#I live for plate armor

[tired-inyxe]

Everyone should dress like this

Man? Woman? Incomprehensible horror? PUT EM IN PLATE ARMOR

Plate armor is peak (don’t do that thing where you try to make plate armor sexy by barely covering someone tho, that’s horrific)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

it's hans trapp! from drawfee! hans trapp the straw crab!

[eulaliasims]

Veridia - introductions 2/2

The Blacksmith

You think you've seen Diseta Marsh somewhere before? No, you must be mistaken--there's definitely only one Diseta around here! (And that's probably for the best.) Between the smithy, the town guard, and acting as lawspeaker when Norweni is unavailable, she's got her finger in a lot of pies. In her limited spare time, Diseta enjoys music and telling her cat, Lu, she's the most beautiful cat in the world, yes she is!

(Fortune, 4/7/5/5/4)

Salter

Wulfric was widowed when his wife died giving birth to their twins, Glamaer and Gytha. Quiet and reclusive, he does his best to raise his son and daughter in their home on the bay. He's trying to teach the kids how to fish and harvest precious salt like he does, but some days keeping track of two six-year-olds takes more hours and twice as many hands than he has.

(Fortune, 5/2/8/3/7 | Grow Up, 8/8/2/3/4 | Grow Up, 2/8/2/6/7)

Shep's Homestead

Shep tends her garden alone for now and isn't in a hurry to change that. She has an eye to learning to make curmi—it would earn her so much money. As long as those Cerunnos' damned sheep across the road don't break out and chow down on her wheat seedlings again…

(Popularity, 2/8/4/6/7)

(yes, she is a fortune secondary lol)

Midwife

Helenet was apprenticed to a midwife in a nearby village, but after some family troubles and after the father of her son refused to acknowledge him and publicly (and loudly) rebuffed her, Helenet cursed the man, left, and sought out a new place in Veridia for herself and her son. She and Angus are settling in nicely.

(Popularity, 7/4/6/4/4 | Grow Up, 10/1/3/7/4)

??????

Arturo isn't a fae. The fae are arseholes. His ears just do that. The green? A witch did it. No, really. The, um, the antlers? Uh—oh, wow, look over there!

(Knowledge, 9/2/10/2/3)

[apathyandmischief]

A lot of people talk down on Ren Faire folk for the fact that a good grip of us are trained in some form of combat discipline

[fried-trash]

My three girlfriends And yes, they like fish.

[superiorsturgeon]

out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

[levanlanse]

♪ It's time for Fish Fact Friday! ♪

The sacabambaspis is an extinct jawless fish that lived more than 400 million years ago!

It is thought to have fed using the many oral plates lining its mouth, using them to create suction for feeding. Their bodies were also covered in armor plates and scales for protection.

The Natural History Museum of Helsinki has an adorable reconstruction of the fish, which this little doodle is based on. I really recommend checking it out if you haven't already seen it!

[skycowboys]

A bit of new art for the book :) I hadn't done "offical" or "polished" crevasus art before now (shockingly).

Crevasi (kreh-vah-sai) are a subterranean pegasus species who've adapted to live in the depths. Their wings have been repurposed as extra limbs and they create their own dim light by which to see. They have an extra set of eyes and grippy, multi-toed feet, and armored spine plates to protect from falling rocks.

--

Discord | Patreon

[revelboo]

Another day another happy happy session of reading all your work! Any updates on your knockout fic? I'm sure he's thinking of all the ways to get that human out of the scrapheap they call a home~

Sure!

My Favorite Accident Pt 4

TFP Knockout x Reader

• Hand lingering on the doorknob as you swing open your door and stop short because there’s a very shiny, very familiar red sports car sitting in the apartment parking lot idling. And a guy in a suit with red Oakley’s in the driver’s seat. Skin prickling at the holomatter avatar Knockout uses to hustle races, you stride across the dead lawn, aware of a new group of guys loitering and watching. They’re going to think you’re working as a hooker on the side now most likely as you bend and the driver’s side window rolls down before you can rap your knuckles on the glass. “You can’t park here. Someone’s going to try and steal you,” you mutter under your breath, looking anywhere but too closely at that creepy avatar.

• “Get in,” he growls, annoyance and lack of recharge making his tone sharp. One of the humans already well on his way to being over energized whistles as you go around to slide in the passenger side, pausing long enough to lift your arm, middle finger extended to raucous laughter from those watching. Sinking into his plush interior, you glance at his avatar and immediately away. “I can’t believe that’s where you live.” Wheels cutting, he accelerates as he turns to sling you back in the seat. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?”

• “I have to go to work. And I’m sorry, but no one asked you to stalk me or camp out at my home,” you growl right back, grabbing at the door’s molding to haul yourself up as he accelerates again. Mad for reasons you can’t even begin to understand. “Can you have your tantrum or whatever without me in the car- er, you?” Ugh. That horrible avatar’s head turns slowly to stare at you. “Please don’t do that, your head shouldn’t turn that far.”

• “How is it you manage to win and get paid and still live like that?” Tires squealing as he turns sharply onto the service road, heading for drainage canal. Broad daylight or not, you’re going to talk to him face to face. “And the avatar is fine.” Engine snarling as you uh huh him while holding up a hand between your line of sight and his avatar. Sliding to a stop, he throws open the door and leans on his shocks in a threat to dump you until you get out so he can transform. Making a show of checking his armor plating for finger prints.

• Arms crossed over your chest you watch him plant his hands on his hips and glare at you. Like it’s a personal slight against him that you live like that. Why does he even care? And it’s not like you’re not embarrassed about it yourself, but he doesn’t understand being human. Or money apparently. “You think I like living there? It’s what I can afford.” Fingers digging into your upper arm until your nails leave little crescents, you bounce a heel. Aggravated, but unwilling to cower in front of his anger, knowing it’s mostly bluster. “So, can you at least drive me to work so I’m not late?” You ask, temper fizzling as his optics narrow.

• “Work?” For some reason, he’s sure that he’s going to like this even less than where you live. But as you just smile up at him with those big eyes, he finds himself transforming and throwing open the driver’s door for you to slide in. “Why not? Let’s get all the horrors front and center,” he mutters as you fidget with his seatbelt and then lay an incredibly soft hand on his wheel and wrap the other around the shifter. “Don’t touch anything,” he snarls, shuddering as you tear your hands away like you’ve been burned. Not liking the way those hands feel on his interior or the warmth of you inside him. Not liking that he doesn’t dislike the sensations.

Previous

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[fangdokja]

In his eyes, your defiance isn’t strength—it’s foreplay.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Isekai! Knight x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanons. #1

♡ Word Count. 997

The dungeon was a living thing, breathing in tandem with the damp air and the rot that festered in its corners. Water dripped from unseen cracks in the ceiling, each droplet marking time’s cruel, endless march. The darkness was thick—a suffocating void where shadows twisted, forming grotesque shapes in your periphery. But none of it compared to the terror clawing at your chest when the sound of his boots began to echo against the stone.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

His approach was slow, deliberate—a predator playing with its prey, savoring each step as he closed the distance. You’d learned to read him through that sound alone: the way his mood colored the rhythm, faster when he was angry, slower when something darker churned beneath the surface. Tonight, the steps were unhurried, the pauses between them drawn-out, and that sent a cold dread unfurling in your stomach.

The iron door screamed in protest as it opened, and there he stood. Torchlight crawled over him, casting jagged shadows that exaggerated his already menacing form. The dark plate armor that encased him gleamed faintly, stained in streaks of dried crimson. Blood—fresh enough to reek. His gloved hands were dark and wet with whatever life he’d extinguished before coming here. The sight alone turned your insides to ice.

“Still so quiet, little mouse,” he drawled, his voice a slow, syrupy taunt. It curled around you like smoke, inescapable. “No cries? No scurrying? Have you finally learned your place?”

“Little mouse.” The moniker stung. He’d given it to you after the hunt—days spent running, hiding, clawing for freedom through unfamiliar woods, only for him to find you anyway. Then, he’d spoken it with amused frustration, as though you were nothing but a challenge to be conquered. Now, it dripped with something worse: affection.

You didn’t respond. You kept your head down, gaze fixed on the cracked stone floor beneath you, your body stiff, your hands clenched into fists in your lap. Defiance was dangerous, but submission was worse. Silence had become your only shield.

He sighed, low and almost theatrical, and crossed the room with that same measured ease. The heavy cloak trailing behind him dragged across the filthy floor, but it was the sound of him kneeling that made your pulse spike. A gauntlet found your chin, cold and unrelenting as it tilted your face upward.

“Look at me.”

You kept your eyes down, fixed on his chest plate instead. That earned you a smile—a slow, humorless thing that did nothing to soften his sharp features.

The wall cracked beside you as his other hand slammed into it, the force reverberating through your body. Your breath hitched, but still, you refused to meet his eyes.

“I said,” his voice dropped lower, rough with warning, “look at me.”

Reluctantly, you obeyed, dragging your gaze upward until it met his. His eyes glowed in the dim torchlight, a shade of smoldering amber that seemed to see straight through you. A faint scar bisected his jaw, catching the light, only serving to amplify the cold menace etched into his expression. The smile that followed was almost tender, and that frightened you more than anything else.

“There you are,” he murmured, as though he’d just found something precious. His fingers trailed down your cheek, leaving a chill in their wake. “Why must you make this so difficult? I’ve been so gentle with you.”

Gentle. The word curled in your stomach like spoiled food. You’d seen his version of ‘gentle’—chains that bit into your skin, meals drugged just enough to rob you of strength, whispers that dismantled your resolve piece by piece. There was nothing kind about his hands, and you despised that you’d begun to flinch when they moved.

“I brought you a gift,” he said suddenly, as if announcing a grand surprise. Reaching behind him, he pulled something wrapped in cloth and unfurled it at your feet. The bundle hit the ground with a sickening thud, its contents rolling free: a severed hand, pale and twitching, fingers curled in death’s final spasm.

You recoiled, bile rising as the smell hit you.

“He was skulking near the wall,” he explained, as casually as if he were discussing the weather. “A rat with foolish ideas of taking what’s mine.” His eyes locked onto yours, unblinking. “You see, little mouse? This is what happens to those who try. I won’t allow anyone to steal you from me. Ever.”

The word was soft—almost tender—but its weight crushed you. You didn’t speak, couldn’t, but he noticed the way your lips trembled. His smile faltered, his grip returning to your face with enough force to make you wince.

“Say thank you,” he ordered, his voice still quiet, but far sharper now. “For keeping you safe.”

It was a choice between words and consequences—one you’d faced too many times. Shaking, you forced the words out, a broken whisper.

“T-thank you.”

Satisfaction bled into his features, and his grip loosened, though it left behind the sting of bruises. “Good girl,” he said, voice velvety with approval. “You see how much I care for you? No one else can keep you safe. Not like I can.”

The hand lay beside you, still and silent now, the fingers splayed like some obscene offering. Your eyes flicked back to him, unable to hide the fear he drank in so greedily.

“Remember that, little mouse,” he whispered, leaning closer until his breath skimmed your ear. “No matter how far you run, no matter how hard you fight, you’ll always belong to me.”

And then he was gone, the door slamming shut, its echo sealing you back into the dark. You sat motionless, heart hammering as the silence crept back in. The severed hand lay inches away, a macabre reminder of his promise—one that choked the last flickers of hope out of you.

Because he was right.

Where could you possibly go?

[syn0vial]

saw a delightful post about how the dent in boba fett's helmet probably indicates that his armor isn't 100% beskar, and one of the conclusions the post draws it that din djarin's armor is almost certainly better/more expensive than boba's. i want to say that this is even more the case if we're comparing din to expanded universe boba, whose armor is 100% durasteel. no beskar in that bad boy at all. it's literally the shittiest mando armor money can buy and when boba becomes mand'alor, his mandalorian friends basically corner him and block the door until he lets them swap it out for actual beskar.

no concrete explanation is given for why EU!boba buries his father's armor plates (which presumably contained at least some actual beskar) instead of just using them himself, but my personal headcanon is a combination of:

he doesn't feel worthy of wearing his father's armor

shitty durasteel armor was all he could afford when he was a teenager, which appears to be when he started wearing his trademark durasteel plates

he just likes having armor that shows battle damage. medrit, his armor-smith friend, even teases him about this, saying he can paint scuffs and dents onto his new beskar armor if boba would like.

related to the above: every single dent and scar on his armor is like a little message to the outside world saying, "i lived, bitch," and fett's reluctant to give that up :`D

[ashtheketchum]

● Some revenge ●

Daryl Dixon X fem.Reader

Era: Season 11, Commonwealth

Summary: The neighbors in your new home are way too loud. So you and Daryl got revenge. Warnings: +18 CONTENT, , FEM.Reader, unprotected sex, doggy style, handjob, dirty talk, spanking, petnames (like Baby and Babe)

Words: 2.4k

Masterlist!

_________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

We had been living in the Commonwealth for a while now and Daryl and I already had jobs too. While Daryl worked with the other soldiers, I had to work at a bookstore. Although I wanted to work with Daryl, Hornsby said I would be better off with a quieter job. It annoyed me, but I accepted it and worked in that store from morning to night. Sometimes Judith and RJ came by to keep me company, but whenever I saw them, I saw tired faces. And I also knew the reason why.

Although we lived in a small apartment, the walls were incredibly thin so you could hear everything. And the neighbors weren't particularly quiet.They talked way too loudly, had parties, or listened to loud music. And it didn't seem to bother anyone else, because when Daryl and I went to complain, all we got was the statement that the problem would be resolved soon. And that was quite a while ago.

So I sit tiredly in my chair, reading a book while I come up with a plan to solve this problem. Daryl had often suggested solving it in his way, but luckily I was always able to stop him. But then an idea came to me. The city knew that I had been with Daryl for several years now and I wanted to take advantage of that. The knowledge alone didn't even make many men think about looking at me askance. So with a slight feeling of happiness, I finished my work a little earlier and prepared everything for my plan. To do this, I picked up Judith and RJ from school and I made sure that they both slept somewhere other than in our apartment. And after that, I had to discuss everything with Daryl.

That same day I got the apartment ready, I got the bed ready, I put on provocative underwear and I also prepared some food. Of course I still had my pants and shirt on over my underwear, but I was still a little happy. It was becoming increasingly rare that Daryl and I had sex, but whenever we did, it was incredibly good. While I was preparing the meal, I heard the neighbors, who could never be quiet, enter their apartment and prepare everything for a loud evening. But I would be faster and hopefully it would be a little quieter. Daryl would even come home a little early. "Then let's start the plan..." I muttered quietly to myself before I heard our door unlock and Daryl step inside. "I´m back." He just grumbled loudly.

I walked up to him and hugged him tightly, a big smile on my lips. “Hey... How was your day?" I asked as I gave him a kiss on the cheek. Daryl just hummed quietly before resting his head on my shoulder. This was enough of an answer for me and I ran my fingers through his hair. He seemed very tired, I almost wanted to ditch the idea so he could rest. But I could hardly open my mouth before we heard the neighbors laughing loudly. Daryl and I both growled in annoyance before we separated and I went back into the kitchen while Daryl took off his shoes. "Where are Judith and RJ?” He asked as I spread our food onto our plates. "I sent them both somewhere else for the night, to friends' houses to be exact." "Oh? Why’s tha´?” I heard him ask and the next moment I heard his armor being stripped off.

I bit my bottom lip uncertainly before turning to look at him. Daryl only had on his black pants and his black sweater, which he always wore under his armor. The material was a little tighter to his skin than his other clothes, which is why I could see his slight muscles. I unconsciously licked my lips as I studied him. The archer noticed this, of course, and hummed briefly in amusement. He slowly walked towards me until he was standing in front of me, resting his hands behind me on the kitchen counter. “Ya have anythin´ special planned, woman?” His voice seemed a little deeper than it actually was and I had to grin slightly. "Yes… I wanted to take care of the neighbors… and I need your help for that…" My voice also became a little quieter, more passionate and Daryl growled softly.

My eyes filled with lust and I slowly moved my hand up his chest. “What’s on yar mind?” Before I answered his question, I pressed my lips firmly against his. Immediately the archer growled and he wrapped his arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him even closer to me. Our lips moved against each other in a quick rhythm until I let my tongue roam his bottom lip. He immediately reciprocated my action by licking my lower lip and then sliding his tongue into my mouth. My tongue immediately received his and I moaned loudly against his lips. His hands moved lower and lower until they were on my ass. He pinched it gently once, making me whimper and jump up immediately. His strong arms immediately went under my thighs and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

Our pelvises were now rubbing right against each other and I rolled my hips against his to feel some pressure against my pussy. “Greedy~?” His voice resembled a purr and I hummed loudly. We broke apart briefly to take a breath and looked deeply into each other's eyes. His hands started massaging my butt and I started kissing his neck. I felt Daryl slowly move and in the next few seconds I was lying on our soft bed. Sadly our bedroom was right next to our neighbors living room, but now it couldn't have been better positioned.

Daryl pressed a gentle kiss to my lips before sitting up and wrapping my legs around his waist again. His fingers ran under my shirt and he slowly pushed it up until he could see my stomach. Grumbling, Daryl leaned down and kissed my stomach gently, his stubble tickling my skin a little, making me giggle softly. While he covered my skin with kisses, his fingers pushed my shirt further and further up until my breasts were now exposed. I wore a black bra that was very simple in design. It wasn't anything exciting, but at a time when you had to fight for your own survival and therefore only wore sports bras, this bra was very sexy. “God, ya look good~…” Daryl growled quietly as his gaze went up. I smiled slightly as his kisses continued upward until his lips brushed over my bra.

My nipples were already hard, but you couldn't see them through the bra. Daryl probably had the same thought I had because the next moment he took off my shirt completely and then let his hands go to the straps of the bra. “May I?” "Of course…" And with those words, he slowly pulled the straps from my arms. The thin material gave me goosebumps and I sighed loudly as Daryl opened the clip on my bra and finally took it off. He simply threw both on the floor and didn't give the material any further thought. He then did the same with my pants and panties. He kissed my clit briefly before sitting up again.

He slowly took off his shirt, his strong chest and his scars slowly becoming visible. Daryl had told me about his life back then, what his father had done to him and what he had to go through. I was sorry, but I also wanted to show him that he could feel safe and comfortable with me. Although it took a really long time, his fear gradually subsided and he now even dared to take a shower with me. “You’re perfect…” I murmured, my eyes all dreamy as I looked at his chest. I slowly ran my fingertips over his skin, over his nipples and then over his scar. The archer shuddered briefly before pushing me back down and pressing his face between my breasts.

He sucked greedily on my skin and licked it too. With his rough fingers he massaged my nipples, making me inhale sharply. I arched my back and I felt Daryl rub his pelvis against mine. A noticeable bulge was slowly forming in his pants and the bigger it got, the faster his movements against my pelvis became. My breathing became louder and louder, I had completely blocked out the noises of the neighbors. "God Daryl~…" "I know, baby~…" His voice made me gasp and I felt him slowly pull away from me. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his member, it was already rock hard and a few drops of pre-cum flowed down his shaft. "So hard for ya…~"

I slowly sat up and kissed his stomach gently. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and moved my hand up and down. Daryl gasped softly as I squeezed hard a few times. I spread his pre-cum onto his shaft before he pushed me away and pressed his lips to mine again. Groaning, I closed my eyes, but before I could respond to his kiss, he pulled away from me again. “Turn aroun’~” He didn't even wait but grabbed my waist and turned me onto my stomach before giving my ass a slap. I whimpered loudly as I felt Daryl lift my hips. I laid my upper body on the mattress and turned my face slightly to the side so that I could still breathe.

“Ya wan’ tha’?” Daryl asked, his voice growling. His cock rose against my entrance and I just whimpered loudly. I confirmed his question with a nod and moved my pelvis further against him. He slapped my ass again, making me moan louder this time. I could be loud, shout, moan loudly. It was pretty unusual, but finally being able to do it felt really good. “Yes~! I want you inside me, Daryl! Please!” I then whimpered loudly. Daryl growled briefly again before slowly pushing himself into me.

His cock stretched my inner walls hard, making us both whimper and growl loudly. You could tell we hadn't had sex in a long time, my pussy was incredibly tight and Daryl's breathing was very fast. Just like mine. “God, ya feel good~…” Daryl purred loudly before slapping my ass again. Panting loudly, I gripped the bed sheet tightly while Daryl finally pulled back a little, only to then press himself completely back into me. He thrust into me again and again, our skin slapped against each other loudly, but our voices drowned out the slapping noises. “So good!” I screamed loudly. I could only faintly hear the neighbors murmuring something, but I ignored it and enjoyed the fullness that Daryl gave me. God, we have to fuck more often again.

Daryl moved his hips harder and harder against mine, his hands gripping my hips or waist tightly. Sometimes he would massage my ass, then he would caress my sides, and then he would slap my ass again. He kept this process for quite a while and he made me see stars with it. My eyes rolled back as his tip hit my special spot and I moaned his name loudly. “God, Daryl~…! Yes, fuck~!” “Ya like tha´?… yeh, ya like tha´, baby~” Suddenly his hand was between my shoulder blades and he pushed my upper body a little further down. He lightly pressed my face into the pillow and I screamed loudly into it. But Daryl didn't seem to like the fact that my voice was now much muffled, so he pulled me back up so that my back was pressed against his chest.

"I wan' ya, ta scream loud an' nice, 'kay?" He growled softly in my ear and I breathed faster and faster. I felt a little dizzy from my rapid breathing and Daryl's thrusts. He now buried his face into my shoulder, his right hand went to my breast, which he massaged roughly, and his left hand went to my clit. He massaged my clit in circular motions, just as he swirled his finger around my nipple. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum~…!” I screamed loudly. Daryl just growled loudly before I felt him bite my skin lightly. He wouldn't leave a mark, but it was enough to make me whimper. “Good~…cum aroun’ ma cock, yah?” He then growled in my ear.

His voice gave me goosebumps and I nodded quickly again. The pressure in my abdomen increased and my vision slowly became black. I felt that Daryl's thrusts were becoming more and more irregular and his cock was also throbbing harder inside me. Before I could do anything I came around his shaft and I screamed his name loudly. As loud as I was screaming, the entire house probably heard us, but we didn't care at the moment. “Fuck~…! Yes, jus’ like tha’…” After Daryl said this he pulled out of me and he flipped me over. He gently pushed me back into bed and he kissed my lips briefly. As he pulled away from me, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and he moved them quickly down on us. He put his face between my breasts and he breathed in my scent deeply. The archer growled loudly once before I felt his hot cum on my skin. He sprayed on my stomach and some hit my breasts too.

Breathing heavily, he began kissing my skin as I also tried to get my breathing back under control. “God, that was good…!” I then uttered, with a slight giggle. Daryl just snorted briefly before sitting up and looking at my body. The archer remained silent for a moment before he got up and put his boxershorts back on properly and then got some towels. He gently wiped his cum from my skin before throwing away the towels and placing a kiss on my forehead. “Now the neighbors stay quiet… and if not…” Daryl didn't have to continue, I understood what he meant. A wide grin crept onto my lips before I nodded slightly and gently pressed his lips to mine.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Idea for a angsty and hurt/comfort-y scenario

Firefly and Kafka with a mecha pilot!s/o... but with a twist.

Rather than the mech suit being (essentially) a Gundam from the hit anime franchise "Mobile Suit Gundam, it's more like a Dreadnought from Warhammer 40k, a machine that keeps their mangled for just barely alive. Maybe in this scenario, Firefly and Kafka are seeing S/O directly for them first time since they'd met.

(H:SR) Firefly and Kafka's S/O's body being trapped in a machine

"I would have liked to see the skies of Baal one last time..."

Firefly, to some extent, knew what it was like to be kept on life support by a machine.

Even though it kept her alive and able to move, constant use of her armor was already draining what time she had left remaining.

And she joined the Stellaron Hunters to fight that fate.

When she met S/O for the first time; she had assumed they just kept their armor on to keep their identity secret like her.

Though to Firefly's horror, she soon learned that was not the case at all.

Their mech was massive, more akin to a metal box with stubby legs, a gatling cannon and a claw arm strapped to the sides.

She had asked before what they looked like underneath the suit, but she had never gotten a definitive answer, either usually being brushed off or told "I'd rather not show you."

But on a quiet night with the two of them overlooking the hills and into the stars, Firefly sat with the mech in silence.

And now, she wanted to ask again.

(Firefly) "S/O...if it's alright for me to ask, why do you not want to show yourself to me?"

S/O remained silent, not even a whir or hiss of their servos responded.

(Firefly) "If you're worried about how I'd react, I'll still love you the same no matter what."

After a brief moment, S/O finally answered.

(S/O) "...This is not only a vehicle for me, Firefly...It is also my tomb."

The way they had uttered the last phrase, it sent a shiver up her spine, making her turn fully towards them.

(Firefly) "A life support system?"

(S/O) "Yes. And...there is not much left of me to see."

(Firefly) "...Even so, I still want to see you."

S/O didn't bother moving, as it would cause too much noise. Instead, Firefly walked toward the front of their machine, where a sarcophagus-like structure laid in the center.

And with a click and hiss, the sarcophagus opened, Firefly's hands covering her mouth on instinct.

All she could see was a single heart beating, connected to several wires that lead to Aeons knows where.

Though the heart wasn't completely exposed to the elements as it had a layer of what looked like glass in front of the components.

And now, S/O's voice was unobstructed by machine, hearing their voice echo so much clearer.

(S/O) "It's...been so long since I've felt the cold..."

Firefly walked slowly up near the open sarcophagus, resting her hand on the metal plates that laid next to the center.

She had a tear running down her cheek, but she couldn't find the words to express her grief for them.

Thankfully, it wasn't needed.

S/O's claw arm lifted slowly up, letting Firefly rest her hand on it, while looking directly at their heart one last time before it closed.

(Firefly) "How do you...?-"

(S/O) "Cope with it? I don't...Rather, I didn't. Before I met you...I was in stasis whenever I wasn't active, only awakened to fight."

Firefly let her hand grab one of the fingers, the intimate gesture not lost on S/O as the machine made an audible click to lean further into her hold.

(S/O) "Elio promised me that I'd be able to walk and live again outside this machine...until then...I have you. And I won't let you die either, Firefly."

Firefly smiled at that, looking back up to the sky with renewed hope. But before she leaned back into them like a makeshift bench, she looked where their heart was covered directly.

(Firefly) "...Thank you for showing me the real you."

Kafka didn't know what fear was. Rather, she didn't know how it felt.

She knew she caused it in others, but couldn't grasp on how it personally felt.

But everytime she thought about what S/O was in, it gave her at least a little semblance of what it'd be like.

Firefly's situation was already horrid enough with the Entropy Syndrome, S/O's seemed to be somehow worse much to her disbelief.

Upon first recruiting S/O to the Stellaron Hunters, she thought they just liked to pilot the hulking mech, not that they were one. Much less that they had been alive for centuries within the machine.

Though she liked to tease and bicker with her colleagues, she was always a little softer on S/O, as was everyone else.

(Kafka) "Rise and shine, old one."

S/O's visor on the sarcophagus blinked to life as the mech's limbs slowly twitched before whirring alive.

(S/O) "...I suppose waking me up for something pleasant for once is out of the question."

(Kafka) "Sorry, need ya on this mission."

(S/O) "And what mess have you gotten yourselves into this time?"

Kafka simply let out a sultry chuckle.

(Kafka) "One that if you take care of, I'll treat you to something nice."

Kafka made it a point to not ask what they had looked like underneath the machine.

If they wanted to do it, they'd have done it by now considering they had been with them long enough for the Trailblazer to have joined and then since left the group.

More importantly, she could hear the sorrow in their voice. Like Blade, she could tell when someone lamented being alive.

And yet one quiet evening, she finally got one of her questions answered, what did they look like?

Kafka's eyes slightly widened at the heart that was beating before her. That and the machine was all that remained of her lover.

(Kafka) "Well...you weren't lying when you said there wasn't much left."

Her tone became much softer as one finger dragged down the metal plate near the sarcophagus, stopping at the same level as their heart.

(Kafka) "Guess that also explains why you always asked us to put you to sleep...Yet you stopped."

(S/O) "No point. I've spent a long while trying to avoid it, and with Elio's goals, I'm only needed more and more."

Kafka's finger tapped against their mechanical body before resting her palm against them.

(Kafka) "Could go off script for a little. I'm sure we can find some mad genius to get you a proper body back."

S/O's mechanical chuckle echoed throughout the room.

(S/O) "Were it so easy."

Kafka's hand pulled back as she sat on their arm, giving S/O a more genuine smile than her usual one.

(Kafka) "First chance we get? We'll get you one, script or not."

(S/O) "...Thank you, Kafka."

Their voice became shaky, even though they were almost entirely machine, S/O never seemed more vulnerable than now as one of the claw arm's fingers trembled.

Whether that was just a machine glitch or S/O's emotion coming through, Kafka didn't care.

She still held onto it, giving one last smile before stepping away.

(Kafka) "Gotta say: I like this side of you too."

[kcrossvine-art]

hi friends! This recipe/review was delayed at first from- well it was a different recipe originally, technically bat tempura should be the next item but id like my first tasting experience of bat to be made by someone else who knows what bat should taste like. The recipe after bat tempura is living armor and id intended to use geoduck to mimic the scale. Living armor is interesting with dunmeshi as they used the suit of armor in 3 different ways; grilling, steaming, and souping.

Affording geoduck, a PNW delicacy, is a stretch for one dish, let alone 3. With my write-ups id like to offer a chance that readers will actually be able to make what we talk about. So I opted to use regular clams instead. I feel myself above the fire so we're still sticking with one dish, the dish that doesnt require a grill or a helmet-esque plating arrangement.

Today in our delicious dungeon, we're going to be making Living Armor Soup!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into Living Armor Soup?” YOU MIGHT ASKThe ingredients used in the show didnt give much to work on, quoting "medicinal herb" and "special sauce".

1 lbs Mussels

Shallots

Garlic

Bay leaf

Curry powder

Chicken stock

Cream

Eggs

Its important to use cream as your dairy, the higher fat content gives you leeway with boiling and acidity to avoid curdling. Any cream should do. Still bring it to temp gently but rest assured in the moo moos protection. 

AND, “what does Living Armor Soup taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

A smoother, buttery-er cream of chicken soup

The mussel meat itself feels like a simplified version of chicken hearts- structurally and in taste

Its not bad. You could hard sell it to a picky eater 

Green onions would bring crispier top-notes much needed

And maybe building a roux base for the soup would fill out the low end?

I dont know what drinks would pair well with this. My heart wants to say red wine but im not a grape fan and cant get more specific than that

I think the hassle of procuring seafood is why when i ask my friends their opinions, the responses are middling to negative. You cant build a palate for it if you dont eat it enough. If i'd had fish stock i wouldve used that rather than chicken, while it doesnt turn the soup disgusting or make itself known much at all, awareness of its presence draws unfavorable comparisons to food I'd rather be eating. And eating for cheaper too (...besides the chicken hearts).

. Some mussels out of a bunch will inevitably be DOA, you wont be eating exactly a pound of them. This and waterweight are the nature of seafood. . Lay easy on the salt until the end before serving . If you have enough mussel stock left after straining, you might not need additional stock

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From deciding to cook to sitting and eating, the process took about an hour and a half. Not bad but not great, considering this dinner left me feeling full for all of about an hour after.

And the mussels were mostly usable/alive too! I discarded maybe 3 of the whole pound! Sure seafood can be light eating- youd think the dairy and vegetables would hulk it up more. The science of what makes food filling isnt entirely understood, as is most nutrition and gastro science, so i dont know what to blame. Stunning that 1lbs of mussels was not enough to keep a 110lbs person full for an hour.

If i were to make this again, i would serve it with fresh dinner rolls (or another carb). Breads and seafood are joined at the hip in my mind. You want more delicate tastes from your fish? I got just the thing. An entire family of food with varying flavors and textures that just so happen to all work pretty well with the third thing people eat often with seafood; butter.

I give this recipe a solid 4/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) It needs workshopping beyond being recognizable to the show.

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 lbs mussels, cleaned and de-bearded

Butter

3 shallots, finely diced

3 garlic cloves, crushed

2 bay leaf

Curry powder to taste

120g chicken stock

100g heavy cream

2 eggs

Method:

Wash your mussels. Remove any beards and barnacles. Discard any mussels with open shells.

Finely dice your shallots and garlic.

In a saucepan, brown your shallots and garlic in some butter over medium-low heat. Once softened add your stock, bay leaves, and curry powder to the saucepan. Increase the heat to medium.

Add your cleaned mussles to the saucepan, the liquid should cover them but if not add more stock. Bring to a boil, and then cover and reduce to a simmer.

Keep simmering until most/all of the mussel shells open. Discard any that still havent after about 6 minutes of simmering. Set aside the remaining mussels.

Pass the liquid in your saucepan through a strainer and return the liquid into the saucepan.

In a seperate bowl, combine the eggs and cream together. Carefully stir the egg/cream mixture into the saucepan until incorporated.

Remove the meat from the mussels, either discard or save some shells for garnishing.

Place the mussel meat on the bottom of serving bowls and pour the hot broth overtop, add your garnish (if any) and enjoy!

[mountainofgoats]

Crawl Home to Her

(Or, Caitlyn and Vi gear up for battle.)

(Or or, this viewer felt robbed of a tender moment between them and decided to write it.)

TIME: Hours before the first shot is fired

LOCATION: Piltover's Council Chambers, lower levels, the Armory

Caitlyn walks into the armory to see Vi holding up and appraising the black and gold chest plate. Her face is screwed up with disgust, like it’s something particularly nasty she’d found under her boot.

“Not your style?” Caitlyn teases from the doorway.

Vi’s eyes dart up to Caitlyn’s and she pouts. “Hell no. Look at it.” She holds the offending chest plate an inch higher. “It’s bulkier than the gauntlets. How the fuck is anyone supposed to move in this?”

Her petulant tone pulls Caitlyn’s lips into a tiny smile. “Not a problem for most people. Though most people don’t move like you, do they?”

Vi smirks. “That’s right." She shrugs a shoulder. "One of a kind.”

Caitlyn moves closer as she speaks. Vi watches her, and the mirth in her eyes dims by degrees as she approaches.

A veneer, Caitlyn knows. A wall against the same nerves and dread that keeps the smile from truly spreading across her own face.

How many times has Vi had to put on a brave face? Stuff her own fear down so deep she hardly feels it for the sake of bolstering the people around her?

Caitlyn reaches out a hand, runs a fingertip lightly against the metal of the armor. “I suppose you don’t have to wear it if you think it will… slow you down,” she says. She stares at the armor. Swallows thickly. “But it’ll help if… I don’t want you to wish you had it if-“

Her voice dies in a rasp. She swallows, tries to dislodge the lump in her throat. Doesn’t work.

Vi’s hand lands gently on her wrist, giving a squeeze. She looks up, and Vi offers a fragile smile.

She hefts the armor a smidge higher. Soft as morning sunlight, she whispers, “Gonna help me out, cupcake?”

Caitlyn half laughs, half sobs, suddenly thrust back into a dark alley a lifetime ago, the smell of gunfire and blood thick in her nose. Back when her biggest problem was hauling an injured undercity menace through the depths of the fissures.

God, how young and stupid they were back then.

She takes the armor from Vi’s hands. So carefully, she guides Vi into it, tightens the leather around her shoulders. Vi watches her silently as she drifts her hands down to her sides, skims her fingers lightly over the wound under her tank top. Caitlyn breathes deep and lets her palm press on the spot, feels the bandages underneath cloth. She holds there, breathes out slow. She swallows, then cinches the leather into place.

She drifts to the other side. Her fingers drag softly against Vi’s waist as she goes. Vi’s eyes follow her as she tightens the other strap so her armor sits squarely and securely over her chest.

One more buckle sits at Vi’s back. Dragging her hands along Vi’s shoulders, Caitlyn moves until she’s standing behind her, so close her breath moves the hair on the back of Vi’s head. She tightens the leather, buckles it into place so it sits flush against Vi’s back. She brushes red hair away from Vi’s neck, skims her fingers over the gears sitting proud and stark against her skin.

A shudder cascades across those broad shoulders and down her back. Caitlyn leans in and presses a kiss, feather-light, against the back of Vi’s neck. She leans there, eyes closed, breathing, fighting the lump in her throat and the nearly animalistic urge to take Vi by the hand and run.

They can’t. Even if there was somewhere to go, anywhere safe, neither of them could live with that.

She breathes out, presses one more greedy kiss to the back of Vi’s head, and moves back to her front. Vi takes a step closer, her hands curling around Caitlyn’s waist as Caitlyn fusses with her shoulder straps. She knows they’re fine, they’re tight and straight and it will protect the precious heart beneath the metal.

Her hands linger anyway.

Vi lets her fuss for a moment, then callused fingers intertwine with Caitlyn’s and gently move her hands away from her shoulders. “Think you got it, hotshot,” Vi murmurs.

Caitlyn huffs wetly and nudges the tip of Vi’s boot with her own. “How would you know? You’ve never worn armor before.”

“I don’t. But we’ll miss the whole thing at this rate if you keep messing with it.”

Would that be so awful? Caitlyn doesn’t say it.

Vi looks at her like she knows though. All soft, sad blue eyes and a barely there squeeze of her fingers. “It’s your turn now,” she says. She lets go of Caitlyn’s hands to turn and grab another chest plate from the wall. Buckles clink and leather creaks as she holds it up, a silent plea in her eyes.

Caitlyn nods, and Vi repeats their slow dance from before- gently settling the metal over Caitlyn’s chest, tightening straps and making sure it all sits straight and true. She brushes light fingers over the skin of Caitlyn’s neck, over the fabric covering her sides and shoulders, anywhere not concealed by black metal.

She stands so close to Caitlyn’s back that she can barely maneuver the straps into the buckle properly. When she fumbles a second time and breathes a tiny huff of frustration against Caitlyn’s neck, Caitlyn chuckles softly. “Having trouble?”

VI’s hands pause for a split second. Then she’s poking Caitlyn’s lower back. “Shut up,” she breathes. Her voice is a warm rasp of amusement. Caitlyn’s eyes slip closed and she soaks it in, a starving plant suddenly thrust into the sunlight.

Vi finally slips the buckle into place and the armor sits sturdy across Caitlyn’s chest and shoulders. But Vi doesn’t move. She leans against Caitlyn’s back, her arms loop around her waist, and she pulls Caitlyn against her chest. Her face nuzzles into the crease of Caitlyn’s neck and shoulder, and she takes a long, slow breath.

Caitlyn grips Vi’s forearms and leans back into her. Vi’s armor digs uncomfortably into her back, but she can’t let go. Can’t bring herself to do anything but lean and hold on wish they could somehow fuse together. Stay warm and safe and surrounded by one another.

Fuck the plan, she wants to say. Fuck all of it. Please, we have to stay together. We’ll be fine if we just stay together.

We’re always better when we’re together.

“We’re gonna be fine.” The words are breathed against Caitlyn’s neck. Warm. Shaky. Almost too quiet to hear.

Almost like they weren’t even meant for Caitlyn at all.

Caitlyn turns in the circle of Vi’s arms. When Vi looks up at her, the raw desperation in her eyes nearly brings Caitlyn to her knees.

God, she wants to run. If only to chase that look off Vi’s face.

She cups Vi’s face, rubs her thumbs over her cheekbones, over the tattoo. She curls her fingers into the baby hairs on the back of her head. Vi leans into her touch, eyes fluttering, hands gripping onto her waist.

Caitlyn presses her forehead to Vi’s and closes her eyes. She sinks into her, breathes into her.

We’re meant to lose this fight.

She could never forgive herself if she comforted Vi with a lie right now.

She takes a deep breath and presses a long kiss to Vi’s forehead. A soft whimper chokes out of her and she clutches at Caitlyn’s waist.

“Please, Cait,” she whispers.

Caitlyn pulls back just enough to look at her. To brush away the tears running down her cheeks. She holds her and says the only thing she knows down to her bones to be true.

“I promise to do everything in my power to come back to you.” When Vi sucks in a ragged, wet breath, Caitlyn presses their foreheads together fiercely. “Vi, I promise. I promise.”

[darknessisafriend]

Everything will be okay - Commodus x you

Here's some Commodus piece! right in time as Gladiator II is out. I started writing this imagine a while ago, in August which was a particularly rough time where I lost my grandpa, I needed to write about it, but it took time, time to start grieving as well. (so obviously TW death)

I dedicate this writing to my grandpa and anyone who faced or is facing the hardship of losing a loved one. Everything will be okay loves ❤️

Everything will be okay

You were taking care of flowers in the imperial garden; you had chased slaves and gardeners wanting to help you out. Your face was puffy and red, your eyes swollen and a headache splitting your skull. You were trying to keep your mind distracted, away from the brutal shock of the news, the pain filling your whole being. The blank state of your mind was soon interrupted by a rumbling of armors and quick steps, your heartbeat quickening, you knew who it was.

“Leave!” ordered the voice of Commodus, your husband, making any person leave the gardens, even his praetorians. Before you turned around his strong arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You clenched your jaw, feeling your heart going wilder, your eyes turning watery, unable to say anything, you bit your trembling lower lip.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” he breathed, pain filled his voice too, as if anything that affected you, touched him too. He gently turned you around in his arms, cupping your face to meet your eyes. The moment he did, you let out a strangled sob, tears escaping your eyes. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him, desperately trying to suppress the pain as your tears wet his chest plate. Commodus let go of you, undoing the laces of his armor, briefly parting from you to take it off and just as quickly as you parted, his arms were around you again. This time you could feel his reassuring warmth, his quick breathing, and that is all you needed in that moment. Commodus remained silent; he knew there were no words enough to express the comfort he wanted to give you, how much he wanted your pain to go away, take it all so you could smile again.

“I planted new flowers, Damascus Roses, I…sorry for disturbing your day…” you spoke after some, time, parting from him to pick a few leaves from plants, a way to distract yourself, trying to stop crying. Your husband approached, resting his hand on the small of your back, understanding.

“They are truly beautiful; I have no doubt they shall blossom soon. And you did not disturb me, you are always my priority.” He reassured you, kissing your temple. You looked down at the leaves between your fingers, tearing them into small pieces.

“I never expected father to die so soon…he was healthy…I used to say he would live close to a hundred years old…and now…” you then spoke, silent tears streaming down your cheeks “I couldn’t even see him…talk to him…one last time…I had so much to say…so many hugs to give…” you sniffled, biting the inside of your cheek, wanting to stop crying, but you couldn’t, the pain was too immense.

“Y/N. He knows you loved him dearly; I have seen you send him the letters; you have done your best. But the gods…decided to call him to their side as he was worthy of them…please do not hurt yourself with these thoughts…” he tried, his hand keeping on rubbing your back soothingly, guiding you to a marble bench to sit. You instantly leaned against him, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders. “I know how you feel. I had a different relationship with my father but for so long, I craved to hug him, to speak about how I felt, to tell him how much I loved him and what I would be ready to do for him…yet I never really could, only when I lost him, I let it all out and it was too late. But you my love, you have been a good daughter, I am sure that from the Underworld he smiles at you.” He soke softly, his eyes wet, sharing your pain, your distress.

“In my religion, there is no underworld, but Heaven and Hell...I hope he is in Heaven; it is similar to what you call the Elysian Fields.” You explained between sniffles “He deserves to be in peace, he was always good to us and trusted you blindly without even knowing you really.” You smiled through tears. “I wish you had met him; he would have liked you…” your voice shook again, struggling to speak those words. Commodus looked down, swallowing his saliva, his other hand reaching for yours, his fingertips playing with your wedding ring.

“It is not too late to pay my respects to him. I could…Y/N just say the word I will bring back his body to you.” He let out, taken by passion as always, unafraid of the challenges he could face. “I can bring him to you so you can embrace him one last time, bury him as your beliefs requires.”

You turned your head to him; not sure you had heard correctly. You met his eyes; he was terribly serious. He was offering you a way to grieve, to make your peace. You pinched your lips together, searching his eyes, amazed by the man you had the luck to call your husband.

“Say the word Y/N. You only need to command, and I shall be your hand.” he said again, confirming his intentions, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it devotedly. You swallowed down, torn, in this hard moment you wished for Commodus to remain by your side, yet to bring back the one you lost eased your spirit, a final goodbye.

“Bring him back to me, my love…” you finally managed to say “Please…” you whimpered, your hand cupping his cheek briefly, sorry to make him leave. And even if his eyes showed signs of yearning, he spoke none of it and stood, placing himself in front of you before kneeling, putting his fist on his heart.

“Your word is my command.” He vowed, looking at you determined, taking your hand and kissing it with equal devotion. “I leave the Empire in your capable hands my love. I will bring back your father.”  He promised, and stood, turning away, calling his scribes and guards, giving instructions as he put his armor back on, ready to ride to Gaul to get your father’s body. He instructed that a priest had the body to be embalmed or preserved until he arrived so he could process to the roman rituals for the dead to allow the soul to pass and not remain wandering in the mortal world. He instructed as well that word doesn’t come out that he left Rome, for your safety; to pretend he was sick and that in the meantime his wife assisted by his counselors would rule.

And just as fast as he had arrived by your side, Commodus had left, it would take about a week or a little more. Thankfully as Commodus had left, you inherited most of his workload, drowning yourself into letters he received, papers from the Senate and more. It distracted you, to the point you worked yourself to exhaustion, otherwise when night came you would cry yourself to sleep, it was normal after all but in those moments, you missed Commodus’ comfort more than ever.

As days passed you grew anxious, where was Commodus? Did he manage to obtain your father’s body? In which state? Would he even be able to bring him back? You stared at the sleeping city from your balcony, your tired eyes looking out for any movement, any singular event…

“Your majesty.” You were startled by a knock on your door, in the middle of the night, it was rather unexpected and even worrying. No one woke the lords in the middle of the night unless it was extremely urgent. Your pulse instantly quickened at that thought. You rushed to the door to open it, not bothering to cover yourself.

“Did something happen?” you asked, your eyes traveling between your chambermaid and the messenger, looking for any clues of bad news. The messenger bowed, averting his eyes at your light clothing.

“Forgive my presence so late in the night, highness. But I was required to reach you as soon as possible and by any means from the Emperor himself.” He apologized, your heart skipping a beat, your hands rolling into fists anxiously. “The Emperor is on his way to the palace, he should reach you before dawn. And whishes to inform you that he brings back your father with him.” He announced, slightly widening his eyes as you froze, your eyes glassy and tears starting to escape. Your chambermaid sent the messenger away, grabbing a warm shawl to cover your shoulders as you walked outside of the sleeping quarters. You couldn’t rest, you couldn’t stand still for as long as Commodus wasn’t standing in front of you.

And for what seemed like endless hours, you paced restlessly in the halls of the palace, your mind imagining the moment you would see your father, what state was he in? would you lose all sanity at the sight?

From afar you could hear the rapid footsteps of a dozen horses, so you rushed to the entrance of the inner court, ordering the doors to be opened. The group instantly entered, each carrying torches, except for one, Commodus, his horse was dragging a tiny carriage and on it…a silhouette, wrapped entirely in linens…your father.

“Y/N” you barely heard him call your name as he stopped close to you. Your eyes were fixed onto the cadaver of your father, your heart pumping into your ears, your body frozen in place, scared to approach, scared to touch the icy skin, scared to lift the veil and see his face…

“Y/N.” repeated Commodus louder, as he got off his horse, nearly collapsing on his knees in front of you, his fist on his heart, he caught your gaze to make you look at him. “I brought your father to you…I thank the gods proper care was done to preserve his body. Do not fear to lift the veil as he seems to be only sleeping.” He spoke with confidence to reassure you, it had to be done, to help you grieve properly.

“Thank you...” you murmured, your lower lip trembling as tears began to fall freely, blurring your vision almost entirely. Commodus stood up and came to stand by your side, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he made you approach the corpse.

“I am here. Do not be afraid.” He murmured, licking his lips almost nervously as he tried to do a cross sign to accustom your beliefs and respect your father as well. Then, he approached his hands, carefully uncovering the face of your father. It was like sleeping as he described…but more pale, quieter…at least you were glad to notice his face didn’t show any traces of suffering.

“He didn’t suffer, the healers told me he was gone in his sleep.” Informed Commodus as if he had read your thoughts. He took a step back to allow you to come closer, your hands trembled and your heartbeat so fast that you felt breathless. This was real, he was really dead in front of you and yet it felt surreal, like a nightmare you would wake up from.

“Papa...” you cried out, your hand going to brush over his gray hair, soothingly caressing them. “I am so sorry…so sorry we couldn’t talk one last time…sorry I couldn’t hug you…sorry I couldn’t be there...” you sobbed, tears falling on his burial shirt.

You stayed there for an hour, maybe more, touching him gently, speaking to him; during that time, Commodus remained standing by your side, ordering a few things to his praetorians so you two were left alone in that painful moment. As your eyes had no tears left, a headache splitting your skull, you turned to your husband, throwing yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest, his tunic absorbing the wetness of your face as he squeezed you tight, kissing the top of your head, soothing you the best he could for long minutes.

“I have ordered my praetorians to fetch a Christian priest. We will have him buried in their cemetery if you wish.” He spoke quietly. You squeezed your eyes shut, moved by his care “Thank you...” you murmured against his chest before lifting your head to look at him. Only then you noticed the bags under his eyes, the dust covering his skin and clothes, his shoulders weren’t as straight as usual, he was exhausted, probably pushing through his limits to remain standing; he had been so fast, he had surely ridden days and nights, without truly resting. That was something you had always loved with Commodus and yet it also worried you; when he had an idea in mind, he would lose sleep and hunger until he had reached his goal.

“We should go prepare for the burial, you could rest a bit, my love…” you murmured tenderly, so thankful he was there for you, so thankful you he had chosen you as his wife. You headed with your husband to your private quarters, taking hold of his hand, a comfortable silence between you.

“Bring me a warm water basin, and the necessary to wash. Also, black clothing for the emperor.” You ordered your chambermaid and removed his armor piece by piece, dust flying all around the room, the scent of sweat reaching your nose. You threw away his under-armor tunic and undergarments as well.

“Y/N you don’t have to do this…” protested Commodus, as he understood your plan. Not wanted to be a burden on your heavy spirits already.

“You brought my father back to me, all the way from Gaul to here.”  You simply replied, dampening the washing cloth in the warm scented water “Besides, it distracts me. I need to think about something else for a bit, clear my mind.” You added softly, your eyes burning from too much crying every time you blinked.

“How could I face you again if I didn’t even have the time nor will to do this for you? I couldn’t bear it…then, I wanted to meet him properly.” He spoke softly as you washed his feet, soundly exhaling in relief, his muscles relaxing.

“Circumstance could have been better. But yes, he would have liked you, I think… He deeply valued ambition. He used to say I deserved a man who knew what he wanted and who wanted to reach the sky to provide me and my future children the best life.” You smiled softly as you thought of him, yes, he would have liked him. “Look at your hands my love...” you commented, referring to how callous they had gotten but especially the small cuts he had on his palms from squeezing the reins as he rode.

“Can you tell me what he was like? What kind of man? I know things of course from public knowledge but you know better.” He replied, letting you apply oil on his palms.

“He was such a clever man, a scholar from the beginning. He read much, Greek classists, some Roman ones too. He always said that you couldn’t understand the world you live in and its future without understanding the victories and defeats of the past. He was very strategic in his decisions; he had that broad vision over things…he would have been an excellent counselor to you or would have enjoyed debating with you...” you chuckled nostalgic, grabbing a dry cloth to dry his skin.

“So that is where your sharp mind comes from when talking politics hm?” you heard the smile in his voice, trying to cheer you up “Wrapped in the sweetness of your mother. Any emperor around the world would bend the knee.” He cooed as you looked up, gently cupping your face and kissing your forehead protectively. “I would have been deeply honored to discuss with him.” You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him more, your face against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, that was so calm and steady even after that exhausting trip, it soothed you too, everything will be okay.

“Now, if you are ready, let’s accompany your father to his eternal resting place. Let us not keep the gods...your God waiting.” Commodus spoke softly, a little encouraging smile, telling you he would always be there.

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