah, princess getting worked up," he raises his arms up, whistling.

"I'm serious, JJ!"

"Chill man, you're fine, its gonna dry later anyways," he speaks as if this was nothing to him, what if you get sick? The wet top and cold air blowing on your back will kill you.

You were somewhat sober now, not that drunk compared from earlier, and that was thanks to JJ's wake up call.

"It's not that big of a deal anyways— woah—"

You tried to tackle him further into the water, but he was big and heavy, and more stronger than you so all your might was only half of his, only throwing him off the ground where there was mo water than could catch him.

"Ha! See that! That's what you get!" You laugh, holding on to your stomach, you ignore the shiver than ran through you when another cold breeze came by.

You paused when you hear no JJ, he was crouched on the floor, his forehead leaning against the sand as he clutches his stomach, his face contorted into a painful one, letting out a pained groan.

"..JJ?"

"Agh— fuck—"

"Oh my go— JJ are you alright?" You hurriedly kneeled beside him, placing your hand on his back as he continued to crouch on the sand.

"I- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, JJ, I'm— w-where does it hurt? Oh gosh, JJ answer me please? Did I hit you too hard? JJ—"

You pause when he wheezes, you thought he'd hurt himself even more but he lets out a series of out of breath laughs, wheezing and punching the sand, he lied on his back once more, clutching his stomach not from pain, but from laughing.

"Wha.. JJ are you alright..?" You frown. "I-I'm— sssorrry but—"

"JJ what're you—"

"Did you actually— believe that shi—" he fell into a coma of laughter once again, kept on hitting the sand below him as you stood up with an irritated look.

"JJ, I'm actually tired, and too drunk of your bull, so if you want to keep dying here, I may as well let you."

You angrily turned around and stomped away from the twitching man. Just because you let him talk to you without getting called pogue slurs doesn't mean he can insult you like this, you won't let him.

"W-wait— wait up, stop—" he stood up staggering, calling out your name, but your ego was hurt, and you wouldn't let it past him.

"Wait— I'm sorry—" you didn't have time to react when a body hugs you from behind and throws the both of you into the water completely, you hurriedly sat up from the ambush and angrily looked around, you spot JJ, who was also drenched with you, already sat up and looking at you.

"Why did you—"

"I told you to wait up"

"I don't care If—"

“Alright chill, chill, my fault my fault, But you have to admit, that was def funny.”

You paused, trying to stop the snort out of coming your mouth. THE JJ Maybank apologized? How in the world did you—?

JJ flinched when you burst out laughing, you try to muffle it but you just couldn't stop laughing, a few seconds of you painfully wheezing then JJ bursted out laughing too, the two of you splashing around the water like children and laughing so loud you didn't even know you had in you.

"JJ Maybank—!" You inhale, wheezing it out once again. "Yeah?"

"Apologizing?!"

"Huh, why not?"

"Since the flip when?!"

"The flip?!—" that's when he bursts out laughing even more. "Now where'd you get that?"

"Wdym?!"

You splash him with water, the tides were getting bigger, and def stronger the more both of you stayed in it, he was about to splash you back when a grip on your arm pulled you up, you stumble in front of the very last person you wanted to see.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?"

You thought he was talking to you, but his eyes were trained on the soaked blond still in the water.

"No, what the fuck are you doin' here?" Now JJ was the angry one, both of them were, you meekly turned to glance at the blond behind you, silently begging him to just pull back and let everything slide on, but his attention was solely on the other blond in front of you.

"Last time I remembered, this was a no pogue zone, dipshit."

"Yeah, well I didn't see no sign, Cameron, so if you can just fuck off and leave us alone" he was standing now, just right behind you, careful on not getting too close, you might even think he was careful on not getting you wet, but technically you already were soaked in salt water.

"Since when does a fucking pogue order me around huh?" You can tell Rafe was trying to rile him up, and JJ seemed to be riled up enough.

"Since the fuck now— " you yelp as JJ pushes you aside, although he had his hand on your arm, you still trip on your feet, Rafe's hand caught your waist and pulling you up, you didn't have anytime to reload before they started punching eachother.

You had to stop them, before they kill each other again, you've always been there for each one of their party fights, the other always happy to oblige with the wishes of the opposite, but you were never the one to get involved, you were always hiding, taking your phone out just in case something happens, but this time it was just you, and the two warmongers.

That is until you hear the crowd hyping them up, then you see Sofia, uselessly standing right behind Rafe and yelling at them to stop.

No they won't stop the fuck? Hasn't she even seen them whenever they fight? No, you suppose not, she's busy flirting and frolicking around the bar and Rafe.

But what can you even do to stop them though? At least Sofia was trying, you were only standing frozen, and here you were calling her useless.

A shove from behind you quickly snapped you from your thoughts.

"S-sorry— oh shit, JJ stop no—!" It was Mr. Heyward's son, Pete? Pablo? It's on the tip of your tongue, just not quite there yet.

"Rafe, let him go, stop it!" You hear Sofia shout, but the two blonds kept landing punches on each other.

One moment they're still standing, next another they're on the floor, with JJ on top, of course Rafe wouldn't let his image get ruined like that so Rafe flipped the both of them, crashing into the waters, you hear the crowd whistling and howling, some even betting on them, it's fowl, how they think this is fun, how they think two half bloodied guys fighting are worth to bet on, Rafe had a bruised lip, while JJ was sporting a bruising black eye, both of them had bloodied noses.

Some time during everything, their friends managed to join their ruckus, turning their fight into a wrestling match, you see Topper fighting Sarah's boyfriend, uh husband, then Kelce jumping in to pull Heyward jr. away from JJ and get a punching of his own, their girls nowhere to be seen.

Except for Topper's girl, she suddenly appeared behind Sofia and pushed her away slightly, even she knew not to mess with Rafe's girl, huh, Rafe's.. girl..

You didn't even register that she was headed for you, not until she got a fist full of your hair, managing to pull you down on the ground, you didn't back up though when you got a grip on her newly bought necklace and ripped in from her neck, the necklace must've been expensive because of how tightly it clung on her neck despite how hard you pulled, the more she pulled your hair the more you pulled on her thousand dollar jewelry, then your hands finds its way to her top, if she was going to bring you down, your bringing her down with you.

"Fucking bitch!" She screams when you rip her bikini off, her grip on your hair disappears as she covers her boobs with her hands, you flip her off as you try to fix yourself, you are surrounded by phones and their flashes, but you couldn't care less when she was the one who targeted you in the first place.

You see her slink away in the crowd, muttering a curse before running off to whatever.

During the scuffle at one point the crowd slowly joined, the others just wanting to add fuel to the fire and hype up the people recording.

"Fuuuuu— booze and thiis?" You hear the guy moan, ugh, you thought, quickly scuffling away from him.

And just before you can escape the human stampede, a hand clamps around your arm, you try and keep up the mysterious hand pulling on you, only seeing a gust of blond hair on your guy, you try to pull against him but he keeps you steady behind him, your weak attempts at trying to escape looked nothing compared to his grip.

He dragged you across the brawl hurriedly, your feet taking twice as many steps as his did. "Y-you're hurting me!"

You didn't think he heard you, with the music being tuned up for the sake of the audience's enjoyment, you hear the others chanting 'fein' while punching a person square in the jaw.

"Stop! Please!" You pull for your arm, but the man yanks you back again, this time you bump into his chest that felt like bumping into a wall.

"Hold. Fucking. Still"

"R-Rafe?"

"C'mon" he grunts, you didn't even notice that you were already out of the riot until he places you in front of him, beside his truck.

Only then you noticed how bruised he actually was, his face was marked with the aftermath of the brawl—bruises blooming in dark purples and blues around his cheekbone and jaw. A cut near his eyebrow oozed slightly, leaving a faint trail of dried blood. The swelling along his lip made it difficult for him to smile, and a faint redness traced the area under his eye, hinting at a blow that landed too close.

"Rafe, you're bleeding—"

"—Don't" he raises his hand, you shut your mouth closed, as much as your ego loved seeing him like that, you couldn't deny the worry threatening to pour out, to drag him to your house and play nurse on him, you didn't like seeing him like this, you finally decided.

"We should wash that," you reach out to the cut in his eyebrow, he doesn't flinch, not like how he does when he's high. "Rafe where.."

You hesitate, he doesn't look up when you pause. "W-where's Sofia? The last time I saw her was before you—"

"—No."

"What do you mean no? What if Sofia's still back there, we should go—"

"Stop—! talking, about her I," he runs his hand through his buzz cut. "T-take, take me home, n-not, not tannyhill, no, not there, jus', yours, your house,"

You frown, what about—?

"Please.. please"

"Rafe, I don't —"

"'M not asking for a million, doll, js- just take me home..?" his voice slightly breaks at the end, his words were swirly and airy, if not high rafe then very drunk rafe.

...

"Okay."

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe Ⅷ

Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Notes: it's been tooooo long😫

The next morning arrived too quickly, and with it, a new weight settled in your chest. The warmth of the fire had long since faded, leaving you shivering in the cold, empty cave. You had slept, but it was a restless sleep, haunted by his words and the lingering sense of dread that had become all too familiar.

You sat up slowly, wincing at the stiffness in your muscles. The tension from the night before had not eased. If anything, it had only deepened, thickening the air around you. Today, you would face your master again, and you knew without a doubt that last night's encounter had only been a taste of what was to come.

You busied yourself with the morning routine, cleaning the remnants of last night’s fire and preparing a simple breakfast. The silence of the cave pressed down on you, as if the very walls were watching, waiting for something to happen. But he was still nowhere to be seen.

Part of you was relieved. The other part knew that this temporary reprieve would not last.

You gathered your things, preparing to head out and continue your duties for the day. But just as you slung your satchel over your shoulder, the soft sound of footsteps echoed from the cave's entrance.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze in place. The familiar presence filled the air, a weight you couldn’t ignore.

He was back.

You turned slowly, your eyes meeting his figure as he stepped into the cave, his face as unreadable as ever. There was no greeting, no acknowledgment of last night’s tension—just the cold, calculating look in his eyes that sent a chill down your spine.

"You're up early," he commented, his voice flat. "Good."

You said nothing, unsure of how to respond. The tension between you was palpable, and you could sense that whatever he had planned for today, it wouldn’t be easy.

"We're leaving," he said, moving past you without another word. "There's something we need to take care of."

You hesitated for a moment, watching as he gathered his things. Leaving? Where? And why so suddenly? You had so many questions, but none of them felt safe to ask.

Instead, you nodded, quickly following him out of the cave and into the cold morning air. The wind whipped at your face, biting at your skin as you pulled your cloak tighter around yourself. He walked ahead, his pace brisk and determined, and you struggled to keep up.

"Where are we going?" you finally asked, your voice tentative.

He didn’t look back, his gaze fixed ahead. "You’ll see."

The words did nothing to ease your growing unease. You wanted to ask more, to understand what was happening, but something in his tone kept you silent. This wasn’t the time to push him. Not yet.

The path grew narrower as you walked, the terrain rougher. The wind howled through the jagged rocks, drowning out any sounds but the crunch of your boots on the ground. After what felt like hours, you reached a small, secluded clearing hidden deep within the cliffs. The view was stunning—overlooking the expanse of wilderness below—but the beauty was lost on you in the face of the tension crackling in the air.

Je stopped at the edge of the clearing, his back still to you, and you hesitated a few steps behind him. Something was wrong. You could feel it.

"Do you know why I brought you here?" he asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the wind.

You shook your head, though you knew he wasn’t looking at you. "No, Master."

He was silent for a long moment, his shoulders tense, before finally turning to face you. His eyes were dark, piercing, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he stepped closer.

"I’ve been patient with you," he began, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of something far more dangerous. "I’ve given you guidance, power, and knowledge. But it seems my patience has limits."

Your heart raced as he spoke, the coldness in his tone making it clear that this was no ordinary reprimand.

"I brought you here to remind you of your place," he continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "You are mine—my apprentice. My tool. And I will not tolerate disobedience, nor will I allow you to jeopardize everything we’ve built."

The words struck like a hammer, each one cutting deeper than the last. You wanted to protest, to explain yourself, but you knew it wouldn’t matter. He had already made up his mind.

"You’ve been distracted," he said, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "By the Jedi, by your emotions. That ends today."

Before you could react, he moved. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a grip that was far too tight, pulling you closer until your faces were inches apart.

"You will obey me," he hissed, his breath hot against your skin. "Or I will make sure you regret it."

Your pulse raced beneath his grip, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. This wasn’t the master you had known—the man who had taught you, guided you. This was someone else entirely. Someone far more dangerous.

And yet, deep down, you knew that this version of him had always been there, lurking beneath the surface.

His grip tightened, and you winced at the pain. "Do you understand?"

You nodded, too afraid to do anything else. "Yes, Master."

He released you abruptly, stepping back as if nothing had happened. His expression remained cold, detached, as he turned away from you and gazed out at the horizon.

"Good," he said, his voice flat. "Remember that."

You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind reeling. What had just happened? The man standing before you was no longer just your master—he was a threat, a danger you could no longer ignore.

As the wind whipped around you, you felt the weight of your situation settling heavily on your shoulders. You were trapped, bound to him in ways you hadn’t fully understood until now.

The wind howled louder, whipping through the clearing as if nature itself sensed the shift in the air. He stood still, his back to you, but the weight of his presence pressed down on you like a suffocating force. Your wrist throbbed where he had grabbed you, a painful reminder of how much control he truly held over you. The fear was real, palpable, but underneath it was something more—resentment. His grip on your life, both literal and metaphorical, was growing tighter, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take before you snapped.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, though your thoughts raced. For so long, you had trusted him, believed in his teachings, even if they came with harsh lessons. But today was different. Today felt like a test—one that had nothing to do with your abilities as his apprentice and everything to do with control.

But you couldn’t fight him. Not here. Not now.

He finally turned, his face as unreadable as ever. "We’re done here," he said, his tone back to its usual detached calm. "Let’s return."

You hesitated, unsure if he meant physically or something more. When he began walking back the way you had come, you followed in silence, your mind still buzzing with everything that had just happened.

The walk back felt longer than before, each step heavy with the tension between you. It was like walking a tightrope—one misstep, and you knew he would react with the same intensity as he had in the clearing. Every movement, every glance, felt scrutinized, as if he was waiting for another reason to reprimand you. The anxiety gnawed at your insides, but you pushed it down. You had to stay focused.

By the time you returned to the cave, the sky had grown dark, the sun barely visible on the horizon. The air inside was still cold, the fire long dead, and the dim light only added to the oppressive feeling that had followed you all day. He didn’t say a word as he moved to his own space in the cave, leaving you standing awkwardly by the entrance.

You stared at him for a long moment, a flurry of conflicting emotions bubbling to the surface. The fear still lingered, but so did the defiance. This was wrong. You knew it. But confronting him now, when his mood was this volatile, would only lead to more consequences. You needed time. Time to figure out what to do, how to navigate this impossible situation without pushing him too far.

Finally, you moved to your own small corner of the cave, sitting down heavily and pulling your cloak tightly around yourself. The cold seemed to seep into your bones, but it wasn’t just the physical chill that bothered you—it was the uncertainty, the growing realization that you might not be able to escape whatever he had planned for you.

The silence stretched on, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the wind outside. You close your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing, on calming the storm inside your mind. But no matter how hard you tried, the image of his cold eyes, his hand on your wrist, and the threat behind his words wouldn’t leave you.

He wasn’t just your master anymore. He was something far more dangerous.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, lost in your thoughts, when the sound of movement caught your attention. Your eyes snapped open, and you saw him standing by the cave entrance, his expression unreadable as he gazed out into the night.

"There’s something else you should know," he said, his voice breaking the stillness. You stiffened, unsure if you were ready for whatever he was about to say. "I’ve made arrangements for us to leave tomorrow."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Leave?"

He nodded. "We won’t be staying here any longer. Our mission is changing, and we need to adapt. You’ll need to be ready."

The ambiguity in his words sent a shiver down your spine. Adapt? To what?

"Where are we going?" you asked cautiously.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze flickering toward you. "A place where you will learn what true loyalty means. And where you’ll see what happens to those who forget their place."

His cryptic words sent a wave of unease through you. Every step you took seemed to lead you deeper into the shadows, and he was pulling you along, whether you wanted to follow or not.

You didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, you nodded, your mind racing with possibilities, none of them comforting.

That night, you lay on the cold ground, unable to sleep. Every sound outside the cave felt amplified, every gust of wind like a whisper of what was to come. The fear of the unknown gnawed at your insides, but beneath that fear, a small flame of resistance flickered. You wouldn’t let him break you, not completely.

Whatever lay ahead, you would face it. But you would do so on your terms, not his.

As sleep finally began to take you, one thought lingered at the forefront of your mind:

This wasn’t over. Not yet.

[amarmoria]

Okay, I’ll say it endlessly but I love your writing. You’re divine. Currently you, @fhrlclln and @Devieuls are the best authors in writing Qimir. Keep the fandom active. I need a collab or something, because I worship you as my goddesses

That's so cute of you babes, the fandom's like dead for while now I'm so disapppointed that manny jacinto died down too fast :( ANYWAYS, there are very great, LIKE SUPER, I haven't had the time to read theirs but eventually I will :)

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe Ⅶ

Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Wc: 2.7k

His eyes landed on the pot still simmering gently over the dying fire, the smell of the stew still lingering faintly in the air. A subtle reminder of your effort, despite the chaotic emotions you’d gone through earlier. He moved quietly, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form, curled up on the cold stone floor with nothing but your tunic to keep you warm. His jaw clenched at the sight.

Good girl. He thought again, but this time, there was an edge to the sentiment. Despite everything, you had stayed here, cooked, waited for them to return—no matter how much it racked your brain. And yet, there was something undeniably satisfying about seeing you this vulnerable, completely unaware of his presence.

He crouched beside you, his fingers hovering near your cheek, close enough to feel your soft, rhythmic breaths but not quite touching. The firelight flickered against his skin, casting long shadows across the room as his thoughts twisted in dangerous directions. You were always so dutiful, so eager to prove yourself, but what did that Jedi make you feel? Was it loyalty? Curiosity? Or was it something else, something deeper?

His eyes narrowed as he watched you sleep. He could kill the Jedi—he had the skills, the connections, and the resolve—but that wouldn’t satisfy the gnawing doubt he felt. What would be the point of eliminating competition if he didn’t know where your heart truly lay? If your loyalty was split, if your desires wandered elsewhere, no amount of violence would keep you his.

He rose silently, his hand finally pulling back from your face. He wasn’t ready to lose control, you, not yet. But you needed to understand your place—your duty to him. And if fear was the only language you could understand, he would speak it fluently.

Qimir turned towards the hearth, picking up a bowl and ladling some stew into it. He took a bite, the rich flavors coating his tongue, but his mind remained elsewhere. He kept glancing back at your sleeping form, the taste of the meal tainted by his brewing resentment.

After finishing, he extinguished the remaining embers in the fire and strode toward his bed. Tomorrow, he will need to do it. There would need to be consequences for your actions—something to remind you who truly owned you, body and mind. He could only hope that, after this, you would finally understand.

---

The next morning, the air was thick with an unsettling quiet, broken only by the distant sound of the wind howling through the cave's entrance. You woke slowly, the cold stone floor stiffening your muscles as you blinked the sleep from your eyes. For a moment, you forgot where you were, but the reality hit you quickly enough.

You sat up, your thoughts immediately clouded by the memory of yesterday’s events. Qimir’s harsh words, the tension between you, and your own spiraling emotions left a bitter taste in your mouth. You rubbed your temples, trying to clear the remnants of a restless sleep.

The cave felt emptier than usual, almost hollow. You glanced around but saw no sign of them. Good. You needed space, time to think, to process everything that had happened without feeling his looming presence over you.

But as you stood and stretched, the familiar weight of dread settled in your chest. What would happen now? Would Qimir tell the master about your encounter with the Jedi? Would there be repercussions you hadn’t anticipated? Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them good.

You busied yourself with cleaning up the remnants of last night's meal, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling further. As you wiped down the table and scrubbed the pot, you noticed the other bowl empty, surely no animal would use a spoon and cleanly eat on the table, you shrugged and put the cloth down, then you caught sight of something out of the corner of your eye—a small piece of paper, folded neatly and left on the edge of the stone bench.

You frowned, wiping your hands on your tunic before picking it up. The paper was crisp, freshly folded, and bore no markings on the outside. You unfolded it carefully, your heart pounding in your chest as you read the words inside:

'Meet me at dusk. Don’t keep me waiting.'

The handwriting was unmistakable—your master's sharp, angular script. You stared at the note, the weight of his words sinking in.

usk.

He wanted to speak to you, and whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

A knot formed in your stomach as you crumpled the paper in your hand. You had no choice but to go. Whatever your master had planned, it was clear he wasn’t going to let this go easily. You weren’t sure what you feared more—his anger or his silence.

-

The rest of the day passed in a haze of anxious energy. You went about your usual tasks, but your thoughts were consumed by the looming meeting with your master Every sound seemed sharper, every shadow in the cave darker as the weight of his presence crept back into your mind.

As the sky began to dim and the familiar colors of dusk bled into the horizon, you could feel your nerves tightening like a string pulled taut. The note stayed crumpled in your pocket, as if holding onto it could somehow anchor you to the reality of what was coming, you brought your saber too, safely tucked in your hip, rule no. 2, don't ever let go of your saber, ever.

Finally, you made your way outside, the cold air biting against your skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm, but no amount of heat could fight the chill creeping up your spine. The meeting place was in a secluded corner near the cliffs, away from the cave's entrance where the wind was harsher and the shadows were longer.

As you approached, you saw your master standing with his back to you, his silhouette outlined against the dying light of the day. His posture was rigid, unmoving, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could sense the tension radiating from him like a physical force.

You swallowed hard, your steps slowing as you got closer.

“You wanted to see me,” you called out softly, your voice barely carrying over the wind.

He didn’t turn immediately. He stood there for a moment, letting the silence drag on before finally speaking.

“Do you know why I asked you here?” His voice was low, controlled, but you could hear the strain beneath the surface.

You shifted nervously, feeling the weight of his unspoken accusation. “I... I thought we could talk about—”

Before you could finish, he turned sharply to face you, his expression dark and unreadable. “Talk about what?” he cut in, his tone laced with something that sent a shiver through you. “About how you defied me? How you put everything at risk because of your reckless curiosity?”

You opened your mouth to protest, to explain yourself, but the words caught in your throat. He stepped closer, his presence towering over you.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he continued, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. “The way you looked at that Jedi. The way you were so eager to listen to his words, as if I haven’t taught you enough.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a twinge of confusion, how you looked at the jedi? "That's not—"

"Do you even realize what you’ve done?" His voice rose slightly, the mask of calm slipping as he loomed over you. "You’ve drawn attention to yourself, to us. You’ve jeopardized everything because you can’t control your feelings."

His words hit you like a blow, sharp and unforgiving. You hadn’t meant for things to escalate this way, but now, standing here under his intense scrutiny, the weight of your actions felt suffocating.

"I was just trying to understand," you whispered, trying to hold onto some shred of your own reasoning. "I wasn't trying to betray you. I would never do that."

His eyes flashed, something like anger and something else—something far more unsettling—swirling beneath the surface. He stepped closer, so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin.

"Understand?" he echoed, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "There is nothing for you to understand. You belong to me. Not to him, not to anyone else. And I will not tolerate any disobedience."

Your breath caught as his hand came up, his fingers grazing your jaw with a touch that was too soft for the intensity of his words. It was a strange, disorienting contrast—the way his touch seemed almost tender, but his words dripped with possessiveness and control.

"You will listen to me," he continued, his eyes boring into yours. "You will learn your place. And if I ever see you acting against me again... there will be consequences."

You wanted to shrink away, to retreat from the suffocating proximity, but your feet felt frozen in place. His hand slid from your jaw to your neck, his thumb pressing lightly against your pulse. Your heart raced beneath his touch, each beat a reminder of the dangerous line you were walking.

"I'm not afraid of you," you whispered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the truth.

His head tilts a bit, if only he didn't have his mask, you could've seen him smirking. "You should be."

And with that, he released you, stepping back as if to give you room to breathe—but the tension in the air remained thick, choking. He turned his back on you once more, his voice calm, as if the storm had passed.

Then it came.

The cold, metallic hum of the Sith's crimson blade echoes through the air as it clashes with your own lightsaber, sending a ripple of energy through your body. You're locked in a deadly dance, the red glow of his saber illuminating the setting sun around you. His strikes are quick, calculated, and full of malice—he's testing you, pushing your limits.

You deflect another vicious strike, the weight of his power pressing down on you as your sabers grind together in a shower of sparks. His face is obscured by his hood, but you can feel his eyes boring into you, searching for any sign of weakness.

"You're holding back," he growls, his voice a low snarl. He steps forward, forcing you to backpedal as he unleashes a flurry of brutal, precise strikes. Each one tests your reflexes, your endurance, but you parry and deflect with determination, your body moving almost on instinct.

"I'm not!" you bite back, gritting your teeth as you push him away with a Force shove, creating a brief moment of distance. But the Sith is relentless, immediately rushing back at you with an overhead slash. You raise your saber just in time, blocking the blow, though the sheer force of it sends shockwaves down your arms.

The dark energy radiating from him is suffocating, clouding your mind with doubt. But you push through, focusing on your training, on the rhythm of the fight. He steps to the side, spinning his blade toward your midsection. You pivot, barely dodging the strike, and bring your saber around to counterattack. For a brief moment, you manage to go on the offensive, forcing him to block and evade your strikes.

But he’s fast—too fast. His saber flashes red as it whips toward your face, and you duck just in time. The heat of the blade burns the air inches above your head. Without thinking, you lunge forward, thrusting your saber toward his chest, but he sidesteps with a cruel laugh.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he sneers, sending a shockwave of Force energy that knocks you off your feet and slams you into the cold floor. Your lightsaber slips from your grasp, skidding across the room. Panic floods your veins as he slowly approaches, his lightsaber humming menacingly at his side.

You reach out with the Force, calling your saber back to your hand, but he’s already upon you. His foot presses against your chest, pinning you to the ground. The tip of his blade hovers dangerously close to your throat, its red glow casting eerie shadows on your face.

“You fought well,” he says, his voice dark and mocking. “But not well enough.”

You huff as your saber falls from your hand, your too tired to even pick it up, but the sith in front of you seems opposite.

"Return to the cave. Reflect on what I’ve told you."

You hesitated, unsure if it was truly over, but when he didn’t speak again, you took a shaky breath and forced your legs to move. With one last glance at his rigid figure, you turned and made your way back to the cave, the weight of his warning hanging over you like a shadow.

Inside, the fire had gone out, and the air was cold and still. You collapsed onto the floor, your mind spinning with the events of the evening.

You sat there, staring into the darkness of the cave, your thoughts swirling like a storm. The tension still gripped your chest, refusing to let go. His words echoed in your mind, his possessive touch still lingering on your skin, the surprise duel. You tried to reason with yourself, to find a way to justify what had happened, but nothing made sense anymore.

He had never spoken to you like that before, he was always quiet, judging from far. The man you had once trusted, respected, even admired... now seemed like someone entirely different. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. What had changed? What had you done to make him so... volatile?

Or had he always been this way, and you were only now beginning to see it?

You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to steady your breathing. You weren't afraid of him. You had told him that, years ago didn't you?

Every beat of your heart reminded you of the danger you were in. His words had been a warning, a promise. He would not tolerate disobedience. The consequences, should you defy him again, would be far worse than tonight's encounter. And the way he had touched you—possessively, as if he owned you—sent a ripple of fear through your veins.

But beneath that fear, there was something else. Something deeper, more unsettling. A flicker of defiance.

You weren’t his. Not really. You were more than just an obedient apprentice—more than just a pawn in his game. You had thoughts, feelings, desires of your own, and no matter how much he tried to control you, he couldn't take that away. Could he?

You stood, your muscles stiff from sitting on the cold stone floor, and moved to relight the fire. The warmth spread slowly, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the chill that had settled inside you. The crackling flames offered a momentary distraction, but your mind kept circling back to one thing: the Jedi, what if you just ignored him that day, went on with whatever you wanted to do and left him be?

What had Qimir said to him that caused this reaction from the master? Had you really acted so carelessly? Or was he simply seeing threats where none existed? You couldn’t be sure anymore.

A part of you wanted to push back, to prove that you weren’t weak, that you weren’t just going to roll over and accept whatever he decided for you. But another part of you—the part still trembling from the weight of his words—knew that crossing him again could be catastrophic.

You had no choice but to tread carefully. For now.

As the fire crackled louder, casting shadows on the cave walls, you stared into the flames, thinking of what the future held.

With a heavy sigh, you lay down near the fire, the warmth slowly soothing your aching muscles. Tomorrow was another day, and you would face whatever came. But tonight, all you could do was hold onto the small spark of defiance inside you, hoping it would be enough to carry you through whatever came next.

As sleep began to pull you under, his voice echoed in your mind again, soft but chilling: "You belong to me.”

But no, you thought, your resolve hardening.

I belong to no one.

And with that, sleep finally took you.

[amarmoria]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[amarmoria]

#1 nepenthe glazer back again (#1ng for short from now on) to say THANK YOU FOR THE NEW CHAPTER. I was relentlessly refreshing the qimir tags, it was like I could sense that you were going to drop something. Our pookie qimir has absolutely redeemed himself. Finding out that he's been following reader around and watching her while she thinks he's out with Mae? GOOD FUCKING SOUP 🗣🗣 I LOVE the way you write him. Like he's obviously really obsessed with mc and devoted tp her but he shows it in a way that still adheres to his need for power. You really captured the sith essence. Anyways, I have yapped for long enough. Thank you for the new chapter and bless up 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙂‍↕️

AWWWWW, this got me smiling in the middle of the night🥹, this is so cute😡,and waiting in the qimir tags?! Good thing the gods graced my hands and let them work there way tonight😜🤞I was contemplating whether to post this chapter because the pacing might be too fast? Idk but I'm very happy you liked it🥹

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe Ⅵ

Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Wc: 2.6k

Notes: thank you guys for your support, like for real, please like, comment or reblog so I'll know if u want me to continue the story!

Your eyes linger on the doorway long after Yord leaves, what would've happened if you went with him? Surely Qimir won't let that happen, you gulp as you remember the other man behind you, you can feel him staring holes into you.

You wanted to wait this whole thing out, let it unravel itself without you, but you were the reason this thing is there, so you have to play a part in it. You dragged on the seconds for too long on your side, before speaking up.

"Qimir—"

"What would the master do if he were to know about this?"

His stern tone surprises you, never you've heard him like this, especially when speaking about the master, he was always light about him, not staying too far on the topic.

"H-he didn't know I was here, I also— I didn't.. I wasn't going to talk to him, but he was a customer look- looking for something and I, he had coins not, not credits so I thought you'd want it.. you know.."

Your throat was hoarse when you stopped yapping, you don't hear his response, maybe it was better, you're too scared to look him in the eye, you weren't so used to seeing him like this, maybe Mae was, maybe it was always Mae, whether it be with your master or Qimir.

He was still quiet even after giving him a few more seconds to cool down, you glanced up at him, trying to read his quiet thoughts when you see his eyes already staring you down, your breath hicks, stuck in your throat when he tilts his head to the side.

“I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, Qimir. I just—he came into the shop, and I didn’t know what to do. I never—”

As you stammer through your explanation, trying desperately to justify your encounter with the Jedi, Qimir’s cold eyes bore into you. His fingers flex by his sides, the tension clear in the air as if he’s trying to hold something back.

"You’re lying, Bee. You’ve spoken to him before, haven’t you?" His voice is low, calm, but you can sense the storm underneath.

He takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming, but not yet menacing. He leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath against your cheek.

You quickly shake your head, trying to correct him. "I— I didn’t mean to! I swear, Qimir! I didn’t want to disobey… but—"

"But what?" he cuts you off sharply, his hand twitching as if fighting the urge to grab you. "The master told me to spy on you, did you know that?

You freeze at his words, unsure of how to respond. The silence between you grows unbearable, and Qimir’s calm exterior starts to crack.

In that moment, Qimir’s eyes darken, his usual aloof persona slipping. His fingers clench into fists, knuckles whitening.

He begins pacing, unable to contain himself. The room feels smaller, his energy suffocating. You can see him fighting the impulse to lash out, but he stops just before going too far.

“I should punish you, you know that?” He whispers harshly, his voice shaking slightly. "But... no. Not yet." His expression shifts into something dangerous, a struggle warring in his gaze. Not yet? Then when? And all the more why?

As much as he wants to lose control, he reminds himself of his place, of the persona he must maintain. He takes a step back, straightening his robes, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he reins in his temper.

“But this—” he gestures to you, to the situation, "is your last warning. Next time, you’ll answer directly to the master."

You let a small sigh of relief release from your mouth, everything was so suffocating, maybe even more, since when did Qimir get so.. sober? Just mere moments before he left you to guard the shop, he smelled of beer, he was surly, tipsy, very drunk.

You're too tired to even think of it as you watch Qimir busying himself with his work.

-

After that morning, you decided to stay until mid-noon to help around, the uncomfortable silence silently torturing you as you hopped around the shop.

You bid Qimir a small goodbye even if he didn't respond before headed your way to your small ship, maybe it's time you come back home, Mae might've missed you, or the certain masked man, you shook your head of such thoughts when you neared the planet's atmosphere.

As your ship approaches the ground, the sky darkens almost as quickly as you arrived, swirling black clouds and the wind picking up the more your mind decides on staying. When you land, the air feels thick with tension, anger, almost as if the planet itself was watching you. You stepped out, greeted by an unusual stillness—no sounds of nature, no visible life, just the ominous structure of the master's dwelling and subtle aura in the distance, you feel a slight shiver down your nape as you approach the all knowing cave.

You enter the dark cave, but there were no sounds of tinkering or conversation, or the simple buzz of your master's saber, not even the candle lights were on.

You didn't know whether you were happy, or relieved that they weren't here, but you could feel the tug in your chest at the thought of them going on a mission and not even letting you know, a simple note would've sufficed, "hey we're going on a trip, just letting you know, we're definitely not eating each other's face right now"

Your jaw flexes at the thought, a pout makes its way on your face as you huff and roll your eyes, you don't need him them, you're better off alone here than be with them and watch them eye fuck eachother.

Yes. You don't need to worry about anything other than Qimir snitching on you, the thought of earlier morning's thing brings a small shiver on your arms. You shook your head and made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a small pot.

The cave was quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that seeps into your bones and makes your thoughts louder, more oppressive. You tried to shake it off, focusing on the task at hand. Dinner. You’d decided to cook, to keep yourself busy, but that creeping feeling of being left out gnawed at you the entire time.

It was supposed to be a simple meal for three, but as you chopped the vegetables with a little too much force, you couldn’t help but think about where the master and Mae were. They should’ve been back by now. You glanced at the entrance, the light from the setting sun casting long shadows across the stone walls. Still no sign of them.

Your stomach twisted in irritation, though you told yourself it wasn’t jealousy. No, it couldn’t be that. But it was hard not to imagine them together, doing whatever they did when they were off alone—likely far more than what you had ever shared with the master. The idea made your chest tighten. You slammed the knife down on the cutting board, the sound of metal on stone ringing sharply in the silence.

The vegetables were chopped far too finely. You sighed, trying to steady your breath. Maybe if you threw yourself into cooking, you could stop your mind from wandering to places it didn’t belong.

You grabbed a pot and set it over the fire that you’d kindled in the hearth. The flames flickered, casting an orange glow across the room. As you added a splash of oil, the faint sizzle reminded you of the small comforts of routine. You tossed the onions in next, watching them brown and soften, the smell filling the air. Normally, this would have calmed you, but today, the rhythmic stirring only made you more restless.

Mae had always been closer to the master than you. Even if they didn’t openly flaunt it, you could sense the way they moved together—their unspoken understanding, the way they communicated without words. You threw in some garlic, the sharp scent hitting your nose as it began to cook. You bit your lip, trying to push the intrusive thoughts away.

It’s none of your business what they’re doing.

But it was impossible not to think about it. You had spent all this time with the master, learning from him, training under his watchful eye, and yet, you always felt like you were on the outside looking in. Even now, cooking for the three of you felt like a mockery of something domestic, something that should be shared, not endured alone while they… what? You didn’t even want to picture it.

With a frustrated grunt, you threw the vegetables into the pot, the sizzling growing louder as they hit the hot surface. You reached for the spices, your hands moving on autopilot. Salt, pepper, dried herbs—none of it mattered if they weren’t here to eat it.

The stew began to bubble, and you forced yourself to focus on the way the ingredients melded together, the aroma starting to fill the cave. But the smell wasn’t enough to drown out your feelings. You stirred the pot vigorously, your movements erratic, as if you could stir away the frustration bubbling up inside you.

'They’re probably laughing right now,' you thought bitterly, your hand tightening around the wooden spoon. 'Maybe they’re somewhere, wrapped up in each other, while I’m stuck here, playing the part of the third wheel. Always the servant.'

The wooden spoon scraped the bottom of the pot as you stirred more aggressively. You wanted to cry, to scream, to do anything but stand here pretending like everything was normal. The food was cooking, but the frustration only grew.

You grabbed some meat that you had left aside, slicing it with sharp, precise movements. Each cut was a small release of the tension coiled in your chest. You threw the chunks into the pot without care, the stew splashing slightly as the pieces hit the liquid. You didn’t care if it tasted good anymore. Let them eat it, let them sit here in awkward silence while you fumed inside.

After a while, the stew thickened, but the heaviness in your chest didn’t go away. You glanced toward the cave entrance again, still no sign of them. Of course not.

You wiped your hands on your tunic, smearing a bit of flour across the fabric.The thought of them returning, laughing, maybe sharing a secret glance that you weren’t privy to, only made your stomach churn.

You sat down at the small stone table, staring at the bubbling pot. The flames flickered beneath it, but the warmth did nothing to melt the coldness in your chest. You crossed your arms, tapping your foot against the rough stone floor.

What if they never came back? What if they just stayed out there, wherever they were, leaving you to fend for yourself?The ridiculousness of the thought made you scoff, but it was hard to banish the feeling of abandonment that tugged at you.

You weren’t just upset at being alone—you were upset because you felt forgotten, overshadowed by someone else who always seemed to fit better into his world.

You stood abruptly, pacing around the small space, unable to sit still. The stew would be done soon, but the act of cooking hadn’t brought the relief you hoped for.

Your thoughts were louder now, more chaotic, spinning out of control as you imagined every scenario that could be unfolding between them.Did they even think of you?

The cave was growing darker as night set in, and you sighed, running a hand through your hair. You had no appetite. If they came back, you weren’t sure you’d even be able to sit with them without saying something you’d regret.

You took one last look at the pot, then turned your back on it, moving to sit on the cold stone bench by the fire. You watched the flames flicker, the heat licking at your skin.

It was getting late.

They should have been back by now.

But they weren’t.And as you sat there, staring into the fire, the thought of Mae and the master together gnawed at you until all you could feel was that ever-present sting of being left behind.

Just a night ago, you were here, at this very spot, grinding on each other, and now he's somewhere out there grinding on her, you shivered at the thought.

You glared at your ready made soup, you shouldn't have made this, you should've just made a small portion for yourself and sleep, let them starve themselves to sleep.

-

Not only a few hours later, Qimir comes back home, he steps quietly into the cave, the fire and lanterns already extinguished.

Good girl.

He thought. After you left, he let himself drown in his work, thinking of countless ways to get rid of the competition, he could just kill him, fast and no one would even notice him assassinating a jedi because he talking to you, but no, he wanted to know what you were thinking when you talked to the jedi, touched him, looked at him.

His thoughts were stolen away when he saw your slumped figure on the ground, peacefully sleeping like you weren't scolded already for what, 2-3 times?

His eyes landed on your chest, then to your stomach, he knew you were truly asleep, you were breathing slowly, the way your stomach moves and your chest heaves, he knows everything about you, more than you know about yourself, he studied every twitch and sound and tone, he even knows about your little rebellion right now, because of Mae, oh poor child, you just don't know do you?

His breath hitched as the tension in the room thickened. He shifted on his feet, feeling an unmistakable tightness growing beneath the fabric of his pants. The thin material stretched slightly, revealing the telltale rise that he couldn't control, no matter how much he tried to keep his composure. Heat surged through him, and he fought the urge to just touch himself as his eyes glided over your sleeping body, his mind racing, betraying the calm expression on his face.

His eyes glanced to the side, where he found two bowls on the table, both covered in cloth surely to protect them from the annoying pests flying around, the tent on his pants were now very visible, not even his top robe can cover the hardened and leaking member.

How sweet you were, already doing a good job, your job, whenever you were home and not doing errands, which he also likes stalking you while you do, he would always cancel his duo missions with Mae, making her go alone, just so he can sit there and pretend not to notice you, all while you do chores that makes his cock spring up, like when the sun comes up and all the plants stand up to look at it, something about seeing you being so domestic, so normal, doing chores in the cave he built, with the things he stole, with the ingredients he provided, can't help but palm himself while facing away from you, shamelessly doing so as you sat across him during meals, meals you meticulously prepared, so you could please him, so good, so obedient, so obsessed.

He had to stop himself from grabbing you and just..

No, not yet, not now, he needs you where you need to be, and you're not quite there yet, just a little more.

He approaches the table with the two bowls, grabbing the bigger bowl, which he assumes you picked out for him, he can eat it here, while looking at you, but he won't be able to stop himself, so he takes off a few layers before headed out to the lagoon, only bringing with him his saber, the soup and a spoon.

[amarmoria]

"What if we're both red flags then."

[amarmoria]

I’d just like to say I love nepenthe so much you write angst/ jealousy so good, thank you for blessing my eyes with this story 😝😝

I absolutely love when you guys send these, and NO, I thank ✨you✨ for liking it

[amarmoria]

Girl as the anon before said i keep rereading the last chapeter. So excited to see where this story will go. Cant wait for the next ch, but also take all the time you need :)

HAHAHAHAHHAHA this was me when I didn't write stories yet. I had to reread my fav fics until I got tired of them and had to write my own😔

[amarmoria]

I loveeeeee you and I’m agree 100% with what you said on your bio! hopefully our hyperfixation on manny will stay!

I need more of your story and can I request for you to make it angsty ? just ignore it if you don’t want to, no problem.

I HOPE THIS ONE LAST FOR LIKE UNTIL I MAKE MORE FICS ABT HIM.

And OFC2 I'm Tryna add angst like, super angst but I keep making it funny????? Like where'd you go angst???😔

[amarmoria]

Diary Entry #1

Nepenthe

Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a Padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

{on-going}

Sempiternal

Yao x Marconi! Reader

10 days in some spa center with your family wouldn't be too bad right...?

{on-going}

[amarmoria]

I LOVE NEPENTHE SO MUCH. When you release new chapter i5 like one of the highlights of the day. The way Qimir got so possessive in the last one. The way his cheery vibe went away the minute he saw Yord sjshsjsidjsihd. Cant wait for the next chapter.

AHHHHH I GOT THE TINGLES WHEN I WROTE IT TOO, LES GOO QIMIRRRR