#analyze/criticize the show all you want

[psychedelic-ink]

the mandalorian discourse is so funny to me because it's just people trying to convince the other the season is good or bad--

besties, you're aware that you can have different opinions right? Please calm down, I promise it's not worth the stress you're putting yourselves in

[snekdood]

Idrc if you wanna find the politics in every piece of media you consume but personally i dont really care to all the time like idk. Like idk sometimes i just wanna enjoy shit w/o constantly thinking about the underlying politics or whatever? Sometimes its hard to ignore if its super rw based but still, a lot of other shit i just feel like im investing more energy into this shit than was intended for most ppl like idk. The underlying political implications of spirited away. Idk i just dont really care lol

[spatialwave]

"my ambition" - part one

pairing: jayvik x fem!reader word count: 1k tags: mdni! semi-nsfw, fluffy, poly relationship, reader has a chronic illness, no use of y/n, not beta’d. notes:no summary bc it’s very short n sweet and mostly just some fluff!! will probably write a part 2 to this or use this fic as a base for future one shots hehe. reminder that my ask box is open! 🩵 credits: art by @/shuploc & divider by @/cafekitsune on tumblr!

part 2. ->

“No, no, this doesn’t make sense.”

The flickering flame of several candles lit up the darkened apartment as Jayce sat over a scattering of papers. His back hunched, eyes tired, stubble unshaved and fingers tracing over the writings on the parchments. Forever studying and analyzing ways to work with the hextech, to improve upon it and use it to help others. To help you, and Viktor.

“Sleep is good for the brain.” A tired voice spoke from behind him.

There was a quiet groan that erupted from deep within his chest, a reprieve from the chaos in his mind, as he rested back against the wooden chair that creaked beneath his weight. Your hand, a delicate touch, trailed over his bare shoulders as he worked late in only his nice pair of trousers that were gifted by the Kiramman family.

He hadn’t taken a single moment of rest since a meeting with Viktor and Heimerdinger earlier that day to go over progress of the hextech research. They had hit a roadblock, having advanced so far, yet still struggling to find ways for it to help the people, rather than just Piltover.

Hextech was more than a tool to better run the city and improve upon its trades within Runeterra. If only he could find a way to stabilize the crystal.

“You’re overworking yourself, Jayce,” you continued, arms now wrapping around his shoulders. Your chest pressed against the back of his head, hands palming against his muscled chest.

“I’m this close to a breakthrough,” the man sighed, finding comfort in your touch as he leaned back and let his eyes flutter closed, sleep heavy in his head, “Progress Day is three months away, and what do we have to show for it? An unstabilized crystal?”

Jayce was worked up like this more often than not, the work with hextech had taken the forefront for years now. Recently it had begun to consume him, but you were the recipe to keeping him sane. 

You were his rock, as he said.

“Hexgates, airships, robots,” your posh accent chimed as your body moved and you’d managed to sneak your way onto Jayce’s lap — ultimately severing the line between him and his work. 

Your chests pressed together, faces only a few inches apart as you stared into those honey-coloured eyes.

“Why do you always get so down on yourself?” 

Jayce stared at you, strong calloused hands settling on your hips as you straddled him. He had no ambition to answer, knowing very well that he was his own worst critic and you were his biggest supporter. 

“You’ll get there,” you continued, head ducking as your lips pressed to his jaw. The roughage of his stubble prickly against your lips as you kissed, trailing from under his chin to underneath his ear, “now, I haven’t had a chance to have you in over a week. I think I’m rather deserving.”

That roused a chuckle from him, a toothy grin on his lips as he allowed himself to relax under your touch. 

“I want to do this for you,” he murmured, head lulling back as you kissed down his neck, “something to help.”

“I know,” you soothed, one hand palmed at his chest as you pulled back, a finger touching his chin and tilting his face back to you, “I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”

Jayce’s eyes opened, and it was like seeing you for the first time all over again. Beautiful and glowing.

Your sickness was well-hidden, a struggle you dealt with behind closed doors. Pain that erupted through your veins, left your muscles weak and skin burning. It came in flares — aches so painful it left you bedridden for weeks.

Once an Academy all-star, now confined to your apartment. You were thankful for Jayce and Viktor, the two most important individuals in your life.

“Now come to bed. I can’t remember the last time you’d managed to stay up later than Viktor,” you smiled, shifting off of his lap. Two quick breaths blew out the candles, and you’d managed to pull Jayce along behind you like a lovesick puppy.

You dropped the robe that had covered your body, revealing your half-naked body save for the underwear that hugged the curves of your hips. The mattress dipped under your weight as you crawled in next to a sleeping Viktor, who had retired to bed with you a few hours earlier.

He rolled onto his side toward you, a slender arm wrapped over your waist and bony fingers pressing into the skin of your hip. You pressed yourself against his frail chest, face buried as you inhaled his scent and Jayce slipped under the blankets on the other side of him.

“Finally wrangled him?” Viktor hummed, half-asleep, as both yours and Jayce’s warmth kept him tired.

“You’ve let him beat you again. You’re losing your drive for all-nighters full of bright ideas,” you murmured, nuzzling against him.

“I’ve long lost that spark,” Viktor mumbled, burying his face in your hair and sighing as he felt Jayce’s hands slide along his bare skin, “I’m a tired old man now. I can live with that.”

Jayce snorted, “I do it for the both of us then,” he murmured into his lover’s ear, breath warm and tickling his skin. A shaky breath trembled out from Viktor’s lips, tensing his arms around you.

You were quick to join in on the fun, lips attached to the base of Viktor’s throat as you left a trail of feather light kisses along his skin. One hand reaching down between his legs and into the briefs he wore.

“Can’t a man get rest?” he breathed out, squirming between you two. 

“No,” Jayce huffed, lips pressed to Viktor’s shoulders as he assaulted him with a flurry of open-mouthed kisses to his skin, teeth and lips dragging against him.

“Sorry, love,” you whispered, licking a line on his neck before suckling on the skin, “I may have riled him up in the kitchen.”

“How awful,” he sighed, though, there was nothing Viktor enjoyed more than having two lips and two pairs of hands traversing his body. 

He melted into the touch as the three of you consumed each other. Hands traveling over skin, lips connected, tongues lapping at each other and clothes ripped from bodies.

The three of you were the embodiment of love. On the worst days, there were no thoughts of giving up. You were each other’s ambition.

[loveemagicpeace]

🎲Lilith in Signs 🎲

Lilith in Aries- your dark side is that you want to be independent and confident about yourself. Nothing and nobody can stand in your way. When you set your mind to something, you want to have it and you stand behind it. You don't give up until you reach your goal and you can also be very competitive. Sometimes, your need to prove yourself can spill over into hypercompetitiveness. You must learn to love your tender parts of yourself.

Lilith in Taurus- You deeply appreciate life's pleasures and enjoy luxuriating in them whenever possible. indicates that your sense of security is violated. You can feel that it is not safe to have fun, be yourself, or to be happy about the beauty of life. People with this placement can feel that if they share what they have, others will take everything from them. Intimacy is very important to you. They can be quite possessive of their partner.

Lilith in Gemini- your trauma involves many people, from your neighborhood, classmates, relatives. Maybe as a child you felt like they had control over you or they hurt you in a way that made you feel like you weren't smart enough. Communication could also be a problem for you. Lilith in Gemini is often involved in conflicts. People with this placement can unintentionally say things that others misinterpret, or they find offensive. You are always careful when u say something.

Lilith in Cancer- your traumas come from your family, people who are close to you. It also includes your home and your comfort. Feeling like you can't find your home. You can feel like you want to control relationships, especially if you create a really beautiful and vulnerable relationship with someone. At the same time, it is difficult for you to be vulnerable in front of others or to show this side because you have the feeling that someone will destroy it. It is hard for you to ask for help and accept it. In extreme cases, this placement can even indicate trauma. It can also play out as one of the family members having serious problems that poison the domestic atmosphere. Cancer is all about being safe, nurtured, taken care of. Lilith here can either manifest as rejecting the idea of nurturing, or alternatively, being obsessed with it and overcompensating it. Your relationship with your parents is usually troubled, especially with the mother.

Lilith in Leo- your traumas come from childhood. Maybe in your childhood you felt that you didn't get the joy you wanted as a child. It's hard for you to show pride, ego and passion for the things you love to do. It's as if the energy is constantly pulling you back to do something you really want and to find pleasure. Here may be the pleasure you want but just can't find. Lilith in Leo can suggest that the father was very domineering, dictatorial, even abusive. Love had to be earned, if there was any at all. Lilith in Leo people have a strange relationship with attention. They want it, but they are afraid of it too. Admiration is a wound-healing balm, or at least it soothes the pain. In chart can suggest imbalance between masculine and feminine energy.

Lilith in Virgo-your trauma can come from your daily life, routine, things related to order, work, health, animals, caring. You may have a problem with not knowing how to serve others or be there for them (take care of them literally). Maybe you want to express this side of yourself more, but you don't know how. You can have a lot of problems with animals (they can die a lot), and every time you get a new pet you are afraid of it dying. Also shows a strong desire for control, order, and perfection. Lilith here suggests that you are very sensitive. It is not easy to express yourself in a healthy way with this placement. Lilith doesn’t tolerate being controlled, forced to stick to routines, and it can rebel against planning and logic too. It is extremely critical and analyzes everyone it meets if they meet its standards. You don’t like to let others see your vulnerable side.

Lilith in Libra- a lot of trauma comes from relationships and romantic relationships. You are hungry for love, but you can’t get enough of it. There is a tendency to see your shadow side mirrored back by others. You pay a lot of attention to what others want from you, even define yourself as the function of your relationships. As an adult, you probably dislike conflicts. If there is a lot of drama in your relationship, you want to get out of it. Libra want to be close to someone, but they are afraid of it too. Unconsciously they often sabotage their relationships. There can be a tendency to project your own insecurities onto others.

Lilith in Scorpio- There was lot of dark things that you experienced as child. And there may be secrets that you have to keep and could also be that you're afraid of the dark thing somehow. Can create an overwhelming desire for control and power in your life. There is a lot of tension in your mind, but it is hidden from the external world. Lilith in Scorpio forces you to face your shadow. Secrets come to light sooner or later. You can’t hide from your problems for long. This placement can help you find your power, but the road is not easy. Being at the mercy of someone else is one of your worst nightmares. Lilith here can be obsessed with safety.

Lilith in Sagittarius- This gives you warm and bright energy that other people can't help but fall for. And while you love the attention you get from others, you're not as keen on settling down. There is a strong desire to carve out your own path. You tend to go to the extremes with this placement. However, integrating your Black Moon Lilith can help you understand yourself on a much deeper level and find your personal power. People with this placement have a strong desire to understand themselves on a very deep level, or alternatively if they try to avoid self-reflection, life forces them to be more introspective.

Lilith in Capricorn- you can have traumas involving your father or a person who may have had control over you (adult - older person). You may have trouble connecting with people who are older than you. You can have many fears. Becoming emotionally independent but at the same time being able to experience love and intimacy is a core theme here. Lilith here asks you to find balance between independence and acknowledging vulnerability. Learning to let go is another important lesson. Feeling safe in a relationship is not easy for you. However, Lilith here can also manifests as trusting the wrong person.

Lilith in Aquarius- you may often feel like you were a stranger in this world, detached from other people. However, understanding your Lilith can help you accept yourself and find your personal power. You want to maintain your independence at any price, what needless to say, makes relationships hard for you. This placement can even suggest being adopted or having unusual genetic heritage. As a child, perhaps you learned that trusting others can get you seriously hurt. Perhaps you experienced traumatic betrayal.

Lilith in Pisces- with this placement you are either overly realistic, or you for some reason don’t seem to able to pull your weight when it comes to dealing with reality. This Lilith sign tends to get lost in fantasy. They want to understand themselves and other people on a very deep level. As you grow older and integrate this placement properly, you can become very wise. This placement can also manifest as not being aware of your emotions, especially the negative ones. You are way more receptive to influences around you than most people. This placement can even indicate relationships with people who need help or who take advantage of you. You can have illusions about others and their intentions.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah💗

[phladydoor]

Okay now a post that is actually about the show itself. Spoilers ahoy! You’ve been warned.

When people kept talking about how TIT kind of is a hard launch, but in a “if you know, you know” sort of way, I was skeptical.

I am no longer skeptical. It genuinely feels like the show was crafted to broach what they are to each other, but also to acknowledge that like — half the fucking fun is in analyzing their relationship. The mystery and the conspiracies and the zoomed in screenshots and all that shit is part of it. They’ve come to terms with it. They can poke fun at it now because they have the ability and willingness to draw clear boundaries with us.

The whole show is them going “sure we could tell you! But is that really what you want?” They know that to some extent we are a dog chasing a car. Yeah, we’re having a grand old time sprinting down the road barking our brains out — but what are we gonna do if we ACTUALLY catch up? What on earth would we, a dog, do with a car?!?

TIT is so smart. It takes parasocial connection and deconstructs it, criticizes it, and eventually celebrates it — all while actively engaging in it. It’s such a well written show.

It’s also silly and stupid and gay and fun. And I love that for us.

[michellesneptune]

HOW THE MOON SIGNS ACT WHEN THEY LOVE YOU pt. 1

disclaimer: forgive me if the series doesn’t cover all twelve signs, but i don’t think i’ve known enough people to speak about everyone’s way of loving. please be patient🤗

aries moon/1H

ooooh those little devils🔥😈 you can see the mischievous twinkle in their eyes. they’re children of Ares - the god of war! when they speak of their loved ones it feels as though they’re ready to kill for them any minute, only waiting for the right (or any😂) reason.

(just my observation, please don’t come at me) i believe that these natives are prone to being more loyal, less selfish and flaky than aries venus. aries is known to be 'the baby' of the zodiac, valuing independence and self-fulfilment greatly. however, i’ve noticed aries moons to be devoted af!! you will never catch them bad mouthing a friend or a partner.

also, from my experience, both placements like to fight, however aries venus often does it for own enjoyment, the initial chase turns them on. as for aries moons, they’re more steady. they would go to great lengths for friends and partners. you can call them in the middle of the night and ask the craziest favor, they WILL come and help.

(please keep in mind that i mean unevolved aries venuses that still have a lesson or two to learn!)

PS. they love to be treated like the center of your world, please give them attention💕

taurus moon/2H

hmmmm how do i put it… 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍! i will say that i am biased bc my boyfriend is one and the way he’s attentive, always asks about the details of my day, pays attention to my routines and shows love through acts of service🥹 you’ve probably heard the rumours and they’re true. taurus moons make the best cooks ever. and i don’t mean putting together a couple of cheap pancakes, nuh uh. their sharp senses only let them buy the best quality ingredients and cook with great care. bonus points if they prepare a dish that they know is your favourite!

i will say though, they are not the most verbal lovers. but when they’re in, they mean it. when they say they love you, it becomes a fact so obvious that they don’t feel the need to repeat it over and over. they like to settle into a routine, so don’t expect them to be flaky, send mixed signals and stir things up just to feel something/for fun (sag moons cough cough😅😅).

they also seem brutal sometimes. but i believe it’s because they see honesty as the highest form of trust. they want to feel comfortable with you. they value silence, too. they’re the type to show you their appreciation not by telling you how perfect you are but by actually putting in the work to show you your value and show that they’re worthy of being by your side.

lastly, their homes are their sanctuaries, a reflection of their feelings. usually beautiful and they look for someone worthy of letting in, to match their belongings. they get a rep for being possessive and stubborn, nevertheless with the right person they can make a sacrifice and at least try to change their ways😂😂

virgo moon/6H

okay so i know they’re said to be critical, demanding, neurotic etc but hear me out. virgo is a mutable sign, ruled by mercury and in true mutable fashion they DO get wild, fun and unhinged lol. as a virgo moon myself i am well aware of the fact that i often act like i’ve got a stick up my ass. but when i get closer to you i want it all: karaoke nights, fast car rides, spontaneous trips! sometimes i even take those things to the extreme!

they’re also said to have the highest standards. and while i imagine it’s partly true, i believe that this placement is all about accepting the biggest, weirdest quirks of your s/o (as well as 6th house synastry!).

besides, i think that we get more so insecure and self-critical in relationships, analyzing the f outta our partners, wondering whether we’re meeting their demands! we’re about the overall quality of the partnership and just want it to be perfect🥺 we’re also quite anxious and require lots of reassurance.

lastly, everyone knows it: virgo moons are like the final boss of small acts of service lol. vacuuming your flat, folding your clothes. they notice the smallest things that could improve your life and happily do them for you!

capricorn moon/10H

this one is tricky. they remind me a bit of taurus but more rough in a sense that they probably won’t pamper you with luxurious baths and gourmet food but they will do things like pay your rent, get you a job or buy a car😂. i’ve noticed them to be a bit grumpy sometimes, definitely not the softest lovers.

they’re up to giving some tough love. pushing you into a scary path that they know will be rewarding in the end. teaching you that even in the hardest lessons of saturn there is light. they’re not the most cheerful on a daily basis but - surprisingly- they are the ones that keep calm in the face of crises. they’re like okay we can’t do anything about it now let’s appreciate what we do have and focus on what we can change.

it’s because they know all to well how karma is. they had to learn it the hard way which made them so strong and resilient.

what i’ve personally noticed: they will stick by your side no. matter. what. this isn’t always a good thing as sometimes it’s best to walk away but if you’re expecting a cap moon to give up on you, don’t.

i also feel like they’re used to being the oldest sibling, the mom friend etc. please take care of them from time to time!

that is all i have for you! thank you for reading💕 i wish all of you lots and lots of love💋 see ya

~Michelle

[dorabellingham]

Fashion critic

warning: words of a "sexual nature"

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you do some shopping and he wants to analyze all the pieces of clothing, or better yet, admire his girl

may contain spelling and translation errors!

After finishing opening all the boxes, Jude was sitting on the couch, watching the veritable parade of luxury you had brought home. He shook his head, sometimes in disbelief, sometimes in amusement, as she arranged everything around you. Between shoes, bags, dresses, and even a pair of sunglasses that he swore he had seen you wear something similar to, the room looked like a designer store. Jude stretched his legs out on the couch and crossed his arms, with a mischievous smile on his face.

—Okay, sweetheart, let’s go. Since you spent all this money -with my money, by the way, I think you should at least try it on for me.

You stopped folding one of the bags and turned to him, with an arched eyebrow.

—Oh, really? And why would I do that, Jude?

He shrugged, still smiling.

—Because I’m the official sponsor of this game, and I have the right to approve the investment. What if something isn't worth what it cost?

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

—Oh, so now you want to be a fashion critic, babe?

—Exactly, babe. —He leaned forward, patting the cushion next to him. —Come on, go ahead. Show me what my money bought.

You huffed, but grabbed one of the dresses from the bag and went to the bedroom.

—Only because I know you love seeing me wearing these things.

—And without them too.

He muttered mischievously, and you threw a shoe in his direction before disappearing.

When you came back, wearing a short black dress that perfectly highlighted your curves, Jude's eyes widened, whistling softly.

—Wow. See? That was worth it, sweetie.

You twirled around in an exaggerated way, as if you were on a runway.

—So, Mr. Critic? Do I pass the test?

—Easy. —He smiled and gestured for you to come back. —Next.

You laughed, but kept changing clothes and coming back with different pieces. A long, flowing dress, boots that made you look taller, elegant jackets, and even a super stylish sweatsuit that you used to tease.

—This one is for when you make me lazy at home.

You said, laughing.

Jude was having more fun with each change, applauding exaggeratedly at some and even getting up to adjust details in others.

When you appeared with a red silk dress, that hugged your body in a way that seemed to have been tailored, your boyfriend was silent for a few seconds, just staring.

—So, Bellingham? Aren't you going to say anything?

You asked, tilting your head.

He got up from the couch, approaching slowly.

—I think this one… — He left the sentence hanging in the air, holding your waist and sliding his hands over the fabric. —It should be just for me.

You laughed, pushing his chest lightly.

—Oh, sure. Because I'm going to spend all of this to use it just here at your house.

—If you're going to make me like this... yes.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks blushed slightly. Jude noticed and smiled even more.

—Come on, go. Is there more or is it over?

He teased.

You sighed dramatically.

—There's more. But if you don't stop being conceited, I'll save the rest for another time.

He walked away with his hands raised.

—Okay, okay. I promise to be serious. Go ahead.

When you came back for the last time, wearing an oversized blazer and knee-high boots, he couldn't help but smile.

—That's... that's so you, babe. It suits you perfectly.

You smiled, adjusting your blazer.

—So I passed the test? Was it worth the investment?

—You passed with flying colors. But... — He pulled you by the hand, making her sit on his lap. —I don't think it was an investment. It was a gift. You deserve all of this.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

—And you think I don’t know that you love to spoil me?

—Of course I do. But now… —He looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. —I think I’m going to need a few more close-up evaluations.

[yandere-daydreams]

I have a Yandere idea for you, if you want of course!❤️ How about a yandere who is rejecting his love for the reader or in denial, and as a form of escapism creates a doll identical to the reader, maybe it started small, like him creating beautiful dresses to the reader doll, or sleeping together, eating together, maybe even giving the reader doll a kiss while his shadow critically analyzes the situation... Meanwhile he keeps bothering the reader, or teasing or trying to do all sorts of things, like flirtations that he may have practiced with his doll with the reader, giving sweets that he prepared..

tw - stalking, obsession, and disturbing themes.

wait that's so scaramouche coded actually,,, nonetheless we persist.

it's just such a show of pure, uncensored, incurable desperation. they want you, but they can't have you, so they have to settle for an imitation - cold and lifeless, sure, but as close to the real thing as they can get (well, before they're finished renovating your future bedroom/holding cell, at least). they took good care of little you, too - changing your clothes twice a day, cuddling you at night, kissing your forehead when the real you's done something that makes them want to throw doll you across the room. it's funny, how similar the list of things that can break porcelain is to the list of things that can break bone. it's good practice. they lasting they'd ever want to do is hurt their darling love, no matter which form you might come in.

the doll's good for practicing other things, too. they'd never know how to talk to someone like you in-person, so they practice on the doll, doing their best to stringing along a conversation and trying not to care that the only response they get is a glassy-eyed stare. they'd like to have a little experience under their belt by the time they actually bring you home, so they practice going over the list of rules they've drawn up with little you, walking through your daily schedule, trying miniature versions of the, uh, ""accessories""" they've bought ahead of your arrival to make sure they're all as cute as they imagined. admittedly, sometimes their activities veer into less-than-wholesome territory, but they try to catch themself before they can fall into the subsequent shame-spiral, to remind themself that this is a form of practice, too. they want to be able to take care of you - in every way you might need to be taken care of.

it is really so bad to vent a little frustration out on your temporary replacement, in the meantime?

[c1trvswurld]

Adding on I hope this will be the last time I interact with any of her work since it just sent me down a rabbit hole of all kinds of fucked in the hb and hh critical tags lmao (though I do want to redesign a lot of characters, like the materials-dislike the way they were built)

Another thing that bothers me is the color scheme. I'm not commenting on how everything is red bc that's been done hell and back (and tbh a lot of vivziverse critical stuff is a repetative echo chamber of hatred i don't wanna submerge myself in that [whole acc dedicated to hating the show is craycray ngl bredren] life is good and I am happy). BUT it saddens me how their designs feel like clusters of color. If you greyscale them a lot of them don't have noticeable value changes. And I simply wish lighting was used and taken into value more. Especially when gluttony was introduced I could not see anything that ep.

Instead of forcefeeding a character as someone you should not mess with, give them intimidating intimate lighting. If you want to make sure a character is seen as fun and silly but still has power or is two faced put them in harsh lighting that covers half of their face. Things like that. But sometimes it feels like I'm being forcefed instead of guided every single thing. And left to dry on very major events if I didn't check the wiki.

Or how I can tell that they have amazing ideas and concepts but the execution feels bad man lmao.

Especially characters like husk, vaggie (hate that name for you babe), alastor (i could fix you please), angel dust (don't @ me but I kinda dislike his character)...

And specifically Stella, she is so interesting and under utilized to me and I think people forget that she too, along with stolas, was forced into a political marriage. I'd love to give her design hints and references to being just a bride her entire life. She is collateral both in lore but in Fandom. And the hatred for her feels very eh (she's not a great person by any means and I'd love to see her love her kid lol but still it seems like she was forced to have octavia)

That's it idc that much anymore I am free.

Im kinda so very much out of the vivziepop helluva boss loop since its been a while since I watched anything of hers (And because spme of the writing and some of her...choices character design wise turned me off from interacting further) but one thing I will never not have in the back of my mind is how they portrayed striker* as being unreasonably petty and angry at the mistreatment of imps and that his agenda was misguided hatred.

When from what I get in lore from what I remeber that imps systematically are treated like shit and so infantilized by higher-ups that they are treated as pets so I honestly I dont blame him for being a hater as well as not understanding why anyone would--esp an imp would wanna be in cahoots with these infamously elitist classist set of assholes.

[writingsbytee]

IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU

WARNINGS: 18+; Minors do not interact!!; SMUT; porn with very little plot; Unprotected Sex, dirty talk, spanking; size kink?; switch

SUMMARY: You and Aaron finally confessed how you feel about each other, now it’s time to get it in!

PAIRING:  Aaron x Lauren “Lo” (reader)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The part 2 you guys have been asking for I hope it’s everything y’all wanted! As always constructive criticism is appreciated but be nice please because I’m sensitive. 

WORD COUNT: 4,176

*Please don’t plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs. Happy Reading!!* 

I feel like a fucking idiot. I’m lying on Aaron’s bed trying to figure out if this position makes me look sexy or like I’m trying too hard. I adjust my boobs for the thirtieth time hoping they look perky enough. Fuck it, I’m hot as fuck. Curves and all, so what my stomach isn’t flat or I’m not a size 4? My body allows me to do amazing things every day I’m grateful for her and I need to lift her up not find a new thing to over-analyze. 

Moving some of Aaron’s pillows I start to make myself comfortable. I lean up against the head of the bed when Aaron enters the room shirtless. His eyes scan the room before they land on my stocking-clad feet and slowly make their way up my body, stopping briefly to stare at my hips and boobs. Something about having Aaron look at me like he’s never seen a woman before makes me feel like an absolute minx. 

I bring one leg up and cross it over the other, “See something you like big guy?” Aaron smirks as he makes his way to the foot of the bed.

He raises his hands above his head, resting them on the top of his canopy bed. His eyes low and lust-ridden, lord forgive me but I’m going to climb this man like a tree.

Towering over me, “Princess, you have no idea. I’m going to do unspeakable things to you.”

“Up, on your knees,” Aaron commands.

My mind is at war, I want to please him but, I’m also not used to being submissive. I slowly position myself on my knees, my heart pounding with anticipation. 

“Crawl to me, pretty girl,” Aaron says unbuckling his belt. If anyone could see us now, they’d say I set feminism back about twenty years. Any woman who tells me they wouldn’t crawl to Aaron in this state is lying. I’d skip if he asked. I reach him at the foot of the bed, and he looks down at me. 

“Mm, look at you. So pretty and obedient, too bad I have to punish you.”

“P- Punish me? Why?” I ask leaning back on my calves. 

“Talking down on yourself. Lo, you’re beautiful. Every part of you from your dimples to your double-jointed big toe you don’t think I know about,” Aaron says with a laugh. 

“Shut up!” I gasp out a shocked laugh. Aaron lets out another laugh before straightening up. 

“In this house, I don’t want to hear you say anything bad about yourself from this point on. Do you understand?”

I laugh again rolling my eyes, “You can’t be serious.”

Aaron’s eyes darken, he rolls his shoulders back, and clears his throat, “Turn over and leave your legs hanging off the bed. Now.”

I cock my head to the side, processing what he just said. On one hand, part of me wants just to shut my brain off and let him take control. On the other hand, I’m a boss-ass bitch who doesn’t bow down to any man. But, it looks like the man standing above me will have me do just that. 

“Lauren give in. Don’t you want me to take care of you? You won’t have to lift a finger with me, baby. You spend all day putting out fires for everyone else. Let me take care of you, give in to me sweet girl. Your pleasure is mine. Let me show you what you’ve been missing,” Aaron snaked his hand up to the nape of my neck and began massaging my scalp. 

I reach my hands out, craving to touch him. My hands land on his abs, and I let out a deep sigh when they make contact.

“I’ve dreamed about doing this for years,” I said sliding my hands up his body. 

“You should’ve done it. Would’ve saved us both a lot of time,” Aaron chuckled pulling me closer by the waist. 

I slide my hands up his arms, tracing the veins that live there eventually interlocking my hands behind his head. 

“We’re here now, and I wouldn’t trade our journey for anything. Plus it was really hot seeing you all jealous like that,” I smirked up at him. 

“Hot huh?” Aaron’s lips curled into a smile. I rolled my eyes huffing out a small laugh. 

“Aaron c’mon you know you’re fucking hot. I didn’t know if you felt the same way I did but, you wouldn’t act like that unprovoked. I had my suspicions but that solidified everything for me.”

“So you’re telling me all I had to do was go all caveman to have you like this?”, Aaron said leaning down to kiss up and down my neck.  I nod, moaning softly in his ear. 

“Fuck, I love when you make that sound. Keep using your voice baby, let me hear you.” He slides his hands further down gripping both my asscheeks in his hands and he grips them. Aaron’s hands are everywhere except where I need him most. I’m whimpering and fidgeting hoping he can take the hint.

“What did I just say? Do you want something? Use your voice, or it’ll be a long night for you,” Aaron says smacking my right asscheek. 

“I want you to touch me, please,” I whine.

“Good girl but, I am touching you. You’re going to have to be a little more specific,” Aaron smirks. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Fuck, just touch my pussy or something, please! Or do I need to start without you?” I say getting impatient. 

Aaron makes a tsk sound before saying, “And you were doing so well.” He flips me over on my stomach, positioning me with my legs hanging off the bed. 

“You’re never going to fuck me, are you?” I ask with attitude. 

Aaron scoffs from behind me but doesn’t reply. I move to sit up but Aaron presses down the center of my back forcing me back down on the bed. 

“Don’t move, you’re really pushing it, baby girl. You still have time to turn it around, to get a reward from Daddy. Now be a good girl and give me your wrists”

My mind blanks, “My wrists?”

Aaron walks around the bed and squats down in front of me, “Lauren you trust me don’t you?” I nodded. 

“Then baby you have to let me in a little. I know this is new for you but I promise you’re safe with me. Let go and see how fun this is. I promise if you don’t like anything tell me and we’ll stop, ok?” Aaron’s hand is stroking up and down my back. I can feel the tension leaving my body, my eyes softening. 

As a black woman, I always have to be on defense. I never get to submit to something/someone because I always have to be dominant.

“I’m trying I’ve just never been with anyone like you. This is new to me,” I say leaning up on my elbows.

“I promise we’ll go at your pace. Lauren I want to do this for you, you don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time. You can surrender and give me the reigns baby I got you,” Aaron gives me a small smile and leans down to kiss me. I respond immediately, desperate for his attention, his affection. I wrap my arms back around his neck pulling him closer to me.  a muffled ‘unh unh’  leaves his lips before he reaches for my arms, placing them back at my side.

“You’ve been a real brat tonight. what do you have to say for yourself?” Aaron asked standing over me.

I look up at him with a small smile on my lips, “Sorry, Daddy”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?” Aaron asks flipping me back over. He takes both my wrists in his hands, waiting for my reply. 

I nod, “Yes Daddy, I’ll be good.”

A satisfied hum leaves Aaron as he steps back, “Stay put, I’ll be right back.” Then he wanders into his closet and comes out with a tie in his hand. My pussy clenches at the thought of him tying me up and using me for his pleasure. New kink unlocked. Aaron positions my hand behind my back at the base of my spine. 

He ties my hands together, “Now try to break free.” I do as he says, my wrists have a little wiggle room but not enough to get me out of these bindings. 

“If there’s anything you don’t want, or if you want to stop at any point just say ‘red’ and we’ll stop. Okay?” Aaron asks rubbing a hand up my back.

“Ok Daddy, I understand,” I say interlocking my hands together. I feel a rush of cool air as he pulls my panties down.

“Fuuuck, look at this fucking pussy. She’s glistening and so pretty,” Aaron says from behind me. 

I scoff and say, “She better be, all the foreplay I had.”

“Is that attitude I hear?” I feel the warmth of Aaron’s body shifts as he changes his position to stand. Before I can reply, I hear the crack of his hand on my ass before the stinging warmth envelopes my left cheek. 

An involuntary moan leaves my lips and I feel my pussy clench around nothing. I don’t expect being spanked would have this effect on me. There’s no turning back now, so I just let go and enjoy everything Aaron offers.

“Oh, you like that? You’ve ever been spanked before princess?” Aaron asked grabbing my left cheek.

I’m scrambling to find the words, “Yes I.. I like it. No, you’re the first to ever do it,” I say wiggling my hips from side to side.

Aaron groans, his fingers starting to play in my slick, making me moan. 

“You don’t know how happy that makes me princess. To be the first one to corrupt you and make this ass as red as a stop sign,” Aaron said landing another slap on my ass. 

“You going to talk about it or do something?” I asked wiggling my ass back and forth to try and get some kind of reaction from him. 

Aaron lands another slap only ass and I yelp, “Open your fucking mouth. Now.” I turn around sending him a small smirk before I open my mouth, my tongue hanging out slightly. 

“Tired of hearing you run your mouth, so how about I stuff it closed for you?” Aaron mocks. My excitement spikes as I nod eagerly. Finally, I’ll get to have that dick down my throat, my mouth waters at the thought. A deviously sexy expression takes over Aaron’s face as he reaches for something by his feet.  A surprised shout leaves my mouth as Aaron shoves my panties between my lips. 

“Aww, you thought you were getting Daddy’s dick huh? Now why would I reward a mouthy little brat like you? You need to learn a lesson, back on your stomach,” Aaron commands. 

I didn’t think I could be more turned on, but my bedsheets will prove otherwise. I’d never thought something like this could make me so hot. Being under his thumb, letting him take complete control it’s cathartic. A muffled whimper leaves my lips as Aaron grips both my asscheeks hard, jiggling them. 

“Look at this juicy fucking ass baby girl, one day I’ll take this ass,” His hands are like heaven and he kneads and rubs the globes of my ass. I’m squirming on the bed, begging him to do something, anything. 

“Pwease,” I moan around the panties.

A slap landed on my ass with a loud ‘thwack’ and if I get any wetter this bed will turn into a slip and slide. Aaron kneads the tender flesh before he lands more punishing hits. I’m a mess of moans, whimpers, and drool by the time Aaron finishes with me. 

He circles his bed, kneeling in front of me, “Now do you think you can be a good girl for Daddy?” I nod mumbling out a ‘yes’. Aaron pulls the panties out of my mouth before attaching his lips to mine. 

“Untie me, please. I need to touch you, baby,” I moan into Aaron’s mouth. Aaron leans back to look down at me and I’m sure I look crazy. Drool on my chin, tear tracks on my cheeks, and I can’t quit squirming due to the ache between my legs. 

Aaron brings his hand up to my cheek, “Tell Daddy you’ll be good. Say, ‘I’ll be a good girl for you Daddy’ and you can get whatever you want.”

This is it, there’s no turning back and I don’t want to, “I’ll be such a good girl for you Daddy. Please, fuck me. I’ve been waiting so long Aaron, I need you.” 

Feminism be damned, I’ll submit to this man any time, any place. I love him, but will I tell him that tonight? Probably not. 

“See, there’s my sweet girl. Just had to spank the brat out of you. I’m going to make you feel so good, Lauren,” Aaron’s nimble fingers undo the knot that kept my wrists in place. Once he finished that he placed two kisses on the inside of each wrist. He moves me up to the center of the bed while he stands and takes off the rest of his clothes.

“Being that fine should be illegal. You’re so handsome, baby,” I’m pretty sure my eyes are sparkling. I look down at the monster between his legs and a shock of excitement runs up my spine. He’s got girth and length, oh he’s going to destroy me.

“I’m going to need a wheelchair,” I said dragging my eyes up to meet his.

Aaron chuckles as he crawls his way up the bed, “You’ve got a great way of boosting a man’s ego baby. Now spread those legs and let me se fat ma’,” Aaron positioned himself between my legs and spread them. I could hear how wet I was as Aaron pried my legs apart. 

“God, I wanna eat that fucking pussy,” Aaron’s eyes glaze over as he swipes two fingers through my folds. A small gasp leaves my lips when Aaron takes those fingers and sticks them in his mouth. 

“Mmm, damn that’s good,” Aaron moans as he releases his fingers from his mouth with a pop. 

“Round two I promise, but I need to be inside you now Lauren,” Aaron leans back on his calves and reaches toward his bedside drawer.

“What are you doing?” I ask reaching for him. 

“Umm, getting a condom,” Aaron said reaching into his bedside drawer.

“Oh, well I haven’t been with anyone since before we moved in together and I’m clean. No pressure or anything but I’m down if you are,” I said wringing my hands together. 

Aaron pauses, “I haven’t been with anyone in 8 months and I got tested 3 weeks ago. I’m clean.”

A small smile makes its way onto my lips, “Me too.”

 “You’re ok with this though?” Aaron asks bending down.

“Yes, I trust you, Aaron. Now please can you fuck me? Haven’t I been a good girl Daddy?” I ask peering up at him. He tilts his head toward the ceiling groaning out a ‘fuck’. I sit up reaching my hand around his neck and tugging him down so I can kiss him. Our lips meet again and I’m so far gone he won’t have to do much to make me cum.

We lay there just making out, taking our time reveling in this moment. I lean slightly and nip at Aarons's bottom lip soothing the sting with a flick of my tongue. 

“Fuck, do that again,” Aaron groans in my mouth. 

I laugh in his mouth before I snake my tongue back over in his mouth and play with his. Nipping, sucking, and pulling, I treat his tongue like a dick. I move so I’m sitting on his lap, his dick trapped in between us leaking pre-cum. 

“Fuck Daddy, you have the prettiest dick,” I say looking down at where I wish we were connected. 

Aaron chuckles, “Haven’t heard anyone call him pretty before.”

I scoot closer, trying to bury myself under his skin. Mouthing at his neck, “It’s the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen. Now when are you going to put it in me, baby? Can’t you feel me? How wet I am for you?”

A groan comes from deep in Aaron’s chest, then he crashes into me and I’m flat on my back. 

“You little minx, let’s see how much shit you can talk when I’m nine inches deep,” Aaron said positioning himself at my entrance.

“Nine?” I asked placing my hand on his abs to slow him down.

Aaron smirks, “And you’ll feel every inch.” He leans down to kiss me before I can respond. Aaron slowly inches inside of me. When he said I would feel every inch, he wasn’t lying.

“Oh my god!” I moan my head tilting toward the ceiling. I look back toward Aaron to find him smirking at me. “C’mon baby you can take it. I know you can… fuck. This pussy is too good baby and I haven’t even started moving yet.” I could barely tell where I ended and Aaron began, and he wasn’t even fully inside me yet. 

Aaron slowly inches out before sliding back in, a small hiss leaves my lips at the stretch. “Talk to me baby, how’re you feeling?” Aaron asked as he peppered my face with kisses.

“Mmm, I want more of you,” I say shifting my hips so I could take more of his dick. “Well, I better give baby what she wants then huh?” he bottoms out in one thrust, stealing the breath from my lungs. 

“Damn Lo, you’ve been sitting on sunshine baby,” Aaron says his face scrunched in that adorable scowl. I raise my hand to his brow bone smoothing out the harsh expression painting his face. I can see his mind is elsewhere.

“Come back to me, baby,” I sit up slightly placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth.  Aaron’s eyes meet mine as he starts to thrust. This is by far the best sex I’ve ever had. Aaron’s the perfect size for me, big enough to hurt a little. I can’t contain my moans as he picks up his pace. 

“How’s that feel baby girl? This pussy taking my dick so well. Does it feel as good for you as it does for me?” How he’s able to ask all these questions while fucking the shit out of me is beyond me. I can barely put two words together and he wants me to answer questions.

“Eungh! Fuck Daddy you - you’re so deep. Feel you in my stomach!” I moan out my voice tilting up a bit, I was getting close.  Aaron's eyebrows shot up as he looked down at me, “Dick got you feeling good princess?” I can’t think of anything other than the way his fat dick is filling me up. Jabbing that spongy spot repeatedly makes me stars.

“Aaron! Aaron! Oh god!” I yell leaning up to kiss him. It’s sloppy, passionate, and punishing. I can’t help the little squeals my mouth releases. Aaron leans up on one elbow so he’s slightly hovering over my upper body. His eyes cast downward towards my boobs, his hand snaking up to take one his grasp. Pinching and tugging at my nipple, Aaron leans down taking my breast in his mouth.

“Oouuu Daddy shit!” I squeal. I feel like I’m being set on fire, blood boiling under my skin making everything sensitive. I wasn’t going to last too much longer.

“You want Daddy to make you cum?” Aaron asks with his mouth around my tit. 

“Please! Please! Please! I need to cum!” I’m delirious, moaning wantonly. Aaron brought the hand that was on my breast up to my throat and squeezed. He applied the perfect amount of pressure, depriving me of just enough oxygen to bring my sensitivity up another notch. I don’t even think I’m saying words anymore. Cock-drunk babbles flowing my lips.

“Look at me when you come Lauren,” Aaron taps four fingers against my cheek three times bringing me back to him. I focus my brown eyes on his the color of moss. He’s so fucking pretty like this. Eyes soft and determined, his plump lips set in a slight pout. I bring my hand up to his face, grabbing the back of his neck.

“Baby I’m going to cum. You’re going to make me cum!” I squeal when I feel him place his thumb on my clit rubbing with the perfect precision. 

“Then cum, give it all to Daddy. Give me that shit Lauren, now!” Aaron shouts as his thumb and forefinger pinch my clit. A scream claws its way out of my throat as my orgasm hits me like a truck. It feels so good, like everything and nothing all at once. I heard the squelch and swish of fluid as I squirted all over Aaron. 

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about! Good girl, let Daddy have it,” Aaron brings his fingers back up to my clit, rubbing more out of me. It catapults me right into another orgasm, I’d never had another one so soon after! 

My eyes start to roll in the back of my head, but Aaron reaches up giving me three more taps. 

“Come back princess, watch Daddy come for you,” god did Aaron know how to talk you through it.

I sit up, aiming for Aaron’s ear, “Come in your pussy Daddy. I need you to fill me up.” Aaron releases a low groan, I tilt my head back to watch his face as he comes for me. 

“You’re so pretty while you’re cumming for me, Aaron. Yeah, that’s it. Good boy,” I moan placing a small kiss on his lips. Aaron’s hips stutter, he lets out a breathy grunt, and then I feel the warmth of his cum bathe my insides.

“Mmm, thank you, Daddy,” I moan as Aaron’s thrusts slow to a stop. Aaron’s shoulders relax as he fixes his eyes on mine. 

“Oh my god! That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” Aaron says pulling me to him. 

“I know, it’s never felt like that before. Aaron, I’m already falling for you,” I say looking away, scared to see his reaction. His finger hooks under my chin, tilting my head up so our eyes can meet.

“Lauren, I fell for you the minute I saw you,” a small grin takes place on his face. I return his grin with one of my own. 

“I’m going to pull out, okay?” Aaron said leaning us back down on the bed. He slid out of me a sigh of disappointment leaving my lips. Aaron flops on his side, he reaches over to pull me in for a kiss and I meet him halfway. A content hum leaves his lips as he pulls back. 

“I love you,” Aaron says with pure adoration glowing in his eyes. I feel my eyes widen in disbelief. Aaron seems to come out of his post-orgasm fog as he starts to look a little nervous. Before he has a chance to try and take it back I blurt out, “I love you too”. My eyes started to sting with unshed tears.  Aaron leans in to kiss me again, and we stay that way until we have to get in the shower the chill of the sheets setting in. 

“Come on baby let’s get you cleaned up and put some fresh sheets on the bed,” Aaron threads his finger through mine to his bathroom. He cuts on the shower and then goes to take care of the bedding situation before joining me. Where we spend more time exploring each other. It’s not until I’ve had three more orgasms and the water runs cold, then we got out.

THE END

OMG !! I hope I did this spicy scene justice. I worked hard on it, I hope you guys enjoy this piece. As always constructive criticism is appreciated but be gentle with baby, she’s sensitive. I hope you guys have a great week! Until next time!!!

TEE <3 

TAGLIST:

@blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @kianaleani @pinkkycherrish @shallipii @greatpandagladiator @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @megamindsecretlair

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

[littlemisspascal]

Creature Comfort

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Female Reader/OFC

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: 

Waiting out there is General Marcus Acacius. A real man of flesh and blood, strength and power. The legendary Atlas Lion himself.

Your husband-to-be.

Rating: M / 18+ only

Warnings: Language, at least a million historical inaccuracies, referenced smut, references of blood + war + death, weapons, too many lion/animal references and metaphors to count, reader has self-esteem issues, arranged marriage, domestic life, cameo of reader's parents, switching povs,

- Reader has no name and no physical traits described in detail. Reader wears clothes such as a toga + wedding outfit

Author Note: This started as me simply wanting to write a fic where Acacius is compared to a lion and Reader's his wife and then it quickly led to me having a complete emotional breakdown that caused me to quit writing entirely for several months. Not one of my finest moments, but 🤷‍♀️ that's life I guess. It's nice to finally toss this fic out here, hopefully someone somewhere enjoys it 🧡

Special thanks to @wheresarizona for putting up with my emotional highs and lows and answering some questions about Rome for me and for just being an overall too-nice-for-this-world person I'm lucky to have met on here 💗

The morning of your wedding you can barely stomach your breakfast. Nerves are natural, your mother assures you, watching with a critical eye as the female servants of the house help dress you.

Your impending ceremony has severed your protection of your family’s household gods, leaving you spiritually defenseless until you’re officially wed to your husband. Maybe that is the true source of your worries, dark spirits playing wicked games with your heartstrings. Or maybe it’s your mother’s looming presence coupled with her stubborn determination to see you safely married off, analyzing every inch of your bridal outfit to root out the tiniest of imperfections, that has your stomach tied up in knots. 

The wreath atop your head is thick with summer blooms, their scent potent and almost sickly sweet, tickling the inside of your nose. You’d sneeze if not for the veil covering your face, attached to a headband beneath the tangled greenery, its deep yellow color identical to the slippers donning your feet. 

You’d personally woven your tunic on your family’s loom, a task expected of every new bride, intertwining every fiber into tangible proof to show your husband you were ready for the responsibilities of managing his household. Linen had been your initial choice, but your mother insisted wool was the better material to repel the forces of evil. The garment is heavy beneath your matching white stola, but rather than irritating there’s something oddly comforting about the weight. Almost like a warm embrace.

It’s tradition for weddings to take place in the home of the bride’s father. You can hear the arrival of guests now outside your room. Friends and relatives and other miscellaneous people here to witness and celebrate the union. Every minute brings you closer to a new stage of your life, and if not for the servants’ steadying hands, your weak knees might send you crashing to the floor. Fainting would surely be interpreted as a bad omen, derailing the whole ceremony before it even truly began.

You suck in a quiet breath, shoving down the worst of your anxieties. This day–your wedding–has been on your mind practically your whole life. You’d learned from a young age the importance of marriages arranged between families for political and financial purposes. You’d also learned you wouldn’t be the one choosing your future husband, that decision would be made by your father alone. 

Of course, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t imagine marrying someone who was your own choice. Someone kind and handsome and as loyal as your household’s guard dogs. Someone who loved you above all others.

But waiting for you out there isn’t the imaginary stranger who's starred in your most intimate dreams. Waiting out there is General Marcus Acacius. A real man of flesh and blood, strength and power. The legendary Atlas Lion himself.

Your husband-to-be.

When the pronuba arrives to accompany you to the ceremony, the servants disperse but your mother lingers a beat longer, running her fingers over your shoulders to smoothen out non-existent creases. Neither of you mention the shiny gleam of her eyes or the trembling of your hands. 

Then, with a firm nod of her head, your mother declares, “She’s ready,” and leaves without another look to join your father’s side.

Your mother is not prone to lying. If she says you’re ready, then ready you must be.

You take another deep breath before linking your arm through the elder matron’s, but it’s the gentle patting of her hand on yours which calms you most. A reassurance of good things to come.

Stepping out into the atrium, you’re met with a packed crowd, locals and soldiers mixed as one, craning their necks for a glimpse of you. Their clothes resemble yours and the groom’s, another tactic to confuse evil spirits, but human eyes only need to spot your yellow veil to recognize you as the bride. And as for Acacius…

Well. To mistake the Atlas Lion for another would be as foolish as mistaking fire for water. He is unique in all the world.

You see him standing at the altar with the high priest, clad in a purple toga embroidered with a lion’s head in golden thread. A reward in honor of the general’s triumphs in warfare. The placement of the lion above his heart is deliberate, you suspect. A warning of what lies beneath the surface. A guarantee all the tales of his savagery and blood lust passed from mouth to mouth from the battlefields to the city streets are true.

Is it terrible that a part of you–an inane, minuscule scrap of a thing you’ll never verbally acknowledge, not even under oath–is fervently captivated by the notion? You should be listening to the high priest’s prayers to Juno, paying attention to the omens he reads in the entrails of the sacrificed ram upon the altar. But Acacius’ brown eyes, burning with the radiant June sunshine and something else distinctly dangerous, put a flame to your focus and narrow your vision to one central, all-encompassing point.

Is it terrible that you can meet a lion’s stare without a modicum of fear? You wonder how many have been able to say the same, if anyone else at all.

The priest deems the relationship blessed by the gods, carrying on with the proceedings, oblivious to your state of mind. He asks Acacius to make certain his intentions, if you are an acceptable wife. 

Acacius draws himself up to full height, an immovable mountain firm in his convictions. “She is mine to me,” the timbre of his gravelly voice drags over you, eliciting a shudder down your spine you pray the elder matron does not notice. “I will want no other.” 

Then it is your turn, and your voice is only a little hoarse when you confirm, “He will be my husband. My only choice.”

The slightest quirk of a smile curls the corner of Acacius’ lips. Instinctively, you return it with a small grin of your own. And even though he can’t physically see your face behind the veil, you think, somehow, he does see you.

It’s only after signing the marriage contract with crimson seals that the pronuba places your right hand in Acacius’, officially uniting you as one. The general’s palm is callused, fingers thick and gnarled from past wounds, but you can’t find it in yourself to hate them, or recoil, or do anything else than keep holding on.

“Raise the veil,” the priest says.

You swallow, the fingers of your left hand spasming against your side, then slowly reach for a fistful of the yellow fabric. Pulling it up over your head, you carefully watch the lines of Acacius’ expression, heartbeat fluttering at the way those brown eyes widen, taking you in for the first time. Absorbing everything like it might be his only chance. Like you’re something wondrous worth memorizing.

Acacius starts leaning forward, sending every last thought in your head scattering with his nearness. He’s massive, radiating such intense warmth, thumb stroking a line of heat along your wrist. There’s a fire igniting in your chest, lungs choking on the smoke, yet you’re trembling when he cups your face, the quietest of whines escaping your parted lips.

Please, you start to beg, the whooshing of blood thundering in your eardrums, plea–

Acacius swallows the silent plea with his own mouth, kissing you like a starving man. This isn’t love–no, it’s too soon for such sentiment–this is carnal passion, roaming tongues and clashing teeth like you’re no better than animals committed to the hunt of this new territory, this new taste. 

The eruption of applause yanks you back to reality. You tear yourself away with a choked gasp, and it’s satisfying seeing the heave of Acacius’ broad chest with each ragged inhale as you both struggle to catch your breaths. You did that. You’re the reason for the flare of lust in his eyes and smear of spit across his bottom lip. 

You’ve heard people say no man’s looks can compete with Adonis’ striking beauty. A fallacy, you realize in that moment upon seeing General Marcus Acacius in purple and gold, dark curls caressed by the gentle breeze, a constellation of freckles along the tendons of his neck, hardened by violence yet holding your hand so heartachingly sweet.

The rest of the world can have Adonis. 

And as for you–boldly and selfishly, you’ll keep this man. The legendary Atlas Lion himself.

Your husband.

~~

The wedding feast afterwards is a blur of lavish food and wine, the jovial notes of flutes accompanying fescennine songs with interjections of salutations shouted from inebriated lips. Every touch of Acacius’ hand against your arm, your waist, everywhere sends sparks skittering along your nerves. It’s as bewildering as it is thrilling, like you’re balancing on the edge of a precipice, and you wonder if this is what Icarus felt moments before he flew too close to the sun. Falling, falling, falling…

You can only hope you meet a different, kinder fate.

When the sky begins to change and darken with the promise of encroaching evening time, you find yourself standing in the middle of your childhood home, trying to etch into memory everything from the slope of the roof to the tiny cracks in the stone floor. All the noises and voices seem to fade away, granting you this moment to yourself.

Once you step outside, there will be no familiarity to cling to. You’ll be escorted by the crowd of guests to Acacius’ secondary home—smaller, but no less grand than his main domus in Cosa. A port city to the south you’ll have to learn to navigate from square one—and then, once alone with the general, taken to his bed. His body will be another, far more intricate labyrinth you’ll need to learn and recognize the details of.

A new city, a new spouse, a new chapter of life with new expectations…

It’s overwhelming to say the least.

Your eyes cut to Acacius across the room, widening when you catch him already watching you. Something in your chest aches upon realizing you don’t know him well enough to read his face. If he’s angry, pleased, or just totally indifferent. But you can’t look away. Caught and cornered.

Like prey, you think, loathing the thought as soon as it forms. A lion cannot have a mouse for a wife. Imagine the shame of being an unworthy partner of one of Rome’s highest-ranking generals. Your name dragged through the mud, an embarrassment to your family and a blight on Acacius’ esteemed reputation—to say nothing of how the gods would react to your ruining of a blessed union. You’d be as insignificant as the fleas on a dog’s pelt in their eyes.

You must be stronger. Braver. Better.

Where Icarus fell, you must fly. 

Maybe Acacius senses this change stirring within you, or maybe he grows impatient with this lengthy staring contest, either way he suddenly draws closer, weaving between bodies until he comes to a stop in front of you. Purposefully within grabbing reach. The ache in your chest lessens at that, replaced by a spike of adrenaline as awareness dawns.

“Is it time to leave?” you ask.

“It is,” he answers. Then, quick as lightning and just as unexpected, he pinches your waist. 

You jerk away at the teasing touch, gaping like a fish. “Do you touch all women in that manner?”

“No.” A smug smirk spreads across his handsome face. Relishing his next words. “Only the woman who belongs to me.”

Possessive brute. Your eyes narrow even as heat envelops your body, toes curling in your shoes. 

“You haven’t taken me yet. My body has no claim.”

Acacius’ jaw clenches at that. Like he’s holding onto his restraint by a mere thread. It’s practically tangible, a siren song tempting you to flex your claws.

“Answer me this, general, because it remains unclear to me.” Tilting your head, exposing the column of your neck for his hungry gaze to feast upon, your tone is deliberately provoking. “Are you a passionate man of action? Or merely a man of empty words?”

“Bite your tongue,” his tone is low, closer to a snarl than actual speech. You almost believe he’s angry, if not for the glint in his brown eyes, aroused and impressed by your antics in equal measure.

“I’d rather you bite it.”

The fragile thread snaps.

Acacius is on you at once, his large hands seizing hold of your arms. You wrestle against his grip, delivering a solid kick to his shin that draws an irritated hiss. He puts up with your struggling for a bit longer, unaffected by your inexpert blows to his torso, then ends it with a harsh tug, pulling you flush against his brick wall of a body. He sticks his face in your neck, breath hot and ticklish, mouthing at your thrumming pulse with blunt teeth. Oh gods. You slump against him, letting his thick muscles take the brunt of your weight, mind sinking like a stone in the overflowing well of new and overwhelming sensations. Desperate for more, more, more.

The deep rumbling of his chuckling vibrates through your bones, and you have the deliriously greedy thought of cutting out a piece of yourself to store the sound there. 

“You’ve caused quite a scene,” he murmurs into the underside of your jaw, sounding just as wrecked as you feel. But beneath the raspiness, you detect the unmistakable lilt of amusement. 

“It’s tradition,” you breathe, conscious of the numerous stares watching your every move, including your mother’s. Your pretending of resistance must have been satisfactory enough for her to not intervene.

Acacius leans back just enough to look at you, cradling you in the cage of his arms and chest. You place your hands upon his waist, absently clutching the purple-dyed wool between your fingers.

“Tell me how to call you.” It’s not a request.

“What?” Yet another tradition to appease household gods is meant to happen later after you had arrived at the threshold of Acacius’ home and smeared the doorway in oil and fat. He would ask you your name, to which you answer, taking your husband’s and modifying it: where you are Marcus, I am Marcia. And at last, excluding the event of a bad omen occurring, he would carry you inside. Your brow furrows, not understanding why he’s changing the order of things. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Not the name tradition wants, nor the one your parents and the gods assigned you,” he interrupts. “Tell me how I will call you when we’re alone.” 

Oh.

You bow your head to hide your smile, pleased to have a choice. Your eyes fall upon the golden lion head.

Oh.

“Where and when you are Leo,” you tell him, trailing a finger along the perfectly stitched mane before tapping the spot where his heart resides. “There and then I am Leaena.”

~~

{His bride is too innocent, too unaware of the ruthless nature of the Empire’s politics to endure what is expected of her as a general’s wife. This marriage should never have been blessed by the gods.

Still, Acacius can’t stop his gaze from following her every movement, intrigued to know the thoughts running through her head. Can’t stop himself from touching her either, drawn to her warmth, the rightness of her body in his hold. The ceremony was mere hours ago, yet seeing her in his bed, flesh bare and soft and trembling beneath him, the woman has already become the most important treasure of his life. His to worship and protect for the rest of his days.

“Gods, you really are massive all over,” she blurts out, seemingly without thinking, feeling the press of his hard cock against her. Then immediately averts her eyes with a nervous giggle, insecure of her own inexperience. “Could–could we take it slow?”

“That’s fine, my leaena,” he assures her, kissing the corner of her mouth, addicted to her taste dangerously fast. She won’t last, he thinks, scraping his teeth along her neck. They’ll swallow her whole. “I’ll make you feel good. I’ll take care of you.” And he sees it, the exact moment the apprehension slips aside and trust rises to take its place in those big, expressive eyes. She wants this—wants him.

It’s an impulsive, raw need that has him leaning down to kiss her, licking deep into her mouth, craving something he doesn’t know the name of. Repentance, maybe, for the hell coming her way in the coming months. Or maybe he’s just a selfish man who wants this, wants her, more than he deserves. 

She rips him out of his thoughts by grabbing fistfulls of his curls, tugging until they’re even closer pressed together, opening up for him impossibly wider. 

Maybe he’s wrong in his initial assumptions of his bride.

Maybe she’ll be the one to take care of him.}

~~

Cosa matters a great deal to the Empire. A strategically defendable port with close connections to sources of timber and other supplies necessary for maintaining a vast army of fleets. The city itself was built upon a hill, high enough that on a clear day one could see miles of the Tyrrhenian Sea’s coastline. The crashes of the blue-green waves against the limestone cliffs.

Accompanying Acacius into the forum provides you with opportunities to observe the city’s layout. Enclosed within an imposing circuit of walls, the community has put careful thought into every corner of limited space, separating private houses from the sacred temples and civic buildings. Necessary architecture only, no spare room for the entertainment of a theatre. 

Cosa is significantly smaller than the size of your birthplace, drenched in the scents of sea salt and fish, yet there are elements of opulence if one looks close enough. Pearl necklaces adorning necks and solid gold bracelets fastened around wrists. Chairs carved from precious woods, embellished with touches of silver or bronze. Acacius’ curule seat in his tablinum is made out of pure ivory, its legs resembling a lion’s paws. A gift from the Senate after a successful military campaign.

The majority of Acacius’ hours in the public square is split between the basilica, the curia, and the comitium speaking with the aediles and magistrates. Offices of elected officials which exclude women from entry–not that you have much interest in politics anyways. 

The marketplace quickly becomes your favorite place outside of your domus. A variety of stalls clustered together bustling with activity. Haggling becomes second nature to you, and when you can’t get the price you want you make trades with your weavings. 

Still. Cosa is a small enough city where you’re easily recognized as someone new by the locals. More than once you’ve experienced lingering glances, examining everything from your clothes to your hair. More than once those eyes have made your shoulder blades curl with the instinct to somehow fold into yourself like the little crabs that occasionally wash up on the sandy coastline.

A week after settling in, a man in the bathhouse grabs at your palla before you can enter the women’s section, pulling harsh enough to send your mother’s brooch clattering to the ground. You press a hand over your pounding heart, scrambling backwards a few steps, all too aware of the heavy veil of silence that has fallen over the room. 

Acacius calmly appears at your side, soundless in his approach, filling the whole place with his commanding presence. 

A blink. That’s all it takes.

One blink and suddenly the man’s blood spatters the stucco wall as Acacius slams his skull against it repeatedly until he no longer resembles anything human. Just a gruesome muddle of scarlet and bone, life thread severed by the jaws of death. 

Acacius releases his hold, then points a bloodstained finger at you. “She is mine. Anyone who touches her will face my retribution. And I won’t hesitate to add another soul to Dis Pater’s realm.”

~~

Living under the roof of your parents, you’d thought of home as a physical structure. A place to stay in a world full of constantly moving parts. 

Marriage has taught you home is so much more. It’s the soft notes you hum as you spin and weave wool. A kiss pressed to your temple as Acacius moves past. The scent of fresh citrus each morning for breakfast and the sweet taste of fine wines. Plans to visit the coast. A bowl of seashells. Gazing up at constellations when the moon is high. Feelings bubbling up, spilling out, casting shadows on the walls and slipping beneath the bed sheets. It’s the warmth of another body, touching, feeling, familiarizing, until two halves become an inseverable one whole.

Home is learning to be loved and to be in love. 

~~

Acacius doesn’t receive many guests in his tablinum, preferring to settle his business affairs in the public offices, yet he still keeps a cushioned stool in front of his desk. You sit there, elbow propped on his desk and chin resting upon your fist, watching your husband search through his shelf of scrolls. The mosaic floors have been recently cleaned, colors popping vividly in the patches of sunlight sneaking in, and the painted scenes of nature adorning the walls are masterfully done, but you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere else except him.

“Where did your name come from?” you ask, breaking up the quiet.

Acacius pauses, glancing back with a raised eyebrow. “It was my father’s name. And his father’s name. And his father’s father’s name and–”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Your scolding is softened by the smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. Acacius keeps looking at you, smirking like he finds the whole thing amusing. “The Atlas Lion. A moniker as frightful as that, it must have an origin.”

He chuckles that deep, rumbling laugh of his. “Wondered when you’d finally ask.”

His tone is light, still smirking, but you see through the cracks of the facade. See the hesitation in the lowering of his eyes to the floor, see the slight furrow in his brow that only appears when he’s worried he’s upset you. He’s nervous—it’s so obvious and so dearly human that it aches. It looks absolutely wrong on the face of a man known throughout the Empire for his larger-than-life confidence.

You watch him warily, unsure what to do, what to say beyond his name. “Acacius.”

Your husband faces the scrolls again, and for a moment you’re afraid the fragile moment’s broken, but then he tells you the story behind his name. ‘Story’ is too soft a word though. Stories are for parties and entertainment, full of humor and unfolding drama and moral lessons. Acacius doesn’t tell you a story. No, he tells you his truth. 

Acacius doesn’t mince words, describing the hellish months of military training in grueling detail. He tells you, in an almost detached manner, how he’d been a different man back then. Scrawnier, unused to bloodshed, restless, but above all else, near feral with the need to prove his own worth. 

“It was General Meridius’ idea for soldiers to train as bestiarii.” There’s something about the way he says the name—full of respect. Admiration for a superior. But you think you detect a note of something else laced within the syllables too. Something almost…sad sounding. Grieving, perhaps. It’s gone in the next breath. “Face to face with wild beasts, you either become an expert with your weapon fast or you die an unglorified death in the arena.”

For all the nights you’ve traced meaningless patterns along the large scars gouged into Acacius’ shoulders, you didn’t ask about them. Assumed they were the result of a too-close enemy with a too-sharp weapon. A blade or spear, something man-made. Never occurred to you to think of fangs and claws as weapons too.

Blinking sharply, you sit up straighter, stuttering, “W-wait, are you…is that where…” There’s a swarm of questions buzzing in your head, stinging the back of your throat when you try to voice them. Finally, you manage to choke out, “So, that’s how you got your name? You actually fought lions?”

Acacius finally turns around at that, only to surprise you by shaking his head. “I did fight lions—and bears, boars, even a pair of hyenas once. But that’s not why they call me the Atlas Lion.”

He trails off, tension in the wrinkled lines of his expression your hands itch to smoothen out. You hesitate to rise from your seat, unable to tell if drawing closer would lighten your husband’s mood or worsen it. Moments like this–where he’s loosened the reins of his tightly controlled emotions, offering a glimpse of an ordinary, flesh and blood mortal man who’s been chewed up and spit out a dozen times over– are few and far between. Delicate like fine glass, requiring just the right handling.

“To prove I was ready for the army, I had to pass a test,” he explains. “I fought everything that attacked me. I stopped thinking, stopped feeling. Nothing mattered except the next stab of my gladius. And when they started throwing men into the arena, I didn’t even notice.” Acacius exhales a ragged breath. “I stopped seeing people as people.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, voice barely above a murmur. 

There’s another pause, time seeming to slow down, seconds stretching lazily like a plump housecat, and then Acacius crosses the distance, close enough your knees graze each other, head tilted back to peer up at him. He says nothing, even as his thumb brushes over your chapped lips.

“Acacius.” Your body trembles, edges of your vision starting to blur. You lean into his touch. The center of your universe.

“I mean,” Acacius says, eyes on your mouth. Your lips part unthinkingly, letting his thumb slip inside, pressing lightly against your bottom teeth. “We’re all just animals, my leaena. Red tongues and hands.”

~~

The air is cool this time of night, seems to press against your skin like a damp washcloth. Cleansing you from the inside out with each deep inhale. 

Acacius stands in the courtyard, bronze skin painted in streaks of moonbeams and starlight, hair tousled by fitful hands. His absence from bed had stirred you awake, and a part of you wonders if these midnight musings are a regular occurrence you’ve only just now become aware of. Not all dreams are sweet after all, especially for soldiers. 

“A nightmare?” you ask, a hushed inquiry disrupting the still of night.

“A memory,” is all he offers. 

“Oh.” 

He hasn’t looked at you yet, brown eyes boring holes into the distant moon. Maybe you should return to bed, give him space and privacy to sort himself out. But your bare feet stick to the floor and you can’t pull your eyes away. Noting the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of his hands, the rising and falling of his chest with each breath.

You try to ignore the disappointment gnawing at your heart, hurt that Acacius won’t share his internal burden with you, even in the cover of darkness where it’s just you and him. 

He’s revealed the truth of his name with you. Encouraged you to lick and bite and mark every inch of his flesh as your own. But tonight he’s put up a wall you can’t climb over. 

Maybe that’s why you stay. You’re a glutton for punishment.

Somewhere else in the city, a dog begins to bark. It’s a harsh sound, all teeth, defending its territory from a threat, and you flinch despite the distance. Unsurprisingly, Acacius doesn’t so much as even twitch. 

What is surprising though, is that he chooses then to finally speak.

“There are victories yet still to come,” he mutters, a tremor to his voice you’ve never heard before, like he’s standing on unsteady ground. And there’s this look in his eyes that unsettles you, haunted by something only he can see. “That’s what they always say.”

They?

Stepping closer, you gently bump your hand against his. A knot unravels in your chest when he blinks back to himself, pinky hooking onto yours. A tether securing him home with you.

“Who says that?”

“The Emperors.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Don’t know what words will build his wall higher or what ones will knock it down–if that’s even possible. 

“What are they like?” Your mouth makes the choice for you. “Geta and Caracalla?”

You’ve never been to Rome, never seen the ruling brothers in person. All you really know about them are the stories and rumors from the mouths of travelers gossiping in the marketplace. Sometimes nice things are said, sometimes…not so nice things. 

“They’re…” Dark brows draw together, mouth pulling downward in a frown. Acacius finally looks at you, the brown of his eyes lost in the dark, but not the sharp glint of fear. Tumultuous and excruciating, you feel it cut deep. “They’re fire and water. Two opposing forces unfit to inhabit the same space. It’s only a matter of time before one prevails over the other.”

You swallow, nervousness swelling in the pit of your stomach at the flat, doomed sound of certainty he speaks with. “And then what happens?”

“The Empire will either burn or drown." 

“And us?” you ask tentatively. “What will happen to us?”

Acacius doesn’t have an answer.

~~

A Roman naval ship is spotted just as dawn breaks, drawing a sizable crowd by the time it docks in the harbor. There’s a sense of wrongness associated with the lack of an official fleet, and that unsettling feeling is multiplied tenfold when it’s announced there are numerous injured soldiers aboard.

Acacius attends to them, ensuring each gets medical attention while also gathering information from the head officer in charge. You stand at the back of the crowd, heart in your throat, seeing but not truly processing. Blood, so much red. Expressions of young men scrunched in pain. The grim, motionless bodies of those who didn’t last the final hours of the journey.

“Steel yourself.” A feminine voice warns, and you turn with a blink of surprise upon seeing the high priestess at your side, unused to encountering her outside her temple walls. The sea breeze ruffles the red and white ribbons in her braided hair as she holds your gaze, calm in an almost preternatural way compared to the surrounding commotion. “You are a general’s wife. To express your fear in public is to express doubt of the Empire’s dominance and your husband’s own prowess.”

Her words sink like a stone in your stomach. “I’ll be better,” you promise, the acidic taste of shame burning the back of your throat.

“Stronger,” she corrects, fierce blue eyes rivaling an ocean storm. “You must be stronger than your greatest fear.”

You can only nod, imagining one of the corpses wearing your husband’s face. 

~~

{With every inch of territory the Empire gains, its list of bitter enemies grows exponentially longer. Not every threat rising up in defiance stems from foreign soil though, Acacius was forced to learn that the hard way. He’s seen the effects Rome’s constant warfare and rotting politics have had on its subjects, witnessed people turn against their masters’ hands like rabid dogs hell-bent on stripping flesh from bone.

Rebels are dealt with just like rabid dogs, too. Caught and decapitated in a public spectacle. Crimson rivulets flow from their remains, discoloring the city’s streets reminiscent of a spilled wine stain, seeping into the very foundation itself. 

Then come the speeches in the comitium from Cosa’s magistrates. Addressing the huddled masses with sickly sweet, empty promises of better times to come. Lying through their teeth, scared the next outburst of internal strife will end with their own severed heads tossed into the sea.

Acacius’ attendance is mandatory, yet he only pretends to listen while standing on the stone steps behind the speakers. His wife’s shoulder presses against his, their hands firmly locked together, unbothered by the harsh ridges of his battle-hardened palm grazing against her smooth skin. A simple comfort he’d long believed himself unworthy of ever indulging in.

“It tears you up inside, doesn’t it?” His wife’s voice is just a faint murmur, so quiet there isn’t a chance anyone else hears her, but the knowing note in it has his chest tightening with a stiff exhale. “Like a thorn in your soul. Even from Rome, Geta and Caracalla control your tongue.”

“There is a time for a general to speak his mind and there is a time for him to keep his head,” he reminds her frankly, careful to maintain his facade of blank detachment. “It’d do you good to remember your place.”

Her sharp inhale is torturous to his ears. She reacts to his blunt discipline like a physical blow, shoulders sagging, lips pressed together in a thin line, practically rolling over and exposing her vulnerable underbelly. Acacius hates that look. Hates even more he’s the cause of it. He thinks impaling himself with his own blade would hurt less. 

Nudging her shoulder drags her gaze reluctantly back to him. And this is not the appropriate setting for levity, Acacius should bite back the smile curling at the corners of his mouth—but for his wife, his divine leaena, he’s a sinner on his knees desperate to be in the warmth of her good graces again. “You are fond of this general’s face, yes?”

It’s not the offering this goddess deserves, but it’s enough to begin mending what he’d torn, soothing the worst of the sting. She smiles, an amused, uneven little twist of her mouth she once confessed being insecure about before he kissed away all worries from her mind. There’s something undeniably perfect about it, like the first rays of sunlight after a bleak winter. 

“Of course I am. But…” She bites her lip, caught on something. He squeezes her hand, and it seems to be the needed boost to force the words out from the cage in her throat. “Even the Atlas Lion must want to roar sometimes.”

Acacius should be annoyed with her ability to read him–it’s a weakness, and any weakness in his personal experience is a promise of death’s swift arrival. It isn’t safe, for either of them. But she’s done the unthinkable, worming her way into his ugly, greedy heart, treating it like something tender, something lovable. And it was too damn easy how quickly she filled up every vacant space in his head. From the moment she lifted her veil he’s been enraptured by her essence. Starving for every scrap of attention she’s willing to give. His wife has become a critical piece of his life, as vitally essential as the breath in his lungs and the sword hanging at his hip.

It’s dangerous, what she’s done to him.

But it’s far, far more dangerous, what he’d do for her.

Her eyes widen with surprise when he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, but he feels the way she relaxes against him with easy acceptance. Believing she’s safe with him, ignorant of the threats closing in on all sides. Every day drawing nearer and nearer still. 

That will have to change, he swears to himself. Her survival depends upon it.

“Yes,” he says at last, and it’s the most honest he’s been with himself in years. “Sometimes he does.”}

~~

Acacius places one hand on your shoulder, the other settles on your hip. There is nothing delicate about his touch, no hesitation about maneuvering your body into a proper defensive stance. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees bent, pugio held in a strong grasp.

“Lower your arm, always aim the blade at your opponent,” Acacius instructs, slipping into his alternate persona as a leader on the battlefield like a second skin, his critical eyes zeroing in on all the mistakes that will get you killed in a moment of danger. “When you hold that dagger, you must hold it with the intent to spill blood, my leaena. Words alone aren’t enough to protect you.”

You swallow, fingers flexing around the hilt. It’s a daunting experience, learning to sever someone’s life thread from an expert on the subject. You’re grateful for the privacy of your domus’ courtyard, concealing your clumsy movements from outsiders who’d undoubtedly laugh at each ungraceful slash and lunge. You resemble a fool, sweaty and fledgling, undeserving of your husband’s calling. The only women you’d seen fight with weapons were gladiatrices at festivals, an exotic and unusual form of entertainment which never failed to attract large crowds. Your mother claimed they brought shame upon womankind, yet when Acacius had asked you to learn, you’d accepted without delay.

She’d disown you immediately if she could see you now. The thought has your stomach churning, a sour taste on the back of your tongue.

“We’re wasting time,” you say, voice hoarse. “I’ll never be strong enough to pose a threat to anyone.”

Acacius clicks his tongue at you. “Never say never, my leaena. You’ll tempt the Fates.”

The courtyard is quiet besides your breathing, and the streets beyond the domus’ walls are empty this time of day. You’re keenly aware of Acacius’ nearness, the slight frown pulling at his lips, like he’s trying to understand your thoughts, and you want to fight him. Howl and claw and lash out like the beast he seeks to bring to light from your depths. But there is nothing there. 

“I’m not like you. I can’t be.” His head tilts, still uncomprehending. You gesture at him with your empty hand, the rippling muscles straining the fabric of his sleeveless tunic. “The Atlas Lion. Devourer of the Emperors’ enemies. Ferocity unmatched amongst Rome’s army of warriors.” You then gesture at yourself, forcing the ugly words past your teeth if only so he’ll give up this futile endeavor. “I’m just me.”

The air shifts between you and him, a thick, cloying tension weighing heavily upon your shoulders. It’s only the knowledge that there’s nowhere in all of Cosa you could hide from your husband that keeps you anchored in place even as your heartbeat gallops away. Acacius’ brown eyes darken, thunder clouds blocking out the sun.

And then his callused hands are on your face, palms rough along the underside of your jaw, fingers pressing into the skin, squeezing. Claiming. An inescapable hold. 

“Do not,” he starts, voice low and gravelly, a snarling darkness you’ve never heard before and never want to again, “ever speak so poorly of yourself again. How can you think of yourself as anything less than magnificent? How can you not know of the power you wield over me? You’ve made me live again. My heart, long cold and numbed by the trials of war, beats again only for you. There is nothing more valuable to me than your wellbeing–not wealth nor fame, nothing. Is it clear to you yet? You have tamed the Atlas Lion body and soul. This general heeds your every call.”

You shudder, dazed and captivated by his close proximity, his devotion. Intoxicated, that’s what you feel. So caught up in a fog of mindless pleasure you fail to notice him guiding your hand up, up, up until the pugio’s blade is put to his throat. 

“All that I am is yours,” Acacius says, hushed now, a secret between lovers. The dagger pierces skin, a thin trickle of blood oozing. You flinch, eyes widening, but his hold remains firm. “Which makes you the most dangerous creature of all. And for that reason, my leaena, you will and you must learn to fight.”

He shoves you backwards a step. It’s not his full strength, more surprising than hurtful, but something inside you uncoils, teeth gnashing. A feeling sparks in your bloodstream, erupting into a wildfire at the look of pride in Acacius’ eye when you reflexively point your pugio at his heart. 

You swipe at him, again and again, driven by this new source of power. And through it all he holds your gaze, the brown of his eyes as sharp as the blade in your hand. Neither one says I love you, I’d take a bite out of the world for you but neither one needs to. 

Actions have always been louder than words.

~~

“Do you ever think about what’s out there?” you ask one night in bed together. Acacius reclines against the headboard, staring at you through half-lidded eyes as you drag your fingertips over his bare, scarred skin in meaningless patterns. 

Would anyone believe this man was the Atlas Lion? A wild, virulent beast compliant and disarmed beneath the gentle stroke of your touch? 

No. You think not.

“Out where?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, thumb catching on a particularly rough patch of damaged skin left of his hip bone. Every battle he fought, every combatant he faced—Mars laid fresh claims to his body with each fresh cicatrix.  

Claims you challenge the only way you know how. Scrapes of your nails breaking skin and tender presses of your mouth licking up the crimson pearls of blood.

“Beyond the Empire’s borders. Somewhere without war.”

Acacius’ brow creases, gaze alert now, looking at you as if you’ve spoken a different language. “Without war…” he repeats slowly. “My leaena, there is no place such as that. Discordia’s reach is far, farther than the Emperors could ever conquer in their combined lifetimes, stirring up strife deep in the hearts of even the mildest of men, and it will always find an outlet one way or another.”

“Oh.” You clear your throat. It’s not the response you had hoped for, but it’s the one you should have expected. Acacius isn’t the type of man to indulge in far-fetched fantasies of softer living. Can’t be, not with all the horrors he’s witnessed and played a part in crafting. 

“But,” Acacius pauses, and his hand covers yours. Not holding or moving it, just staying there. Feeling. “If somewhere without war did exist…” he smiles, a soft and little thing reserved just for these quiet moments. “I’d do whatever it took to get us there.”

~~

The wool for your new palla has been carded and spun into yarn. It stretches and winds around the teeth of your wooden loom, weighed down by terracotta scales. 

You’re alone in the domus. Acacius had been summoned by the magistrates for an urgent meeting, and you try not to let fear interfere with your work, an aggressive wasp buzzing at the back of your mind. Your touch remains light when pulling at uneven sections, its intended shape coming together bit by bit. The whooshing of a racing heartbeat echoes in your ears.

So long as there is land outside the Empire’s borders, the Emperors will expect Acacius to conquer it in their names. His time in Cosa is trapped in an hourglass, never quite knowing when the last grain of sand will slip away, summoned back to the front lines for another campaign. Another brush with death. Another chapter added to his legacy.  

You feel the sand’s effects sometimes, a sinking sensation threatening to drag you down when you walk with him through the market. Coarse and gritty, scratching your skin as you fall asleep in his arms. Piling so high it chokes you, the cursed inevitability of it all.

Another loop of wool around teeth. Tension taut and held firm. The muscles of your arms burn with effort, left foot tingling uncomfortably from sitting too long with little movement. Cosa’s awake and thriving in the warm weather, echoes of voices drifting in with the breeze, but you’ve never felt more alone. A feeling you dread becoming intimately familiar with sooner or later.

Later, you pray selfishly, desperately, achingly to the Fates. Make it later. 

So long as Acacius breathes he will always walk two paths—the path of a general and the path of a husband. And it’s a priority of yours–a requirement as his wife–to find a way to be okay when those paths split and you’re truly left all alone. You must then nurture the tiniest flame of hope one step, one trial, one lonely night at a time. Burning fiercely until every last shadow of doubt is purged from your mind, and the only thing that remains is the steadfast belief he’ll return to your side.

Then you must prepare yourself to do it all over again and again and again…too incapable of challenging the Emperors’ insatiable greed, too mortal to stop the sands of time.

You roll your shoulders once finished, scrutinizing the piece for errors. Later you’ll detach the palla from the loom to cut and tie off the loose end-threads of dangling wool, and later still you’ll take it to the fuller to be washed then to the dyer to be colored. You wonder if Acacius will like the shade of golden yellow you have in mind. If he’ll even be in Cosa to see the finished product or a thousand miles away in the heat of battle. A tremor racks your spine at the thought.

But then the front door opens with a quiet groan, and the cheerfully hummed notes of Acacius’ favorite song float through the house. You smile, heartbeat settling into its natural rhythm with the knowledge he’s here with you. The war has not stolen him away just yet.

“Come, my leaena,” he calls out, and you can hear the grin in his voice without having to see it. “It’s a beautiful day. Should we spend it by the coast?”

There’s an urge to close your eyes, to sink into this moment for all its worth, but sand is rising around your ankles. A reminder of all temporary things. 

Your legs can’t move fast enough, drawn to your husband’s side. 

Just a little bit longer. Another hour, another day. 

You reach for Acacius’ hand, tangling them together, pulling him closer. Always closer.

Another call of my name.

“Let’s not waste a single second.”

[ratatattouille]

"but caitlyn was grieving and she regretted it the whole time!"

i wouldn't have had a problem with cait if she shot isha point-blank. i was all for her villain arc, actually. i was fucking EXCITED when she put her fist to her chest while overlooking the whole city. my problem is how unrealistic the reactions of other characters to her was and how clumsily the writers handled her development (and also the government/war set-up). and what that MEANS when it comes to how the writers view political struggle. i am insulted at how the writers used cait and vi to talk about politics.

"so you wanted another cheap rebellion story?"

i'll admit it, i'm always horny for some hunger games-type action, i love liberation stories esp bc they're so rare (esp when they're properly done), but if zaun and piltover had crumbled and everyone had lost or died, i'd have been okay with it (except for ekko tbh). my problem is the focus is not on zaun and piltover. that s2 scapegoats what s1 was discussing in such an infantile way. s2 quite frankly does not know what it's talking about. either narratively or philosophically.

"you wouldn't say this for jayvik"

the holy trinity of arcane ships all sucked ass this season :) and i say this as someone who shipped all three from the BEGINNING. why? because romance was never central to the show (generational trauma, familial love and classism were) and s2 was just obvious fan service a quarter of the time. how can y'all say you love these characters/story and not care when they're butchered so egregiously for the sake of pretty pinterest gifs and quotes?? do you only care about them when their backstories make their ships more romantic? did you interact or bond with them outside of your ship? did you actually like them as characters? like i swear half of the anti arcane criticism posts all analyze these characters EXCLUSIVELY through their ships instead of anything else and it's pathetic lmao

i mean it's no crime either way. like they aren't real at the end of the day and you can do whatever you want. i'm not even really against fan service on principle.

but real viktor, jinx, vi, ekko, silco, sevika, jayce, mel, ambessa stans KNOW that s2 was some bs.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Narrative Arc

Narrative arc - also called a “story arc,” a “dramatic arc,” or just an “arc”.

It is a literary term for the path a story follows.

It provides a backbone by providing a clear beginning, middle, and end of the story.

Freytag's Pyramid

The concept of narrative arc as we know it today was created by Gustav Freytag, a German novelist and playwright who closely analyzed ancient Greek writing, along with William Shakespeare’s five-act plays.

As the term suggests, when plotted on paper, a typical narrative arc forms the shape of a hill or pyramid.

5 Classic Elements of a Narrative Arc

A traditional narrative arc has five elements, in the following order:

Exposition. This is the reader’s introduction to the story. The exposition offers background information to prime the audience for the rest of the story, including introducing the main character(s) (the “who”), setting (the “where”), and circumstances or time period (the “when”).

Rising action. This is when conflict begins to ramp up. The rising action usually begins with what’s called an “inciting incident”—the triggering event that puts the main events of the story in motion. This is when the audience starts to see what your story is really about.

Climax. This is the highest point of tension in your storyline, and often the point at which all the different subplots and characters converge. Typically, the climax requires the main character to face the truth or make an important choice.

Falling action. This is what happens as a result of the protagonist’s decision. During the falling action, the conflict gives way to resolution. Loose ends are tied up, and tension begins to dissipate.

Resolution. Also known as a denouement, this is how your story ends. The resolution of a narrative arc isn’t always happy, but it does close the loop and show how the events of the story have changed the characters and the world around them.

Narrative Arc vs. Plot

Plot - the individual events that make up your story. In other words, the plot is what happens.

Narrative arc - the path or sequence of your plot, and how that series of events creates a flow and progression that keeps the reader engaged at each stage in the story.

Narrative Arc vs. Character Arc

If a narrative arc is the path of the overall story,

a character arc is the path a specific character takes during that story.

The story arc is external, and happens to all of the characters,

while a character arc is internal, and happens to one person.

A character arc usually involves a character overcoming an obstacle and changing the way they see the world.

When the narrative arc begins its descent down the pyramid into the falling action and resolution, the character arc has its moment to shine.

This is when a character experiences a turning point by asking for help, learning a new skill, making a critical choice, and/or becoming more self-aware.

Typically, only major characters have character arcs, though minor characters can undergo this type of character development as well.

Create a Narrative Arc in 4 Easy Steps

Here are some writing tips for building a narrative arc in your own writing:

Choose an archetypal narrative arc. Think about the story you want to tell. Is the main character overcoming an obstacle? Going on a quest? Experiencing a rebirth? You don’t have to follow any one example to the letter, but writing with an archetypal narrative arc in mind can be a huge help.

Identify your beginning, middle, and end. Who are the main characters? What are they doing? When are they doing it? Where are they doing it? Why are they doing it? And, most importantly: What is all of that building toward?

Plug your events into a narrative arc. Creating a visual diagram of your chosen narrative arc, then add the events of your story along that arc. Seeing a quick overview of your story on a page makes it easier to identify problems and fill any gaps. For instance, if you have a lot of events clustered in your “exposition” stage, you may want to cut some of them out or reimagine them as new developments in the rising action.

Adjust as needed. Of course, there’s no hard and fast rule that you have to stick to Freytag’s traditional narrative arc. Every story is different: some are heavier on exposition, while others draw out the rising action. Give yourself the freedom to be flexible and see where your unique story goes.

The next time you sit down to write, consider drawing up a quick narrative arc. It’s a useful tool that can help you stay on track if you’re ever unsure of what comes next in your story.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding ⚜ Exposition

[sovenusian]

Matured Energy of Each Sun Sign

(does not to relate to what age you are.)

A matured Aries is a master communicator and story teller, they can easily pull and hold the attention of the crowd on them, only this time it is to shine light on something beyond them, and it's usually the wisdom they have gathered on their spiritual journey of having the self as the center of their wants and needs.

A matured Taurus is the tamed bull. They become much more calm and understanding of ways of life and mindsets differing from their own, and don't feel the need to make known, how thorough their stances on their beliefs are. They loosen up a bit, like a Cane Corso allowing a rambunctious chihuahua to feign dominance.

A matured Gemini uses the seemingly fractured personality to create genius works and can masterfully connect with any age group or walk of life. They respect they are the embodiment of "I have an idea" but on drugs (lol) and live in that truth. They don't provide tolerance for what they do not like around them.

A matured Cancer stopped being petty and stops wading in the murky waters of emotional manipulation, and starts wielding these energies as gift, for others. You may not find a more generous, selfless, nurturing being. They have the strength to grow other people and bring what's dead back to life.

A matured Leo finally takes more pride in the impact of it's works, more than the ability to do them or be recognized for being the one to do them. They enjoy showing the character traits that truly make them beautiful. The humility they acquire despite having achieved a great deal of refinement, is what becomes what makes them shine at their brightest.

A matured Virgo learned to put themselves, their hearts truly first. Their dutiful and ambitious drives have taught them their accompanying lessons, which are to allow yourself to relax, you are enough, you really are so damn dope, and comparing your output to the logistics was a stressful way to live and that is, the past. It's a death to criticism and a birth to healthy analyzation.

A matured Libra has learned how to be in love with love, in a healthy way. In love with Real Love; with the raw energy and authenticity of it's energy, that way when humans and opportunities come around that claim to be Love, they can be distinguishing and keep their own heart set on what they have learned to be it's truth. They have mastered detachment.

A matured Scorpio has adjusted their perspective, placing the abilities of being extremely passionate and emotionally intense, only in situations that don't create more chaos. Their lifelong journey for true power has moved them into a space where they are more settled and accomplished. They learn the rhythm of life and can finally become selfless, and this is where their energy is truly it's most powerful.

A matured Sagittarius is the ember stage of fire; warm, spreading and long lasting. The knowledge and philosophies acquired over the years are now steeped, grounded in substance and embedded in a person that can finally sit down long enough, and have the patience, to share it's inspirations. Their habit to be generous and spreading have switched out it's impulsive nature for selectivity and self- preservation.

A matured Capricorn drops the shrewdness, and can be an exemplified patriot of what they stood for when they initially started their ambitious climb of hard earned success. They realize just because they are the goats, does not mean anybody and everything are the rocks and steps to ascend upon, and they warm their heart up enough to trust others with their vulnerabilities. They retire their need to be serious for the upholding of the many responsibilities all Capricorns are dealt, and they let that beautiful ability to entertain and bring joy be what they now lead and corale others with.

A matured Aquarius honors the unbeaten path they chose and created by tooth and nail, by sharing with others the lessons learned from it. Their ability to be friendly and connect with anyone, becomes more filled out, & it becomes harder for them to be perceived as disingenuous, because they can now choose the role they'll play in the life of every individual they meet, and share the gems needed like the sages they were born to be. They feel the freedom to become even more obscure.

A matured Pisces is a vessel of universal love. They spend their lives being a collage of all the human personality could offer, from kind to cruel, yielding to stubborn, and they take each lesson from their colorful experiences, and only extract the most optimistic, high frequency wisdom from them. They keep their mystery while their ability to impart love to others unfolds endlessly.

[loveemagicpeace]

Observations about moon signs☁️🧚🏽🍓

Aires moon- can be very self-centered, they have no need to be depend on someone. They enjoy their company and also doing activities. Playing sports means a lot to them and they like to have a routine that they can enjoy. You don't like to stay in one place for long. They are positive and emotionally strong. They handle life's things well. In a relationship, they need a partner who will encourage and support them in the things they will do and allow them to have freedom. My opinion is that this moon is most susceptible to emotional freedom and freedom in a relationship.

Taurus moon- like cute things and like to spend time with people who are close to them. They need touch and it is also very important to them. They will quickly show this to the other person as well. They simply cannot be without physical touch. They love hugs, kisses on the cheeks and warm feeling. I would describe them as teddy bears. They also give very warm and nice hugs. Food is important to them (they like to eat good and quality food). They like to spend time in the cinema, at cozy couch, also they really like music. They like luxurious things and jewelry (also worn many times). They like to spoil their partner. They are very loyal and emotionally strong. They persist and won't just go away (their emotions are very strong and stable).

Gemini moon-like people who have a good mindset. Talking to a person is very important to them (there are also people who like communication and will communicate with you late at night). They think a lot about their feelings and analyze the other person's thoughts. They quickly find out how the other person works and in what way. They are people who can also give you very good advice and will know how to enter into a neutral role emotionally. However, they can often be moody and irritable at home and with relatives. You may not need to study something in depth to feel that you know enough about it.

Cancer moon-like people who are emotional. Emotional interaction means a lot to them and they put a lot on the other person's feelings. They have to feel emotionally safe, that they can trust someone. They are very intuitive and will immediately detect a person's vibrations (whether they are good or bad), they also detect spaces and energy in general. They sense that things will happen before they do. They are not so emotionally open and only open up to those they really trust and know that they can expose themselves emotionally (even though they don't like to do it). They are emotionally very strong and can handle a lot of emotions. They like hugs, kisses. They really like to spend the night with someone and this for them also represents some kind of bonding with another person. For them, sleeping with someone in the same bed is a very intimate thing. They like to have their own comfortable space in which to spend their time. It is very important for them to be able to be who they are in a relationship and to express their feelings freely. But they can also be stubborn and impulsive.

Leo moon- can be very dramatic and self-centered. They love spending time with their partner and spending time with them. They also need a lot of emotional attention, they want their partner to notice them and give them their time. They like to do crazy things with a person and thus bond with them in a way. Above all, they like children's things or things they did as children and share it with others.It means a lot to them if you do something with them that includes their hobbies.Emotions are often overwhelmed by the ego (which means that they can feel a lot but don't let themselves express it). Although when they really want something, they will leave their ego behind. I have a feeling that many times they can be lonely inside and they don't show it out loud. They can quickly begin doubt in themselves and whether they are good enough for someone.

Virgo moon-however, this moon can be very critical of itself and others. People with this moon often do not know how to express their emotions, at least not in the way that someone might want. They know how to take care of others and offer them support when they need it, but when they can get close to someone, they can have a problem, and they know how to show it. They are also paranoid and have great concern for the health of others and themselves. Cleanliness means a lot to them and they want to have a tidy and pleasant home. Men with this moon tend to do a lot of cleaning and also do women's chores. They can choose partners based on their routine.

Libra moon-are very social and need socialization. But they are also tied to the fact that they like relationships and can feel lonely when they are not in a relationship. Which means that they can choose a partner who may not suit them so much, but they will be with him because they don't want to be lonely. They like to have friends and hang out with them. Their emotions are rational and neutral. Otherwise, they can be very emotionally attached to their partner and the relationship can mean a lot to them (but they can sometimes have a problem staying in it if all the conditions are not met).

Scorpio moon- can be very secretive, emotionally closed or too intense. Deep feelings and someone with whom they can share all their secrets mean a lot to them. They are emotionally very devoted and sacrifice a lot for their partner, home, and family. They may have a special attachment to children and want to give them as much as possible. They are also an analytical person meaning they will always analyze the emotions of others. They like a home that is away from everyone and is more alone or on the private area. However, they can often feel that their emotions are too much or that people do not understand them and do not feel this depth as they do. They connect best with water moons because only they will understand their emotionally complex nature.

Sagittarius moon-are optimistic, funny and like to tell jokes. There are people who will always want to put you in a good mood and do their best to make you feel good. They connect emotionally with someone through experience, travel, adventure and wisdom. They like to have a philosophy of life and search for meaning. Their emotions show through optimism. Although they act independently, they are actually looking for someone who will make them feel at home. Someone who will fulfill them emotionally. They feel alienated in their own home and many times they move out of their country. They are looking for someone who will bring meaning to their lives (a sense of what to live for and show them the way). They are emotionally impulsive and can also be jealous. Sagittarius often have the feeling that they are alone or that they can be alone and go through something alone, but in reality they just need someone who will give them the feeling that there is a whole world for them. Someone who will make them feel that they are not alone. They hide a lot of their emotions with humor and people don't even notice. This moon does not have such a big ego.

Capricorn moon-are emotionally stable and focused on peace and a stable relationship. Many times their emotions can be well focused. Especially when it comes to learning, work, they have a great focus on it. Usually when they end a relationship or any situation makes them sad, they put their emotions to work and want to distance themselves as much as possible from what they really feel. Their emotions can often be cold, but they are very non-judgmental people, they will always accept the emotions of another person, but they rarely react to it. They always have to process their emotions within themselves before they can share them with others. They trust very few people and tend to be closed off when it comes to expressing emotions unless they feel they can express things.

Aquarius moon- are attached to their friends and friendships mean a lot to them emotionally. They don't like groups so much, they prefer to focus on one person because they quickly feel alienated or like they don't belong in that group. Especially in a family, they can feel aloof, unwanted and invisible. They are much more emotional than people would think. They like to have fun and make fools of themselves. They like people who make them feel like it's okay to be weird and different. They can quickly become emotionally isolated and often feel that way among people. For them, home represents something unique and their own. They are independent and are looking for a person who is similar to them. They may also tend to operate as an outsider or lone wolf, preferring to maintain a detached view that is only possible from the outskirts. They feel very different from the environment in which they grow up. The outsider experience is felt at a very early age.

Pisces moon-these are the people who will always bring you some snacks or be emotionally there for you. Always there to comfort you and help you. They are emotionally sensitive and pick up a lot of energy from others, so they are also quickly exhausted. They have a lot of empathy for others and want to understand and feel the people around them. They are also emotionally shy and change how they feel quickly.They express their feelings most easily through art. They are emotional and quickly take a lot to heart emotionally. They show their love in a very selfless way, but they can also be manipulative if they see that the person does not return the same feelings. They are also incredibly caring, and their loved ones know they can always rely on them for a sympathetic ear, a warm hug, and an encouraging pep talk when they're going through a tough time. They are naturally escapist and they might distract themselves by diving into movies, books, music, fanfiction, etc.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🌊🌶️☁️

[aurae-rori]

DR RATIO ANALYSIS

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT!

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, Oh No! and Are You Satisfied? are much too basic songs to analyze Dr. Ratio to! Just because he's a scholar doesn't mean that he has academic trauma!" WRONG! Before we start, I have been researching psychology for approximately six years and I plan to go into it professionally. HOWEVER, that said, I am NOT a professional (YET. One day I will be. Yay for Aurae!) so understand that everything I come to conclusions about has been analyzed with some personal judgement, personal interpretations, and this is just what I have concluded with the info that I have deconstructed from his brain. If you disagree, that's fine!

I will be pulling from my own experiences with being a "golden" and "gifted" child, as well as the experiences I've had speaking to other people who were those. I will also be pulling from my experiences of researching and seeing how people with superiority complexes work, as well as diving into how those work (from what I've seen, as well as how they conceal a lack of self-esteem).

OKAY, NOW THAT THAT LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, ALLOW ME TO WORK MY PSYCH ENJOYER MAGIC! Let's deconstruct Dr. Ratio like a lego toy.

Let's start off with how Dr. Ratio presents himself. When you first meet him, he seems like a haughty, arrogant asshole. He likes to PRESENT himself as a stoic, superior scholar who is purely in it to win it, and I got total "*stares down at your tiny body and laughs at how you lack knowledge*" vibes at the very start, due to how he goes around calling people idiots all the time. However, he DOES lose the idgaf war, and we can very quickly see that he does care for other people, even if in his own, strange way. Dr Ratio presentation: An asshole. The reality?

His entire character is based around the idea of helping the masses. He wishes to spread knowledge through the cosmos and give people who didn't have access to it, access. He's a harsh teacher, and calling people 'idiots' is NOT the way to motivate them, but he's doing his best™.

Actually, no, I'm going to go full psych into this. Okay, so here starts the Dr. Ratio and my FATHER COMPARISONS. My father is a professor and he is often called a harsh grader by his students. However, I've spoken to him multiple times because I was curious - why is he so harsh and diligent with his grading system? The answer is - he wants them to actually learn. When he's grading, he gives them harsh marks because he wants them to know exactly where they messed up, and he's always willing to stay after hours to help students understand where they can't. My father also is an enjoyer of knowledge, and for as long as I've remembered, he has prioritized teaching me how to think critically. He wants me to be able to think for myself - and I think that's what Dr. Ratio wants, too. He wants for his students to be able to fully comprehend and absorb the information that he teaches, and although his methods are harsh, he genuinely wants to help. My father's like this too - he hates students that waste his time or aren't here because their hearts are in it. Dr. Ratio hates people who aren't taking their education seriously because knowledge is important. Knowledge is a tool, and to disregard it completely is lowkey kind of insulting - especially when there are people who weren't privileged enough to actually get it, so this isn't something that you should take for granted. Dr. Ratio despises people who take knowledge for granted.

Also, I disagree with the claims that say that Dr. Ratio hates the genius society. He shows open respect for them in his voice lines. Just check them if you need proof. Also, I'll delve into the idea of Aeons and recognition later.

Now that we’ve established that Dr. Ratio kins my dad, let’s let's tackle the 'stoic' allegations. He is LOSING the idgaf war. Like, really badly. He has a temper of a thousand suns and snaps at people frequently, despite his 'impassive' face, his tone holds a LOT of emotion. He seems to feel very deeply and has a shit ton of empathy for others - why else would he be dedicating his entire career to helping others? Of course, he doesn't express this in 'typical' ways of being openly kind - but it doesn't mean that he doesn't care for other people. In fact, he seems to be pretty good at putting himself in the shoes of others and understanding them - expressed in the 2.1 quest where he tells Aventurine to tell him if he can't hold on any longer. Also, he loses the IDGAF war because he is actively trying to help people who want to learn and trying to spread logic and knowledge across the cosmos to those who didn't have it before. Would a man who didn't GAF do that? No!

Now that we've covered his view on knowledge and the way that he presents himself, let's turn to the way that he SEES himself. Now, this is where we get into the nitty gritty of gifted child trauma & academic trauma as well as crippling expectations. It's literally explicitly said in his character stories that he sees himself as mediocre, and it's canon that he doesn't have a good view of himself. His self-esteem is down in the fucking trenches along with my sanity as I write this analysis. The reality is - being called a genius your whole life doesn't really make you feel better about yourself. I'd know. I was. In fact, it makes you feel fucking worse when you can't live up to an expectation. We all fail in life. It's part of being human. But when you're held to such high standards - idolized for your knowledge and the way that you're 'gifted' - the crash comes really fucking hard. Failure is inevitable, and when people who are held on that pedestal experience it, they take it really bad.

The reality is that nobody - not even geniuses - are perfect, but you grow up believing that you are. Then, when you fail for the first time, it all comes tumbling down. The first time I came home with a bad grade was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I hadn't studied because I was arrogant and I thought that I was smart enough to pass without putting any extra effort into it - because I was a 'gifted' child, right? I should've been able to do it without studying like the other kids. And that's the thing with gifted children – you grow reliant on that title. You cling onto it for dear life for motivation, as well as self-perception. Little by little, the person you are falls apart as you slave away to the perception other people have of you. I think basically every gifted child that I've ever spoken to is a victim of this – and of course, you can heal from this mindset - but it's a hard one to shake.

Ratio's way of presenting himself as being a 'genius' and 'arrogant' also seems to contradict the way that he calls himself 'mundane' at the same time. However, these are two mindsets that can coexist. One part of you believes that you are a genius and that you are perfect, while the other part is crumbling and calling yourself good-for-nothing every time you make a mistake. It's a tiring cycle to live in. This usually leads to people shutting themselves out and closing themselves off after living like that, pushing back your own feelings in favour of being the perfect child. However, we don't know the exact details of Dr. Ratio's childhood, but we can infer that he was held to a pedestal, and this is a very harmful mindset for a child to have.

His superiority complex comes both from how other people view him, but it's a way to cope with his crippling lack of self-esteem. I'm sorry my guy. Also helping others probably helps him feel like he's worth something and makes him feel better because he bases his entire worth off of what he can do and how he can help others. However, this is just my personal interpretation backed by what I have already deconstructed. 

In general, this is an easy way to crush self-esteem. You spend your whole life working to meet the image of what other people think you are. In fact, another reason why Dr. Ratio might be so harsh is because that’s the kind of attitude he holds towards himself when conducting research – he’s as hard on himself as he is to others. You end up hating the idea of failure, instead of seeing it as it should be - a way to improve and grow. Actually, I think this could be a reason that he went out of his way to break that illusion of 'worshipping geniuses' in the Space Station. Maybe some sort of childhood connection? Personal connection? In his endeavour to spread more knowledge and make people think for themselves and not blindly follow geniuses, to wake them up and let them think for themselves - maybe, somewhere, in there, he's helping that little child that was almost dehumanized for his intelligence. TLDR: Conflicting mindsets due to trauma, brain vs heart almost - his knowledge that he is a genius vs the crippling lack of his self worth.

Now that we've established Dr. Ratio's self worth, let's take a look at the impact Aeons had on him. Nous, the Aeon of Knowledge itself. I think in a world where the Gods are real, tangible beings that you can reach out and talk to - it makes sense that someone with high ambition and someone who's been called a genius his whole life would seek the confirmation of Nous. When you're a man of knowledge, and you've spent your whole life working with it, being praised for it – it feels natural to look for a god to look down upon you and bless you, right? The Genius Society – it should house him, because he is a genius as well, right? Imagine this – you have been called a genius your whole life, held to that kind of pedestal for so long, and now you wait for the recognition of the Gods. Because if you truly are a genius – then surely, a higher being will recognize your intelligence, right?

The invitation never comes.

And then, comes the doubt.

What if I'm really not a genius? What if everything I've worked for is a lie? Aeons are beings that are 'absolute'. If the god of Knowledge won't accept you or even cast a glance upon you, does that mean that everything was wrong. Gods see more than humans, after all. Gods know more than humans - and that spiral... I think you can see if. (If you don't let me know. I will ramble about how a failure like that can make you spiral down into a worse mindset). 

However, the reason why Ratio was never invited to the Genius Society is simple. It’s because he LOSES THE IDGAF WAR. Now, if we look at all the people we know who are in the Genius Society - we find one thing in common. They’re in it to win it for themselves. They don’t help others using the knowledge that they’ve gotten - they use it to pursue shit for themselves. The people of the Genius Society are inherently self-serving. They WIN the idgaf war. Ratio LOSES. Do we see now? 

Ratio’s empathy is the reason why he wasn’t let in. He is too human. Nous is a computer. Herta is detached from people. Ruan Mei is literally looking at life as test subjects. Screwllum is a robot. 

OUR DOCTOR MAN LOST THE IDGAF WAR, BECAUSE HE IS HUMAN AND FEELS FOR OTHERS!!! 

Also, it’s a plausible theory that Nous’s definition of ‘genius’ is different from the human definition of ‘genius’ – it’s a computer, after all. Who knows what’s going on in that code head of its. 

However, we still love you Ratio. Never stop losing the IDGAF war. 

TLDR: Nous is a computer. It is also in it to win it. It is also self serving. It gazes upon the hoes who are here to win it for themselves. Ratio is busy serving the masses and cooking knowledge in his frying pan. To it, there is no logical reason to be doing this. Therefore, no reason to invite this guy to the Genius Society. 

Ratio’s gifted child trauma says otherwise. He wants in. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been working his whole life as a genius. 

Nous is like… nah bro, you care too much. Ratio is like, ‘what the fuck?’ And then the AEON OF KNOWLEDGE GOES FOR THE MILK. 

Okay, now, quick shoutout to Ratio wanting to help others. He is just like me fr. SO BASICALLY, RECAP OF EVERYTHING I JUST SAID:

Ratio LOSES the idgaf war because he cares about other people. Spent his whole life as the golden egg, and then turns to the gods for recognition because of the inherent trauma of being a child genius. He goes, "hey bro, can you confirm that I am in fact a genius?" and Nous goes, "no, you are too busy cheffing for the masses." Ratio goes, "what the fuck?" and then we collectively realize his attitude comes from blocking off his feelings (while failing miserably), being salty about not being recognized, being put on a pedestal for his whole life, and his crippling depression *cough* lack of self worth *cough*. 

Oh, and the "I will never be enough" thought train probably hits him every single day. He is not enough to be recognized by a God. Gods are superior to humans. Maybe nothing has worth after all. Hey, that's Nihility! Hi IX, let's hear what you have to say.

*muffled ix noises*

I see, I see.

The consensus is: HE'S TRAUMATIZED BY EXPECTATIONS! HE WILL PROBABLY SUFFER FROM BURNT OUT GIFTED CHILD IF HE HAS NOT ALREADY!

Okay, now, before I delve into song lyrics (and I KNOW this has been long, just bear with me) I want to talk a little bit (read: a lot) about his relationship with Aventurine. We all know that he cares about Aventurine in his own way. But I want to pull in another idea that I didn’t cover before: 

Ratio’s fucking emotional constipation. 

Basically, the reason why he has trouble connecting with others is because he was most likely alienated by others as a symptom of being called a genius and being put on a pedestal. This makes him seem unapproachable to his peers, most likely, and therefore, as a result, doesn’t know how to properly connect with others. This just makes his way of presenting affection and care to others even more challenging – because he just doesn’t know how to do it in a healthy and clear way. Academic trauma causing emotional problems, because he’s probably a little bit out of touch with his own. Processing? No! Research. Also, this is very important for understanding Ratio’s character in my opinion, because he’s just a little guy who doesn’t know how to articulate. Maybe he’s got a touch of the ‘tism. Tism mutuals, do we agree or disagree? 

However, in comes Aventurine. Love Aventurine, but they are both emotionally constipated. Aventurine displays his affection in ways that Ratio probably only catches after re-analyzing their time together about five times. He’s also a very closed off individual – but Ratio knows this. A cute thing is that Ratio is patient where he needs to be, even if he’s generally a pretty hot-headed guy, and I’m like… bro… that letter… “I wish you the best of luck”... I will wait for you…. GAY ASS MAN…

Sorry the Aventio demons took over. Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that they both have nonverbal communication with one another that they clearly decipher and Ratio obviously cares for him (he came back and almost jeopardized the plan just for the sake of his ‘coworker’... okay gayboy…) and they just have such a neat little dynamic… Aventurine lets Dr. Ratio do his thing… understands his emotional alienation to a degree…. they’re so neat….

Okay, Aventurine segment over. NOW, FINALLY, WE CAN GET TO THE SONG LYRICS!!! YAY!!!! We all cheered!!!

We are going to be here for two more amber eras, because I realized I actually want to analyze every single lyric from both of these songs. Brace yourself for like, 2k more words. Help. 

I think it’s only proper that we start off with ‘Oh No!’ the song that has haunted me since my childhood.

“Don’t do love, don’t do friends

I’m only after success

Don’t need a relationship

I’ll never soften my grip”

Remember when I mentioned that alienation was a big part of Ratio lore? Yeah, that manifests itself in this. When you spend your entire life chasing after knowledge and being held to that standard of untouchable genius, it makes sense that you couldn’t connect with others and that you turn your gaze only to success. Therefore, relationships that are interpersonal lose meaning for a bit – you’re just looking for answers and ways to help them, not connect with them. Also, this is what he wants to do – so he’s never going to pass down an opportunity to better himself or to help someone else. 

“Don’t want cash, don’t want card

Want it fast, want it hard 

Don’t need money, don’t need fame

I just want to make a change

I just wanna change, I just wanna change” 

This is directly alluding to his reasonings for distributing knowledge across the cosmos. Was he based on this song? Maybe he was. He’s not looking for money or fame, his ultimate goal is actually pretty selfless – to bring knowledge and give people the tools they need to think for themselves. He just wants to make a change – he just wants people to be able to have access to knowledge and help cure ‘stupidity’. He wants to do it as quickly as possible, always reaching for lofty goals that might seem impossible, but he will make them possible. 

“I know exactly what I want and who I want to be

I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine

I’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy

Oh! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no, oh!” 

Ratio knows his goal. He knows what he’s working towards. I do believe that he understands why he is the way that he is – he has a degree in Psychology, after all. He knows how he’s been hurt but at the same time, the trauma brain probably doesn’t want to recognize it and he hasn’t stepped into healing yet. He knows what he went through impacted him, but he’s too busy helping others to help himself. He’s becoming what he wants to be, and yet he’s not, all at the same time – which causes the idea of “oh no!” as a kind of cry for help, almost. He’s too proud to ask for it himself, of course, so he’ll fall alone until someone manages to catch him and give him the strength to continue holding on. Aventurine is that. 

“One track mind, one track heart

If I fail, I’ll fall apart

Maybe it is all a test

‘Cause I feel like I’m the worst

So I always act like I’m the best” 

Now, these are the exact lyrics that made me associate this song with Ratio in the first place. He’s got a singular goal that he will do nothing to stop at getting, that he goes so far to get to. However, as I mentioned earlier, failure is not an option for those who were deemed gifted or genius. You are perfect, so therefore you must live up to everyone’s every expectation and surpass them, too, in order to keep your perception of yourself intact. Ratio does not hold himself in high regard, but acts arrogant in order to hold himself together and not fall to the self-deprecating thoughts, even if they fall through the cracks. It gets tiring to hold yourself together like that for a long time, you know? 

“I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die

I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die” 

Remember how I was talking about contradictory mindsets and how they can coexist. This is them. The feeling of crippling self-hatred and lack of self esteem versus the idea that you can do it, you can make a difference – you were born a genius, this is what you’re going to do. This is the knowledge that you are a genius vs the lack of self-esteem that Ratio has. “Mediocre” vs “genius” mindset, eh? 

All the other lyrics in this song are repetitions of what I’ve analyzed before, so let’s move onto “Are you Satisfied?” 

To be honest, there are only a few lines in this song that allow me to connect it to Ratio, so therefore, I will only be analyzing them. However, if you think that other lyrics can connect to him, I’d be interested in knowing how. 

“What you’re gonna be 

It’s not my problem if you don’t see what I see

And I do not give a damn if you don’t believe

My problem, it’s my problem that I never am happy

It’s my problem, it’s my problem on how fast I will succeed”

Pretending to not care about how the world sees you is so fucking real. Sometimes, you really don’t give a shit, and sometimes it’s all you can think about. Ratio… doesn’t seem like he’s the happiest person. He works himself hard and he’s always chasing after a goal that must be exhausting. He’s always doing his best, and I think even with his empathy, it’s easy to start not giving a shit after trying for so long and so hard. Accepting help is one of the hardest things that anybody can do, especially with how much pride he has. His personal problems are his personal problems and he can deal with them on his own. 

“High achiever, don’t you see? 

Baby, nothing comes for free

They say I’m a control freak

Driven by a greed to succeed

Nobody can stop me” 

Nothing comes for free. A lot of the things Ratio has achieved is due to his own intelligence, yes, but also because of a shit ton of hard work. His goal is literally to cure the universe of ‘stupidity’ – and that’s a pretty large fucking goal. He is a high achiever who likes to know the details of every situation when he can in order to try and make things better, and he is driven by a greed to succeed. Why wouldn’t he be? Success is important, and success means helping more people. He isn’t going to allow himself to be stopped by anybody – not even anybody from the Genius society. 

Okay, and we have finally reached the end of my analysis! This caps at around 4k words, so if you stuck around for this long, thank you so much. I would love to hear any of your comments, and I hope you laughed a little bit. Thank you again! This means so much to me that you read. <3