#Someone help roman pls | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aezuria · 7 months ago

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*ੈ✎ two lovers entwined, pass me by

"and heaven knows i'm miserable now" —the smiths

content: leo valdez x roman! reader

╰┈▸ back cover: what if leo gets a little too tired of being the seventh wheel, wait- ninth wheel? (and meets a girl who is a d1 hater)

╰┈▸ warnings: leo and yn dont hate hate couples its a joke okay (unless its not a joke anymore pls give them love-) cursing, maybe ooc reyna? NOT canon compliant, a bit of angst but overall its silly

librarian's annotations: this is now my fav work if u guys dont like it then dont tell me pls 😣

leo was tired. sick and tired of everyone's public displays of affection! can they at least have the decency to romance each other in the privacy of their own rooms!? he did not build ten of them for no reason! there was absolutely no way they needed to suck face at the dining table. like, right in front of his food!?

okay, he was being a bit dramatic. the most everyone was willing to do in public was hold hands. and maybe share a kiss. but that was a kiss too much! and wasn't reyna supposed to off doing (cool) praetor shit!? ever since her and jason made up, leo has not been able to catch a break! can they stop eyefucking each other already!? (they are simply staring into one another's eyes)

"guys." leo swept his gaze over the dining table. he was seated at the end, giving him an unwarranted view of everyone paired up. apparently, love is also deaf, since no one turned their head to him.

"guys!" leo raised his voice. would he be heard over the sound of their unspoken conversations? heads finally spun to look at him, as if they just remembered he was there.

"can you guys like, eat? or do this-" he gestured widely. "elsewhere? and by elsewhere i mean not in front of me."

they all managed to give him the exact same look that was a mix of embarrassment at being called out, and something that said "poor leo, he's so single!" oh come on! jason made it even worse by putting a—what was supposed to be—comforting hand on his arm. "it's okay, leo. i'm sure you'll find someone one day."

this was not funny at all. and leo would know; he's the funniest guy ever! he snatched his arm away with an utterly aghast expression. "ew! get your pity off of me!" he shuddered, playing up the theatrics and wiped his forearm over jason, giving him his couple-cooties back.

the blond reeled back, laughing at his best friend's antics. "what was that for!?"

"don't act like you don't know!" he sneered accusingly.

nights were always the worst for leo. they were quiet, and not the calm, peaceful quiet when he would stay out and watch the sun set, the time before his happiness came to an end. it was an empty quiet, devoid of the laughter he caused, his thoughts become louder to fill up the silence.

(it was night when his mother died, when he had burned down the warehouse. when he had killed her. it was night when he awoke to the front door slamming, the sounds of drunken yells and glass splintering were backing instruments in an interlude of impending misery as he waits for the sun to shine once again. it was night when he ran away, with nothing more than his heavy heart and some left over change.)

leo's thoughts ran rampant with the feelings he kept in a glass box. always there, always seen, very fragile yet rarely opened. sometimes he would shake it a little too hard, and it would come crashing down like a bottle of alcohol, spilling insecurities instead of wine.

tonight was one of those times.

he doesn't know what brought it on. well, he lied; it was the sight of everyone at dinner, looking happy and complete without him. but he was used to it. it shouldn't have bothered him this much. but the more he let it stew, the more it hurt. leo loved his friends, sure, but he couldn't help but have a little bit of resentment at how easy it was for them to make up, make out. hell, even piper got a girlfriend, a mortal one at that! between traveling and fighting monsters, he didn't even know that was possible. what about him was so unlovable?

as he tossed and turned to shake off the voices in his head, he knew that this would be another sleepless night.

today was going to be a good day; leo could feel it in his gut. the skies were clear, there were no monsters coming to wake them up, and the engine was running smoothly. he had time to work on his little projects all day today! he hummed a tune as he walked to the engine room, or his work room for today, and spun a wrench in his hand. maybe he had a little skip to his saunter, a pep in his step. something about today was just so-

his gut lied to him. (maybe he was hungry?) the wrench clattered to the ground as he came to an abrupt stop. "oh. my. gods." leo paused between every word to further emphasize his disdain.

the sight was scandalous, completely and irrevocably scandalous. like, i-need-to-wash-my-brain-out scandalous. and leo was so not being dramatic this time.

percy and annabeth flinched away from each other in a half-asleep fumble, trying to act as if they had not just been caressing each other's bodies mere moments ago. (okay, maybe he was being dramatic again) this wasn't even a romantic place to do that! and leo would know, he's such a romantic guy. what was the purpose of his hard work of making bedrooms if they were just going to sneak off and desecrate his beloved engine room!?

"frank catching you two once wasn't enough?" leo huffed and bent down to pick up his dropped tool. "now i have to see the two of you fraternizing in my domain!?"

"that's not even the proper word-" annabeth had tried to hold back, but the urge to correct him was too much.

"i don't care! shoo!"

leo was so done. his perfect day had been ruined first thing in the morning! now it was late, he was tired, and he was finally heading back to his room to get some much needed rest after holing himself up all day working on random knick-knacks. a soft noise caught his attention. it was dim, the lights low since him and annabeth wanted to save electricity. he felt the familiar dread in his stomach. there was absolutely no way this could be happening.

"we shouldn't do this here..." wait, was that reyna?

"i know.. but i'm gonna miss you when you leave." no. no. NO. the direction the two very very familiar voices were coming from was right in front of the hallway to his bedroom. "please?"

leo was torn. he didn't want to walk in on them, but he couldn't spend another night in the engine room! he wanted his comfy bed right now!

he slapped a hand over his eyes and stepped heavily on the wooden floorboards, giving them a much needed warning. he heard the sound of fabric and shuffling, a satisfied smirk gracing his face.

"are you guys decent?" leo asked, still squeezing his eyes shut under his hand.

jason huffed, no doubt red in the face. "it's not like we weren't in the first place."

leo dared to open his eyes, finding that not only was his face red, but there were bruises starting to dapple his neck. ew. he did not want to think about how that came to be. "uh huh. well go and canoodle somewhere not in front of my room, please and thank you."

"canoodle?"

"reyna i told you, i don't wanna go!" you grumbled akin to a toddler, despite your status as the centurion of the first cohort. you took off your armor, dropping it to the ground haphazardly. "i don't need to see you and mister perfect canoodling in front of me!"

the praetor snorted and shook her head. "'canoodling?' you're the second person i've heard use that word this week." she paused, a thoughtful expression passing over her face. "you guys would get along well, i think. anyways, i'm not asking as a friend, i'm ordering you as praetor."

oh that was so unbelievably low! "what!? reynaa!" you stretched out the end of her name in an embarrassingly childish whine. good thing it was just the two of you here, otherwise no one would let you live it down. "i thought they were supposed to be going soon anyway!?"

"you heard me. and no, they're staying for a couple more nights. something about the engine being broken again?" she shrugged, an amused glimmer breaking through her usually serious front. "besides, we have a lot to discuss about the whole gaea thing, and who better to bring than you? you're my right hand woman."

you tried to hide a smile at her words, but sweet-talk always won you over. "ugh, fine. i guess i'll go."

something was up. you knew that from the moment she asked you to "wear something other than purple for once." who even owned anything but purple!? heck, you didn't even know reyna had different clothes outside of uniform! was that even allowed? you'd only ever seen her wear the same shirt as you, and a toga if the event accounted for it.

you sifted through your wardrobe, digging through masses of violet and coming up blank. oh well, guess its uniform time again. not that you minded all that much.

"you are changing." reyna shook her head, giving you a disappointed look only a mother could offer. this wasn't even a big deal! what was so wrong with your shirt? you rather liked purple!

"but why!? what better way to represent rome than this?" you gestured to your clothing. "aren't we talking business? also this is like the only shirt i have."

"because-"

"you just wanna look all pretty for your boyfriend." you cut her off, faking a gag. "doesn't mean i have to look pretty."

her shoulders tensed and you drew back, already anticipating her near-fatal blow.

"reyna? you know i was just kidding- OW!"

"-wait this is so my color actually." you checked yourself in her mirror. who knew reyna had fashion sense? although not much was required for a simple shirt and jeans.

she nodded and got to her feet. "suits you well. consider it my apology."

"huh? apology for what? for hitting me? aww you're so-"

"no. for what's about to happen to you." a solemn expression took over her face. she was well aware of your exaggerated hatred for couples. maybe you were just a bitter single, but she wasn't about to tell you that. she hoped you would soon be taken (not literally) and stop harassing her for her romantic escapades.

that was ominous. should you be scared for your life? "what the hell does that even mean?"

oh. now you knew exactly what it meant. as the two of you boarded the argo ii, she was immediately swept into a bone-crushing hug by jason, as if he couldn't bear to let her go ever again. you almost threw up at the sight. how could your beloved best friend be reduced to a lovesick schoolgirl at the touch of a man!? a man that had forgotten her! (and remembered, and apologized, and confessed his love- okay, you were starting to see her side quite clearly)

you turned your head away entirely, not wanting to see all that. but everywhere you looked, a new couple seemed to pop up. it was like your worst nightmare come to life. percy and annabeth? piper and some girl? frank and hazel? holding hands? since when were they a thing!? sweet hazel and shy frank? they were—admittedly—adorable, but still!

your only respite was leo looking just as exasperated as you. he must have it way worse; he had to live here with all of them. you shuddered. you were glad you weren't in his place right now.

you stood awkwardly to the side as they reunited. do they do this all the time? and everyone's just cool with it? maybe they can relate, with their taken-ness and all. ugh.

leo peeked at you curiously from the corner of his eye. your expression was as clear as day, face scrunched up in disdain as he traced your gaze to the practically infinite amount of couples onboard. he nodded internally, knowing exactly how you were feeling. but hey, he couldn't just let a pretty girl like you stay unhappy on his ship, not if he could help it!

"hey there," leo said smoothly, or as smooth as he could be after he had almost tripped on the crack between the floorboards. "i'm leo."

finally! someone had the decency to entertain you. "i know you! you're the guy that made octavian throw a hissy fit for firing at new rome!" shit, was that a weird thing to say for a first time interaction? too late now.

the brunette cringed at the mention of his possession. "uh, that's not what most people know me by, but yeah..?"

"oh? and what do most people know you by?" consider yourself intrigued.

leo perked up at your question, having been given an amazing opportunity to charm you. "well obviously it's my rugged good looks, and ingenious inventions, and-"

"we're starting dinner now!" jason called out from the dining table, before recieving an elbow to the gut from reyna and a harsh whisper from piper.

you were lost in your thoughts, zoning out as everyone spoke around you. leo's actually kinda... a tiny part of you popped the idea into your head. he was kinda, indeed. gods, i hate couples. a much larger portion of your mind seemed to yell. do you, or do you just hate being single? you asked yourself. huh. well it's probably-

a cough to your left caught your attention. it was leo. when his brown eyes met yours, you couldn't see a trace of that same boy who was described a traitor and a freak for firing at new rome. maybe something really did possess him.

"wanna know how i built this ship?" he asked excitedly. it was clear that the argo ii was his pride and joy.

"yeah!" you grinned, his cheerfulness rubbing off on you. who cares if he fired on new rome anymore? that was so last tuesday.

"so first, i had this cool metal dragon..."

unbeknownst to you, annabeth whispered across the table to reyna. "i think it's working?"

so, the dinner wasn't anything about business. you did learn a ton from leo though! that was business enough wasn't it? still, you couldn't help the pang of guilt that came with not getting anything work-related done. it was practically in your genes as a roman.

"y/n! you should stay the night!" hazel encouraged from the sofa across you. she was met with choruses of yeahs! and you shoulds! by the other girls, including reyna.

"oh!" you laughed awkwardly, trying to think of a way to politely turn them down. as much as you would love to stay and get to know them, you had a job to do. even if that job was getting all the legionnaires in your cohort to bed by curfew. (like seriously, the amount of times you've had to reel in couples you caught sneaking out was crazy. maybe that's where your hatred came from.) "i'd love to, but i have... centurion duties and all that."

"but reyna has praetor duties and she's staying," annabeth argued. her gray eyes shone with an intensity you only saw on the battlefield. what was going on?

that was new information to you. "you're staying?" you questioned your friend, who looked away with a hint of embarrassment.

"jason's leaving soon," she coughed. after being apart for so long, you could hardly blame her for wanting a little more time with him. "but that's besides the point. you should stay."

you crossed your arms, trying to come up with another excuse. "uh, i don't have clothes to change into?" it was a weak attempt, but you hoped it would work.

"i can lend you some," hazel piped up from the side, obviously eager to make you stay.

aw. she was always so nice. but you had a feeling there was an underlying motive you just couldn't figure out.

you tried again. "i don't think there's a spare room for me to sleep in."

"there's an empty one by leo," piper pointed out.

well, that was it. they refuted all your claims and left you no choice but to stay. you heaved a sigh and relented. "fine."

you weren't sure how it happened, but you ended up with leo again. so much for girls night. but you couldn't complain, leo was good company. he never let the silence stew between you guys for too long, always switching between one topic to the next, until somehow, you were both talking shit about your pathetic love lives and the insufferable ones of those around you.

"you wouldn't believe how many times i've caught these people! i swear, they can never keep it in their pants for more than two seconds! it's like, trauma at this point!" you rolled your eyes, absolutely abhorring the new legionnaires in your cohort.

leo laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. he looked over his shoulder, before leaning in as if telling you a secret. "like two days ago, i caught jason and reyna making out! he had hickies all over his neck!"

you gasped at the scandalous behavior of the two most serious people you knew. "what!? no way..."

the curly-haired boy nodded vehemently. "yes way! it was so gross."

eventually, it was time for the both of you to say your goodnights. leo led you to your room, giving you a cheeky wink before he retreated into his own. you shut the door, and threw yourself into bed.

maybe it was the unfamiliar environment, maybe it was the fact that you were way up in the air, or maybe it was leo running circles around your mind. whatever the reason was, you couldn't sleep. or maybe you chose not to, just to have an excuse to see the stars. the time when they were out was the only time you'd allow yourself a break.

you crept out of the room, careful not to make noise as you made your way out onto the deck. the air was crisp, a gentle bite against your skin. it seemed that the god of the sky was on your side tonight, for the clouds were nowhere to be seen, only the full moon of artemis and the familiar stars shone. you made yourself comfy on the floor, leaning back against the railing as you took a deep breath.

it would be another night of no sleep for leo, that much he could tell. he groaned into his pillow. he couldn't tell if it was the new crush already forming on you, or his angst from a few days before. regardless, his nervous energy made him get up and pace the room, fidgeting with a screw he found on the floor. with footsteps light, he traveled the small area, before something told him to get some fresh air. he obliged. it was better than being in his stuffy room.

as he went up the stairs to the upper level, he caught sight of a figure in the distance. leo's curiosity spiked. he walked closer, the image of you coming into view. your eyes locked on his, a soft smile gracing your face at seeing him. "hey."

"hey." leo dipped his head in greeting, and sat down beside you. "mind if i sit here?"

you shook your head and returned your gaze to the starry night sky, a comfortable silence settling between you two, with only the tapping of leo's fingers against the floor filling the air. it was different, being alone with him. he seemed different. he was quieter, more mellow.

"i hate nights." leo blurted out, breaking the peace you two had shared.

"really?" you asked softly. he braced himself with the condescending remark that was sure to come after, but it never came. instead he received a genuine interest from you. "why's that?"

the boy felt his heart beat a little faster. was he really going to tell you, a girl he barely knew, his whole life story? perhaps it was the late hour that made him want to spill everything out. or the feeling that stirred whenever he looked at you, like magnets attracting. and so he did.

and you listened without any interruption, never followed up with that remark he was waiting for, never gave him the pity he hated. instead, you followed up with your own story.

"i love nights. for me, it's the only time i really feel free. when everyone else is asleep, and it's just you and the stars. away from all the rules." you looked up. they seemed so close from here, way up in the floating ship. they twinkled like glitter, flashing heys and hellos and nice to see you agains. it was beautiful.

leo admired you the way you did the stars. they reflected off your eyes and made your irises shine, the same way fire casted a diffused glow on everything around it. maybe nights weren't so bad after all, if every one of them would be spent with you.

and when you leaned against him to rest your head on his shoulder, whispering secrets into his ear? oh, caligula would have blushed. (leo knows he sure did)

"operation get leo a girlfriend, complete!"

"i thought we were calling it operation get y/n a boyfriend?"

"whatever. operation leoy/n is a success!"

"...you know we can hear you guys, right?"

#*ੈ✎ stories #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo hoo toa

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anartistinahat · 7 months ago

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When you think about it

Logan would be a crow not an owl if we are going to give logan am animal/bird

Owls are not any smater than any other bird but crows are one of the smartest animals, possibly the clossests to human intellegence too

Crows are actually great problem solvers, LIKE LOGAN WITH ANXIETY AND INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS WE'VE SEEN IT TWICE TOO

Crows are great at using the tools and make their own tools, REMEMBER THE SECOND VIDEO ABOUT DEALING WITH INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS WHERE THOMAS USED A FEW TOOLS(music, coloring book and puzzles) TO HELP THOMAS

Crows are great decision makers, great communicators, have amazing reasoning skills, they can make rule guided decisions

ALL OF THESE WORK WELL WITH LOGAN AKA LOGIC AND CROWS ARE INCREDIBLY LOGICAL CREATURES TOO IM JUST SAYING

So what im saying is pleasepleasepleaseplease someone draw logan as crow or with crow motifs thatd be so cool omfg like im just saying it's be so awsome it would be so cool it would be the most incredible fanart of logan the world has ever seen (i will most likely end up making it myself BUT IM STILL THROWING IT OUT THERE)

(someone probably already talked or brought this idea up but i just had to get this off my chest alr?? Ppl probably stopped making him a owl too i think BUT STILL HUSH IT-)

So basically

Janus is a snake

Remus is a octupus

Patton is a frog

Virgil is a spider

Logan is definitly a crow

What is roman? (Idk if ppl gave roman any animal motifs yet so pls tell me any you guys think would work for roman)

#sanders sides #logan sanders #sanders sides logan #sanderssides #crows #ts logan #ts sanders sides #logan is a crow #art idea #idk if theres a tag for when we make these characters have animal motifs uh #animal motif #this is a headcanon #headcanon #sanders sides headcanon #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders

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xo-zozo · 7 months ago

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hiii love your hcs so much 😭 could you pls do some about jameson being jealous? like some guy is hitting on avery and he just so doesn’t like it or sth like that

also have the nicest day!!

yess!! @x-liv25-jamieswife did a bunch of these with me, go follow her!!

~ when someone is flirting with her, he'll be petty and grab her and start making out with her in front of them (if the person knows that they're dating)

~ if the person doesn't know that they're dating, while the person is there he'll call her all of the nicknames (my heiress, pretty girl. etc)

~ if she's uncomfortable by the person, he'll pull her to his chest by the waist or like lay his head on top of her head and stuff like that ykkk

~ there have been MANY times when jameson has almost gotten physically violent with someone who flirted with her and the only thing that stopped him was avery telling him not to

~ expanding on that, he would rant to avery about how annoying he thought rohan was (ROHAN FLIRTING WITH AVERY IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE BAHAHA)

~ when he sees someone trying to get too close to her, he'll come up behind her and hug her while she's talking to them while giving them a DEATH. STARE

~ HAND ON THE THIGH THING. THAT'S ALL I'M GONNA SAY (he's so fine help???)

~ there are plenty of people online that think avery is attractive and jameson always comments on posts about it as a joke (kinda....?)

~ he checks on her after they hit on her just to make sure that she's okay yk

~ whenever avery asks him about being jealous later, he always pretends that he wasn't even though he obviously was

#averyjameson #jennifer lynn barnes #the inheritance games #avery kylie grambs #jameson hawthorne #the hawthorne legacy #the grandest game #the brothers hawthorne

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fanderficreader · 3 months ago

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The Trend. (Prinxiety)

A/N you could see it as platonic or romantic. (Either way, idc.) btw this is my first fic, so be nice pls. 😁

Words: 1021

TW: none

Virgil was in his room watching TikTok on his phone, when he came across a video. Someone was wearing a hoodie while someone else behind them was in the back of it, using their arms as the first persons arms. When he saw this, he got an idea.

Virgil made his way to Romans room, and knocked on the door. "Come in~" he said in a sing song tone. "Hey Roman. Whatcha doing?" Roman was at his desk, working on the script for the next sander sides video for Thomas. "Just helping Thomas with his script. Why?" Roman asked. "I was wondering if you're willing to try this trend with me." As Virgil said that, he pulled out his phone, pulling up the video he watched earlier.

"Oh, Yeah sure!" Roman said excitedly. He was mostly happy because Virgil barely wants to hang out with any of the sides. If so, he mostly hangs with Patton. So this was special for Roman. "So we're gunna need one of my hoodies." Virgil went to go grab a big hoodie that he owned. When he came back Roman was already set up with everything ready to go.

"Ok, so am I gunna be your arms, or are you gunna be mine?" Roman asked. "You can be my arms." Virgil put on the hoodie and let Roman get in the back. His arms then went through the sleeves, and they were ready to record. They chose the same audio that the other people did, and just ran with that. As they were recording though, Roman kept breathing on Virgil's neck on the inside of the hoodie.

Roman stopped the recording. "Hey, why do you keep shivering?" Roman started. "You are literally wearing a hoodie." He exclaimed. Roman was still in the hoodie as he was talking. So every time he would talk, it would send another tingly vibration down Virgil's spine. "I'm not s'shivering. I don't know w'what you're talking a'about." Virgil stuttered. "Is it cause I'm breathing on you?" When he asked that, Virgil got a little pink in the face.

Roman finally stuck his head out of the hoodie- his face also downing a nice crimson and some beads of sweat -he looked at Virgil and saw the pink in his cheeks. "I know why I'm red but why is your face flushed as well?" As roman said that, his face flushed a deeper pink. Roman was confused for a second. Until he put two and two together, and realized what was happening. "So you're sure you're fine?" As he said that, he shifted his hand so it could poke Virgil in the stomach a little. This made him jump slightly.

"Nope. I'm fihine." He awkwardly laughed, to brush off some of the tension. "Are you sure?" Roman leaned in to Virgil's ear to whisper that. When he did Virgil scrunched up his neck. Roman mentally giggled at that. Oh this is gunna be fun... he thought. "Hey Virgil." "Whahat?" He giggled slightly. "You know what would be great right now?" He started. "A kiss." With that he then started giving Virgil tiny kisses on his neck, behind his ear, and on his collarbone.

To tell you Virgil was a mess is an understatement. He was giggling up a storm, just enjoying the sensations on his body -But he would never tell anyone that(except for Roman...)- "aww, you look so cute like this Virgie." That made Virgil blush even more. "Stohahap wihith the tehehsihing!" Virgil said through the giggles. "Aww, but you love the teases~" he pulled up Virgil's shirt and the hoodie a bit, and started poking Virgil's stomach. That made the giggles pick up, and the squeals start.

After about 2,3 minutes of this Roman finally spoke. "Hey, Virge. You know what I'm craving right now?" Virgil didn't answer and just kept giggling. He shook his head back and fourth already knowing the answer. "Raspberries!" With that he then started blowing tiny raspberries on Virgil's neck and collarbone. When I tell you, Virgil screamed. "EEEEEEhehe!! NoHOHOoh!!" Virgil was in stitches, but he was also the happiest he'd been this whole week.

He's been down lately, in a state of depression. So he thought by doing this with Roman would really help lift his spirits. -and oh, did it do more then that- his dopamine levels were as high as a kite right now. "Hey Virge. You know what I've noticed." He stated calmly, as if there wasn't a grown man in hysterics in front of him. "Whahhahahat!?" He tried to answer. "You haven't once said for me to stop." He said with a shit-eating grin on his face. As he said that, he slowed his 'attack' to a stop.

"w'Well, i- um..." his blush burned a dark crimson at this point, and started to spread to the tips of his ears. "Do you perhaps like it?~" Roman asked. "n'No..." that got him a poke to the side. -the hoodie had already gotten taken off of the both of 'em at this point- he squeaked. "Ok, maybe a little..." Virgil's face was flushed so brightly, if you didn't know what they were talking about, you would be concerned for him.

"Well isn't that just adorable~" Roman said. "No it's not!" When he said that, Roman lifted a brow. "Are you sure about that?~" he then fluttered his fingers on Virgil's neck, making him giggle and scrunch up. "You're just like a roly poly." Roman smiled at Virgil. Which made him look away in embarrassment. "Hey, don't look away." He started. " I'm not done tickling you yet." There they both were, on the floor, in a tickle fight. Forgetting about the once attended to tripod, that was still recording Everything.

(A/N) I hope that you enjoyed this. It's my first sander sides fic, so it's probably not the best. But, I tried to give the characters as much justice as I could. I hope it was just as teasy for you as it was for me... AnYwAaAAaYsS! I hope you enjoyed, and I'll try and write more soon.😅 BYE!

#Sander sides #sander sides tickle #Tickle fic #Lee!virgil #Ler!roman #Ticklish Virgil

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reinieseason · 1 year ago

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begging someone to pls help me construct a gen v hunger games au ......... my brain is so dead from college but i might actually write while the roman empires are empiring

marie is a tribute (maybe 16 or 15), probably for a district who hasn't one in a long time, similar to district 12 in the books/movies. honestly, i do not know who would be her mentor or a former victor for her, so i do sort of see marie having to enter the games alone.

i don't think she's a volunteer or if she'd volunteer for her sister because i think i'd like to keep the complexity of their relationship and not speaking but now that i think of it, i do see her volunteering for the sister she doesn't speak to anymore but still loves.

i'm not sure if this au will have powers, but marie would be skilled at long-range combat, she's good with a knife- fights like a street rat, fights like an orphan.

i'd imagine she gets the name bloody marie after murdering most of the tributes, always covered in blood (hence the name). or maybe in her final battle, we get the blood rain from catching fire, covering her and the other tribute in blood as they battle to death. trying to breathe and see as hot thick blood envelop them. i think that marie ends the battle slashing the throat and the tribute sputtering blood at her.

if not the blood rain, she slashes the throat and it covers her in blood. or she when she kills a tribute the blood gets everywhere. something like that.

if she doesn't have a mentor, for some reason, i can see emma as the daughter of a capitol member having to be the escort- but her quickly knowing the games for the cruelty it is and trying to campaign for marie throughout the games- oh or a stylist.

the others in this case... hm...

jordan li is a victor, they won a few games ago, they're probably a year older than her and was reaped when they were maybe 15 or 14. i feel like youngest victor would give them some clout. not sure how the shifting would work but who fucking cares its like year 2110?

i'm not sure how jordan would hate her, they might find her annoying, especially if she has no mentor to hold her back. marie's personality is spitfire and it's passion and she doesn't bother to act prim because she has no reason to think she'll live after this. she can try her hardest but she'll probably die.

luke riordan is a victor, he's definitely the finnick od'air of this au. he's the capitol's golden boy, what they don't know is he's planning the rebellion behind their back. i do see luke being a youngest winner as well, it adds to the appeal. probably has the same post-games treatment as finnick as well, he's appealing to the sponsors and won his game from the sponsors. while i'm unsure with marie, luke definitely volunteered for sam- had a whole "i volunteer! i volunteer as tribute". he made a deal with snow post-games to keep his brother out of the reaping bowl.

andre anderson is the son of a victor, his father works closely now with the capitol to make tech. andre is being looked at for a position in the capitol, maybe as gamemaker? not sure what to do with him.

cate is the adopted daughter of shetty, maybe shetty is the president or she has a high position. cate was luke's stylist maybe, i feel like cate would be a stylist.

shetty, like i mentioned before maybe is snow, if we want to contain this to solely the gen v cast. i'm struggling to come up with the president, maybe stan edgar. i wonder how newman falls into place here, she's definitely a sponsor for marie that's for sure.

anyways that's all. ihave so far lol

#gen v #gen v amazon #gen v prime #gen v spoilers #jordan li #marie moreau #marie x jordan #mariejordan #limoreau #emma meyer #cate dunlap #andre anderson #luke riordan #sam riordan #the hunger games

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thisnameisnotspokenfor · 4 months ago

Text

Yeah I'm making a backlog- so here's the next next chapter snippet

((ooc: someone pls fast forward the invention of Benedrill into the dark ages- bc I don't know how Asha is going to survive this chapter. Thanks.))

Life certainly had a funny way of roping Asha into unexpectedly unfortunate situations.

The most she’d hoped for today was to avoid trouble, yet here she was, comfortably seated on Captain Silver’s ship undergoing the interrogation of the century.

“So let me get this straight,” Silver started. “Ye said that ye were sailing-,” he gestured to the both of them.

“Yes sir,” Asha nodded, trying to ignore the star who seemed more interested in the gathering that was happening outside the captain's cabin than anything else.

“And that ye were aggressively attacked by and I quote- silent hooded figures in dark clothing who sent you down the Salcona river? Is that right?”

She nodded, watching as Silver exchanged glances with Bjorn and her grandfather.

“Dark clothes and hoods. Are the goths invading again?” Her grandfather asked, promptly breaking the silence.

“Huh I didn’t know they moved on from the Roman Empire,” Bjorn murmured. “What a day to leave the weapons at home…”

“What? Saba no! We weren’t attacked by goths!” She cried, nearly startling the star as she rose to her feet.

“Then who attacked ye?”

“I….” She paused glancing to the star for any form of assistance or help, but alas he only shrugged before turning his attention back towards the open window. His hair had seemingly grown longer. Some thing that she’d pointlessly noticed it would only do after the star had shifted.“We don’t know,” she admitted. “But what we do know is that they were dangerous Saba.”

“And from the looks of things, they probably aren’t new here either,” her grandfather nodded as he slowly eased himself down into a chair. “Wouldn’t be the first time something strange has carried over from the days of olde,” he commented before settling his gaze on the star. “But I’ll see what I can do for you. I might have a few friends who know a thing or two about this.”

She smiled, relief filling her as for once in her life, she actually felt grateful for the suspect acquaintances her grandfather had. “Thank you Saba-,”

A sharp tap on the door caught her attention as Silver leaned back and called out, “Come in.”

The door quickly opened as the familiar sight of Lady Allard entered the room.

“Good afternoon gentleman,” she politely greeted with a smile.

“Good afternoon your ladyship,” they’d answered in tow as they nodded in acknowledgment.

“My apologies for the intrusion, I hope I’m not interrupting your conversation-,” she started as Asha felt her jaw slightly drop. Delphine was apologizing? She knew the noblewoman had promised to be better, but this? This was nearly unfathomable, and it seemed as if she weren’t alone in that thought as well. The fleeting looks of surprise on the faces of the elderly men were priceless before Silver regained his composure and shook his head.

“No, no, yer fine! We were just finishing up-,” he waved to them dismissively. “if ya need em, then they’re yours!”

“Ah, that’s good! We were about to have a little gathering, in a few minutes! Why don’t you come and join us Asha I’m sure you and, and-” she quieted as she glanced to the star, looking as if she was nearly at a loss for words.

“Cepheus,” he interjected with a charming smile that could’ve easily disarmed anyone in Rosas.

“Oh, you’re Cepheus!” Lady Allard blinked in surprise as the star nodded.

‘It’s what she calls me-,” he glanced towards Asha, smiling as if he were currently enjoying a joke she had no part in.

“Ah! I see. It’s nice to have a name behind a face…you know my apprentices haven’t been able to stop talking about you since you’ve arrived. Cepheus this-, Cepheus that-, for a second I was almost afraid they’d made you up as a part of some inside joke!”

“Really?” the star grinned as he glanced to Asha who was doing everything in her power to not roll her eyes. “Do you hear that Asha? My reputation proceeds me!”

“That’s a weak brag, but okay,” she grumbled under her breath before crossing her arms. Silver and Bjorn snickered as her grandfather sighed.

“Anyways,” Lady Allard waved her hand as if dismissing her thoughts, “But since you’re real and fairly new, why don’t you join us? The gathering is to make everyone new feel welcome and it’ll be fun!”

“Fun?” The star repeated, already looking more than willing to accept her offer. “We could use some fun!”

Could they? Sure they’d almost been assassinated a few hours ago, but there was still work to be done, work that did not involve ‘fun’. She still needed to decipher those manuscripts, and if the city’s discoveries had meant anything then the work that she had waiting for her wasn’t diminishing any time soon. Maybe if she read her father’s journals she could-

“C’mon Asha!” the star called, pulling her out of her thoughts as she felt his warm hand rest on her shoulder. “Don’t you want to go?”

“Go? Go where?”

“To the gathering at the deck! It’s going to be fun!”

“Oh…You can go on without me-,” she started, trying to ignore the look of displeasure that had crossed her grandfather’s face. “ I have some work to do.”

“Work?” the star frowned as if she’d said something distasteful. “Asha you’ve been working all week-,”

“Because, unfortunately, I’ve only scratched the surface of a month’s worth of I have a month’s worth of work,” she interjected, as she began to dig through her waterproof satchel for some paper and writing utensils. She had a feeling that she’d need to take notes as she read her father’s journal. When her search for the writing utensils had come up empty, she’d focused her efforts towards the spare desk in Silver’s cabin, searching the desk’s draws as she spoke, “Which cannot be done in a week, so-,”

“I’m sure you’re very benevolent and altruistic sovereign would be nothing short of amazingly merciful if you took a break, hmm?” came the star’s voice as his hand rested on the desk’s surface a few inches away from her.

She looked up, partially surprised at his persistence “A break?” she repeated, looking from his hand to his face.

“A well deserved one from the look of things,” he spoke. “Don’t you think you deserve to have something nice after the week you’ve had Asha?”

The retort had died on her tongue as she’d taken in his words. The prouder part of her had bristled at his words and the subtle revelation of her recent series of misfortune. But try as she might she couldn’t muster up the energy within herself to snap at him, not when she’d seen the subtle note of concern within his eyes.

Did…did he actually care about her?

It was such an unfair question to ask. But she’d remember when she’d thought the king and the prince had cared. She’d even entertained the idea that she had been the prince’s friend…and yet he couldn’t bring himself to fully trust her, even when Rosas’ future had been on the line.

But she supposed she couldn’t blame them.

They’d been royalty, magical royalty who had no obligation to care for the needs and feelings of a non-magical peasant as long as they’d fulfilled their duties. No amount of frustration or disappointment she’d felt at their hands would ever be able to discredit how much good they’d achieved for the people of Rosas.

But the star had done some good, hadn’t he? He’d done it for her, and he’d probably keep doing it until he’d return, disappearing from her life forever.

She took in an uneven breath, easing the heavy feeling that had weighted itself on her chest as her fingers slowly slid off the desk.

Slowly, as she’d forced her eyes to meet his. She knew she was going to regret this, but save for her sanity, what else did she have to lose?

“I hate it when you’re rightt,” she relented, as the star’s smile grew. “Fine…I’ll go.”

“What?!” Bjorn, Silver and her grandfather said in unison as Valentino pleeated in shock. Lady Allard could only look on in confusion before shrugging.

“Do me ears deceive me?” Silver started as he scratched his ears. “Or did Asha just turn down the opportunity to overwork herself?!”

“Honestly…I don’t even know,” she confessed, before turning to the very satisfied looking star. “Come on, let’s go before I come to my senses.”

“Of course,” he called, as the pair followed Lady Allard out of the captain’s cabin and onto the deck.

“Doomed…” Asha heard her grandfather mutter beneath his breath before the cabin’s door closed. “My bloodline is doomed.”

Asha wasn’t sure what he’d meant by that, but she’d decided to focus on the more pressing matters at hand as she’d made their way to the surprisingly crowded deck. People both familiar and not were walking around, happily chattering while the band continued to play.

“Do you like the decoration?” Lady Allard smiled, as she’d gestured to the softly glowing lanterns that hung overhead. “We decided to take a page out of your book for it!”

“They’re beautiful,” she nodded, appreciating the streamers that had also decorated the deck’s interior as well. “How did you get this done in time?”

“It was a miracle really,” Lady Allard admitted. “But Alina was exceptionally helpful with telling us how to decorate!”

“Mrs. Alina?” Cepheus repeated, before looking to Asha. “Wasn’t she one of your teachers?”

“My dance teacher, yes,” Asha nodded. “I’d nearly forgotten that she wasn’t originally from Rosas.”

“She’s not?”

“No,” Asha shook her head. “I think she and her family left their country when she was a little girl and ended up here, in Rosas.” She glanced around the crowd, catching sight of her teacher in question who was happily chatting with several people.

There was something ironic about it all, she thought, while watching the crowd pass by. So many people here were celebrating the growth of the kingdom and it’s new arrivals, all whilst being blissfully unaware of the kingdom’s impending doom that lay ahead.

Turning to the source of the impending doom, she’d started, “Hey Cepheus-,”

“Hmm?”

“If you had to rate Rosas on a scale of 1 to 10 stars, with one being the worst and ten being the best, where would you place it?”

He quirked a brow. “Rate Rosas? On what exactly? Because if we’re talking about the interior design of your castle, I’m going to need a number much lower than 1-,”

“No, no, no silly, I’m talking about in terms of the people, the architecture, the culture and community, you know things like that. What would you rate it?”

“Hmm,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve only been here for a few days, but all things considered, I do enjoy your food, and your people are rather pleasant-,” he paused, waving to a small crowd of admiring girls. “So all in all, I think I’d give it seven me’s.”

“Seven you’s-,” she’d paused, scowling at the star’s wordplay. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I don’t recall making that claim-,” he started.

“No, but seriously, only seven?!”

“I think seven is a very good number-,”

“But why not ten?! Isn’t Rosas perfect? I mean look at it!” she motioned to the island in the distance. “A lot of people live here, we don’t pay taxes, which is honestly amazing. We’re progressive, How in the world isn’t that perfect?:

“I should be the one asking you that,” he started as he’d leaned against the ship’s nearby hull. “After all, I wouldn’t be here to grant a ‘wish for more’ if this place was that perfect.”

“...Fine so maybe it’s not perfect! But that doesn’t mean that it’s not great for what it is and shouldn’t be around for centuries to come, right?!”

The star halted in his tracks, briefly staring at her thoughtfully before speaking, “You know Asha, if I didn’t know any better, I’d nearly be tempted to think that you’re trying to convince me to stay here” he teased as she quickly shook her head.

“No. Absolutely not!” she’d stared at him suspiciously. “Are you trying to get on my nerves?”

“Me? Asha I would never-,”

Not this again, she facepalmed, briefly glancing past the star to Lady Allard who, to her credit, was doing her best to not ask or laugh at Asha’s misery.

“Why don’t you two take a seat over here?” Lady Allard asked, pointing to two spare crates that had served as seats. “I’ll try and get you guys some blankets.”

“Thank you,” Asha called, watching as the noblewoman’s figure disappeared into the crowd of people. She’d nearly suspected that the noblewoman was doing everything she could to get away from the strange pair. Not that she could blame her of course. It had seemed as if the star had now redirected all his energy into aggravating her.

“Are you cold?” Cepheus had asked, leaning towards her.

“Not yet,” she sighed as they’d taken their seat. “But wet clothes at this time of day does no one favors.”

He hummed, simply waving his hand as she’d felt all the dampness of her clothes disappear. “There, is that better?”

She nodded, a little shocked at how quickly he’d done it as he quietly shrugged off his cape, placing it within his lap before he’d pulled out a pair of sewing needles.

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing the cape,” he replied as he quickly threaded the needle. “Pity it couldn’t burn more so I could remake it from scratch, but I suppose I’ll have to make do with the damage that has been done.”

“You’d really remake it from scratch if it had been burnt?”

#rough snippet #chapter snippet #wish au #the kingdom of the stars #writers on tumblr #kingdom of the stars #asha #cepheus

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oatmealdaydreams · 10 months ago

Text

A Plot Hole and Reassurance

Ayy, another hurt/comfort fic because I have a problem. If ya want to be added or taken off the taglist, pls ask!

Pairing: Logince, gen

Trigger/Content Warning: insecurity, touch-starvation

Description: Logan doubts any and all creative merit he has. How could he be creative when he isn’t even Creativity? Roman doubts his own intelligence. How can he be smart when he struggles with basic logic? They both prove each other wrong in a wonderful brainstorming session, finally solving a plot hole the size of Thomas’ heart.

Extra: written for Day 5: Stroke of Genius of @loginceweek2024! And now to project on these poor men. Made myself cry, whoops. Relating to Roman as someone with a cognitive disorder.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

[read under the cut]

How can one be creative without being Creativity, and how can one be smart when traditional smart things are hard for them?

Surely, Logan can’t be creative. He isn’t Creativity. He’s Logic. He knows math and science and the stars. He can calculate in multiple variations, speak certain phrases in a multitude of languages, and spit out random facts without any prompt to do so. He’s reasonable for Reason and Critical Thinking and Common Sense. He isn’t creative, no matter what the Others say. No matter what Thomas may believe, Logan is Logic. That’s it. No matter how much he wishes he could understand Roman’s realm a bit more… it’s fine. He doesn’t have to be creative to be important, right? Even if he’s a part of a person who relies more on his creative merits for a career. And, yeah, the Chemical Engineering degree didn’t get him anywhere.

But he still needs his Logic! Everyone needs some Logic. Isn’t that how humans function best, with thoughts and reasoning? It’s fine.

Even when he really needs some creativity of his own to help with a ridiculously-sized plot hole, which no one can seem to find a solution to.

“How did this happen, again?”

“I don’t know, specs. Isn’t that your realm, hm? Aren’t you Logic?”

“Your point being?”

“My point is you’re the one with solutions! You, out of everyone else, have this unique ability to whip up solutions to problems that no one else sees. You have this- this super power that I’d be a coward not to acknowledge. You’re smart beyond belief, Logan,” Roman’s eyes sparkle when he gushes about Logan, almost forgetting himself and where he is.

Logan rolls his eyes, a light blush forming from the compliments he’s still not used to hearing. Ever since the unforchunate events of the post-wedding meeting, they’d gone to each other and apologized for their past mistakes. They’d been trying to rebuild their bond, which included Roman letting Logan know just how much he appreciated him. Logan has been a lot more kind with his criticisms, trying to be less harsh and more understanding. He’s always been astounded by Roman’s creativity and the way he ropes certain things together, and it’d been about time he told the Prince that. And every time he hears it, the royal has a hard time believing him. It’s been made clear just how much Roman’s been hurt and tossed around and used, and Logan’s done being a part of the cause. Now, even when they disagree, Logan makes sure Roman knows he’ll support him. He has his back, and Roman has his.

“It’s intelligent,” Logan playfully corrects, a small smirk tugs at his lips. “And… I don’t always have solutions, Roman. I’m not a- well, I don’t have superpowers. That’s absurd. I’m only a part of a human, much less a super one.”

Roman pauses, showing a look of concern that confuses the nerd.

“What were you gonna say?”

“What?”

“You were saying something but cut yourself off. What were you gonna say, specs?”

“It’s irrelevant-”

“Logan.”

Logan stops, snapping his mouth shut. He glances away, avoiding Roman’s worried face. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe that he has someone on his side. Too used to being ignored by everyone and silenced, it feels too unreal. Sometimes. He tenses, his shoulders scrunching themselves up. His jaw clenches, and Roman can’t stifle the noise of concern that slips out.

Roman sighs, “I don’t mean to scare you, cosmonaut. It just worried me.”

“...don’t laugh, please?”

“Of course not, cosmonaut. I won’t huff and puff any sound.”

Logan exhales a small laugh at the fairytale reference. He bites his lip for a moment, stopping once he realizes. He closes eyes, takes a breath, and looks at Roman.

“I meant to say that I’m… I’m not a robot. I don’t always have the answers to things, Roman.”

Logan’s voice is so unsure and soft and cautious that it makes Roman’s chest ache.

“I didn’t think you were, starlight. I’m sorry if I made it seem like I did. You amaze me with your intelligence, okay? That’s all I meant. You’re so intelligent and thoughtful, and you excel at all these smart things that I just don’t. I’m not really smart, and you always impress me with that brain of yours.”

Logan relaxes his shoulders and unclenches his jaw as he processes Roman’s words. It feels better, knowing he impresses Roman. Roman, who’s creativity rivals the greatest artists. I mean, objectively. Don’t tell Remus he said that.

However, it’s now Logan’s turn to look concerned as he processes the rest of his prince’s words. Roman smiles confused as he tilts his head at his detective.

“What is it, specs?”

“You aren’t smart?”

“Well, yeah, I know that.”

“No- Roman, why don’t you think you’re smart?”

“I mean, have you met me? I’m Creativity, specs, that doesn’t really account for a lot of brains. That’s your domain.”

“Roman, how can you not be smart? Who told you, you weren’t?”

“I- um, what?”

“Who told you? I apologize if I ever gave off that, uh, ‘vibe’, as you say-”

“What? No, you didn’t. It’s fine.”

“Ro.”

Roman rolls his eyes.

“...is it because of the whole ‘el príncipe es estúpido’ thing?”

“Whaaa, no. It’s not important, specs.”

“It is, because it’s you and you’re important.”

Roman stutters before shutting up, looking away and crossing his arms stubbornly.

“Roman.”

He huffs.

“My prince, please.”

Roman risks a glance at his astrophile, softening when he sees his unrestrained worry on his beautiful face. The pet name makes him blush and dissolve his stubbornness a bit. That goddamn voice when he says it. For f*ck’s sake, how can one person be so good at doing that- that? That thing he does when he’s worried and gentle and soft. Goddamnit.

Roman sighs, “...maybe.”

“My prince, I am sorry I hurt you like that. If I could time travel, I’d make sure I never started in the first place.”

“You’ve already apologized, specs.”

“I know, but I’ll say it again if it helps. And it’s still hurting you.”

Logan holds out his hands, and Roman lets him grab his own as he unfolds his arms. The touch surges warmth through his arms and burns a deep squishy part in his chest. He gasps for a moment, trying to get a hold of himself as the fire in his heart crackles brighter than it has in a long time. He wobbles a little bit, and Logan holds him tighter as he does. The detective frowns, worry increasing.

“It’s not just- just- how’d you get so warm?” Roman’s eyes haze over as Logan rubs soft circles on his knuckles.

“Oh, Roman. You poor, poor thing,” Logan mumbles, cupping one hand on his face.

Roman’s now-free hand grabs blindly for Logan’s arm, gripping it like a lifeline. Logan strokes his thumb lightly across his prince’s jaw, and it wobbles slightly. Roman’s eyes grow misty.

“My prince, how long has it been since someone last touched you?”

“I don’t- please,” the Prince whines as his eyes shut, unsure what he’s even begging for.

“Shh, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Logan cups Roman’s face with his other hand. Roman responds by melting and grabbing his other arm, trying to ground himself in the surreal reality that this is real, he’s really holding my face, he’s really there. Roman can only lean forward to set his forehead on Logan’s as he feels him shake and become unsteady.

After a few minutes, Roman finally attempts speaking again.

“I need… I can’t think when you do this.”

Logan nods, reluctantly letting go of Roman’s face. The knight in gold, white, and red whimpers at the loss of warmth. He forces himself to ease on Logan’s arms, opening his eyes but remains looking at the floor.

“It’s not just the whole… ‘el príncipe es estúpido’ thing. I guess I, well, I’m not very good with the basic logic things. I’m not- I don’t understand common sense or the most basic of smarts. Not like you do, not in any way, and I’m not smart. How can I be smart if I can’t understand those things?”

“Can I touch you again, my prince?”

Roman glances up to Logan’s eyes the best he can with their head so close, and he nods. He stumbles again when he feels all the burning warmth rush back as Logan cups his face again. He goes back to everything he did previously, and it just melts the poor royal. Logan can’t hold back his coo as Roman’s eyes flutter shut again.

“Just because you struggle with a lot of cognitive smarts doesn’t mean you aren’t smart. Far from it. It simply means that your intelligence comes from your creativity rather than your logic. I think it’s wonderful how smart you are, Roman. You’re so creative and know how to tie together certain things and sew up loopholes without batting a figurative eye. I’m astounded by your intelligence. You impress me more times than I can remember with your problem-solving when it comes to using your creative merits for more than storybooks.”

Roman is breathless by the time Logan ends, feeling unnoticed tears fall down his face and over Logan’s hands. Logan gently thumbs them away as Roman sniffles, crying harder.

“I don’t know if I can believe you, Lo,” he cries.

“That’s okay. I’ll be here to remind you until you do, my prince.”

“Even when I do?”

“If you want me, then yes.”

“I do, I do want you, Logan.”

Logan smiles kindly, pressing a light kiss to his companion’s nose. Roman gives a watery smile in return. The detective lets go of his face and holds out his arms slightly, separating from his prince for a second.

“Come here, my prince. Come let me hold you- oof.”

Roman rushes into his astrophile’s arms, feeling Logan wrap around him tightly. He cries still, burying his face into his companion’s chest. Logan rubs bigger circles on Roman’s shoulder blades. It makes his precious royal gasp and his breath hitch as he leans more into him.

“There you go. Just like that, my prince.”

It takes a while- both unsure how long- but eventually, the burning slowly eases to a vibrant warmth in Roman’s chest. Logan leans his head back to look at his knight.

“Feel any better, hm?”

“Mhm,” Roman feels hazy and wonderfully fuzzy as he relaxes and slumps against his fellow Side’s body.

“Good. You think we can try working out the plot hole now?”

“Mm, yeah. Just give me a minute, specs.”

“Okay,” he says as he kisses Roman's hair.

A few minutes later, and Roman finally comes to. He blinks, easing out of Logan’s embrace. He rubs his red-rimmed eyes, mentally noting to fix his makeup later. He notices some of it got on Logan, along with wet tear-spots and snot.

“Sorry for getting all my stuffs on you,” he speaks softly.

Logan looks down, huffing amused.

“It’s quite alright, Roman. I can always wash it.”

“But you’re always so clean, specs. What would you do if I ruined your reputation?” the Prince jokes.

Logan smirks playfully, “Then I guess I’d have to get you back.”

“And how would you do that?”

“Well, I can’t just tell you my secrets.”

“Logan, that’s not fair.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

“No. No, I know that’s a trap, no.”

They both snicker at each other before calming down.

“Okay, now the plot hole?”

“Right. Well, it’s for the short story, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s see… so we come to the part where the protagonists are captured at the antagonists’ lair, and they know them already. So, how do they?”

Logan huffs, “I’m not very good with creativity, Roman.”

Roman gives him a weird look, but decides to brush it off for the time being.

“Well, how do people usually find out who you are without you telling them first?”

“If we look at history… usually, it’s because someone else told them.”

“Okay, what else?”

“I don’t know, Roman.”

“Well, neither do I! Come on, specs. Go deeper, keep thinking.”

Logan sighs, “Okay. Historically, it’s because someone who knows you already tells the other person without your knowledge. Like figuratively spilling a secret, if you want to go that far.”

Roman nods, “Okay, okay. How do we apply that to our main plotline?”

“Roman-”

“Specs.”

“Fine, if you insist so much. During wartime, there’s a trend of spies or double agents spreading country secrets.”

Roman’s eyes light up like spotlights as an idea forms.

“Oh my gosh, that’s it! Specs, you’re a genius.”

Logan blushes as he raises an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Do tell, Roman.”

“What if one of them were a mole, a spy in the ranks, a betrayer in their adventuring group? That’s how they know the protagonists and who they are. Oh, what if it’s the leader? I need my binder-”

Logan smiles as the plot holes gets resolved, glad he can help in any way. Roman summons his binder and a pen, flipping to the page they marked last session. He scribbles, excited as he writes, bursting and vibrating with creative energy.

“I’m glad it got sorted out, Roman.”

Roman’s smile is alike the Moon; bright, addictive to look at, and could be considered divine.

“If it wasn’t for your creative stroke of genius, it wouldn’t have been. I appreciate it, specs.”

Roman almost misses the small way Logan shrinks. The astrophile rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“I’m not Creativity, Roman. I can’t be creative.”

The aforementioned knight immediately looks up as he stops writing.

“And why not, faux serpent?”

“I’m not lying, Roman. I don’t have creativity. I’m Logic, not-”

“So? If I can be smart and sh*t, why can’t you be creative?”

“Because- because I’m just not.”

“Oh? Who said that I, a very not-logic-smart faucet, was smart but in my own way? The same logic applies to you, specs. You just proved you’re creative!”

“By what? Knowing historical facts?”

“Yes!”

“How is that creative, Roman?”

“It’s creative in your own way, Logan. You using your logic and facts to come up with a solution for a plot hole, that’s creative. That’s how.”

Logan scoffs in disbelief.

“Starlight, why don’t you believe me?”

“Because I can’t be creative! I’m not- that’s not how it works.”

“And why not? Why can’t you be creative?”

“Because I’m not you! I’m not Creativity. You and Remus have your own creative merits, and you know how to weave together irrelevant pilot points and make it make sense. You’re so impressive with how much intelligence and hard work it takes to do what you do, Roman. And I’m… I’m not you.”

Roman sets his pen and binder down on the nearest table, walking calmly towards his companion. He holds out his hands, just as Logan did for him, offering to hold his. Logan takes his hands silently, looking down at them rather than at Roman.

“Oh, starlight. You don’t have to be me to be creative. I appreciate all the praise, you know I do. You don’t have to be like me nor Remus. I mean, sometimes you two have frighteningly similar interests in subjects, which is just weird,” Roman jokes, squeezing his astrohphile’s hands, making him snort. “But you can still be creative, my dearest star. You helped me solve a horribly troublesome plot hole with that creative, wonderfully logical brain of yours. You’re just creative differently from Remus and I.”

Logan huffs, smiling slightly as he looks back up at Roman. Roman smiles back.

“I hate when you use my words against me,” he grumbles.

“Well, I guess you need to stop being right, then.”

“I thought I wasn’t right all the time, Roman. Admitting I’m right when you’re not, are you?”

“Hey- no, don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I dare do what?”

“No.”

They both break into laughter, yet again, and almost forget that they’re still holding hands.

“...can I hug you again, Roman?”

“I’ll do you better, specs. Let me finish the last bits of fixing this plot hole, and we’ll go cuddle and watch that crow documentary you wanted to see?”

Logan’s smile grows, “Okay.”

Roman plants a light kiss to his detective’s hand before he lets go and returns to his binder.

After he finishes writing, they do as promised. Roman summons away his pen and story binder, taking Logan by hand over to his room. He has a tv mounted on one of his walls, a remote on his bedside. He and Logan snap themselves into soft things and gather up on the bed, already summoning a few snacks and drinks. The Prince snaps, summoning a wipe and decides to clean the excess makeup off. They cuddle tightly together. Roman melts at how warm Logan is, and Logan feels reassured with Roman by his side. Roman clicks over to the crow documentary and presses play. As it starts, he leans his head against Logan’s shoulder. A small, fond smile tugs at the nerd’s lips.

They prove each other’s insecurities wrong and rest against each other for a while.

Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20 @thegoldenduckie

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spaceagebachelormann · 8 months ago

Note

hii!!!

could u maybe write some henry clerval headcanons of him courting a fem reader? preferably friends to lovers,,,

ty!!

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

✧.* 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

╰┈➤ NAVIGATION. MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ CARMILLAS NOTES: im ill i apologize in advance if this is horrible . also ur so real i love henry clerval he’s so midwest emo ! also i kinda incorporated the like long distance thing cause of the movie i watched the other day having an influence on me 😔 also pls don’t send any requests after this they’re closed rn! i let this one slide cause i love frankenstein though .. also victor x elizabeth mention cause they’re my roman empire

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: none

you guys met when you were running around the forest one afternoon out of pure boredom

him, victor and elizabeth were also wandering and you had happened to run into them

and because you’re all children in the middle of the woods you obviously became really good friends

elizabeth was happy to finally have a friend that was a girl, victor was happy he had someone he could rant to for hours on end, and henry was just happy in general

trios can be exhausting and he was never big on being elizabeth and victors third wheel so it was wonderful to have someone new to talk to

at first it was just a regular friendship and it stayed like this for years

you only came to geneva around late may and stayed until early september, because your parents had family that you only visited once a year

they became used to you running off with henry, sometimes all three of them or only two or one of the other ones but mainly henry for hours on end and begging to spend the night a few times

while elizabeth and victor spent a majority of their time together, you and henry were practically inseparable

after years of spending your summers with henry, he starts getting a weird feeling in his stomach

like he doesn’t know how to explain it, but whenever he’s around you or thinks about you his heart speeds up and he starts worrying about how he looks or what he’s wearing

he isn’t dumb though, he knows what the feeling is but he doesn’t want to admit it

there’s no point in his eyes because he’s sure it’ll go away soon and he only sees you during the summer anyway

but every year you come down with your parents the feeling will come back instantly (not that it actually went away)

elizabeth is the first to notice this

well victor noticed months prior but he didn’t care enough to ask about it (also because he just didn’t want to)

elizabeth is very calm and understanding and lets him rant to her to figure out his feelings

but henry is an emotional person and has a lot of feelings, so he’s going on for a long time before elizabeth stops him like “are you sure you don’t just like her?” and it all clicks for him

thankfully it’s may and you’ll be on your way in less than a month

by this time you’ve known him well over a decade and he’s finally gotten everything right to finally properly court you

he isn’t persistent or forcing at all, he knows it’s as big as a decision for you as it was him so he’s very patient

the way he begins is very sweet and works almost instantly

first, he’ll invite you on a walk through the same forest y’all met in and just let you rant to him about the last few months since he saw you

with help from victor, he has it all planned so the time you finish talking he’s right at the place he needs you to be

theres this clearing in the middle of the forest where the sun shines perfectly and there’s a little lake where ducks are sometimes and he knows you’d like this spot because it’s quiet and peaceful and nobody is there to interrupt

he had this set up hours before you even arrived as a picnic, all of it being foods and everything he knew you’d like

and while you’re sitting there talking he pulls flowers he picked himself out of the basket the food was in and offers them to you, before properly explaining why he did all of this

he makes sure you know that it you aren’t sure yet you have time to think about it but he’s so happy when you agree either way

hes very caring, the second you’re even slightly injured or sick he’s at your side already trying to make you better

henry also completely prioritizes you over anyone and everything else, he’s skipped out on many things to be with you instead

the second you walk into the room he’s pausing whatever conversation he was in and talking to you instead

and when he’s not talking with you he’s talking about you

“so the other day me and—“ “henry please stop talking about her”

(victor is the main victim of this)

hes also very big on gift giving, he likes to pick flowers for you a few times a week and just buy you things he thought you’d like or remind him of you

honestly hes probably the best character in the story you could be with

#mars writing 🧈#frankenstein (marlees version 🫀)#frankenstein x reader #frankenstein #frankenstein mary shelley #henry clerval #henry clerval x reader

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sleeplesssmoll · 1 year ago

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So I've been reading the traces recently and came across a line that seems like it should be important to well at least something but I haven't seen anyone talk about it? Here's the line btw:

It's specifically the "you're imitating the Messiah" Part that's like making me think. So uhh yeah I just wanted to share it.

Sorry if it's a strange thing to send I wanted to see someone else's opinion on it.

Reverse1999 loves to put Vertin in the position of Jesus. We saw this at the end of Chapter 2 where she was sitting in Judas's position and Schneider was in Judas's spot. Arcana calls her "the savior" and describes Vertin in an almost biblical manner whenever she's interacting with her. Even her little Suitcase is called an "ark". However, this instance is a bit different.

Disclaimer, Idk much about religion but I did try to look this bit up because it reminded me of something too. If anyone has more experience in the matter pls feel free to correct me or add on. I will do my best but I might get stuff wrong.

Note: Vertin was placed in a coma because the Foundation wanted her out of the way. This is relevant to the theory.

Here is what I found:

Source

The Jewish high priests were apparently looking for a reason to get rid of Jesus. As the revolutionary leader of a new movement that challenged the religious status quo, he posed a threat to their power. But they couldn’t just take action themselves. Ultimately, sentencing was up to Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor at the time. And they needed to provide him with a legal justification for Jesus to be crucified. The trial of Jesus A number of witnesses testified against Jesus before the Sanhedrin, a Jewish court. Although the Gospel of Mark says many of them gave false testimony, Jesus didn’t confirm or deny their accusations. In fact, Jesus remained quiet through most of his trial, refusing to respond to the charges leveled against him. But he did respond to one question. Asked, “Are you the Messiah?” he seemed to admit that he was. Caiaphas, the chief priest, called this blasphemy. And then the others agreed that Jesus should be put to death.

This trial parallels Vertin's story.

Moving on, this trail is in the chapter where Madam Z is playing ping-pong while trying to convince her friend to vote for her decision. The whole thing is an analogy to referring to how Vertin started off as the simple Timekeeper who kept records of the end of eras and now she plays this pivotal role that is rocking Foundation's core. She is the real ping-ping ball being batted between two factions of the Foundation. She has no say in the matter because she is now an object in a bigger game. Her fate relies on the people around her. Poor little Vertin is always a pawn in someone else's game. I highlighted some bits in red from the trail posted below that helped me put it together in my head. You can see it if you click "Keep reading." I hope this helps!

Also, thanks for giving me a chance to really look at this. I glossed over it the first time but the scene is even more intense now and I have a deeper appreciation for it. Any corrections or additions are welcome cause I'm out of my depth here.

Source: Chapter 4-16 Ball Game

Ping, pong. Ping, pong. Ping pong ping pong ping, pong. Ping. Pong.

An imitation show?

Yes, an imitation show. A ball imitation show, little thing.

You're imitating the Messiah, while I'm imitating an orange ball made of plastic.

Being pushed back and forth by two rackets, I have nowhere else to go. Once they apply a force on me, I can't help bouncing to the sky.

You can see how the air flows across my dry, wrinkled skin ...

Oh, what a coincidence! Aren't you in the same situation as mine now!

Ha! Look at your frowning face-

Your face wrinkles from the eyebrows to the nose tip, but people can barely see those light furrows. We know what that means. You have a poker face, and it's never your fault.

But for now, your face is not the thing that matters. Well, maybe for someone it is, but still, it's not. You know what really matters?

The game! Yes, it's the game, of course the game matters!

Everyone loves the game. They gather at the stadium, yelling or roaring vehemently. They choose one team to become its fan and spend good money on a team uniform or an autographed ball.

Yet, it's just a ball. You see where I'm coming from?

Just a ball. Its outline, a circle, could be found in any geometry textbook and anywhere in this world. When the first hominid picked up a coconut and threw it to the sky-and caught it—and threw it—and caught it-and threw it again, when she felt joy and yelped, had she ever thought of the future?

The future where a simple ball has become so complicated and enchanting, now we call it the present.

Complicated and enchanting?

Hahahahahaha! Yes, sure! Complicated and enchanting!

Use your silly and smart head to think about this ball game carefully.

The complex scoring rules, the harsh requirements for reactive agility, the countless possible foul points ... Your fingers, your wrists, and arms, a correct way of using them will lead to victory!

What matters more is, like every ball game, it focuses on how you serve the ball and hitting it back.

It's not an easy job as it sounds. When you are in the game, you need to concentrate. Where will the ball come from, and how will you return it to your opponent-you need to figure that out within half a second.

Use your power in a proper way, move your feet in a stable pace, inhale and exhale at the right timings.

Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong...

The sound will last forever and ever until that bouncing little thing falls to either side of the court.

#reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 lore #ask #religion is everywhere #everywhere

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i-speak-for-the-universe · 5 months ago

Text

(READ TAGSSS… pls) Dropping another chapter bc late night motivation got me in a choke hold last night (Logicality Siren AU fic)

Patton woke up on sun-warmed sand, him flipping onto his stomach to cough up non-existent water, all he could remember before being thrown overboard was the hurtful chant’s overwhelming his ears.

He was still thoroughly confused, dazed by the quickly warming mid-afternoon summer sun into another spell of unconsciousness.

He wasn’t expecting to wake up for the second time, already anticipating himself in some type of afterlife until someone shook him, jolting him into complete consciousness.

He yelped, a name almost coming to his lips before it disappeared on his tongue, leaving him panting in the oddly empty air.

“Oh thank the gods, he’s alive.” A relieved voice spoke, followed by a rougher, more scruffy and teasing one. “Ugh, boo! No fun!”

“Remus!” The first voice scorned, Patton blinking as his eyes adjusted to the wonkily distributed candle and lantern light. “Hello? Are you there?” Patton heard words being spoken to him, a hand waving an inch or so away from his face.

He swallowed, getting his breathing under control before answering. “Y-yeah. Where… Where am I?” He asked shakily, giving himself a shake before rubbing his nose bridge, realizing his glasses weren’t there and quickly checking for his conch shell, which was luckily still secure around his neck.

One of the voices snorted, the one Patton assumed was Remus. “Somewhere safer than out their baking on the beach like a human gingersnap.” Patton turned to look at Remus as he spoke.

Remus was tall, his head covered in a mass of long and thick dark brown curls. He had emerald green eyes and a scraggly (yet it was obviously styled to look that way) dark brown mustache. He was wearing black leather pants, boots, and fingerless gloves, covering his chest with a black-dyed deer hide tunic.

“Yes, my brother is at least somewhat right.” So the two were brothers. “This is our humble abode, and we have brought you her in the hope that you are not dead.” The other voice explained, Patton turning to look at that brother.

“And, my apologies, we have not yet introduced ourselves. I am Roman,” Roman put a hand to his chest respectfully. “And that,” He gestured to Remus. “Is my twin brother, Remus.” Remus mimicked the hand-to-chest gesture his brother did, there seeming to be at least an ounce of respect in the man.

Patton took a second to examine Roman before introducing himself in turn. Roman was an inch or two shorter than Remus, straighter and lighter brown hair cut shorter on his head, eyes a shade of brown that sparked a deep red at some angles.

He was wearing brown leather pants and boots, the boots stained darker than his pants. His shirt was an off-white cotton and he seemed to have a leather quiver strapped to his back.

“Oh, it’s alright, I’m Patton by the way!” Patton finally introduced himself, offering a hand for both of the twins to shake.

“Don’t worry, we’ll show you around our small beachside town after we get you something to eat.” Roman said after shaking his hand, smiling confidently as he spoke. “I’m sure you’ll make friends fast, you seem to be a good fellow.”

Roman helped Patton get off of the small bed he woke up on as Remus scurried off to get Patton a change of clothes. Once changed into simple horse leather pants and an off-white and blue striped shirt (though everything was slightly baggy considering the twins both had slightly larger statures than him), he was happy to eat nearly anything set in front of him.

Thankfully, what was set in front of him was a simple spaghetti, though obviously made by Roman due to the twin’s comment on his brother’s inability to not set fire to something when cooking over the three’s meal. The two feuded for the rest of the meal even after they both finished.

Eventually, the argument defused, leading Remus to comment on what to do. “Oo! Ro-bro, we should show Patton around the city!”

While Roman agreed and the twins started deciding where to take Patton, he was internally struggling. He literally just washed up to this town no more than a day ago and now they want to show him the town already?

He was on the fence but it was clear they weren’t going today, so the twins set Patton up with a cot and other sleeping materials before explaining where they would be going tomorrow.

The twins went upstairs to bed, leaving Patton downstairs with just a little lantern and a teddy he was given to snuggle for the night to keep him company.

Something just felt… wrong. The twins were very hospitable, don’t get him wrong, but he just felt like there was an inexplainable gap in his memory that he just couldn’t piece together.

Well, there wasn’t much he could do right now. So, he simply brushed it off the best he could, blowing out the lantern before settling down for bed.

#this still needs a name lol #should patton have a dream about a mysterious and admittedly handsome siren who seems oddly familiar?#or should he just wake up like normal and walk through the town with the twins??#decisions decisions #logan sanders #sanders sides #logicality #patton sanders #siren au

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lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie · 6 months ago

Text

He Loves Me, He Lied To Me

Summary: Or Roman made the mistake of falling for Janus in the courtroom and suffers for it after the wedding. It doesn’t help that Janus is trying to get him back after the pain he caused.

Pairings: One-Sided/Unrequited Roceit

WARNINGS: HURT NO COMFORT (pls let me know if I need to add more warnings)

(A/N: I found another slightly old fic I posted on ao3. This one scream self-projection as I rage at my ex. But hey, it's great angsty fanfic fuel so yay?)

Taglist: @enigmasalad @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @part-time-zombie

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

When it comes to love, Roman wanted it all. As the Ego, he needs it to survive and thrive. After all, an ego is kept healthy with positive reinforcement. As the prince of romance, he loves the rush that love gives him no matter the source. He’s found love in comforting places and strange places.

He’s found it in Patton’s warm cookies and milk, Logan’s story time, bantering with Virgil, and creating alongside Thomas. Recently, he’s found love in the rare moments where he and Remus just hang out and bond like normal brothers.

Then along came the courtroom and the wedding. Along came Janus in his handsome suit, wearing a sly smirk. Roman instantly found love in his little praises and wanted more. They felt so warm and nice that he’d forgotten about Janus’ function while they were in the courtroom. He ended up flirting with him and bantering, flustering at all his words. He really thought the snake side wasn’t all that bad.

Roman still remembers seeing Janus after court and letting him in. The others had said not to talk to him but he was curious. So, he caught Janus that night and they ended up sneaking away to the Imagination where they talked and laugh. They spent the whole night chatting away, sharing secrets and letting their guards fall. Roman had found himself letting the snake in, thinking he’d be the one to love him forever.

It felt nice, having Janus in his corner. Janus had comforted him when he admitted he wanted the callback more than anything but wanted to do right in Patton’s eyes. They wound up having a deep conversation about it. Roman found himself soothed by it. Assured that he was safe with him and he had someone to fall back to.

They would end up meeting again and again at the Imagination, strolling through the forest in the evening and chatting until the sun came up. It was a routine that they easily fell into, waiting for each other just outside the trees. Roman loved every second of it. He would treasure every single night that they talked. Every story and tale. Every playful ‘I love you’ and every comforting word. Every single promise of ‘Maybe one day’ and ‘Someday’ that they made together. Roman had never felt such a wild rush of love like this from Janus.

But sometimes Janus was late or didn’t show up. He would apologize when he did show up, always saying he was busy or had forgotten. Roman tried not to be upset about it but sometimes he couldn’t help but feel like he was literally being ghosted. Still, Roman gave Janus as many second chances he needed. Janus was trying his best after all and he probably had his own struggles. Roman knows he himself has his own problems. It didn’t mean he felt a little hurt when Janus wouldn’t show up or would be late. Roman would also feel a little jealous when Janus would tell him he was with Patton. Obviously, he can’t control what Janus does but it doesn’t stop him from feeling hurt.

Roman still loved Janus though despite him showing up less and less. Even as their conversations grew shorter and shorter, Roman fought to keep him close. He hung onto every word Janus said and looked for things to do so he would stay just a little longer. He would beg Janus to tell him more stories or just about his day. Janus would just go along with it, telling him sweet nothings and making promises of never leaving the prince.

Then one day, Janus didn’t show up again. Roman waited and he never showed up. When Roman returned to the forest the next day and waited, there was still no Janus. Roman then waited another day before deciding Janus must be really busy. When he came back to the forest at the end of the week, Janus was there with an apology. They didn’t stroll that day, merely exchanging quick words before Janus left much to Roman’s disappointment.

It hurt Roman to see Janus drifting away. He wondered what he did wrong. He knew Janus worried about letting people in and he’d constantly reassure the deceitful side that he’d never leave him and that he was always here but Janus didn’t seem to believe that. So, Roman kept trying to remind him. Roman wondered if he didn’t do that enough. He wondered if he was ever good enough for Janus. Janus had always said that he was the only side he could speak to other than Remus but Roman has caught glimpses of Janus interacting with the others. There’s nothing bad about that but it hurt after what Janus told him.

Then came the wedding of Lee and Mary Lee.

Roman didn’t want this but he couldn’t make Thomas look like a bad person. He himself didn’t want to look selfish. He had given up the one thing he desperately wanted. After the wedding, things weren’t any better. Roman had learned Janus’ name and laughed, thinking he wouldn’t mind some banter. It’s what they do, right?

Wrong.

In return, Janus compared him to his twin. To Remus. It stung and felt like a betrayal. It didn’t help that Janus confirmed that Thomas was lying about Roman being his hero. Roman had sunk out after all of that, no longer wanting love anymore. It had all been a lie. Janus lied to him, and it hurts so bad because Roman had truly loved him.

This is how Roman found himself in the forest all alone during the dead of night. It’s dead silent that not even the crickets and cicadas were performing their usual evening symphony. The rustling trees and the whispering wind occasionally break that silence. Other than that, the forest feels empty tonight. Almost lonely. Roman knows how that feels as he trudges through the trees. It’s sad how Roman’s grown used to being on his own here each night. What’s another silent, lonely evening?

Soon, Roman reaches the clearing in the center of the forest. This is where he and Janus used to meet each night to talk or enjoy each other’s company until dawn. And now, it just seems much lonelier than the dark forest. Sighing, Roman sits down on a nearby log bench and stares up into the void of the night sky. His heart aches as he remembers when he and Janus would stargaze together.

Roman sits there and waits. He’s not even sure why he’s waiting again. Janus didn’t show up the last few times before so why would he now? And even if he did, he probably wouldn’t stick around. Still, Roman’s foolish little heart is stubbornly hopeful, so he stays just a little longer.

Roman ends up staying until midnight, laying on the log and wondering if Janus ever even loved-

“Roman?”

After so many painful nights of nothing, Janus finally steps into the clearing.

Roman merely turns his head before going back to stargazing.

“Oh. Now you decide to remember I exist, Janus.” he mutters. “Sometimes I wonder if I still even mean anything to you…”

Janus sighs and sits on the grass by Roman.

“I’m sorry, Roman. I had things to attend to. Plus it’s been a rough few weeks for all of us.” he replies.

Roman looks over at Janus.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” he sits up, “I’m tired of this, Janus. I’m tired of wondering if you’re even going to be here each night. I’m tired of being left to wait and being given the same old flimsy excuses.”

Janus fiddles with his glove. He knows he’s guilty of hurting Roman and will never know how far he did.

“Believe me, I tried to be here but…”

Roman roll his eyes and crosses his arms.

“But what? You were busy again? You didn’t feel like it today? You had too much going on in your head? Janus, make up your mind. Or at the least, come up with a more believable excuse. You’re slipping, Deceit.” he spits, starting to walk away.

Janus follows after him.

“Please understand, Roman. I want to be here for you. I care about you.” Roman ignores him and keeps walking.

“Do you? I’ve tried my best to be patient and understanding. Thomas knows I’ve got a lot of things going on up in my own head.” the prince huffs before looking over his shoulder at Janus, eyes shining with unshed tears. “But I put it all aside for you, Janus. I did everything to make sure you knew I wouldn’t turn away from you or reject you.”

Roman pauses and swallows.

“But it wasn’t enough, was it? I was never enough.”

He then continues walking.

Janus follows again, shame weighing him down.

“You were more than enough. I failed to see that. Let me make it up to you. Please.”

Roman scoffs.

“I gave you every chance to do that. I waited here every damn night until the sun came up. I tried to get you to stay but you left when you had the chance. You made your choice and clearly it wasn’t me.”

Janus yanks a glove off.

“It’s you, Roman!” he cries. “My choice is you!”

Roman whips around.

“What?”

Janus holds his right hand up, head down in shame.

“I…I’ve always been in love with you. Ever since we left that courtroom. I knew I wanted you but after I hurt so many others…I wasn’t sure if I was ready to try again. You are so wonderful and I couldn’t bring myself to ruin what we already that. I didn’t want to lose us. That’s why sometimes I couldn’t bring myself to be here. Especially after the wedding. I’m so sorry if I ever hurt you—”

SMACK!

Roman’s anger had boiled over and he slapped the human side of the snake’s face.

“How could you say that?! Did you really think that I would just change my mind?!” he seethes. “You hurt me, Janus…I don’t want your love anymore. Not when it only means a lie.”

“Roman, please…”

Roman shakes his head, the tears finally spilling down his cheeks.

“Once upon a time I would have felt the same but the moment you decided I was nothing and I no longer mattered to you…” he sniffles, “…I stopped loving you. I wasn’t what you wanted anyways.”

“But you are, Roman.” Janus replies, going over to him and reaching out. “I do care for you.”

Roman shakes his head again, hands up as he backs away from Janus.

“Don’t.” he sighs. “Just don’t. No more lies or empty promises. And don’t try to fight for us now when you caused us to fall apart. If you want to leave me so bad then go.”

It’s sad how Roman’s used to people leaving him once they’ve used him. It used to hurt but now he’s just…disappointed. He really thought Janus would be the one to make him feel loved again. All he feels now is betrayed, his trust in Janus practically non-existent.

Roman sniffs again and turns away. “Besides…who would want the evil twin?”

“Roman, I didn’t mean to—”

Roman starts walking away again.

“Save it!” he growls. “You’ve done your damage already and you can’t undo it. You can’t have my forgiveness. You hurt me too much.”He trembles and chokes out a sob.

“You lied to me, Janus. Just like you were supposed to do, right? I hope you’re happy.”

Roman then vanishes into the darkness of the forest and Janus is left with the dead silence.

Janus can only stand there and think about what he’d done. He hurt Roman. He foolishly believed it would be easy to make up for leaving Roman but he only made things worse. So he lost him. He lost the one person who saw him past the snake that he’ll always be.

Meanwhile, Roman returns and he screams.

Roman screams in agony and sobs, still angry at himself for falling in love with a liar. Angry that he even trusted the snake. Angry that he let himself be vulnerable. Angry that he even believed they would fulfill the promises they made. He screams until he can’t and falls asleep in bed, hoping that someone would save him from his pain. Maybe once he’d hope for Janus’ comfort, but he doesn’t want that anymore. That’s okay. He’s used to being alone. So, Roman spends another night alone, not ever hearing his door creak open.

“Hey, Princey. Are you okay?”

#sanders sides fic #ts fanfiction #roman sanders #janus sanders #roceit #roceit angst #unrequited roceit #hurt no comfort

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theessenceofbeautyy · 7 months ago

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RomanGerri Prompt Party 2024

Guidelines:

For those of you who have never participated in a prompt party you choose a number or a number is requested (depending on if you take asks) and you do the prompt that goes with that number. You can use multiple prompts for one fic and just because you see someone else use a prompt DOES NOT mean you can’t use the same one (a common misconception). All prompts are left up to your very own interpretation and you can use them at any time but when posting on Tumblr be sure to use the tag “RomanGerriPromptParty” so it’ll be easy to find. If this gets any participants I’ll add art and video edit prompts.

Prompts

One of them gets injured and the other has to take care of them.

Gerri as a sex therapist

Getting caught

PDA

Game Of Thrones AU

Gerri praise kink

Mother’s Day

Sharing body heat to stay alive

An "accidental" kiss

Gerri as a female knight and Roman as her Squire

Roman catches Gerri dancing around in the kitchen while making dinner

Person A hates celebrating their birthday but Person B finds out and does something special for them

Going shopping

Roman the handyman

Roman & Gerri get into a fight and have near death experience and angsty make up sex after (canon)

Gerri loses her memories, Roman must make her fall in love with him again

Lonely Roman paints/sculpts a picture a woman from his dreams and she comes to life

Roman & Gerri are professors at the same university, enemy-to-lovers

Gerri is Romans College professor, he can’t focus

Bedsharing

What if Logan hadn’t called (a universe where he got to lay her badly but gladly)

Roman is custodian of a cemetery and meets Gerri when she buries Baird and keep meeting as she mourns.

Roman is disguised as a priest and seeks shelter at a monastery where he meets novice Gerri

Person A is a member of the royal family. An assassination destroys their family, but Person A manages to escape and is believed to be dead. Person A finds out that their power-hungry relative (Person C) was behind the attack and wanted the throne for themself. While on the run, Person A meets Person B, who invites A to their camp. After finding out A's true identity, B and their friends agree to help A to stop Person C's tyranny so A can be crowned as the rightful king/queen

Roman buys a motorcycle

“Come inside” (wink wink) (or not)

Gerri and Roman are actors on the same Broadway show

Gerri is a neglected housewife, in comes Roman

Roman catches Gerri watching "Bridezilla" & "Say Yes to the Dress" and starts planning a secret wedding based on her commentary

Vampire AU

Drunk Gerri accidentally admits something really embarrassing

Soldier/Nurse AU

“Would you like to share the blanket?”

“We have to be quick”

Roman accidentally ingests viagra

Roman comes to bring Gerri lunch but finds her sexually frustrated

"This can never happen again" *happens again*

RomanGerri at a strip club

"I'm really angry at you but also really horny so can we press pause on this fight and fuck first?"

Jealous Gerri (when they aren't even together) and she gets all possessive, angry then takes matters into her own hands so they have a get together sex.

Gerri is a goddess of love. She is responsible to bring people together and help everyone find their true love. However, her fate is to be alone forever. Then she meets Roman and while he’s destined to be with Grace he goes against powers older than life on earth itself in order to be with her.

Drinking Game with 20 Questions

RomanGerri have sex in a library

Gerri being selfish in bed

Gerri’s hair is getting long. Roman is going insane.

Roman getting carried away during sexy times and telling Gerri he’s gonna put a baby in her, Gerri being confused because she’s literally in her 60s but going with it, they have a talk afterwards (crack prompt)

Roman is an assassin hired to kill Gerri but when he discovers a sweet older blonde he decides to protect her instead

Roman discovering Gerris curls

"Please, sing for me!"

“I’ve spoiled you.” Roman being needy

The sibs witnessing them being sweet together (post season 4)

Roman wants Gerri to sit on his lap

“Gerri’s hot right?” Roman trying to figure out if others see what he sees, word gets around to Gerri and she confronts him

RomanGerri make a sex tape (bonus points if they watch it)

Funeral sex

"You can't just run around and threaten to kill everyone." "Oh but you never told me that so how would I know?"

RomanGerri cover up a murder

Roman & Gerri are secretly together when he gets made CEO. A very special congratulations is in order (canon divergence AU)

Through a glitch in the system (or was it?) two strangers find themselves married to each other (inspired by the movie Accidental Husband)

Roman is a gladiator and Gerri is his Domina (pure smut) (totally not at all self indulgent)

Dressing room shenanigans

RomanGerri on their honeymoon

The Devil Wears Prada AU

Surprise orgasm

Gerri meets Caroline as Romans partner for the first time

Roman loves Gerris speaking voice and she finds out just how much

Roman being “weird about Gerri” from Shivs POV

Logan thinks she coddles him

Gerri tries to teach Roman to bake

RomanGerri smoke a blunt (in honor of 4/20 being last week)

RomanGerri and Tomshiv double date (or any ship i just thought TomShiv would have the most angst potential) (angst/comfort)

Accidental orgasm

Roman has the horrible habit of staring at her breasts during meetings, Gerri notices

Desk sex

RomanGerri get stuck in an elevator for hours

Gerri shares an irrational fear with Roman

Roman is convinced he’s gonna die before Gerri and she finds it endearing

RomanGerri make love for the first time in lieu of their usual shenanigans

Pet names

Gerri discovers poems Roman has written about her

Roman unintentionally distracting Gerri

Roman finds out Gerri is weak for his puppy dog eyes

Roman fucks her tits (i literally don’t know a pretty way to put this)

Bathroom scene but the version where Gerri lends him a hand

Gerri catching Roman during one of his many “sessions” in his office

Submissive Gerri

Gerri tells Roman he’s pretty

Gerri watching Roman and Shiv cat fight

Cockwarming

During one of their top secret sexy conference calls Gerri decides to try a new method to talk him off (praise vs degradation)

Gerri is dangerously horny

RomanGerri go to the movies

Roman walks in on Gerri in the bath

Roman wants to be her sugar daddy and is upset when Gerri won’t let him take care of her

Roman being possessive

Roman seeks comfort in Gerri after the hostage situation in Turkey

Roman calls Gerri cute, she’s amused “Roman…I’m 64.” “So? You’re still fucking-I don’t know!”

RomanGerri Apocalypse AU

Roman kidnaps Gerri, she’s not entirely mad

Roman can’t stay mad at Gerri and that makes him mad

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theetherealbloom · 44 minutes ago

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IF THERE'S NOTHING LEFT - CH.1

Chapter One: Be The Light, When All The Lights Go Out

Summary: You, a skilled healer, are brought to Rome by Senator Gracchus under the pretense of treating gladiators and Roman elites. You work with General Marcus Acacius to fight against the cruel reign of the twin emperors. Through danger and shared hope, your connection becomes a source of strength as you both dream of freeing Rome.

Paring: General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, ANGST, Fluff, SMUT, Age-Gap(ish), Ancient Rome, Canon-Typical Violence, Gladiators, Blood, Gore, War, Romance, Politics, Alternate Universe, Eventual SMUT, Slavery, Sexism, Misogyny, Guilt, PTSD, Rebellion, Empires, (Very Light) Strangers-to-Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Crowds, Shouting, Animals, Duels, Loose Historical Fiction,

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF… I NEEDED TO START THIS FIC. RRRAAAAAHHHH. Also, Marcus and Lucilla are NOT married in this fic/AU lmao. I might get some terms wrong since I can’t find the complete script yet (pls help) so I'll be editing this as time passes. And I’m like… not a historian so lol.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: If There's Nothing Left by NIKI

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

A DAY BEFORE THE RANSACKING OF NUMIDIA

ROME, 200 A.D. — DAY

The air in your clinic was heavy with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of sweat. Shouts and groans from the injured filled the space, their voices blending into a cacophony of pain that would have broken a lesser person. But not you.

You moved with the precision of a master sculptor, your hands steady as you sutured the gaping wound on a gladiator’s shoulder. Blood seeped into the linen bandages you’d prepared, but you didn’t flinch. Your focus was unshakable, the outside world forgotten as you worked to save the life in front of you.

General Marcus Acacius stood in the shadows of the doorway, his imposing frame unnoticed amidst the chaos. His dark eyes were fixed on you, the healer who had garnered whispers throughout Rome. He had heard of your work, of course—how you treated anyone who came through your doors, from nobles to slaves, without regard for their station. It was rare to see such defiance of societal norms, rarer still to see it done with such quiet grace.

He watched as you leaned closer to the wounded man, murmuring words of reassurance.

“Stay still, brave one,” you said softly, your voice low and soothing, cutting through his pain like a balm. “The worst of it is over. You’ll be back in the arena soon enough, though I’d rather you didn’t return at all.”

The gladiator managed a weak chuckle, wincing as you tied off the last stitch. “You speak as if I have a choice.”

Your lips curved into a wry smile, though sadness lingered in your eyes. “Perhaps one day you will.”

Marcus found himself captivated—not just by your skill, but by the quiet authority you wielded in the room. It was rare for him to see someone move with such purpose, commanding respect without ever raising their voice.

“You risk much, treating slaves and gladiators,” Marcus said, his voice deep and cutting through the din like a blade.

You didn’t look up, finishing your work before addressing him. “And you risk much, General, entering a place like this.”

There was no fear in your tone, only a calm defiance that piqued his curiosity. Marcus stepped closer, his boots echoing on the stone floor.

“I’ve seen many healers,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “None with hands as steady as yours. Nor one who speaks so freely.”

You glanced up at him then, your eyes meeting his with an intensity that momentarily silenced the chaos around you. He was a striking figure, his presence commanding and his face marked by years of war. But it was his eyes that caught you—the deep well of pain and weariness they carried, hidden beneath a veneer of stoicism.

“Perhaps that’s because most healers know when to hold their tongue,” you replied, arching a brow. “But I’ve found that truth tends to have a healing quality of its own.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile. “And yet, truth has also been known to end lives, particularly in Rome.”

You returned your attention to the gladiator, checking the bandages one last time. “Then it seems we both walk a fine line, General.”

Something about the way you said his title felt less like deference and more like acknowledgment. It wasn’t fear or awe that guided your words, but a quiet understanding of who he was and the power he held.

Marcus watched as you moved to the next patient, a young boy with a deep gash on his leg. Despite the blood staining your hands and the weariness etched into your features, you treated the boy with the same care and kindness you had shown the gladiator.

“Why do you do it?” Marcus asked suddenly, his voice softer now. “Why risk your safety for those Rome has deemed unworthy?”

You paused, glancing at him over your shoulder. For a moment, the question hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“Because someone has to,” you said simply. “If I don’t, who will?”

The honesty of your answer struck something deep within Marcus. He had spent years justifying his actions as a soldier, telling himself that the violence he carried out was for the good of Rome. Yet here you were, defying the very structure that upheld his world, all for the sake of compassion.

As Marcus continued to watch you, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was witnessing something rare—something that Rome, in all its grandeur, could not crush. For the first time in a long while, he felt a spark of hope.

You broke the silence first, turning to face him fully. “Shouldn’t you be with your army—overseeing the ships and preparing to ransack Numidia, yet another city, all for the so-called ‘Glory of Rome’?” You arched a brow at him, shifting your weight onto one hip with a subtle air of defiance.

The corner of Marcus’s mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly. “Perhaps,” he replied, his voice low, “but I find myself drawn elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” You tilted your head, your tone edged with skepticism. “Surely the great General Marcus Acacius has more pressing matters than standing in a healer’s clinic.”

“Perhaps,” he repeated, stepping closer. “But standing here, I begin to wonder if those pressing matters might pale in comparison to what I’ve found.”

Your breath hitched, but you recovered quickly, letting out a soft laugh. “Flattery from a general. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“It’s not flattery,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “It’s truth.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Careful, General. If you keep talking like that, people might start to think you have a heart.”

“Perhaps I do,” he said, his tone quiet, thoughtful. “And perhaps it’s found something worth fighting for, beyond Rome.”

Your breath caught at his words, your heart pounding in a way you hadn’t felt in years. But before you could respond, Marcus turned and walked toward the door, his heavy boots echoing in the quiet.

“I’ll return,” he said without looking back. “There’s still much I need to learn from you.”

And as he disappeared into the sunlight, leaving you alone in the quiet of your clinic, you couldn’t help but feel that your world had shifted—just a little, but enough to make you wonder what might come next.

ROME, 200 A.D. — AFTERNOON

The light of the afternoon sun streamed through the tall, arched windows of Senator Gracchus’s residence, casting golden patterns across the polished marble floors. You moved with practiced ease through the grand room, gathering fresh bandages and jars of ointment from your bag while keeping an ear to the Senator’s usual musings. Today, however, your mind was elsewhere.

“Did you send him to me?” you asked, your tone casual but your curiosity evident. You didn’t look up as you sorted through your supplies, your hands deftly organizing the salves and herbs.

“Send who?” Senator Gracchus replied, reclining on his plush lectus, the deep crimson cushions making him look more regal than his age might suggest. His tone was light, but there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. He was far too clever to play coy without reason.

“The General. General Acacius.” You paused, glancing at him from the corner of your eye before returning to your work.

The Senator’s lips curled into a knowing smile as he raised his chalice of wine. “Ah, Marcus. I may have mentioned your name in passing conversation.”

You froze for a moment, your brow furrowing. “In passing conversation?”

“Of course.” He swirled the wine lazily in his cup. “I simply spoke of a brilliant healer who mends not just bodies but spirits. It seems the good general decided to see for himself if the rumors were true.”

You let out a soft huff, shaking your head as you resumed unpacking your things. “Well, he approached me today.”

“And how was he?” Gracchus asked, leaning forward slightly, his expression both intrigued and amused.

“He seemed…” You hesitated, your hands stilling as you searched for the right words. Memories of the encounter flickered in your mind—his commanding presence, the intensity in his eyes, the way his words seemed to linger long after he’d spoken them. “Alright, I suppose,” you said finally, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance.

Gracchus chuckled softly, setting his chalice down on a nearby table. “Alright, you suppose? My dear, you’re a terrible liar.”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” the Senator began, his tone teasing, “that you’ve just met one of the most formidable men in Rome, and yet here you are pretending he didn’t make an impression.”

Your cheeks warmed slightly, though you refused to let it show. “Impression or not, I don’t see how it’s relevant. I’m here to heal people, not… whatever it is you’re insinuating.”

“Oh, I’m not insinuating anything,” Gracchus said with a sly grin. “But let me give you a piece of advice, my dear. Men like Marcus Acacius don’t walk into someone’s life without a reason.”

“Perhaps he was just curious,” you said, turning away to mask the flutter of nerves that crept up your spine. “Or bored.”

“Curiosity doesn’t often bring him to clinics,” the Senator mused, leaning back once more. “Boredom even less so. Whatever the reason, I’d wager it has little to do with medicine.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “If this is your way of playing matchmaker, Senator, I’d prefer you didn’t.”

“And here I thought you’d appreciate a distraction,” Gracchus said, raising his chalice once more. “But very well. Consider the matter dropped.”

For now, you thought, knowing full well that Gracchus wasn’t one to let things go so easily. As you busied yourself with preparing his treatment, you couldn’t help but replay the moment you’d locked eyes with Marcus Acacius, his gaze heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

Alright, you supposed. But deep down, you knew it was far more than that.

A FEW WEEKS LATER…

OSTIA, PORT OF ROME — DAY

The sun blazed high over the port, casting a golden glow over the triumphant scene unfolding below. The air was alive with the sound of celebration—the roar of the crowd, the rhythmic chanting of his name.

“Acacius! Acacius! Acacius!”

You stood at a distance, hidden in the shadows of a towering marble column, your gaze fixed on the man at the center of the spectacle. Marcus Acacius, the war hero of Rome, returned victorious. His white chariot, pulled by majestic horses, moved with deliberate grace through the throng of citizens who waved laurel branches and tossed flowers into the air.

The general himself was a vision of Roman splendor, adorned in white and gold, a flowing cape billowing behind him like the wings of an avenging angel. He waved politely to the people, his expression calm and composed, though you suspected a storm brewed beneath that veneer.

As the chariot came to a halt at the steps of the grand Temple of Mars Ultor, young girls dressed in flowing white tunics and crowned with fresh flowers scattered rose petals in his path. He ascended the steps with measured strides, the marble beneath his feet gleaming in the sunlight.

You stood among the other servants, the weight of a velvet pillow in your hands anchoring you to the moment. Atop the pillow rested a crown of golden laurels, shimmering with the promise of empty glory. Senator Gracchus had arranged for you to present it, an honor you neither wanted nor could refuse. Your palms were damp with nerves, but it wasn’t fear of the crowd or ceremony that unsettled you. It was the cruel spectacle of it all—the emperors reveling in their power while Rome decayed beneath their feet.

Marcus reached the top of the steps, standing before the twin emperors. Geta, younger and deceptively charming, gestured to the approaching general. Caracalla, brooding and sharp-featured, watched with an intensity that made the scene feel like a predator sizing up prey.

Marcus placed a fist over his heart in the Roman salutatio, nodding first to one and then the other. “Emperor Geta,” he began, his voice steady. He turned his gaze to the other. “Emperor Caracalla.”

“General Acacius,” Geta replied with a wide, practiced smile.

Marcus straightened, his tone humble yet firm. “I have taken Numidia in your names. Your dominion may yet eclipse that of every emperor who came before you.”

Caracalla smirked, gesturing lazily to you with a flick of his hand. “Crown him with laurels, brother.”

Your heart leapt as all eyes turned to you. You stepped forward, forcing yourself to keep your movements measured. Bowing your head slightly, you presented the pillow to Geta. He took the crown, sparing you no more than a dismissive glance, and you retreated quickly, blending back into the shadows as the ceremony continued.

Geta placed the golden laurels atop Marcus’s salt-and-pepper curls, his smile widening as the crowd erupted in cheers. The senators clapped politely, their faces masks of approval, though you wondered how many of them truly celebrated the general's return.

The procession moved inside the temple, where the grandeur of marble columns and gilded statues loomed over the gathering. You lingered near the edges of the hall, half-hidden among other attendants. Your eyes were drawn to Marcus, who stood surrounded by Rome’s elite yet seemed entirely apart from them.

Geta approached Marcus with two chalices of wine, his gait almost casual. “In honor of your conquest, there will be games in the Colosseum,” he said, handing one to the general.

Marcus accepted it with a polite nod, though his expression remained neutral. “I require no games in my honor. Serving the senate and the people of Rome is honor enough for me.”

He raised the chalice to toast, but Geta pulled his cup back with a sharp laugh. “You are too modest, Acacius. It does not suit a general as accomplished as yourself.” He clinked their glasses together before Marcus could respond, his tone dripping with mockery.

“The glory is yours, not mine,” Marcus replied, his words measured. “I only ask for respite from war. To spend time with…” His voice trailed off as his gaze flickered briefly—so briefly—toward you.

Your breath hitched, the moment so fleeting that you questioned whether it had happened at all.

Caracalla, lounging nearby, smirked. “Time for what, general? Gardens and poetry? Or something sweeter?”

Geta ignored his brother, moving to a table where a long ceremonial sword rested. He lifted it, examining the blade with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “There are victories yet to come, Acacius.”

He turned back toward the general, raising the sword as if to knight him. Lightly, he tapped Marcus’s shoulders, then paused, the blade hovering near his neck.

“Persia. India. Both must be conquered.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, Geta pressed the edge of the blade against Marcus’s neck, the sharp metal breaking skin just enough to draw a thin line of blood.

Marcus didn’t flinch, though his expression darkened. His voice was low, steady, and cold. “Rome has so many subjects. She must feed them.”

He swatted the blade away from his neck, a flicker of defiance passing between him and the emperor.

Caracalla’s laugh rang out, sharp and cruel. “They can eat war!”

Geta let the sword clatter to the floor, the sound echoing across the hall. “Your triumphs will be celebrated, General Acacius,” he said, his tone pointed. “As a tribute to the greatness of the Roman people.”

He extended his hand, adorned with gaudy rings, and Marcus had no choice but to bow and kiss it. You saw the flicker of disdain in his eyes even as his lips brushed the emperor’s hand.

From your shadowed corner, your heart ached for him. For the man who bore the weight of Rome’s sins with a quiet dignity that deserved so much more than the cruelty of its rulers.

VILLA DI DOMITIA LUCILLA — NIGHT

The villa perched on the outskirts of Rome exuded a quiet elegance, its columns and arches glowing under the pale light of the moon. The night was thick with fog, curling like tendrils of smoke through the cypress trees that lined the estate. A gentle breeze carried the scent of rosemary and lavender from the gardens, mingling with the faint hum of nocturnal life.

Inside, the villa was equally serene. Lucilla, ever gracious, had agreed to host you at the request of Senator Gracchus. The senator had claimed it was “more appropriate” for you to stay under her care, given the delicate balance of Roman customs and the constant scrutiny of the twin emperors. In truth, you suspected it was also for your safety. Lucilla’s influence, though quietly wielded, was a shield few dared to challenge.

The villa was warm and inviting, a haven amidst the chaos of Rome. Yet, even as you settled into your temporary quarters, a restlessness stirred within you. You missed the simplicity of your small home, the steady rhythm of your work. Here, despite Lucilla’s kindness, you felt like a guest in gilded captivity.

Meanwhile, Marcus Acacius found himself battling his own restlessness. When he learned you were staying with Lucilla, the knowledge sparked an idea he could hardly ignore. Though he was no stranger to the villa—it was a place he visited often as a long-time confidant of Lucilla—tonight, his reasons for coming were far from casual.

He rode through the foggy night, his steed's hooves echoing against the stone-paved road. The air was cold, biting against his cheeks, but he barely noticed. Two of his guards flanked him, silent and watchful as shadows.

When he reached the gates of the villa, a sentry stepped forward, his spear raised in a show of duty. “Halt! Who goes there?”

The torchlight illuminated Marcus’s face, and recognition dawned on the guard. His stance shifted immediately. Placing a fist over his heart, he bowed. “General.”

“Open the gates,” Marcus commanded, his voice steady but not unkind.

The heavy iron gates creaked open, and Marcus dismounted his steed with practiced ease. A stable boy rushed forward to take the reins, bowing quickly before leading the horse away. Marcus adjusted his cloak, brushing off the dampness of the night, and stepped into the villa’s grounds.

Inside, Lucilla greeted him in the atrium, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and her sharp eyes glinting with curiosity. “Marcus,” she said warmly, though there was a knowing lilt to her tone. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Marcus replied, his lips curving into a polite smile. “I was nearby and thought it prudent to pay a visit.”

“Nearby?” Lucilla arched an elegant brow. “Unless the general has taken to wandering the countryside aimlessly at night, I suspect there’s more to this visit than proximity.”

Marcus didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning the villa’s hall. It was quieter than usual, the stillness broken only by the faint crackle of torches and the murmur of distant voices.

Lucilla stepped closer, her expression softening. “She’s in the east wing,” she said, her voice dropping slightly.

Marcus turned to her, his gaze sharp. “Who?”

Lucilla smirked, crossing her arms. “You didn’t ride through the night for me, Marcus. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You always see through me, Lucilla.”

“It’s a gift,” she quipped, then gestured toward the hallway. “Go. But don’t wake the entire villa with your heavy boots.”

Marcus inclined his head in thanks before making his way toward the east wing. The soft glow of oil lamps guided his path, casting flickering shadows on the walls. As he approached your quarters, his steps slowed.

You were seated by the window, a soft blanket draped over your shoulders, gazing out at the misty garden. The stillness of the night felt fragile, like it might shatter at the slightest sound. The dim light of the oil lamp beside you softened your features, though weariness lingered in your eyes.

A soft clearing of a throat broke the silence, low but deliberate.

You turned quickly, your heart skipping at the unexpected intrusion. “General Acacius?”

He leaned against the doorway, his armor traded for a plain, white tunic and dark cloak that suited the quiet of the night. His lips curled into a faint smirk. “My lady.”

“I am no lady, General,” you corrected, your brow arching slightly.

“Marcus,” he said, stepping into the room with a deliberate grace. “And I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t,” you replied, though the confusion in your voice was evident. “What brings you here at this hour?”

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his words. Then, with a slight shrug, he said, “I wanted to ensure you were settling in comfortably. Lucilla’s hospitality can be... unique.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips. “It’s generous, though I can’t help but feel a bit out of place.”

Marcus nodded, his expression thoughtful. “This villa has always felt like a sanctuary. But I know it can be difficult to find peace in unfamiliar surroundings.”

For a while, silence stretched between you. The weight of the world outside the villa—Rome’s cruelty, the constant tension—seemed to press lightly against the walls, but here, in this moment, the quiet was soothing.

“Did you really ride all this way just to check on me?” you asked, a teasing note in your voice that broke through the stillness.

His lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile warming his face. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

You tilted your head, studying him carefully, your gaze soft but sharp. “I might.”

He stepped closer, the flickering light of the lamp catching the faintest glimmer in his dark eyes. His expression, though tempered by years of military discipline, held a warmth that made your heart skip.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.

The room seemed smaller suddenly, the air charged with something unspoken. You cleared your throat, shifting slightly, your hands clutching at the fabric of your skirts as if to anchor yourself.

“I thank the gods that brought you back home safe,” you said, your voice quieter now, tinged with something deeper.

Marcus’s gaze didn’t falter. “Thank the army,” he replied humbly. “They protected me.”

You nodded, acknowledging his words. “You must be hungry, then?”

He raised a brow, clearly amused by the shift in the conversation, but he didn’t resist. “It has been a long ride.”

Turning, you glanced toward the servant standing silently near the doorway. You offered her an apologetic smile, and she nodded in understanding before quietly leaving the room to fetch food and drink.

As the door closed behind her, you turned back to Marcus. “It’s the least I can offer after you came all this way.”

His lips twitched again, his faint smile now fully formed. “You’ve already offered more than you know.”

You blinked, tilting your head in quiet curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Your kindness,” he said simply, stepping closer still. “It’s rare in Rome. Even rarer in my world.”

Your cheeks warmed under his steady gaze, and you quickly turned your attention back to the window, hoping the dim light would hide your reaction. “I only do what anyone should.”

“Perhaps,” he said softly, “but not everyone does.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a flutter through your chest. When you finally looked back at him, he was closer now, his presence commanding but not overwhelming.

“You’re too generous with your praise, Marcus,” you said, though the words felt light, almost teasing.

“And you’re far too modest,” he countered, the smirk returning to his lips.

The sound of footsteps approaching signaled the servant’s return, breaking the charged silence between you. She entered with a tray of fruit, bread, and wine, placing it on the small table by the window before bowing and retreating once more.

You gestured toward the table, a soft smile gracing your lips. “Please, sit. You’ve had a long day.”

Marcus inclined his head, his expression grateful as he took the seat opposite you. The light from the lamp flickered between you, casting long shadows on the walls.

As you poured wine into two cups, the flickering lamplight caught the soft curve of your profile, drawing his gaze. Marcus watched you, his expression thoughtful, warm, and just a little too intense.

“You should know,” he began, his voice low and deliberate, “this isn’t just about ensuring you’re comfortable.”

Your hands hesitated for the briefest moment before continuing their task, but the air in the room seemed to thicken. You glanced up at him, your brow arching as you placed one of the cups in front of him. “Have you finally come to your senses and decided to arrest me? For treating those the Senate deems unworthy of saving?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, a wry, fleeting almost-smile. “No.”

You leaned back slightly, folding your arms across your chest, your head tilting in mock suspicion. “Then perhaps you’ve come to lecture me? To remind me how dangerous it is to meddle in things beyond my station?”

His gaze softened, the warmth in it almost unsettling. “Do you think so little of me?”

The teasing edge in your posture faltered for just a moment before you quickly recovered, glancing down into your own cup. “You’re a General, Marcus. You’re loyal to Rome. To the Senate. My work…” You shrugged, trying to sound casual despite the weight in your voice. “It doesn’t exactly align with the ideals of your empire.”

Marcus reached for his cup, his hand brushing briefly, almost imperceptibly, against the edge of yours. “You’re right,” he said finally, his tone unreadable.

Your gaze snapped to his, surprised. “I am?”

“You don’t align with the empire,” he continued, taking a slow sip of the wine. “You stand above it. You see its flaws and still choose to fight for what’s right, even when it’s dangerous. Even when it puts you at risk.”

The words struck something deep within you, leaving you momentarily at a loss. You hadn’t expected that—his understanding, his admiration.

“And you don’t find that... infuriating?” you asked, trying to mask the tremor in your voice with a wry smile.

“Infuriating?” he echoed, setting the cup down. “No.” His gaze held yours, steady and unyielding. “It’s extraordinary.”

A sudden heat rushed to your cheeks, and you turned your attention to the fire crackling softly in the hearth. “You’re far too kind, General.”

“Marcus,” he corrected gently, leaning forward.

“Marcus,” you repeated, the name tasting unfamiliar on your tongue, though not unpleasant.

He smiled faintly, as if satisfied. “And I’m not being kind—I’m being honest. Too few in this city have the courage to act as you do. Even fewer have the heart.”

You looked back at him, searching his face for any trace of insincerity and finding none. The man before you wasn’t the untouchable war hero paraded through Rome’s streets. He was something quieter, something deeper.

“And what about you?” you asked softly. “Aren’t you tired of all this? The battles, the politics, the endless expectations?”

His expression shifted, a shadow passing over his features. “More than you could ever know.”

The quiet confession hung between you, delicate and heavy all at once.

“Then why not walk away?” you pressed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He gave a low, humorless laugh, running a hand through his curly hair. “And go where? Rome would never let me go, even if I wanted to. And…” He hesitated, his gaze flicking briefly to you before settling on the fire. “There are reasons to stay.”

Your breath caught at the implication, but you forced yourself to keep your tone light. “Duty, I suppose?”

His eyes met yours again, darker now, more intense. “Something like that.”

The weight of his words pressed against your chest, and you found yourself wondering if he could hear the sudden quickening of your heart.

“I’m not sure I understand you, Marcus,” you said quietly, the teasing edge gone from your voice.

“Good,” he replied, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’d hate to be predictable.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, shaking your head as you finally took a sip of your wine. “You’re certainly not that.”

The room fell into a companionable silence, the crackling of the fire and the distant chirping of crickets filling the space. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the weight of the world seemed to lift, if only slightly.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, your voice soft but sincere.

He tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For coming,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “For… for seeing me. Not just tonight, but—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “For seeing me as more than what Rome would make me.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, the guardedness in his eyes melted away, replaced by something unspoken but undeniable. “It’s impossible not to.”

The words wrapped around your heart, and for a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to believe them.

“At times, I wish you would abandon all of this,” you said softly, your voice trembling with honesty. “The wars. The blood. The service to men who deserve none of it.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching before he answered. “I’ve made my choice,” he said, his tone resolute, but there was a flicker of weariness in his eyes. “I can live with it. But my patience with them is at an end.”

You glanced toward the far corner of the room, where Leta, the ever-watchful servant, lingered. Offering her a kind smile, you said, “Leta, you may go to your quarters now. We’ll need nothing more this evening.”

Leta hesitated, her gaze flickering between the two of you, but at your gentle nod, she smiled and curtsied, before slipping out, leaving the room steeped in a quiet intimacy.

Marcus exhaled deeply, as if the act of speaking had been weighing on him. He set his cup down on the nearby table across from you, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as though bearing the weight of Rome itself. “To hear wives and mothers mourning their dead on that beach of Numidia…” His voice was low, rough with emotion. He scoffed bitterly and ran a hand through his hair. “No more. I will not waste another generation of young men for their vanity. If I fight another campaign…” His gaze hardened, a fire igniting in his eyes. “It must be to depose them.”

Your breath hitched at the words. “You’re telling me this… why?” you asked carefully. “We’ve met only briefly. Why would you trust me with something so dangerous?”

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “Am I wrong to assume that Senator Gracchus and Lucilla have been whispering thoughts not unlike my own? That Rome deserves better than two tyrants playing at being gods?”

You hesitated, your lips quirking slightly to the side as you considered your answer. Finally, you gave him a small nod. “You’re not wrong. The whispers grow louder with each passing day.”

For a moment, the room was silent save for the crackle of the fire in the hearth. You licked your lips nervously and took a steadying breath. Meeting his eyes, you asked, “When will your troops arrive?”

“They’ll land in Ostia in ten days,” he replied, his voice low and firm.

You nodded, your mind already calculating the implications. “How many will be loyal to you? To you alone?”

“All of them,” he said without hesitation. “Many of them owe their lives to you, as I’ve heard it. Your words of wisdom, your care in the camps—they remember. Soldiers don’t forget kindness, especially in a world so devoid of it.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you pressed on. “The emperors have lost the people’s support,” you said, your voice heavy with conviction. “The citizens are weary of their madness, their tyranny. What is the dream of Rome if our people are not free?”

Marcus let out a long sigh, the weight of the truth settling over him. “A dream deferred,” he murmured. “But not lost. Not yet.”

The silence that followed was charged, the enormity of what lay ahead pressing upon both of you. You searched his face, seeing the resolute determination of a soldier but also the quiet yearning of a man who had seen too much, endured too much.

“And what of you?” he asked, his voice softer now. “If the tide turns, if the gods will it… what would your dream of Rome be?”

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “A Rome where compassion isn’t a weakness. Where the people, not the emperors, hold the power. A Rome where no child grows up in fear of a tyrant’s whim.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the hardened lines of his face eased. “That’s a dream worth fighting for,” he said quietly.

You gave him a small, tentative smile. “And worth surviving for.”

The words lingered in the air between you, a shared understanding forming in the flickering light. Neither of you dared to say it outright, but the unspoken promise was clear: whatever lay ahead, you would not face it alone.

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