#REALLY happy with how his gladiator look came out

[pedroscurls]

letters across time (one-shot)

summary: after having moved to rome for a fresh new start, you begin to receive letters from an unlikely stranger that you begin to develop feelings for... only to come to the heartbreaking realization that the two of you may never meet.

pairing: marcus acacius x fem!reader content warnings: angst (with a happy ending), strangers-to-lovers trope (?), mutual pining, mentions of war and death, sorry - i've got a lack of historical ancient roman knowledge but trying my best lol, deviation from the film (lucilla dies before marcus - sorry, wanted marcus to be single / widowed which only fuels his hatred for the emperors), reader has a nickname (rose), excuse my poor attempt at speaking italian, no use of y/n. word count: 9.4k a/n: so i'm really stepping out of my comfort zone with this one, but i've been obsessed with marcus a since gladiator 2 came out (and honestly who else hasn't lol). also a bit of a tidbit - my first ever tattoo is with the latin saying ad maiora so i had to fit it into this story hehe. if the characterization seems off or if the historical aspect of ancient rome / dialogue is inaccurate, please bear with me - it's my first ever marcus a fic and first time writing in that time period... anyway, huge thank you to @jolapeno for hosting this "dear-uary" challenge <3. my epistolary is letters and my prompt is here. hope you all enjoyed this!

Finally settled in, you walk out to your small balcony and take a seat. It overlooks the famous Colosseum and despite the sounds of chatter coming from nearby, you have to wonder how this place looked centuries ago. Rome had always been a place you wanted to visit, but never did you think that you’d move here. 

You don’t speak the language (yet), and the apartment you moved into was surprisingly affordable given the location. An elderly couple owns the small building and when you had approached them about a vacant apartment listing, they were more than eager to have you move in. It wasn’t at all luxurious–the apartment building. It was very dated, remnants of ancient Rome decorated throughout the building. It almost felt like you were transported back to that time period, given the decoration that filled not only your apartment but the entire building itself. 

The couple could speak a little English, asking plenty of questions that a usual landlord wouldn’t ask. 

American? Yes, you answered.

Married? No, you replied with a heavy sigh–memories of your last relationship flickering in your mind. 

A beautiful girl like you, not married? No, you repeated–now trying to end the conversation in hopes that you don’t have to go into detail why you uprooted your entire life into one suitcase. 

You had noticed the way the older woman’s smile drops, can see her eyes softening at the sight of you. It’s almost like she knows, like she can understand why you’re here. She’s the first one to say that you got the apartment–the brief meeting lasting only twenty minutes. 

It’s yours, she said. 

You had told them you weren’t sure you could afford it, given how close it was to the Colosseum and knowing that it was one of the hottest tourist spots. There’s a lot of foot traffic that surrounds this area and you’d be lucky to have found an apartment this fast. 

Whatever you can pay, the husband had chimed in. We will accept.

Then, the woman had touched your arm–gentle, light, almost feather-like and you could have sworn the warmth radiated throughout your entire body. This place, this couple–it felt familiar, it felt like home. 

You nodded in agreement and you shook hands with the husband before the woman hugged you gently. 

And now, sitting in your new apartment, this didn’t feel real. You still feel like you’re running, like you’re looking over your shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But the sun begins to set, the sky soon turns a shade of orange and you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

A flood of relief washes over you.

You’re safe. 

This is your fresh start. 

And you remember what the woman had told you when they had given you the keys to your new apartment: Ad Maiora, cara mia, she whispered, eyes staring into your own. A fleeting gaze of understanding. You asked her what that meant and she smiled, patted your hand and answered, Towards greater things, my dear. 

After finding luck with your apartment, you doubt that your luck would continue. But now, a month later, you have a steady job at a coffee shop that’s within walking distance and the elderly couple–Giovanni and Antonia–have begun teaching you Italian. Most nights, they invite you to their apartment for dinner where they ask you about your day along with a detailed lesson in learning Italian. Some nights, though, they ask you to teach them English–living so close to a famous tourist area, they encounter plenty of Americans and they believe it’d be good for business if they learned how to speak the language. 

Rome starts to feel more like home as the days pass. Giovanni and Antonia have welcomed you with such warmth that they soon find out the reason for you moving here. You told them you left America for a fresh start–having just gotten out of a very toxic relationship and a very meaningless job. You wanted more for yourself and you knew that staying in America was only going to keep you complacent, stagnant. 

Antonia had given you a hug at the end of that night–a hug that you had gotten so used to receiving, a hug that you found so much comfort in. They reminded you so much of your grandparents that had raised you–those were the only good memories that you dreamt of, a time where you could be a young girl again, running around in your grandparents’ home. 

You feel much freer, more at ease, safe now that you feel fully settled in here. And one day after work, you walk up the two flights of stairs to your apartment and unlock your door. There’s an envelope on the hardwood floor–almost like someone had slipped it underneath your door. There’s no writing on it, no name addressed on it, but you pick it up anyway and notice that it isn’t sealed. You set it on your small rounded table and walk to your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine–this is routine for nights when you don’t have dinner with Antonia and Giovanni. 

You take a quick sip of your red wine and then move to your bedroom, removing your clothes to change into much more comfortable clothing–shorts and an oversized crewneck, your hair now pulled into a messy bun. You’re barefoot when you walk back into the kitchen to retrieve your wine glass. As you pass the rounded dining table, you notice the envelope. Someone must have had to slide it underneath your door on purpose, right? 

You take the envelope and then walk out to your balcony, sitting on one of the seats as you set the glass on the small table. Slowly, you pull the letter out of the envelope and open it, the writing in neat cursive. You shouldn’t be reading it, especially if this was meant for someone else. 

Confused but intrigued, you continue to read. 

Lucilla died today. I was not there to bid her goodbye. I had given her a promise–that this campaign will be my last. All of Numidia–for the glory of Rome… all for nothing. Writing this journal entry surely is treacherous–I could be punished for it, but what is the point of it all? This is not Rome. This is not the Rome I had promised to fight for.  Lucilla–I am sorry, my lady. I will love you for the rest of my days and cannot wait until we meet again. Your blue eyes, your smile… Your laugh and your voice–I will carry it with me, my love. I will speak with the Senate. I will–I will do what is right, what must be done.  For you. For Rome.  Acacius

You’re unsure of what you just read. Lucilla. Numidia. Acacius. Rome. It almost seems like this is a journal entry–the feel of the paper, the cursive writing. Maybe you shouldn’t have read it, but you’re curious. Something inside you tells you to write back–almost like a tug, a pull that you feel in the pit of your stomach. So, you grab a piece of paper and a pen and begin writing–not in cursive, though.

Dear Acacius,  I’m so very sorry for your loss. I’m not sure there’s anything anyone can say to make things better and I’m not even sure if time helps either… Shit happens. It sucks, and I want to say that life goes on, but it doesn’t. At least not for the person who lives.  I lost my grandparents when I was eighteen–it crushed my entire world and set me on a path that I’m still trying to fix. I know this isn’t the same as losing a wife or a partner and I’m not even sure if I’m making any sense. I just–I know what loss feels like and it fucking sucks.  Anyway, I think this might have been sent to me by accident and I’m sorry that I opened it and read it. It wasn’t my intention. So, I’m just gonna send it back to you–somehow–but… I hope things get better for you, Acacius (really cool name, by the way!).  Best wishes,  A stranger

You fold your letter and place it into the envelope with Acacius’s original piece of paper. You then close the envelope, grab your glass of wine and walk back into your apartment, setting the envelope onto your dining table so that it’s visible for you tomorrow morning to ask Antonia about. 

The following morning after getting ready for work, you notice that the envelope is gone. You furrow a brow in confusion, beginning to turn over your entire apartment to find the envelope–contents of your letter along with Acacius’s journal entry inside of it. When you realize that you’re late for work, you decide to call in sick and quickly leave your apartment to descend the stairs to speak with Antonia. 

She’s in the community garden, tending to the roses and when she sees you, a bright grin lines her lips. She stands and pulls you into a hug without hesitation. 

“Cara mia, no work today?” 

You shake your head and ask, “Antonia, there was an envelope in my apartment last night. Do you know who might have slid it under my door?” 

“Envelope?” she shakes her head, confusion written across her features. “Like a letter?” 

“Well, not really?” you answer. “It seemed like a journal entry. They talked about Lucilla, about Numidia–”

“Lucilla? My dear, she was the daughter of Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius.”

“Wait, that was centuries ago.” 

Antonia nods. “And Numidia,” she sighs. “So very tragic.”

“Antonia, who’s Acacius?” 

“General Acacius?”

“G–General?”

“Cara mia, cosa sta succedendo?” asks Antonia. My dear, what’s going on?

You shake your head. “Nothing. Um, I’ll have to skip tonight’s dinner with you and Giovanni. Mi dispiace.” 

“Cara mia–”

You give her a hug and walk back inside your apartment, determined to find out more about Acacius. 

Marcus returns to his chambers, distraught and overcome with grief. His bed–once shared with Lucilla–now remains cold and empty. He can’t bring himself to lie in bed, yearning for his wife who is no longer alive. After Numidia, he was more than ready to return home–returning home meant returning to Lucilla, but when news of her death finally reached him, he no longer found the need to go back to Rome, despite the emperors’ orders. 

But Marcus was a man of honor. He would ask Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla for a period of rest from war, to fully grieve the loss of Lucilla. He can’t even think about attending the emperors’ ceremony that’s dedicated to his success in Numidia–how can he when Lucilla is no longer here? 

He hears a knock on the door and he walks–barefoot–to open it. He sees a chambermaid on the other side–she has a look of sympathy across her features with a hint of fear. 

“G–General,” she mutters. “There is a letter for you.” 

“A letter?” he asks, confused.

She nods and extends her hand. Marcus takes the envelope from her and gives her a single nod, dismissing her silently. She turns on her heel and Marcus shuts the door, walking towards the candle that illuminates a small table. He takes a seat, pours himself a cup of wine before he begins to open it. He holds two pieces of a paper–one he’s familiar with and when he opens it, he realizes it’s the journal entry that he had written–and the other, much more smooth, less texture, more white in color. When he opens it, his eyes widen at the writing–all capitalized, not written in cursive. 

He reads the first line and realizes that this is a letter to him. He reads it with interest, eyes still slightly widened at the choice of words that he’s not used to. 

Shit sucks. 

Cool name.

It’s signed A Stranger and he isn’t sure how his journal entry even got into the hands of someone else. He doesn’t have any information aside from the fact that your writing is unusual and the words you use are out of the ordinary. 

But, he finds comfort in your letter. He’s known loss before–plenty of his men understand what he’s going through–but somehow talking to a stranger who doesn’t truly know who he is provides a sense of relief. He doesn’t have to be General Acacius in his response to you–he can just be Marcus. 

So, he grabs a piece of paper and his quill and begins writing to you. 

Dear Stranger,  Thank you for returning my journal entry. I am not sure how that fell into your hands and it is quite alright that you read it. However, for some reason, I feel some relief knowing that I am not alone. Maybe my journal entry was meant to find you… Do you believe in that? In fate?  Anyway, I am sorry for your loss as well. Loss is… Well, it is a part of life but that does not mean that it is pleasant either. I am sure the path that you are on now will lead you to greater things. There is a saying–if you are familiar–Ad Maiora. It means towards greater things.  Also, what do you mean by ‘cool name’? It is quite interesting that my name is associated with some kind of temperature… unless I am misunderstanding.  In any case, you may call me Marcus. If you are comfortable, may I ask what your name is?  I hope this letter finds you well, stranger. And I hope I get to talk to you again.  Best wishes,  Marcus

He re-reads his letter, furrows a brow and sighs. It sounds desperate–a plea to get you to talk to him again because he feels less alone when he’s writing to you. He isn’t sure how this letter will get to you, but he keeps his journal entry and your letter and places his reply back into the envelope. 

Marcus spends the better part of his night drinking, having ended up falling asleep at his desk and the envelope magically disappearing by the time he awakes the following morning. 

You awake the following morning, having fallen asleep on your couch with your laptop and notebook scattered on the coffee table. You had spent the entire night researching Acacius. Antonia was right–Marcus Acacius was a General for the Roman empire, serving under the rule of Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla. Empress Lucilla was his wife, but had died while he was on his way back from Numidia. But all of this–it happened centuries ago. 211 AD. And Acacius ended up dying–right in the center of the Colosseum after he was forced to fight in the arena after the emperors found out his plan of treachery. 

There’s no way that the person you had written to the other day was the same man you had researched–he was dead. Surely, you can’t be writing to someone from a different time period and to someone who is no longer alive. Right? 

You sit up from your couch and notice the same envelope magically resting on your coffee table. Quickly, you grab it and pull the letter out. Same paper, same writing. 

It’s from Acacius. 

You read it quickly, a small smile lining your lips and a quiet giggle escaping you. You feel a wave of emotion when you read his reply; it’s obvious this man is clearly still alive but how could it be possible that you’re communicating with someone who lives in an entirely different time period? And how come the envelope is your only string tying you to him? 

After you finish reading his letter, you grab your notebook and pen and begin writing your reply. 

Dear Marcus,  You can call me Rose. It’s my favorite flower and I grew up helping my grandma with her garden, which was filled with roses.  You’re cute, Marcus. Cool name meaning… You have a nice name. I think that translates the same?  Ironically enough, Ad Maiora is something I’m trying to remind myself when I have tough days. A good friend of mine mentioned it to me when I moved here. It’s been something that keeps me going every day… the hope that I’m moving in the right direction.  And fate… I don’t think I believe in it. We all have free will and everything we do in life is a choice we make… like my choice in getting into a relationship with a really bad man. Would you call that fate?  I like talking to you too… and I feel less alone too. Can I ask a question, by the way? What year is it?  Best wishes,  Rose

You take Marcus’s letter and set it aside, folding your reply and placing it back into the envelope. You’re sure that it’s going to disappear during the night and you hope that you can wake up the next day with a response from Marcus. 

Marcus attends his ceremony, dressed in white and gold as he feigns a look of pride, a forced smile when he’s standing in front of Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla. It makes his blood boil–the fact that these two young men are parading him around like he’s done something so great, so grand. All he can see is the unnecessary bloodshed, the bodies burning in that pit. All he can feel is the emptiness in his soul–Marcus doesn’t want to be here. 

And not once did they give their condolences over the loss of Lucilla. Marcus asks for a respite from this war, but they don’t grant him that luxury. He has a cut along the side of his neck due to Emperor Geta placing a sharp blade along his skin. As soon as the ceremony is over, Marcus retreats to his chamber where the envelope that disappeared that morning magically appears on his desk. 

Still in his white and gold attire, he quickly opens the envelope and reads your letter. He lets out a breath of relief as he sits down and reads your words over and over again. It gives him comfort–something he desperately needs right now. 

There’s something in the way your words put him at ease. He still has to put Lucilla to rest and he isn’t looking forward to it–that the next time he sees his wife will be in a coffin. 

He grabs a piece of paper and begins writing to you. 

Dear Rose,  That is a beautiful name and a beautiful flower. There are gardens filled with them here. Now, when I see a rose, I will think of you.  Cute–I have never been called cute before. That is certainly a first, thank you.  I believe in fate, Rose. I believe that everything happens for a reason… But I am sorry to hear that you had to endure a difficult relationship. It pains me to hear that you were mistreated and I surely hope that you are far from him now.  I believe that we have crossed paths for a reason. Maybe we will never know why, but I am surely glad that we did.  You can ask me any question you like and I will be more than happy to answer. It is 211 AD–do you not know the year? Also, I assume that you live in Rome since these letters are coming rather quickly.  The next few days will be… rather difficult. I am planned to bury my wife and I am not sure if I will be available to reply, but if you send me a response… I will do my best to write to you when I can.  I am not looking forward to saying goodbye to Lucilla. She was an amazing woman. She had to sacrifice a lot in her life–she was very brave, strong, resilient… I should have been there at her bedside. I should have held her hand when she took her last breath…  I failed Lucilla.  What kind of man does that make me?  If you choose to never respond after this letter, I understand. I just–there’s something in the way your words bring me comfort, puts me at ease, gives me a sense of relief… Anyway, I must go now. Until we speak again, Rose.  Best wishes,  Marcus 

He folds his letter and puts it back in the envelope, ensuring this time that he passes it along to the chambermaid. 

Later that night, you come home after having spent dinner with Antonia and Giovanni. You’re welcomed with the sight of the envelope sitting neatly on your dining table. You set your things down immediately and grab the envelope, taking the letter out and sitting down on the couch. 

Your heart breaks slowly as you read Marcus’s letter. You can feel his guilt through the words on the page and when he confirms the year he’s living in, it all but crushes you. This is a man that you’re slowly developing a friendship with and you know that it isn’t going to last long. 

As you continue to read his letter, you feel tears sting your eyes. So, you don’t hesitate to begin writing your response back to him. 

Dear Marcus,  With you, I’m starting to believe in fate. Would you believe me if I said the year I live in is 2025? I’m not sure how to explain how we’re able to exchange letters from different time periods, but… here we are. It’s possible. I just don’t have an explanation for it.  I can assure you that I am no longer in a relationship with that man and I am very much far from him. I moved to Rome about a month ago and I love it here. I can see the Colosseum from my balcony.  I’m sorry that the next few days will be difficult. I can’t imagine the pain that you’re feeling–losing the one person you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with. Lucilla sounded like a great woman, Marcus. I know saying sorry doesn’t change anything, but I don’t know if there’s even anything I can say to make things better.  I’m sure Lucilla knew… I’m sure she knew that you did your best to get to her. I’m sure she knew that you wanted to be there with her…  And you know, maybe you don’t have to say goodbye. The ones we love don’t ever really leave us, do they? We continue living to keep their memory alive.  You didn’t fail, Marcus. Sometimes, things happen out of our control. Not being there for her at the end isn’t a reflection of who you are as a person, or as a husband. I’m willing to bet that if you had it your way, you’d have been there for her. Maybe wherever you were… you wouldn’t have gone if you had a choice.  Finally, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, sorry.  I hope the next few days give you some closure, Marcus, and when you’re ready, I’ll be right here waiting.  Best wishes,�� Rose 

You take his letter and put it on the pile you’ve collected before you place your reply back into the envelope. You turn your back for a moment to grab a glass of water and when you turn back around, the envelope is gone. 

Marcus awakes that morning to the sight of the envelope. He can’t explain how it just vanishes and reappears out of thin air on his desk. He pulls your letter out of the envelope and reads what you have written. 

2025? Surely, that’s a lie. There is no way he’s exchanging letters with someone centuries into the future. He has to wonder if this is some sort of joke, if maybe the emperors put someone up to this. As he continues reading though, he feels tears sting his eyes, threatening to spill over. Your words–it provides a sensation of warmth that blossoms in his chest. He wants to believe you, wants to believe that he’s a good man. 

Marcus rereads your last sentence repeatedly, commits it to memory as he begins thinking of what he has to do today. 

I’ll be right here waiting. 

He doesn’t have time at the moment to write you back, so he keeps the envelope and letter separate from each other. He takes one last look at your letter before he leaves his chamber. 

The next few days, you’re anticipating a response from Marcus. He did warn you that he wouldn’t write back until he’s able, but you still can’t help the disappointment you feel when the envelope doesn’t appear for the next few days. Antonia and Giovanni notice a change in your demeanor since you’ve been receiving the letters–they notice the excitement in your eyes, a much freer spirit, but you tell them it’s because you’re finally feeling more and more comfortable here in Rome. 

You learn more about Marcus through your research and you try to find someone who can explain the phenomenon that you’re experiencing. How is it possible that you’re communicating with a man from a different time period? Sure, there are theories about time travel but that never felt real to you. 

At the end of the week, you’re already getting anxious. It’s been four days since Marcus’s letter. You have to wonder what he’s doing, how he’s doing. You know how his life ends, and you have to wonder what would happen if you told him. That would change so many things, right? It would not only change history, but it would ultimately change the trajectory of how the world is now. 

On the fifth day, Marcus is exhausted. Saying goodbye to Lucilla had only fueled his anger for the emperors. He has a plan in place and he knows what end he will meet if he gets caught, but at this point, he has nothing else to lose. 

After he buries Lucilla, he finds some time to ask around if anyone knew a woman named Rose. When someone would respond with a nod, there’s a flutter of excitement that he feels in the pit of his stomach but he’s left disappointed every time. Every Rose he’s met so far has no idea of the letters and he’s starting to believe that maybe you do live in the future–centuries into the future. It leaves him with an unsettling sensation in his chest, a sad reality that there’s a likely possibility that Marcus will never get to meet you. 

Now, he finally has some time alone. So, Marcus sits at his desk, rereads your letter once more before he takes his usual paper and quill out to begin writing a response to you. 

Dear Rose,  I am sorry for the delay in my response. The last five days have been very difficult for me, but every time I saw a rose… I thought of you and it brought me a lot of comfort that I did not realize I needed.  I want to express my gratitude to you, Rose. Your last letter–I kept it close to me at all times during the last few days here. Somehow, knowing that you’re waiting for me helped me get through each day… and knowing that I get to write to you again helped me through the difficult moments I endured. Ad Maiora, I suppose. Towards greater things… and I think that greater thing is you.  I buried Lucilla yesterday. She still looked so beautiful, but she looked… peaceful. She endured a lot of hardship in her life and there is some comfort that I feel knowing she’s no longer in pain. She no longer needs to fight… and I believe you are right. The ones we love do not ever leave us. We keep their memory alive and Lucilla will always hold a special place in my heart.  I must be completely honest with you, Rose. I am the General of the Roman army. I have a lot of blood on my hands… all for the glory of Rome, but you are right. If I had a choice, I would have been by Lucilla’s side from the start. I am conflicted… It is difficult to fight for this version of Rome. So much bloodshed, so many lives lost… all for nothing. I should not be writing this–it is certainly punishable, but I am exhausted, Rose.  If you do live in 2025–which does not seem possible–how does Rome look like then? You say you moved to Rome. Are you happy here? I also tried to look for you. Asked around about you, but I did not get anywhere. There isn’t anyone by the name of Rose that knows about these letters. Do you really live in 2025?  Lastly, tell me more about you. I want to spend as much time as I have getting to know you, Rose. I hope that is okay.  Best wishes,  Marcus 

He folds his response and places it into the envelope. Right before his eyes, it suddenly vanishes and Marcus is sure that he must be hallucinating. He’s exhausted and hasn’t had much sleep since he’s gotten back, but he has no other explanation for it. 

You awake the following morning to see the envelope on your coffee table. Excitement fills your veins and you quickly walk over to the envelope, carefully taking the familiar piece of a paper out. You begin to realize the letters you have begun exchanging with Marcus are becoming longer and longer–it brings a smile to your face and heat rising in your cheeks. 

You sit on the couch, pull your legs underneath you and grab the blanket to drape over your lap as you finally read Marcus’s letter. He thought of you–the last five days and he thought of you. When he finally tells you the truth about who he is, you feel a sense of relief. You had been afraid that you’d accidentally let it slip that you know who he is, despite already telling him that you live in the future. 

The last sentence in his letter brings you back to reality. You feel the pit in your stomach drop at the realization that this is as far as you’ll ever get with him. Sooner or later, this letters will end but you can’t help the feelings you’ve begun to develop for a man you will never meet. 

I want to spend as much time as I have getting to know you, Rose. 

It’s almost like he knows what will happen to himself–maybe he knows that the plan he eventually comes up with is a death sentence once the emperors find out. 

You know you shouldn’t get attached, but you get your notebook and pen and write back to him anyway. 

Dear Marcus,  I must say, it’s such a relief to hear from you. I wish I could have been there for you, with you… supporting you. If I’m being honest, it’s hard to hear that you’re going through a difficult time. Makes me want to go back into time and pull you into a hug. Do you think that’s possible? Time travel?  You sure know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you? You make me blush sometimes with the things you say. Are you sure you’re real? A lot of the men here certainly don’t talk like you do–you can definitely teach them a thing or two.  I'm starting to think our saying is Ad Maiora, isn’t it? Moving to Rome led me toward a greater thing… one after the other, and it finally led me to you. I’d say that’s fate, wouldn’t you?  And General Marcus Acacius–sounds so formal, so official. You must be very important, aren’t you? Like I said, I wish I could pull you into a hug. I hope, at least, knowing that I’m here to listen is enough though. Also, if talking about this is punishable, then maybe we should be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you… Yes, I live in the year 2025. I’d be surprised if someone lied to you and said they knew about the letters we’ve been exchanging. Rome is… different than what you’re used to. There are no emperors. The colosseum is no longer in use–there aren’t anymore gladiators. I’ll attach a photograph of me and my balcony, maybe it’ll help you believe me.  Well, what do you want to know? I’m an open book, Marcus. Ask away.  Can’t wait to hear from you again. I have missed you.  Love,  Rose 

You sign the letter without thinking, but you don’t bother to change it or rewrite it after you realize the word you used. You hope it isn’t too forward or too insensitive. You grab your Polaroid camera and quickly walk out to your balcony. You face the camera to yourself and smile, pressing the button to take the picture. Once it develops, you go back inside and fold your letter. After a few minutes, the Polaroid develops and you look down. It’s a good picture and gives a good view of the colosseum in the background. 

Placing the letter and the Polaroid into the envelope, you close it and surprisingly see the envelope disappear. 

“So it is real,” you whisper to yourself, a smile lining your lips as you already begin counting down the time before you receive a reply from Marcus. 

Later that same night, Marcus sees the envelope on his desk as he gets ready for bed. He sits down instantly at his desk and uses his candle to illuminate your writing. 

But he sees the Polaroid and takes it out of the envelope. Marcus lets out a quiet breath when he sees you. He isn’t sure what exactly he’s holding or how this managed to capture a realistic photograph of you but he’s distracted by your beauty to even notice the colosseum in the back. He’s still reeling over Lucilla’s death, but there’s something in the way your smile and your bright eyes somehow puts him at ease. 

“My lady,” he mumbles. “Lucilla, if you can hear me, please forgive me. This woman–She is helping me through this, through your loss.” Marcus shuts his eyes, guilt and desire mixing together. Guilt because he’s still dealing with the grief of losing Lucilla, and desire because you are absolutely stunning. Marcus isn’t even surprised–this is exactly how he pictured you when you began exchanging letters with him. 

Marcus turns his gaze to your letter, but his eyes flicker to your picture repeatedly. You really do live in the future and you will always be so out of reach. 

Then, he sees the word you sign your letter with. A warmth washes over him. His lips curl upwards just slightly and he begins to write. 

Dear Rose,  This–This picture, it is you, yes? I cannot explain how something like this exists, so it must be true that you do live in the future. So far into the future.  But you are breathtaking, Rose. Absolutely beautiful. Your smile and your eyes… there’s a kindness and warmth to them. The man you had been in a relationship with before truly did not realize what he had because any man would be lucky to have you.  The colosseum in your photograph–it looks old. If what you say is true, no gladiators and no emperors, then can I ask… is your world a better place than what it is here? I think I will dream of this, of you, of a different life. This is not to say the life I currently have or have led is not great, but a man can still dream, right?  A hug from you sounds very nice. I imagine that I would feel even more at peace with my arms around you. I am not too sure about time travel, but if these letters are any proof of what’s possible, then maybe time traveling is too. Though, if anyone is doing the time traveling, I would rather it be me. I do not want you to be in this time period here, Rose. I do not want you to be around such men because there are bad men here too. Maybe more worse here than there.  If I may be honest… I cannot stop looking at you. I believe I’m going to keep this very close to me from now on. I am sorry that I cannot provide the same type of picture of myself–we do not have this here… but maybe I can think of something else…  An open book, hm? Well, I know your favorite flower. I know that you are starting fresh here in Rome… I suppose I should ask what do you like to do then? If you are living in the future, what is there to do?  I am unsure if you have experienced this yet, but this envelope… it seems to be the reason why we are able to exchange letters. It vanished before my eyes the other day, Rose. I cannot explain how or why that happened, but maybe this is fate. Exchanging letters across time sounds impossible, but for some reason, the Gods wanted us to meet. That sounds like fate to me.  I will wait for your next letter, Rose, and I have missed you too.  Until then.  Love,  Marcus

He quickly folds the piece of paper and gently slides it into the envelope, not bothering to wait for it to disappear because his attention is pulled to your photograph. He brushes his thumb across it gently–wishing you were here. 

The following morning, you’re awake far too early but excitement fills your entire body when you see the envelope sitting on your dining table. You make a cup of coffee and open it, having grown accustomed to Marcus’s neat cursive. You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks when he compliments you, can feel the butterflies in your tummy. 

I think I will dream of this, of you, of a different life. 

You feel your heart tug just a little–the harsh truth that you will never get to meet him becomes more and more real as you continue to exchange letters with him. 

He’s seen it too–the envelope disappearing without a trace. You can’t explain how it’s possible and there is a part of you that no longer wants one. Time travel–there isn’t a way that’s possible and even if it was, how would it even work? 

You grab your notebook and quickly begin writing to him, setting your cup of coffee down. You lift the cup away from the paper, taking note that it left a coffee-stained circle at the top corner of the page. 

Dear Marcus,  You are very sweet… I’m sure there are more pretty women there. I’m just… me.  But Rome… it’s beautiful here. It’s always been a place I wanted to visit. I never did think I would end up moving here and now, I can’t even imagine ever leaving.  Considering your time period, I would say the world now is much better. I think you would like it… it might take some getting used to–it’s so very crowded here, but I think you would like it. I suppose that’s all we will have, isn’t it? Dreaming of a different life… Or maybe I’ll learn how to time travel and bring you here.  I love the beach. I love the water, the sunsets… It’s calming, almost peaceful to me. There’s just something about the sounds of the waves, the feel of the water, the sight of the sky that just puts me at ease. The beach was the one place that I felt like I could get away from everything. It became my safe haven, my safe place…  What about you? General Marcus Acacius–what do you like to do? I have also seen this envelope just disappear. I don’t have an explanation for it either, but maybe you’re right. Maybe there is a reason why we’re able to communicate across time. Do you think we’ll ever get the chance to meet face to face? You know, if I learn time travel…  Sometimes, when I go to bed, I pray that I dream of you. I think it’s the closest I can get to ever meeting you. I imagine what you would look like, what your voice would sound like… How it would feel like to be in your arms. I would assume I’d feel like how I would if I were at the beach–safe, calm, peaceful.  If by some miracle I’m able to time travel, may I come visit you instead? I think it would be much easier for me to go back in time rather than you come here. Some things might change if you were to leave your time period and come to mine… Looking forward to your next letter, Marcus. Love,  Rose

You fold your letter and place it in the envelope, already counting down the hours until you receive Marcus’s reply.

Marcus finally sits at his table after an exhausting day at the colosseum. He doesn’t find the violence entertaining like everyone else. It’s unnecessary and he wants no part of it, but he has to put on a facade for the emperors. He still plans on speaking with the senate, to conjure up a plan to somehow overthrow Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla. 

However, he’s conflicted with so many emotions. The grief and loss he feels over Lucilla lingers in his chest, but he feels hopeful–excited whenever he sees the envelope on his desk. If he goes through with his plan and he ends up getting caught, Marcus knows what the consequence will be. He knows that it’s ultimately a death sentence if the emperors find out, but his mind drifts to you whenever he thinks about what his end might be. 

His eyes drift to your picture on his desk, a small smile curling his lips. He dreamt of you last night, after he had written his response to you. He dreamt that he was in your world, somehow lying in a bed with you in his arms. It was the first time since losing Lucilla that he had woken up with a feeling of ease–just dreaming about you brought him that sense of peace. 

Marcus takes your letter out and reads it with a smile. Once he finishes reading, he begins writing back to you. 

Dear Rose,  I dreamt of you last night. The Gods answered me and I dreamt of you. I dreamt that I was in your world, sitting on that balcony in the picture I received from you. I have this image of you–smiling and laughing–ingrained in my mind. It puts me at ease. Talking with you has been my safe haven, I suppose. Things have been difficult here ever since I got back and it’s lonely without Lucilla. I am sorry to bring her up.  These letters have been able to get me through each day. Your picture, too. Lately, I have been dreaming of a different life than the one I am living. I have been a soldier for most of my life, Rose. I do not think there’s a day that has gone by where I have not fought… And it is tiring. The beach sounds like a great place to just get away from it all, I agree. Here, though, I like to go to the gardens. More so now than before. I am usually surrounded by roses and it makes me feel closer to you.  I am ready to retire, Rose. I am ready to spend the rest of my days in quiet–possibly far, far away from Rome. Maybe near a beach, hm? That would certainly be another place where I can be reminded of you.  I will pray to the Gods for a miracle that we get to meet one day. I didn’t think it would be possible to exchange letters with someone from a different time, so maybe being able to meet face to face may not seem so out of reach… I imagine that I would feel safe and calm with you near too.  Your beauty, your words… The way you have made me feel… It all reminds me of Lucilla, but in your own way. I am a man of honor, Rose, and Lucilla will always have a piece of my heart, but… you have become the reason why I am able to get up every morning. I look forward to the next time I see this envelope because it means I get to talk with you.  Maybe tonight, we can meet in each other’s dreams, Rose.  Until then, my lady.  Love,  Marcus

Days turn into weeks and your letters with Marcus become more and more frequent. You’ve tried to teach yourself the theories of time travel, but you’re just as confused as when you first started. The more you talk with Marcus, the more you begin to realize the magnitude of your feelings for him. You try to tell yourself that developing feelings for a man you won’t ever meet–a man who’s already dead–is only going to set you up for heartbreak. 

But despite knowing how this might end, you still exchange letters with him anyway. 

Marcus is set to meet with the Senate tomorrow and he knows that if he gets caught, it will be his death sentence. There won’t be any way that he will be able to get out of it. He holds onto your letters–and especially your picture–when the days and weeks become more difficult for him. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla require his presence at the colosseum and Marcus finds it increasingly exhausting to sit there and feign interest. 

When he gets back to his chambers every day, the envelope is there waiting for him. He reads your letters repeatedly before he can even write a response. The way you talk about your world–it helps him escape his reality. He begins to realize just how deeply he feels for you and it saddens him because despite how strongly he feels, Marcus knows that you two may never get the chance to meet. 

Later that night, you see the envelope and feel the excitement rush through you. However, once you open the letter and begin reading the words on the page, you feel your heart drop–tears building at the corners of your eyes. This feels almost like a goodbye…

Dear Rose,  I am set to meet with the Senate tomorrow. In secret. I realize that this might be the last letter I will ever write to you, but I will be praying to the Gods that it won’t be, but if it is… I wanted to write to you one last time.  You have given me hope, have made me feel alive when I had lost everything. Coming back to Rome after Numidia, after losing Lucilla–I could not find the will to live, but then I received your first letter. It was fate. You saved me, Rose. You continue to save me.  I wish I could see you. I wish I could touch you. I wish I could hold you. I know I said in a previous letter that I would want to spend the rest of my days in quiet… but I think that has changed.  If I had it my way, I would spend the rest of my days with you. I imagine what my life would be like with you. I imagine a lot of laughter. I imagine that we would be at the beach or maybe at the garden and we would have plenty of meaningful conversations. I imagine my mornings would be one of my favorite times of the day because I would get to wake up every morning with you by my side.  If this is the last time I get to speak with you, just know that you now also have a piece of my heart, Rose. I will carry your photograph with me forever. I will hold onto the conversations we’ve had and the letters we’ve exchanged.  If I do not make it… please remember that you deserve all of the good things in the world. You deserve to always be happy. You deserve to live your life the way you want. You deserve to be with someone who will cherish the very ground you walk on because you deserve nothing less.  When I sleep tonight, I will dream of you… like I always do, Rose.  Yours forever,  Marcus

You know what he means when he says he’s going to speak with the Senate tomorrow. You’ve read what will happen–after all, you know exactly how history plays out after having researched the history of Ancient Rome and Marcus. 

You can feel your heart breaking–the ache in your chest beginning to throb almost painfully. You know how Marcus’s story ends, but you can’t let him go. You had been hesitant before–altering history–but you have to tell him. You may never get to meet him, but you don’t want this to be the end. 

Grabbing your notebook, you begin to write your response. Almost fifteen minutes later, you fold it in half and place it inside the envelope, watching it disappear yet again before your eyes. 

Marcus awakes that morning with a knot in his stomach–his eyes glance over at your photo before he catches the envelope. He sits up from bed and walks towards his desk, pulling out your letter and reading it carefully.

Dear Marcus,  Don’t. Your last letter feels like a goodbye, and I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to say goodbye, not yet… Not ever. I shouldn’t be telling you this because I’m sure it’s going to alter my own reality, but I don’t care. I don’t want to let you go.  You’re going to get caught. No matter how many times you’ve rehearsed it in your mind, you will be caught. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla will find out and they–they will not take it lightly. They will make you fight in the colosseum and that is where you will die. I know how your story ends and yet, I made a choice to continue exchanging letters with you. I knew that our story would only end in heartbreak, but maybe… Maybe there’s still a chance for us.  I am begging you, Marcus… Please do not do it. Don’t go to the Senate. Just–Just leave Rome. Live the rest of your days in quiet–away from war, away from the bloodshed, away from the emperors. You no longer need to fight and I understand… I understand that you made a promise to Lucilla, to yourself, but I cannot lose you and maybe this makes me selfish, but– You saved me too, Marcus.  I will spend the rest of my days figuring out how to transcend time… to find a way where you and I can finally meet. Fate brought us together, right? We will figure this out. I will figure this out.  This is not the end of your story, Marcus Acacius. Do you understand me? And this certainly isn’t the end of ours. At the end of the day, we still have a choice… If you decide to still go through with it, then I will understand. I know you are a man of honor, Marcus. And if you do decide that you will go to the Senate tonight, then I hope you know how deeply I feel for you too. I didn’t think I would ever love again, but you… You nestled your way into my heart and made a home there. I go to sleep dreaming of you. When I wake up, you are the first person I think of.  I love you, Marcus.  Yours forever,  Rose

He sits at the edge of his bed, rereading your letter over and over and over again. You know how his story ends and you know exactly what will happen when he goes to meet with the Senate tonight. He should have known that you’d be aware of his history–you live in the future after all. 

Marcus isn’t afraid to die–in fact, it’s something that he’s come to terms with a long time ago, but for once, he doesn’t want this to end yet. He doesn’t want to let you go either and maybe, maybe you two will never meet, but he would rather die an old man exchanging letters with you. 

He reads the last sentence repeatedly and he can’t help the way the words stir something in him–the butterflies he feels in the pit of his stomach, his heart beating faster–you love him. 

Marcus knows what he needs to do now. 

The rest of the day seems to drag on–the minutes trickling by ever so slowly. Even at work, you can’t concentrate. Antonia and Giovanni pick up on your distraction, but you reassure them with a fake smile and tell them that you’d just rather spend the night alone. 

You know it was selfish to tell Marcus the truth, to practically beg him to stay, but you couldn’t imagine continuing to live your life with the possibility that you could save his life. You had only been exchanging letters with him for a little over a month, but you couldn’t help the feelings that you had begun to develop for him. The way your heart races faster when you see the envelope, or the way your stomach flips when you read his letters. 

In your free time, you had been trying to learn how to time travel. It seemed almost impossible, but you didn’t want to quit. You couldn’t explain how you’re able to exchange letters with someone who lives centuries in the past–and if that was possible, then surely it was possible to time travel. 

Somehow. 

You enter your apartment later that night–you can feel the nerves settle in the pit of your stomach when you slowly open the door. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, heart rate slowly picking up when your eyes scan the dining table.

No letter. 

Your stomach drops, so you close the door and then move your gaze to the coffee table. 

Nothing.

Tears begin to pool at the corner of your eyes and you realize that Marcus had made his choice. You sit on your couch, bring your legs to your chest and cry into it. The sob builds and builds until you let out a quiet whimper, tears now streaming down your face. 

He was gone. 

Forever.

A week later and you finally get the courage to go back to work. When at work, you fake a smile–feign happiness, but when you get back home, you cry yourself to sleep. 

Antonia and Giovanni leave you dinner at your front door, but you don’t bother to open it. You aren’t hungry–you haven’t had an appetite since Marcus’s last letter. You wonder if he ever received your letter and if he did, did he read it? 

And if he did read it, what went through his mind? 

And when you admitted that you loved him, did that scare him away? 

When you open your front door later that night, you set your things down and begin walking into the living room until you finally see it.

The envelope. 

Your heart leaps out of your chest. 

You waste no time in opening the envelope, quickly taking out the letter and breathing out a sigh of relief when you see his familiar cursive writing. 

Dear Rose,  I am sorry that I have not written back to you. I had a change of plans after your last letter and had to strategically plan how I would be able to execute it.  I am no longer in Rome. You were right–I no longer need to fight. I faked my death–with the help of some trusting men of mine–and am far away from that place.  I am living the rest of my days in the quiet–I now live in a small village where no one is familiar with who I am or what I have done. It is almost like a fresh start–a chance for me to live a different life… a life that I might have chosen from the beginning if I had the choice.  I want to thank you, Rose. For telling me the truth, for warning me. I am much happier now than I have ever been, and I am more than ready to spend the rest of my days with you. Traveling to this village was not easy, but you gave me the strength–like you always do–to keep going.  I love you, Rose. I wanted to tell you that once I was safe–once I was finally settled in. Ad Maiora, right? Towards greater things... So, my lady, what do you say? Shall we continue our story together and maybe–one day–finally meet? Yours forever, Marcus

the end...?

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

full hcs for what post-route m6 would say if they got to talk to pre-memory loss mc for a few minutes?

The Arcana HCs: Post-Route M6 get 10 minutes with Pre-Memory Loss MC

Julian

He's sorry

There's a lot more he wants to say, but he begins with a stream of apologies when the person in front of him isn't the investigator who became his ally, but the assistant he failed to protect

He's not proud of it, but for a moment he feels himself slip back into who he used to be

Someone whose value lay solely in how useful he could be to someone else, self-hatred creeping back in like an estranged family member when he sees how useless he was to you

But the you from back then, standing in the middle of the plague and seeing someone stronger, better-fed, less sleep-deprived, the you from back then can see that he's grown. He's happy

The you from back then only seems to want to know if the plague you died trying to make up for had a cure, and if the doctor you lost your life assisting was ever able to find it

And he did. Twice. Without having to prove himself to anyone

Asra

Oh, how they used to miss this version of you

There's so much running through his head. On the surface, it's the first and only chance he's really had to see the difference between who you were when he lost you and who you are now

But deeper, it's the wave of phantom pains, pulling them under and back to when they would've given anything to see this version of you again, when they waded through hell to get you back

And the fear, flashing up from an underlying simmer, that the you then and the you now are so irreconcilably different that there's only one of you he can truly love

As they fold you into the kind of hug that only old friends share, the first difference they notice is that your heart doesn't beat in time with theirs the way they're used to - and it's their revelation

He had enough love in his heart for who you were - and it grew to love you back into his life - and more again to hold both of you in the current one. He has enough for every piece of who you are

Nadia

She's ... humbled, a little

The you that she knows and loves now is someone who has faced down the terrifying and illogical with her, who has supported her through the rejuvenation of an entire city

But the person standing in front of her reminds her more of the person who first walked in through the Palace gates

You're ... normal

Not in a bad way at all, but - you look like every other citizen her carriage passes on her way through the streets. She's reminded all over again how important seeing you in her dream was

Because if you hadn't been pointed out to her, if your first proper meeting hadn't been you freeing her from three years of nightmare plagued sleep, she would have never thought to seek you out

So when the you from the past seems surprised to see the elusive Countess, not nearly as well-known as her extravagant husband

All she really wants to do is thank you by showing you your worth

Muriel

Well. This is awkward. And that's coming from him

There's a well of emotions swirling in him as he looks at you, at the you that Asra left the hut to live with, at the you that took his only found family from him, at the you he came to resent

Because if the worst he can see when he looks at you is someone who captured more of his friend's attention than he did -

What do you see when you look at him?

The you from the past wouldn't have known him when he was retired and forgotten, the you from the past would've known him when he was a gladiator

Or more accurately, when he was the Count's executioner

He's not sure it's good for either of you to be looking at each other

But he can't turn away, and that's because not only do you not seem to be afraid of him, you won't stop looking at him

Your gaze feels the same. Exposing. Open. And though this one is considerably less affectionate - safe, somehow

Portia

She is both starstruck and deeply disappointed

Starstruck because the person she's looking at seems a lot more put together than who you are now, if a little less ... developed

Your magic hovers around you like an old friend and your eyes seem a little more sure about where they want to look

And that's exactly why she's also a little disappointed

Because you aren't like the person she loves now in that way. Who you are now is always looking, always soaking up the world around you like a sponge, because so much of it is still new to you

And nothing seems new to the past you - not even her

She's so happy to take your hands in hers and ask you all about who you've been and collect all the stories and fill in all the gaps she can, to better know how you got to where you are now

And then when the visit's over, she'll happily wave goodbye and walk forward to who you are now

But not without a word of encouragement to her darling first

Lucio

Oh. Ohhh boy

You see, he was fortunate to meet you when you knew fairly little enough to encounter him with an open mind. By the time you learned about his horrible past, you knew his present self

But past you ... past you seems to know quite a bit more

And he doesn't like the way you look at him

There's an edge of uneasiness to the way he plasters on a smile and loudly calls your name, only to be met with a gaze that's polite at best

You're not supposed to be polite to him, you're supposed to love him, to want him, to admire him when he's done good and call him out when he's done bad and forgive him when he tries to do better

At the same time, this is the version of you whose death he knows he's responsible for. It makes him wonder if he's a bad person for being relieved that you changed before meeting him

He'll be happy to leave - but he does manage an apology, first

[melanieph321]

Kenan Yildiz x Reader - The Costume

+18

I'm dead 😭😭 who ever edited this image may the lord bless you and your children, and their children's children. 🙏🙏

This look on him is so hilarious, I don't know why!

Summary - Kenan wants you to wear matching costumes for a party. But you warn him why this is a bad idea. A VERY bad idea.

Enjoy! 🤭

"Come on Y/N. Please come out and let me see you."

"No, Kenan. I simply refuse."

You heard him sigh behind the dressing room curtains. "Come on, baby. We said we would dress up together for Weston's costume party. All of my teammates' girlfriends are going to match each other."

"Kenan, I am not dressing up as a gladiatrix." The curtains drew open as you stepped out of the small dressing room. It was evident, the disappointment on Kenan's face seeing you back in your regular clothes. "It's not happening baby. I'm sorry." You handed him back the costume that he had picked out for you. Although it fit you well, it just wasn't your style.

"Well, I'm still going as a gladiator." He stated bitterly.

"You do that Kenan, you do that."

Despite your firm decision, the days leading up to the event consisted solemnly of your boyfriend insisting that the two of you dress up in matching costumes. "Please baby, please. Did I tell you that there will be a price for the best dressed couple? You know how much I hate to lose, don't you baby."

"Kenan." Your sigh was heavy. "I told you that I'm willing to dress up as anything but a gladiatrix."

"But why?" He cried and rightfully so, considering that one of Kenan's favorite movies was The Gladiator. "You'll look so good. Like a Worrier."

"No, Kenan. I'll look stupid, all to satisfy the male gaze."

"Is that what this is about?" Kenan crossed his arms in suspicion. "You think by weaning the gladiatrix costume you're going to become sexualized by guys at the party."

"'Duh. What else. I'm going to show more skin than what is necessary. And I'm sure that the women of ancient Rome didn't wear push up bras."

"Your words made Kenan chuckle, his adorable smile getting on your every nerve."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"That you'll be sexualized. No." Kenan said. "We're talking about my teammates Y/N, They wouldn't do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Besides, don't all girls dress a bit loose during these things. It's normal, no?"

There was no getting through to him. Kenan was standing firm on the matter. "You know what fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes, fine. I'll dress up for the party and I'll have a great time doing it. But don't come crying to me once you realize why this is a bad idea."

"Trust me." Kenan grinned. "I won't."

Eventually the night of the party came around, with Kenan picking you up while dressed as a handsome gladiator. You, on the other hand, wore a long coat, with long sleeves to protect you from the winter cold.

"You look beautiful, baby. Your makeup, I mean."

"Thank you Kenan. That's really sweet of you to say."

He leaned forward in the car, pressing his soft lips against your jaw. "I'm really happy that you changed your mind about the costume. You'll see, we'll be the best dressed couple for sure."

You made an effort to smile at him, a stiff smile, knowing what was coming was nothing short of disastrous. Having dated Kenan for the last two years, you were aware of his proud attachment to you. It was almost territorial, meaning Kenan was easily jealous whenever others became aware of you. Other men, that is.

"Hey, you made it!"

Upon arriving at the party, you and Kenen were greeted at the door by the host himself. Weston McKennie, dressed as a very convincing Ninja Turtle.

"You look awesome, Wes. Nice party."

"Thank you, K. The two of you can hang your jackets upstairs. I'll meet you guys around back."

"Okay."

The party was nice indeed. Most of Kenan's teammates were present, and their friends, who brought other friends. It was a bit crowded actually, with Westons villa crawling with people dressed up as anything from cartoon characters, superheroes and historical figures like Julio Cesar. You let Kenan emerge with it all while you headed upstairs to get rid of your coat. There you made the final touch ups to your costume, mainly polishing your plastic sword and pushing up your already suffocating breast. But hey, if this was the only way to prove a pint, so be it.

It wasn't that you were uncomfortable with having all eyes on you. It actually boost your confidence, adding an alluring groove to your walk. However, while all eyes on you was exciting and arousing, you preferred the gaze of one man and one man only."

"Y/N?"

As you returned downstairs, exposed in your gladiatrix costume, a wave of curious mumbles followed you as you sought out your boyfriend who stood chatting with his teammates. As you tapped him on the shoulder with your sword he turned his head, his eyes growing wider than you've ever seen them before.

"How do I look?" You said, batting your lashes.

"Look…" Kenan stammered as he temporarily lost his trail of thought. He regarded your costume with a longing gaze. Admiring the length of your worrier dress, which cut way above your knees, the draft being ridiculously swift.

"I— you look."

"Damn, Y/N. You look like fire." Weston appeared behind Kenan, he too, taking sudden interest in your costume."

"Fire?" You chuckled. "No, I'm supposed to be a gladiatrix."

"Yes you are."

"Hey." Kenan hissed, a slight flush to his cheeks.

Weston chuckled. "Sorry man. But you have to admit you're girlfriend looks hot in her costume. Hotter than you."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Kenan!" You protested as he without warning grabbed a hold of your wrist dragging you with him through the house. "Is something wrong baby? What's gotten you so upset?"

He threw you a poisonous gaze over his shoulder, his voice slightly changed. "You know exactly what's wrong."

To this you smile. Your boyfriend, the one encouraging you to look the way you looked, barely lasted minute a minute seeing you in it. Utter jealousy overwhelming him as he led you through his teammates house, forcing you to join him in the nearest bathroom. There he let you go, supporting himself against the sink while struggling to yield his rising temper.

You tilted your head, regarding him with a devious grin. "Do you have to pee or something?"

Kenan raised his head, frustration in his eyes. "You think this is funny, don't you?"

"A little." You shrugged.

Kenan stepped away from the sink, regaining his posture before approaching you with slow steps.

"Kenan, baby." You chuckled nervously, lowering your gaze, eyes expanding at the sight of the outline of your boyfriend's trousers.

"Look what you've done to me." He said. "In front of everyone, you've left me this eager to have you."

"Ehm, sorry." You were backed up against a wall, Kenan, bowing his lips towards your ear.

"On your knees, now."

A shiver ran down your spine, the sudan shock causing a damp between your thighs. But as your knees folded beneath you, Kenan acted swiftly, changing his mind boy turning your body around. With arm around your waist he had you arch against him, his hard erection putting pressure against your exposed pantties.

"God, I should've never let you out of the house in that costume."

"Told you."

Kenan chuckled, adjusting your hair to rest over your shoulder he could kiss you. You tasted each other while he unbuckled his leather belt, dropping his pants to the bathroom floor. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard."

"How hard?" You moaned, your nipples having grown stiff against the wall.

"As hard as you like me to, baby."

"Good. Now get in with it."

You may have won the best dressed couple of the party, who knows? With the loud music pounding the walls of the house, you and Kenan failed to leave the bathroom for the entirety of that night, occupying yourself with some pounding of your own.

The End

[in1-nutshell]

After seeing the ophelia in idw posts I'm really curious about what would Ironhold be like in idw like,

Would they also leave the decepticons? If so, what made them leave? Did their father also shoot them in this universe? Did they realise that their faction had strayed too far from its original goal? Did they defect to the autobots? Would the autobots really accept them? Or do they go neutral?

But if they don't leave, how did they feel about Megatron leaving? In either of those scenarios, what is their relationship with the decepticons? The autobots? Where do they go after the war is over?

I just really like them a lot :D

Here comes Ironhold!

IDW Ironhold

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Angst, Mention of injury, Cybertronian reader

IDW/MTMTE

They were a young gladiator when they first met Megatron.

A big fan of Megatron’s work, both in the arena and his writings.

Megatron was a bit curious about the young bot who seemed to follow him almost anywhere they were allowed to go.

At first it was a bit annoying to have a second shadow.

But over time he got used to having them try and chat his audials off.

Megatron walks down the corridor. Rapid pedes steps are heard. The young bot starts calling his name. Megatron: “Yes… umm…” I-035: “I’m I-035, sir!” Megatron winces a bit at the word ‘sir’. He wasn’t that old… Megatron hums as he continues walking. I-035 follows closely behind him. I-035: “There is so much I want to talk to you about! Like how did you find the perfect moves to execute a bot? When did you learn? Do you have a teacher? Can you be my teacher!?” Random gladiator bot: “Will you shut it! I think you’d do us all a favor you miserably little—” The bot stops once Megatron’s glare landed on him. The bot grumbles as he purposely bumps into the younger bot. I-035 grumbles a bit at the shove, but quickly replaced by a smile looking at Megatron. Megatron gives them a faint smile as they continue their walk.

Constantly chatting about their upcoming fights and praising his signature death blows.

He didn’t want to admit it, but the younger bot was slowly growing on him.

The older mech even started helping them train.

Megatron found himself going to watch their fights, admittedly impressed and smiling when he saw them execute one of his moves with extreme precision.

He couldn’t feel any prouder of his pupil.

Sadly, their happy times came to an end when Megatron was sent to another arena.

It would be a couple of years before Megatron would reunite with them once again.

Megatron is walking through the crowd of bots at his recent gathering. He spots a familiar bot dragging someone to him. It was Deadlock. Deadlock: “Megatron! Megatron!” Megatron smiles at the new Decepticon. Deadlock: “I want you to meet a friend of mine.” I-035 stares wide optic at the larger grey mech. A smile starts forming. They take their servo out. I-035: “Megatron, long time no, see?” Megatron mirrors their smile and shakes it before noticing the badge on their chassis. Megatron: “I see you chose a side.” The glistening Decepticon insignia matches the light in their optics. I-035: “Just following an old mentors pedesteps, and hoping he might still have some things to teach me?” Megatron chuckles a bit. Megatron: “Maybe this old mentor wants the both of you in his inner circle.” Deadlock and I-035 look at each other in surprise. They look at each other, almost as if having a silent conversation before I-035 turns to the grey mech. I-035: “We’d be honored Megatron.”

It wouldn’t be long before Megatron would give them a ‘proper’ name.

Quickly, the name Ironhold became associated with the causes goal.

The old ones at least…

It would also be a couple of months before the war would have started.

To the Autobots, the name Ironhold was one of the most feared names on the battlefield.

They were infamously known for their efficiency of taking out bots and strongholds assigned to them.

It only made sense being one of Megatron’s most trusted Con’s.

To the Decepticons, it was a bit of a different story.

They were still known for their efficiency and work, but they were a good bot.

Ironhold often looked out for their fellow soldiers and ‘family’.

Throughout the years, they even earned the title as ‘Megatron’s Child’.

They were a bit embarrassed by this at first, but when Megatron soon calling them ‘his child’, they took in the title with stride.

There was no doubt that the two had grown closer, fighting alongside each other as one.

But as the war grew on, Ironhold started finding themselves getting closer with some of the other Con’s as Megatron’s fixation on Prime grew.

It would also be the time where they would begin to have their doubts about the meaning of the Decepticon cause.

It was Starscream who made them question certain things in the cause.

As much as they knew what kind of mech the Second in Command was, they still held some respect for him.

He wasn’t in that position for nothing.

And while his methods and tactics were… a bit much for Ironhold’s taste, they still respected him.

To Starscream, Ironhold was a puzzle.

How could some bot be efficient and ruthless in battle and still find it in their spark to trust and look after others?

He hated how they could be so kind and helpful to others.

This was war!

No one is supposed to be that kind!

Those kind of bots were the first ones to offline during the first DAYS of the war.

Ironhold mainly left Starscream to his own devices.

But Megatron started hurting him caught their attention.

Hurting him as punishment they understood, but not for no reason or on pseudo evidence.

Megatron launches Starscream across the room. The Seeker landing on his back. Megatron marches over and goes to punch him. The blow never came. Megatron looked to his side to see Ironhold barely holding his arm from harming the Seeker. Ironhold: “Megatron it was not him! The files were not his fault!” Starscream takes this moment to curl up closer to the wall, away from the two larger bots. Megatron: “Someone needs to pay! Or are you offering to take his place?” Ironhold: “What I’m saying is to get your helm out of your tailpipe and find some actual evidence! Not everything that goes wrong here is Starscream’s fault. We are bots who make mistakes from time to time.” Megatron sneers at them. They stand their ground. Their hold on his arm never falters. Ironhold: “Why don’t you go train or take it out on an Autobot if you still need to punch something?” Megatron roughly gets his arm from their grasp. Megatron: “This is the last time you do something like that again. Understood?” Ironhold: “Understood Megatron.” Megatron brushes past them and heads out the door. Ironhold slowly walks up to Starscream and offers him their servo. Starscream tries to get up by himself, but finds it a bit harder to do, so he does take their servo. The pair stands in silence. Starscream: “Some Decepticon you are.” Ironhold rolls their optics. Ironhold: “You’re welcome, Screamer. Let’s get you to the med bay.”

Soundwave was the mech who grounded them to the cause.

Working with Soundwave was a regular occurrence seeing that if Megatron was not involved with planning, it was them.

Soundwave didn’t mind Ironhold, finding them to be one of the only other good Con’s around that was still loyal to the cause.

This would naturally introduce them to the minicon’s.

Ironhold was one of the few Con’s that Soundwave trusted to keep them safe.

The minicons liked Ironhold enough to not cause too much trouble.

Soundwave enters the room. Ironhold has Rumble pinned with one servo to the wall while reading a data pad in the other. Frenzy was duct taped to the opposite wall. Lazerbeak and Buzzsaw were perched on a shelf. Ravage was on the berth stretching. Soundwave: “Ironhold. Explain.” Ironhold without looking up from their datapad: “I told Rumble I needed 3 minutes of quiet to read or else he would get sent to the wall.” Rumble: “I thought you meant like Frenzy!” Ironhold: “Ran out of tape. You had this coming Rumble.” Ironhold puts down the datapad and gently places Rumble back on the ground. Rumble: “You’re lucky I’m such a nice bot and not bringin’ out my pliers on your pedes!” Ironhold: “You won’t do that.” Rumble: “Really? And what makes you so sure?” Ironhold smirks at him. Ironhold: “You like me too much to do that.” Rumble starts stuttering and gets warm. Ironhold starts walking out the room. Soundwave: “You are responsible if he is broken.” Ironhold shrugs and begins to walk out the room. Soundwave telepathically: “Next time, you need to be more direct with Rumble. This horrible flirting is only going to give us all a helmache at the end of the day.” Ironhold feels their entire frame on fire. Soundwave telepathically: “Everyone knows Ironhold. Do not even attempt to deny it.” Ironhold telepathically: “…Please don’t tell Megatron.” Soundwave telepathically: “Try different tactics and we will see.” Ironhold telepathically: “Deal.”

Ironhold’s view on fighting started changing as the war dragged on for years.

Their fighting style changed as soon as they all arrived on Earth.

The Cons just thought it was their way of changing things up a bit, spicing up the old routine.

Ironhold just really didn’t want to hurt the humans.

They had nothing to do with their war, why drag them into it?

Soundwave and the mini’s had caught them saving couple of humans before, but never said anything about it.

Why would they?

It wasn’t like it was hindering Ironhold’s performance.

But they were not the only ones to stop the giant con getting humans to safety.

Many Bot including Optimus had seen Ironhold getting in danger for getting a few humans to safety.

It confused a lot of bots.

Ironhold never once thought of deserting the cause, much less defecting.

They would never betray their family like that… right?

It was a bad day.

Megatron had decided to go after a city of humans that were well away from their targeted area.

It raised a lot of warning signs for Ironhold.

This wasn’t a military advantage or their target, he was doing this for fun.

Ironhold tried to stop him, reminding him of their plans.

He didn’t listen as he rained fire on the city below.

Ironhold did their best to get as many humans to safety until the bots came.

Some of their fellow Cons tried to tell them to let it go, to let Megatron do what he does best.

Thankfully, the Bots do arrive on time.

Everything was getting too much.

The guilt was festering in their tanks seeing the human’s eyes filled with fear, anger, sadness, and so many more emotions.

They had to gently push some who were still in shock from the explosions and the fact that a Decepticon had saved them.

Was this how everyone looked at them?

They didn’t like it.

Ironhold spots Megatron aiming his fusion canon at an injured Autobot trying to shield some humans with his frame. Ironhold: “MEGATRON!” Ironhold pulls back his arm as the shot was fired upward. Megatron turned to them confused and enraged. Megatron: “Ironhold! What is the meaning of this!” Ironhold: “This isn’t even our target Megatron! We are nowhere near it! Why?!” Megatron gets his arm back. Ironhold: “We need to regroup if we are going to make it—” Megatron: “No.” Ironhold slowly realizes that this action was indeed because he wanted to. Ironhold: “These humans have done nothing for our war. Why drag them into it?” Megatron sneers at them. Megatron: “Is that insubordination my child.” Ironhold winced at the venom in their normally endearing nickname. Ironhold: “Megatron—” Megatron: “Speak again and I will terminate you myself.” Ironhold and the Autobot behind them optics widened. Ironhold stood in front of the Autobot and humans protectively. Ironhold: “If this is what the Decepticon’s stand for, I will not—” BANG! Ironhold’s frame fell on top of the Bot and humans limp, with a smoldering hole in their chassis. The battlefield had gone quiet. Megatron starts walking back from the limp frame. Megatron: “There is no use for traitors in my ranks.”

The Con’s follow their leader in shock.

Optimus and Ratchet race to the bot under Ironhold’s frame.

To their surprise, they were still online, barely managing to keep themselves from crushing the bot underneath them and the humans.

Ironhold looked at the Prime and bowed their helm.

Expecting death.

They did not expect him to tell the doctor to patch them up.

They were taken to their base where Ratchet could properly treat them before being taken into a different room for interrogation.

Ironhold half expected Prowl or Jazz to be in charge of this part.

They did not expect Optimus himself to come in.

No one heard what took place inside that room.

But after 3 days, Optimus had announced to the others that Ironhold would be joining their ranks.

This surprised a lot of bots.

Many simply refused to believe a Con as rotten as they were could never be an Autobot.

It was a rough transition.

Ironhold staying close to Optimus and Ratchet at all times before slowly integrating with the others.

They wanted nothing to do with the former Con and they did not blame them one bit.

Their saving grace came in the form of a familiar bot.

Ironhold is looking down while sitting in the corner refueling bit by bit. Smaller pedes come into their view. Ironhold: “If you are going to dump sludge on my helm again I—oh, it’s you.” It was the injured bot they had saved on that fateful day. He had a smile on his face. A kind one. It had been a while since they had gotten one of those. The bot sat down in the seat next to them holding his own cube of energon. Ironhold: “Don’t you have friends you’d rather sit with?” Hot Rod: “I was hoping you’d be one of them. I’m Hot Rod by the way.”

The conversation was a bit awkward at the beginning, mainly taking in the form of a friendly interegation before the bot left.

Ironhold was a bit surprised that the next day Hot Rod had returned to the same spot.

He even brought Bumblebee to chat with as well.

Slowly but surely ironhold started integrating into the ranks.

Ironhold knew that there were things they did that would forever stay in the minds of these bots… but they were grateful enough to call some their friends, dare they say family.

That word was a sacred one now.

The bot swore to only give the title to those worthy of it.

Truly worthy.

They made a mistake before they do not intend on doing it again.

It would be a while before Ironhold would return to the battlefield.

Mainly as a precautionary to the Cons and to the Bots getting used to them.

Thanks to some frame altercations, a fresh paintjob, and an energetic Hot Rod by their side, Ironhold soon began fighting for the Autobots.

Did it hurt to see the faces of their former ‘family’?

Yes.

Did it hurt to see that they did not recognize them?

Yes.

Did it hurt when they shielded their new friends from fusion blasts and fire?

Oh, most certainly.

On a happier note, Drift had also defected meaning they had one extra friend.

It took a lot of effort for them to start making amends, though it was mainly centered around trust.

As said before, as big and ruthless as Ironhold could get, they were still a good bot.

Timeskip after the war…

The war was over.

The Decepticons had lost.

Ironhold was at a lost.

For the first time in their life, they could stop fighting.

It felt… weird.

The sight of Cybertron made them sick to their tanks.

Too many painful wounds had been reopened.

Especially after what Megatron had done…

So, they did the next best thing, they were one of the first to sign up on Rodimus’s crew.

Ironhold is standing next to Rodimus on the bridge as the ship is starting to take off. Ironhold: “Engine’s are almost ready. I think you should take a seat Captain.” Rodimus makes a face at them. Rodimus: “Hold, what did we talk about titles?” Ironhold: “Its only out of respect Rodimus.” Rodimus: “Well, here’s an order, you can ONLY call me by my name.” Ironhold chuckles a bit. Ironhold: “Understood… Rodimus.” Rodimus: “That’s better. You know what ‘Hold, I don’t see this day possibly going wrong.” Ironhold gives him a serious look. Ironhold: “You shouldn’t say that Rodimus.” Rodimus: “And why?” Ironhold pinches their nose: “Because when someone does say that, something immediately goes wrong.” Rodimus: “You really believe in that—” BOOM! Cue the quantum engine fiasco. Ironhold accidentally falls on top of Rodimus due to the shaking. Ironhold: “I TOLD YOU!” Rodimus just wheezes as he tries to get off from underneath their giant frame.

[lord-squiggletits]

i know i’m late to the conversation—i just watched the movie this month—but i feel compelled to say this because i was genuinely shocked (still am) to see that the overwhelming takeaway for many viewers was the "d-16/megatron was right" bs. while it’s understandable to sympathize with his anger and grief, justifying his actions in the end or framing them as entirely right feels so deeply misguided. what surprised me even more was the tendency to shift the blame on orion/optimus, as though he was solely responsible for d-16’s downfall. it’s disheartening to see orion/optimus being villainized so much. his efforts to reason with d-16 came from a place of desperation and hope, as he tried to prevent the escalation of violence. at that point, d-16 had already begun to spiral into his unchecked rage, disregarding the safety of those around him. to see that nuance overlooked, with orion being faulted for a situation that was far beyond his control (the whole "don't be like sentinel" thing is often used to shit on op lol), is genuinely baffling.

while i love that the movie showed the tragedy of d-16’s arc and even empathize with his situation, painting his actions as justified—and vilifying orion/optimus in the process—feels like a misreading of the movie’s core message. sorry but i was so happy to see your post about the movie, it was tiring to see so many 'megatron was right about this and that' comments.

Oh man if you're new to this fandom, you really ought to know that this place is full of people who glorify terrorism and war in the name of "justified revolution" and it doesn't really matter what Dee/Megatron does or how horrible/over-the-top it is, he's oppressed or he's mentally ill or he's just plain upset which means that everything he does is justified and questioning him makes you evil.

It's so funny because I hoped for sure that a continuity where both OP and Megatron were working class individuals before the war would reduce this kind of shit take (compare to something like archivist/librarian OP and gladiator Megs in TFP or CBV, or cop OP and miner Megs in IDW1), but unfortunately this fandom literally still found a way to blame Orion for everything even though he suffered the exact same things Dee did..... and furthermore Orion literally was the rebel challenging the system compared to Dee who wanted to keep his head low and not cause trouble so honestly at this point I just think the fandom (and somehow new fans whose first exposure to TF is this movie) purely sides with Megatron on everything as either a knee-jerk reaction or some misguided attempt at being counterculture and intelligent.

People get sooooo mad when you tell them that unbridled rage and killing everyone who disagrees with you isn't a good social/political strategy, but then again this is a problem that is universal to humanity and not just the Transformers fandom. It's just a shame that so many people looked at a movie that blatantly spells out what the moral of the story is, and has all of the protagonists be working class oppressed people fighting against a tyrannical system, and their takeaway from it is still basically "fascism is okay if you're mad enough about it and if your friends try to stop you it's a sign that they're centrist liberals who think punching Nazis makes you as bad as a Nazi." It's childish black-and-white thinking masquerading as critical literary analysis.

And at this point people pretty much just don't give a shit about Orion/Optimus and will find a way to make him the villain no matter what the context is, no matter if he also has feelings or if he also deserves to be respected/listened to/validated as Megatron's long-time (possibly lifelong) friend. If ppl look at the way Dee treated Orion and their other friends and DON'T see what was concerning about that then there's really no saving them until they deradicalize a little and learn what usually happens when "kill all the bad people until society is a utopia" is implemented as a governing party's primary strategy.

[cordate-chordata]

Hey this is a weird thing to ask but do you have relationship headcanons for knockout x soundwave

An unusual question to get, so it could be called weird, I suppose, but I'm happy to be asked this! My favourite kind of weird! :D I haven't drawn them in years, but it's still a ship I really like

Answer under the cut

I do have headcanons about them, I guess. They depend on the scenario they're in, though. Like, what their life is like. I most of all like assuming that Transformers Prime played out as it did canonically, and KO and SW then got together afterwards. The exact How and Why? That's more murky. There's multiple cool ways to go about it.

There's a narrative one could thread about KO helping SW get out of the shadowzone. Which is sweet and all. I prefer a narrative where SW gets out on his own. Which, honestly, makes it trickier to spin a narrative on how they ended up together. If Knock Out had helped him, that would have created a reason for why they were interacting already. Without that, something else needs to be the reason why they get in touch again.

Which brings me more into headcanon area and not just plot threading. One of my headcanons for KO is that he's not a particularly good fit for staying an autobot. I see him as someone who'd do good being a neutral faction.

Soundwave is a decepticon through and through, for multiple reasons - political ideals, sunk cost falacy of having lost his cassettes safe for Laserbeak, more of a fighter who sticks to his goals than KO, tunnel vision, etc. I headcanon him to be in a lot of emotional pain with the decepticons disbanding. I like the idea of him begrudgingly coming to Knock Out for help with something (i.e. the best option of a medic available to him), and as they get talking (one-sided talking (at first?)) Knock Out's disenchantment with any faction starts rubbing off on him, OR, starts disillusioning him from how highly he holds the decepticon cause in his mind. Soundwave seems stupid to me with how he keeps holding onto the war instead of noticing how it's never going to achieve his goal of equality between all Cybertronian castes. He's not seeing the full picture whatsoever. Well, "stupid"… mean to say when I believe his reasons are tied to being mentally unwell and traumatized from his losses. His judgement isn't sound; let's leave it at that.

So then they become a neutral duo. Yippie!!! Trio with Laserbeak.

I headcanon Soundwave to have a face under his mask, which is half broken. So it's funny KO has another partner with a broken eye, since I hc him to have been in a relationship with Breakdown. Also sharp-toothed Soundwave supremacy. Also on the broken side the fangs are always visible because his lips and cheek are gone there oops

Also I hc Soundwave to fully lay off his vow of silence, but still not talk much.

I hc Knock Out to be more into bulky mechs (Breakdown, Optimus), but he thinks Soundwave's sleek appearance is attractive in an entirely different way - assuming SW remains in his Prime form, WHICH I want him to because that's my fav Soundwave design, even if others are really good too. KO finds records of gladiator Soundwave someday, where he still looks bulky AF, and loses his marbles over it. Confronting Soundwave about it earns him the information that that look was due to still having had all his cassettes. That info is like a punch to Knock Out's face, making him feel like shit. It becomes a depressing moment lmao sorry

I hc Soundwave to be really old, one of the first Cybertronians to be sparked. Knock Out on the other hand is young in comparisson, having been forged not super long before the war broke out. I like to think he's only just finished with his medical studies and established himself a slight bit in the field up until that point. I don't hc this because of an age gap or smth. I just like viewing SW as this old entity who was still very raw in the way he came to be and took his shape. Since the birth mechanism of Cybertronians is very wishy washy in canon, I have my own headcanons about that: Early Cybertronian's sparks simply appeared randomly on Cybertron and gathered mass around them to form their bodies - Soundwave was one of those. This spontaneous creation became less and less, and when it did happen, it became harder for the sparks to find unused ressources to form a body. Existing Cybertronians started forging bodies for those sparks, and also (maybe; not sure if I'm satisfied with this idea) came up with mechanisms with which to channel new sparks, easing them onto the planet, as the perimeters for them to appear in "the wild" became worse over time. Knock Out's spark appears towards the end of a time where sparks could still be eased in and could be eased in semi-frequently, but not long after that they started to wane and stop appearing at all. So he's the result of a time where only a few Cybertronians were worried about too few new sparks, and then after he'd been alive for a bit, it became a big deal with less and less and then no sparks coming. He didn't care for it much because he was busy with other things and hadn't been around for long enough to see it as his issue. Also he's just not the sort of person to care about that. KO just... doesn't seem like someone who's been alive for ages, to me.

That's a lot of headcanons about their lives separate from each other. What about them together? I don't have many headcanons there, I suppose. I like to think they'd co-exist nicely together. Not a super duper over the top heart eyes for each other couple, but something more mellow, always there for each other but not broadcast as a huge deal. They become deeply tied to each other and do yearn for each other's company, but can exist just fine alone, y'know? Soundwave causes Knock Out to be a bit more serious and less vain sometimes, and Knock Out causes Soundwave to be more lighthearted and show his shitlord memer side more often, when they're around each other.

I can see Knock Out be very caring towards Laserbeak, even if, if pointed out, he'll deny any sort of motherly or fatherly energy he gives off when with the cassette. And yeah, I subscribe to Laserbeak being sentient. At some point I read that they're supposed to be a mindless add-on in Prime (or was it stated in the show?), but nuh-uh. That's a mute mini-bot with no humanoid form.

I think that's all I got! Thanks for asking!

[aquaquadrant]

Thinking about the fact that in both worlds XB and Keralis find each other. Could you tell us more about Papa AI's and BX's relationship? Like it's implied/kinda stated that AI took BX from the arena saving him/getting a very loyal follower. Does AI really care for BX and vice versa?

OHOHOHO, i’m so glad you asked, my friend. alisker and bx’s backstory is something that doesn’t really have much relevance to the main plot of HTP, and likely won’t even come up except in little hints here and there, but i couldn’t resist developing it anyways so y’all are in for a treat 😂

bx was indeed a gladiator at the arena- an unwilling one, i might add. he was captured when he was fairly young (older kid/younger teen) after an unfortunate death put him at spawn at just the wrong time, and forced to fight for the entertainment of hels’ most wealthy and powerful denizens. bx quickly took to it, however, becoming a skilled and vicious fighter. as the years passed, he ascended the ranks until he was put up against the arena’s reigning champion; helsknight.

bx lost that fight, badly, respawning back in his cage (all gladiators were forced to set their spawns with respawn anchors, so dying in the arena wouldn’t set them free). to his surprise, he had a visitor; the newly self-appointed head of new helington, alisker.

alisker was a young business mogul who’d made his fortune in diamond mining (some say his extra eyes granted him the ability to see through stone- or perhaps he was just lucky) and built a thriving crime syndicate from it, ruling the city with an iron fist. as any player in the upper class, alisker had attended these gladiator fights and taken a shine to bx. he bought bx’s freedom from the arena- on the condition that bx work for him.

bx accepted the deal, but it wasn’t necessarily a happy arrangement. he didn’t mind the type of enforcement work he did for alisker, but his years of gladiator fighting had left him wary, distrustful, and borderline feral. he was also hiding a pretty significant secret; he was a guardian hybrid. out of water, there was nothing about him to give it away, and that’s how he liked to keep it. he knew his fellow hybrid gladiators were seen as less than human by some, and he didn’t want to jeopardize his newly found freedom.

when or how exactly they got together, i’m not sure. i will say that their dynamic initially wasn’t the healthiest, considering the power imbalance between them, but it wasn’t bad in terms of hels standards. alisker was patient and very clear about his intentions, and eventually bx let down his walls. alisker figuring out bx was a guardian hybrid happened by accident (a mishap with a water elevator) but his reaction was what convinced bx that alisker could be trusted; alisker assured bx that it didn’t matter, and promised to keep his secret. and since then, alisker has earned bx’s unending loyalty and dedication.

things did get a little complicated when alisker met atlas and started funding hels tek. at first it was just ordinary redstone contraptions and farms, but then hels tek started looking towards hybrids as an infinite resource. clearly, this posed a threat to bx. but alisker decided to continue funding atlas’s work because it was the best way to keep a close eye on him, and ensure his search for hybrids never came close to bx (as well as communicate that bx was off limits). after all, the best way to control potential threats is to have them under your thumb.

overall, i’d say that alisker and bx care for each other as best as any two players in hels can. it might not always be the most wholesome or healthy relationship, since neither of them really know what that looks like, but they love in their own way and they’d defend each other to the end. because if alisker is going to ever be the ‘king’ of hels, he needs his queen by his side.

(keralis calls xb ‘princess’, alisker calls bx ‘queenie.’)

[cosmics-beings]

to me at least it's always interesting seeing people condemn megatron for starting his revolt, especially when looking at tfp or idw megatron. while i really can't excuse the shitfire the deception movement became, people getting mad at him or not really understanding why megatron snapped or why he was angry at opitmus in prime for getting the primeship or why he went violent in idw...it just shows that a lot of people don't understand a) that he was a slave and b.) revolutions aren't really won peacefully.

but going back to point a.), especially in prime, the alternative for megatron was either fighting in the gladiatorial pit until he was eventually killed, or going back to slavery. while he did get his glory in the rings of kaon, there was still very much a dynamic of, he had to do this, and eventually die doing it and before that, he was a miner, a slave.

when megatron invited optimus into his space and taught him, he was very vulnerable and allowed an outsider, someone who had privilege over him, to be in his circle and to be close to him. someone who understood the oppression he faced by the primes and by the caste system, someone who was still privileged, but someone who he trusted. and someone who also knew what he had to lose if he didn't win his revolution, or if he wasn't given the position of the prime. and more importantly, megtaron assumed that optimus was someone who understood that peaceful protests and activism weren't going to work for someone like him, a slave. so mind you, when it came down to it, and opitmus was seen as the better candidate for a prime simply because he was peaceful and megatron wasn't...well...shit i'd lost my shit too. because again, the alternatives for megatron in his mind, if he did not become a prime, were slavery - whether a miner or gladiator. optimus had nothing to lose, no stakes in the same way megatron did.

so of course he snapped, of course he went evil. people try to frame it as "he started getting violent because he was upset that optimus got what he wanted' and no that wasn't the case at all. it was far more than it being something he wanted, it was something he needed. something that was going to grant him freedom and happiness and the ability to make a difference. mind you, i'd snap too.

idw is similiar. he had to make a revolt, he was a slave. he had tried peace and it didn't work, in fact whirl beat the shit out of him for being peaceful and that radicalized him. but then people feel bad for whirl

it's always interesting to me, to see fans tend to brush over why he did what he did, or call him selfish or stupid and not realizing that his freedom and bodily autonomy was on the line. this is REALLY shown in IDW.

in idw if he was caught and if he wasn't executed or imprisoned, they'd probably fuck with his mind to make him a slave again.

i say as I'm writing a fic with this premise and he is eventually broken out of that and given help and support by people he loves and the revolution is started differently

anyway, this isn't an excuse for how he completely falls off later. he becomes a tyrant, a facists, and oppressor he becomes everything he hated if not worse, much worse. and he needs to be stopped. he doesn't care about the war, that much is extremely clear in both idw and tfp. he only cares about getting to optimus, making him hurt, making him hate/blame himself, killing those close to optimus and continuously ruining his life. in idw CLEARLY he changes and becomes a good person. in tfp...eh...

but my point is, i don't think people really understand that his bodily autonomy and rights were on the line.

do i think some stuff can be said about how harmful the oppressed oppressor narrative is, yes, but that's not for this post.

[timaeuslover001]

King Harold Headcanon (AU)

King Harold was once a being called Enchnated Frogs, they were born thaw ay and not outwardly enchanted, where they were pretty similar to regular frogs but could talk, bigger and could writhe purpose of a pond for months at a time and had certain magical properties if ever in the hands of a witch.

He had a ex-girlfriend named Marina , who was always adventurous and outgoing and fun. who was also an enchanted frog but they and ended up becoming just friends she asked Harold to accompany her traveling around the world and he agreed.

On their last day before returning to their home place wanted to see beyond the palace walls. So they snuck on to the wall and saw a great pond and hid in therefor a few days.

It had great sun, ample shade and they get to see royals passing to and fro about the courtyard.

One day a beautiful blonde woman with a gold ponytail and gold earrings ran out to the courtyard upset. Ranting about something amber father and her life and she was a mix of frustrated, angry and sad.

She sat down by the lily pond and Harold curious went to go and see what she was upset about and peeked form under the lily pad and was completely taken with her Marina noticed .

When she calmed down she left and one of her gold ball earrings fell off unoticed.

Mariana was content in being on the panace grounds and wanted to leave but Harold however wanted to stay. She gave a knowing sly smile and bid him farewell.

Harold held onto it in case she came back for it, which she did the following day.

She searched every day for it for days . He held onto it purposefully just so he can see her. He’d never felt like for anyone before.

Her frustration grew every day, they were her favorite earrings. She After the 3rd day he’d figure he didn’t want to upset her more than she had been, He didn’t make it obvious but he put it on a Lily pad on a pad on the pond.

She didn’t notice at first so he decided to get her attention by making a loud enough splash that made her look up to the direction of the sound and her eye caught a glinted piece of metal in the water and made her way over to it. She was so happy to have found it.

Harold that night left the palace but desperate to figure out how was he going to have her. There had been word in the kingdom Princes Lilian was to be wed and her father was funneling all the eligible royals and princess form all over to woo her.

Just passing though Harold saw a purple haired fairy with wings passing.

He desperately got her attention. Hoping and shouting. She flew over to him and he pleaded with her to turn him human to woo a princess. The fairy, named Nova (idk just made it up but it’s the fairy godmother form Shrek 2) laughed at first and thought it’d never work, but he begged and just to give him 3 days to do it. She thought about it and made him a deal, she offered to do it if he later on marry their daughter to her son. Confused since he didn’t know fairies could have children but he agreed. She halfheartedly made the deal since she didn’t think it would work.

She changed him into a man. He had sandy brown hair and a gotee, and his clothes were green like he was before and a crown to signify his status as royalty. She warned him the spell only lasts until midnight and he better be out by then or everyone will know his secret.

He attended the “ball” but really it naught as well been a Gladiator event. The king was relentless and unscrupulous as well as his daughter Lilian. She want happy with any of the men her father drafted.

That was until Harold came in. Wooing Lilian wasn’t easy she was guarded and aloof but he seemed different than all the others. More genuine. He wasn’t a good fighter, rider, archer or anything most men could at least pride themselves in. Her father hated it.

The last and 3rd night he still hadn’t won her over and her father hated him completely and time was running out and he had begging to lose hope.

That night there was a ball, and they took a walk away from everyone else by the lily pond where he first saw her and she decided to trust her feelings and Kiss Harold. Harold was delighted to have her return his feelings.

With just 10 seconds to spare. He stayed human from that night on and the rest of his life.

They married and lived happily ever after.

[adultswim2021]

Squidbillies #45: "Confessions of a Gangrenous Mind" | June 15, 2009 - 12:00AM | S04E05

Tonight’s episode of Squidbillies mostly involves Granny just flapping her dang jaw to the other squids. She mentions Rusty’s great grandpapa, a man Early has disdain for. This doesn't actually have a pay off, because the man is shrouded in mystery and he seems to be surprised by the reveal himself at the end of the episode.

Granny begins to tell various tales about how she met the man she calls grandpapa, but keeps telling tales that mislead Rusty (and the FUCKING BEAUTIFUL bloggers watching) into thinking she’s talking about the man in question, but she’s actually talking about some random dude she gave a handy to. We never do find out who she’s talking about, as she seems to just pull the name General Sherman out of her ass, which would make the squids Yankees. This is overshadowed by Early’s realization that means they won the war, causing him to shoot his gun into the air in celebration. 

This one has a lot of flashbacks, and some bits of business where they huff gasoline and Early goes out to buy some of those bullethole decals for his truck. Also the start of the episode has Granny trying to get laid by a trucker on a CB radio. Okay, I know what a lot lizard is, but the guy on the other end of the radio conversation says he’s hauling pine cones. Is THAT trucker lingo? Is it fake trucker lingo? Was it meant to be literal? To all the truckers reading this, please illuminate me.

Granny claims sexual encounters with Rhet Butler (from Gone with the Wind), Julius “Dr. J” Erving (from the world of professional basketball), Nitro (from American Gladiators), and Jesus Christ (from S01E04 of Squidbillies). She also credits a Frankenstein monster of her own creation might’ve gotten into that sweet squid puss. 

Some of Granny’s flashbacks have to do with her being a slave, and she has a delusional memory of her and all the slaves being really happy. This is maybe the biggest laugh of the episode, and is likely inspired by a similar characterization from the withheld Disney film Song of the South. The brilliant mind that runs the Squidbillies wiki writes: “The African slaves are revealed to pick up cotton during the past.” Hey, thank you for that. That’s the best part of the episode. The rest was okay. I don’t mind this show, really.

MAIL BAG

Let's face it folx, chalet 2000 sucks and if you like or try to defend it you're retarded. facts!

It is in the running for their worst sketch, and it's a good thing they made it show-length, so you can just skip that entire episode. When that sketch where Scott plays the queen and thinks Canada is leaving the Monarchy you have to fast forward and try not to miss the next sketch. Hey, isn't it weird that that queen sketch is in a best-of? It literally might be my least-favorite sketch of theirs. Huh!

Besides Ben from Dr. Katz (which you don't like that much because you put it behind Workaholics for clicks) and Coach McGuirk do you like H. Jon Benjamin in anything else? Curious.

Folks (or folx, as some people like to say), he's referring to a twitter thread where I ranked every Comedy Central show. I am going to think about this without looking anything up. I liked him when he called into the Best Show on WFMU. I liked him as the voice of the canned vegetables on Wet Hot American Summer. I liked what little of Jon Benjamin has a Van I saw. There's a current commercial where he's the voice of a pigeon and I detest it with all of my soul. Just keeping it real.

Can I spit some real at you, kimosabe? When you said "I didn't know Adam Savage could be so savage" a few years ago...fucking hilarious. He's an okay dude though you should be nice to him. That whole scene was messed up but I think our boy came out clean. See you on the Mybusters forums, broshoes.

I think it's a good idea to just not care about Adam Savage, that way you don't have to have an opinion. I think I must have momentarily thought he was Adam Ruins Everything guy, which I would've gotten significant schadenfreude off of finding out was rude to his sister.

KON! writes:

Mick Foley aka "Mankind" has multiple claims to fame even to the non-wrestling aficionado: 1. being from Long Island 2. looking like Kevin Smith 3. officiating a wrestling match between Eric Matthews, Matthew Lawrence, and the giant redhead in an episode of Boy Meets World

BIG LOL at calling her the "giant" redhead. I know what you mean. She's large and in charge and I think of her often.

I always thought it was weird that they banned the confederate flag episode of Squidbillies considering "The Fine Ol Solution" is way worse imo

I didn't know about that episode being banned, damn!

[chocoblep]

#6: A Long Day

It had been a long day, and by the time Shev returned home from his latest job it was just past the normal dinner hour. He’d pearled Anzhi to let him know that he’d be late, but he wasn’t entirely sure how late, and his husband had agreed to hold off on getting dinner ready until he made it home. And so, when he stepped through the front door and found Kismet and Anzhi lounging on the couch and reading, he wasn’t surprised. They both looked up, Kismet smiling and Anzhi wriggling off the couch to come around it and envelop him in a hug.

“Welcome home, Silvertongue,” Anzhi crooned, rising onto his toes to press a kiss to Shev’s cheek before flitting away. “We prepped everything, but didn’t throw it in the oven yet, so I will go and do that now.”

Shev smiled. “Hope I didn’t hold everythin’ up too much.”

“You didn’t!” Anzhi called as he traipsed down the stairs. 

Kismet rose to his feet and came over to where Shev was lifting his bag from his shoulder, taking it from him. “Go hop in the shower, sweetheart, you’re filthy. We’ll have dinner ready by the time you’re out.”

Shev barked a laugh. “Straight t’the point, I see!”

“Would you have it any other way?”

“Nah.” Shev leaned over and pressed his lips to the top of Kismet’s head. “Thanks.” And then he was leading the way down the stairs and popping into the bathroom.

It wasn’t particularly big, the space dwarfed by the large tub near the back and lined with a counter on one side and a small armoire on the right. He snagged a towel out of the latter, disrobed, and then stepped into the tub, fiddling with the valves on the shower to turn it on and yelping when the water that hit him in the face was ice cold. He immediately stepped out of the flow, waiting for the water to heat.

It had been a long day, but not a bad day. He’d gotten to work with a few old friends from his early mercenary days, caught up with one of the former gladiators that fought with and against him on the Bloodsands, and made a little Miqo’te girl smile when he’d given her a bit of sea glass he’d found on the beach earlier that afternoon. As far as jobs went, he wasn’t complaining, but there was still a part of him that was melancholy. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy; he absolutely was. He had a husband who adored him, and another… well, partner, he supposed, who also cared for him a good deal. He could choose which jobs he accepted because they weren’t hurting monetarily, and Kismet’s island resort was beginning to gain ground. But there was something he’d been feeling the loss of keenly, and that was his bi-monthly Sixday nights. 

Ever since The Warded Ring had closed, he’d been trying to fill that void with other things, but nothing really seemed to scratch the itch that fighting all out with another person did. It wasn’t that fight clubs were few and far between… He just liked the assurance that he wouldn’t kill his opponent or be too maimed to do his job the next day, and the shields at the Ring had afforded him that sense of security.

He spent his shower thinking about alternative outlets that he could employ to get that same result, but by the time he stepped out of the bathroom, freshly washed and re-dressed, he hadn’t come up with anything else.

“What’s wrong?” Anzhi asked immediately when he saw his face.

“Nothin’,” Shev answered. “Was just thinkin’ abou’ Ring.”

Anzhi and Kismet looked at each other before Kismet spoke. “I know Nightingale House is going through a remodel, but they’re going to keep one of the mats, at least. I’d be happy to go against you anytime. And I’m willing to bet Anzhi’d be more than happy to watch us sweat.”

“Oh, you know me so well,” Anzhi said with a grin, moving to pull dinner out of the oven.

Shev’s stomach growled. “Aye, I’d like tha’. It’s just a bittersweet thing, y’know?”

“Understandable. It was your baby,” Anzhi said, and then Kismet reached up to give him a squeeze on the shoulder.

“Maybe we can do a date night on those nights. Make new memories that are just as good.”

“I’d like that, too,” Shev said, and moved to go grab plates. They set the table and ate, and later relaxed upstairs in the living room while they practiced various idle-time hobbies for a quiet few hours.

Today had been a long day, but it hadn’t been a bad day.

[waitingformyfavoritesongs]

16 March 2023 Thursday 5:07 pmpdt

askalex.Stanford.

edu/Stanford-anesthesiaeducation-committee-meeting-minutes-may-8-2014/

heinous. I looked up Melissa cuen in 2020? She was a Mexican history major. I never saw 🪚 anesthesiologist stuff in 2020. She was a UCB grad 👩‍🎓. I’m not going to the hospital 🏥. I don’t want anyone’s help. Let incubus destroy me Bcz I try to get the truth in public. Acid anus pain. 5:12 pmpdt I found an email 📧 for her at Stanford in 2020 but I hesitated to email 📧 her. My phone (cramps period 5:13 pmpdt). Got locked 🔒 by my aunt. I had no choice but to reset & the info was not searchable when I tried again. 5:13 pmpdt I thought I saw her in a mountain 🏔 vista? Was it? Something commercial for a mountain 🏔 retreat? For addicts? 5:15 pmpdt

5:53 pmpdt I think it’s hypocritical? To say that someone is wicked evil 🦹‍♀️ b4 they prove to be & use it as an excuse to do wicked evil things to someone. 5:54 pmpdt which is what the incubus likes to do. 5:55 pmpdt & if he has the power to completely change someone against their biology 🧬 turn straight men gay then how do we know they’re being honest? 5:56 pmpdt

5:56 pmpdt if you do evil wicked things to someone, then should that prove that you are wicked then? You enjoy hurting people? Apathetic? Not empathetic? Then you aren’t a lover. You try to do what livers do infront if people but behind closed doors 🚪 you’re plotting murder. 5:58 pmpdt you’re a pretender. 5:59 pmpdt you like that the cards are in your favor but you aren’t looking authentically for a good person Bcz you don’t really know anybody especially incubus with his weird shifting personalities & power. 6 pmpdt I thought 💭 if a person is good mayb I don’t have to like them but mayb I can respect ✊ them. 6:01 pmpdt I can’t like everyone? If I liked everyone I would have difficulty making decisions of who to marry? Coexistence I thought 💭 was nice. 6:02 pmpdt being perpetually grumpy & annoyed 😑 doesn’t help me? A lot of times I had to pretend to be happy & not annoyed. When Q walked into my kitchen after I washed the floor I had to bite my tongue 👅 as chunks of dry dirt fell from the bottom of her gladiator sandals 🩴. Glad to be a terminator, Q? Is that what that means when you wear that? & when you wear dark colors & the pearly pendant (acid biting pain vag 6:05 pm pdt) that it’s a hint about whores being evil 🦹‍♀️? 6:05 pmpdt you want me to think that about myself? That’s why you photoshopped my head to look extra large? 6:06 pmpdt

8:37 pmpdt I don’t have any choice but to write ✍️ this here. No one cares to hear me out. 8:38 pmpdt on the phone ☎️ in 2001 I told “Brendan” that I wanted him to go so deep that our souls touch. That’s probably what I said word for word. 8:39 pmpdt I described the kind of love I wanted. What I desired. Anyone who is rational would know we didn’t talk enough or get to know each other enough to fall in love 😻. I liked the way he talked to me but it was bothersome that he jumped into sexting basically immediately. I think 🤔 I would have came closer to maybe 🤔 feeling that with Derek, but he was different on the phone ☎️ than what I thought 💭. 8:41 pmpdt after I stopped writing ✍️ at around 6:06? Or before that the incubus ate/dissolved most of my vag lips 👄. It’s missing.& he’s still torturing me like that I think 💭. 😖😭 throat pain. 8:44 pmpdt behati keeps saying deep love 💕 was it? I wonder 💭 where she got that from. Did he say it first & she kept repeating it? 8:45 pmpdt

8:47 pmpdt I think 🤔 talking to them both probably helped me realize how I should feel around a man 👨 I would want to marry. 8:48 pmpdt

8:48 8:49 pmpdt I will never be with a man 👨 now.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

And he did. Having Lilith killed in a Gladiator battle wasn't a choice he took lightly. He had loved her at one point and her betrayal stung him deeply.

It helped that he had someone as lovely as Adam to make the ache lesser than what it could have been. He had all of his curtains drawn, door locked with a block to help keep it shut just in case and a beautiful warrior warming his bed.

He was right, Adam looked amazing on his sheets.

Adam used his mouth on his King before he was to ride him like before. Tonight was all about his King's pleasure to make him feel better. They even switched positions so that Adam was on his hands and knees, Lucifer was behind him really giving it to him.

Adam was given a pillow to bite to cover his moans as his King fucked him so good. He loved his King so much, Adam wanted to be with him always, make him happy always.

Lilith couldn't see how wonderful he was, she only wanted what he could give her. Power, money, and status.

Adam only wanted his love and now he could have it.

This was the third time that Adam came as Lucifer finally finished, filling him to the brim before pulling out and holding Adam close. They kissed each other tenderly in the afterglow of their sex.

They didn't say the words, they didn't need to yet. Adam and Lucifer knew what they had for each other just by looking in the other's eyes.

Pure, raw, love.

Sooo Gladiator!au?

My main reason for this is so I can fantasize about Adam wearing that little dress. He's built like a rugby player. Thighs. That's all I'll say.

Emperor!Lucifer, who's happily married to Queen Lilith, who rule over the city and land of Hell.

Each week, they host a huge tournament where the strongest fight each other for the kings favor.

But for the last few weeks, there's been a new fighter. His name is unknown to the royalty, but Lucifer learned his name from his Royal Advisor, Alastor. Adam. No last name.

And he's kicking ass. He wins every time. And the emperor might have a veeeery small crush on him.

My dude, I love this so much!

Adam kicking ass and taking names. What if the reason for him doing so well was because he had his own crush on the King and wanted to keep his attention.

Homosexuality was very accepted in Roman times, Hell a lot people namely men preferred it.

Let me just---

_

Adam swung his blade down defeating his opponent in the arena, sweat dripped off his body from the harsh sun above rather than the battle he just fought. The man put up a good fight, but not good enough.

The crowd cheered for his victory, he waved as he was now allowed to leave and relax for the rest of the day. He cast a glance to his King who was watching him intently.

Good. He hoped he enjoyed it as well, it was all for his King.

Maybe it was stupid to be infatuated with someone of royalty, their King who was married to the Queen. But Adam wasn't blind and there was no law against looking.

Adam was given water and food, he sat down to regain his strength and to hydrate.

Angel: Nice work out there again big guy!

Adam: Thanks, the fucking sun was worse than that guy.

Everyone laughed, all used to Adams sense of humor now. He made a few friends fighting here.

[painting-the-universe-art]

Gladiator            -               King

had some fun with david’s sakaar looks ;3

💚REBLOGS make my day!!!💚

My Commissions are OPEN!

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

hihi slug!! what are your thoughts on the shuffle drama track now that its out? i had a lot of fun listening to it and liked most of the dynamics a lot ^^

I haven't listened to it yet, but I have some free time tonight, so I guess it's time for a Live Slug Reaction. (Under a cut for length)

You can follow along with a detailed summary here. I'll put time stamps to show where I'm at too.

(1:03) Wait, so - this is considered canon, right? And it's taking place after the second DRB? I'm guessing Freestyle Gladiator is some sort of promotional program Chuuouku is at least partially involved with, and that's all fine and dandy, but has the rest of the plot just stood still while this has happened? Like... is Ramuda not still deathly ill? Is Jakurai still supposed to be working for Chuuouku even though Honobono reneged on Jakurai's terms? Are the Buster Bros still at odds with Rei? What's going on with the whole Juuto's job thing? I guess this is probably supposed to be a funny bit so the plot doesn't apply, but I have a few questions about the logistics of it.

(1:07) I already laughed about this when the preview came out, but it's STILL hilarious to me that the first thing Ramuda ever says to Sasara that's not related to the brainwashing is, "lol your jokes suck ass"

(2:07) Here come the baddies of the day. I can feel it.

(2:24) Wait, is this Juushi? Huh, I don't think I've heard his speaking voice much before. I almost didn't recognize him except for his speech style.

(2:27) Me: Is this Juushi? Ichirou literally a second later: Quit crying, Aimono

(2:33) LMAO Juushi says Ichirou sounds like Kuukou... that's cute.

(2:38) Ichirou's laugh is making me having affectionate feelings. Disgusting. At any rate, it's good to hear him sound happy about Kuukou and not just sad anymore! Hell yeah! I missed the IchiKuu interactions in a major way. Hope we get more of them in present day canon.

(2:52) In my predictions for this track, I said something to the effect of this being the good boy team who go around doing community service. Well, apparently they're helping Ichirou work a takoyaki stand. So there's a bit more capitalism than I expected, but yeah, this is really a good boy team thing to do.

(3:22) I love how Juushi's voice actor makes those very emotional wails. He's really talented. Also, what a working in retail/restaurant/customer service mood.

(3:59) Juushi's VA going OFF (also another customer service mood)

(4:14) lol did Roshou just... burn the takoyaki because he likes it better that way? Okay, I do have to say, maybe this is what Ichirou gets for assuming Roshou knew how to cook takoyaki just because he's Osakan. Regional profiling much, Ichirou?

(4:40) I feel like I'm listening to a Dice mukbang. I wonder how these kinds of scenes are recorded. Do the voice actors really just go "HAMP OMP HARF SHLARF" into the mic and call it a day?

(5:03) Juushi: Black takoyaki? I bet we can make a cooler name for it somehow. .... Okay, but the conventional definition of cooler or Juushi's definition of cooler?

(5:08) Yup. Definitely Juushi's definition of cooler.

(5:11) Roshou: Bla- infe- wha- huh? Me too, Roshou.

(5:22) Thank you, Kimusuba, for your enunciation, because I had no clue what Juushi said until you repeated it. Roshou is probably thanking you too.

(6:01) It's hella cute to me that Roshou makes an effort to play along with Juushi, even though he clearly thinks this is some BS. He probably does the same for his students.

(6:18) Oh are you fucking kidding me - Doppo got mugged AGAIN? This poor man. Why do these things keep happening to him?

(6:23) Rei: Well... I mean, he just looks like a sucker. LMFAO

(6:44) Took me a minute to understand what Samatoki's saying. I don't think his voice agrees with me all that well. I do have to say, this is very funny (re: "You're a part of my crew now, and anyone who fucks w/ you fucks w/ me") not in the sense of Samatoki's protective streak - love that - but in the sense of Samatoki being so willing to throw hands. Can we set him on Doppo's employers while we're at it?

(6:50) Come to think of it, I think Doppo is genuinely the only person who ever calls Samatoki "Aohitsugi-san" despite all of Samatoki's demands for respect.

(7:19) Rei sending Doppo out to buy him a tea is such a dad thing. This feels like an episode of Old Enough, the show about sending toddlers to run their first errand.

(7:55) AGAIN?

(8:19) The way Rei goes, "I'm just an ordinary, sake-loving middle-aged man" is so fucking funny. He's not even trying to sound believable.

(9:01) Fuck 'im up, Doppo! FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!

(9:53) The way Samatoki offers to pay for everything is heart-warming. The older brother instinct. The issue is that certain people (Sasara and later Ramuda) have been known to take advantage of this, and judging by how excited Rei sounds, Rei's about to join them on the list.

(10:05) Oh fuck me, I wasn't ready for Riou's voice to come immediately after Ramuda's high-pitched humming. I also momentarily parsed his line of "A flea market..." as "The free market..." and was instantaneously transported into a world where Riou is an off-the-grid, libertarian crypto bro.

(10:15) RIOU-CCHI

(10:19) Oh, he's the grandma who goes with the grandkids to the flea market to sell her homemade wares... Here's a 1000 yen bill, Ramuda-kun and Hifumi-kun, now go buy yourselves candy and be good boys while Riou-baachan sells his home cooking. Has anyone ever given Riou knitting needles before? I think Riou would love knitting needles. This man is one rocking chair away from being 85 years old, and I love him for it.

(10:38) Horribly, horribly pleased that Ramuda and Hifumi are impressed and interested as opposed to my worst fears of "Eww, you're a gross, sweaty dude who lives in the woods!" My crops are watered. My will to live is restored.

(11:16) He just has a bag of perfectly-sized clothes with him (??)

(11:24) A suit made of manga panels................ okay, but is it good manga? Or did Ramuda give him the """""classy""""" version of an ahegao sweater? Hey, would it be fucked up or what if it was the Hypmic manga on the suit? Hifumi comes back to Matenrou being like, "Damn, Jakurai! What'd you keep making that face at Ramuda for?" and Jakurai goes ???

(11:28) PINK CAMO

(11:30) Ramuda: That's what fashion's all about! IS IT?!!! Man, I don't know SHIT about fashion.

(11:41) Riou ended up saying the same thing I just did (albeit more politely) so this is a sign that I, too, could be tricked into wearing something garish if Ramuda presented it to me. Also, what was that changing sound? Did they just have a magical girl transformation? Sailor Riou! In the name of survival, I'll punish you!

(12:00) I love that Riou doesn't like it (well, he's complaining about it, rather), but he still wears it anyway. He's known Ramuda for two minutes and is already like, "I must treat him with ultimate respect and care." This is why Riou is the best. Perfect. Everything I could have ever wanted is in this drama track.

(12:39) Riou.................................................... (That sales pitch would work on me, tbh.)

(13:52) Riou.................................... It's no surprise that Ramuda dislikes this, come to think of it, given that he hates smelly nattou. (I call this good taste. I detest nattou haha.)

(13:58) Hifumi sounds like a chain smoker here. His voice actor is killing it.

(14:25) Hitoya "I detest bullying" Amaguni bullying a middle schooler. Classic. I also enjoy Saburou being like, "Well, if SOME people here would actually TALK to one another, we wouldn't have to do this!" Welcome to Saburou Yamada's relationship counseling, where the 14-year-old is more emotionally mature than the 35-year-olds. Maybe he inherited this skill from Rei.

(15:01) LMFAO SABUROU STRAIGHT SAVAGE "You seem pretty stuffy, so I bet you never had any friends in middle school."

(15:18) It's a bit past when he said it, but I'm still thinking about Jakurai going "I had many friends." Considering how differently he viewed his relationship with Hitoya as compared to how Hitoya viewed it, I wonder if those other people he's talking about likewise saw him as a friend... Jakurai... :(

(15:56) Saburou: Aren't you an adult?! (implying that he should act like one) Good for this kid, he is DRAGGING them. I knew he'd somehow be the winner of this unlikely match-up.

(16:22) LMAOO. Okay, this is funny as hell, but theory time. Hitoya's older brother (Sora)'s name means "heaven", as does the Amaguni last name. Hitoya's name, meanwhile, means "prison" on its own but is also used in the word "hell" so much that for me, at least, the first thought upon seeing it is hell. I've always wondered if he might have resented that naming scheme, and I wonder if choosing the name Heaven here is intentional. Perhaps he's copying Sora? Or perhaps he's naming himself Heaven Heaven, the Hypmic version of Moon Moon.

(16:43) LMAO of course Saburou likes it. Know your audience, Hitoya.

(17:13) The way Saburou swears is so funny to me. He sounds like he's trying to act more adult than he is around these older guys he's probably trying to impress, at least a little.

(17:44) Yup, he's definitely trying to impress them. What do adults like? Alcohol! Whisky bonbons it is! Actually, out of curiosity - is bonbon a false cognate? I have a feeling it might be... Yeah, it looks like the Japanese definition might be a bit broader than the English definition. (I may also not know exactly what a bon bon might be. That's one of the things about translation - you realize how ignorant you actually are constantly when you figure out you can't precisely define or explain certain everyday objects maybe out of your sphere of expertise.)

(17:50) Too late, Hitoya.

(18:11) LMAO the way it cut out so quickly

(18:28) Sasara: And today's interesting guest - Yeah, Gentarou's interesting all right.

(18:41) This Jirou impression is really good. I didn't realize it was Gentarou's VA for a moment.

(19:02) Wait, it just hit me - so does Gentarou dead-ass act like this in public? Like when he goes to talk about his books to the press, is he his usual unhinged self, or does he at least pretend to have a sense of decorum? His editors must be scared to let him go anywhere. Working as his PR agent could earn you millions.

(19:54) I just realized what Sasara reminds me of. A Youtuber. He acts like a Youtuber. He's literally trying to film a reaction video. Teens (and Best-Selling Authors) React to Croquette Sandwiches!

(20:04) While the boys continue their "HAMP AMP MURMP" fest, I'll take the time to mention something I forgot earlier. I wish we'd gotten Guy Fieri to eat Roshou's takoyaki. "But Guy Fieri isn't in Hypmic" Well, not with that kind of attitude.

(21:02) Oh, he's his own PR agent. Everything makes sense now. He probably runs his Twitter like Kojima (ft. Dice as Mads Mikkelsen).

(21:18) Rip Sasara's Yotube vid

(22:19) Juuto: Is this ramen? It's pure black. Wait, did Roshou make it?

(22:24) hey does anyone here know Japanese. because I guess you could say now Kuukou's a 食うkou. *booed offstage*

(22:28) The way Dice eats is............. effervescent.............

(23:02) Dice sounds so offended. "You don't mess with food, man!"

(23:44) It's a good thing Juuto's a competitive bitch, or else this would never have happened.

(23:49) YES, SHAKKU IS HERE!! Ft. 5 second long "KUUUKOUUUUUUUUUUU!!!"

(24:07) KUUKOU LOCKED HIM IN THE SHED??!!

(24:18) God, I aspire to be like Kuukou. If only we could all do this to our parents.

(24:37) Somehow, I don't think telling Dice and Juuto that Shakku is more of a fierce beast than a human being is going to help convince them to go toe-to-toe with him.

(24:48) Honestly, I understand how Kuukou turned out this way when considering Shakku.

(25:09) I have to say, I'm not super fond of the Kuukou/Dice/Juuto line-up if only because Kuukou's kind of overpowering the other two. It's not that I think Kuukou should be less extra. I love every part of the Kuukouness here. It's more that I wish we'd gotten more of Dice and Juuto's particular nonsenses as opposed to having them be the sensible-seeming tsukkomis. FP is def. a lot more balanced, because one character is always playing straight man to the other two bozos, but who the bozos are is constantly rotating. Likewise, MTC is more balanced because every single one of them is, at all times, thinking, "Let me, the mature and reasonable adult, humor these children I'm with." But here there's not enough trade-off. I guess BAT works well because Juushi and Hitoya are so bombastic on their own that they basically shove Kuukou out of the way for screen-time, but here he's kind of hogging it. And that's a bit of a shame.

(25:40) Love how excited Juushi is for taking a selfie.

(25:52) LMAO I wonder what social media Juushi has. He seems like a Pinterest mood boards kind of dude. I bet the word aesthetic is a part of his voca- well, I guess it is now, because I distinctly remember writing him with that word, for whatever that's worth.

(26:12) Ichirou: Are you ready to fight your own teammates? Roshou, remembering the time Sasara ate his pudding: Of COURSE.

(26:36) For a very weird moment, I thought Doppo was the one smoking (I think it's Samatoki and Rei) and so I thought the other two had indoctrinated him. Doppo comes back to Matenrou reeking of nicotine, and Hifumi won't let him into the house. Jakurai immediately tries to force him to join a quitting smoking program at his clinic.

(27:15) I love how Rei and Samatoki say p. much the same thing as Jakurai does before every battle, but their deliveries could not be more different.

(27:17) Doppo: I'll despair with CONFIDENCE. <- felt that

(27:36) *whacking Ramuda with a rolled up newspaper* No talking with your mouth full.

(28:12) I appreciate how seriously Riou takes this. That's one of the biggest things I like about Riou. For all of his pride in being a soldier, he understands the weight of conflict and doesn't seek it out lightly.

(28:42) *head in hands* RiOUUUUUUU IS THE BEST. He never once belittles anyone for their interests and always, always, ALWAYS considers things with weight if anyone else cares about them. He’s! Such! A! Good! Person! FUCK!

(29:00) LMAO Saburou sounds so young...

(29:37) There goes straight savage Saburou again. God bless this kid.

(30:09) This is Hitoya speak for, “God, I’d love to have an excuse to kick Kuukou’s ass.”

(30:37) The way his suit keeps flapping around him as he exercises is really something else.

(30:52) I wonder if Sasara used to do this back when he worked with Roshou too. Group exercises, maybe? Except Roshou was kind of jacked back then (or he looked like it, at any rate), so maybe the exercises were simply Roshou benchpressing Sasara.

(31:00) Gentarou must be bored. He’s finding a way to entertain himself.

(31:23) I think Gentarou’s spent so long around Fling Posse that he’s forgotten how to behave in polite society, or rather that most people won’t humor him by falling for his tricks. (Do I think Dice truly believes Gentarou most of the time? Not really. Does it amuse Gentarou? Yeah, so that’s why Dice does it. He does the same thing for Ramuda, and Ramuda likewise plays up falling for Gentarou’s tricks, so I think it’s safe to assume that Dice isn’t as much of a dweeb around Gen as he pretends to be.) Dice and Ramuda aren’t noticing this as much on their end because Dice isn’t really in a good environment for letting out some of his particular goofiness, and Ramuda accidentally ended up with another two enablers. Hahaha. Gentarou might be homesick for them.

(31:40) Ah.... only Dice could eat with such.... passion.......

(31:45) I have to say, it’s a lot easier to understand Dice with food in his mouth than Ramuda. Kudos to Nozuyama. (?)

I’m actually going to stop here (at the part where the alarm goes off) because I’ve been doing this for several hours, and I want to sleep, but I hope that this has been entertaining for anyone brave enough to read the whole thing. 

Final takeaway: Hell yeah, Riou time.

[such-a-bitchh]

Hello! I hope you’re having a good day!

May I request the M6 reacting to you having the same ethnicity/background as them? Such as being from Paraka for Nadia?

Hi! Thank you both for this request! I actually got two similar request, so I'll do this as one, hope you don't mind! And i hope you'll enjoy!

M6 reacting to MC having the same etnicity/background~

(I'm so sorry that Asra's so short i didn't really have any good ideas for him)

It all started Asra was teling you story once about the docks

You actually realised then, that you had a similiar one

You told them

His face was priceless

Their feelings then were a mix of happiness and worry

He was happy that you share some memories with him

And worrier that something like this happened to you too

Then you two went to the docks

You started showing him some of the things that happened to you

You two were being happy, then sad

It was a mix of emotions

But you were there for eachother

Now that Asra knew you understand him more, they understood you

(It was stuggle for me to choose between being from Prakra, or being a royalty, but in the end, you're the 2nd one)

You were sitting tigether in her room when a servant went up to you and called you a royal title

You started panicking

No one called you that since you run away from your previous home

You were a middle child then, away from throne, and away from getting married to become a royal somewhere else

So you ran away

Hoping for normal live, but you met Nadia, and the royal life stopped mattering for you

But now, it all came back

You started stuttering before Nadia told you

"Something wrong love? We're married, that's why they call you a royal title"

Oh

OH

You totally forgot about that, but Nadia's face makes it obvoius that you'll have SOME explaining to do

After you told her everything she totally understood

Really, she was so sweet

After that incident you two shared your funny palace stories

You spend HOURS talking about your hometowns

It was soothing to finally let it all out

If you choose to reveal it to everyone, she would support you and be soo excited to meet your parents

If no, she would also support you no matter what

(I'm so sorry, but this is going to be so sad, i choose for you that you also were involved in a shipwreck, like him and Portia when they were younger, huuge angst warrning hehe)

It all started when you were having a horrible nightmare that one night

It was about your past

The memories from the shipwreck you were part of were coming back

You felt it all again

The burning in your chest when you realised no one was there with you

The loneliness

The pain, the ache, when it all felt like dying

How your throat was sore from yelling for someone who was long gone

The cold air, thunders, cold water all around you

Misery

When Julian managed to wake you up it was all gone from before your eyes

But in your heart, it was still present

You must've been yelling and shaking so hard

Julian's face was showing it all, he was also scared

But for you

You knew he had something like that too

Then, you just hugged him and cried, words spilling out of you like from broken sink

It was a reloeve to finally tell someone that

Ever since then Julian was way more careful when you two were at the dock

Memories of your cries coming back to him everytime he looked at a ship

Maybe you felt better, but did he?

(For Muriel you were also a gladiator in the past, gender still irrelevant in this, so it's going to be hella angsty so have fucking fun)

It was odd for Muriel to walk freely on the streets od Vesuvia

What was even more odd was when he took you to the Colliseum

He told you that he finally wanted to be OVER it

He started saying this... stuff how he could trust you

You felt so awful

His words were so beutiful, he trusted you so much

But you? You were keeping such an important thing from him

And what's worse it was in a Colliseum

Burden from the past, and that from the present coming together to you

You started having trouble in breathing world became blurry

Inanna noticed it first

She started barking and pulling Muriel, when he looked at you he panicked

You HEARD his heart breaking

He started asking you whether it's because of him, he started saying bad stuff about himself

You loved him but it wasn't about him now, you just nedeed to talk to him, but you couldn't

So you just hugged him, you knew it'll stop him

It did.

Then the hard part came, you needed to tell him EVERYTHING

You felt so guilty

He held you when you were telling him everything, he listened

You told him why you were the one understanding, you delt it all too, seen it all too

The blood on your hands was unwashable too

You expected him to be engry, feel betrayed, break up with you, and just leave you alone like everyone did

But he didn't, he stayed, and he pulled you even closer

He realised he wasn't the only one who needed to be understood

And he was willing to give you all the love and time you needed

Just the way you gave it to him

(I just couldn't make Portia angsty, she's love of my life, my heart would break, so you're just from Nevivon 😫🤚)

It was such a beautifull day

Soft wind blowing, sun shining, birds singing it was all so perfect

You were walking with Portia on the marketplace when you smelled something

It was the scent of your youth, the one from Nevivon

All of your happy days came back to you

Your family, your house, friends

The taste of Oh so familiar food

Rays of the sun which hit JUST right only in your hometown

You felt zo good at that moment

You ran to the place where they were selling all kinds of things from Nevivon

From perfume, bath bombs, souvenirs, clothes, snacks to postcards, it all felt like home to you

And you knew that it'll all feel the same to Portia

You ran back to her, and you told her everything

She was suprised that you were raised in Nevivon too, but also so happy

You two shared the feelings of growing there

She was sparkling from joy

And ever since you two were having "Nevivon Sundays" when you two were making snack from Nevivon, spraying perfume from there, taking bath in their salt, everything

You promised eachother that one day you'll both go back there

It was so nostalgic, and doing everything with Portia, made it all hundred times better

(Well, I had some troubles with choosing something for Lucio, i was picking between MC being from the same clan, wining the throne the same way as him or being close to the previous Count-Spada, so I did the last one. I'll gladly take request for the other ones tho)

Everytime you looked at Lucio the memories from the battle when he "made a name for himself"

You were there

You've seen it

You were Count's magician at that time too

You were pretty close to Count Spada ar that time

You're still guilty about the fact that you weren't the one saving him, but Lucio

If it would be you, you propably would be ruling Vesuvia

And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't loose his arm

But would he still be YOUR Lucio?

You didn't want to be a royal anyways... oh wait

Because you were the court magician Lucio knew you ever since then

At first you weren't very good friends

More of a competitors

But after he became the Count he.. didn't kick you out

It was a suprise for you

Maybe he wasn't so bad at all

Sometimes you joke about Count Spada

Lucio even went as far as dressing as him, that one day

It was hillarious

But you could've swore that he didn' fall from his throne by himself and his clumsiness

You heard Spada's laughing then