#favorite scene among many

[rememberwhouare]

The Walking Dead | 05.15 | "Try"

"Or what? You gonna kick meowt?"

"You still don’t get it. None uh you do! We know what needs to be done and we dooit. We’re the ones who live. You, you just sit an plan an hesitate. You pretend like you know when you don’t. You wish things weren’t what they are. Well, you wantuh live? You want this place to stay standin? Your way of doin things is done. Thangs don’t get better because you - you want them to. Startin right now, we have to live in the real world. We have to control who lives here." -Rick

"Thats never been more clear to me than it is right now." -Deanna

"Me? Me? You mean me? Your way is gonna destroy this place. It's gonna get people killed, it's already gotten people killed. And I'm not gonna stand by and just let it happen. If you don't fight, you die." -Rick

Sound familiar? Rick was channeling Shane. Rick had a point, he was just expressing wildly. Shane wasn't crazy man he was just coping the same way. Also, first time "We're the ones who live" was said in the series.

[beaulesbian]

One Piece ep. 273 || "You’ll now no longer be able to keep up with me."

[itwoodbeprefect]

i don't have a point here except ???, but i realized today that starsky & hutch episode the psychic a) was written by micheal mann of (among many other things) classic crime thriller heat fame, and b) contains a baffling amount of (references to) crossdressing. it's one of the two episodes that opens with starsky and hutch chasing a guy in a dress (which gives us the "well i don't know, you('d) look rather nice in basic black and pearls" starsky-to-hutch line), later on they interrupt a robbery being committed by ANOTHER guy in a dress (and grey wig, posing as an old lady - presumably with the intent to disguise his identity rather than express some part of it, but who knows), and THEN they meet a hot lady mechanic who among many fast lines says to starsky "i'm really a basketball player in drag. whatever turns you on, honey" (interestingly timely, considering starsky's earlier comment about hutch). and finally, not entirely related but also not unrelated, there's these people at a laundromat hutch hits up on his mad phone chase at the end of the episode:

so yeah. ???.

[niteshade925]

April 20, Beijing, China, National Museum of China/中国国家博物馆 (Part 1 - Dehua white porcelain exhibition/德化白瓷展):

Aaand finally, the National Museum of China/中国国家博物馆! I was lucky enough to see the famed Dehua white porcelain exhibition/德化白瓷展 here. Some of you may recognize some of these pieces already, since pictures and shorts of them have been circulating online way before I went on this trip, but there are many many other pieces too. The pieces I post here are only a small portion of the entire exhibition, so if you ever get a chance to see the exhibition elsewhere in person, don't hesitate. This stuff is amazing.

First up is one of the two that has been gaining popularity online, the piece named 神话 or "Legend".

The first time I saw a porcelain piece like this, I thought that the clothing part was made with paper? But no, the light fabric of the clothing, the hair, it's all porcelain. Keep in mind when looking through these pictures: every part of every piece is porcelain.

This piece is the other one that was becoming popular, the piece named simply 纸, or "Paper". If you don't look up close and see the glossy surface, you can't tell it's actually porcelain. I cannot for the life of me imagine the kind of magic that was used to turn clay into this

Anyway, this is a good point to introduce Dehua porcelain a little bit. Dehua porcelain is a regional specialty of Dehua/德化, which is located in Fujian province, and is known for its expressiveness and white color. For this reason it's also known in the West as "Blanc de Chine" (French: "white of China"), and this should be the reason why this exhibition is named 中国白, which basically means the same thing. The history of Dehua porcelain goes back to Song dynasty (960 - 1279), and it is still being produced today. Many of the pieces I'm posting here are modern pieces.

But Dehua white porcelain can be colored too (I imagine the color must be painted on later, because the white comes from the clay itself), and when it is colored, it looks like it came right out of a painting

This piece is especially amazing to me. Look at the texture, look at those details. Zoom in and you will find that there are actually a bunch of porcelain ants on this porcelain tree stump. Porcelain ants. I never expected to use porcelain as an adjective when describing ants. Wtf. It's like a manifestation of a scene from an older animated movie.

Peanuts are called 花生 in Chinese, which literally means "flower grow", and because it also has a long shelf life, it symbolizes longevity and a happy marriage. Also a fun fact: because Watson of Sherlock Holmes is usually phoenetically translated as 华生 (huá shēng) in Chinese and sounds similar to 花生 (huā shēng), you will find that many in the Chinese SH fandom refers to Watson as "peanut".

This piece is titled 春色满园, or "garden filled with spring scenery". This is also a common 4-character word used to describe gardens in spring. I'm guessing the figure depicted here is one of the flower gods. It is one of my personal favorites because of its superb depiction of movement, it's as if the flower god will really fly away on clouds at any moment

More depictions of traditional Chinese deities, specifically Chang'e/嫦娥, the moon goddess. That moon rabbit is too cute.

Depictions of what I'm assuming is the Four Heavenly Kings/四大天王, based on the items they are holding. The Four Heavenly Kings are Buddhist deities.

Look at her clothing! That porcelain is so thin it's almost see-through! Also is it depicting Li Qingzhao/李清照, the famous female poet from Song dynasty? She does have a famous ci poem that's about paddling a boat in a lake full of lotuses while drunk

The piece titled 锦绣前程, or "future as vibrant and prosperous as silk brocade". This is also a common 4-character word used in well wishing. The figure in this piece is holding a xiuqiu/绣球, a ball made of silk, which was usually seen as a token of love

Somewhat more modern-themed pieces:

Among the hundreds of amazing pieces, this one caught my attention for its unique texture. When everyone else was trying to turn the clay into these thin sheets representing fabric or paper or flower petals, this artist took the noodle approach. Not many visitors seemed to like it, but I think it's pretty cool

Piece titled 运势如虹, or "fortune like the rainbow", also a 4-character word used in well wishing. Traditionally horses symbolize vitality and success, hence why many people use the words 马到成功 ("horse's arrival brings success") and 龙马精神 ("vitality of dragons and horses") in well wishes during Year of the Horse

Stay tuned for Part 2 of the Dehua white porcelain exhibition!

[hazelfoureyes]

A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)

saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)

Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127

Minors DNI

When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.

The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.

So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.

Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.

But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.

When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.

Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.

You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.

The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.

Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”

He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”

“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.

“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.

Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.

“And?”

“What are you doing?”

“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”

You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.

“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.

“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.

You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.

“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.

“Huh? Do what?”

“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”

“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”

"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."

You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."

A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."

Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.

"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.

"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.

"Sir." He chided.

"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."

"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.

A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.

You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.

“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.

He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.

“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.

You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.

As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.

When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.

“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.

“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.

“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.

“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”

“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”

“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”

His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.

“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.

You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.

When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.

“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.

His tongue slowed.

“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.

Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.

So close.

“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.

You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.

Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.

Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.

With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.

You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.

“Yes, sir.”

*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out

༻Masterlist༺

[lesbianherald]

The way you managed to nail the S2 Jayvik dynamic before it even aired? Apollo’s ball be with ye

Anyway there’s so many fantastic scenes in Coming Home but Rio Acquisition is among my Top Three Favorites

i hope you know i have been staring at this literally all morning like I need to get ready for work and I keep coming back to this between tasks because this is literally so so cute also just exactly how I imagined it the expressions are taking me OUT

I would love love to link this in the chapter notes if you'd let me <3 regardless I will cherish it forever omgomg

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗙𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris records a TikTok with Tara after many requests from both fandoms, but fans reacted contrary to what he expected, generating questioning thoughts in Y/N.

WARNING: Crying, comparison, fighting.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The morning sun beamed beyond the half-open curtains in the living room, painting the room with orange and gold tones. Sitting at the kitchen table, Y/N immersed herself in her books, trying to focus on her notes as the sounds of Nick and Matt echoed around the house.

At that moment, Chris was absent. He had gone to Tara's house, a new friend of the triplets and, consequently, of Y/N, who had recently become a frequent figure in their lives. The objective was to record a video for Tara's channel since after the large group's social media post together, both fandoms started begging for collabs.

As Y/N immersed herself in her studies, a notification flashed on her phone screen. The girl looked up at her device, seeing the new message.

pretty boy: hi baby!! look, we did a tiktok! I look so cool: link.

A smile curved Y/N's lips as she clicked on the link, curious to see the result of one of Chris and Tara's creations. The video started, and she immediately recognized the song as one of her favorites, humming softly as her eyes captured the funny dance and interaction between the two.

A laugh escaped her lips when she saw Chris shaking his head in the lyrics "Would you get down on knees for me?", remembering all the times the song played when they were together, and exactly in this part, Chris always got down on his knees in front of Y/N, making her laugh.

For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to relax and enjoy the scene. It was a genuine demonstration of their new friendship, and Y/N felt grateful to be part of that dynamic.

However, her joy was momentary.

As the video came to an end, Y/N scrolled through the comments, eager to see the reaction of Tara's followers. What she found left her cold.

Among the funny and complimentary comments, there was a barrage of messages that cut like sharp knives. Ardent fans of both Tara and Chris were heavily shipping them, completely ignoring Chris's long-standing and public relationship with Y/N.

"Chris and Tara are so cute together!"

"I so wanted them to be a couple 😭"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you don't hold a candle to Tara. Chris deserves someone like her."

The words echoed in Y/N's mind, like a distant echo of an approaching storm. She felt a tightness in her chest, a mixture of sadness, anger, and confusion.

How could they be so cruel? How could they judge their relationship based on fragments of a distorted reality? Y/N felt vulnerable, exposed to the relentless cruelty of the virtual world.

Her thumb moved automatically as she left the comment box, sliding the screen to the TikTok below the one she was watching, craving a quick distraction. But her hope was suddenly dashed when she saw that the next video was an edit of Chris and Tara's TikTok and all the others after.

She knew the fans were fast, but at that moment, she wanted them to be as slow as possible.

Y/N closed the app with a heavy sigh, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. It was difficult not to let the strangers' words and opinions get to her.

With a determined effort to forget about it momentarily, Y/N turned her attention back to the books, seeking refuge in the comforting familiarity of the printed pages, forgetting to answer Chris.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The day was coming to an end. In the room shared by Y/N and Chris, the atmosphere was filled with a silent energy, interrupted only by the gentle slide of Y/N's fingers over her phone screen, and the low sounds of various videos.

She was lying in their bed, having already taken a comforting shower, but her mind was still shrouded in a haze of dark thoughts. As she scrolled through her TikTok's For You, romantic edits of Chris and Tara popped up with disturbing frequency. Y/N's expression was a mixture of sadness and self-questioning, her eyes reflecting an inner storm.

She felt her mind defeat her with thoughts of comparison. She knew she would never reach Tara's beauty, humor, and even body.

The heavy atmosphere was interrupted by the sound of the door opening gently. Chris entered the room, radiating an aura of euphoria. His eyes sparkled with joy, and a smile spread across his face with ease.

"Hi, my pretty girl!" Chris greeted, closing the door behind him. "You won't believe how amazing the video with Tara turned out. I can't wait for her to post it so you can see it!"

"Hey, baby! I'm so happy you had fun." Y/N looked up from her cell, forcing a smile on her lips, trying with all her might not to reveal her current state - the last thing she wanted to do was ruin Chris's excitement, but the sadness still hovered in her eyes.

Chris immediately noticed the change in her expression and approached the bed, worried.

"What happened, babe?" He asked in a worried tone, frowning and sitting down next to her.

She just shook her head slightly, unable to put her tumultuous thoughts into words. Chris reached out to caress her face gently, seeking to comfort her with his loving touch.

"You didn't answer my text, I really thought something was happening... You know you can tell me anything, right?" Chris continued gently. He didn't want to force anything out of her.

Y/N nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. Before he could say anything else, Chris noticed the phone in her hand with almost silent sounds escaping from the speaker, leaning over to peer at the screen.

Romantic edits of Chris and Tara filled Y/N's device. He swallowed hard, instantly connecting the dots.

Chris's comforting touch on Y/N's face seemed to turn cool. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a sigh escaped his lips before he could control it.

"Y/N, are you really upset because of these silly edits?" The boy questioned, his voice filled with disbelief. His touch against the warm skin disappeared within seconds, the boy removing his hand from her face before sitting down on the bed.

Y/N flinched at the accusation implicit in his words, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. Tears threatened to overflow her eyes as she struggled to find a coherent response.

"It's not just because of the edits..." She, her voice shaking with turbulent emotions. "Did you see the comments? They-"

Chris shook his head impatiently, cutting her off abruptly, frustration beginning to seep into his expression. He couldn't understand why something as trivial as fan edits could affect his girlfriend so much.

"Y/N, this is ridiculous!" He continued firmly. "These edits and comments don't mean anything. They're just fan jokes. It's not the end of the world." His voice came out louder than before, his posture now rigid.

His words hit Y/N like a sharp knife, making her feel even more inadequate and misunderstood. Anger bubbled inside her, a simmering mix of resentment and hurt.

"You don't understand, Chris!" She snapped, her voice shaking slightly. Her right hand worked to lock the screen of her phone in one quick motion, tossing it aside. "This isn't just about the edits. It's about how I feel about being compared to Tara, about how it's making me feel inferior to her! How would you feel if people started wanting to see me with a man other than you? While I'm in a relationship with you!"

Chris rolled his eyes dismissively, his patience beginning to wear thin at the intensity of Y/N's emotions.

“You’re so tiring sometimes, Y/N.” He snapped without thinking, his voice tinged with irritation, not giving a damn about how his girlfriend felt. "I can't deal with all this insecurity all the time. It's fucking exhausting."

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless, her rigid posture quickly crumbling. She felt tears run down her face without force as the painful realization settled in her heart.

She was tiring. She was insecure. She was too much for him to handle.

The pain of rejection burned in her chest as she retrieved her phone again, ripping the comforter off her legs. Her lips were pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the ugly sobs that she wanted to let out. She wouldn't give herself the luxury of showing Chris how much he hurt her.

The girl got up from the bed in one quick movement, grabbing her pillow and heading towards the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" Chris's voice echoed harshly behind her, his body rising from the mattress quickly.

"I'll sleep in the living room." Y/N responded curtly, turning the handle with ease before walking through the door, slamming it, feeling more alone than ever amidst the multitude of turbulent emotions.

She could feel her heart being crushed a little more when she didn't hear Chris call for her again, let alone try to reach her.

The stairs leading to the living room were silent, and her pillow clutched to her chest as a last vestige of comfort in a world that seemed to be falling apart around her. Each step up echoed like a lonely echo in an emotional void that seemed to swallow her whole.

Upon reaching the living room, Y/N found refuge on the empty couch. She curled into the soft upholstery, hugging the pillow tightly as tears continued to roll down her cheeks silently. The phone rested next to her, emitting a dim light that wouldn't turn off, almost begging her to pick it up again.

Hours dragged by like centuries as Y/N fought the ghosts of her own mind.

At some point, she had given up resisting and was on her TikTok again. The algorithm seemed to hate her, delivering her frequent videos of Chris and Tara, which were like a sharp dagger in her heart.

They would really look beautiful together.

Dawn fell heavily upon her, but sleep refused to welcome her into its comforting arms. Instead, she found herself trapped in a whirlwind of torturous thoughts, her mind pounding incessantly with doubts and questions about her relationship with Chris.

Until her brain shuts down completely, letting tiredness win.

At 3 a.m., in the darkness of the night, a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the room. Chris was there, his tired face etched with worry and regret.

His eyes quickly found Y/N's figure lying on the couch, already asleep, curled up and shivering slightly from the cold. Her eyes were closed, but he could see the swelling that surrounded them, the traces of tears on her cheeks and her still damp face. Next to her, her phone repeatedly played one of the videos she had watched before falling asleep.

A lump formed in Chris's throat. He intensely blamed himself for not having thought before acting and, much less, noticing how much his actions had affected his girlfriend.

With hesitant steps, he approached her, feeling the weight of his own anguish on his shoulders.

Gently, Chris turned off her phone, cutting the endless cycle of pain that had consumed Y/N. He then crouched down beside her, studying her peaceful face with a mixture of love and pain.

With a resigned sigh, the boy carefully took her into his arms, hooking them around her back and behind her knees, feeling the weight of her fragile body against his own chest. Y/N hummed softly in response to his touch but didn't fully wake up.

Chris carried her down the stairs and back to their bedroom, where the soft light from the lamp bathed the room in yellow tones. Tenderly, he placed her on the soft mattress, covering her with the comforter carefully so as not to wake her.

Y/N shifted slightly under Chris's touch and the new surface beneath her limbs, her eyebrows furrowing in an expression of discomfort. She looked restless, as if she were immersed in a nightmare.

Chris watched her for a moment, feeling the weight of his own harsh words weigh on him like an anchor. He knew he had hurt Y/N deeply, and the pain of seeing her suffer was almost unbearable.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to her, his hand reaching for her with a tentative touch. Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes finally slowly opening to meet Chris's. She fought the urge to get up and leave the room again, her anger at Chris's actions and sadness in her mind, making her want to avoid him.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, sharing a silent understanding that transcended words, Y/N making the decision to let him say what he wanted.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Chris muttered, his voice thick with regret. "I was insensitive and selfish. I didn't want to hurt you, I acted on impulse and completely without thinking. This whole situation is not silly if it hurts and bothers you, and I promise that we can talk better about what you saw and how you felt, and solve this together... Just please, give me this chance?"

Y/N blinked slowly, her eyes locked on Chris's as she processed his words. For a moment, she felt the weight of hurt and disappointment pressing against her, but then she saw the sincerity in Chris's eyes, the pure, unconditional love he had always offered her.

And in that moment, she knew that forgiveness was the only good choice to make. With a sigh, she squeezed Chris's hand tenderly, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

"Just one chance. I want you to fix what you did and do it right this time."

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[anyarose011]

Agape

Pairing: Lucius x Reader

Summary: After the Roman Empire had fallen, birthing the Republic, you and Lucius had finally found a moment to breathe in each other's presence. Over a few years' journey of healing, you find that is both exhausting, yet all the more fulfilling at the same time.

Part 2 of 2 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past SA, Depictions of Grief, Violence, Angst, Miscommunication, Historical Inaccuracies [I tried my best to make it kind of accurate], Nudity (sexual and non-sexual), Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex (f receiving), P in V Sex

Paul Mescal's facial hair in All of Us Strangers, if you can hear us, please save us. Nobody ask me how I went from "’Oh, I’m just gonna write some scenes about healing from trauma, and the rest is smut! Easy!" to then making it just a little longer than the first part. I'm a yapper, but holy shit XD. Anyway, this is just shameless pRopAgAnDa at what I personally view a husband to act like (even in modern times). So, without further ado, thousands of words of hurt/comfort and smut.

Word Count: 16.4k

You were a lucky child. When you were twelve and your friend was married off to a man who was forty-two, you asked your father when you would be married.

He tucked you in that night, saying that he wasn’t certain, and that you had nothing to fear; for he wouldn’t promise you to a man who was in a war the same year you were born. He would have to know him personally as well, saying.

“It’s easier to like a man than have to plan his assassination if he dared lay a hand on you.”

You like to think he would have approved of Lucius; he was the once heir to the Roman Empire.

You don’t think he would have approved of your…informal marriage.

“A year.” Lucius stated as the two of you sat together in one of the piazzas. “As long as we are not separated from each other for more than three days, Rome will view us as married if we live in the same household for a year.”

You hummed. “And why should we care what Rome views?”

“Men won’t stop their advances on you if they saw you as my sister.” he explained. “Even as a wife, that doesn’t stir them.”

“It’s a very Christian belief of you to have.”

“But it makes them think thoroughly on if they want to risk tainting you.” Lucius finally looked at you. “Knowing that I would break every finger they touched you with.”

Even with his proclamation, you merely shrugged. “Being the emperor’s favorite whore, I doubt they would care.”

He sighed. “Do you want to know what my mother wrote? Her final words that will forever be with me because they are in ink? ‘Take her as your wife.’”

It had only been one day since Lucilla’s death, since Rome had become a Republic, and no one knew exactly what to do.

Yet…even at the mention of her presence, you felt tears spring to your eyes.

How you hated crying; and crying and crying.

“It is wise.” You finally settled on. “The people here too must see me as a traitor.”

“You would be dead if they did.”

“It’s still early.” You smiled sadly. “I desired to be free of the emperors, but all they must have saw was lust for power.”

Lucius sighed. “If it is a concern, then I believe it is best to leave Rome.”

Suddenly, you were no longer afraid for your life. You scowled. “Leave the city you risked your life to liberate?”

“It is not just my own life I need to think of now, is it?”

“Then think of mine.” you began. “I don’t wish to leave. Where would we even go? I know nothing outside of Rome.”

This would have been solved if you somehow still had the house you grew up in. The moment Geta claimed you, it was gone. Even with the fall of the Empire, and the birth of the Republic, you could not take it back.

Among many other things, you could not take it back.

“We’ll live just outside the walls.” Lucius suggested. “A farm perhaps a few miles from here-.”

“-A farm?” You questioned. “You know how to farm? Because I sure don’t.”

“I’ve lived longer on a farm than I have in a palace.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. You also weren’t in the position to bargain. Even though it wasn’t going to be what most would deem an ‘official’ marriage, he still owned you. That was how it always was, whether living outside of the Roman walls or not. Still, you had to try.

“I will learn as much as I need to,” You shook your head. “but I will find a job in the city. You cannot believe I will be shut out-.”

“-Do you want to share a room, or would you like your own?”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

Lucius restated. “We don’t have any money to buy a farm, so I’ll build us one. Do you want your own room?”

You had only known him for a grand total of a day and a half (if you were to add up all the previous times you had spoken to him before Macrinus’ death), so needless to say, his offer shocked you; more so, it impressed you.

“Isn’t it odd for a man and wife to not share a bed?” You asked.

“So, you want to share a room?”

“No.” was your immediate response. “I just…”

Am not used to compromising with men without them threatening my life.

“Won’t it cost money to build a house?” You asked instead. “None the less, more for another room?”

“I only want you to be happy, if we’re to be married.”

There you were, asking every question and not being satisfied with his answers, yet he was remaining patient.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head in thanks for just a second before questioning. “I am still allowed to have a job in the city? It will help with the cost, of course.”

 “Where exactly do you intend to work?”

He said your name; not ‘Julia’, the name you had whispered to him in his cell. Lucius was the only one who had said it to you, for you did not even tell Lucilla or Marcus. It still felt strange hearing it on your lips, nonetheless, his.

Still, shaking your discomfort away, you hummed humorlessly. “I know two women who run their own businesses; hairdressing and tailoring. I’m better at hair than clothes, but not so much. And you?”

He sighed. “I’ll see if there’s any other farmers needing a hand.”

“You’re going to work for a farmer to build a farm?”

“It sounded more bizarre in your head than when you said it aloud, did it not?”

That was the first thing you found out about Lucius after all the bloodshed and heartbreak of the last week:

He spoke with such a straight tone, you did not know he was joking until he would smile just a hint; you couldn’t really call it a true smile.

You managed to grin. “I suppose it makes sense. You should find one that will let us sleep there.”

And he did. A farm just a few miles outside of Rome took both you and Lucius in. It was substantial, housing five chickens, two cows, three pigs, four horses, and seven human children. Albeit the children helped with the chores, but the eldest was only ten and could not manage any of the heavy lifting whatsoever, which was where Lucius came in.

From sun up to sun down, he’d work on the farm. The farmers, Atticus and Diana, let you sleep in the barn of all places. The hayloft was nice for the both of you; enough space to spread out but not be right next to each other. There was also somewhat of a wall between the two of you, giving the illusion of separate rooms.

It was certainly an adjustment for you; had been sleeping on the softest of beds for months, but even so, you just missed the bed from your old house.

Lucius fell asleep the second he laid on the hay.

Dreams and nightmares were always a peculiar thing. Some days, you would dream of your mother and father, some days, they would be of Lucilla and Marcus.

You had nightmares of what befell you before coming to the farm; Macrinus and his manipulation, Caracalla’s temper, Geta…

Yet, the worst that would happen would be you waking up more tired than the night prior. You knew Lucius was having nightmares too, but every time you approached him, he would lie and say he was fine, or simply not want to speak of it.

You stopped asking.

For the first few days on the farm, you were put to work by watching over the younger children when their mother was busy. Somehow, it was the older ones you didn’t mind, it was the youngest baby who was a handful.

It’s morbid to say, but you always wondered how any of them survived infancy.

Luckily, you managed to get back to Rome after perhaps a week of being stranded on the farm. It was almost an hour walk, and you had gotten up even before Lucius had, but it was worth it.

It wasn’t that you felt dead as you were on the farm per say, but walking through the streets brought a certain kind of life back into your steps.

You spent a good portion of the day trying to find the hairdressers you talk to Lucius about. Just as you were about to give up and try again tomorrow, something caught your ear.

Hebrew.

You turned over your shoulder and saw a man speaking in Latin to another man and a pregnant woman. The father had spoken in broken Latin before turning to his wife, speaking quickly in Hebrew as if to ask her what to say.

The Roman man began to yell, and you rushed over, speaking to the patriarch of the family.

“What’s going on?” You asked quickly.

His eyes grew as if you were the first person in Rome to understand him (you probably were). “I paid for a bag of peaches fairly; two bronze, yet they’re saying it wasn’t enough.”

You turned to the man behind you. “He says he gave you two bronze for the peaches.”

“It was three.” The Roman man gritted his teeth.

Tilting your head, you tried. “Show me your stand so we may see.”

It was perhaps stupid of you to challenge him; yet, he controlled his tempter and led you to his fruit stand. The sign by the peaches indeed said ‘2’, but there was also a good amount of peaches blocking the bottom half of the sign.

When you moved a few, it read ‘3’.

You smiled, looking at the man who spoke Hebrew. “It is three, but it’s not your fault this brute didn’t notice either.”

He nodded, returning your grin before handing the men another copper. With an few mumbled exchanges, the man and his wife were on their way.

“You have Judeans in your family?” The man crudely asked.

Still, you decided to reciprocate his crassness with kindness. “I actually speak five languages.”

He rose his brows. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

He hummed, holding his hand out. “Isidorus.”

“Julia.” Was your immediate response as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles. It wasn’t even your own choice to say that name; it was what you lived by. Retracting your hand, you shake your head and said your own name. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-.”

“-All of Rome knows who you are.” He interrupted. “Do not be afraid of your own people. Most of them were there simply a week ago when you tried to slay Macrinus but was there to comfort lady Lucilla in her final moments.”

You only nodded, not wanting to be praised. “I thank you for your kindness.”

“With certain.” He nodded. “You are with child; only a monster would harm a woman carrying.”

The events of the past weeks had made you forgotten about the false babe. Luckily, the fear upon your face could be used to your advantage.

“Are you not well?” Isidorus questioned.

You dropped your gaze, stammering your tone. “The…I lost the child.”

He looked down as well. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head. “it’s…it feels odd. His father was terrible but…”

“Why are you perusing Rome unchaperoned?” He changed the subject.

 “My betrothed is being put to work,” you immediately answered. “and I am scouring the streets to find my own.”

“What has your luck been?”

“Nothing.”

Isidorus hummed. “I could change that.”

Even at the thought of what he was alluding to, you smiled. “Good sir, I am not in the position to sell my body-.”

“-None of that.” he waved his hand. “My brother works down at the entrance of the city gates. They’re always in need of translators.”

You nodded, considering. “When may I meet with him?”

“Tomorrow?” He asked. “Midday at the gates with many people watching so you do not feel threatened?”

The two of you laughed, and you agreed. “I shall be there. Thank you.”

“Anything to help a woman of the people.”

You walked all the way back to the farm with a skip in your step. Even at dinner, you were more talkative with the rest of the family. Lucius certainly took notice as the two of you were settling down for the night.

“You seemed better today.” He complimented, laying onto his bed of hay.

“So, I’ve been absolutely horrible the rest?” You teased, peeking around the wall of the hayloft.

 “No, just what I think you were like before everything; more yourself.” He explained. “Did the hairdressers go well?”

Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms. “I’m actually working as a translator down by the city entrance.”

He gave you a look. “How’d this come about?”

“Well,” you began. “I overheard two men arguing, one was speaking Hebrew, and I asked him what was wrong. There was a misunderstanding over peaches of all things, I helped them talk it out, and it was solved with no bloodshed. The vendor said his brother works at the gates and is always in need of translators and offered to meet with him tomorrow. It will be midday and so many people around; do not worry.”

Lucius nodded. “I’ll accompany you.”

“Did you not hear what I just said? I shall be fine.”

“I have no doubt you would.” You knew that was a lie. “One of the scythes broke today, I’ll need to buy another one in the city.”

You didn’t know if that was a lie or not, but it wouldn’t surprise you if Lucius would sneak out in the night and break equipment simply to go with you.

Sighing, you went behind the wall to your side of the hayloft. “Fine.”

To no one but Lucius’ surprise, Isidorus had not lied about his brother, nor the job offer. Of course, the brother had been off put at a woman being the translator (because everyone knows that they are the lesser sex). Still, after some convincing (you talked to a Greek family, a man from Anatolia, and two brothers from Persia), he said you could be put to work.

Lucius stood there the whole hour you had proved yourself.

“You couldn’t have gotten the scythe while I worked?” You questioned him while walking home.

He kept his gaze on the road before him, carrying the farm equipment. “It was engaging to watch.”

You hummed. “I could see how engaged you were while you stood like this.” You crossed your arms and scowled.

“I did not look like that.” He scoffed.

“You did so!” You refuted, lowering your voice. “My name is Lucius Verus Aurelius, the Last Gladiator, son of Lucilla and Maximus, grandson of Marcus Aurelius.”

He looked down, mouth upturning a little. “I do not sound like that.”

“Is that a smile?!” you gasped. “Gods above, I never thought you could unless you were attempting humor!

“Away with you, woman.”

You only laughed as the sun was starting to set.

There was something called a “Fullmoon” period in a marriage. Most now would say it’s “Honeymoon”, but the period in time where a man and woman were in a complete state of euphoria together was called “Fullmoon” because it only lasted for a month.

You and Lucius (even with your strange circumstance) were not immune to this.

A month later, when you had fully settled into a mundane life of working in different areas for hours upon hours, the only times you saw Lucius was when you ate dinner with the farmer’s family, and before going to bed.

It didn’t’ effect you that much for the first three months, as you both were still on good terms and were fine simply cohabitating without affection. This marriage was purely for protection and to honor Lucilla’s wishes.

Then…Lucius came to you one day, saying that together, you both had enough money to build a farm. He already had a patch of land picked out from the help of the famer who employed him. It was five miles away from the farm you stayed at. Five miles more of a journey to the city.

You would move in once the walls were built, which he said would only take a week or two.

It was too fast for you.

Still, you had to go along with it, because you were to be his wife; nothing more. Even so, nothing out of the ordinary besides your hidden, simmering annoyance happened between you two.

The first day construction was to be done was when light was shed upon it.

“Lucius!” You called his name as you approached him and a few other men hauling the wood and stone that would be used. It was mid-twilight when you ran to them.

He furrowed his brow, walking towards you. “Aren’t you meant to be in the city?”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shook your head. “I asked for the day off because of the house. He said I-.”

“-You need to go back and tell him you’ll work.”

Your smile fell from his usual, monotone demeanor. “He doesn’t expect me to come in today-.”

“-Then he’ll be happy to see you.”

“May I just talk for a moment?!” You yelled.

His said nothing.

Sighing, you began. “I will be useful in any capacity. If you need me to help dig for water, measure supports, lift anything-.”

“-Your shoulder cannot carry-.”

You retorted. “-It might be the shoulder you shot, but it’s the shoulder I have to live with, and I will tell you if something is too heavy to carry.”

It hadn’t been the first time you brought up your shoulder after Rome was free. Yet, in the past, it was always out of good fun; something to say to him when you didn’t want to carry as little as an egg from the chicken coop. You told the children the story too why you had to set one of them down after carrying her for so long.

You expected them to cower away from Lucius when he returned for supper, but instead, they all tackled him to the ground to defend your honor.

They didn’t hurt him of course, and you laughed until you couldn’t breathe.

Yet, at that moment, you said it with nothing but disdain; and he heard it in every word. You thought it would have been enough to guilt him into letting you help, you made sure of it.

Lucius titled his head back toward the main road. “Go on, now. The sun will be up soon, it’ll be better to walk without daylight beating down on you.”

The audacity he had. Usually, on the times you’d have disagreements of sorts, you’d try to leave with dignity; perhaps a word of sarcasm or two.

No, you simply turned on your heel and marched away in a huff.

You were harsher that day when translating, and you were still angry by the time the day ended. You ate dinner outside by yourself (until three of the seven children came outside to eat with you), and did not utter a ‘goodnight’ to Lucius before laying down to sleep.

Neither of you spoke to the other for days after that.

It was one morning, not even when the sun was out, as you tried to tiptoe around him, did he ask from his makeshift bed.

“Do you remember where the house is?”

You nearly fell off the ledge of the hayloft. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Do you remember?”

“Yes!” you whispered, afraid to wake the whole farm. “Why?”

“We made the water pump, and the walls and floors are finished. We’ll be able to sleep there now.”

“I don’t see the appeal in sleeping in a house with no roof.”

“I’ll put half of it on today. Tell your foreman too that you won’t be able to work for the next week.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“I’m teaching you how to tend to a farm.” He wrapped his blankets tighter around him and turned his back to you.

And you continued on your way; making the long trek to the city, which would only be longer when you moved to the house.

When your work was over, you walked and walked. You took a short break at the farmer’s house, making your final goodbyes to the children, and gathering what little belongings you owned.

As you tried to leave, Diana stopped you. She was leading one of the horses, a berber, behind her.

“Take her,” she handed you the reins. “you shouldn’t have to walk so far.”

You shook your head. “I simply cannot-.”

“-I insist.” She smiled. “She’s yours now. Think of it as payment for helping me with the little beasts that are my children.”

Smiling politely, it soon faded. She took notice. “What is it?”

“…I’ve only ever ridden once, and I was a child.”

She sighed yet was still kind. “Come on, my husband’s horse is at your farm. I’ll ride back with him.”

Despite your inexperience, it was actually nice riding a horse. It was perhaps the closest you could ever come to flying in your lifetime; maybe that’s why you enjoyed it. As you were nearing your soon-to-be home, you saw a familiar silhouette along with some others.

Atop the house, against the setting sun, you watched as Lucius continued to add tiles to the unfinished roof. His shirt was off, and even with night beginning to set in with the cold air, he was still breaking a sweat from the rigorous work. You would be a liar if you say that you didn’t catch yourself staring, and it was Diana who had to take the reins.

“What a fine home!” She broke you out of your trance, and when Lucius looked in your direction, you snapped your gaze away.

Lucius nodded. “All that needs to be done is the roof.” He jumped onto the ground just as you were sliding off the horse. He gave you his hand as you were, and you took it.

“Thank you.”

Atticus and the other workers went to a lone tree where their horses were tied. Atticus then approached both you and Lucius.

“Well,” he smiled. “it was lovely hosting the both of you. Please come back as often as you can; I���m sure the children will miss you.”

You all exchanged your final goodbyes, and it when everyone rode off away from you, did you realize something. This was the first time in a while you were alone with Lucius that wasn’t when going to sleep or waking up.

“Do you have a name for the horse?” Lucius asked.

Turning over your shoulder, you led the steed to the tree, petting her as you began to tie her up. “Not at the moment. She’s yours too, do you have any?”

“You’ll be with her more; you should name her.”

Humming you looked at him when you finished securing the horse. “You asked them to give her to me, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “They asked how they could repay you for taking care of their children, I mentioned how it would be a longer journey to the city once we moved here. That’s all I did.”

…He was better at asking for forgiveness than for permission; that was another thing you learned about him. Still, you nodded your appreciation, inspecting the area around you. It was quite beautiful even with its plainness. The fields stretched on for miles, and there were no tall buildings to cover the night sky. Even the unfinished house brought a sense of happiness to you.

Something that was, at least partially, your own.

“Where will the barn and chicken coop go?” You questioned.

A hint of a smile played on his mouth, but in Lucius fashion, did his best to hide it. “You were complaining about not having a roof, and now you wonder about things for the animals?”

“Perhaps I’m more interested in farming that you are.”

“I’ll teach you.” he led you into the house. “Come on.”

 The front living space was large, and in the corner of it had an oven, so that was where the kitchen would be. Lucius showed you the two rooms as well; each having a single pillow and a blanket.

“We’ll begin planting tomorrow.” he announced. “I don’t think I’ll have to wake you up.”

“You won’t.” You nodded. “Goodnight, Lucius.”

“Goodnight.” He said your name.

You didn’t think you’d ever get over the sound of your own name from his lips.

You named the horse after your mother. Well…not the exact same name, but a similar one. It was quite a scene too when confessing to Lucius you could exactly remember how to ride a horse by yourself.

He didn’t laugh at you, that was what greatly surprised you. He spent an hour teaching you, and you were able to ride her on your own.

Farming was more difficult than you thought it would be, but not so horrible either. Yes, where Lucius was patient with you for the first few days, he made a few snide comments as time passed. Nothing outright mean, but still enough to get under your skin.

Still, you managed to pick it up within the few weeks after that.

He had even let you help him finish the roof of the house; something you didn’t expect him to do. After living in the house for a month, both of you managed to buy actual beds for your rooms, among other luxuries like a few tables and chairs for the main living area, and utensils both for cooking and for eating.

The bathroom was completely bare. Having spent all the money on everything else, it would take time for the both of you to buy a bathtub. Bathing wasn’t a problem back on Atticus and Diana’s farm, but now being away from them, you would be forced to rely on the public baths in the city…

Even with some bathhouses having baths only for women, that did not stop men from forcing their way into them.

You didn’t mind being dirty for weeks on end.

The two of you fell into another pattern of life; you going into the city and spending hours translating foreign dialogue, and Lucius working on the farm for most days, sometimes accompanying you.

There was…something else strange as well.

It was always a coin toss on what weeks Lucius would speak to you or not.

Yes, he was always a man of few words, but this was different. There were some days when you asked him about his day, he would tell you what boring tasks he did. Than, on others, it was just one word: “Good.”

Never “Bad”, never “Just okay”; only “Good”. Even when you knew it wasn’t, that’s all he would say.

And you could endure it.

It had already been a little over half a year since the two of you started living together. In the eyes of Rome (as mere Plebians), you would be married once a year passed.

This was perhaps the best marriage you could ask for as a Roman woman. Still…every day that Lucius would not speak to you only brought more dread upon your shoulders.

When he stopped even looking at you, that was when you went to Diana one day.

“It’s so lovely to see you.” She smiled, setting down two cups of wine and sitting. “It’s felt like ages!”

With her youngest baby on your lap, you chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “You honestly didn’t need to get the wine out.”

“Nonsense!” She waved her hand. “It’s a celebration just to be in your presence. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

“How’s the farm? Lucius?”

“Well,” you took another sip, setting your cup down. “the farm has been alright. I know at least how to properly water crops and know when they’re ready to harvest or not. I help Lucius sometimes, but…he likes things his own way. He was a farmer too, I understand.”

She hummed. “And as a betrothed? I hope having your own home would help; to me, you two treated each other more like acquaintances than anything else.”

All you could do was avoid eye contact and bounce the giggling baby on your knee.

“Ah.” She sighed. “So not much has changed?”

“We both talk more than we had at your farm, but somehow, less at the same time.” You explained.

Diana reached over and held your hand, asking softly. “When was the last time you were intimate?”

As if she were a man, you tore your hand from hers. “What?”

“I do not wish anything to be forced upon you,” she stated first. “especially with what has happened to you. But…it is still important, especially to your future marriage.”

“We…we haven’t done anything in…months.” You were not going to tell her you hadn’t even seen him naked. You were not going to tell her you hadn’t done you “duty” as a woman.

She nodded. “There must be something plaguing his mind terribly.”

“I know that!” You cried. “He just won’t tell me.”

“Men do not like talking,” Diana sighed. “I have been married to Atticus for fifteen years, and even after seven children, there are parts of his past I still do not know of. What Lucius frets over is important though. You must dig your heels into the ground and let him know you are not doing anything until he tells you what he has issue with.”

The baby on your lap cooed as you held her, reaching for parts of your clothing. Diana took her from you once the baby started fussing, and you offered her a grateful smile.

“I’ll try my best with him.”

She squeezed your shoulder. “He will come to his senses. If not, then he truly hit his head too hard in the Colosseum.”

Except, you couldn’t confront him when you got home. Even though the sun was only beginning to set, when you arrived, the house was silent. You peeked into his bedroom and saw that he was already fast asleep.

With a sigh, you finished your nightly activities, and when the sun went down, you were in your own bed.

The nightmare was unlike any you had before.

Hands from all around you reached out to you. Some grabbed clumps of your hair, stuck their fingers into your mouth, caressed the most intimate parts of your body, or even tear your skin off.

You blinked and then you were in the palace, surrounded by cloaked figures. Someone forced you onto your back, and you looked up and saw Geta, raising a knife high above his head before diving it into your stomach. He carved it out before digging his hands into the opening he made and pulled out your womb.

After sitting up in bed, you had thought you awoken. When you opened your bedroom door, you were welcomed to a field of reeds, seeing nothing for miles. All but a silhouette in the distance. You could not make out it to be a man or a woman; all you knew was that you needed to run to them.

Yet, even as you dashed through the fields, calling out a name you do not even remember, your feet sank into the ground with each step.

The earth swallowed you whole before you could even reach them.

You didn’t awake with a scream; you didn’t even awake with a cry. You did awake in a sweat. Sitting up, you slowly pulled the blanket away from your body. Your stomach was unwounded, and nothing had happened.

Without knowing why, you rose from your bed and slipped on your sandals. Not even putting on a robe, you walked out of the house into the cold, night air. Numbly, you treaded through the tall grass away from the house and stopped.

The stars above you watched as you fell to your knees, and the past finally had the last laugh.

You wept for your mother (whose touch you never felt).

You wept for your father (who you had to take care of the same way he took care of you).

You wept for Marcus (the first man outside of your father to ever see you as a person).

You wept for Lucilla (the woman who saved you in more ways than one).

You wept for the innocence you lost to the twin emperors (and how you mercilessly killed them).

You wept and wept, until you felt bile claw its way up your throat and out of your mouth.

The tears did not stop even after you were finished.

Two hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you tried to tear yourself away with a sharp cry. You were turned around, and even though your tears blinded you, you could see that it was Lucius.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes grown.

You couldn’t speak clearly, only shaking your head and saying ‘No’ over and over. Lucius led you to the water pump and sat you down by it. Cranking the handle until the water flowed freely, he cupped his hand to catch some of it before gently washing your face.

The cool water grounded you, and your sobs began to slow. Once you were only left with shallow breathing and a stuffed nose, Lucius finally sat beside you.

“What happened?” He asked again, although, returning to his normal, straight-toned self.

“Bad dream.” Was all you said.

He said nothing at first. Then, looking down at the grass beneath him, he said. “Would talking about it help you?”

It was meant to be a helpful question, but it only angered you. “You ask that now? After I run out into the night screaming?”

Lucius squinted his eyes. “Why does that bother you?”

“I know you have nightmares too.” You scoffed. “I have asked you dozens of times if you wish to talk to me about them, and you have always said no. You’ve never once asked me about mine, so how dare you expect me to tell you about it now when you cannot even share yours with me!”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head.

You stood up, walking back to the house. “You’re right, it isn’t fair.”

He jumped to his feet. “You can’t walk away without telling me why this is troubling you.”

“You first.”

“What?”

You turned to face him. “We are to be married in less than a year, at least ‘In the eyes of Rome’ as you say, yet you do not even look at me anymore!”

His shoulders fell, and he shook his head. “I am looking at you-.”

“-I ask you how you are these days, and you lie to me every time.” You interrupted. “The few instances you allow me to work beside you, you criticize every little thing I do. I understand that I am the farthest thing you wanted for as a wife-.”

 It was that word that struck a chord. Despite saying it every so often those past few months…it was only then it occurred to you that where Lucius was your first husband…you were not his first wife.

He tore his gaze away from yours, as if he knew you had figured it out. You sighed. “Gods above…I’m sorry for what has happened to her, and I will never know the loss of a love like that…but I cannot be viewed as her replacement-.”

“-Who told you that you were?” He sharpened his tone.

You swallowed, knowing that this would all end in tears no matter what you said. “You do not tell me anything. I will never ask you to care for me the way you cared for her, but she is gone-.”

“-I couldn’t do anything after she died but weep and watch her body float into the ocean.” He hissed. “I vowed to kill the man that slaughtered her, and I didn’t. It had been perhaps just a month since her death, did I promise myself to another woman. I have dishonored her memory three times.”

“I do not know how long you need me to apologize for something I could not control, but I will if that means you will stop hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You hate that I will be your wife!” Your voice was growing hoarse. “I don’t understand it at all. I will be whatever it is you wish me to be in few months’ time, because you will own me. Even if you wish me to be dead, it shall be done because what I want will not matter-.”

“-Must you make everything about yourself?!” He finally yelled. “Would it soothe you if I said I despised every part of you? That if Jupiter himself came down and offered me my old life in exchange for you, I would give you up to him?! Would it give you any peace of mind if I told you I would have rather died in the arena than live a thousand years with you?”

You had expected him to at least pause after he made his confession. To at least have the courage to look you in the eye and watch as the words sunk into your being. Yet, as soon as he finished, he stomped back to the house; and you were alone outside again.

The tears upon your face glimmered from the light in the sky above you, for all you could do was stare at the little farmhouse Lucius had built for you.

How strange that something you once saw as a sign of devotion, was now revealed to be one of complicity.

He had admitted his disdain for your future marriage. You knew that it would be loveless (you would never escape that), but you wished at least for respect. Seeing as how you were not even going to have that, you dragged your feet over to the tree where your horse was tied up.  Mounting her with nothing but the clothes on your back, you raced down the pathway.

For the first day, you had stayed at Diana and Atticus’ farm. You said nothing about Lucius, and tried to spend the most time with the children to avoid any questions.

On the second day, you finally went back to the city. Even though the man in charge of you yelled louder than Lucius had at you, it did not phase you. You merely nodded and returned to work. With what money they paid you for the day, you spent it on a room at the safest inn you could find. You had another nightmare that night. Not as horrible as the one two days prior, but awful enough for you to lay awake until the sun rose.

The third day seemed to be ordinary, until you finished your job, and you were promenading along the market. As you eyed the fruit at Isidorus’ stand, a man came to stand beside you.

“Good sir,” you heard Lucius’ voice. “do you have a wife?”

Isidorus nodded. “I do.”

“What from your stand would you give her if she was angry at you?”

He eyed you before smiling at Lucius. “My ears to listen.”

You turned, promptly walking away. Of course, Lucius followed.

“I didn’t know you confided into strangers about our qualms.”

“He’s not a stranger.” you kept trying to lose him. “And gifts will not suffice for an apology this time.”

He got in front of you, uttering your name. You stopped, sighing. “What else have you come to say to me?”

“That I am a fool.”

Although you weren’t necessarily expecting him to admit it, you only nodded. “You very much are.”

He began. “For my entire life, I was not allowed to be entirely truthful with others. Whether it was how I felt in the moment, or even my own name. I’m not used to the freedom of being candid with one another. And I have been mistreating you; I have provided a home, but I haven’t provided your wellbeing. Ari-.” Lucius paused, breathing through his nose. “Arishat and I lived on a farm, that was all I knew while being a husband. I will love her until the end of my days, but that does not give me the right to neglect you. I will…I will try with all my being to share my thoughts with you.”

You stared at him, feeling as if you would blink, and you would awaken from another dream. Yet once you did and saw that he was still in front of you, you said.

“I didn’t mean to insult your memory of her.”

He shook his head. “I believe she would hit me if she were here and saw how I treated you.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “Truly, for everything. I…it’s not only you, I don’t know if I will ever feel like myself after…everything.”

Lucius already knew. Still, looking around himself, he then said. “Where is your horse?”

“The inn I’ve been staying at has a stable. You walked the whole way here?”

“It’s what I deserved.”

“You smell horrible.” You mustered a shy grin.

He mirrored you, looking away. “I have for a while.”

“I do as well. I was…I was going to brave the baths; would you like to join me?”

Your offer took him by surprise. Usually, a question like that would be an invitation to more salacious activities to take place. Still, what took him aback more was how you were initially so afraid of the public baths, yet there you were.

“I shall.” He agreed.

Thus, the two of you walked beside one another. There were many baths in Rome, yet it would be challenging to find one that had a separate bath for women and one for men. By the time you reached the third bathhouse, you sighed.

“This will do.”

Lucius shook his head. “I’ll ask the workers at this one if they know-.”

“-No.” You stopped him. “It’s fine. I wish to speak more with you.”

He was still hesitant, but gave in. The two of you entered and drifted off to the separate changing rooms. It was strange that the bathhouse had rooms for the different sex to disrobe, but not baths itself.

After locking your clothes away, you ventured out into the main pool. You were welcomed to an array of naked bodies. You weren’t entirely innocent of course, even before everything. You were never to see any of these people again; it was Lucius you would live with.

Quickly, you disappeared half of your body under the surface of the water and clung to the wall of the large bath. Other people around you laughed and socialized, only putting you more in the eyes of men who only came to the baths for one thing.

Yet, before you could take a moment to worry, your eyes fell to Lucius who entered. You soon averted them and felt the water shift beside you as he entered. You turned to look at him, leveling yourself with the side of the pool, essentially shoulder to shoulder with him. The hear radiating off of his body onto yours reminded you too much of that night months ago; the one where you whispered your name into his ear.

“What were you like as a boy?” You questioned in an attempt to hide how flustered you were.

He hummed. “Why do you ask?”

“If you wish to be more honest with me, than I think it should be best to stary with something minor.”

“I understand. I was spoiled growing up in the palace. Still, I wished nothing more than for adventure. All my life, the mere thought of war and battles were taught as a way to bring glory to the empire; pride for one’s family. I had gotten my foolish wish when Maximus died, and my mother sent me away from Rome.” He paused momentarily, before continuing. “I ran all across the land until I was thirteen, where I finally settled in Numidia. I had changed my named too many times to count and settled upon Hanno.”

Your attention did not waver for a moment. When he was finished you asked. “How old were you when you left?”

“Eight…” There was a sad silence between the two of you. A silence held in almost reverence for all the troubles he had been through. “What about you?”

Even with your uneasiness to answer your starkly different childhood, you did so; also have been promising to be honest with him. You spoke of your father, your past friends, the house you grew up in. He never once looked upon you with envy or hatred.

“Your father sounded like a good man.” He said.

“He was.” You nodded, feeling a weight settle in your chest. "I think he would have liked you.”

“I can only hope.”

The conversation halted after that, unknown if you should wait for him to ask a question, or for you to ask another. Both of your eyes drifted around the bath house as people filtered in and out. When your gaze fell back onto Lucius’ you watched his eyes flicker to something behind you. Before you could utter a word, he placed his hand upon your bare back, bringing his lips to the space between your ear and your jaw.

It all happened so fast you had no time to react, and your body shivered upon the feel of him being so close to you.

“There’s a man eyeing you from behind.” He whispered into your skin. “Don’t look at him, just keep looking at me. I’m sorry.”

You pulled away slightly, doing as he told. He traced circles on your back with his thumb, staring intently at you. Even as you shrunk under his eyes, they did not frighten you.

Deciding to play along, you trailed your hand up his bare arm until resting on his shoulder. You felt his skin erupt into goosebumps and he took a sharp intake of breath.

“Okay?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just…it’s been a while.”

Anyone with any sense knew that meant more than one thing. It had been a while since he felt anyone’s touch; nonetheless, a naked woman’s.

From behind him, you saw a small group of girls all looking at you. They all looked a little younger than you, and acted like so, giggling loudly and talking without a care in the world. It was only then that you noticed they were looking at Lucius.

“Is there someone eyeing me now?” He attempted to tease you when he noticed your gaze.

You nodded, no hint of humor behind your voice. “A good few of them.”

“Is that so?”

You removed your hand. “I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“Wouldn’t mind what?” He pinched his eyebrows together.

“…Getting your release from a woman that isn’t me.” You were puzzled by his seeming ignorance. “You’re a man, I understand-.”

He said your name with somewhat of gasp. You didn’t listen one bit.

“No, I mean it. I will not be more selfish than I already have been, expecting you to remain celibate because I don’t think I will-.”

Lucius said your name again and you stopped. Even when you did, he said it a third time as if to know he had your attention. He continued to run his fingers up and down your back.

“I will not dishonor you-.”

“-I have been dishonored several times before, it does not matter-.”

“-Listen to me.” He said softly yet firmly. “Even if I desired someone carnally, it is not selfish of you to want my loyalty. I’m not a boy who wishes to bed anything that breathes. I don’t think I can do so with someone I do not have any deep feelings for. You are my wife, and I will not treat you less.”

He didn’t call you his ‘betrothed’. As if, the moment you accepted his apology, you were already his other half. To hear him speak with so much certainty after neither of you knowing what any day would bring…it brought an astonishing comfort you never knew you needed.

“Thank you.” You felt like your heart could beat again.

“You don’t-.”

“-No but I do. I don’t…I don’t think I could give you anything of myself if you wanted it. It’s still…I remember a lot of what Geta did to me, and I forgot it at the same time. It doesn’t happen a lot in my nightmares, but it still does. That one night you found me he…he cut out my womb and held it in his hands. I thought I woke up, but I didn’t, and I think I was in Elysian Fields, but I only saw a shadow. I don’t know what any of that means.”

Lucius let you finish all of the anxiety you had thrown onto him. Still, releasing a shallow breath, he said.

“You die in most of my dreams.” He clarified. “The bad ones, I mean. A lot of people do, but you’ve been in them the most. There are times I see both you and Arishat, or my mother, or all three of you and…those are the worst. The night I found you outside, I couldn’t…I had a horrible dream that I couldn’t even see your face, but I knew it was you when I found you hanging in the Colosseum.”

If the both of you weren’t naked and, in the bathhouse, you would have embraced him. Yet, with the most understanding look in your eyes, you brought your hand to the base of his neck, his loose curls between your fingers. You swore you felt him relax into your touch for just a moment.

“I’ve known everyone to have their own beliefs of dreams.” You whispered. “They’re meant to predict the future, they reflect the past, they are punishments, they are blessings, and they mean nothing. I wonder if it’s possible they are all of them.”

He nodded. “I don’t know what I believe in anymore.”

“I do.” Lucius unknowingly leaned into you just ever so slightly. You grinned from ear to ear, pulling your hand away from him. “I believe you need to cut your hair.”

He chortled. “I’m not spending anything on cutting it. It’s fine.”

“I’ll cut it then.”

“I would rather be stabbed.”

“Oh, quit being dramatic.” you playfully swatted him. “There’s a reason I would’ve been a better hairdresser than tailor.”

The two of you teased one another for a minute longer after that. Than, even though the conversation died, it was not in vain. There was a quiet gentleness and protectiveness as you both shared a short distance between each other while bathing. Lucius kept his eye on you more than you did him, knowing that it was always possible a man could try to take advantage of you.

When all was said and done, you got your horse from the stable at the inn, and the two of you rode back to the farm with a newfound understanding of each other.

More than a year and a half have passed since the fall of the Roman Empire and its subsequent birth of the Republic. Your strange marriage with Lucius grew into a friendship of respect and understanding. You both talked more than you had when you were first betrothed, even if your busy schedules remained the same.

The farm had improved after its first harvest, even raising enough money to build a chicken coop and house a few chickens. The house itself was more furnished, and the two of you managed to purchase a bathtub, no longer needing to use the public ones in the city.

Both of you had changed as well. Even with what minimal farm work you did, it built both your strength and stamina. Lucius had begun to grow out his facial hair; not much for it to be an actual beard, but more so just under his nose. You’d joke about it looking like a caterpillar, to which he would lightly shove you away.

After the intimate discussion the two of you shared, it was only then you both realized you still didn’t know much about each other. Most importantly, the little things that made each of you a person.

So, you’d take time to get to know one another.

You were helping Lucius pull weeds around the crops when you found out he had ripped a monkey’s throat out with his teeth during his very first gladiator fight.

You were reading a collection of poetry one night when Lucius told you that you mouth the words of whatever you’re reading if you find it most interesting.

During supper one night, Lucius ate the entirety of the plate only to then eat whatever else you hadn’t. That was when your theory was proven right; he does forget to eat sometimes.

Both of you had tried to keep the housework to an equal amount; if he cooked one night, you’d clean the kitchen and vice versa. Yet, some remained stagnant; you always cut his hair, yet he always changed the horses’ shoes.

Cutting his hair was perhaps your favorite way to speak with him.

“Remember to clean your sandals before coming in next time.” He reminded you as he sat on a tree trunk outside. “You tracked in mud.”

Standing behind him while trimming small hairs, you shook your head. “My apologies, master of the house; it was downpouring and I was freezing.”

“Serves you right, I’d say.”

You placed the tip of the shears against his neck. “What else do you have to say?”

He snickered. “That you’re an astonishing woman who I am blessed to be with."

“Wrong answer, all lies.” You pretended to stab him, only to bring the shears back to his hair.

“I’m not lying!” Lucius laughed.

You only gave him a ‘tsk’ before continuing. “Are you sleeping any better?”

He said nothing at first. Your eyes drifted down to his hands and saw him pull on his tunic; another telltale sign of his nervousness.

“I keep seeing my mother’s face.” He admitted. “Only her face, nothing else.”

“It was the third night last night, right?”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “Would you want to hear a dream I had a few days ago to make you feel better?”

“Better because it was happy, or because you think I’ll feel happy I wasn’t you?”

“The latter.”

“Tell me.”

You turned his head to the side gently, continuing your work. “I stood in front of the entire senate of Rome, and they were all laughing at me. I don’t even know what I said, they only laughed and laughed.”

“Is that not what happened to you in the waking day?”

“No, they listened…I think.” You shook our head. “It more so angers me that, in the waking life, I presented logic to them, and they still chose Macrinus who showed nothing of the sort.”

“Some men like to speak of only desiring logic yet run away with their emotions once it is presented.” Lucius stated. “What had you told them?”

“That all of Rome would continue to riot if they killed Lucilla.” You said grimly. “I still don’t understand; they had their proof of the rage Rome’s children could feel when their general was killed, the only reason the city did not fall was because Macrinus was slain. I’m done.”

You set your shears down and Lucius stood, shaking the fallen hair off his clothes. He turned to you.

“If it matters at all, I think the only reason this house hasn’t fallen is because of you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shoved him playfully. “Away with you, you’re just as much of the reason as I am.”

“I do all that I can.”

There were moments like this where you would not speak of childhood memories or events of your day. These moments were reserved for the days where it felt like time slowed down just to give you two the grace to speak about them in more detail.

With only a single candle between the two of you one quiet night, you told him how you have to walk a different path in the city sometimes simply to avoid brothels; hating the sounds you would hear from inside, the stench of cheap perfume and sweating bodies burning your nose, the men who would brag to their friends about the women they had.

At breakfast one day, before the sun had even rose, Lucius told you about a time when he was ten, still on the run. He had gone into a man’s house with the promise of food, only to then be hit the head with something so heavy, he was knocked out. He had awoken in a dark room, but managed to find a curtained window, and escaped. He never knew what would have happened to him if he had woken up just a minute later.

There was tenderness you shared with him that you had never shared with anyone in your life.You sht

That was only more apparent on one fateful day.

The first bad omen for the day that morning was when you had run out of sugar for breakfast. The second was when your horse was extra stubborn as you rode her into the city; it was so out of the ordinary, you wondered if you did something to make her hate you.

Still, everything was fine once you went to work. At least it was for the first half of the day.

There were aggressive people from across the land coming into the city you certainly had to deal with, but the worst was when a man twice your size bluffed you with a slap. Even so, the other men you worked with had yelled and sent him away.

That day though…there was a woman with a look in her eyes.

You thought you had seen pure rage when you had been with Geta. Yet, that day was a lesson to you; wrath had many faces.

She mumbled in Greek, but you did not know what she said at first. Then, she attempted to speak Latin. You politely told her you could speak Greek, and so with exhaustion, she told you that she was going to visit her mother.

When asked for her mother’s name, she didn’t say it. After asking again, she became enraged, yelling at you that she should just be able to be let in. When you resisted, she grabbed your bad arm, yanking it to pull you closer to her.

The pain shot through your shoulder like a bolt of lightning, and you cried out. She tugged on your hair as the men beside you tried to pry her away from you. Luckily, she didn’t manage to yank any of it out once the men forced her away from you. Tears fell freely over your face as you cradled yourself, unable to stop the sobs from leaving your lips.

They let you leave early yet paid you as if you were there the whole day.

The ride back to the farm wasn’t any better, but at least your steed took notice of your heartache and was more merciful to you. When you made it home, you slowed her down when you saw Lucius limping towards the house.

You both stopped where you were, staring at one another as if you weren’t supposed to be seeing the other.

“Why are you back so early?” He asked first.

“Why are you dragging your foot?” You asked second.

Lucius took a deep breath, and you saw tears in his eyes. “I fell.”

The only time you had seen him cry was when burying Lucilla; it wouldn’t be from simply falling. You slowly pulled yourself off your horse but did so quick enough before he could rush to help you. You wished nothing more than to pull him into the warmth of the house, to sit him down and tend to his wound to distract you from your own.

Yet, the moment you took his hand, he began to weep.

“Oh Lucius.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to cradle his face. He wrapped both of his arms around you, bringing you onto the ground with him. You yelped a little when he squeezed your bad shoulder too tight, and he pulled away.

“What happened?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You need-.”

“-What happened?!”

Knowing he wouldn’t stop asking, you told him. “Someone at the gate attacked me. Pulled on my bad arm, my hair…it wasn’t as bad as you’d think-.”

“-Where is he?” He lowered his tone and his demeanor.

Your jaw dropped into a surprised huff. “She is long gone by now, and even if she wasn’t then as my husband, you should stay with me instead of wandering the streets of Rome hoping to find someone to be your anger’s victim!”

Though he still wore that rage upon his face, it soon fell once he saw your own tears fall from your eyes like dewdrops on flowers. Lucius laid himself flat on the dirt, and you sat above him.

“I have been married to you longer than I had been to Arishat.” He confessed. “I knew her for longer, but-but not as deeply; no, I-I knew her more than…I don’t…It’s been long since her death, yet there are moments I think of her, and I cannot stop crying.”

You never knew this was in his heart. You knew to never speak of Arishat, only listen whenever he would bring her up (even so, it was once in a blue moon).

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled, trying to pull himself together. “I know she is gone, and I shouldn’t be-.”

“-You shouldn’t what?” You interrupted. “Remember her? You think I wish for you to forget the woman you so loved?”

He shook his head. “No, but it’s selfish of me to-.”

You were the one to make him lose his words this time. With both hesitation certainty, you placed his head into your lap. It was too late for you to stop once you did, and you felt your own body tense. Then, upon taking a look at his body battered from rigorous work, and another at his face, which relaxed with his eyes fully shut, you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Lucius,” you sighed. “never will I think you are a horrible man for mourning her. You missing her shows just how much you adored her, and how she was a treasure to you. In another life, above all, I wish I could have met her. You are not in the wrong for wanting to see her again. I know you do not love me-.”

“-I do love you.” He opened his eyes upon saying it.

Your heart felt as if it was going to beat itself out of your chest and run away when he said those four words. To preserve your sanity, you took it a different way and smiled sadly.

“Not in the way you loved her.” You said softly. “But what else more can I ask for in a husband than one who treats me with a gentleness I did not know was possible? One who has been there to protect me even before we were married?”

Lucius took a deep breath, rubbing his face to clear away his tears. “You’re too good to me.”

“Gods above,” you groaned tiredly. “we can go back and forth on who deserves each other. Let us just go back into the house, have supper, and sleep.”

“I would like that.” He hissed as he went to stand.

Helping him, once he was on his best foot, you said. “You never told me what you did to your leg.”

He looked behind him at the field. “There was a snake and a rock.”

You gave him a look. “And what happened with them?”

“I don’t wish to speak of it.” He said grimly.

In any other instance, you would have laughed. Yet, as his eyes were still heavy from crying, you just nodded. The both of you helped each other into the house, and you sat him down on one of the several cushions in the living area.

“Your arm,” he asked. “how bad is it?”

You shook your head. “Just really sore. I think she might have left a nasty bruise or two somewhere, but I won’t know yet.”

“Put one of the cloths in the pot with water and put it over the fire.” He told. “Take it out after a few minutes, let it rest for another, then put it on your shoulder. It should help.”

“Thank you.” You stood, doing so, saying. “I swore we had bandages somewhere. I’ll make something for you to drink too; I bought some herbs just last week.”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you as you worked. If it were any other man, you would have felt unsafe; yet, it was only Lucius.

Little by little that night, both of you helped heal one another.

Half a year passed since that night, and you and Lucius had only grown closer. Perhaps as close as you could be with a man who was not your husband by choice.

Not much on the farm had changed; you two were living comfortably, and happily, almost making all the turmoil from the first year worth it. The both of you decided to make more visits to Atticus and Diana’s home, realizing just how much you both missed having someone to talk to outside of each other; but that did not mean you had to keep things hidden of course.

If anything, you shared everything with each other.

So much so, that when Lucius asked you why you held onto him longer when he embraced you on your birthday, you told him the truth.

“I don’t want every time we touch to be when it is in turmoil.” You explained, growing meeker. “And I…I’ve missed the feeling of it when it has not been forced upon me.”

Lucius stared at you with a look you had never seen from him. He had been gentle with you many a times, but they way his eyes fell into yours…

He took a step closer to you, and when you showed no sign of discomfort, he took your face into his hands. Your eyes shut at the feeling of him, and he pressed his head against yours. Never in your life had someone’s breath upon your skin feel so immaculate.

From there on out, it always seemed like you had to have a hand on each other one way or another.

It started with holding hands whenever walking through the city together. He used to ‘lead’ you through the crowds in the past, but more so with a hand hovering over your back. No, him holding your hand meant he would have to go where you would go if anything were to happen.

Alongside this, he’d reach over and hold it at Atticus and Diana’s house; whether it was during dinner, or simply just talking. The eldest child had said what the rest of the household had been thinking.

“They’re finally acting like they’re married!”

Because even when there were no other eyes besides yours, he would still hold your hand. You wonder if it ever became a way for Lucius to ground himself; because it certainly did for you.

You hugged him more often as well. Those used to be for ‘substantial’ occasions; those being celebrations or heartbreaks. Now, they were incorporated into greetings and goodbyes. Of course, it only took a few weeks before they were than made into simple desires.

He would be cooking dinner, and you would come beside him to embrace him. You would be gathering eggs from the chickens, and he would wait for you to set the basket down before tossing his arms around you.

At night, it was normal for you both to trade spots as one of you would read a story, and the other would have their head in the other’s lap.

This happened on so many occasions, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise for what Lucius proposed next, but it did.

“If you don’t favor the question I’m about to ask you, then you are allowed to never speak to me again.” He said, his feet hanging off the arm of the lecti couch you both bought that year.

“Well,” you scoffed, sitting on the end of it. “I will have to speak to you again because we live together.”

“Would you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Never in your life had you thought that would have been his question. When you didn’t speak right away, he backtracked. “I don’t expect you to. I understand if-.”

“-The nights are growing colder.” You stated, no visible uneasiness. “I’ve noticed it, and I don’t think any number of blankets could warm me.”

He swallowed thickly, and this was perhaps one of the first times you’d ever seen him like this. “Yes…it’s cold.”

You nodded, and another beat of silence fell between you two. Standing up, you tugged at the seams of your dress. “I-I’ll go change.”

“Yes,” he sat up. “I shall as well.”

Disappearing into your room, you tossed your day clothes off then slipped on a nightdress. After pacing around the floor for a few moments, you gathered the courage to go out into the hall and knock on Lucius’ door.

It was opened as if he was standing right behind it.

He wore just a plain, tattered tunic, and said nothing; yet, you caught his eyes run down you before immediately bringing them back to your face. You were not even in his room yet, and already your body grew warmer.

“May I come in?” You asked.

“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside and you entered.

Somehow, you were no longer man and wife; you were two people who had just discovered a strange, yet burning, feeling that you both held for one another. A feeling that you were both afraid to say aloud…because then it would be real.

The only light in his room was from the moon just peeking through the curtain of his one window. Looking around, you saw that it was still just the bare minimum; a bed, a small table beside it with a lamp, and a dresser. The only others things of note were his sword leaning against the wall, and just a few dirty clothes on the floor.

“I-I tried to clean before you came.” He mentioned.

“Is the rest under the bed?” You asked.

He chuckled. “Yes.”

Before you could change your mind, you pulled the covers off one side of the bed and slid under them. Glancing behind at Lucius, you saw him wear a look where you knew he wanted to say something.

“What is it?” You asked.

“That’s usually the side I sleep on but-.”

You rolled over to the other side. “Are you content now?”

He wheezed, moving to his designated side, slipping under the covers. “Very.”

“Good.” You smiled up at him.

His own mouth lowered as you could see him thinking. He then said. “I don’t expect us to do anything.”

You watched as his eyes dropped from you, as if it was too invasive just to merely look. Thinking from only your heart, you scooted closer, resting your hand on his arm. You ran your fingers up and down his muscles, but then guided his arm to wrap around your waist.

“Okay?”

He hummed, pulling you just a little closer. “Yes.”

“And we’ll just lay together?” You whispered. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

And that’s what you did. The compete truth was that you would caress him only to remind yourself that it was Lucius and not Geta. His arms, his back, his face…he was nothing like him.

After a few more nights, you told him that as you both lay awake, unable to sleep. He had pulled you on top of him that night, saying that you could see his face better in the moonlight. You only giggled, hiding your face in his chest; even that was too much for you.

It was easier to tell each other things in the darkness. You always knew that, but with being in the same bed (you had not gone back to your room for a week), the words flowed out of both your mouths.

“After my father died,” you said one night as you laid on your side facing him. “I would stroke my own hair or even my arms and pretend they were someone else’s. Even when I was with Geta.”

Lucius stared at you, then immediately began to caress your cheek. You shut your eyes, sighing at the feeling.

“I never thought I’d be able to sleep next to another woman again.” He whispered.

“And now?” You looked into his eyes.

He stopped his movements, but did not remove his hand. You watched every part of him. How his chest heaved shallowly, his arms tensing ever so slightly, but his eyes…gods his eyes. They were heavy as they looked at you; a look that made your heart flutter and not shutter.

Swallowing your fear, you sat up and inched closer to him. Your face hovered above his, and your breath heated his skin. His hand continued to trace shapes about your cheek, and shutting your eyes, you placed your lips upon his.

It was the gentlest kiss you ever shared with a man.

You had pulled away, dreading to see how he felt. When your eyes befell his gentle smile, and his other hand came up to cup your face, you kissed him again.

And again, and again, and again.

You climbed upon his lap without pulling your lips away from him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sat up, his own arm encircling your waist and drawing you impossibly closer.

Lucius parted from you, and as you whined at the loss of his lips, they soon settled upon your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your chin. Your heavy pants turned to soft grunts as he kissed down your neck, his mustache scratching your skin in just the right way.

Your hands settled into his hair the lower he traveled, moving your night gown off your shoulder to kiss your collarbone. You felt yourself becoming intoxicated from him, and only then noticed you had been for a while.

Oh, how you wished you could bottle up his laugh, his strength, his stubbornness, and get drunk every night. His kisses only added fuel to the fire that was your desire for him.

He sunk his teeth into your skin, and your body, once enflamed, ran cold.

“No!” You tore yourself from his lap, nearly falling off the bed.

Lucius said your name, leaning forward on instinct but soon stopped once he saw you crawl away. “I’m sorry.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. All you knew was that you needed to go, so you did. Cradling yourself in your arms, you got up from his bed, rushing out of his room and into yours.

You half expected him to knock on the door, then, when you wouldn’t answer, him yell and curse you before breaking it down. Yet nothing of the sort happened. You heard his own door open, and you saw his shadow on the other side, but he did not touch your door. He left after a moment of waiting.

When his own door shut, did you finally cry.

You told yourself that night, you would wake up far earlier than Lucius would so you simply wouldn’t have to see him.

When you awoke, you did the exact opposite. You laid in your bed, trying to return to sleep, only to be forced to lie in the dark. The sun rose into your room, and you heard Lucius’ door open. Still, you did not get up.

It was quite comedic, actually. With your door still shut, he knew you were still home. How he tried his best to keep quiet for you, yet his footsteps had always been heavy, the front door had always creaked, and you could always hear him cursing under his breath every time.

When you knew he had left the house, that was when you stood from your bed, slipping on your sandals. You didn’t bother changing out of your nightdress, leaving your room, and then the house.

Lucius was amongst the chickens when he saw you. He didn’t bother hiding the surprise upon his face at the sight of you. You walked to him until there was little space between you.

“Last night-.”

You took his hand from his side, placing it upon your face. He rubbed your cheek with his thumb as if it was natural. Kissing the palm of his hand, you trailed it down to your clothed breast. He breathed your name with hesitance, but you shushed him. You held his hand there, not taking your eyes off him.

“I will show you, one day.” You told him. “I will show you the mark Geta had made. The one where I myself can scarcely see it, yet I know that it haunts me. But now…” You brought your other hand up to his face, tracing your thumb over his lip. “I just want you to understand.”

He kissed the pad of your thumb, nodding. You embraced him, and he held you with both gentleness and ferocity. The rest of the day carried on as normal, yet you aided him with the chores on the farm.

You went to bed with him that night, but it was the first time he did not entrap you in his arms. You knew he was still afraid of hurting you, but you would be a liar if you said you weren’t thankful for the space.

Still, he would feel your touch every day; whether it was something as small as brushing his hand, or as substantial as kissing his cheek.

As the both of you lay awake one night, you played with the sleeve of his tunic.

“Could I lie on top of you?” You asked.

Lucius looked over at you, nodding. “You never need to ask.”

“I want to.” You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. “I never want to force you to do anything.”

His eyes fell to your hips before returning them to your face. “I’ll tell you if I wish to not do something. I hope you know you can as well.”

“I do. Would you like to touch me?”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

You moved his hands to your hips, which he held firmly, yet not enough to hurt you. You leaned down so your lips touched his.

“No teeth.” You said.

“No teeth.” He repeated.

Lucius sighed into your mouth as you kissed. Despite how you were on top of him, the kiss was sweet, shy even. When you pulled away, you trailed your lips from his cheek to his ear.

“Do you dream about me?” You rasped.

He said nothing, and you continued to kiss every part of his face besides his lips.

“It’s okay.” You kissed his Adam’s Apple. “I want you too.”

“Yes.” His breath hitched.

“What was I doing in your favorite one?” You kissed his pulse point.

“You,” he breathed sharply through his nose. “you’re touching yourself.”

“Would that please you?” You sat up in somewhat surprise, resting your hands on his chest. “To watch me do so?”

He shook his head. “I want to do what pleases you.”

It felt foreign to hear someone say they want you to feel good. Instead of cowering from it, you faced it head on. You kneeled for a moment, hiking your gown up to your hips before sitting back on your ankles,  exposing yourself to him. Lucius’ jaw clenched at the sight of your naked center, and he drew his hands away from your hips, falling them into fists upon the mattress.

“I wish to watch you as you watch me.”

Without looking away from you, he drew his hand down to his cock, pulling it out from under his tunic. Your eyes grew just a hint. There was no doubt upon him being more well-endowed than others, but it was still different from how you imagined.

Shutting your eyes, you trailed your fingers over your cunt, your thumb playing with your clit. The sounds of Lucius’ smothered grunts, and the skin of his cock on his fingers only added to your pleasure. Digging deeper and moving faster, you felt a coil within your stomach tighten when you opened your eyes and saw as Lucius’ gaze bore into yours.

Light moans escaped your lips as your hips moved with a mind of their own, watching the man beneath you take pleasure from his own hand. It was him chanting your name like a prayer that sent you over the edge. With your eyes shut, the coil within you snapped, and pleasure filled your veins.

Not long after, you felt a warmth coat your nightdress. Opening your eyes, you looked down and saw the white-hot residue of Lucius’ release. Your gaze drew to his cock, still clutched in his hand, yet red with droplets of white running over his knuckles.

You don’t know what possessed you to, but you lowered your mouth down to clean him with your tongue.

“Gods be good!” He huffed, laughing your name.

“What?” You wiped your mouth.

 “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Grinning like the devil, you slid off the bed, walking towards the door. “I hope it’s a pleasant one then.”

He sat up. “Where are you going?”

“To change. You dirtied me as well.” You teased.

“Take one of my tunics from the dresser.”

It almost made you laugh that he didn’t want you to leave for even a second. You opened the top drawer, grabbing the longest tunic you could find before facing him. “Close your eyes.”

He laid on his side, putting a pillow over his head. Many would find it strange how the both of you would see the most intimate parts of yourself while doing one of the most intimate acts together, yet you didn’t want him to see you naked.

But Lucius never thought of it as strange. He knew what you had been through, and never once judged you.

When you were clothed, you slid into bed, wrapping your arms around his body and pressing a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“You’re a good man, Lucius Verus Aurelius.” You whispered. “I will tell you that until the day you die, or when you finally believe me.”

He squeezed your hand, relaxing into your touch. You never slept so peacefully until that night.

You always had to see him whenever he would touch you so intimately. There would be nights where there was only a single candle in the room either while he caressed the swell of our breasts, or the inside of your thigh as you sat on his lap.

His fingers were too much for you at first, but he never ridiculed you. When you whimpered at the feeling, he retracted them, kissing your eyes. You asked him again to try, and he whispered praises into your hair as the pain from a dry spell soon turned into pleasure.

It was usually at night did these moments of exploration occurred. In the day, the most you would ever do was kiss. That is, until the first time you cut his hair since the discovery of feelings.

“I don’t want to get hair on your floor.” Lucius said as he sat on the floor, leaning his back against the foot of your bed. It was hotter than sin that day. He wore nothing but a loincloth, but that barely did anything to help him from the heat. You wore essentially a thin shift that would usually be under your dress; yet again, because of the heat, that was all you wore.

You sat on the bed, legs draped over his shoulders as you cut his hair. “It’s your floor too. You built the house.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I haven’t slept here for a while now. Besides, I will clean up.”

“I had no idea you favored doing domestic work now.” He turned and pressed a kiss to your knee.

You slapped the back of his head. “Don’t move! I’ll give you a bald spot if you do so again.”

“Yes, my mistress of the house.” He joked.

“You’re horrible.”

“You just told me I was a good man not so long ago.”

“And I can just as easily revoke that title.”

He stayed silent the rest of the time, but not from any underlining anger. Simply from his at ease posture, you knew he was smiling.

He smiled more those days.

When you were finished, you tossed your scissors aside, but Lucius’ hands settled upon your thighs, not allowing you to get up. You scoffed.

“What is it?”

He turned to face you, kneeling up to meet you. “I wish to try something, but only if you wish it as well.”

You rose your brow, but smiled, kissing his nose. “It will be difficult if I do not know what it is.”

Without drawing his eyes away from yours, he slid his hands up your thighs, bringing the bottom of your shift with it. It seemed normal at first, but once he lowered his mouth, your chest tightened.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I want to kiss you there.” His breath caressed your cunt and you mewled at the feeling. “I think you’ll enjoy it, but we don’t have to.”

Your heart changed from beating in fear, to then in anticipation. You loved how he kissed your lips, and every inch of your skin that was not covered, what would it feel like to have his lips there?

Kissing the top of his head, you laid on your elbows, nodding.

“Let me hear you say it.” He nosed the inside of your thigh.

“Yes.” You sighed. “Please.”

He lowered his mouth back down, pressing the lightest of kissed onto your center. You groaned through shut lips, only for them to part open as the hairs of his mustache tickled you whilst he began to lap at your wetness.

Tossing your head back, you sat up, running your hands through his hair, unconsciously rolling your hips to meet his mouth. His groan reverberated through your body, only adding to the pleasure you were feeling.

“Lucius, Lucius,” you babbled his name until it didn’t sound like a word.

His nose bumped against your aching clit the same time his tongue penetrated your cunt. You yelped as that familiar, tightening feeling swept over you. His half-lidded eyes would stare up at you every once in a while, as he would continue to drink from you as if he had been stranded in the desert. Just as you were on the brink of release, you drew him away from you.

“What-what is it?” He huffed. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, pressing your lips to his before scooting further up the bed. With one last breath, you pulled your shift over your head, revealing your bare body to him. His gaze ran over your figure unashamedly.

“Come here.” You beckoned.

He crawled onto the bed and over your body, yet still looked at your face. You took his hand and laid it over your breast. His body ran cold at what was on the side of it. A bite mark.

“He branded me all those years ago.” You confessed. “And it has not left since.”

Geta…

You ran your hand up his chest. “I love you, and I trust you with every part of my body. I need you to know that.”

“I love you.” He echoed, pressing the tenderest of kisses to the mark and you gasped lightly. “I have for so long now; I…I need you.”

“Then have me.”

He sat back on his knees, unwrapping his loin cloth and tossing it to the floor. Precum leaked from his sweltering cock as it stood upright like a pillar. You crawled over, kissing every inch of his face and climbing into his lap. He drew his arms around your waist, his finger tracing circles into the small of your back.

“I don’t know how long I will last.” He puffed heavily. “It’s been so long.”

“I just want you inside of me.” You kissed his jaw, taking his cock into your hand and sinking down onto it. It had been a while for you too, and while you were soaked, it was not enough to completely subside the tightness. “Just…wait.”

“I could die happy if all you wanted was for me to remain still as you’re above me.” He said into your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin because that was the only way to remind you that he was still there. The further you sunk down on him, the easier and more pleasureful you felt.

“I’m going to move now.” You said into his shoulder, and you did.

Slowly, at first you relished in the quiet slapping of skin and the breath moans leaving both you and Lucius’ lips. He trailed a syrupy line of kisses down your throat until he bowed his head to place them upon your chest.

“Your name,” Lucius said into your skin. “tell me your name.”

You gave him a look as you rolled your hips into his, yet sighed your name.

“Again.” He breathed, latching his lips around the tip of your breast.

You did.

“Again.” He kissed the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into his touch, saying your name a third time.

He repeated your given name, than following it with ‘Aurelias’. Your movements stilled, yet he did not care.

“You are the most cunning woman I have met, and you are my wife.” He stated, never looking away from you. Tears sprang to your eyes when you saw the same for him, and you gave him a messy kiss before resuming faster this time.

After months of being called a name that did not belong to you, especially whenever in the bedroom, Lucius was doing everything to remind you that you were yourself again as you felt pleasure.

It felt as if, after two years, ‘Julia’ was finally gone.

You chanted his name as if it was your favorite prayer, burying your hands in his hair and kissing his lips.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius…”

Because, just like you, how long had it been since his true name was uttered whilst in the throes of pleasure?

He moaned into your mouth, holding onto you tighter. You squealed when he rose up onto his knees, latching your legs around his waist and only crying out sharply when your throbbing clit ran across his pubic hair.

“Come on, come on,” he urged into your ear. “I know you can give it to me.”

“Lu-Lu-!” You moaned, running your nails over the thick field of muscles that was his back.

He said your name over and over again, until it was one word that was the end of you.

“Please.”

You came with your vision blinded from the state of euphoria you had reached. Lucius still held you above him even as his legs began to quake, bouncing you on his cock. You felt as though you were suspended in air when his groans stammered, and you felt strings of his cum paint the walls of your cunt.

Slowly, he lowered the two of you onto the mattress, laying you on your back like you were the most precious treasure in the world. You kept your legs around his waist, breathing with him with your chests glued together from your sweat.

“Lucius-.” You began, trying to shift under him.

“-Just,” he grunted. “just another moment. Please.”

How could you deny him? Every kiss he gave was loving as he laid upon you. His cock had grown soft, and even you were aware that you could’ve fallen asleep if you weren’t careful.

When he pulled away from you, you let out an involuntary whine.

“I thought you wanted me to get off you?” He kissed your stomach when he stood up.

You shoved him playfully. “Just clean me up and come back.”

“So controlling.”

Still, he did what you asked, bringing a soaked washcloth from the bathroom and cleaning you. You groaned out of both the cold water hitting your hot skin, and the heat from the air itself.

“We should’ve waited until night.” You whined.

“Why?”

“I’m suffocating from the air outside!”

Lucius hummed, tossing the washcloth aside and looming over you. “Then that forces us to wear nothing today, so that we might cool down.”

You nodded. “Perhaps you aren’t as feeble minded as I thought.”

He settled behind you, tossing an arm over your waist and pulling your back to his chest. Even though his cock pressed against you, the two of you were completely exhausted from the heat of the day’s work, and the heat of what took place only moments before.

The only sound was that of the cicadas singing in the summertime. Sometimes, a breeze or two of wind would bounce the curtain off the window, but for the most part, just the even breathing you shared with Lucius was all you could hear.

Lucius’ mustache rubbed your skin when he placed a kiss to your neck. “What’s going on inside of your mind right now?”

You grinned. “A proper wife would say that I was thinking of you.”

“But that’s not what it is.”

“It’s something that has nothing to do with anything of note.”

He squeezed you. “Spit it out, woman.”

Sighing, you felt a sense of dread in your heart; both for your thoughts, and also how your husband would react. So, you tried your best to explain it.

“Do you even wonder how you will be remembered?” You began. “Spoken from mouths? Written in books? Painted on walls? They’ll remember Lucius, the Lost Son, the Last Gladiator…What will they remember of me, if anything? Rome’s Cleopatra? Her Delight? A whore to the twin emperors? I like to fantasize that they will name me the first woman who sat upon the emperor’s throne, even if it was as the last of its consul. Yet, even if they name me…I will be Julia. The name of a slave, the name I only accepted when he would press me into the bed so roughly. I only survived because I would need to tell myself that he was doing all of it to Julia, not to me.”

It felt quieter in that room, even though the sounds outside did not cease. Lucius gently turned your body towards him, and he stroked your face with the back of his hand.

“You’re crying,” he uttered your name, frowning.

You wiped your eyes, wanting to hide from him. Yet, he did not allow it, pulling your hands away from you and wrapping them around his shoulders.

“Would you wish I remain silent, or share with you what is in my head?” He asked.

“Talk to me.” You answered.

“I never cared of what history would see of me.” He stated. “Even as a boy. I know that we are different in most aspects of life, but I believe it serves no one to wonder away how we will be viewed long after we are dead. I do not care if or what a stranger thinks of me in a lifetime later. I care how Atticus and Diana see me. I care what their children think. Above all, I care of what you see me to be.”

You pressed your head against his. “You’re pigheaded and quite foolish sometimes.”

“And it matters you say that.” He pulled you closer. “Because that is what you will tell others when I pass on.”

“You know I don’t think that is all you are.” You remined him.

“I do.” He nodded. “I will know you for your wit, and your protective nature, and your kindness.”

“I never truly thought of myself as kind.” You gave a pained smile.

“That is how I see you.” He kissed your brow. “And what I will say with my last dying breath.”

You wondered how such a man as himself could exist at the same time you did. A man who hated you prior to everything yet laid with you in bed. A man who treated you with a tenderness you never thought possible.

A man who could be the last person on earth with you, and you would only feel at peace.

You did not need to say anything to him. Simply by the innocent smile that spread across your lips, did he know. You fell into the most comfortable of silences together as you laid naked in the summer heat.

The both of you were lost to time as we all shall be one day.

Perhaps you lived on that farm for the rest of your days, or perhaps you moved to a different land.

Perhaps you had ten children, perhaps you had only one, or perhaps you had none and were content with each other’s company.

Perhaps you died before him, perhaps he died before you, or perhaps you both passed onto the Elysian fields together.

All that truly matters, at the end of all things, is the life the two of you led together, and what you and loved ones remembered the most of it.

[girlygguk]

DREAM OF YOU | JJK (Prologue)

summary bunnies had always been your favorite; their soft and gentle nature a comfort in a world that could be anything but. this one, however, is not very soft. and he certainly isn’t gentle.

pairing bunny hybrid!jk x human vet!(f)reader

word count 3k

chapter rating sfw

genre hybridverse, s2l, angsty (future fluff & smut)

content jk 24 | yn 25, grumpy bunny hybrid jk, spirited human veterinarian oc, jk doesn't trust humans, his love interest is a human..., brief mentions of fighting, blood & body wounds, cursing, hybrid bangtan, park jimin is an angel cat

updated a/n this was supposed to just be a draft dump, but upon unexpected love for the fic from a few of u absolute sweetheartss, i shall be turning this into a series! haven’t decided onna release date for pt 2 atm, but it’s next on my list for updates!! love you and thank youu x <3

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now playing: camila cabello—dream of you

09 MAY 2022 | 10:31 PM Seo-Dong Animal & Hybrid 24/7 Veterinary Clinic.

You’d gotten used to these quiet hours, where time seemed to stretch and your thoughts kept you company more than the occasional late-night emergency. Stocking supplies and counting inventory had become a routine—one of the many tasks that kept your mind and hands busy in the lull between patients.

That is until the silence was shattered by the sound of the clinic door slamming open, the loud thud of it hitting the wall echoing through the empty space. Startled, you stood up from your crouched position, your eyes immediately darting to the entrance.

The sight that greeted you was a sharp contrast to the quiet evening you’d been having. A blonde boy, his eyes sharp and his features very feline, was half-dragging, half-supporting a taller male into the clinic. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the scene—especially the sight of the second male, whose long, fluffy ears drooped low in a clear sign of distress.

Your hand automatically reached out to close the cabinet you had been rummaging through, and without another thought, you were moving toward the pair, mind racing to assess the situation as you walked. The bunny hybrid—as you determined based on his undeniable features—was clearly in pain. His eyes were shut tight, his jaw clenched, muscles taut with tension. Bunnies had always been your favorite; their soft and gentle nature a comfort in a world that could be anything but. Seeing one in such a state of discomfort made your chest tighten.

“Hi there, I’m Y/N. What’s wrong? How can I help?” you asked, your voice gentle despite the urgency you felt.

The cat hybrid—also self-determined by you—was quick to respond, his voice laced with worry as he glanced at his friend. “Hello, Y/N! I’m Jimin, and this is my friend Jungkook. He’s injured, and if you could please—”

You were already nodding, taking another step closer to Jungkook to try and assess his wound. But before you could get too close, Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, and he took a sharp, defensive step backward, pulling Jimin with him. His dark eyes narrowed as they met yours.

“No,” he grunted, his voice rough with pain and something else—distrust. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the all too familiar scent. Human. You could almost see the thoughts running through his mind. “She’s not a hybrid. Let’s go, Jimin-ah.”

The words hit you slightly harder than you expected, and your extended hand abruptly dropped to your side. It wasn’t the first time you’d faced prejudice in your line of work, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Humans didn’t have the best reputation among hybrids, and for good reason. The history between your species was filled with pain, fear, and oppression. Even now, with the world having come a long way in terms of hybrid rights, there were still deep scars left by past injustices.

You understood his reaction, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t sting. You were just trying to help.

As much as you wanted to let him walk out and take his assumptions with him, you couldn’t ignore the clear signs of pain and discomfort in the way he held himself.

“Okay,” you said, forcing your voice to remain even. “Did you need directions to the nearest open hybrid clinic? It’s about an hour's drive eastbound. Or, my koala hybrid colleague will be starting the overnight shift at 12. You can come back then?”

The words were polite, but there was a frustrated edge to them, one you couldn’t control. You weren’t some inexperienced intern, and you certainly weren’t going to let this bunny hybrid dismiss you so easily.

Jungkook caught the undertone, and his expression darkened further. He gave you a tight nod, clearly not appreciating your condescending offer, and turned to leave, unhooking his arm from Jimin’s supportive grip.

“Jungkookie, please!” Jimin pleaded, his voice rising in desperation. He grabbed the back of Jungkook’s torn t-shirt, pulling him back with more force than you expected from someone with such a lithe frame. Jungkook grunted in pain, the sound low and rough, as the movement aggravated whatever injury he was carrying.

“I’m sorry, Kookie, but you will die if we wait!” Jimin’s words were dramatic, but the concern in his eyes was very real. “Just please, please let her tend to you. I’m sure she’s more than qualified! Why else would she be working here, right?” The cat turned to you, his eyes wide and pleading. “Right?”

You allowed a small, wry smile to tug at the corner of your lips. “Sure,” you said, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Though, I’m not actually a qualified veterinarian - I just sanitize the equipment and clean out the overnight chambers. But our night vet called in sick, so… I guess I could try?”

Jimin’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, his head shaking nervously as he took a step back. “Oh… I-uh, never mind! Uh—I think we’ll actually go to—”

“Aish, Jimin-ah. She’s joking,” Jungkook muttered, his voice laced with irritation at his gullible best friend.

The bunny’s dark eyes flicked to the name badge on your white lab coat that covered your forest green scrubs. Small doodles in thin black marker decorated the corners of the badge—hearts, flowers, and funnily enough, a tiny little bunny rabbit. Below your name, in bold letters, was your title: Senior Animal and Hybrid Veterinary Specialist.

“Oh!” Jimin gasped, relief washing over his features as some of the color drained from his cheeks. “Well, that’s great then! May you please help my friend? He’s a bunny hybrid, 24 years old, and he has a really big bite wound on his lower abdomen! It’s not bleeding badly, but it’s HUGE. It was from this big, ugly Pitbull hybrid! He’s terrifying and from the South side—well, we are too—but he deals drugs and all sorts of illegal things, so who knows what was in his mouth before he bit Jungkook?! But don’t worry, Y/N-ssi, Jungkookie doesn’t back down! You should’ve seen what that no-good mutt came out looking like—”

“Jimin-ah,” Jungkook sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance at his best friend’s tendency to ramble and over share.

“Right, sorry, Jungkookie…” Jimin said quickly, his ears flattening slightly in embarrassment before he turned back to you. “Anyways, it happened about ten minu—”

You nodded along as Jimin continued his detailed description while you walked to the counter with the hybrids following suit, one much more begrudgingly than the other.

Your pen flew over the clipboard as you jotted down everything you needed to know. All the while, you could feel Jungkook’s gaze burning into the side of your face. 

It wasn’t the kind of look you were used to from other hybrids—the possessive, predatory stares that made your skin crawl. This was different. His eyes were sharp, assessing, like he was trying to figure out if he could trust you. 

Two minutes passed as you filled out the necessary sections on the new patient slip, the cat being the one to provide all the details, everything right down to the weight of the bunny. They’re obviously very close, possibly lovers, and you thought it was adorable. A classic grumpy x sunshine trope right in front of your eyes.

You were almost finished when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungkook’s knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the counter, his balance faltering. His stance had shifted from defensive to exhausted, his body finally starting to give in to the pain and the adrenaline that had been keeping him upright.

“Catch him, Jimin,” you ordered, your voice firm and directed at the cat hybrid, but your eyes were on the bunny.

“Oh, shit!” Jimin cursed, his eyes widening in panic as he darted forward to catch his friend. Jungkook’s knees buckled, his eyes rolling back as his body went limp. He was almost twice the size of Jimin, and the smaller hybrid struggled under the sudden weight.

You were around the counter in seconds, slipping under Jungkook’s other arm to help hold him up. “Help me bring him into the medical suite, please,” you asked, but your tone left little room for argument. Together, you and Jimin managed to half-carry, half-drag the unconscious bunny hybrid into the next room.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“Y/N-ssi,” Jimin’s voice was curious as he twirled in your spinny chair, watching as you worked on his best friend who lay unconscious on the cushioned med table.

“Hmm?” you responded quietly, focused on pulling another thread through Jungkook’s stitch.

It had been almost forty minutes since you guys had heaved the bunny onto the table, allowing you to finally get a good look at the wound. Jimin had been right — it wasn’t profusely bleeding. However, the edges of the bite were now a dark purplish color, and it took quite a few minutes and resources to rid him of whatever remnants of toxic substance the attacker had laced on his teeth.

The cat hybrid was more than eager to help, and while you insisted it was okay, he all but got on his knees and bowed before you, begging to assist. You ended up giving in, knowing that helping might calm his overwhelming nerves for his companion. You made him glove and gown up before letting him hold the bucket while you flushed out Jungkook’s wound.

It took approximately ten seconds and a bit of discolored pus draining into the container before Jimin dry heaved and looked like he was about to faint. Not wanting to double your current patient count, you bit back a laugh and made the cat put the bucket on the ground and sit down while you finished.

“Are you really a senior veterinarian?”

“I am,” you confirmed, snipping the end of your final stitch with scissors before reaching for the sanitized gauze. “Have I done something to make you question my position?”

“No!” Jimin exclaimed, pulling to an abrupt halt in his spinning on your chair. “You’re fantastic! Really! I don’t exactly know the standards for hybrid medical aid…” You smiled as the cat trailed off, wiping over Jungkook’s now neatly sealed wound. “But I bet you exceed them!”

“You’re very kind, Jimin-ssi.” You gave him a quick glance over your shoulder, and he returned your smile. “Then why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just…” Jimin trailed off again, a habit of his that you found slightly comical considering his tendency to ramble and over-explain things. Shifting on your stool next to the sleeping bunny hybrid, you gave him your full attention. When the cat looked up and saw your head tilted in curiosity, he continued. “You just look very, uh, young? I’m sorry if that’s offensive. I know you’re not supposed to ask a woman her age—”

“That’s okay, Jimin-ssi. I don’t mind. I’m twenty-five.”

Your response seemed to put him at ease. “Wow, that’s still young to be a senior vet, no?”

“Mm,” you nodded in agreement as you began tidying up the area. “After completing my bachelor’s degree, I started here as a Veterinary Assistant. I was promoted to technician shortly after that, and specialist even quicker... Guess they saw some potential in me, or maybe we were just severely understaffed,” you joked, disposing of the used supplies and taking everything that needed to be cleaned to the sanitization station.

He gave you a Cheshire grin. “Ah, so modest, Y/N-ssi… From what I’ve seen, you deserve all of that and more! And I would know best. I’m older than you, after all.”

You gave the cat an amused hum, dumping the utensils into the sink for washup later. “‘95?”

“Wha—” You didn’t have to look at him to sense the way he perked up in his seat. “How did you know?!”

“The tattoo on your finger,” you replied with a light chuckle as you walked to the storage cupboard.

Jimin’s gaze dropped to the small ‘95’ tattoo encased in a heart on the side of his right ring finger. “Oh,” he mumbled sheepishly. The fact that you had managed to notice such a slight detail about him, though, made the cat inside him purr.

“What size shirt is Jungkook?”

Jimin looked up from his hand to see you now digging around in a large container of what looked to be folded clothing. His brows pinched curiously. “Medium.”

You nodded, your hand already hovering over a black tee in medium, having guessed correctly. When you pulled the shirt from the pile, your foot nudged the container back into the cupboard before you made your way over to Jimin. He gave you a confused look as you walked right past his best friend, who lay shirtless on the table, and held the shirt out to him.

“Um—”

“It may make him a bit more comfortable to be wearing something with a familiar scent when he wakes up.” You explained, wiggling the fabric in your hand, urging him to take it. Jimin let out a noise of realization and took it from you with a nod.

“The anesthesia should be wearing off shortly. His stats are good, so it won’t be long now,” you said with a reassuring smile as you took the t-shirt back from Jimin after he had thoroughly scented the fabric.

Jimin watched silently, a small smile on his face, as you carefully pulled the shirt onto the unconscious hybrid. A frown crossed your features when you noticed his skin was cold to the touch. Concerned, you checked his heart rate on the monitor next to the bed and were relieved to find the stats still within a healthy range. After recording the data, you headed to the medical supply cupboard and gathered everything you needed in a large ziplock bag. You handed it to Jimin, along with a manual on aftercare for stitched wounds.

“I’m just going to finish up the last of the paperwork for the night before my colleague arrives to take over,” you told him. Jimin nodded with a smile, and you returned it, making sure to lower the air conditioning as you left the room.

About 20 minutes later, Jungkook woke up and walked out of the medical bay with Jimin. He was moving better now, but you could tell he was still groggy. The sound of their approaching footsteps caught your attention, and you looked up from your desk.

Jimin’s face was split into a wide grin. “What do we owe you for your magic, Y/N-ssi?”

You smiled as you handed him the invoice, then turned to Jungkook. “Do you have Hybrid Healthcare?” you asked gently.

Jungkook didn’t respond verbally, just shook his head and reached for his wallet in his back pocket, shuffling through some cash.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay all at once. If you’re good for it, we offer payment plans—”

“Are you assuming I can’t pay it all at once?” Jungkook interjected with a glare.

His sharp tone caught you off guard, and your expression shifted from soft to slightly offended. You suppressed the urge to snap back, keeping your voice steady. “No, I offer that to every patient who doesn’t have healthcare—”

Jimin looked up from the file in his hand, his confusion cutting off your explanation. “Y/N-ssi, is this the completed bill?”

You frowned. “Yes, is there something wrong?”

“Well, I saw you use two syringes, not one. And you were stitching for over 30 minutes, not fifteen like recorded. I don’t understand…”

Your heart sank. If Jungkook hadn’t thought you were pitying him before, he definitely did now.

Jungkook snatched the paper from Jimin, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the document.

“Well, I just—” you began, but Jungkook cut you off.

“You didn’t even charge me for the anesthesia,” he scoffed, practically slamming the paper on the counter before reaching for a wad of cash. “I’m not a fucking charity case, but thanks, though.” He pulled out double the amount listed on the bill and slapped it on top of the paperwork.

You were quiet as he did so, your face expressionless as you looked down at the money. Jimin gave you a guilty look, but Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you. “Is that enough? How much was it originally?”

You blinked at him, then nodded wordlessly, taking the bills and turning to the register. Your fingers tapped at the screen before the till popped open and you shoved the cash into the register, closing it a little harder than necessary. When the receipt printed, you ripped it off and handed it to Jungkook without a word.

Jungkook took the receipt in silence, his jaw clenched as he watched you.

“Y/N-ssi—” Jimin started, guilt evident in his tone.

“I gave Jimin your aftercare bag,” you said, your voice robotic as you addressed Jungkook. “Sanitize the injured area twice a day—once in the morning, once at night. Avoid swimming in pools with chlorine and stay away from salt water too. Stitches need to be removed in two weeks; you can book an appointment with my colleague, Namjoonie. He’ll be here in five minutes.”

With that, you nodded politely at the two men before turning on your heel and heading toward the staff office. The door closed behind you with a sharp click, leaving the hybrids in a heavy silence.

Jimin let out a sigh. “Aish, Jungkookie—”

“Shut up.”

[hayatheauthor]

Assassination Methods Through the Decades: A Writer’s Handbook

When it comes to writing about assassination, historical accuracy and understanding the evolution of methods can significantly enhance the authenticity and impact of your narrative. This guide is designed to help writers explore the diverse and often brutal methods of assassination that have been used throughout the centuries. From the poisonings of ancient times to the covert killings of medieval assassins, here’s a comprehensive guide bound to give you the perfect inspiration for your assassination scenes. 

Ancient and Medieval Assassination Methods

Poisoning

Poisoning is one of the oldest methods of assassination, dating back to ancient civilizations such as Greece, Rome, and Egypt. The allure of poison lies in its ability to kill without physical confrontation, often leaving little trace of the perpetrator.

Common Poisons:

Hemlock: Famously used in the execution of Socrates, hemlock was a slow-acting poison that caused paralysis, leading to death by respiratory failure.

Arsenic: Known as the "inheritance powder," arsenic was a favorite among those seeking to kill discreetly. Its symptoms could be mistaken for natural illness, making it a popular choice in political and familial power struggles.

Belladonna: Also known as deadly nightshade, belladonna was used in both small and large doses to incapacitate or kill. The poison caused hallucinations, dilated pupils, and eventually death.

Historical Examples:

Socrates (399 BC): The Greek philosopher was sentenced to death by drinking a concoction containing hemlock, a method chosen for its relative humanity compared to other executions.

Emperor Claudius (54 AD): It is widely believed that the Roman Emperor Claudius was poisoned by his wife, Agrippina, using a dish of poisoned mushrooms to secure her son Nero's place on the throne.

Administration Methods:

Poisons were often mixed into food or drink, applied to the skin via ointments, or even introduced into the body through small, concealed needles. Assassins needed to be knowledgeable in the art of dosage to ensure a successful kill without immediate detection.

Symptoms:

Victims of poisoning would often suffer a range of symptoms depending on the poison used. These could include severe abdominal pain, vomiting, diarrhea, convulsions, and eventually, death. The slow progression of symptoms allowed the assassin time to escape, and in many cases, the cause of death was not immediately apparent, lending an air of mystery to the assassination.

Bladed Weapons

Before the advent of firearms, blades were the primary tools of assassins. Daggers, swords, and other sharp instruments were favored for their portability and effectiveness in close combat situations.

Types of Blades:

Daggers: Small, easily concealed, and lethal at close range, daggers were the weapon of choice for many assassins. The Roman pugio and the medieval stiletto were particularly popular.

Swords: Larger and more visible, swords were often used in assassinations where the element of surprise was not necessary, such as in the heat of battle or a public execution.

Kris: A wavy-edged dagger used in Southeast Asia, the kris was known for its spiritual significance as well as its lethality.

Famous Assassinations:

Julius Caesar (44 BC): Perhaps the most famous assassination in history, Caesar was stabbed 23 times by a group of Roman senators led by Brutus and Cassius. The attack was swift and brutal, demonstrating the effectiveness of a well-coordinated knife attack.

King Duncan (11th century): The assassination of King Duncan by Macbeth (as famously dramatized by Shakespeare) is an example of a stealthy, intimate kill using a blade, where the act was both personal and symbolic.

Techniques:

Assassins using bladed weapons often relied on stealth, speed, and precision. A well-placed stab to the heart, throat, or kidneys could kill instantly or within moments, leaving the assassin time to escape. In some cultures, assassins were trained in martial arts that emphasized quick, lethal strikes.

Weapon Concealment:

Blades were often concealed in clothing, boots, or even within the folds of long hair or turbans. The art of hiding a weapon until the crucial moment was key to the success of many assassinations.

Strangulation and Garroting

Strangulation was another favored method of assassination in ancient and medieval times, especially for those who sought to avoid bloodshed or noise. The garrote, a weapon used to strangle a victim, was particularly effective in this regard.

Tools Used:

Garrote: A length of wire, cord, or fabric used to strangle a victim from behind. The garrote was silent, deadly, and could be easily concealed, making it a popular choice for assassins throughout history.

Hands: In cases where no weapon was available, assassins might rely on their own hands to strangle a victim. This method required physical strength and proximity but could be effective in the right circumstances.

Historical Examples:

Sicarii (1st century AD): A group of Jewish zealots who used short daggers to stab Roman collaborators in crowded places. The Sicarii were also known for strangling their enemies with garrotes.

Medieval Europe: Strangulation was sometimes used as a method of execution for nobles, where a public beheading or hanging might be considered dishonorable.

Execution:

The assassin would typically approach the victim from behind, loop the garrote around their neck, and tighten it quickly and forcefully, cutting off the victim's air supply. Death would occur within minutes due to asphyxiation or a broken neck.

Advantages and Risks:

The main advantage of strangulation was its silence. Unlike a stabbing or poisoning, strangulation could be done without alerting others nearby. However, it required physical strength and a certain level of risk, as the victim might struggle or fight back.

Renaissance and Early Modern Era

Firearms

The Renaissance and early modern era marked a significant turning point in the history of assassination methods with the introduction of firearms. Gunpowder, first developed in China, made its way to Europe and fundamentally changed the dynamics of warfare and personal combat, including assassination.

Introduction of Gunpowder and Early Firearms in Assassinations:

The development of gunpowder-based weapons provided assassins with a new tool that could kill from a distance, reducing the risk of capture. Early firearms such as matchlock and flintlock pistols were bulky and required significant skill to use effectively, but their lethality made them a preferred choice for assassins by the 16th century.

Firearms allowed for quick, deadly strikes that were difficult to defend against, making them ideal for assassinations where the element of surprise was crucial. The loud noise and smoke, however, meant that escape required careful planning.

How Accuracy and Concealability Impacted Methods:

Early firearms were not known for their accuracy, which necessitated close-range attacks. Assassins often had to be within a few feet of their target to ensure a successful hit. As a result, these weapons were usually concealed under cloaks or in specially designed holsters that allowed for a quick draw.

Over time, improvements in gun design, such as rifling and better gunpowder, increased accuracy and allowed for slightly longer-range assassinations. Despite these advancements, concealability remained a critical factor, as firearms were often large and unwieldy compared to daggers or poison.

Key Assassinations Involving Firearms:

Assassination of King Henry IV of France (1610): King Henry IV was assassinated by François Ravaillac, a Catholic fanatic who stabbed the king while his carriage was stopped in traffic. While this was a stabbing, the period saw a rise in the use of firearms for such purposes. Henry IV's era was marked by religious turmoil, where firearms began to play a role in political assassinations.

Assassination of William the Silent (1584): William I of Orange, also known as William the Silent, was assassinated by Balthasar Gérard using a handgun. This marked one of the first successful assassinations of a prominent figure using a firearm, demonstrating the growing popularity of this method during the Renaissance.

Poison Rings and Needles

The Renaissance period also saw the refinement of more discreet methods of assassination, particularly the use of poison rings and needles. These tools allowed for covert poisoning, often in social settings where other weapons might not be feasible.

Discreet Poisoning Techniques:

Poison Rings: These rings contained a small hidden compartment that could hold a lethal dose of poison. The wearer could discreetly slip poison into a drink or onto food with a simple flick of the ring’s lid. Poison rings were popular among nobility and were often used in court intrigues where open violence would have been impossible.

Poison Needles: These were small, sharp needles often coated with a fast-acting poison. They could be hidden in clothing or other objects and used to deliver a quick, often unnoticed prick that would introduce the poison into the victim’s bloodstream. Needles were ideal for use in crowded settings, such as royal courts or banquets, where the assassin could blend into the crowd after delivering the fatal dose.

Notable Instances of Usage:

Lucrezia Borgia (1480-1519): While the extent of her involvement in poisoning is debated, Lucrezia Borgia, a member of the infamous Borgia family, is often associated with the use of poison rings to eliminate her political enemies. The Borgia family’s reputation for cunning and ruthlessness made poison one of their favored tools for securing power.

Catherine de' Medici (1519-1589): The French queen consort and mother to several kings of France, Catherine de' Medici, was rumored to have employed poison rings and needles to remove rivals and control court politics during the Wars of Religion in France.

Explosives

The early use of explosives in assassination attempts represented a shift towards more destructive and indiscriminate methods of killing, often targeting not just the primary victim but also anyone nearby. Explosives became a favored tool in situations where a dramatic statement was intended, or where traditional methods of assassination were not feasible.

The Early Use of Explosives in Assassination Attempts:

Explosives were first used in assassination attempts during the Renaissance and early modern periods, although their use was limited by the difficulty of creating and handling reliable explosive devices. Gunpowder was the primary explosive material, and it required careful handling to avoid premature detonation.

The use of explosives was often tied to larger political or religious motivations, as the collateral damage caused by an explosion could have a significant psychological impact on the population or ruling class.

The Effectiveness and Risks Involved:

Explosives were highly effective in causing mass casualties and instilling fear, but they also carried significant risks for the assassin. Improper handling could result in accidental detonation, and the use of explosives often made it difficult for the assassin to escape unnoticed.

The unpredictability of early explosives also meant that they could fail to detonate or cause less damage than intended, leaving the assassin vulnerable to capture and execution.

Historical Example:

The Gunpowder Plot (1605): One of the most famous early uses of explosives in an assassination attempt was the Gunpowder Plot, in which a group of Catholic conspirators, including Guy Fawkes, attempted to blow up the House of Lords during the State Opening of Parliament, with the aim of killing King James I and much of the Protestant aristocracy. The plot was foiled, but it demonstrated the potential of explosives as a tool for political assassination.

The Industrial Revolution and Early 20th Century

Sniper Rifles

The Industrial Revolution brought about significant advancements in weaponry, including the development of sniper rifles. These long-range firearms allowed assassins to strike from a distance, often without being seen or heard.

The Rise of Long-Range Assassinations:

Sniper rifles were designed for accuracy over long distances, enabling assassins to kill targets from hundreds of meters away. This development allowed for greater safety and discretion, as the assassin could remain hidden while observing the target through a scope.

The advent of rifling, which gave bullets a stable, spinning motion, greatly improved accuracy and range. Coupled with telescopic sights, these rifles became the preferred tool for military and political assassinations during the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Famous Cases:

Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand (1914): Although Archduke Franz Ferdinand was ultimately killed by a handgun, the era in which he was assassinated saw the rise of snipers as a significant threat. The tensions and technologies of the time set the stage for future political assassinations using sniper rifles.

Assassination of President John F. Kennedy (1963): Although beyond the early 20th century, the assassination of JFK by a sniper is a prominent example of how sniper rifles became synonymous with political killings. This event marked a turning point in the history of assassination, highlighting the lethal effectiveness of long-range firearms.

Car Bombs

The introduction and evolution of vehicular explosives, particularly car bombs, added a new dimension to assassination tactics in the 20th century. Car bombs became a favored method due to their potential for mass destruction and the ability to target individuals in transit.

Introduction and Evolution of Vehicular Explosives:

The use of car bombs began in earnest during the early 20th century, particularly in conflicts where traditional methods of assassination were either too risky or ineffective. These bombs could be planted in vehicles and detonated remotely, offering a high degree of control over the timing and impact of the explosion.

Over time, car bombs became more sophisticated, with the addition of remote triggers, time delays, and increased explosive power. They were used not only in targeted assassinations but also in acts of terrorism aimed at destabilizing governments or instilling fear in the populace.

Techniques for Planting and Detonating:

Planting a car bomb required detailed planning, as the vehicle needed to be accessed and rigged with explosives without arousing suspicion. Detonation methods varied from simple timed fuses to complex remote-controlled devices, allowing the assassin to maintain distance from the blast.

The challenge for assassins was ensuring the target was inside or near the vehicle at the moment of detonation. This often involved careful observation of the target’s routines and the use of decoys or distractions to ensure the bomb’s effectiveness.

Chemical and Biological Agents

The 20th century saw the development and use of more advanced chemical and biological agents in assassinations. These methods, often invisible and insidious, allowed for killings that were difficult to trace and could be disguised as natural causes.

Use of More Advanced Poisons and Toxins:

With advancements in chemistry and biology, assassins gained access to a range of deadly substances that could kill quickly or slowly, depending on the agent used. Toxins like ricin, cyanide, and various nerve agents became tools of state-sponsored assassinations, particularly during the Cold War.

Chemical agents could be introduced through food, drink, or even via contact with the skin or inhalation, making them versatile and deadly. Biological agents, on the other hand, could cause diseases that mimicked natural illnesses, allowing assassins to kill without immediate suspicion.

Historical Examples:

Ricin: Ricin, a highly potent toxin derived from castor beans, was famously used in the assassination of Bulgarian dissident Georgi Markov in 1978. Markov was attacked with a modified umbrella that injected a tiny pellet containing ricin into his leg, leading to his death a few days later.

Cyanide: Cyanide has been used in various assassinations due to its rapid action and high lethality. One of the most notorious uses of cyanide was in the mass suicide-murder in Jonestown in 1978, where members of the Peoples Temple ingested cyanide-laced punch, although this was not an assassination in the traditional sense, it demonstrated the deadly effectiveness of the poison.

These innovations in assassination methods during the Industrial Revolution and early 20th century reflected the growing complexity of warfare and espionage, as well as the increasing role of technology in shaping the tactics of assassins.

Modern and Contemporary Assassination Methods

Silenced Firearms

In the modern era, the evolution of silenced firearms, or firearms equipped with suppressors, has played a significant role in covert assassinations. The suppressor, commonly known as a silencer, reduces the noise and muzzle flash of a firearm, allowing assassins to operate with a higher degree of stealth.

The Evolution of Suppressors and Their Use in Covert Assassinations:

Suppressors were first developed in the early 20th century and have since become a staple in the arsenal of assassins. Initially, suppressors were bulky and limited to specific firearms, but advancements in technology have made them more compact, effective, and adaptable to a wide range of weapons.

Silenced firearms are ideal for close-quarters assassinations where discretion is paramount. The reduced noise levels prevent immediate detection, giving the assassin time to escape or even carry out multiple hits without alerting nearby individuals.

High-Profile Cases:

Cold War Assassinations: During the Cold War, silenced firearms were frequently used by intelligence agencies on both sides of the Iron Curtain. The KGB, CIA, and MI6, among others, employed suppressors in various covert operations to eliminate targets without drawing attention.

Georgi Markov (1978): Although Markov’s assassination in London involved a poison-tipped umbrella, the use of suppressors was prevalent in the same period for similar covert operations. This era exemplified the silent, precise methods preferred by state-sponsored assassins.

Remote-Controlled Devices

The rise of remote-controlled devices, including drones and other modern technologies, has introduced a new dimension to assassination methods. These devices allow assassins to strike from a distance, often from thousands of miles away, with precision and minimal risk.

Drones and Other Modern Technologies in Assassination:

Drones, equipped with cameras and weapons, have revolutionized modern warfare and assassination. These unmanned aerial vehicles can be operated remotely, providing real-time surveillance and the ability to deliver lethal force with pinpoint accuracy. Drones are particularly effective in targeting individuals in difficult-to-reach or heavily guarded locations.

Other remote-controlled devices, such as bombs or cars rigged to detonate via remote, offer similar advantages. These methods allow the assassin to maintain a safe distance from the target, reducing the likelihood of capture or identification.

Notable Instances in Recent History:

Qasem Soleimani (2020): One of the most high-profile drone assassinations in recent history was the killing of Iranian General Qasem Soleimani by a U.S. drone strike in Baghdad. This event highlighted the capabilities of drone technology in executing precise, targeted killings with global political implications.

The Killing of Anwar al-Awlaki (2011): The American-born cleric and al-Qaeda leader was targeted and killed by a drone strike in Yemen, marking a significant moment in the use of remote-controlled devices in the War on Terror.

Cyber-Assassination

As technology continues to advance, the concept of cyber-assassination has emerged as a new frontier in covert operations. This method involves using cyber means to assassinate individuals, such as hacking into medical devices or other critical systems.

The Concept of Assassination Through Cyber Means:

Cyber-assassination leverages the vulnerabilities in modern technology, particularly medical devices like pacemakers or insulin pumps, which can be hacked to deliver a fatal outcome. This method represents a shift from physical to digital assassination, where the target can be killed without the assassin ever being in the same country, let alone the same room.

Cyber-attacks can also target critical infrastructure, leading to deaths through indirect means such as causing traffic accidents by hacking self-driving cars or disrupting life support systems in hospitals.

Ethical and Legal Implications:

The rise of cyber-assassination raises significant ethical and legal questions. Unlike traditional assassination methods, which can be physically traced, cyber-attacks are often difficult to attribute, making accountability a major issue. This anonymity can lead to increased use of such methods by state and non-state actors alike.

Legal frameworks have yet to fully catch up with the technological realities of cyber-assassination. As a result, there is a grey area regarding the legality of such actions, particularly in the context of international law and the rules of engagement in warfare.

Assassination Methods by Region

Europe

Throughout history, Europe has seen a variety of assassination methods, each influenced by the region’s diverse cultures, political climates, and technological advancements.

Specific Methods Popular in Different European Countries Across Various Eras:

In medieval Europe, poison was a favored method, particularly among the Italian nobility. The use of poisoned food, drink, and even clothing was common in the courts of Italy, where political intrigue and betrayal were rife.

During the French Revolution, the guillotine became the symbol of state-sanctioned assassination, used to eliminate political enemies swiftly and publicly. The Reign of Terror saw the use of this method to instill fear and maintain control.

In more recent history, Eastern Europe, under Soviet influence, saw the use of more covert methods, such as radioactive poisoning, exemplified by the assassination of Alexander Litvinenko in 2006 in London.

Asia

Asia's vast and diverse history has given rise to a wide range of assassination techniques, each influenced by the unique cultural, political, and historical contexts of its various regions.

South Asia (India, Pakistan, and Surrounding Areas):

In ancient and medieval India, assassination was often a tool used in dynastic struggles. One notable method was the use of Vishkanya—young women supposedly trained from childhood to tolerate and deliver poison. These women were allegedly used to assassinate powerful enemies by poisoning them through intimate contact.

During the Mughal Empire, political intrigue often involved the use of poisoning and covert killings to eliminate rivals. The struggle for succession in royal courts frequently led to the use of assassination as a means to secure power.

East Asia (China, Korea, Japan):

Ninja Tactics (Japan): In feudal Japan, ninjas were often employed as assassins due to their skills in stealth, espionage, and the use of a variety of weapons. Techniques such as silent killing with swords, blow darts, and the use of shuriken (throwing stars) were common. Ninjas were masters of disguise and could infiltrate enemy strongholds to eliminate targets without detection.

While ninja tactics are widely known, East Asia’s history of assassination is much broader. In ancient China, assassins were sometimes employed by rival states or within the imperial court to eliminate threats. Famous historical accounts like the attempted assassination of Qin Shi Huang, the first Emperor of China, highlight the role of assassins in shaping the region’s history.

Korea’s history also includes instances of political assassinations, particularly during the Joseon Dynasty, where court intrigue and power struggles often resulted in the discreet elimination of rivals.

East Asia (China, Korea, Japan):

Poison Darts: In regions like Borneo and the Philippines, blowguns with poison-tipped darts were used by indigenous tribes to silently kill enemies. These weapons were effective for their stealth and the ability to deliver deadly toxins without the need for close combat.

Central Asia:

In Central Asia, particularly during the time of the Silk Road, assassins were sometimes employed by powerful khans and warlords to secure trade routes and eliminate threats. Assassination was a strategic tool in maintaining control over vast and often unruly territories.

Middle East

The Middle East has a rich and complex history where assassination has played a role in political and dynastic power struggles, often tied to the region’s diverse empires and cultural traditions.

Historical Assassinations Involving Political Power Struggles:

The Middle East, home to some of the world’s oldest civilizations, has seen assassinations employed as a tool of political maneuvering for millennia. In ancient Mesopotamia, assassinations were sometimes used to secure thrones and eliminate rivals within royal families.

During the time of the Ottoman Empire, the practice of fratricide—where newly crowned sultans would eliminate their brothers to prevent future challenges to their rule—was a brutal form of state-sanctioned assassination.

The Byzantine Empire, centered in what is now modern-day Turkey, also witnessed political assassinations as a common method for securing power, with emperors and high-ranking officials often falling victim to their rivals.

The Americas

The Americas, particularly the United States and Latin America, have experienced a range of political assassinations, often with far-reaching consequences.

Political Assassinations in the U.S. and Latin America:

In the United States, the assassinations of presidents like Abraham Lincoln, John F. Kennedy, and civil rights leaders such as Martin Luther King Jr. have left indelible marks on the nation’s history. These high-profile killings were often carried out by lone gunmen or small conspiracies and had profound impacts on the country’s political landscape.

Latin America has seen numerous political assassinations, often linked to dictatorial regimes, revolutionary movements, and drug cartels. Figures like Che Guevara and Salvador Allende were assassinated or killed under controversial circumstances, reflecting the volatile political environments in many Latin American countries during the 20th century.

This overview of assassination methods by region highlights the diverse and evolving tactics used across different parts of the world, shaped by the cultural, political, and technological contexts of each region.

Common Misconceptions About Assassination

The Myth of the Clean Kill

In fiction, assassinations are often depicted as clean and precise, with the target silently slumping over after a single blow or shot. However, in reality, even well-planned assassinations can go awry. Bodies don’t always react predictably to trauma, and factors like adrenaline, the environment, and unexpected movements can complicate even the most meticulously planned kill. A supposedly lethal blow may not immediately incapacitate the target, leading to prolonged struggles, noise, and potential witnesses.

Silencers and Stealth

In movies and TV shows, silencers (or suppressors) are often shown completely muffling the sound of a gunshot, reducing it to a mere whisper. In reality, while suppressors do reduce the noise, they don’t make it silent. The sound of a suppressed gunshot can still be quite loud, akin to a clap or the popping of a balloon, and depending on the environment, it may still attract attention. Additionally, the sound of the bullet impact and mechanical noise from the firearm are not silenced, further dispelling the myth of a completely stealthy kill.

Poison Timing

Popular media often portrays poisons as acting instantaneously, with victims collapsing mere seconds after ingestion or injection. In truth, the effects of poisons vary widely depending on the substance, dose, and the victim’s physiology. Some poisons, like cyanide, can act within minutes, but others might take hours or even days to fully incapacitate or kill. Symptoms might develop gradually, and in some cases, the victim might not even realize they’ve been poisoned until it’s too late. This misconception can lead to unrealistic portrayals of poisoning in fiction.

Resources

Books

Recommended Reading for Research on Assassination Techniques:

"Assassination Generation" by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman – This book explores the psychology of killing and its portrayal in the media, providing insight into both real-life and fictional assassinations.

"Hitmen: The True Stories of Assassins, Contract Killers, and Political Hired Guns" by Nigel Cawthorne – A collection of real-life accounts detailing the methods and motives of professional assassins throughout history.

"The Art of Political Murder: Who Killed the Bishop?" by Francisco Goldman – A detailed investigation into the assassination of Bishop Juan Gerardi in Guatemala, offering a deep dive into the intersection of politics and murder.

Documentaries

Visual Resources That Depict Historical Assassinations:

"Killing Oswald" – A documentary that explores the conspiracy theories surrounding the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, delving into the methods and motives behind one of the most famous assassinations in history.

"The Men Who Killed Kennedy" – A controversial documentary series that investigates various theories about the assassination of JFK, offering insights into different assassination methods and their implications.

"Assassins: The Story of Medieval Hitmen" – This documentary provides an in-depth look at the history of assassins in the medieval period, focusing on their training, methods, and the political impact of their actions.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Quillology with Haya Sameer; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! While you’re at it, don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 25/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Guys, this part is so big 😁 I write this about every next chapter but it turns out that each next one is bigger than the previous one. 🤭🫣 But I had to fit it all into one part. Let me know what you think of the scenes between the main character and Jungkook and what you think of Doohoon's plan, will it work? And how is always a love all of you and many thanks for reading my creation 💗❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥💘💘🥹

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi, @someoneelse0109, @medstudentlifestyle, @mskookie, @kooccult , @smokinghotstargirl (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 24. The plan to destroy and the heart of the Queen. 

Tuesday. 14.50 PM.

The smell of cigarette smoke filled his nostrils unpleasantly. Doohoon grimaced because he hated cigarettes and the smell of smoke. But he couldn't say anything because his friend sitting across from him had been smoking all his life. 

Doohoon took a sip of the expensive whiskey, which tasted good on his tongue, and looked around the room in silence. 

It was a VIP room in an institution in Gyeongnidan. It belonged to the leader of the Black Pearl clan, and the man across from him was Oh Sehun, one of the closest to the leader, Kim Junmyeon. It was a clan that was consisisted half of the Chinese triad. The Black Pearl had its own power among the Chinese mafia and they were the main rivals of the Namjoon clan. 

The room was furnished with a combination of Korean and Chinese decorative elements that emphasized the belonging of this establishment to the Korean-Chinese clan.

The dark wood walls decorated with gold-framed paintings absorbed most of the light, leaving the room with an atmosphere of mysterious tension. In the corner, the soft lights of a crystal chandelier flickered, and the low coffee table between Doohoon and Sehun was made of dark glass, on which stood an unfinished glass of whiskey. The air was saturated with the scent of expensive tobacco, leather, and alcohol.

Sehun, dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, sat relaxed with his leg over his shoulder. He slowly took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out to the side, looking at Doohoon intently. His face, though seemingly calm, expressed skepticism. 

Doohoon set his glass down on the table, waiting for Sehun to respond to his request that he had made a moment ago. 

"Why did you want from with that Jungkook?" - He asks, ignoring Sehun's previous words. 

"He's been under my feet for a long time. And he has this stupid habit of taking everything that belongs to me. Besides, I'm proposing a deal, and Junmyeon will benefit from it." - Doohoon replies, trying to persuade his friend. 

"You think if we frame Jungkook, as if he going behind Namjoon's back, it will somehow weaken Namjoon?" - Sehun asks, taking another puff of cigarette smoke. 

"Exactly. Look, Jungkook is bothering you just as much as he's bothering me. You know how much Namjoon cares about the people around him. You know exactly what an asshole Jungkook is when you've met him in person. Have you forgotten how disrespectful he was to you? Even though you're four years older than him." - Doohoon reminded. "If Jungkook falls out of favor with Namjoon, you and your leader can easily weaken his power and take away some of their market."

Sehun took a glass of whiskey and took a sip without looking away from Dohun. Doohoon saw a spark of interest in his eyes. He knew he could talk him into it. Sehun smiled at the corner of his lips.

"That's a bold offer, my friend." - He said at last. "But you do realize that if it doesn't work, it will be a disaster for both you and me?"

"That's why I came to you and not to anyone else." - Doohoon replied, leaning forward.  "I know you can do it perfectly." 

Sehun thought about it, smiling at Doohoon’s praise. He weighed his options. Finally, he leaned over to the table, put out his cigarette, rested his elbows on his knees, and answered. 

"Okay, I'll help." - He said. "But remember, if things go wrong, it's nothing personal, I won't defend you." 

Doohoon hummed. Of course he had seen this coming. But he was confident that Sehun would do a great job. He'd been dealing with him for a long time. 

"No problem." - Doohoon agrees. He also leans closer to the table. "I'm sure it'll work out and we'll all win."

"So what's your plan?" - Sehun asks. 

"As I said before, we need to set up the arms purchase in Jungkook’s name. Make it look like he's been working with the Japanese mafia behind Namjoon's back and playing a double game. You have access to resources and people who can create a document that looks real." - Doohoon explained. "Besides, you have no problem getting this information into the right hands. We know how Namjoon reacts to betrayal, or even the hint of it." 

Sehun leans back on the couch, thinking about Doohoon’s plan. Yes, he'll have no problem doing what Doohoon suggests. But something could go wrong. The Namjoon clan has been watching the Black Pearl closely. They had a lot of different situations, because of the rights to the market where both clans wanted to have their own power. Everyone knows that Namjung is the main problem for Junmyeon.

Doohoon’s offer is very tempting, and the Jungkook in question is also a pain in the ass. The kid was annoying with his behavior and the influence he had gained in just three years. 

"So I have to do this because of the Japanese mafia?" - Sehun clarifies. 

"Yes. Actually, I'm thinking of a person who used to belong to the Namjoon clan. Do you know anyone? It would be very plausible if the person Jungkook was dealing with behind Namjoon's back was a member of their clan." - Doohoon said, looking at the man across from him. 

"I know." - He replies, after a moment of thought. He recalls a man who left the Namjoon clan almost immediately after Jungkook appeared. "Seems his name was Gyuwon."

"Who is he?" - Doohoon asks, wanting to know if this man is a good fit for the plan he's come up with. Sehun smiles, touching his chin with his fingers as if he's remembering something he's forgotten.

"Gyuwon was one of Namjoon's arms suppliers. At one time, he had quite a lot of influence in the clan, but he lost his credibility because he failed in one important mission. Namjoon threw him out, and Gyuwon decided to seek refuge with the Japan. Now he works for them and hates his former clan. I think he will be happy to play a role in our play, especially if we motivate him properly." - Sehun replies. Doohoon leans forward, listening intently. His eyes flash with excitement.

"That's great. Gyuwon will be a key element in our plan. He can confirm that he made the deal with Jungkook. But can we trust him? Won't he blow the deal because of his own ambitions?" - Doohoon asked. Sehun laughed, raising an eyebrow. 

"Don't worry. Gyuwon is not someone who would turn down money or the opportunity to harm Namjoon. If you offer him a good deal, he'll take it. But you have to be careful. Even among the Japanese, he does not have a perfect reputation. His own team may not support him if they find out about our plan. They don't want to get into trouble with Namjoon, that's for sure." - Doohoon paused to consider the new information.

"Then we'll set it up so that Hyuwon looks as convincing as possible. We'll fake the transfer of documents, sign fake contracts, and bring in witnesses. Jungkook won't even realize he's being set up until it's too late." - Doohoon says. Sehun smiles, leaning back. His eyes turn sly. 

"If we do it right, Namjoon will think this is proof of treason. He doesn't seem to be able to stand even a shadow of a doubt. And when it comes to Jungkook..." - Sehun says, but Doohoon raises his hand and stops him. 

"...it will be the end for him. He'll lose his leader's trust, and who knows, maybe Namjoon won't be so lenient this time like it was with Gyuwon." - Doohoon says. Sehun crosses his arms over his chest, satisfied with the plan. It should work. 

"Then I need some time to contact Gyuwon and organize everything. I think we'll be ready in a week." - Sehun says. Doohoon stands up, shaking Sehun's hand. 

"Do it. And don't worry - if anything goes wrong, I have backups."

Sehun looks at Doohoon carefully and then nods. His heart is wavering between interest in this intrigue and fear that the whole situation could get out of hand. But now he has no reason to refuse.

"It's a deal, my friend. I'll get back to you very soon." - Sehun says. Doohoon is pleased that he was able to persuade his friend. So the plan to destroy Jungkook is launched. 

It was a Friday night. You were at home waiting for Jungkook to pick you up to go to your parents' house. You were sitting on the couch and feeling sick to say the least.

You had your period too early and you couldn't understand why. You looked at your calendar and wondered. There were still two whole weeks before your critical days, but you had red discharge, which seemed as your period. In addition, your breasts were swollen and sensitive. Just like your period.

You were irritable and your mood could change several times a day. Jungkook patiently supported you and tried to respond to your emotions in the right way. 

He has been living with you since you reconciled. He offered you to come back, but you refused. The thing is, you had signed a six-month lease and couldn't leave the apartment. Jungkook offered to pay the landlord for the damages, but you blocked his offer again.

You also promised the manager of the convenience store that you would work until the start of the school year. Traveling from the area where Jungkook's apartment was would be inconvenient and long, because your place of work was one street away from your place of residence. Jungkook had no choice but to come to you and spend time with you at your apartment. 

From the day you reconciled, your sex life became intense. You had sex every day. Some days it was several times. Jungkook was careful and only once did he lose his temper and came inside you. It happened yesterday when he came late at night and woke you up. You were on birth control, so you didn't worry about it too much. The sex was great and your memories easily filled your mind.

You were about to fall asleep when you heard the front door knock softly. Lately, you've been feeling tired all the time. You didn't know why, maybe because of the change in the weather, which was always overcast, or because of the workload you had from preparing for your thesis and working night shifts. You worked all week and took almost all the night shifts so that you could have a free weekend to go to your parents' house with Jungkook. 

You heard Jungkook come into the room, but you didn't have the energy to greet him. You pretended to be asleep. You turned to your right side and listened to the sound of water coming from the bathroom. 

After a while, Jungkook came into the room. You felt the mattress bend under the weight of his body. Jungkook moved close to you. He put his arms around your waist, pressing his body tightly against yours. You could smell the shower gel you bought especially for him. This pleasant scent filled your nostrils. 

You heard him leaning over to check if you were still asleep. Jungkook pulled back your hair so he could access your neck. You felt his soft, hot lips. His kisses made you stir. You turned your head slightly toward him, opening your eyes. 

"What time is it?" - You ask. Jungkook kisses you on the jaw, moving his hands along your hips. He slides his hand under your panties, touching your folds. He pulls them apart to find your clit. You spread your legs to give him better access. You can't stop him from doing what he's doing. 

"Zero o'clock." - He whispers into your neck. He kisses your neck, while pushing his index finger into your passage. You become wet and moan softly. 

"Why are you so late?" - You ask quietly, but your breathing is becoming labored from his actions. You turn your whole body and Jungkook takes you captive. His naked torso is pressed against you, and his hand is still fucking your passage. You wrap your arms around his neck and he smiles slyly. 

"I think you were sleeping." - He says with the same smile on his lips. He ignores your question, but for some reason you don't notice. Maybe his closeness makes you do it. You smile back at him, too. 

"As if that possible with you?" - You sneer, feeling the pleasure of his finger fucking you. Jungkook leans down and connects your lips in a kiss. His tongue penetrates your mouth as usual, and it turns you on.

You return, by moving your lips and tongue, deepening the kiss. Jungkook continues to kiss you and pulls off his pajama shorts and underwear. He throws them somewhere off the bed. You gasp against his lips. Jungkook pulls away to hear what you have to say. 

"You want to have sex right now?" - You wondered. Jungkook laughed softly. He pulled away from you, laying down next to you, taking off his boxers. You see his ferocity and can't help but feel yourself getting even wetter. Even though you have sex with Jungkook every day, you still can't get enough of it.

That's why you don't mind having it again. Jungkook was at work all day. When you woke up, he was gone. You talked on the phone and texted, but you still missed him. So when he climbs at you you, settling between your legs, you feel a strong desire mixed with an uncontrollable expectation of his length inside you. 

"Did you think I was just touching you? My love, I missed you and my favorite pussy." - He replies, leaning down to your face. You smile at him in a relaxed way. You rise up to meet him, not letting him sink low.

He stops when he sees you standing up. You take off your pajama top and throw it on the floor. Now you are both completely naked. You hug Jungkook and kiss him with fervent passion. When you need air, you break the kiss. 

"I missed you too. How could you leave me for so long?" - You ask, mimicking your sadness. Jungkook lays you down on the bed, snuggling up on top of you. You throw your legs over his waist, crossing them. You feel his hard cock touching into your pussy. Jungkook kisses you on the lips again, your tongues intertwined. Your body temperature rises and the moisture between your legs becomes more abundant. 

Jungkook leaves your lips and goes down to your neck, leaving wet marks on it. He bites your skin, and then runs his tongue over the spot where he bit you. He is still hungry for you.

Your skin, your smell, your warmth, your sounds, your welcoming pussy, it all makes him think about you constantly all the time. He leaves you for a moment and already misses you. His behavior is like being possessed.

This was not the case before your breakup. Mean, yes, he wanted you all the time and thought about you, but now this need is acute for him. Only when he realizes that you're around does he calm down. And then he feel an unbearable desire to fuck you.

To own every inch of your body. That's why you've been having sex every day since the day you made up. Jungkook is crazy about you and the thought of being without you for so long. 

Jungkook goes down to your breasts and sees your erect nipples. He squeezes your breast with his fingers. Carefully, he takes one of them into his mouth and caresses it with his wet tongue. Your nipples have become sensitive lately, and he tries to be gentle, even though he wants to bite you. You moan somewhere on top of him. 

Having finished the foreplay he loves to do with you, he wants to get inside you as soon as possible. He kneels down and takes his cock in his hands. He rolls it, then presses the head against your clit and moves it around. You sigh, enjoying the sensations. Your clitoris is swollen with excitement and you can feel how wet it is.

Jungkook moves the head of his cock over your clit, smearing your moisture and his own pre-cum that drips from the tip. You don't expect it when he hits your pussy several times with his cock and you just feel ecstatic.

When he caresses your center again, you feel his tip twitch. He drives for so long that you have an increasing orgasm. Perhaps anticipating this, Jungkook lowers himself to your spread legs and licks your clit. He is attracted to your hole, which is dripping with your moisture.

He wants to put his cock inside you as soon as possible, but first he has to satisfy you. He puts his tongue in your passage and fucks you. His fingers don't give your cunt a rest while he's busy with your entrance.

You taste so sweet on his tongue. He's delighted with your taste. But he comes back when he hears you moaning intensely. Those sounds are a pleasant melody to his ears. If he had his way, he would listen to that melody all the time. When Jungkook sucks on your clit again, you come right on his tongue. 

You make what sounds like a squeak and a moan at the same time. But you were actually trying to say Jungkook's name. You have a perfect orgasm and can't come to your senses for a long time. Only when you feel Jungkook close to your face. 

"My baby happy?" - He asks you. Jungkook whispers right into your lips. You come into yourself open your eyes. Your lips stretch into the most satisfied smile you've ever known. 

"I’m not that happy, I'm thrilled!" - You say. Jungkook is glad to hear you say that. All the best for his love. 

"Great, then I'll just move on to fucking that juicy cunt." - He says. Without waiting for any response from you, he kisses you with such heat that you literally feel dizzy. Your breasts rise and fall heavily. Jungkook puts his erect cock against your entrance, where his tongue was a moment ago, and goes slowly so as not to cause you discomfort.

His big and thick cock stretches your walls and you envelop it tightly. Jungkook moans at the feel of your tight pussy. You've been having sex for a long time, but every time he enters you it's like the first time. So tight. So nice and euphoric.

You're driving him crazy. Your body is driving him crazy. Your love and your presence is driving him crazy. Now he feels like he has won this life because you are in it. 

Jungkook goes inside you to the very end. He presses so close that he can feel your clitoris with his pubic bone. Jungkook moves his legs so that he can lie on top of you. Your spread legs are on either side of his hips. Jungkook lies down, pressing his body against yours. He takes your hands and his, intertwining your fingers and lifting them above your head. 

You look at him without looking away. A light, playful smile plays on his lips. You are serious on the contrary, because of the feeling of how he feels inside you. Jungkook makes thrusts with his hips and you finally feel that much-needed friction. You automatically close your eyes, but suddenly you hear Jungkook's voice. 

"Open your eyes, baby." - He says. And you do. This has happened before. Jungkook has asked you to open your eyes once before during sex and keep eye contact. He doesn't usually ask this, but today he did it for the second time. You don't know why he wants to see your eyes open. 

Jungkook starts fucking you, thrusting deeply into your entrance. You look into his eyes and it makes the sex between you somehow different and more intimate than it already is. You moan at his thrusts.

He goes slowly at first, but over time his movements become different, faster, deeply. You can hear the sound of your bodies hitting each other and your moans filling the room. Jungkook kisses you without stopping fucking you. When he pulls away from your lips, he asks you not to close your eyes again.

"Look at me, my love, when I fuck you. I want to see your eyes." - You can't answer him, because his movements will only allow you to moan as you feel your orgasm building. Jungkook still fuck you speeding his movements but also slows down for a moment. His thrusts become slow but as deep as possible.

You clasp your intertwined palms, digging your nails into his skin. The sensations from these thrusts and from tonight's sex in general are special. 

Jungkook slows down and fucks you like this because he wants to stay inside you as long as possible. He gets high on the feel of your velvet, dense walls like a fucking junkie. You're his drug that gives him an eternal high.

"Kook..." - You call out to him. Jungkook looks at you but doesn't answer. "I want to... please..." - You start to beg him, almost rolling your eyes. You can't stop yourself from thrusting. You want him to speed up and finally bring you to orgasm. 

"My love need to come?" - Jungkook guessed without speeding up his movements. All he does is slowly fuck you with deep thrusts. His voice was breathless. 

"Yes..." - You breathe out. "Let me come." 

"Is that what you want, baby?" - He whispers. He bites your lips, pulling at your skin, his thrusts never stopping. His tongue explores the pads of your lips. 

"Yes!" - Your voice is not your own. Jungkook is listening to you, and he can already feel himself hardening. He accelerated his movements, his hips began to beat you uncontrollably. Just a little more and you will experience the orgasm you've been waiting for. 

"Just lose control, don't hold back, love." - Jungkook tells you. His words intensify all your feelings to the maximum and you don't hold back for long and finally come around his cock.

Jungkook continues to fuck your vagina, moaning as your walls squeeze him. He wants to come out, but he has almost no strength to do so. So he cums inside you. He still keeps moving while his cock jerks inside you and spurts his cum. 

Jungkook falls with his head somewhere on your shoulder. You feel his breath on your skin and breathe uncontrollably too. You relax when you manage to get your breath back. You stroke Jungkook's back when he lets go of your hands.

He's sweating a little, but it doesn't matter to you. Jungkook lifts his head and you can see his smile, which is visible thanks to the light from the street that enters the room. He nibbles on your lips, putting tenderness and affection into this soft kiss. 

"I wish you could always greet me like this after work." - He jokes. You laugh silently.

"I don't mind, but not when I'm already asleep." - You say. 

"Have you been sleeping?" - Jungkook asks, brushing his hair away from your face. 

"Of course." - You answer. Jungkook tilts his head slightly to the side, looking at you with a look of sly interest.

"Then you should definitely sleep more often." - He says, his voice a half-tone lower, filled with playful warmth. You just roll your eyes, but a slight smile appears on your lips.

"If you're going to wake me up like this every time, I'm going to have to give your schedule some serious thought." - You retort, feigning severity, but the laughter in your voice gives you away. Jungkook laughs quietly and sinks down next to you, pulling you closer.

"Honestly, I was waiting that you to start fighting with me for coming home too late." - He whispers, running his fingers down your arm.

"I’m did it almost." - You reply, looking directly into his dark eyes. "But... if you’re be like this after work, I will be lenient with your late arrivals from work" - You say. He smiles, leaning closer to you, his forehead touching yours.

"Oh, there are so many things I could do for you." - He whispers. 

"Don't make me feel intrigued." - You grumble, snuggling up closer. 

"You know I never promise anything I can't keep." - Jungkook says. You lie in the embrace in silence for a while. It feels good and so natural. "How are you feeling? Are you feeling better?" - Jungkook ask, worrying about your unwellness during the week. He slightly moving his head away from you to look at your face. You look up at him and press your lips together. 

"To be honest, no. I stayed in bed all day. I couldn't even write. I sketched out a few theses for the project, but then I gave it up. Maybe I was sick?" - You suppose. 

"Do you want to go to the doctor tomorrow?" - Jungkook suggests. You silently put your head back on his chest. 

"No. We're going to our parents' house tomorrow. I think I'll feel better. It's probably just a case of being tired." - You deny his offer. Jungkook kisses the back of your head and you resting in silence. You stand up, and Jungkook watches you sleepily.

"I'm going to take a shower." - You say, getting out of bed. Jungkook nods at you. He turns on his side and peers at you. You put on shorts and a pajama top. You feel his eyes on you even from behind. You smile at the corners of your lips, although you don't turn around, because you know that Jungkook just can't help but watch you. "Don't fall asleep until I get back." - You joke, throwing a quick glance over your shoulder. Jungkook just mutters something incomprehensible in response, but his smile is visible even in the semi-darkness of the room.

When you step into the bathtub and feel the warm water on your skin, you allow yourself to completely relax for a few minutes. The water seems to wash away all the burden of the day and systematic fatigue.

You step out of the shower, drying yourself with a soft towel, and quietly return to your room. Jungkook is half asleep, but when he hears your footsteps, he opens one eye.

"What, you're not even going to kiss me before I go to sleep?" - He says in a sleepy voice, lifting his head from the pillow. You smile, leaning toward him.

"Good night, my love." - You say softly, touching his forehead with your lips. He grabs your hand, holding it close, and pulls you down, forcing you to lie down next to him again.

"Are you going to run away?" - He grumbles, but his voice is filled with warmth.

"No, I was just going to sleep." - You answer, laying down next to him. Jungkook wraps his arms around you, closing his eyes.

"I can only sleep when you are in my arms and you know it. I saw that you wanted to go to bed separately." - He whispers. 

"Stop grumbling and go to sleep." - You protest. Jungkook grumbles something indecipherable into your neck and after a few minutes his breathing becomes steady and calm.

You lie there for a long time, listening to this familiar rhythm, and with every passing minute you feel your heart fill with the warmth that only he can give.

You hear the sound of the combination lock and Jungkook enters the apartment. He finds you on the couch. You smile at him and get up, trying to hide your bad feeling. You pull him into a hug and press your lips to his. Jungkook returns the kiss and you feel his shoulders relax under your hands. 

"How are you?" - He asks you immediately. You tilt your head. 

"Better now and ready to go." - You answer. Jungkook squints his eyes, as if trying to tell if you're lying or telling the truth. 

"Are you sure? Maybe we should go to the doctor. I don't like that you've been sick for so long." - Jungkook is worried. You give him a quick kiss to calm him down. 

"No, everything fine. I guess I felt like this because I got my period two weeks early. It's all because of them. That's why my breasts became so sensitive and enlarged." - You explain. Jungkook believes you and hugs you. 

"Is it normal that they started so early?" - He asks, squeezing you in his arms. 

"It happens sometimes when the cycle is adjusting." - You answer. You hear Jungkook exhaling heavily, somewhere above your head. You pull away from him and look at his face in concern. "What's wrong? Why are you exhaling so hard?" - You ask. Jungkook doesn't say anything, staring at your eyes, and then smiles. He kisses you on the forehead and lets you go. 

"It's okay, baby. I'm just tired, too." - He replies. But you feel that he doesn't tell all the truth. 

"You're not hiding anything again, are you?" - You ask, looking at his broad back as he reaches down to pick up the bag with your things. When he hears your question, he freezes, just for a second, but it doesn't escape your attention. You tense up slightly. Jungkook picks up the bag and turns to you. 

"No. I'm not hiding anything." - He answers confidently. You look into his eyes for a long time to make him speak. But Jungkook doesn't seem to be going to talk anymore. 

"Does it connected with your work?" - You ask. Jungkook raises one eyebrow. He moves toward you and stops when you're a few centimeters away. 

"What exactly is connected?" - He asks. You restrain yourself from getting too annoyed. You cross your arms over your chest. Jungkook knows exactly what you're asking. He looks at you, and you realize that he's trying to keep himself in check without giving away too much emotion. His gaze is calm, but you can feel the tension between you growing.

"You know what I mean, Jungkook." - You say firmly, tilting your head slightly. "I'm asking if your job is causing you problems again."

He frowns a little, as if he's considering whether to tell the truth. Then he raises his hand, gently touching your cheek.

"Baby, I don't want you to worry about my job. I told you everything is fine. It's nothing serious." - He says, and his voice is warm, but at the same time full of some hidden pain.

"That doesn't answer my question." - You say without looking away. Jungkook exhales heavily, rubbing the back of his head, and takes a step back, as if trying to find the right words.

"You know, I can't tell you about something. Please don't put pressure on me…" - He says after a pause. "I've got a lot of work to do, and I'm just thinking about how to do it right." 

"Not “something”, you don't tell me anything." - You throw out, not hiding your displeasure. He looks at you carefully, and then, as if deciding that it's not worth pushing any further, he relaxes his shoulders a little.

"Baby, please, let's not fight. I don't want to find out anything right now. If you want, we can talk about it when we're at my parents' house. I promise I'll share everything you want with you..." - Jungkook promises you, but you interrupt him in mid-sentence. 

"Or only that you can tell me. You'll never tell the truth anyway." - You grumble. Your heart clenches. You're well aware that his job always puts him in more danger than he's willing to tell you. Jungkook smiles at you irritably, obviously holding back with the last of his strength. 

"No. If you're so prying and curious, I'll tell you everything you want to know. But after we get to my parents' house." - Jungkook gives his word. You drill him with your eyes and feel that he is sincere. But you can't help but think that he's still hiding something from you. And even though it worries you, you decide not to push anymore. 

"Okay." - You agree, walking around him. You go to the front door to get dressed. "We need to stop by the supermarket, mom asked me to buy some groceries." 

Jungkook walks up to you and gets dressed after you. He senses that you are irritated. He doesn't want your meeting with parents to be tense because of this tiff’s. Jungkook looks at you and sees that you are not looking in his direction. You are definitely angry with him. He has to defuse the situation somehow. 

As you put on your sneakers and reach for the zipper to fasten your jacket, you suddenly feel Jungkook's arms around your waist. He is pressing you against the front door with his body. You look at him in surprise, feeling his warmth. 

"What are you doing?" - You ask indignantly, trying to get away, but he holds you tight.

"As long as you're angry, we're not going anywhere." - He says, leaning down to your face. His eyes are filled with determination, and you can feel the tension in the air. 

"I'm not angry, let go..." - You start, but you don't have time to finish because he crashes his lips into yours, silencing you. His kiss is hot and demanding, as if he's trying to get all the resentment out of you. You try to pull away, but he doesn't back down, holding your neck with one hand and your waist with the other so you can't do it.

"Jungkook, that's enough!" - You protest, pulling your head away when you finally manages to break your lips. Your breath comes in ragged gasps and your cheeks burn.

"No, that's not enough. I won't let you go until you stop sulking." - He replies firmly, lifting your face slightly by the chin. His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "You know I hate it when you ignore me or pull away." 

"I'm not ignoring you, I'm just..." - You try to say something, but he interrupts you. 

"If you don't stop being angry now, I'll find a way to calm you down. Do you want me to do that? In bed? Or... right here?" - He casts a quick glance at the front door, and his voice takes on a playful tone.

"Jungkook!" - You look at him with indignation and shock, trying to keep a stern face, but your heart is pounding so loudly that you think he can hear it. He smiles, realizing that you are having a hard time resisting. Then he leans down to your ear and adds. 

"I'm not joking, baby. Make up your mind." - He whispers. You sigh heavily, trying to pull yourself together.

"Okay, I'm not mad anymore. But you could have been a little less dramatic." - You grumble, looking away. Jungkook is pleased with your reaction, but he's in no hurry to let you go. 

"Are you sure you're not angry? Or I should calm you at all?" - He asks. You see his hand touch the button on your mom jeans. He undoes in it and is ready to reach into your pants, but you grab his hand tightly and stop him from doing so.

"No!" - You shout. "I'm on my period." - You explain. Jungkook raises his eyebrows as if he doesn't fully understand what you're saying. He leans down to your lips, looks between you, and then kisses you.

He puts his strength into it, and you try not to let him touch you. He is stronger than you. His demanding kiss on your lips and his unrestrained tongue in your mouth makes it impossible to concentrate on holding him back. 

When Jungkook does reach your clit with his finger, you don't model any more resistance. You respond to his hot kiss and become wet. Jungkook breaks the kiss and smiles defiantly on your lips. You bite your lip to hold back the moans that threaten to come out in a loud sound. Jungkook pinches your clit and you squeal. 

"What a cheeky girl. How dare you not let me touch you?" - Jungkook asks with authority. You open your eyes and see his dark gaze staring back at you. Your eyebrows are drawn together as you try to withstand the sweet torture of Jungkook's fingers. 

"Because it's my body, and I decide when you can touch it and when you can't." - You answer with a challenge in your voice. He has forgotten how provocative you can be. Jungkook's gaze darkens even more. He increases the friction on your clit, and it even hurts a little, but at the same time you think that you'll come much faster than usual. 

"You belong to me. Your whole body belongs to me, so you don't decide when I can touch you and when I can't." - Jungkook almost growls. Your words have caught him alive. You moan loudly as he plunges his fingers into your passage. You're hot and you want nothing more than to orgasm. Your quarrelsome sex is always so hot. 

Jungkook suddenly sticks his hand out of your passage and pulls off his jacket. He takes off your jacket as well, and turns you around. He pulls down your pants and leans you toward the door. You rest your hands on the cold metal of the door and wait for Jungkook's cock.

You hear how he undresses in about half a minute. He him pulling off his pants. The sound of his belt and fly being undone indicates that he's about to fuck you right at the front door. 

As his hard cock slams into your ass, your wetness stands out more. You're breathing heavily. Jungkook immediately pushes his cock against your passage without wasting time stretching. He goes in abruptly and you scream in pain. You hear him moaning from behind and the sound excites you.

He starts moving intensely and roughly. Obviously, he is not soothing you as he promised earlier, but punishing you for daring to tell him that your body belongs to you and not to him. Of course, you belong to him completely, but it's always so much fun to irritate him and provoke him. 

Suddenly you feel a hand on your throat. Jungkook is steadying you and pressing lightly on your throat. His other hand is on your clit and you gasp because he has captured all the points through which you can feel stimulation. He doesn't stop moving his hips, and you're going crazy from all these feelings, all at once. 

"Mine. You are all mine." - He tells you with authority somewhere in front of your cheek. "And I can fuck you wherever I want, whenever I want, for as long as I want." - He declares. And you don't mind at all. You don't mind his rights to you, because you are really all his, and he can do whatever he wants with you. "Do you understand me?" - He asks, carefully pressing his hand on your throat. You roll your eyes and exhale something incomprehensible. "Say it clearly." - He orders you. You take a breath. 

"Yes, I am completely yours Kook..." - You say, trying to sound firm. Jungkook is pleased with your words. He smiles and you can feel it. He turns your head and captures your lips. The kiss is deep, hot, and dominant. Jungkook lets go of you, returning your body to its previous position and begins to move quickly inside you.

He rubs against your walls trying to bring you to the peak of pleasure. You scream from the overstimulation and don't care that the neighbors can hear you. You're right by the front door, they'll hear you for sure, but neither you nor Jungkook are afraid. 

You moan long and hard as your pussy squeezes Jungkook's cock. He comes right after you. It's no surprise that he comes inside you. But you're not worried, you're on your period, there's no way you're going to get pregnant. 

Jungkook leans you against the door and you touch your hot cheek to the cold door. He stands behind you with his hands on your hips and breathes into your hair. His breath burns your skin. You need time to come to your senses.

Jungkook comes out of you and you feel his cum dripping down your inner thighs. He turns you around and you look at his face, which expresses absolute satisfaction. He touches your chin with his fingers and smiles out of the corner of his mouth. 

"I hope you remember that now, baby. So you don't ever say no to me again. Come on, take a quick shower, we're late for our parents." - He says and kiss your swollen lips from hard kisses. This kiss is gentle to calm your hot. "You're not angry anymore, are you?" - He suddenly asks. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile. 

"I'm not angry. I tell you it before. But it's so much fun to provoke you." - You confess. Jungkook laughs gutturally. 

"You should be more careful, because the next time you provoke me, you'll be in trouble." - He jokes. 

"I can't wait for that." - You say. Jungkook moves away from you. He helps you get dressed and gently pushes you forward. 

"Hurry up, we're wasting time!" - He complains softly. 

"You should take a shower too." - You say, stopping halfway. "Besides, it's your fault, not mine." - You add finally and disappear behind the bathroom door. 

When Jungkook and you arrived at Jungkook's house, his mother opened the door, smiling as she greeted you two at the door. Her face lit up with joy when she saw Jungkook and she hugged him gently. She was just as happy to see you. You also received your share of friendly hugs. She wasted no time in inviting you inside.

"Y/N girl, how beautiful you have become! I haven't seen you for so long. Suri tells me all about you all the time. She told me you moved to a new neighborhood? I told her that you could live with Jungkook and that you don't have to spend money on rent. Jungkook has his own apartment, and you've been friends since childhood, so you'd definitely get along." - Jungkook's mom says. You smile sweetly. She doesn't even realize that you already done that. And it was hard for you to get along with them at first. You throw a quick glance at Jungkook, who is trying to hide his laughter. 

Yonok leads you and Jungkook to the kitchen where you meet Jungkook's dad. He also gives you a warm fatherly hug and tells you how glad he is that you finally made it. Jungkook's mom motions to set the table, but Jungkook stops her. 

"Mom, wait, don't set the table." - Yonok stops, completely puzzled by her son's request. 

"Why? I've been waiting for you. I've been preparing so much..." - She says, disappointed. Jungkook's father is equally surprised. He supports his wife. 

"Yes, son. Your mom spent the day making you dinner!" - He says seriously. Jungkook tries to quickly rectify the situation. 

"We just stopped by for a little while. Now we're going to go to omony and aboji Yeon and pick them up. I made a reservation at the Yongdong restaurant. We'll have dinner there together, because we haven't seen each other for a long time." - Jungkook said. His parents were pleasantly surprised by their son's announcement. Jungkook's mom looked a little surprised at first, but soon her face was full of joy. She put her hands in her waistband, looking at Jungkook with a smile.

"But you didn't say you had plans like that!" - She said, laughing. "We could have just stayed home..." 

"That's my New Year's present." - Jungkook replied. "So let's just have some tea and we'll go get Y/N's parents." 

You spent time at Jungkook's house talking to his parents. Jungkook talked to his father, and you mostly talked to Jungkook's mother. She asked you about everything and you remembered for a moment how your mother had behaved the same way with Jungkook when he came to reconcile after Christmas. 

"I can't get enough of you, my girl." - Jungkook's mom says as she touches your hair with her hands, fixing it. Jungkook hears what his mom is saying and looks at you. He thinks he can't help but admire you as much as his mom does, maybe even more. He sees your cheeks blush and laughs mesmerizingly. "You must have a lot of fans at the university." - Yonok suggests. 

"Thanks omony. But no. I don't really have many." - You say, shyly. Jungkook rubs his nose with his finger to hide his gaze, which he ready to devour you. He's turned on by your shyness. Fuck, one day he'll be able to look at you without thinking about fucking you every free minute. 

"I'll never believe that." - She denies. Jungkook's mom turns to her son and asks him for his opinion. "Jungkook-ah, hasn't Y/N become a beautiful woman that many guys should chase after. She's so gorgeous." - You look at Jungkook and your eyes lock. You see something sly in his eyes and think he's thinking about some dirty things. You know that look as well as anyone, but his parents don't notice. You raise your eyebrows as if scolding him in your mind. Jungkook smiles cheerfully and answers. 

"Mom, she doesn't have any fans, because she has a boyfriend." - Jungkook's parents immediately turn their gaze to you and you are caught off guard. You stare in horror at Jungkook, who gives you a devilish smile. 

"Is it really sweetheart? You have a boyfriend, right? Who is he?" - Jungkook's mom asks you. You open your mouth to lie, but Jungkook stands up, realizing that you don't seem to be able to do it alone. 

"Mom, mom!" - He calls. "Don't push Y/N. She'll tell you everything later. We have to go now, we have to go to the omony and aboji Yeon. Get ready you two, at 6:30 pm, we'll pick you up." - He says, moving away from the couch in the living room and calls you with him.

You smile guiltily and apologize to Jungkook's parents that you really have to go. Jungkook's mom reassures you and apologizes for her tactless behavior. 

"Please don't be offended, Y/N." - She says, hiding her embarrassment. "It's just... I haven't seen you in so long, I wanted to know more." 

You glance over at Jungkook and see that his smile is still sly. His big, sly eyes are fixed on you again. You can tell from his movements that he's wondering how you're going to react to all of this. However, you smile back resolutely and glance at your watch.

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's okay, we really have to go. I'll be sure to tell you everything at dinner tonight. Thank you for welcoming us so warmly!" - You say, trying to lighten the mood. Jungkook's mom calms down and says that she and Dad will be waiting for you. 

When you get into the car and Jungkook climbs into the driver's seat, you literally want to strangle him. 

"What was that? I almost died in there!" - You complain. Jungkook laughs merrily. 

"Yeah? I’m curious, what were you going to tell them?" - He asks, starting the car and driving off.

"I'd tell them my boyfriend is a mafia guy and I'm the future mafia queen." - You answered ironically. Jungkook's smile became less cheerful, but didn't disappear from his face. You tensed up, wondering if you had gone too far. 

"Mafia queen. I fucking love the sound of that." - Jungkook says seriously, staring at the road. You burst out laughing. He gives you a quick glance. "I'm serious. My mafia queen..." - Jungkook says, as if savoring the words on his tongue. You shove him lightly. 

"God, stop saying that. What a queen?" - You laugh. Jungkook doesn't stop even when you laugh. He understands that you're trying to lighten the mood, but his serious look speaks for itself.

"Why are you laughing?" - He asks, his voice sounding serious, but still with that same invisible smile in his eyes. "We're talking about the future. You shouldn't be ashamed to be a queen."

You glance at him, watching his expression, and feel his words tickle your nerves. His seriousness begins to convince you that he seems to be completely serious. What does this mean? You can never be a part of the mafia world, even if you're connected to Jungkook. You're too much of a good person to have any chance be half of the underworld. 

"Jungkook, you... you can't be serious right now!" - You say, even though you know he's getting serious for some reason. You can't help but feel a little trepidation in your voice. Jungkook looks at you sideways, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the armrest.

"Why? I'm completely serious. You have no idea what an honor it is for me to have such a queen." - He says, and his voice sounds like he has absolutely no doubt in his words.

You turn your head toward the window, trying to hide the emotions that are rising in your soul. A little embarrassed, but still with warmth in your heart. Jungkook seems to find another way to make you blush, even when he's being the most serious. Even though you were just joking. 

"But why the queen?" - You ask, trying to turn this conversation into another joke. 

"Because you deserve to be on top. You're always so strong and stubborn." - He sounds like he's already thought about it. You are stunned. You don't know what to say, so you laugh again, trying to change the subject.

"Well, if I'm going to be the queen of the mafia, will you be my loyal subject?" - You ask jokingly, returning his smile. Jungkook looks at you again, and his smile becomes even more mysterious.

"I'm not standing just a subject. I will be your right-hand man, ready to fulfill your every wish." - He says this in such a tone that it's hard to understand whether he's just joking or something more. You laugh softly, feeling his words penetrate deeper than you want to admit. Your eyes lock for a few seconds, and you see that he's not just playing around.

The car is approaching your parents' house, and the atmosphere between you is filled with something new-not just jokes, but feelings you're trying to hide.

"We're here!" - Jungkook says as he parks the Mercedes. He smiles at you with an expression that alarms you. You glance at him, not quite sure what exactly is going on between you two. 

You pick up your parents and return to Jungkook's house where you pick up his parents'. Your parents are chatting and discussing the upcoming dinner at the restaurant. They are really happy that after all these years they can meet and talk together. 

When you arrive at the Yongdong restaurant, the impression of the luxurious interior and elegant atmosphere immediately impresses everyone. Yours mom and dad couldn't hide their surprise at the elegant setting.

"Why here?" - Asked your mom, a little concerned.

"It's too expensive, son, we could have had dinner at our house!" - Added your father. Jungkook smiled as if anticipating these questions.

"Oh, it's been so long since we've all been together, and I want this evening to be special for everyone." - He says, and you feel the excitement building inside you. You look at Jungkook and he looks completely calm. Is he really not nervous? 

The restaurant was really impressive: an elegant place that combines traditional Korean style with modern elements. The minimalist interior is made of natural materials - dark wood, light walls with elegant decorative elements reminiscent of Korean art.

A large stained-glass window on the wall allows natural light to enter the space, creating a cozy atmosphere. The tables in the restaurant are quite simple but elegantly decorated, and the lighting adds to the warm and relaxed atmosphere.

You placed your order and waited for your food. Not much time passes and the first dishes are brought to you. Sashimi, pibimbap, kalpuksu (soup with noodles and meat), yoichi (fermented fish). 

Your parents and you are enjoying your dinner, and you've even relaxed a bit, forgetting why you're here. However, you were jolted awake by a question from Jungkook's mom. 

"So, baby, tell me about your boyfriend. I'm so curious who he is. Suri, you should have told me earlier. I'm surprised you kept this information from me." - Yonok complains, but without any anger in her voice. Your mother raises her eyebrows in surprise. She didn't know her daughter had a boyfriend. 

"Do you have a boyfriend, daughter?" - Your mom asks and you smile nervously. Jungkook sees that this is the right time to tell everyone and draws attention. 

"I think it's time to tell you why we really brought you all here." - He says calmly. You look at him, as does everyone else at the table. Jungkook takes your hand and says. "Y/N and I are dating. I've loved her for a long time and only recently told her. We thought you all should know." - He looks at your parents. "Because I am very serious about your daughter." - You look at Jungkook and his relaxed posture at the table and feel a flutter in your chest.

You turn your gaze to your parents and they all sit there with round eyes, shocked by the confession, even though all four of them wanted you to be a couple. You wait for them to say something, but it's like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. 

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Protecting Her Hear | macklin celebrini

Macklin celebrini x reader

It was a crisp December evening in San Jose, and the SAP Center was buzzing with excitement as fans filled the stands for the Sharks’ home game against the Chicago Blackhawks. Among the sea of fans in the lower bowl, one face stood out. Y/N, wearing her favorite Macklin Celebrini jersey, was settled into her seat, a smile lighting up her face as she watched her boyfriend skate out onto the ice. The young NHL star was having an incredible season with the Sharks, and every game felt like a new chapter in their story.

Macklin had grown close to Y/N ever since their high school days, and even though his hockey career had launched him into the public eye, he always made time for her. She was his constant, the calm in his otherwise hectic life. They had spent so many nights at games, watching his teammates and feeling the rush of the crowd, but tonight was special. It was their first time attending a Sharks game as an official couple, and Y/N couldn’t have been more proud.

As the game progressed, Y/N found herself engrossed in the action, her eyes glued to Macklin, who had already made a couple of incredible plays. She was cheering and clapping along with the rest of the crowd, completely unaware of the man who had stumbled to her seat.

The man was probably in his late twenties, and from the faint smell of alcohol, Y/N could tell he had been drinking for a while. At first, he lingered in the aisle near her, watching the game without much attention to her. But then, he began leaning closer, and Y/N noticed him trying to strike up a conversation.

“Hey there, you enjoying the game?” he slurred, his voice far too loud for the crowded arena.

Y/N gave him a polite smile, not wanting to cause a scene. “Yeah, I’m here with my boyfriend. He’s playing tonight.”

“Oh? You’re with him?” The man seemed to squint as if it was hard for him to fully process the information. “Which one is he?”

“Macklin Celebrini,” Y/N replied, gesturing toward the ice where Macklin was skating along the blue line.

The man’s eyes flickered toward the ice, then back to Y/N. He leaned in closer, his breath heavy with the stench of alcohol. “You know, you’re way too pretty for a guy like him. You could be with someone better. What are you doing with a hockey player? They’re all the same.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, her discomfort starting to rise. She wasn’t sure what the man was getting at, but his presence was beginning to feel overwhelming. She shifted in her seat, trying to subtly create space between them. “I really don’t think that’s something I want to talk about,” she said firmly, hoping he would take the hint.

But the man, clearly not catching on, continued to stand too close, his words becoming more inappropriate. “You don’t have to be so uptight, sweetheart. It’s just a game. No need to be all serious.”

At that moment, Y/N felt her anxiety spike. She could feel her hands tense up, and her heart began to race. She didn’t want to make a scene, but she also didn’t want to just sit there and take it. She stood up, trying to move toward the aisle, but the man blocked her path.

Before she could say anything, she felt a presence behind her.

“Macklin, please!” The man said, raising a hand in a dismissive manner. “I’m just talking to your girl.”

But Macklin’s face was a picture of intense focus as he skated toward the bench for a quick line change. His eyes immediately locked onto Y/N and the man in front of her. He could see the discomfort in her expression. He had been scanning the crowd between shifts and had noticed the scene unfolding. In an instant, his protective instincts kicked in, and he pushed off from the bench, his skates slicing through the ice as he rushed toward the exit.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw Macklin’s figure approaching the stands. She felt a wave of relief wash over her, but she also didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. However, Macklin had already seen enough.

The moment he reached the barrier separating the stands from the ice, he hoisted himself up effortlessly, his hands gripping the railing. He made his way directly to Y/N, his gaze laser-focused on the man who was still standing too close to her.

“Hey,” Macklin’s voice was calm, but it held an unmistakable edge. “Back off. Now.”

The drunk man blinked, his brain taking a moment to process the situation. But when he saw Macklin’s face, his expression changed. He had clearly recognized the player, but the alcohol still clouded his judgment. “What? Are you gonna tell me what to do now? I’m just talking to your girl,” he sneered.

Y/N could feel the tension in the air, but she was grateful that Macklin was there. She took a step back, not wanting to escalate things further, but also not wanting to be in the middle of it. Macklin’s gaze softened as he turned toward her.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, his hand reaching out to hold hers. His eyes searched hers, full of concern. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone with him. I should’ve been more aware.”

Y/N nodded, a small, shaky smile on her face. “I’m fine, Mack. Thank you for coming over, though. I… I didn’t know what to do.”

Macklin squeezed her hand, the warmth of his touch grounding her. He turned back to the man, who was now visibly shrinking under Macklin’s glare.

“I don’t care what you’ve had to drink, but if you don’t leave my girlfriend alone, we’ll be having a much bigger problem,” Macklin said, his tone firm and unwavering.

The drunk man staggered back, his bravado faltering as the reality of the situation set in. Without another word, he turned and stumbled away toward the exit.

Macklin turned back to Y/N, and his expression softened. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Y/N nodded, her heart still racing but now filled with gratitude. “I’m okay. I’m just glad you were here.”

Macklin smiled, his hand still holding hers. “I’d never let anything happen to you, Y/N. You mean the world to me.”

They shared a tender moment, the chaos of the situation fading into the background as Macklin pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Let’s go back to our seats. The game’s not over yet, and I think we could use some popcorn,” he said with a wink.

As they made their way back to their seats, Y/N leaned her head on Macklin’s shoulder, feeling safe and cared for. The rest of the game continued, with Macklin playing as if nothing had happened, but Y/N knew better. She knew that her boyfriend would always protect her, no matter what.

And as the final buzzer sounded, signaling a Sharks victory, she felt a sense of warmth, not just from the win, but from the love and protection that Macklin had shown her. She was lucky to have him in her life, and she knew that no matter what challenges they faced, they would face them together.

[andorappreciation]

There have been times where the struggle seemed impossible... Together, unrested, daunted by the lack of news or trailer, we have waited…and waited…

But the day has finally come when all these edits and drawings, these metas and fics…will help the Andor fandom countdown to the Season 2 premiere!

Sunday, April 6th to Thursday, 17th (ahead of all the Star Wars Celebration excitement) @andorappreciation will be hosting 12 Days of Andor: a fandom-wide event celebrating our resilient, creative, talented community and the long-anticipated return of our favorite rebellious show.

Prompts

April 6th, Day One: Networks Either Change or Die Dive into the interconnectedness of this complex narrative. Find the ties that bind characters, factions, and plots. Parallels, theses, and themes… obvious or unhinged, make your case!  Alternate Prompts: Symbolism || Elements

April 7th, Day Two: Everyone Has Their Own Rebellion Themes, politics, messaging--there were many reasons for Andor’s success, but chief among them was what the show had to say, both about our world and the world of Star Wars. Examine Nemik’s Manifesto, or offer your own treatise on Luthen’s methodology, but whatever you do, don’t lose your nerve! Alternate Prompts: Underrated Quotes/Dialogue || Sacrifice

April 8th, Day Three: I Show You the Stone in My Hand, You'll Miss the Knife at Your Throat Mon Mothma was speaking for more than just herself here– dualities and split identities are a throughline in Andor. Whether it’s Vel Sartha playing as the spoiled rich girl or Lonnie Jung literally posing as a double agent within the ISB, explore the world of deception and the webs of lies that hold the Rebellion and the Empire together. Alternate Prompts: Underrated Scenes || Ambiguity

April 9th, Day Four: Kill Me, Or Take Me In The last words of the first season, uttered by the show’s protagonist. With this ominous bargain, we were all left to speculate wildly about the upcoming second and final season. Here’s your chance to share those theories and predictions, from the most sound hypothesis to the crackiest wish fulfillment!  Alternate Prompts: Penultimate Moments || Death

April 10th, Day Five: They Don't Even Think About Us But we bet you do right? Everyone has their own rebellion, yes, but everyone also has their very own Glup Shitto. Are you a Time Grappler Stan? A Blue Noodle boy? Show your love for your Andor Shittos!  Alternate Prompts: Underrated Side Characters || Nature

April 11th, Day Six: That's Just Love...Nothing You Can Do About That Just like with every good story, the relationships among the characters are what draw us in and keep us hooked. Whether it’s a fraught love story or a complex connection between mother and son, Andor is rife with intricate interpersonal relations and, ultimately, a hell of a lot of love. Share your feelings about the relationships you find most compelling!  Alternate Prompts: Doomed by the Narrative || Echoes

April 12th, Day Seven: We Are Healthcare Providers Are you fascinated by the crushing bureaucracy of the ISB? The ponderous gears of the Imperial war machine? Do you simply love Dedra Meero and think she's neat? Share your thoughts about the Empire and the unique way that Andor explores the banality of evil! Alternate Prompts: Character Arcs || Morality

April 13th, Day Eight: "Pilgrim" Are you the biggest Nicolas Britell fan ever? Have you memorized every interview with Denise Gough? Have you watched everything Diego Luna is in? Show your appreciation for the incredible cast and crew that make this show come to life!  Alternate Prompts: Favorite Quotes about the show || Behind the Scenes

April 14th, Day Nine: Pockets, Piping, Some Light… Tailoring From the rich costumes to the lavish sets, Andor gave us some truly sumptuous designs to sink our teeth into. Explore the details of costumes, sets or both!  Alternate Prompt: Hidden Details || Colors

April 15th, Day Ten: Peezos… The Greenie Green Ones Run up to Arkie’s and pick up some shit posts! Just make sure you don’t look like ‘you’re a part of it’. Alternate Prompts: Favorites (episodes, characters, etc) || Humor

April 16th, Day Eleven: You’re My Ideal Reader Have a fic that you just love? A gifset that you stare at until your eyes water? A manifesto with not enough circulation (in your opinion)? Spread the love and recommend your favorite metas, edits, fan art, podcasts, gif sets, fics, whatever you’d like!  Alternate Prompt: Alternate Universe || Time

April 17th, Day Twelve: ONE WAY OUT!  You’re free! Hopefully you can swim! AKA: Dealer's choice || Free Day

How It Works

We have included multiple prompts for each day to provide optimal opportunities for fan work creators of all kinds. Pick a prompt and create to your heart’s content! When the day arrives, post your work!

Feel free to tag us @andorappreciation! We will also be tracking #12DaysofAndor2025

Do’s & Don’t’s

DO

Have fun, be creative and follow us for all the glorious content!

Please reblog!

Pop some peezos. The greenie green ones!

DON’T

Repost work that is not yours or work without credit

Post work without proper tagging/warnings

Post offensive material including non-con or bigotry

Any questions, concerns, or clarifications can be submitted via ask.

Sincerely,

@andorappreciation

ALL CREDIT FOR THE INCREDIBLE CASSIAN BANNER AND B2 DIVIDERS GOES TO LOVELY MOD @ninsletamain

[galaxy-of-writing-prompts]

My favorite dialogue tips:

Let your characters ramble on about things when they're passionate or anxious

Let your characters get interrupted by their surroundings (children, animals, crowds, phone calls, etc)

Let your characters trail off and forget what they were saying

Let your dialogue get awkward sometimes between people

Let your characters repeat misinformation and be unreliable at times

Let your characters have distinct voices (using improper grammar or sentence structure). You don't NEED to always adhere to proper English rules when writing dialogue. The red underlines can just be suggestions. You don't need to feel obligated to adhere to them and end up with your characters sounding the same.

Let your characters be repetitive. Don't be afraid to have a character start many sentences with "Well" or use "like" often. If some people speak that way in the real world, it's valid for a character to have a voice that mirrors that.

In short...

LET YOUR CHARACTERS TALK LIKE ACTUAL, REAL PEOPLE.

Not only does this make them more realistic, but also more relatable to your readers. If everyone speaks like they're English Majors submitting a paper, if no one ever says anything that isn't useful or directly related, if no one ever loses their train of thought- they don't seem real. It's difficult for readers to tell characters apart who all sound the same, and even more difficult for them to picture them in their heads and imagine the scenes.

Unless your characters are all MEANT to be very hyper-scholastic or elite, they shouldn't be having conversations with fully proper formal dialogue in casual settings among friends. It ends up sounding very artificial.

But, what do I know, I guess.

[deerspherestudios]

Some questions regarding Atom because I absolutely loved this game and I've been non-stop drawing this spaguetti alien...

Are there any other songs you thought of when creating Atom's personality or that you wanted to include a reference to in the game? (aside from Moon Waltz, but that one already fits perfectly).

When Atom said that one day they would like to go "swimming" with the MC, did they really meant float around space or also visit other planets? Places? Maybe their home planet?

(I'm also curious on what Atom meant when they said that "they've seen worse" than the worms)

Is Atom still going to use the suit or is there any other way for it to move around (human-like that is)?

Sorry if something is worded weirdly and for asking so many questions! I'm Spanish but I'm really invested in your games, thank you Cheea!

Waaa I'd love to see your Atom drawings if you're up to sharing them! I usually don't go for stacked questions (just because they take longer to respond to and it's difficult to organize) but these were really fun to answer so I'll put them under a read more! <3

1. Are there any other songs you thought of when creating Atom's personality or that you wanted to include a reference to in the game?

Not a reference per se,,, but if Atom had a playlist I would add Villains of Circumstance by Queens of the Stone Age! QOTSA's one of my husband's favorite bands for the past year so the amount of times I've listened to this in the car has been one too many /lh It's soft and slow and heavy and eurghhh;; I think about the line "I sing only for you" a lot,,, plus a few other lines but you guys can make the connections if you happen to have a listen! Otherwise I'm gonna go off on a tangent that's way too long haha:

2. When Atom said that one day they would like to go "swimming" with the MC, did they really meant float around space or also visit other planets? Places? Maybe their home planet?

Atom being Atom they meant it literally haha! There's nowhere else for them to be other than near you, and they like the idea of a romantic outing floating among the stars. They think it's a lovely activity to do together; like that Wall-E and EVE dancing in space scene. Very cute very wholesome. Plus they're more used to being outside than in. Of course with MC's phobia, it might take a while for them to agree,,,

3. What did they mean when they said they've seen worse?

They've taken over bigger ships than the Bidadari in their search for you. That's all I'll say!

4. Is Atom still going to use the suit or is there any other way for it to move around (human-like that is)?

Considering their characteristics, yes they're still using the suit. Currently, there's no other way for it to move around that could pass as human. The main reason they use the suit is because they didn't wanna scare you on sight. Besides, they're more comfortable with the suit (and they're fully aware you don't like it when they touch you directly, so the suit helps). In fact, they'd be happy to occupy two or more of them so you can have an army of Atoms at your beck and call!

[loaisacult]

LOA IS A CULT. Everyone Including myself and those who are familiar with it, know it’s a cult! I know everyone lies for attention or to live in the end because I used to be a big blogger myself. I won't reveal who I was, but I saw firsthand how these bloggers, claiming to be friends in real life, are actually deceiving everyone—they're all liars. Behind the scenes, they're working regular jobs while curating content from friends and family to share as their own as proof. Many of them have multiple accounts and blogs to give the illusion of authenticity. If you don't believe me, create a fake account and replicate the process—fabricate a success story, and watch as bloggers emerge from the shadows seeking help. Most of them have disappeared now... I wonder why that is, lol. It's time to open your eyes to the reality behind these façades and question the true motives driving this deceitful tumblr .

Despite the presence of manifestors, witches, and astrologists manifesting against Donald Trump in the world it's amusing to see that he still emerged victorious and by a whole lot!!!

It's worth noting that among the founders of the law of assumption and the void state on platforms like Tumblr, inconsistencies and inaccuracies have surfaced in their stories over time – there seems to be a trend of untruthfulness, among them (it might be interesting for you to verify this observation by checking out posts from your favorite bloggers, especially the newer ones; I've taken a look and it appears they're all just making their posts using GPT !

"Persist with belief"; A call to continue holding onto faith and dedication similar, to how spiritual groups encourage their followers to stay steadfast in their beliefs.

“Embrace the mysterious without needing evidence." This mindset echoes the inclination towards accepting the unknown and intangible elements of existence often upheld by certain groups that prioritize faith in the unseen, over concrete proof.

Echoing the cults claims of enlightenment or salvation, without tangible evidence but guaranteeing miraculous transformations assures me of its validity.

Despite the uncovering of deceit and dishonesty by individuals within a system built on mistruth; trust and belief persist unshaken. Mirroring the resilience shown by groups, in the face of revealed falsehood.

"When someone blindly follows something or someone else – it's, like trusting without proof of why or how things work out in the end."

“Discover the truth within yourself”. Encouraging the exploration of truths and insights through belief in something greater; a familiar motif, in spiritual practices.

Encouraging connection, with the energy of the universe is a spiritual idea that highlights the importance of harmonizing with greater forces beyond our sight.

"Fulfill your destiny"; The concept of shaping your own future through faith alone is frequently referenced in spiritual communities as a means to claim authority, over your own life path.

“Rise above the boundaries of the realm " suggesting the possibility of surpassing earthly restrictions through belief in something greater; mirroring stories of spiritual groups seeking elevated levels of existence.

Calling upon the power of the Encouraging believers to tap into mystical powers is a common theme, in teachings of spiritual groups that offer promises of special intervention or extraordinary abilities.

These instances provide insight into the use of language, with spiritual cult like tendencies that focus on faith and commitments that extend beyond tangible proof.

Please, there are bloggers out there sharing and telling us to save Palestine, claiming you can manifest a trillion dollars out of thin air, yet they can't manifest an end to war or even a simple solution. They say you can't control other people, yet they talk about manifesting specific people,, changing your family completely, or even your own race. You all were claiming you were manifesting Harris. I thought manifestation never fails, loool. "Oh, just persist, it will reflect like Neville leaving the war," they say, but all Neville managed could very well fall under the coincidence category, just like healing a burned hand, hahahahah. It's baffling that people are wasting their lives on something they know deep down is false. For the children in this community, just stick to a routine, focus on school and work, and foster your own life. While doing so, perhaps listen to subliminals, but don't rely on these vicious lies. Your time and energy are too precious to be spent on such unfounded claims.

Before you start getting defensive in my comments, take a moment to think and tell me how long you've been manifesting. How long have you been persisting in this process? Share in the comments first, and reflect on how little has actually changed. When you ask questions of these bloggers, why do they always seem to victim blame you instead of providing real answers? They claim to love and care about you so much, yet they charge for subliminals and can't manifest even simple things like you entering the void state. They won't manifest for your mental health desires, despite all the supposedly enlightening infographics they share. They talk about being able to shift reality and consciousness, yet they can't offer real help. Isn't this just typical cult behavior? It's time to question the authenticity of these practices and recognize the inconsistencies.

Some of these bloggers are in their 20s and live on disability, which gives them both the time and money to spread misinformation and false hopes. If you're young and still have potential, please make wise choices. Some aspects of spirituality are indeed real, and manifesting can be a genuine practice, but remember there's a reason why 99% of these bloggers are deceitful. They all eventually leave before their lies catch up with them. It's a disgrace that they pretend to help you in their DMs while knowing you're struggling with issues like poverty and abuse. I truly hope things improve for you, but don't rely on this cult-like mentality.

Critics might come into the comments and claim you just have doubts, but that's not the case. Once I left the Law of Assumption and started genuinely working, studying, and ensuring my grades were satisfactory, my life changed. I got a boyfriend, landed my dream job, and even took steps towards my desired appearance with a nose job. These achievements didn’t just materialize from thin air; they came from hard work. I accomplished more in three months after leaving the cult than some do in five years. I know people who've been in this community for a decade—when will they wake up to reality? That nagging feeling of doubt is actually common sense trying to prevent you from ruining your life.

How many times are you going to think, "I can't tolerate my life; I'm just going to shift," before it becomes unbearable and you realize you're stuck? How many liars need to be exposed? How many times do people have to be scammed before they see the truth? The so-called void masters aren’t helping; if they could truly access the void, they'd expose the liars. But then they’d have to admit they're lying too, and that no one has achieved these creative writing promises. It's all for attention and affirming to manifest is not a magic solution.

Let's be real here—your favorite bloggers allowed the Turing administration to achieve a landslide victory, with the court gone, the Senate gone, the House gone, and the residence done. Project 2025 is in motion, but sure, everyone’s supposed to be GOD, right? You people are worse than religious fanatics. I secured my visa because I knew otherwise, I'd be stuck here; you can't rely on the fake law of assumption. Go ask your bloggers why Trump won, and they'll just tell you to persist or claim it's all an illusion. Seriously? We'll see how much of an illusion it is once Palestine is wiped off the map, and all these so-called void masters can do is make a note to ignore the 3D world, loool. It's absurd that they think such real-world issues can simply be brushed aside with wishful thinking. Time to question these beliefs and face reality.

This message isn't directed at the older members of this cult because, at this point, only you can wake yourself up. But to the younger ones, please focus on building your life in the actual world. It's very real, and your suffering will only worsen if you keep clinging to false hopes.

To all the bloggers who know they're spreading lies, go ahead and manifest that my post gets deleted. I apologize for even considering that some of you revise events where people have literally died. Try revising this post or imagine me apologizing. It's time to stop spreading deceit and start facing the truth. Your actions have consequences, and it's crucial to start acknowledging the reality of the world we live in.

Even those who claim to manifest outside of time are no different—they're all selling courses for hundreds of dollars each month, with packages reaching into the thousands. It's ironic, isn't it? They preach about manifesting abundance yet charge exorbitant fees for their wisdom. Just think about it for a moment: if they could truly manifest unlimited wealth and success, why would they need to profit off of your hard-earned money? The truth is, their business model depends on your belief in their promises, and they capitalize on that by offering overpriced courses that are often filled with recycled content. This practice raises questions about the authenticity of their teachings and whether they genuinely have your best interests at heart.

The feeling you’re having is your body and mind trying to tell you there's truth in what I'm saying. It's like they're working to save you from falling into the trap of delusions. You are caught up in loa and you’re actually caught up in their own illusions. Many of these successful loa folks outside of tumblr grew up in wealthy families, living good lives, and got richer with a mix of luck and hard work. That's why so much of this community feels ridiculous; it's mostly made up of kids chasing dreams and adults spinning lies or looking for attention because they have too much free time.

Society keeps these cycles going, making it easy to fool ourselves. The temptation of quick success and promises of an easy life are hard to resist, especially for those always surrounded by comfort and now searching for something deeper than just money. For some, the LOA community seems like a beacon of hope and purpose. But it's important to see that while some find value, others get caught in a loop of broken promises, clinging to the idea that just thinking positively will bring success without real effort.

This way of thinking can will you ppl away from reality, you’re following and worshipping people seeking likes and attention takes the place of real achievements. LOA IS A CULT. Please wake up