#getting bred by his brother husband in all ways possible.

[sunbleachedf4wn]

you can feel his omega pheromones through the phone. 💕

[absurdthirst]

The Future of Rome {Marcus Acacius x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.6k

Warnings: Mentions of orgies, whores, cuckolding, voyeurism, oral sex (male and female receiving), cream pie, breeding, mentions of feeding kink, vaginal sex, pregnancy, betrayal, conspiracy, murder

Comments: When Caracalla is unable to father a child on you, his empress, he enlists General Marcus Acacius to be his proxy between your thighs. Needing his general's seed in his efforts to father the next ruler of Rome.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you watch as your husband, Emperor Caracalla of Rome, paces in the large room, screaming and shouting like an overgrown child. At times, it feels like that is what he is, a child. A man child who controls the largest empire in the world, alongside his brother Geta. The two of them engaged in squabbles that would have all of the citizens of Rome demanding new leadership if they knew of them. “You must carry a child!” He hisses, turning and glaring at you as if you are at fault for the monthly flow of blood that comes between your thighs like clockwork. “How have you not been bred yet? I fill you nearly every week.” His eyes narrow and he stops his stride to turn towards you. “Are you doing something? Taking some tonic to prevent a child from growing?” 

You sigh, shaking your head. “Of course I would not.” You tell him. “It is my duty to provide you with an heir. Before Geta.” You know your husband wishes to best his brother by having a child before he does. “You are still fucking your concubines.” You remind him. “None of them have fallen pregnant with your bastard. Perhaps your seed is bad.” You could be risking his wrath by telling him what no hippocrates would, but he has never sired one bastard and he indulges in orgies and women all the time. You have no love for the husband you had been forced to marry by your father in return for Rome not destroying your homelands.

Caracalla’s eyes grow wide and he hisses, striding over to you and you brace yourself as he hits you across the face with the back of his hand. You gasp and he looms over you, “you dare to insult me like that, uxor? I am divine. Ordained by the gods and you are? Some whore daughter of a King who wilted under the glory of the Roman army. You are fortunate I chose you to be Empress. An honor I bestow upon you and you have the gall to question my seed.” He rants but he knows you could be true. He longs to have an heir before his brother and even if he fucks you every day, you still bleed. He has never fathered a bastard. You cup your cheek, keeping your head down and he sighs, “we must seek a solution.” He declares, frowning as he considers his options to ensure he beats his brother to the heir.

You bite your lip to keep from crying, knowing that tears would only incense the man you are married to even more. Caracalla does not like to see you cry, even if he is cruel and cutting. When he punishes you for any perceived slight. Tears are a sign of weakness in his eyes and he will not have you shed them in his presence. “What solution would you have?” You know he cannot seek out a healer, the risk of rumor would be too great. Any kind of whisper about this would make its way back to Geta. 

He paces in front of the balcony, the linens flowing in the breeze. “I need an heir who will be strong, a fighter. I need a boy. I need you to give birth to the next heir. We need to ensure that you get pregnant as soon as possible.” He murmurs, speaking his mind and he finally turns to you. “We need to have someone else get you pregnant. We need - General Marcis Acacius.” He declares, eyes wide.

You frown, trying to recall what the man looks like. He has been away from Rome for nearly two years, since just after you had married Caracalla. “He looks nothing like you.” You point out.

“I don’t need him to look like me. I need a boy and he’s a strong fighter. He will give our child the characteristics he needs to lead Rome and her army.” He declares, “you will fuck him when he returns.” He orders and you swallow harshly, knowing you will struggle to have relations with a man that isn’t your husband but you have no choice but to do as he demands.

“I will gift you to him to fuck.” He continues on, a wild and honestly frightening smile splitting his face. “It will be an honor, for fighting so valiantly for Rome.” He isn’t talking to you, but rather plotting out what will happen. You can’t quite recall what Marcus Acacius looks like, but you hope that he will be quick to cum like Caracalla, or at least his seed will take root quickly.

****

Marcus looks up at the marbled entrance as he arrives at the palace to meet the Emperors and tell them about his success in person. He’s sent messengers but he must tell them of his accomplishments rather than be allowed to return to his home to relax. He sighs as he adjusts the white and gold tunic and armor that suffocates him. It’s for display, not ideal for battle, and he knows the Emperors will have a feast planned soon after his report and he’s expected to be on display. He scratches his cheek as he is escorted through the halls until he arrives in the grand hall where the Emperors are waiting. He strides to stand before them and bows his head, “Rome is in your hands.” He vows, “we have conquered Africa.” He announces, “for you and for Rome.”

Dressed in snowy white silk and gold, you are sitting off to the side, ignored by your husband and brother as they had waited for the general’s approach. You had heard the crowds outside the palace, the roars echoing dimly and you sat up slightly from the chaise when the doors had opened. Finding a much different man than you had expected walking confidently towards them. He’s older than you remembered, but his gray hair is still pleasant as it mixes with his darker locks. He’s handsome, not the sharp nosed beauty of your fair husband, but darker, broader. His nose is curved and his eyes are the color of night from where you sit. You want to see them up close. He’s large, larger than Caracalla and you wonder if you are the whore some have whispered you must be, for you want to see what this man would be like inside you.

Caracalla cannot let his brother know his plan. No one can know. Geta greets Marcus who bows his head and his dark eyes flick over to you for a moment. When you arrived at the palace you were reluctant to marry Caracalla. He remembers hearing the rumors of your attempts to escape, and the way Caracalla treats you from guards that he served with. He clenches his jaw, standing up straight and the Emperors sing his praises so he offers them polite smiles. He’s sick of war. He’s tired of fighting an endless battle for more land when the Roman Empire is struggling. People cannot eat. Men are dying. It’s an endless grab for power and the Emperors are not fighting for it themselves. “Tonight, we feast in your honor.” Geta declares, clapping Marcus on the back and he follows the Emperors to the head table where he will sit while the court and the senate celebrate his success.

When his eyes land on yours, a shiver races through your body. This is a man who has seen death. Dealt out harsh punishments and narrowly survived. He’s much more rugged, raw. So different from your spoiled and foppish husband. He should be a leader for Rome, rather than a man who has never seen war. You are ignored, so you undrape yourself from your seat and slowly stroll into the hall to join the festivities.

Marcus notices you as you sit down beside your husband and he’s taken back by how beautiful you are but he also sees the sadness in your eyes. The lifeless stare across the room tells him you’re lonely while your husband guzzles wine and cheers for the victory he played no physical part in. He does as is expected, eating and drinking his fill but he thinks about the starvation he witnessed, the poverty that the empire has caused from taxing too much and forcing more war on its people. “We shall acquire whores to pleasure you, General.” Geta insists, “you will be serviced until you feel rewarded for your victory for Rome.” The court cheers and Caracalla then leans in towards you, “return to your room. I want you ready to take the general.” He commands, whispering in your ear.

You don’t sigh, nodding and leaning in to kiss his cheek for show before you stand up and walk out of the room without looking back. Knowing the Emperor, he will want you nude and wearing some of the jewels that had been sent back to Rome as tribute. You have already been bathed and perfumed by your servants in anticipation of your husband fucking you tonight, but Caracalla always demands privacy in the wing of the palace you live in. His oddity will work in his favor for concealing who is planting his seed in your belly tonight.

Marcus is ready to head home when Caracalla whispers in his ear, “I wish to speak privately.” Marcus frowns as he pulls back to look into the manic eyes of the emperor and he knows he can never deny him. He nods and stands with the emperor. He bows to Geta even though the other emperor is busy with his tongue down a whore’s throat as the festivities begin. Caracalla dismisses his guards with a wave of his hand and he guides Marcus through the halls until he enters his private chambers. Marcus is anxious, wondering if the emperor is going to kill him even though the idea is laughable. He’s been a man of luxury. Only carrying a sword for show and never for battle. The emperor still doesn’t speak as he strides over to the doors and he opens them to display you on the bed naked and draped in jewels, a nervous look on your face. “What is the meaning of this?” Marcus demands, confused and wanting to leave to retire to his villa. Not to play games.

“I tried to imagine what kind of reward a man of your talents would enjoy.” Caracalla hums as he smirks victoriously. You are a gorgeous creature and he knows that the man will have no problem mounting you. “Whores are too boring, they have had too many men, been soiled by their pleasures.” He takes Marcus’s shoulders and turns him back towards you and the bed. “But an Empress’s cunt? She’s only had one other cock. She’s practically pure and it’s tight.” He chuckles. “My brother gives you a common whore to fuck, I give you a royal cunt.” Again, it’s a competition between the brothers and he’s determined to best Geta.

Marcus’s eyes widen at the Emperor’s offer and he looks over at you. His cock twitches under his tunic at the way you’re on display for him, but he wonders if this is some kind of test from the emperor. He swallows harshly and looks back at Caracalla. “You honor me but I am - I am satisfied with whores. I do not want to sully the empress with my - with my body. She is divine and deserves to be fucked by a man like you, a man chosen by the gods.”

You lift a brow, wondering what the Emperor will say to that. Would he admit that he has been unsuccessful in breeding you? That there is something wrong with him? Or will he blame it on you? There is no telling with Caracalla. You shift to your knees, spread apart on the bed so he can get a good look at your body.

Marcus’s cock twitches again, hardening as your breasts bounce and he swallows harshly, averting his eyes once again. “I don’t - I don’t understand.” Marcus admits, knowing that only the emperor can fuck the empress to get her with child. “I want you to fuck my uxor and I want to watch.” Caracalla confesses, “and I want you to spill your seed inside of her.”

His eyes slide over your body again and you can see the way his cock is starting to lift the fabric of his tunic. Your nipples are hardening because you are enticing this war-hardened general. “The emperor is very generous.” You tell Marcus, sliding a hand up to cup one tit. “He has never been one to share and yet he wishes to honor his general.” You don’t mention why he would want such a thing. “Do you not like cunt?” You ask, wondering if he might prefer the boys in the bath houses. You have heard rumors of some senators who often prefer the company of men than their wives. Perhaps the general is one of them.

Marcus shakes his head, “no. I- I do. It’s just -” He looks at Caracalla, “you’re the empress and I cannot - the heir cannot be from anyone but the emperor.” Marcus reasons and Caracalla reaches out to squeeze his shoulder, “you have to understand, General, I am asking you to fill up my wife. We have been unsuccessful in our venture to have an heir and I must beat my brother to it. I wish for you to spill your seed inside my empress…regardless of the consequences.” He declares and Marcus’s eyes widen slightly as he understands what is being asked of him.

You can see that Marcus Acacius is not a foolish man, he understands the danger he has found himself in. He cannot deny the Emperor, and he could never speak of it. “Maritus.” You murmur softly, bringing his attention back to you. “Tell the general what kind of son you wish to have.”

Caracalla senses Marcus’s panic and he smirks, “I want a warrior son. Someone who will be strong and fight for Rome, to protect our line.” He says even though he knows the child would not be his blood. “The name. My name must continue through him. I want a gladiator and you possess those traits. I wish for my son to have them. Do you wish to fill my beautiful wife with your seed and produce the next heir to the Roman Empire?” He asks even though he knows no one says no to the emperor.

You can see that Marcus is torn. He can’t say no, just like you could not run away from him when he had decided to take you as his empress. “He is handsome.” You coo. “Strong. He will put a son you will be proud of in my belly.” You tell your husband. “While enjoying himself by having an empress spread her thighs for him.”

Marcus knows he can’t refuse. He must fuck you and you’re a beautiful woman but he prays to the gods that the emperor doesn’t change his mind and punish you or him after the act is complete. “As my emperor wishes.” He nods and Caracalla claps, “excellent. My uxor will strip you. I wish to watch the act.” He says, spinning to make his way to the chair in the corner. Marcus is shocked that the man wants to watch but he doesn’t deny him, knowing that could be his head. He nods and walks over to the bed, waiting for your move.

Sliding off the bed, you stand straight, unashamed of your nudity. You might have only had Caracalla as a lover, but he often wanted you nude to just gaze upon you while you were together. You reach for the golden laurel on his head and remove it gently. “Tonight we will see if your prowess in battle is matched by your vigor in bed.” You smile at him, wanting to make sure he doesn’t change his mind. “If your cock truly is as big as your sword.” You giggle. “Some of the women you have fucked talk.”

Marcus’s cock is hardening with your words and your touch. You are one of the most beautiful women in the empire, if not the most, and Marcus is not immune to your beauty. You set his laurel down and Caracalla takes his place in the corner of the room. He flusters at his reputation and wonders what you will think of him. If he lives up to the rumors.

You try to forget your husband is watching, concentrating on the man in front of you. The gold wrist cuffs come off and you wonder if he would prefer the unadorned look. Rather than being weighed down by the ostentatious trappings of his role. You know you would rather live simply. “Relax, General.” You hum quietly. “The emperor has taught me how to please him. Hopefully I will please you as well.”

Marcus is nervous, anxious, and every emotion a man can be when he’s being used for his seed and watched as he pleasures the wife of one of the most powerful men in the empire. He keeps his hands by his sides until you reach for the hem of his tunic. He’s ashamedly hard, unable to be anything but when you are in front of him. You smell delicious and he knows he’d be diving into your cunt if you came to his home without your status and stature.

Biting your lip, you lift the tunic to reveal his hard cock and you moan softly. “Step back, let me look.” Caracalla demands and you turn to the side to show the emperor his cock. “He is very well endowed.” Your husband smirks. “Good. I would hate for my son to have a less than impressive cock.” He is very proud of his own, even if he is not as thick as Marcus. You reach down and brush your finger over the length as you pull the tunic over his head.

He hisses when your fingers brush his length and you smirk, tossing his tunic aside. Caracalla often indulges in men when he is in the throes of an orgy and he is impressed by the general. His shoulders are broad and muscular. Strong arms. Tapered waist and a full head of hair, albeit graying, even in his ripe age. This is the man who could sire him a son who would be legendary in Rome. “Kiss him.” Caracalla demands, wanting to be in control even if it is not his seed securing his lineage.

You lick your lips, leaning in and press your lips to the slightly chapped ones of the general. You sense his hesitation, knowing that he is unsure of the motives behind this. Instead of pulling back, you press your breasts against his chest, feeling the light hairs covering his skin tickle you.

His fingers flex and Caracalla chuckles, “you can touch her, General.” There’s the permission Marcus needs. His hands slide along your back, pulling you even closer and one hand slides up your body to cup your cheek, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue finds yours and you squeak, unused to such aggressive kissing. Caracalla likes softer especially when he’s wanting the opposite of his lovers or orgies.

Your husband hums, reaching for his wine with one hand and reaching down to squeeze his cock with the other. If it would not potentially ruin the chances of you conceiving a child, he would join you. See how Marcus kisses. Instead, he takes pleasure in knowing that the most powerful general in his army is following his orders even off the battlefield.

Marcus groans into your mouth, his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass while he grips the back of your neck. He’s relieved that he sought the company of a whore before arriving back in Rome. He would embarrass himself if he were pent up. He loves the way your fingers tangle in his hair and he is glad to see the empress is not shy about taking what she wants.

The emperor very rarely lets you do what you wish, so this is a new experience for you and you are greedy for it. “Get on your knees.” The order comes from behind you and makes you pull away. Aware that Caracalla will still try to dictate the way you are fucked. “Let the general see you on your knees before him and feel your mouth around his cock.”

Marcus inhales sharply as he watches you sink to your knees in front of him. His sandals are still on his feet while his cock throbs from arousal. Your eyes are sultry as you look up at him,  looking like Venus herself. He swallows and hisses softly when you wrap your fingers around his cock.

You squeeze him gently, feeling him throb in your hand and you roll back the foreskin. You have pleasured your husband like this countless times and he claims you are good at it, so hopefully you don’t disappoint the general. Leaning forward, you press your tongue flat against the tip and then curl it around the head as you take him into your mouth. The general has bathed, so he tastes clean and musky.

His fingers flex by his side as you take him into your mouth. He groans quietly but Caracalla shakes his head, "I want to hear how my empress is making you feel." He demands and Marcus nods, groaning louder when you take him deeper into your mouth. "Fuck." He curses, his hand finding your cheek as he looks down at you.

You hum at his rough praise, feeling the way his hips slightly rock, like he wants to take control and fuck your mouth. Taking him deeper, you moan when the first spurt of his salty seed hits your tongue, a little treat to tell you he is enjoying it.

His eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the feel of your mouth around his cock. He can tell you’re not as experienced as the whores he has had but you are enthusiastic and he fucking loves that. “Open your eyes, Acacius.” Caracalla orders, wanting to see the pleasure on the man’s face.

You take him deep right as he opens his eyes and they widen in shock as he chokes out a sound that goes straight to your cunt. Pleased that you can make a man as strong and fierce as the general choke on his own breath. You start to bob your head quickly, wanting to hear more and to see his face screw up in pleasure.

Marcus groans, his chin resting on his chest as he watches you take his cock. “Fuck.” He grunts as your hands rest on his thighs as you take his cock in your mouth. His stomach clenches and he moans, shaking his head. “I am - I’m going to- shit. Stop.” He pleads, his cock twitching in your mouth.

You are surprised that he is already about to cum, but maybe he has been without the pleasure of a woman for too long. You pull off his cock, panting yourself as you wipe your chin. Your cunt is dripping and you are eager to see if his cock scrubs against your walls the way you hope he does. Despite your initial reservations about having sex with someone else, you now find yourself looking forward to fucking this man

He is shocked how quickly you worked him up but perhaps it’s because this is not a whore he’s paid for. You are the most coveted woman in the empire, a prize to your husband, and you’re on your knees for him. Caracalla smirks at the look on the general’s face. He looks worked up and the emperor smirks, “you need to spill inside her. Uxor, lay down on the bed and spread your legs for the general. Let him see how wet you get sucking a cock.”

You shift to your feet and turn around. Your eyes slide to your husband and you see that he is turned on, his own cock tenting his tunic. Laying down, you spread your legs. Bending your knees you run your hands down to spread the lips of your sex for him to see. “Soaked.” You moan softly.

Marcus’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your wet cunt. You’re dripping and he loves it. He reaches down to squeeze his cock as he shuffles closer. Caracalla smirks at the look on the general’s face. “You can fuck her, Acacius. You have the emperor’s blessing. Fill her with your seed and create the next emperor of Rome.” He demands and Marcus shifts to kneel on the bed. His free hand slides up your thigh until he’s pushing two thick digits into your dripping cunt.

Your eyes flutter closed on a loud moan, feeling the way his fingers stretch you out. His hands are rough, the skin scraping so deliciously inside you and making your legs shift and shake around his hips. This man will be so different from the only other man you have had sex with, you know that instinctively and for a split second, you pray to the gods that it will take more than one time for him to successfully fill you with his seed. 

He pumps his fingers, loving how wet you are around them, and he groans when you squeeze his digits. He wants you to cum like this. His thumb against your clit, he curls his fingers while your emperor watches you. His fingers squeeze his cock through his tunic while Marcus strokes his cock with his fist.

Your body responds to the sure, deep pumps of his fingers into your cunt. “Gods.” You whimper, watching as his dark, intense eyes watch his fingers move inside you. Completely focused on making you feel blissful before he mounts you. You won’t say that your husband hasn’t pleasured you, but it’s always been a byproduct of his own, rather than his complete goal. “It feels so good. His fingers are magical.”

Caracalla smirks as he watches your back arch and you moan as Marcus pumps his fingers into you. The room is filled with a squelch as you take what he gives you. “That’s it, Empress.” He coos, pressing his thumb harder against your clit.

You pant out your first name. “Call me by my name when you are inside me.” You order breathlessly, wanting to hear him say your name. Turning your head, you look to your husband behind you, seeing that he is actually enjoying watching you like this. You know he has attended many orgies and probably watched many people have sex, but his eyes are alight with glee, watching this general touch you.

Marcus watches you as you take his fingers and groans at the way you are fluttering around his digits. He says your name as a demand, wanting you to fall apart for him before he fucks you full of his seed. Caracalla watches and smirks, his cock now pulled out so he can slowly jerk himself at the sight in front of him.

Whimpering quietly, your body starts to react. Toes curling and thighs shaking as your cunt clenches down around his thick fingers. “Marcus!” Your gasp of his name is loud, almost surprised as the intense pleasure rips through you, his fingers pressing against something wonderful inside you.

He groans, cock twitching in his hand as you soak his digits and Caracalla chuckles, “she loves your fingers, General.” Marcus smirks and works you through it, pulling his fingers out after you start to whine. “You want me to fuck you, Empress?” He asks, smirking as he jerks his cock against your pelvis.

You moan, nodding as you try to roll your hips down. He looks confident now, like the general you know he must be on the battlefield. “I do, General. Fuck me full.”

He nods, shifting to position his cock at your entrance, swiping it through your folds as he groans softly when he notches himself at your entrance and starts to push inside you with a soft groan of your name. You’re so tight and hot, his eyes flutter closed at the way you feel around him. 

He’s thick. Thicker than Caracalla, stretching you more than his fingers did and pulling a long, wanton moan from your chest. You are taking another man. Having his cock inside you and you hear your husband groan as he watches. He sounds almost envious, but you can only care about the way Marcus fills you right now. “Fuck.” You whine when his hips are flush and his cock is pushed deep and kissing your womb. “Your cock is made by the gods.” You praise breathlessly.

Marcus looks down at you, his chest heaving at the way you are taking his cock and he shifts to his forearms so he can hover over you. Your legs lift to wrap around his hips and his face hovers near yours. “You’re so tight.” He hisses and Caracalla smirks, “I told you. She’s like a virgin.” He declares as he squeezes his cock in his hand, working himself as Marcus starts to move inside you.

That first thrust is a sharp snap of his hips. Making you scream and your nails dig into his biceps. Marcus freezes, fearing that he had made an error, but your thighs tighten. “More, move general.” You demand, wanting to see if he can make you scream like that again.

He loves the way you command him, reminding him of your status. He relaxes now that he knows he didn’t hurt you and he rocks his hips, pushing deep into you. “Empress. Scream for me.” He growls, leaning in to kiss your neck since he doesn’t know if kissing is permissible. His hips rock forward as he pushes against your cervix.

You moan softly, knowing that he will make you scream if he moves like this inside you. “Kiss him.” Caracalla orders, giving permission and you quickly turn your head to press your lips to Marcus's as his head comes up. He rocks into you steadily, your fingers tracing over the scars on his back and side as he fucks you. Mapping the wars that he has fought and the times he has survived to experience this moment. “So deep.” You whimper. 

He is lost in the feel of your hot cunt around his cock. Your body takes everything he gives you. His hips slap against your ass and he shifts his weight onto one arm so he can grab your thigh, pushing it back towards your stomach as he sinks impossibly deeper into you. His tongue sliding against yours to swallow your moan.

You don’t even think about Caracalla, although you hear the sound of him stroking his cock. Too taken by the way that Marcus fucks you. He’s rougher, harder than your husband and his pace makes your walls flutter around his cock every time he drills into you. It’s so wicked, forbidden and the people of Rome would be horrified if they knew that their Empress was being fucked like a common whore, but you love it. 

He groans into your mouth as you grip his shoulders and he rocks harder into you, wanting to feel you cum around him. His hand slides up your thigh until he’s rubbing your clit. He may have had many whores but he’s always prided himself on ensuring they were pleasured too. “Empress.” He groans against your chin, “want you to cum for me.”

You whine into his mouth when he comes back to kiss you. Rocking up against his fingers as you try to get as close as possible to him. One hand slides down to his ass, feeling it flex as he pumps into you. “Yes. Yes.” You chant, eyes closed in bliss.

Marcus grunts as he grinds into you, his fingers rubbing your clit faster as he wants you to cum for him. He kisses along your neck and Caracalla is invisible to him as he focuses completely on you. “Cum for me.” He demands and you cry into his mouth as you fall apart for him.

It’s good, better than any pleasure Caracalla has ever given you but you can never admit that. Your body trembles under his as your walls spasm around him. Making him groan as you gasp out his name. “Marcus!” You feel how you soak his cock and the sounds it makes as he fucks you through it.

He loves the way you squeeze him and he hisses your name, rocking into you. He knows he should hold off, make you fall apart again but he is wound up by the circumstances. “Fill her up, Acacius.” Caracalla demands and Marcus buries his face in your neck as he thrusts a half dozen more times until he’s pushing deep and filling you up with hot spurts of cum.

The hot splash of his seed makes you whine, eyes closed as you feel him ride out his pleasure, cock pulsing inside you. He doesn’t pull out of you immediately and you enjoy his weight on top of you. He is heavier, broader than your husband and you like feeling like you are at his mercy. The sweat slick skin of his back slides under your fingers and you stroke it and you sigh in bliss.

Marcus shifts to take his weight off you and he swallows harshly. He hasn’t cum that hard since he was with his wife. He kisses your neck without Caracalla seeing it and your emperor stands, cock in his hand, to stand at the foot of the bed. “Pull out of her. I want to see your seed drip out of her.” He demands and Marcus shifts to pull out of you. He lays beside you and Caracalla stands there, eyes dark as he takes in the sight of your dripping cunt.

You can’t really tell what your husband is thinking, his eyes wide and slightly manic. He’s not upset, that much you can tell. “What do you think, maritus?” You ask softly.

He smirks, jerking his cock as he kneels on the bed. “I want to cover you in my seed.” He says as he watches you while you lay on the bed, chest heaving.

You don’t dare look over at Marcus, keeping your eyes on your husband as he starts to buck into his hand. You can tell he’s already close from the groans. “Cover me.” You urge him, spreading your thighs wider. “Coat me and we will pray to the gods that they will give you a strong child.”

Caracalla doesn’t hesitate as he starts to cover you. Hot drops of his seed hitting your skin and covering your cunt that is still creamy from Marcus’s cum. “That’s it. It’s - our warrior.” He groans as he works himself empty of every drop while Marcus relaxes beside you.

You reach down and swipe your fingers through his seed and bring it up to your mouth. He loves when you taste him and he finally milks the last drops out of his cock as you moan softly, licking your digits clean.

Caracalla smirks, “perfect. Fucking perfect. You will be with child before we know it.” He says as he looks over at Marcus, “I want you here to fill her up every day until she’s with child.” He demands, “you will remain here in our quarters. No one will question you because we have no guards inside.”

You are surprised by the Emperor’s order, but you don’t question it. “Will you be present every time, or do you want him to fill me as often as possible?” You ask, looking over at the general to see what he thinks.

Marcus knows he cannot say no. He nods and shifts to sit up on the bed. “I shall do as my emperor desires.” He promises and Caracalla smirks, “you’ll fill her up every single day until it takes.” He demands and Marcus bows his head. “I will let you two decide the times. I cannot afford to spend too much time here and I don’t want people to get suspicious.”

“Of course, maritus.” You shift to your knees and press your lips to your husband’s briefly and he huffs before pushing you back down to the bed. “You must lay there.” He tells you. “Lift your hips so his seed isn’t wasted.”

Marcus reaches for his tunic, suddenly feeling awkward as he redresses while you lay down and keep your hips tilted. He possibly just got the empress pregnant and no one can ever know. The senate would have him killed for his treason, Geta certainly would. Caracalla tucks himself away and strides over to clap Marcus on the back. “I’ll show you to your rooms and we will have your things brought to the palace.” Marcus nods, letting the emperor guide him through the halls until he’s in an ornate room. “You have one job now, General. Fuck my uxor and fill her until it takes.” Caracalla says, his eyes a little manic. Marcus nods and watches the emperor leave. He looks around and sighs, wondering what he’s gotten himself into.

You lay with your hips for an hour. Bored and replaying your encounter with Marcus as Caracalla’s cum dries on your skin. He’s a better lover than your husband and you are ashamed of it, but you are looking forward to having him in your bed again.

Marcus looks around the room, unsure of what to do or say as he comes to the realization that his dream of enjoying time alone in his villa is long gone. He’s under the thumb of the emperor now and he must do as he says otherwise he will face execution.

****

The next afternoon, you find Marcus on the balcony, appearing deep in thought. “I am not disturbing you, am I General?” You ask softly, waiting by the pillar for him to acknowledge you. You wonder what he thinks about this, about being commanded to fill you with his child.

Marcus turns to look at you, reminded of how beautiful you are as the sun shines on your face. “Good day, Empress. You’re not disturbing me.” He promises, “are you well?” He asks, wanting to make sure he hasn’t harmed you.

“I am.” You smile as you walk out onto the balcony and look at the gardens below. “Sore, in a very good way.” You assure him, glancing over at him before looking back out at the neatly manicured hedges and plants. “I hope that you do not feed trapped here.” You murmur softly. “I am sure you are used to doing what you wish when you wish it.”

Marcus looks down at the olive trees and sighs, his hands wringing together. “You and I both know we have no choice but to follow the orders of the Emperor. I did not imagine returning from war to engage in the breeding of the empress. You are a beautiful woman and if you were not the uxor of Caracalla, I would be thanking the gods for letting me be in your bed, but the circumstances are…unusual. As long as you have need of me, I’m at your service.” He assures you, “it is not a task to fuck you but I worry for the day the emperor changes his mind.”

“Caracalla cannot have anyone know about his bad seed.” You murmur quietly. “Especially not Geta. He will not change his mind, but…..” you look around and lower your voice. “I do not trust that he might get rid of you once I have given birth to a son.”

Marcus turns to look at you again, “I would not be surprised but I’d rather have that issue several moons from now instead of being killed for not following orders. It will not be a hard task to put a child in you but you must tell me if you do not wish to take me.” He insists, “I do not want to fuck an unwilling woman.”

You snort, turning to look out at the gardens so he doesn’t see your embarrassment. “He would have my tongue cut out for admitting this, but you are better.” You admit softly. “I spent an hour with my hips tilted towards the gods, replaying what you had just done to me, imagining it happening again and again.”

Marcus turns to look at you, eyebrows raised, and he cannot deny that his cock twitches while his chest puffs with pride. “Is that so? Do you wish for us to…repeat the event soon to ensure the next emperor of Rome? I must admit that I have had many women, most of them whores, but no one has made me cum as hard as you did.”

That makes you straighten, pleased by the notion that you can bring this general to his knees. Making his core quiver in pleasure despite your lack of experience with partners. You bite your lip and turn towards him. “Perhaps we should retire and make sure that we have enough energy for our next session?” You ask, your fingers sliding along the smooth marble edge of the balcony to touch his hand. “The emperor was most insistent that you fill me often. I believe that we should obey his orders.” 

Marcus smirks, seeing the eager look in your eyes, and he leans closer. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint the emperor. Shall we convene in your quarters or mine?” He asks, his eyes dropping down to your lips. You’re forbidden to everyone except Caracalla and now…him. It’s intoxicating especially when you tell him he’s better. Even if it’s just to float his ego. 

“Yours.” You decide, wondering if it will be acceptable to him. “Unless you need to leave again as soon as it’s done?” You ask, hoping that he would not want you to leave. You spend a lot of time by yourself and you are curious to hear about his campaigns and the places he has seen. 

He glances back over the gardens, “I am here to fulfill an order from the emperor and I wish to do it to the best of my ability. Let us retire to my quarters and you are welcome to remain as long as you please.” He promises and he wants to speak to you about your former kingdom, your father, and the army who took you from your home to deliver you to the Emperor.

Nodding, you feel that same odd sense of giddiness that had overcome you last night. A forbiddenness that has been temporarily allowed, even ordained by the gods. A taste of normalcy, where you can pretend that you are not an Empress. Nothing but a woman that this handsome, virile man wants. “Call me by my name.” You ask, almost as a plea. 

His eyes meet yours and he licks his lips as he says your name. He loves the smile you give him in return and his hand brushes yours, “lead the way, empress.” He demands, saying your name again when you narrow your eyes at him.

“Do you prefer to be called by your rank or your name?” You ask softly, turning away from the balcony and walking back inside with him towards his chamber.

“You can call me by my name.” He says, following you as you walk through the hallway to his newly assigned quarters. It’s more than anything he’s ever had before. Even in his beautiful villa. He follows you inside and shuts the door behind you, “you are exquisite.” He declares when you turn to look at him.

“Do you claim those words for every whore you fuck?” You ask curiously, tilting your head as you smile at him, showing him that you are teasing. “Or do you save that for the special ones?”

Marcus shakes his head, “there’s usually no words when I have a whore in my quarters. I like to speak with my actions. Not my words.” He confesses, stepping over to you. He reaches up to cup your cheeks, “you truly are Venus herself.” He murmurs, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.

“You are handsome.” You admit breathlessly. “Strong, fierce. Like Apollo.” Your hands run up the soft white tunic he is wearing. “I thought so last night when you were inside me. Riding me hard and yet-“ your lips brush against his. “Your lips were tender.”

His cock twitches at the soft contact of your lips and he can’t help it. He grabs the back of your neck and drags you closer to him, tilting his head so he can press his lips to yours. You’re so soft against him, pliable as his other hand grips your waist.

He’s so dominant, in control. You can tell this is a man who is used to being in charge, taking what he needs to take. You don’t resist, pressing yourself against his hard body, letting the kiss deepen as you open your mouth and let out a soft moan.

His tongue slides against yours and he groans you relinquish power to him. You’re so eager to please. He wants to taste you though, all of you. His mouth pulls away from yours so he can kiss along your jaw down to your neck, and he starts walking you backwards towards his bed.

You let him guide you, willing to do whatever he wants. Although it’s easy to see that he wants your dress off when his fingers reach for the ornate pin on your shoulder that keeps the material up. You wonder if it will be different this time since Caracalla isn’t watching.

He pulls on the pin and your robes fall to the marbled floor, exposing you to the cool breeze and he pushes you back onto the bed, loving the way your tits bounce as you fall backwards. He wants to taste you so he grabs your waist, lifting you higher up the bed, and he pushes your thighs apart, wasting no time before he dives in to slide his tongue through your folds.

You gasp in surprise, eyes widening as you lurch up. It’s not that you’ve never had this kind of attention, but that it’s rare. Caracalla prefers to have your mouth on him. Your fingers tangle into his hair and you moan loudly when he flicks his tongue over your clit.

He groans at the tangy taste of your arousal. His fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes them apart so he can slide his tongue against your clit. “Fuck.” He curses when he pulls back for a moment, spreading you with his thumbs so he can suck your clit into his mouth.

You whine his name, closing your eyes. “Marcus.” Your hips roll up until he throws one arm over your waist to pin you down. Holding you in place while he does wonderful things to your cunt with his tongue.

He laps at your cunt, wanting to hear you fall apart for him. There’s no rush for this. Caracalla isn’t watching and you are alone with the general. He approaches your cunt like a battlefield, using the best method to make you fall apart for him. He laps at your clit, his fingers digging into your thigh as he pushes it towards your stomach with a groan.

You pull your thighs back like he wants, reaching down and holding them so he can lick as deep as he wants into you. Moaning out his name again as he continues to feast on your cunt like a man who has been given his last meal besides an execution.

He groans into your flesh, loving the way you open yourself up for him, and he slides his tongue as deep as he can go, loving the tang of your arousal and the way you moan his name.

He groans in your flesh, vibrating it deep into your core and it makes you clench around his tongue. Pushing your hips down against his face, you want to grind into it. To ride his tongue. You’ve heard of such things, witnessed some of the orgies when you had been spying on your husband’s parties after you had been sent off to bed. “Marcus, oh fuck. I- it’s so good.”

He loves hearing your cry of pleasure and his nose presses against your clit. His hand on your hips slides up to squeeze your breast, wanting you to cry out his name again. At this moment, he doesn’t care about anyone hearing your cries even though the Emperor wants this to be your dirty secret. He groans and pinches your nipple, wanting you to fall apart again.

You shiver, your legs tremble as you climb closer to your peak. Feeling your body start to buck again as he pinches your nipple again. “Cum for me and I’ll fuck you.” He rasps out, pulling away from your cunt long enough to order you to cum before he dives back into it. Throwing you over the edge with another swipe of his tongue, your cunt starts to gush in pleasure as you clench around nothing.

He laps up every drop you offer. Like elixir, he greedily sucks at your folds and your clit, working you through your orgasm as his fingers grip your body to keep you in place until you push his head away, overstimulated. He’s aching, hard and pressing into the bed.

“Gods.” You pant, pushing to your elbows and looking down at him. “You are good at that.” You reach down and grab his shoulder to drag him up. “Kiss me.” You beg, not caring that your juices are on his mouth. “Then I want you to fuck me.”

He cannot deny you anything. Shifting onto his knees, his cock tenting his tunic as he leans down to press his lips to yours. He shifts his weight to push against you and he hisses when you reach for the hem of his tunic to pull it over his head, breaking the kiss.

“You are gorgeous.” You whisper, reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. “Do you like to fuck away the heat of battle when you come back to your tent?” You ask curiously. “Do you prefer a softer touch then to counteract the violence of earlier?”

He groans, looking down at your soft hand around his cock, “it depends. Mostly it’s rough, fuck away the adrenaline.” He says and leans in to kiss along your jaw as he holds his weight over you. “Gods, you are - let me inside you.” He pleads, needing to feel your hot cunt again.

You spread your thighs wider, lifting a leg to hook onto the side of his hip. “Fuck me.” You order him, surprised that he had even asked permission.

You release his cock and he grips himself, pumping his length a few times, squeezing as he positions himself at your dripping entrance. He slowly pushes into you, wanting to feel how hot and wet you are as he gives you inch after inch of his cock.

It’s slower than last night. As if he is savoring every inch as he pushes inside you. You don’t rush him, enjoying the way his cock scrubs against your walls slowly, breaking you open and making your cunt fit him inside. Holding onto his shoulders, you encourage him with your sounds, moaning in pleasure and caressing his skin as he pauses halfway inside you.

He surges forward to press his lips to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he pushes the rest of the way inside you. His cock twitches once he presses against your cervix, groaning at how you’re gripping him. His hand caresses your side as he slides his hand up to your breast.

His grip on your flesh is possessive, sure. Taking more liberties now that your husband is not directing his movements. “I’m yours now.” You murmur softly in encouragement. “Touch me. Explore me. Use me how you want.”

He knows you’re not his, can never be his, but you are in this moment, and he’s greedy. He groans, kissing along your neck, and he ducks his head down to take your nipple into his mouth. He bites down, sucking on the hardened nub, and he loves how you cry out at his touch.

You love your breasts being played with. Caracalla has a feeding obsession, wishing that you produced milk, but hopefully soon you will be able to. You wonder if Marcus would want to taste milk from your breasts.

He groans at the way your hand tangles in his hair and he starts to move inside you. “Fuck. You feel so good.” He murmurs against your sternum, turning his head to take your other nipple into his mouth.

You whimper his name, letting him rock you closer to pleasure as he suckles at your breast. “Fuck, you- I can’t describe it.” You admit breathlessly. “You are like a god.”

He chuckles, his breath washing over you, and he grabs your thigh, “you’re a goddess. Fucking - fuck. You’re Venus. I am merely here to worship you.” He declares, his voice is raspy.

It’s intimate, so intimate that it makes your eyes wet with yearning. He feels like he is speaking to your soul, even if it is just the moment. You aren’t used to such soft words and you turn your head to press kisses to his broad shoulder, not wanting him to see you choked up.

He shouldn’t feel like this, like this is right where he should be. You belong to Caracalla and he should still mourn his wife, but the way you take his cock has him groaning your name into your neck as he tries to conceal the way you’re making him feel.

Your body responds to him so easily, making every roll of his hips push you higher. The pants and moans grow steadier every time he pushes deep and the inhale of anticipation when he draws back. The rhythm is one that neither one of you questions, each pushing towards pleasure together. “Fuck.”

He wants you to cum for him, needs to hear and feel it. He grabs your other thigh, pushing it back towards your stomach so you are folded over. He groans your name, kissing along your jaw to press his lips to yours. He slides his tongue into your mouth and drops his hips to grind his pelvis against yours.

Your moan is sealed into your mouth with his lips, or maybe it’s absorbed by him. All you know is that your nails dig into his shoulders as he works himself deep into your cunt. Pressing harder and harder with every roll of his hips. “Oh gods!”

Your cry into his mouth makes him smile against your chin, rocking into you a little faster as you clamp down on his cock. His pelvis and balls are soaked with your release and he hisses when you squeeze him like a vice. “Fuck.” He grunts, eyes closing as he works you through it. He pulls out when you relax beneath him and he rolls over, your body on top of his. “Ride me, empress. I want you to take another wave of pleasure from my body.” He demands, smacking your ass.

Eyes wide, you sit up, your hands on his chest. “I’ve never- never been in charge before.” You admit, even though you would love to do such a thing. “I- help me?” You ask, grinding down on his length and wanting him inside you again.

He suppresses his chuckle at your wide, uncertain eyes, but he loves how you look on top of him and the fact that you haven’t done this before. He reaches down to grip his cock, telling you to lift up. You shift to lift up and he positions his cock so you can sink back down onto him. “Rock your hips.” He commands, wanting to help you ride him.

He feels different from this angle. Bigger. His cock pressing against different parts of your walls and you gasp in pleasure when you roll back down on him. “Gods.” Your eyes close and you lean back, enjoying the way his cock stretches you this way. “You feel even bigger. Like you are right here.” Your hand covers your stomach. “You are in my womb.”

“I will be. I will fill you until it takes.” He promises, his hands gripping your hips. He helps you start to rock and you moan, your mouth falling open and he loves the way your tits bounce as you start to get a rhythm together.

It’s so different, being in charge. If you slow down or grind down harder, Marcus groans and twitches inside you. Like he’s enjoying you using him. Your body moves eagerly, loving the sounds he makes as he digs his fingers into your hips. “Gods, your cock is made for my cunt.”

“That’s it, empress. Take what you want from me. Use me.” He demands, his hand slapping your ass while the other grips your waist. He watches you take your pleasure and he loves the way your chest heaves when you get the angle just right.

You squeal when he slaps your ass again, clenching down around him. He is so commanding, even when he is under you and yet he lets you control him. If you pulled off his cock right now, you know he would let you. It’s freedom, and you’re breathless when you collapse onto his chest to press your lips to his.

He groans, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to keep you close, his tongue sliding against yours. He loves the way you rock back onto him and he wants you to make yourself cum. He needs you to cum again for him.

You lean into the kiss. Continuing to work yourself on his cock. Whining softly when your cunt starts to pulse until you are locking down around him with a cry into his mouth.

He groans when you cum for him again, soaking him, and he wraps his arms around you. He hisses your name and starts to thrust up into you. He can’t hold off any longer as he works himself towards your orgasm. He pushes deep into you, his cock twitching inside you as he starts to paint your walls with his cum.

You turn and press kisses to his jawline and moans softly. “That feels so good.” You murmur, resting your head against his shoulder and feel him riding out his high.

He pants as he closes his eyes, trying to catch his breath. He’s never felt like this before. Like his soul is leaving his body. He caresses your spine, fingers lazily trailing along your skin as he breathes you in.

“Can I stay like this?” You ask softly, content to lay just like you are if he will let you. You reason that having his cock still stuffed inside you is even better than tilting your hips up. “Am I too heavy?”

He shakes his head, “no, not too heavy. You can stay like this.” He says softly, closing his eyes as he enjoys the weight of you on top of him. He feels tired, his eyes still closed as his cock softens inside you.

You don’t realize you fell asleep until you wake up. Still on top of him with his arms secured around you. Holding you in place as he breathes softly underneath you. He’s still sleeping, making you softly turn your head up and watch him. He’s beautiful when he sleeps and you hope that the child you have looks like him.

Marcus wakes up when he feels your stare and he offers you a soft smile, “wore me out.” His chuckles vibrate through you and he sighs, glancing over at the balcony to see the sun is setting. “The Emperor will be wanting your presence.” He says softly, “we must clean up and I’ll leave you to your peace.”

“The emperor is attending a feast tonight.” You hum, knowing that you should probably keep your distance from the general when you are not letting him fill you. “I will be presented and then expected to leave before the festivities begin.” You snort. “There will be an orgy.”

Marcus snorts, “I never understood the appeal.” He confesses, “I like connection. Even with the whores I bedded, I felt connected to them even if only for the night.” He admits before he bites his lip, “do you like your life here or do you miss your home?”

“I miss home.” You want to hope that he will not tell the emperor. He doesn’t like when you admit somewhere else might be better than Rome. “I don’t have many people who will talk to me. Or spend time with me. I’m lonely.” You sigh. “Only to be seen and to bear the emperor's children.” Your father had sent you to marry the younger brother in order to preserve peace for your realm.

Marcus sighs, “I’m sure you do. I miss my village. When I was a boy, my father was killed in war and my mother struggled to survive, to feed us. As soon as I was able, I left to join the army. I wanted to send coin back to my mother but by the time I returned home, she was dead.” He murmurs, brow furrowed because he hasn’t thought about this for so long. “I threw myself into the fight until I met my wife. She was the daughter of a noble and I never imagined I’d be able to ask for her hand, so I fought hard to rise in the ranks until I could ask her father for his blessing. When we married, I was so happy, and she became with child. Then the day of our son’s birth…she died. So did he.” He’s lost in the agony of the memory, swallowing harshly as he tightens his grip on you.

You sigh softly and reach up to caress his cheek. Even though their deaths weren’t recent, you can see the despair on his face. “My prayers to the gods that they are peaceful together in death.” You murmur softly. “You gave yourself to the army and to Rome after that.” You know what it feels like to have nothing to live for, you feel like a prisoner with a decorative chain around your neck. Leaning in, you press your lips to his in a kiss meant to comfort.

He sighs into the kiss, cupping your cheek as he kisses you softly. “And now I give myself to her Empress.” He murmurs, “I shall fetch us some wine.” He says and you nod, shifting off him and he moves off the bed so he can get you a cup of wine.

He moves easily in his own skin, unashamed by his nudity and the body he possesses. He is not as firm as he might have been in his youth, but there is a leanness to him still that makes the broadness of his shoulders and bulk of his muscles incredibly appealing. There is a strength in his frame that Caracalla could never possess. “Do you mind?” You ask softly. “Knowing that your child will be claimed by Rome?”

He pours the wine as he contemplates his answer, “I have no choice. Even if it is not my wish, I cannot say no. As for the child…I am a general. I will die in battle and I would wish for my child to be taken care of. I know this child will be taken care of to the fullest extent.” He confesses, “I can die in peace.”

It’s wise, pragmatic even, but you still feel a sudden wave of sadness thinking about this man falling in battle. “Then I must learn all I can about you.” You murmur softly, smiling when he walks back over and hands the cup to you. “So I can tell him stories about a man that he should admire.”

Marcus offers you a soft smile, appreciating you wanting to tell your child about him. “He can never know that Caracalla is not his father.” Marcus reminds you, “he must be the rightful heir. But if you wish to tell him about your friend, I am willing to share myself with you.” He offers, “but you must tell me more about his mother,”

“That sounds fair.” You smile and take a sip of the wine as you lounge in his bed, completely nude. This is the most relaxed you have been since you have been sent to Rome and you know it is because of him, “I will tell you everything.” You promise.

****

Marcus groans as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him again as sweat glistens on his skin. He grunts, jaw clenched as he rocks into you from behind, his hips hitting your ass so the only noise in the room is slapping skin. He's been fucking you for two months now, spending nearly every night in your bed. Caracalla has entertained himself with his whores and orgies, leaving Marcus to make you scream his name every night.

You collapse down to your elbows, face on the cool sheets as he fucks you through the spasms of pleasure. “Amor, cum for me.” You beg, losing yourself to the moment and slipping up. Calling him an endearment you have kept inside you for weeks now. You spend all day, everyday with Marcus. Falling in love with the general and wishing that you were free to be with him. You feel as if he cares for you, but that just might be the sex that he enjoys.

Your words send him over the edge and he pushes deep as he cums, painting your walls for the umpteenth time. You missed your bleed last month but no one announced a pregnancy, wanting to be sure that you are with child. Marcus is reluctant to have it declared, knowing that his duty will be done and he will be sent away back to his villa, away from you. You are unlike any woman he's ever known. Strong, smart, beautiful, and you are lonely. He senses how isolated you are so he has spent a lot of time with you, discussing his battles, your battles - different in their methods but no less weary - and he has fallen for you. You are not his though, you belong to Caracalla and if he even dared to think about you being his, he would be killed.

Whining in pleasure as he fills you, your legs slide out from under you. Bringing you down to the bed and knowing that he will follow you. You love how close the two of you are, how he loves to touch you and keep touching you. You catch your breath and start to giggle softly, feeling him twitch when your walls clench around him in the aftershocks. “I love how you feel inside me.” You hum, lazy now that your body has been used and satisfied equally.

Marcus follows you, keeping his weight off of you just in case you are with child, and he kisses along your back. “You take me so well.” He murmurs, resting his forehead on your lower neck as he hovers over you. “Do you think…do you think you are with child?”

“I should not say this, but I hope I am not.” You sigh softly. “I have become accustomed to you in my bed and between my thighs. I do not want to give such a pleasure up.”

Marcus pulls out of you and shifts to lay down beside you, “perhaps…perhaps we can continue this. Ask the Emperor if he will allow us to copulate until the babe is born. He may allow us to continue in each other’s company, saying it’s to ensure the baby’s health.” He ponders, reaching out to cup your cheek, “I do not wish to give you up just yet.”

“I do not want to give you up either.” You confess softly, leaning into his touch. “You have become important to me. I….care for you.” It’s dangerous to admit, but you have to tell him that much at least. “I will ask the emperor to continue spending time with you.” You promise.

Marcus knows the request could be easily denied but he wants to continue spending time with you. He nods, shifting to pull you into his chest, burying his nose in your neck. He's gotten lazy, not wanting to train when he could be spending time with you.

****

“Congratulations, empress.” The Hippocrates you had called to the suite beams at you as he packs away his tools and tinctures. “The emperor will be pleased and the empire will drink to the health of your child.” You cover your womb protectively and wonder how Caracalla will take the news. Even though he had demanded this, he could always have a different view now that it is done. “Thank you.”

Caracalla is beaming when you tell him the news, pleased that his plan has worked and he can tell his brother that his child will be the next in line. “If it’s a son.” Geta hums and Caracalla nods, “it will be. A strong boy.” He celebrates by holding a party and you are alone, needing “to rest and protect the baby” in your quarters when Marcus enters, his brow furrowed. “What is the occasion for the orgy?” He asks, not having heard the news yet as he was training with his men all day.

When Marcus comes in, you rush over to him, flinging yourself into his arms and pressing your lips to his. Now truly able to celebrate the baby since his father has come home. “I am carrying your child.” You whisper softly, “your child. Not Caracalla’s.” You bite your lip and reach down to cover your womb. “I do not feel as if this child is his. It belongs to the man I love.”

Marcus’s eyes widen at the news and he pulls back to look down at your hand on your stomach. “Our child.” He murmurs in awe, unable to believe it’s happened despite him spending every night in your bed. He grabs the back of your neck, dragging you to his lips, and he pulls back after several moments to declare “I love you.”

You close your eyes in relief, letting out a small sob. “I love you too, Marcus.” You whisper softly. “In another life, we would be together.” You hate that you are the empress, that you are Caracalla’s wife and not his. “I wish we could change our fate.”

Marcus nods, “me too.” He cups your cheeks and sighs, “I love you, amor.” He murmurs and kisses your forehead, “for now, let us enjoy our time together before I am sent away. Let me worship the mother of my child.” He declares, shifting to kneel down in front of you.

“I will talk to the emperor.” You hadn’t had a chance to talk with him in private before he was rushing off to plan a feast and orgy to celebrate ‘his’ virility. Reaching down, you run your fingers through his dark curls and pray to the gods your babe has those same locks.

Marcus lifts your tunic, exposing your body to his hungry gaze, and he leans in to kiss your lower stomach as you bunch your tunic up under your breasts. His hands caress the back of your legs as he kisses down to your mound, burying his nose in the curls at the apex of your thighs. “Want to taste you.” He murmurs against your skin, shifting so he can slide his tongue through your folds.

Marcus is very talented with his tongue. He has proven that over the past months and you moan in pleasure. He lifts a leg onto his shoulder and you feel so exposed. Like a god being serviced by a mere mortal. He makes everything good. “Marcus.” You pant, closing your eyes briefly before you look down at him on his knees. Wanting to memorize this moment in fear that you might not have it again.

He groans at the tangy taste of your arousal, sliding his tongue through your folds and lapping at your clit like he’s worshiping Venus. He wants to savor every second of being with you before he’s sent away. It could be any second Caracalla decides his job is complete and sends him back to his villa.

His hands hold you in place, keeping you upright while he takes his time to lick through your folds and making you moan his name loudly.

He squeezes your ass just as the doors open and Caracalla strides in, dressed in his robes and taking a moment from the party. “Ah, Acacius. You are taking care of the Empress. Well done on ensuring I have an heir.” Caracalla watches as Marcus doesn’t stop, his tongue lapping at you. “I heard that fucking during pregnancy ensures a boy. I want a son. You will remain here in the palace to make sure I have an heir.” He declares, his cock twitching at the way you moan and Marcus sucks on your clit.

Your eyes find your husband, his face filled with pride and lust. “Yes.” You agree quickly, since it’s exactly what you want. “You need a son, my emperor.” You moan. “He will keep filling me, making sure you get what you need. A strong son.” You bite your lip. “He has served his emperor well and will continue to do so.”

Marcus loves your praise, continuing to ignore Caracalla’s presence as he works you towards your orgasm. He wants to be greedy, to have you like this for as long as he can before he has to leave you. “Keep pleasuring her, Acacius.” Caracalla orders and spins in his heel, wanting to enjoy his evening at the party celebrating his heir. “Keep her cumming.” He shouts back before he shuts the door and leaves you and Marcus together.

You push his head away as soon as the door slams shut and you drop to your knees. Needing to kiss Marcus now that you know that he’s not going to be sent away.

Marcus whines into your mouth in protest but he can't deny you. He cups your cheek and deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as his other hand grabs your ass to pull you against him, his cock hard under his tunic.

You kiss deeply, thoroughly. Panting into his mouth and gasping for air when you break apart. “I love you.” You moan. “I need you inside me. Here, now.”

He grabs your thighs, lifting you so you are hovering over him as he kneels on the floor. "Take my cock and put me inside you." He demands, holding your weight over his body.

You fumble with his tunic, reaching underneath and pumping his cock before you line him up with your cunt. Moaning when he slowly lowers you down on him. “Fuck, amor.” You whimper, feeling him like it’s the first time all over again. You feel like you’re more sensitive but it just might be from the emotional turmoil.

Marcus inhales deeply when you sink down on him, engulfing him in your wet, hot cunt. "Fuck." He pants against your jaw as you grip his shoulders when he's fully inside you. "I love you." He murmurs against your skin, wanting you to know how he feels.

Your arms are around his shoulders, fingers tangling into his hair as he holds you up in his thighs. “I love you.” You promise him, knowing that even if your body belongs to Caracalla, your heart belongs to him. “You are my one love. Forever.”

“Fuck. I love you. Never thought - never imagined I could ever feel like this again. Fuck, I want you to - to take all of me and cum again.” He demands, starting to work you on his cock.

You moan in agreement, letting him take charge and control your pleasure. He’s so good at it. There’s only been a handful of times you’ve not cum on his cock and that was only because he was so worked up he came too quickly. However he had made sure he had pleasured you with his fingers and tongue afterwards.

He rocks you on his cock, wanting you to soak his cock again, and he grips your thighs. “Fuck, te amo, amor.” He rasps, leaning in to press his lips to your neck, tasting the sweat and salt of your skin.

Your eyes water and you wish for a split second that Caracalla was dead and you could celebrate your love. Holding him close, your walls are already trembling around his cock as he rocks up into you. “Yes.” You moan, loving when he uses his mother’s tongue.

He is lost in the feel of you, his cock twitching inside you as he rocks into you. He imagines for a brief moment, a life where he can be with you. A life together with your child. It's not possible though. The Emperor would have him killed, could still have him killed, and it's a dangerous game that Marcus has gotten involved in.

Your toes push off on marble floors, helping you bounce on his cock and you could stay just like this with him forever. You want to stay like this. “I love you. You are my love, my amor.” You moan in his ear. “I would be Marcus Acacius’s wife.”

Your words are treason but they make his cock twitch inside you, closer to his orgasm. He groans your name, pressing his lips to yours as he rocks a little faster, needing to feel you clamp down on his cock. “You’d be mine. I’d die for you.” He promises, “mine. Mine. Mine.” He growls against your lips.

You both are vowing things to each other that would have you both killed, but you don’t care. His next thrust pushes you over the edge and you cry out into his mouth as your walls soak him in hot waves of your pleasure.

His hand finds your ass, rocking you as you shudder through your orgasm, and he groans, thrusting a few more times before he falls apart. “Fuck. Fuck. Empress.” He pants, cock throbbing as he paints your walls, his hands squeezing you closer to him.

You cling to him, both relieved that he is going to stay beside you for the foreseeable future and desperate to never have him leave you at all. “You are perfect.” You kiss his neck gently, stroking his back over his tunic that he couldn’t be bothered to take off. Both of you are still dressed, but the moment had been perfect regardless.

He snorts, knowing he’s not perfect, but he wants you and he is going to protect you and the baby until his last breath. Caracalla wants him to stay and that is the best thing he can wish for right now. “Let’s get you cleaned up and settled. You need to rest for the baby.” He reminds you and helps you shift off his cock.

Grinning, you look down at him as he climbs to his feet. “You are going to be overprotective from now on?” You ask, already aware of the answer. He will be protective, he will take care of you. You are already in love with the baby in your belly and you feel like he is the same way.

****

"Fuck, amor." Marcus groans as you rock on top of him. Your bump pressing against his stomach as he rests his back on the wall while you ride his cock. Your knees dig into the bed beneath and his hands cup your sensitive breasts. He's been in your bedchamber for the past six months and he falls more in love with you with each passing day. It will surely kill him to leave you when he is ordered to return to war, but he will go. You can never be his. Caracalla will never permit a divorce and he will be killed for treason. He must go after the babe is born.

Caracalla hadn’t spent more than an hour a week with you, carousing and spending every night having an orgy. He claims he is excited for his child, but he only brings you out to brag about his soon to be born son before he leaves you in Marcus’s care. You are scared, because you know how precarious a position you are in. But you can only survive.

"That's it. Take what you want from me. It's yours. I'm yours." He vows, his dark eyes watching you as you bounce on his cock. Your belly is round and heavy with his child. It's something he never imagined having again after he lost his wife. He's addicted to you and he doesn't know how he's going to leave after the baby is born.

“Marcus.” You moan, leaning back and knowing that he will make sure you are comfortable and safe. “My general, my warrior.” You have been thinking about something dangerous, but you can’t think about it when he’s deep inside you. “I love you.”

He caresses your hips, leaning in to take a sensitive nipple between his lips, and he suckles lightly. He has gotten too comfortable being away from the battles the Emperors send him into, but right now, he doesn’t want to die like that. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you at this moment, no one else but you and him. His hand slides across your hip to find your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves to push you over the edge.

Carrying his baby has made you so sensitive to his touch that it only takes a few strokes of his thumb before you cry out. Your body shaking and your hips grinding down while your cunt locks down around his cock and your juices coat him.

He hisses your name as you clamp down around him, his eyes fluttering shut for a few moments as he lets you ride your high, until he’s squeezing your hips and thrusting up into you.

“Cum for me.” You beg softly, burying your face into the side of his neck so you can breathe him in. “I want to feel you inside me. Carry you with me even more.”

He groans, rocking up into you with a hiss as he gets closer to his orgasm. “Fuck. Gonna - fuck. Shit. Empress.” He moans your name as he pushes deep inside your pulsing cunt and he falls apart, painting your walls with his seed as he clenches his eyes shut.

You hum quietly, stroking his neck as he catches his breath. Feeling the baby move slightly and biting your lip. “We need to use your favor in the Senate.” You lean close and whisper the treasonous words into his ear. “Stage a coup. Revolt.” You pull back and look into his eyes seriously. “Kill the emperors.”

Marcus inhales sharply, his head turning so he can look into your eyes to see if you are testing him or if you’re serious. When he sees your eyes, he knows you’re serious and he swallows harshly, “it won’t be easy. Trying to convince the senate without the emperors finding out.” He admits quietly, “and they could find out and kill me.”

“Set the meetings.” You had thought long and hard about it. “I will convince them, I will do the talking. If our plot is found out, Caracalla could not immediately put me to death. Geta would discover the child is not truly his and he will never allow that.” You caress his cheek. “I wish to have you installed to rule as proctor for ‘his’ child.” You know the senate could never find out that the child isn’t Caracalla’s but no one but you and Marcus know this truth besides your husband.

Marcus caresses your spine, knowing that you could risk everything you’ve created, your life, your child, it’s all on the line. “Amor…” He murmurs and you cup his cheek, “I will never be allowed to be my own person. I will never be allowed to love you freely unless you do this.” You tell him and he nods, swallowing harshly, “I’ll get it organized.” He promises, “we will see it done.”

“Thank you, my love.” You lean in and press your lips to his. “I fear for our child raised under Caracalla’s direction.” Even if you are the mother, the fact that the baby would be proclaimed the emperor’s heir would mean he would be guided by your childish and evil husband. “I want him to grow up to be like his father.”

Marcus caresses your cheek, knowing there is no choice. If he looks back, he knows that he had to make this choice at some point. He never truly wanted to let you or his child go. The next morning, he dresses for court and decides to start with the hardest senator to convince, Brutus. A man who struggled to watch the Emperors rule but had loyalty to Rome. Marcus approaches him under the guise of talk of war, and Brutus nods, wandering off into a quiet corner of the senate to speak. “I fear we cannot speak in these quarters. Come to my villa, we can speak freely.” Marcus says and Brutus nods, unaware that you will be meeting with the men.

You pace, nervous about what you should say, would say. This is the most dangerous undertaking you have ever attempted. Not even trying to run away from your fate was as dangerous as this. You are trying to change your fate. The senators could be allies, or they could stab you in the back.

Brutus enters the room with Marcus, his head held high but his eyes widen when he sees the Empress standing there, her bump protruding beneath her tunic. “Empress.” He greets you, bowing his head.

“Brutus.” You greet him cautiously, but with a gracious smile on your face as you rub the swell of your stomach, bringing his eyes down to the baby. You will leverage the child in your womb. For your freedom, and perhaps Rome’s as well. “I trust you are well?” You ask kindly. “Please sit. The wine has been especially good lately.” It’s been watered down for your use, but you nod to Marcus to pour the senator a cup. “I hope you do not mind the subterfuge, I needed to speak with you and did not wish to summon you myself.”

Marcus pours the cup of wine and hands it to Brutus who nods, thanking Marcus, before his attention turns back to you. "I trust you are well, that the future Emperor is well?" He asks, and you nod in response, "he is lively. Due any day now." You declare and Marcus clears his throat, "the heir is the reason why we called you here.”

You wait for Brutus to turn back to you curiously, setting his cup down. You take a deep breath and caress your stomach. “It is no secret that unrest in Rome is at an all time high.” You murmur softly. “People are starving and while General Acacious has not been sent off on another expensive and bloody campaign, he will be soon.” You pause and sigh. “I fear for the future of Rome, of my son’s legacy that he will inherit.”

Brutus looks at Marcus who stands there, spine straight and steely eyed as your treasonous words are aired. Brutus could go tell the Emperors and you would be killed as soon as the babe is born, Marcus would be hanged the next day. However, Brutus doesn't run off. He nods, setting his cup down, "it is true that the empire is on a precipice. It could be the fall of Rome or her glory continues. The Emperors are driven by lust and greed. Their actions are selfish and make the lowest Roman anxious for change. We will fall if we allow the Emperors to continue down this path."

“There is another solution.” You suggest, rubbing your stomach again. “In my belly lies the next emperor of Rome. Ready to be guided by wise and cautious men.” Your eyes slide over to Marcus briefly. “Men who know the true cost of war and would be able to teach our emperor those lessons without it harming Rome’s people.” You look back at Brutus. “Men such as our senators, you, nurturing a leader that will take Rome to an even greater height.”

Brutus frowns, looking over at Marcus, knowing that the man who will assist in raising the young Emperor will be him. "And how would we remove our problem?" Brutus asks, eyebrows raised. 

"I say we speak to the senators...establish a coup. My husband and brother-in-law would never see it coming." You say and Brutus takes a gulp of his wine before he says, "I will start speaking to the senators tomorrow."

“I hope that we can count on your discretion.” You add, pushing out of your seat and moving over to the senator. “We are on the cusp of change.” You murmur softly. “If it is the ruin of Rome or the brightness of her future, I leave that to your hands.”

Brutus nods, "if this gets out, it will be death for us all. We won't risk it." The senator promises and he looks over at Marcus, "you shall be the one who the senate turns to?" He asks and Marcus nods, making Brutus smile. "very well. I will do what needs to be done."

You nod to the senator when he leaves, Marcus walking out with him and you start to pace. Wondering if you have just signed your death papers or if you will be successful.

****

The senate is abuzz with chatter until Caracalla and Geta enter the chamber. The senators stand straighter and Marcus stands there, dressed in his official robes with the golden laurel wreath shining. He looks regal and the Emperors slosh wine across the marble floor as they greet the senators with wide grins. Brutus looks over at his fellow senators, his hand resting on his dagger. "Emperors." He greets them, walking towards them, and his eyes meet Marcus's for a moment. "The senate and I have been in discussions about the future of Rome." He declares and Geta hums, "and what a wonderful future it will be." 

Marcus sighs, "we aren't so sure. Romans are starving, you tax them more and more every day to fund your wars and your lavish lifestyle." Marcus declares and Caracalla spins around, his eyes narrowed at the accusations, "you dare to spit these treasonous words?" He demands and Marcus shakes his head, "you are draining Rome dry. Her empire will be no more." He says louder and the senators nod while Brutus steps forward, "your leadership has driven Rome to the edge and we want to save our empire before it falls." Brutus declares and he steps up behind Geta while Marcus moves towards Caracalla. It happens in a flash, the daggers pulled out and embedded in the lower backs of the Emperors who cry out, cups of wine falling to the floor. The other senators rush forward, daggers in their hands as they each take a turn stabbing the emperors until blood runs along the marbled floors.

Your cry from your chamber is loud and pained, servants rushing and whispering through the halls. The Hippocrates has been summoned and the labor seems to be quick. The new heir to the throne of Rome is insistent on being born today. It takes your mind off of your worries. Your waters had broken almost as soon as Marcus had left to join the senators. You know that they had planned to kill your husband and his brother today, but the pains had taken over all thoughts so you had not been able to fret over the hours as they passed. 

Blood covers the floor of the senate as Caracalla and Geta lay dead, blood pouring from their mouths. It turns out they betrayed a lot of senators, made promises they couldn’t keep. The senators didn’t take a lot of convincing to remove them from power. “It is done.” Brutus declares, “a new emperor shall be born any moment but we need someone in the interim. An emperor who will represent us, save Rome and her people from ruin. I nominate General Marcus Acacius.” Brutus declares and Marcus’s eyes widen. He didn’t expect to be nominated, feeling that Brutus would want to take control. “I second that nomination.” Drusus announces and one by one, the senate declares Marcus to be the next emperor. The General is speechless, knowing he could easily be taken down like Caracalla and Geta, but this means he gets to have you. “I accept. I will serve as Emperor for all, we will make Rome prosperous and safe.” He promises as a servant rushes in to announce, “the empress is in labor.” Marcus’s eyes widen and he rushes from the senate, running through the marbled halls in his mission to get to you. He doesn’t care that men shouldn’t be in the birthing room as he pushes through and stumbles to your bedside. “Amor. I’m here, I’m here.” He promises, blood still on his hands as he reaches for yours.

“Is it done?” You gasp out, scared for a brief moment that Marcus had been injured, but he would not have been able to come to your side if the plot had been foiled. “It is.” He murmurs, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead. You don’t even care that the servants can see, that the rumors will spread across Rome of your relationship with the General. He ignores the Hippocrates’s complaints about him being there as another pain rips through you and you scream, fingers crushing his own hand until the pain passes and you are panting for air. Your child is safe. Boy or girl, they will be free of your husband’s influence. “We need-” you gasp. “A ruler until the baby is older.” 

"The senate has voted. They have chosen me to be Emperor until the child is old enough." He confesses, "I did not want to become Emperor but I want to save Rome and her people from destitution." He admits just as another pain causes you to grip his hand.

Your hiss is low and almost animalistic, the pains feeling like you are being ripped in two, but you know that it is natural. Surprised that the senate had voted for Marcus, you can’t help but be pleased by that outcome. It would ensure that you do not have to be apart. He will have a large role in raising your child together. “The babe is coming.” The Hippocrates tells you from between your legs, frowning at Marcus as he looks down to see the head. “You must push, empress. As hard as you can.”

Marcus is suddenly taken back to the moment when his wife was laboring and after the silence that lingered in the air when the boy was born sleeping, he remembers his wife's cry of agony until she started convulsing. His grip on your hand tightens as his heart pounds, terrified that he is going to lose you in the same way.

Gritting your teeth, nodding as you sit up and start to scream as you bear down as hard as you can. Sweat is pouring off of you and for a moment, you want to give up and tell them that you cannot do it. The pressure on your hand makes you look up. Seeing the horror on Marcus’s face, you know that he is scared for you. For the baby. Closing your eyes, you push again, feeling the pressure suddenly release and hearing the Hippocrates exclaim happily, “a boy!”

Marcus is shaking when he hears the babe cry out and he knows he's alive. He looks at you, wanting to see if you are okay as the hippocrates cradles the crying baby who has a mop of black hair.

You hear the hushed whispers, but you don’t care. You don’t care if all of Rome knows that the baby that will one day be Emperor is Marcus’s. The Hippocrates cleans the baby up while the servants start to massage your stomach, making you wince in pain but it’s all forgotten when the babe is placed into your arms. Making you cry happy tears as you kiss his head softly.

Marcus stares down at the babe in your arms, his cries echoing in the room, and Marcus falls instantly in love. His son. He will never allow harm to come to the boy, and he will claim him as his. He is Emperor now, he can do as he wishes in regards to his personal life. He wishes to marry you and claim the child as his. “I love you.” Marcus declares, uncaring of anyone else in the room, and he leans in to kiss the forehead of the crying baby. “My son.” He whispers, wanting him to know how much he already adores him.

You beam as you look at Marcus and your son. The future is far brighter now that your love has done the impossible. He and the senate have toppled the emperors and restored order without needless bloodshed. “I love you too.” You promise, leaning forward and kissing him boldly. “Both of us do, my emperor.”

****

Marcus wraps his arm around your waist, the golden laurel on his head matches yours as you stand on the balcony. “Do you, Maximis Acacius, vow to dedicate your life to the Roman Empire and her people?” Brutus asks, his hair now greying like Marcus’s. “I do.” Maximus vows, his head nodding. Marcus is proud of his son who he has trained to be the emperor. He claimed him as his son after he was sworn in as emperor and the empire celebrated having a new emperor with a son to take over. Since that day, you and Marcus have had 3 more children who stand beside you, proud of their brother who is taking his rightful place.

You look out over the crowd, a smile on your face bright and proud. You have been incredibly lucky, Marcus has been a wonderful emperor. Rome has flourished under his care and now he willingly turns the reins over to Maximus like he had planned when he was born. “I love you.” You murmur as the crowd roars in celebration of the new emperor.

Marcus turns to look at you, older but no less beautiful. You are his world - you and the children. He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “I love you.” He promises, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. His entire world has changed thanks to Caracalla’s mad idea to have another man conceive the heir to Rome. In the end, Marcus is the one who won with his son as emperor and the empress as his uxor.

[merakiui]

MERA IVE BEEN HAVING THIS THOUGHT AND I THINK YOURE THE RIGHT PERSON TO SHARE IT WITH BC ITS SO PERFECT FOR THE TWEELS 😭

A long time ago, back when i was a teenager and still a wattpad girly, I read this one really good story called "Family Comes First" about a family of cannibals that lives in the middle of nowhere. They only keep boy children who are born, no daughters. Whenever a boy turns a certain age (I think 21 but I cant really rmbr), the father goes out to the nearest city, interviews girls under the guise of offering them a job, and kidnaps the best one as a birthday gift and bride. The mother-in-law teaches the new girl how to be a good wife (cleaning, cooking that strange meat, etc.), and the husband is otherwise responsible for his wife, to the point of selecting and laying out her clothing every morning. The ultimate honour is to birth a son, and so the husbands are CONSTANTLY trying to get their wives knocked up. I can't help but imagine Jade and Floyd in a story like this, it suits them perfectlyyyyy

In the book, one of the boys ended up catching feelings for brother's wife (the main character) instead of his own, and it causes fights serious drama in the family. This works so well with the recent ideas about Jade stealing Floyd's cute little wifey except it would be even better for them because they're twins and Jade can pull all his nasty tricks 😭 maybe when she finally gets knocked up with a son, they won't know who it belongs to, because he looks just like his daddy, but the potential daddies look the sammmeee OTZ

Oh oh oh and imagine if reader tries to escape and the family decides to let her try. Let her have fun. Hell, they even join in on the fun. She was blindfolded when they brought her and she's never been out of the house before, so she doesn't know her way around the woods, whereas the men in this family have been hunting humans for sport and food in these woods for generations. Now she's lost in the dark forest with daddy leech and the tweels rapidly closing in on her. She's going to be taught a lesson after they drag her home. After all, she lost the game, and losers never get rewards >_<

OHHH!!! Omg that concept is perfect for the tweels!!!! And they would absolutely draw out the chase in the forest just to scare you even more. Maybe then, after spending an entire day and night being hunted like a wild animal, you'll learn your home is with them. There's no point in running from your family, after all.

Hehe running from the three of them and you injure yourself, so now you're even more panicked because what if they can smell the cut on your leg? What if they can hear your pained grunts as you drag yourself along, limping through the forest? >_< omg and it doesn't matter who finds you; it's going to be frightening either way. Floyd who drags you out of your hiding place by the ankles, or Jade who stands over you as he patiently waits for you to take notice of him. Or Papa Leech wrapping you up in big, strong, scarred arms to carry you back to the house. Maybe you're kicking and screaming all the way, and it's useless to struggle because there's no one else out here for stretches. Just you and your family, who care so very much for you. You should be grateful! Mr. Leech's sons fight over you to be named your husband. Aren't you lucky to have the two of them? Most of all, aren't you lucky you're alive and not on their murderous menu?

AAAAAA and Papa Leech picks your clothes for you going forwards! They were far too patient and lenient with you before, far too forgiving. Now you're living under a new schedule, a fresh set of rules. Your clothes are selected for you, and your meals are prepared in advance (gone are the days in which you were given choices; each meal is healthy and has properties meant to boost your fertility). When you aren't learning to be the perfect housewife, you're getting bent over every possible surface and bred by the twins. Or if the twins can't behave, then maybe Papa Leech ought to knock you up instead........... thinking thoughts.

In conclusion, the entire family is crazy and you're stuck with them forever. orz

[duckprintspress]

Yeehaw! Queer Western Book Recs!

What’s the occasion? There is no occasion! We just thought it’d be fun to make a list of queer cowboy/girl/enby books and westerns! Say “Howdy, pardner” to our 8 picks. The contributors to this list are: Shadaras, Meera S., hullosweetpea, Nina Waters, boneturtle, and two anonymous contributors.

American Hippo (River of Teeth series) by Sarah Gailey

Years ago, in an America that never was, the United States government introduced herds of hippos to the marshlands of Louisiana to be bred and slaughtered as an alternative meat source. This plan failed to take into account some key facts about hippos: they are savage, they are fast, and their jaws can snap a man in two. 

By the 1890s, the vast bayou that was once America’s greatest waterway belongs to feral hippos, and Winslow Houndstooth has been contracted to take it back. To do so, he will gather a crew of the damnedest cons, outlaws, and assassins to ever ride a hippo. American Hippo is the story of their fortunes, their failures, and his revenge.

Done and Dusted (Rebel Blue Ranch series) by Lyla Sage

She’s off-limits, but he’s never been good at following the rules.

For the first time in her life, Clementine “Emmy” Ryder has no idea what she’s doing. She’s accomplished everything on her to-do list. She left her small hometown of Meadowlark, Wyoming; went to college; and made a career for herself by doing her favorite thing: riding horses. But after an accident makes it impossible for her to get back into the saddle, she has no choice but to return to the hometown she always wanted to escape.

Luke Brooks is Meadowlark’s most notorious bad boy, bar owner, and bachelor. He’s also the unofficial fifth member of the Ryder family. As Emmy’s older brother’s best friend, Luke spent most of his childhood antagonizing her. It’s been years since he’s seen her, but when she walks into his bar and back into his life, he can’t take his eyes off her. Despite his better judgment, he wants to do a whole lot more than just look at her.

Emmy’s got too much on her mind to think about romance. And Luke knows he should stay away from his best friend’s younger sister. But what if Luke is just what Emmy needs to get her spark back? Or will they both go up in flames?

Outlawed by Anna North

The day of her wedding, 17 year old Ada’s life looks good; she loves her husband, and she loves working as an apprentice to her mother, a respected midwife. But after a year of marriage and no pregnancy, in a town where barren women are routinely hanged as witches, her survival depends on leaving behind everything she knows.

She joins up with the notorious Hole in the Wall Gang, a band of outlaws led by a preacher-turned-robber known to all as the Kid. Charismatic, grandiose, and mercurial, the Kid is determined to create a safe haven for outcast women. But to make this dream a reality, the Gang hatches a treacherous plan that may get them all killed. And Ada must decide whether she’s willing to risk her life for the possibility of a new kind of future for them all.

Prize Money by Celeste Castro

Eva is saved from impending disaster by a tall, dark, and handsome bullfighter–a woman. Toma Rozene is an equestrian stuntwoman fresh off the set of a blockbuster film when a family emergency calls her home to help run the family business: rescuing fallen rodeo riders before blustering bulls and bucking broncos trample their dreams. Eva and Toma’s shared passions and competitive spirits make friendship easy, but, as their feelings deepen, they must decide if the divergent futures they seek will stand in the way of love.

Wake of Vultures (The Shadow series) by Lila Bowen

Nettie Lonesome lives in a land of hard people and hard ground dusted with sand. She’s a half-breed who dresses like a boy, raised by folks who don’t call her a slave but use her like one. She knows of nothing else. That is, until the day a stranger attacks her. When nothing, not even a sickle to the eye can stop him, Nettie stabs him through the heart with a chunk of wood and he turns to black sand.

And just like that, Nettie can see.

But her newfound sight is a blessing and a curse. Even if she doesn’t understand what’s under her own skin, she can sense what everyone else is hiding—at least physically. The world is full of evil, and now she knows the source of all the sand in the desert. Haunted by the spirits, Nettie has no choice but to set out on a quest that might lead her to find her true kin . . . if the monsters along the way don’t kill her first.

Trigun: Deep Space Planet Future Gun Action!! by Yasuhiro Nightow

Somehow the past has placed a sixty billion double dollar bounty on Vash’s head, and the gunslinging pacifist can’t seem to get away from money grubbing, itchy-trigger-finger citizenry. Find out why Vash is worth so much money dead! Feel the clumsy worry of the unfortunate citizens of the pulverous planet! Follow the follies of an unlikely hero in a forbidding world! Join Vash the Stampede – with his troubled past and an uncanny ability to dodge a gazillion bullets – and a cavalcade of unlucky characters on a dusty, desert planet in the distant future.

Frontera by Julio Anta

As long as he remembers to stay smart and keep his eyes open, Mateo knows that he can survive the trek across the Sonoran Desert that will take him from Mexico to the United States. That is until he’s caught by the Border Patrol only moments after sneaking across the fence in the dead of night.

Escaping their clutches comes at a price, and lost in the desert without a guide or water, Mateo is ill-prepared for the unforgiving heat that is sure to arrive come sunrise. With the odds stacked against him, his one chance at survival may be putting his trust in something, or rather someone, that he isn’t even sure exists.

If you’d asked him if ghosts were real before he found himself face-to-face with one, Mateo wouldn’t have even considered it. But now, confronted with the nearly undeniable presence of Guillermo, he’s having second thoughts. Having spent his afterlife guiding migrants to safety, Guillermo knows things about the Sonoran Desert far beyond what could be explained by a mere hallucination. But even as Mateo forms an uneasy partnership with Guillermo, survival is still uncertain.

The Sonoran Desert, with its hostile temperatures and inhabitants, is teeming with danger as the Border Patrol, rogue militias, and animals prowl its deadly terrain. As his journey stretches on, Mateo will have to decide exactly what and who he’s willing to sacrifice to find home.

Bitter Springs by Laura Stone

In 1870s Texas, Renaldo Valle Santos, the youngest son of a large and traditional family, has been sent to train with Henry “Hank” Burnett, a freed slave and talented mesteñero—or horse-catcher—so he may continue the family horse trade. Bitter Springs is a sweeping epic that takes themes from traditional Mexican literature and Old Westerns to tell the story of a man coming into his own and realizing his destiny lies in the wild open spaces with the man who loves him, far from expectations of society.

Bonus Recs:

Caravan by Whisperforge – audiodrama

First rule of Wound Canyon: No one who gets in, ever gets out. So when a brilliant, ghostly specter flies through the sky amid the rain and lightning, Samir stumbles off a steep cliff and into a hidden world, one in which demons, vampires, and all other manner of paranormal creatures take sanctuary. 

Second rule of Wound Canyon: No one makes it alone. Samir’s decided to tag along with Argeaux’s Caravan, a band of supernatural bounty hunters and vigilante peace-keepers. Together with an ever-expanding train of fantastical tagalongs, Samir and his new friends venture deep into the bowels of the canyon to find a way out of the magical boundary that imprisons all who cross it.

Cowboy Bebop – tv series

A ragtag crew of bounty hunters chases down the galaxy’s most dangerous criminals. They’ll save the world – for the right price.

What are your favorite gay cowboy books?

Want to chat your favorite reads with us? Join our Book Lover’s Discord server!

Love reading queer books? Our Queer Book Challenge is running on Storygraph through the end of 2024. Come join us!

[unavernales]

9. “Let me tie you up baby.” taemin X alena

this is an old ass meme don't look at me

it's the first time in a long time that nym and their mate have had time alone. ever since the birth of their daughter, alena has been busy with rearing and establishing familial connection. the nymph had feared that their child would be hindered in some way, being a hybrid, but she was anything but. alena would (happily, proudly) admit that she was the spitting image of her father. curious and brave like alena. clingy like taemin. she chirped well, and didn't seem to react strangely to touch, though the extent of her abilities would only be revealed with time, the pair figured.

maehwa was half of alena's heart. the other half was her father (and alena's husband, forever mate, etc), of course.

however, all parents needed a break. it's difficult for alena to part with her, but they know that taehyun is the safest place for her to be (aside from with her parents). plus, watching her coo and furrow her brow as she looks from taehyun to taemin was, quite possibly, the cutest thing ever. it takes everything in alena not to pick up the phone every hour and call their brother in-law to chirp to their daughter.

perhaps that's why taemin has made sure alena can hardly think straight. it began as soon as they were back to their empty cottage. against the door, on the couch, against the wall, on the floor, it seemed like getting to the bed was an impossible task. taemin spent what felt like hours between alena's thighs, making them come until they shook and hiccuped violently.

it's good. so good. beyond good.

they haven't been able to have sex since the tail end of alena's second trimester. every fiber of the nymph's being has missed taking their mate. they're almost comedically responsive, every touch setting them alight and every orgasm devastating. it's like their first time again and again and again. when taemin finally gets his cock in them, alena nearly wails, squirting an obscene amount from just the sensation of being stretched and filled by their forever mate. alena never wants it to end. wants to get knocked up again and again and again and be properly bred. their instincts are harsh, wired, and it makes them ride taemin til they're chirping and trilling pathetically.

when taemin asks, alena nods and whines. "inside? inside?" they spread their legs enticingly, attempts to get taemin back where he belongs. "anything, oppa. please-- need it inside--"

[mr007pennyworth]

'Well someone has to look after you' Headcanon Alf x Gareth

If anyone on that base could tell you anything without hesitation it was that Alfred would always be the safest port of call should something go wrong. While Sanderson was strict and most likely to dole out punishment, McGregor wasn't below ripping you a new one and making sure the whole campus knew about it too.

Alfred was protective. Stubbornly so that he'd happily call the higher up's just to make the point that he got his way should the need arise.

But this meant that as much as he spent time trying to keep 480 men as comfortable as possible day in and day out, he didn't always look after himself. Cue, the arrival of Gareth.

_____________________________________________________________

Friends, Brothers, Boyfriends, Husbands, you name it they've been called everything under the sun. But the first time Alfred laid eyes on Gareth something about Army life became, fun.

Love at first sight? Call it what you will but Alfred never looked at another person the same way and even McGregor could see that the old dog had seemingly changed his tune on retiring.

Gareth was as per expectations from their first meeting, hot headed and as much as he seemed shy in places knew when to bear his teeth. That spark had Alfred's attention in seconds. Alfred only became aware his actions around the young lieutenant had become a bit much when some of the men began to mutter about 'Major's pet'

Okay so maybe he didn't need to walk Gareth to his station every day, check in his bunk every night...walk around the yard at lunch as if guarding him.

He said to McGregor he was simplifying keeping 'the puppy under control' but even Alistair laughed that off...'You love that lil mutt' dont think I anit seen the way you treat him alf'

When Alfred didn't turn in for meals at the mess for three days in a row, Gareth began to bring it to him, breakfast, lunch and dinner were eaten in the Lt Colonels cabin.

"You didn't have to pup"

"Yeah well, I'd rather not listen to Sanderson moaning in a crowded mess hall if I can sit where it's warmer and quieter with you"

When Alfred turned up one afternoon with all of Gareth's clothes washed and pressed, boots polished and his favourite chocolate on top, Gareth found he was getting favours no one had ever seen. When he mentioned it Alfred just laughed and ruffled his hair as he walked away.

"Well someone has to look after you, its no chore if it keeps you out of scraps"

Alfred returns to a tidied desk, briefing notes all in order, medical bay notes filed alphabetically, all the clothes he'd left lying around clean and hung away on the rack not to mention his lunch on the desk with the coffee still hot.

The only mention of who'd been there was a post-it note saying

'Well someone has to look after you too"

Now it was known for Captains to bunk with their Majors, Alfred being the exception since he hadn't chosen one to differ to, he simply handed the commands to the other two Hunter and Doleski and let them share the load between the other Captains during the day.

McGregor didn't like this plan but he too didn't think any of the few Captains would have the gall to be upgraded to Alfred's second in command, with Alfred in the acting role of Lt Colonel it was likely to cause problems with men fighting to be top dog. So when Gareth was taken from the bunkers by Hunter and sent to sleep in the Lt Colonel's Quarters it wasn't because he was in trouble like many seemed to think.

Alfred had chosen Gareth to play Captain long before he'd been promoted and even Sanderson knew why. Alfred needed loyalty and he needed someone to watch his back, as the best shooter in the yard and the most obedient 'puppy' in the squad Gareth was always on the run somewhere or other playing errand boy rather than actually getting his hands dirty on duty. He was being 'being pampered like a well-bred retriever' according to some. He got private training, a bigger bed, a private shower and hot meals on demand. This caused a few men to question Alfred's authority.

Sanderson: 'Why isn't Mallory in here?"

Hunter: "He's Beagle's puppy, you know he only goes where the Major wants"

Sanderon: "That's Acting Lt Colonel to you, Captain Hunter"

Hunter: "Come off it Jack you know you don't credit him like that"

Sanderson: "Credit or not, I'd rather not have you cause the Brigader down here for insubordination at refusing his orders, Beagle is where he is, you'll all have to accept it, if you value your job and your life do not, I repeat DO NOT touch Mallory is that understood..."

Hunter: "and what about you?"

Sanderson: "If he causes trouble I'll deal with it, he's well guarded but...Alf will see soon enough that upstart isn't good enough for him"

Hunter: "of course...sir"

Sanderson: "He was meant to choose me or Captain Bridgewater, god knows why he picks the fucking Lieutenant, kids not out of diapers yet!"

Hunter: "You sir? I thought Majors weren't-"

Sanderson: "He's acting Lt Colonel he can choose a Major to be second in command-"

Hunter: "Second in his bed you mean"

Sanderson: "Oh shut up"

________________________________________________________

[bluerosejuliet]

Philoise Season 5 AU Idea

So I’ve seen a lot of people complaining about how boring Phillip is and how he doesn’t suit with how Eloise is in the show. And we know how the writers like to change things up from the books to so that the plot works better on screen. I was also inspired to write this after reading so many of the posts made by @thekatebridgerton. So here is my attempt to write Season 5 in a way that will appeal with the modern audience and the lovers of the books. I was also inspired from watching season 2 of Sandition and the recent film of Little Women.

First off, let’s just say Marina passed away at the start of season 4. Phillip is now left to look after two very young children (possibly around four or five years old). He’s also being forced into London for the season when he would rather be back in the country with his plants. But he knows that his children need a mother to help raise them and the season is his best chance of finding one. The trouble is his last governess just up and quit and he needs someone to help look after the children. So he writes his late wife’s cousin: Penelope Bridgerton. 

Enter Eloise. At this point Eloise is in her fourth season with no husband and her two best friends, Sophie and Penelope are now married. What worse is that they were both stolen away by her idiotic brothers. She’d be probably be more upset if it wasn’t for the fact both her brothers are absolutely besotted with their wives (though she’s more forgiving to Benedict than Colin as Benedict is her favorite brother). Sophie is now happily living in the country with Benedict and currently expecting their first child while Penelope is currently doting on her lovely daughter Agatha (Eloise was a bit relieved to find her godchild was a girl. There are enough boys already). And while she is able to tolerate being around babies a bit more, that doesn’t mean she’s tempted to find a husband and be wed and bred any time soon. While avoiding her mother’s attempt at throwing every eligible young bachelor her way and trying to ignore her feelings of loneliness, she’s been trying to find ways to be more independent. Mainly she thinks of ways she can earn her own income to live on her own. But given that she is a woman and a Bridgerton at that, this is one of the few doors that are closed to her. 

As she’s bemoaning her prospects to Penelope on day while at tea at her and Colin’s place Agatha starts fussing and Penelope goes to put her down for a nap. As she leaves, a letter falls to the floor and Eloise goes to pick it up and ends up reading it. And that’s when she gets a brilliant idea. When Penelope comes back in, Eloise casually mentions the letter and tells Penelope she knows someone who would be perfect for the job. Relieved, Penelope write to Phillip and arranges a time for him to be interview them. What Eloise doesn’t tell Penelope is that she will be the one applying for the governess position under a different name. This way she can earn a bit of money and at least the children are old enough to walk and talk. Besides she grew up with Gregory and Hyacinth so how bad can Sir Phillip’s children be?

The answer is very. She gets pranked by Amanda and Oliver right from the get go and Phillip is so desperate to hire someone that he doesn’t even ask for any references and offers to double her pay if she’ll look after the children for the season. Eloise agrees. 

She then makes the excuse of visiting Francesca in Scotland since her sister is in mourning but writes a letter to Francesca to say she’ll be staying with Benedict and Sophie for the season to keep their new sister in law company during her confinement. What’s even better is that the family will mostly be staying at Aubrey Hall for the season due to all the expecting women and newborns so she won’t have to worry about running into her family in town. 

While watching over Amanda and Oliver she also takes notice of Sir Phillip’s poor attempts at wooing the young ladies of the ton. Taking pity on the poor man, she offers to teach him the art of wooing a woman of the ton. Through their lessons though, her disdain for the ton slips through and the two end up having conversations about both their interests and get to know each other a bit more, bonding over shared childhood trauma.

She also starts to get to know the twins more and genuinely cares about them. Eloise also realizes that what they need isn’t a mother but their father’s attention. 

This comes to a head in an argument between Eloise and Phillip in his study one night and ends up with two kissing for the first time. 

Both of them freak out afterwards, Phillip over the fact he kissed his governess and feels like he took advantage over her while Eloise feels guilty about the fact she’s been lying to Phillip about who she is. Neither gets much sleep that night.

Things continue to build up between the two, Eloise trying to hide her jealousy of seeing Phillip with other women while Phillip battles over his feelings for this brilliant chestnut haired woman. Of course the twins have already realized that the two are perfect for each other and are trying to get the two together. 

It all comes to a head however when Eloise’s brothers find out about their sister lying to them and figure out where she is. Phillip gets punched and the truth comes out with Eloise leaving in tears with her brothers while Phillip is furious over the fact that she’d been lying to him all this time. 

Meanwhile, Violet realizes her daughter has done the impossible: she’s let herself fall in love. Thus Violet does some plotting of her own.

After returning to Audrey Hall, Eloise is surprised when Kate announces that she’s invited Sir Phillip and his family to join them for their annual ball and spend a week in the country with them. Eloise and Phillip start to slowly reconcile but Eloise is still adamant on maintaining her freedom. 

Towards the end of their visit, the two still haven’t made much headway in their relationship and discover the day before Phillip is supposed to leave that the twins have gone missing during a storm. Frantic the two search for them and end up finding them. Later that night, Eloise finds Phillip in the garden and the two talk and end up doing it there in the garden. Phillip tells Eloise he loves her during this but she doesn’t say it back. Like Kate, she leaves him after and he leaves dejected the next morning with the twins. 

Benedict asks why she let him leave when she clearly loves him and those kids so why doesn’t she marry him. She admits her fears of losing her independence and not wanting to have kids.

“Do you really think that man who just left would make you do anything you wouldn’t want to do?”

Eloise realizes he’s right and comes up with a plan of her own. 

A few days later Phillip is sitting in the library of Duchess of Hastings house, having needed to escape and wallow for a bit when the woman he’s been dreaming about since they first kissed enters and hands him a contract.

“It has come to my attention that you are in need of a wife. I’d like to apply for the position. I should warn you though that I am absolutely brilliant and not the easiest woman to be married to. I like my independence but I just can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you or the twins in it. I love you Phillip, so please marry me.” 

The two kiss and then it cuts to months later where Eloise plans on opening a school for women to learn in London. 

This is just my pitch for Eloise’s season. I do think she will be the one to propose and possibly steal off to Gretna Green with Phillip and the kids. I don’t see show Eloise having kids of her own but she would care for Amanda and Oliver as if they were hers. I hope I’ve done this couple justice. 

[syrma-sensei]

Hiii 👋 i hope you're doing well 🖤

I read your drabble about the one where y/n is nile's sister and omygod that was sooo good 🥺😍

Anyhow, is it ok to request about y/n getting jealous of marie hahahahhahahaha

Love you and stay hydrated ~

Well, I'm thirsty for Daddy 😩 But other than that I'm good thanks for asking, dear ❤️

I honestly didn't expect people to like it, I'm really surprised! Thank you for this ask, darling, I'm really into writing jealous reader with our big dilf 🤭

Let's do this!

Oh, but first, in case you haven't read part one, so you can understand what's happening here.

→ Family Complications part 2

pairing: Erwin Smith x fem!reader

setting: modern world

taglist: @mrsackxrman @koulakoukoula2003 @hopeless-daydream3r @vienna-fae @sinnerofthewalls @killerbananas @antoxsmith @galactict3a @peachysunrize @dassmyname @im-a-killer-queen

tell me if you wanna be added to my Erwin taglist 😉

Marriage life was nothing like you had expected, but with your husband by your side, nothing hindered you back.

Erwin had proposed to you two years after that day, and certainly, you couldn't find a better husband for yourself, and your brother, couldn't be happier to lead his baby sister down the aisle to her elegant groom. Nile burst out crying that day.

You spent two weeks abroad as a honeymoon, given that your husband's recent promotions at work gave him more responsibilities and he couldn't be away for too long.

They were the best two weeks in your entire life, nevertheless.

Whenever you remembered the naughty stuff you and your new husband did, it brought a giddy smile on your face. You loved Erwin's childish side, and the mischievous glint that would usually flash within his eyes whenever he hinted at something naughty to you.

Erwin was a generous lover; he showered you with affectations and attention, and never left you starved for him, well, unless he did it on purpose because he'd had delicious stuff stored for you.

You were now nine months pregnant with your first child, and you could remember pretty lucidly the day you two sowed your baby's seed.

You could still feel his touches from that night, his kisses and lips against your skin. His intense gaze when he held yours before becoming one. His grumbles and grunts of your name as he bred you, and the way you clung onto him as desperately as your received his hot seed.

It was beautiful.

You were now sitting in the passenger's seat beside Erwin, while he drove to your middle niece's birthday.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes, one of his arms was resting on the window, and the other one was holding the wheel. His sleeves were rolled up, and eyes concentrated on the road.

“Is everything alright, darling?” He asked, without shifting his eyes off of the route.

“No, nothing at all,” You shook your head, “I'm just wondering if Anna would like her presents,”

He chuckled heartily, “Of course, she is going to love them, sweetheart,” He caught your hand and brought it to his lips. “Don't worry about such thing,”

You shivered at the kiss, nodding before turning your attention to the window.

Of course you didn't worry about such matter, you knew all of your nieces too well, even better than their own parents, you practically raised the three girls. But there was other thing that had kept on nagging you for a month now, and no matter the effort you put to brush those nasty thoughts away, you couldn't.

You couldn't but think about the overly displayed emotions between your husband and sister-in-law recently.

You had caught him multiple times speaking with Marie alone, and whenever you stepped in, they'd act awkward in front of you, and that alone was suspicious to you.

It wasn't possible, Erwin was yours, your fucking husband, and Marie was your stupid brother's wife. It couldn't be. You knew they weren't heartless enough to break yours and Nile's hearts, and ruin two families, were they?

You didn't want to be suspicious of them, but they weren't helping you, as a matter of fact, they weren't even cautious about it, and that confused you gravely.

You tried to prevent facing Marie, your brother even, just to not alert those disturbing thoughts. But now, you had to, since you can't skip your dear niece's birthday, even if you were tired and worn-out of pregnancy and being on your last month before going into labour.

You felt the car haul to a stop, and Erwin pressed on the windows buttons as they started to roll up. He grabbed his jacket from the seat behind, rolling his sleeves down again before getting out of the car. And as the gentleman he was, he rounded the vehicle to open your door, extending his hand out for you, once out he led you to Nile's door before returning to the car to fetch the presents you two brought.

After ringing the bell, the door opened, and you petrified, Marie was the one to answer.

“Heeey, (Y/N)!” She gushed before hugging you. “We missed you, how have you been?!”

You stood in your spot, flinched in her hold, as you responded awkwardly, “I'm fine, I'm totally fine,”

Marie giggled, brushing your swollen belly with a gentle hand, “How's the little guy here? Is he giving you hard time?”

“Yeah, sometimes he grows feisty,” You giggled too.

“Yeah, happens a lot as they tend to turn upside down inside their mommies' bellies.”

“Yeah, I guess,”

“Auntiiiiiiiie!” You heard little Anna shriek, and soon enough you found her hugging your legs, a beautiful crown decorating her head.

“I thought you wouldn't come to my birthday party, auntie!” She gazed up at you with a pout.

You giggled amusedly, gasping dramatically, “Me?! How can I miss my dear Anna's birthday?!”

The little girl chortled breathlessly, then shrieked again, “Yay! Uncle Erwin's here too!”

She dropped her hold of you immediately and jumped onto Erwin, and the latter was fast to catch her in one arm, while holding the presents in the other.

“Hey, sweet Anna,” He kissed her cheek tenderly, “Were you a good girl this year?”

She covered her mouth with her hands, laughing, “It's not Christmas, Uncle Erwin!”

He guffawed lightly, “Is that right? Maybe Santa's visiting you earlier this year,” Erwin handed little Anna her present and she squeled.

You snorted at your cheesey husband, making bad dad jokes already. But he did look like a father holding his daughter, and it made your heart flutter. He was going to be a great father to your son, you were sure of it.

“Hello there, Marie,” Erwin said, and before you knew it, you saw him kissing Marie on the cheek.

“Hello, Erwin,” She blushed a bit.

Okay, what the fuck was that?!

“Hey, (Y/N), Erwin, there you are,” Your brother came, Abbie in his arms, “Everyone is waiting for you,”

The party was good, and Marie's cooking was better. Everyone was there, Mike and his wife Nanaba, Hange and their husband Moblit, and even Levi was there. You didn't know why, but Levi was the girls' favourite although he always called them: shrieking brats.

When the feast was over you offered your help, but everyone chidded you for that, and insisted on you to just rest.

The little girls and their friends pleaded Levi to have a tea party with them, and to everyone's surprise, he said, “Tch, okay, who can drink the tea raw, I'll give them a ride on my back,” And there was more shrieking, and Moblit had to tie up his partner to not participate in that party, Hange was more excited than the little girls.

“So, how is it to keep a living thing inside of you for nine months, (Y/N)?” Nanaba asked you as she was in her husband's hold.

You chuckled, “Well, a lot of peeing and crying for no reason,”

Mike snorted a bit, but Nanaba nudged him.

“But Erwin is here for me, for us, I couldn't do it without him,”

Nanaba smiled, locking her hand with Mike's, “Yeah, that's the point of marrying them in first place, no?”

You chuckled.

“Erwin's been working his ass off lately, ya know,” Mike grumbled, “And whenever I tell him to get his ass a break, he always says I'm not doing this for me, I'm doing it for (Y/N) and our baby,”

A sheepish smiled cracked your mouth, and you felt yourself flush. Your heart grew rapid.

A mix of feelings swelling at the tip of your stomach. And here you dared to suspect him for betrayal? How could you forget those nights, those very late nights when he went back home drained and tired, and no matter how you begged him to take a break, he'd just smile at you and kiss you, telling you how much he loved you.

Fuck, you were an idiot, an utter idiot to even have qualms about him and your sister-in-law, Marie would never cheat on Nile. Never. God, she'd dumped Erwin for him!

You excused yourself, standing up while holding your heavy tummy with your arms, looking for your husband. You wanted to do something, to tell Erwin how much you loved him, how much you were excited to begin another chapter of your lives, to be a parent with him.

But your giddy strides came to a haul when you crossed by the kitchen's door, where Marie was supposed to be. You heard Erwin's voice.

“I'm forever grateful to you, Marie,” His voice was gentle, and caring it made your heart tug, “Without you, I couldn't have had it, this new opportunity, this life, thank you,”

You were indeed stupid, tears rolled down your cheeks, as you stepped in the kitchen, your heart broke when you saw Erwin kissing Marie's forehead so softly, almost close to the softness he'd kiss you with.

“How dare you,” You hissed through clenched teeth.

Erwin's head whipped towards you, eyes wide at your messed up face, “Darling, are you alrigh—”

“Don't touch me!” You cried, slapping his hand off of you, “You fucking bastard, under my brother's roof?!”

Erwin's eyebrows went up, but Marie was fast to retort, “(Y/N), wait, there's a clear misunderstanding,”

“Hey, (Y/N), what's going on?” Your brother's voice chimed in.

“I don't know, ask your wife!”

Nile looked at Marie with questioning look, “What happened, M—”

A loud shout teared out of your throat, turning the attention back to you, even Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, and Hange rushed to the kitchen.

Erwin was fast to catch you as you dropped on the floor.

“Darling, are you alright?!”

“F-Fuck... fuck you!” You gasped, “Th-the baby's coming!”

As if on cue, Erwin saw the baby's water seeping out of your womb.

“Bloody hell!” Mike cursed under his breath.

“What are you waiting for?!” Hange remarked rather thrilled, “All of you to the car. Now. I'll be driving,”

Erwin nodded, carrying you in his arms and darting outside, and everyone was on his heels.

“No, you won't,” Moblit stopped Hange, “You're gonna stay here, looking after those kids with Levi,” He plucked the car keys from their hand, and kissed their cheek, “See you later, love,”

“Honestly, you're no fun,” Hange crossed their arms to their chest, shouting at their husband as he was already in driver's seat, “Wanna see a baby getting outta his mom's vagina!”

“Uncle Lee,” Little Anna said, “What is a vagina,”

Hange turned their head, and saw Levi, and God was he angry.

“Okay, what the hell happened, Hange?”

Back in Hange and Moblit's car, you were holding onto Erwin's hand, crushing it with pressure.

“Yes, just breathe in and out, you can do it, (Y/N), you can do it,”

“Fuck you!” You spat, sweat shimmering down your temples, as a huge pressure cramping your womb.

“Could anyone tell me what the hell's happening?” Nile said.

“Your sister's giving birth, obviously,” Mike sassed.

“Shut up!” He nudged his friend, turning to the other, “What hell you did, Erwin?”

The latter grumbled exasperatedly, it was the first time for him to attend such a thing, and it was his freaking son at this point, “I don't think it's the perfect timing to—”

You gasped again, “No, tell him you fucking bastard, tell him about you and Marie!” You glared through tears at the latter.

“What?!”

Mike and Nanaba chuckled, enjoying this too much.

“Don't look at me like that, Nile!” Marie said hotly. “I helped Erwin to be with (Y/N) back in the day,”

“WHAT?!” You and your brother exclaimed together.

“As you heard, darling,” Erwin kissed your hand, “You have Marie to thank for that,”

“Okay I'm super confused now,” Nile pinched the bridge of his nose.

You gulped, hissing through your gritted teeth, “So am I, bro, so am I — FUCK!” You punched your husband in the face. “What have you put in me?! A horse?! God!” You squawked in pain again.

Erwin laughed through his tears, “It's okay, love, it's okay, I'm here with you,”

You leant into your husband's chest, as the pain growing intense in your lower body, “You fucking, utter bastard!” You felt your back breaking, “I'd never do this again!” Your head snapped backwards, and you went out of consciousness.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Darling answer me!” Erwin freaked out.

Everyone tried to help you, while poor Moblit was thanking God within himself, that he made the right call to never let Hange come along.

•••

Your eyes fluttered open, and your head turned immediately to the side where Erwin sat in a chair, holding your baby delicately in his arms.

“Hey there,” Your voice was hoarse from all the screaming, and your body was absolutely ruined. It fucking sucked, what on Earth came into you to have a baby? But the sight before you made you swoon.

“Hey,” Erwin smiled, hardly detaching his gaze from your baby to look at you.

“Let me see him,”

He chuckled, “Of course, love,” He stood up, then leaned down to you, and you sat up eagerly, you almost snatched the little creature from his father's hold.

“Awwww, aren't you the prettiest thing?!” You exclaimed ardently.

Your son was the spitting image of his father; wipsy, golden locks, sharp and blue eyes, and most importantly, thick and beautiful eyebrows decorating his cute face.

Your son cooed.

“You did well, my love,” You heared Erwin say, proud swelling in his voice. “You were amazing,”

He kissed your forehead, and you cried.

“I'm so sorry, Erwin,” You wept, “I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened to me, I said terrible things to you and Marie... I-I...”

“Shhhh,” Erwin put a tender finger on your lips, “None of that matters,” He cupped your cheek ever so gently, “This what matters now,”

You smilled through your tears, and leaned in and kissed the pad of his large palm.

“I love you, Erwin,”

The latter grinned, “I love you too, (Y/N), there's no word can describe how happy you make me,”

The two of you looked at eachother, and when you decide to kiss the hospital room flung open, and Hange burst in.

“Show him to me! Show him to me! Show him to me!” They practically jumped in beside your bed, and the others came on their heels.

“Hey, sis”

“Auntie!”

“Tch, you're already noisy, they're gonna kick us out!”

“Hey, (Y/N),”

“Congratulations!”

You heard hange sulking, “He's nothing like you, (Y/N)! I mean he's the cutest thing I've ever seen, but one Erwin is enough already!”

Everyone burst out laughing, but Erwin squinted.

Everyone was eager to see the little new baby, the newest addition to the family. And your nieces started to cry that they have a tiny little cousin and auntie (Y/N) would be busy with him now, but you said that he too needed older sisters to look after him too, and as always, they shrieked excitedly, and Levi rolled his eyes.

The latter was curious, and you let him carry the baby, his eyes were cold, but once his tiny fingers wrapped around Levi's thumb, he found himself blushing.

And Marie, God, you almost forgot how many times you ranted "I'm sorry" to her but she just shrugged it off, and told you it was okay, and she wasn't offended at all, for she was pregnant, for three times, and she knew how a woman could be extremely sensitive at that sort of times.

Your mouth was tired out of smiling so widely, but you couldn't help it, you had your big, loving family around you, and now you bestowed it with another member.

Mike cleared his throat, while Nanaba's arm tugged in his, “Nana and I have something to tell you too,”

Everyone's attention was on her, and she grew anxious. Mike patted his hand and nodded at her softly.

Nanaba mustered some courage and muttered, “We're expecting too,” And she turned into a red tomato.

“No kidding!” Hange exclaimed, “When your due comes, I'll be the one driving,”

Everyone burst into laughter again.

You leant into your husband's shoulder, watching everyone chatting and smiling.

“Thank you, Erwin,” You whispered.

Yes, you fought, cried, laughed, and had your many complications as a family, but you were forever grateful for him and the family around you.

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Bachelor

A birthday gift for @bellafarallones. Part 3 of the TAZ Amnesty Bachelor AU (sternclay and indruck were the first two) AKA what Vincent was up to. Apollo is from my Amnesty Super Hero fic

The entire United States to choose from and this is the best the producers could find? He’s going to win this thing with his eyes closed. Then it’s a hop, skip, and jump to some endorsement deals, his own spin-off, and then a prime time hosting slot. 

Oh, and a marriage. But that should be easy; any guy would count themselves lucky to have him.

God, that pool will be great for Instagram shots. Luckily the producers knew their biggest draw when they saw him and agreed to let Indrid continue his work as Apollo’s personal photographer and assistant. He may be a disappointment to the Cold name, but he’s good with a camera and has no interest in being recorded for the show. And if, god forbid, Apollo comes down with a cold during filming, someone will be there to bring him Day-Quil. After all, if he lets anyone see Apollo in a vulnerable state, Apollo will just have to send their father an email about Indrid’s latest failure. 

“It’s times like this we should be grateful for our genes. I know I am.” He glances at his twin, pausing his gaze on his silver hair and tattoos.

“You dye yours too. And I think there are more than a few handsome men here, so don’t get cocky.” His attention shifts for a moment as a man dressed like Smokey the Bear passes them.

“Oh come on, even with those pretentious glasses you can see I’m a cut above.”

“If you say so. And if you want to do shots of you in your suit, we need to start soon, so kindly find your room so we can get on with it.”

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

Not only is this easy, it’s fun. The cameras love him, and most of his fellow contestants yield to him after one remark. He’s been watching Vincent, the bachelor for this season, closely during group interactions, and it’s clear he’s already developing favorites. Annoyingly, two in particular--Joseph and Duck--are more inclined to push back at him. But it doesn’t matter; everyone has weaknesses. He’ll find theirs soon. 

Tonight is his first formal date with Vincent. They’re at an Italian place with good lighting, and Vincent is perfectly nice to look at in his lavender dress shirt and silver tie. Apollo’s done his research; Vincent is ten years his senior, took an early retirement from a position in the department of defense and now runs two consulting businesses; one for banks and museums and one for domestic violence shelters, health clinics, and other places where doing good draws enemies. The first business subsidizes the second. Vincent enjoys tennis and running, has no Instagram presence, and is an only child. 

Apollo has his plan of attack; the trouble is, Vincent isn’t interested in sitting there and being flattered (though he does blush when Apollo says the tie makes the grey in his hair look all the more distinguished). He wants to know about Apollo. 

“When you’re not taking photos, what do you like to do?”

He doesn’t correct him about who takes the pictures, smiles, “I, ah, I go to the gym.”

“I have to say it shows.” Vincent winks. It’s so corny, but Apollo can’t find it in him to hate it, “any sports, or just things like weights and cardio?”

‘

“No, but I played football in high school. I was star running back.”

“I played my freshman year, but baseball suited me better. So when you're not ‘pumping iron’, what do you do for fun?”

There is no answer that won’t make him look too shallow or too...no, he can’t even think about that option. Damn it, he must have a normal hobby. He hedges with the truth and hopes the editors cut it for time. 

“I like movies. I, ah, I’ve been working my way through the Criterion Collection of the birth of cinema  and it’s fascinating. Did you know there was a silent film heartthrob who predates Valentino?”

“Sessue Hayakawa?” 

“You know about him?” He leans forward.

“I read a biography of him last year that was riveting. I still have it if you’d like to borrow it.”

“Yes, yes absolutely. We, we could even watch some of his films together, and the ones they inspired, you know they, they…” 

Fuck, he’s acting like Indrid, bumping the table and yammering about things that will get him nowhere. He sits back, grabs his wine and sips to cover his error. 

“I’d like that.” Is all Vincent says as they’re entrees arrive. 

“Enough about me. I was reading about your business and, ah, well, how do you even do something like that?”

Vincent describes his process, how he picks clients and what he considers when evaluating a space. Apollo fully intends to zone out with a smile. 

He hangs on every word. All too soon, Vincent is asking for dessert. 

“Is your meal okay?”

Apollo looks at the plate of spaghetti carbonara he’s been poking at, not wanting to be caught in an ugly expression while eating, “Yes, it’s delicious.”

Dessert arrives in the shape of a chocolate lava cake with sparklers, a detail which delights Vincent. It’s such a ridiculous thing to smile over. Apollo smiles back, and let’s his date feed him a bite of cake. 

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

Was the beach trip self-serving on Vincent’s part? Indeed. Has it also given him valuable intel? Yes, yes it has.

He now knows who’s going home next; Nico is such a fraternity-bred asshole that he should have sent him packing weeks ago. Honestly, all his comments about Barclay this morning were awful. Barclay is masculine and sweet in a way Vincent adores. He even helped Joseph during the cliff dive, which bumps him even higher in Vincent’s eyes. 

Joseph stealthily knocking Nico’s hat from his head with a frisbee was also a high point; goodness, Joseph reminds him of men he used to work with who he never, ever, admitted his feelings for (they were often his subordinates, and he prided himself on keeping a safe department). 

Then there’s Duck. Vincent would like an award for not spending the morning asking to rub sunblock on those arms. He’s been treated to a closer view of them the last half-hour, Duck sitting next to him in a Hawaiin shirt that shows off his biceps. The ranger just now excused himself (“gotta give the other fellas a chance to impress”) to go keep Indrid company during dinner. Polite and friendly to the core, that’s his favorite bear. 

And then there’s-

“Hiiii Vincent.” Apollo slides into the spot closest to him on the restaurant deck. 

Were Vincent choosing for an evening, Apollo would edge out even Duck. He suspects getting the younger man under some comfortable sheets to praise and fuss over him would be very nice indeed. Apollo may posture and insist to the others that he’s the dominant one in the bedroom, but this isn’t Vincent’s first go around; he knows someone who longs to be spoiled and submissive when he sees one.

But he’s here to choose his husband, not a hook-up. 

He initially assumed he’d send Apollo home after their first formal date. He knows these shows sometimes attract people who want their fifteen minutes of fame, and Apollo is one of them. But then his meticulously built image cracked, just a little, as they talked, and Vincent is so taken by what he saw that he can’t bring himself to send him home yet.

The older man slides the younger one an oyster, “try one, they’re local.”

There’s no appealing way to eat an oyster on camera, but Apollo lifts a shell and downs one. He does an excellent job masking his grimace.

“Another? Or would you like one of the grilled scallops instead?”

He watches him run a calculus. Then he slides his sunglasses down, “Scallop, please.”

Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

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

“Indrid, Vincent hates me!”

Indrid blinks at him.

“One of the other contestants got them to show him a bunch of footage of me putting the other men in their place and now he hates me.” Genuine panic rises in his chest as Indrid gives him absolutely no expression to work from. 

“What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to him, tell him that I’m not-”

“What you actually are? Vincent is here to choose a spouse; he has a right to not choose you.”

“Fix. It.” Apollo snarls.

His twin stands, regarding him from across the rug, “I will speak to Vincent, on one condition; you do not go after Duck ever again.”

“Traitor, you should be on my side, not his.”

Indrid shrugs, sits back down and picks up his book. 

“I’ll, I’ll tell father you’re sabotaging me.”

“You think he’ll like to hear you’re being out done by his inferior son?”

“....Damn it. Fine, fine. I’ll leave Newton alone. Now go.”

His brother has the audacity to grin at him, “I will, right after I finish this chapter.”

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

He’s sitting with Duck and Joseph, asking their opinion, when Indrid enters the living room.

“Did Apollo send you?” Vincent picks lint from his cardigan. 

“Yes. He’s asking me to intercede on his behalf since he thinks you hate him.”

“Oh dear, I don’t hate him. I just said I was disappointed in him.”

“Ah” Indrid perches on the arm of Duck’s chair, “That’s our father’s code for ‘I hate you.”

“Jesus.” Duck mutters.

“I suspected he was exaggerating. That’s why I agreed to talk to you; I’ve learned it’s best to verify anything  he tells me. In truth, I can’t do much for him.  If it’s not obvious, he takes after our father and our father is...not a good man. We each survive him in our own way; Apollo chose to mold himself into what he demanded we be. That does not excuse him. But perhaps it puts him into perspective.”

Vincent knows he’s not sending Apollo home this week; it’s still Nico’s turn. And his heart that taps his chest to ask, “Do you think he could change?”

Indrid says nothing. Duck is keeping his mouth shut, but his frown suggests his answer.

“This is not to defend him but” Joseph looks at Indrid, “you grew up under the same conditions and chose not to replicate them. That suggests it’s possible.”

“I just didn’t want to end up like him.” Indrid murmurs.

“And ‘possible’ don’t mean probable.” Duck adds.

Vincent rubs his temples, “You’re right. All of you. I...I think I need some time to decide how many chances to be the person I think he can be I ought to give him.”

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

Apollo isn’t sure what to expect. The last time Vincent asked to see him, it was to scold him. Three guys have gone home since then, and he’s been fighting back his impulses to torment and gloat, focusing instead on  making Vincent like him instead of undermining the competition. 

The door opens on a room with a bed, lots of candles, and…

“Is that whale song?”

“Yes. I picked a ‘soothing’ playlist to fit the mood.” Vincent is in linen pants and a button up short sleeve, pats the bed with a smile, “I thought a nice massage might do you good. Non-sexual, of course” he tips his head at the camera.

Apollo isn’t shy. His thirst traps are legendary. But he lays on his stomach the instant he’s down to his underwear. Vincent hums as he starts on his shoulders, checking in now and then about pressure. It would be nice if Apollo’s skin weren’t starving for gentle touches. He keeps letting out pathetic sounds, almost like chirps, as Vincent rubs him down. 

Then the worst thing happens; he gets hard. At first he tries just keeping his hips still but no, just Vincent’s touch is enough. So he tenses in hopes of not giving it away.

“Is it too hard?”

“No, I’m fine.”

The hands leave his skin and he whines like a kicked dog. 

“Would you gentlemen let us do the rest in private? I’m sure the viewers get the point.”

There’s shuffling feet and shutting doors, and then a gentle hand rolling him onto his back.

“Apollo, what’s really--oh. That explains it.” 

He scrambles to sit up, tucking his knees to his chest, “I’m sorry, you said you didn’t want it to be sexual, I didn’t do this on purpose, I swear-”

The bed squeaks along with him as Vincent sits, “Sweetheart, I’m not going to get angry with you for this. If, um, if it helps to know, the feeling is very much mutual.”

It should feel like a triumph, but his cheeks burn and he hides his face against his knees. 

“Does that bother you?”

“No! No, not at all. I wouldn’t be wooing you on T.V if I didn’t think you were attractive. Blech, I sound like one of Indrid’s romance novels. Not, not that there’s anything wrong with Indrid...liking...silly things.”

Vincent cups his face and he leans into it, wants to glue his cheek there, “Apollo, I’ve noticed you’re trying to be less...unkind since our little talk.”

“I’m trying. It’s just so very, very hard.”

“I’ve also noticed you’re letting your persona go now and then. That means a lot to me. I’m not interested in the man you think you should be; I’m interested in the man you might become, the man you are when you stop trying to be better than everyone. I like that man, I’d like to get to know him more.”

Apollo shivers as Vincent kisses his forehead, “I’ll do my best.”

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

“The nerve of Joseph to say things like that to me!”

Indrid doesn’t look up, “It’s a genuine concern; Vincent is older, there will likely come a time when you’ll be the one caring for him. Are you certain you’ll have the patience for that? Be willing to put your needs and wants on hold for the sake of someone else?”

That’s really what would happen? He, he could do it for Vincent, he’s certain. But could he? What if it’s hard, without glory or gain, does that make it foolish?

He chases those thoughts in dizzying circles for fifteen minutes until they crash into the solution.

“I solved it! I don't have to worry about taking care of Vincent as he ages because he'll divorce me once I reach thirty-two.”

“That is the bleakest possible conclusion.” Indrid flips his sketchbook closed. 

“Just let me have this!”

“I hate that I even have to say this but Vincent is not our father.”

“Father said he was doing what any sensible man would do.”

Indrid levels him with an unusually firm stare, “Do you not want Vincent just because he’s over thirty-two?”

“Of course not! He’s great! I, brother for goodness sake just tell me how to care for him.”

“I literally cannot do that. You have to figure it out for yourself what care looks like for you.”

He’s about to repeat his demand when his phone rings. 

“Hi, Vincent.”

“I'm so sorry, but I have to break our date tonight. I was out for a run and twisted my ankle. I just got back from the doctor; he says I sprained it, so I might be on bed rest a few days.”

Perfect. 

“Oh no, I’m glad it’s not too serious. Would, ah, would it be alright if I came to see you?”

They agree on a time. Then he remembers the problem that preceded the phone call.

“What do I do?”

“What do you want to do for him? Or, if your positions were reversed, him to do for you?” Indrid asks flatly. 

“Call you so he doesn’t see me looking frail.”

“assume I am dead and thus no longer dealing with your nonsense”

“That’s not fair.”

Indrid flops on the bed, “I'm dead, Vincent is the only one who is coming to take care of you, what do you want him to do?”

“Tell me it’s okay and spend time with me and…”

Indrid grins, “And?”

“And watch PBS in bed.”

“It’s a start. Now please get out of my room.”

An hour later he pokes his head into Vincent’s bedroom; the older man is reclining, reading a John Grisham paperback in a robe that makes him look very suave

“How are you feeling?” He sits next to him, rubs his knee. .

 “Oh, I'm fine, just feel a little silly. It used to be I could twist an ankle and come up fine. Aging is quite the adventure.”

“I, um, I'm glad it wasn't too bad. I, I don't like the thought of you getting hurt. Bot that you'd be bad if you did! I accept that we are all very fragile beings trying not to die.

(Too dark, Cold,  pull it back).

“I mean, um, is there anything I can do to help?”

“I'd be happy to have you stay awhile.” Vincent takes his hand, let’s him lean on his shoulder as they talk. They’re midway through a discussion of famous film disasters when a small burst of black and red lands on the windowsill. He doesn’t catch his excitement in time and Vincent asks him what made him perk up. 

With a courage he did not know he possessed, he points to the bird.

“Oh! How beautiful. What kind is it?”

“Scarlet Tanager” he mumbles, “they’re not common here.”

“Do you know a lot about birds?”

He nods. 

“There are some feeders just on that balcony. And I think the binoculars a friend gave me last Christmas are still in the closet, if you’d like to use them.”

“I would” he stands, heart bubbling with terrifying warmth, “thank you, da--ah, dear.”

Mischief sweeps across Vincent’s face, “Is this where you tell me you’ve had lots of older boyfriends?”

“No. I, ah, I’ve made out some but I never dated.”

“Not even a highschool sweetheart?”

“My father made it so no teenager wanted to go near our house. Or us.” The binoculars are magnificent, the best money can buy, “I always wished I had a date to homecoming. It looked so fun, asking someone or getting asked and then having matching outfits and going out to dinner and taking pictures together. I even picked out an outfit just in case someone asked.  I think Indrid snuck out to meet his burnout--, um, meet his friends. I just sat in my room.”

“You could have asked someone yourself, couldn’t you?” Vincent makes room for him on the bed once more. 

 “And risk getting rejected in front of the whole school? No thank you.” He stares at the binoculars, afraid of what he might see if he turns, “I'm sorry, you don't need to hear all this. I’m supposed to be here taking care of you.”

Vincent opens his arms, pulling Apollo into a hug, “You know care can go two ways at once, right?”

“Not really” he mumbles into silver silk.

“Oh, sweetheart.” A kiss on his cheek, hands running soothingly up his sides, and those weak, silly noises slipping from his mouth. 

“I want it to be, I’ll be so good, I’ll take care of you, just please...please say you’d do the same?”

“Of course. That’s what love is.”

He tucks his face against Vincent’s neck, “Will you make fun of me if I say I’m frightened?”

“Never.”

“I don’t know how to do so much of this. I don’t know how much of me can change.”

“Are you willing to try?” Vincent kisses the shell of his ear.

“For you? Yes.”

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

“I choose…” Vincent looks between Apollo and Jonathan. Apollo cannot wait to spring into his arms. 

“I choose neither.”

“What!” Ned yells off camera.

“I’m sorry to both of you but I simply can’t. Jonathan, you’re a very nice man, but our connection is ultimately lacking. Apollo” Vincent meets his eyes and he forces his gaze to stay placid, “I care for you more than words can say. I know you’ve worked so very hard to change. I also know that people can easily revert to their old, cruel ways under pressure or difficulty. Marriage often involves those things, and I’m not sure you can be the man I need you to be. With those misgivings,  it wouldn’t be fair to propose to either of you. I hope you understand.”

They both say the do, shake hands, give hugs. And he does, he truly does understand. He understands that Vincent made the choice he had to, that even though he got better he is still a rotten, cruel creature who doesn’t deserve him. He was taught he deserved the world; some good that did him. It lost him the only person who might make the world a less miserable place. 

“Apollo!” Vincent jogs after him, catches up to him in an empty hall, “Apollo I-”

His heart is breaking; his old ways twine like vipers around it, “I, I’m glad you didn’t choose me you, you boring, pathetic man. No wonder you have to pay people to go on dates with you! I don’t need anyone, least of all you!”

Vincent steps back, face falling as Apollo storms off. The last thing he hears is, “And here I thought I made the wrong choice.”

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

He deletes his Instagram. Gets a job as a personal shopper. Goes to therapy because he will not let Indrid outshine him when it comes to unlearning how they were raised. 

It helps. Three months after the disastrous finale (for him, not for the network) he’s feeling, if not better, like he might actually try dating someone soon. He also writes two apology letters; one to Indrid and one to Vincent. Then he tears them both up and just tells Indrid that he’s trying to be less of an asshole and that he’s sorry for all the time he was one. He leaves Vincent alone; if he doesn’t want to see him, the least he can do is respect that.

It’s migration season, so he’s hiding in his favorite, super-secret birdwatching spot. It’s near a pond, so lots of birds come to drink and bathe, and he’s seen several on his list. 

Branches crack, sending nearby jays into a flap. Damn it, he’s never seen someone else here; the only person he ever told about it was-

“Hi, Apollo.”

“Vincent!” He almost falls off his stump, “how, why?”

“I’d been meaning to explore this spot ever since you spoke about it. But I, um, was also hoping I might see you in the process. Pathetic, as you might say.”

“I did, didn’t I.” Apollo stares up at him, clutching his binoculars so hard they might become disparate spyglasses, “Vincent, I am so, so, so very sorry for how I acted when we last saw each other. I was hurt, all I want is to make someone else hurt more so I stop feeling so vulnerable and powerless. I, I’ve been working on it in, in” he winces “therapy. You said once that you wanted to meet the man I might be. I realized I wanted to meet him to, to be him, not to win some show or even to get you to like me but just because I don’t want to be the other Apollo anymore.”

Vincent sits next to him, “You don’t give up, do you?”

“I, I just want to un-fuck what I can. I, how have you been?”

“Doing lots of thinking. I still know I made the right call not proposing during the finale. And that I’m ready to start dating again.”

“I hope whoever you go out with knows how lucky they are.” He says without any motive but the truth.

Vincent plucks a late-blooming wildflower and offers it to him, “It’s not a rose, but then again, this isn’t a proposal. It’s just a date, if you still want one.”

“So badly.” 

The older man leans in, kissing him softly as his spine turns to soup, “I’m looking forward to meeting the, um, latest version of you.” He snickers at his own phrasing.

Apollo pulls him into a second kiss, “Me too.”

[samcro-before-hoes]

Biker Born and Bred

Characters:

May 2009

**********************

Cassandra Rose Harris

‘Cassie, Cass, Cassie Rose, Cassie Rose Harris, auntie Cass, Auntie Cassie ’

April 16, 1983

"I think it’s easier to just breakup with them.”

"I like what I do."

"Women talk Jax. She loves you, she always has. She's just scared to."

"Get off your fucking high horse, I know your not gonna stand there and treat me like a whore."

***********************************************************

Sherri Harris

‘Sher, Mother, grannie Sherri’

“See! This is the situation you put yourself in why you associate with biker thugs and pornstars!"

"This was never the life I envisioned for my daughters! Or my babies!"

"Disappointment doesn't even cover it."

"Jesus Christ Jessica! How could you do this.”

***********************************************************

Owen Matthews

1978 (31)

"Come on Natalie don't be like that."

"Once a biker whore always a biker whore."

"Relax, I was just helping her out. She’s my sister-in-law."

"Don't forget what I can do to you.”

***********************************************************

Shannon Amber Rutledge

‘Shan, Momma Shan, Lola’

1958

"What happened?”

“I like Beth and Gen. Gemma is nice to just kinda hard to get to know even after all these years.”

“I’m a Lawyer. The clubs lawyer actually.”

"Natalie is like a daughter to me’."

***********************************************************

Braxton Duke Rutledge

‘Duke’

1983

Prospect

“We were friends once.”

“If you could just look past your anger with me you would see that I’m trying to help you.”

“Have you had enough?”

“What the actual fuck?”

***********************************************************

Landry Ransom Rutledge

‘Ace’

1978

Club member

“Remind me to never piss her off.”

“crazy in the best way possible.”

“And the freak circle is complete.”

“Crazy blondes dude, ya gotta love em’.”

***********************************************************

Kristen Nicole Rutledge

‘Nikki, Nik, Kiki, Kiks, Coco, auntie Kiki’

July 23, 1981

“Well if that not the skank calling the whore a slut.”

“I guess you could say Tommy and I are together.”

"Miss Ima-Whore is over there with Natie...you might wanna fix that or your gonna have to replaces porn star."

“You ain’t gotta be afraid to get your ass kicked.”

***********************************************************

Ashleigh Ann Rutledge

‘Ash, Leigha (Leah), Auntie Ash’

1980

“I look sweet but I’ll kick your ass.”

“I got two mother-in-laws for the price of one husband, but you can’t forget the father-in-law.”

“People say what they wanna say about Kade but he’s my favorite person”

“One sick freak.”

***********************************************************

Thomas Wayne Teller

‘Tommy, Tommy-boy, Tommy Teller’

January 8, 1984

“My brother is the outlaw biker. I’m the normal one who does illegal shit sometimes with the outlaws.”

“Jax will cut off his hands if he touches you.”

“I definitely fucked all three of them tho…”

“My mom hates everyone, don’t take it personally.”

***********************************************************

Jackson Nathaniel Teller

‘Jax, J, Jayj, Jackie-Boy, VP,’

April 9, 1978

Club Member/ Vice President

"She’s my Old Lady.”

"Baby, there’s nothing to forgive.”

"Nothing will ever change the way I feel about you”

"Come near Nat again and I’ll put a bullet in your temple.”

***********************************************************

Rest of SOA cast as

themselves

[orsuliya]

Since you do such detailed asks and give a well thought out answers, I want to know your opinion on the Ma brothers. Zilong, Zilu and Zitan. What do you think about them?

Ah, our three intrepid Ma princes... Wait a minute, why three? It's not like we're in a fairytale and while Zitan is certainly a fool, he's not nearly good-hearted enough to play the role of Ivan the Fool.

But seriously, it seems mightily suspicious of Daddy Emperor to sire three sons in quick succession and then, as far as we know, never ever procreate again. He's an Emperor and obviously fertile, so how come the imperial nursery remains so glaringly empty? Could it be that he has no concubines at all except for his beloved Xie Guifei?

Or... has the Empress been aborting babies left and right, and poisoning her way through swathes of women to boot? Not impossible, knowing her temperament, but it doesn't really make sense within the dynamic presented in the drama. Drama!Emperor hates, hates, hates the Wangs and especially his wife, so it's hard to believe he wouldn't have used this juicy tidbit to weaken their influence. In the book Wanru is allowed to run roughshod over Potato's concubines and feed them contraceptives willy-nilly, but that's because Potato doesn't really care. The Emperor, as we see him in the drama, would have found reason enough to care upon being given such an obvious opening to start a smear campaign against his favourite enemy. Stymying the imperial bloodline?! Why, I think it might be a crime and easily provable one at that!

This leaves the other option - perhaps there aren't any concubines in the palace or, if there are, they're not being, pardon my French, bred. It's not that multiple imperial concubines of lower rank aren't a thing in this universe - Potato gets at least two and possibly more after sitting on the throne for a relatively short time. It's a pity we don't know what's the policy on entering the palace. Is there a multi-stage selection process? There is certainly no indication of that! Xie Guifei might have been an attempt to balance out a Wang Empress, Seagull was Zitan's impromptu choice, Miss Screecher was meant to be chosen by Potato outside of any organized selection and the same could be true for Potato's other concubines. Our only outlier might be Zilu's Mom and even then it's rather doubtful she was ever processed properly as it would have required a lot of effort and luck to conceal an already existing pregnancy. No, Zilu's Mom was most probably a gift of 'peace' from one brother to another.

My guess as to what Daddy Emperor is thinking? If Zitan has been his preferred heir from the start and he very well might have been since it never had anything to do with Zitan's actual qualities, then it's possible that he simply didn't protest - or did so in a purely symbolic manner - when the Wangs started limiting his reproductive chances. Why breed competition? We already know he has no use for any sons lacking powerful backing of their maternal clans, see: his treatment of Zilu. And any son with such backing would be a direct threat to his favourite, not to mention a potential upset to the carefully maitained Wang-Ma-Xie balance.

...or it could be that Daddy Emperor really loved Xie Guifei and wanted no other. Seeing as he's strongly implied to spend his nights in her chambers twenty years after their only and last kid was born, this would make a staggering amount of sense. The same principle applies - he'd still not protest Wang tyranny over the inner courts, only he'd do it for Xie Guifei and not for Zitan. It does seem to fit with Daddy Emperor's general mindset. Let the others do open battle and exert all that effort, he'll just sit there, look sage and reap the benefits!

After this rather senseless and overly long prelude, let's finally get to answering your question. Mind you, those are not going to be organized, thoughtful opinions, just my subjective impressions on each and every Ma Prince.

His Imperial Spudness Ma Zilong

The not-so-little Potato that could not, but still tried! Let's start with the elephant in the room, namely his rapist tendencies or the lack thereof. See, I'm convinced that raping Awu wasn't actually in the cards, at least as far as Potato was concerned. Compromising her, sure, just lure her into an emptied palace and cry wolf. Outright raping her, no, if only because Potato is way, way too weak and soft to execute a plan this ruthless in its entirety. Besides, harming Awu to this extent would be risky as all hell and sure to provoke authentic wrath in both Daddy Emperor and Daddy Wang. The Empress is not stupid enough to give her husband the perfect excuse to do away with her son nor to alienate her main supporter in the same move. Even if she was able to force a marriage in the first place, Potato would be pretty much done for politically unless both Daddies suddenly dropped dead. The most she would be able to get would be a grandson in a privileged position, so she'd be back to square one, only with one more female to share power with. No, what Potato did and what Wanru suffered was mostly courtesy of Zilu's suspicious drugs. Not to say Potato isn't a rapist all the same, but I'd argue for diminished capacity.

As for Potato himself in his shining spuddy glory, I truly pity the man. From time to time we see glimpses of the ruler he could have become and whom he still tries to be, and it becomes clear that there was something there worth cultivating. The problem is that nobody could be bothered to even try. Daddy Emperor certainly didn't, leaving Potato pretty much to his own devices and believe me, it had nothing to do with his talents or the lack thereof. Do you remember that lovely family scene at the beginning of episode 1.? You know, the one where Awu, Zilu and Zitan lure Zilong into a trap and then leave him there to lie amidst icy rocks in the middle of winter? He could have easily hit his head and died right then and there. Or get pneumonia and die a little bit later. Does the Emperor care? No, not at all! Baby!Awu isn't that good of a liar, but even if she was, perhaps it would behoove him to actually investigate. Not from any kind of fatherly feeling, let's not expect miracles, but perhaps from political expediency? Yeah, no. And I doubt that was the only incident of this kind. Potato must have known even this early on that his father doesn't care for him, not even like an Emperor should for his eldest male scion. Moreover, there is no way Mommy Dearest wouldn't harp on about the Emperor's negligence in private, further affirming this awful truth in Potato's mind.

Mommy Dearest might care, but her care is no less toxic than Daddy Emperor's open negligence. Potato is her key to power, her only way to win the game of thrones and make all her sacrifices worthwhile... and this is exactly how she treats him. Oh, she loves him well enough as her son, clings to him in his role as Crown Prince and then Emperor, but she doesn't actually like him as a person. And oh boy, does it show! I get it, he's not this perfect shining prince that would justify her long years of suffering, but then I have this feeling she gave up on him the moment he showed himself to be perfectly average. Sure, she offers him (toxic) love and (conditional) support like nobody's business, but there's always this nasty undertone in their relationship. Mommy knows best, don't even try to think on your own, listen to me and only me. It's no wonder that Potato thinks he's perfectly useless and doesn't bother to try and better himself, if he knows that even his own mother sees him as a perfect nincompoop. Uncle Wang's open derision isn't helpful either!

And yet Potato is, deep down, a decent enough man. Better than the average Ma, I'd say. I mean, he has some scruples! They might be really, really tiny, but they're there, even as he's being subjected to a barrage of mental attacks from both his mother and his wife. Why, given proper support and a competent cabinet, he'd make a somewhat ineffective, but decent enough ruler, his handling of the flood crisis shows us this much. Potato's best quality is that he really tries. Oh, he fails, but he's no Zitan, content to sit in his room and mope while the country goes to hell. When it's important, he can make actual decisions! Which he may then go back on (or not), but it still counts. Also, he's not petty. Like, at all. He'd like nothing better than for everybody to get along and have lots and lots of plump babies. Even his decision to do away with Xiao Qi is not motivated by jealousy, no matter how hard Wanru and Mommy Dearest keep pressing on that particular button.

Is he childish? Yes. But then, he's never been given any real responsibility and for years and years languished under the care of a helicopter parent who never forced him to man up nor face actual reality, hence his disillusionment with Wanru, once she stops being this perfect smiling automaton. Is he selfish? Oh yes and it shows nowhere better than in his last will. But even so, such selfishness is pretty much par for the course when it comes to the Mas and at least Potato didn't wreck a country for the sake of personal spite, which puts him way ahead of his father, uncle Jianning and bro Zitan. And perhaps even cousin Zilu, who cared less for the country than for Huanmi.

At the end of the day, our humble root vegetable is a tragic figure. I can't help but pity him every time we see him bloom under somebody's attention. Give that man some respect and he'll pay you back with the same, weird comments about killing you nothwithstanding. And he did give us Miracle Baby, Our Lord and Saviour!

Our beloved Groomzilla, Ma Zilu

Daddy Emperor must have been stupid, high, blind or all of those in order to let Zilu and his beautiful brain slip through his fingers. He was right there, that defenseless, motherless boy and ripe for the taking too! If after years and years of being neglected and treated as an afterthought, after suffering an obvious slight of losing his love on Daddy Wang's say-so, after being allowed to supposedly run wild with no attempt at parental intervention... If after all this Zilu still craved his father's approval in whatever form he could get it, craved it so much that he allowed himself to be led into an obvious trap, then what kind of loyalty might he have offered, had somebody bothered to nurture him properly?

And it's not like his talents were easy to sweep under the rug. It's not until after he's an adult that Zilu takes up the pretense of being a never-do-well; during his adolescence he was still giving it his all, hoping in vain that his father might notice and offer him some sweet, sweet parental validation. Alas. The lack of powerful backing from his maternal family is an obstacle, but not if one actively tries to fight against consort kin clans and their influence. Or is it only the Wangs who are the enemy? Must be so, otherwise why the hell would one not see Zilu's relative independence as his greatest asset? You don't even have to make him Crown Prince to use him; just instill some sense of pride and validation, feed his need for attention and put him behind Zitan's throne. Okay, maybe don't do that last thing, deadly brotherly competition being a whole thing in palace environments, but still, use him! But no, Huanmi remained the only person to actually see and appreciate Zilu for what he was. Is it any wonder he was so absolutely loyal to her that even when it looked like she had attacked him with lethal intent, he still cared about her safety most of all?

And is it any wonder that he expedited his considerable will and brainpower solely for her benefit? I was absolutely floored when I realized that becoming an Emperor wasn't actually his ultimate goal - marrying Huanmi in the biggest, reddest wedding possible was! Even if he needed to drag the more august guests in at swordpoint. Not to say he didn't want to take the throne for his own sake; he absolutely did, but only as far as it served as a big fat fuck you to every person who kept dismissing him out of hand, so basically every person other than Huanmi. Taking the crown was a power fantasy, an idee-fixe of sorts, but for all that keeping a throne in one's basement can be seen as somewhat peculiar, there are very few - if any - signs of actual delusion in Zilu's actions. The throne is not a goal in itself, merely a way to achieve his primary goal, which is to marry the woman he loves, take revenge for Huanmi's sake as much as his own and build a life worthy of her. She's his Empress and by gods, she's going to be the real deal soon enough, no more cosplaying in private villas, however nice it might be!

Ma Zitan, the one and only Master of Mope

With every Ma Prince I become more and more convinced that there was something seriously wrong with Daddy Emperor's brain. Neglecting Potato makes some sense within the greater political picture, letting Zilu lie fallow is the height of foolishness, yet it's more a matter of criminal inaction than actively doing something wrong, but Zitan? Oh, there is no excuse for the way Daddy Emperor chose to deal with Zitan. If the Third Prince was truly his intended heir from the start and there is little reason to believe otherwise - if Wangs are to go then Potato is done for, Zilu was never even considered and Zitan remains the favourite long after showing his complete uselessness - why not try to prepare him for his future role? True, doing so openly might provoke the Wangs, but it's not like there aren't any ways to present such ruler lessons as something else, even a punishment. But no, let's just hope he turns out okay all by himself!

Now, logically reasoning, if Zitan was Daddy Emperor’s favourite and the prince he originally wanted as his heir, then Zitan should be given all possible help, right? So why wasn’t he taught any actual skills, whether in governance or in military matters? The thing is… they might have tried. In episode 61, when Zitan asks his faithful pair of retainers if he would be able to best Xiao Qi, their first answer is not that he’s the Emperor so it’s a given. Well, that too, but the first, immediate response? You studied the art of war. Which, okay, might be a reasonable guess when it comes to any prince, but those retainers are rather young and only recently-promoted. Before their soujourn at the Imperial Mausoleum they probably served somewhere within the wider imperial household, but not close enough to any great personage to be knowledgeable about what the princes might or might not have studied. Also, that answer, should Zitan’s lessons be limited to his early childhood, would make them look like idiots or bootlickers of the worst sort. But let’s say that Zitan actually studied the art of war and did so longer than his brothers. Or, alternatively, with more famous masters. That would naturally be a subject of some talk, if only within the imperial household itself. If so, then the female retainer, who seems rather astute in general, gave the best answer she could give.

Okay, so maybe somebody actually tried to help Zitan along. It still failed. Zitan at twenty or so is singularily useless and strangely unambitious, and no, calligraphy doesn't count as useful, not if one is an imperial prince and Emperor-to-be!

It's not Zitan's uselessness or even his refusal to feel any kind of reponsibility for his own people (as shown in the Huizhou arc) I have the most issue with. Although the latter is simply disgusting. And... really, really short-sighted. If Huizhou falls, as it surely must, Jianning and Co. get a clear way to the capital, leaving Xiao Qi to play deadly catch-up. Which means that Zitan's family is pretty much done for. Now, he might not care about Potato and Zilu, but surely he should feel something towards his father? Some filial piety, if not actual love? But no, screw the people of Huizhou and screw Daddy Emperor. Still, does he think that Jianning wouldn't pursue him to the ends of the earth in order to eradicate a potential claimant?

No, what really angers me is the way Zitan treats the women he claims to hold dear. And I'm not even speaking of Awu, although it's rather obvious that he cares little for her internality and rather more than is healthy for his idealized image of her. Xie Guifei dies for him, which is not his fault in the least... or is it? See, I'm pretty sure that Zitan's insistence on marrying Awu despite his mother's reservations was what provoked the Wangs to take certain... steps. Provoking a power struggle is all fine and good, if you're at least somewhat prepared for the consequences. Zitan is no fifteen year old well-bred young lady, he's an imperial prince right in the middle of a delicate balance of power, how the hell does he not know or care about possible ramifications? Naivety is theoretically not a crime, but that surely is criminal naivety. Which begs the question - how hard was that boy coddled by his mother? My guess is a lot. But Xie Guifei is but a trifle compared to the elephant in the room.

Xie Wanru. Xie Wanru, who supported Zitan as much as she could while being in a precarious situation herself. And whom he had no problems with asking for further support, going as far as to aim for the throne, disregarding her own and her children's potential interests. Xie Wanru, who didn't make the first move, even knowing Zitan to be a potential threat to her and hers. Xie Wanru, whose baby got a full portion of avuncular love in form of actual torture and was lucky to get away with his life. Xie Wanru, his sister, whose ghost must have screeched with fury upon hearing Zitan laud himself as this paragon of brotherly feelings in comparison to the well-intentioned Turnip.

Oh, and he just sat there like an offended child while the country kept sliding into chaos, simply because some evil old men didn't let him kill Cheng's entire army with his sheer incompetence. Those dastardly old bastards! Let them scramble around and let the people in the provinces keep dying; they all deserve this for not recognizing Zitan's awesomeness! I'm not saying he should have fixed everything. I'm saying he should have done the bare minimum. He killed a brother for that throne, now he should actually do something with it. Other than purposefully provoking the only guy who actually restored peace and stability simply because the man happens to be married to Zitan's first love.

I'm sorry, I cannot with Zitan. There's a lot more to be said about that twerp, much of which has already been said, but at this point refraining from plowing on it's a matter of mental hygiene.

[needtherapy]

Mao’er Makes A Friend

Wasn’t it enough that Wei Wuxian got his brother a puppy? Now Jiang Cheng wants him to LIKE her, like he likes all the other dogs. Wait. What other dogs? Lan Zhan? What does he mean “other dogs”?

Part 2 of JiuJiu Gets A Puppy

Read more Kristina Writes Tiny Stories

His eyes narrowed at Mao’er. He hadn’t seen her move, but he suspected she was plotting.

“Wei. Wuxian. Are you paying attention?” He looked up at Jiang Cheng, offended. “Of course I am. You were talking about irrigation. Do I need to give you input on irrigation?”

He looked back at Mao’er. This time, she had definitely moved. Still sitting, but sitting...closer.

“First of all, I didn’t ask for your opinion on irrigation.” Jiang Cheng sounded dangerously calm. “Second of all, that was ten minutes ago. Lan-zongzhu asked for your report on how the Yunmeng Jiang juniors are progressing.”

Oh. Oops.

Wei Wuxian dragged his attention back to the meeting he had been forced to attend at Cloud Recesses. Well, “forced” might not be wholly accurate. He had been very nicely and very firmly asked to attend by Jiang Cheng, Lan Zhan and finally, da-baizi, with full Zewu-Jun formality. And everyone else was there, so he suspected it would have been considered rude if he had declined. Although, he thought, it was very unfair that Nie Huaisang seemed to be dozing behind a fan in the corner.

It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want to be there. He liked talking about the different training curriculums, and he was the only person who regularly taught in both Lotus Pier and Cloud Recesses. But these days, being around Jiang Cheng meant being around Mao’er. And Mao’er was—complicated.

Wei Wuxian was perfectly aware that giving Jiang Cheng a puppy had been his idea. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, and he had worked very hard to accept that dogs did not have to be the terrifying beasts of his nightmares. Mao’er had been one of Jin Ling’s prized husky puppies, so Wei Wuxian had been able to spend the first four months of her life petting her soft baby fur, feeding her pieces of meat from his fingers, and trying not to flinch when her tiny teeth playfully nipped his fingers. His heart had melted a little more every time she had rolled on her back, legs curled up for a belly rub. Jin Ling had even made Wei Wuxian teach her to sit and stay, explaining that it would help Wei Wuxian bond with her.

And oh, it had been worth it. There had been the smallest twinge of apprehension when he’d slid her into a basket to give to Jiang Cheng. But the look of hopeful love on Jiang Cheng’s face when he’d seen Mao’er for the first time had dissolved whatever trepidation Wei Wuxian harbored. It was one of the best moments of Wei Wuxian’s life, and not just because Jiang Cheng had cried.

Somehow, though, over the last year, puppy Mao’er had turned into adult Mao’er, and it worried him. No, she wasn’t big. She didn’t bite or snarl or try to steal his food. In fact, she was very well behaved, always glued to Jiang Cheng’s heel, moving when he moved, sitting when he stopped. But she was smart. Eerily smart. 

For one thing, she could sword fly. Not on her own, of course, but in a moment of weakness, Wei Wuxian had made a flat platform that expanded like a fan and hooked to Sandu’s hilt. He never thought it would actually work, but of course, Mao’er turned out to be adept at balancing. Jiang Cheng took her everywhere with him, her nose always turning up to sniff the wind as they flew. It was unnatural.

And for another, she would carefully hold anything Jiang Cheng handed her until he asked for it back. He even let her carry Sandu once, glaring at Wei Wuxian when his mouth had dropped open in shock.

Most unnervingly, Wei Wuxian was sure she watched him when he wasn’t looking.

Today, she was inching closer to him, and he couldn’t figure out why. He’d only caught her doing it once, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that every time he looked away, she did this odd sitting scoot that moved her closer to him without ever standing up.

“Stop looking at my dog like that,” Jiang Cheng snapped, and Wei Wuxian blinked up at him, surprised by the sharp tone. It had been a long time since Jiang Cheng had seemed this upset with him.

“She’s moving toward me,” Wei Wuxian tried to explain, but it sounded ridiculous even to him.

“Of course she is.” Jin Ling smoothly interrupted Jiang Cheng’s growing annoyance, patient as always when it came to dogs. “She adores you.”

“But why?” Wei Wuxian asked, trying not to whine and failing. Next to him, he felt Lan Zhan’s tiny sigh. 

Jiang Cheng was less subtle. “I can’t imagine,” he snorted. “But she’s trying to win you over. She did it with Huaisang too.”

Wei Wuxian grimaced, thinking Mao’er might have been more successful with Nie Huaisang if she hadn’t eaten so many fans when she was teething.

Jiang Cheng misinterpreted the expression and splotchy red indignation bloomed across his face. He stormed across the room, followed by Mao’er, to stand in front of Wei Wuxian, hands on his hips. 

“How can you still be afraid of her? You picked her out! You trained her! You even got to name her! And you were never afraid of anyone else’s dogs until Fairy. Why is it just mine?”

The room got very, very quiet. Again, Wei Wuxian sensed Lan Zhan’s reaction, tension this time.

“What other dogs?” Wei Wuxian asked, confusion knitting his brows together.

Jiang Cheng exploded, shifting into outrage in the blink of an eye. “What do you mean, what other dogs? You live in Cloud Recesses with the country’s most famous dogs, and I have never once heard you complain about them!”

It did not seem possible, but the room got even quieter. Wei Wuxian felt the blood drain from his face as he turned to look at his beloved husband who would never, ever lie to him.

“Lan Zhan? What dogs?” Wei Wuxian’s voice cracked, and he could not believe the guilty look on Lan Zhan’s face. It was not possible.

“Wei Ying, I did not know you were afraid of dogs before...” Lan Zhan trailed off, a flush creeping up his neck. “Before you came back. You were here numerous times and did not seem bothered by them. But once I knew, we made sure you never had to be around them.” 

The tone in Lan Zhan’s voice was almost like pleading.

“Laodie, the pekes live all the way over in Mengshi,” Jingyi added unhelpfully, as if Wei Wuxian had any idea what Mengshi was. “In the last four years, they’ve never caused you any trouble, so what difference does it make?”

Wei Wuxian shot out of his chair. “Show me. Now.”

Lan Zhan clearly did not want to, so in the end, da-baizi sighed and beckoned for Wei Wuxian to follow him down a twisting path toward the edge of the great forest. They ended up at the gate of a house he’d only ever seen from a distance and had always thought was empty. There were half a dozen golden, furry logs galloping around inside a fenced courtyard, their flat black noses snorting with enthusiasm. It wasn’t a particularly graceful or elegant run like Mao’er’s, more of a rolling waddle, and Wei Wuxian had a hard time believing these were dogs.

A Lan disciple was sitting in the yard with them, throwing a small wooden ball and ruffling the long hair of the animals whenever they got close to him. Wei Wuxian knew that disciple.

“A-Yuan?” Wei Wuxian didn’t yell, but he didn’t have to. 

Sizhui glanced up and froze.

“Adie,” he started, jumping to his feet. 

Wei Wuxian pointed a finger at him. “Don’t ‘adie’ me! You knew? This whole time? I thought pets weren’t allowed in Cloud Recesses!”

Sizhui paled and looked around nervously, waving his hands at the yard.

“Wei-qianbei, don't say that. These are not pets. These are Lan-laoshi’s award-winning Pekingese. Lans have bred Pekingese for so many generations, they are considered members of the family. Lan-laoshi has been teaching me the art of bloodlines and traits for breeding.”

Sizhui smiled fondly at one of the ridiculous things that had come over to pant on his feet. Wei Wuxian surrendered immediately, swayed by Sizhui’s obvious pride and affection.

“How did I miss this?” he asked, turning to Lan Zhan for some kind of answer. But when he was immediately distracted by the dark pools of Lan Zhan’s eyes, the slope of his nose, and the faint curve of his lips, he remembered that perhaps he didn’t spend quite as much time observing his surroundings as watching his husband’s face. 

Jingyi patted his shoulder consolingly. “So now you know. Who cares?” He muttered under his breath, “They’re barely dogs anyway. Not like the Nie mastiffs.” “Yeah!” Jiang Cheng was annoyed again, and Wei Wuxian was confused again. “You aren’t afraid of the Nie dogs either, and I know you see them all the time!” 

“Nie Huaisang doesn’t have dogs?” He heard the question in his own voice.

Everyone turned to stare at him except Jiang Cheng, who grabbed his arm and dragged him over three decorative bridges, around one large koi pond, and down the hill to the Gusu Lan stables.

“I thought those were small horses,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, peering at the shaggy animals Jiang Cheng pointed at. 

Granted, he’d never looked at them that closely, but now that he thought about it, it was very strange for horses to be rolling around on the ground. And those did look more like paws than hooves. 

But no.

Wait.

No.

“They have saddles. I’ve seen the saddles. I’ve seen your son ride them,” he accused Jiang Cheng, who did not look even remotely repentant.

“You didn’t think it was weird that Chifeng-Zun had miniature horses in his war room?” Jiang Cheng thundered, and Wei Wuxian looked at him blankly.

“No. Not really.” Everyone knew the former Nie zongzhu was crazy about horses.

They all paused for a moment until da-baizi laughed, the light music of his voice breaking the silence.

“That is exactly something Mingjue would have done,” he agreed with a wry smile.

Something occurred to Wei Wuxian, and he slumped heavily to the ground.

“Jin Zixuan’s dog statues? Those were real dogs, too?” 

He didn’t even bother to look up at their reactions. Of course they were. Those fragile-looking sculptures with the silky crested ears that sat on decorative pillows had been alive, and he’d just never noticed. He shuddered. Thank the gods he’d never tried to touch one.

To his surprise, Jiang Cheng sat down next to him, bumping his shoulder.

“You really didn’t know? This whole time, all these years, I thought…” Jiang Cheng swallowed audibly, and Wei Wuxian looked at the damp corners of his brother’s eyes with dawning horror.

“I thought it was just me. That you just didn’t like dogs and you made a fuss because you didn’t want to live with them.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was low and hoarse. “I mean, it was fine because you were more…”

Wei Wuxian cut him off so he wouldn’t say something that would make them both cry in front of everyone they knew. “I really didn’t know.”

He felt something cold and wet under his hand and he moved his fingers, absently scratching a soft nose and velvety ears, thinking about all the stupid misunderstandings of the past. Would he ever stop finding things he needed to apologize for?

He looked back at Jiang Cheng, ready to say he was sorry. But Jiang Cheng was looking past him, a soft smile on his face. Wei Wuxian followed his gaze to his own hand resting on Mao’er’s head, a wide-open doggie grin on her face. 

As soon as his eyes met hers, she licked his face and laid her head on his lap. He had to laugh. He had to. She had finally won.

He looked up into Lan Zhan’s face, overwhelmed by the love he always found there.

“Lan Zhan, I think we’re going to need to get a dog.”

Notes:

As always, thanks to @wangxianbunnydoodles​ for always having the best names and for the very good beta read.

猫儿 Māo'ér means kitten 猛室 Měngshì means fierce house.  大伯子 dà-bǎizi means husband’s elder brother 老爹 lǎodiē is a respectful way of saying grandfather, but as this is Jingyi, it is a little less respectful.

I did not call this “Crouching Mastiff, Hidden Pekingese” although I was very tempted

[spooky-luvur]

Is it possible for you to do a fic with Dutch with a male s/o who's deeply in love with him but has a shitty, very homophobic and abusive family?

Anything is possible, dearie.

Also, idk how to put in a ‘read more’ on mobile, so until someone helps me do that, you’re stuck with a big block of text sorry.

I really enjoyed writing this. I hope it’s okay. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

-

(Warnings: abuse, mentions of rape, language)

(Sorry for any spelling mistakes)

-

Ranching had been your family’s life since the day your great-great grandpappy had built the entire thing with his own two hands. It was for his wife, Amy Rose. She had come down with a serious illness one day, and she told her husband that before she died she wanted to own a ranch. And he loved her enough to let her have her wish. And so Amy Rose Ranch was born.

You lived and worked here with your parents and two older brothers. Although you wouldn’t exactly say they worked here too. Your family wasn’t...the nicest folk. At least, when it came to you. They thought you were no good, so they left you with the dirty work around the ranch. Which was pretty much...everything.

Shoveling shit, for one. It had to be your least favorite. You also had to do it quickeri than a man could pull a gun on his enemy during a duel. If you took too long, your brothers would come in and force you to clean it all up with your hands, saying the shovel was the reasons you was taking so long.

Ma handled the fancy stuff that didn’t require no shit shoveling or cow milking. She busied herself with the money and who owed them what. Money was a big thing to Ma. She always had to have as much as possible so Pa could buy her that new jewelry set or a fancy mirror. Buyin’ herself all the new clothes and looking more like a queen than a ranch owner.

Pa wasn’t no good neither, but don’t let him catch you sayin’ that. He’s as good as a saint around other folk, but around you, he was as mean and nasty as the devil himself. He’d beat you when he was mad, or when somethin’ around the ranch went wrong, or, on real nasty days, he’d lock you up in the cellar, yelling at you that is was your fault they was losin’ so much money. You never thought too much of it. Honest. It’d been the same for so many years that you’d begun to think it was only normal. That maybe you were the cause of all their problems.

But not this one.

—————

Loud laughter from outside the barn made you pause from laying out hay for the pregnant cow in there. You recognized your pa’s very loud and very fake laugh he saved for folk with lots of money. Shaking your head in sympathy for whatever man stupid enough to fall right into your fathers greedy hands, you turn back to the hay. Before you can finish, though, you flinch at what Pa says next.

“My youngest boy, (M/n), is the one that handles the horses. (M/n)!”

You force back a loud sigh and set down the rest of the hay, pushing open the barn doors to stand next to Pa.

“Yes sir.”

“Take these fine gentlemen to pick out a few horses.”

Your gaze skins over the rough-looking men before you nod.

“Yes sir.”

Before you can turn to lead them to the stables, your father roughly but discreetly grabs your arm and hisses in your ear.

“Don’t screw this up. They have big money.”

You incline your head in a nod, and he lets go, allowing you to lead the men away.

“Dutch Van der Linde.” The nicest dressed man beside you holding out his hands, metal rings gleaming in the harsh sun. You hesitate. Pa had always told to never interact with anyone more than you needed to. For the sake of the other person, of course. Finally getting a good look at the mans face, your breath catches in your throat awkwardly.

By god, he was lovely.

Warm brown eyes look at you curiously. You remember his hand and hurriedly shake it, eyes never leaving his face.

“Uh- I’m- (M/n), I’m (M/n)...”

“Well it’s good to meet you, Mr. (M/n).”

-

“This is Colt. Four years, Thoroughbred. Good if you wanna be fast. Ezra, five years, Paint.”

Dutch nods along as you list off fair horses. The other two men were off somewhere else in the stables after he’d nodded for them to trot off and check out the other horses.

It was all going well, with Dutch asking a question ever now and again, until you were in the middle of explaining how you bred one horse. The sound of a gun cocking makes your entire body freeze up at the unfamiliar sound. You put your hands up by your head like Pa had taught you to.

Dutch’s warm breath fans over your neck, making you shiver. His voice comes close to your ear.

“Now, Mr. (M/n), we’re going to take a few horses, and you’re going to tell your Pa we’ll be back in a day or two to pay. You think you can do that?”

A sinister laugh from the side makes you flinch.

“Aw, Dutch, don’t make the kid piss himself! He’s shakin’ in his boots!” The mean voice taunts, making Dutch chuckle. The cold barrel of the gun leaves your back, making you relax slightly, hands lowering. He turns you around, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“You gonna answer me?”

“Yes sir, I- I can do that.”

He pats your shoulder. “Good.”

-

“What?!”

“Th-they said they was gonna be back Pa, I didn’t-“

He backhands you, making you fall back with a pained noise you cut off in your throat.

“They better. They better come back, and they better pay, or it’s you I’m putting a bullet through next! Understand me, boy?!”

“Yes sir...”

-

A few days later, the men do return. They don’t return on the horses they took, which confuses you a bit, but you don’t have the time to think about it once Pa offers them to have some fancy whiskey in the drinking room.

They laugh like they did when the men was first here. This time, both Ma and Pa were laughing with them. Pa yells for you to come pour some more drinks. You go and do so, handing them out. Once you offer Dutch his, he grabs your arm instead of the glass, making you let out a small startled noise. His eyes meet yours before they move down to your uncovered arm, tracing the bruises left by the many harsh grabs from your Pa and brothers. He lets go after a few moments and grabs his glass, taking a sip as if he didn’t do a thing. You blink, straightening up and taking your place beside Pa’s chair.

“What do you and your men do for a living, Mr. Van der Linde?”

Ma’s honey eyes trail over the mans strong arms, down to his several expensive-looking rings. She flutters her eyelashes, giving him an attractive grin.

“We’re merely men, Mrs. O’Malley. Men that needed horses.”

She gives him a fluttery laugh, trailing her fingertips along her exposed collarbone. To your relief and amazement, he doesn’t even give her a second glance. She doesn’t seem to notice his attention is no longer on her.

“So, Mr. Van der Linde, our money?”

“Of course, sir. We have your money. But first, how about another drink?”

Pa never refuses another drink.

“Of course! You can even pick it out. (M/n)!”

“Yes sir.”

“Show Mr. Van der Linde our selection. Help him choose well.”

“Yes sir.”

The entire way to the room, you can feel Dutch’s eyes burning holes into the back of your head. Neither of you say a word, though. You were still wary of the man that held a loaded gun to your back.

You open the door to the room filled with various kinds of alcohol, bowing your head once Dutch passes.

His eyes skim over the room before he turns to you, making you straighten up, keeping your head down. You clench you’re first to stop them from shaking.

You hear the well-dressed man slowly walk closer and closer, until you can see his polished shoes. Nearly jumping at his fingers curling under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. His...kind...eyes.

“Your daddy ain’t very good to you.”

It’s not a question.

“I...Pa’s just...he works hard-“

“A daddy should work hard and respect his son.”

Dutch grabs your arm with his other hand, turning it over to look at all the scars and bruises. “This, this is *not* respecting your son.”

Your eyes start to water. “Please...Mr. Van der Linde-“

You look back up, into his eyes, and your face falls completely. That look...a look of pure concern...you’ve never seen a look like that directed to you. Ever. But...they’re not good men. You can tell. Pa can tell. Something’s off. But even with that, you can’t help but feel a pull toward the man before you, as if you need him. Need him to care about you.

But before anything else can happen, the door swings open, making you jump back. Dutch, however, doesn’t move, staying perfectly calm.

Your brother stands in the doorway, eyes wide. He looks between the two of you, putting the pieces together.

Then, his mouth curls into the most sinister and evil grin you’d ever seen.

That’s when you knew, you were fucked.

Pa didn’t say a word to you the rest of the night. You didn’t know if your brother, Alan, had told him what he’d seen. You were tense, waiting for someone to jump up and strike you so hard you’d die.

But nothing happens.

By the end of the night, Pa and Ma are as drunk as a crook. They laugh heartily as they show the men out, completely forgetting all about the thousand or so dollars they still owe them. It was a trick, you realize. You don’t think the men have the money. And Mr. Van der Linde, you realize as the man meets your eye, knows that.

Pa beats you that night.

-

Two days later, the men return. But things are different. Pa is impatient, and is also starting to wonder if they actually have any money, or if they’re the drunk crooks. They take their seat in the sitting room, but Dutch is the only man from his side to sit as well. The other two men remain standing. Tense. Like a guard waiting for a moment to strike.

No drinks are poured.

For the first several moments, no words are exchanged.

Then, Pa asks the question.

“Where is my money Dutch Van der Linde.”

Dutch intertwines his ringed fingers. The corners of his mouth twitch. He looks amused.

“There is no money.”

Faster than anyone else can move, Pa lets out an angry cry and whips up out of his seat, taking the bottle of expensive scotch on the table and smashing it over your head. Foul smelling liquid and tint shards of glass rain down on your face, that and the pain making you cry out, stumbling to the floor. The alcohol stings your eyes and blurs your vision.

Dutch, to the others astonishment, springs to his feet, clenching his jaw as he takes in your crouched form.

“My money! Give me my money!”

Ma gasps as the other two men whip our their guns, both of them pointed at Pa. The man seethes, deciding to turn his anger to you. He kicks you in the chest, making you let out a pained wheeze.

“Faggot! You goddamn faggot! This is all your fault!”

“Settle down, Mr. O’Malley. Your son did nothing-“

“Nothing?! Why are you so concerned for him?! Did he suck your cock?! Did you fuck him?! That’s all he’s good for!”

The air in the room itself seems to pause. All three of the men freeze and look at Pa with wide eyes. He wouldn’t...

“Fine! If you want him so much then take him!”

He pulls you up by your hair, throwing you at Dutch who catches you in his arms. You push yourself into his chest, tears and blood running down your face.

Someone’s gun goes off. Something falls to the floor. Ma’s scream is cut off by another shot. Something else falls, and then it’s silent.

That night, you stand outside the house with Dutch.

“I am...sorry...you had to live like that, (M/n).” He pulls out a nice stack of bills from his pocket, putting them into your hand. “But you don’t have to listen to them anymore.”

You frown.

“You can go into town, take the train somewhere and-“

“No!”

Dutch raises his brow. “No?”

“I...” you shift, embarrassed. “I want to come with you. Please.”

He shakes his head. “My life isn’t-“

“I don’t care!” You force the money back into his hands.

“If it isn’t with you then I don’t want it. I’ll...I’ll never be safe!”

Dutch studies you for a long moment. Finally, he grins.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 48

Warning: Mild mentions of gore. 

Nenani could not take her eyes away from the walking corpse. It’s flesh hung loose from its bones and the it was further discolored beneath the rope that still hung from its neck. As she stared, Nenani realized it wasn’t simply a rope. It was a noose. Whoever the man use to be had been hung and though the body was decaying, its was largely intact. He had not been dead for too terribly long.

A flash of silver velvet drew her eye and she watched bewildered as her mother all but ran down the steps and onto the floor and towards Aidus’s dead avatar. Courtiers parted with alacrity, too shocked and taken aback by the dead thing to remember any of their possible prejudices as Oira passed them.  

“Mama!” Nenani called, getting up from her chair, but as she turned to follow her down the steps, a large hand swept in front of her and fingers wrapped around her middle before pulling her up. “Ah-!”

“No, Nenani!” Warren said forcefully as he plucked her off the table. “I won’t have you throwing yourself into harms way. We don’t need a repeat of the time before.”

“But Mama –!” she started to say, but Warren paid her no mind. He turned swiftly to Rosanna who sat frozen in her chair, pale and wide eyed. He stepped up to her and pressed Nenani into her hands. “Keep her here, dearest,” he instructed in a gentle whisper. Rosanna shook herself back to attention and took Nenani, wrapping her arms protectively around the girl and pulling her close. But she did not say a word.

“Aidus!” Nenani tried to turn in the Queen’s arms to see her mother as she heard her voice and could barely manage it. Oira stood several yards from the corpse, looking so small among a sea of giants, but clearly the only one who seemed to not shrink and shy away from the intruder.  

“Such revelry and celebration, my good gentlefolk,” said the dead puppet, it’s jaw miming along to Aidus’s words. A black ooze seeped from the gaping hole in the side of it’s face and mouth. “How easily you all forget that your frocks and silken coats are still stained with the blood of my people.” A thin and bony hand rose to point a finger at Oira. An accusation. “Her people.”

The crowd stared at the dead thing in open horror and morbid intrigue.

“How eagerly I recall you all were to follow Nerthin down his bloody path. How he threw our sons daughters to your mercy. But there was none to be found in your company. No, instead they found stew pots and pie crusts and knives and hooks and roasting pans. I imagine a good many still of your estate gardens hold their bones. Generations of noble blood lost. Thousands slaughtered.” Aidus looked passed Oira and the other giants to glare up at the head table and to where Warren stood. “And those that remain cling to the dirt floored pen into which His Majesty so graciously tosses them.”

The corpse’s head tilted as white eyes focused back around to Oira. “And you. My Queen. Do the screams of your family not still ring in your ears? The father of that one there...he killed your father. Your brothers and their wives and your sister. Their little sons and daughters.” The corpse began to walk in a large and lazy circle, each step painfully slow. “The poor wee grandchildren. Some just mere babes. What does it sound like, I wonder, when a giant squeezes the head of a newborn. Does it pop? Or just squish like an overly ripe peach.” Oira matched Aidus step for step, always keeping him in her sights and at a distance. Her face was hard and furious.

“The screams much have been horrific,” he continued. “The last thing your father heard was his bloodline ending. And I wonder still how many in this room might do the same again should they have the chance.” Aidus’s laugh filled the room. “Just consider your son. Dear little thing he is. The young prince. Which one of these fine gentlemanly monsters would gladly crush him and break him apart like last night’s mutton?”

“Your words are a vile poisoned wine and I will not drink,” Oira snarled, her voice rising high above them all. Her features curled into a vicious sneer. “You hold yourself so high, hiding behind a corpse, Aidus. But I know you. You are nothing but a boy. A cruel little man who always wanted the shiny thing someone else had and you would sink lower than the filth upon our boots to get it. You murdered Prince Thadeus. My friend! And by that single action set Silvaara and Vhasshal on a path to mutual destruction.” She spread her arms to indicate the room. “And still you are here, clearly not satisfied with the thoroughness of your work. But do not make the mistake of underestimate me or his Majesty. We see you plainly now, Aidus. You are laid bare...”

She stopped forward, squaring her shoulders, eyes burning, and she flicked her hands. Bright yellow and red flames licked at her fingers and then all at once they roared to life and into great columns of flame. All around the room, the Vhasshalan courtiers panicked anew, pushing and shoving as Oira’s flames danced and hissed. But Oira paid none of them any mind. Her focus was purely on Aidus and in a loud voice declared, “...and we come for you.”  

The corpse’s features were too far degraded to deign any sort of expression, but it looked to Nenani as though it were trying to smile. “Barely a month among them and already you sing their praises. How disappointing a daughter Haeral must have considered you. Put you in a pretty dress and suddenly you fancy yourself Queen, my girl? But I know you as well Annie. You are a spoiled, scared little girl

playing at a game you were never bred for. You spread your legs for a commoner who only needed to say a few pretty words in your ears before you threw yourself at him.”

“Hayron was a hundred times more a man than you could ever hope to be.”

“And yet he died like the common swine he truly was; in the mud. But if you are so confidant of yourself, my Queen, you know where I am. Where you may find me. The door is open, your highness. Come.”

“You must think I am a fool,” Oira hissed. “No, Aidus. I know your games.”

“Do you now?” he asked in amusement. “Then you must have acquired this knowledge very recently.”

“You will grow tired of waiting for me to play your game, to make the first move,” Oira said, taking a deliberate step towards the corpse and seeming to catch it off guard. “But your machinations that have served you so well all these years are beginning to fail you. Your upper hand is not as steadfast and lasting as you had anticipated. And my allies grow more numerous and they wield power you could only grasp at. As do I.”

“You speak of that magician? Admittedly, he is more competent than I gave him credit for. His efforts are commendable…but ultimately in vain. I may not be able to pass through my physical form or any living avatars, but I have plenty of corpses at my disposal.” The avatar’s arms opened wide. “Thanks in large part to the generous efforts of those attending tonight’s festivities. And then of course...there is the curious matter of your daughter. The bastard.”

Every muscle in her body tensed up and Nenani wanted desperately to be released, but seeming to sense her impatience, Rosanna placed a hand across her shoulders turned her away from the center of the hall.

“No, please,” Nenani begged, wiggling. “Let me see!”

But Rosanna only held her more firmly.

“How strange that such an ill-bred piglet,” remarked Aidus lightly. “Could posses such a raw talent.”  

“Do not speak of my daughter,” Oira growled. “I won’t let her name cross your vile lips.”

“The wonders I could show her...”

“Quiet!”

“The marvels I could teach her...”

“I said enough!”

“So much more potential than your son,” He said smugly. Nenani felt her anger surge. “I had hoped he would have carried the flower such as you. But he is just another in a long line of useless men. Like his father...”

“Is this you calling yourself useless?”

“Myself? No, my girl. You mistake me. Or perhaps you think a bit too much of your schemes. You did not think I ever fell for the idea that he was mine did you? Please, he is the spitting image of Hayron. I’ve known since the day he was born. No, had he been my true son, I would never have used such archaic disciplinary measures on him. You do not beat a purebred. A mutt however...”

Nenani both heard and felt her mother’s rage filled cry and the whooshing sound of flames, but before she could beg for release, Rosanna was on her feet, being guided by Warren away from the table to where Master Donal was waiting. “Take them to the keep and have guards posted!”

“What?” Rosanna demanded, twisting and looking to her husband with fear. “You aren’t coming with me?”

“I won’t leave Annie to face him alone. Even if he is only controlling a corpse,” he said, pushing her towards Donal’s outstretched arms. “Aidus is too dangerous a rogue to ever underestimate. Go with Donal, love.”

With extreme reluctance, Rosanna allowed Donal to guide her by the elbow to the small room in the back and out another door before spilling out into a side garden where the cold night air met them. However, they had not moved but a few dozen yards away when Rosanna stopped in her tracks.

“Your Majesty?” Donal asked. The poor man looked frazzled and deeply concerned.  

“I can’t,” she said, voice wavering and on the verge of tears. “That…that thing killed Thadeus. I won’t let him take Warren from me too.”

Rosanna pushed Nenani into Master Donal’s arms. “Take the Princess to the keep.” And with that one command, Rosanna turned on her heels and ran back inside. Donal fumbled as he reached out to grab a hold of Nenani and looked on after the Queen with horrified bemusement.

“W-what? You’re majesty!” Nenani was trying very hard not to lose control of her flames, but her limbs were shaking and her finger tips were glowing.

“Donal!” Master Donal turned at the sound of his name and Nenani was feeling distinctly dizzy by this point and her stomach roiled with the motion.

“What’s goin’ on?” When her head stopped spinning, she saw Keral jogging towards them. She did not see Jae with him.  

“Oh! Keral, thank the Gods,” said the steward in relief as the ranger met them. “Is Master Jae safe?”

“Hidden,” Keral replied shortly. “Safe.”

“Very good, very good,” Donal replied breathlessly and then held Nenani out to him. “Take the Princess there as well, my good man. The Queen went back inside and I must retrieve her.”

“She what?” Keral asked in disbelief as he readily took Nenani into his hands. She grabbed onto his index finger as his hand wrapped around her. But Donal had already turned to run back inside, leaving Keral alone in the garden with his new charge. He growled. “Well, fuck...”

“Put me down!” Nenani snapped as she wiggled. “I need to help Mama!”

Keral barked a sarcastic laugh, shifting his grip as he turned to jog back from where he had come. “The hell ye are!”

Her further protestations were completely ignored as Keral made his way through the garden and into a side corridor and down a long flight of stone steps. At the bottom was an unremarkable wooden door so worn with age it nearly blended in with the stone walls. He pulled the door ajar, slipped inside, and pulled it closed behind him. He then bolted it closed.

The only light was a single lit candle on a broken stool in the corner and what little light it provided seemed enough to illuminate the small space. It looked to be a disused storage closet. Near the base of the back wall, an old blanket had been folded to create a makeshift cushion and sitting there, knees to his chest, was Jae. When they entered, his head snapped up, but his initial alarm calmed when he saw it was only Keral.

“Nenani,” Jae said from his spot on the blanket before getting to his feet. His eyed were red and swollen as though he’d been crying. “Are you all right? What’s going on out there? Is Aidus really here?”

Keral bent down to release Nenani onto the floor, nudging her towards Jae. From his boot he pulled out a long bladed knife before pushing himself up against the door. His ear was pressed to the wood and his expression was set into one of stern concentration.

Nenani looked up at the ranger, huffing through her nose. “Let me out!”

Keral did not move away from the door or even look at her. “No.”

She went to the side of his boot to push at the thick leather. Unsurprisingly, it did not move. “Please!”

“Go sit, Nenani.”

“Come on, Keral!” she yelled, stomping her foot in anger as her hands burst into flames. To drive her point across eve further, she then kicked the giant boot with her thin slipper and regretted immediately it as her toes cried out in pain. “Ah!”

Only then did he look down at her with a fierce glare, brow furrowed deeply. “Not gonna tell ye again, Princess.”

“I can’t just...not do anything...” she pleaded, her anger ebbing into sorrow, and the flames from her hands began to flicker and die.  

“Ain’t yer place to be doin’ anythin’ but plantin’ yer keister down and being quiet,” he snapped, pointing purposefully at the folded blanket. “It’s my job to make sure both of ye stay alive while the others deal with that fucker. ‘Cause if either of ye get so much as a scratch, I’m gonna have not one but three monarchs, plus my brother, crawlin’ up my arse. So let me do my damn job girl and sit down.”

Nenani was breathing hard, trying to return the ranger’s hard glare with one of her own, but her lip began to tremble and every bit of fight in her seemed to dissolve as the worry began to set in. Every time Aidus came, he seemed to have something new to flash in their faces, some new power with which to taunt them. He was trying antagonize them, she knew that. But to not be able to answer him made her angry and the pent up energy seemed to buzz all through her body. But the moment she remembered her mother, all that anger shifted into fear. Her flames flickered and died. What if her mother did something foolish and got hurt? Or worse...

She felt hands on her shoulders and she jumped.

“Come one, Nenani,” Jae said gently, steering her back to the wall. “Just come sit with me.”

The blanket was old and dusty and smelled like mildew, but she did as she was told and sat down. Jae pulled her to his side, wrapping an arm around her. She laid her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his middle just as the frustrated tears began.

“I hate him...” she murmured into the fabric of his doublet. “Aidus. I hate him.”

Jae rested his head against her. “I know,” he said quietly. “But Keral’s right. You can’t just go run after him. He’d kill you.”

She wanted to argue the point. She had power now and much better control than the last time he sent one of his avatars. She wasn’t useless anymore. She wasn’t the same needy little girl she use to be.

“I know I could help,” she said very quietly.

“You’re already doing plenty,” Jae replied.

“Doesn’t feel like it...”

Jae sighed. “I know it doesn’t. Don’t know why I said that. At least this way they don’t need to worry about us.”

“What good is having powers if I can’t help?”

“...well,” Jae said with a shrug. “Look at it this way; you’ll never be in want of a candle again.”

She pulled her face from his shoulder to level and unimpressed flat look at him. “...really?”

“What? I can’t be perfectly witty all the time,” Jae shot back. “It’s been a really stressful night.”

It seemed as though they stayed inside the closet for close to an hour or so. Keral remained on guard the entire time, head pressed to the door and waiting and did not say a word or even so much as move. There were several times where they could hear someone running passed, but no one ever seemed to pay the door any mind. It was present in Nenani’s mind to ask if it might be safe when there came three loud and heavy handed blows against the door and they seemed to startle Keral. He stared at the door, eyes narrowing as he gripped his knife tighter. The door’s hinges made a light tinkering sound as the one on the other side of the door tried the handle and found it unyielding.  

“Keral, open the fuckin’ door ye greasy prat!”

Nenani’s head perked up at the familiar voice and she scrambled to her feet.

“Farris?” asked Keral. He bent down to slip his knife back into his boot. “That you?”

“Of course it’s me. Now open this fuckin’ door!” replied the kitchen master, sounding more agitated than normal.  Keral stared at the door with an irritated glare, but he suddenly did an about-face and he broke out into a cheeky grin.

“...what’s the password, then?” he asked lightly.

There came another heavy handed bang on the door. “Oh, I’ve got it just here,” Farris replied pleasantly and then his tone shifted down into his more usual threatening manner. “In my fist. Open up so I can give it to ye.”    

Keral shrugged, sensing the quick demise of his joke and unbolted the door. “Aye, that’ll do.” He paused. “Just don’t be swingin’ at me. Don’t wanna be gettin’ any blood on my good jerkin.”

The door swung open and a very unamused Farris stood in the doorway. He glared at his brother. “I’ll think about it,” he said as he walked inside. Nenani was on her feet and ran towards him.

“What happened with Aidus? Is everyone all right? Where’s Mama –?”

“Easy now, Dumplin’,” he said, the gruffness of his tone replaced with a gentle one. He crouched down to cup a hand around her back, his thumb brushed her cheek as his green eyes studied her. “Ye all right then?”

“I’m fine, but what happened with Aidus?” Nenani asked, her tone bordering on desperation as she clutched the base of his thumb. “Or...the corpse, his avatar.”

“Didn’t see it fer myself,” he said. “But one ‘a the footmen said yer Mum burnt ‘im to cinders. The lanterns have all gone out, so I suppose that means he’s gone fer now. But Maevis is still sayin’ he’s sensin’ somethin’ else so he’s got every available guard doin’ another sweep just to be safe. Most of the courtiers are all leavin’ save fer a handful of ‘em that are stayin’ in the guest wing.”

“Casualties?” Keral asked.

“Only Lady Tafford’s dress and hair it seems. Heard her wailin’ about it across the damn castle,” Farris said as he looked up to see Jae sitting on the folded blanket. “How about ye, Jae? Still in one piece are ye?”

Jae just gave a weak thumbs up, looking tired. Farris nodded, bringing his other hand to Nenani and scooping her up. “When no one could find the two of ye anywhere in the keep, I figured I’d check Keral’s old hiding closet.”

“Keral’s hiding closet?” Jae asked and then regarded the ranger with a curiously grin.

“Use to hide in here when I was a squire,” Keral replied with a lazy shrug. “Good place if ye don’t wanna be found fer a while.”

“Aye,” Farris growled. “And his majesty’s right pissed no one’s been able to find any of ye. So we best get them both back to the keep before he issues a damn warrant fer yer sorry arse.”

With a nod, Keral walked over to where Jae was sitting and crouched down in front of him. “Come on then, Pup. Let’s be gettin’ ye back to yer Dad. Not good to worry him any more then ye already do.”

Jae nodded and got to his feet. “I guess so.”

………………………

“Didn’t think I’d get to see ye in yer court dress all done up,” Farris said as they walked back up the steps and into the servants portion of the corridor. “Yer lookin’ like a proper princess and everythin’. Too bad that smokey bastard had to go and ruin yer official debut.”

Nenani flapped her arms to show off the length of her sleeve. “I don’t understand the point of these sleeves. I look like a goose.”

Farris laughed and raised his eyebrow at her as he caught sight of a sliver of leather under the fabric. “...Dumplin’? Ye ain’t wearin’ them vambraces Connar made ye are ye?”

Nenani pursed her lips and slid her sleeves back down over her hands. “...might be.”

Farris laughed louder. “Seven hells lass, ye don’t have yer dagger too do ye?”

“No,” she replied with a pout. “I couldn’t figure out where to put it and my new belt was too bulky under the dress.”

He eyed her. “But ye thought about it...”

She nodded.

“Seven hells, girl.” he said, shaking his head.

“I wanted to be prepared,” she replied with a shrug. “Like you said.”

“Not quite what I meant. But good to see ye finally started listenin’ t’me,” he said and pinched her arm lightly. Keral walked alongside his brother, carrying Jae, but the boy was listless and seemingly lost in thought. Farris eyed him from the side and said, “So I heard a rumor the King’s gonna make it official and adopt ye, eh?”

Jae nodded, but did not meet Farris’s eye. “Yeah. I guess he is.”

“About damn time,” Farris replied with a small smile. Jae finally looked up only to blink at him in confusion.

“Does everyone but me think this is a good idea?” he asked.

“Didn’t say I thought it was a good idea,” Farris chuckled. “But it is the right one.” A paused. “Just don’t be expectin’ me to start callin’ ye ‘yer grace’ or none of that shit.”

Jae rolled his eyes, but was now smiling. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Farris.”

………………………..

They reached the King’s study to find Warren, Oira, Rheil, and Maevis collectively grim faced and pouring over a large map spread over the whole of Warren’s desk. Her mother, still dressed in her silver velvet gown, was on her hands and knees pointing to a portion of the map.

“...the way is narrow, but there is a wider path closer to the peak,” her mother was saying. “It has the advantage of being well hidden, but as it is the only path that a Vhasshalan could take, it won’t offer much hope of a possible surprise assault.”

Warren had his hands planted on the desk and was leaning over where she was pointing and as soon as they entered, his gaze tilted up and straight to Jae. Likewise, Oira looked to Nenani and got to her feet, but struggled with the heft of her voluminous skirts. Maevis gave her a helping hand.

“Nenani, are you all right?” she asked, the sternness of her expression lightening for a moment. Farris stopped to give a respective bow, keeping one hand pressed to Nenani to prevent her from tumbling out of his arms. When he righted himself, Nenani felt the room spin.

“I’m fine,” she answered, blinking away the vertigo. “What happened though?”

“Not much actually. It was rather anticlimactic considering it was Aidus. He was only trying to get a rouse out of us,” she replied. “Once it was obvious that was all he was doing, I burned the avatar. Though I feel sorry for whatever poor maid has to clean that mess up.”

“No need to worry,” Warren added. “I’ve already instructed Donal to make sure her wages duly reflect the size of the task.”

“So why crash the party at all?” Keral asked, stepping up to the desk and setting Jae down. Beside him, Farris followed suit.

“He’s hoping we make a hasty decision and give him the upper hand.” Oira replied as Nenani went to her, wrapping her arms around her mother’s waist. Oira ran a hand across her head and down her face tenderly. She tipped her daughter’s chin up and grinned at her. “But we won’t fall for his deceptions.”  

Warren was at Jae’s side, bending down and cupping his hands around him. Quietly he asked, “Are you all right, my boy?”

“I’m fine,” Jae replied, staring at his feet.

“I think we need to have a talk,” Warren said, brow furrowed. “About what I said to Eldherst and the others.”

“Yeah,” Jae said, rubbing his arm nervously. “I guess we do.”

“But not tonight,” Warren replied, using the crook of a finger to lift the boy’s face to meet his gaze. “I sense you could do with a good night’s rest and a little peace and quiet. So we will speak first thing in the morning. I promise.”  

“Okay,” Jae replied, looking almost disappointed. “Yeah...”

Warren’s eyes looked just as tired as Jae’s and both seemed as though they wanted to say something, but neither spoke. Finally, Warren stood and looked over to Rheil. “I want guards posted at the doors and each end of the corridors. Aidus’s threats may have been only to antagonize us, but I won’t leave it to chance that he might very well try and harm the children.”

“I’ve already assigned the posts, my lord,” Rheil replied. “Two to each room and three for every corridor in the keep to be on rotation and each team is equipped with a lantern. If Aidus comes, they will know.”

“I will further check the barriers and make sure they are steady and stable,” Maevis added. “He did attempt to push through, but it held firm. The rogue magic I’ve been sensing worries me though. I want to make sure there isn’t another avatar somewhere inside the barrier.”

“Very good,” Warren replied with a nod.

“I am actually very glad you are here, Farris,” Maevis said, turning to the kitchen master. “I had wished to speak to you about inbound shipments.”

Farris eyed the magician in confusion. “Aye? What about ‘em?”

“I’d like to install two lanterns near the back gate where your orders are received. I suspect that might be the entry point Aidus used to sneak his avatar inside the castle grounds.”

Farris snorted. “Ye’d think someone would’a smelled a rottin’ corpse if it came waddlin’ through that way.”

“Lately, I am trying to keep myself from all assumptions,” Maevis replied, looking exhausted. “Too dangerous a pastime.”

“Before we make any further plans,” Warren said. “Let us retire the children to bed. I think they’ve had enough excitement for today.”

……………………….

Lolly was the one to bring Nenani back to her room. Her mother stayed behind in the King’s study to discuss future plans. Though she felt neglected in being cast off to bed so soon after so much excitement, Nenani could not deny that they day had been a draining one and promise of a soft bed sounded wonderful. Haiyer was already sound asleep in his bed, having been put down hours beforehand.

As Lolly helped Nenani out of her dress, she caught sight of the leather vambraces and gave Nenani a look.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, shaking her head. Nenani could only reply with a helpless shrug. Lolly shook her head with a small laugh and made a shooing motion. “Right then, little miss knight. Off with your armor and then into bed with you.”

Nenani loosened the laces and slipped them off her arms and sat them next to her belt and dagger underneath the skirt of her bed. Slipping under the covers, she wiggled herself into place.

“I hope today wasn’t too much for you, sweetie.”

“I’m fine,” Nenani replied. “It was going well until Aidus came.”

Lolly snorted.

“I will be glad when we are finally rid of that monster,” Lolly said as she lightly tucked Nenani in. “Your poor mother does not need that ghoul hanging over everything as she tries to rebuild an entire kingdom.” Her eyes focused in on Nenani as though suddenly recalling who she was speaking to. She smiled sadly. “But that’s nothing for you to worry over. Peyton and William will be on watch tonight, just outside. And I’m sure your mother won’t be much longer. Try and get some sleep, all right?”

“Okay,” Nenani replied. As she left the room, Lolly blew out the oil lamp and closed the door behind her. After hearing her footsteps recede down the hall, Nenani flung off the covers and fell to the floor, scrambling under the bed to grab her belt and dagger and vambraces. She pulled them back onto her arms and swung the belt around her waist. It took her a few tries, but finally she was able to snap the last fastener on her belt and only after checking to make sure the dagger was properly attached did she climb back into bed, pulling the thick blanket over her and wiggling back into place.

Though she held nothing against Peyton and William or their abilities, Nenani was determined not to be caught off guard again.

……………………………...

She dreamed of Aidus and his smoke, the black vapor curling into the air to take on the form of a large hand that reached out. First it came for Hiayer, the little boy crying out and reaching for her. The blue quartz stone she’d given him crumbled to ash in his hands as blackness took him. Then it took Jae, pulling tightly across his throat to silence his terrified cries as coils of black curled around him until she could not see him anymore. At last, it reached out for her, trying to squeeze the last drop of breath from her lungs as it pressed into her. She tried to scream, but she could not breathe. She felt like she was drowning...

When she opened her eyes, her hand went to dagger, fingers wrapping around the hilt as she breathed heavily. Around her she saw only the room, faintly illuminated by the moon’s light, and she relaxed back into soft down of her mattress and pillow. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. The feeling of leather against her arms and around her middle was comforting, but would not shake away the lingering dread.

Turning her head, she looked to check on Haiyer only to catch her breathe in her throat.

A tall black shadowy mass loomed over her brother’s bed, a dark hand reaching down to scoop the child, blankets and all, into its hands. Nenani sat up in bed, drawing the shadow giant’s attention to her.

“Hey!” she cried. “What are you doing with my –?”

Her words cut off as the shadow giant reached out, the outlines of its hand and fingers glowing a bright yellow and the blankets under her suddenly came to life and began to wrap themselves around her, muffling her cries and binding her arms to her sides. From between the closing folds of the blanket she watched as the giant hand reach out for her with its long seeking fingers and just as in her nightmare, the blackness took her.

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BONUS ART:

Fun Fact: Keral nearly always has a boot knife on him. If he’s wearing boots, he’s got himself a boot knife. They’re very handy. 

[kova-killian]

Lady of Light episode 1

Axelia usually loves the sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows, but today, the intricate iron work between the panes feel like the bars of a prison cell. The servants restrain her as her late father's estranged wife sits locked in the rainbow room yelling at the famed knight, Thallan Faekran, now hailed a hero for the Rogue king's death. Her father promised him her hand in marriage if he returned from the campaign.

It only took Thallan four years and her father's death to return. She had only heard about Thallan from her five sisters and their only brother. How beastly and low class he is. But she saw him close once. Only once. She never saw his face, but the delicate vines wrapping around his dark fingers as he picked her earring off the floor forever burned itself into her memory.

“You need to marry her before you leave my castle! I will not allow her to leave here before she belongs to you!” Cordelia snaps.

“With all due respect, Duchess, she's a human being and belongs to no one.” Thallan’s stern, deep voice carries out into the hallway.

“She will not leave until you marry her and there is virgin blood on the bridal chamber bed.”

“I will not force her to do this!” he raises his voice.

“Then I will, she will be prepared for the wedding and either you join us or you flee.”

Cordelia storms out of the study and straight up to Axelia with Thallan freezing at the doors as she strikes Axelia so hard she crumbles to the floor. “You marry him and get out of my home, do you hear me? I'm tired of you running away. You can be his problem. Maybe the monsters around his estate will kill you and then no one will have to deal with you.” she hisses, “take her to the bridal chambers and get her ready.” She snaps at the servants helping Axelia back to her feet, Cordelia then whips around to Thallan still standing in the doorway, “you have one hour to decide, Lord Faekran.”

Cordelia then storms down the hall to the chapel, as Axelia anxiously looks at Thallan, stoney faced, as the servants pull her down towards the bridal chambers.

I don't want to do this!

He doesn't want to do this!

Axelia sits solemnly at the vanity as the servants tug at her long strawberry blond hair and clean the dirt from her skin before they force her into a corset and pull a twenty-pound wedding dress over her. Exactly one hour after Cordelia made her demands, the servants force Axelia into the chapel where all of her siblings sit in front of the altar. Thallan is nowhere to be found. Axelia’s heart sinks as she stands under the bare arch that should be woven with flowers and silk fabric. But no one could be bothered.

Axelia was nothing but a slave to them. That's how all magic users were seen, the only good they were was to serve, or be sold for sex.

Please show up. . .

Free me.

“Five more minutes.” Cordelia nods at the priest, waiting impatiently.

Suddenly, the double doors to the chapel swing open and Thallan storms up to the altar. Axelia looks at him as the priest starts the ceremony. His light hazel green eyes stare angrily out the window behind her, his high cheekbones and dark skin illuminated perfectly by the light. But he wasn't happy.

I wonder what he would look like if he were to smile.

“Do you take her to be your wife?” the priest says.

Thallan cliches his jaw and scowls. “I do.”

“And do you take him to be your husband?” the priest glares at Axelia, which makes Thallan ever more tense.

“I. . . I do. . .” her voice trembles.

“Kiss your bride.” the priest growls as he quickly leaves.

Thallan looks at the terrified Axelia and his face softens. He kisses her cheek.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers to her, his once stern and angry face with a mask of sadness.

Cordelia claps her hands twice, “get her ready!” she snaps at the servants, “I’ll have a servant come and fetch you when she is ready. In the meantime, you and your knights can go have a drink.”

Axelia is quickly whisked back up to the bridal chamber. The servants roughly remove her clothes and place a white gauze dress over her that ties on the shoulders before they force feed her bone broth. She trembles as they shove her to sit on the bed and leave the room. She looks around, trying to busy herself with something until the door quietly opens and Thallan comes through. He angrily undoes the leather straps holding his armor together and tosses the pieces in a heap by the door. He glares at her as she nervously holds her hands up by her chest, trying to protect herself.

“Why do you look at me like that?” he snaps.

Axelia flinches, “you’re angry. . .” she says, trying to hide her trembles.

“I'm not angry at you,” he sighs and walks over to her.

He gently pulls one of her curls over her shoulder but then shakes his head, her knees buckling as she backs into the bed again, “can we not?” Axelia’s voice shakes.

“We have to, if I'm to get you out of here.”

Thallan presses his knee between her legs forcing them apart. He isn’t that much taller than her, but enough that she had to look up at him. He stands over her and unties the neck of his tunic.

“Please. . .” she tries reaching for his hand but he seemingly crumbles.

He backs away from her and sits on the stool next to the vanity with his head in his hands, “I want to get you away from them.”

“You. . . what?” She sits rigid, afraid to move.

“Just, let me so I can get you out of here tomorrow.” he pleads as her body trembles violently again, “I promise I won't hurt you, but it won't feel comfortable.” he runs his hand up to the hem of her dress and slides it up to her hips.

“Th. . .Thallan wait.” she whimpers, grabbing his hands, trying to pull them away.

He looks at her, his eyes full of sadness, “please don't make this harder than it already is.”

He undoes the ties on her shoulders, her hand instinctively grabbing the fabric falling off of her. He kisses her neck, trying to make her feel something other than fear.

If it were under different circumstances, she would have let him. But at the moment, she's terrified. Afraid of her siblings and their horrid mother and what will happen if she makes this wall of a man angry. He pushes her flat on her back, still trying to calm her down with his kisses. His hand carefully trances up her thigh but she can feel his heart slamming into his chest just like hers.

“Please wait!” she pulls his hand away from her inner thigh, her light brown eyes searching his face, hoping he wasn't angry with her.

He looms over her resting his head on her chest, "God damn it. . ." His body vibrates in anger as Axelia lays under him, afraid to move. "Fucking bitch. . . I never wanted it to be this way." He looks at her. "I never wanted you to look at me like this." He pushes himself off of her and sits against the post on the bed. "You were the only reason I made it through the war. . ." He rubs his face and unties his hair frustrated with the entire situation.

"What do you mean?" She sits up still trembling.

"Please stop looking at me like I'm a monster." He closes his eyes and looks away from her.

"You thought about—Me?" She furrows her brow.

"Almost constantly. . ."

"Is there some other way? Do we have to. . ."

“Do I repulse you that much?” Thallan clenches his jaw for a moment, until his eyes light up. “I have an idea. That bitch will have the servants search you, but they won't bother with me.”

“Okay?”

“If I cut my hand and put some of the blood on the bed and your. . .” his eyes drift to the hem of her dress, “. . . thighs maybe it will appease them and we can leave in the morning.”

Axelia looks at him backlit by the fire, his long black hair cascading over his shoulder, “okay, if it gets me out of here in the morning.”

Thallan quickly pricks his hand and smears the blood around, “I can just drip some in your hand if it would make you more comfortable.” he says after letting drops fall onto the sheet.

“If it's on my hands they’ll know something is off.”

Thallan nervously looks at her and then let's some blood drip, “rub them together.” he quickly says before getting off the bed.

“My legs?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, it has to look smudged.” he smiles at her confusion. “I’ll sleep in the chair by the fireplace.”

The next morning Thallan gets up before her and leaves the room after dressing. Cordelia's servants quickly run in and roughly pull out of bed. Throwing the blanket to the ground, the small sprinkle of blood Thallan placed there illuminated by the sun coming through the large window.

Without letting her change, they grab her wrist and toss her into the hallway where Thallan stands waiting.

“Wait! I can't leave in this!” Axelia snaps as she nearly drops the untied dress from the night before.

“There is virgin blood Lady Cordelia,” the servants bow as Cordelia storms down the hall.

“Good, now leave.” she spits as Thallan covers Axelia with his deep blue cloak.

“My things?” Axelia snaps.

“They belong to us, remember?”

Axelia stares at Cordelia with eyes full of rage, “none of them fit in my clothes, what could you possibly use them for?” Thallan holds onto her.

“Rags.” Cordelia smirks, “what else would those horrid pieces of fabric be used for?”

“you want me to leave like this and ruin your family name more?"

Cordelia’s eye twitches as she grabs Axelia by the jaw, "You low bred wretch, you can leave in that.”

Thallan tries pulling her towards the doors outside, “I can buy you something in Linden.” he whispers.

“You are an illegitimate stain on the Demonne name already.” Cordelia growls, “And now you're an illegitimate stain on the Faekran name.” she chuckles pleased with herself.

Axelia laughs to hide her pain and anger, “what about those younger children of yours? They aren't stains on the name?” Axelia snaps.

“You are the only one!” Cordelia stops herself, “you're the only one with that disgusting trait of yours.”

“Cordelia. . .” Axelia snaps.

Cordelia narrows her eyes, “he’ll find out eventually and you’ll be in the same situation you're in now.”

Axelia’s eyes snap up to Thallan as he stands there looking confused before gently pulling her down the grand stairs in the entrance and out into the garden where a carriage sits with four knights sitting in wait for them. She scowls at the carriage, but just as she turns to walk to the stables, the stable master comes up the road with her absurdly large black Clydesdale and her riding clothes.

“Lady Axelia,” he nods as he drops the lead into Thallan’s hand and hands her the clothes.

“Thank you, Mr. Porter.” She smiles, “how did you know?”

“What do you mean, how did I know? Lightning bug, did you forget that my wife was your nursemaid?”

Axelia chuckles to herself, “No, I will never forget that.”

“Then she told me what was going on before they even woke you.”

“Thank you.” She sighs, before climbing into the carriage to change.

Quickly closing the curtains, she crumples the white dress she was forced into the night before and pulls on her rich green cotton tunic and her thick black pants before tying up her boots and stepping out of the carriage as she braids her hair out of the way.

“Anything else you need, ma’am?” Mr. Porter asks as Axelia pulls on her black leather gloves with Thallan’s cloak over her shoulder.

“Do you know where my friends are?” she smiles.

“Of course.” He smirks at Thallan as he quickly scurries back to the stables.

“This carriage isn’t yours, is it?” She takes the lead from Thallan as he stands there, speechless.

He blinks a few times in shock before staring at her. “no, we leased it from town.”

“I’ll have Mr. Porter send it back. It’ll slow us down.” she adjusts her sleeves and fixes the saddle on her horse. “And I'm sure you all want to be home, plus the less time we’re on the red ladies' road the better, right?”

A knight with light brown hair and surprisingly bright blue eyes chuckles. “Careful commander, she seems like a feisty one.”

“Shut it, Pierre,” Thallan laughs. “What is your horse's name?”

She strokes the horse's face. “his name is Alrune.”

“Can you mount him? He towers over you.” Thallan pats Alrune’s side.

“I manage fine,” she says.

She makes a clicking noise, sending Alrune into a kneeling position. She kicks her leg over and pats Alrune’s neck before he stands.

“Well that makes it easy. Can you mount him in a hurry?” Pierre narrows his eyes.

“You doubt me?” Axelia raises an eyebrow as Mr. Porter returns with the items she asked for.

“Don’t underestimate Lady Axelia.” Mr. Porter chuckles as he stands by Axelia’s foot. “The whip.” He hands her a long black staff with buttons on either side. “The twins.” he hands her two large daggers that she tucks into the black belt cinching her waist. “And their older sister.” he hands her a claymore smelt to fit her size.

Clipping ‘The Whip’ behind her on the saddle behind her and sliding the claymore’s sheath strap over her shoulder, she looks around to all the knights staring at her in shock.

“Did. . . did you think my father left me defenseless?” she furrows her brow. “Well, this should be a fun ride if you think I'm going to sit and be a damsel in distress.”

“We just aren't used to women with your title not acting like your older sister.” a handsome blond knight says as he gets situated into his horse's saddle.

“My title? What title? The second my father died in the war, I was no longer the duchess of this castle but a mere slave to my half siblings.” Axelia glares at him.

“My apologies.” the knight sympathetically smiles as he takes his place behind Axelia with another knight.

Axelia rides behind Thallan with two knights on either side of her as they make their way up the switchback mountain road. When they reach the crest of the mountain, Axelia stops a moment as she looks down on the castle she called home for all of her twenty-two years.

“It was such a pretty castle. . .” Axelia sighs, admiring the stained glass ceiling over the rainbow room.

“What was your favorite room?” Thallan asks.

“The room Cordelia had you backed into a corner.” Axelia chuckles.

Thallans eyebrows raise, “the one with the stained glass ceiling?”

“Yeah. . . father had that room built for me after a trip to the port. I combed the beach, finding sea glass while he talked about trades. I stacked it in my windows and made chimes out of the smaller pieces.” Axelia sighs, “Cordelia never let me back into my bedroom after she and her brats took over. I'm not even sure the glass I collected is still there.”

“My estate is on the beach, if you would like to search for some.” Thallan tilts his head with a soft look on his face.

“What's that look for?” She narrows her eyes and smiles at him as the other knights' horses constantly move back and forth.

Thallan shrugs, “you don't seem as afraid today.”

“To be honest, I had run away and was gone for five days. I barely remember yesterday at all. Cordelia kinda took the wind out of my sails when she forced it. Everything, the hunger and the exhaustion hit me all at once,” she sheepishly smiles.

Thallan’s eyebrows drop to concern, “Do you need something to eat? I don't remember seeing you eat anything at all yesterday between the ceremony and the chambers.”

“No, I'm alright. They force fed me before you came in last night.”

Thallan rummages in a leather bag hanging from his saddle and pulls a small burlap sack out, “It's dried fruit and some nuts,” he holds it out to her, his hands covered in cold armored gloves.

“Really, I'm fine.”

“Keep it if you do get hungry then, we haven't had breakfast. I was hoping we would be in Linden by now, but Cordelia had her silly rules before you were able to leave.”

“I'm sorry. . .”

“It wasn't your fault, you don't need to apologize.” he smiles at her, “shall we continue? We won't reach Linden until supper now.”

Axelia rides behind him for a little while until she breaks away from the four knights surrounding her and rides next to Thallan.

“So. . . husband. . . where were you born?” she smiles.

“Honeyport.”

“Honeyport?”

“It was a port that was attacked by the Rogue King. I was the last child to be born there. My Estate is the remains of the stronghold that weren’t destroyed.”

“I’ve never heard of it. . .”

“Well, my innocent lady, I'm almost thirty so it was destroyed quite a bit before you were born.” he chuckles, “what about you?”

“Ironfjord.”

“The dwarf stronghold? That Ironfjord?” he looks at her confused.

Axelia takes a deep breath. “it wasn't a dwarf stronghold until ten years ago”

“Yes, I know,” he says.

“It used to be filled with beautiful strong women with magic of varying degrees.”

“And what was your mother's power?”

“Does the name Lady Brigguite ring any bells?”

“The Chain Breaker. . .” Thallan furrows his brow.

Axelia smirks to herself, “she gave him to me, on top of my own magic. . . when she lost her magic, the dwarfs took over and now sell the women that lived there.”

“Is that what Cordelia meant?”

Axelia nods, her chest tightening, waiting for the knights around her to lose their respect for her. But none of them bat an eye. Thallan taps his chin, lost in thought for a moment as Axelia finally examines him without fear. His dark skin and long jet black curly hair make his light hazel-green eyes stand out, but the delicate vine tattoos that dance up his neck capture her attention.

“Where did you learn to use those weapons?” He finally asks her.

Axelia blinks back to their conversation, “oh. . . father taught me.”

“He talked about you all the time.” Thallan chuckles.

Axelia smiles, “I'm sure.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Have you not been?”

“Let me rephrase, can I express something to you?”

“Of course.”

“I. . .”

“Commander! Listen!” Pierre snaps as everyone goes quiet.

Axelia gently pats Alrune and listens closely. Her heart sinks the second a branch snaps.

"Werewolves." Her eyes shoot to Thallan.

"We're almost to Linden! Ride quickly!" He snaps at the four other knights before sending his horse to a gallop.

[the-irish-mayhem]

Fosterson Fic Rec Masterlist: Oneshots

The Main Reclist has been split to fix the links that tumblr decided to break if there were too many of them in a single post. I’ll be keeping the main reclist updated (even if the links appear broken) as well as maintaining this list and the list for multichapters.

I need help expanding this list! If you have any favorites or fics of your own of your own you don’t see included in this list and you’d like to submit for consideration, please drop me a line.

List updated April 2020. New additions marked with **

Updated during this wild quarantined time, which should serve as a reminder to everyone to APPRECIATE YOUR CONTENT CREATORS! Leave all the comments and kudos to show our love for everything they do. Big thanks to everyone who recommended and/or created content for this amazing ship.

Rated G/K-K+

**Promise by igi_pigi: Thor visits Jane to say goodbye before he leaves for Asgard. Rec: Bittersweet but lovely post-AOU, semi AU pre-Ragnarok. | 1.1k

**Spooky Nights by igi_pigi: "So what is it about?" Thor asks. "Or are we to go in uninformed?"Jane's eyes instinctively flick towards the blank tv screen. Darcy was insistent about it being a horror movie this time - as they serve as "perfect romance fodder", according to the maniac. Jane has decided to go with the recent one, 'The Conjuring'. [Set a few months after Thor2] Rec: Just sweet, dumb, wonderful fluff. Not an ounce of angst to be found. Also Thor learning about Earth is always sweeeeet. | 3.2k

**Stars and Solitude by igi_pigi: It's Jane's first night in Thor's home, however unusual the circumstances. He wishes to show her somewhere. She thinks it's his room. [Set during Thor2] Rec: A nice lil add on, Thor inviting Jane further into his life. | 3.3k

**Can’t Go Back the Same Way You Came by gumbridge: Loki lets go. This is what happens after. (post-film; basically a fixit fic.) Rec: This is pretty Loki-centric, but Jane is fabulously written, the family unit that Loki gets inducted into makes me very happy, and the fosterson is understated but so important and wonderful. | 20k

**spring will come by LadyCharity: As if grieving over the death of her husband wasn't hard enough, Jane has to deal with Thor's angry, bitter, emotionally shot little brother. Rec: This is literally all pain but god it is so good. You can feel the love binding Jane and Loki and Thor and it is so, so well written. Holy shit. | Content Warning: Major Character Death | 12k

the universe in your hand by amonkeysue: For the free day of Fosterson Week 2019, Thor's finally taking the right chance to propose to Jane. Rec: an adorable little bite-sized proposal fic. | <1k

Who Lives, Who Dies by MissChrisDaae: When the dust settles, who is left? Rec: Post-Infinity War, semi-kidfic. Pretty cute, and brings Jane into the story like she should’ve been. | 1.2k

Morning by MissChrisDaae: Thor and Jane's morning is interrupted by their kids. Rec: Fluffy fluffy FLUFFY Jane and Thor with a whole gaggle of children. | <1k

Trending by MissChrisDaae: Jane and Darcy's work session gets a little derailed. Rec: For the Social Media day of Fosterson Week, a fluffy and silly bit, and feeds into the 2012 Avengers Fic nostalgia. | <1k

ever on and on by often_adamanta: Darcy has to correct three separate people at the reception about their relationship, not younger cousin or sister, but college professor and boss and finally best friend. Jane thinks about their surprise, the second glances they give her, and wonders. Rec: Jane deals with the implications of immortality. Her friendship with Darcy is so potent and real in this. | 3k

Before the Thunder Shook Us by niobium: #6, “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” #14, “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” Rec: This is such a wonderful canon-insertion/canon divergence. Just enough fluff and bittersweetness to seem real. | 1k

Private Jokes by MissChrisDaae: Before his return to Asgard, Thor and Jane have a talk. Two years later, Thor misses a chance and Jane has to carry on. Rec: An AOU coda and a Ragnarok fix-it all in one. Feisty Jane and apologetic Thor. My bbs. | 1k

On the Physics of Magical Space Hammers by shinyopals: ‘So what does it mean to be “Worthy”?’ Jane asked. Jane doesn't mind sharing her life with Mjolnir. She just wishes she understood it a bit better. Rec: We’ve all wondered about Mjolnir and worthiness. Jane finally takes the initiative to find out with amazing results. | 4k

Fives Times Jane and Thor Broke Up and One Time They Didn’t by shinyopals: I didn’t know you were in the country, Jane,’ said Jane's grandmother. ‘Of course, nobody tells me anything.’ ‘It’s just a very last minute thing,’ said Jane, which Thor knew to be a lie. ‘I only arrived yesterday-’ another lie, ‘and I’m just on the way to work and thought I’d stop by and see Mom.’ This too was not true. ‘This is my friend Thor,’ she added, almost casually. ‘He’s been helping me with some work so we’re driving into the university together.’ This seemed the most flagrant of all the lies, but Thor decided not to let it show. It's not always convenient to be a relationship, so sometimes Jane and Thor have to make sacrifices. Rec: A giant SUCK ON THIS FEIGE that takes the “Jane and Thor break up” concept to the best possible places. | 12k

Hours Long and Short by shinyopals: The first night, Thor does not sleep. (Written for a post-TDW prompt for Fosterson Week 2017.) Rec: A really wonderful slice of life fic post-TDW. Deals with their trauma so wonderfully, and includes some lovely soft moments. | 4k

#7Days7Hobbies by shinyopals: Thor wants to try out some of Midgard's finest hobbies and turns to Twitter for suggestions. Jane isn't really sure how this is now her life. (Prompt for Day 4: Domestic, for Fosterson Week 2017.) Rec: One of my favorite things that’s ever been submitted for Fosterson Week. I love reading about Thor fully embracing Earth customs, particularly social media, which opal KNOWS is one of my weaknesses. | 5k

A Question of Honor by shinyopals: ‘Paintball?’ said Steve. ‘We could do… that…’ ‘What is that?’ asked Thor. He nuzzled into Jane’s hair. His mead-breath was giving her a headache. ‘It’s a thing- a game… thing. With paint.’ ‘Rogers, stop explaining stuff to Thor, you’re embarrassing me.’ Tony’s voice was remarkably coherent. Must have been drinking sensibly. Bastard. When it comes to deciding whether Earth or Asgard has better warriors, the stakes are high, and Jane is wishing she'd kept her big mouth shut. Rec: TEAM BUILDING EXERCISES FOR THE WIN. | 8k

The Gift Horse by fartherfaster: Sam and Darcy are formally introduced for the first time. Sam says “formally” with some flexibility. And a couch. A couch and a great deal of flexibility. Nevermind, he’s said enough. They met, is what he’s trying to say. Or, Sam's early days with the whole gang. Rec: Mostly a teamfic from Sam Wilson’s POV, which is awesome because how often do you see that. Fosterson is mostly background, but it made me smile so much. | 3k

on the verge of understanding something extraordinary by dirgewithoutmusic: “Jane, you’re an astrophysicist, not a storm chaser,” said Erik Selvig, and he was wrong. She was just an astrophysicist too. (A Jane Foster character study) Rec: I’m relatively certain I read this before and loved it, only it somehow didn’t make the reclist. An amazing, touching, wonderful, stunning portrait of Jane Foster. | 9k

starlight in her eyes by jdphoenix: “You,” she says, voice strong with accusation. “You’re the one who attacked me!” Thor really must laugh at that. “You are the one who attacked me. Or is it considered polite among stars to crash into one another?” Rec: A really awesome take on a Stardust fusion AU. Full of inquisitive Jane and cocky Thor. It gave me really hard vibes from the first Thor film. | 1.2k

a true lady of Asgard by jdphoenix: It's not uncommon for Jane to fall asleep working when she's chasing a new theory or hunting down evidence but the middle of a battle for the future of Asgard is not the time. Rec: Jane becoming a fixture of sorts in Asgard is one of my kinks. Also Jane being friends with Thor’s friends and the people of Asgard. Kink. | 3.5k

Afterwit by RC_McLachlan: Good with patients, bad with relationships. That's what she told Thor before she ripped the name tag from the shirt in his hands and crumbled it in her palm, relishing the way the sticky back clung to her skin before she threw it in the waste bin. She'd never been so right in her life up to that point—the rightest she's ever been was when she decided to offer the crazy blond guy a ride to his mysterious non-satellite in the desert. Or, the one in which Jane and Thor run into Donald Blake. Rec: I am such a sucker for the “running into the shitty ex with the New and Improved Partner” trope and this is that. All of that to such a wonderful degree. | 2.7k

drabbles by freshexes: Rec: Some really fantastic little bits of prose. Great voices of Thor and Jane. Some fluffies, some angst. | 1k

The Good Times are Killing Me by alwaysaprilia: Rec: Modern royals AU. Jane and Thor are perfect in this. The dialogue is sublime, and the interactions made me squee really hardcore. I only wish there was more. | 3.6k

College AU by anthropologicalhands: Rec: It’s kinda more meta/heacanon, but it’s really adorable. | 1k

all’s fair (in love and war) by sweetwatersong: This is what you fight for. This is what you yearn to feel: this moment, this passing of every second, this rush of life and the indomitable strength of the present. Thor is a warrior, born and bred, and he is glad of any battle - and yet, as with all things, even this can change. Rec: A Thor introspect and a really well done second person perspective. | 1k

Five Times Thor Gets His Shirt Off FOR GREAT JUSTICE And One Time He Doesn’t by shinyopals: Sometimes Thor’s armour is more useful when not being worn by him. He definitely doesn’t end up in these situations on purpose. Rec: Please bury me in every single five times fic shinyopals has written. This one might be my absolute favorite. So many fantastic interactions for Thor, not just with Fosterson (which is BEYOND perfect), but the whole team. Plus: naked Thor fighting bad guys in an apron. Also the SamSteve is so strong and I’m in love. | 9.8k

A Discussion of Hypotheticals by shinyopals: Jane and Thor talk about their future. Hypothetically. Rec: I am so glad we’ve made Fosterson Week a thing because this fic is WONDERFUL. Great communication makes me weak, and also so many squee-worthy moments. | 5k

Jane Foster Versus the Internet. Or: Five Times Jane Allegedly Dated An Avenger And One Time She Apparently Did Not by shinyopals: Jane discovers that the internet is The Worst. Rec: It’s the thing I loved so much I made graphics for it because it’s so good. Jane’s interactions with all the Avengers are delightful, not to mention her steady relationship with Thor that is so grounded and real. It’s also freaking hilarious. | 10.4k

Untitled by polyamoryavengers: Rec: Angst and fluff and Jane comforting Thor. *cartwheels into the sun* | 1k

Sexiest ‘Something’ Alive by Niobium: Tony is bound and determined to make sure a human is awarded the title of Sexiest Man Alive (he even has a solid candidate in mind); Jane just wants media outlets to get their science right. Rec: This is absolutely fantastic. Just the right kind of blend of humor, sweetness, and meta criticism ever. | 7.5k

The Hours Filled by websandwhiskers: Ritual and comradery are basic human needs. Rec: Focus on Jane, not a ton of Thor, but pregnant Jane is always a delight. | 1.7k

First Dates? by hariboo: Jane’s not really sure what her and Thor’s first date is? The party or the barbecue? In end does it matter? Rec: I am not a big fan of high school AUs, but if they float your boat, this is definitely worthwhile. | 1.4k | Part of Let’s Be Young Forever series

Of Car Crashes and Coffee by hariboo: “you bumped my car and I’m so piss- oh wow no you’re hot let’s go for a coffee” au prompt. Exactly what it says on the tin. Rec: This made me giggle. Super duper cute. | 1.3k

Tactile Perception by RC_McLachlan: “The day I met you, I knew you would see me.” Her hands find his face, sliding over his jaw, his cheeks, and she brings their foreheads together. “The day I met you, I hit you with my car. Twice.” Rec: *dies quietly* Teasing and cute story telling and just so many good things. | 2k

Clarke’s Third Law by shinyopals: “Of all the people to knock down the stairs, she would pick the practically-seven-foot-tall son of the Minister for Magic who just happens to be the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.” Jane’s just trying to read every single book in the Hogwarts library in between classes, and she’s not quite sure how Thor happened to her. Rec: I never read Harry Potter but damn it this makes me want to. I just love this. So much. I don’t know how but it happened. I actually really wish there was more? | 3.8k

The Most Daring Prophecies–Dr Jane Foster at TED Talk by Rozilla: A transcript of Jane giving a TED Talk on her experiences of crossing the cosmos, Asgard and her hopes for the future of interstellar travel - as reported on WHIH. Rec: I can’t tell you how badly I wanted this to be real. Fosterson is mentioned a bit, and it makes me smile a lot. | 5.1k

Paradigm Shift by jdphoenix: “Jane’s implementing a ‘new organizational paradigm.’ She does this like once a year, usually when she’s extra stressed. Like after that time your brother messed up NYC.” Rec: cute domestics plus Jane is worthy. | 1.5k

Raging Storm by jdphoenix: Thor knows the moment he touches the hammer that it is not Mjolnir. Rec: A brilliant continuation of Paradigm Shift (above, previously recced) wherein Jane bests Loki and is worthy, plus Jane talking down berserker!Thor. So many of my Fosterson hot buttons. | 4k

Overlap by littlestardust: A moment between Thor and Jane. Alternative summary: Thor is respectful of Jane’s life choices, and also there is cuddling. Rec: Teeny tiny fic, but super cute. | <1k

amazed & confused by tashlae: Dating an alien/god/man who fell from the sky isn’t something to take lightly. Rec: Jane/Darcy centric with lots of talk about fosterson and a kinda sweet moment at the end. | 1k

untitled by ifilovedyouless: jane/thor, modern royals. Rec: Oh my god, the sweetness overload was too much. Also YAS Thor in military uniform. | 1k

Fosterson - dancing by batsonthebrain: Rec: Introspective, sweet, and with a heavy dose of mutual respect. | <1k

Unplanned by hariboo: The first person to hear Jane is pregnant isn’t Thor. It should be, but extenuating circumstances. This happens a lot when it comes to living in Stark Tower. Rec: Very much toeing the crack line. Baby!fic, obviously, plus fabulous Clint, and a semi?redeemed Loki. | 1.2k

clash of the (scientific) titans by anthropologicalhands: Thor brings Tony to meet Jane. Thor admits he probably could have thought it through a little better. Rec: this fic always makes me giggle. Fosterson is mostly background, but the interactions between everyone makes this worth it. | 1k

Through Doors by nayanroo: The Jedi Order knows a good team when they see it, but unfortunately even the best-planned missions always have something go hilariously wrong. That’s when the true strength of any bond is shown. Rec: A Star Wars fusion is always a good idea. The way Jane and Thor play off each other and their bond through the Force is lovely. | 4k

Straight On 'Til Morning by arsenicarcher: Thor and Jane are having a baby. Tony’s conflicted about the whole thing. Rec: Kinda Tony-centric, but I’m always up for a fosterson baby. | 4.4k

hard to keep the rainclouds out by veliseraptor: Rec: A unique view on Thor’s grief and Jane’s struggle to be there for him. Very lovely, very angsty. | 2.1k

Perils of an RPF Life by hariboo: Look, it isn’t that she isn’t excited for Jane, sure she is. But Darcy wonders if Jane ever thinks about that. The fact she’s dating the sexiest E.T. ever. Rec: Darcy’s voice in this is hilarious and touching all at once. Jane and Thor’s caring for each other is so clear and endearing I audibly squeed a few times. | 2k

amazed & confused by tashlae: Dating an alien/god/man who fell from the sky isn’t something to take lightly. Rec: Jane and Darcy friendship is a lot of fun. Jane’s pondering of their relationship seems very characteristic of her. | 1k

On The Unsubtle Nature of Fish Ties by Niobium: Fancy clothes shopping for your alien boyfriend should be easier than this. Or, how Thor got his red velvet jacket. Rec: Fosterson is mostly background, but cute Jane/Darcy/Pepper interaction. | 3.3k

Be Safe by MissChrisDaae: Thor and Jane have a contingency plan for emergencies. Rec: Speculation/AU for Age of Ultron. Baby!fic, and is just so damn cute. | <1k

It All Happens Here by MissChrisDaae: Her very first year of teaching, Jane Foster gets an unusual bonus in the form of one of her students’ extremely attractive father. Single dad and his daughter’s kindergarten teacher au. Rec: super fluffy and just adorable. | 7.5k

Remembrance by Are_you_ever_not_going_to_fall_for_that: Thor and Jane take a walk and come across something that sparks memories. Post The Dark World. Rec: Jane and Thor talk about Loki, and the lack of heavy angst is refreshing. | <1k

Traffic jam by kes: When you’ve been fighting omnicidal aliens and the bureaucracy, a getaway is in order. Unfortunately, flying from A to B isn’t always possible… Rec: domestics. cute domestics EVERYWHERE. | <1k

nothing is ever convenient (except to make things uncomfortable) by anthropologicalhands: After Thor returns, there is still the matter of responding to Richard. Rec: The awkwardness of dealing with Richard made me smile. A very smile inducing fic. | 1.3k

Jane on Top by Rozilla: Jane Foster is asked to lecture at the SHIELD Academy, but she feels her old anxieties and worries begin to creep in- but it’s okay. Darcy has her back, not to mention it appears she has a fan club at the Science and Tech Division of the SHIELD Academy! Rec: An unapologetic Jane-fest, which is my favorite kind of party. Fosterson is background, but very relevant. Darcy is a cool friend. | 4.1k

leave this star crossed world behind by anthropologicalhands: Sif visits Jane with an offering. Rec: Jane/ Sif friendship, and they talk about immortality. Great interactions and insights on fosterson. | 2k

Measured Uncertainties by plushbug: Gap-filler, applying to the 2011 Thor movie. A shot at what might have gone missing from the rooftop scene between Thor and Jane Foster, after his 'rescue’ from the SHIELD base. Fits between “…and Asgard. That’s where I come from.” and “Thank you, Jane." Rec: A good fill for the movies, explains some comic-verse continuties. Curious Jane is a lovely person, and Thor relishes in giving her knowledge. | 4k

halfway between the gutter and the stars by verity: Thor pulls his phone out of his pocket and lifts it above them to capture a picture of the moment, their hair lit by the sun, Jane’s soft smile next to his beaming grin. The Rise filter suits the image perfectly. “I shall title this 'THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE,’” Thor says, typing carefully on the touchscreen. “With the small image of your planet, flanked by sparkling stars." "Well, we abandoned a geocentric model of the galaxy hundreds of years ago,” says Jane. "'THE CENTER OF MY UNIVERSE,’“ Thor says. He amends his caption and selects the options to crosspost from Instagram to Twitter and Facebook. Rec: Okay I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE this. So much. I love the world-building that Avengers + social media allows for. Also, cute Thor and Jane and team stuff plus Neil Degrasse Tyson and George Takei. So much good stuff. | 2.2k

Catalysts by Niobium: Meeting people winds up being a catalyzing event in Jane Foster’s life more often than not. Rec: Well-written Jane, and super supportive boyfriend Thor. I love it when he treats her like a genius. | 2.1k

The Reconstruction of the Mind by Niobium: Jane Foster’s introduction to astronomy doesn’t start with a backyard telescope or a shooting star or the arm of the Milky Way strewn across the nighttime sky, but with an Alexandrine woman named Hypatia. Rec: Jane-centric, and very well done, as per usual with this author. Fosterson is more background, but they have some lovely moments. | 4.6k

Asgardian Cautionary Tales for Young Maidens by Niobium: Jane discovers that Asgardian love stories aren’t exactly romcoms. Rec: Jane and Thor sharing love stories. I audibly squeaked at their cuteness. | 2.3k

the new millennia by hoosierbitch: Thor’s life was measured in centuries, not days. Rec: Post-Dark World, very Thor oriented and introspective. Jane helps him through his grief over Loki. Angst on angst. | 1.1k

the drumming inside her by hariboo: she can feel everyone looking at her, waiting for her to break or give up. they don’t understand. she made a promise too. Rec: oh my god Jane being determined, Thor pining a bit, Heimdall being awesome, and a super sweet reunion. | 1.3k

Starchild by empyrean: One night Jane teaches Thor the basics of Western astronomy, and Thor tries to describe Asgard. Then the Bifröst breaks, and Jane isn’t having that. Rec: Jane and Thor bond over the stars, and Jane doesn’t take it sitting down when the Bifrost breaks. Love the simplicity and the power in this. | 1k

There by Barkour: Jane has found Thor and in the finding, she has gone somewhere she’d never dreamed she’d see. Rec: Jane geeking out over Asgard, plus some really cute banter, and Thor being a gent as always. | 1.9k

Numbers and Lines by Sheeana: Jane Foster visits Avengers headquarters to help install a program she designed, and gets caught up in helping with their latest problem. Rec: Jane and Natasha get some great action together, and the Fosterson is handled well. | 4.9k

Important Meals of the Day by hariboo: or alternatively: Five Breakfasts With Jane and Thor and them feeding their family and friends. Which sometimes lately seem to be the same thing. Rec: domestics! Fluff that makes me want to stay there forever! I love this author’s way of writing fosterson. Also Darcy is so great in this. | 6.2k

Fire in the East by Maat: He finds that there are sweeter things than mead and glory and the fierce bright colors and rich textures of Asgard. Rec: Best Thor-being-on-Earth-longer fic that I’ve read. Short, poignant, sweet, and painful. This is beautifully written and left me wishing this was how the canon story could have gone down. | 1.1k

Few So Generous by galaxysoup: After Odin falls into the Odinsleep, Frigga takes up her husband’s spear and the rule of Asgard. Rec: Jane and Thor from an outside perspective, and a different version of events. Though the focus is not on fosterson outright, it is still a very good fic. | 2.7k

we fall like stars by jadeddiva: All that is left of him now is the extra chair pulled up to her makeshift fire pit, which she never sits in and hasn’t had the heart to move. Jane, and the search for Thor and a greater understanding of herself. Rec: A character study of Jane and how Thor affected her life. Lovely and poignant. Fluid writing style. | 3.1k

Not "Functional” or “Elegant” by Niobium: Jane Foster has worked some bad jobs in her career; working with Stark Industries’ R&D is a vast improvement. Rec: Jane-centric, and gives her a great backstory. She and Thor are adorable as always. The author clearly respects Jane as a scientist, so that shows through a lot, which is amazing. | 1.6k

Jane Foster’s High School Reunion by Niobium: Jane Foster has a high school reunion to go to. Rec: Jane and Thor are adorable. Thor is a gentleman, and Jane gets to laugh in the face of a jerk. Very satisfying. | 5k

Nature and Nurture by nayanroo: What’s better than solving a physics problem that may well get you another Nobel Prize nomination? Having a baby on the same day. Rec: Part of an amazing series (full rec with multichapter fics below) but can be read as a standalone. Featuring pregnant!Jane and adorable and far-too-accurate expectantfather!Thor. The fluff is lovely. Features all of the Avengers with some lovely domestics. | 7.4k | Part of in progress series, The Kingsverse

don’t we all want happy endings? by hariboo: Thor is thinking about Jane, Steve cares (because Steve has Feelings about Lost Lady Loves*), and in the end it’s a team effort. Rec: We get the closure on Thor contacting Jane after the events in New York. Sweet and painful and just lovely. | 3.4k

Legacy by me: A generation later, a budding social scientist tries to figure out Jane and Thor. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. Both Jane and Thor have passed away in this fic. | 2k

Rated T

**Heed the Signs by igi_pigi: Thor wakes up from a nightmare. Is it just a dream, or something more? [Post Thor2, Pre Thor3.] Rec: A heavy, meaningful setup to a Thor 3 that never was. | 4.8k

**Heartless by igi_pigi: Everything reminds her of him, it's funny. Wherever she looks, whatever she thinks of, usually and especially to get her mind off him, will eventually lead to him. [Set the night before Jane's date with Richard in Thor2.] For Day 6 of Fosterson Week - 'things that make you think of them' Rec: A really interesting and fabulous rumination from Jane about Thor’s impact on her life. | 1.4k

**Her Healing Touch by igi_pigi: Jane doesn't really realise that the Aesir are a bit relaxed when it comes to physical hurt. And freaks out over what Thor thinks are just petty bruises of battle. Ending with a little confession from Thor. [Set after Thor2] Rec: A neat take on Asgardian culture, love the way Jane’s care connected to Thor’s past. | 2.5k

**Qeryana by Domenika Marzione (domarzione): Thor and his efforts to live on Midgard, as opposed to just defending it. Rec: Thor’s visceral struggle of living in a culture not his own, but is ultimately still hopeful and positive. | 3k

**First and Foremost, Red by RC_McLachlan: There's a reason Jane and Thor break up. It's not a great one but it's the right one. In the year that follows, Jane carries on, doesn't win a Nobel Prize, defeats Thanos and saves the universe, and finally allows herself to be a little selfish. Rec: YAAAAAS I want ALL the Jane Saves Everything in Infinity War/Endgame fic. ALL OF IT. It’s so satisfying and good. | 9.7k

**Gangráðr, Faðmbyggvir Friggjar by tsukinofaerii: Less than a week before her wedding, Frigga warns Jane of ancient Asgardian rituals she and Thor must undergo before her marriage ceremony. Jane and Thor call on their friends for help as they face what might be the challenge of their lives. Rec: Just an absolute fucking delight from start to finish. Hilarious and amazing. Absolutely the best of the 2012-era Avengers fics. | 19.1k

The Courage of Stars by always_a_queen: Half the universe turns to dust. Thor goes to find the one person who is his whole universe. Thor/Jane Post-Infinity War and during/after Endgame. Spoilers for both movies and Ragnarok. Rec: god this is so heartbreakingly perfect. A wonderful fix it that gives a perfect little taste of what we might’ve had if Jane had been rightfully included in these movies. Jane does pass away at the end of the fic. | Content Warning: Major Character Death | 4.3k

Family Values by shinyopals: ‘It would have been kinder to leave me dead,’ Loki informs her one day. Jane Foster, who’s just revoltingly kissed Thor goodbye, told him she loves him, and called him a disturbing pet name, snorts derisively. ‘He brought you lunch; quit whining,’ she says. Loki isn't sure how he feels about his family, these days. Rec: The best take on Loki ever. His relationship with Jane is fabulous, and the interplay between him, Thor, and Jane is AMAZING. What a freakin treat this fic is. Post-Infinity War AU. | 3k

The Second Law of Thermodynamics by shinyopals: ‘What have you done?’ he asks. He still attempts to sound grave, but with Jane it is hard not to give into smiles.‘Done? I haven’t done, well. I mean. I have done some things. But it’s not bad. I was just curious! And nobody stopped me. I mean, they even welcomed me. So. I didn’t do-’‘Jane,’ he interrupts, laughing and leaning down to plant a kiss on her mouth. ‘You are absurd. I missed you. Tell me.’ Rec: Pardon me while I try to physically scream this fic into existence. It’s perfect. Jane loves science, and Thor loves Jane. Post-Thor 2. | 1.8k

Storm Warning by shinyopals: Then he strides to her and presses a kiss to her lips, taking her face in his hands as he does and holding her close. ‘You planned this?’ he asks. ‘Your morning’s work was not astrophysics, then?’She gives a guilty smile. ‘I wanted to, you know, surprise you.’ Thor gets ~romanced. He kinda likes it. Rec: GOD THE FLUFF. THE. FLUFF. PURE AND GOOD. | 3k

Sakaar by MissChrisDaae: Jane's been stuck on Sakaar for a year and a half. So Asgardians are a welcome sight. Rec: A really original way to get Jane involved in Ragnarok. Jane + science for the win. | 1.3k

Lab by MissChrisDaae: Thor likes spoiling Jane. Rec: For the Jane on Asgard day of Fosterson Week, a short and sweet lil tidbit! | <1k

Domesticity by MissChrisDaae: Little moments around Avengers Tower. Rec: I literally gasped in delight with how much this made me nostalgic for the fluffy Avengers Living in the Tower fics of 2012. | <1k

The Prince(ss) and Me by asoulofstars, MissChrisDaae: Prince Thor of Asgard just wants a little time to feel normal before he has to marry the mysterious Princess Jana of Ameos. So, he runs away from home and enrolls at Harvard University as Donald Blake, where he meets Jane Foster. Jane is clever, kind, and everything he wants, but can never have.Princess Jana of Ameos has spent her whole life studying incognito, getting the best global education possible under the alias of Jane Foster and trying not to think about romance, or the fiancé waiting for her back in Europe. Then Don Blake comes along and throws that plan out the window. Rec: A funky Modern Royals AU. Charming in some nice ways, and I like the slow-building tension. | 17k

Misunderstandings by writerblocked: She looks up at Thor, who grins warmly at her, and looks at their surroundings again. “This isn’t my apartment,” she says. Thor’s grin grows wider. “I know,” he says back. Rec: Newlywed!Fosterson fluff. | 1.8k

Turtures in Aeternum by shinyopals: ‘Legend tells that some unlikely souls are known to pause in their work for reasons of leisure,’ deadpans Thor. ‘History does not say what trials they faced.’ Asgardian science is giving Jane a headache. Thor persuades her to take a break to see some of the sights with him. Rec: Asgardian worldbuilding (literally) via Fosterson field trip. I love everything in this. | 5.5k

Five Times the Bad Guys Interrupted Thor and Jane's Date Night and One Time Tony Freaking Wishes They Had by shinyopals: ‘I have told Steve,’ Thor says to Tony as he’s leaving to go back to his rooms, ‘but I thought I should tell you also. Jane and I plan to institute the ritual of ‘Date Night’.’ As always, Thor sounds like someone’s severely uncool father trying to be hip when he uses any slang invented since the Civil War. Tony's been an Avenger long enough to avoid deliberately tempting fate, even if he doesn't actually believe in fate. The universe is just plain cruel. That's why he knows to be prepared for the worst Hydra can throw at them whenever Thor and Jane make evening plans. Rec: IT’S SO FUDGING CUTE. I CAN’T. IT’S CUTE AND HILARIOUS AND PERFECT AS ALWAYS. | 4.7k

Unexpected Arrival by shinyopals: ‘Jane-’ Thor cut himself off, opening and closing his mouth without managing words. Her name on his lips sounded so familiar; warm and deep and like nothing else mattered. An undercurrent of nerves there that she could still hear after all this time, that she didn’t think anyone else would be able to. She wanted to run to him, bury her face in his neck and jump back in time. Back before the break up - not enough time for each other with the universe in peril. Back before the baby. The baby she still sometimes wondered if she should have terminated to save them both this moment. Rec: The angsty and painfully yearning babyfic that you never knew you needed. | 2k

Steadfast as the Stars Above by jdphoenix: It was not meant to be like this. With him so small and weak, fighting every second to find purchase on a tiny world that spins faster than he can fathom. He wanted to be strong for her. Rec: A fabulous use of the Soulmate AU that completely slots itself perfectly into canon. | 8.3k

too poor for silver, i have a copper tongue by venndaai: “Maybe you don't have the perfect words all the time but, you always have something to say, right? You never have to, have to stop and think about it, and you never stumble over your words or anything.” He squinted at her. “I thought such things simply aspects of Midgardian speech, which you know I am not well versed in.” Jane sighed. “They're not supposed to be.” Rec: A story featuring an explicitly autistic Jane Foster. So wonderfully done. Full of empathy and love and kindness and warmth. | 1.3k

Gift by spikewriter: Jane looked at the brightly colored rug on the floor of the farmhouse in the Hudson Valley they were still moving into. “I like it,” she admitted with a bit more enthusiasm, picturing how her six-year-old self would have run screaming around the room in glee at such a gift. Rec: Some post-TDW fluff with bonus Darcy inclusion. | 1.5k

to candle incandescent as you pass by sweetwatersong: The legacy of King Tristan and the Star Queen Yvaine is not a mere tale in Stormhold, a fantastical portion of the kingdom's history. It lives and breathes in the blood of their descendants, in their long lives and graceful aging, in the ruling King Odin and his son, the Crown Prince Thor… Rec: A Stardust/Huntsman/Thor fusion that isn’t so much a full fic as it is, as the author describes, “a sketch.” Still a really lovely read, a great blend of the films. | 5k

Raiment of The Gods by randomcelt: They say the clothes make the man ... or the god. But sometimes, they do the most for his friends. (Or, a tale of all the times someone else wore Thor's clothes and the adventures necessitating such a development.) Rec: A great Thor character piece. A heavy emphasis on Thor + the team which I love. Runs you through the full gamut of emotions in the best way. | 10k

How to Quantify by Rozilla: It turns out Jane has a personal top ten list of favourite equations - and a nice expanse of hot Norse God to write them on. Rec: Super sweet and also contains the phrase ‘who said science never got you laid’ so. Yep. | 2k

this new bravery by hoosierbitch: For alfadorisawesome, who requested Thor/Jane “about to hook up with someone who doesn’t know.” This is my favorite piece so far. <3 Rec: Incredibly well done Trans Jane Foster. I am such a sucker for open lines of communication between partners, and that’s exactly what this is. Thor is incredibly sweet, and this story establishes his very nonbinary opinions on gender which I LOVE, but he still makes an effort to understand Jane’s experience. I love this fic so much. | 1k

The Hammer and the Ice by grav_ity: In the course of her short and mortal life, the heart of Jane Foster has been twice touched by the sons of Asgard. Rec: I adore AUs where Jane was in the Avengers. This is a short flashfic, but really lovely. | 1k

A Royal Wedding by MissChrisDaae and Science_Thunder_Lightning_Love: After three years, ten months, an alien invasion, a cosmic event, and a baby, Thor and Jane finally make it to the altar. Rec: Ridiculously cute fluffies. | 7.5k | Part of the Convergence series

The Thunder God Job by fuzzy_paint: Jane and Thor are thieves. Rec: Oh lawd, the AU I never knew I needed. Beautiful characterization with a rich world they’re placed in. I only wish it was 200 chapters. | 16.2k

there was a star danced by tosca1390: This is the familiar rhythm of her days; the coffee shop until one pm, five days a week, then class and the lab, then home or the library. Here, in her last year with a future dark ahead of her, she doesn’t see anything to change her ways. Jane and Thor, meeting at a coffee shop. Rec: College/Coffee Shop AU. Bless the AU gods. Sly little Shakespeare references. Thor and Jane being cute, sweet idiots. | 6.2k

Proximity Alarm by fayedartmouth: Thor comes back to Earth. Jane thinks it’s great. Except all the times it isn’t. Rec: It’s a great writing style. Jane and Thor are awkward, adorable, and passionate in a realistic way. Them navigating how to be together is a challenge that not all authors can rise to, so this is a great piece. So much yes. | 13.7

Never So Empty by iwillavengeyou: Thor has traveled the nine realms and seen many things in his centuries of godhood. What could possibly make everything seem so empty? Rec: Wow, just no. This hurts. This is not cool. Ow. Ow. Transcends angst and ends up somewhere much worse. Read if you’re into self-flagellation or are making a reclist. I literally yelled “Wow rude” at the conclusion of this fic. Major Character Death | 1.5k

An Ancient Gesture by Niobium: Jane and Thor come up with a tradition for dealing with situations where a social function gets to be a little too much for either of them. Rec: Super smiley, stomach flutter inducing fic. Fluff upon fluff, but also Asgard culture/worldbuilding! Yay! | 2.8k

Five Times Jane Kinda Sorta Accidentally Slept With An Avenger, The One Time She Didn’t, And the Many (Many) Times It Wasn’t Even a Little Accidental by shinyopals: Some people collect Avengers trading cards. Some collect action figures. Jane Foster, almost entirely without meaning to, has them all beat. Rec: If you’re not convinced by that title and summary, I’m not sure I can help you. Hilarious, in character, and kinda cute. | 9.3k

Well Remembered by Rozilla: Jane’s met Tony Stark before. Rec: Cracky and hilarious. | 1.1k

you may end up wanting more from this life by tosca1390: Everything is cold where it was once warm, and Jane is at a loss. Rec: Not sure why I haven’t put this beautiful thing on here yet. Deals with their separation, and a great character study of Jane. Angsty. | 1.6k

The Hearts of Stars and Thunder by MissChrisDaae, Science_Thunder_Lightning_Love: Rec: A Snow White and the Huntsman/Thor fusion. Really great use of characters, and all of the medieval battles and fosterson abound. | 7.7k

You Get One Phone Call by MissChrisDaae: Following the Battle of Manhattan, Jane gets a phone call. Rec: Post-battle strain, but then suddenly fosterson cuteness hits you like a wrecking ball. | <1k

Abs of Thunder by Unknownnobody32: During a flight on-board Stark’s jet, Jane learns how turbulence, pasta sauce, her Thunder god boyfriend, and his rock hard abs can soon become a recipe for embarrassment all thanks to bad timing. Rec: Takes washboard abs to another level. God, this is just too funny. | 2.1k

London, underground by Maybug: Clint Barton meets some familiar faces and has a very bad day hunting the jotunbeast left behind in London after the convergence. Rec: an awesome outside POV on fosterson, plus badass science Jane and her science assistant Thor, and awesome Clint. | 2.6k | Part of the Fosterson Files series

We have loved the stars to fondly by Maybug: Jane and Thor are up to something on the roof of the Tower. Tony thinks he knows what it is, but doesn’t see why he should be the one to tell them to stop. Rec: Outside POV of fosterson. Basically Thor does cute/dangerous things for Jane’s happiness. | 1.8k | Part of the Fosterson Files series

change places by coffeesuperhero: Jane and Thor get in the way of a Stark experiment. This goes about as well as you might expect. Rec: Body swap madness. So many cute moments though, plus some implied sexytimes with swapped bodies “for science.” So much yes. | 3.1k

Slowly, We Adjust by katsumi: Jane Foster leaves the lab on Friday exhausted, overworked, and petrified that she won’t get the grant proposal for her wormhole experiment finished in time to get funding. So, of course she gets rear-ended, because that’s just the kind of week she’s having. Rec: Protective/Worried Thor is best Thor. Reassuring Jane is best Jane. So much angst/cute. | 1.4k

Put a Ring on It by fuzzy_paint: Jane makes Thor a wedding ring. Rec: What it says on the tin. | 3.9k

The Pretty Birds Have Flown by beanarie: "Jane never pukes, not when she first wakes up, not at any other time of day. She has a cast-iron stomach and wicked stable inner ears, and morning sickness doesn’t stand a chance.“ The one where Thor knocked Jane up that night they chilled on the roof, and offscreen Frigga swore Heimdall to secrecy in the interest of protecting everyone involved. The All-Father’s house has a lot of enemies, okay. Rec: Heartbreaking, fluffy, and feelsy. Batten down the emotional hatches. | 2.2k

Jane Foster and the Impossible Library by Niobium: Jane, Darcy, and Thor find a peculiar library, and their afternoon takes a turn for the bizarre. Rec: This one’s wild from start to finish (I say that lovingly), but as always, Niobium delivers on fantastic characterizations. Not super-duper shippy, but so worth the read. | 12.4k | Part of the Jane Foster Works series

Northern Climes by Tyranusfan: Six months after the Avengers saved New York from the Chitauri invasion, Thor must convince Odin to return him to Earth. Rec: Jane and Thor doing cutesy couple-y things. The author captures well the eager awkwardness of a new couple while remaining true to their characters and story. | 4.3k

nowhere to go but up by anthropologicalhands: It is not uncomfortable, waking up with Thor’s arm draped over her waist, their legs entangled under the sheets. It is inconvenient when she wants to get out of bed or, at the very least, look over last night’s data. Rec: So very fluffy it makes me want to roll in it. Adorably domestic, too. Jane at her scienceing finest. | 2.3k

Late Night Waiting by hariboo: Jane didn’t often get home late. Rec: A very sweet and simple Jane/Thor that makes their relationship seem very grounded and real. Also, it is so sweet it makes my teeth hurt, and then I just want more. | 2.1k

Uru by sheffiesharpe: Thor cannot look after Jane, no matter how he wants to. Hogun offers a solution. Puente Antiguo receives another unexpected visitor. Rec: The author makes a really strange concept work brilliantly. Jane and Thor’s pining is frustrating and well-written, and the writing sizzles with unresolved sexual tension. | 6k

Star-Crossed by websandwhiskers: A vignette taking place during "Avengers”, after shawarma, before Thor returns to Asgard with Loki. Thor and Jane have their reunion, and discuss their future. Rec: Jane is an awesome person, and Thor respects the hell out of her. One of the best portrayals of Jane Foster that I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. | 1.7k

The Morning After by fuzzy_paint: "I can’t believe we’re doing this,“ Jane says. "Can you believe we’re doing this?" Rec: Even without much in way of dialogue, Jane and Thor’s devotion is plain. We get a little view of domestics, too. | 1.7k

The Observable Universe by Sarea Okelani (sarea): As an astrophysicist, Jane studies the observable universe for work, but in her free time what she likes to study is a bit closer to home. (Or: Jane has a low tolerance for stupidity. Clint and Natasha take exception to being called stupid.) Rec: Not a ton of overt Jane/Thor, and is mostly an outsider POV on Clint/Natasha, but there is lots of team shenanigans and there is definitely a lot of affection for Thor from Jane’s POV. | 10k

Deal by GreenVelvetCurtains: Jane introduces Thor to the great Midgardian tradition of being made to remove your clothing when you lose a hand of poker. Everybody wins! Rec: I got a huge kick out of this one. Toeing the line of becoming crackfic. Oh, how I wish there was a smutty follow up. | 2k

Before the Fall by verily-thor: Jane helps Thor prepare for Ragnarök. Rec: Oh god, if you’re in the mood for some sadness, come on in here. Tragic without being grotesque, stripping it down to the bare emotions, and two people who love each other more than anything. | <1k

top gun is not a movie; it’s a lifestyle by hariboo: jane and thor got that loving feeling. Rec: an AU that is reminiscent of Top Gun, which is a fab movie. Awesome Jane, and adorable Thor. | 2k

A Brief Introduction to Asgardian Dinner Parties by jonesandashes and pentapus:  This is the first Earth-Asgard bonding opportunity since that time Loki punched interstellar relations in the face, twice, and the king and queen of Asgard are here, and they are her boyfriend’s parents. Jane is absolutely not going to get drunk at this party, is the point. Rec: This fic makes you smile, then laugh, then cringe, then do it all over again. | 4.5k

Destiny, Disrupted by me: Loki never sends the Destroyer to Midgard. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 3.5k

Rated M (these won’t contain the smuts unless otherwise noted)

**The Teardrop by igi_pigi: Post-Infinity War reunion of Thor and Jane. Forewarning - heavy angst. [Set right after the movie] Rec: Angst, melodrama, and desperation ahoy. Contains some smut | 4.2k

all the best distractions by fuzzypaint: They've found a rhythm when they share Jane's lab, Jane with her science and Thor with his own work, and though it is easy to be distracted by each other, usually they're both very capable of avoiding such things. Usually. Rec: Cunniligus in the lab ;) | Contains smut | 1.8k

Patience and Poker by Rozilla: Jane and Thor sneak off from one of Stark's parties for a quiet chat. Nope, just kidding, hot tub sex. Snarky hot tub sex. Best kind. Rec: What it says on the tin and it’s delightful. | Contains smut | 4k

A Deal with the Duke: An Epilogue by hariboo: Thursdays were busy days around the house, but today was the first day of winter much. Thankfully, the skies were clear, without a hint of storm, but the wind was sharp and bit into his cheeks. He was looking forward to a warm meal and seeing his wife, curling around her in bed for rest of the evening. Rec: Historical romance AU. A nice slice of life bit. Contains minor smut | 2.8k

Ray of Light by evieeden: To Thor, Jane shone brighter than any star in the sky. Advent fic for 18th December. Rec: A sweet, introspective fic from Thor’s POV. | 1.5k

just memories to hold by tosca1390: When the dust and light and smoke clears, the roof of Stark Tower is still intact. Jane can still feel the surge of power in her fingertips, thinks she could hear the songs of Asgard, feel the chill of Jotenheim, as the bridge built itself through Yggdrasil, Thor calling her name across realms. And then, a shadow falls over Jane. Rec: A really, really great post-Avengers reunion fic. Contains some smut | 3.6k

set with the stars by hariboo: jane tries to teach thor earth’s stars. tries, being the operative word. Rec: Jane and Thor getting distracted by each others’ sexy is my favorite thing. Contains some smut | 1.5k

It Could Be Sweet by hariboo: Jane and Thor traverse their last year of high-school. However, they didn’t expect it to be together. Rec: I am not a big fan of high school AUs, but if they float your boat, this is definitely worthwhile. Contains some smut | 7.8k | Part of Let’s Be Young Forever series

Thunder Whispered Low by Niobium: Rec: I love it when Thor talks about his magic, and the bridge that makes between him and Jane. Contains minor smut | 1.5k

Specularity by Niobium: Jane’s bad day improves significantly with a little reflection. Rec: A great slice of life fic, really, really nice interactions. Contains very minor smut | 3k | Part of the Jane Foster Works series

My Blood is Singing by Niobium: Sometimes Thor pushes a storm a little too far. And, sometimes, the storm pushes back. Rec: Jane and Thor at their domestic finest, with some internal angst and the simple comfort found with another person. Contains smut | 2.9k

All my faces are alibis by agirlnamedchuck: Thor is strong and stubborn and she thinks she could be a good king. Maybe even a great one. Besides she’d never seen herself as queen anyways. Rec: Genderswapped Thor. Fosterson is minimal, but amazing insights into Thor’s character. | 6.5k

Leaving On An Airship by Rozilla: To escape to a better life, Jane Foster, maid to a cruel villainous Baron, must leave her lover and disguise herself. But not before one last goodbye. Rec: *cartwheels into the sun* FOSTERSON STEAMPUNK WITH SMUT AND FEELINGS OH GOD SEND HELP. Contains some smut | 2.6k

Unrememberance by letthesongtakeflight: Before he became the Huntsman, he was a prince. Rec: Marvel/Snow White and the Huntsman fusion. Prequel of sorts to SWatH. Angst on angst. Major character death | 1.2k

steal my heart 'til kingdom come by tosca1390: Her eyes stray over reading upon reading; she thinks she can taste the tang of energy and ozone even now, and that strange sense of pine and smoke that she associates with Thor. Rec: AU post-Avengers where Thor goes to visit Jane who has remained in New Mexico. Yay for a great collision of two characters who absolutely did not prepare for any of this. Contains some smut | 2.1k

fingerprints that leave me covered for days by tosca1390: It is not all lost, to be stranded here. Perhaps, he could make something of it. Rec: Another AU in which Thor is on Earth longer in the first movie. Great development for Thor, and the relationship he has with Jane feels very real. | 5.5k

journeys end in lovers’ meeting by tosca1390: Solitary moments in snow; it sounds conducive to rest, to a time of rejuvenation before her research resumes. Rec: A really cute AU based on the movie The Holiday (which I’ve never seen before). Just adorable holiday fluff wherein Thor is human. Contains some smut | 19k

Bound by Medie: It was ironic that his and Loki’s greatest mistakes had led to her. Rec: Some tame bondage featuring dom!Jane. Contains smut | 1.1k

Rated E (these will contain the smuts unless otherwise noted)

**Ambush by orphan_account: Jane isn't into violence, but there's something about those SHIELD debriefings, something primal and raw about hearing how the bad guys got their asses handed to them by the good guys, something that inspires her to act on instinct alone. Rec: If you’ve got a thing for Thor’s armor.... mmmhmmm. | 1.1k

Is This More than You Bargained for Yet by Anshin Archives: Thor and Jane's first go at sex. Jane's expecting Thor to have a cock, and is surprised when he doesn't. It doesn't take her long to adjust. (Pure porn for the excuse of writing Thor with a vagina.) Rec: Genderfluidity and completely accepted queerness for the win. | 2.5k

When Jane Pegged Thor by waldorph: They raise them slutty in Asgard. Rec: What it says on the tin. Pretty damn hot if pegging is up your alley ;). | 1.4k

Practical Magic by Rozilla: Freya’s flowers can do funny things to you. Rec: Roz is the queen of smut so this is amazing. Kind of a play on sex pollen, but takes it in a totally new, refreshing direction. Asgardian sex magic for the win. | 2.8k

built on the old rivers by fartherfaster: You catch her wrist and delicately kiss the bone of it. “Nothing to be sorry for,” you tell her. She composes her reality in absolutes and theories and the true phenomenal names of things. Colloquial language is not her means of communication. You like her hard lines, her curiosity, her determination. Jane would never call Mjolnir just a hammer, and that puts a small, needy part of you to rest. There is a storm in the desert, and Thor comes to terms with all of his changes. The one where human-Thor has Lichtenberg figures. Rec: Incredibly poignant and the author makes a second-person POV work incredibly well. | 3.3k

Tell Me Something New by hariboo: "Compile the data of the reading we took during Convergence. The gravitational–“ She trails off, can’t finish the sentence out loud or in her mind, her voice catching on the words as Thor’s mouth latches onto her throat. Rec: Cute and hot and perfect because smart Jane is Thor’s biggest turn on. | 1.5k

On the Throne by murdur: His insistence that she should sit on the throne had been in jest and merriment, but the sight of her sitting upon the seat now makes his heart beat quick and steals his breath. Rec: Oh my god, Thor goes down on Jane while she sits on the throne of Asgard. I have nothing else to say. *dies* | <1k

Experience Counts for Something by Rozilla: Jane was surprised at Thor’s new female body- but pretty keen to explore it. Rec: Bisexual Jane and Genderfluid Thor are great. Some hot femslash fosterson. | 2.3k

Just Get In The Van by paxnirvana: Written for a prompt on Anenko’s Bad Sex & Awkward Romance: a comment-a-thon that got away from me. Rec: All first time sex is gonna be awkward, friends, even if you’re Jane and Thor. Might as well enjoy the ride. | 6.3k

close your eyes and count to ten by fuzzy_paint: Post battle, Jane and Thor make sure the other still lives. Rec: Reassurance of safety sex is hot. Sue me. Still manages to be angsty too. | 2.4k

We Woke Up In The Kitchen by hariboo: He didn’t think he could miss someone as he missed her, but there is something singular in Jane that pulls at him and threatens to overtake him. Rec: post-TDW sexies that are adorable and awkward and hot all at once, plus some really nice conversation at the end. This author just really gets Jane and Thor in a way that is always awesome to read. | 3.7k

A Helping Hand by fuzzy_paint: Jane can’t sleep. Thor has a solution. Rec: Some nice, cute sleepy!smut to help Jane to relax and stop thinking. | 1.5k

The Scientific Method by Serious Snugglebunnies: Thor is much too honourable to have meaningless sex with Jane - but will he do it for the sake of science? Rec: Cracky, hilarious, and hot. | 3.3k

A Thorny Situation by GreenVelvetCurtains: Jane has a problem and she’s not afraid to try and solve it. Rec: A hot fantasizing/masturbation piece starring the lovely Jane Foster. | 2.7k

Detours by ancarett: Life is a highway. Jane takes Thor on the detours. Missing moments from the movie. Rec: Some mildly awkward sex which is actually kind of adorable and works out for everyone in the end. Not my favorite smut ever, but worth a read. | 3.9k

Say It’s Okay by theleaveswant: Darcy gave her a sympathetic pout and walked around the table to put both hands on Jane’s upper arms. “Okay. Honey? I know this isn’t your preferred way of handling things, but it looks like you’re going to have to talk with him.” Rec: Big premium on 'consent is sexy.’ Jane teaches Thor how to pleasure her. Not my favorite smut, but worth a read. | 2.1k

Accretion by RC_McLachlan: "You are burning inside,” Thor whines, rolling his hips again, and she rides it out helplessly, eyes rolling back, lungs cramping with envy for air. “Like a star." Rec: A seriously hot look at the simple difference in size between Jane and Thor. | 1.6

Salt On Your Lips by Barkour: The strawberry daiquiri is indeed a drink worthy of adulation, but Thor prefers the taste of Jane Foster. Rec: For it’s sense of fun that comes with the sex, and the pure happiness of two people who simply enjoy being in each other’s company. | 2k

Good Morning by me: Jane wakes up with Thor between her legs.My addition to Fosterson Week’s smut day. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 2k

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year by me: Jane and Thor do Christmas. (Finally.) Tis the season for holiday smut. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 5.4k

Your Highness by me: Jane wants something in bed and Thor is more than happy to oblige. For the first day of Fosterson Week, post-TDW. Rec: It’s not a true reclist without a self plug. | 6k

Not Your Average Star Trek Fanfiction by me: After several years of unresolved sexual tension, Jane and Thor are in quite a rush to rectify the situation. Takes place immediately following TDW. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 3.7k