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two-white-butterflies · 10 months ago

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coaxed you into paradise - c. 30

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

TW: death, murder, sexual assault, assault in general.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Thirty: Blood and Cheese II

The Dragons descended into Westeros with avarice, and with avarice their dynasty continues onwards. Blood against blood, dragons against dragons. The Targaryens have conquered the six-kingdoms, yet their their biggest enemy is themselves.

Alyssa, the princess was always drawn to the ocean. She liked the feel of the waves on her knees, the rough sand on her barefoot. She holds her son, Aelor, close to her bosom. "Where could your father have trailed off to?" she mused, staring deep into her son's eyes.

Aemond days ago.

Alicent would not provide her a clear answer.

Cordelia peeks through the small curtain that hid Alyssa's body. "The Queen calls for you, princess." she bowed. Alyssa's eyebrows merged into each other. "It is far too early in the morning for conversation," she smiled, hoping to dismiss the handmaiden.

"I-I, well the Queen was very firm. It would be best to follow her, princess." the handmaiden stuttered, knowing something that her lady did not. A creature of doubt builds inside of her ribcage. Alyssa was no stranger to war.

Her real father, Daemon Targaryen, fought thousands of them before she was whelped into the world. "Is it important?" her frown deepened and the handmaiden nods. "Very well, prepare my gown and take good care of Prince Aelor." she commanded while rising to her feet.

A dragon does not cower behind the four walls of her bedroom. She fights all her battles, the same.

Alyssa takes a step forward, entering the threshold of her good-mother's bedroom. There were pastries scattered on the table, a warm cup of tea waiting for her.

"Your grace." she curtsied, then licking her chapped lips. "Alyssa, how kind of you to join me." Alicent smiled with a knowing stare. There was something behind those brown irises that unnerved her. "Have you seen Prince Aemond?" she inquired with a cautious tone.

"Your grandfather is dead and the soldiers march for war against Rhaenyra." Alicent says frankly, no longer interested in sugar-coating her words. A gasp escapes her mouth. King Viserys was dead? "I have sent my son away to make negotiations with House Baratheon." she adds, her eyes filled with much more sorrow than usual.

Alyssa tries to calm herself down, but her heart was filled with anger.

"You thought it would be fit to usurp the rightful Queen?" she questioned, still trying to keep her tone soft.

"King Viserys told me before he died, that he changed his mind."

"- thought that Aegon was deserving of his titles." Alicent lied.

Alyssa clenches her fists. "- but that isn't the truth, isn't it?" she argued, wanting nothing more than to jump into the arms of her beloved husband. If Aemond was beside her, she'd convince him - they'd defect and crown the rightful Queen.

"You need not lie to me. If I had been in your shoes, I would've done the very same. It is not everyday that a woman's son becomes King - but even the blind could see that Prince Aegon is not a worthy heir." she presented clear, and offense strikes the Queen Mother's face.

"He is greater than his father. He listens to his advisors." Alicent grits her teeth, unamused at Alyssa's defiance. "- and I assume that you believe yourself to be his advisor." she antagonized. "You were the King's advisor too, but that did not save you. My Queen, I apologize for my brashness, but you do not wish to be free, you merely wish to create a window of your prison." Alyssa scoffed.

Queen Alicent was about to respond, but a knock halts their argument. Her uncle, Lord Larys Strong, marches inside of the chambers. "Queen Alicent, Princess Alyssa." he curtsies, quickly sashaying to Alicent's side.

He leans forward, whispering a few strings of words, but the premise was clear enough for Alyssa.

Prince Lucerys Velaryon was dead, and Aemond had been the one to butcher him.

Saera takes a deep breath, in fear of what Rhaenyra was capable of. "One cannot even imagine the pain she's feeling right now, I fear that she'll do something. She'll want to get even." the White Princess breathes, playing with the bracelet on her wrist.

"- that means that Alyssa and Aelor are in danger?" Daegon inquires, his eyebrows merging into each other. He couldn't bare the thought of harm coming to his twin sister.

Daemon presses his fingers to his lips.

"Rhaenyra will not harm them. We are her strongest allies, losing us could mean losing the war." he gave his informed opinion. "- still, you are right, love. Alyssa and Aelor will not be safe in Kingslanding."

"We are caught in a limbo, then?" her eyes narrowed. "We must get our daughter back, yet we are stuck here - and the mere sound of our arrival could mean death." she takes a sip of her wine.

She was trying to keep up her stone-cold facade, so that her son wouldn't be rattled, but all she wanted to do was cry. Her mind couldn't help but drift off to Alyssa. She must be scared.

Daemon places a tender hand on her shoulder, already aware of the inner workings of her mind. He gives her stare, promising her that everything would be fine in the end. "I have spies in Kingslanding. I'll attempt to have Alyssa back - Aelor, I believe will be safer there."

"We shouldn't involve ourselves in this war, muña. It is between Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon. Let us flee to the Free Cities, take everyone and never return." Daegon suggests.

Daemon glares at his son.

"Dragons do not run with their tails in between their legs. We fight our battles, and Rhaenyra's battle is our own. The same blood flows through our veins." he corrected, wholly understanding of his son's cowardice. "Viserra and Daelon are children, in times of war, horrible things happen to children." Daegon defends.

"But we are here, all of us to protect them. A house united, is a house unbreakable." Saera breathed, and only then did Daegon's eyes softened. "- and when war is over, the dragon feeds."

Aelor's face was soft - almost the same visage as his grandmother. There was a smile on his face, oblivious of the torment that was to ensue, Ser Criston takes a seat beside Alyssa. "He is safe, but not for long." he whispered, so only Alyssa could hear his opinion. "He is guarded by four walls, and a dozen guards. Surely Princess Rhaenyra will not harm us? Not Aelor?" Alyssa frowns, the knight shakes his head. "She may not harm you, but she will harm Prince Aemond's son. She will seek revenge." he scowled.

Alyssa couldn't do anything but blame her husband - her good-mother, and everyone involved in supplanting Princess Rhaenyra. "Then you must make it your personal goal to protect Prince Aelor." she pleaded, staring deep into his honeyed eyes.

"I shall do my best, but it is not a guarantee." Criston bows.

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, staring at the men in front of her. “Mysaria mustn’t know of this,” she asserted - knowing that the whore was on her sister’s side. “- I want you to execute Prince Aelor.” she commanded, dropping a few gold coins on the table.

“It will be done, my lady.” the older man replies with a smirk.

“What’s your name again?” She raised her eyebrows.

“My name’s Blood.”

“And I’m Cheese.”

Saera wasn't one to wait for the proper timing. She had her mind set on one goal, and she'd exert all of her efforts into getting it.

"Lady Mysaria, what are you doing here?" Alyssa frowns, holding Aelor close to her chest once more. "There is a clear passage back to Dragonstone, your mother intends for you back within a fortnight." Mysaria informs, taking a step forward.

"What about Bluefyre? Aemond? Aelor?" Alyssa asks.

"You may take Aelor, but the dragon and your husband must remain." Mysaria made a decision of her own. "I cannot leave without them." Alyssa says clearly, hoping to provide salvation for the ones to be left behind. "You forget that it was your husband who betrayed you first." Mysaria articulated, her voice suddenly becoming cold.

Alyssa's heart breaks, recognizing that the woman wasn't lying. "He murdered a child, your cousin." Mysaria attempts to sway the Princess. "- I have not spoken to him since before that night. I'm sure that if we were to have a conversation, things would be clearer." Alyssa defended, it was her right and oath.

When she vowed to marry the One-Eyed Prince, she also vowed to be understanding, to always present alibis when it came to him, and to always be loyal, even when the circumstance proved to be difficult. "I wish that it was that easy, but we do not have much time. We cannot leave right now, but tomorrow - use the secret passages that your uncle taught you. Meet me in Princess Saera's solars, and we shall leave for Dragonstone."

Princess Alyssa couldn't sleep. Her heart was beating rapidly, threatening to come out of her chest. She was tossing and turning, unable to find even a blink of rest. Today, she was a spoil of war - a prisoner in her own home, but tomorrow, mayhaps, she'll be free.

Why must it all come down to this? A year of marriage with her much beloved husband was turning into another tragic tale. Alyssa wished nothing more than to be free of the narrative, to live somewhere where these - things couldn't come near her family.

An object falls loudly on the floor, Alyssa reaches for the dagger underneath her pillow. "Aemond?" she cleared her throat, "Princess," a gruff voice replies, and another man steps into the light. It was not her husband - it was a different man.

He was broad and tall, he had a stubble on his chin. "Who are you?" she pointed the dagger at him. "I'm Blood, and my brother is Cheese. We were sent here to murder your son." he says casually.

"Not him," she shielded her son away from their view. Aelor, was unfortunate enough to be laying beside her on the bed, instead of his own room with the handmaidens. Blood and Cheese must've known, but who could've sent them?

"A son for a son," Blood grins.

A chill ran down her spine.

Princess Rhaenyra?

"What did she pay you, I shall double it?" Alyssa pleaded, vulnerable in her thin nightgown, her body almost bare to the eyes of the intruders. It made her feel dirty, tainted almost.

"Gold does little to deter us, Alyssa." Blood takes a step forward, only a few inches away from her. "Then you'll have to go through me." Alyssa bravely defends. "That will not be hard."

She stands up from the bed, remembering all her lessons with Prince Daemon. Even when she's standing on the bed, her head barely reaches Blood and Cheese's forehead. He tries to move his hand forward, but Alyssa manages to sever his little finger.

"Cunt," Blood mumbled, anger pumping through his veins. He raises his free hand, slapping Alyssa across the face, sending her on her knees. "You are still a little girl eh'. You can't defeat me." he antagonized, commanding his brother to pull her back.

Cheese carries her with ease, dragging her on the floor. "Please I beg of you, if Prince Daemon or my mother finds out about this - no god shall save you." she cursed at them, fighting through Cheese's malevolent hold. "Take me instead, please!" she screamed, in shock that no one has heard yet.

"Do whatever you want with me, but not my son." she cried.

Cheese chuckles, pressing her back to his chest. "Whoring yourself out to us? Desperate." he teased, and Aelor cries loudly.

Blood carries Aelor by the neck, muffling his cries of agony. "Maybe when we're done with this little runt, we'll fuck a bastard inside of you." he chuckled, opening a window and threatening to let go of Aelor. Tears began to flow harder from her eyes, Valyrian whispers of revenge, until Blood lets go.

And her son falls to his death.

next chapter >>>

taglist: @watercolorskyy @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @sweethoneyblossom1 @thisbihreadstoomuch @plutoscosmoss @immyowndefender @marvelescvpe @batmans-love @luanasrta @tesha-i-guess @valeridarkness @thefallenangel21n @seamonkie

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff #house targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon headcanons #daemon prince #daemonism #hotd daemon

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serendipityandbenevolence · 2 years ago

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I gotta say, when I passed out last night after writing this post, I didn't expect to wake up to people actually liking it. but hey! thanks for the support. As per my little footnote (if you didn't read it then sucks to be you ig) the people who commented got first choice of which characters im going to write. love y'all by the way <3 which means that first up is... Dottore! (as requested by @amber-sekio and @gallantys)

(I am not playing rn when I say that I spent a large amount of time reading Dottore x reader fanfic so I could figure out how the hell to write him and this is probably still ooc but i did my best)

Contains - Yandere behavior (kept to a minimum though) dottore being a charming ray of a human (he mentions enslaving other countries), discussions of blood and injuries

"Dottore?"

The silence from the hallway was almost deafening. The sudden intense quiet was broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire, a welcome reprieve as your words hung in the air. Perhaps it was stupid, to call for a person who may not be there and who, of all the Harbingers, might be the most likely to still attempt to kill you. A foolish whim, but nearly dying does funny things to a person's rational.

Your door slid open silently, revealing the Doctor himself peering in at you. He did not appear to be wearing his mask, but with the low light and strands of blue hair covering his face, you couldn't make out his features well.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Something was wrong. His voice was too soft, his words too gentle, the whole demeanor was wrong. You knew he had segments that acted differently, but you couldn't imagine Dottore ever being that kind sounding. But you were in too deep.

"Can you come in here, please? I need to ask you a question."

A few murmurs struck up behind him, but Dottore simply nodded and stepped into the room, turning his back to you as shut the door.

"You know..." he mused as he clicked the lock shut.

Ah, there it was. With the door closed, his voice changed, with that hint of cruelty and mania that you had come to associate with him lacing his words. His blood red eyes bored into you, a sly smile creeping across his face.

"Oh, what's with the expression? You seem a little scared of me, Divine One. Am I not as nice as you assumed?"

He didn't allow you to answer, pacing closer to where you lay, buried beneath the pile of blankets.

"There's really no need to be scared of me. After all, I was the one who nursed you so lovingly back to health when you were brought here out of the cold. Aren't I so generous?"

"You healed me?"

You didn't bother hiding your concern. You kicked off your pile of blankets and assessed your body, trying to see if any of your organs were missing.

"My my, do you have such little faith in me? I am a doctor after all. One of the best I'll have you know."

He leaned against the wall by your bedside, giving you a rather unnerving grin.

"Well, you have my undivided attention. What was it that you wanted to ask me?"

You were starting to think that it was a very bad idea to ask for Dottore, but you also suspected that saying you wanted to talk to someone else would go over even worse.

"Yes, I just...wanted to know what I missed while I was asleep. You know, with the other nations."

"Ahh, of course! Well, upon some reflection they seem to have come to the conclusion that you are the actual creator and not a 'fake' as they so cruelly labelled you. Needless to say, quite a few letters of apology have been sent begging for your forgiveness for their dreadful ignorance. Including-"

He reached over to you, laying a shockingly gentle hand upon your bandaged side.

"-the one who nearly killed you."

"You know who it is?" you asked in surprise.

"But of course! Simply assessing your wound, I could tell the weapon and the particular style of it, which made it rather easy to cross-referencing that with the time and location that you were attacked and deduce your attacker with little difficulty. "

"Really?"

He scoffed. "No, of course not. They mentioned in their letter that they were the one who harmed you."

Dottore stepped away from you, pacing towards the door as he pulled a crumpled note from his pocket and tossed it onto the end of your bed.

"You should read it sometime, it is truly a delightfully pathetic read. They only made one mistake."

"Mistake?"

He turned to look at you and you saw that all of the cruel humor that had covered his face was gone, replaced with an infinitely scarier coldness.

"They signed their name. So now, I know exactly who will be my next experiment, when we invade the other nations."

There was silence for a moment, before his features softened and he let out a soft laugh.

"You should sleep. It's the best medicine after all. We can discuss this more in the morning."

Dottore went to turn from you once more, but paused as you opened your mouth.

"Dottore, burn the letter. I don't want to read what they have to say."

A wicked grin flashed across his face as he snatched the letter back up and strode towards the fire.

"You know, I think-"

He tossed the letter into the embers and watched as it instantly caught alight.

"-that you and I will get along very, very well."

Dottore pulled the door open and gave you one last comment before leaving, not even turning his head.

"Sweet dreams, Your Grace."

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That took me so long to write guys 😭 but anyway i hope you liked it! like i said earlier, i struggle a bit with dottore because he has all his different segments with different personalities but i think this turned out okay.

Also, the order for the next few harbingers will go as such

Tartaglia- requested by @gallantys and @followingyou247

Pierro - requested by @mistresssasori

Capitano - requested by @moonlite-drabbles @megsthings and @legendarysacrificer-blog (yall really love him clearly)

If you guys want to help me pick the order after that, go ahead in the comments!

also tagging @heizoubeloved in this because you mentioned wanting to see more!

#yandere genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin sagau #dottore x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers

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anxious-witch · 1 year ago

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So a continuation of this soulmate poly! JO au

So! Again, this is not my usual high quality stuff, isn't beta read or edited and I have been feeling kinda eh about writing lately so...yeah. Be warned before going into it. But so many of your wanted some sort of conclusion so I had to give you one. I hope it's at least somewhat satisfying.

This needed a warning for vomitting not the last one my bad, also TW for Bojan's general low self esteem

Bojan wasn't feeling well. And it wasn't only because he was hungover from the whole spiked drink yesterday. No. It was also due to the fact that now they all knew that he was their fifth soulmate.

He woke up surrounded by three of them. Jure was curled around his right side, with Kris' arm thrown over both him and Bojan. Bojan was snuggled in Jan's chest and Jan's hand protectively hovered over his head.

Nace was probably already up. Bojan laid there fir a moment. Soaking in the warmth. For once, his soulmark didn't ache but instead hummed pleasantly.

It felt so natural, it was hard to remember why he was so scared of it.

Then a sudden nausea hit him and he had to practically launch himself from the bed. Jan stirred and sleepily called out to him, but Bojan didn't turn. He ran to the bathroom, just in time to throw up in the toilet.

He wasn't sure how he ended up on his knees and gripping the toilet. He also wasn't sure when Jan joined him by sitting on the floor and rubbing his back.

Only when he stopped throwing up for more than a few seconds did he lean more into the comforting touch.

"Aren't you supposed to be angry at me?" Bojan mumbled tiredly.

"Oh, I am furious," Jan said easily, "I just don't see the point of having this conversation until you feel better."

Bojan made a pityful sound, closing his eyes. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, his soulmark ached. He just wanted to die.

"You might as well. I am feeling miserable anyway. We can go for full physical and emotional destruction."

Jan sighed and gently ran his head through Bojan's hair.

"Kris went to make you tea and Jure to dig out some painkillers. Nace will probably make something to eat when he comes back from his run, if he hasn't already."

Jan scratched his scalp, like he was a dog. It was pleasant though and Bojan couldn't help but let iut a sigh and lean into it.

"I don't deserve you guys."

The fingers in his hair froze. You said something stupid again, Bojan's mind hissed.

"We'll talk about that too."

"I'm sorry."

Jan continued stroking his hair, but didn't reply. Bojan's soulmarked burned like a brand. He hates you, he hates you, he will never forgive you-

Kris arrived at that moment, taking in their state. His eyes softened as he watched them.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit. I don't know if you are asking physically or mentally, but the answer is the same."

Kris crouched down and gently put his hand on Bojan's forehead. His eyes fluttered shut at the gesture.

"You don't have a temperature," he mused, "which means just a bad hangover. You should come back to bed. I bought a bucket if you are sick again. And there is tea and painkillers. Nace is making pancakes too."

Bojan felt a sudden pressure of tears. Why were they all so nice? So considerate? Shouldn't they be yelling and demanding an explanation? He felt like he'd prefer that. It was what he deserved.

"Bojan, hey, what's wrong? Does something hurt?"

Kris gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he realized he was crying. He shook his head and covered him face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Why wre you all being nice? Why aren't you yelling at me? Why-"

"Shhh."

Kris hugged him to his chest and Bojan's body shook im his embrace. He kept a litany of apologies through the sobs.

"Jan, go tell Nace to finish pancakes later. I will get Bojan to the bedroom. I think we all need to talk first."

Jan probably nodded, because Bojan heard him get up and step out of the bathroom. Then Kris gently picked him up. Bojan didn't even complain, simply buried his face in Kris' chest.

He carried him to the bedroom.

"What happened? Is he alright?"

Bojan's heart squeezed at Jure's worried tone, but he didn't feel capable of answering. Which was why he was thankful for Kris.

"I am not sure. He started apologizing and then burst into tears. I think everything is hitting him just now. And you know how the bond can be overwhelming at first."

When he put Bojan on the bed, Jure curled at his back. Bojan reached out with one hand to him.

And Jure took it, interlacing their fingers. His and Kris' presence calmed him down slightly. Enough for him to stop babbling apologies at least, if not stop crying yet.

"Oh, Bojan," he heard Nace say from further away.

Then two more bodies joined the pile. Bojan could recognize each, despite having his face buried in Kris's chest.

That slowly made him calm down enough to stop the tears and carefully pull back from Kris' chest.

Kris didn't let him go far, gripping his waist when he tried to. Which was ridiculous, because they all surrounded him. He cleared his throat, blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Right. Can we just…get this over with, please?”

“Get it over with?” Jan hissed.

Bojan flinched a bit at his tone, ducking down to hide in Kris’ chest again.

“Jan,” Nace chastised him from somewhere behind his back, “Let's try and do this calmly.”

Jure squeezed his hand and then Jan swore, almost as if someone elbowed him.

“Fine.”

“Bojan, could you sit up, please?” Nace asked.

Did he have much of a choice at this point? Bojan sat up, suddenly much more aware of four pairs of eyes watching him.

He stubbornly stared into his lap.

“Tell us what happened,” Jure urged gently.

“I was at the bar, I was flirting with a guy. He drugged my drink.”

Jan sighed loudly, but it was Kris who spoke up.

“That's not what we are asking. We want to know why you don't want us.”

That made him snap his head up, staring at Kris in disbelief. Kris, who was biting his lip and looked incredibly close to tears.

“What? I never said that!”

“You made it quite clear.”

Bojan felt as if he'd been slapped. He could take them being angry, or even saying they don't want him anymore, but he couldn't take them thinking he didn't want them.

“That's not true at all! Of course I want you!”

Kris did not look particularly convinced, hunching in on himself. Bojan met Jan's eyes instead.

“Then why didn't you say anything? Jesus, Bojan Kris knows you for a decade.”

“Because by the time I realized, the two of you were already together! And then I couldn't say anything because I thought that if you had each other, why would you want me?”

Jan took in a sharp breath and Kris paled noticeably, but Bojan wasn't done. He turned his eyes to Jure.

“So I kept silent, until Jure came along. And then he fit right in. Not just in the band, but with the two of you. And I thought, fuck, I'm too late. So I didn't say anything again. By the time Nace came into the picture, I-I had no idea what to do. Besides, we all know I would ruin this.”

Jure crossed the distance between them in a second, practically launching himself towards Bojan and pulling him into a hug.

“Never,” Jure said vehemently.

Bojan felt a sudden wave of love wash over him. It took him a second to realize it wasn't coming from him, but from the Jure's side of the bond.

It was enormous and overwhelming and Bojan was completely unprepared for it. Which made panic seize his chest.

Then, Nace was there, putting a hand on the back of his neck.

“Breathe. I know it's overwhelming at first, but just breathe through it. Jure, back up a bit he isn't used to the bond yet.”

The sensation eased up a bit, even if Jure didn't let go of him. Bojan took in a shaky breath.

“Why do you think you'd ruin it?” Kris asked after a moment.

Feeling their emotions in tandem with their words was new. Even without prying, he could feel hurt and worry from Kris. Bojan realized with a pang that that meant they could feel the turmoil of his emotions, too.

This was exactly what he wanted to spare them from.

“Because of this! I am difficult to deal with. I know all of you know it, because you had to deal with me. But that's different from being in a relationship with me. Kris met like, all of my girlfriends, he can testify.”

Jure's arms tighten against him, paired up with a slight pang of annoyance. Bojan bit his lip to stop himself from apologizing. They should be aware of what they were getting into.

He expected Kris to look angry or maybe defeated, but instead he looked thoughtful.

“From what I remember of that, the biggest issue was you putting us and the band in general before them. Which wouldn't be a problem here, would it?”

Bojan stared. He never thought of it like that.

“That's still not a good idea. I am difficult to deal with. You'll get tired of me.”

Jan snorted and Bojan turned to glare. Jan met his gaze calmly.

“Right. Because before this we never took care of you being sick every two to three weeks? Nace didn't calm you when you got panic attacks? Jure and I don't regularly feed you because you are unable to cook more than two meals? Kris doesn't have your schedule memorized and reminds you of what you need to do?”

Bojan felt as if Jan's gaze was burning through him, right into his soul. He ducked his head. Except, Jan reached out and Jure moved, curling at his left so Jan could tilt Bojan's chin up.

“Look at me.”

So Bojan did, a zing of electricity going down his spine as he did so. Any rational argument he had got thrown outside of the window.

“You borrow our clothes and you cuddle with us and we are all together almost 24/7. Why the fuck would that change if we were in a relationship with you?”

Bojan opened and closed his mouth several times, feeling as if Jan had just knocked out all the cards from his hands. Like all the insecurities that held him back were insignificant in the face of Jan's argument.

His head suddenly started hurting even more and he closed his eyes.

“I don't know.”

“Alright. Postponing the rest of this for later. Bojan, go brush your teeth, we'll bring tea and painkillers in the meantime.”

Leave it to Kris to organize everything in a second.

“Can't I get a coffee?” Bojan asked, peering at him and pointedly avoiding Jan's gaze.

“After we are sure you won't throw up again. Do you need help getting up?”

Jan finally let go of his chin and Bojan tried not to feel disappointed. He never kissed any of them properly, it was always something for the cameras.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss them for real.

That thought scared him enough to jolt him into action and he quickly got up from the bed. Too quickly, since dark spots began to dance in his vision.

Nace swore and reached out to steady him.

“I'll go with him-”

“No,” Jan interrupted, “you go finish those pancakes. I got him.”

Bojan tensed. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jan, because he did. He trusted all of them with his life. The thing was, Jan seemed the most angry out of all of them and he didn't sugarcoat anything. Bojan wasn't sure how being alone with him would go.

No one protested though, Kris simply exchanged a long look with Jan and then nodded.

Bojan wondered if that simply cane with sharing a bond for so long and then he suddenly felt very, very lonely.

So he didn't protest when Jan took Nace's place and led him to the bathroom. He took his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. Jan walked closer and took his own, so they both brushed their teeth and Bojan tried not to think about how domestic that felt.

That distracted him enough for him not to notice that the toothbrush was the exact same one he had at home until after he finished.

“Since when does Nace have everyone's spare toothbrush?”

“Since we all started dating?”

Bojan started at Jan through the mirror. Jan calmly washed his mouth with water.

“I haven't been dating you.”

Jan sighed as he stood upright again and put his toothbrush back where it belonged.

“No. But even before the soulmark, you were always considered welcome. I think…on some level we all knew.”

Bojan swallowed against sudden urge to cry again.

“I should have known. The way you looked when we saw Nace's mark, I-”

“Don't say that. You didn't know because I didn't want you to. It's not your fault.”

Jan gave him a wry smile, shaking his head.

“Isn't it? Maybe if we figured it out sooner, you wouldn't think you were unwanted. For seven years, apparently.”

Jan's emotions were more guarded than Kris’ and yet, Bojan could practically taste the bitterness and hurt pouring from him.

Bojan couldn't help but reach for him, but as soon as he touched his arm, Jan tensed.

“I'm sorry. It-it's not your fault, okay? I promise.”

Jan pursed his lips.

“If you say so.”

He stepped closer then closer again, until their chests were almost touching. Jan didn't stop him, but also didn't make any moves towards him, either.

Bojan cupped his face and pressed his lips to his anyway, trying to pour all his mixed feelings into it. Then Jan moved, pinning him back against the sink. Bojan gasped and Jan took that opportunity to deepen the kiss.

There was so much longing in the kiss, Bojan kept trying to pull him closer, making a protesting noise when Jan pulled back.

“This is a bad idea. We need to talk this through first.”

“Oh.”

Jan was probably right. It was not a good idea, especially with the mess of emotions Bojan was feeling. Still, it was difficult not to feel a pang of disappointment. He felt…rejected.

He nodded and hung his head low.

“Fuck. Bojan that isn't-Hey.”

Jan lifted his chin once more and Bojan shivered. Something about the gesture made Bojan feel very small in comparison.

“I am not rejecting you. This is just because I don't want to take this too far before you feel secure in the bond, okay?”

Bojan swallowed and watched and Jan's eyes traced the movement.

“Okay.”

Jan took in a deep breath and then took a step back. Then he extended his hand out to Bojan.

“Com'on now. The others are waiting.”

Then he was tugged back into the bedroom. Jure and Kris were sitting on the bed and talking quietly, while Nace still didn't return. They went quiet once they entered and Bojan tried not to fidget.

“Don't stop on my account,” he mumbled, trying to get under the covers.

Perhaps he could suffocate himself under the blankets.

“Wait! The painkillers!”

Bojan stopped halfway, and Kris handed his the painkillers and the water. He tried not to make a face at being treated like a child. Firstly Jan with pulling back and now the rest of them eith treating him like he was fragile. They cared and objectively, he was aware he scared them last night.

So he took them and handed the glass back to Kris. Then he got under the covers and buried his face into a pillow.

“Why is he sulking?” Kris asked, directing the question at Jan.

“He kissed me and I said I don't want things to escalate until he feels comfortable with the bond.”

“He wasn't too happy about that, huh?”

Bojan was about to snap at them for talking like he wasn't there, but then another person shuffled under the covers and pulled him closer. Jure.

Jure's emotions were always on the surface and Bojan could feel them much easier than Jan's. There was a sense of deep contentment that he didn't expect.

Jure pressed a kiss into his hair and Bojan felt his annoyance begin to dissipate. Kris shuffled closer and began petting his hair and-yeah, okay, he could get used to that.

He was starting to drift when Nace came back, announcing that the pancakes were done. Bojan groggily got up, rubbing at his eyes.

“You can eat later if you are tired,” Nace said with such a soft look, Bojan felt the need to squirm.

“But I want pancakes,” he protested.

Jan laughed.

“Just let him eat. Maybe that'll wake him up.”

Bojan glared.

“Maybe now I won't go exactly because of that.”

Jan smirked.

“Well good thing we can all carry you then, no?”

“No-”

Nace crossed the room in a few steps and picked him up as if he weighed nothing. Bojan squealed. He knew Nace could pick him up, but actually being picked up was quite different.

He wrapped his arms around Nace's neck, even if he was pretty sure Nace wouldn't drop him.

“Rude,” he mumbled in his neck.

He was lulled once again into a feeling of contentment that simply radiated from the bond. Was it supposed to feel like that? Did it always feel like that for them?

Nace gently dropped him in a chair at the dining table. Bojan absent mindedly reached for the pancakes while the others all took their seats.

“Does it always feel like that? The bond, I mean.”

Kris cocked his head.

“How does it feel?”

“Content. Calming. Like…things clicked in place.”

Kris’ gaze softened.

“Not quite. There was always something missing. Like the connection flowed between the four of us and then it just…hit a wall.”

“Oh.”

Bojan fidgeted with his knife before anxiously taking the jam and smearing it over the pancake. He wasn't sure what to say.

“We have been waiting for you,” Nace added softly.

And this, this was exactly what Bojan wanted to avoid. He covered his face, willing himself not to cry again.

“This is why I didn't say anything. I don't-I can't complete you.”

“You already do.”

He began shaking his head, but then Kris was gently pulling his hands away from his face.

“We already acted like you are a part of this relationship, excluding kissing and sex. You already cuddle and steal all of our clothes. You hate being alone so you are in one of our apartments half the time. You already act like you are our boyfriend, this is just a confirmation you belong with us.”

Bojan felt speechless again. So he did one thing he could think about at that moment. He kissed him.

This kiss was much softer than the one he shared with Jan. Kris kissed almost hesitantly, as if not believing he was real. When Bojan tried to press harder, someone cleared their throat and Kris pulled away.

Of course it was Jan.

“Still not a great idea Bojči,” he reminded him.

Bojan stared at Kris, who was still kneeling by his chair, looking a bit dazed.

“Maybe not such a bad idea, if it'll help convince him,” Nace said, shrugging, “But we should wait until after breakfast.”

Bojan's brain came to a screeching halt.

“C-convince me?”

Jure sighed.

“That we want you. Obviously.”

Bojan swallowed. Don't think about it. But Kris was already kneeling and-

“Kris, go sit in your chair before Bojan has another crisis. And let's just finish eating first, yeah? Then we can discuss other things.”

He felt his cheeks heat at Jan's words and Jure chuckled. Kris simply rolled his eyes and went to take his seat.

They all began to eat and Bojan just tried to take everything in as they fell into easy conversation like nothing had happened.

His world tilted on its axis and…kept spinning, almost exactly the same as it had before. And surely, this would change things. Perhaps even his fears would be confirmed with time.

But for now, Bojan sat with four of his soulmates that he loved more than anyone else and simply let himself breathe.

Bojan was born with four stripes on his stomach. Yellow, red, purple and blue. And for the first time, his pink joined into the rainbow it created.

#my writing #poly! jo #joker out #I am too lazy to tag them all sorry it's like 12:20 am lmao

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 1 year ago

Note

Prompt 10 with either Fives or a clone of your choice from @the-bad-batch-baroness list of prompts? 👉👈

The Long Way Home [Fives x Reader]

Prompt ten: "Did you feel that?" "Feel what?" "It's starting to rain."

List of all prompts found here [X]. Prompt will be highlighted in blue.

Warnings and Information: Wanting a taste of domesticity the moment he gets shore leave, Fives wants to spend the day with you doing general couple-ly things. A little shopping at the early winter markets of Coruscant, and utilizing every excuse to shower you in all the compliments he can to make up for lost time. When the weather has other ideas regarding your shared plans for the day, Fives is determined to make the best of a less than ideal situation.

This is a general fluff + relationship fic at its core; friendly for all ages this go-round. Reader written with fem!reader in mind, not described save for minor notes about clothing and briefly implied (but not specified) height difference. Fives being a sweetheart. Sprinkling of Mando’a as a treat. As an additional treat, Order 66? Don't know her; Palpatine died and the Republic won the war. 🩷 2nd person POV.

Word-count: 5,912

There's a knock at the front door of your residence, one you've been eagerly expecting most of the morning. You're quick to reach the door, keying him in so he can step inside where it's warm. He's late; which he had warned you about well in advance. And the first thing he offers before his usual hellos is an apology.

A well-practiced one at that, from the warm cadence of his voice, brimming with just the right amount of shame.

“I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, mesh'la, I-”

You tug him close with the collar of his civilian wear (a thick, handmade sweater given to him by Hardcase who had recently taken up knitting since breaking one of his legs - so you're certain to handle it delicately) in a very practiced motion. As expected, it shuts him up just long enough to get a word in while he puts himself nose to nose with you. Practically close enough to taste the words on the others’ lips. “Hey. It's okay Fives. I understand the captain probably needed your help with something, or, you volunteered yourself to help. Again.” Your partner with his well-groomed goatee has a penchant for stepping up and lending a hand to a brother in need, brave and dependable to the end.

Full lips dart apart, the tender flesh brushing over your own lips being this close is nigh impossible to avoid. “Are you teasing or expecting an answer?” Fives asks, hinting to his building confusion below a toothy grin. “Makin’ it hard to tell what you want when I can’t see all of your pretty face.”

That's fair of him to say, you should suppose. “Mostly teasing,” you promise him, at last permitting yourselves to kiss one another as part of the process - brief, chaste, sweet. “You know I wouldn't press you for details if it was classified ARC business.” You never have. Never will until you know the mission has been completed at least; because while you often burn with questions (as is only natural and expected in what was once a friendship, now a partnership) pertaining to his duties and practiced protocols within the GAR, you take the mantra “loose lips sink starships” very close to heart.

Should you ever say something that could jeopardize the safety of the one you love, you’d never forgive yourself.

“No, not ARC business,” Fives offers at last, “I, uh… I told you I was gonna be running late because some of my brothers asked for my help with something kinda last minute.” The palm of his left hand strokes the back of his neck in a self-soothing fashion, a tell of either embarrassment or shame. “I couldn’t bring myself to say no…”

“Young brothers?”

Fives only answers with a nod and an appeasing smile, knowing where this is going.

“Star-struck little brothers wanting to ask what’s it like being an ARC trooper, and how they can train to be just like you?” you muse, exaggerating your train of thought with a couple of taps against your chin with the finger of your non-dominant hand, the other arm wrapped across your body.

It does not slip your notice how his tanned face begins to look a little flushed when you playfully bat your eyes at him for good measure, knowing what that kind of praise does to him combined with the light teasing.

“More or less…”

You giggle, not at him or at his expense, but more the mental image than anything. You can picture Fives, being as eager as he was to come see you now that he had shore leave, getting roped into regaling doe-eyed Clones with lengthy recountings of his service since becoming an ARC. All he wanted to do was peruse the early winter markets with you, the entire idea his from the start; and there he was, at least an hour of his precious free time used up already. All because he was too much of a selfless and wholeheartedly good person for his own good, on occasion.

“I’m sure they appreciated you and Echo doing that.” Fives doesn’t have to mention his surviving squadmate, Echo, to know that the other half of the nicknamed Domino Twins had sacrificed his own time to answer a few (or a hundred, more rather) burning questions. “I’m sure the captain did, too.”

The humble grin is confirmation enough for you. You can continue to tease him later, however - you’re both wasting daylight the longer the two of you choose to linger in your comfortable Coruscanti apartment rather than getting the rest of your things ready. Light coats or other appropriate outerwear still needs to be gathered, the credits you’ve been setting aside for this occasion needs to come out of hiding, and he still needs to collect the rest of his civilian-wear he planned on wearing. There’s only so much space within trooper accommodations for everything he’s accumulated since the start of your relationship. Thick-knit hats, fleece-lined gloves, a scarf in 501st blue, things of that nature.

And boots. It’d probably be wise to grab a pair of all-weather boots rather than tromp the markets in your slipper-socks, no matter how tempting the smooth streets would prove.

Fives is ready far sooner than you, owing to how little he needed to add or change into to be more weather-ready, but he waits patiently. No teasing remarks for how long it takes you to disentangle a simple scarf from all the others, or the childlike nature of repeating the phrase that helped you remember how to tie your shoes even to this day, or any of the other silly little habits you comfortably show in front of him. There’s only a warm, endeared smile to be seen. He’s just happy to be here, to be in your presence after so long, and see all these little puzzle pieces into why he loves you as though for the first time, every time.

“What are you staring at?” you ask with a bemused laugh bubbling up from your throat. Time to time, you struggle to figure your partner out, wondering what can be chalked up to his training and what can be passed off as quirks unique to him. You’ve gotten better with time and practice, being able to discern these instances. “What’s on that beautiful mind of yours, Fives?”

“Nothing more than perhaps the most beautiful person in all the galaxy, cyare.” Fives replies in earnest, dazzling you with one of those smiles that had charmed you since the very beginning. “And how I get to spend most of my first day of shore leave with that person, all to myself.”

Torn between scoffing and brushing him off with oh surely you can’t mean the most beautiful person thing and trying to shield your flushing face from view, so certain your cheeks must be scarlet red with all the flattery, you busy yourself with ensuring your door is locked and secure against unwelcome visitors. There’s been a minor rash of break-ins lately, and you know that a simple door lock won’t do anything to deter the truly determined - only the honest - it always seems to get a bit worse just before large deployments get shore leave… funny how that goes.

At least you get a little help when it can be spared by those serving with the Corrie Guard, given your proximity to the senate buildings here. There was no small amount of surprise the day Commander Fox himself turned up at your doorstep to follow-up with a reported break-in for the unit above your own. He could claim he was there just to ask if you happened to notice anything, and nothing more than that, but you knew better. Working in loose relation to the complex goings-on with the Galactic Senate and the red-clad commander turning up only two hours after mentioning the incident to Fives was too big a coincidence to ignore. (You can only wonder what strings in the line of communication your smarty-pants of a boyfriend had to pull in order to get in touch with Commander Fox, directly.)

A smarty-pants that you had all kinds of preconceived plans to spend the rest of the day with, all to yourself.

The ambling walk to the marketplace offers the pair of you plenty of time to catch up since you last spoke on the comms just over two weeks ago; it was a Zhellday if you're not mistaken.

You don't really bring up your work if you can help it; the problems seem so trivial when you compare them to the frustrations of stamping out those stubborn pockets of Separatist resistance Fives and all his brothers have been dealing with since winning the war just a year ago. A malfunctioning caf-machine spraying your last clean work uniform seems like nothing compared to a desperate firefight against the horrifying, mechanical amalgamations the standard CIS battle droids have become as less and less functional droids become available.

You have to ask Fives to be sure you heard him right after he says it. “Hold on: it had eight arms?”

“Some Separatist-sympathizer - one who's, admittedly, crafty but incredibly elusive - has been a real pain in our shebs for a while now. ‘Case was so badly spooked by the crazy-looking clanker that he fell over backwards on a crate full of smuggled produce.” Fives explains, struggling not to laugh when explaining of all possible ways Hardcase recently broke his leg, it was falling over backwards on a box of illegal fruit and veg.

“He’s okay, right?” you prod, “What'd Kix have to say about the break?”

It's touching to Fives when you show your concern for his brothers, knowing you have genuine interest in their well-being. You always have. When you heard that the production of the cloning facilities were coming to an end on Kamino thanks to Chancellor Organa’s new bill, your immediate thought had been for the young cadets who had not yet finished training.

What's going to happen to those little brothers, Fives? All the Clones still developing in the tubes and the nurseries and-

Mesh'la, with any luck, they'll become the envy of the entire GAR. They'll never have to taste war like we have if we squash out the remaining Separatists sooner than later.

Fives gives the cuff to one of the sweater sleeves an experimental tug with a beaming smile. “Kix said the worst of it will be the bed rest for Hardcase. At least he's found a way to keep his hands busy between the physical therapy he has to do, thanks to Dogma.”

“Aww. That was kind of him.” you croon. He mirrors the relieved smile, sharing in your relief that his brother's injury was not as bad as you feared. He begins fishing through one of his pockets for something, saying he has a picture to show you.

“Hardcase made Dogma the ugliest possible blanket using yarn we had scrounged up for him as a way of saying thanks. Thing's got all sorts of colors from baby pink, to brick red, even a smidge of neon yellow somewhere in there.”

Without question, the immaculate bunk within the frame can be none other than Dogma's. Laid out in a uniform manner is a tidily-knit but disorganized rainbow of yarn in every shade of blue and a handful of other colors. (Sure enough, you can pick out the baby pink, the brick red, and the neon yellow Fives previously mentioned.) Honestly, you think it looks ugly only because there's no reason or order to any of the colors. A crisp, sky blue next to the imagined dryness of such a dusty shade of red is a bit jarring, visually.

‘Case was likely working with the colors of yarn as he received them, if his brothers were coming up with loose odds and ends as Fives claims they did.

You voice the question that crosses your mind the more you look at the image in your boyfriend's hand, “Does Dogma actually use the blanket, or is it just for show until it's time to sleep?”

“Wondered that myself.” Fives admits to you with a cheeky wink between thumbing over to the next picture, a still of Dogma tucked under both the GAR-issued blanket and Hardcase’s, “It was so worth pretending to be asleep for forty-five minutes just to get Dogma to go to bed.” Dogma's always been the last to fall asleep within shared accommodations, so for the ARC trooper you're arm-in-arm with to have pulled the oldest trick in the book in order to get to the bottom of a low-stakes mystery, you can only imagine how disciplined you'd have to be to lay so still and silent for that long.

“Why not just ask him in the morning?” you laugh, realizing how simple it would be to do just that rather than go through such efforts to trick someone into going to bed. Fives shrugs noncommittally in response before tucking his personal device away again, now that you're both within earshot of the outdoor winter market.

It's bustling with activity, even for Coruscant. The pressing crowds and all-encompassing noise will make it difficult to carry on catching up in a meaningful manner for much longer.

“Dogma's not much of a talker in the mornings, sweetheart.” Fives says with a chuckle. “Though to be fair, not a lot of us are either.”

Strange… they've always seemed so… talkative and alert whenever you've had early morning communications with Fives. Those bleary-eyed video calls spent simply staring at the other, not too sure what to talk about in particular. The stolen minutes between breakfast in the mess hall and the barracks. (The lunch breaks where you've snuck off somewhere secret and pretended you're sharing the same ration, they've been talkative for certain!) Have you just done a poor job of noticing until now? Or are they better at masking how awake they truly are than you expect? But okay, fair enough.

Now that you were here at the market, you’d be more than a little preoccupied to be thinking about it much longer, with Fives tucking his fingers between yours to prevent both of you from getting separated from the other. It’s rather busy; it must be the morning rush before everyone has to reluctantly shuffle off to work. And you should probably expect to have more than a few elbows - or entirely unaware people - knock into you and Fives while you’re here.

What catches Fives’ eye first is a female Besalisk vendor with armfuls of rain repellers for sale (one for five credits, or two for ten) with a business partner checking news sources for reports on the weather nearby.

“Ah… knew there was something I forgot to check before getting to your apartment.” He says, quickly casting his eyes skyward. Certainly enough, there are rain clouds gradually building overhead. Strange. While it is technically early winter, this time of year typically has a weird, transitional period regarding the weather. Not quite past the sometimes cold and drizzly days of autumn, but still too early to dust off your proper snow coats from where they've been hiding in the back of your closet.

“Let’s get one to be safe.” you suggest with a reassuring squeeze of your hand in his. If you buy one of the repellers and end up never using the thing, then you were over-prepared with little consequence. Having one more thing to carry wouldn’t be that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, surely. “Hi,” you address the vendor cheerfully, “a repeller for five credits, right?”

“That’s right! Pick whichever one you’d like, dears.” she tells you with a kind wink, thrusting the set of arms bearing all of the rain repellers a little further for your inspection.

Fives wastes little time in selecting a repeller with a sleek and subtle design, something he thinks you’d like, perhaps. He’s incredibly thoughtful in that and many other ways. It’s one of the many parts of him that you ache for in his absence, the fondness for his charisma and slight cheek only deepening when he’s away, aiding in the peacekeeping efforts now that the galaxy is largely free of the Separatists. (How strange that things fell apart so suddenly for them, following shortly after the rather untimely and unexplained death of Sheev Palpatine (that, surely, can’t be related, right?) just last year.) You know he’s not giving up the fight just because they say the Seppies have surrendered, not when there’s still work to be done to make the galaxy safer for everyone.

Fives isn’t still fighting the good fight just for his brothers, but for you too. Every last far-flung outpost they capture, each bubble of resistance they burst, it’s always the same message that finds its way to you, no matter the time and no matter the distance.

For the Republic. For my brothers. For my Kar’ta. Talk to you soon, sweet.

Both of you thank the vendor, and set off on your way, imagining what curiosities and delights could be found by the two of you together on this cold Coruscanti morning here in the intergalactic market. With a cultural hotbed like this - a diverse focal point in the heart of the galaxy with a population of roughly two trillion that is Coruscant - there’s no telling what you and Fives will see, from the familiar to the fascinating.

In a dramatic, sweeping gesture Fives invites you to lead the way into the heart of the market with a dizzying grin, promising to follow wherever you roam.

“After you, angel.”

You’ll only be there for an hour before the increasingly-inclement weather decides to become a little more concerning. Those cotton-soft clouds, planted in the lofty airspace high over even the tallest sentient lifeforms’ head(s), are beginning to appear denser and darker than they were when you set off this morning. Weather reports you peek at while Fives discusses something with a Tatoonine-born vendor suggests you might have another hour before proper rainfall.

“You say the yarn’s a bantha-blend, right?” Fives clarifies, gingerly juggling a few twisted hanks of it in his hands to get a feel for the softness. “Would it work for projects meant for… say, kids?” The vendor’s eyes flick to you, just for a second, and you can imagine what she’s thinking. Your partner catches that too, so Fives clarifies further. “Someone I know had twins last year. Tryin’ to, uh, contribute to a special present for the little ones. Brother of mine got some good yarn from Naboo to represent the mother. I was asked to find something to represent their father while I was here, if I could.”

As could be expected, the yarn-seller is now tittering excitedly about how sweet it is that he and this unspecified brother (who’s definitely either Jesse or Kix) are looking to put together something for this ‘someone they know’ who had twins. Sweet little twins who you’ve happened to see crawling around the floors of the senate building out of the corner of your eye, as a matter of fact. But you’ve been aware of the “open secret” nature of the Skywalker-Amidala twins for some time now, and know you’re supposed to treat it like it’s more of a classified matter than it is in reality.

Yeah, how strange that Senator Amidala and General Skywalker spend a lot of time together. Or that little Luke and Leia show up in the Jedi Temple on occasion, just as a last minute “favor” to the Senator - of course!

“Yes, the yarn should be appropriate for the little ones!” the vendor promises, exchanging the appropriate credits as change from what Fives hands her as payment before gingerly bagging the hanks of bantha-yarn for him. “You’ll find a card with the best care instructions with your purchase inside the bag. Thank you for your business, folks.”

When you've stepped beyond the earshot of the yarn-seller, now again arm-in-arm with Fives as you meander the little sector that seems to be dedicated to all things Tatooine, you feel it's safe to tease.

“You're getting better at lying, Fives.”

“Mesh'la-” Fives warns you.

“Okay, okay… Stretching the truth, if that's what you insist on calling it, mister ARC trooper.” you add.

Fives doubles down on the insistent, close to disapproving tone. “Mesh'la… I've told you several times now, you know why we treat it like a secret.”

“I know, Fives, I was only teasing.” you promise, offering an apologetic expression.

You understand the faux secrecy is largely in relation to the response of some members of the Jedi Council when the inevitable truth about Senator Amidala and not just one child, but two, came to light. There's been a great deal of speculation from the 501st Legion of Anakin Skywalker’s expulsion from the Order; speculation that has them worried. Selfless to the end, the Clones are just as concerned for the fate of their General as they are about their own.

You change the subject as you pass a stall brimming with food-based goods from the Outer Rim planet, a warm, spicy odor cutting through the ambient smell of chilled steel and duracrete surfaces. Looks to be samples of an alteration to bantha steak soup. Something being offered to the market-goers to warm them up as the temperatures fall day by day, or hour by hour.

“Remind me: ever tried any food from Tatooine?”

“Some of it's decent.” Fives admits with a chuckle. “Or, it will at least beat having rations for every meal. But nothing beats your cooking, cyare.”

Your cooking, among many things, is what Fives has been looking forward to most about today, about shore leave. A chance to come home, a chance to catch one another up on the things they’ve missed (things too important or lengthy to say over comms), and a chance for splitting a hearty meal practically invented for sharing with the ones who mean the most to us. Same thing with coming to the market. Fives didn’t want to do a little shopping just to see what was new on Coruscant; he wanted to spend a little time with you away from home first, maybe find something special to buy to mark the occasion.

To be home after so long is a very special thing indeed.

“Hope you’re in the mood for soup tonight.” It’s a little simple, you tell him, but no less comforting or flavorful. “Didn’t know how tired you’d be, when you came home this time.”

“You spoil me.” Fives murmurs lovingly, craning his neck for the moment to plant a sweet, gentle kiss in the crown of your hair and against your temple. His full lips are warm, and where you’ve been kissed seems to glow with that warmth compared to the surrounding chill. “What’d I do to deserve you, kar’ta?”

There’s that word again. Pronounced KARH-ta, as he’s taught you.

It's Mando’a, meaning heart.

“Well, you kept the galaxy safe,” you answer with a sweet smile, “I think that’s a pretty deserving reason, don’t you?”

The warm, heartened smile is all you have to see to know he feels the same way. He helped keep the galaxy safe, yes; of course he should deserve to live a good life with everything said and done. With every bill and law passed towards the betterment of life for Clones after the war, it tastes like the sweetest victory, over and over again. If there was anyone more deserving of thanks, it was the mighty multitude of men who came from Kamino.

As you’re turning the corner of a larger booth within the sprawling outdoor market, Fives mentions that somewhere down the lane he can hear a live performer playing covers of popular songs on what must be a hallikset.

“Must be another one of your little soldier tricks,” you tell him with an impressed shake of your head, “I can’t hear any of that. What’s a hell- hall-? Wait, what did you call it?” How did he pronounce that so easily?

You’re not surprised with many a Clones’ proclivity to be little cultural sponges that Fives seems to have the answer ready for you before you can pull something out of your pocket to search up the instrument he mentioned for yourself. “Halliksets are seven-stringed instruments popular on Naboo. Here, let’s get a little closer.” Fives offers, leading the way ahead to where he hears the music coming from. He wants you to be able to hear it better, to experience it for yourself. Appreciate it fully.

You momentarily pity the player’s poor fingers once you get closer, noting how red with cold they are. Like you, the hallikset’s owner is wrapped in layers between a thick jacket, a gray hood and a long scarf wrapped around their neck. But with the beautiful way they play, plucking and strumming each perfectly tuned string, you wonder if they don't notice, or care. Perhaps the lack of gloves to keep their hands safely warded against the cold is worth it to them for the amount of credits they're pulling in. There's several fistfuls at least, all piled up in the open instrument case.

“Wow… I don't think I've ever seen one before, but it's beautiful; it's a beautiful instrument.” you offer your observation to Fives after spending a few minutes to simply stand and listen to the performer. Buskers, you believe they're called, playing for voluntary donations in public settings.

The busker offers an appreciative grin, playing on smoothly without pausing the performance for even a moment as they bob their head in thanks for your compliment.

“Certainly is, mesh'la.” Fives agrees. He dips a hand into one of his pockets, and adds a couple of credits to the pile in the instrument case. As a way of thanks, the song that was currently being played is masterfully morphed into one of the more familiar military anthems of the Republic, just for a moment.

The performer, a young-looking Twi'lek, has of course recognized that Fives is a Clone, and is hoping to acknowledge what the Republic has done for Ryloth in some small way by playing something a soldier would recognize. Fives is equal parts flattered and amused, even if he himself may never have gone to Ryloth, that he's being thanked and acknowledged like this.

“Heh. You're welcome, kid.”

Putting his free arm around you as you decide to listen to the hallikset a little longer, you and Fives listen to the best recognized music forms of Ryloth start up from the instrument as further homage. You lay your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, leaning into his side a little deeper with a placid smile, drinking in this moment.

Close to an hour later, when more yarn for Hardcase, a few decorative knick knacks for your apartment, and some novelty sweets have ended up among your purchases, someone’s stomach rumbles in complaint shortly before the time you would typically consider having lunch. Luckily Echo has offered to help you locate something by sending you a file to a map of the market with all consumables stalls highlighted and labeled after checking in on how things are going for you and Fives.

While Fives quickly speaks with his brother and squadmate, you check the weather. Steadily, it’s only gotten colder, and in efforts to keep you warmer, Fives has sweetly given up his thick-knit hat for the time being until you come across another stall that offers cold-weather wear. There, he’ll find another hat for himself, suggesting you keep his. The fluffy curls of his clone-standard crew cut have been flattened a bit by the hat, amusingly. As a sweet gesture, you try to fix up his hair for him while listening to what Echo has to say.

Force willing, as it’s only becoming more and more likely that it'll rain, that will be after you grab a quick bite to eat.

(Pantoran food sounds good right about now.)

“Me? Oh, all was quiet on the homefront - busy playing a strategy game against Rex. Until we got ambushed by a couple of giggling womp rats.”

Fives grins like a nexu. “Brothers’ kids or the General’s?”

“Tup’s little boys,” Echo answers jovially between peals of bubbling laughter in the background, “things are getting a bit rowdy here, so you two better go. Enjoy your lunch and the rest of the market; I’ll tell everyone you both said hi.”

“Thanks Echo.”

“We’ll talk later, Echo.” you promise. “Also, I’m keeping your brother all to myself tonight.” Echo’s laugh promises that’s fine by him. He trusts you’ll take good care of Fives, like he takes good care of you in turn. He’ll pass along the information that everyone will see Fives again the following morning. The Clone with the Aurebesh ‘5’ permanently inked on his right temple can only offer an eager smile.

A homemade meal and the promise of staying the night when it wasn’t previously discussed? What better way to end a day than that? Fives walks with a spirited spring in his step, just short of tugging you along after him at first before you match his pace and revel in that excitement together.

Excitement that quickly turns to surprise with the first of the rain starting to fall over the market. There’s a particularly heavy raindrop that lands with an audible spatter on Fives’ left shoulder. He chuckles, the sound somewhere between an amused ‘of course…’ and a nervous ‘uh-oh’. He’s patting down his deep pockets for wherever he’s stashed the rain repeller purchased earlier, since it could very well start raining steadily by the time you reach one of the food stalls that peddles any Pantoran cuisine.

“Did you feel that?” he asks, eyes flicking skyward between some of the many imposing, glinting skyscrapers that make up the surface of the ecumenopolis. It’s a small relief that you’re not quite out in the open, like you would be if the market had taken place in a location like Monument Plaza, at the least. If the rain got intense, fast, Fives could easily squeeze the pair of you into a dry alcove somewhere in the absence of the repeller now in his hands.

“Hm? Feel what?” you wonder just before you feel another droplet glance off your own coat. “Oh.”

So much for getting lunch…

“It’s starting to rain.” the two of you say at once. And while it’s not quite sleet, it certainly feels close to it every time the stray droplet finds a patch of exposed skin. The idle prattle of buyers and sellers shifts in tone; a few surprised shouts here and there while vendors urgently cover their wares, and a few shoppers brushing past panickedly exclaim that they’re faced with taking the long way home because of street-closures tied to the event-space.

Thankfully that won’t be the case for you and Fives with the direction you came from your apartment, so long as the dispersing crowds allow.

Opening the repeller, Fivers now pulls you closer, trying to fit it over both of you best he can. “Here, mesh’la. Wouldn’t want you to get cold and wet… That wouldn’t be a very pleasant combination, now would it?”

“No,” you agree with a little wag of your head, “buuuut, heading back to my apartment and calling in an order for delivery sure does.”

Fives brings up an excellent suggestion while you busy yourself with making sure all your purchases are safely in your arms before the pair of you about-face and make for home. “With a movie to watch, too, right?” Oh Maker, there are so many films you could choose from to watch; there’s always something new that you learn your beloved hasn’t seen, being so wrapped up in the pan-galactic war and its aftermath. Even films you don’t particularly care for become tolerable when you’re snuggled on some comfortable two-seater together, your head planted against his chest as he runs his hands through your hair in idle fashion.

You’re wholeheartedly in support, already impatient to burrow into that large, fluffy blanket with him.

Cupping his face in one hand, you kiss his cheek best you can as you walk, copying his deliberate stride. “That sounds like a great idea, Fives.” It’s kind of a shame that the weather put a bit of a damper on how long you had in mind about spending at the market, you add with a soft sigh.

He smiles, encouraging you not to let it get you down. “Not gonna let a little rain ruin my first day of shore leave, so long as I get to spend it with you, ner kar’ta.” Fives promises, being his sweet, joking self by downplaying the amount of rain. It’s gotten past ‘just a little rain’ at this point in time, with puddles forming atop the duracrete surfaces, some with multi-color veneers to them where the oils previously soaked into the street float to the top.

As the freezing rain builds in strength, it patters and trickles off the rain repeller in thick rivulets while Fives holds it over each of your heads - it’s kind of a tight fit underneath, but neither mind. Making sure both of you and your purchases remain relatively dry means it’s a slow, steady march back home. It’s probably taking you twice as long to get back home than it was to get there. You could be taking some long, convoluted path, and you wouldn’t mind a bit with the way Fives has one of his arms so lovingly, kindly wrapped around the small of your back, both to hold you close, and to make sure you hear him when he talks.

“I’ve got a few stories to tell from this last deployment, besides ‘Case breaking his leg.” he starts, a note of mirth in his tone. “But there was one thing I kept thinking about, more than anything.” Fives adds, the slow cadence suggesting this is important.

Before you permit your mind to race with the possibilities, the many guesses you have, you bob your head, encouraging him to go on.

“I’m listening.”

He wastes no time, sure of his words, but maybe not how to say them. “I wanted to ask if maybe now’s a good time to… Y’know. We might start thinking about a couple of things, now that the war’s over, and things are getting safer…?” You could practically swoon, knowing what he’s trying to tell you. What he’s thought about while he’s been deployed with those who’ve chosen to remain in service to the GAR for just a little longer, aiming to finish the job they’d been made for.

For the Republic. For his brothers.

For you, his heart.

How would you feel about spending the rest of our lives together, cyare?

“Sounds like a good conversation to have over dinner.” is all you’ll suggest for the time being, bringing his face close once more for another caste kiss with the door of your apartment in sight.

If you’d known he’d had this on his mind just a little sooner, or there was no premature rainfall to dampen your plans, maybe you would have suggested taking the long way home after all, just for the fun of it.

Taglist: @msmeredithrose Taglist form can be found here if you would like to make sure you don't miss a fic in the future. Thank you for your patience, and thanks for reading and requesting. 🩷

[Masterlist] [TCW Masterlist] [Requests: CLOSED]

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jasminerva · 1 day ago

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Jasminerva's Updates

Happy New Year everybuddy~!

Just to post a quick update (in case anyone was wondering)!

I'm alive! I've been busy with life, priorities, and "me time", but I am of the living!

I did manage to find time to watch the first two eps of SakaDays - and boy was it ever fun!!! A rushed rush, if you will. Sad we won't get to see Officer Nakase. I hope we get to see Sakamoto fight tooth and nail for Hana-chan's backpack though!!!

Been having trouble with cloud8 motivation! Writing in general, really! The muse, it escapes me, but I won't force it lol. Can't get nothing done if I force myself.

But otherwise on the plate:

cloud8 chapter 5

Gaku NSFW request (just need to make a satisfactory ending)

I have several asks I need to answer - my sincerest apologies for the delay!!! I'll get 'em out soon~ I hope 🙏 wish me luck! orz

A Shinful surprise ;3c

I'm planning on publishing my old stuff on AO3. Thankfully I hoard keep meticulous records. The Lunaescence migration to AO3 will only have post-2015 stuff, and all my stuff is pre-2015 so I may as well! They're all unfinished lmaooo but I figured I'd share. I do want to finish up a couple old projects (both in memoriam my late Tumblr best friend @mochisato).

Hoping 2025 is another fruitful year for me and to all y'all~! Whether it's with your studies or your professional and/or personal goals, I wish you all the love and all the best~!

I would like to write more this year but I'm realistic and happy enough to write what I can, when I can~! (Comments may help lol but I can't force you.)

Womanifest it~! 💅✨

Personal updates under the cut (don't wanna bore you~ but I wanted to share in case you were interested in my excuses for being busy / interested in me tootin' my own horn - gotta share the wins and positive vibes 💪 #empowered women empower women)!

Looking back on 2024

✧ I wrote 21k words in published AO3 SakaDays fanfiction. A few more thousands I'm sure if you include all the Tumblr-only stuff. It's not much, but it's honest work! Considering I just came back to writing after 8 years in July 2024, I'd say I did purdy darn good!

✧ My LinkedIn Rewind (with some deets omitted):

✧ Last year, I did a huge canyon swing by myself! Maybe this year I'll bungee jump or sky dive. Or both.

✧ Was part of several peace forums for Palestine, Sudan, and more. Still shaking my head at the yt people at the table. It's like talking to Trump's nonexistent wall.

✧ I also represented Canada at an international UN conference in New York. Same issues where I'm shaking my head so hard. At least I met some like-frustrated people.

✧ Did 3 talks (2 compensated, 1 global, 1 national). Looking forward to doing more this year!

✧ Took on a new mentee - another woman of colour with huge aspirations!!!

2025 so far

✧ My first policy advocacy letter was selected for International Development Week! I got paid AND they'll publicize it for all to see!!! Hopefully the dang government not only sees it but listens. I did their job laid out all the groundwork for them, so they better!

✧ My new job is about a double income boost. But we'll see what that actually is like after taxes lmao. I don't plan on buying another house, so I'll be buying experiences (travels, food, more food). I've been riding the zero waste / anti-capitalism movement for a few years now, so I'm going to buy minimal merch (I say this now). KonMari that shit.

✧ I'm looking forward to snowballing on my achievements, but not to the point of burnout (again lmaooo god we shall see orz).

Here's to an amazing 2025~! For those who have struggled thus far, I have been there! You got this~! 💪

“It's not what happens to you, but how you react to it, that matters.” - Epictetus

#all that jas #!!!#when i saw DAO on my LI rewind i thot to myself - it's been a while since i've played a dragon age game

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pascalhowlett · 7 days ago

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Ethereal Chapter 4

A/N: HELLO HI VERY IMPORTANT! This chapter has some triggering scenarios when it comes to r!pe and non-consensual relationships between Geta and Cecilia. If that is something that triggers you, I ask you please do not read this chapter!

If you prefer to read on AO3, that can be found here!

Warnings: Mentions of r*pe, implied r*pe, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, smut

Summary: After the Roman Empire takes over Numidia, Cecilia is purchased by Emperor Geta as a pawn in his attempts to take over Rome. What will happen when she meets General Marcus Acacius, the soldier who was responsible for the death of her lover, Atticus Claudius?

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Original Female Character

This is Chapter 4! Find the rest of the chapters on my Tumblr here!

Word Count: 3k

That evening, Cecilia took her place beside Geta at the long dining table. Caracalla sat across from them, his expression a perpetual mask of discontent. The feast laid out before them was almost obscene in its abundance—a spread that could have easily satisfied a dozen soldiers, yet it was prepared for only the three of them. Golden loaves of bread still warm from the oven, succulent porchetta glistening with herbs and juices, bowls of vibrant fruits bursting with color, and pitchers of red wine stood in silent testament to the brothers’ grotesque privilege.

Despite the abundance of Roman delicacies, Cecilia could barely touch the slice of bread resting on her plate. Her stomach churned, not with hunger, but with unease. She knew she had to sing a different tune with Geta now in order to make him believe she had become smitten.

“I cannot believe the General,” Geta suddenly muttered, his voice thick with disdain as he speared a piece of meat. “Running off like a coward and leaving us to fend for ourselves. Taking my wife like she is more important than us”

Caracalla snorted in agreement, his grip tightening on his glass. “The man deserves nothing less than execution for such betrayal. Beheading would be a mercy for General Acacius.”

Cecilia hesitated, her fingers brushing the rim of her cup. She noticed that their words about the General angered her in a way they had not before. “He was shocked, that’s all,” she said softly, willing her voice to remain steady. “I’ll make sure he understands his duty—to protect the both of you—next time.”

“Next time?” Geta shot her a sharp look, his brow furrowing. “Where did he even take you, Cecilia? I pray there will not be a next time.”

“He… he just brought me back to the palace,” she replied, forcing a smile that she hoped seemed genuine as she picked at her food. “I stayed in our room until you both arrived.”

Geta seemed satisfied with her answer, nodding as he resumed eating, though Caracalla’s narrowed eyes lingered on her a moment longer. Cecilia lowered her gaze to her untouched bread, her heartbeat quickening. Lies came easier with practice, but the weight of them never lessened.

She still was shaken up from the news of Atticus. She felt betrayed, like he had been lying to her. What would she have done if Acacius hadn’t told her? She asked herself.

Breaking the tense silence, she looked to Geta, her voice trembling despite herself. “Geta, my love?”

Her words felt foreign, unnatural, as if they belonged to someone else. She cringed inwardly, but there was no turning back now.

“Speak, little dove,” Geta commanded, putting down his utensils to drink his wine.

“I…I just wanted to apologize for my behavior at the games today,” she swallowed, she felt like her throat was swelling as she forced the words, “I love you, and I shouldn’t speak unless spoken to.”

For a moment, silence once again enveloped the room, broken only by the faint crackle of the torches mounted on the walls and the clinks of dishes as they were passed about the table. Geta leaned back in his chair, studying her with a faint smirk curling his lips.

“Well, well,” he mused, swirling his wine. “I suppose even a bird can learn its place with proper training.” He reached across the table and tilted her chin up with a finger, his grip deceptively gentle. “You’ll remember that next time, won’t you, my dear?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. “I will, your highness.”

Caracalla snorted softly but said nothing, his eyes flicking between Geta and Cecilia before returning to his plate. Cecilia lowered her gaze, her cheeks burning with humiliation. She fought to steady her breathing, desperate to hold onto the mask she wore.

Beneath it all, her mind churned, replaying the words of General Acacius. Atticus had known of the plans that were made for her. He’d lied. The sting of it was almost unbearable, but now was not the time to unravel. If she crumbled in this room filled with watchful eyes, she would lose more than her pride.

She forced herself to lift her goblet, the wine sloshing slightly as her hands trembled. “To your honor both of you,” she said to the brothers, her voice thin but clear.

Geta raised his cup, his smirk broadening. “To mine.”

As they drank, Cecilia’s thoughts swirled with growing clarity The room buzzed with conversation again, but Cecilia’s mind was already elsewhere, turning over the plans she barely dared to entertain. If she wanted to survive, she would need more than apologies and submission. She would have to give him what he really wanted.

“Will the games continue tomorrow?” she asked, assuming she could speak.

Geta paused, his goblet midway to his lips. His dark eyes fixed on her, narrowing slightly, as though weighing whether her question warranted his breath. “They will,” he finally said, his tone clipped. “Why do you ask?”

Cecilia hesitated, feeling the weight of Caracalla’s gaze settle on her like a predator studying prey once more. She licked her lips, trying to keep her tone neutral. “I was just curious,” she replied. “The people seemed so lively today. I thought they might want more.”

Caracalla let out a sharp laugh, setting his goblet down with a thud. “The people always want more,” he sneered. “Blood and spectacle—that’s all they understand. That’s all they’re good for. But I must say, I find pleasure in it as well.”

“Enough,” Geta said, raising a hand to silence his brother. He turned his attention back to Cecilia. “If you must know, tomorrow’s games will be grander. More beasts, more gladiators, more death.” A thin smile played on his lips. “I imagine you’ll enjoy it, little dove.”

Cecilia forced a small smile, though her stomach twisted at the thought. She nodded, lowering her eyes to her plate. “Of course, my love,” she said softly, “I am sure whatever you two have planned will be a spectacle.”

“What I have planned, little dove,” Geta corrected her, “Caracalla is no use when executing the games. He does no more than pleasure himself to the sight of the gladiators’ bloodshed.”

Caracalla’s goblet clinked against the table loudly as he set it down with deliberate force. “Careful, brother,” he said, his voice low but dangerous. “Your tongue wags a little too fiercely.”

“Oh, does it?” Geta replied, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Tell me, what exactly do you contribute, Caracalla? Besides criticism and the release of your desires?”

The tension between the brothers thickened, and Cecilia sat frozen, her pulse quickening. The air felt charged, like a storm waiting to break. She did not realize how much they argued, purely to see who was more powerful than the other.

“I contribute more than you could ever hope to understand,” Caracalla shot back, his eyes narrowing. “While you play your games and parade your purchased wife like a pompous fool, I see the bigger picture. The games are nothing without the politics behind them, the alliances they secure. The relationships they create. Perhaps you should pay attention to the matches rather than your trophy of a woman.”

Geta’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, waving a dismissive hand. “Politics,” he scoffed. “You mean the web of lies you so enjoy weaving? Spare me.”

“Enough,” Cecilia interjected softly, surprising even herself with her words. Both men turned to her, their sharp gazes cutting like knives deep into her soul. Her heart pounded, but she kept her voice steady. “Please, this is dinner, not a battlefield.”

For a moment, neither brother spoke. Then Geta chuckled, breaking the silence. “You see, Caracalla? Even my little dove has more sense than you.”

Caracalla’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, reaching for his goblet instead as he shot daggers at Cecilia. She exhaled quietly. The tension had momentarily diffused, but she knew it was far from gone. The animosity between the brothers was a fire constantly smoldering. She took a sip of her wine. If she could navigate their rivalry, perhaps there was a way to exploit it. If they were too busy fighting each other, they might overlook her. And if they overlooked her, she could crumble the two of them from within.

The conversation moved on without her, Geta and Caracalla discussing the logistics of the games and the political power they wielded through them. Their voices faded into a dull hum in her ears as she stared at the table, her mind elsewhere.

Tomorrow. The games would be bigger, louder, bloodier. She would be expected to sit there, to smile and applaud like a devoted wife. But the thought of it churned her stomach. Tomorrow would come, and with it, more pointless death. But perhaps, it would also bring a chance to tip the scales.

The only comfort she could find as she tried to prepare herself for the games was the idea of General Acacius. Even if she had to act like she enjoyed the horrid events, she would have the General to guide her, to ground her. Even amidst the looming dread of faux smiles and forced applause, the idea of his presence brought a sense of peace. She thought about his embrace that seemed to pull her in when she felt she was drifting away. The same embrace that kept her sane when her world had changed forever just mere hours ago. In that moment, as her world had tilted and fractured, his touch had grounded her, keeping her from drifting into the darker corners of her mind.

The memory was bittersweet. She thought about his broad stature, the way he exudes a commanding yet understated allure, a quiet confidence that draws the eye without demanding one’s attention. She thought of his bold attributes—sharp cheekbones softened by a well-kept, gray beard. His face carried a weathered charm, as if etched by the passage of time and the weight of countless decisions. His gaze is always one full of thought, one that always peered into his soul.

There’s a sense of quiet passion about him, an intensity that suggests he loves with the same fierce devotion he brings to his duties. The thought of that overwhelms her, a crimson blush painting her cheeks as she brings herself back to the dinner table. There was comfort in the thought of Acacius, but also an uneasiness that ebbed and flowed along with it. She knew her reliance on him was growing into a…dependence. That scared her, especially after the news of Atticus’ dishonesty.

“Little dove,” Geta said, bringing her back to reality, “are you ready for bed?”

Her stomach churned, not for sleep, but for the forced implications of laying with the emperor. “Yes, my love,” she stated, standing from the table and bidding goodnight to Caracalla.

Caracalla smirked at the two of them. “You should send her my way sometime, brother,” he nearly laughed, “we always enjoyed each other’s company at the brothel.”

Cecilia froze, Caracalla’s suggestive words hung in the air. Her face burned with humiliation, though she refused to look at Caracalla. She was always disgusted with him, but he was always the highest bidder, of course. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, hidden by the folds of her dress.

Geta’s expression darkened, an arm wrapping around his wife as he spoke. “Watch your tongue, Caracalla,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “She’s mine now, and I don’t share.”

Caracalla chuckled, raising his goblet in mock surrender. “Of course, brother,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” But the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise, a deliberate taunt that left the tension evident. Caracalla was a disgusting man. She knew Caracalla probably did dream of her, her image radiating in his disturbing fantasies. Emperor Caracalla did not care if Cecilia was wed to his brother, he would have her either way.

Cecilia forced herself to move towards her shared bedroom with Geta, her legs stiff as she stepped away from the table. Every step felt like she had bricks tied to her ankles. As she reached the doorway, she dared a glance back to look at her husband. Geta was looking at her hungrily, his eyes full of lust and desire.

There was no denying that Geta considered Cecilia one of the most beautiful women in Rome. She had heard him boast about her beauty countless times to senators, dignitaries, and even his own brother. But to her, his admiration felt hollow, empty and seated only in expected desire. She wasn’t his equal, nor his partner. She was his possession—a living, breathing trophy he displayed to assert his dominance in comparison to his older brother.

Her fingers tightened around the doorknob as she tried to collect herself. She had learned long ago how to endure, how to play the role of a pleasured woman. But tonight, as the memory of Caracalla’s taunt echoed in her ears and the weight of her husband’s gaze lingered on her skin, she felt her act begin to diminish.

For now, all she could do was walk forward towards the mountain of sheets, step by agonizing step, toward a night she wished she could escape. As Geta locked the door, he turned to kiss her. She forced herself to stay still, her lips barely responding to him as his lips pressed against her own. When he finally pulled away, his gaze lingered on her, searching for something she wasn’t sure she could give. “You’re mine, little dove,” he murmured, “Don’t forget that.”

Cecilia managed a faint nod, her throat tight as if the words she wanted to say were caught there. “Of course, all yours…your highness,” she whispered, the lie slipping from her lips with practiced ease.

Geta smiled, seemingly satisfied, and moved to the edge of the bed, removing his ornate outer garments. Cecilia stood frozen in place for a moment, her hands trembling at her sides as she urged her body to do something…anything. She felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his high, impractical expectations for her. She moved toward him, her mind racing for ways to endure another night of this charade.

Just before the rise of dawn, she met Acacius in the alcove just as they had promised one another the afternoon prior. Acacius had beat her there, and was welcoming as she entered their small hideaway. His broad frame was bathed in the faint glow of the first hints of morning light, his silhouette calm and steady as he leaned against the wall, posed just like the support she needed him to be. When he saw her approach, his face softened, and he straightened. He stepped toward her with a warm smile.

“Cecilia,” he said, his voice low but filled with adoration, “You made it.”

“I couldn’t stay another moment in that room,” she replied, but still managed to smile at his comforting gaze. The tension she had carried all night was still coiled tightly in her chest, but something about Acacius’ presence began to ease it. She started to feel like she could breathe again.

As she stepped fully into their little hideaway, he reached out, his hands brushing her arms in a gesture that was both protective and grounding. “You’re safe here,” he murmured, reminding her gently. “What happened?”

Her throat tightened as she looked up at him. The words threatened to spill out, but she hesitated, unsure of where to begin or how much to say. She did not like speaking about it. She felt she could never truly tell him, as the reminder stirred feelings deep within her that caused terror. “It’s…it’s nothing new,” she finally managed, “Just more of the same.”

Acacius’ jaw clenched, his hands briefly tightening on her arms before he let out a controlled breath. “You don’t deserve this,” he said, his voice rough with restrained anger. “Any of it.”

Cecilia shook her head, tears pricking at her eyes. “I don’t have a choice, Acacius. Atticus signed me up for this pain, and I must follow through.”

“Atticus wronged you,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “But I won’t let you be.”

His words wrapped around her like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her hurt. She let herself lean into him, her forehead resting against his chest. She knew he was right. Atticus had wronged her, and she had needed someone else to tell her that. For a moment, the world outside the alcove faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Acacius wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as though he could shield her from the weight of the world. His touch was firm yet tender, his hands settling on her back with a protective instinct that warred against the fire steadily growing within him. He knew he shouldn’t let himself feel this way about her. She was young, fragile. But she was also forbidden to him, bound to a man unworthy of her. Yet, no matter how fiercely he tried to fight it, his feelings for Cecilia only grew stronger with each stolen moment they shared in the small hideaway. Every glance, every word, every touch chipped away at his resolve, leaving him powerless against the tide of emotions he felt soon he would be no longer able to control.

Acacius closed his eyes, his cheek brushing the top of her head as he tried to bring himself back down to earth. Her presence was intoxicating—a bittersweet ache that made his heart race. He wondered if she could feel his heart rate quicken as he held her. He wanted to fight it, to push her away for both their sakes, but every time she sought him out, every time she looked at him with those pleading, vulnerable eyes, he was a goner.

“Cecilia,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I wish I could take you far away from here. Away from all of this.”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her gaze filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. “If only it were that simple,” she whispered.

He reached up, his hand brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered, his touch gentle as though she might break under his touch. “One day,” he said quietly, the words more a vow than a hope. “One day, I’ll find a way. You will not live in this reality forever. I promise.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the air. Acacius knew the dangers of this attachment. He knew it could cost them both dearly, but in that moment, with her in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

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yyyipes · 4 months ago

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hihi! ive been wondering, apologies if youve answered this already, but how much of an illustration do you plan out before you begin?

Hm! I’d say that it varies HUGELY. And I’ve actually been wanting to rethink my process, so this is helpful to write out. This is all talking about imagined scenes and whatnot, not still life art (which I rarely do anyways)…

In the past (and preferably) I have a pre-formed concept all ready to go before I even begin drawing. As in, the basic layout of the image or scene is set, major objects/characters are already placed and I have “notes” in my head about other details I want to try and include. I’ve usually slept on the idea for a night or two and done a lot of mental math on it. So it’s kind of already “there”. Sometimes I still do some thumbnail sketches to get it just right first. Then it’s all about getting that picture onto the canvas somehow.

This isn’t to say that those “planned” drawings can’t change immensely between concept and final, they often do. But the “mood” and feelings I get while working on it generally don’t change much.

Lately, however, I have had much more trouble accurately planning out poses, subjects and scenes. Also difficulty feeling connected to my ideas. The mental images I have are blurry and watery, and it’s more of a feeling that I have to try and pin down than a “head picture” that I’m just transcribing. So, it all starts with the sketch, not with musing. Sometimes I spend half the day just trying to get the basic concept figured out. It’s very hard to draw anything deeply rewarding this way, but it works out most of the time if I try at it long enough.

Part of why I want to have another storyline to work on is— I think it would narrow my scope and maybe I’d have an easier time finding/imagining meaningful scenes with characters I relate to. I need to make connections with my subject to care enough to plan things out, I guess… or my mind needs to be in a certain place. Not sure what determines the level of planning, tbh!

Hope that explains things somewhat!

#quastion

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gensokyogarden · 1 year ago

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it's almost new years and you guys have been there for me so much during this year so tonight I do want to make a post trying to recognize a lot of people within the community. My head is pretty fuzzy right now so I fear I'm gonna forget some folks, in which case I'm honestly genuinely very sorry, but know that so many of you have touched my life in a positive way. Since I wasn't fully around on Thanksgiving either, consider this my chance of telling you all that I'm thankful for you too.

Some of you may not see this. Either because you don't follow this blog or you've been offline for a while. But I hope even if you don't see this post you still are able to understand my feelings towards you.

At the moment I would prefer if people don't reblog this. I'm not the most comfortable with my out of character thoughts being spread around. However if you know someone in this but think they won't see it on their own you are welcome to link them to this. Also if you're mentioned in this and you REALLY want to save it, I guess I can't stop you from reblogging.

Ruler: It feels like anytime I'm in a rough spot you always have kind words for me. With how often you're in character I just deeply respect you always breaking it for me. You've helped me to feel safe in the community during a very difficult time. That means the world to me.

Annette-mun: I know we only met a year ago but you have become an incredibly close friend to me. Being honest, I rank you as one of my best friends. I have fun with all of the boardgames we play together as well as the connections we've made between a lot of our muses. I always want to recognize all the work you put in sending me those ask spams. I'm sorry that because of head stuff I haven't been able to answer most of the new set. It makes me feel as if I've failed to respect the effort that you have put in. But I hope some day in the future I can fix that. I'm very glad we're friends.

Vel: You're a really funny friend and I care about you a lot. I feel that sometimes I'm not sensitive enough to things that may bother you and worry I may have upset you at times in the past. If I have, I'm really sorry. You write Kyouko really well and your ocs are also quite fun. Thanks for letting me make Nagi. Sometimes you say things that make me feel you are self-concious about your blog and other things. So I just wanna reiterate that I am in your corner and here for you whenever you need.

Slap: I was shy towards you at first, I'll admit. It may not seem it but I'm kinda a shy person in general and I'm nervous to warm up to people, but I'm glad you joined the Touhou community. You're a really funny guy. I love reading your posts on my dash and now I also love playing the occasional game with ya. Your ability to do voice and to commit to bits is astounding. I'm really glad I met you.

Argo: You're someone who is always there for me. I really appreciate that. I left the Fate community for personal reasons years ago now. I'm very glad that, despite that, I still ended up meeting you. Because you've been such a good friend to me. I'm glad that you've gotten somewhat into Touhou because it gives us more room to interact. You've really been there when I've needed you. Often you apologize and say you don't do enough but you've done so much for me. You're special to me.

Hoche: Through all the struggles I've gone through you have been very supportive of me. You have been a level headed voice of support and advice. I think that if it were not for you I would have been worse off in many different circumstances. Aside from that you are a very talented writer. I find myself stunned by some of what I've seen you write. Thank you for everything you've done for me and for being my friend.

Zane: You always show me cool warhammer things and that's special to me. I also really like Nyalter. I love ocs in general, but I think you have done a phenomenal job in giving her a life and story that is uniquely hers. I find it to be quite inspirational and it really pushes me to work harder on my own original characters.

Amber: I have mentioned this before but you were the first person to welcome me into the community. That is always going to be special to me. During that period when you left I teared up a fair amount because it felt like things would always be so different with you gone. I'm very glad that you came back. I really like all your ocs. I'm glad Eri isn't gone but I'm also really happy to be seeing the opportunity for your other ocs to shine as well. They're all fun, but I'm particularly a fan of Anna.

Kay: You've given me some of the advice that has helped me the most when I have been in a bad spot. I can't thank you enough for that. You've stopped me from making really bad decisions. You've also just been a fun and supportive friend. I am very interested in your Reimu and the story arc you've created with the hakurei god.

Swigg: I know we haven't talked much lately. I think our schedules don't line up the best. But you recently mentioned trying to get back into Tumblr. I'll be very happy if you do. Your ocs are fun and you put a lot of love and care into the canon characters you write. I think you add a lot to the community.

Sethy: I didn't know it for a while but back in the Fate community I followed your arknights blog and admired you there. I'm super glad I have gotten the opportunity to meet you and to become your friend. I think that all the things you do are so cool. Like you're a vtuber that's incredible. I always wanted to stream but could never work up the courage. You also know the creators of all the walfas I love. I just think its so cool. You have such a history within the community. I know that you suffered a very bad tragedy this year. I don't believe I was in a good enough headspace at that time to have provided you with the support a friend should have given and I deeply regret that. I just hope you're doing well.

Noka: I think you're a real sweetie and also really funny. I'm glad to see you posting on your sfw blog a lot more again because I really love seeing you on my dash. I'm hoping that we can do a lot more threads in the future because its always fun to write our muses together.

Minnie: Maybe the only person with the same brain worms as me. I know that lately we have not talked much but I hope you are doing well. I just wanna say that I really love your art.

Aurora: My apprentice and buddy, hehe. I know I haven't been around much but I want you to know that I'm glad you decided to join the rpc. You're so full of ideas and kindhearted. You have such phenomenal oc ideas and have such a talent for making danmaku. I think someday you may be the centerpiece of the community.

Sats: We haven't spoken too often but like Amber you were one of the first folks to interact with me in the community. Alongside that I find your writing to be phenomenal. As are your headcanons. The work that you put in to research, especially on folklore, is just so inspirational. It drives me to want to learn everything I can.

Momi: Hey Momi. It's been a while since you've been around and I miss you a lot. I know we still message on discord occasionally so its not like I can't reach out to ya. But I just miss you being in the rpc a lot. You were such a great writer and always doing something fun. But I imagine you've got a whole bunch of difficult challenges ahead of you. I've heard the career you're pursuing is really rough. I hope that you're thriving in it though.

Sarience: You've always been a good pal to me. I have a lot of fun writing with Neka in both forms as well as your other muses. There's a lot of asks from you I haven't answered yet. I'm really sorry about that. It feels disrespectful. Still I hope to be able to do more in the future. Thank you for always being interested in interacting with my muses, even when I was very new and unestablished.

Kyo: I really really like everytime that I see you on my dash. You write your muses in such a fun and engaging way. I hope that we get to interact a lot more in the future. I also know you've started something new in the last few months, not gonna be specific since I'm not sure if you've shared that part of your personal life on Tumblr, but I wish you the best of luck at it. I think you're going to succeed hard!

Ran: Ran I guess I just first wanna say I consider you a really good and special friend. When we've spoken you've often alluded to social anxiety and feeling like you've said embarassing things. So I want to restate that I've never been put off by what you've said and I love talking to you. As well as roleplaying and doing boardgames. I have so much fun pairing our muses up our causing wacky hijinks. I haven't seen you on your blogs much lately. Maybe I've just missed you but if not I hope you return to the rpc soon. It's not the same place without you.

Metal: You've been a long time friend to me by this point. Longer than a lot of folks on this list. I really appreciate that a lot. We haven't talked too much lately but I hope you're doing well. I also know not all of our fandoms sync up but I'm always down to interact anyways.

Nep: Hey Nep I haven't really seen you on Tumblr lately. I'm hoping that's just because we've been active at different times but if not I hope you're back soon. If you're not, I hope you're happy wherever you are. I think that you're real fun to write with and you've got original characters I'm excited to do much more with. I also believe that you had an event while I was gone that I'll hopefully be able to catch up on sometime soon.

Koi: I know I've not been around much lately but I hope that you're doing well. I've not really been in the headspace for horror lately but you're very good at bringing a unique horror flair to things.

Plumber: Hey we don't really personally know each other all that well but you're always making fun and wacky posts that I love to see on my dash. It feels like the rpc would be a lot less fun without you here. You also seem to be an incredibly kind person.

Kaali: A friend I've had for quite a while now but that I don't talk to enough. Sorry about that I'm just genuinely not the best with conversations. I have mad respect for all the work you put into your original characters and into your ideas. Like you really pull out all the stops.

Awoo: I've admired your ability to create interesting and fun original characters a lot. Several decisions I've made to develop my skills as a roleplayer have been inspired by you. I know you've had some mental health struggles of your own and I haven't heard from you lately so I hope you're doing alright wherever you are.

Sades: During some really difficult moments you were there for me when not many other people were. I'm always going to appreciate that. You're also the reason I got into Touhou. Which means that without you, chances are I woule not have met the vast majority of people here or found a community where I feel I belong.

Cobalt: I am always ecstatic when I see your posts on my dash. I love your Chen and think that you're a lot of fun. I have not been around much but when I have been I've seen you talking about things like not feeling you have much to do in the community. I can't make decisions for you but I do want to say that I think you are a fundamental piece of our rpc. I would be sad not having you here.

Teeps: I was shy about approaching you at first but you're incredibly cool. A lot of the fandoms you are in I'm not in but your posts get me interested in them anyways. Like I have no clue who that green sonic character is but you give her such an energy. I'm real glad to know ya. As far as the 2hu rpc goes you've been around a lot longer than me and I love hearing your own personal that you've developed.

Cait: I need to pop in and catch your streams more. I think that you're very cool to see on the dash. I especially love the way that you write your Sakuya. I really cherrish her interactions with my Reimu.

Sev: First of all. A while ago you sent me a very kind message wishing me well in my mental health struggles. I was not in the best place then so I did not appropriately respond. So thank you for that it truly meant a lot to me. I believe that you put a stunning amount of work into the characters you write, giving them so much detail and layers. Its inspiring and I just really want to appreciate you for it.

Hanafuda: You haven't been around much and last we spoke you alluded to a rough spot. So I hope if you ever see this that you're doing well. It was always fun having another Miko on the dash for mine to banter with. I also looked forward to seeing more of the other muses you played. Maybe someday you'll return.

Frozen: Everytime I see one of your posts it makes me smile. Honestly you've got some of the funniest jokes in the fandom. Some I don't get but I still feel they'd be hilarious if I got them. Also I have noticed you often commission art for other people. I find that to be a very sweet and kindhearted thing. So I consider you to be the heart of the community.

Fox: I don't know you very well but I've recently seen your multimuse popping up and it seems very fun. So I want to get to know ya in the future.

Chiru: We've not really spoken but I think you make some really great posts. Very well written headcanons and roleplays. So I just wanna say I'm always happy seeing you on my dash.

Draco: you're not in the touhou fanbase but you have been a long time friend. I haven't heard much from you lately so I hope you're doing well. I'm here if ya need me.

Sturm: I think that all your fairy posts are incredibly. You truly are a star of my dashboard. Hopefully someday we'll interact more. I'd like that.

Xana: You seem to have so much lore for your blogs, its really cool. It seems you've been around a long while so there's a lot of history. Someday I'd like to sit down and hear all about it from you. I also find your writing to be quite fun.

Jacob: we don't interact too much but I'm always excited to see someone posting walfas images. So that has always made you stick out in my dash and brighten it. Hope you're doing well.

Geisthonoredferry: As of yet, I don't believe we've interacted. But you're always liking my posts thst's something I really appreciate. Hopefully sometime I can get to know your oc.

Carp: Last I saw you were in a rough spot so I hope things are well now. You're newer to my dash but you seem very kind hearted and jovial. Also your ocs sre red as hell and go've got good face claim tastes.

Crim: You're a real cool friend with a lot of cool ideas. I love any interactions that our muses have together. Although my favorite is Kutaka/Eiki because it's somehow both a very obvious ship and yet a rare one. I think that they are very cute together. I also like the sisterhood of Reimu and Kisume. It's an unexpected but fun dynamic.

Mugenri-mun: I don't believe I know your screen name but you've been real supportive of me through my hardship and gave me a person to speak to. I would not be in as good a place without you. Also I'm glad someone is repping Len'en.

Kcmeiji & Closedheartedgirl: I wanted to note you both as you are both Komeiji blogs thay popped up and then disappeared while I've been got on hiatus. I just think that's a bit disappointing. The Komeiji are some of my favorites.

That's about all I have to say. It was kind of tough to word it all out but those are things I want y'all to know.

#beyond the border ~ ooc

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heireign · 14 days ago

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kore! 💖 i am so so so thankful to have gone through 2024 with you, & i am thankful i am going into 2025 with you as well! your love & passion for rhaenyra is evident in everything you write for her, from headcanons to writing in general. to me, she’s not just a character created by george r. r. martin — she’s yours. her fears, her desires, her joys & her sorrows … you bring them to life in such a vivid way. not just that, but you are truly very lovely & awe-inspiring — i am always made happier seeing you in my notifications, even if i’m not the best at answering back in time (sorry!!!). i hope you have a wonderful rest of the year & i hope 2025 treats you as kindly as you deserve. x

as 2024 comes to an end…. | @maidmyth

lis, you sweet, brilliant, precious angel - I’ve never met someone so dedicated to spreading love and light and revitalizing everything you touch with your beautiful spirit ❤️ you’re also so ? your dedication to creativity, and toward finding new ways to explore your muse and showcase the development you’ve put into her whether it be by asks, graphics, threads or opens - it’s ? remi feels so much a facet upon my dash, she feels so entirely real and engrained in canon no matter which one it is that ? I’m always sat for where you take her and what you DO with her and the fact she is your mind child is so genuinely impressive and inspiring. and listen 😭 your presence is so refreshing and you’re so genuinely welcoming and kind and I adore you so genuinely much

I love rhaenyra’s character for so many reasons but chiefly is the fact that ? there IS all of that but it’s very much the sort of thing that is always slightly in danger of bubbling up to the surface because she feels so MUCH so deeply and it’s very ? It can be very detrimental for her to show it because it can ? be an easy signifier of weakness to some that only serves to turn people against her 😭 like it’s ? her emotional complexities have always fascinated me and since reading fire and blood and reading how so LITTLE is actually recorded of her personality it’s intriguing to me. I adore actual real life history and knowing grrm is history fan as well does make me appreciate the format of fire and blood and look at it through fresh eyes each time I reread bc it ? especially the dance portion echoes how real life polarizing women were written about throughout the ages ( ie anne boleyn) in that her actions are known, and a few words, but her personality is gutted and veiled in a specific uncertainty that leads you with very DIFFERENT versions of rhaenyra no matter which version you adhere to and that ? fascinates me😭

ALL THAT TO SAY ILY, and I hope you have the year you want, and so much more, and you get everything you hoped for out of it. and you never need to apologize for how slow you are 😭 I completely understand how sometimes despite wanting to the words just don’t come and sometimes you just don’t have the energy for words to word. but I’m always gonna be here to hear what you have to say when you come back ❤️

#maidmyth #ANSWERED .#it makes me so happy whenever people notice how I write her emotions because I think about it often 😭#AND ITS A PART OF MY PORTRAYAL I AM VERY ? admittedly focused on because she is emotional driven - she IS; but she also largely focuses on #logic and on duty to guide her path

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bhaalspwned · 3 months ago

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𝐁𝐇𝐀𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐏𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃. private & selective blog for omen, aka, the dark urge / durge from baldur's gate 3 ; written by fable ( she / they ).

stats & biography. memes. playlist. pinterest. the other dark urge.

rules below !

hi!! 👋 i'm fable, i'm 23 years old, my timezone is est, i've been in the rpc for ~10 years, and you could pour soup in my lap and i'd probably apologize to you. if the way these are worded makes me sound a little harsh, it isn't meant to come off that way!! i've just been in the rpc for too long to be vague or lenient. that said, a few common sense rules before we get into the lengthier ones that may need a lil explaining:

— don't follow me if you're a dick towards any group of oppressed people. — mun =/= muse, i don't condone everything my muse does or has done in the past, you get the drill. — vagueposting / guiltposting is an instant block from me. direct communication is free.

anyway !!

[ 1 ] for blogs that i can’t see myself interacting with, i will soft block you to keep my followers clean ( unless your rules specify that you prefer to be hard blocked ) and i ask that you do the same to me so that i don't accidentally send memes or whatever to someone i'm not mutuals with. personal blogs will be also hard blocked immediately unless a sideblog is attached to it and i can easily see that. also, do not unfollow and follow again and again to get my attention. i will just hard block you and call it a day.

[ 2 ] i will only write with 18+ muns. if you follow me and are a minor or your age is not listed clearly on your blog, i will soft block you asap. do not lie to me about your age, you will be hard blocked if i find out.

on a similar but less serious note, i also don't follow if i can't immediately see an alias. just...kinda wanna know who i'm following, is all.

[ 3 ] i get that plotting is kinda important for some people!! however, rarely will i ever fully plot a thread, and i heavily prefer using memes to start interactions unless we're comfy enough to where i can just hop in your dms with an idea. now, plotting for the general vibe of the thread and dynamic between characters? absolutely!! but frankly, if i relied on completely plotting threads, i'd kill my creativity and get even less done than i already do. i'm here for a fun time, not a stressful time.

[ 4 ] speaking of relying on memes, feel free to send me several at a time! there's no pressure, of course, but you're more likely to get a timely response if you give me variety to work with. if i get a meme i don't think i can work with, i'll probably just send several back to you to make up for it, but please let me know if you would rather i not do that!!

also, memes i reblog never "expire". if i reblogged a meme six months ago and you wanna send something from it, have at it!! just. maybe like the post at the same time or something so i can check the context of it, if it's important lmao

[ 5 ] i am 23 and omen is very much an adult, so nsfw content is likely to show up here in some capacity, but mostly through headcanons and musings. when it does, it'll be tagged as "nsfw //" ( or "suggestive //" if it's only implied ). however, i'm only going to write those topics with people i'm close to, and even then, very rarely.

[ 6 ] i love shipping!! i am the least picky person i know, omen is kissable, and chances are i'm gonna be down with anything as long as we've talked about it a little ooc and the muses have chemistry and it's, you know, legal. i am down to explore all possible paths of a dynamic ( platonic or romantic ), so literally anything is a-okay if we talk it over first.

[ 7 ] anon hate is cringe, so if you send it, it won't get a response from me unless it's to make fun of you. at this point i expect most of us to know not to answer it seriously otherwise the sender is just being encouraged, so if i keep seeing it being answered / talked about on the dash ( unless it's being poked fun at ), i'm probably just going to soft block for my sake because. y'know, you didn't wanna get the negativity, i don't wanna see that negativity, etc.

on that note, untagged negativity will also lead to me unfollowing. untagged posts in general will lead to me unfollowing if it's a frequent thing, honestly.

[ 8 ] if you need something tagged, tell me! i’ll do my best to remember to tag what i need to, but please remind me if i happen to forget. my memory is genuinely so bad, i promise it's never intentional if i leave off a tag. the system i use is just "trigger //", and as for what i need tagged, all i ask is that visuals of sunflowers and ic detailed descriptions of terminal illnesses are tagged, specifically cancer. i'm not gonna get on anyone's case for not tagging either of those or anything, it'd just be nice <3

[ 9 ] obligatory "let's just have fun" rule here, we're all on this godawful site to write our silly little guys, it really isn't that serious. just be decent, and we'll be chill!!

#( pinned. )#bg3 rp #durge rp #dark urge rp

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dcgfight · 3 months ago

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i give u both my goobers 📜 @91cmspoilers and @girlishwhiimsy

Send in 📜 and I’ll use this incorrect quotes generator using your muse and my muse. @91cmspoilers / girlishwhiimsy <3

Iako: We have a problem. Izuru: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

--------------------------------

Iako: Are we fighting or flirting? Izuru: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck- Iako: Your point?

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Izuru: This is a very powerful artifact. You’d be messing with some forces we don’t fully understand. Iako: That sounds like a dare to me. Izuru: Oh my god.

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Iako: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration* Izuru: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table? Iako: I— Iako: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

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Ayumi: I'm very scary. Iako: You're about as scary as a wet kitten. Ayumi: Wet kittens are cute, at least I've got that going for me. Iako: And small. Ayumi: Ayumi: ...Yeah, yeah. I guess.

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Ayumi: Bro, I had a dream we fucked. Iako: Bro, relax it was just a dream. Ayumi: Huh, gay, I wouldn’t fuck you. Iako: You wouldn’t? Ayumi: I mean, unless you want to-

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Ayumi: You have to apologize to them Iako. Iako: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

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Ayumi: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Iako! Iako: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

#91cmspoilers #girlishwhiimsy #:D #;sir this is my emotional support dog coded antag. (ooc)

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ternfic · 3 months ago

Text

Reboot

Chapter Twenty

“So what do you think??” Watevra gushed as Good Cop studied his restored face in the little handheld mirror she’d offered him.

“I look like me again,” he murmured in awe. He glanced up from the mirror to meet her gaze. “Thank you.”

She smirked back at him. “Just don’t forget I’m not the only one you have to thank.”

“Of course…” Good Cop trailed off, gaze flicking toward the corner where Business had been standing, watching, on stand-by in case the device didn’t work. He wasn’t there anymore.

He must have snuck out the moment she handed it off to him, Bad Cop mused.

I can’t say that I’m sad about that, but it does make it harder to track him down and actually talk to him. Good Cop sighed.

We don’t have to do it right now, Bad Cop suggested. I’m certainly not keen on the idea.

I know. But putting it off might just make it worse. He hopped down off the exam table and left the room in search of the former President. By the time they found him he was empty-handed once more, the restorative device safely stored away somewhere. He seemed surprised to run into them- and a little wary.

Of course he would be. He’d only ever been able to overpower them because of his armor, which Emmet had destroyed in their confrontation so long ago now. Bad Cop could break him without trouble now, if he were so inclined. Fortunately for Business, he wasn’t.

They stared at each other in awkward, uncomfortable silence for a minute. Good Cop finally found his voice again. “Ah- we just… wanted to say thank you.”

Business’ gaze fell away. “I hardly think I deserve your gratitude for fixing something that I broke in the first place.”

“Watevra seems to think you do. So. Thank you.”

“…You’re welcome.” And then Business scooted past them, muttering something about having work to do. Good Cop let out a long, drawn-out sigh as he relaxed again.

That went surprisingly well.

It did. Now let’s go find something to drink.

I’m with you on that.

“Emmet?”

The Special paused in his quest for coffee at the sound of his name, and turned to give the General a questioning look. She seemed somewhat nervous, though he couldn’t imagine why. “Can I help you?” he asked brightly.

“I wanted to apologize.”

He stared at her. That was something of a shock. “What for?”

“For everything I said about you, back in Apocalypseburg,” she sighed. “It was cruel of me, and uncalled for.”

“You were just trying to get people to listen-”

“But I still brushed you off as- as a useless nobody, even after Lucy came to your defense. My scans were wrong. I was wrong. There’s so much more to you than can be seen at first glance, and- I’d like to start over, if that’s okay.”

Emmet gave her a bright smile and held a hand out to her. “I’d like that. It’s nice to meet you, General.”

She smiled back, taking his hand and shaking it. “Call me Sweet.”

Bad Cop glanced up at a soft tapping to see Benny floating in the balcony’s doorway. “Bit early for brandy, isn’t it?” the spaceman teased.

Bad Cop shrugged. “Had us a little chat with our ex-boss.”

“Oof.” Benny winced. “Okay, I guess I can let it slide this time then.” He settled himself on the other side of Bad Cop’s ice bucket. “Other than that, how are you doing? We haven’t seen you for a couple days.”

“Been asleep for most of it.” Benny let out a startled laugh at his admission. “And we had a meeting with the Queen this morning.”

“Ooh, what for?”

Good Cop switched out in answer, giving Benny a smile and a wave. The spaceman squealed in glee.

“She fixed your face!!”

“Well, she and Business both did. Hence our ‘chat’.” He took a large swallow from their glass.

“Still, it’s great!”

“Is everyone else alright?”

“For the most part. Lucy’s still trying to get her head sorted out- both literally and metaphorically, she dyed her hair so it’ll be black again. And all her new memories from when she forgot Emmet for a bit there are still conflicting with her original ones, I think it’s still causing some tension between her and Emmet. That and the fact she seems to be into the General.” Good Cop raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh my.”

“Yeah. Honestly I think she’s more disturbed by that than Emmet is. He seems pretty willing to take it in stride.” Benny clasped his hands together. “And she’s not the only one still coming to terms with some revelations about herself.”

“Benny…?”

The spaceman got up and moved to sit beside him, pulling Good Cop’s arm around his shoulders. “Pretty rude awakening to not realize you’ve got friends that mean as much to you as spaceships until you think you’re about to lose them. I think I was about as panicked as Emmet.”

“…Really? You didn’t seem like it.”

“Astronaut, dude, we’re trained to keep our cool in intense situations. I waited to have my meltdown until we were all safely back.” He snatched the glass from Good Cop’s hand, knocking back what was left in it. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Bad Cop switched back out, thoughtfully silent, before moving his arm to wrap around Benny’s waist and pull him closer. “We don’t plan on it.”

It was a couple days before Rex had to meet with Watevra. She probably thought she was doing him a favor by giving him time to rest and get his thoughts in order, but it just left him tense and agitated instead. He would have rather just gotten it done and over with.

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry,” he told her as he stopped before her throne. “Whatever memories I might have in here now-” he tapped his temple- “you still caused a lot of trouble for the one person in the universe that matters to me.”

“I know,” Watevra murmured, “and for that I am sorry. Had I realized… A lot would have turned out very differently.”

Rex stared at her. He’d never once expected to hear her apologizing to him- not when she’d been the cause of the whole mess.

Not after he’d tried to destroy everything.

“So you’re only sorry because you almost destroyed the life of the one who made you?” he couldn’t help but needle. Watevra huffed at him.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to rein the Duplos in? They’re impervious to everything, and genuinely thought you all were just playing with them. It took me the longest time to convince them to stop going. But after that… I should have gone with my first instinct and had Mayhem do things the Systarian way. It probably would have put an end to the hostilities that much sooner- but because I second-guessed myself, you got trapped on Undar, and Systar wound up destroyed.”

“…Emmet told you all that?” And she’d believed him?

“He did,” she confirmed.

“Brat told me he only told you a little of what happened…”

Watevra chuckled. “He told us all the whole story, shortly after you destroyed the Temple actually.” Rex let out an annoyed growl. “Are you still going to try to start Armomageddon?”

Rex scratched his chin as he gave her question thorough consideration. “…As long as Emmet’s safe and happy, I guess I’ve got no beef with you.” She sagged in relief.

“So no more antagonizing my guards?”

“Well I can’t promise that,” he said, smirking at her. “Gotta have my fun somehow. But… I can promise I won’t do anything lethal to them.”

“I guess that’s as good as we’re going to get from you,” Watevra sighed. “Rex. I can’t let your actions go unpunished, but I think you’ve suffered enough as it is. Therefore I have decided that your sentence will be to help with the construction of Syspocalypstar.”

That surprised the rogue. “Not jail?”

“Not jail,” Watevra confirmed. “As I said, you’ve been through enough.” She smirked. “And you probably wouldn’t stay put anyway.”

That got a laugh out of him. “Probably not,” he admitted. He was starting to like her, he decided. “And what of my ship and my crew?”

“They’re here, and they’re safe. You can have them back once you’ve served your sentence. I had Mayhem dismantle your time travel device, though.”

That rankled a bit. Then again, this was a better outcome than he had ever thought possible… He gave a stiff nod. “That’s… fine. I wasn’t gonna use it again anyway.”

Watevra gave him a warm smile. “I’m glad. But I won’t keep you anymore; I’m sure you’ve got other things you’d rather be doing.”

“Yes ma’am,” he quipped, giving her a mock bow before turning around and leaving the throne room. Now he would just have to figure out what to do with himself in the meantime.

#the lego movie #gcbc #benny the spaceman #rex dangervest #emmet brickowski #sweet mayhem #general mayhem #queen watevra wa'nabi #coppernauts

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the-arbiter-general · 1 year ago

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mr general! *holds up mic*

please pardon the interruption, but i am here on behalf of the public with a very important question! and the masses are dying to know your answer!

*ahem* we are no strangers to admiring public officials and celebrities of all kinds, and sometimes we can’t help but wonder what it would be like to interact with them and gain their favor. so, i humbly wish to know (on behalf of the public this is definitely not an excuse!!!!) the best, most surefire way to make you laugh.

please respond at your earliest convenience. thank you for all that you do for the luofu!

-definitely a verified journalist anon

Laughter. Was the he even allowed of such a pleasure? His thoughts races as you raised your mic eagerly, your eyes having a strange determination, causing the General to give you a smile, or more specifically, a controlled smirk.

The General's eyes highlighted a certain amusement through his masterfully trained facial expression, a golden, glinting gaze lowering to your own.

If he were to answer, it would be—“The absurdity of someone's reasoning, especially if their action's conclude a negative outcome, a prime example of this would be...” and before you could react with confusion, his gaze goes past you, distant to the scenery behind, a moment of recollection in his eyes.

“The Stellaron Hunters, and their... eventful motifs,” his answer would prove true, finding himself chuckling, but it wasn't of a happy emotion, nor anything else positive, and under an observant gaze, you can call it disbelief, otherwise with a slight bitterness that he has no choice but to laugh it off, or swallow in defeat.

Ah—“My apologies,” he notices the confusion right away, and his head tilts to the side, an apologetic smile accomodating you. “I don't often pull this card, and you certainly haven't specified much, but, at your leisure, that is my truth, and,” his facial expressions return to the once musing smirk.

“At the thought of one of the people who work under me, attempting to consume an ongoing popular drink within the Luofu,” a low 'hmhm' escapes his mouth, looking away to the side. “Mung Bean Soda, was it? The reaction of my Cloud Retainer would most certainly be a feast to the eyes.”

#[ ✧ ] — Hourly Leisures #honkai star rail rp #hsr rp #star rail rp #jing yuan rp #honkai star rail roleplay #jing yuan #jing yuan roleplay blog #jing yuan rp blog

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maggacammara · 1 year ago

Text

Wyllvember, Day Two

II. Wyll and Your Tav

“I appreciate the offer, but—”

Before Wyll can finish, Rauva is sitting on one of the large, flat rocks by the shore, moonlight shimmering on her dusky skin as she stares out at the horizon. Wyll sighs inwardly and sits down next to her. The silence, soundtracked by waves breaking and the chatter of tieflings and adventurers getting drunk off ithbank, is welcome. Still, he doesn’t mind when Rauva finally speaks. “I would have spent the evening with Shadowheart.”

No elaboration. Wyll nods, musing. “Everything okay with you two?” he says, dropping into a more casual register than he typically uses with his companions. Maybe he’ll be able to pry some personal information out of the notoriously guarded drow. She nods, the gesture almost imperceptible. “I take it you don’t expect me to stand in for her regular duties.” This may be his first attempt at flirting with Rauva. He’s gotten to almost everyone else by now.

Rauva’s head turns sharply, her red eyes boring into him. At first, he thinks he’s upset her, but then he realizes—she’s flustered. Her skin, like his, is too dark to betray her flush of embarrassment, but he sees it in the tension she holds, the slightly widened eyes. “It’s not…” she trails off. For the first time since meeting her, Wyll actually sees Rauva’s thoughts telegraphed across her expression, no tadpole needed—it’s not like that. Well, it is. I don’t know. It’s complicated.

“I get it.” Wyll laughs. “Relationships aren’t easy for a hero.” Rauva opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off. “And don’t say you aren’t one! You may not see yourself that way, but the tieflings certainly do. Your actions matter far more than how you perceive yourself.”

Rauva nods again, that curt, dutiful nod. But he can tell she’s relaxed a bit now. “Are you holding out for anyone here?” she says. Her low voice seems huskier in the evening.

Wyll really thinks before he answers. The truth is no, he’s not quite that committed to anyone in their camp. However, this doesn’t mean he hasn’t considered a few of them, and he knows this is what Rauva is getting at. “I am offended that Astarion hasn’t asked to bite me yet, if that’s what you mean,” he says. Rauva laughs, which he considers a success—as well as an opportunity to be more vulnerable. “I’m holding out for something special. It may end up being someone here… I’m not sure yet.”

“I see,” Rauva says. She thinks for a moment, picks up a smooth stone and tosses it at the water. Rather than skipping across the surface, it sinks straight to the bottom without a splash. “I never thought I would grow close with someone like I have with Shadowheart. Not with my life how it was. Is.” The noise from the camp grows to a roar for a moment—laughter, cheers, Alfira’s smooth voice singing. When it quiets again, Rauva says, “She makes me feel I could change. Choose to change, even. Not because of a tadpole or a cult—but just because I want to.”

“You want to change,” Wyll muses. He almost adds something to the effect of, yet you’re already perfect, but he knows it’ll come off flirty, and this feels inappropriate after Rauva’s admission about Shadowheart. “I know the feeling. I wasn’t always the Blade of Frontiers. And I wasn’t always… well, you know.”

This coaxes a smile out of Rauva. “I do think they suit you,” she says, nodding toward the horns. Wyll still hasn’t quite grown used to their weight. “This coming from someone generally distrusted based on their appearance.”

“Ah,” Wyll says. “All my complaining—I never considered. I apologize.”

Rauva laughs a little, shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry. I lived in Menzoberranzan for the first two-hundred years of my life. I remember the culture shock of suddenly being perceived as different. You’re going through the same thing.” She reaches out, a little awkwardly, and places a strong, calloused hand on Wyll’s shoulder. “Those whose opinion truly matters won’t care how you look. In fact, they will embrace it.”

Wyll looks down at his hands and smiles. It’s a fact he knows to be true, but it rings truer coming from someone like Rauva. He feels briefly embarrassed for having tried to flirt with her before. She’s well out of his league. “I’m lucky to have you as a friend,” he says, deeply earnest. Rauva just squeezes his shoulder and drops her hand, looking back out at the moonlit water.

Someone comes crashing through the brush behind them. “Come on, Rauva!” Karlach booms. Wyll doesn’t have to turn to recognize her voice. “I dared Gale to try cooking one of the artifacts before eating it, and the mad lad is actually going to do it!” Her crackling heat fills the small clearing as she steps closer. “You should come too, Wyll. I’ve got a pool going on whether he’ll love it or hurl.”

“Those are the only options?” Rauva muses, rising gracefully. She glances down at Wyll. He does feel better after talking to her, but he’s still not quite ready to go out and carouse. He waves nonchalantly at the two of them.

“Put me down for… ah, neither,” he says. “I don’t imagine he’ll enjoy it, though the man must have a strong stomach by now, eating all the orts Rauva drags back to camp for dinner.” Karlach bursts into laughter as they head back to the party.

“I’ll let him know what faith you have in him!” she calls.

Wyll smiles to himself and gazes back out at the water. He may not be in the mood for a celebration, but he won’t allow himself to sink into the pits of despair. Not yet.

#wyllweek #posting it all on here instead of linking to docs this time!#let me know which is better if you have an opinion #I know this will get a little less love because of the nature of original characters #but I really enjoy it so I hope at least a couple other people do too!#wyll #rauva #bg3 #fic #mine #my fic archive

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voxmortuus · 2 years ago

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Hello 👋 I’d like to request a Dom Bilquis x Male!Reader smut. Male!Reader is a New God who receives an unexpected visit from the Old Goddess who is craving worship, and not from a regular human…

Nonnie Bilquis Requester.... THANK YOU! You threw me for a loop and I thank you for this request!!!!! Sorry it took so long! I hope it finds you well.

►PAIRING: Dom!Bilquis X M!Reader ►UNIVERSE: American Gods ►WORDS: 1k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Domme Bilquis | Nothing but smut | Smut time language for body parts | Oral *Female Recipient* | Vaginal Penetration | Worship of Old Gods | Submissive-esque male | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist

It wasn't everyday a beautiful woman came knocking at your door, especially one such as Bilquis. She was radiant, as always, but today she was particularly delectable. She oozed of sex, lust, desire and want. Dressed in a beautiful shade of crimson red she had come knocking on your door. Without hesitation you let her in, she wasn't going to take no for an answer and that was clear when she looked at you. Her gaze warm and wanting. She was a woman, not a girl, not some floozy, this was one woman who could eat you alive and not think twice. She was a Goddess. One of age at that.

Closing your front door you turn and look at her. "And to what do I owe this visit...?" you ask.

"I want to be worshipped... I know who you are... I know what you are. I want to be worshipped by someone with power." She had stated. The words dripped off her lips like a sweet bite out of a juicy watermelon.

"You think I can do that?"

"Oh I know you can, and you will. Worship me Y/N. Show me what it feels like to be worshipped by a new god... Pleasure me with those wants and desires of being needed, desired, and craved. Worship me, Y/N." she stated with a sway in her hips as she approaches you and grips your shirt and presses you against he wall, feeling you against her she lets out a soft whimper. "Worship me." She whispers against your ear as she places her hand over your pants and begins to rub you to feel what she's got to work with.

Nodding with a stammering groan you close your eyes a moment before opening them to look at her. "Yes Ma'am..." you smirk.

"No, say my name. Say my name when you worship me." she demands.

"Yes, Bilquis." you smirk looking over her face.

"Good boy." she muses before she turns around and moves her hair for you to unzip her dress.

With a simple gesture, you move to unzip her dress, exposing her dark creamy chocolate skin. You run your hand down her back and then up, only to slid your hand down her side, feeling her curves with your hands. You whisper in her ear. "You are absolutely beautiful."

She smiles softly and looks over her shoulder. She looks around your apartment and looked back at you and beckoned for you. Walking further into your apartment she noticed your candles and smirked handing you a lighter off the dresser she tilted her head and licked her lips. "Light them in the name of me." She whispered softly as she climbed into your bed and leaned against the headboard slightly and spread her legs.

Looking over her, she looked so good you could devour her, sweet, with a slight tang, a beautiful combination of desire and harmony. The scent of her was intoxicating, and you were far from pushing her away, no you wanted this, especially deep down.

Once the candles are lit, you move to stand at the end of your bed and you watch her, licking your lips you feel your cock stiffen slightly. "Fuck." you smile she beckons you. Stripping down you release yourself feeling the freedom as you stiffen a bit more, rising as you stiffen. You climb into bed and approach her.

Leaning in you attempt to kiss her, but she stops you and looks over your face a moment, studying you before she leans in and kisses you. Slowly pulling back you begin to stroke yourself but she shakes her head. You stop, looking at her.

"Taste me..." She stated as her hips raise slightly and you smirk. Kissing her again, you work your way from breast to breast, gripping, touching ever so slightly, rubbing at her swollen clit. It wasn't long before your lips were kissing just above it.

In a matter of moments you were taking her sweet nectar into your mouth. Your tongue began to work like it's never worked before, lapping at her, drawing around her clit, her velvet like folds welcoming and sweet. She was ripe and sweet for the plucking and you were going to devour her. Your hands gripped at her thighs a moment before one hand slipped to your cock and began to stroke yourself, you wanted her to shake and quake before you dove right in.

Her moans were beautiful notes that danced off your walls. Her hand in your hair gripping as you lapped her up and suckled on her clit. With the hand that stroked your painfully hard cock you reached up and grabbed a breast giving it a firm grip an you feel her legs tremble her moans picking up at your quick paces, hearing her breathing get heavier, she watches you a moment before her head presses into the pillowy headboard.

Feeling that tremble you knew it was time, positioning yourself you slide right in with nothing but great ease. Wet, dripping and the way she felt around your cock was something you absolutely will never forget.

"Oh Bilquis, your feel so good." you praise.

She moans softly.

You think about it a moment, and the more you say her name, the louder her moans become. The lourder she had gotten, the lourder your groans had gotten in return.

As you thrust, she had massaged your cock with her wet velvet like walls, and the constriction and freedom of her slick core had felt something unworldly.

The aura of the room grew, it was like there was an audience, changing from the corners of the room, moaning that was beyond you two, the way you pleasured her, it pleasured you, the way you cried out for her in worship of who she was, there was a strong feeling behind it because of who you were. The power you both possessed danced in the room like a tango of seduction. It was the release of the goddess beneath you as you screamed her name that was the biggest reward.

Getting dressed she looks at you and smiles. "I'll be seeing you again real soon, Y/N. Maybe next time, I'll return the favor. Be a good boy, and make sure when you touch yourself, you do so in the name of me." She muses before she kisses the corner of your lips and steps out of your apartment, leaving you to mull over what just happened.

#bilquis x m!reader #bilquis x reader #domme bilquis #dom bilquis #bilquis #bilquis american gods #bilquis fanfiction #bilquis fanfic #bilquis smut #smutty smut smut #female x male reader #american gods #american gods fanfiction #american gods bilquis #american gods smut #bilquis gif #american gods gif #voxmortuus

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