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lylian333 · 6 months ago

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~YANDERE LUKA X READER~

(this story may have changes soooo yeah but in the future I'll edit it to make it as perfect if I can )This is also before wiege

WARNING: yandere, toxic relationship, read at your own risk, sexual assault,I need to touch grass and prey to god after this, noncon, weird siblings love(Luka isn't obsessed with hyuna in this story), if there other that I didn't contain please let me know

The first thing you ever see and remember is luka , he's always been there whenever you sad or happy he's always been there. Thankfully you both are taken in by an alien that wants you both to start calling him father , but to you as long as luka is there you'll feel safe.

Since the start you have always seen him as your brother he even knows about that, but perhaps he saw in a different way . you can even say he took advantage of you for being dumb and naive

Both of you are artificially bred but the end result came out quite differently especially health problems are the complete you are considered healthy perhaps even have a stronger immune system than others, while your brother is the opposite since he has asthma, and chronic migraines already.

before you both were send to Anakt Garden you both gown up with robots trying to teach and take care of both of you but the ways of it are scary and it is too much of a business that they would even care on how you smile and how you laugh .

But there are quite a few similarities between you both hate paparazzi like you guys like eating, sucking, and biting on things to satisfy you both hunger you both gown up with huge appetites as well and cause your father to worry about it and he starts giving us less food which to this day you curious that how you habits have begun.

Sometimes you both wanted to pass the time faster you both would cuddle but just cuddling tho there would be biting and touching at least your body wasn't comfortable with it but luka told you to just brush it off and you'll get used to it. this would only happened in private not waiting father or even anybody to find out about this just between you too. slowly the cuddle went from biting to kissing to even touching at weird spots but like luka said" just blush it off you'll get used to it after all you don't to make me upset do you ,dear ?"

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After that, you both were then sent to Anakt Garden father said it's the first step of your career you both are scared at first but at least you both got each other right? well luka health is kinda slowly getting worse there , and the other children's there kinda treat luka poorly because of his health but you always protect him by chasing the others away.

Not only that father give both of you guys top professionals to keep us well educated and healthy.

Time goes by in a blur, and with every passing day, you can feel the pressure of the competition looming over you both.The training is intensive and harsh, involving physical and mental conditioning to create the perfect idols. But they did have a playtime even so the daily routine consists of rigorous practice and training .

one day,while watching the other kids playing on the other side you and luka were playing with cube and seeing who can do it faster.two person came up to you both when you both look up they smile back and introduced themself" hello my name is hyuna and my younger brother is hyun woo do you guys want to be our friends and play?"

you look at luka waiting for him to make a decision he nod and your really happy about it cause you rarely see siblings and plus their very friendly not only that turns out that hyun woo is the same age as you while hyuna is the second oldest and luka the oldest.

After that day you guys would often hang out together you even started quit seeing them as part as your siblings because of how caring, kindful, and protective they are.

And slowly you start gaining feelings for hyun woo not just any feelings but a really special one even more special than luka and you.Hyun woo would often make a bouquet of flowers or flower head crowns just for you , he would also care for you talk to you a lot, and entertain you which you really enjoy. he would even help you to practice your vocals so that you wouldn't mess up in case and just overall a happy ball full of fun. and perhaps you can even say that you enjoy hyun woo accompany more then luka ones but maybe luka have caught on to you and hyun woo relationships.

About a year later of this at one day, after playing around you guys have gotten tried and decide to rest well hyuna go get some water you and hyun woo decide to lay down together perhaps even call it as a cuddle? Slowly you dive into sleep.

The next thing you knew when you woke up was you hear fighting??? you git confuse and rub your eyes and got up seeing what's going on.turn out it was luka and hyun fighting they rarelt fight even if they did it's usually luka who wanted to find trouble or he just didn't know about it but this fight is not like others it not playful it's like luka actually trying to hit hyun woo before you can fully process what to do luka use all his might and push hyun woo on the group causing him to accidently hit a rock.

Seeing that you instantly push luka causing him to fall on the ground when you turn around to check if hyun woo is okay but you notice his head is b-bleeee-bleeding , him not moving at all not even an inch

Hyuna came into the scene as well screaming" What's going on here and-...Hyun woo-"she stood there speed looking dumbfounded then robots and alien staff came in while hyuna was trying to leave his brother alone you turned around to your brother about to scream at him for what he did but you notice that he's hand is c-changing color-? it's was supposed to be- no not never purple you kneel against him confused picking up his finger and touching it not understanding what's going on why is so many things happening at once

You finally spoken out "luka why...?"

Hyuna kicked and screamed at all her might to put down her brother but the robots just pushed her away and the alien staff held her back she was madly crying. you wanted to go comfort her but when you were about to move luka held you tight "Don't leave me yet I'm not feeling well, sister" he said as he hold you tightly.

Ever since that day, hyuna has grown to have a negative sentiment to luka but even you can't blame her for what she has to be.

One peaceful night well sleeping, you got woken up by hyuna shacking your body trying to silently wake you up"(y/n) Follow me now" she whispered into your ear

'"Where are we going?"

"We're going to escape from this place from our owners and from this living hell, now come on we don't have much time left"

She then pulls your hand out of bed and starts running. You have so many questions in your head but before you can ask any question hyuna pulls you down onto the ground hiding from cameras and security "(y/n) , you may be confused right now but I'll explain to you when we both get out of here please escape with me you're the only person I trusted even after the incident. But please wake up there are many dark secret about this place and the future career all you have to do is just follow me and run across the field climb up a gate and get out"

Part of you wanted to listen to hyuna and escape this living hell and owners of a place but half of you wanted to stay with your older brother and is afraid that luka would be weak and may be left out .....

In the end you choose to escape for your own good for your own freedom and rights. You nod to hyuna who's smile at you and nod back understanding

You both slowly craw out of your hiding spot till one of you got caught by the camera and robots . you both run you tried keeping up to her speed . the alarms were to on alarming the others that the children's are escaping .

Some robots even try shooting you guys down but it can't . Hyuna begin to climb the gate to escape while screaming"(y/n) you can do this just trust me!"

Half way there you feel a strong pull at your leg and caused you to slip down and hit your head on the gate and the ground before you pass out from the pain you ever last encountered with her just looking down at you from the top with her sad and hopeless expression before she keeps going

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When you woke up you woke up your realized that you were not in the Anakt Garden bed you were in your home bed with luka on the side hugging you. You were curious and confused and eve scared that father would punish you. When trying to move you feel a sharp pain causing you to moan uncomfortable causing luka to wake up"Finally you woke up dear after a few days without you feel horrible but it's fine our owner has taken us back to home"

Hearing that makes you remember what happened you feel like you are disappointed in yourself you feel horrible for letting yourself down why are you so stupid there is nothing you can do but shed tears hugging your brother.

~Timeskip many years later~

You were sitting on the bed waiting for Luka to return from round 5 you both may be singers but never in the same stage or competition for both of your sake. Your competition was over with you winning and nothing surprising from what has happened multiple times in the past. But how do they manage to hold different competitions and different members at once.

Then you hear the door open, luka enters with his face injury and black eyes it's not your first time seeing this but every time you do it reminds you of the past...

Luka sat on the couch waiting for you to grab equipment to help with his injury. when you did he pulled you to sit on his lap "You're the only thing I want your life is mine and need I miss spending time with you like in the old days....why don't we cuddle again like how we used to maybe more intense now since you gown up right now a baby anymore..." he chuckles cupping your cheek

there hasn't been an ending yet sooon I came up with my own for now and maybe in the future I'll edit it better bc I only have one week left before my fucking important ass exam(please pray for me) .But I just fell into the fandom bc of the edit it's so good man and I'll also try understanding the concept alright I know this is really mess up but still...anyways thanks for reading

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geneviveleocardius · 4 months ago

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sevika’s journey to motherhood

wlw

sevika never imagined herself in this situation—married, settled down, and now about to be a mom. when you first talked about having a baby, she hesitated. not because she didn’t want it, but because she wasn’t sure she deserved it. but the moment she saw the positive result, she swore to herself she’d give you and the baby the world.

she keeps her affection low-key but constant. she isn’t one for big, dramatic gestures, but you’ll notice the way she starts keeping healthier snacks in the kitchen (even though she complains about how boring they are), how she always carries an extra blanket for you on the couch, or how she’s suddenly interested in researching baby stuff online (though she grumbles about the “stupid forums”).

sevika makes sure the apartment is baby-proofed well before you even hit your third trimester. you laugh when you find her arguing with some handyman she hired about how “these outlet covers are trash,” but she’s dead serious about making the place safe.

she’s not outwardly soft, but her actions speak volumes. she doesn’t say much when you’re feeling nauseous or exhausted, but she’ll quietly rub your back, hold your hair, and bring you water without needing to be asked. she also won’t let you lift a damn thing once your belly starts to show.

during your pregnancy, she works fewer hours, despite hating to take time off. she doesn’t say it’s because of you, but it’s obvious. “can’t trust those idiots to handle things while i’m gone,” she mutters, but she’s home almost every night for dinner now, something she rarely did before.

when she feels the baby kick for the first time, she freezes. you tease her for looking so stunned, but you can see the emotions she’s trying to hide. later that night, you catch her resting her hand on your belly while she thinks you’re asleep, a rare, unguarded moment of pure tenderness.

once the baby is born, sevika is more hands-on than you expected. she’s a natural at holding them, rocking them to sleep, and she insists on taking over night shifts when she’s home because “you’ve been through enough already.”

she’s fiercely protective of both you and the baby. the moment someone so much as raises their voice in your apartment, her glare alone could silence them. “this is my family,” she says firmly. “no one messes with that.”

despite her gruff exterior, sevika is surprisingly gentle with the baby. she talks to them in a low, soft voice while changing their diaper or feeding them, and you’ve caught her humming under her breath while holding them in the rocking chair.

her favorite moments are when the three of you are together. whether it’s a quiet evening on the couch or a rare weekend where she doesn’t have to work, she’s happiest when you’re all there, safe and content. she’ll never admit it out loud, but it’s the most at peace she’s ever felt in her life.

sevika has always liked adding glitter to her cigars—it’s a strange but oddly charming habit. but once you’re pregnant, she quits it cold turkey. “i don’t want that stuff getting anywhere near you or the baby,” she says gruffly. she even starts avoiding wearing heavily scented cologne, just in case.

sevika’s biggest fear after the baby is born is accidentally hurting them with her prosthetic arm. when you hand the baby to her for the first time, she hesitates, staring down at her mechanical hand like it’s an alien thing. “what if i’m too rough? what if i hurt them?” she mutters. it takes a lot of reassurance—and a quiet, heartfelt moment when the baby grabs one of her fingers, metallic and all—for her to start trusting herself.

when you suggested the reciprocal IVF method, sevika had a moment of vulnerability. “you really want my kid growing inside you?” she asked, voice low, almost disbelieving. the idea of combining your DNA with hers made her feel more connected than she could put into words, though she didn’t say that outright. after the procedure worked, she was in awe—and also ridiculously smug. “looks like we make a good team,” she’d say with a smirk, though you could see the pride in her eyes.

sevika teases you mercilessly about your cravings but secretly loves indulging them. she’ll grumble about how ridiculous it is to find fresh strawberries at 2 a.m., but she’ll still show up with a basketful. when you catch her snacking on the leftovers, she’ll just shrug and say, “figured i should see what all the fuss is about.”

you weren’t the only one nesting. sevika pretended she didn’t care much about decorating the baby’s room, but she’d come home with little things—a mobile, a soft blanket, even a tiny stuffed animal that looked suspiciously like the one she used to have as a kid.

she wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it, but you found her poring over baby books late at night. “i’m just checking something,” she said gruffly, shutting the book when you walked in. but you noticed her making mental notes about things like swaddling techniques and babyproofing hacks.

when your contractions started, sevika was unshakable—or at least she tried to seem that way. she held your hand through every step, though you could see the tension in her jaw. she hated seeing you in pain but didn’t leave your side for a second. when the baby finally arrived, she was speechless. the only words she managed were a low, reverent, “you’re amazing,” as she held your hand tightly.

sevika takes postpartum care seriously. she makes sure you’re eating, sleeping (as much as possible), and not overexerting yourself. “you’re not doing this alone,” she tells you firmly. she’s the type to massage your back after a long day or remind you that it’s okay to cry when things feel overwhelming.

the first time the baby laughed was because of sevika. she was making a silly face—completely out of character—and the sound of the baby’s giggles was enough to make her stop and blink, caught off guard. you swore you saw her eyes get a little misty, though she’d never admit it.

despite her rough exterior, sevika starts creating traditions for your little family. movie nights where she insists on holding the baby, cooking dinner together (she’s surprisingly decent in the kitchen), and quiet mornings where she lets you sleep in while she takes the baby for a walk.

when you both take the baby out for the first time, sevika is on high alert. her eyes scan every stranger, her body instinctively positioning itself between you, the baby, and the crowd. she even growls at someone who bumps into the stroller. “relax,” you whisper, but you can’t help feeling a little safer with her there.

sevika isn’t the type to get overly sentimental, but she does think long and hard about what the baby should call her. eventually, after some quiet reflection, she decides on “mama”—simple and solid, just like her. she likes the sound of it, and the thought of her kid calling her that makes her chest tighten in a way she can’t quite explain.

as for you, she insists on “mommy” (or whatever variation you prefer). she thinks it fits your nurturing nature perfectly and secretly loves the idea of hearing the baby call you something soft and sweet.

when the baby starts babbling “ma-ma” first (completely by accident), sevika acts casual, but you can tell she’s beaming with pride inside. still, she’ll tease you if “mommy” comes out soon after. “guess they love us both equally,” she says with a smirk, though you can see the softness in her eyes.

#arcane #league of legends #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika league of legends #wlw post #sevika x reader

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gksweetdreams · 2 months ago

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Caught in a Web

Sinister Mark x Reader

Here’s part 2 I felt really inspired and kind of fell in love when writing and creating it so I hope you enjoy it and I hope you like the way this story is moving along :)

The world was chaos. Different variants of Mark Grayson were tearing each other apart, destroying the cities and killing innocents. Some of the Marks were heroes, some villains—others barely more than mindless beasts. But Sinister Mark? He stood still; eyes still locked onto her.

Y/N had fought many threats before like gangs and alien invaders—but something about him unsettled her. He wasn’t like the other Marks, blinded by rage or loyalty to the Viltrumite empire. No, there was something else behind those eyes.

A memory.

And love...

She fired a web to the side of a crumbling skyscraper and swung away, her senses screaming to put distance between them. She didn’t trust that look he was giving her—the kind that made her spidey senses go off and give her a headache.

The kind of look where it felt like she belonged to someone she had never even met.

But Sinister Mark wasn’t about to let her go so easily.

In an instant, he was right beside her in the air, flying. His cape blowing behind him, and despite the destruction around them, he looked almost… calm… too calm

“Running already?” His voice was smooth, teasing. “You’ve fought aliens before, haven’t you? You don’t strike me as the type to back down.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, and he continued

“My Y/N always faced issues head on… maybe that’s why she died”

Y/N twisted mid-air, firing another web toward him. But this time, she reinforced it with electricity, her version of a venom blast.

Sinister Mark caught it—again—but this time, the energy crackled up his arm, his jaw clenching from the pain. Yet instead of anger, a smirk played on his lips.

“There she is.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted. Why did it sound like he knew her? She hated it…

“Alright, buddy, listen,” she said, flipping onto a nearby rooftop annoyed. “I don’t know what kind of tragic backstory you’ve got, but I am not her.”

Sinister Mark landed with a soft thud; arms crossed over his chest. “I know.”

That caught her off guard. Not expecting him to just agree.

“I know you’re not my Y/N,” he continued, stepping closer. “She’s gone. I lost her. And before you ask—no, I wasn’t the one who killed her.” His fists clenched slightly. “But I should have stopped it.”

Y/N’s spider-sense tingled—not from danger, but from something else. He wasn’t lying. His pain was real.

For a brief second, her mind flickered to her own Mark—her version of Invincible, the one she fought beside. Would she be standing here, looking at him in another life, if things had gone differently?

She shook the thought away.

“Look, I get it,” she said, keeping her distance. “Loss changes people. But don’t mistake me for a second chance.”

Sinister Mark exhaled through his nose, almost like a laugh. “Who said I was?”

Another scream could be heard leaving no time for Y/N to respond. One of the more savage Marks—scarred and monstrous—ripped through the battlefield below, his bloodstained eyes locked onto hers from the distance.

Sinister Mark’s expression darkened.

“Get behind me,” he ordered.

Y/N scoffed. “Yeah, no. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can.” His gaze flicked to her web-shooters, the subtle twitch of her fingers, the way her body tensed. She was already calculating a hundred ways to take down the incoming threat. And he found himself... fascinated. It was strange to him how this Y/N and his Y/N were so similar but yet so different.

Then the monstrous Mark variant lunged.

Y/N moved first, flipping into the air, dodging a powerful punch that shattered the rooftop. She fired a web at his face, pulling herself toward him to deliver a venom-charged punch—only for him to catch her mid-air.

Her breath hitched as she felt his grip tighten.

Before she could react, a blur tore through the sky.

Sinister Mark hit him like a meteor.

The monstrous variant barely had time to register what happened before Sinister Mark grabbed his head and slammed him through the rooftop, sending them both crashing into the streets below.

Dust and debris filled the air.

Y/N landed gracefully on the edge of the destruction swiping her hand left to right to move the smoke they both caused, heart pounding.

Sinister Mark stood over the now-dead variant; his fist still embedded in the pavement. Blood dripped from his knuckles—none of it his own.

He flew back to her, the expression unreadable.

Y/N crossed her arms. “I had that.” Trying not to act like that didn’t just give her the scare of a life time.

Sinister Mark wiped the blood from his knuckles. “I know.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Then why step in?”

His lips quirked up into a smirk. “Because I wanted to.”

A beat of silence passed between them, heavy with something neither wanted to name.

Then he took a step toward her.

Y/N tensed but didn’t move.

“I won’t pretend you’re her,” he said, voice quieter now. “But you are... something. And I don’t ignore things that make me feel alive.”

She swallowed.

“Careful,” she murmured. “You might start sounding like a hero.”

Sinister Mark chuckled. “Unlikely.”

Above them, the sky continued to crackle with energy. The war between variants wasn’t over yet.

But for the first time since arriving in this reality, Sinister Mark wasn’t just looking for a fight.

He had found something far more dangerous. Something that made his heartbeat again…

Something he wasn’t sure he could walk away from…

And Y/N didn’t know what to think.

Thank you for all the love and support!! It truly amazed me, and I am really happy everyone liked part 1. Sorry once again for the grammar and I hope everyone enjoys this story as much as I like writing it :)

← Previous Part | Next Part →

#invincible #spiderman #invincible variants #invincible mark grayson #invincible x reader #fem reader #invincible season 3 #invincible show #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you

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omgfangirlland · 3 months ago

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The Shadows That Nurture 6

Enjoy Chapter 6! Ch8 will be a look into what has been happening in Ghotam and Ch9 will probably follow the first episode of Invincible.

We're slowly approaching the main timeline age, so if ya'll want a specific character to make an appearance or would like to see a specific plot line this is your time to speak now or forever remain silent /j

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 6 >>next

He is crazy- he can’t just- He-!

You couldn’t even know where to begin telling what happened. One moment you were relaxing, enjoying the sun, living the dream- and then this old, 6 feet and 2 inches of pure muscle, alien-man thing just up and kidnaps you. Omni-Man kidnapped you with a simple “Hello, kid. Let’s go home.” You were more shocked than angry, to be honest, the man was just spewing nonsense as he flew you across the states.

Now, Nolan wouldn’t call it kidnapping- why, he’d never! He was just- cleaning up the streets, helping a homeless kid, even though he knew where she lived- it was adopting without all the other steps!

He was meticulous in his watching, not stalking, but watching, observing. When Cecil first called him, bringing to his attention a mysterious flying person coming and going from NYC, he was ready for a villain, an alien preparing to overtake NYC, anything but a tween kid shakily flying, almost hitting buildings and nearly being taken down by other flying heroes.

He knew she was no threat; he told Cecil as much- but he kept coming back. Something kept making him come back, just to look, to make sure she didn’t hurt herself or others- he kept telling himself. He knew deep inside why he came back every day for a year, it was the same reason why he married Debbie, it was the same reason why he couldn’t bring himself to hate his son.

Sure, she was living well, but the food she ate, if she remembered to, wasn’t sustainable, she needed home-cooked food, she needed socializing and training, she needed- she needed a family and stability. Nolan took the initiative to pack her bags and everything in her little apartment and move her into his and Debbie’s house, in the room next to Mark’s. And then, he took her.

You didn’t put up much of a fight if one at all, but really what could you say or do when Omi-Man has deemed you his and his wife’s kid, the man spoke of her highly, his son too, but still- He kidnapped you, you wouldn’t just stay- “And Debbie is making this roast beef with baked potatoes-“…

Some would call you weak, others would say you can be easily bought, but this was the greatest roast beef you had tasted in a long while. “This is amazing food, Mrs. Grayson.” You could play along for a while. The woman just smiled and thanked you, insisting on you calling her Debbie. The offer of ice cream made you sure you could play along for a long while.

She wasn’t initially happy with Nolan coming with a random kid under his arm, but one look at your disheveled appearance and wide eyes made her rethink everything. A daughter wouldn’t hurt, two kids would make the house happier, and you reminded her of those scuffed up little kittens, she didn’t have it in her to let you go without a meal at least.

Over dinner, you answered every question they threw at you, from your name to Mark asking if you like comics, but when they asked your age, you just shrugged. “Around 13-14? Can’t quite remember, I haven’t celebrated my birthday ever, mom just told me how old I was and then-“ Your body went rigid.

You were telling too much, getting too comfortable- but, maybe this was your chance at a true family. Can’t back down now, you could always just leave if you really wanted. The two adults understood as soon as you tensed up, Debbie immediately acting as her hand soothingly rubbed at your shoulder and back while they let you decide whether to continue or change the subject. “She died when I was five.”

She smiled at you softly, apologizing for prying and giving their condolences, something not even Alfred did. All Nolan saw was an opportunity to grab you and never let go, to give you what the father that clearly wasn’t in the picture never gave.

Mark just grabbed your wrist, a sad frown on his face. “I can share my parent with you. I know I’d be sad if mom or dad were gone. We can be siblings!” His bright smile was contagious, making you smile just as bright before your hopeful eyes met Debbie’s. She was sold a while back, as soon as you called her pretty while calling Nolan a bum and asking how she had the misfortune of marrying a brute, making the man grumble as he sat you on the couch, your hopeful glance just set it in stone.

Despite having a room all to yourself, you wanted to push. They were different to the Waynes, that was clear. They were warmer, talked to you, and it all felt so much better. So, you wanted to test the water by asking Mark if he’d be willing to share his bedroom with you tonight, not wanting to be alone. Not when you had the opportunity to soak in any attention they give you.

The boy was excited to have a sleepover in his room, eager to show you all the comics and toys he had- and neither Debbie nor Nolan could say no. Not to two pairs of puppy eyes. The adults were sure this weakness to saying no wouldn’t last… Hopefully.

Spending the night with Mark was amazing, it was everything you thought Dick and the other would give you. He showed you all his comics, letting you read all of them, and as the night settled and the stars were high in the sky you taught him about them. In the end, you both fell asleep in the pillow fort you made, comic books lying open around you. Your plans of escape quickly went out the window, this family thing with them felt like it was worth trying. You liked NYC, but maybe Chicago is where you belonged. And if the adults heard you two giggle and fuss around all night, they didn’t say anything.

By next week you were a Grayson, thanks to Cecil’s string-pulling. Looks like Nolan knew exactly what to say to make the man agree.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple

my greatest fear is misspelling a name and tagging someone who has never seen this 🫠

#dc crossover #dc x invincible #invincible crossover #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x neglected reader #yandere invincible #neglected reader #yandere batfamily #female!reader #fem!reader #yandere!nolan grayson #platonic yandere #yandere!mark grayson #yandere!debbie grayson

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cuteandhughesy · 4 months ago

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I’m Talking Nonsense | Mikko Rantanen

summary: everyone in the avalanche social media room knows that getting mikko rantanen to participate in content was a lost cause—that is until you showed up.

[word count] 4.3k

a/n: okay…so obviously I started writing this before the trade—because nobody in their right mind was expecting mikko to get traded. but I digress, anyways! I originally wanted to post this on valentine’s day but in this moment of sadness, I knew all the mikko girls (myself included) needed this pick me up ❤️ to all you liking my old mikko fic—I see yall and we got this.

🎵 nonsense by sabrina carpenter

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

mikko rantanen didn't hate social media — actually, no he did hate it. the finnish native always knew it to be invasive and impersonal, and he'd rather not have to look at fake happy, posed pictures and videos that make his life feel less than. and that's coming for a guy living as a professional athlete.

so when tiktok started gaining more traction and other nhl teams were making accounts for their respective teams—mikko was dreading it. he thought there was a level of privacy that should be respected, and having a camera shoved in your face is totally breaching boundaries. the thought of the avalanche making an account was just not something he wanted.

after a shitty practice—hell even a good practice—the last thing he wanted was to be asked if he thought he could land a plane, or if he believes in aliens...mikko just wanted to go home.

and mikko understands that the social admin was simply doing their jobs, but he couldn't help but fill with irritation anytime they'd approach him with the phone and mini-microphone and/or question cup. it was the quickest way to piss him off.

it didn't help that the avalanche fans were always in the comments asking about his noticeable absence. they wanted to see more of their assistant captain outside of gruelling post-game interviews and game highlights—they wanted the real and fun side of mikko they very rarely had the chance of seeing.

but that didn't change mikko's opinion of social media—he'd avoid the admin team at any costs, especially when he saw that stupid tiktok phone and various props he knew he'd hate to use.

that is, until you showed up.

the first time mikko saw you—standing behind the usual admin suspects with a nervous gaze and fiddling hands—he didn't think much of it. sure, you were pretty, but mikko thinks a lot of girls are pretty.

but then as the months past and your surprisingly warm and bubbly personality began peeking through your hard exterior shell, mikko begin feeling intrigued. you are always smiling, even if someone is giving you a hard time—when he is giving you a hard time—and you're constantly trying to bond with the players. you remember who these athletes are at their core—human, which a lot of people in your job description seem to forget.

the team quickly grew fond of you, and when they saw it was you in the hallway with a cup of questions, or in their locker room with that stupid tiny microphone—the energy would shift. that's just how you are though—vibrant and welcoming, and the guys feed off that energy and turn into a fun group of giddy boys.

even nathan mackinnon, who was almost as turned off by social media as mikko, enjoyed your company, doing silly things for tiktok's he'd never even dreamed of.

it had mikko's own exterior beginning to crack. before he'd be more apprehensive to the idea of participating in social media trends he had no clue about, but you and your grin had him changing.

—

lina, your co-worker looks at you over the top of her laptop, analyzing your soft face as you work on your own computer—editing a tiktok that needed to go up today. you're left with very minimal time, as the avalanche practice finishes in 5 minutes. which means in 15 you both have to head down for some more content.

it's the third time in the past minute lina as looked at you—you can feel her eyes burning through the middle of your forehead. slowly, your eyes trial up and meet hers, a questioning pull to your furrowed eyebrows. "you okay?"

she huffs—not in annoyance or impatience, but rather curiosity. lina flicks her red hair over her shoulder, and then crosses her arms—her gaze never leaving yours. "i'm trying to figure out how you do it."

you're even more confused now. "do what?"

lina snorts like it's obvious. "you've been here five months, y/n. it's been five months of watching you work with the guys and more specifically, getting mikko to work with you."

your lips contort into a confused pout—any more confusion and your head will begin to pound. you're not sure what lina is trying to imply, because as far as you know all the guys on the avs are extremely good with you and have never given you a hard time—that's just how they are...right?

"mikko is great." you hum dismissively, your fingers resuming their place on your keyboard as you continue the code in your side bar to enable the audio change in the clip—attempting to remove ross' loud voice from the background so you can better hear cale's answer.

"that's the thing," lina starts, eyes full of amusement as she leans over the table. "he's really not."

you pause. "what?"

"before you showed up, mikko was always turning a blind eye to me and nick. if we even attempted to talk to him the way you do—well, it never ended how we wanted it to." her face contorts as if she's reliving it.

one of your brows raise in question. "did he like...sentence you to a guillotine or something?"

lina disapproves of your humorous tone, sending you daggers across the meeting room table. she shuts her laptop, resting her elbow atop the logo as she puts her chin in her palm. "ha ha."

satisfied with her pointed response, you get back to work. but, lina isn't done. "he hates this kind of stuff."

"no he doesn't," you retort quickly. "mikko seems happy when I have questions for him. in fact, yesterday he came over to me and asked for one—said something about how they 'make his day bright'" you mimic mikko's deep accent to the best of your abilities, but you sound more like a drowning troll rather than the 6"4 winger.

lina's eyes widen comically—she can't believe what's she's hearing. "anytime I even point the phone in his direction he scowls and walks away. so what are you doing to get him to cooperate?" she eyes you quizzically for a moment before a devious lightbulb goes off in her head, expression morphing into a playful, teasing one. "are you fucking him?"

you squeak, and your cheeks heat up to an undeniable level of embarrassment. "no!" and it's true—of course you're not sleeping with mikko.

she raises her hands in surrender, but her smile doesn't let up. "I wouldn't blame you if you were, y/n. he's hot—like stupid hot."

"okay," you huff, covering your burning cheeks with your hands. "maybe you should sleep with him then."

lina snorts. "trust me—if I could get near him I would."

"you know," you start, "I really don't think what you're saying is true. maybe mikko didn't like it in the past, but I think he's changed his option on the social media stuff."

she raises her brow—almost challengingly. "think so?"

"yup." you hum.

"let's test it, then." lina chimes. "today i'll go up to mikko first, and ill do exactly what you would do when approaching him. and when he sends me away—which he will—then you'll go up to him, and we'll see what happens."

it's tempting—mostly because you're certain there won't be a difference in the way mikko acts towards you then he does lina. sure, mikko isn't always the most sunshine and rainbows when it comes to his personality, but he's always been compliant with you.

so although he's broody and definitely not in love with the idea of having a camera in his face—you're sure he's not going to turn lina away.

"you're on."

it's not 5 minutes later you're both packing up your respective things, preparing to make your way down to the locker room where the guys are surly anticipating your and lina's arrival.

the room is bustling with people—half dressed hockey players and pressing reporters fill the locker room, which creates a slightly hectic environment—but you're used to it by now. so neither of you seem suspicious, you ask a few of the other avs players your selected questions for the day. questions you and lina had argued about for the entire morning—she thought most of them were stupid, you thought they were was hilarious.

plus, the reporters are still swarmed around mikko's stall—the finnish native standing in the middle with a deadpanned look on his face, barley listening to them as they ask the same repetitive questions as usual.

you and lina get some good content from ross colton and josh manson, both players giving you ridiculous and enthusiastic responses to the absurd questions you'd earlier shoved in the alumni silver cup.

lina's mischievous look is back as the sea of middle aged reporters move onto their next victim—cale makar—leaving mikko by his lonesome. "i'll be back." before you can react, she plucks the phone out of your hands, effortlessly making her way through the room until she's in front of mikko.

you strain your ears, but it's no use as the chatter in the locker room is too overpowering, and you're unable to hear lina or mikko. miles wood gives you an odd look—eyeing the way you stand ridged beside his stall, gnawing your thumb as you watch lina talk to the blonde winger—but you don’t notice.

it's only a moment before lina turns around, her grin even wider than it was before as she makes her way back towards you. "your turn." she chimes, thrusting the phone back in your palms.

"what happened?" you question.

lina raises one her brows, pushing you in the direction of mikko's stall. "he didn't want to answer anymore questions."

"okay," you draw. "so maybe I shouldn't go over there."

lina continues guiding you in his general direction. "no it's actually exactly why you should go over there."

you don't get to argue any further as you're suddenly right in front of mikko—almost too close, and if you take another step towards him you're thighs will bump his knees.

speaking of thighs—mikko's are on full display. the huge, muscle carved limbs spread wide as he manspreads in his stall. the expanse of smooth, hard skin making you feel flustered and suddenly intrigued. your eyes flicker upwards, finding the icy blue ones of mikko looking back at you.

you swallow, a heat rising to your cheeks. "hi, mikko."

"hi, y/n." he says your name playfully, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. "you okay?"

you nod too quickly and immediately curse yourself for acting so uncool. you've never been this nervous around any of the avs, especially not mikko, but lina's comments about his looks earlier are lingering in your mind—leaving you flustered.

because obviously you are aware mikko is hot, but now you can't help but be really aware of the fact. damn lina.

"yeah," you clear your throat, clutching the cellphone tightly in your hand. "I was actually just wondering if you'd answer a question for tiktok? for me? promise it'll be quick."

his eyes flicker over your warm, hopeful face, and after a beat he sighs gently, a quick nod following. "yeah I can do that for you."

you can't help the way your eyes widen at his agreement. mikko seems oblivious to your shocked state, removing his remaining elbow pad and tossing it towards the back of his messy stall.

you catch a whiff of his intoxicating scent, and even with the sweat lingering across his forehead and soaking his branded undershirt, mikko smells so good. he's always been enveloped in a cloud of clean laundry and something slightly woodsy, and even though you're extremely professional, it never fails to make you falter.

you clear your throat and your head. "really?"

mikko runs the damp towel previously hung around his neck through his messy curls, making the appearance of them even more fluffy and soft. his eyes twinkle with amusement, a matching half smile blossoming on his lips. "yeah, really. why do you sound shocked?"

you make a tiny noise of confusion in the back of your throat, shooting a glance to lina over your shoulder. she sends you a triumphant look, brow raised like she knew that she was right.

she is right.

you look back at mikko quickly, "I just thought..." you trail off, brows pulling tightly as you think about the excuse he gave to lina—you're so confused. you've never noticed before if mikko had a certain favouritism towards you over lina, or even nick. I mean, you never paid attention to anything like that—but now you feel like you should be more aware, because this doesn't make sense.

"you thought..?" mikko raises one eyebrow, waiting for the second half of your sentence.

"nothing." you blink quickly, adjusting the phone in your hand. "sorry, let's just get to it."

you're still in some sort of shock for the rest of the day—the pieces of the puzzle in your mind loose and turned upside down as you try and understand mikko's dismissal of lina, or better yet, his compliance with you.

it had you further trying to solve the mystery. does mikko just prefer you? does he like your voice over your co-workers? maybe you smell like his favourite desert? does he like you? does mikko want to fuck you?

you're not sure where to pinpoint the source, but you're also determined to find the answer. with some help for lina, and even a little input from nick, you conjure up a plan—which lina finds the upmost entertainment in.

but you mean nothing but business. for the next few weeks it's only you who works with mikko rantanen—it's you asking him questions and having him participate in stupid games. and without fail, every single time you ask him, mikko complies.

so you get crazier with it. whether it's a questions about my little pony—a show mikko has never even heard of—or having him lift you onto his shoulder while a sabrina carpenter song plays through the tiktok recording—he is participating without complaining.

every. single. time.

it has your good friends, but ever so annoying colleagues theorizing.

"maybe he's got a thing for girls with her hair colour? can't resist them." nick chimes, sipping some piping hot coffee from an avalanche branded mug.

you roll your eyes, pulling open the microwave to grab your shitty frozen meal.

lina's laugh echos through the staff room, "mhmm...or maybe her eye colour." she sends you a teasing look before slurping some saucy noddles up into her mouth.

before you can respond nick pipes up again, "he definitely wants in her pants."

you take a seat beside lina—across from your male coworker—and send them both a slightly amused, but deadpanned look. "are you guys done?"

despite your attitude towards them, you can't help but wonder if their theories are correct. sure, mikko seems sweet enough—towards you anyways—but with the way you're barley pushing him into participating in stupid little tiktok's, has you pondering. mikko is nice...but not that nice.

is he just trying to get into your pants? and then forgot about you? the thought has you feeling angry, because you're not just some girl who he can treat nicely until he gets what he wants—absolutely not. and you're not going to let him treat you like a fool, just because he wants his dick wet.

the following day you’re determined to get answers and put your mind at ease. you like mikko—he’s a great guy—but you don’t want to feel like you’re being used. there was a team meeting and breakfast today, without the pressure of practice or a game—essentially an off day for the guys.

as the chaos of the dining room begins clearing out, only a few lingering athletes and staff members at some of the tables, you make your way across the room with a determined step, looking for mikko.

you catch the broad expanse of his back and blonde hair sticking out from underneath his beanie just as he slips out the door. you grumble to yourself, speeding up in hopes to catch him before he leaves the facility.

pushing open the rather heavy door to the hallway, you’re immediately greeted by his familiar laugh and gabe landeskogs smooth voice—spewing some dad joke that only mikko would find funny.

before you can sike yourself out, you march up to the two european teammates. “rantanen, I need to talk to you.”

they pause in their slow steps, conversation halting abruptly as both men turn to look at you. the sight of your hard expression and pointed gaze has mikko swallowing roughly, eyeing you with confusion.

gabe snickers quietly, the sound missing your ears, and pats mikko’s shoulder sympathetically. “last name, huh? good luck.” with that the avalanche captain stalks off, disappearing down the quiet hallway.

you cross your arms defensively, looking up—way up—at him, tone rough and determined. “are you trying to fuck me or something?”

“whoa whoa, just hold on a second.” mikko’s eyes widen, looking around the hallways quickly to ensure you were alone. even though he doesn’t see any physical bodies, mikko can’t be too sure—especially when he can sense the conversation is going in a direction that doesn’t need to be overheard.

he gently takes ahold of your wrist, guiding you towards the open meeting room directly across from the kitchen. the censor lights flicker alive as you step into the empty, quiet room—illuminating the once dark space.

mikko lets go of your arm, shutting the door with a soft click before turning back to you. he analyzes your face, eyes flickering over your still pointed eyes and the angry pull to your mouth. confused, he steps towards you. “are you joking with me?”

you raise your brows. “do I look like i'm joking with you, mikko?”

he shakes his head gently, like he’s trying to come up with a reason for your sudden coldness—you’ve never acted this way around him, and seeing you so irritated is rather strange. “why are you asking me that?”

he’s referring to the first question you’d asked him—rather angrily may he add. mikko is unsure what brought on the rather sexual outburst of a question, only because it’s so unlike you. in fact, one time ross colton tried to make a sexual innuendo with you, and you just about turned the colour of a ripe apple.

mikko thinks he must’ve done something—or said something to make you not only think like that, but ask him about—without so much as a blush on your face. you were serious.

you cross your arms again, defensive walls still built high. clearing your throat, you look away from mikko and towards the navy blue patterned rug covering the floor. “ why are you so nice to me?”

you practically whisper, timidly running your foot along the worn out carpet.

mikko blinks. “what?” he’s even more confused now—because why wouldn’t he be nice to you. you’re sweet, and respectful, and funny, and beautiful, and you’re you.

you meet his eyes again, expect this time there’s more emotion swimming in them, and you’re slowly coming down of your flurry of anger—left with fear and your own confusion. “like..,” you start unsure, “you only do the media stuff when i'm the one asking you to. are you only being nice to me so that like, you'll get in my pants?”

you’re right, he thinks. he only does media when you ask, but it’s not because he suddenly wants to if you’re the one asking, it’s because he can’t say no to you. mikko never wants to see you sad—he never wants to see the current look on your face when he can help it.

mikko shakes his head, slow and steady. “no. that's not why i'm nice to you.”

“no?” you parrot, the tiniest hint of disbelief in your tone.

“no.” mikko repeats firmly. “i'm nice to you because I like you.”

“like as a friend?” you gulp, arms falling to your sides as you’re no longer strong enough to hold them around yourself.

mikko doesn’t see the point of hiding his true feelings any longer. the thought of you thinking he had ulterior motives with his kindness literally makes his stomach hurt, and he can’t have you believing he’s trying to use you for his own benefit.

so with a gentle sigh, he takes another step closer to you, eyes softening as he takes in your hesitant gaze and red cheeks. “more than a friend.” mikko admits gently.

your face falls, “oh.” you’re in some sort of shock, looking up at the winger with parted lips and wide eyes. the way mikko is looking at you, so raw and real, has any lingering hesitance falling away, and your expression quickly shifts.

“yeah, oh.” the corner of mikko’s plump lip slides upwards, the beginning stages of a lopsided smirk growing on his flushing face.

he reaches towards you, slowly, hands enveloping the sides of your head as he holds you in his palms. mikko’s hands are so warm and big, completely covering your cheeks and ears—the feeling itself has you turned on.

your breath hitches as mikko’s rough thumbs begin running over your cheekbones, stroking your warm skin absentmindedly.

his tongue licks along his bottom lip, moistening the skin slowly. mikko swallows gently, not once taking his gaze off your flustered face. “but like, just so there’s no confusion, I would eat you out on the table until you’re crying if that’s what you wanted.”

you inhale sharply, stomach dropping with excitement and adrenaline. your body flutters at his words, “mikko.” you whine in a whisper, hands reaching out and resting against his hard pecks. you have no control of your hands, the need to feel him under your palms too strong. you begin running over his covered chest, his muscles tightening and nipples hardening under your deliberate touches.

mikko huffs shakily before he comes down, kissing you with as much passion he can manage. his lips are surprisingly soft and smooth, enclosing and teasing yours in a messy, hard way. the feeling has your stomach swooping further, toes curling in your shoes as the kiss grows harder—needier.

suddenly, mikko’s hands run down your body, passing over your ass with a firm squeeze. you moan into his mouth as his hands find the backs of your thighs, picking you up.

you gasp as he lifts you effortlessly, sitting you on the table like it’s nothing—mikko smirks at the sound you make, and he can’t help the way his dick twitches in his pants. his wet lips trail off your mouth, travelling over your jaw and down your neck where he continues giving you hot, and hurried kisses.

reluctantly, your eyes flutter open, running a hand under mikko’s beanie, gripping the base of his hair between your trembling fingers. “we can get in a lot of trouble for this.” you breathe.

despite your words, your hips rolls against his hardening length, your cores at the perfect angle with you sitting on the table to grinding together deliciously.

mikko pulls back, eyes glazed with lust as he grins. “I know. so we'll just have to be sneaky.” his words are husky, sending your blood pumping and head swirling with need.

he leans back in, giving you another eye rolling kiss. you push his hat off his head completely, giving yourself free reign of his messy curls, tugging the blonde strands as your heart desires.

mikko pulls you closer on the tabletop, further bumping your clothed heat against his. his large hands slide underneath the back of your top, running over your spine and fiddling with the edge of your lacy bralette.

you sigh trembly, disconnecting the kiss. “i'll have to stop asking you questions though. because now I really won't be able to control myself around you.”

the admission has mikko smirking, biting his lip seductively. one of his hands round to your front, groping your tit over your bra. “I turn you on baby?” he already knew the answer to his question—your hardened nipples and shifting hips giving him all the information he needs.

you laugh through a breathless exhale, and you gently hit his shoulder. “be serious. you'll have to tolerate lina, and start saying yes when she asks you to do things.”

“no promises.” he chimes playfully, hands running back down your torso—leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you give him a soft, serene smile, which as mikko following suit—looking at you the way he always has. “I really like you, mikko.” you admit gently, one of your hands running over his building bicep before sliding around to rest on his shoulder blade.

for a moment, his smile remains admirable, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that has ever mattered. mikko has been dreaming of the day you say those words, and actually hearing you speak them is just otherworldly.

but because he’s a boy, and you’re his dream girl with his spit coating your plump lips—he can’t help himself. mikko’s hand rounds to your front, dipping underneath the waistband of your leggings and sliding over your underwear. he thumbs your clit over the thin material, and your mouth goes slack at his touch.

he breathes, smirking at the feeling of your arousal soaking through your panties. “yeah I can tell.”

“shut up.” you huff, pulling him back in to continue your desperate kiss.

#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic #mikko rantanen fic #mikko rantanen fanfic #mikko rantanen x reader #mikko rantanen imagine #mikko rantanen smut #nhl blurb #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #hockey x reader #hockey imagine #hockey fic #colorado avalanche imagine #carolina hurricanes imagine

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megalony · 5 months ago

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Near Death Experience

Okay, this is my very first imagine for Gladiator II, for Emperor Geta x reader.

Thank you very much @missdreamofendless for the request, I hope you like it and I hope everyone else will like this and want to read more for this fandom/ character. Please let me know what you think.

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Summary: Geta's wife is a very reserved, sensitive soul. She doesn't often attend the games, but when she agrees to watch the Gladiators in the colosseum, a bold arrow is aimed at her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) tilted her head back until she could feel the bright, midday sun beaming down on her skin. Sometimes it felt like the sun was close enough that she could skim her fingers across the hot flames. With her eyes closed and her head aimed up towards the beacon of light, it felt like the sun was reaching out to her, gliding hot flickering flames across her skin that was beginning to burn deliciously.

Being outside was always preferrable to being indoors. At least, in moments like these, it was preferrable.

When her husband was holding meetings with the Senate and the high families of Rome, (Y/n) preferred not to be around.

It was nothing to do with Geta. If anything, (Y/n) found his demanour and the way he controlled the meetings delightful. He had such a calming presence about him, the way Geta sat during those meetings was so relaxed with one leg crossed over the other and his head inclined to one side and a placid yet interested expression on his pale face. And within a second his demanour could change.

He could take charge of the room, he could make a stand or put his foot down and insist on changes or control what way the situation turned. And he could calm his brother down when Caracella went into one of his rants or one of those exciteable or frustrated moods.

Watching Geta in those moments was something (Y/n) enjoyed and she could never stop herself from smiling and melting in awe of her husband.

It was the rest of the people in the room who (Y/n) couldn't cope with.

The hall in which these meetings took place had high ceilings and thick stone walls and pillars of marble. Everything that was needed to create a horrible echo that vibrated through (Y/n)'s skin and had her quivering on the spot.

Raised voices and screeching echoes didn't bode well with (Y/n). Geta always seemed to be intrigued with how sensitive she was to noises, he liked the fact that she could hear conversations happening in the next room if she found herself focusing on them enough. But he hated how loud events and people could be and how it would upset his wife.

Geta saw the distress it caused his wife when people raised their voices or when laughs and shouts would echo off the walls. Loud clatters would make her shudder and cringe. Yells and the clinking of swords would have her cowering into his side and once, during a brawl, he had seen (Y/n) clasp her hands desperately over her ears to ward away the noise.

To stop his wife from becoming distressed, Geta excused (Y/n) from any all all meetings she didn't want to attend, and he would raise his knife to anyone whop dared question why she wasn't present.

It was one of the things that made (Y/n) love him even more. He made sure she wasn't required to answer to anyone but him.

With a tender smile on her face, (Y/n) opened her eyes and glanced down to the companion by her side.

"Come, Arla." Her fingers skimmed across the top of the dog's head, tangling her fingers into the long strands of golden yellow fur that always reminded (Y/n) of Geta, especially when the sun glimmered down on the fur just right.

Arla had been (Y/n)'s pet since before she married Geta; she had been a present from him.

Much like Caracella had Dondus who seemed to be his best friend and confidont, (Y/n) had Arla.

(Y/n) wasn't like her brother in law, she didn't donne Arla with clothes or hats or a leash, she had no need. Arla never strayed from her side whereas Dondus had a tendency to scuttle about the palace if he wasn't watched carefully. But (Y/n) did think of Arla as her friend. Someone she could be herself around.

Someone who didn't roll their eyes or tut whenever (Y/n) would flinch at loud noises or steer away from people in favour of being in her own company. Arla was a comfort to (Y/n).

She didn't have many people she could be comfortable around or confide in. The only people (Y/n) had were Geta and Caracella, and it was hit and miss whether she could confide in her brother in law, with his tempermental moods. At least when she had Arla, (Y/n) never felt like she was truly alone.

Her sandals glided against the gravel and sand, kicking up flecks as she moved towards the fountain in the centre of the small garden. The palace had many gardens, some hidden within the centre, some dotted around the outskirts. This was a secluded, square opening in between some of the chambers, it didn't really count as a garden when there was nothing growing here to be tended to or shown off.

But there was a lovely marble fountain that (Y/n) found soothing. The water was always quiet yet steady, the trickling sound of the water sprinkling down sounded like the faintest beginning of rain and at this time of day, the sun was as bright as ever.

(Y/n) sat down on the smooth edge of the fountain and crossed one leg over the other. She tilted back until the sound of the water was all she could hear and her hands twitched and her fingertips glided against the soft stone beneath her to hold herself up.

She felt Arla take pride of place, sitting beside her right leg with her head gently resting on (Y/n)'s knee. Her companion was always so eager to simply sit in peace like this, never fussing or barking or becoming restless.

(Y/n) preferred Arla's company to that of any maid in the palace. The servants were kind, most of them, but there was always a stilted edge of conversation. Most didn't speak unless spoken to, and (Y/n) always felt like she had to be careful with what she said around them. Gossip spread like fever in a palace like this.

And it hadn't escaped (Y/n)'s notice that many of the female servants liked to get close to both Emperors; especially Geta. They fawned over him in a way that made (Y/n) feel uneasy. But then again, Geta had eyes for her alone and if anyone else got too close, his patience would soon wear thin and he would snap at them to retreat. There was nothing for (Y/n) to fear in that department.

She sat for a while, listening to the sound of the water behind her and trying to let her mind wander off.

It was nice to be able to walk around without any servants or guards following her. At (Y/n)'s timid request, Geta had ordered the guards not to follow her. They could keep a note of where she was, but because (Y/n) didn't leave the palace- certainly not without Geta- she didn't need to be followed around every moment of the day.

"I thought I would find you here."

That quiet yet striking voice brought (Y/n) out of her thoughts and she tilted her head forward, opening her eyes quickly to see her husband advancing towards her.

His pale face was angled to one side, making the vibrant golden crown sat on his equally bright strands glitter in the sunlight. The brightness contrasted to the pale makeup covering his face and the darkness painted around and especially beneath his eyes.

Sometimes (Y/n) wondered if Geta was an embodiment of what the God of Death may look like. Pale, haunting skin, dark-rimmed eyes that could pierce and reach the soul. A calm demanour, a stern expression and an aura that said he wouldn't bargain with anyone, at any cost.

Something seemed to melt in Geta's eyes when they set on his wife and he advanced towards her with a determination in his movements and his expression.

He perched down on the fountain on (Y/n)'s left side, one hand moving to hold her thigh while he leaned in towards her and attached his lips to her exposed shoulder.

(Y/n) pushed off her hands so she was sitting up rather than reclined back towards the water and her head inclined to the left. She found herself smiling when she buried her nose into Geta's hair as his face stayed tucked into the crook of her neck.

"Did your meeting fare well?" (Y/n) curved her arm around Geta's back when he seemed to lean into her more and she heard the small grunt he let out. She imagined if he wasn't burrowed down into her side like this, he may have rolled his eyes or pulled a gaunt expression.

"As expected. How are you?"

(Y/n) found herself smiling softly and nuzzling her cheek into Geta's hair when his hand moved from her thigh to take her other hand. She uncrossed her legs and set to tapping her sandals softly in the gravel while her hand entwined with Geta's and he finally lifted his head from her shoulder to look at her.

The concern in his eyes was overwhelming. (Y/n) knew anything she said was always taken to heart. If she told him she felt unwell he would be calling for the doctor. If she said she felt the happiest she had ever been Geta would have a beaming smile from ear to ear, and he would strive to do even better. If something was bothering her, she could rest assured it would be at the top of Geta's agenda.

"Much better now you're here." She was fine to wander about the palace on her own, but (Y/n) always felt better when Geta was beside her.

Sometimes it was because she felt like no one would look or dare to speak or mess with her when Geta was by her side. Other times, it was simply because she wanted his company and being parted from him made (Y/n) feel at a loss for what to do with herself.

She found herself focusing on the feeling of his thumb stroking along the back of her hand and she watched the way Geta looked down at their hands before he looked up at her.

"There will be another game tomorrow, I've been told the gladiators are training through the night for tomorrow's event. Will you join us to watch?"

It was soothing how Geta asked (Y/n) rather than gave an order or command. They both knew if he ordered for (Y/n) to join, she would always comply. He was her husband and her Emperor, if he asked (Y/n) to do something she never liked to refuse and whatever Geta asked was never anything that would upset or put (Y/n) at risk or make a fool out of her in any way.

He would never do that.

If (Y/n) didn't want to attend some of the games or events that were held at the colosseum, Geta never forced her to go. He was understanding. He knew the games could be rowdy.

The crowds were unruly and their cheering and screaming and throwing of food or flowers was far too loud and unsettling for (Y/n). The royal box was the best view and secluded from the rest of the colosseum, but it did nothing to change the volume of the games. The gladiators weren't much better, their guttural screams, their roars of triumph or deathly defeat were overwhelming.

And Geta knew (Y/n) didn't like witnessing the massacres of animals and fallen men. She would divert her gaze or tuck her face into his arm to avoid witnessing those things.

"Will you accompany me?" The soft tone to Geta's voice had (Y/n)'s heart fluttering in her chest like a wild bird demanding to be released.

And when he brought their entwined hands up so he could press a delicate kiss to her knuckles, she found herself nodding.

"Of course."

These games were different. This was a course of games set up in the honour of Rome and its Emperors. This was the strongest of gladiators fighting undefeatable odds in the name of sport and honour. This was a celebration and Geta wanted to have his wife there by his side.

He wanted to enjoy the day with her, to have her there with him while the celebrations occured. He didn't like to be parted from her company.

It never sat well with Geta when he attended the games but knew (Y/n) was back at the palace. Knowing she had servants and guards around her wasn't comforting because she was still out of Geta's sight. He couldn't be around her to protect her himself.

"Thank you."

His hand left hers in favour of cupping her chin and tilting her head up in his direction so he could steal a kiss from her lips.

His touch was gentle, so much so that (Y/n) felt like she were touching a mirrage, as if Geta wasn't really there in front of her at all. But she could feel her lips tingling from his touch and how he was stroking his thumb along her chin and the way the end of his nose nudged into hers.

With his head inclined towards hers and their foreheads touching, Geta blocked the sun from (Y/n) which now shone down on his hair and illuminated the golden crown woven into his hair like it was now part of his skin.

(Y/n) brought her hand up to cup the side of Geta's face, smoothing her thumb along his sharp yet deathly pale cheek.

She knew it would be best if she attended the games too. Geta was increadibly understanding and relaxed when it came to (Y/n), he didn't force her to join in the meetings or the rest of the games or attending banquets and entertainment held in their honour at counsellor's homes.

The least (Y/n) could do for Geta was turn up to the games and hang onto his arm. She could show support and show that she was more than happy to be by her husband's side and watch the events thrown in his honour. It was (Y/n)'s place to be beside Geta and it was her duty as his wife to honour him and show support.

That thought made her smile against his lips and she leaned in close until both arms were deadlocked around his neck and their chests were pressed together.

If the crowds and the noise got too much, (Y/n) knew she would have Geta there by her side to calm her down and make sure she was okay. He would keep her safe.

And he wanted to have her there by his side, that was an offer she simply couldn't refuse.

***

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine as they approached closer and closer to the viewing box of the colosseum.

She could hear the crowds from the carriage on their way from the palace. She could hear their shouts and applause as they entered the colosseum and made their ascent through the dark corridors. Anxiety bubbled up inside of her and seemed to radiate off of her in waves, for she felt the way Geta stepped closer to her side.

Both her hands were latched around Geta's arm and she was close enough now that they were almost moulded into one being. But the feeling of his lips pressing down against her temple was soothing.

Caracella was the most eager out of the three of them. He walked with a skip in his step and a broad, slightly unhinged smile on his face. He had left Dondus back at the palace for now, he wanted his full attention to be on the blood and gore that would soon be littering the scene ahead of them.

Walking towards the box made (Y/n) feel like they were ascending towards Heaven. The sun was so bright she could scarcely see and relied on Geta to steer them through the doors towards their seats.

As always when (Y/n) joined to view the games, there was another seat set out for her.

Both Emperors ruled together, one was no more in charge than the other. But when Geta married (Y/n), she then gained as much power and status as them. The three of them would sit at the very front of the box which was reserved for the Emperors and the most highest of counsellors and senates.

Three chairs which were almost as elegant as thrones were lined together, painted beautiful shades of berry blue with hints of grey and silver. And the intricately carved backs of the chairs were adoned with carved eagles and painted the most beautiful shade of gold.

They sat as they usually would when they were attending public events like these. (Y/n) in the centre with Geta on her left, and Caracella on her right.

As soon as they were sat down, (Y/n) began smoothing her hands along her crystal white dress that fanned out towards her ankles and hung on her shoulders with thin straps and golden hoops. She picked this dress because she knew it was one of Geta's favourites. It left her shoulders exposed as the sleeves began part way down her arms. Both sleeves were made of a soft see through silk that hung from (Y/n)'s arms like capes.

There were ruffles sewn into the centre of the dress that was low cut, leaving her chest exposed to his adoring eyes. And the golden belt around her middle was a symbol for Geta's golden hair and the crown sat on top of his head.

"Okay?" Geta's voice was hushed and murmured against the shell of (Y/n)'s ear as he leaned over the armrest to lean on her chair. Each chair was pressed so close together that the arm rests were almost overlapping, but it wasn't enough for Geta. He was always so desperate to reach out and drag his wife onto his lap and share one chair with her.

"Hm, I'm okay." (Y/n) nodded and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek which seemed to ignite his smile and send his mood flaring higher than before.

She watched with a tender smile as her husband and brother in law stood up to give their speech and announce that today's games could begin.

Once Geta sat back down, he crossed one leg over the other and rested his left elbow on the arm of the chair. But his head and body inclined to the right towards his wife; he would always gravitate towards her.

He tangled his right hand with (Y/n)'s, bringing her hand close enough so he could press a kiss to her knuckles before he stretched his arm over to rest their hands on her lap. He knew (Y/n) would want to fiddle with the rings that adorned his fingers, a habit that would give her something to focus on and keep her calm when the crowds and the commotion started to get overpowering.

When the crowd roared as the first announcement bellowed out, Geta felt the way (Y/n) shuddered at his side.

Uncertainty cast in his eyes that immediately overlooked his wife. He squeezed her hand and leaned a little closer when (Y/n) turned in his direction. Her free hand clutched at his arm and she laid her cheek on his shoulder, subtly muffling one ear against his shoulder to block out the volume of their subjects.

(Y/n) found herself staring at Geta's robes every now and then. He and Caracella usually adorned golden robes. Gold was the colour of splendor and money and it matched their vibrant hair and contrasted to their naturally pale skin.

She liked the mix of red and gold on his robes, it stood out and made a lot of eyes divert to him.

"The gladiators, led by the barbarian!"

Geta kept his hand deadlocked in (Y/n)'s, but he lowered his leg back down and leaned forward in his seat to lean over the edge of the balcony. He wanted to watch the inferior ship sail out into the centre of the colosseum that had been flooded with salt water and filled with the deadliest of sea animals.

When the second ship entered the water and the game officially began, (Y/n) leaned forward a little to watch the entrance.

She found herself observing the colour of the water more than the ships that were slowly turning to face one another. When she glanced to her right, she found Caracella with a bright smile on his red lips and his hands were twitching as he sat forward and bashed his fists down on the arms of his seat in eagerness.

Blood and gore was something both Emperors delighted in whereas (Y/n) wasn't so fond. A fight, sure, she could witness and take heed in. But a fight to the death was a little extreme, it seemed like such a waste unless the person was a traitor or condemned to death.

The roaring of the crowds made (Y/n) sink back in her seat. She didn't slouch or shuffle down, it wouldn't do her any good to give off an uninterested look or seem rude. She was wife to an Emperor, looks had to be maintained. She kept her posture but took to gliding her free hand up and down Geta's arm beneath his cloak.

Her gaze constantly switched between the scene and her surroundings, trying to find different ways to amuse and occupy herself to distract from the noise. (Y/n) knew when they eventually got back to the palace, her ears would be ringing from all this noise. She didn't know how her family could do it, how her husband and brother could walk back into that quiet domain and not feel their heads spinning or their ears ringing and screaming from the drastic volume change.

Get leaned forward at the same moment the inferior gladiator ship crashed into the opponent; the defenders.

The breaking of wood and the groaning and creaking was enough to shake the walls of the colosseum and the roars of men falling into the clutches of sharks and becoming snagged on barbaric teeth made (Y/n) shiver. She tried to steel her expression and hold herself when she wanted to shake and wince at the crowds cheers.

Every noise was overwhelming. Every sense was flooded. Her body was running on adrenaline already and she didn't know what to do with herself.

It was daunting and strange to know she was being observed. She was being watched by the people sitting directly behind her. Those who dared not comment how she rarely attended these events and was far happier secluded in her own company than surrounded with others. And then the crowds were constantly glancing up as well.

Some happy to see their lady Empress joining the festivities, some just wanting to look at her or bask in her beauty that was forbidden to them. Others staring with strange looks in their eyes and some form of detest on their features.

The only eyes (Y/n) wanted looking at her were her husband's. After a while, the atmosphere became one and the same and (Y/n) did her best to drown it out. She sat further back in her seat with Geta's hand on her lap and her fingers tracing the pale veins in his hand like they were a map she was plotting out.

She noticed every time he sat forward or sank back. She smiled at every laugh he let out and noticed when he crossed one leg over the other. Especially when he leaned into her side and pressed a dozen kisses to her temple.

"Shoot! Shoot!" Caracella's voice rung out along with his outburst of clapping and (Y/n) managed a smile when he reached over to squeeze her wrist before he sat forward.

The gore, guts and blood was second nature to both Emperor's and it was a sight they craved to see. The people loved the sight too, they loved the rage and the massacre that was bestowed upon their eyes. It was thrilling for them to witness without being at any real risk of injury themselves, spectating made them feel like part of the game.

When the ships were merged into one mass of broken wood and water and fighting men blurring together, (Y/n) looked down at her husband's hand and inclined her head to the left, towards him.

Then it happened.

A stray arrow, not aimed at any man down in the centre of the colosseum. The quiver broke through the air like a whip and aimed high towards the royal box without anyone seeing or being able to stop it.

A violent scream tore past (Y/n)'s lips and her hands retracted from Geta so her hands could clutch the arm rests of her seat. Her body jolted down against the chair like she was melting on the spot. Her knees pushed forward, her sandals scraped against the floor and caught the back of her dress and her body shuddered when a searing pain struck her right arm.

Geta's body shuddered back into his own seat and he jerked to the left, unintentionally moving away from his wife out of instinct.

His head whipped to the right, watching in horror as an arrow shot right between his wife and his brother, the two people who Geta swore to protect with his life. The arrowhead imbedded into his wife's chair, level with her head when she shrunk down in her seat with her eyes snapped closed.

Less than a foot higher and that arrow would have been in range of her head. One inch to the side and Geta would have lost her.

He could hear the ruckus of voices and the panicked shouts of "The Empress!" and "She's hurt!" flooded the air from all around the colosseum.

Geta bolted up from his seat, his chest heaving against his gown that suddenly felt restrictive with how harshly he was breathing and his body temperature that was rising to a feverish point. His body turned to the right and he crashed down to his knees in front of his wife, kneeling up straight so his body was a shield for any other arrows that tried to aim their way.

Both hands clutched the arms of her chair and he leaned his abdomen against her knees. His eyes scoured over her body with fever and impatience, desperately trying to see if she was hurt. The arrow being lodged in her chair did nothing to calm Geta down.

It didn't matter that the arrow wasn't lodged in her body, that was a small grace, but she could still have been hurt.

Caracella burst out into a fit of screams and clutched the arm of his chair, leaning close to his sister in law to see if she was hurt.

"Are you hurt? Look at me!"

The urgency and the gritty tone to Geta's voice caused (Y/n) to gasp and her eyes snapped open which unleashed a river of tears pouring down her face. Her body was trembling back and forth and her hands felt like they had melted into the arms of the chair.

She couldn't feel anything but panic. It coursed through her body causing her blood to tingle and had her trembling back and forth like someone was shaking her by the shoulders. All (Y/n) could register was that each breath hurt to try and wheeze to gasp for air and she couldn't see her husband when her vision started to blur from the amount of tears she was shedding.

(Y/n) tried to hold still when she felt her husband's unusually rough hands roaming her skin. He tilted her head back, traced the pads of his fingers down her neck, checked around her chest and abdomen but the way he grabbed her right arm and pulled it closer made (Y/n) gasp.

Blood was gushing down her right arm a few inches below her shoulder. There was a gaping cut horizontally through her skin. And blood was trickling down past her elbow and dripping onto her previously pure white dress and it was beginning to soak into the silk sleeve that was now stuck to her lower arm. When Geta let go of her arm, he left a bloodied hand print in his wake.

Something twisted awfully in his stomach when he remembered that his wife was wearing that dress at his request. Maybe if she wore something different, the wound to her arm would be less substantial. A dress with a cloak or a shawl or proper sleeves made of a thicker material would have saved a layer or two of skin from being shredded.

At least the arrow had cut through her arm rather than imbedding it. He dreaded to think how they would have gotten out of here in a hurry if (Y/n) were pinned to the chair with an arrow straight through her arm. Or her chest. Or her neck.

"Go! Now." Geta roughly grabbed his brother's shoulder and hoisted him to his feet, shoving him in the direction of the door along with their close spectators and useless guards who had done nothing to prevent this.

He couldn't care less that his brother was still screaming and in one of his enraged states, he had to move. They had to get back to the safety of the palace.

He watched in a growing sense of panic as his wife started to tremble. Her hands unlatched from the arm rests of her chair, but when she dared to twist her head to look at her arm, a mewl left her lips and she sobbed. The sound broke Geta's heart and he hated the look of panic in her eyes as she tried to move her right arm but it twinged.

Her loose sleeve was still caught within the arrow, effectively pinning her arm to the chair.

That notion clearly made (Y/n) manic because she tried to move and fling her arm around but it didn't do anything but ignite her state of distress. Until Geta leaned across and harshly ripped the sleeve from her dress. He didn't have time to be careful. The gown was ruined. He wouldn't allow the servants to even attempt to remove the blood stains from this dress, it would be burned. Ripping the sleeve caused no issues.

"Come on."

Both hands then reached down for (Y/n) and he gripped her elbows, being more careful with her than with his brother as he pulled her up onto trembling feet. His arm swooped around her waist, reeling her into his chest as his other hand cupped the back of her neck.

He swiftly walked her backwards, ushering her through the door where the last two guards were waiting for them to hurry out.

"Okay, we're going. You're safe." Those last two words were muttered on repeat against (Y/n)'s temple and made tears pour faster down her cheeks.

Both arms enclosed to her chest but it only made (Y/n) notice the pulsing pain that was coursing through her arm in shockwaves. She could feel the agony starting to spark down her arm and it was causing her fingertips to go numb and her hand was trembling.

She managed to fist both hands around Geta's robes, pulling them closer as she muffled her face into his chest to try and stop herself from screaming, but she couldn't stop crying.

No one had ever shot at her before. She had never been hurt like that before. They were supposed to be safe, that was why they had guards in the box with them. No one was supposed to aim for the Emperor's box and try to hurt them. The gladiators should have been controlled.

Aimed a little better, that arrow could have killed her.

That thought made (Y/n) tremble and she whimpered into Geta's robes that she wouldn't dare open her eyes to look at. She had her wounded arm pinned between their bodies. She would no doubt be bleeding all down his crimson and golden robes; they would have to be burned.

Walking at a sideways angle was strange and (Y/n) kept fumbling over her feet, but it didn't stop Geta's harsh strides.

He had his left arm possessively tight around her waist and his right hand cupping the back of her neck with his lips against her hair. He ushered (Y/n) faster, almost pelting down the tunnel that led out of the colosseum. They had to get back to the palace; their fortress was where they would be safe.

"G- Geta…"

"Almost there, you're safe now, I promise."

It didn't take long to get back to the palace which was in a state of distress itself. Servants rushing left and right, many crowding to ask if the Emperor's were safe, if they were harmed, asking what they should do.

One servant ran off, followed swiftly by a guard when they heard Geta's order to fetch the physician.

With Caracella's deteriorating state, his fits of rage and the illness he had, they had a physician who lived at the palace. Ready and willing to help with any and all emergencies they had. He was needed now. He needed to assess (Y/n).

(Y/n) felt like she couldn't breathe.

The swift change from noise and panic and utter chaos had morphed into a calmer sense of chaos and people ushering about in all directions.

She felt like she had been walking in a trance, guided by Geta until he steered her into the main hall where he finally stopped walking. He turned so they were properly facing one another and his hand deadlocked around the back of (Y/n)'s neck while his other hand reeled her closer. He let her pull on his robes, uncaring about the way she was yanking on them, close to tearing the material. All he cared about was having her safe in his arms.

He took a moment to close his eyes and smother his lips into her intricately woven hair. Breathing in her scent as his fingers glided up and down the centre of her back.

She was here. She was in his arms; and she was safe.

When Geta opened his eyes, he stared ahead of him towards the back of the hall. Caracella had slumped down into one of the thrones and someone had already brought Dondus to him to calm him down. The monkey had perched high on his shoulder and Caracella was fiddling with the leash, tossing it between his hands to give him something to do and a way to calm himself down.

"Let's sit down."

(Y/n) barely heard Geta's words and she let herself go limp, allowing him to steer her to sit down a few feet away from Caracella. She felt like she was about to faint when she flopped into a heap in the chair.

When her head tilted down, her eyes focused on the droplets of blood staining her robes.

Her dress had been the purest shade of white to rival the midnight moon. Now it was tarnished. A large streak of blood was smudged into the side of her waist near her belt, with flecks of blood splattered all down the dress. When she looked at her arm, she found herself shaking once again. The cut was leaking water like one of the palace fountains and the trail had now reached her hand. The feeling of the blood slithering between her fingers made (Y/n) want to be sick.

As soon as the physician came running into the hall, Geta was on his feet. His usually pale features were burnt red, his upper lip was sneering and his eyes were filled with the darkest rage imaginable.

"Fix it." His words held no room for argument and the physician was nodding before he could even see what the problem was.

Geta took to pacing up and down beside the chair, constantly switching from staring at the stone floor where he was scrutinising the droplets of blood to looking over at his wife.

Rag after rag of water and blood were thrown into a growing pile on the floor as her arm got cleaned so the wound was visible to the naked eye.

(Y/n) had her forehead resting on her left hand, with her trembling elbow propped up on the arm rest so she didn't have to look at the wound on her arm that was making her feel sick. She knew her arm was shaking horribly in the elder man's grasp as he tried to prod and assess the wound while simultaneously cleaning the steady stream of blood.

"It requires stitching, sir." The physician seemed to pale and shrink in on himself when he looked over at the Emperor who had previously been pacing so harshly on the stone floor that he was wearing his own path down into the stone.

The way Geta's head snapped to the physician with such fury made the elder man quiver.

It looked like Geta wanted to rebutt, like he was ready to raise Hell to the surface and throw everyone down into the depths. But he took a deep breath, enough to stop himself from shaking and he gave a curt nod of his head and a swift flick of his hand. Whatever had to be done. He wanted the physician to do whatever necessary to make sure his wife was okay and out of harm.

(Y/n) looked down in question when a small blue bottle was placed in her left hand and the physician pushed her hand towards her face.

"Drink, it will help with the pain."

She wasn't sure she was ready for the pain of a needle puncturing through her skin, but (Y/n) knew she didn't have a choice. She nodded and gulped down a generous amount of the rather putrid liquid that burned her throat and made her cough. She wasn't sure what was mixed in with the opium in the bottle, but it had a strange way of making her blood bubble in her veins and send her head spinning.

She didn't want to look at the physician as he dabbed medicine along her wound to prevent infection, but she looked over at Geta when Caracella's words hit her ringing ears.

"You're making me dizzy." Caracella seemed unusually nervous as he shrank down in his throne and reached his right hand up to pet Dondus who was perched on his shoulder.

He didn't like how his twin was pacing the floor of the hall like that, it was having a bad effect on Caracella and making him even more unsettled. Someone had shot an arrow at his dear sister in law. An arrow that could easily have hit Caracella himself. It had been a close call for both of them today.

"Geta…" (Y/n) held her free hand out towards her husband, quietly beckoning him back towards her. She didn't want him to wear himself out pacing the room like that, he was only angering himself by dwelling on the events of today.

His fingers immediately wove into her own and he perched down on the arm of her chair.

The moment the needle slipped through (Y/n)'s skin she shrieked and burrowed her face into Geta's waist to try and muffle her distain. Her hand clenched tightly around his and her right arm trembled in the physician's tight grasp as he pulled the thread tight, causing her to groan.

"Someone tried to harm you." The words were whispered against her hair as Geta leaned his head down to hide his lips in her hair.

That was the only thing going through his head. But those words were enough to strike up fear in (Y/n)'s heart. Her head lifted from his waist until her chin was pressing into his chest, allowing her head to tilt back so she could look up at him. Those watering eyes broke his heart and the tears soaking into her face ignited his blood to the same temperature as the fires of Hell.

"W-were they aiming for me?"

The panic in her voice made Geta wince as he moved his free hand to brush his thumb along her jaw.

He didn't know the answer to that. He wasn't sure anyone could answer that question for them. The arrow had been aimed into the royal box, but anyone could have been the target. They could have aimed for either Emperor, as killing them would have incited chaos throughout Rome. They might have been aiming for (Y/n) because harming or indeed killing her would send Geta into a fit of rage so bad he would burn his lands and people to the ground.

There were others sat in the box with them, sat behind them, but it seemed unlikely that any of them had been the target. Aiming for the most important people, the ones who held all of Rome in the palm of their hands, seemed like the most comprehensive bet.

"I don't know, my love. But I won't stand for it; their fate has been sealed."

He knew that his guards had grabbed all of the gladiators in the colosseum. He knew they had all been taken back to their cells and were being held until the Emperors stated what they wanted to be done with them.

Geta hoped they had the gladiator responsible for this heinous crime. He hoped they knew which man had done this because Geta would unleash his wrath onto them. He would deal with them personally and once he was finished, no one would recognise the once would-be gladiator.

The quiet muttering of "They could have killed you," under his breath was heard by both his wife and his brother.

"They almost shot me." Caracella countered with a quiet voice and a rather timid expression that made him seem childlike and innocent. But his words didn't have much of an effect, for all his brother did was stare him down ad huff.

"You aren't the one requiring stitches, brother." He spoke quietly and tried not to snap his words so his brother knew he wasn't upset with him in any way.

Of course it thought angered Geta, but his brother hadn't been hurt and the point of the matter was that it was his wife tucked up into his embrace who needed stitches and comfort. She had the one who had the near death experience.

He wasn't letting anyone get away with this. The person responsible was going to feel one hundred times worse than the pain (Y/n) was in, Geta would make sure of that. He was going to make an example out of the person who had dared to do this. They couldn't have other gladiators getting bold and stupid, believing they could also try their luck at using their weapons against their Emperors.

Geta would put them all back in their places, he would show them exactly why it was he and his brother who wore the golden crowns.

There will be bloodshed.

#imagine #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #gladiator movie #gladiator imagine #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #geta x reader #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta x reader #joseph quinn

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soleta · 9 months ago

Note

rank every dr who on how likely they are to eat rocks

Hm which number should I go by? Let's go from least to most. I'll rank the TV Doctors and then reblog to give you general opinions on the others.

16th place - 3rd Doctor

You may disagree with this because his scientific mind might conceive of a situation where eating rocks could possibly be an option. However Liz would hit him on the nose with a newspaper like a dog if he got anywhere near her rocks. She would at length scold him and tell him that most rocks are bad for you and you shouldn't eat them.

15th place - War Doctor

He would definitely eat rocks but not for pleasure. When you are stranded on a planet because of woke war you may have to eat some rocks. But he would hate it the whole time.

14th place - 9th Doctor

Similar to War Doctor but you know what he kinda sees it. He kinda gets the appeal. I think he ate one (1) rock during his life and Rose was like Why and he was just nodding to himself like "Yeah this has a certain something".

13th place - 12th Doctor

He would eat some rocks on occaission but it would be like his guilty pleasure and he would hide it from Clara.

12th place - 7th Doctor

If there was ever a way he could incorporate eating some rocks into one of his 5D chess plans he would do it. Afterwards Ace would give him the side eye and be like "Professor this could have all worked out without you eating any of those rocks" and he would boop her on the nose and say nothing.

11th place - 6th Doctor

He would NOT eat rocks you are being RIDICULOUS. And then he finds a new rock on some planet and it smells so good and then he would take a nibble and get absolutely addicted to eating them. He would spend the next 40 years always having pebbles in his pocket to snack on and all regenerations after him would lowkey barf when someone offered them one of those rocks because of how much he used to eat them.

10th place - 13.5th Doctor

He would eat rocks just to fuck with Yaz and be quirky but his heart wouldn't be in it.

9th place - 10th Doctor

Someone would offer him something suspiciously rock shaped and he would eat it and be like "This is amazing, what is it?" and they would be like it's a rock and 10 would be like huh.

8th place - 14th Doctor

Same as above but he knows now he likes the taste of rocks. However his recent experiences made him less privy to them. He had too many.

7th place - 2nd Doctor

He would eat rocks in a heartbeat but he doesn't really like them. Like he will do it but his heart doesn't yearn for rocks. He would just do it to be silly and/or make people think hes not a threat and just some weird guy who eats rocks.

6th place - 5th Doctor

Sometimes he will pick up a rock and say what type of rock it is and eat it. And then Nyssa has to hold Tegan back lest she hit him.

5th place - 1st Doctor

Ian sees him eat a rock and is dumbfounded. He asks "Doctor, what are you doing?" and the Doctor will try to gaslight him into thinking HE is the weird one for thinking that him eating a rock is strange. And then he would laugh his old man laugh. He also sometimes eats rock flavoured food cubes from the food machine. Just cause.

4th place - 15th Doctor

He would see a rock, pick it up, laugh and jump with joy and enthusiastically ask Ruby "Do you know what this is?" and she would be like "Uh-" and he would cut her off to say "This is a rock!" and eat it.

3rd place - 8th/11th Doctor

They would both eat rocks and others who see them would be like "Yeah ok checks out". Like no one is surprised they just accept it.

(Both pics = them when they see an uneaten rock)

2nd place - 4th Doctor

Those teeth were made for rock chompin'. If 4 had to defeat an alien monster made of rock he would just eat it, and no matter which companion would be there to witness it they would all be changed forever. He would just carry on like it didn't happen.

1st place - 13th Doctor

She will see a rock and be like "is anyone gonna eat this" and not wait for an answer.

#doctor who #i took this very seriously here is my breakdown

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keferon · 5 months ago

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Did I spend two hours writing this? Ha! No, why do you ask. *lying through my teeth* anyway come here Mecha au Texaid enjoyers. come get yall juice.

———

Vortex isn’t sure when it started. Doesn’t even dare to try to pinpoint the when, why, where and how of it. Just that it exists. Some forgotten feeling stored in the deep recesses of his somewhat intact consciousness that has resurfaced. It burns him, tears down at the steel walls he had formed around himself. Makes him feel like he’s being broken down then built up again.

It’s a wonderful, terrifying feeling that eats away at him the more ‘he’s’ here. The more that secretly unhinged medic-turned-pilot crawls into his cockpit, every time getting more comfortable with connecting with him literally and figuratively. With Aid slowly coming to not outright radiate hatred with every encounter. Sharing stuff like music, who they couldn’t stand, and answers to the most stupid questions like ‘wha’s your favorite color?’. Vortex had cackled at Aid for that one.

At first he rejects the feeling. Stops it at full force, imagining it going through a trash compactor or being incinerated to ash. He makes himself believe it’s a game. Empty threats, flirtatious behavior and cutting banter puts him at the top 5 of First Aid’s Most Annoying Motherfuckers to Ever Exist list. A tidbit of information he is proud as fuck of.

But that denial came to a stop the moment Shockwave had stepped into his hangar while Aid had been in his cockpit, his visor the only shield to keep that creepo from getting near him. Vortex may have been a homicidal maniac, but there had always been something about Shockwave’s presence that made him feel suffocated even back when he was alive. It took some silent processing to realize—and goddammit he hates himself for it—how afraid he had been. Not so much for himself but for the little flesh bag hidden away inside him.

It had rocked him, that’s for damn sure. When Aid had asked what made him different from all the other pilots Vortex had disregarded and killed, he answered truthfully at the time. ‘You treat me like a threat, like I’m the one in control of this power instead of you.’ And while that still held some merit, it changed kind of. ‘Threat’ turned into person. And the power that he holds became more and more of Aid’s. How easily Vortex was swayed into giving into Aid’s requests.

The first one being to dissect that Quintesson. He had reveled in the way it squirmed and screeched, trying fruitlessly to get out of their grip. Vortex considered to simply rip it in half for fun, until he felt something from the connection in the drift. A sort of fascination and curiosity quietly humming through the link. Took him longer than he’d like to admit to realize it wasn’t coming from him but Aid. A drive to know how this creature worked, how to best take it apart to examine its insides. And before he knew what he was doing, Vortex did, cutting it as neatly down the middle as he could manage. He remembers the shudder of excitement from the link, at how different that alien was, how this information could benefit battles in the future. The bombardment of information and feelings had shocked him, though he of course didn’t show it, but it also sent a thrill of wonder through him. ‘This freak’ he had chuckled to himself, feeling as Aid leaned out from his cockpit to examine the creature.

After that he realized how dangerous this was. The power Aid unknowingly held over him, and all he needed were his words. But he found that he didn’t care all that much. Especially not when Aid would sometimes fall asleep in his cockpit after a grueling mission, and Vortex would snap his visor at anyone who tried to get him out. Moments like that made him wish he still had a human body. To flick the nerd’s nose, to ruffle his hair, to playfully shove him. Thoughts like those made his non-existent heart throb, sickening himself with those sappy sentiments. He will never mention this to Aid, you’d have to rip it out of his cold, dead conscience.

Standing in the hangar, he’s not sure when he had decided this promise to himself. Doesn’t even try to pinpoint when. But he knows that if this little ant ever died, he wouldn’t stop destroying everything in his path until he either killed the one who had done it, very slowly at that, or deactivated with vengeance still roaring through his circuits.

OH I LOVE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH KFKFNFKDNHDKRKTNRJRMT

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#tf mecha universe #texaid #mecha writing #mecha ta writing

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

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What about Batfam x male reader where the reader was actually the first child Bruce adopted and he was the practice child. He hated growing io because Bruce had really no idea what to do and then the other kids came along and now Bruce kinda understood what to do. He hates family time because he never felt like family, he was just some doll the others could practice on so later they wouldn't make mistakes. And i imagine at some point they snap. I feel like what if Damian brought over Jon for dinner and Jon was like "oh I thought Dick's the oldest, you never told me about (reader)" and reader just slams down their fist and goes to their room. At this point the rest of the family try to comfort them but the reader only screams about how they never were a son or bother, they were only a practice doll for them to use and then throw away

This has angst written all over it... Ah. Angst train it seems... Also, I think I changed the end a bit, but that's fine...

Summary: (Y/N) was nothing but a test child for Bruce. He finally lets them have it

Warnings: angst, resentment, author sucks at angst, but hey, I tried, yelling, mentions of anxiety, the fam is trying, (Y/N) is mad beyond belief, implications of child neglect... If you can call it child neglect.

(Y/N) (L/N) was the oldest member of the Wayne family and the first child that Bruce had adopted. (Y/N) didn't have a good life at all before he met Bruce. (Y/N) could also argue that Bruce didn't treat him well as well, since being emotionally unavailable is not a good trait to have when you have children.

As the years went by, he hated growing up in the manor and with Bruce. He had food, a roof over his head and some sort of education. But that wasn't enough. The feeling of resentment that (Y/N) had has only grown as the years went by.

The feeling of being a test to Bruce, to see what he need to improve made his blood boil. He was a test pancake for Bruce and some sort of feedback to Bruce. It made (Y/N) mad beyond. Bruce could have gotten his shit straight when he started to have him as his legal child.

(Y/N) wished that he could forget everything about Bruce. About the family too. Even before Dick came, resentment building up in him nearly exploded. Looking back, he should have exploded on Bruce and Dick... Maybe even punch them. Maybe he should have done it.

When Dick came, (Y/N) saw signs that Bruce was improving, but he didn't show that to (Y/N). Years went by and Damian came. To say that Damian pretended that (Y/N) didn't exist is an understatement. (Y/N) tried to get closer to Damian, but Damian always pushed him away. (Y/N) took the signs and gave up, sadness and anger boiling inside of him. But he did observe Damian and Dick. In matter of a few days, they were close.

Dick did it without even trying.

So, (Y/N) has decided to alienate himself from the family, at least until he gets enough money to leave. Thankfully, the resentment towards Bruce and the rest of the family made him even put everything he had in school, even though no one cared about it. He had straight As and he was on his way to go to college that was far away from here. He knows that he can do it.

Even as Tim and Jason came, (Y/N) tried to be close to them, but none of them cared. None. (Y/N)'s solace became his own room and would avoid the family at all costs until it was time to eat where he had to step out. That only solidified the fact that he was going to leave as soon as possible.

Either way, he just had to alienate himself and move out. Then, everyone in the house would be happy.

However, everything would turn on its head when Damian would bring his boyfriend Jon over to meet the family and by default (Y/N). If only (Y/N) knew what would happen.

Dinner rolled around and came down to eat. He didn't expect to see Jon, but was nice to introduce himself to Jon, trying to be nice and just get this stupid dinner over with. He put some food on his plate and just ate in silence while everyone else talked.

He listened to bits and pieces and just stayed silent. He finished his plate quickly and pushed it away and sipped at his water, just being polite and getting ready to leave back at his room.

" Damian, you didn't tell me anything about (Y/N)... I thought that Dick was oldest of the brothers. " Jon said and (Y/N) froze.

Damian didn't tell Jon about him...

(Y/N)'s anger boiled over and he slammed his fist into the table before standing up quickly, knocking the chair over. Everyone got startled at the actions and watched in silence as (Y/N) left the dining room.

After a few seconds they all jumped into action, trying to stop (Y/N) to comfort him. (Y/N) slammed the door of his room shut, locking to make sure no one could enter, before he broke down on his bed. He hugged his pillow and sobbed into it.

It shouldn't hurt like this. He should have been stronger than this. Not cry over them.

" (Y/N), please open the door. " Bruce said through the door.

" Please, we just want to talk. " Dick added and (Y/N) snapped at that, anger boiling over once again.

" Talk?! TALK?! Stop acting like you care! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs.

" We do care. " Jason started.

" You don't give a single flying damn about me! I was never a son or a brother to anyone! I was only a test toy to Bruce so he could see what he could fucking improve! I was never a fucking brother either! Damian fucking proved it! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face.

Everyone stayed silent and (Y/N) sobbed his heart out. Damian swallowed hardly, realizing what he did and how that hurt (Y/N) deeply. Maybe he shouldn't have...

Everyone glanced at each other. They stayed silent as they listened to (Y/N)'s sobs. Just how much pain did they brought up onto him?

" (Y/N), look- " Bruce started and (Y/N) screamed again.

" Don't you dare care right now! I'm moving out in a few days anyway and I don't need your pity or apology! " (Y/N) yelled, trying to wipe the never ending stream of tears.

" Moving out?! " Bruce yelled, eyes wide in shock. He know he has no right to tell (Y/N) what to do, but something flared up in Bruce. " No, you're not moving out! You are going to stay put because we have to solve this problem! "

" Are you shitting me Bruce?! Work things out?! "

" I'm not shitting you! I have to make things right with you! You are my son too! " Bruce yelled through the door.

" I don't give a single damn about any of you! "

Bruce took a deep breath, trying not to explode. He knows he has no right to be angry, but (Y/N) was still his son. " (Y/N), I am your dad and we will solve this problem. "

" We won't solves shit Bruce! "

" (Y/N), please, " Tim started, but (Y/N) cut him off. " Shut up Tim! "

Tim bit the inside of his cheek and stepped back.

" (Y/N), " Jason started, " You need to calm down, you'll give yourself a heart attack. "

(Y/N) wanted to scream even more, but he felt like he was going to die from this situation.

" Shut up, all of you! "

Now Dick started. " (Y/N), we may have been bad brothers- "

" May have?! You were- No, you are the worst brothers! " (Y/N) yelled and clenched his fists as he started facing around the room.

Dick sighed and stepped back. At the moment, everyone knew that (Y/N) talking to them without yelling at them and more importantly, he needed to calm down first.

But with how much anger and resentment there is, it is going to take a while.

" Lets leave (Y/N) alone for a while. He needs to be alone for now. " Bruce said and gently moved everyone away from (Y/N)'s doors, who was inside, trying to breathe more normally. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin in the next few moments. He calmed down after a while, but he was still anxious beyond belief.

Unfortunately, the threat of moving out is just a threat and not a promise. (Y/N) sighed as he sat down on his bed. It was a stupid move to say that while he didn't have everything secure yet. Stupid.

(Y/N) went to the bathroom and washed his face and drank some water, to soothe his soon to be sore throat. It won't be nice to talk in a few hours.

Either way, it's better than leaving this room in order to face his siblings and dad. No, they are just roommates here, until (Y/N) can move out and just finally cut them out of his life.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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thereoncewasagirlnamedjane · 10 days ago

Text

WHAT MAKES A WOMAN.

PAIRING — bucky barnes x f!reader

CONTENTS — ficlet; fluff; slight angst; established relationship; body image issues [tw: hysterectomies]; self-indulgent to the max.

SUMMARY — When your relationship with Bucky begins to progress physically, you decide to divulge some very personal information.

WORD COUNT — 1.3k

NOTES — so i struggled with whether or not to repost this due to its unique and potentially triggering subject matter, but what the hell. experiences like mine should be told. and i want you all to know you’re beautiful :3 yes, you! 🫵🏻 i will accept no notes on this <3

✩ masterlist ✩ library blog

Of course, you don’t need to tell him anything.

The relationship is still so new, and it isn't like Bucky would be able to tell—could he? You can probably take this little secret of yours to the grave and it likely wouldn’t affect your relationship whatsoever.

But Bucky isn’t like any of the other men you’ve been with. He’s sweet and kind and so very loving, even if he doesn’t often get the chance to show it. And whether you’re out in the field together or back at home safe and sound, you do trust him completely.

Your rational brain knows he, of all people, would never treat you as something less than. Your irrational side, the part of you that has been disappointed time and time again, paints a different picture.

What if, just like your exes, he finds you repulsive after he learns what’s bothering you? What if he withdraws, tosses you aside like some days old garbage?

You hate it. You hate the part of you that doubts him, that is so full of doubt and fear despite the fact that you’ve fought aliens and mad titans.

But you have a policy of always being honest and upfront with your partners. At the time you had the procedure done, you didn’t think your medical history would be a big deal. These things happened, couldn’t be helped, and it didn’t change your lifestyle or overall health—in fact, your quality of life has improved dramatically since.

Regardless, the very necessary hysterectomy you’d gotten left you without all the parts that, according to some people, made you a woman.

Your ex-boyfriend actually recoiled when you told him, a decision you made just as things were getting serious between you. You thought you’d nip it in the bud in case the topics of marriage or children ever came up, considering you wanted neither of those things and the latter was no longer physically possible for you.

He couldn’t see past the health complications you would’ve had to live with if you hadn’t gotten it done. He accused you of lying to him, insisted you’d somehow betrayed him, and clearly didn’t understand what a hysterectomy actually was no matter how much you tried to explain it to him.

If you’d told him before you’d ever been intimate, he was audacious enough to confess out loud, he never would have touched you in the first place.

You never felt so undesirable and so ugly in your entire life. You ran back to the compound after the breakup and straight into Natasha’s arms, who didn’t ask any prying questions but made promises of revenge, torture, and murder.

You resolved to never date again. You swore off men and decided to throw yourself into your career. You did have a pretty good one, after all. What more did you need?

Well, him.

Bucky won you over the very first day you met, looking every bit as tense and anxious as you felt whenever you walked into a crowded room. You somehow plucked up the courage to walk over and introduce yourself, welcome him to the team.

He turned away from Sam and Steve at the sound of your voice, the scowl melting off his face and turning into something else entirely as he almost dropped his beer. With your quick reflexes, you managed to catch it before it shattered on the floor, handing it back to him with a small smile.

“Sorry, thanks,” he mumbled, eyes locked onto yours as he clumsily took back his drink. “I’m—beautiful, you’re so—Bucky.”

“I’m sorry?” You asked, still grinning.

“I mean—I’m Bucky,” he sighs and squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head as he took your hand and shook it, still flustered. Steve and Sam, however, exchanged a look that said they would never let him live this down.

What followed was a slow but sweet courtship. Bucky was evidently a fan of taking things slow, which you didn’t mind at all. You liked that he was a little old-fashioned, always buying you flowers, holding out his arm for you to take as you walked down the street to the restaurant where he’d made reservations. He calls you “sweetheart”, and he always kisses you like it’s the very last time.

A dream come true, that man is. With your ex, you understood you just so happened to pick a particularly bad apple out of the whole orchard; the asshole was just one guy. Not everyone would feel the way he did, and you know Bucky would never say or do anything to make you feel bad about yourself.

Your own brain, on the other hand? He’s going to think you’re disgusting. He’s going to break your damn heart and you won’t survive.

And to make matters worse, lately, he can’t seem to keep his hands off you. Bucky grows bolder each day, steadily moving past all the sweet smiles and coy glances across briefing rooms. One time, you were even caught feverishly making out in a supply closet by a mortified-looking Pepper Potts. You couldn’t bear to look her in the eye for days.

But because Bucky pays attention, observes much more than he speaks, he can tell you’re holding something back. Even as he’s got you in his room, straddling his lap while the two of you kiss like a pair of hormonal teenagers, his hands relentless and seemingly roaming everywhere all at once, he can tell you’re distracted.

He’s not always an angel, because he plays dirty. He pleads for you to tell him what’s wrong, to spill your heart in soft hushed tones, his lips planting sweet kisses along the curve of your jaw.

You confess embarrassingly quickly for an intelligence agent who’s been trained to withstand literal torture. You turn away from him in shame as you tell him about the surgery; you don’t have a reproductive system, you no longer menstruate, and you’re technically in menopause.

You need hormone replacement therapy, and you cannot ever have children. By some people’s standards, you are incomplete and always will be.

You move to leave, to retreat from his piercing stare, but Bucky winds his arms around you. He hooks a finger under your chin and gently turns you back to face him. His eyes soften at the sight of your watery ones and he kisses you again, chastely, sweetly, this time.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t really care what parts you do or don’t have,” and again with those magical hands of his, he sets out to prove it to you.

They cup the sides of your face with reverence, one cool thumb caressing your kiss swollen lips. They then slowly begin their descend down your neck, ghosting over your chest, and smoothing down your belly, drawing soft lines toward your pelvis.

“Do you care that I can only ever hold you with one good arm?”

Your heart cracks at that thought. “No, I—!”

“You’re so beautiful. You don’t even know, do you?” Bucky then proceeds to ravish every part of your body with his sweet yet sinful mouth, leaving literally no inch of skin unkissed, only pulling back when he’s left his mark. “Thought you were a goddess the first time I saw you.”

“Oh, stop it,” you scoff, your cheeks warm, your arms curling around his shoulders.

“Still have my suspicions, actually,” he grins before grabbing your hips to flip you onto your back, swallowing your startled yelp with another searing kiss. Bucky doesn’t give you time to catch your breath before he’s tugging your clothes off, making you laugh at how eager he is, and tossing them carelessly onto the floor.

You feel exposed and vulnerable underneath him, but when you look up he only looks back at you with adoring eyes.

“I promise, sweetheart, you look all woman from where I’m standing.”

FIN.

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. followers with zero engagement, serial likers, and blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x asian!reader #tw: body image #tw: hysterectomy #tw: hysterectomies

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