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stylesispunk · 4 months ago

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The soldier in the armour | part ii

marcus acacius x f!reader

masterlist | previous part | next part

summary: Acacius left for battle while emperor Geta makes his way back to you in a sinister way. After returning, Acacius realizes he is not enough to protect you and you reunite with someone from your past.

wc: 14k???

warning: angst, fluff, age gap, power imbalance, harassment, anxiety, someone bites another person on here, allusions to smut, mentions of poisoning, mentions of blood, reader has a mental breakdown on this one.

a/n: hello! First of all I want to thank everyone for the amount of love you gave to the first part of this fic that was a request and it was going to be a one piece only. But now it has become a series. This chapter is full of a lot of things so i hope you like it and share your thoughts with me. I spent the whole afternoon finishing this and the weather is almost killing me. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You could feel the change of beating in your heart when marcus acacius looked at you now. The years of yearning and longing for freedom felt like they had met a fate the moment he said three words to you.

The golden cage you had been part of, the years of being of prisoner faded to nothing after he poured all his love for you in that kiss, in the way he touched every single inch of your skin when he made love to you.

You felt the freedom kissing your skin because you had him. You felt a string connecting both hearts beating and that was the way you coped with everything that was taken away from you.

acacius saved you, he completed you and made this world feel less lonely for you.

He felt the same, since how his hand burn over your skin or your heart beated like a beast under his palm.

He had come to learn how to love you, beyond the duty and protection he has swore to work for.

Now you were his heart and your life his purpose.

The hours before he had to leave for battle, the air around the Villa felt heavier. Charged with and unspoken tension of an impeding separation just when he had become addicted to your presence next to him.

Acacius busied himself with preparations, knowing he would give up everything in order to stay back with you. But he knew better. He was aware of how the glories he brought back from battles became the privileges that would keep your life safe.

After Lucilla sent Lucius away, you and her stayed in Rome, becoming prisoners under the ruling madness of Emperor Geta and Caracalla.

Always at bay, always with your life depending of the outcomes of Acacius battles.

And you, bound by blood and beauty, remained, a pawn in a dangerous game where your survival now depended not only on Acacius’ victories but also on Geta's unpredictable affection.

Geta’s obsession with you had become a double-edged sword. His love, if it could be called that, offered a semblance of protection, a shield against Caracalla’s wrath. Yet it was a prison of its own, trapping you within the steel of a cage, where every glance, every word, was laden with passive threats. You lived in constant vigilance, knowing that Geta's favor could turn to fury in an instant, and that fury could mean your end.

Now, Acacius battles weighed heavier over his shoulder. From this moment, with every campaign, he would risk his life, leaving you to endure the suffocating air of the emperor’s court, where you were little more than a gilded possession. He hated it, the helplessness, the waiting, the gnawing fear that one day he might not return, and you would be left to fend off Geta's advances alone.

You watched him from a distance, your fingers gripping the edge of the balcony railing. His broad shoulders bore the weight of his duty, but the occasional glance he cast your way betrayed the turmoil beneath his composed exterior. He was a man bound by honor, but also by a love that had grown more profound with each stolen moment between you.

"Will you look at me?" you whispered, your voice breaking the silence that had grown unbearable for him.

Acacius paused, his hands stilling on the edge of the balcony. Slowly, he turned to face you, and the weight of his gaze, filled with longing, regret, and the love he could never fully express in words, made your breath hitch.

"I fear," he began, his voice rough with emotion, "that if I do, I may never be able to leave."

You stepped closer, slowly, as though you could hold back time itself. "Then don't," you said, your hands reaching for him, your touch soft yet insistent as you placed your palms over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath his clothes.

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead falling to rest against yours. "You deserve more than this life of waiting, of uncertainty. I cannot give you freedom, not truly. All I can give is my promise that I will return."

"Acacius, that’s all I need from you." you said, your voice firm, closing your eyes as you felt his warm enveloping you. “I have a surprise for you”

Acacius raised his head slightly, his brows knitting together in curiosity. “A surprise?” he asked, his voice soft but tinged with intrigue.

You nodded, a small smile breaking in this moment of madness. “Come with me,” you said, taking his hand in yours. He hesitated for a moment, his sense of duty tugging at him, but the warmth of your touch and the glimmer in your eyes proved irresistible.

You led him through the villa, weaving through the familiar halls now draped in the golden hues of early evening. The air grew warmer as you approached the chamber where the servants had worked quietly under your instruction. Pushing the doors open, you revealed the scene you had prepared.

The bath was set within a sunken marble basin, steaming water rippling gently beneath a scattering of rose petals. The room was lit by the soft glow of dozens of candles, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. The scent of lavender and sandalwood lingered in the air, soothing and rich.

Acacius stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. “You did this… for me?”

You turned to face him, your smile soft and filled with affection. “You’re always giving so much of yourself to Rome, to the battles, and now to protect me. Tonight, I want you to let me take care of you.”

His eyes softened as they landed on you. "You’ve thought of everything," he murmured, his voice laced with gratitude.

You graced a small smile. "You deserve at least this much."

Acacius began to remove the layers he had worn all day, setting them aside piece by piece until he stood before you in nothing but the bare vulnerability you had come to know by yourself. He stepped into the bath, sighing as the warm water enveloped him, washing away the weight of the day.

You moved to leave, thinking he might prefer solitude, but his voice stopped you.

"Stay," he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I want you close tonight."

Your heart skipped a beat at the quiet plea in his tone. You hesitated only briefly before nodding. Removing your dress, you stepped into the bath, the warmth of the water immediately soothing your tense muscles.

Acacius reached for you, pulling you gently toward him until you were nestled against his chest. His strong arms encircled you, his hand brushing lightly against your damp hair.

"For all the battles I’ve fought," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple, "this one feels different. I can’t bear to leave you behind."

"You’ll come back," you whispered, your voice firm despite the lump in your throat.

He tilted your chin up, his gaze piercing and filled with emotion. "I will move heaven and earth to return to you, my lady." he promised.

You sat in the water together, the silence filled with the unspoken fear and hope that swirled between you. For that moment, there was no war, no emperors, no uncertain future, just the two of you, bound together by a love that defied everything else.

But still, you shifted slightly, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body and the soothing water wrapped around you, but the weight of reality pressed against your mind. After a moment, you spoke, your voice soft but filled with worry.

"I don’t like you fighting Geta and Caracalla’s battles," you admitted, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “They have done nothing to deserve the place they are at. All his glory comes from blood and murder. They don’t deserve loyalty.”

He sighed deeply, his hand stroking your back in slow, comforting motions. "I know," he said, his voice heavy with the same frustration. "I’ve questioned my place in their service more times than I can count. But my duty... it’s the only thing that keeps you safe. As long as I fight their battles, they have no reason to turn their cruelty toward you or Lucilla."

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze. The name of your mother troubled you. You couldn’t even name the feeling, perhaps jealousy. After all, the years Acacius had spent his life on battle were to protect her before you.

"My happiness," he whispered, “It’s you.” He said as he could read your thoughts

"How was it like?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible above the gentle ripples of the water. "When you served in Maximus's army?"

Acacius shifted slightly, the tension in his body growing palpable. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, and he took a moment before responding. "It was... different," he began cautiously, his hand never ceasing its soothing caress along your back. "Maximus was a man of honor. He fought for the empire, yes, but also for something greater. For justice, for the people."

You noticed the change in his demeanor, the way his jaw tightened and his gaze drifted, as though he were remembering something painful. You knew there was more he wasn’t telling you, a truth hidden beneath his words. "You respected him," you said, more a statement than a question.

"Yes," Acacius admitted, his voice low. "He was a leader unlike any other.”

You studied his face, searching for more, for the deeper truth that lay behind his guarded expression. "Did you know him well?" you asked, your heart pounding in anticipation.

Acacius hesitated, his eyes meeting yours with a flicker of hesitation. "I knew him," he said carefully. "He was a great man, but like all great men, he carried his burdens."

There was something in the way he spoke, a weight that suggested he knew more than he was letting on. Your curiosity piqued, but you decided to tread carefully. "My mother never spoke much about him," you said quietly. "Only that he was a noble warrior."

Acacius's hand stilled on your back, and he took a deep breath. "He was loved by people." he said gently.

You nodded, understanding the unspoken words. "I remember him more than I remember my own father," you murmured, your mind drifting to the stories you had heard of Maximus’s valor and strength. “I remember seeing him fighting at the colosseum and I remember how Lucius got obsessed with becoming a gladiator…”

Your eyes drifted somewhere else as if you were trying to find an exact extract of a moment where you would find your brother inside your memories. Acacius’s expression softened, but there was a shadow in his eyes. He knew a truth beyond, something Lucilla had confessed to him only and he had sworn never tell.

"He defeated your uncle," he reminded you, his voice barely above a whisper trying to bring you back from your thoughts.

“I know. I can recall that day.” You said, and after a pause you spoke again. “He wasn’t different from Geta or Caracalla, but I remember how much he loved Lucius. More than me even.” You looked up at him for a moment, “I’ve never feel truly seen, truly loved…”

Acacius kissed your head, his lips lingering against your damp hair as though trying to imprint the moment into his memory. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies.

“You will always be loved by me” he whispered as you closed your eyes at the sensation of his lips on your head. “Until my last breath.”

You tilted your head back slightly to look up at him again, your eyes searching his face. The flickering light of the lamps cast soft shadows across his strong features, but it couldn’t mask the vulnerability in his expression.

"You remind me of Maximus” you said, tracing his jawline “You’re the strongest man I know," you whispered, placing your hand gently on his cheek. "You’ll come back to me, General Acacius. I believe in you."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though his eyes remained solemn. "You make me want to survive every impossible fight, just to see your face again."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own. The bathwater lapped softly around you, the warmth a stark contrast to the cold reality of the coming day.

"Promise me something," he said after a long silence.

"Anything," you replied without hesitation.

"If I fall—"

"No," you interrupted, your voice sharp.

"Listen," he urged, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your arm. "If I fall, I need to know you’ll keep going. You’ll live, for yourself.”

He cupped your face in his hands, his touch impossibly gentle. "You’ve always been the braver of us," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "But I need to know you’ll fight for your happiness, even if I’m not there."

You swallowed hard, nodding despite the ache in your chest. "I’ll try," you promised, though the words felt hollow. You didn’t want to confess he had made your life easier to bare.

He kissed you then, not with urgency or desperation, but with a deep, abiding love that seemed to say everything words could not express. It was devotion in a silent vow; he would return to you.

And as the water cooled and the night deepened, you stayed in his arms, unwilling to let go, even as the weight of tomorrow loomed over you both.

When the early morning light peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the bed where you still slept. Acacius lay awake, his arms wrapped around you, his chest pressed to your bare back, feeling your skin against his own. He observed the gentle rise and fall of your breathing, committing the peaceful moment to memory. Every fiber of his being ached at the thought of leaving you behind haunted by the demons that threatened to take you away.

Quietly, he shifted, slipping his arm from under you and placing a kiss on your shoulder. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake. With a heavy heart, he got out of bed, moving through the bedroom as he dressed in his armor, getting ready for another senseless battle. The sound of leather straps and the faint clink of metal echoed softly in the room.

Acacius paused at the edge of the bed, glancing back at you one last time. Your face, serene and unguarded in sleep, was a sight he wanted to carry with him into battle. He closed his eyes briefly, murmuring a silent prayer for strength before placing a longing kiss on your temple and stepping out into the hall.

Outside, a handful of guards waited, their expressions tense but respectful. They fell into step behind him as he strode toward the courtyard, the weight of his duty heavy on his shoulders. The morning air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the warmth he had just left behind.

“General!” a guard called suddenly pointing at behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

He turned, his heart clenching at the sight of you running toward him, barefoot, wearing your nightgown you must had put on in hurry. Your hair was loose, tumbling in waves around your face, and your eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Acacius!” you called out, your voice trembling with urgency.

He met you halfway, his hands reaching out to steady you as you nearly collided with him. “What are you doing out here?” he asked, his tone both tender and concerned.

“I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye,” you said, your breaths coming in quick gasps from running. “Not like that.”

His expression softened, and he pulled you into his arms, ignoring the curious gazes of the guards. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his armor as though you could anchor him to you.

“It’s too early for you to be outside. You’re freezing,” he murmured, rubbing his hands over your arms to warm you.

“I don’t care,” you replied fiercely, looking up at him. “I couldn’t let you go without telling you that I love you, Acacius. And I’ll be waiting for you to come back to me.”

His breath hitched at your words, and for a moment, the stoic general was nowhere to be seen. In his place was a man who adored you with every fiber of his being.

“I love you, too,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “More than you’ll ever know.”

“You have made my life worth living again,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the weight of your words hung heavy between you.

His breath caught as he stared into your eyes, the raw vulnerability there piercing through every defense he had ever built. The battlefield, the war, the chaos Rome had become, all of it disappeared in that moment. There was only you, grounding him, giving him a purpose beyond the duty that had defined his life.

Acacius covered your hands with his own, the calloused warmth of his touch steadying your shaking fingers. “You’ve done the same for me,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I was lost until you brought me back to life.”

You smiled faintly, though tears streamed down your face. “Promise me you’ll come back. Promise me this won’t be the last time I see you like this.”

“I swear it,” he said firmly, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “By the gods, I’ll return to you. Nothing will keep me away.”

Your lips brushed his in a fleeting kiss, filled with all the love and hope you couldn’t put into more words. When he pulled away, he gently placed your hands back at your sides, as though committing every detail of you to memory.

“I’ll see you soon, my lady.” he said softly, before mounting his horse.

As he rode away, you stood there, the wind tugging at your gown, your heart heavy with emptiness. Watching him disappear into the horizon, you clung to his promise and touch, letting it light a spark of hope in the uncertain of what was coming without him anchor.

A gentle hand touched your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. You turned to see one of your loyal servants, her eyes filled with concern as she took in the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"Come with me, my lady," she urged softly, her voice full of care. "You’ll catch a cold out here."

You nodded silently, allowing her to guide you back toward the warmth of the villa. The wind whipped around you, carrying the scent of the olives and the distant sound of Acacius’s departing horse still in your mind. Each step felt heavier than the last, your heart aching with the weight of a farewell.

Once inside, the servant led you to your chambers, where a fire crackled warmly in the hearth. She helped you out of your damp gown, wrapping a thick shawl around your shoulders. "You need to rest, my lady," she said kindly, her hands lingering on yours in a gesture of comfort. "General Acacius will return sooner than you expect.”

You offered her a faint smile, though the ache in your chest was still fresh. "Thank you," you whispered, sinking into the plush cushions of the chair by the fire.

The servant bowed her head slightly before retreating, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls, their warmth doing little to ease the chill in your heart. You stared into the fire, replaying Acacius’s words in your mind, clinging to his promise as though it were a lifeline.

A few weeks had passed since Acacius left for battle, the days had stretched into endless hours that seem not to meet the dawn, time felt longer, the nights colder without Acacius filling the space. You found yourself feeling more tired lately, there were new changes happening to you body, some pain, uncomfortable sensation that you blamed on the deep emptiness settling in your heart that nothing seemed to fill.

So, as you sat at the table for breakfast, the familiar clink of silverware was the only sound in the room. Lucilla sat across from you, her regal presence unshaken, but there was a softness in her eyes as she regarded you. The way he looked at you, as a mother who was supposed to love her daughter.

"Acacius will return soon, my child," she said gently, her voice calm and reassuring. "He never—"

Before she could finish, you interrupted, a sharp edge to your tone. "You must know a lot about it," you said, your gaze fixed on your plate. The bitterness in your voice was unmistakable.

Lucilla’s expression shifted, a flicker of pain crossing her face. She set down her cup, her hands folding neatly in her lap. "What do you mean?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with a sorrow that mirrored your own.

You looked up, the walls you had built around your heart beginning to crack. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and shared pain. “You were the one he returned to before.” you said, bitterness inking your tongue.

Lucilla's face softened, her eyes reflecting the guilt he carried, the story between her and Marcus that seemed unfinished. She took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on the table.

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “He was bound to me once, by duty and by the burdens we shared. But that was a different time, a different life.”

You felt the sting of her words, the truth you had known but never fully confronted. “Different time?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Your question hung in the air, thick with the weight of your emotions. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you looked at your mother, waiting for an answer. The air between you was charged with uncertainty, like the quiet before a storm.

Lucilla shook her head, her gaze steady and filled with an intensity that made your heart ache. “Yes” she said firmly. “You are his heart now. I see the way he looks at you as if the world begins and ends with you.” She paused for a bit "I never wanted you to be caught in the politics of this empire, my dear," she said, her voice soft but laden with guilt. "I never wanted you to be a pawn in a game of power between two men. But I feared what would happen if I didn't do something."

You looked at your mother, the weight of your question pressing on you. The air between you was thick with the tension of everything unspoken, of truths that had been hidden for so long. Your voice trembled slightly as you asked, "Would you have married Acacius if the emperor hadn’t courted me first? Would you have still arranged for him to marry me, or would you have chosen a different path for us?"

Her gaze fell for a brief moment before she raised it to meet yours again. "Had it not been for Emperor Geta, I would have never allowed Acacius to marry you.”

A bitter smile tugged at your lips as you absorbed her words. "But you didn't expect he would end up loving me instead of you," you said, your voice laced with a mix of hurt and defiance.

Lucilla’s eyes flickered with a flash of emotion-wether it was regret or something deeper, you couldn’t quite tell. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her tone measured but filled with a quiet resignation. "No, I didn’t expect that. I thought his loyalty would always lie with me. I never imagined he would find in you what he once saw in me."

You swallowed hard, the weight of her confession settling heavily in your chest. "And yet, you still pushed us together, knowing it would tether me to a life I never wanted."

"I believed I was protecting you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "From the dangers of court, from the whims of powerful men. I thought if you were with someone like Acacius, someone strong and honorable, you would be safe."

"Safe?" you echoed, incredulity seeping into your tone. "You call this safety? Acacius leaving to fight battles to kept your place in this empire and protect me?” You took a deep breath, anger raising within you. "And what about Acacius? Did you ever consider how he felt in all of this?”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she met your gaze once more. "I didn’t think he could love anyone else," she said, her voice breaking. "I thought his heart was mine alone, even if our paths diverged. I never anticipated that he would find solace, comfort, love... in you."

The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of her words pressing down. "Well, he did," you said, your voice steady but filled with a quiet strength. "And now we’re both paying the price for your miscalculations."

Lucilla reached out, her hand hovering in the air between you. "I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered. "I only wanted what was best for you."

The silence stretched once more, but this time, it was not filled with bitterness. It was laden with understanding, a shared pain that neither of you could escape.

“I only want him to come back,” you whispered, finally allowing the tears to fall. “I want him to be safe.”

Lucilla reached out, her hand covering yours in a gesture of comfort. “He will,” she promised, her voice soft but resolute. “Acacius will return, because his heart belongs to you now, and nothing will keep him away.”

You couldn’t bear the thought of a life without him. Ever since Acacius had shown you kindness, the warmth his love could offer, he had filled the hollow spaces in your heart. You had become addicted to him, to the gentle way he would brush a stray hair from your face, to the force of his arms around your waist when the weight of the world threatened to crush you.

Before Acacius, your life had been a series of obligations and sacrifices, each day blending into the next in a monotonous cycle of duty you didn’t choose. But then he appeared, his unwavering loyalty and quiet strength breaking through the walls you had built around yourself. He had finally seen you as a woman with dreams, fears, and a desperate need for freedom.

You and Lucilla remained in a heavy silence, the weight of your shared worries filling the space of the room. The warmth of her hand on yours felt protective as never before.

A servant entered the room, bowing respectfully before addressing Lucilla. "My lady, Emperor Geta has requested your presence."

Lucilla shook her head, her voice firm yet calm. "Later," she said, unwilling to let the fragile moment between you both be shattered.

The servant hesitated, shifting uncomfortably before speaking again. "No, not you, my lady. Her." His gaze flicked toward you, and the room seemed to grow colder.

Lucilla’s hand tightened on yours, her expression hardening as she closed her eyes briefly, understanding the implications of Geta’s request. She knew this moment would come, had dreaded it ever since Acacius left for battle. Geta’s twisted fascination with you was no secret to her to you, neither to Acacius. That was the reason of your marriage after all, him providing protection from him. She feared what it meant now that Acacius was no longer there to shield you.

"Stay calm," she whispered, her eyes opening to meet yours with a shining light. "I will do everything in my power to protect you. Remember, you are stronger than you think."

Her words were meant to reassure, but the unease in her voice betrayed her true fear. You swallowed hard, trying to gather your courage as you stood. The servant’s eyes avoided yours, his discomfort evident as he waited to escort you.

With one last squeeze of your mother’s hand, you followed the servant, each step feeling heavier than the last. The shadow of Geta loomed over you, his intentions clear and menacing. But even as dread settled in your chest, you clung to Lucilla’s words and the hope that Acacius would return, his promise lighting a fragile spark in the darkness.

The quiet of the palace gardens was only broken by the soft rustling of leaves and the distant murmurs of servants. Emperor Geta was sitting on the stone bench, perhaps trying to gather his thoughts, when he noticed your presence. He turned around to face you, his golden robe gleamed faintly under the pale light of the sun, and there was an intensity in his eyes that unsettled you.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he accused you, his voice carried yearning and longing. “I understand why, but I needed to see you. To speak to you.”

You stayed silent, your gaze fixed on the ground. His presence was overwhelming, and the weight of everything he had done, and might still do, pressed heavily on you. Yet you knew there was no escaping this conversation.

Geta crouched before you, his piercing gaze softening as he studied your face. “You’ve always been kind, even when you had no reason to be. Even when I didn’t deserve it. That’s why I love you,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Not because you are the princess of Rome, not because of your beauty or grace, but because you have a heart unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”

You flinched slightly at his words, unsure how to respond. “Emperor Geta,” you began hesitantly, “I’m your prisoner and my heart belongs-“

“To General Acacius,” he interrupted, bitterness creeping into his tone. “Yes, I know. But does he truly deserve it? Does he love you as I do? Does he see you for who you are?” He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and cupped your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I would give you everything,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “The empire, my loyalty, my life… I would burn the empire for you.”

You felt a lump in your throat as his words echoed in the morning. His words were both a confession and a threat, a reminder of the power he wielded and the danger that came with it. Before you could move away, he leaned closer, his forehead briefly resting against yours as if seeking solace.

Then, without warning, his arms wrapped around you in an embrace. It wasn’t harsh or demanding, it was almost tender coming from him. But the closeness made your heart race with fear. His lips hovered near your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and possessive. “You were made for me. There is not marriage, no power that can change that.”

Before you could respond, you felt the sharp sting of his teeth against your shoulder. It was a claim. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and wild, and you could see the faint trace of blood on his lips.

“That mark,” he said, his voice steadier now, “will remind you that you are mine, no matter what. Even if you deny it, even if you run to Acacius, you will carry me with you.”

You stared at him, horrified and furious, your hand instinctively going to your shoulder. The pain was sharp, and you knew the wound would scar, a permanent reminder of his obsession.

“You’re mad,” you whispered, your voice trembling with fear “This isn’t love, Geta. This is control. And I will never belong to you.”

His expression flickered, as though your words had struck a nerve. But the defiance in your voice didn’t deter him. Instead, he straightened, his composure returning. “You may hate me now, but time will change that. You’ll see,” he said softly, almost as if convincing himself. “One day, you’ll understand.”

Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone under the light of the sun, that now seemed to disappear. Your hand remained pressed against your shoulder, the wound throbbing painfully against your fingertips.

Your gown clung to your shoulder, damp with the blood running from the bite Geta had inflicted. The metallic smell lingered in the air, and the dull throb of the wound made your steps falter as you returned to the villa. You wrapped a shawl tightly around yourself, hoping to conceal the evidence of what had transpired.

The flickering lamplight in the villa's corridors cast long shadows as you entered quietly, your heart pounding in your chest. You prayed no one would notice your state. But as you made your way toward your chambers, a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Daughter?” Lucilla’s voice was soft but carried a tone of concern. She had emerged from her own chambers, her sharp eyes immediately taking in your pale face, the stiffness of your movements, and the crimson stain slowly seeping through your shawl.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re distressed. What happened?”

You shook your head, attempting to brush past her. “It’s nothing. I’m tired. I need to rest.”

But Lucilla was relentless. She reached out and gently pulled at the shawl covering your shoulder. “Let me see,” she insisted, her voice tinged with a maternal sternness that left no room for argument.

You hesitated, swallowing hard, but the look in her eyes left you no choice. Slowly, you loosened the shawl, revealing the blood-soaked fabric of your gown and the angry bite mark on your shoulder.

Lucilla gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “What in the gods’ name happened to you?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to find the words. “It was Geta,” you whispered hoarsely. Regretting the words you had throwing at her earlier, “He... he bit me. He said I was his. That I would never truly belong to anyone else.”

Lucilla’s face hardened, horror contorting her features. “That monster,” she hissed, her voice trembling with anger. “He’s lost his mind. He has no right to lay a hand on you- no right at all!”

She took your hand, guiding you firmly toward your chambers. “We need to clean this wound before it festers,” she said, her voice now brisk and focused.

You followed her silently, the weight of the revelation pressing heavily on your shoulders. The pain from the bite throbbed with each step, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil swirling inside you. Lucilla’s grip on your hand was firm, a silent promise of protection despite everything that had transpired between you.

Once inside your chambers, she set about gathering water and cloths, her movements efficient and practiced. She didn’t speak, but the tension in the air was palpable, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. You sat down, your hands trembling as you tried to steady yourself.

Lucilla knelt beside you, gently peeling back the fabric of your gown to get a better look at the wound. Her expression darkened at the sight of the raw, inflamed skin. "This will sting," she murmured, dipping a cloth into the water and pressing it against the bite.

You winced, biting back a cry as the cool water met the tender flesh. "He said I could never escape him," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. "That no matter what, I would always be his."

Lucilla’s hand paused for a moment before resuming her careful cleaning. "You are not his," she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for doubt. "You are your own person. No one has the right to claim you, especially not in such a barbaric way."

You observed her, focused on mending your wound with such caring.

“Was it worth it?” you asked.

Lucilla’s hands stilled, her eyes momentarily closing as if the weight of your question struck her deeply. When she opened them again, her gaze was heavy with emotion.

She set the cloth aside and sat back on her heels, her hands resting in her lap. "I don’t know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I was doing what was best, what would keep you safe. I believed that Acacius could protect you in ways I could not. He brings the glory they lack of and-"

Her eyes met yours, the pain in them reflecting your own. "But I never anticipated this. I never thought Geta would..." She trailed off, her voice faltering as she fought to find the words. "I wanted to shield you from the dangers of this world, from the cruel games of men like him. I thought I was giving you a chance at something better, even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness."

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing heavily on your heart. "But it didn’t stop him," you whispered, the bitterness and sorrow mixing in your voice. "Even with Acacius by my side, he still came after me."

Lucilla’s expression crumpled, her composure breaking as tears filled her eyes. "I failed you," she admitted, her voice cracking with the weight of her guilt. “I should have sent you and Lucius away.”

Her words hung in the air, a heavy confession that seemed to echo through the silence of the room. You felt a pang of sadness at the mention of your brother, the thought of him bringing back memories of simpler, happier times.

"You wanted to protect us," you said softly, your voice trembling as you tried to console her. "You did what you thought was best."

Lucilla shook her head, her tears falling freely now. "I thought keeping you close would be safer, that I could shield you from the worst of it. But I underestimated him, underestimated the depths of his cruelty." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "Sending you away might have spared you from this... this nightmare."

You reached out, placing a hand over hers. "We can’t change the past," you said, your voice steadier now.

As you held her hand, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over you, making the room spin. You blinked, trying to steady yourself, but the sensation only intensified. Your grip on Lucilla’s hand tightened involuntarily.

Lucilla’s eyes widened in concern as she noticed your pallor. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice laced with worry. "You’re pale."

You nodded weakly, though the dizziness persisted. "It’s nothing," you murmured, attempting to downplay it. "It’s been happening lately... just moments of dizziness. They pass."

Her brows furrowed with worry, and she guided you to sit down, her hands firm on your shoulders. "You’ve been pushing yourself too hard," she said, her tone gentle but insistent. "Rest now. I’ll send for the healer."

You wanted to protest, to assure her that you were fine, but the fatigue and the weight of everything that had happened made it hard to argue. With a reluctant nod, you allowed her to help you lie down, her concern evident in every movement.

"Promise me you’ll tell me if it gets worse," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "We can’t afford to ignore this."

"I will," you whispered, the heaviness of your eyelids pulling you into a restless sleep, Lucilla’s soothing presence the last thing you felt as you drifted off.

The moon casted a pale glow across the courtyard as Acacius rode back into the Villa. His horse’s hooves echoed softly against the stone pathway, a familiar sound that had once brought comfort. Now, with the weight of the world pressing down on him, it only seemed to remind him of the uncertainty and chaos that had taken hold of everyone he cared about.

As he dismounted, he glanced toward the fountain where Lucilla was tending to the delicate flowers growing around its edge. The peacefulness of the moment, in stark contrast to the storm brewing inside him, caught him off guard. His breath caught in his throat when Lucilla looked up, a soft smile appearing on her lips despite the weariness in her eyes.

"Acacius," she said warmly, her voice filled with relief as she walked toward him. Before he could say anything, she closed the distance between them and enveloped him in a tight hug. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, the familiar embrace both comforting and bittersweet.

"I’ve missed you," Lucilla murmured against his chest. "We’ve all been worried."

Acacius hesitated for a moment, then slowly returned the hug, the feeling of her presence grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. The tension in his shoulders seemed to lessen, but only slightly. He pulled back, searching her face for answers, as if he could find some peace in her expression.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice low and urgent. His eyes flicked to the passages of the place, his heart racing at the thought of seeing you again.

Lucilla sighed softly, her expression softening with concern. "She’s asleep," she said gently. "She’s been resting a lot today."

“I need to see her.” Acacius said.

Lucilla placed a hand on his arm, stopping him from moving toward the door. "She’s asleep, Acacius. She needs rest more than anything right now," she said, her tone firm but caring. "Let her sleep, please. You’ve been gone too long. You need to eat something first. You’re no good to her if you’re running on empty."

Acacius clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering toward your chambers once again. "It doesn’t matter," he said, determination in his voice. "I’ll see her now."

Lucilla’s hand tightened on his arm; her voice soft but insistent. "Please, Acacius. For her sake, you need to rest too. She’ll be fine. I’ll wake her once she’s had some rest."

He looked at her, torn between the urge to be with you and the concern for your well-being that Lucilla had so clearly expressed. The room was heavy with unspoken words, the tension between what he wanted and what was best for you both almost too much to bear.

“No. I have to see her first.” He said, walking towards where you were.

The door creaked softly as Acacius entered your chamber, his heart pounding in his chest as the longing and concern filled his. The room was dimly lit by the fading light of the moon, casting soft shadows across the bed where you lay, still deep in sleep.

He moved quietly toward you, his steps light, careful not to wake you. His gaze softened as he looked at you, taking in the way your body relaxed under the weight of exhaustion, your face serene in a peaceful slumber. The sight of you brought a bittersweet smile to his lips, and without thinking, he sat down beside you on the bed.

His hand hovered for a moment before gently caressing your face, the touch tender and filled with affection. His fingers traced the delicate curve of your cheek, as if he could somehow erase the pain and hardship, you’d endured His thumb brushed over your skin, a silent apology for everything that had happened, for everything he hadn't been able to prevent.

He observed you. He watched over you memorizing every inch of a face he had missed you for weeks.

He lived for you, breathe for you.

At the touch, you stirred, your eyelids fluttering open slowly, the fog of sleep still clouding your mind. For a moment, your gaze was unfocused, as though you weren’t fully aware of where you were or who was beside you. Your eyes met his, but there was a distant look in them, as if your mind was still caught somewhere between the dream world and reality.

Acacius held his breath, his heart aching as he watched you struggle to fully wake. "It’s me," he whispered softly, his voice barely above a breath. "I’m here."

But before he could say more, your eyes fluttered closed again, and you drifted back into a deeper sleep, your breathing slow and steady.

A soft chuckle escaped him. He leaned closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face as he whispered to you, his words meant only for your ears.

"Rest, my love," he murmured, his voice full of emotion. "I’m back.”

+++++++++++++++++++

The soft light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The air felt fresh, the quiet stillness of dawn wrapping itself around you like a gentle embrace. You slowly stirred, the remnants of a dream still lingering at the edges of your mind. For a moment, everything felt hazy, like the lines between the real and the imagined were blurred.

As your eyes fluttered open, you felt the comforting weight of warmth beside you, and a soft breath against your skin. For a heartbeat, you thought it was just another dream. Your mind was still foggy, the night’s turmoil and the strange sense of peace from the past few hours making it difficult to separate reality from the dreamworld.

But then, as your gaze shifted, you saw him.

Acacius was there, lying beside you, his presence so real, so tangible that it almost hurt. His features were softer in the morning light, his expression calm and peaceful as he slept. His hair fell in gentle waves around his face, and the steady rise and fall of his chest was a reminder that he was truly here.

You blinked, unsure whether this moment was part of your dream or if you had truly woken up to find him next to you. The feeling in your chest, the warmth, the weight of his presence, it was so vivid that it seemed too perfect to be real.

You slowly shifted, sitting up slightly, careful not to disturb him. Your hand reached out tentatively, brushing a strand of hair from his face. The touch was soft, hesitant, as if you were afraid, he might vanish like a dream upon waking.

But he didn’t. His warmth was solid, his breath steady, and as your fingers lingered near his skin, you realized with a rush of relief that he was truly there. You felt the tightness in your chest ease, the anxiety that had plagued you for so long slowly dissipating in the comfort of his presence.

Acacius shifted slightly, his eyes opening slowly, and when they met yours, they were filled with warmth, tenderness, and something more, something deeper.

"You’re awake," he whispered, his voice still thick with sleep but filled with a soft affection that made your heart flutter.

You nodded, still taking in the reality of the moment, still unsure whether you were dreaming or not. "I... I thought you were just part of a dream," you admitted, your voice barely more than a breath.

“I came to see you last night, but you didn’t truly see me” he smiled softly at you.

Your smile widened; he mirrored your smile. It made your heart swell. You were overwhelmed by the certainty that he was real, that he was here, and that this was not just another fleeting dream.

Without thinking, you leaned closer, your hands trembling slightly as you cupped his face, pulling him toward you. The space between you shrank with every heartbeat, and before either of you could say another word, your lips met his.

The kiss was soft at first, a gentle testing of the waters, but the emotions swirling inside you, the love, the longing, the relief, soon poured into it. It deepened, quickening, both of you unable to hold back the fervor that had been building for so long. Your hands slid into his hair, tugging him closer as if you couldn’t bear the distance between you.

Acacius responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you to him with the same urgency. His kiss was filled with the same passion, his hands tracing the lines of your back, pulling you into the warmth of his embrace as if you were the one thing that anchored him in this world.

You broke the kiss slowly, your forehead resting against his neck as you both breathed heavily, your heart racing. You lifted your head, looking at him into his eyes, searching for the same love dancing on them.

"I’ve missed you," you whispered, your voice shaky with the intensity of your feeling. “I’m glad you are back.”

Acacius's eyes softened as he gazed at you, the smile still lingering on his lips, but there was a quiet intensity now as he studied you more closely. "Last night, you didn't even see me," he chuckled, his voice low and full of affection. "Why are you so tired?" His gaze lingered on your face, searching for an explanation, a hint of concern creeping into his words.

But before you could answer, his eyes drifted to your shoulder, and the lighthearted smile faded instantly. His hand reached out gently, brushing aside the fabric of your gown to reveal the angry bite mark on your skin. His breath caught, his face contorting with anger as he traced the wound with his fingertips, his touch almost sacred.

"What... what is this?" His voice was a whisper, edged with disbelief and a growing fury. "Who did this to you?"

You winced slightly at the touch, but it wasn’t from pain, but from the overwhelming flood of emotions that rushed through you at his reaction. You were ashamed.

"It’s... from Geta," you said softly, your voice trembling as the memory of that night flooded back. "He... he bit me.”

Acacius’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he clenched his fists. He pulled his hand away from your shoulder, his gaze never leaving the wound as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. "Geta..." he growled, his voice low and filled with contempt. "That animal."

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat as the weight of the situation settled on you. "It’s nothing," you tried to reassure him, but the words felt hollow. "It’s just a bite. I’ll be fine."

But Acacius wouldn’t be soothed so easily. He leaned closer, his hands gently cupping your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. "It’s not just a bite," he said firmly, his voice steady but full of determination. "You’re not just a victim of his games, and I won’t let you be."

His thumb traced the line of your cheek, his expression softening with an intensity that took your breath away. "I will make sure this never happens again," he promised, his voice low and filled with an unspoken vow.

Acacius's words hung in the air, carrying a promise as his hands gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing softly over your skin. Without a word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead, a tender kiss that seemed to erase some of the heaviness in your heart. His lips lingered there for a moment, as if grounding you in the warmth of his protection, before he moved to kiss your temple, his touch both gentle and filled with an overwhelming tenderness.

Each kiss was a quiet declaration of his love, his need to soothe the pain and the fear that had taken root in your heart. His lips trailed down your cheek, the soft pressure of each kiss igniting a calmness in you, a sense of safety that had been lacking during his absence. As he kissed your nose, your eyelids, your cheeks, his touch was soft and reverent, like he was willing to erase every trace of hurt you had face.

"You don’t have to carry this alone," he whispered against your skin, his breath warm as it fanned across your face. "I’ll be here. Always."

Your heart beat wildly in your chest, the overwhelming emotions of relief and love flooding through you as you closed your eyes, letting him soothe your pain. You weren’t his to fix but you were his to love.

The way he kissed you with such care, it was as if he was healing not just the physical wound, but the deeper, hidden scars.

As he kissed your lips, a soft, lingering touch, you finally opened your eyes to meet his once more. His gaze was full of such raw emotion, as though he, too, was feeling the depth of the moment.

"I love you," he whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll do anything to keep you safe, to keep you whole."

He knew the plan he had under his hands. He would free Rome from the tyranny and free you from the fear.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as the announcer introduced the key figures present at the Colosseum. The names of the emperors, Geta and Caracalla, echoed through the massive arena, met with cheers and restrained applause. Then came Lucilla's name, and the reaction was thunderous.

"Lucilla, the beloved daughter of Rome!"

The cheers were wild, a wave of adoration sweeping through the crowd. People stood, clapping and calling her name, their admiration evident in every gesture. You watched as Lucilla stood gracefully, acknowledging the crowd with a serene smile, her presence commanding the space in a way that only she could.

Your eyes flicked to Acacius, who was seated beside you. His gaze lingered on Lucilla, a soft, unreadable expression on his face. Admiration, respect... perhaps something more?

Your thoughts were threatening to betray you again, after the accident with emperor geta not even Acacius’ reassurance could take you away from that dark place of your mind.

The thought clawed at you, your chest tightening painfully. You tried to look away, but the image was seared into your mind: the way his lips curved into the faintest of smiles, the way his eyes seemed to curse you.

Acacius was holding your hand, tightly but your skin felt empty. A cold wave of detachment washed over you. The cheers around you became distant, muffled, as though you were underwater. Your heart felt heavy, your thoughts spiraling into the possibility that you had been wrong all along.

Had he chosen you, or had he simply settled for you?

You were lost in the haze, barely registering the sound of the announcer continuing the introductions. It wasn't until you heard your name being called that the fog lifted.

"And now, the princess of Rome, our General Acacius' beloved wife!"

The crowd clapped politely, but it was nothing compared to the ovation Lucilla had received. You blinked rapidly, startled back into the present. Acacius had turned to you, his hand still touching yours.

"Are you all, right?" he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear. His brows knitted with concern as he studied your face.

You forced a smile, though it felt brittle. "I'm fine," you replied, the lie slipping easily from your lips.

Acacius' gaze lingered, his frown deepening slightly, but he said nothing more. He turned his attention back to the arena, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as though to reassure you.

But the seed of doubt had been planted, and no matter how tightly he held onto you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he might not truly be yours.

You weren’t naive, nor blind to the reality of the world you had grown up in. The web of alliances and betrayals, the quiet manipulations cloaked in love and duty, those were woven into the very fabric of your existence.

And now, here you were, seated beside Acacius in the Colosseum, as the echoes of Lucilla's name still hung in the air. You couldn’t stop the twisting knot in your stomach. The way Acacius had looked at her earlier, the subtle warmth in his eyes, wasn’t something you could ignore.

You weren’t stupid. You had always known there was a past between your mother and Acacius, a bond that ran deeper than either of them cared to admit aloud. They might have buried it under the guise of duty, but you saw the shadows of it, lingering in their words, in their looks.

This wasn’t just about the admiration Acacius showed Lucilla in the public eye or the respect the people of Rome gave her. It was about how every move seemed calculated, as though Lucilla had once again positioned herself as the center of the narrative. And you? You were a mere piece on the board, trapped by the choices made to “protect” you, thrown into a marriage that sometimes felt like a gilded cage.

Your mind raced. Were you just another pawn in a game of power, destined to be discarded when your use was up? A part of you feared that Lucilla had orchestrated this entire situation, not to protect you, but to ensure Acacius stayed close, tethered to her orbit under the guise of protecting her daughter.

How Geta looked at you as if he owned you.

The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

"You’re unusually quiet today," Acacius said beside you, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

“I’m just… thinking,” you murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, avoiding his intense gaze for a moment.

Acacius shifted closer, his presence radiating the strength you so desperately needed right now. “Thinking about what?” His tone was soft, but there was a sharpness in it, the concern for you evident beneath the calm surface.

You hesitated, biting your lip as the image of Geta’s cold eyes lingered in your mind and sitting just centimeters from you. "How he looks at me," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Like he owns me. Like I’m a possession."

Acacius’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw tightening as if he were struggling to keep his emotions in check. "He will never own you," he whispered for yourself to hear, his hand gently grasping yours. “You belong to no one but yourself.”

Before you could respond, the distant sounds of the gladiators preparing for the fight reached your ears, shouting commands. The world outside seemed to snap back into focus, the heavy air now filled with tension as Acacius’s duty called to him.

His hand lingered on yours, but there was a palpable shift in the air between you. The intensity of the moment, the weight of his words, and the fear of what might come next made everything feel suddenly fragile. For a heartbeat, you wished you could stay suspended in this moment, untouched by the chaos that was about to unfold.

Your attention also shifted to the arena, where the clash of steel and the roar of the crowd filled the air. A single gladiator stood out among the combatants, his movements precise, calculated, almost effortless. Something about him felt oddly familiar, tugging at the edges of your memory.

He moved with a grace you’d only seen in a few, his strikes landing with deadly accuracy, his stance reminiscent of a soldier rather than a slave. The sun caught the sharp lines of his face for a moment, and for a moment, your breath hitched.

It couldn’t be.

The gladiator turned slightly, and you swore you could see the faint scar across his cheek, the same scar you remembered tracing with your finger once, years ago. Just as he used to do it with yours, the one you had just above your eyebrow.

It can’t be Lucius.

Your heart raced as you sat frozen, unable to look away. What was he doing here? Why was he in the arena, fighting for his life as if he were no more than a pawn for entertainment?

"Are you all, right?" Acacius asked, leaning closer to you, his tone concerned.

You barely heard him, your focus entirely on the gladiator. The crowd erupted in cheers as he disarmed his opponent, standing victorious in the center of the arena. His chest rose and fell heavily, but his gaze lifted, scanning the crowd as if searching for someone.

When his eyes met yours, the recognition wasn’t there, but you feel in your heart.

He didn’t smile, didn’t falter, but you could see the fire in his eyes, the defiance, the unspoken words that passed between you in that fleeting moment. He was here for a reason and it wasn’t just surviving.

The ride back to the villa was suffocating. The echoes of the crowd’s cheers and the clash of steel still lingered in your ears, but your thoughts were consumed by Lucius. You had barely spoken a word since leaving the Colosseum, and Acacius, sensing your unease, remained silent beside you.

Your mother, seated across from you, attempted to meet your gaze, but you kept your eyes focused on the window. The weight of the day pressed down on you, and exhaustion threatened to pull you under.

When you finally arrived at the villa, you stepped out of the carriage without a word. The evening air was cool, but it did little to soothe the fire burning in your chest. You didn’t wait for anyone, heading straight to your chambers, your footsteps echoing through the empty halls.

Acacius called your name softly as you walked away, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t face him. Not now.

Once inside your room, you shut the door and leaned against it, the tension in your body finally breaking as you slid to the floor. You felt tears prick your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet.

Instead, you crawled to the bed, too drained to even remove your sandals. You climbed under the covers, pulling them tightly around you as if they could shield you from the storm inside your head.

Your eyelids grew heavy, and though the weight of the day lingered in your chest, sleep began to claim you. The last thing you heard was the faint creak of the door opening and quiet footsteps entering the room.

Acacius.

He didn’t say anything, and you didn’t have the strength to look at him. You felt the bed dip slightly as he sat beside you. A warm hand rested lightly on your shoulder, and his thumb brushed against the fabric of your sleeve.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice low, filled with a quiet worry.

+++++++++

The night was quiet as you walked through the villa, your footsteps muffled on the stone floors. The house felt empty despite the people inside, the silence pressing in on you. When you stepped into the garden, the cool breeze brushed against your skin, but it did little to calm the restless thoughts swirling in your mind.

It was there, among the shadows of the tall, ancient trees, that you saw them. Acacius and your mother, Lucilla, standing close together, speaking in hushed tones. Their words were soft, but you could feel the weight of the conversation, the tension between them thick enough to be felt even from where you stood. Acacius’s hand hovered just above Lucilla’s arm, his posture protective, and though their expressions were unreadable, there was something in the way they stood together that felt... familiar. Too familiar.

A sharp pang of jealousy gnawed at your chest, but you didn’t dare move closer. Instead, you turned silently on your heel and walked back to your chambers.

You couldn’t bear to stay in that room any longer, not with the questions swirling in your mind, not when you felt so abandoned in the very space that should’ve been your refuge. Without a second thought, you grabbed a cloak and threw it over your shoulders, the fabric billowing softly as you exited the villa once more.

The air outside the villa was cool and quiet as you slipped through the shadows, your heart pounding with each step. The guards were focused elsewhere, their attention scattered by the faint buzz of the city. The path to the gladiator quarters was one you had never taken before, but your determination pushed you forward.

When you reached the holding area, the scent of sweat and iron filled the air. Lanterns flickered dimly, casting long shadows on the walls. The clinking of chains and low murmurs from the gladiators made your stomach churn, but you pressed on.

Hanno, you were told his name was.

But in your heart, he was Lucius.

You spotted him immediately. His broad back was turned to you, his head bowed as he held something in his hands. The sight of him like this inside this cell, broke your heart.

Taking all your courage, you stepped forward. “Hanno.”

He didn’t look up. “What now? You people love seeing prisoners like this, don’t you?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

You flinched but held your ground. “I’m not here to gawk. I’m here to talk.”

He finally turned; his sharp features illuminated by the lantern’s glow. His eyes locked onto yours, cold and untrusting at first.

He stood in front of a prisoner dressed in gold, not knowing the story interlocked between you both.

You said nothing, frozen under his piercing stare.

Hanno stood slowly, his presence sent shivers down your spine, you didn’t fear him but the possibility of him being your beloved brother.

Hanno’s eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down, his stance growing more rigid. The silence between you felt thick, charged with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was low and clipped, filled with suspicion. “Are you the general’s wife?” His words were sharper than the chill in the night air, and they stung like a slap.

You held your ground, refusing to be intimidated, though your pulse quickened at the mention of Acacius. The tension between you and Hanno was palpable, and yet you could sense something else, something more.

“I’m not here for him” you said, your voice steady but quieter than you intended. “I’m here to see the gladiators. To make sure they’re well.”

Hanno scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “You think they deserve your pity? These men? You’re nothing more than a part of this twisted game, just like the rest of them.” His words hit like a blow, but you didn’t flinch, though they stung nonetheless.

He stepped closer, his eyes flicking to the guards who watched from the shadows, before turning back to you with disdain.

“You wear their pain like a cloak, but you’re not one of them,” he spat. “You’re just another piece of property, owned by the man you married. Don’t pretend you’re anything else. You can’t fool me. You-”

He stopped abruptly, his eyes catching on something above your eyebrow. His gaze sharpened, his face shifting from scorn to recognition. His expression faltered slightly, and he took a step closer, his attention now focused entirely on the scar.

“That scar…” he whispered, his voice faltering. “No. It can’t be...”

You said nothing, frozen under his voice.

The world seemed to slow as your heart raced. You had never told anyone about it, not in years. It was a relic of another time, another life before this one, before the crown, before Acacius.

Hanno’s eyes widened, his hand rising instinctively toward your face, as if drawn by some invisible thread.

“Your name is Lucius Velarius,” Tears welled in your eyes as you spoke “You’re the brother to a siste who is stand in front of you right now, hoping that’s is you.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if trying to convince himself you were real. Then, without warning, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his rough hands trembling as they held you., You could hardly breathe, the weight of the revelation pressing down on you. The realization came slowly, but it hit you hard, like a hammer to the chest.

Your brother.

His eyes softened as the truth sank in, and for the first time in years, you saw the hint of a smile tug at his lips, though it was tinged with sadness. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing the scar on your face, as if confirming you were truly there, truly the same person he had once known. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

“I thought you were dead” you replied, your throat tight with emotion.

You clung to him, your tears soaking into his tunic. “I thought I would never see you again.”

He pulled back slightly, his hands gripping your shoulders as he studied your face. “Why are you here? This is no place for someone like you.”

“I had to see you,” you replied, your voice trembling. “I couldn’t stand not knowing if it was really you.”

Lucius’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “You shouldn’t have come. If they find you here-”

“I don’t care,” you interrupted, your voice firm. “You’re my brother, and I won’t abandon you.”

His eyes softened again, and for a brief moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from his shoulders. “Then we have much to talk about, sister.”

+++++++++++++

Lucius sat down heavily on a wooden bench, wincing as he shifted his weight. The dim light of the small cell barely illuminated the fresh gashes and bruises marring his skin. Your hands trembled as you dipped a cloth into a bowl of water, wringing it out before gently pressing it against a cut on his shoulder.

He hissed in pain, but you didn’t stop. “Hold still,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm. “These need to be cleaned, or they’ll get infected.”

Lucius watched you closely, his gaze flickering between your face and the careful movements of your hands. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

“And you shouldn’t be fighting for their entertainment,” you shot back, your eyes narrowing. “But here we are.”

He let out a dry chuckle, though it quickly turned into a wince. “You’ve grown sharper since we last saw each other.”

“You left me no choice,” you replied, dabbing at a particularly deep cut. “I had to learn how to survive without you.”

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the sound of water dripping back into the bowl. Lucius finally spoke, his voice quieter this time. “You know it wasn’t my choice.”

You paused, your hands stilling as his words sank in. “You never tried to come back.”

“I would be dead.” he admitted, his jaw tightening.

You shook your head, resuming your work. “But you are not.”

His hand reached up, catching yours and stilling your movements. “But what about you?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “What have they done to you?”

You hesitated, the question cutting deeper than any blade. “It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, avoiding his gaze. “What matters is getting you out of here.”

Lucius’s grip on your hand tightened. “And how do you plan to do that? These people… they don’t let anyone go, not without a price.”

“Then I’ll pay it,” you said, meeting his eyes with determination. “Whatever it takes, I’ll free you, Lucius.”

He stared at you for a long moment, “You’ve always been stubborn,” he said with a small, bittersweet smile.

“And you’ve always underestimated me,” you replied, dabbing at his wounds one last time.

Lucius's gaze softened as he watched you work, the rough edges of his hardened exterior beginning to crack just slightly. There was something in the way you spoke, the quiet determination in your voice that made him believe, if only for a fleeting moment, that maybe, just maybe, you could change the outcome of his life.

+++++++++

The trip back to the villa was a blur, your mind heavy with the thoughts of Lucius, and the promise you had made to him. As you arrived at the villa, the sight of the grand stone walls did little to ease the tension in your chest. You couldn’t stay in that cell forever, and you knew there would be consequences for what you’d just done.

Inside, the quiet stillness of the villa seemed to press in on you. You didn’t want to face Acacius, not after everything. Not after what had just happened with Lucius, with the way he had looked at you and spoken to you, reminding you of the bond you shared, the family that had once been torn apart.

But you didn’t have a choice.

Acacius was waiting for you in the courtyard, his broad figure standing against the fading light of day, the tension in his posture unmistakable. His eyes, dark and intense, followed you as you walked toward him. You could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical presence.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice edged with something sharp, something that wasn’t just concern. It was frustration. Maybe anger. You didn’t know anymore.

“I’m not here to discuss time, Acacius,” you replied, your voice cooler than you intended, but the fight in your chest was growing.

He stepped forward, his expression tightening. “Where were you?”

“Out, taking a walk,” you said bluntly, not willing to sugarcoat it.

Acacius’s eyes flashed with anger, and before you could even process it, his hand shot out, grabbing your arm with an intensity that caught you off guard. “Where?” he asked, his voice low but simmering with rage. “What were you thinking?”

You yanked your arm back, glaring at him. “What does it matter to you?” The words escaped before you could stop them, frustration bubbling over. “You were busy with my mother, right?”

Acacius’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening at your words. His hand dropped from your arm, but the tension between you both was thick. "That's not the point," he said, his voice colder now. "The point is, you didn't come to me. You didn't think to tell me where you were going, what you were doing. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to go off on your own, especially with everything going on? After what Geta did to you?"

His anger was palpable, but so was the hurt. You could see it in the way his fists clenched at his sides, the way he stared at you as if you were slipping away from him, slipping away from the bond you shared. It was clear to him that there was something more, something deeper happening, and he didn’t know how to reach you in this moment.

He stepped closer, his breath coming quicker now, trying to seem calm, maybe even desperate, hidden behind the harshness of his words. "I care because I love you," he said, his voice low, almost broken. "Even when I’m angry.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, the raw honesty of his words piercing through the fog of anger that had clouded your mind. You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come.

"I don't need your love, Acacius," you said finally, the words slipping out more bitter than you intended, making up a lie you didn’t believe “Your love made me weak, Acacius.”

Acacius froze, his face going pale as your words cut through him like a dagger. The air between you both seemed to freeze, his body stiffening as if the words had physically wounded him. For a long moment, neither of your spoke, the only sound in the room was the heavy, labored breathing from both of you.

His voice trembled when he spoke again. "You think I made you weak?" He took a slow step toward you, his eyes searching yours with disbelief and pain. "You think my love for you made you weak?"

You tried to steady your breath, but it caught in your throat. Your heart twisted painfully as you met his gaze, seeing the hurt in his eyes, the raw emotion that mirrored your own. But you held firm, even as your chest tightened with regret.

"Yes," you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to remain cold. "I had to rely on it. On you. And now..." You couldn’t finish your sentence, the words getting stuck. The truth you refused to admit was suffocating you.

Acacius didn’t move. His face was unreadable, but his eyes, those soft brown eyes that had once looked at you with so much tenderness were broken.

The moment you saw the tears fall from his eyes, something inside you shattered. The wall you had so carefully built around your heart crumbled, and you felt the weight of everything you’d been holding in, your fears, your anger, your pain, all come rushing to the surface. You had hurt him, and the sight of his vulnerability, of the pain in his eyes, made you feel like you were drowning.

"I didn’t mean it," you whispered, your voice breaking as the truth tumbled out of you. "It’s a lie... I’m sorry, Acacius. I didn’t mean it."

Before you even realized what you were doing, you stepped toward him, closing the distance between you, and kissed him. Your lips crashed against his with an urgency you couldn’t contain, as if trying to take back all the hurt, all the mistakes, in one breath. The kiss was desperate, frantic, and full of apologies you didn’t know how to say.

He couldn’t hold back, he kissed you back, his arms pulling you closer, his hands sliding into your hair. His kiss was full of relief, as if he had been waiting for this moment for far too long.

You broke the kiss reluctantly, your forehead resting against his as you tried to catch your breath. "I’m sorry," you repeated, your voice barely a whisper. "I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t know how to... how to deal with my jealousy.”

Acacius cupped your face, his eyes searching yours as if looking for the truth in them. "I love you. Only you." he said softly. "

“Show me.” You pleaded, “Show me how much you love me, Acacius.”

His hands were gentle, but there was an urgency in his touch that matched the racing of your heart. Acacius pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again, this time with a fiercer intensity, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The way he held you made everything else in the world fade away.

You circled your legs around his waist instinctively, feeling the warmth of his body press against yours. His arms were around you, steady and strong, and for a moment, it felt as though the weight of the world had lifted. There was no war, no political schemes, no uncertainty, only the two of you, caught in a moment of raw, vulnerable truth.

Acacius broke the kiss just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours. "You have me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "In every way. I always have."

You could feel his heart pounding, matching the beat of your own. He held you tighter, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands roaming to places that made your breath hitch in your chest. "Show me," you whispered again, more desperately now, wanting to feel every piece of him, to bridge the gap between the broken parts of you both.

++++++++++++

The next morning, a summons arrived from Emperor Geta, delivered by one of his trusted attendants. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, though a sense of foreboding settled deep in your chest. As you entered the emperor’s hall, you were greeted with the sight of an opulent feast laid out on a long table, the scents of roasted meats and sweetened wine filling the air.

Geta stood at the head of the table, his expression warm but calculating. “Ah, the princess of Rome,” he said with a smile, gesturing for you to join him. “Come, sit. Let us enjoy the morning together.”

You hesitated before stepping forward, your gaze flicking to the feast. “Do you do this for all your prisoners?” you asked, your tone laced with sarcasm.

Geta laughed, a rich sound that echoed through the hall. “For you? Always.”

You took your seat cautiously, your back straight and your hands folded in your lap. Despite the lavish setting, there was no mistaking the undercurrent of tension in the room.

“I’ve heard some interesting tales,” Geta began, leaning back in his chair and studying you. “Stories about my dear princess sneaking into the gladiators’ quarters. Healing slaves, no less.” His eyes glittered with amusement and something darker.

Your stomach tightened, but you met his gaze steadily. “I didn’t realize compassion was a crime,” you said evenly.

Geta chuckled, pouring himself a goblet of wine. “Compassion? Is that what you call it?” He leaned forward, his voice dropping. “Tell me, what’s going on? Why risk yourself for men who are nothing more than property? What would General Acacius say if he knew his wife was spending her nights in such unsavory company?”

Your heart raced, but you kept your expression calm. “Acacius has no reason to doubt me,” you said carefully.

Geta swirled the wine in his goblet. “How noble. But I wonder... is there more to this than you’re letting on?”

You forced a small smile, even as your hands tightened in your lap. “What could there possibly be, Emperor? I am simply doing what I can to ease the suffering of others.”

He watched you closely, as though searching for a crack in your armor. Finally, he leaned back with a sigh, his playful demeanor returning. “You are fascinating,” he said. “A woman of such fire and mystery. It is no wonder I love you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you maintained your composure. “I am married to General Acacius,” you reminded him firmly.

“And yet here you are, sitting with me,” he said with a smirk.

You said nothing, unwilling to give him more power over you.

The feast continued in strained silence, and though Geta’s attention remained fixed on you, you managed to deflect his probing questions. By the time the meal ended, you felt as though you had just survived a battle of your own.

As you left the hall, your mind raced with thoughts of Lucius. You couldn’t let Geta or anyone else discover the truth about his identity.

As the feast continued, Emperor Geta leaned forward, his piercing gaze fixed on you as you took a sip of the wine he had poured. The drink was sweeter than you expected, with an almost metallic tang that lingered on your tongue.

You set the goblet down, a faint unease creeping over you. Your head felt oddly heavy, as though the air around you had thickened. Still, you forced yourself to maintain your composure, unwilling to show any weakness in front of him.

“You seem quiet,” Geta remarked, his voice smooth and casual, but his eyes glimmered with something far more dangerous. “Is the wine not to your liking?”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “It’s... fine,” you managed, though your voice sounded distant, even to yourself.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair as though satisfied. “Good. It’s a rare ancient. Fit for a princess such as yourself.”

A strange warmth spread through your limbs, dulling your senses. Your vision blurred slightly, the edges of the room softening. Alarm bells rang in your mind, but you pushed them aside, trying to focus on Geta’s voice as he continued to speak.

“I can see why Acacius is so fond of you,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “You have a way of captivating men, don’t you? Even ones who should know better.”

You clenched your hands beneath the table, willing yourself to stay upright. “If you have something to say, Emperor, say it,” you replied, though your voice wavered.

Geta’s smile widened, but there was no humor in it. “Oh, I’ve said enough. The rest... well, time will tell.”

A wave of nausea hit you suddenly, and you reached for the table to steady yourself. Geta’s expression didn’t change, but you caught the faintest flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.

“Perhaps the wine was too strong for you,” he said, feigning concern. “You should rest. Shall I have someone escort you back to the villa?”

You shook your head, forcing yourself to stand despite the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm you. “No... I can manage.”

He rose as well, stepping closer to you. His hand brushed your arm, the touch cold despite the heat radiating from your skin. “Take care, my dear,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

You pulled away, your heart pounding as you stumbled toward the door. The room spun around you, and each step felt like a battle. By the time you reached the villa, your body was trembling, and your breath came in shallow gasps.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,”

Acacius whispered, his arms pulling you closer, cradling you against him.

“I’ve got you.”

+++++++++++

Tags 💌: (if you want to be removed feel free to tell me. I'm super shy when it comes to tags. By the way I couldn't tag everyone)

@greenwitchfromthewoods @joeldjarin @picketniffler @sptbear @bambisweethearts @immyowndefender @nobodyssfool @behomewhenthestreetlightscomeon @idkwhylou @jasminedragoon @ro-nahime-things @hduuc56 @mamustreads @itsafullmoon @tuquoquebrute @ccmoonshine

#marcus acacias x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x f!reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius fic #marcus acacius #gladiator 2 fic #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus acacius smut #general acacius x you #general acacius

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alfascorpiionux · 2 months ago

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Ascendants: How to recognize them ~ part 2

🦸🧚🏼🧌🧝‍♂️🥷🧛‍♀️

Can you recognize which emoji is which ascendant?:3

__________________________________________

Libra ascendant: these people are the social butterflies and charmers. You’ll find them surrounded by people trying to win their attention. They dress nicely and have a pleasant disposition. They have the iconic “charming smile” that they use to win people over. Fair-minded, diplomatic and balanced are also words that describe them well. Could fall into the trap of always wanting to seem perfect and/or wanting to please people. Depending on other influences, indecision, shallowness and passive-aggressiveness is also very possible with this placement, as they typically want to avoid conflict at all costs.

As body type: look for face symmetry, clear and glowing skin, typically medium-sized body with kind eyes and charming smile. As a native ruled by planet Venus, they probably put a lot of emphasis on aesthetics. This could translate to always dressing to the latest trands, decorating their homes nicely or simply a dislike for messy/chaotic or too minimalistic environments.

Scorpio ascendant: the most characteristic for this placements is “the stare”. When they look at you it feels like they can see the deepest corners of your soul and all your flaws and it’s unnerving. In fact, their very presence seems to add heaviness to any room. You might notice people falling silent when you insert yourself to a conversation. Rather than being charming and agreeable, your aura is intense and commanding. You might make people feel uncomfortable even when you don’t mean to. The planet of death, Pluto, is your ruling planet. You might find yourself faced with plenty of crises throughout your life that will force you to grow or to give up on yourself. You’re sharp, intuitive and an assertive communicator. People cannot help but take notice of what you say. Be careful how you use this power as it can invite lots of hostility if used improperly.

On a positive note, ledership skills are very possible. If you watch out for your overly-controlling tendencies you could make a strong and capable leader people can rely on.

Learn to let go and to open up again.

As body type: deep and thoughtful eyes, a hard stare. Sharp facial features, especially the jaw, a darker complexion.

You likely prefer darker colours of clothing. Black, darker shades of grey or blue. You could dress in a minimalistic fashion or opt for flattering even edgy or gothic styles. Your appearance could also change significantly throughout the years.

Sagittarius ascendant: the first words that come to my mind are “bold” and “loud”. These natives love having space to roam free and explore and are intellectually curious. They crave novelty and new experiences like a fish fresh water. It’s a necessity. They are definitely the friendly people that seem to float from one group of friends to another. Instead of staying silent they will voice their opinion even if they will come off blunt or insensitive. They definitely have a temper that they hide to a greater or lesser extent. Though they are friendly, they aren’t people pleasers and very much prefer honesty over shallow pleasantries. This definitely means ruffling feathers at least sometimes. Regardless of other placements, Jupiter definitely adds a touch of light-heartedness and positivity to this person’s aura.

On the downside, there could be anger issues, a love for drama, messiness or lack of structure in one or more dimensions of their life. Settling down could also prove to be hard. If they aren’t the type to play the field then at least they have high standards and/or don’t like their freedom being restricted or feeling like they are under somebody’s thumb.

As body body type: they could be athletic or if not there could be a fondness for working out/practicing some kind of sport or staying active in general. They are definitely the outdoorsy types so don’t expect they’ll stay cooped up in the house for too long. They likely have an open body language, relaxed posture and an approachable energy in general. Expressive eyes and youthful appearance is very possible.

As clothing, they prefer colourful styles or sporty/functional ones. They likely opt for versatile, comfortable shoes. Bohemian styles or statement accessories are also very possible.

Capricorn ascendant: meet the serious-minded and ambitious folk. Those natives always do more than just complete their assignments. They do them with overwhelmingly perfection. Teachers and older people might like you more than those of your age or you might just feel like you resonate with them more. There is definitely a strict and bossy side to your personality. You don’t like inefficiency, too much drama or even grammar mistakes, for that matter. You bottle up your emotions and let only a few select people close. You are organised and logical in your approach to life. You are always true to your word and people can always depend on you. A dark and sharp sense of humour may be present. You are strong-willed and typically very polite.

On a downote, watch out for your controlling, workaholic tendencies and much like the Scorpio ascendant, learn to be more open about your feelings in general. A more positive outlook on life wouldn’t hurt either. Not everything is black and white.

As body type: you could be lean or have a defined built. A good posture and serious eyes. You probably prefer classic or simple styles of clothing. You might have a preference for formal wear. You like comfortable shoes and looking sophisticated and put together in general.

Aquarius ascendant: meet the gypsies! These natives are inquisitive, rebellious and have a special flair to them that makes them stand out in a crowd. They are social and likely have many hobbies. They could be big nerds or just very good with technology in general. They are definitely the 70 year old grandparents that pick up a smartphone for the first time and know how to use is as well as or even better than their grandchildren. Because, well, “it’s just so obvious. You just click here and here.” They don’t like being ordered what to do and if someone adopts a commanding tone with this native on a regular basis, they’ll definitely fly away or wiggle their way out of any assignment really. Also, they hate being monitored when completing a task. It’s unnerving. Luckily, they usually put a lot of emphasis on doing their work right, even suggesting ways in which to make any project better, more efficient or interesting in general. If they respect you as a leader, they would do nearly anything for you even if that means lots of unslept hours, tears and hard work. The loyalty of this natives is very hard to gain but extremely precious. They can be real forces of nature for better or for worse. It’d be best not to be on their black list.

On a darker note, they could be very stubborn, impulsive and emotionally detached in personal relationships (most of which if due to their cerebral approach to life and/or inability to deal with emotionally-charged situations). They could be erratic and unpredictable and aren’t necessarily easy to get to know.

They are deeply loyal to a select few people and are total sweethearts to them, sometimes undeservedly.

As body type: they are on the taller side, perhaps lanky or just give the impression of being taller in general. They have a youthful appearance and at least one distinctive feature that makes people take notice.They might express their creativity through interesting hair-dos or tattoos etc.

Almost any style of clothing is possible, or a combination of 2-3 of them at the same time. Instead of following trends, they are trend-setters and don’t mind having all looks on them, even judgemental one, if it means their clothes align with who they are deep down.

Pisces ascendant: they have a softer and sometimes ethereal presence. You look at them and might think they are a poet or artist and could very well be right. They might be gentle or soft-spoken. Not the most social but people might just like them anyways. They are empathetic and sensitive people that would gladly give suport and heart-felt advice, only were they asked for it. They are diplomatic and easy-going. They can make friends easily as people are drawn to their giving and kind energy. There is probably a dislike for conflict or tense situations in general. They are not fond of overly competitive environments and having to convince any person of the rightness their opinion is frankly scary and/or overly burdensome for them. They’d rather ignore the problem or you altogether than keep getting into arguments.

On a darker note, there could be manipulative tendencies or lying, mostly as not to upset someone or having to admit a mistake they made in the past. It probably tears them apart as it is but admitting that to another person is a different matter altogether. Mood swings, naivety, emotional indecision, weak boundaries and victim mentality are also very possible.

As body type: soft and gentle features, expressive eyes, fluid movements, ethereal aura.

As clothing, they definitely prefer the softer, feminine or romantic styles. They might like to dress in a bohemian fashion or prefer lighter, pastel colours over darker ones. Comfortable shoes and sporty/homey clothing could also be to their taste.

Hope you guys enjoyed the “how to recognise” series of posts I made.☺️ If there is any placement you’d like more clarity on, I’ll be more than glad to offer my interpretation. I am open to receiving feedback from you and us having discussions on topics of your choice. Thanks for reading!💞

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muniimyg · 3 months ago

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BAD HABIT // JJK

00 | prologue // series m.list

the divinity

there are rules to the universe. constants, like the way the moon pulls the tide, or how the seasons fold into one another without fail.

and then there are soulmates.

for the divinity—the chosen ones, the ones born with a glow beneath their skin—soulmates are less of a possibility and more of a promise.

it’s not just love.

no, that would be too easy.

it’s balance, power, inevitability.

it’s their very being. if they are stars, this is the dust of their very exitance—the very essence of it. only those in the divinity can have soulmates. only the chosen ones can feel it, but the rest of the world can see it.

when soulmates meet, the universe reacts.

auras intertwine, colors bleeding into one another, something cosmic and unbreakable settling between them.

they glow.

when soulmates glow, the invisible string ties them together. being a part for an extensive amount of time leads to sickness. simple symptoms include nausea, headaches, chest pains, and general weakness—sometimes it means life or death.

you

you were always meant to return.

it’s all you ever dreamed of—the palace, the academy, the weight of your name finally meaning something again. you spent years in the outside world, away from the divinity, away from your glow, and now—finally—you’re home.

and you’re ready.

ready to learn, to grow, to embrace your power.

ready to meet the person the universe has chosen for you.

your soulmate.

what you don’t expect is him.

jungkook

jungkook has always known who he is.

he’s a prodigy, a leader, a force to be reckoned with. his aura—golden, commanding—demands attention, his power bending the world around him with effortless precision.

he is not used to things happening to him.

he is not used to surprises.

and yet—

there you are. standing in the great hall, your aura humming in time with his, bright and unshakable.

his soulmate.

his future.

jungkook stares at you, jaw tight, eyes unreadable.

you glow.

context

words

divinity: the chosen ones with auras auras: power / their souls (depends on the context) invisible string: soulmate analogy glow: the glow only happens when soulmates initially meet and only happens when they're in pain or healing the outside: literally the rest of the world that isn't their palace. it's filled with regular people and these people depend on the divinity to keep the balance of the world going (good and bad, life and death, etc)

you

status; born into the 'royal' family that built the palace, that houses the academy. rumoured and referred to 'the long lost princess' as no one in the divinity has ever met you

aura; resistance and immune to everyone else’s powers. you're the one thing in this world that doesn’t bow to the divinity (to be dramatic, you are the divinity)

princessa; grew up outside the palace, living freely. this was because your parents wanted you to see life outside the palace and understand what you'll be responsible for

fate and responsibility; the upcoming leader of the divinity

jungkook

status; one of (if not) the highest of the divinity. he is the one in 7 generations to have this power. it makes him feared and at the same time; so precious

aura; mind control (speciality) but maniplates anything and anyone. from people's mind, feelings, and blood to elements of water, earth, fire, and air. he's basically avatar but emo because...

lifeline; jungkook's aura is rare and often short-lived. the more he uses his aura, his life line shortens. except, no one knows the length of his life line. it's a guessing game for everyone thus why everyone protects him

inspo

this fic has been in my drafts since paraluman and has been posted before (just the series m.list) after literal years of contemplating and multiple crying sessions over wicked (2024) ,, i have reconstructed this fic into something i'm so excited to share with you .

this fic is a mix of wicked vibes, (the anime) gukuen alice, and literally the basic concepts of soulmates (invisible string theory, symptoms when separated from soulmate, etc) and of course !!! mullet jungkook .

to be honest, i'm kinda nervy lol. this is my first time writing a fantasy au and hope to bring all i have planned for this fic into life through the best fitting words and imagery (as you can tell,, i am very nervy as i am yapping thru this) nevertheless, i'm excited to challenge my writing and to mold it into something 10x more dramatic and romantic . i hope i paint the picture just right cos bad habit jk has been living in my mind for wayyy too long . to me, he is the perfect mix of tsundere and gut wrenching simp lol ...

the series will begin feburary 14, 2025 .

all the love,

kimi ♡

#bts smau #bts fic rec #bts soulmate au #bts fantasy au #jungkook fantasy au #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff

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millysastroblog · 6 months ago

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SR ASC in Natal Chart Houses PT.2

🌼SR ASC in natal 7th house🌼:

In this life era, you're entering a phase of deep reflection on your connections—both past and present. Your focus shifts towards close relationships, and you may find yourself investing more time and energy into them than before. This year, it's less about you individually and more about the people around you. You may encounter new faces, or situations may unfold in the lives of those close to you, influencing your experience. There might be a strong urge to reconnect with people from your past or meet potential partners, perhaps through new introductions or serendipitous encounters. The dynamics with spouses, lovers, or close partners are highlighted—either improving or deteriorating, depending on the state of the relationship. You may find yourself addressing long-standing issues, seeking therapy or counseling to gain clarity and balance. For some, this could lead to a renewed commitment, such as getting engaged or finding greater harmony within your partnership. For others, this period may mark the end of a relationship as you realize it's time to move on to something better. Breakups and separations are common, as this energy compels you to evaluate what you truly want and deserve in love. Throughout this period, you’ll also gain deep insight into your attachment style, love language, and past relationship patterns—whether healthy or toxic. It’s a time to explore your emotional needs and how you relate to others in a profound way. There may also be significant developments in business partnerships or collaborative ventures, requiring clear communication, support, and shared efforts to move forward.

Ouestions you might ask:

How do I really feel about my partner?, What impact has this relationship had on me? Am I truly happy in this connection?Am I supporting others, and who’s supporting me?, Do I still love you the same way?

🌼SR ASC in natal 8th house🌼:

With SR Ascendant in your natal 8th house, this year is all about profound change and transformation. The 8th house, ruled by depth and intensity, pulls you into a process of letting go and embracing rebirth. You may feel drawn to confront deep emotional truths, both within yourself and in your relationships, leading to significant healing or endings. It’s a time to face fears, let go of old patterns, and move through loss—whether it’s the end of a relationship, a shift in your financial situation, or the release of emotional baggage that no longer serves you. There’s a powerful need to redefine your sense of power and vulnerability, particularly in your intimate connections. Some relationships may deepen and evolve, while others may come to a natural close, forcing you to reevaluate what you truly need from others. This year, the focus is on transformation—whether it's healing old wounds, clearing out the past, or embracing new beginnings. The 8th house invites you to face the uncomfortable, but in doing so, you step into a new version of yourself.

Ouestions you might ask:

What do I need to let go of? , Am I ready to face my fears?What’s holding me back from deep intimacy? How can I transform this part of my life? Where do I need more trust or control?

🌼SR ASC in natal 9th house🌼:

With SR Ascendant in the 9th house, this year invites you to dive deep into exploring new philosophies, knowledge, and experiences. You’ll likely feel a strong pull toward higher learning—whether through formal education, travel, or self-study. You may find yourself drawn to different cultures or distant places, possibly considering a move or spending extended time abroad. The environments you immerse yourself in this year will significantly expand your worldview, and your surroundings will play a key role in your growth.Your beliefs, whether religious, moral, or philosophical, come into focus. You may feel a strong urge to redefine them, questioning what aligns with your truth. This is a time for deep introspection, where you may reflect on your past life philosophy and consider what changes or improvements you want to make. You might develop a fascination with reading, learning, or engaging in discussions that challenge your worldview.Life events this year may also revolve around achieving significant milestones, like graduating, earning a degree, or reaching a major life goal. You could even find yourself contemplating a major commitment, like marriage, or celebrating someone else’s success. This is a year of intellectual expansion and reflection, pushing you to examine your path and decide what comes next.

Ouestions you might ask:

What do I truly believe in?Am I ready to expand my knowledge and explore new ideas? Should I pursue further education or a new learning path?Is it time for me to travel or experience a new culture?What life goals do I want to achieve next?

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

🌼SR ASC in natal 10th house🌼:

With SR Ascendant in the 10th house this year, your focus shifts to career and long-term goals. You'll be driven to define your public persona and solidify your professional reputation. This might involve launching a new business, stepping into a leadership role, or elevating your career in a significant way. It's a year for expanding your horizons—attending conferences, meetings, and job interviews, and putting yourself out there in the public eye. There’s a strong drive to build a solid foundation for your future, whether through a career shift or boosting your presence on social media. For some, this could mean growing a business or brand online. The 10th house emphasizes hard work and persistence, meaning your achievements will come after dedicated effort. On a personal level, your relationship with your father or father figures may deepen, with opportunities for growth in this area as well. This is a busy, ambitious year focused on carving out a strong, lasting professional identity.

Questions you might ask:

What do I want to achieve this year in my career? What are my biggest ambitions, and how can I take action on them? Should I change my job or ask for a promotion? Do I need to expand my professional network or go out more? How can I strengthen my public persona or reputation?

🌼SR ASC in natal 11th house🌼:

With SR Ascendant in the 11th house, this year could bring a more lighthearted, fun energy into your life, similar to the 5th house vibe. You may find yourself more social, seeking out gatherings, parties, and activities that allow you to connect with others in a relaxed, enjoyable way. There's a strong desire to celebrate life with friends, new acquaintances, and groups who share your passions. This is a time for expanding your social circle, embracing new experiences, and participating in events that foster a sense of belonging. The 11th house also brings a focus on your hopes and dreams, so while you're having fun, you're also building the foundation for fulfilling long-term goals with the support of your social network. Whether it’s through casual connections or organized group activities, your social life can provide both excitement and opportunities for personal growth this year. Expect to be more active in the community, finding joy in the collective energy of those around you. Your aspirations and dreams take center stage, and you might find yourself actively working to turn ideas into reality. Whether through collaboration or innovation, there’s a strong drive to create something meaningful within your community. This year, your focus shifts toward future planning, making long-term goals that align with your higher ideals. Expect an increase in social interest, as you'll feel more compelled to connect with people who support your vision. It’s a time for expanding your social network, fulfilling your dreams, and bringing your ideas to life in ways that benefit both you and the collective.

Questions you might ask:

What new social circles or communities should I explore? How can I fulfill my dreams with the help of others? Is it time to expand my social media presence or network? Am I ready to pursue my hopes and aspirations more actively?

🌼SR ASC in natal 12th house🌼:

With SR Ascendant in the 12th house, this year brings a focus on spirituality, introspection, and mental health. You may find yourself diving deeper into your subconscious, uncovering hidden beliefs or unresolved emotions. It's a time for exploring new spiritual practices, questioning old beliefs, and seeking a deeper connection to something higher, whether through meditation, reflection, or retreat. There may also be a sense of isolation, either voluntarily or circumstantially, as you withdraw from the hustle and bustle to focus on your inner world. This year, dreams and nightmares could play a significant role, offering insights into your subconscious and guiding you toward greater self-awareness. You might feel drawn to distant places, whether through travel or an emotional journey, to explore the unknown aspects of yourself. The 12th house invites deep self-reflection, so you may spend time thinking about past experiences and how they’ve shaped you. Mental health could also come into focus, with a need to address unresolved fears, anxieties, or emotional baggage. Ultimately, this is a time to reconnect with your higher self, finding peace and clarity in solitude, while also embracing the spiritual lessons that emerge from introspection.

Questions you might ask:

What new spiritual beliefs am I exploring? How can I address my mental health and subconscious fears?What do my dreams or nightmares reveal about me? Am I ready to spend time in isolation for self-reflection? What hidden parts of myself am I ready to uncover?

Thanks for reading :)

❁~Milly~❁

SR ASC in natal houses PT.1

#astro notes #astro observations #astrology #astro community #astro placements #astro posts #astroloji #astroblr #astrology asteroids #solar return chart #solar return

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hopeastrz · 8 months ago

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THE ART OF EYE LANGUAGE: your gaze and eyes based on beauty asteroids in your natal chart.⋆𐙚 ₊ ° 🌪️⊹ ♡

«KINDLY READ THIS IN LIGHT MODE!»

CHECK OUT SEPTEMBER SALE: fixed price on any and all of my readings 17 DOLLARS only.

EXPLANATION: If you want to know how your gaze looks like to people check which beauty asteroids you have in aries, conjunct your sun, moon in a very tight orb, or sit in the 1st house since those mainly rule our eyes.

NOTE: should i make part 2?, wanted to post something quick before i sleep as a thank you for all the love you keep showering me with, enjoy and lots of kisses xoxo.!!

SIRENE (1009) on the rising or in aries may give you upturned feline eyes, very hypnotizing gaze, may make people feel very drowsy or they feel very pulled by you.

PERSEPHONE (399) duality queens, you can be the queen of the underworld or the spring maiden with your eyes, you choose to be what needs to be depending on the situation, if you’re seducing someone you’ll wear your most captivating gaze, and if you feel extra sweet you can make flowers bloom just from a single look.

NARCISSUS (37117) you really don’t need anyone’s opinion about your eyes and you obviously don’t care since you’re your own number one fan lmao!, these natives may be obsessed with their eyes and feel like it’s their best feature!, you are your own admirer.

LOTIS (429) and VESTA (4) innocent ans very pure eyes, both asteroids may indicate having a very pure and serene gaze, you can make people fall onto their knees just to please you, and they may feel the need to protect you from evil even if you’re oh not so innocent!.

MEDUSA (149) you can never hide your envy, it’s one of the most prominent things that show on your face, you may be born needing to wear glasses so alas you envy those who don’t wear them, however your gaze hold are very bewitching, and could make people fear looking into your eyes for a long time especially if you’re a powerful person.

SADO (118230) dark small eyes, my sister has this placement and her eyes are so dark almost black looking instead of normal brown.

FOX (16248) may give you a witty and cunning look, almost like you’re always plotting something mischievous, curios and sly gaze!.

PHOTOGRAPHICA (443) you may like to take lots of pictures of your eyes and post them on social media, in some rare cases you may have a very strong photographic memory!.

GLO (3267) obviously your eyes may be glowy, maybe they are so dark that any slight amount of light makes them shine brightly, or actually they are so light colored that they feel like light itself, you know brown eyes once they turn golden? Yep!.

PTAH (5011) may bless you with a strong commanding gaze which can both hold violence and gentleness, you can command both authority and ooze charisma, but also could turn your gaze into a very love sick one!.

PTAH (5011) spell bounding eyes, very enchanting and captivating.

NADHERNA (5089) very unique eyes, you may have Heterochromia or was born with a unique eye condition which made you need to wear glasses, you may have experienced a really unique eye condition and even your eye color may be rare or different!, and you may have some very long lashes!.

LIST OF ASTEROIDS MENTIONED BY ORDER: 1009, 399, 37117, 429, 4, 149, 118230, 16248, 443, 3267, 216, 5011, 5089.

#astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology aspects #astrology degrees #astrology houses #astrology planets #astro notes #aesthetic #astro observations #beauty asteroids #astrology asteroids #asteroids #asteroid

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marsprincess889 · 30 days ago

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The primordial horror of Ashlesha🐍

And a timeless tale

You might have heard that in vedic posts on the internet Bharani and Ashlesha are almost always talked about when topics of femininity, mother nature, primordial feminine, female passivity, raw sexuality and feminine harshness (in any sense) are being discussed. And for good reason too. Bharani and Ashlesha_ two mleccha nakshatras associated with feminine planets (Bharani's nakshatra lord Venus and Ashlesha's rashi lord Moon) and saturated with feminine symbolism, are both connected to primordial, raw, pure power of passive femininity.

I'm going to explore Ashlesha's role in this in a less sexual and more internal context.

Do recommend this for Jyeshtas, Revatis, Bharanis and Punarvasus too, as the themes are going to be familiar to all of these, in different ways.

The medicine and the poison, the monster and the pure angel

To start with, Ashlesha's main symbol_ the coiled serpent, already spells danger. Something is reaching its critical point and cannot be contained, for better or for worse.

Ashlesha's power is vishashleshana shakti ("Vish" means poison, "ashlesha" means control). Ashlesha, having the power to control its energy, power and reactions, learns how to be immune to things, out of necessity.

In a way, Ashlesha's power is to simply have power over things, but that exchange of energy between you and the thing/person you're controlling can be dangerous.

4th house and the sign of Cancer deal with the spiritual/mental/emotional safety of the person, 4th house sitting at the bottom of the zodiac wheel. Being a water sign and ruled by the Moon, it is related to extreme vulnerability and energy flow. Moon is dependancy. Ashlesha's nakshatra lord_ Mercury, is the nervous system. Ashlesha is the very force that binds and connects your emotions to your nerves and their sensations.

Sidenote: Ashlesha is about nourishing(Moon's sign) the nerves(Mercury ruled), Hasta is about controlling(Mercury's sign) the nourishment(Moon ruled).

Those reptilian instincts, that primal awareness and animalistic conciousness that Ashlesha leaves you with are as vulnerable as they are scary. To the person themselves, they have been stripped bare of their defences, and no matter how hard they try to find a way to be safe, it feels like the only safety is in no defence. Building or cultivating defence is not natural to the pure, passive Ashlesha. It requires some kind of action, and any action, in its essence, requires the disregard of absolute receptivity_ the state in which Ashlesha is naturally in (Bharani too, by the way).

Ashlesha is about not lying to yourself about your weaknesses, it's about knowing how vulnerable you really are. In a way, it's also about testing the limits of pain to know how much you can hurt, how much of that pain you really feel and have been repressing, how much of it you can handle. It's about settling in your nature and slowly gaining strength, so that your weaknesses are not really weaknesses, but just parts of you that have not yet reached their full potential. It's not a place of excess, but a place of economy and necessities.

From the viewpoint of the feminine, it's their natural place_ the watery, sensitive, impressionable, pure force. But it does not want to stay in that one place. It's known that still water is dangerous, it's been associated with all kinds of unpleasant things. Being in the state of Ashlesha is like that_ it's like the water that has nowhere else to go and wants to flow (release) with any opportunity to do so, but there's danger there too.

For the feminine in that state, there is danger in staying and there is danger in going.

There is a lot of concern for purity because it recognizes that it needs to move on but it absolutely cannot do so without doing it correctly, or the purpose will be defeated and all the work will be wasted.

Some hate medicine, some favor all kinds of vaccinations. Ashlesha needs to build immunity but it's also paramount for it to feel everything with as little interference as possible, preferably none at all. Purity has to be radical.

So, there is struggle and patience built into them. But whatever they do, in the end, their strength, their energy, their power is growing towards a critical point. It's like if you take a sensation from one part of the body to the other or if water goes from one end of the vessel toward the other_ it's still there, the only temporary relief might be moving that energy inside you, waiting more and more impatiently for that perfect opportunity to release.

So we go back to the start_ the coiled serpent, the dangerous force, the deep need.

In terms of sexual energy, the feminine is both intensely desirous and incredibly cautious. The need/desire of Ashlesha to move on to the next stage while waiting indefinitely to do so because of safety concerns can be interpreted as the desire/need for sexual experience, and the fear of abuse/not being pure anymore. The theme of the complete passivity is intertwined with this nakshatra, as if the origin and rules that were set in Bharani demand to be fulfilled.

The law of nature and the passive feminine are restrictive and suffocating to masculine, active forces. If the feminine does not settle and gain power through her natural passivity (flow, receptivity, being as opposed to doing), then she's at the risk of being annihilated.

The result of Ashlesha nakshatra: "destruction of the victim"

No mention of who the victim is. The point is, that in Ashlesha, a place of dependancy, attachment and control, where everyone is either the abuser or the abused, there is no place for mercy. The stronger one wins.

This is the game of subtelty and ruthlessness_ trying to gain some sense of humanity after feeling like a dangerous, vulnerable animal_ a monster that wants to take, because it's an innocent creature that has little.

But no matter how much you wait, how much you gain, it's all going to turn to poison, unless you can dare to oppose.

To break the chain_ it's a risk, but what else is there to do when safety becomes a cage?

But the smart, calculative Ashlesha knows the dangers, it just waits for when it's strong enough to attack, it waits until it knows every medicine and poison, until it hurts so much that it does not hurt anymore, so that when it faces the enemy, the victim will no longer be a victim, but an opponent, who has been hiding its strength under the covers of fragility, who uses what others called a weakness to strike. Until the poison is medicine and the tears are poison, it waits. But when the milk turns sour and the gentle touch suffocates, it's ready to go.

The tale of Snow White

🍎🪞

Crediting Claire Nakti for mentioning this association in her Ashlesha video

Snow White's story is a great example of how Ashlesha's energies play out.

I'm not going to go into too much detail of why it's related to Ashlesha, as I think it's going to be obvious as I go on, but the key associations are: the pure young woman (reinforced by the symbolism and imagery that her name evokes), the controlling feminine authority, danger, poison, power struggles.

I love the 2012 film "Mirror Mirror", because it does not hesitate to show the power struggle between Snow White and the evil queen. The struggle is depicted mostly through metaphors and/or symbolism in the original tale.

It'd be great to mention that Snow White's tale is said to be based on actual real life women. The first_ Margaretha von Waldeck who lived in the 16th century Germany, died young and as evidence by her last letter suggests (her handwiting indicated that her hand was shaking), she died by being poisoned, and it was also known that her stepmother was jealous of her. She also lived in a town where children had to work in the mines (inspiring the seven dwarves).

In "Mirror Mirror" Snow White is played by Ashlesha moon 🐈‍⬛ Lily Collins, and Evil Queen is played by Magha moon 🐀 Julia Roberts.

There is tiny chance that Lily is Pushya moon but that would only be true if she was born before one in the night, so I'd say she's Ashlesha, especially after observing her.

The beginning of the movie: the queen is sitting on her lavish golden throne (Magha's symbol), dressed in an equally lavish golden dress (Sun's color), positioned above Snow White, who is forced to kneel before her. The Queen is weaving her insults and humiliations into her words that seem genuinely caring at first, even Snow White falls for it in the beginning. That's how the feminine repression and bullying works in Ashlesha_ it's all the more powerful because it's gradual and seems non-threatening, especially to masculine people.

As always, the villain and the hero are determined by which nakshatra is the focus of the story. In this case, from Ashlesha's perspective, its enemy nakshatra_ Magha, is obviously the villain. This theme of "whose story is this" is another display of the power struggle in this transition. I highly recommend watching this film, because for all of its jokes and slight changes, it still retains the original message.

"The kingdom fell into an icy despair..."

_ narration from the queen

Ashlesha's yoni animal is the male cat, Magha's is the male rat, its enemy yoni. As Magha comes directly after Ashlesha and begins the second stage of nakshatras, marking the start of the sign of Leo, together they also mark the first gandanta point.

The Evil Queen is a blatant example of a Magha character, especially symbolically. It is implied and then obvious that she married the king for power and material advantages. Her ego is almost cartoonishly bloated, and all of these qualities are amazingly contrasted to Snow White_ a quieter character, who is naturally humble and subtler, not as direct as the rat yoni Magha.

In the beginning of the film she's dressed in a more golden dress, symbolizing her merging with and submission to the queen, stuck in the helpless state. After she gets the bravery to sneak out into the town, she wears a hooded cape the color of cooler, brighter yellow (more her coloring). When she comes back to attend the ball, she wears a pure white (symbolizing her purity and cool energy, resonant to Ashlesha) dress as her swan (grace, humility) costume. The Queen is dressed in bright red as a peacock (confidence, vanity, pride). That white dress is the one she stays in as she runs away and finds the home of the seven dwarves, the same white as the snow in the forest. In this adaptation, the whole kingdom is in an eternal winter under the queen's enchantment, just like the Ashlesha stage.

As she finds dwarves, they quickly become each other's allies and supporters, and, in a way, it taught her her own power. As she was gathering strength to attack and become the new ruler of the kingdom, she already was a ruler of her new tiny kingdom (dwarves_ her new family).

In the Ashlesha stage there is a separation from the things you were clinging to. At first it's seen as a tragedy, but with distance and time, the individual realizes that it needed solitude. Snow White is forced to run away (because of danger, to literally not die), but she thrives away from the queen (restrictive, abusuve influences). There's another side to this: an avoidant person, aware of its sensitivity, who does not realize how much they crave real connection. Attachment to the "wrong" people and environments and longing for the "right" ones is the issue here, along with the paradox of needing to escape and move on (critical point, built up tension and energy) but risking the much needed purity by doing so (just what I've discussed above).

Since a lot of the time the vulnerable Ashlesha feels dependant on outside forces, the movement is forced, for better or for worse, but it never recoils completely or gives all of its energy away, as it feels like it has to remain guarded.

Snow White learns to fight on her own, with the support from a genuinely nurturing environment.

She starts to wear a blue dress (cool toned, contrasting Queen's gold and red) while she's literally fighting on the side of the Queen's exiles.

When the prince joins her and the dwarves, they hear the "beast" that has been terrorizing the kingdom. She locks everyone else in the hut so that she alone can face the enemy (even though they don't let her), which is a key point in retaining your power in the state of Ashlesha. Her desire to face it alone shows not only the growth of her bravery, but mainly, her strength, as it was precisely what allows bravery for her.

Transition to Magha

There's a blatant display of power from snow white, right at the end, after she reclaims the kingdom (and at the end she's wearing a blue dress with a bright golden-orange ribbon_ finding her own power and embracing it, without losing herself). It's the last test and a chilling reminder that Ashlesha's stage is prolonged, almost never over, and can subtly sneak up on you and defeat you if you lower your guard.

At her wedding with the prince, she's given a ripe, red apple.

"And so it was Snow White's story, after all"

_ the magic mirror.

She gives the Queen her apple back, finally cleansing herself completely from that poison and using it to harm her enemy. Now she's the one in power, repeating the queen's own words back to her.

The result of Ashlesha nakshatra: the destruction of the victim.

The individual moves to Magha nakshatra_ ruling, power, lineages, detachment from the body (Ashlesha is the attachment to the body), and takes their own place on their throne.

...

Gif credits to @tecrystali , @xiaolanhua , @elvencantation .

Pictures are from Pinterest.

Thank you so much for reading 💕

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w1w2 · 3 months ago

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A Game of Almosts

Part 2 - Three Words, Eight Letters

Karina x Fem!Reader feat. Winter

Word Count: ca. 8k

Synopsis: Amid the elite halls of Yonsei University, Y/N and Karina navigate a friendship laced with unspoken tension, lingering glances, and the weight of everything left unsaid. As their world of luxury and power shifts around them, Y/N begins to question whether waiting for Karina will ever be enough.

Req by 🐻 anon

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The sun hung high over the sprawling campus of Yonsei University, casting long shadows across its historic, ivy-clad buildings. This wasn’t just Korea’s top university, it was a symbol of power, a place where the children of billionaires, politicians, and entertainment moguls walked the same halls, each one groomed for greatness. Every corner of Yonsei whispered of old money, of dynasties built over decades, of futures already mapped out before students even set foot on campus.

To study here was an honor. To rule its social scene? That was a privilege granted to only a select few.

At the very top stood as everyone called them The Power Group.

Six women.

Y/N, Karina, Giselle, Ningning, Yeji, and Ryujin, who embodied wealth, influence, and an effortless magnetism that made them the undisputed elite. Their last names were printed on the glass towers of Gangnam, their families' businesses controlled entire industries, and their mere presence could elevate a casual gathering into an event worth talking about.

People watched them from a distance, careful not to stare too long, yet unable to look away. They were untouchable, unattainable, yet endlessly fascinating, a world of their own, one that everyone wanted to be a part of, but no one could reach.

At the center of it all was Y/N.

A girl whose smile had the power to melt even the coldest hearts. She was the embodiment of sunshine, effortlessly charming, perpetually warm, and with an energy so infectious that people found themselves drawn to her before they even realized it. With a heart-shaped face and expressive eyes that sparkled with mischief, she had a beauty that felt both delicate and undeniable. Though she exuded an air of playful confidence, there was a sincerity in her laughter, a softness in the way she carried herself that made her impossible to resist.

Where Y/N was light, Karina was ice.

Karina was the epitome of poise and control, a woman who carried herself with an effortless grace that made her seem almost untouchable. With a strikingly symmetrical face, sharp eyes, and a tall, elegant frame, she had the kind of beauty that felt almost unreal, like something sculpted rather than born. She was intelligent, meticulous, and always composed, a perfectionist raised in the world of corporate dynasties where power was a game of patience and precision.

On the surface, Karina was cool and calculating, her emotions kept under tight lock and key. But those who truly knew her, an exclusive, almost nonexistent list, understood that beneath the icy exterior was something far more complex. There was a quiet protectiveness in the way she handled the people she cared about, a depth to her loyalty that she would never admit aloud.

Yet, even among their circle, Karina remained an enigma, a woman who could command attention with a single glance yet remained just out of reach, her true feelings buried beneath carefully crafted indifference.

The rest of the Power Group played their roles seamlessly, each one an essential piece of the empire they had built. They weren’t just a group of wealthy, beautiful women. They were a force, a dynasty in their own right, each member carrying a presence so distinct yet perfectly in sync with the others.

Giselle, the sharp-tongued genius, was the strategist of the group. With a razor-sharp wit and an uncanny ability to read people, she knew exactly what to say and when to say it. Her words could be a weapon or a lifeline, depending on how she chose to wield them. Effortlessly cool and disarmingly intelligent, Giselle never had to try too hard, she was the kind of person who naturally drew people in, even as she kept them at arm’s length. Her family’s influence in global finance had given her a mind trained for power, and though she often wore a laid-back smirk, everyone knew better than to underestimate her.

Ningning was the wildcard, the unpredictable one, the kind of girl who could go from laughing over expensive champagne to stirring up trouble in the blink of an eye. She was as bold as she was stunning, her confidence carrying an almost reckless charm that made her impossible to ignore. She thrived on chaos, on pushing boundaries, on keeping things exciting. With a devil-may-care attitude and a mischievous glint in her eye, Ningning kept even the most composed members of the group on their toes, never letting anything get too serious for too long. But behind that playful exterior was a woman who knew exactly what she was doing, she was no fool, and she never played a game she couldn’t win.

Yeji and Ryujin were a force of their own, a duo that balanced sharp wit with sheer intimidation. Yeji, the composed and calculating one, had an air of quiet authority that demanded respect without ever needing to ask for it. She was the group’s silent observer, the one who saw everything, always three steps ahead in any situation. Where Yeji was refined and strategic, Ryujin was bold and commanding, carrying herself with an effortless confidence that made people hesitate before daring to cross her. Together, they were an unshakable presence, whether through influence, intelligence, or sheer dominance, they knew how to make people fall in line without needing to lift a finger.

Together, the six of them weren’t just a friend group, they were an empire, an unspoken hierarchy that the rest of Yonsei University unconsciously bowed to. They didn’t need to declare their power. It was simply understood.

Though the Power Group was impenetrable, an undeniable shift occurred when it came to Y/N and Karina.

Their connection ran deeper than the others’, woven into the very foundation of their lives. They had grown up together, their names tied to each other since childhood, their families intertwined through business and legacy. To the outside world, they were simply best friends, a natural pairing, two daughters of conglomerates who had known each other longer than they had known themselves.

But there was something more.

Something lingering in the way Karina’s gaze would hold onto Y/N just a second too long, her normally unreadable expression softening, as if caught in a moment she didn’t want to admit to. Something in the way Y/N’s teasing carried an edge, her playful words laced with a challenge, as if daring Karina to acknowledge what they both pretended wasn’t there.

Their interactions were effortless yet loaded, a shoulder brush that sent shivers, a shared look across a crowded room that spoke volumes, a casual touch that lasted a second too long. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a connection so deep it blurred the lines between what was friendship and what was something else entirely.

And yet, they denied it.

To the public, Y/N and Karina were just two childhood friends, inseparable but strictly platonic. Their names were often thrown together in whispered gossip, speculation running wild about whether they were more than what they claimed to be. But Karina dismissed the rumors with a flick of her wrist, a smirk tugging at her lips as if the idea itself was ridiculous. She was practiced in avoidance, in brushing things off, in controlling every narrative that threatened to slip out of her grasp.

Y/N, on the other hand, never confirmed nor denied anything. She simply laughed. A knowing, teasing kind of laugh, the kind that gave people nothing yet made them wonder even more. If someone asked, she’d raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips, as if amused by the question itself.

But their friends saw the truth, hidden in the stolen moments, in the tension thick enough to suffocate.

They saw it in the way Karina’s fingers would tighten around Y/N’s wrist whenever she tried to walk away, her grip just firm enough to hold her there, just gentle enough to pretend it wasn’t out of desperation.

They saw it in the way Y/N’s mood would shift depending on Karina’s presence, how she could be laughing one second, but the moment Karina entered the room, everything else faded into the background. Her eyes would instinctively find her, drawn to her like gravity.

They saw it in the way Karina’s face would soften, how the ice that usually shielded her from the world would melt away whenever she looked at Y/N, when she thought no one else was watching.

It was a game they had played for years, balancing on the line between too much and not enough, pretending that the tension wasn’t suffocating.

A push and pull, a cycle of longing and denial. A storm brewing just beneath the surface.

Long before they were Karina and Y/N, before their names became the subject of whispered gossip and admiration, they were simply Jimin and Y/N, two children born into privilege, yet seeking something only the other could provide.

Their friendship had been written in stone before they were even old enough to understand it. Their parents, both titans of industry, had long moved in the same circles, their empires intertwined through business, influence, and unspoken alliances. From the moment they were born, their lives had been parallel, two heirs growing up in the same opulent spaces, expected to walk the same gilded path.

Their earliest memories were of summer afternoons spent running through the vast estate of the Yu family, their laughter bouncing off the grand marble walls of Karina’s childhood home. The estate itself was something out of a dream, endless gardens stretching toward the horizon, a private lake reflecting the golden hues of the sky, corridors so vast that their younger selves could get lost in them for hours.

Y/N remembered the feeling of Karina’s small hand gripping hers, leading her down secret hallways, through hidden doors, into spaces only they knew. She remembered midnight escapades, the two of them sneaking out of bed, tiptoeing past their parents’ grand dinner parties, muffling their giggles as they stole sweets from the lavish dessert trays before making their escape into the gardens.

And then there were the quiet moments, the ones that stayed with Y/N the most.

Late nights spent whispering beneath silk sheets, Karina’s voice hushed but full of curiosity as they spoke about the future, about what they would become, about whether they would always be together like this. The warmth of Karina’s head resting against her shoulder, the steady rhythm of her breath as sleep slowly took her away. The way Karina’s eyes, so guarded in front of others, would soften in the dim glow of their shared childhood, revealing something fragile, something real.

Jimin.

That was what Y/N called her back then. The name only Y/N was allowed to use, a privilege she had never taken lightly. No one else, not their parents, not their friends, not the world that worshiped Karina, would ever be allowed to utter that name the way Y/N did, like a secret, like a promise.

Even as children, Y/N knew.

She knew that what she felt for Karina was different. It wasn’t just friendship, wasn’t just the deep-rooted bond of two girls who had grown up as sisters in all but blood. It was something bigger, something unspoken, something that made her chest feel too tight whenever Karina pulled away, something that made her crave the moments when Karina’s walls would crack just enough for Y/N to slip through.

But Karina? Karina had always been careful.

Even as a child, she was cautious, measured, never allowing herself to feel too much, never letting anything slip beyond what she could control. She cared for Y/N, that much was obvious, but even back then, Y/N could sense Karina’s hesitance. The way she would let herself get close, but never too close. The way she would reach for Y/N, but never hold on for too long.

It had been that way ever since.

And no matter how much Y/N wanted to believe otherwise, some things never changed.

The shift came on a night that should have been just like any other.

They were alone in Y/N’s dorm, the warmth of the room wrapping around them like a fragile cocoon. The city lights outside flickered through the tall windows, casting soft, golden shadows along the walls, making the space feel more intimate than it was. The faint hum of traffic from the streets below filled the silence between them, a distant reminder that the world outside still existed, even if, in this moment, it felt like it had faded away.

They had been drinking champagne stolen from an exclusive event earlier that evening, its expensive bubbles still fizzing in the half-empty glasses on the coffee table. Neither of them had really been trying to get drunk, but there was something about the stolen luxury, the quiet rebellion of it, that had made it taste sweeter. Y/N sat with her legs folded beneath her, her head resting against the back of the couch, while Karina lounged beside her, legs stretched out, fingers absentmindedly twirling the stem of her glass.

There was a stillness to the moment, a rare kind of quiet comfort that neither of them ever spoke about but always cherished. Karina looked different like this, softer, more open, the usual tension in her shoulders gone. The dim lighting smoothed out the sharp edges of her face, made her seem almost fragile, almost reachable.

It was in moments like this that Y/N let herself wonder.

Wonder what it would be like if Karina let herself want this, want her. If she would ever stop hiding behind carefully measured glances and playful denials. If there would ever be a day when Y/N didn’t have to guess, didn’t have to settle for almost.

Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe it was the exhaustion of pretending.

But this time, she reached for her.

Her fingers brushed against Karina’s wrist, a slow, deliberate touch that trailed upward until she could feel the warmth of Karina’s pulse beneath her fingertips. A quiet inhale, barely audible over the space between them. Karina didn’t move, she didn’t pull away, but she didn’t lean in either. Her stillness spoke louder than words.

Y/N exhaled softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You know,” she murmured, her fingers still resting against Karina’s skin, “sometimes I think about what it would be like if we didn’t have to pretend.”

She felt it then, the slightest tremor in Karina’s wrist, the way her pulse jumped under Y/N’s touch. For a second, just a second, it felt like the whole world had stopped breathing.

Karina’s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but she didn’t.

She just stared.

And then, as if snapping back into herself, she laughed.

A quiet, airy sound that should have been lighthearted, but felt like a wall being rebuilt in real time. It was carefully crafted, forced in a way that made Y/N’s stomach twist.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Karina said, shaking her head as if Y/N had suggested something as absurd as moving to Mars. Her tone was easy, playful, the same way it always was when she was dismissing something that mattered. “We’re just… us.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

The air between them, once charged with something fragile and electric, turned cold.

Y/N let her hand fall away, curling her fingers into her lap as if trying to erase the touch entirely. She forced a grin, mirroring Karina’s effortless amusement, pretending it didn’t sting. Pretending it didn’t feel like she had just been made a fool of.

But something inside her cracked, something small, but significant.

Because in that instant, she realized that as long as Karina refused to acknowledge what was between them, as long as she kept pretending it wasn’t real, Y/N would always be the one left feeling foolish.

And for the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure if being "just us" was enough anymore.

Y/N didn’t bring up that night again.

She didn’t reach for Karina’s hand, didn’t press for answers, didn’t let herself fall into that same cycle of almosts and what ifs. Instead, she let Karina’s laugh echo in the back of her mind, let it settle like a dull ache in her chest, and convinced herself that this, whatever this was, would never change.

Maybe Karina thought Y/N had accepted it. Maybe she thought Y/N would always be there, waiting, willing to play along with the silent, unspoken push and pull they had fallen into over the years.

But if Karina thought Y/N would stay in this emotional limbo forever, she was wrong.

Because it wasn’t just that one moment in the dorm. It was every moment after it.

The way Karina still acted like she always did, possessive, territorial, constantly hovering, but never in a way that meant something real. She was always there, standing too close, fingers ghosting over Y/N’s wrist, whispering things that made Y/N’s heart stutter, but the moment anyone else acknowledged it? The moment Y/N wanted more?

Karina erased it.

She would lean in but never stay, touch but never hold, watch but never claim. Always there, but never enough.

And Y/N was tired of it.

She was tired of being treated like something Karina couldn’t let go of, but couldn’t keep, either. Tired of the stolen moments, the fleeting touches, the way Karina’s eyes would soften when no one was looking, only for her to turn cold the moment anyone else noticed.

And then came the final push.

It was an extravagant evening, one of those dinners that only the richest, most powerful students at Yonsei could attend. The restaurant was luxurious, private, their usual crowd filling the most exclusive table in the room. The air hummed with quiet conversations, laughter spilling over the rim of expensive wine glasses, servers moving like shadows between tables, ensuring that every need was met before it was even voiced.

As always, the Power Group sat in their usual formation, Giselle effortlessly charming the room, Ningning and Ryujin caught up in some playful argument, Yeji sitting back with that knowing smirk of hers. And, of course, Karina beside Y/N, like always.

The conversation had drifted to them.

To Y/N and Karina. To the way people always seemed to watch them a little too closely, to the way they moved around each other, to the rumors that never seemed to die no matter how many times they denied them.

Y/N wasn’t paying attention at first.

She was too distracted by Karina’s fingers, idly toying with the stem of her wine glass, her nails tapping lightly against the delicate crystal. Too caught up in the way Karina’s knee brushed against hers under the table, just the faintest touch, one that she could have pulled away from but didn’t.

But then she heard it.

“You and Y/N are basically a couple, right?”

It was said so casually, so teasingly, that it shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

Because for the briefest second, Y/N let herself hope.

She let herself believe, just this once, that maybe, just maybe, Karina wouldn’t dismiss it this time. That maybe, this time, Karina would acknowledge it. That maybe, for once, Karina would meet her halfway.

Instead, Karina barely reacted.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, her lips curving into an amused smirk as if the mere thought of it was laughable.

“Don’t be stupid.” Her voice was light, dismissive, so easy. “She’s just my best friend.”

Best friend.

Y/N felt the words like a physical thing. A cold, sharp knife to the gut.

The room didn’t change. People kept talking, the music still played softly in the background, waiters continued pouring wine. Everything remained exactly the same, except for the way Y/N’s world tilted slightly, just enough to make her feel like she was falling.

She should have been used to this by now, Karina’s refusal, Karina’s indifference when it mattered, Karina’s ability to shut down every possibility of them with a single sentence.

But tonight, it felt different.

Tonight, it felt like a slap in the face.

Because tonight, Y/N was done pretending that it didn’t hurt.

She swallowed, forcing herself to breathe through the sting, to hold herself together, to smile like it didn’t matter.

And then, without a word, she pushed her chair back, excused herself, and stepped outside.

The cool night air hit her instantly, sharp against the heat still clinging to her skin. She exhaled slowly, pressing her hands against the railing of the balcony, staring out at the cityscape below. Seoul stretched out before her, bright, endless, indifferent.

She waited. Some foolish part of her still believed Karina would come after her.

But Karina didn’t. She never did.

The next morning, Y/N made a decision.

She wasn’t ready to cut Karina out of her life completely. Maybe she never would be. There was something about Karina, something in the way her presence felt like home and destruction all at once, that made the idea of walking away seem impossible.

How could she sever something that had been a part of her for so long? How could she erase years of intertwined memories, of laughter shared under childhood blankets, of whispered secrets, of lingering touches that never quite meant enough?

No, she wasn’t ready for that, but she was ready for something else.

She was ready to stop waiting.

Waiting for Karina to change, to wake up one day and finally realize that Y/N had been there all along, standing at the edge of her world, waiting to be let in. Waiting for Karina to want her back, to stop treating her like a secret too fragile to acknowledge in the light of day. Waiting for Karina to choose her, to finally say the words Y/N had spent years aching to hear.

But Karina wouldn’t. She never had and deep down, Y/N was starting to wonder if she ever would.

So when she walked into her economics lecture next morning, shoulders still heavy with the weight of last night’s rejection, she didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary, just another dull class, another assignment that barely held her interest, another hour spent trying to convince herself that she wasn’t thinking about Karina.

She barely paid attention as the professor droned on about their upcoming group project, listing off student pairings with the kind of monotonous tone that made the words blur together. Y/N let her eyes drift, staring absently out the window, watching the way the early morning light cast golden reflections over the rooftops of Seoul, painting the city in soft, muted hues.

And then she heard it.

Her name.

Snapping back to attention, she sat up a little straighter, blinking as her professor continued.

And then he said another name.

Kim Minjeong, known as Winter.

The name rang out through the lecture hall, crisp and clear, cutting through the haze in Y/N’s mind. She blinked again, tilting her head slightly, as if she hadn’t heard correctly.

She knew the name. Everyone at Yonsei University knew the name and for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N felt something other than heartbreak. It wasn’t a grand revelation, it wasn’t an immediate, earth-shattering moment of clarity. It was something smaller, something quieter, but something real.

Maybe relief. Maybe curiosity. Maybe fate nudging her in the right direction.

Whatever it was, she took it as a sign. Winter was different.

Where Karina was sharp edges and suffocating tension, an endless cycle of push and pull that left Y/N feeling strung along, dizzy, and uncertain, Winter was easy, like exhaling after holding her breath for too long.

She didn’t smother. She didn’t confuse. She didn’t make Y/N feel like she was standing on unsteady ground, teetering between hope and heartbreak, waiting for something that would never come.

Winter was steady, a quiet presence that carried weight without ever demanding it. She wasn’t cold, not exactly, but there was a kind of measured detachment to the way she moved through the world, as if nothing could rattle her, as if she had long ago learned how to exist without needing the validation of anyone else. People noticed her, but not because she sought their attention, she simply had a presence that made it impossible to look away.

Y/N had seen her before, of course. Everyone in Yonsei knew Winter.

She was a music major, but she didn’t fit the stereotype of an eccentric artist, the kind who wore their emotions on their sleeve, who poured every thought and feeling into the world without restraint. No, Winter was the opposite of that. She was contained, unreadable, effortlessly charismatic yet somehow distant, like she existed on an entirely different wavelength from the rest of them.

People whispered about her.

Rumors surrounded her like an aura of mystery, but Winter never entertained them.

They said her family was old money, deeply entrenched in Korea’s entertainment industry, controlling the very foundations of pop culture itself. They said her parents had already mapped out her future for her, had crafted a carefully constructed path for her to follow, one that led straight to the boardrooms of an empire she didn’t want to inherit.

Winter was supposed to be next in line.

She was supposed to be sitting in business meetings instead of lecture halls, supposed to be preparing to take over one of the country’s largest entertainment conglomerates. But instead, she spent her time in soundproofed studios, fingers dancing over piano keys, lost in the kind of passion that had nothing to do with profit margins or market trends.

And yet, here she was.

Forced to take economics, forced to sit through courses that held no meaning to her, forced to solve equations for a future she didn’t want. Y/N could relate to that.

Maybe that was why, when they sat next to each other for the first time, when Y/N turned to her, hesitated for a split second before offering a small, uncertain smile, Winter simply raised an eyebrow, smirked, and said, “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

There was something so effortless about it, something light, something freeing in a way that Y/N hadn’t felt in a long time.

And just like that, Y/N felt the first piece of herself begin to realign.

Their first meeting outside of class took place at a quiet coffee shop nestled between the bustling streets of Sinchon, a small, tucked away place that smelled of freshly ground espresso and warm vanilla. It was the kind of café that only locals knew about, a haven away from the crowded student-packed chains near Yonsei’s campus, somewhere discreet, somewhere safe from wandering eyes and unnecessary attention.

When Y/N stepped inside, the soft hum of music playing through the speakers mixed with the occasional clinking of porcelain cups, the atmosphere calm, intimate, undisturbed. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic whirlwind of emotions she had been drowning in for the past few days, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to exhale.

Her eyes instinctively scanned the room, and there she was.

She was already seated in a corner booth by the window, bathed in soft afternoon light, her fingers idly twirling a pen between them. In front of her lay an open notebook, pages slightly curled at the edges, an untouched latte sitting beside it, the foam still perfectly intact. She looked effortless, like she had been there for hours, like she belonged in a painting, a quiet scene frozen in time, detached from the world rushing outside.

Y/N approached the table, sliding into the seat across from her.

Winter barely glanced up before speaking, her voice smooth, laced with the slightest hint of amusement. “You’re late.”

Y/N blinked, glancing at her phone. “I’m five minutes early.”

Winter smirked, finally looking at her fully, dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Exactly. I’ve been here for ten.”

For a moment, Y/N just stared at her.

And then, before she could stop herself, she laughed.

It was a small thing, nothing extravagant, nothing loud, but it felt like the first real breath she had taken in days. Some of the tension in her shoulders, the weight pressing against her ribs since that disastrous dinner, began to ease. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

They started with economics, diving into topics that Y/N had expected to be mind-numbingly dull, supply and demand, market failures, the intricacies of elasticity. But Winter made it bearable.

She had a way of twisting even the most boring concepts into something absurdly funny, throwing in sarcastic remarks and offhanded analogies that made Y/N laugh more than she actually took notes. At one point, Winter compared monopolistic competition to a high school popularity contest “You think you’re special, but at the end of the day, you’re still competing with five other people for the same spot” and Y/N had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from laughing too loudly.

For the first time in weeks, she wasn’t overanalyzing every interaction, wasn’t waiting for something to shift beneath her feet. It was easy.

Then, somewhere between discussing oligopolies and price discrimination, Y/N noticed something.

Winter wasn’t paying attention. Not entirely, at least.

Because while Y/N had been scribbling notes in her textbook, Winter had been doodling in the margins of her own notebook, her neat handwriting fading into tiny musical notes, unfinished lyrics scattered between economic formulas.

Y/N tilted her head, watching the way Winter’s pen tapped absently against the paper, as if she were lost in another world entirely.

“You really don’t want to be here, huh?” Y/N mused, a teasing edge to her voice.

Winter let out a slow sigh, leaning back in her chair. “What gave it away?”

Y/N grinned. “The fact that you just spent the last ten minutes composing a song about opportunity cost.”

At that, Winter let out a quiet chuckle, tapping her pen rhythmically against the table. “It’s not a bad song, actually.”

Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Let’s hear it, then.”

Winter didn’t hesitate.

She merely smirked, her eyes meeting Y/N’s, holding her gaze for just a moment too long.

And then, she hummed.

It was soft at first, almost absentminded, a simple melody that rolled off her lips effortlessly, like it had been waiting to be sung. It was unpolished, wordless, but there was something about it, something delicate yet captivating, something that made the air between them feel just a little heavier.

Y/N froze.

Because for a second, just a second, she forgot.

Forgot about Karina, forgot about the ache in her chest, the lingering sting of being dismissed, forgot about every moment she had spent waiting for something that would never come.

In that instant, there was only this.

Only the girl in front of her, singing about opportunity cost like it was poetry.

Maybe this was what she needed. Not romance, not another emotional gamble that left her questioning her worth, not someone who would make her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall.

Just someone steady, someone safe, someone who didn’t leave her drowning in uncertainty.

It wasn’t romantic. Not yet, but for now, it was enough.

Karina noticed immediately. She didn’t say anything, not at first. Not with words, anyway.

But Y/N felt it.

She felt it in the shift of the air whenever Karina entered a room, the way her presence became sharper, heavier, like a storm pressing against the edges of something fragile. She felt it in the way Karina’s eyes lingered too long, her stares colder, more calculating, filled with something unspoken, something dangerously close to unraveling.

Karina had always been collected, untouchable, unreadable, moving through life with an effortless grace that made it seem as though nothing could shake her. But now? Now, she was fraying at the edges.

It started small.

An irritated sigh when Y/N excused herself from their usual lunch table a little too quickly, claiming she had to finish up work on her project. A tension in Karina’s shoulders that hadn’t been there before, the way she tapped her fingers against her thigh in agitation whenever Y/N laughed at her phone a little too much. The sharp, clipped tone in her voice when she asked, almost too casually, "Who are you texting?"

At first, the others chalked it up to stress.

Midterms were approaching. Business meetings with her family’s company had been piling up, leaving Karina with even more weight on her already burdened shoulders. It was easy to assume she was simply dealing with pressure, after all, she was Karina Yu, the girl who carried expectations like armor.

But then it became clear.

Because the moment Winter’s name came up? Karina tensed, she would grip her pen too hard, look away too quickly, straighten her posture like she was bracing for impact.

The moment Y/N laughed a little too much at her phone, answered a text too eagerly, made an excuse to leave a conversation early? Karina would go silent.

Her expression wouldn’t change, not noticeably, at least, but there was a shift, a quiet yet undeniable pull in the air around her. Her jaw would tighten ever so slightly, her fingers curling against the table as if she were trying to suppress something before it could escape. She would press her lips together and pretend she didn’t care.

But everyone knew, because Karina was unraveling.

And one night, she broke.

They were at Karina’s apartment, the usual post-dinner hangout spot for their group. The others had already left, retreating back to their own lives, their own worlds, leaving behind only half-empty wine glasses and the distant hum of city lights filtering through the floor to ceiling windows.

Giselle had stayed behind.

She stood in the kitchen, casually leaning against the cool marble counter, watching as Karina sat at the dining table, staring blankly at the untouched drink in front of her. She wasn’t drinking, she wasn’t doing anything. Just sitting there, still as a statue, her thoughts tangled in something Giselle could already guess.

It had been a week of this. A week of Karina shifting between moods, of her icy exterior cracking, of her usual composure faltering just enough for those closest to her to see the storm underneath.

And Giselle, ever the observer, had finally had enough.

"You’re jealous."

Karina’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing instantly. "What?"

Giselle sighed, setting her glass down with an exasperated clink. She tilted her head, studying Karina like she was a puzzle missing just one crucial piece.

"You’re jealous of Winter."

For a split second, Karina didn’t react.

And then, a scoff. A small, humorless laugh, low and empty, as if the very idea was so ridiculous it wasn’t even worth entertaining.

"That’s ridiculous."

But Giselle wasn’t buying it.

She pushed off the counter, stepping forward, voice lowering slightly. "No, what’s ridiculous is how you’re acting."

Karina’s fingers curled into her palm, knuckles white against her skin.

"You’re shutting down," Giselle continued, crossing her arms. "You’re lashing out at people who don’t deserve it. You’re sitting here sulking instead of actually doing something about it." She arched an eyebrow. "It’s pathetic."

Karina scoffed again, shaking her head. "Y/N can be friends with whoever she wants."

"Friends?" Giselle let out a dry laugh, sharp and knowing. She took another step forward, pressing just enough to make Karina flinch ever so slightly.

"Yeah, sure. Because that’s all you two have ever been, right?"

Silence.

A silence so heavy it felt like it crushed the space between them.

Giselle leaned in, voice dropping to something almost gentle, though the weight of it was anything but. "She’s slipping away from you."

Karina’s jaw clenched. Her nails dug into her palm, pressing deep enough to sting.

She knew. She knew Y/N was pulling away, knew she was tired of waiting, tired of being led in circles, tired of holding onto something that Karina refused to define.

She knew, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to stop her, because if she admitted it, if she said the words out loud, then there would be no more hiding. No more pretending that Y/N wasn’t the only person who had ever made her feel like this, no more pretending that she didn’t want her, no more pretending that she hadn’t already fallen, long before she ever realized it.

And that terrified her.

Giselle exhaled, shaking her head, her voice turning softer, not out of pity, but something else. Something almost sad.

"If you’re not going to do anything about it, then let her go."

Another silence, another wound left open.

Karina didn’t answer, because the truth was, she wasn’t ready to let Y/N go. She just didn’t know if she was ready to fight for her, either.

Karina had spent years perfecting the art of control.

She had been raised to master it, to curate her image with precision, to hold her emotions under lock and key, to never let the world glimpse anything that could be used against her. She was composed, poised, untouchable. She dictated her own narrative, never allowing anyone to see her falter.

Her emotions did not rule her, she ruled them. At least, that had always been the case.

Until now, until Y/N and Winter.

She wasn’t sure when it started, when the cracks first appeared, when the tight grip she had on herself began to slip. She wasn’t sure when watching Y/N with someone else became unbearable, when the sight of Winter standing too close, speaking too softly, looking at Y/N like she was something to be treasured, started making her stomach twist in ways she didn’t want to acknowledge. She wasn’t sure when she started feeling like this.

All she knew was that the first time she saw them together, really saw them, outside of class, it hit her like a slap to the face.

It was in the campus café, a place where she and the rest of the Power Group often lingered between lectures, occupying the best seats by the windows, their presence effortlessly commanding the space. They owned it in ways no one questioned, moving through it like it was simply another extension of their world.

Karina hadn’t meant to notice them.

She hadn’t been looking for Y/N, hadn’t been seeking her out, hadn’t been scanning the room like she always did or so she told herself.

But then she heard it.

Y/N’s laughter.

Not the polite kind, not the forced chuckle she used in social settings when she wanted to appear engaged, not the half-hearted giggle she offered in conversations she wasn’t actually interested in. But the real kind.

The kind that started soft before bubbling over, filling the air with something light, effortless, genuine. The kind that made her eyes crinkle at the corners, made dimples appear on her cheeks, made everyone around her feel like they were in on some private joke. The kind of laughter that Karina used to think belonged only to her.

Her fingers froze around her coffee cup, grip tightening just slightly as she turned her head, too quickly, too sharply, as if drawn by something involuntary, instinctual.

And there they were. Y/N and Winter.

Sitting together in a booth by the far window, away from the usual noise of the café, caught in a moment that shouldn’t have felt as intimate as it did.

Karina’s gaze locked onto them, drinking in the details before she could stop herself. Y/N, leaning forward slightly, her fingers brushing against Winter’s wrist as she grinned, Winter, smirking, eyes steady on Y/N, gaze unwavering, as if she were studying her, memorizing her.

Something hot, sharp, unfamiliar coiled deep in Karina’s chest.

Winter was looking at Y/N like she wanted her. Like she knew something no one else did, like she had already figured out what Karina had spent years running from.

Karina’s stomach twisted violently.

It was too much.

Before she even registered the movement, her body was already reacting, a sharp exhale, her hands gripping the table as she pushed back her chair a little too hard.

The sudden scrape of wood against tile was loud, cutting through the comfortable hum of conversation.

Too loud.

People turned. Her friends turned. Y/N turned and Karina didn’t meet her gaze.

She didn’t look at anyone, didn’t bother to smooth over the moment with an easy smile or an excuse, didn’t try to mask the fact that something was very, very wrong.

She just grabbed her bag, turned sharply on her heel, and walked out.

Not waiting, not explaining, not acknowledging the fact that she had never run from anything in her life.

Until now.

“Karina?” Ningning called after her, blinking in confusion. “Where are you going?”

Karina didn’t answer.

She didn’t stop, she didn’t even know where she was going. All she knew was that she couldn’t stay here. Because if she stayed, if she kept watching, if she let herself sit there for even a second longer, she would have to admit… She would have to admit what this really was.

The next time they saw each other was at Giselle’s apartment, an informal gathering meant to finalize the details of an upcoming event, something routine, something familiar, the kind of thing they had done so many times before that it should have felt effortless. It should have been just another evening spent in the comfortable presence of their closest friends, a seamless continuation of the rhythm they had all fallen into over the years, where conversations flowed easily, laughter came naturally, and unspoken tensions were carefully avoided.

But tonight, nothing felt easy.

Karina sat stiffly in her seat, her posture rigid, her fingers curled against the fabric of her pants as if she were physically restraining herself from reacting, from speaking, from looking at Y/N for too long. There was a restless energy simmering beneath her skin, an irritability she couldn’t shake, an ache she didn’t want to name.

She had spent the entire day trying to push down the lingering unease that had taken root in her chest, trying to convince herself that the image of Y/N and Winter laughing together at the café wasn’t burned into her mind, replaying itself over and over like a cruel reminder of everything she refused to acknowledge.

And yet, despite her best efforts, it followed her here.

It pressed against her ribs every time Y/N spoke, making her jaw tense involuntarily, the sound of her voice feeling too familiar, too distant all at once. It crawled up her spine whenever Y/N’s phone vibrated, whenever she glanced down at it with a small, knowing smile, fingers typing out a response that Karina knew was meant for Winter. It clawed at her patience every time Y/N reacted to something in the room that had nothing to do with her, nothing to do with them, and yet somehow still felt like a personal slight, like proof that Y/N had already begun to slip away, piece by piece, step by step.

She wasn’t sure why she thought this would be any different. She wasn’t sure why she had expected to sit across from Y/N tonight, in the same space they had always occupied, and not feel the weight of her absence in a way that felt devastatingly personal. She wasn’t sure why she thought she could handle this.

But then, Y/N said something, something lighthearted, something innocent, something that should have barely registered in Karina’s mind.

It was probably a joke. A passing comment.

Any other day, Karina would have laughed. Any other day, she would have let it slide, smirked, teased Y/N back, turned the moment into something fleeting and forgettable.

But tonight, her control snapped.

Her voice came out harsher than she intended, sharper, laced with something bitter and possessive, something she didn’t even fully understand herself.

“Well, maybe if you spent more time focusing on this instead of… other things, we’d actually get somewhere.”

Silence fell over the room in an instant, heavy and suffocating, the energy shifting so suddenly that it felt as though the walls themselves had shrunk, trapping them in the thick weight of unsaid things.

Y/N’s laughter, which had been so effortless just moments ago, vanished.

For the briefest of moments, she just stared at Karina, a flicker of surprise flashing through her eyes before something else took its place, something colder, something Karina had never been on the receiving end of before.

And then, Y/N let out a short, humorless laugh.

Slowly, she placed her phone down, fingers deliberate, controlled, as if she were holding herself back from doing something she might regret.

“Other things?” she repeated, her voice deceptively light, though the sharp edge in her tone was impossible to miss.

Karina shrugged, as if she wasn’t bothered, as if she wasn’t feeling the painful clench of something deep in her chest, something dangerously close to unraveling.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. She leaned forward slightly, gaze locking onto Karina’s, the space between them charged with something volatile, something that had been building for far too long.

“Say what you actually mean, Jimin.”

The air between them felt like a live wire, buzzing, waiting for one of them to ignite it.

Karina refused to look away.

She wasn’t sure if it was stubbornness or fear that kept her frozen, refusing to flinch, refusing to admit to the emotion clawing at her throat.

But then, Y/N scoffed. She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, exhaling slowly, like she had just come to some final, quiet realization.

“That’s what I thought.”

The tension in the room grew unbearable.

From the corner of her vision, Karina could see Ningning shifting uncomfortably, glancing between them with wide eyes, sensing the shift in the air. Yeji pressed her lips together, exhaling through her nose, exchanging a look with Ryujin, like they had been waiting for this to happen. Giselle, ever the silent observer, sat back against the couch, watching, waiting, as if she knew that whatever was happening between them was long overdue.

But Y/N wasn’t finished. Not yet.

She tilted her chin up slightly, her expression unreadable, though Karina could feel the underlying challenge in her gaze, the way she was silently daring her to speak, to do something, to admit something.

“You don’t get to do this.”

The words cut deeper than Karina expected, slicing through something she had spent years fortifying.

She already knew what Y/N meant.

You don’t get to be jealous, you don’t get to be angry, you don’t get to act like you have a right to me when you refuse to claim me.

Karina’s expression remained carefully blank, but Y/N saw right through her.

She always did.

Then, Y/N spoke again, delivering the final blow, the one that hit Karina harder than anything else. “You want control, but you don’t want commitment.”

The words lodged themselves into Karina’s chest, burned beneath her skin, left behind something raw and unspoken.

Before she could stop herself, before she could regain her composure, before she could reinforce the walls that had been cracking all night, she flinched.

It was so quick, so slight, that no one noticed.

No one except Y/N.

For just a second, just a fleeting, painful second, her expression softened, but just as quickly, it was gone.

She inhaled deeply, as if grounding herself, as if settling into something she had already accepted long before this moment.

She stood up.There was no hesitation, no second glance, no waiting for Karina to stop her. She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and turned toward the door and before anyone could react, before Karina could swallow her pride long enough to speak, before she could piece together the right words to fix what she had just shattered.

Y/N walked out.

And Karina?

She didn’t go after her. She never did.

#girl group imagines #kpop imagines #gg x reader #kpop x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa karina x reader #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #aespa karina

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astrolook · 11 days ago

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🔆🌞💍Sun As Darakaraka - The Heart Wants What It Already Admires🔆🌞💍

Note: These are just my personal observations and recurring patterns I've noticed over the years from married clients, relatives and friends. Take what resonates with you and leave the rest. Feel free to share in the comments if any of this hits home. This post is based on Vedic astrology.

DK: The planet with the lowest degree in your birth chart that holds your deepest desires for a partner like your soul's "Wanted Ad" scribbled in cosmic ink. It shows the kind of spouse you attract and what your heart secretly craves in relationships.

Sun as DK:

Your partner might just be your twin with a twist.

When the Sun is your Darakaraka, your partner tends to be a lot like you on the outside. Same hobbies, same taste in food, same style or at least similar energy. It’s like they mirror parts of your personality but the way it shows up really depends on what house the Sun is in.

Sun in the 1st house will act super different from Sun in the 12th so it’s not one size fits all.

In general though, Sun as DK means your partner probably takes the lead in the relationship. They might be the one making decisions, handling money or just the one who rules the roost. It can feel like they’re the boss of the relationship sometimes in a good way or not so good depending.

If the Sun has tough aspects like with Saturn or Mars, things can get a little tricky. You might deal with ego clashes, arguments or a partner who’s a bit too controlling. They’ll definitely bring light and energy into your life but too much Sun can burn.

If the Sun’s in a good house or has gentle aspects, most of this softens up and things feel way more balanced.

Real-life patterns I've noticed with people who has Sun as DK

Just because the Sun is your Darakaraka doesn’t mean your marriage will be full of ego clashes or power struggles. It really depends on where the Sun is placed, which sign it’s in, and what aspects it’s making. I’ve seen this in the charts of clients, friends, and even relatives. I always take notes when I read charts, especially to track long-term relationship patterns. Astrology isn’t one-size-fits-all, and I strongly disagree with interpretations that try to make it that way.

Sometimes I see astrologers online sharing overly negative takes that can honestly scare people. That kind of thinking can turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy, and that’s not what astrology should be about. Even my posts about spouse appearance and personality traits are based on general patterns and can shift depending on aspects, signs, and other chart factors.

So today, I wanted to share a few real-life examples to show how Sun as Darakaraka can play out in different ways , not all doom and gloom, and definitely not all the same.

1. Wife with Sun as DK in 12th house Leo Sun was with the North Node and 1st lord Mercury. Her husband is a foreigner and older than her(Saturn rx in 7th). She’s the dominant one in the relationship and earns more than him. She’s the main provider while he’s a stay-at-home dad who takes care of the kids and his career took a backseat after marrying her. Both are super private and share some oddly similar features like a small dorsal hump on their noses, apple-shaped faces, chubby hands, and short wide nails. It’s like a mirrored energy in the way they look and live.

2. Husband with Sun as DK in 8th house Gemini Sun in 8th house Gemini was aspecting Jupiter in the 2nd house. He was married for 21 years but eventually divorced. His wife cheated on him three times. He stayed for the sake of their son but left when their son turned 19. The wife was the dominant one and emotionally abusive. Whenever he asked her anything, she flipped it on him and accused him of cheating. They were both really tall and shared the same grey eyes(some even mistook them for siblings). Both had weak eyesight and wore glasses from a young age.

3. Husband with Sun as DK in 5th house Taurus He was dominant in the relationship and treated his wife like a doormat. They had three kids back to back within five years. They’re still married after 11 years but the wife has major health issues from having three C-sections in such a short time. She told me and my mom that she’s just living for her kids now because she has no way out. He pays for everything and she feels stuck. Both of them have similar crooked teeth right in the middle and both of them likes spicy food.

4. Wife with Sun as DK in 11th house Aquarius Sun in 11th conjunct Venus and Mercury and sextile Mars. She’s been married for five years. Her husband is a foreigner. They’re both athletic types, physically strong, and love working out together. They co-own a gym and also volunteer at animal rescues. They have twins. Even though they’re from different racial backgrounds, the way they smile is super similar. It’s wild how certain expressions and energies can look alike even when people look totally different.

5. Elderly woman in her 70's with Sun as DK in 6th house Pisces Sun was conjunct Jupiter and aspecting Saturn. Her husband was 13 years older. They had three kids and were married for 38 years before he passed away from internal bleeding in his brain. He was super supportive and even back in the 80s, he helped her build her career and both of them worked. He left an inheritance for her and their kids. She was much shorter than him and they looked different physically. But when I asked her some questions to gain more info, I learned they shared the same food allergy to eggplants, both developed diabetes in their 30s, and both dealt with athlete’s foot. Those little shared details stuck with me.

So again, just having Sun as your Darakaraka doesn’t mean you’ll automatically have ego problems or a dominating spouse. The sign, house, and aspects all shape how that energy shows up. These stories aren’t here to scare anyone. I just want to show the wide range of possibilities that exist like from supportive partners to more difficult patterns and everything in between.

Astrology is a tool, not a sentence. It’s here to help us understand patterns and prepare better, not to box us in. Every chart is unique, just like every relationship. And that’s kind of beautiful, don’t you think?

My next post will be about Moon as Darakaraka. Am collecting patterns and my personal experiences from my notes to post and will be out soon!

Wanna go deeper into the layers of your placements? DM me for a complete astrology reading or a 5 year/8 year marriage report or synastry reading🌙💬 and check out my pinned post for pricing + details 💫💸

Let’s decode your cosmic chaos together ⭐

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goofygubegubler · 1 month ago

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𝘝𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘝𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮

Spencer always thought speed was dangerous… until he saw you behind the wheel.

wc: 1k | Cargirl!F!Reader (Established Relationship) | cw: flirting, reckless driving (DON'T DO THIS)

A/N: I’m not a car expert, lol. All the car stuff comes from the internet and my friends. I just really like Charli XCX.

Spencer was always smart, too smart for his own good. He could probably name every part of a car in alphabetical order and recite the entire history of the internal combustion engine, but when it came to actually driving? He was hopeless. Too logical, too cautious, too wrapped up in his own head. That’s why the team never let him drive anymore. Which meant, by default, you handled most of it.

The car show stretched out before you, an electric sprawl of roaring engines and gleaming paint jobs, a world buzzing with horsepower and high-octane dreams. Floodlights bathed the lot in a hazy glow, illuminating the neon accents of modified muscle cars, JDM legends, and sleek European imports. The scent of gasoline mixed with the smoky burn of tires gripping pavement, a perfume only the truly devoted could appreciate. The energy was infectious—crowds gathered around rev battles, lowriders bounced to the bass of thumping speakers, and somewhere in the distance, an engine howled as it redlined.

You fit in here. Spencer did not.

Tall, lanky, and cardigan-clad, he looked comically out of place among the leather-clad gearheads and tattooed speed junkies. His sharp eyes scanned the chaos, analyzing instead of absorbing, cataloging details like he was constructing a profile. He missed the way half the crowd’s attention flickered toward you—or more specifically, toward what you had brought to the table.

Your car.

A baby-blue Nissan Skyline GT-R R34, parked like royalty among the other machines, its low stance and aggressive lines demanding respect. The twin-turbocharged RB26 engine under the hood could humble nearly anything here, and the fine-tuned suspension made every turn feel like slicing through silk. This wasn’t just a car; it was an extension of you—precision, control, and raw power wrapped in Japanese engineering. It was more than just a machine; it was a statement. And right now, every set of eyes in a five-car radius was drinking it in, along with you.

“I still don’t understand the appeal,” Spencer muttered, arms crossed as he watched a guy in a Mustang peel out of the lot, tires screaming against the pavement. “It’s inefficient. Reckless.”

You smirked, twirling your keys between your fingers. “Get in, genius.”

He blinked. “I—what?”

“Not driving. Watching.” You nodded toward the passenger seat. “Unless you wanna stand here looking like an undercover narc while I have all the fun.”

Spencer scoffed. “I do not look like a narc.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting your gaze drift over his cardigan and neatly pressed slacks. “Debatable.”

He frowned, glancing at the car and then back at you. “I should mention that statistically, high-speed driving significantly increases the risk of serious injury. And street racing—if that’s what this is—is highly illegal in most states.”

You rolled your eyes. “Spence, you recite crime statistics like it’s bedtime poetry. Just get in.”

He remained firmly rooted to the pavement. “The probability of an accident increases exponentially depending on variables like road conditions, driver fatigue, and vehicular modifications. And I don’t trust other people’s driving as a rule.”

You sighed, stepping closer, your voice dipping into something softer. “You trust me, though, right?”

Spencer opened his mouth, hesitated, then exhaled. “Yes… unfortunately.”

“Then get in.”

Muttering something about terrible ideas, he climbed into the passenger seat with the careful precision of a man stepping onto a landmine. You settled into the driver’s seat, fingers curling over the wheel like it was a part of you. The leather felt familiar beneath your grip, and the weight of the car was a reassuring presence.

With a flick of your wrist, the engine roared to life.

Spencer flinched at the deep, guttural growl, glancing at you like he was reassessing every life decision that had led him to this moment. “That’s… loud.”

“That’s precision and engineering at its finest.” You grinned, shifting into first and punching the gas.

The Skyline surged forward, the twin turbos spooling as you launched into the night. Spencer barely had time to exhale before you threaded effortlessly through the crowd, dodging slow-moving cars and pedestrians with the precision of a surgeon. His hand shot to the grab handle above his door, fingers locking around it in a white-knuckled grip.

“Jesus Christ—”

You laughed, the adrenaline hitting like a drug. The speedometer climbed, the engine purred, and the crowd turned, drawn by the sound and spectacle. You caught sight of an open stretch of pavement and seized it, shifting up and throwing the car into a perfect drift, tires screaming in protest as smoke curled behind you like a signature.

Spencer made a noise—somewhere between panic and awe. “That was a 78-degree angle. How did you—”

“Math, right?” You winked, counter-steering effortlessly before slamming the gas again, whipping into a flawless figure-eight maneuver. The crowd erupted into cheers.

Spencer, for once in his life, was speechless.

As the car rolled to a smooth, controlled stop, he exhaled sharply, pushing his hair back as if he needed to process physically what had just happened.

“I never thought I’d date someone so…” He gestured vaguely, eyes flicking between you and the car, his brain still buffering. “Cool.”

You grinned, tapping the wheel, letting the moment hang between you. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

His gaze lingered, admiration bleeding into something deeper—something he wasn’t used to feeling so openly. Then, like he couldn’t believe his own choices, he shook his head, a slow, incredulous smile creeping onto his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, you really do.”

Then, as if something in him short-circuited, he adjusted his seatbelt, leaned back, and—God help him—let out a breath like he was about to do something reckless. “You know, statistically, since we’ve already engaged in one high-risk activity tonight, our odds of catastrophe won’t necessarily increase if we do another.”

Your brows lifted. “Spence, did you just nerd your way into encouraging bad decisions?”

He smirked, that rare, too-clever-for-his-own-good smirk, the kind that made your stomach flip. “I’m just saying, we could go home now. Or…” He tilted his head toward the open lot, where the crowd still watched, electric with anticipation. “You could drive. For science.”

You hummed, revving the engine, letting the growl of the Skyline fill the air. “For science, huh?”

“For science,” he confirmed smoothly, then, with a glint in his eyes that was far too suggestive for a man who once complained about the impracticality of sports cars, he added, “Besides, the adrenaline rush is known to heighten cognitive function and—other physical responses.”

You shot him a knowing look. “Spencer, did you just try to make driving fast sound horny?”

He cleared his throat, cheeks going the faintest shade of pink, but he held your gaze. “I’m simply stating observable effects.”

You grinned, shifting into gear and letting the anticipation stretch just a second longer before slamming the gas, sending you both rocketing into the night.

And this time, when Spencer laughed—low, breathless, exhilarated—it wasn’t just because of the speed.

It was because of you.

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priyajoyy · 19 days ago

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Devil wears prada part 2

Dark!lottie Matthews x reader x dark!shauna shipman x dark!jackie taylor x dark!natalie scatorcio

this is just a bunch of story building cause if I fit meeting Lottie into this part it would be way too long im sorry

Warnings:

Dark characters, power imbalance, toxic workplace, mental health problems, fat shaming, beauty standards, etc (more in later parts)

“Now you’ll technically be reporting to me, I’m situated on the 24thth floor where you’ll spend most of your time, though it really depends on where you’re needed” Mari told you as she guided you towards the elevator once again.

You’d viewed the offices on the 15th floor, which Mari had told you, you would sometimes need to go to on the odd occasion. You were now on your way up to one of the higher floors.

“If you need anything you can come to me, though the other secretaries are very friendly so I’m sure they’ll be happy to help.” She continued, “you report to anyone above you really, you’re not anyone’s personal assistant so they can all use you when necessary”

The elevator dings and the doors finally open. And Mari wastes no time, walking straight through the offices.

“The likelihoods are you’ll only be dealing with lower-level management, because the others have their own girls for their important stuff so it will never be anything too difficult.”

Everyone was dressed so nicely; you were certain you were going to have to splurge on a new wardrobe of much nicer workwear when you got home.

“Miss taylor is in the big corner office of this floor and Mr Martinez is in the other corner, they’re the ones you’re most likely to be working with. Well, more likely their personal secretaries, Laura lee and robin” she tells you.

“This is miss Taylors office” she says as you reach one of the roomier ones, with fancy glass walls and a desk in front of it with a blonde sat at it.

“This is Laura lee, Laura lee this is the new hire, miss y/n y/l/n” Mari told the girl, who smiled at you brightly in return, standing to shake your hand.

“Hi!” she says cheerfully, she seemed like the nicest person you’d met here yet.

“Laura lee here deals with all of miss Taylors stuff, her personal Calander, meetings and such, you’ll have access to most of the head execs calendars on the system, though you won’t be able to adjust anything, so if you do need to, bring it up with Laura lee here” Mari tells you, and you nod along, trying to take mental note of all the information she tells you.

She then takes off in another direction, not so much as saying goodbye to Laura lee, who you quickly chuck a wave before trailing after Mari.

The older woman’s heels click against the floor as you both make your way back towards the main area of the floor, leading you towards a trio of desks that greeted you as you exited the elevator.

“And this will be your desk” she told you, gesturing the empty one of the three in front of you, “feel free to organise it however you want but we like to keep work areas clear and uncluttered at all times so please don’t…mess it up”

You weren’t really sure what you’d have to go on it other than some pens, a notepad and your laptop, but you nodded along to her request anyway.

“you’ll start officially on Monday, I’ll send you over some of our policies I need you to look over and sign, I’ll also send you everything else you need to know, attire rules, scheduling, so on” she listed off, to which you yet again nodded along to.

As soon as you got home, you were already scowering online sites for new clothes. Given you hadn’t been paid yet it was a little tricky to get anything too expensive, so you had to settle for some simpler choices. Though you were sure you’d have another search on your next payday.

You friend, insisted on taking you shopping that weekend, dragging you along to a million stores to try on expensive outfits and shoes you could barely walk in.

You weren’t exactly a hater of fashion. You thought you looked pretty presentable from day to day. But you were definitely used to much simpler clothes, more comfortable and plainer. Definitely not the designer blouses and skirts she had you trying on and buying.

By the end of it, you had a collection of new clothes in your wardrobe or on the way, and a dangerously low bank account, verging on entering your overdraft.

By Sunday you’d already planned out your outfits for the week, ironed all of them to perfection and prepped your lunch for Monday and Tuesday. Knowing you didn’t have the money after your little shopping spree to be buying lunch, even if it did make you look a little silly…

By the end of it you were running out of things to so and prep really for the week to take your mind off the nerves you were feeling. So, you spent the time trying to forget and watching tv, failing miserably at both.

Mari had sent you a collection of emails as soon as you had left on Friday. Consisting of your contracts as well as log ins to different systems and lists of responsibilities.

You’re main role was helping guests and staff from other departments from the front desk of the floor you’d be at. Greeting them and helping with their problems. You were glad you weren’t likely to have to interact with the head management often. The idea of dealing with them seeming terrifying.

“morning” you squeaked out nervously to the girl at the front desk yet again, this time a different girl greeting you, seeming more friendly than the one you had encountered last week.

You had worn something nicer for your first proper day, a smart looking grey pencil skirt and light pink blouse with your nicest shoes, trying to make a good impression. Yet you still felt inferior stood in front of the gorgeous ginger sat at the front desk.

“Um I’m y/n? Mari Ibarra said you’d be expecting me for a keycard…” you told her nervously, to which she nodded and looked at her computer.

“of course,” she said with a reassuring smile, looking back up and standing to turning to grab something from a draw nearby, “this will get you into the building each morning and activate the elevator to take you to all floors except 7 and 15, they don’t require special access”

She hands you a grey lanyard, with a keycard hanging from it, a picture of you and your name and info staring back at you from it.

“you’ll also need it for photocopying, printing and such, you won’t tend to need to access any special rooms, or anything so don’t worry too much, but any you do need to…and have access to, will open with this too” she continues.

You nod along to her, taking it from her grasp and smiling nervously. She must have noticed your nerves because she continued.

“don’t be nervous, it’s all quite easy really, and the girls upstairs are nice enough” she tells you, a pretty tilt to her head as she does, “you should head up now, Mari will be waiting for you on the 24th floor”

Taglist:

@theoreticalfreak @nats-w1fe @clairvoyantstuff @modernvenuss @moonyxstars

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pietropatrol · 10 months ago

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The Love You Want (Part 2/2)

Read Part 1

Pietro Maximoff was a great teammate and a great "friends with benefits." That was, until you fell for him but he started to push you away. Now he was just a teammate with benefits. A charity gala put on by Tony causes tension between you and the speedster. Why is he so upset anyway?

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warnings: sexual content, pining idiots, language, angst, past trauma, jealousy

Words: 3,359

The prestigious doctors Tony had wanted you to schmooze were an easy conversation for two reasons.

One being you were a medical professional yourself. You were just a nurse practitioner in terms of your degree, but they were curious about how you used it in the field as an Avenger. Two, you were a walking medical miracle.

The serum had made you not only able to let your body heal itself, but heal others. Though the latter was to a certain extent and you had learned that the hard way.

The rule now was to stabilize with your powers if necessary, then treat medically until out of combat. Your powers could be depleted if you used them extensively on others, to the point your body is unable to heal yourself.

Bucky slid up to your side with another drink after a few minutes. He inclined his head to you and you nodded in return.

You would be okay… eventually. Would your heartache last for a few months? Yes. Pietro had been a fixation in your life for the last 2 years. You had never even entertained the thought of trying to be with someone else, officially or casually.

Why would you? You trusted no one outside of your team. At the rate it took to trust someone, it would be a decade before you’d be able to even try. You’d probably have to up your therapy sessions now too.

When the band started up after their break, Bucky excused the pair of you and pulled you over to the dance floor.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

You shrugged, trying to ignore the sting returning to your eyes. “I basically told him I loved him, and then I broke it off.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No, he didn’t seem to know what to say.” Your voice was tight. “And when he did, I kept spewing my feelings at him. Like if I didn’t get it all out it was going to eat me alive.”

“And how do you feel now?” Bucky glanced over your shoulder, face neutral at whoever he made eye contact with.

“Is it pathetic of me to feel empty? How could I become so dependent on him? After everything that’s happened to me?”

Bucky’s gaze softened on you. “Y/N, you’re not pathetic. You love Pietro, and he isn’t your ex. It’s okay that you are attached to him.”

You hummed in response, not knowing what else to say.

“I am going to give you my observation, okay? Pietro loves you too.”

You started to disagree.

Bucky shook his head. “He has been stalking you since the moment you came back out here. His eyes have not left you. I’ve been watching him circle this atrium, ignore his date, and try to approach you multiple times.”

“I told you, he’s possessive.”

“Why would he be if he didn’t love you? Sure, some other men out there may be possessive without love, but I’ve seen how protective he is of you too. On missions, he’s not ever far from you. And, I bet if I start putting the moves on you again he’s going to stop being a scared-cat and finally come over here.”

“I’m just that good in bed is all, he doesn’t want to lose that,” you joked, though the words sounded hollow to your ears.

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled you in closer as he dipped his heads towards you.

You didn’t even have time to pull your head back as you were swept into the arms of Pietro and on the other side of the dance floor.

Bucky gave you a look that was clearly an ‘I told you so’ and went back to the bar.

“I don’t share, Y/N. I’ve told you this,” Pietro growled and it made your knees weak. Why was him being a possessive asshole hot to you?

“And I thought I told you it was best for us to end whatever this is?” You gave him a pointed look.

“So you jump right on the next available teammate?”

“Sure, that’s what that was,” you spat. “Bucky is my new fuck buddy.”

Pietro paused from leading you around the dance floor and narrowed his eyes in on you, searching for something.

You stuck your chin out at him and didn’t speak a word. He could be the one to determine if that was true or not. If that was what he thought of you, so be it.

“I’m selfish,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been selfish with you and I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Saying for everything would be an easy out, but you deserve more than that.” His hand delicately curled into your waist. Your instincts screamed to move closer to him, to create more contact.

“You can start with bringing my own personal nemesis to this event, and starving me beforehand. I can’t scarf down the hors d’oeuvres without worrying I am going to end up on the ‘don’t’ section of their ‘Do’s and Don’ts’ column,” you replied, throwing a glare at Sierra who was already glaring at you.

“You may end up in that section anyway for stealing her date.” He grinned teasingly down at you and your heart raced. It felt friendly in a way it hadn’t been for a long time.

“Her date actually stole me from mine, why do they always blame women for men’s actions?” You scowled.

“Are you really here with Barnes officially?”

“I would ask you the same thing about Lineheart, but I saw you physically recoil from her.” You rose your eyebrows at him.

He had the decency to appear a little bit guilty. “I’m sorry for bringing her to get a rise out of you. I now realize what a bad idea that was.”

“Wow, an apology and confession.”

“Are you really here with Barnes?” Pietro insisted on knowing.

“Well considering you made it so I would not remember this event was coming up—”

“I’m only half-sorry for that. The second half that is, when I didn’t remind you. The initial distraction I am quite proud of.” He cocked his head at you, watching the heat spread up your neck and cheeks.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts. “No, I’m not here with Bucky. He found me while I was avoiding you and offered to help make you jealous.”

The flash of relief was apparent in Pietro’s eyes. “Because it looked very convincing.”

“Well, that is part of our jobs some days. Acting convincing. You and I have done it many times before.”

The pair of you had done a few undercover missions that required you to be a couple. It was usually the most fun you had doing a job.

“Yeah, but I like to think it’s because we have something real going on too.” Pietro’s thumb started stroking your side, making it difficult to not melt into him.

“I’m sure it helped for you, as apparently you are terrible at acting. But it was all a show to make you jealous. Which is immature, I know. But fight fire with fire. It got the point across didn’t it?”

“Were you jealous?” Pietro asked, spinning you around again.

“Truthfully, no.” You frowned and he frowned back at you. “I was more hurt than anything, and then I knew you were trying to make me jealous so I was pissed off.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Why would you even want me to be jealous, Pietro? It’s not like I’ve been the one pushing you away,” you said sharply.

Pietro sighed and pulled you off the dance floor. “Can we go talk somewhere more quiet? I’ve fucked up this all up, and I don’t want to cross our wires wrong anymore.”

“Yeah, I know a place.”

****

“How did you know about this?” Pietro glanced around the rooftop garden, empty and off limits for this event.

“I attended a S.H.I.E.L.D. event here a lifetime ago.” You took a swig from the bottle of champagne you stole from the kitchen on the way.

Last time you had been up here, your parents and ex were in attendance and everything was seemingly perfect. Your ex was still a secret hydra agent the whole time after all.

“I hope it was a happy time.”

“If I forget all that happened after, sure,” you said with a small laugh and handed the bottle to Pietro, who graciously accepted. “Not that I would want too, completely,” you added quietly.

“Y/N,” he started, turning to face you. You still looked out over the city, unsure and scared of what was going to be said. “I wish I could take back this last year.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as an ache started to spread across through your chest.

“After I am almost died for the second time in my life, I got scared for many reasons. And I didn’t handle it well. Do you know why I got hurt?”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice at that moment.

“I hesitated between you and Wanda. It took me a day or two to figure that out. I was going for Wanda but then I saw a gun on you and I changed course.”

“I would have been fine,” you assured him. “I was fine.”

“Which scared me even more. I know you will be fine 99% of the time. But in that moment all I could think about was protecting you. That what if that time it was the 1% of the time you wouldn’t be fine?”

“Unlikely, but I get that.” You turned to him and met his intense gaze. “There is a 75% chance you’ll be fine, but that 25% feels so much bigger.”

Pietro nodded and continued, “In that moment, you became more of a priority than Wanda, and that scared me. It still scares me. She has been my priority since we were children, but you overroad that. It felt like I betrayed her.”

“Is that why she’s been mad at me since then?” You frowned. It had been hard to lose the close relationship with Wanda while Pietro was also pushing you away.

“No. She’s mad at your for not breaking it off with me after I started pushing you away. She thinks you deserved better.”

“The both of you are terrible at communication,” you mused, and turned back to look over the city.

“Which brings me to also why I’ve been ass.” Pietro took a deep breath.

“An astronomical ass,” you agreed.

“Astronomical, yes. What scares me the most is loving you and losing you.” Your gaze snapped back to him, dumbfounded. “I thought that if I just pushed you away enough, I would never have to risk feeling that. I tried to quit you cold turkey, but I’m selfish and can’t go a week without your touch. I’m so selfish that I don’t want—”

“Wait—”

“To see you with any other man. I don’t want another man to even—”

“Pietro, wait—”

“touch or flirt with you. But I realize now, I was going to lose you even more if I pushed you away. I love you and I hurt you, and I’m so—”

You covered his mouth with your hand, stunning him into silence. “You love me?”

His quirked an eyebrow at you and pulled your hand away from his mouth. “Yes, I love you. What little I had of you was the only thing keeping me sane. But it was also driving me insane. It was torture to leave you abruptly every time when all I wanted to do was burrow further into you and never leave.”

A shudder ran up your spine and Pietro smirked. You were simultaneously relieved, joyful, and annoyed at the same time at that look.

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” You smacked his shoulder. “When has pretending not to love someone ever worked? We’ve watched movies together where the hero hurts the love interest to protect them, and it doesn’t work.”

“Well, those love interests weren’t also superheroes,” Pietro defended himself.

“Do superheroes not also have feelings?”

Pietro rolled his eyes. “Like you said, I’m an idiot.”

“A fucking idiot,” you corrected.

“You make me one, honestly,” he chuckled and reached out to caress your cheek. “But it was more than a selfish decision too. Just so you know.” His thumbs brushed your cheek bones, leaving trails of tingling skin. “I got hurt and then you got hurt trying to help me. I thought pulling away would stop whatever we had going on and you would be safe if you were less inclined to save my ass.”

“It was my decision to make!” you said, letting your annoyance penetrate every syllable.

“Yes, but we didn’t know at the time that your powers can be drained. You may have been less likely to jump straight into a line of fire if I got hurt again.”

“You’ve watched too many hero movies now that I think about it. So much so that you think like the hero. Doubting how stubborn the love interest is.” You narrowed your eyes at his amused expression. “Not realizing that as strongly as the hero feels for the love interest, the love interest feels just as much. That she would crawl through broken glass to save the hero.”

“And I ask that you promise me not to, dragoste.” His hand slide onto the back of your neck and he pulled you flush to him. His heat welcome in the cool summer air. “It hurts me more to see you hurt because of me.”

“Well, you’re going to have to learn to live without that promise.” You brushed your lips against his. “Would you make the same promise to me?”

A rumble of disagreement vibrated in his chest and he held you tighter. “I can’t make that promise.”

“Well, it appears we are at an impasse.”

“Can we just agree not to get hurt as much as possible?” Pietro nuzzled into your neck, his hands skating down your spine.

“I think I can try,” you snorted, tilting your head back to give him full access to you neck.

“If you let me, I will love you with my whole being. I’ve been biting—” he nipped as the crook of your neck and you yelped. “—at the bit to do so for so long.”

“I think the phrase is ‘champing at the bit’,” you breathlessly teased. “But I think I can be inclined to let you love me. Would you mind showing me?”

Pietro pulled away momentarily, resulting in an annoyed grunt from you.

“Were you going to let Barnes kiss you?” His eyes were dark and molten on yours.

“If I said yes, you would get even more possessive and it’s kind of hot. But no, I was going to pull away when you intervened to keep me to yourself. Because I love you, Pietro.”

“I can’t believe he was going to kiss you.” Pietro came back to your neck and his hands fiddled with the silk of your dress just above your ass. “And while you are painfully beautiful in your dress, I would much rather see you out of it.”

****

Y/N Y/L/N CAUSING RIFT IN AVENGERS

Tensions were high at last night’s Stark Industries gala. Y/N Y/L/N, a.k.a. Vitality, was seen to be getting extremely cozy with not only Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. Winter Soldier, but also Pietro Maximoff, a.k.a. Quicksilver. Our source says Y/L/N was all over Barnes at the beginning of the night until Maximoff almost came to blows with his teammate over her. How many more teammates has Y/L/N—

Your phone was ripped from your hands and tossed onto the nightstand. You looked up to see Pietro, only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and holding the morning’s provisions he had just gone in search of.

“Do not read that garbage,” he chided, “She’s going to be up your ass for a bit but she’ll get bored.”

“She is not going to let this go anytime soon, Piet. You poked the proverbial bear by basically ghosting her. And she saw us leave together!”

“Everyone saw us leave together, because I wanted them to,” Pietro admitted and slid the plate over to you. It was an assortment of fruits and a couple of bagels.

“Well you succeeded. I will avoid the internet for the foreseeable future. Your fangirls are going to have a field day with me,” you sighed and stifled a yawn.

Pietro’s eyes tracked your movements and trailed to your bare backside. “I could get used to this.”

“Used to what?” you played dumb, wanting to hear the answer.

“You naked in our bed every morning.”

You paused from grabbing a strawberry. “Our bed?”

“You’re moving into my room,” he stated, sliding up over your back and ghosting his lips over your shoulder before he bit down at the base of your neck.

You did you best not to gurgle in response. That spot always sent every nerve into a frenzy.

“I will not spend another night or morning away from you, if I can help it,” he murmured and gripped your hip bones in his warm, skillful hands.

“Your moving this fast, huh Maximoff?” you tried to keep a level tone, but your voice still came out breathy as he pinned you further to mattress under his weight.

“This,” he emphasized by pressing himself into your backside, letting you feel just what he meant, “has been going on for two years, dragoste. So not fast at all. Besides, some things don’t need to be fast. I can be quite good at taking things slow, as you know.”

His teeth nibbled at you again. “I know all to well, you are torturously slow sometimes,” you panted.

“You love the result though, no?” His lips began to trail down your back.

You bit back a moan as he hiked your hips up, ass in the air. His fingers dancing dangerously over you clit. You tried to push again him, but he quickly held you in place.

“So eager, dragoste? It’s only been an hour.”

You growled in frustration. “Wipe that smirk off your face, Pietro.”

“You can’t even see my face,” he argued.

“Oh, eat me.”

“Gladly,” he grinned, “after you answer my question.”

“Of course,” you whined, aching from the teasing.

“Good girl.”

His mouth was on you before you could even moan from being called a good girl.

****

“Alright, who won?” Tony looked around to the team that had made it to the kitchen that morning.

“Won what?” Nat asked.

“The bet.”

“What bet?”

“For how long it would take Pietro and Y/N to acknowledge their feelings and go public. I had 1 year since we placed the bet, we’re at 10 months since the bet.” Tony looked to Wanda, Steve, and Bruce.

“You guys knew?” Nat gaped at them.

“You didn’t?” Steve was shocked. “Nat, even I could see it.”

“No, Steve knows only because he was unfortunate to walk in on them in the sparing room onetime. They did not notice,” Tony rolled eyes.

“And you Bruce?” Nat asked, she couldn’t believe she’d not seen it.

“I was unfortunate to walk in on them in the med bay once after a missions, they did not notice.” Bruce grimaced. “I just needed a bandaid.”

“All I needed to see was their constant fuck me eyes to know. It sometimes can come off as playful or antagonistic looks, but they may be one and the same for them.” Tony shrugged.

“Well, I lost. I thought it would only take a month for them to work their shit out,” Wanda groaned.

“I had six months, so that puts me four months off,” Steve sighed.

“I had three months, I had more faith in them than I should have,” Bruce conceded.

“Well that makes me the winner. They are both stubborn idiots. What’s our next wager? When to expect a mini-avenger now that they are bound to be stupid-in-love idiots?” Tony teased.

“Not funny, Stark,” Nat grunted.

***

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