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star-reaper · 1 day ago

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Arcane Silco x Reader One-shot - I Trust You

Synopsis: After the incident with Vander, you find what remains of the Silco you left at The Last Drop the night before. Now heart shattered, terrified, and close to death, he grips on tight to the only thing he has left as you try your best to comfort him and aid his wounds.

Young!Silco, Pre S1, Implied Fem!Reader but could be read GN, mentions of injury, blood, typical canon violence, knife mentioned, Hurt/Comfort, angst, established relationship, Medic!Reader

I've been inspired after wasting DAYS reading Silco fics, thank you fellow Arcane fanfic writers ❤️ Maybe I'll write more for the fandom?????

The cracked cobblestone paths of the cramped Undercity clack loudly under the worn soles of your boots. Your medic bag hangs loosely over your shoulder, the parched leather splitting at the seams as you toy with the fraying material between your nails.

You don't need to be told that tonight's highly-anticipated Uprising was a failure. You can judge its success based solely on the amount of rioters you saw in your office today; chipped teeth, brutal burn wounds, broken limbs, concussions. The unrest between Zaun and the ever-oppressive Piltover thickens with each passing minute, Enforcers becoming more violent and Zaunites only more angry.

Tonight's rally was meant to be the turning point, Zaun would fight back and push past the bridge, securing their futures with an iron grip and hearts full of hope. Vander spoke of it just yesterday evening, eyes gleaming with ambition saccharine sweet as he raised his glass of ale high in cheer. Silco, your Silco, with a smile so sure, so wide, you were certain you'd never seen him so excited.

"You're sure you can't make it?" He's asking you, shoulder jostling your own as he slides into the seat beside you at the bar. The cacophony of cheer around the bar following Vander's inspiring speech seems to die down and reduce to a droning chatter of voices and clinking dish ware.

Your eyes peel away from Vander — who is serving patrons left and right with an energy so radiant you can't help but shake your head at him, a small smile gracing your features — to meet Silco's sea-foamy green ones, peering down at you from the slant of his nose.

"You know riots mean people tend to get hurt. I'll be more needed at the med center, that's where I can do my part." You say, and it's true. The Undercity lacks in abundance, especially lacking in individuals with medical knowledge, much less an affordable one, or even a doctor you can trust. You've become an important addition to The Children of Zaun, and even more important to the citizens you look out for.

Silco nods, understanding, albeit disappointed that you won't be by his side. He wraps an arm loosely around your shoulders, pulling you in so he can press a chaste kiss to your temple.

"I know. This will be a big one, an important one. We'll be needing you down here."

You smiled softly, "You'll be careful, won't you?"

"As careful as I always am." Silco smirked.

"Great, so I'll be seeing you tomorrow night in my office is what I'm hearing?"

"Well, when you make it sound so scandalous I couldn't possibly miss out, my dear."

You're rolling your eyes at him, nudging him back with your adjacent shoulder as he chuckles. A peaceful silence overcomes the two of you as you soak in your surroundings at the bustling bar. Felicia is bickering with Vander at the counter, her vibrant purple braid flicked over her shoulder and Vander is laughing at her playful scowl.

"What will you do, if you succeed?" You ask suddenly.

Silco doesn't hesitate a second, "Not if. We will. We must succeed." His brows furrow for a moment, "I don't know what I will do. I'll come back for you, and then I suppose we will figure it out together like we always do. You trust me, don't you?"

You can't help but grin at that, "Of course I trust you."

Trust has always been one of the most important values holding you and Silco together. No matter what, you would always trust each other, to the ends of the earth. And you'd never stop reminding the other.

Your next thought is interrupted by Benzo, at least six ales down.

"There will be celebrations all through Zaun tomorrow night just you wait! In just another twenty four hours we will be commemorating our victories with each and every Zaunite throughout the city!"

But, as you make your way home it becomes blatantly apparent that there are no celebrations raging through Zaun tonight, there was no victory, and instead just an evening full of shattered hearts and broken bones.

Needless to say, Silco never did make it to your office tonight, and now as you walk back home on tired feet in the early hours of the dawn you find yourself wondering what state he could be in.

Silco may not be the strongest, but he's quick, and he's so painfully smart you can bet he hadn't been caught by Enforcers — but then if not carted away to Stillwater, why hadn't you seen him at the med center as you usually do after a riot? The nerves bite at your system, and you can only hope he is safe and sound at The Last Drop where you left him yesterday night, waiting for you to find in a few hours. First, you know you need to sleep off the fatigue of tending to the injured all night long.

You turn right into the alleyway that cuts through the block of stacked houses and cross the street to your home. As the door comes into view it is then that you feel a prickling sensation of unease creeping into your very being. You remove your hood from your head, peering at your surroundings cautiously in an effort to calm yourself. There's no one around. Nothing to explain the worry woven into your deepest instincts as you quicken your steps to the entrance of your abode.

The single key fished from the pocket of your med bag rattles in the rickety doorknob before the lock unlatches. The wood swings open with a creak.

There's water everywhere. Puddles of the polluted brown liquid spreads from the front entrance. It trails through the house where cabinets and drawers are left ajar and furniture lies knocked over on the uneven floor. You freeze in horror at the state of your belongings before spotting the streaks of blood on the floor and the counters of your kitchen. Whoever had trespassed had done it in a panicked struggle, things haphazardly left out all around the property. You huff a swear before dropping your bag as silently as you can at the front door, your tiredness suddenly swept away and replaced with unfiltered adrenaline. Survival-mode kicks in, and you're creeping with predator-like stealth to the kitchen. A peek into the open drawer confirms your suspicions, and whoever had broken in had stolen the large kitchen knife you stored and was likely wielding the weapon somewhere in your home.

You go for the next best thing, a rusted but still sharp pair of cooking scissors which you grasp tight in your palm, blade poised.

Following the trail of blood and water, your head swiveling vigilantly in every which direction, you make your way up the short flight of stairs to the second floor. Your bedroom door is wide open, a handprint of blood smeared across the edge of it in a rush. You take a deep, shuddering breath before slipping through the threshold.

The bed is left tidied and made, moth eaten sheets folded over the top of the frayed duvet and curtains billowing softly from the cold breeze which spills through the crack in the window. It's all in the state that you left it in. Your brows furrow in confusion before spotting the faint light which emanates from the crack under the adjoining bathroom door.

Your hands tremble as you creep towards the door, wondering if what lies behind it is the means to your fateful end. Teeth wearing into the flesh of your bottom lip, you stop and lean against the wall beside the bathroom. You listen, ears straining hard to hear through the barrier before you catch it.

It's the faint sound of someone crying, notable only by the quiet, shuddering breaths and wet sniffling that periodically breaks the whimpering noise.

It's then that you hear the low whisper interrupting the soft sobbing, the voice tinged with abysmal pain and fear, "Fuck—,"

Silco.

You're not even thinking as the scissors fall from your grasp, hitting the floor with a metallic clang before you wrench open the door and burst inside, heart thrumming viscously in the cage of your chest as you recognize your lover's voice.

Your breath catches hard in your throat at the sight before you; Silco, curled tightly in the basin of your bathtub, head to toe in soaking wet clothes stained with blood which drips from his face. His wet black hair hangs disheveled over half of his features, cloaking him in the raven locks. Your missing kitchen knife is clasped rigidly in between both hands, blade sticking straight out and bobbing with his labored breaths. His one visible eye widens in what you think is fear and his whole body freezes up at the sight of you, his legs scramble against the edge of the tub like he's trying to get away from you but all you can think is, he's hurt. You have to fix him.

"Silco," you rasp, reaching for him frantically with tears brimming in your eyes but before you know it he's yelling, pointing the blade of the knife at you and waving it around haphazardly.

"Stop—" He's crying, but the syllable comes out guttural and hoarse, "Don't touch me!"

You freeze, hands up to show you mean no harm and falling back on your knees to be eye level with him.

You swallow before you try to say anything, but the lump in your throat only grows ten-fold.

"Silco," you try, tentatively. "What happened?"

"Felicia's dead." Is what he manages to gasp, teeth gritting hard and eyes squeezing shut, another stray tear falling down his face.

You don't realize you're treating him like a patient until you're halfway done examining him with just a glance. His nails are bent and broken like he had scratched desperately at an unrelenting force, the torn collar of his jacket reveals blooms of a deep purple encompassing the surface of his throat and neck, blood pours from what you could see of his cheek, down his jaw and off the point of his chin. His eyes are swollen and bloodshot and his nose is definitely crooked— likely broken and the bruising is beginning to swell beneath his eyes. It doesn't take a genius to tell he had been asphyxiated, and beaten, hard.

Felicia. Felicia is dead. You're trying to hold onto your resolve, face relaxed as to not alarm him any further but your heart wants to cry out in agony. Another good soul, lost to a helpless cause. Another loved one, gone. You want to ask where Vander is, where Benzo is. Whatever it is that happened at the Uprising has clearly shaken Silco to the core, nearly unrecognizable with fear and shame and you worry that if you break down now nothing will be left to hold the rest of him together.

"I don't know where to go. I don't have anyone else." Silco is rambling now, voice sore and body shaking. "I can't go back. I can't go back, he'll finish me off."

"Silco, who? What's happened to you? I don't understand—" You can feel the tears spilling over and you choke on a sob, terrified for the man you love.

Silco shakes his head rapidly, he opens his mouth like he'll try to explain but is cut off by a cry so anguished you feel your own soul shattering. His shoulders tremble and you realize he must be freezing, his clothes saturated and the chill of the night air permeating his figure.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to get you a blanket and I'll come right back." you say gently.

He nods and hangs his head low, avoiding eye contact.

You retreat to the bedroom and pull your duvet right off the bed, also grabbing the forgotten glass of water left on the nightstand from the night before. You stand at the threshold of the bathroom peering in as non threatening as you can before taking a deep breath.

"I need you to put the knife down." you whisper.

Silco glances at the object in his hand and stares at it in shock for a split second, like he had not even realized he'd armed himself with your household items.

"I would never hurt you, Silco."

He takes a deep breath, and flips the blade before handing it over to you, handle out.

"Thanks," you whisper, placing the knife on the bathroom counter across from you. You trade it for the glass of water. "Here. Can I touch you?"

Silco takes a deep breath, eyes shut before nodding and wiping crudely at his cheek with the back of his hand, the skin pulling away wet with his tears.

You sit at the edge of the tub and pull the thick duvet into the basin, pausing over Silco's soaked figure.

"Do you want to take your clothes off? We can get you dry and warm."

He shakes his head no, but does pull off the bulky jacket, the wet fabric slapping against the surface of the porcelain bathtub. You drape the blanket over his shoulders, wrapping it around to his front and tucking it around him the best you can manage. He takes a long sip of the water, grimacing as he swallows and you try to catch a glimpse of the bruising on his neck.

"It's okay, I got you." You whisper. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I need to know what's wrong so I can fix it. You can even just point." You say, hand massaging tenderly over his blanketed shoulder.

"I-I can't see out of my left eye," He says, voice low and gravelly, "it hurts."

"Can I look?"

Silco lifts a hand and runs it through his long hair, pushing most of it back out of his face but a few unruly tresses fall back over his forehead. You can't help the gasp that falls from your lips as you survey the gashes running across his eye and mutilating the whole expanse of the area. Blood oozes from the wounds and the flesh swells bright red and pink and you know it's already infected. You can't save the eye, that much is evident.

"I need to clean it before the infection spreads any further, I'm sorry." You cringe, "It's going to hurt but you could die if I don't treat it now."

He nods. Silco seems to be of sounder mind now. Not relaxed by any means, but his breathing is controlled, his good eye is focused and he's understanding you.

You turn around to retrieve your personal medical supplies in the linen closet and find the bottle of antiseptic and gauze, when you turn around you meet Silco's gaze, his brows pressed together with worry and mouth pressed into a deep frown. The blood from his eye drips on the fabric of your blanket and stains it the color of rust.

"It was Vander." he says.

You freeze up, nearly dropping the bottle, "Vander did this to you?" you ask incredulously.

Silco nods. "I didn't mean to get her killed. I didn't mean it, none of this was supposed to happen, I—" he breaks off into silent tears again and you gently hush him.

You've never seen him cry in the many years you've spent together, now to witness it so many times in one night you have no idea how to handle it.

"It's okay, you can explain later. I trust you." You assure.

You tilt his chin to look at you and wipe the tears from his face.

"I trust you." You say again.

"Okay." Silco appeases, "I trust you, too."

It takes nearly an hour to clean out his wounds, by then the sun is beginning to rise, a blue haze filtering in through the windows and casting a glow on everything the light touches. Silco has stripped from his wet clothes and showered, but had asked sweetly if you would wait for him in the bathroom to which you comply.

He changes into dry clothes he had left here ages ago and now lies in your bed, curled up on his side. The blankets are tucked over him and he lays silently beside you while you card your fingers through his hair. His sighs against the skin of your shoulder.

You know he wants to sleep but fears the playback behind his eyes of the events of the failed Uprising, but his body can't physically stand to move anymore. His injured eye is packed under gauze and medical tape and you can only hope you did all that you could.

His eyes flicker up to yours, "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I owe you a proper explanation. Thank you, for caring for me."

"I'll always care for you, Silco. You don't owe me anything, this is what I'm here for. You can tell me when you're ready."

"Okay." He replies, stroking your cheek with the backs of his split knuckles before tangling gently in the hair at the nape of your neck. You lay like that together for a while, you drifting in and out of consciousness as the adrenaline wears off and the chaos of the day becomes a memory. You trace the sharp angular features of Silco's face lovingly, pressing a sleepy kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your mind wanders to Vander, to Felicia, to Felicia's two beautiful children and Benzo and The Last Drop.

You wonder if things will ever be the same again and your heart aches at the silent answer. You know you'll never be able to forgive the man who hurt Silco like this; destroyed him at his very core and you know he will never be the same again.

"We can't trust anyone now. Only each other." Silco says, voice thick with pain.

"I'll always trust you." You reply softly, "Sleep, Silco. You need to rest. We will figure it out in a few hours."

Your eyes drift closed after that, the last of your sentence trailing off as you succumb to your exhaustion. The last thing you see is the pretty green-blue eye of your lover, half lidded and glistening in the light of the sunrise.

"I love you."

#silco one shot #silco arcane #young silco #silco fanfic #silco angst #arcane #arcane fanfic #league of legends #silco x reader #my shaylaaaa #hurt/comfort #silco fluff

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asmutwriter · 2 days ago

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First Christmas (Dean x F!Reader)

DESCRIPTION: It's your first time celebrating Christmas since dating Dean. Lets just say he takes it very seriously.

A/N - Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you all have a good Christmas/solstice/Wednesday and enjoy some Dean fluff to help you celebrate

WORD COUNT: 972

One Shots / 'You Saved Me'

WARNINGS: established relationship, fluff with a light tone of more fluff

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story is based after the events of my series 'You Saved Me' (a Supernatural fan fiction) which I'd recommend reading before or after reading this

You roll over. Hand going to where Deans chest should be. Emphasis on the 'should'. You wink an eye open. The bed next to you completely empty. You give a small grumble. Unsure of what the time was but knowing it was way to early to be getting out of bed. Rubbing your eyes as you sit up. Squinting to see if he was in the room at all. It was dark outside. The only light coming into your room was that of the nights sky.

Not able to distinguish a figure you decide he's not in there. Reaching and grabbing for your phone to check the time. 4:07am. You were right. Way too early to be getting out of bed. You give another loud huff. Throwing the covers from your body before swinging your legs out from the warmth of your duvet.

The usual light in the hall was still on. You always had the one outside the girls room on. In case they needed the loo during the night then they could find their way to the correct place with minimal bumping into things. You could see the vague glow illuminating the upstairs corridor and falling into the hall down here. You look to the end of the hallway. Noting the light on in the living area.

Making your way sleepily down. Entering the room you see Dean sat at the dining room table. His gaze glancing up as he watches some cartoon on TV he has on in the living room. Muted with the subtitles on as to not disturb you or your daughters upstairs.

"Dean?" you whisper his name. He quickly turns to face you at hearing your voice. Turning back as he moves the wrapping he was using to hide the objects on the table. Paying the items no mind as you tiredly look at him. "What are you doing up at 4 in the morning?" He stands. Giving you a small cheeky smile as he glances downwards before looking back up at you.

"Well..." he coughs slightly. Looking back up. Trying and failing to act cool at the question. "I realised its Christmas in two days and I hadn't wrapped up the gifts I have for you or the girls... I decided to do it tonight as I know we'll likely be up late tomorrow and I won't have time but I wanted to do it before the morning so I could hide them properly". You smile at the cuteness of his notion. Going over to him you rest a hand onto his upper arm. Looking up into his green eyes as he looks down towards you.

"That is incredibly sweet". You take in a small breath. "If you want to wrap presents up then you can do it in the day. Say you need to borrow the bedroom or something and take everything into there. It saves you getting up at this time in the morning to do wrapping for us".

"But you or Anna or Lydia might suspect what I'm doing and try and look". You give a small chuckle. Nodding as you keep his steady gaze.

"I get what you mean about the girls". You scratch your head. Looking downwards slightly. Stroking down the hair your just dishevelled. Not that it overly mattered due to your already existing bed head. Looking back up at him. Giving a soft smile. "Have you wrapped everything up for me?" He gives you a blank look. Obviously saying no without the word coming from his mouth. You nod. "Ok". you go over to the kitchen. Continuing to speak as you walk to a drawer. "How about-" Grabbing out a plastic bag. Shutting the drawer shut again. Softly as to try and remain quiet so you don't wake the girls. He tries and shields your eyes from the gifts behind him with his body. Exaggerating his arms outwards. You walk back over to him. Holding the bag towards him.

"Put everything for me into here". He looks at the bag then back at you. Gently taking it from your grasp. You turn your back. Covering your hands over your eyes. Hearing shuffling as he moves everything in. A minute passes. Feeling him lightly tap your shoulder. Taking that as your cue to turn ack around and uncover your eyes. Which you do. A very noticeable bag shoved under the table but you pay it no attention. You never did have the desire to find out your presents were before you got them. "Can I look now?" he nods. Moving out your way. Seeing a few gifts already wrapped. Names scribbled into them. Smiling as you see ones for your children. You pick up the newspaper from the table. Raising your brow at him. He gives a sheepish smile. A small exhale of a laugh leaving his lips as he looks almost embarrassed.

"I couldn't find any proper paper". You give a laugh. Putting the paper back down as you go into the hallway and to the stairs. Going into the cupboard beneath it. Turning the small overhead light on as you try and locate the items you want. Smiling at your success. Grabbing out the festive paper and fancy labels. Going back over to the table and plopping them down. "You are a life saver". You laugh. Picking up a stuffed Olaf toy. Moving him to face Dean. Raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Let me guess. Anna?" He nods.

"She told me that she loves that movie and that Olaf is her favourite character so I'm not going to judge" he takes the toy from you. Whispering to the stuffed creature. "You're beautiful". Kissing the top of his little stuffed head. You smile.

"You're ridiculous" you playfully point out. Picking up other items and starting to wrap them.

TAGS: @sojuxxi

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dragonzair · 1 day ago

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UPDATE: Genuinely tired of having to do this. We took her into the ER on Christmas Eve since the second toe looked really bad. She stayed overnight, they did multiple tests- her hemoglobin levels have been really low so she's been on blood transfusion daily. We found out yesterday, on Christmas day, that it's not a minor surgery anymore. The entire foot has to be amputated. Our main surgeon is still on holiday till Monday which is when her actual surgery was scheduled, the resident surgeon said if her hemoglobin levels are good enough, they can do it tomorrow.

I don't know what that means anymore. We didn't tell my aunt this, but one of the reasons they kept her at the hospital is because she's in a "life-threatening" position. She can barely walk now because of the pain in her foot, so all our work into physiotherapy for her hip had to stop. We don't know what this means for the future either, me and my mom don't think she can head back home to the Philippines on the date she wants. This might be an even longer recovery process than we think, she's going to have rehab to learn to properly walk again without a right foot.

Please share this link, and donate if you can. And please pray for my family.

My 63-year old aunt, Merlina (Dina) Bayongan, is currently recovering at home from a broken hip, and the costs for surgery and medical treatment have become more than our family can afford on our own. Currently, the hospital has informed us that the bill is $20,000 CAD and likely to increase. My family and I are incredibly grateful for your assistance in paying for the costs of treatment so we can ensure her quality of life.

My aunt is a resident of the Philippines, who has been visiting my family for the last few weeks here in Canada. She broke her hip on November 28, after falling during a dizzy spell most likely due to a fever she had at the time. Being a tourist with no insurance, medical care is not covered under Canadian insurance policies. We ended up calling for an ambulance to take her to the hospital after we also realised she had developed an infection on her foot during her fever. This turned out to be a necessary call - during the ambulance ride, the paramedics became increasingly worried about the state of her hip, and X-Rays at the hospital confirmed that she had broken it in the fall.

My aunt stayed overnight at the hospital, where they informed us that her stay would cost $3000 per night out of pocket for the duration of her stay, and told us she needed to go into surgery the next day. Thankfully, the surgery has gone without any hitches, and she is recovering well, a fact that my family and I are eternally grateful for. They kept her a few days longer before she was able to come home. Despite everything, we are relieved that her injury occurred here in Canada, rather than back home in the Philippines, because the healthcare options for her are much better than what's available back home.

She is currently recovering at home, and has been improving in strength. We've been taking her for daily walks outside the apartment hallways, with the help of a walker lent by the hospital. We have a few other equipment on loan including a pushchair, and things to make our bathroom a bit more accessible, but we'll have to start covering the rental fees once the month ends.

She came to visit Canada after retiring back home in the Philippines as she wanted to experience snow for the first time, so we are really hoping she recovers well enough that we can at least take her outside to experience Canadian snow, and hopefully return home to her family and grandchildren back in the Philippines. The holidays will be rough for my family and hopefully with your help, we can make all this trouble worth it by getting our aunt back on her feet.

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writingbluerose · 2 days ago

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HAPPY HOLIDAYS !! | twst x reader

summary : being in another world you never got to spend Christmas with anyone, lucky for you, your family is always here to help

warnings : none :3 ; reader is Yuu and she's girl!

a / n : I'm super busy with my family on holidays so I'm giving you this short story because y'all deserve it! Also this may be a Skully x reader if you squit your eyes.

MERRY CHRISTMAS !!

You could hear the fire cackling in the fireplace bear you. Outside the Ramshackle dorm, the snow was slowly falling from the grey sky, no sun in sight. Everyone left for the holidays, which left you all alone in the campus once again, but this time there was no overblot in sight.

After a while, you caught with the corner of your eye how Grim jumped on the couch, setting himself on th spot next to you. “Why so blue henchhuman? Everyone finally left and we got the campus to ourselves!” You sighed and gave the cat a small smile. “Oh don't get me wrong Grim, I do enjoy the silence, but I'm kinda sad I don't get to celebrate Christmas with anyone you know?” At your statement, the grey cat gave you a confused look. “Christmas? What's that?” Oh yeah, you almost forgot people here don't know anything about that. You looked at the confused cat again and smiled at him. “That's nothing, don't mind me and my silly thoughts alright?” Grim knew you didn't mean a word you just said, he looked down in thought then raised his head again. “If you say so! I'm going to search for some tuna cans to eat!” He jumped excitedly off the couch and made his way to the kitchen. You let out a laugh and moved your attention to the white landscape outside the window.

Without you noticing, a faint glow appeared on the wall behind you. The portrait which was glowing turned fully white, signaling the one in it got out. You felt two hands on your shoulders and a happy laugh. You knew who that was without even looking. “I for one would love to hear more about Christmas! It sounds like an amazing holiday!” You turned to gaze to the boy behind you, two orange eyes looking excitedly into yours. “It's nothing too special Skully. It's just a simple holiday from back home” “Tell me, tell me! I'm curious now my dear!” You laughed at him and gave him a smile. “Well if you insist, the alright” Skully sat on the spot next to you with his hands on his knees waiting for your tale. “Well, it's practically like this...”

“That's amazing! I never knew you had such an amazing holiday and such amazing traditions! I'll be more than happy to celebrate Christmas with you my dear!” “Oh no no! There's really no need Skully! I mean we don't even have all the things for it, and it's practically tomorrow! We really don't need to- ” Skully grabbed your hands and moved closer to you with one of the biggest smiles he's capable of “I insist! We'll have the best Christmas party ever! I promise you!” Before you tried convincing him otherwise the other ghosts came back in the lounge. “What's this about a party we're hearing? We want to join in too” “Ah perfect! Listen to me my friends!” And so Skully proceeded to tell the ghosts everything about you just told him. You were staying on the couch still, with your face buried in your hands. How did it come to this? “So you see! It's important for our dear Y/N to have the best Christmas party ever!” The ghosts looked at each other and then smiled brightly at you. “We'll be honored to help! Miss Y/N is family! So her happiness is ours! You can count on us Mr. Skully!” “Amazing then!” While discussing their plans, Grum couldn't come at a worse time. Getting Grim to, it seems that now it was impossible for you to stop anymore.

You were outside your dorm, sitting in the snow. Skully and the others rushed you out of the dorm to make preparations for the party, the ghosts had gone out of their way to even find a Christmas tree for you, you suppose they decorated it since it kinda took them quite long to prepare everything, you were out for almost 5 hours after all. In that time you paid a visit to Mostro Lounge, the Octavinelle boys were more than happy to accompany you while eating, surprisingly, the food was on the house. After a while of staying there, you came back to take strolls outside your dorm, taking th same steps you usually take with Malleus when he comes by. After some time, you heard Grim's voice calling you from the entrance door. “Y/N! We're done! Come on fast!” You made your way inside and you couldn't believe your eyes. Everything, from top to bottom was covered in decorations, red, gold and some occasional black as the color of the dorm. “What...how did you even do this? Where did you get all this from?! You even decorated the Christmas Tree! With a start too! Wh-how...?” Skully came and hugged you tight, happy with your reaction. “See? We told you we would make the perfect party for you!” “Yeah! We even stole from the school's kitchen to make the food! And it's super tasty by the way!” Grim jumped on your shoulder giving you a wife grin. “Now come on come on! Let's get this party started!” Skully and the ghosts went and grabbed the food to set them on a table in the lounge and urged you to eat. Never in all the time you were here were you this happy.

The party ended some time ago. You were staying with Skully under his portrait, his hand holding yours. “Can't believe you made all this for me Skully” He looked at you with a smile. You almost forgot how he looked with his black glasses on his eyes, but his orange eyes never failed to amaze you. “Of course my dear friend! Always! This house is your home, and the others are your family! I just did what I needed to, for you. I have to thank you for staying with me for so long after all” He raised the back of your hand to his mouth and kissed it, keeping his lips there for a while longer. You looked at him and smiled, lowering your head on his shoulder, his head coming to rest on yours. “Thank you, Skully” He smiled. “You're welcome my dear, and, Merry Christmas” Your smile got wider as you answered him in a whisper. “Yes, Merry Christmas to you too”

You think that, after all, that you're grateful for what you've gotten when you came here.

#Skully is a special type of ghost you see #I live for my Ramshackle family crumbs it's what fuels me everyday when i wake up #also I didn't intend to make this a Skully x reader fic so i don't know what this is lmao #anyway #MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL WOOHOO #and happy holidays <33 #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #skully #skully j graves #skully x reader #skully j graves x reader

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okaysonny · 2 days ago

Text

the one where they lose yenna ╎ zack + johan

❤️ @always-lovingly — hope you like it!

ᯓ★ summary: eli bestows zack with the greatest honour: babysitting yenna. nothing will go wrong, right?

ᯓ★ details: fluff, no reader, spoilers for 517 onwards, canon dynamics. (aka zack and johan's relationship is platonic)

ᯓ★ wc: 3.4k - on the longer side...sorry

ᯓ★ A/N: I HATED MAKING THIS!!! comedy is really hard to write + i feel like i waffled too much... made a post about it, but this fic is drawn from s2, ep6 of friends (the one with the baby on the bus)

how did they get ben back with no paperwork/confirmation? idk but it makes my job easier #yes

divider: @thecutestgrotto

"what? you want me to look after zami tomorrow?"

"…her name is yenna" eli smiles at him sheepishly. "and yes. i have to unexpectedly work at the fruit stall. derek got a stomach bug and there's no one to cover for him. plus, the daycares closed on saturdays. would you mind?"

"…eli…i can't believe this…"

of course. eli should've expected this. what eighteen year old wants to spend their saturday babysitting?

"sorry zack. don't worry about it. i'll get someone else to— "

"i can't believe you're trusting me to babysit zam— i mean yenna!" a beam of light is practically shining on him.

eli blinks. he swears he can see zack's eyes well up.

"do you really trust me to? you really think i'm worthy?!"

well, he wasn't expecting that. eli laughs softly, shaking his head. "well…you visit her a lot and you're really great with her. i think you'd do a good job"

zack covers his mouth, trying not to cry in front of the beauty department's only guy. he does visit yenna a lot. how can he not? the fact that the baby he found happened to be eli's daughter…it felt like fate.

he coughs into his hand, composing himself, before looking at eli with determination - the determination of being the best babysitter in the world. "…it would be my honour"

eli smiles softly. he was hesitant in entrusting yenna with someone who misnames her half the time. but now, he doesn't regret it one bit.

"…thanks, zack"

"oh…you really came prepared, huh?"

zack has come prepared. he still owns that baby carrier from before. he also wears something without buttons this time. and he still uses gel, but not too much gel, because the spikes could stab her.

"of course!" he nods enthusiastically. "only the best for zam— yenna! mesh ventilation to ensure maximum comfort!"

eli can't help but chuckle. "that's…very nice of you"

with one hand, eli hands zack a list of instructions and a bag of supplies. his other hand is holding yenna, as adorable as she always is.

"…if anything happens, call me. i'll try make it back as soon as possible" he hesitantly hands yenna over, her little hands grabbing at zack's face.

"ba!" she squeals.

his eyes light up. "zam— yenna!" he cradles her head gently. "don't worry, eli ! she's safe with me!"

he nods, exhaling slowly. he reaches out to stroke her hair fondly. "you have a good time with uncle zack, okay? i'll be back before you know it" he whispers.

eli steps back, checking the time on his phone. "shoot, i need to go. you'll be fine, right?"

zack grins, using yenna's hand to give him a little wave. "yes, yes. go and chop fruit or whatever"

eli waves back and zack watches as his figure slowly gets smaller. he looks down at her, speaking with conviction.

"alright, zami. uncle zack will give you the best day of your life"

"what the hell, man? why'd you bring a baby here?"

okay, so saturday just happened to coincide with his study session. but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

zack hastily covers her ears. "don't swear in front of yenna! this is eli's daughter, y'know?! i'm an uncle on babysitting duty"

johan looks down at yenna with a mix of contempt and confusion, her big eyes staring back at him.

"ba?"

she's holding a baton with the top of a toy wand attached to it. his brows furrow, remembering his fight with eli.

Are you messing with me? What's with the toy?

whoops. in his defense, how was he meant to know?

johan sighs in exasperation and closes his book. "we're not getting anything done if she's here. by the way, don't expect me to help, alright? you're on your own"

"hmph. yenna doesn't want to hear your obscenities anyway" he pats her head protectively.

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, okay"

yenna suddenly starts smacking her baton-wand against the edge of the table, the smile never leaving her face.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

zack stares at the wand, already dented from her relentless attack on the furniture.

"alright yenna, that's enough of that" he says nervously, gently prying it out of her hand. she immediately starts to fuss, her big eyes tearing up.

johan glares at him. "nice job, genius. now she's going to cry"

"hush!" zack snaps. he waves the wand awkwardly in front of yenna’s face. "see, yenna? it's all better!"

yenna, unimpressed, lets out a wail that could rival a siren.

johan groans and presses his fingers to his temples. "you need to get something to keep her quiet. a softer toy maybe"

zack perks up at the suggestion. "hey, we should go to the city! we can grab something real quick!"

"we?"

"yes, we. you're not sitting on your ass while i do this alone" he grumbles.

johan stares at him in disbelief, but yenna’s cries grow louder, and he visibly gives in. “fine. but if she screams on the bus, i'm out”

zack grins, already packing up. he turns to yenna with a cheerful voice. "alright princess, let’s go find you the perfect toy!"

"...gross"

"you're gross" he mumbles, as they make their way to the bus stop.

zack awkwardly adjusts the baby carrier strapped to his chest, yenna wriggling furiously against him.

“why is she squirming so much?” johan asks, sitting in the seat across from him, his arms folded.

“she’s probably uncomfortable” zack shifts the straps again. yenna lets out an irritated whine, kicking her tiny feet against his stomach. “c’mon, work with me here…”

johan leans back. “maybe she can sense you have no idea what you’re doing”

“real helpful, johan. you wanna take over?” he glares at him while holding the carrier steady.

“pass”

“yeah, that’s what i thought” zack adjusts the carrier again, but yenna’s whining only gets louder. people start glancing over, their expressions ranging from amused to annoyed.

“okay, okay. hang on” he sighs in defeat, unbuckling the straps, gently lifting yenna out of the carrier and onto his lap.

“so now you’re happy, huh?” zack mutters. yenna’s only response is a delighted giggle as she smacks his knee with her baton-wand.

“you’re spoiling her” johan comments, deadpan.

“what do you know about babies, johan?”

he shrugs. "if you say so"

yenna, meanwhile, starts squirming again, clearly eager to explore her surroundings.

“you wanna stretch those tiny legs?” zack carefully sets her down on the floor of the bus. she stands unsteadily for a moment, then takes a few steps, laughing as she bangs her toy against the metal pole by their seats.

“...are you seriously letting her walk around here?”

“she needs some freedom!” zack defends himself, his eyes flicking between yenna and johan. "she's only a baby, it’s not like she’s gonna go far"

“...right”

“calm down. i'm watching her!” zack beams confidently, leaning back in his seat while keeping one eye on yenna.

for a moment, the two of them sit in silence, the bus rumbling along as she continues her wobbly exploration of the aisle.

“...y’know, you’re pretty calm for someone who's scared of babies”

johan shoots him a glare. “i’m not scared of babies”

“you totally are! the look on your face when she said ‘ba’ was priceless”

johan’s eyes narrow. “keep talking and i’ll make you ‘ba’ yourself”

they continue bickering, their voices overlapping as yenna toddles around the aisle, occasionally smacking the bus poles with her baton-wand.

the bus screeches to a halt at their stop. zack stands up, slinging the bag full of baby supplies over his shoulder. "alright, this is us"

johan follows closely behind as they get off, stepping onto the bustling city street. the sound of car horns and chatter fill the air, and zack immediately starts scanning the area.

“so” johan drawls, looking around. “what exactly are we looking for? a squeaky duck? a magic wand that doesn’t double as a weapon?”

“something soft, like you said” zack adjusts the straps of the carrier on his shoulder. "i never want to hear that banging noise again"

johan opens his mouth to speak, but pauses. his eyes flick down, then back up to zack, his face suddenly paling.

“...zack?” his voice is unusually tense.

“what?” zack asks distractedly, glancing around for a toy store.

johan's face is laced with panic.

“where’s the baby?”

“what are you talking about? she’s right—”

but she isn't. he glances down at the empty carrier on his shoulders, his voice catching in his throat.

we left her on the bus.

"johan, you rat!" zack snarls. "how could you forget about our child?"

"how the fuck is this my fault? you’re the one babysitting her!" johan snarls back. "and what do you mean our child?"

the argument attracts curious stares from passerby.

zack waves his hand dismissively, his movements frantic. "who cares?!" he yells, sprinting off. "we need to catch that fucking bus!"

zack hears johan groan, but his footsteps quickly follow after, the bus luckily still in sight as it makes a turn.

"it's fine!" zack pants. "we just need to alert the bus driver and it'll be fine!"

they turn around the corner, but stop in their tracks.

they're both flabbergasted as it's joined by two other identical buses on their route, the traffic blocking the vehicles out of sight regardless. something out of a 90's sitcom.

zack's lip begins to tremble. he's a dead man. will he die without knowing mira's touch?

he aggressively shakes his fist at the sky. "OH COMPASSIONATE BUDDHA!!! why have you forsaken me?"

"...what the fuck? relax. let's just..." johan pants, trying to catch his breath. "let's just think, okay? there's gotta be a way to fix this"

they both stand in contemplation.

they can fix this, right?

"thank you! please come again~" eli hands over the bag of fruit cheerfully, waving the customer goodbye.

his smile falters.

strange. he suddenly has a weird feeling.

he shakes his head, shrugging it off. it's probably nothing, he says to himself.

"the transit authority!" zack exclaims, an imaginary light bulb appearing on his head. "the bus drivers' hand all lost property to them. we just need to call and let them know we left a baby! she has to be with them! no idiot would leave a baby on the bus!"

johan nods, both of them blissfully unaware of the irony. "i was gonna say that"

zack scoffs. "sure you were. now, all we need to do is—"

zack's phone rings. he looks at the screen, his eyes widening in horror.

"i-it's eli" he stammers.

a smile tugs on johan's lips, slightly amused. he gestures to the phone. "answer it. it's gonna look suspicious if you don't"

zack glares at him, but doesn't argue. he breathes out slowly before accepting it.

"eli !" his voice is incredibly high pitched. "what's up? shouldn't you be chopping lemons or something?"

"i'm on my break" he laughs. "i just wanted to check in. is everything okay, zack?"

"everything's fine!" he chirps. "me and yenna are having a great time!"

"...that's good. would you mind putting her on the phone? i want to hear her voice" he says gently.

fuck.

johan smirks, not even trying to hide it anymore, watching zack in anticipation.

zack closes his eyes, pausing.

he does the only thing that comes to mind, shoving the phone near johan's mouth. the latter's face drops.

what the hell are you doing? he mouths.

zack covers the phone so eli can't hear.

"act like a baby" he hisses.

"over my dead body"

"just do it, you hobo! or i'll tell your mom you failed english again" he glares.

"...you wouldn't"

"wanna find out?"

"um...zack?" eli speaks up again. "what's going on? is she—"

"...goo goo?" johan squeaks, removing zack's hand from the speaker.

zack winces. he's heard better acting in porn.

radio silence.

"is she okay? she sounds a bit—"

"i think she needs a diaper change! bye eli !" he hangs up quickly.

johan stares daggers at him, his cheeks slightly flushed. "i'm gonna beat your ass"

zack shrugs, googling the number for the transit authority. "you can beat my ass after we find zami"

"...i thought her name was yenna?"

the human resources department is a picture of monotony, the ticking of the clock being the loudest sound in the room. the clerk behind the desk often jokes to himself that he lives in a time loop. every day was the same — forms to file, complaints to process, and the occasional awkward phone call. nothing ever changes, and he's stopped expecting it to.

until today.

the phone on his desk buzzes, cutting through the endless drone of routine.

“transit authority here” the caller begins briskly. “we’ve got a...situation. someone called claiming they left a baby on one of our buses”

the man blinks, the pen in his hand frozen mid-air. “a baby?”

“yeah. a little girl. we’ve got her safe now, but we’re bringing her over to your department, since...you know, you handle these things” the voice sounds exasperated, as if they can’t believe they're saying this either.

he swivels slightly in his chair, still trying to process the information. “so, wait. someone just...left their baby on the bus?”

“that’s what we’ve been told” the caller says with an audible sigh. “the guy on the phone sounded panicked. i told him to go to your building”

"...what kind of idiot leaves their baby on a bus?"

“i’m asking myself the same question”

hanging up the phone, the clerk leans back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief.

this is new.

he glances at the clock, bracing himself for what kind of man would walk through the door.

or men, he should say.

the door to the department bursts open, startling the clerk so badly he nearly knocks over his coffee. his head snaps up, expecting one man, but instead, there were two.

they both look like they just sprinted a marathon. the first, a broad shouldered guy with a baby carrier strapped awkwardly across his chest, is hunched over, gasping for air. his face bore the genuine panic of someone who just lost something irreplaceable.

the second young man follows behind him, his sharp eyes darting around the room, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

the clerk stares at them, dumbfounded, as they both stand there panting. finally, he clears his throat, glancing at the baby carrier. “so… i’m guessing you’re here for the baby?”

"y-yes! the baby...we called about the baby! is she here?" zack heaves.

"...she's here"

zack and johan sigh in relief.

"is one of you the father?"

zack rubs his neck shyly. "ah...well no, but we know her very well. can we collect her?"

the older man crosses his arms. "if neither of you are, you'll need to call one of her parents, so we can confirm guardianship"

fuck.

zack looks at johan in wordless communication. it'll be awkward. it'll be difficult. but they both know what they have to do.

"w-what i meant to say was..." zack slowly wraps an arm around johan's shoulder, cursing his sudden high pitched voice. "we're actually both the fathers"

zack leans his head against johan's, trying to control his trembling lip as he smiles sweetly.

the clerk presses his own lips into a thin line, not looking convinced.

johan sighs and briefly scrunches his nose before laying his hand on top of zack's, leaning into his touch. his smile is incredibly fake and plastered. he's afraid he'll commit murder otherwise.

"mhm..." johan manages to croak out.

radio silence.

if the clerk doesn't believe them, it seems he doesn't care enough to press further. he shrugs, gesturing to the door at the back. "alright. right this way—"

that's all they need to hear before they bolt to the door, flinging it open.

yenna is sitting on a small cot, gripping her beloved baton-wand in one hand. she’s completely unbothered, her big eyes scanning the room with innocent curiosity. she gives the wand a few lazy taps against the cot, unaware of the trouble they had to go through.

the moment zack spots her, he rushes over, scooping her up without hesitation. “yenna! we’re so sorry! your uncles are so sorry” he says, his voice filled with guilt. he hugs her tightly, rocking her gently. “uncle zack won't let this happen again, okay? never, ever”

standing just behind him, johan watches silently. "...you’re so ridiculous" he mutters. but zack knows he doesn't mean it. he knows him too well to not spot the softness in his voice.

he doesn’t look back, too wrapped up in stroking yenna's back. "couldn't care less, mommy's boy"

as zack shifts yenna in his arms, her tiny hand stretches out behind him, her fingers reaching for johan. johan hesitates for a moment, glancing down at her outstretched hand, before gently taking her little fingers in his big ones. the room is quiet, the world around them seeming to pause.

johan’s lips curve into a small, genuine smile, one he doesn’t realise he’s wearing. he gently plays with her fingers, a silent exchange passing between them.

zack glances over his shoulder and freezes when he spots it.

a slow grin spreads across his face. “i knew it!” he blurts out, triumphant. “i knew you secretly felt the same way!”

johan's ears turn faintly pink but he doesn't let go of yenna’s hand. “...shut up”

zack snickers. “you don’t fool me anymore! everyone knows you’re actually a big softie”

johan grits his teeth, his grip not leaving her fingers. "whatever, man"

they don't see the clerk silently watching them through the door, his hand hovering over its knob.

he did think they were lying. they were way too jittery to be convincing.

but the sight of the scene made him stop. the broader one, cradling the baby so protectively and murmuring apologies with a guilt-stricken face.

the other, quieter one, gently holding the baby’s hand with a softness that doesn’t match his standoffish appearance.

it’s a moment so tender, so raw, that the clerk pauses, his hand lowering from the door knob. maybe he was being too narrow-minded.

he shakes his head with a bemused smile and turns away, leaving them to their privacy. as he walks back to his desk, he mutters to himself.

"what a progressive world we live in"

after parting ways with johan, who pats yenna's head for a little too long, he sits on a bench, waiting for eli's return.

"okay zami. you had a good time with uncle zack and uncle johan, alright? nothing crazy happened"

"ba!" she chirps back, as if she understands.

zack nods solemnly. "good"

"zack! hey!"

he sees eli walk over, sally with him.

zack spots eli's jaw tense a little less as he sees yenna safe and sound. she instantly reaches out, squealing at the sight of him.

"there you are..." eli beams, gently carrying her. "did you have a good time with uncle zack?" he says softly.

yenna aggresively shakes the wand in response.

he laughs and then looks up at zack. "so, how was it? did she give you much trouble?"

he waves a hand dismissively. "of course not! cool as a breeze. no problems at all"

"wow" sally grins. "eli, you should have him babysit more often!"

eli smiles, his gaze shifting back to yenna. "yeah...thanks a lot zack. i was worried because you hung up suddenly...i guess i was just being paranoid"

i'm off the hook! zack tries not to appear too excited.

he sighs, looking pleased with himself. "psh. don't worry. just had to focus all my attention on her. i'd never leave her out of my sight"

he nods, removing some lint from her clothes. "yeah, i get it. seriously, thanks a—"

he pauses, his smile suddenly dropping.

"hey zack?"

"...yes?" he looks up in anticipation.

is he gonna promote me as official babysitter?

eli turns yenna around, lifting her dress up slightly to reveal a big, bold PROPERTY OF HUMAN SERVICES stamp.

"what's this?" he asks, his voice a little too sweet.

zack's face drops. he can feel comical sweat beads appearing on his forehead.

"w-well that's uh..." he begins, but the words don't form.

eli silently hands yenna to sally, the grin now wiped clean from her face, being replaced with awkwardness instead.

eli smiles at him as he walks closer, pulling his sleeves up and cracking his knuckles.

"sally? please cover her eyes" he says quietly, his stare never leaving zack.

"wait eli !" he splutters. "let's just talk about this! it was—"

PUNCH

"owww! fuck! okay fine! just watch the hair—"

PUNCH

A/N: posted this on boxing day because zack is a BOXER 💜

#lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism comic #lookism fanfiction #lookism x reader #lookism fluff #lookism imagines #lookism fic #zack lee #lookism zack #johan seong #lookism johan #eli jang #lookism eli jang #lookism fanfic

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lilmisshellfireswritingblog · 2 days ago

Text

The Prophecy Chapter 2: Even Statues Crumble

Summary: Aurelia prepares for her wedding to Lucius Verus and marries him to save her own life.

A/N: Thank you for reading this little idea of mine. It literally came to me as I was listening to The Prophecy in the car on the way to work. If you have any requests as to like blurbs or one shots that happen within this universe, please let me know. I also don't do tag lists but, I appreciate the support! Warnings: 18+, arranged marriage, forced marriage, talks of death, second guessing, weddings, Geta being an a-hole, use of flashbacks, talking about wanting to die, emotions., and as always, let me know if I missed any.

Flashbacks are labeled as such.

Separator banner credit to: sweetmelodygraphics.

Aurelia’s gaze flitted to the reflection of the gown on the bed, her heart sinking. The fabric seemed to mock her. Every thread, every seam, a reminder of the future she never wanted. She felt suffocated by her obligations—by the weight of what was expected of her. Her father, her mother, the Senate, the people—they had all decided for her. They had all played their parts in crafting her destiny, and now she was nothing more than a pawn in a game of politics.

The door opened behind her with a soft creak, but she didn’t turn. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this—not tonight. Not before the wedding.

Her servant, Flavia, stepped in cautiously, her voice gentle as she spoke. "Your Highness, everything is prepared. The gown... the feast… everything is ready for tomorrow.."

Aurelia stood still for a long moment, her hands gripping the windowsill. The breeze from the open window fluttered her hair around her face, but she didn’t feel the coolness of it. She barely felt anything at all. She was numb.

“Aurelia?” Flavia’s voice was concerned now, soft but insistent.

Aurelia slowly turned toward her, her face unreadable, her eyes tired but defiant. “You were right to be excited for me,” she said bitterly, her words sharper than she intended. "But I’m not." She felt the sting of tears rising in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would not cry in front of anyone—not now.

Flavia hesitated, her brow furrowing with worry. “You don’t have to go through with this. You know that, right? You can—”

“No,” Aurelia interrupted sharply, stepping away from the window, her voice suddenly hoarse. “I have no choice. I am to be the Emperor’s wife, whether I want to be or not. It’s this or die.”

Her words cut through the air, thick with the weight of resignation. She hated them. She hated the fact that her life was no longer hers to control. She had no say in who she married, no say in what her future would be. Her marriage to Geta had been forced upon her, too, but at least she had known him, had grown accustomed to his cruelty. This marriage—this union with Lucius Verus—felt like a strange cruelty of its own.

Flavia opened her mouth to protest again, but Aurelia cut her off with a soft, bitter laugh.

“You don’t understand, Flavia,” she whispered, her hands trembling at her sides. “Geta and Caracalla are dead. The empire is in the hands of men who would never think twice about tearing me apart. I am a puppet. A trophy wife. Tomorrow, I’ll stand before the Senate, and they’ll pretend to care, while they all gawk at the new Empress. And Lucius…” She paused, her voice thick with disdain, “He doesn’t want me. He’s just another part of the game. Another ruler who’ll sit beside me in the throne room and we’ll both pretend to love each other.”

Flavia moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Aurelia’s arm. “He’s not like the others, Aurelia. Lucius—he’s different. He was a gladiator. He knows what it means to fight, to survive. He’s not like the men who’ve ruled before.”

Aurelia’s lips trembled at the words. She wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe that Lucius, this gladiator-turned-emperor, was different. That maybe, through some strange twist of fate, he might understand her pain. But the truth was more complicated than that.

She stepped away from Flavia’s touch, pacing slowly toward the edge of the room. Her fingers lightly brushed against the fabric of the wedding gown once more, the weight of it pulling her down. "I don’t want to marry him,” she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else. “I don’t want this life. I don’t want any of it."

The words hung in the air, thick with the despair she had not allowed herself to feel until now. There was a part of her, a small, fragile part, that wanted to scream at the heavens. Why me? Why is it always me who has to bear the weight of the empire’s cruelty?

Flavia, sensing the depth of her distress, approached her once more, her voice softer this time, filled with empathy. "You don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to. You are strong, Aurelia. You can walk away from this. There are other ways."

Aurelia looked at her, her eyes clouded with pain. “What other ways, Flavia? Do you think the Senate would let me walk away? Do you think I could just... disappear?” Her voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, her composure shattered. "I am nothing but a political pawn in their game. If I don't marry Lucius, I’ll be executed. They’ll kill me and then they’ll put someone else on the throne."

Flavia’s heart broke at the words, but she stood still, not knowing how to comfort her. There was no escape, not really. Not for Aurelia. Not for the woman who had already lost everything.

“I have nothing,” Aurelia whispered, her voice hollow. “Nothing left. Nothing to give. Nothing to hope for. This marriage... this wedding... it’s all a lie.”

Tears filled Aurelia’s eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, turning away from Flavia. “I wish I could die before tomorrow. Just to be free of all of this.”

Flavia’s breath hitched, panic rising in her chest. She grabbed Aurelia by the shoulders, turning her to face her. “Don’t say that, Aurelia. Don’t even think it! You’re strong. You have so much to live for.”

Aurelia pulled away gently, her voice strained and broken. “What do I have to live for? This empire? This crown?” She gestured helplessly to the room, to the gown she would wear tomorrow, to the life that awaited her. “I never asked for any of this. I didn’t want this.”

She sank into a chair, her head buried in her hands as she trembled. Flavia stood helplessly nearby, watching the woman she had served for so long unravel before her eyes.

And for a moment, the silence between them was unbearable, filled only with the weight of unspoken sorrow.

Aurelia’s thoughts were a whirl of darkness and pain but in the quiet, with the wedding gown looming in the distance, she knew—deep down—that she had to keep moving forward, whether she wanted to or not.

It was marriage or death.

For tomorrow, whether she accepted it or not, she would marry Lucius Verus and she would be Empress once more.

Flashback ~ Before Her Marriage to Geta

The night before her wedding to Emperor Geta, Aurelia lay in her bed, the cool sheets tangled around her legs, but it was the storm in her mind that kept her awake. She stared up at the high, vaulted ceiling, the shadows of the room stretching long and dark, as if the very walls were closing in on her.

She had barely eaten at dinner. She had hardly spoken. The weight of the marriage, of the future that awaited her, hung like a shroud. Tomorrow, she would walk down the aisle in a gown of white and gold, and before the Senate and the people of Rome, she would become Empress Aurelia, the wife of a man she barely knew, a man she had been told to marry to secure her family's place in the empire.

But Aurelia did not want this. Not this life. Not with him. She never wanted the titles or the riches.

A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, but one was clear: she could not go through with it. She would not. If there was any way to escape, to avoid this fate, she would find it. She had to.

She slipped out of bed, her bare feet cold against the marble floor. She had worn the finest silken gown, but now she felt it like a weight—a symbol of the chains that bound her to this life she had not chosen. Moving quickly, she crept to the door, her heart hammering in her chest. The guards would be outside, she knew. They always were. But what if she could slip past them? What if she could leave the palace unnoticed?

Aurelia moved silently through the darkened corridors, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she pressed herself into the shadows, listening carefully for any signs of movement. The stone walls of the palace seemed oppressive in their silence, like the very architecture was conspiring against her.

She reached the door that led to the garden, the place where she used to play as a child, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like a distant memory. The scent of roses filled the air, the sound of the night insects buzzing faintly in the distance. She stepped outside, the cool night air hitting her skin, and felt a fleeting sense of freedom.

But just as she began to move toward the edge of the gardens, a voice sliced through the silence.

“Aurelia.”

Her heart leapt into her throat. She froze. Slowly, she turned to find Marcus Cassius, her father, standing in the shadows, his face unreadable but stern. He had been watching her. Of course he had. The guards would never have let her slip by without reporting it.

“You should be in bed,” he said, his voice soft but firm, like the press of a blade against her throat.

“I—” Aurelia began, but her words faltered. She had no excuse. No lie would work.

She was tired of lying.

“I can’t do this, Father,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t marry him. I can’t marry Geta.”

Marcus took a slow step forward, his face illuminated by the moonlight, and Aurelia saw the flicker of something in his eyes—concern, perhaps, or disappointment. It was hard to tell. His features were always so controlled.

“I know this isn’t what you want,” he said, his tone gentle, but there was an undercurrent of something darker, something unyielding. “But it is what you must do.”

Aurelia’s chest tightened, her breath coming faster as the weight of his words crushed her. “I don’t care about what I must do!” she snapped, her voice rising. “I care about what I want, what I need. And I need to be free. Free from this. I don’t belong with Geta. I don’t love him. How can you ask me to marry a man I barely know, someone I’ve heard only whispers of? How can you force me into this life?”

Her father’s eyes softened, but the hardness in his face never wavered. “It’s not about love, Aurelia,” he said, his voice almost too calm. “This is about Rome. This is about securing the future of our family. Your marriage to Geta will ensure that we remain in power, that our name remains in the annals of history. You were born to be a part of this.”

Aurelia stepped back, shaking her head in disbelief. “I never asked for this. You’ve always made choices for me, Father, but I’m not a child anymore. I’m not some pawn for you to place in a marriage bed just to secure alliances. I want my own life. I want to choose my own path.”

Marcus’s gaze hardened, his jaw tightening. “You’ve never had a choice, Aurelia. You’ve always known that. The empire does not offer choice to women like you. You are a Cassia, and that means you have a duty. Do you think your mother didn’t know this when she married me? Do you think she didn’t understand that duty? That she didn’t make sacrifices for it?”

Aurelia recoiled, her breath catching in her throat. She had never heard her father speak of her mother with such coldness. It was as if the warmth of her mother’s memory—of her kindness and devotion—was gone, swept away by the weight of duty and power.

“I don’t want to be like her,” Aurelia said, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands trembling at her sides. “I don’t want to give up everything for the empire. I don’t want to be controlled.”

Her father’s expression faltered, just for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. “You have no choice. Neither does Geta. The Senate has already approved this marriage. The people will expect it. If you do not comply, there will be consequences for us both.”

Aurelia’s world felt like it was collapsing around her. The walls of the palace, the stone and marble, seemed to close in on her, suffocating her. “I don’t care about their consequences!” she cried, her voice breaking, but even as she said it, she knew she was lying. She cared about the consequences—she cared deeply. A refusal would mean disgrace, dishonor, and ruin for her family. And for herself.

“You must go through with it,” Marcus said quietly, his voice final. “You will meet Geta tomorrow. You will marry him. And you will do it for Rome. For us. For your future.”

Aurelia’s knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the stone bench in the garden, her hands pressing against her face. The tears she had been holding back for so long finally spilled over, and for the first time in years, she felt utterly, completely powerless.

Her father’s gaze lingered on her, but there was no sympathy in it. Only the cold, unyielding expectation of a Roman nobleman.

“You will learn to accept it,” he said quietly, before turning and walking back toward the palace.

Aurelia was left alone, the sound of his footsteps fading as the weight of her reality set in. She could run. She could scream. But she knew, deep down, that there was no escape. Not for her. Not from the life her father had chosen for her.

Aurelia stood in front of the full-length mirror, her reflection hazy in the soft light of the candle-lit chamber. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the silk robe that clung to her skin. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional clink of jewelry being prepared by her attendants. The noise from outside—laughter, music, the murmur of the Senate gathering for the ceremony—seemed distant, almost foreign to her in this moment of solitude.

Her wedding day. It should have been a day of joy, of hope for a future that could be built in the light of love and partnership. But for her, it felt like the closing of a door she had never intended to open.

The door to the chamber opened slowly, and one of her handmaidens entered, holding the delicate wedding gown in her arms. Aurelia’s eyes flickered toward it for a moment before returning to her own reflection. The gown was a brilliant red, trimmed with gold thread, the fabric soft and weightless like a dream. The delicate embroidery along the hem and neckline sparkled faintly in the light—symbols of Rome's glory, of the empire's future that was now her responsibility, and her burden.

"Aurelia?" The handmaid's voice was gentle, tentative, as if unsure whether to interrupt her mistress's thoughts.

Aurelia turned, giving her a tight, thin-lipped smile. "Yes, Flavia?"

"The gown is ready to don, Empress. Shall I help you?" The woman’s gaze was respectful, but there was something else there too—a flicker of sympathy that Aurelia couldn’t bear to acknowledge.

Aurelia swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want sympathy. She didn’t want pity. She wanted to scream, to break something, to tear off this crown of thorns that Rome had placed on her head. But she did none of that. She simply nodded.

"Yes," she said softly, turning her back to the mirror so Antonia could help her slip out of the robe and into the wedding gown.

The cold air of the room pricked at her skin as she stood there, exposed, while her handmaiden adjusted the dress. The fabric felt like it was suffocating her, the layers of fine silk pressing against her ribs, wrapping around her like a prison. Every movement she made seemed to tighten the knot in her chest, that feeling of being trapped.

“Do you want to wear your crown?” Antonia asked quietly as she fastened the gown with a delicate clasp at the back.

Aurelia’s eyes closed for a moment, the thought of the crown heavy in her mind. It was an ancient piece, crafted with intricate gold filigree and precious stones, a symbol of imperial power. It had once been worn by the great empresses of Rome, and now it would sit atop her head—whether she liked it or not.

But no. Not today.

“Not yet,” Aurelia replied with a sigh, her voice flat. She didn’t need the crown to feel the weight of this marriage. The crown would only serve as a reminder of the chains that now bound her to Lucius.

The handmaiden gave a small nod and moved to prepare the rest of the ensemble. Aurelia looked back at her reflection, her eyes scanning her face, her chestnut brown hair, now expertly arranged in a complicated updo, twisted with strands of gold. The gold accents in her gown glinted, catching the light like cruel promises.

Her heart thudded in her chest. It was not fear that made her body tense, nor anxiety over the marriage itself. It was the overwhelming weight of her own complicity. She was walking into this union with her eyes wide open. She knew what this would mean for her. For her future. For her identity.

"I should be happy," she murmured to herself. "I should be proud."

But she wasn’t.

She wasn’t anything but resigned.

She had spent her life surrounded by men who used their power for their own gain—first Geta, then Father, and now Lucius. Each had taken something from her. Her love. Her trust. Her belief in what a marriage could be. Now, this marriage would be no different. Lucius was no Geta, certainly, but the coldness that resided between them was something that neither of them could escape. He may have been the son of Lucilla, the true heir to the throne, but she knew him only as a gladiator—someone who had fought his way to power, someone who had been shaped by violence and bloodshed.

The door creaked again, and another handmaiden entered, this one carrying the veil that would cover her face. Aurelia stood still as it was gently placed over her head. She let the fabric fall into place, the lace soft against her skin. It was beautiful, but suffocating.

“You look stunning, Empress,” Antonia whispered, as if her words would somehow erase the tension in the room.

Aurelia didn’t respond immediately. She couldn’t bring herself to speak, to pretend for even a moment that this day was anything other than the beginning of something that she had not chosen.

The heavy silence settled between them, the air thick with the weight of her decision. The marriage would proceed. The ceremony would go on. She would stand by Lucius’s side. She would wear the crown, and she would endure.

In a fleeting moment, as the last of the attendants left the room to give her space, Aurelia allowed herself one last thought: Perhaps, somewhere in the depths of her heart, she still longed for a different life. A life where she was not bound by duty, not made to be the symbol of an empire, not forced into a marriage for the sake of political alliances.

But as the clock ticked, the reality of her situation gripped her again, cold and unyielding.

This was not her choice. Not really.

She was an empress and empresses did not have the luxury of choice.

Aurelia stepped toward the door, the faint sound of the wedding procession echoing in the halls of the palace. She walked down the corridors, her heels clicking softly against the marble floors, her breath steady. Her hands, now trembling once more, gripped the edges of her gown. She could feel her heart race. But she kept her face neutral, resolute.

The doors to the grand hall opened, and before her, in the vastness of the room, stood Lucius—waiting for her. The air buzzed with anticipation.

And she, Aurelia, stood at the threshold, ready to step into her new life.

The price of power. The price of survival.

And, most of all, the price of being an empress.

The grand hall of the imperial palace was bathed in golden light, its columns adorned with rich purple tapestries and intricate carvings that had witnessed countless ceremonies of wealth and power. But today, this sacred space seemed to pulse with an air of something darker—something forged by the sword, blood, and vengeance.

Aurelia Carina Cassia stood near the altar, her breath shallow and her body stiff with anger, her eyes dark and haunted as she gazed out over the sea of guests. Senators, generals, and various figures of power from across the Empire filled the space, their murmurs low and expectant. It was meant to be a celebration of Rome’s new era, but for her, it felt like a bitter mockery.

Her heart still ached for Geta, her late husband. Cruel though he had been, she had found a way to love him—a love that had never been returned but existed all the same. Now, the man who had taken his place as Emperor, Lucius Verus, stood in front of her.

Lucius Verus. He was unlike anything she had imagined. A gladiator. A slave. And yet, he bore the blood of the true Imperial line. He was her captor and her future husband, thrust into this role by the whims of power. He had murdered Macrinus, the usurper who had orchestrated the deaths of her first husband and his brother Caracalla, but in his victory, there was no joy—only a quiet fury that matched her own.

He stood tall and commanding, his piercing blue eyes scanning her face with an intensity that unsettled her. He was dressed in the traditional garb of an emperor, but his bearing—the broad shoulders, the ruggedness, the battle-worn look—betrayed his humble origins. He had spent most of his time in Rome now in the blood-soaked sands, fighting for survival, earning his freedom through the same violence that had stolen his childhood.

He was, in a sense, a mirror to her own loss. She, too, had been forced to survive in a world she could never control.

And now they were to be joined in marriage, a union that was born not of love, but of survival.

The officiant, a high-ranking priestess, gestured for them to stand at the center of the room, her voice smooth and practiced as she spoke the traditional words of union. Her gaze flickered between the two, noting the tension in their posture, the unwillingness that clung to them like a dark cloud.

Aurelia’s hands trembled as she reached out to take the hand of her new husband. His palm was rough and calloused, the grip firm but not comforting. She could feel the history of his life in his touch—years of hardship, bloodshed, and struggle. His thumb brushed against the back of her hand in a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, but it was enough to remind her that despite all that had happened, they were bound by something now. A shared future of power, of control, and of the very Empire that had destroyed their lives.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she nodded, the ceremony continuing in its formalities, yet her mind was far from the words being spoken. She thought of the fateful choice she had been given: marry Lucius Verus or face execution. It was a choice she had made out of necessity, but every fiber of her being screamed in defiance. She had loved Geta, and in that love, she had found a strange semblance of purpose, even if it had been a hollow one. Now, that love had been torn from her, and she was left with a man she neither knew nor cared to know.

Lucius, for his part, said nothing. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of something that mirrored her own anger. Perhaps it was the knowledge that neither of them had been given the luxury of choice, that their fates had been decided by forces greater than themselves.

The priestess continued with the vows, each word falling like the sound of a hammer on stone. As Lucius Verus spoke his vows, his voice was steady, though there was a quiet intensity beneath it, as if he were speaking not just to Aurelia but to the Empire itself, declaring his authority, his claim to this throne. He had killed Macrinus for the very right to stand where he was now. And she was his symbol of legitimacy, the last link to the imperial bloodline of the old regime.

Her turn came, and for a moment, she hesitated. The weight of what this marriage meant pressed down on her, the reality of her new life settling in. There was no love to offer him. No affection. Just the remnants of a broken loyalty to a man who had never truly loved her.

“I vow,” she said, her voice cold, “to stand by your side, as is my duty. I vow to give you the Empire that you now rule, for what it is worth. But know this, Lucius Verus—there will be no affection, no love between us. Only power. Only ambition.”

For a heartbeat, there was silence. The room held its breath.

Lucius’s blue eyes bored into hers, and for a long moment, she thought he might challenge her words, perhaps even reject her defiance. Instead, he simply nodded, as if he had already anticipated it.

“We will rule together,” he said, his voice steady and unwavering. “There is no room for weakness in Rome.”

And with that, the ceremony was complete.

As they turned to face the assembled guests, the crowd erupted into applause, their faces masks of politeness, their hands clapping with enthusiasm. The new emperor and his empress stood together, united in a marriage that neither had chosen but both were bound by. Aurelia could feel the coldness of her own heart as she stood there beside him, the weight of the imperial crown now heavy on her brow.

Her life, her future, was now irrevocably linked to this man, this gladiator-turned-emperor, whose blue eyes hid more secrets than she would ever be able to unravel. But as they walked down the aisle, side by side, she knew one thing for certain: in the world of power, there could be no true love. Only survival. Only Empire. Only Rome. Only duty.

Flashback ~ The Wedding To Geta

The sun was setting over Rome, casting a soft golden glow over the city that stretched out below the Palatine Hill. Aurelia stood before a tall mirror, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted the folds of her wedding dress—a gown of delicate silk and rich embroidery that shimmered in the fading light. The dress, fit for an empress, was crafted from the finest materials, but it felt heavy against her skin. Every stitch, every detail, reminded her of the weight of the day, of the promise she was about to make, and the life she was about to step into.

Her reflection stared back at her, but she barely recognized the woman in the mirror. Gone was the spirited young woman she had been before her marriage was arranged. Gone was the girl who had dreamed of love and adventure. In her place stood a woman bound by duty—her fate sealed by the politics of empire, her future written in the cold, unfeeling hand of power.

Aurelia closed her eyes for a moment, taking in a steadying breath. She would have preferred to wait, to delay this moment, to take time to come to terms with the reality of her marriage. But there was no time. The people expected it. The Senate demanded it. And her father, always the pragmatist, had seen the union as an opportunity for political gain—an alliance that would strengthen the family name.

"Are you ready?" came a voice, breaking her reverie. It was her father, standing in the doorway of her chamber. His expression was unreadable, as it always was, but there was something behind his eyes—a flicker of concern, perhaps, or maybe guilt. He had done what was necessary. But Aurelia knew it had not been his choice either.

She forced a smile, the kind of smile she had perfected long ago when she was a child trying to please her father. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

Her father’s eyes softened for just a moment before he nodded. "You will be Empress. You know what that means, Aurelia. It’s a responsibility to Rome. To the future. Remember all that your mother and I have taught you."

Aurelia nodded, her throat tightening. Her future was already laid out for her, and it was not a future she had chosen. But she had always known that in the Roman world, duty outweighed personal desire. She was a woman of privilege, yes, but she was also a pawn in a game of power and politics.

The doors to the chamber opened, and Aurelia’s attendants entered, guiding her to the grand hall where the wedding would take place. The hall was massive, filled with marble columns and the scent of fresh flowers, the long tables draped in crimson cloths. Guests had already arrived, dressed in their finest to witness the union of the Emperor and the daughter of a noble family. But none of it felt real to Aurelia. It all felt distant, a pageant for the empire’s elite, a performance where she was expected to play her role.

Her heart beat in her chest, faster than it had been moments ago. Not from excitement, but from a deep, gnawing apprehension. This man— Emperor Geta—would be her husband. A man who had already shown her nothing but coldness and indifference. Their marriage, she knew, was not one built on affection or love but on the weight of imperial necessity.

As she entered the hall, she could feel the eyes of the guests on her, their gazes heavy, judging. The high-ranking senators, the nobles of Rome, all gathered to witness the consolidation of power that this marriage represented. But Aurelia’s mind was elsewhere, focused on the figure at the end of the long aisle.

Emperor Geta stood there, his back straight, his expression impassive. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his tunic was rich with gold embroidery, the imperial seal shining brightly on his chest. His eyes, dark and unreadable, met hers briefly as she walked toward him. For a moment, there was a flicker—an almost imperceptible shift in his gaze—but it was gone before Aurelia could understand it.

His presence was like a shadow, looming over her, a reminder of what was to come. He was not cruel—at least, not outwardly—but there was a coldness in him, an emotional distance that made her uneasy. The idea of this man being her husband was foreign, unsettling. And yet, as the ceremony began, she knew there was no turning back.

The high priest stepped forward, his voice solemn as he began the traditional rites. Aurelia’s gaze remained fixed on Geta, but he was unmoved. His lips were set in a firm line, his expression a mask of indifference. He did not seem to care for the ceremony, nor did he seem to care for her.

"Do you, Emperor Geta, take Aurelia Carina Cassia to be your wife, to rule beside you in both marriage and in empire, in joy and in hardship, in life and in death?" the priest asked.

Geta’s voice was low, almost detached. "I do."

Aurelia’s heart skipped a beat. He spoke the words with no passion, no conviction, as though the act was nothing more than a formality to be checked off the list. A formality for the empire.

Then it was her turn.

"Aurelia Carina Cassia," the priest said, turning his gaze to her. "Do you take Emperor Geta, to be your husband, to join with him in marriage, in rule, in life, and in death?"

Her lips parted, but for a long moment, no sound came out. Her mind swirled with conflicting thoughts—fear, doubt, and resignation. She had no choice. There was no turning back. The empire was watching her.

"I do," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

The ceremony continued, the exchange of vows, the binding of rings, the symbolic gestures of unity. But even as the final prayers were spoken and the crowd cheered, Aurelia felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of emptiness. She was a wife, yes, but not in the way she had imagined. She was a wife in name, a wife to a man who would never truly love her.

As the final blessing was given, Geta turned to her, offering her his arm as he led her from the altar. His eyes met hers for a moment, and in the fleeting seconds, Aurelia saw something there—something cold, something distant. But she couldn’t place it. She wasn’t sure if it was pity, disdain, or something else entirely. But it didn’t matter.

They were married now. The empire will have its heirs. The empire had its future.

They walked together, side by side, but it felt as though they were walking in separate worlds, worlds that had collided for the sake of duty, of power, of an empire that demanded much and offered little in return.

As Aurelia took her place at his side, she couldn’t help but wonder what the future would hold for her in this cold, loveless marriage. Would she ever find warmth in his eyes? Or would she forever remain a figure beside him, a silent witness to the empire’s unyielding march?

In the end, she knew one thing for certain: the wedding had been the beginning of a new life, but it had not been the beginning of love.

The grand dining hall of the imperial palace was a breathtaking sight, adorned with lavish tapestries depicting the heroic deeds of the emperor's past. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, honeyed wine, and exotic spices, while gilded chandeliers cast their warm glow over the guests, whose laughter and chatter echoed off the marble walls. The feast had begun in earnest, but for Aurelia, it felt like an insufferable pageantry, an endless display of opulence that was as hollow as her own heart.

The high table, where she and Lucius Verus now sat side by side, was elevated above the sea of guests, an uncomfortable reminder of the power that now bound them together. At one end of the table sat the new Emperor of Rome, his piercing blue eyes cold and distant, as if he were already surveying the entire Empire with an authority that didn’t need to be spoken. At the other end, Aurelia sat stiffly, her hands clenched in her lap beneath the rich folds of her gown, unable to fully appreciate the luxury that surrounded her. She had been made Empress again, yes, but it was a title that seemed to mock her more than anything else. She had no love for Lucius Verus—her husband only in name—yet here she was, forced to play the part, to smile and pretend that this was all as it should be.

Her gown shimmered beneath the flickering candlelight. It was the color of Rome’s old blood—the blood of emperors, of gladiators, and of countless men and women who had fought for survival. She hated the irony of it all.

Lucius, for his part, barely spoke. His jaw was set, his expression unreadable. He lifted his goblet of wine to his lips and took a long drink, his eyes briefly meeting hers, but only for a second. The tension between them was palpable, like an invisible thread pulling them further apart with every passing moment.

The servants moved around the table with practiced efficiency, placing golden platters of roasted boar, venison, and lamb, their skins crackling with crisp fat, alongside bowls of fresh fruits—pomegranates, figs, and clusters of grapes—and loaves of freshly baked bread. An assortment of cheeses and honeyed pastries were brought in, and the scent of wine—sweet, tart, and heady—filled the air. Flutists played softly in the background, and a troupe of dancers from the East began a slow, sensuous dance, their silks flowing as they moved in perfect harmony with the music.

But despite the abundance of food and drink, despite the spectacle unfolding before her, Aurelia could not enjoy a single moment. Her mind swam with bitter thoughts: memories of Geta, the brutal coldness of his reign, his violence—yet, within that cruelty, she had found something to hold on to, something that had made him hers, even if only in the darkest corners of her heart.

She was brought back to the present by a low voice beside her.

"Not hungry?" Lucius Verus’s voice was quieter than before, his words heavy with something unreadable. It was not a question of concern, but one of curiosity, or perhaps challenge.

Aurelia turned toward him, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes were sharp and intent, as though he were studying her, as though she were the next opponent to be defeated in his personal arena.

"I’m not hungry," she replied, her voice cool, and for a moment, their eyes locked, the silence between them thick and heavy.

Lucius’s lips tightened, though it wasn’t in anger. It was more a quiet acknowledgment of the tension between them. He turned his gaze back to the feast and picked up a roasted fig, placing it delicately in his mouth. There was something almost calculated about his movements, as if every action were part of a larger strategy.

Around them, the feast continued with laughter and revelry. A senator cracked a joke, a group of soldiers clinked their goblets together in a celebratory toast, and a young noblewoman tried to engage Lucius in conversation about the new laws he would enact. Yet, despite the outward merriment, there was an underlying current of unease. The guests were not so naïve as to ignore the strange and uneasy marriage that had just been sealed in the hall behind them.

Lucius shifted slightly in his seat, as though feeling the weight of the eyes that turned toward him.

"You don’t have to pretend," he said, breaking the silence again, his voice low and almost resigned. "I know why you’re here. You don’t have to like it."

Aurelia’s lips tightened at his words, but there was no anger in them. It was merely truth, blunt and direct, as always. She looked down at her hands, unwilling to meet his gaze again.

"I don’t pretend," she replied softly, though she knew the truth of her own hypocrisy. She was pretending, of course. Pretending that she didn’t care. Pretending that this was all something she could endure.

"Then why sit through this?" Lucius asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why endure this charade?"

Aurelia raised her eyes to his once more, meeting his gaze squarely. For a moment, she wanted to say because it’s all I have left, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she said only, “Because I have no choice, just as you have no choice.”

For a heartbeat, Lucius said nothing. He stared at her, as though seeing her for the first time—truly seeing her. His gaze was piercing, intense, yet something flickered in those deep blue eyes. Perhaps it was understanding, perhaps it was something more, but Aurelia could not bring herself to interpret it.

A loud cheer broke the silence, and Aurelia turned toward the noise. The guests were raising their cups in a toast, celebrating the new Emperor and Empress, raising their voices in the name of Roman glory. It was an exultant sound, but it grated on her nerves, like the clanging of swords against stone.

"To Lucius Verus, Emperor of Rome!" a voice cried from the crowd.

"And to Aurelia Carina Cassia, Empress of Rome!" another echoed.

The room erupted in applause, and for a moment, the noise drowned out everything else. Aurelia didn’t raise her glass. Instead, she simply sat there, her hands folded in her lap, her thoughts swirling in dark circles.

Lucius raised his goblet, the flickering light from the candles catching in the deep blue of his eyes, but he did not look at her when he spoke.

"To Rome," he said simply, his voice carrying authority that silenced even the loudest of voices.

The crowd echoed his words, and for the briefest of moments, Aurelia felt the weight of the empire—its triumphs, its cruelties, and its endless hunger for power. It was the weight she had inherited, and it was a weight that would forever bind her to Lucius Verus.

For better or for worse, she was now his. And he was hers.

The feast continued around them, but for both of them, it had already ended.

The grand banquet hall was alive with the sounds of music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets, but amid the festivity, there was a tension that seemed to weave itself into the very air. The feast had stretched on for hours, but now the guests were beginning to murmur in anticipation as the next part of the evening approached. The moment that every wedding in Rome demanded—the first dance.

Aurelia Carina Cassia stood frozen at the edge of the hall, her gown heavy around her, the rich crimson fabric swishing as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She could feel the weight of every eye in the room, the glances that flicked between her and Lucius Verus, the new Emperor of Rome, her husband by forced choice. He was already standing at the center of the room, his posture perfect, his jaw set in that all-too-familiar way of someone who had long since learned to suppress any sign of weakness.

They were supposed to dance. They were supposed to take the center of the room and spin in graceful circles, the crowd watching and applauding as if this were a storybook wedding. But Aurelia didn’t feel like a princess or a queen. She felt like a prisoner.

Her eyes flicked nervously to the musicians at the far end of the room, their instruments ready, their gazes expectant. They were waiting for her to take the first step, to move toward Lucius and begin the ritual. Her chest tightened with the weight of it. She couldn’t do this. Not with him. Not when every inch of her body wanted to scream in defiance.

Lucius turned toward her, his gaze cool but unreadable, like a glacier that had been worn smooth by the passage of time. He was not nervous. Of course, he wasn’t. A gladiator, a warrior forged in blood, who had danced with death more times than he could count. What was a simple waltz to a man who had survived arenas and emperors’ plots?

"You’re stalling," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the growing hum of the room.

Aurelia didn’t respond immediately. She couldn’t. She simply stared at him, that same gnawing bitterness rising within her. She was trapped, caught in the unrelenting gears of this machine—this Empire, this marriage. And there was nothing she could do to escape it.

His eyes softened just the slightest bit, but it wasn’t with warmth. It was a recognition of the struggle she was facing, though he would never voice it aloud. Lucius knew what it was to be trapped in chains, though his were made of blood and iron, not silk and ceremony.

When he spoke again, his words were measured, as though he were giving her a final choice.

"You don’t have to like it. But we have to do this, for Rome." His words weren’t a command; they were simply a fact, one that neither of them could escape.

Aurelia took a sharp breath and glanced back at the crowd. She could feel their eyes on her, the heat of their stares burning into her skin. They were waiting for their Empress to play her part, to show the world that Rome was strong, unified under the rule of its new Emperor. She had no choice. She could feel the weight of it in the pit of her stomach.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back, trying to summon whatever dignity she had left, and began to walk toward Lucius. Each step felt like an eternity. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor, the sound strangely amplified in the stillness that had fallen over the room. Lucius didn’t move, didn’t step forward to meet her. He simply waited, his posture as commanding as ever.

When she reached him, there was a brief, uncomfortable pause. He regarded her with those piercing blue eyes, his expression unreadable. Aurelia wanted to say something—anything—to break the silence. To tell him that she would never be the obedient bride he expected her to be. But instead, she lifted her chin, her jaw set in defiance, and placed her hand on his shoulder, offering him the coldest, most formal smile she could muster.

Lucius’s hand slid around her waist, the touch firm but not intimate. It was a touch that spoke of duty, not desire. He began to guide her into the first slow steps of the dance, his movements practiced and smooth, as though he had done this a thousand times before. Aurelia resisted the instinct to pull away, to lash out, but it was harder than she anticipated.

The music swirled around them, the sounds of the flutes and strings filling the room with a kind of ethereal, haunting beauty. The guests began to murmur, some of them leaning in to catch a glimpse of their new rulers, while others smiled and whispered praises. Aurelia could feel their eyes, their judgments, and it made her skin crawl. This was their moment, a moment they had all been waiting for.

Lucius’s grip tightened just slightly around her waist as they moved in time with the music. The movement was mechanical, almost rehearsed. She could feel the tension between them—an invisible barrier neither of them had the will or the desire to cross. Neither of them spoke. The only sound between them was the soft rustle of her gown as they moved in an intricate, slow circle.

Aurelia’s breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t the dance itself that bothered her—it was the feeling of being so close to him, so exposed. His scent, sharp and masculine, filled her senses, and she had to fight not to recoil. The proximity, the enforced intimacy, made her stomach churn.

Lucius seemed to sense her discomfort, but he didn’t falter. Instead, he gave a small, barely perceptible nod, as though acknowledging the weight of the situation. Aurelia couldn’t tell if it was sympathy, amusement, or something else entirely.

The music shifted, becoming faster, more energetic, but still they danced—two figures moving through the motions, a king and queen of an empire built on blood, sweat, and lies. Their feet moved in perfect time, yet there was a palpable distance between them, a gulf that no amount of waltzing could bridge. It wasn’t the graceful, romantic affair the guests had expected. It was a dance of survival. A dance of power.

Aurelia’s mind raced with thoughts of the life she had lost, the man she had loved, and the empire that had torn it all apart. She fought the urge to pull away from Lucius, but there was no escaping this moment. They were bound by more than the silk of her gown or the glittering jewels in her hair. They were bound by the expectations of Rome, by the empire that had demanded this union, this performance.

And so they danced. Neither of them truly present, both lost in the performance. And the crowd watched, applauded, and whispered their approval, as the two of them continued the endless charade that had begun with a marriage forged in blood.

When the dance finally ended, and the last notes of the music drifted into silence, Aurelia was left breathless. Her chest rose and fell with the exertion of holding herself together, and she quickly stepped back, her hand falling from his shoulder. The applause was polite, distant, but it was nothing compared to the silence between them now.

Lucius’s eyes met hers for a brief moment, his expression unreadable. His lips parted as though he might say something, but then he simply nodded.

"Thank you," he said, his voice quiet, though the words seemed hollow to her ears.

Aurelia didn’t answer. She simply gave him a stiff nod in return, the weight of the crown upon her head heavier than ever before.

Then, she turned and walked away, the crowd parting for her like water parting for a stone, their whispers now louder, more insistent but she didn’t care. All that mattered now was the emptiness she felt inside and the weight of the empire that bound her to a man she would never love.

#fanfiction #gladiator ii #gladiator ii fanfiction #emperor geta x oc #emperor geta #x reader #lucius verus x reader #lucius verus x oc #hanno/lucius virus #lucius verus #gladiator 2 #gladiator movie

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thepixelelf · 21 hours ago

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frat president seungcheol x reader x one night romance chan warnings: slight and I mean slight suggestiveness. coarse language, alcohol, possessive (derogatory) cheol; he's toxic and doesn't know it. implications of sex and sexual acts. idk how frats work. wc: 1.8k

love triangle au requests (this one is also for @hey-blondie <3)

read part 1 first

[what's holding you back? 2] Every time his brothers decide to throw another house party, Seungcheol considers quitting altogether. He's always the one who ends up having to clean the house (with the help of an ever-nagging neatfreak Mingyu by his side, at least), always the one who has to arrange the keg delivery (with Soonyoung and his connections getting them life-saving discounts, thankfully), and always the one whose room gets miraculously broken into by some horny party-goers.

(Joshua is still scrubbing every tile in the bathrooms bi-weekly for that last incident.)

((Why he couldn't use his own damn room is still a mystery to Seungcheol.))

Despite all that, every time the boys arrange a new headache -- party, whatever -- and Seungcheol thinks about sitting this one out, they always manage to do the one thing that makes these stupid shindigs irresistible to Seungcheol.

They invite you.

And even though your course load can only be described as mountainous, your part-time job starts early tomorrow morning, and you far prefer getting at least half of a good night's sleep...

You're here. You're here while music blasts and people dance like the rent's due and something breaks every two and a half minutes, laughing at something Jeonghan said. Just within and out of reach.

You lean into the cushion behind you, your shoulders brushing his arm where it rests on the back of the couch. Seungcheol lets the warmth from your back seep through his skin like honey -- because why wouldn't he? You're comfortable where you are, and it's his job to be that "where".

"No, I'm serious!" you defend yourself against Jeonghan's teasing. A likely thing for him to be doing. "He's a total scaredy cat. That's why he always makes you guys run the yearly haunted house."

Soonyoung waves his hand dismissively. "No way. His family celebrates Halloween every year-- that's why he never runs it with us."

"As if!" With a sly smirk, you bump your shoulder into Seungcheol's side. "He hides out at my place every year, and we don't even watch scary movies, either."

Seungcheol rubs the spot you bumped even though it doesn't hurt at all. "We watch scary movies," he argues.

"Halloweentown doesn't count, Seungcheol."

"Now you're just trying to embarrass me--"

Someone calls out your name, and you turn your head, eyes widening,

"Oh shit," you breathe out.

Some guy strides up to the couch with the confidence and determination of a soldier, and every muscle in Seungcheol's body tenses.

You? After the initial surprise, your eyes brighten in that special way Seungcheol likes when you're looking at him.

And can't stand when it's anyone else.

Lifting yourself off the cushions and subsequently away from Seungcheol's arm, you approach the guy before he makes it all the way over to the couch. You touch a hand to his arm, lightly, familiar, a smile on your lips as you chuckle and say, "How the hell did you find me?"

Seungcheol's jaw clenches. He turns to Jeonghan. "Who is that?"

For once, Jeonghan was minding his own business, and he turns away from his conversation to see whom Seungcheol nodded at. "Ah," he says, all-knowing when it comes to who's who. "That's one of Seungkwan's friends. Chan. Lee Chan."

Seungcheol scrunches his nose. Chan, he mocks in his mind as he watches you lead the guy off somewhere. Lee Chan sure isn't holding back in the up-and-down glances. It's like he can't even believe you're there in front of him.

The thing is, you shouldn't be. Seungcheol grinds his teeth. The couch is where you should be, where you're comfortable and you're honey and you're next to him.

He stands.

Even though he knows the answer now, Seungcheol settles next to you, slings his arm over your shoulder, and interrupts whatever the loser was saying with, "Hey, Cherry. Who's your friend?" He lifts his chin a bit, peering down his nose at him with the closest he can get to a polite smile.

There. Lee Chan should get the message with that.

But instead of scurrying off with his tail between his legs like so many of your pursuers had before him, Chan barely acknowledges Seungcheol and just blinks at you. "Cherry?" he asks.

"Oh." You fluster a bit at the nickname, and Seungcheol grows hotter knowing Chan gets to see another one of his favourite expressions on you. "Um, the first of this guy's frat parties I went to, I drank way too much cherry vodka and did some...things. I can't even smell anything cherry-flavoured now without getting queasy." Using one arm to bashfully rub the back of your neck, you chuckle, the movement causing Seungcheol's arm to slip off your shoulders.

He looks for your eyes, which don't meet his. You didn't do that on purpose.

Did you?

"Anyway." You clear your throat and use one hand to gesture at your admirer. "This is Chan. Chan, this is Seungcheol. He's my, um..."

You look at him then, and the lack of answer hits him somewhere within his rib cage. He crosses his arms and turns to Chan. "How do you two know each other?"

He isn't used to having to ask questions like this, his reputation usually enough to deter any unwanted interactions. If this Chan guy is still standing here, though, it must mean he really, really wants to talk to you.

Chan opens his mouth, but you're faster. "Remember the destination wedding my mom's friends went to?"

Seungcheol nods. "The one where they brought you so you could watch their children?"

"Yeah." You glance at Chan, and it's almost like you're telling him something Seungcheol can't hear. "We met there."

Seungcheol's right hand grips harder onto his own arm. "I see."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," Chan says, ignoring Seungcheol once again. He sends you what must be a charming smile. "Especially not here."

"Funny." But you don't laugh. "I didn't think I'd see you here either."

Alright. Enough.

Seungcheol makes a show of grabbing your plastic cup and looking inside. "Let's go get you something to drink," he says, noting your confusion but having none of it. "Nothing cherry, I promise."

Because Seungcheol is the one who knows you. Knows your likes and dislikes, your favourite colours, how you prefer your eggs, the smell of your shampoo...

The face you make when he touches your bare skin. The way desire flickers in your eyes like the hot coals of a campfire.

You shake your head, pulling your cup back and holding it close to your chest. "I'm okay. Thank you."

Seungcheol's brow furrows. "I really think we should go to the kitchen."

"I'm fine, Cheol."

Lifting his hand, he places it on your forearm. "Cherry--"

At the same time as you step away from his touch, Chan steps between you and Seungcheol. "How about you go get yourself a drink?" he says, chest almost imperceptibly puffed out. "I wanted to ask Cherry something in private, anyway."

The nickname Seungcheol gave you coming off of this little shit's tongue makes him seethe. "Ask them what, exactly?" he says through his teeth.

Chan doesn't falter. "I'm sure you don't want to know."

"I'm sure I do," Seungcheol grits out.

"Guys..." you try to cut in quietly, but both boys are too caught up in each other to notice.

Scoffing in amusement, Chan shakes his head before meeting Seungcheol's glare. "Then if you need to know: I wanted to ask if they enjoyed it."

Seungcheol's jaw clenches. "'Enjoyed it'?" he echoes.

"Hey," you try again, somewhere beyond the red fog closing in on him.

"Yes," Chan answers confidently, crossing his own arms now. "If the sounds they made for me are anything to go by, I bet they really enjoyed it -- enough for a repeat performance."

Surging forward, Seungcheol clutches the collar of Chan's shirt in his fist. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Chan smirks, taking delight in setting him off. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Seungcheol growls, pulling his other arm back to give this guy exactly the beating he deserves, but he's half a second too late.

You shove your foot into his stomach, and he stumbles back, fingers loosening from Chan's shirt. You push Chan back by the shoulder for good measure, and when you turn back again, the anger on your face turns Seungcheol's chest inside out.

This fire in your eyes is different than he's ever seen before. Your anger is no stranger to him, from the frustrations of life and all the shit you've had to go through, but you haven't been this mad at him since...

Fuck.

Since he didn't kiss you that night.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Seungcheol?" Your shoulders rise and fall with the anger coursing through you. It's like a wall has finally fallen, the way you look at him. "You're not some rom-com bad boy. Get a hold of yourself."

Seungcheol takes a breath, holding his stomach. "Cherry..."

"What?!" You throw your hands in the air and let them fall. The hints of the brawl that almost broke out had caught the attention of some people around already, but your exasperated voice turns even more heads. "What, Seungcheol? You decided you don't want to fuck me, and after that, you decided no one else can either?"

"I... That's not..."

You huff. "I don't care. I actually just don't care anymore. You know why I didn't tell you about this? Do you know why I never talk to you about this kind of shit?"

He doesn't want to know. But he has a feeling he needs to. "Cherry..."

"Because I knew you'd react like this," you tell him, eyes cold. "Why is it that just because you won't have me, I'm not allowed to have anyone?"

When Seungcheol has no response, Chan returns himself to the picture, standing beside you and putting his hand at the small of your back.

You spin. "And you." An accusatory finger gets thrust in Chan's face, settling under his widened eyes. "If you think you're getting a" --you spit the words-- "'repeat performance' after airing out my shit like that for some dumbfuck pissing contest, you're obviously not the same Chan I met before."

Mouth opening and closing like a fish on the chopping block, Chan sputters for a few seconds before you seemingly decide you don't care about what he would have to say.

You storm off, straight to Soonyoung, whom you grab by the arm and ask to take you home. He spares one glance in Seungcheol's direction, then nods at you with concern on his face.

He knows something Seungcheol doesn't, and it makes Seungcheol want to throw up.

With you gone, the party resumes its usual chaos and volume, although Seungcheol can feel the stares from every direction. Chan disappears somewhere. He doesn't care.

Somehow, Seungcheol finds himself back on the couch. It's a lot less comfortable without you next to him.

Jeonghan sits down with a sigh. "You fucked up, didn't you?"

Sunken into the cushions, Seungcheol shuts his eyes. "I've been fucking up."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Seungcheol brings his hands up to his face, and he digs his palms into his eye sockets. "I don't know. Fuck. I don't know."

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merlincmgirl · 2 days ago

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Oral - 212th x FReader - NSFW

Summary: Looking after your men in the 212th is a top priority, and after the stress of everything becomes too much, they offer to help you unwind.

Characters: Cody, Waxer, Boil, Wooley, Helix, Crys

Pairing: 212th x F!Reader

Word Count: 12,308

Warnings: , oral (female & male receiving), face riding, rimming, cock-warming, group sex, aftercare, angst, fluff, smut,

Author's Note: Happy Holidays! It's a Christmas miracle! I will have finally finished the Kinktober Challenge I set myself tomorrow. It's been a difficult few months, but I'm so proud of myself for doing this.

"I don't kriffing believe this! Get out of my medbay trooper if you know what's good for you!" You snarled, pointing to the door as you pinched the bridge of your nose. Somehow today it seemed like the shinies were taking it as their personal mission to piss you off. It was the 5th shiny today that had come in with something so minor it could have been treated by themselves. It just added to the stress you had been under lately.

"Technically it's my medbay" a rough tone grumbled from behind you.

You spun around, sending Helix a contrite look. "Technically they're your brothers but they seem to enjoy annoying me more!" You snapped back at him.

Helix raised an eyebrow, not used to you snapping at him or the short temper that had gotten spectacularly shorter as the week had progressed.

"Alright civvie, want to tell me what's wrong?" He offered, coming over to help you clean away the supplies you had used to treat a trooper's burn from a spark down in engineering.

"I'm fine. Just your brothers seem to be coming in today with the most ridiculous injuries that a womp rat could treat. You know, one shiny came in with a bruise on his arm. A bruise! That can be treated with the bacta you all carry in your belts!" You ranted, bungling up the scratchy paper that lined the examination bed.

Helix didn't say anything, agreeing that today seemed to be full of ridiculous vods coming in with superficial injuries. It was their 9th day in hyperspace travelling to the next battle, they were becoming restless and bored, having little to entertain them during the long hours in hyperspace. He could understand the frustration you had but not the intensity of your reaction. You were always the kindest of all his medics, the one that troopers rushed to instead of him because at least you'd soften the blow with a comforting word rather than the insults and hypos that he himself liked to use.

"They've just got a bit of cabin fever. It'll change once we reach the next planet" Helix remarked, careful to appear like he was clearing things away and not that he was side eyeing you from where he was standing.

Huffing, you rolled your eyes – Helix was genuinely concerned you'd burst a blood vessel at that intensity – and let out a short laugh. "Then what? It's just the same thing over and over. You boys get thrown into battle, I have to patch you up, see my friends die when I could save them and then just pretend nothing has happened and start again. And deal with your idiotic brothers when they get hurt from doing something stupid!"

"If it wasn't for this war, we wouldn't have been created, civvie" Helix stated, frown settling on his face. The clones had mixed emotions about the war, without it, they wouldn't have been created. But if they hadn't, then there would be no one to stop the Seppies and protect people from their rule.

"I know, doesn't mean I have to like it" you sighed, rubbing at your tired, strained eyes and slumping against the bed.

"When was the last time you slept?" Helix asked, voice already taking on an accusing edge that set your hackles up.

"I don't know, I've been busy" you huffed, forcing yourself back onto your feet to prepare the tray for the next patient that walked in.

The CMO sent you a stunningly unimpressed look, making sure you caught how he looked around the practically empty med bay. If you weren't so annoyed, you'd be impressed. "Yes, I can see that" he drawled, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Anyway, how is it your business?" You grumbled, brow furrowing as your hands shook. From how exhausted you were or the stress, you didn't know, but you clenched them tightly to keep them steady.

"The welfare of the men and the whole crew of the Negotiator is my business. Including you" he reminded, crossing his arms and giving up pretending to help now. Something was obviously going on with you. "Have you spoken to Cody about this?" He asked softly, voice lowering, even though there was nobody around to listen in.

You scoffed bitterly, sending Helix a withering look. "You mean when I pass him in the halls, or the two minutes he has to call me. Yeah, of course it comes up" you snapped, anger glaring through you all of a sudden. You didn't know why you were so mad. Either you were mad at Cody for barely saying a few words to you in the last few days or you were mad at yourself for being angry at Cody because he was just busy doing his job.

Shocked at your reaction, Helix placed a steadying hand on your shoulder and you slumped, feeling the fight leave you. "Why don't you go and grab some food from mess and get some sleep? I can hold everything down here until you come back" he suggested, already cutting off your protests before they could start.

"Fine, but I'm not happy about this. I can work just as well as anybody else on this ship!" you said sharply, grabbing your data pad off the desk. Maybe you could file some paperwork in your quarters for a bit before hopefully falling asleep.

"I know that civvie! Now get out of my medbay until you've had at least 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep!" Helix ordered, crossing his arms and sending you on your way.

Helix frowned, watching your form disappear through the medbay doors, wondering how he could help you. It was no surprise that Cody’s riddur was feeling the stress of spending so little time with her Commander. Their deployment had seen the 212th face battle, after battle after battle. And that meant many more troopers coming into the medbay with a variety of injuries. Some you could save, others you couldn’t. He was no stranger to exhaustion and stress after seeing so many of his vode die, no matter how much those damned long necks tried to erase it out of them.

Resolving to talk to Cody about this, he knew something had to be done. He cared about you, and he dared to count you as a friend. So he would try and help you deal with the stress and anger that was bubbling up inside of you.

Here he was, standing outside the door of his commanding officer hoping to talk to him about his girl. What he did for his brothers!

"Commander" Helix greeted, stepping into the Marshal Commander's office and saluting him.

"Helix, everything alright? Obi-wan hasn't escaped again, has he?" Cody teased, sending him a small exhausted grin as he went through a stack of data pads.

"Not that I'm aware of. But thankfully, he can't get into too much trouble while in hyperspace" Helix rolled his eyes, glad that he wasn't dealing with the Jedi nonsense at the moment. "However we have a different problem" he informed his Commander, shoulders stiffening.

Cody frowned, wondering what had caused his brother to become so tense. "Take a seat" he nodded, glancing at the chair in front of his desk. He noticed that he kept his posture straight, his shoulders tense and a worried frown was painted over his face. "What's the problem?" Cody asked, ready to put out this fire as well as the 20 others on his desk. He really needed to get back to the 18th Battalion to discuss their potential new attack formation.

"It's about your girl and my fellow medic" Helix stated, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Cody's mind instantly came to a stand still. What was wrong? Was you hurt? Had something happened to you? Had one of his brothers upset you? The endless list of what could have gone wrong poured through his head.

"What's wrong with her?" Cody demanded, feeling his insides churn in worry.

"She's not doing too good. She's snapping at everyone, she made a shiny cry this morning and has been a menace in my medbay" Helix reported, crossing his arms and sending Cody a stern look.

"That doesn't sound like her at all. She's normally the one everyone goes to if they had a choice between you and her" Cody murmured, making Helix roll his eyes. "I've noticed she's become a lot quieter and snappy with me. But I never thought she'd act like this around others" Cody admitted, shaking his head.

"She's not sleeping well, hasn't been eating well either. The last few campaigns have been rough, we've lost a lot of men" Helix stated, although he didn't need to remind Cody of that. The Commander spent most of his days reading casualty reports for the 212th and other battalions. He knew exactly how many men were lost in battle.

Cody sighed heavily, leaning back into his padded office chair. Obi-Wan had insisted that they replaced his old one. Citing how long they both had to do paperwork, they should at least have somewhere comfortable to sit. He was glad of it now as he thought about what to do in this situation.

"Thinks we'll replace her because she's not been bred to deal with all this" Helix added.

Cody scoffed, bitterness curling in his stomach as he thought back to Kamino. "We still get affected by it. Of course we wouldn't replace her for caring" he muttered, shaking his head. "What am I going to do with my cyare?" He sighed heavily, running a hand through his tight curls.

"Try talking to her di'kut!" Helix grumbled, making Cody's head snap up. "I've sent her away to bed and to get something to eat, but it's you that she's missing! Almost snapped my head off when I asked about you. So you need to talk to her so we can find a way to help her relax and de-stress before our upcoming campaign, otherwise I'm signing her off for burnout" Helix ordered, looking at his brother sternly and leaving no room for arguments.

That was one of the first things that Cody had learned. Never mess with a medic. Their oath only covered so far and they were more than prepared to stun you if it meant you would let them do their jobs.

There was a way to help you de-stress and it was something you had both discussed before. It may help you feel better about everything, but he did want to talk to you first. Something was obviously on your mind, and he hadn't been around to help you and support you through it. This campaign had took a lot of his time and efforts up, but that was no excuse. He would have to do better when reaching out to you and communicating during these hectic times.

Resolved to sort this out in one way or another, he nodded, plan of action already forming. He would set everything up and then you and he could have a talk before you either agreed to go ahead with his plan or wished to just quietly sort everything out with him. Either way, he was prepared.

Cody nodded once more about his decision, he had become more and more concerned about you as well. If even his officers were bringing it to his attention then something had to be done. “Agreed. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. Bring all available Ghost officers to room 1104 at 2100 hours” Cody instructed, typing away on his vambrace.

“Yes Commander” Helix saluted him and went to follow Cody’s instructions. Secure in the knowledge that Cody had got this handled.

When Cody managed to wrangle everything for the day, he found you in your rooms. As the door closed behind him, you barely looked away from the pot you were stirring in your small kitchenette.

“Hey sweetheart, what you doing?” he greeted, beginning to strip off his armour and place it next to the door.

“Hmm, just cooking dinner. Hungry?” you murmured, eyes unseeing of your dinner. You couldn’t help but think of all the work that was no doubt starting to pile onto your desk. There was the annual check-ups due soon for every trooper aboard the Negotiator, and it took a bit of time to prepare and order the supplies needed to vaccinate everyone.

“Smells delicious” he remarked, before coming over behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your back. He sighed in relief, soaking in your scent and relaxing presence. “And I’m always hungry, cyare. Ravenous” he tried to joke, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Good” you replied, side stepping out of his arms and busying yourself with preparing the side dish.

Cody frowned, watching as your shoulders seemed to rise, tension spread across them and the short jerky movements you were doing. Helix had been right. You were a lot more stressed than he realised. He was already thinking up ways on how to approach you when he heard your sniffle and the way you seemed to sink further into yourself.

Unable to take watching you cry and be upset, Cody instantly rushed back over to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. He was shocked when you pushed him away, flinching under his hand and stepping back. You had never done that to him before.

“Love, what’s wrong?” Cody asked, wanting to bring you into his arms to hold you and comfort you. But he knew it wouldn’t work, it would be detrimental to him finding out what was going on with you and talking about it.

“Nothing, I’m fine” you huffed, wiping away the tears and refusing to look at him. You didn’t want to see if he was angry with you, or upset. You just wanted to cry and be left alone.

“Talk to me, everyone can see how stressed you are. I’m here for you, I want to be here for you if you’d let me” Cody said softly, his voice reassuring and calm.

Admittedly it did help soothe your nerves for a moment, knowing he wasn’t angry but concerned about your behaviour. But the rush of sudden anger had words flying out of your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, as you spun around and glared at him.

“Here for me? When? When you remember that I exist? Or when you want someone to fuck?” you snapped at him, tears streaming down your face. It did nothing to hide the flash of hurt that crossed over Cody’s face at your words.

“Mesh’la, that’s not fair. It has been one thing after another trying to prepare for this battle. It’s not an excuse, but my time has been taken up by those preparations. I promise, you were on my mind during all of this. You never leave my mind, mesh’la” he admitted, taking a step closer to you and reaching out for your hand. He sighed in relief when you didn’t pull away from him. “Before we were lovers, we were friends. I want to know when you’re hurting, I want to know when you’re stressed, I want to know you, sweetheart. Is that so impossible to believe?” he breathed, looking into your teary eyes.

“Yes” you muttered, hand coming up to swipe at your tears. But he was right, you had been friends before and your words wasn’t fair to him. You knew before you started dating him that Cody was an important and busy man. He was second in command of the 3rd System Army, many people depended on him. He provided a lot of advice and strategies to the companies under him. He wasn’t always going to be able to be with you, or even talk to you some days. You just didn’t know why you were taking it this hard.

“Pretty girl, you have always been my light shining in the darkness. You see me as Cody, not as Marshal Commander or a man who shares his face with a million others. You see me, and for a clone, that is special enough. You are special” he admitted, before shaking his head ruefully. “I don’t- I don’t know how to explain just how much I love you. But when I see you hurting – like you are now – that kills me, mesh’la. I want to help, please let me” Cody begged, squeezing your hand.

Gulping back tears and feeling like you had a rock in your throat, you stepped forward into his embrace, sinking into his chest and relaxing against him. “I love you too… I’m sorry for snapping at you. I didn’t really mean it” you apologised, burying your face into his blacks, letting the tears soak through the material.

Cody wrapped his arms around you, one around your waist keeping you against him, and the other combing through your hair. Already he could feel the tension leaking out of your exhausted body. “I know love, I know. You’re hurting at the moment and that makes people lash out. Besides, I’ve heard and felt worse. Remind me to tell you of the time Fox beat me in hand to hand training one of the days” he assured, smiling into your hair and feeling your shuddering breaths ease.

“I’ll hold you to that, Commander” you chuckled weakly before sighing and scrubbing at your tear streaked face. “I just… I don’t know why it’s so hard now. I know that you were designed for war but it just hurts to know that you’ve never had a life outside of war, and pain, and hate. Some of your brothers don’t ever get to experience the world, they’re killed before they can. And I… I can’t tell anyone because then I’ll be reassigned because I can’t take the stress and then I’d have to leave you and I-” you panicked, chest becoming tighter now with every word you said.

“Breathe. You need to breathe” Cody interrupted, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss to help restart your breathing.

“I guess I got lost in my own head and began overthinking” you sighed, taking in deep breaths and holding Cody to your tighter. “I’m scared I’m going to lose you. Be it in battle or something else. I just… I- I just feel so useless, this war takes too much from us and it just got to me” you explained, shrugging helplessly against him. It was the best you could do, words becoming lost and your thoughts muddled as you tried to find a reason for the way you had been behaving this week.

“That’s okay mesh’la, whatever happens, you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere” he assured, rubbing up and down your back. “Besides, you’re not the only one who commiserates our upbringing. The Jedi hate it too, but our lives on Kamino, don’t think it was full of hate. Yes the trainers and the long-necks were terrible to us but… we had each other. We experienced love and affection from our vods, from our batch mates. We may not have experienced the world like you wish us too, but we made do. Just… you can’t take it all on by yourself, love. These decisions and events were outside of your control” he reminded, kissing your temple.

“I’m glad you had your vode” you smiled softly, thinking about the rest of his brothers that you treated, as well as the millions that were spread out across the galaxy. It was nice to think that even if they didn’t a traditional upbringing, they at least had each other.

“Ugh, too many to know what to do with” he grunted, making you giggle. He really did sound like an exasperated older brother. But he wouldn’t change it for the world. He rested his head against yours and closed his eyes. “Thank you for caring about me and my vode. Especially when the galaxy is turning against us” he breathed, soaking in the way your breath fluttered against his face.

“Always Cody, you and your vode… you didn’t have a choice in all this and whatever happens, I’ll take care of you and your vode. I’ll fight the Senate if I have to” you vowed, making him chuckle.

“Oh I don’t doubt that cyare, I know from experience just how ferocious medics are – especially you” he teased, cupping your face and pulling away from you slightly. “But you need to be cared for and taken care of as well. Do you remember what we’ve spoken about before, when we were suggesting new things to try out together? The one about Ghost Company?” he prompted, thumb stroking across your cheek.

You froze, mind recalling that conversation perfectly. Cody and you had been discussing fantasies and kinks, determined to know more about each other and what you both liked. It had been a spur of the moment suggestion that Cody had liked as well. To be shared amongst Ghost Company while Cody took care of you. He would supervise everything while you could sink into the pleasure and not have to think about anything.

“I remember” you nodded, words falling carefully out of your mouth as you glanced up into his dark brown orbs. You wondered where exactly this was going.

“Would you feel up to it if me and the boys helped you relax and take care of you?” Cody inquired, squeezing your hip and letting you think things through. He had seen just how burnt out you had gotten recently, and he wanted to help you find relief in a number of ways. And his brothers felt the same, they’d all noticed how stressed you had gotten and wanted to help make you feel better. But it was and always would be your decision.

Honestly, the thought of Ghost Company sharing you and making you feel good excited you, and you could already feel your heart start to race at the suggestion. The men in that company was all loyal and brave men, you had close friendships with all of the officers. Would it affect the way they treated you? Would it be awkward when you all had to return back to work? Why would they want to help you out? Were they doing it just because their Marshal Commander asked it of them?

“Why would they want to do that with me?” you frowned, shaking your head at the thought. It seemed impossible to think that Ghost Company would want you.

“Mesh’la! You are an extraordinary person” Cody chided, brow furrowing at the way you spoke about yourself. “And my brothers have also noticed a change in you and were worried. I promise, they want to make you feel better, to make you feel good about yourself and help relieve some of that stress” he assured, cupping your cheek and making sure your beautiful eyes met his own. “I promise I’ll be right there if you want me to be. Nothing is going to harm you” he explained with a wry smile before he turned deadly serious. Cody never went back on his word, if he promised something then it would happen.

Kriff! This wasn’t something you could turn down. Or want to turn down for that matter. Taking the bantha by the horns, you made the decision.

“Yeah… yeah I want that. I want them to help me” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you heard the words come out of your mouth. It was a bit surprising but also exciting at the same time. They were all incredibly attractive men. Who wouldn’t want them all to help you feel more relaxed. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” you asked, knowing you would need to check in with Cody. He had to agree to this as well.

Cody’s cheeks reddened and he looked away for a moment before turning back to you with a small, abashed grin. “Yeah, I’m good with this. I can’t wait to see how beautiful you look with my brothers” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chuckling at his eagerness, you wrapped your arms around his waist once more and hugged him tightly, taking in his reassuring scent and warm embrace. “And it hits your sharing kink as well” you teased, pressing a kiss to his pec.

“Ugh, I forgot I told you about that” he groaned, shaking his head as he tightened his hold of you, rocking you in his arms as he nuzzled into you. “But, we do still need to talk about what has you feeling like this, cyare. We need to get to the root of this problem” Cody reminded, feeling you stiffen slightly in his arms. It was obviously a conversation you didn’t want to have with him.

“Do we have to? I was cooking dinner” you grumbled, glancing back at the stove that was still on.

Cody shook his head, giving a tutting noise before turning it off and not allowing you to hide away from this. It was starting to affect your health and the way you were behaving. He couldn’t just ignore that. Both as your partner and as your Commanding Officer.

"Come on, let's lie down for a moment, dinner can wait" he murmured, guiding you over to your bed and pulling you down with him. He arranged you so you were lying on his chest, his hands wrapped around you as he held you close. Your head rested above his heart, the steady thrum enough to calm any of your nerves.

"You know, mesh’la, if you ever need to talk to anyone who's not me, I'm sure the General wouldn't mind listening to you. Or I can ask Helix if he knows anyone that would help" Cody suggested lightly, feeling the way you were beginning to relax into his arms. He knew from experience that it might be easier to talk to someone that you weren’t close to, or someone who had no interest in anything but your own emotions and how they related to the situation.

You pulled a face, shaking your head at the thought of talking to the General, or even Helix! No, it wasn’t something you felt like you could share with them. Not when they had so much authority to send you away. Besides, you were well aware of the benefits of therapy and talking to someone, you’d done it before. "I already tried that... I spoke to my mentor from medical school a few days ago. Asked him how he coped dealing with death everyday. Do you know what he said? Do you know what he said?” you admitted, voice breaking as you thought about your last conversation with your mentor. It had been enough to show you what a despicable person he was.

“What mesh’la? What did he say?” Cody frowned, knowing it couldn’t be anything good as he felt the way your breath hitched in your chest, the way you tensed up and the way your voice broke as you were talking.

“He said once you've cut into one clone you've cut into them all. You don't need to practice on any more” you cried, horror at hearing those words come from your mentor. He had always been someone you respected and listened to. He had been a great source of advice, but the way he viewed clones had you pulling away, disgusted with him.

“He is right about that, cyare” Cody sighed.

It wasn’t the worst thing he had ever heard about the clones, and it was fact that they all shared the same body. It was why organ donation was so easy with clones, there was an endless supply of spare parts if the medics needed them. It was awful to think about, but it was something they had always been made aware of. Even in death you still served the Republic.

“No he's not! You're all individuals! Every single one of you and... every time I lose one of your brothers... that's another individual lost. And it's my fault, I should be able to do more!" You sobbed, clutching onto his blacks as the tears began to roll down your cheeks. The immense guilt you felt that you couldn’t do more to help them was becoming overwhelming.

"Its not your fault sweetheart, it's the Seppies. You do everything you can to save my brothers and you care for them. You see us as people, other people will always see us as mindless meat droids and cannon fodder. But you have to take a step back love, I know it's painful but we lose men, brothers, but we remember them as they go marching on. And that is just as important. So if you remember them in your heart, but continue to fight for your brothers, then that is honouring them in a way they would want" Cody explained, shushing your cries as he kissed the crown if your head. His hands ran through your hair, and up and down your back. This was what you needed, the catharsis of release, to let all these emotions out.

"I-I wish I could save all of you. I wished their stupid war didn't exist and I wish we could just stay like this forever" you muttered, voice breaking as you buried your face further into his neck. You just wanted to hide from the world a little.

"Well, I'm good for one of those wishes, and I'm working on the other one, but the first one, that's impossible cyare. You have to learn to accept it some way or another" Cody smiled, holding you tight to his chest.

"I know, I'm trying it's just... it's just hard" you sighed, hiccuping a little as the tears started to dry up.

"It is. Almost as hard as taking care of yourself. Helix told me he sent you to get food and have a nap. So, how about I finish up dinner and you catch up on sleep? We're meeting the boys at 2100 if you feel up to it" Cody suggested, kissing your forehead once more before sliding you off his front and to the side.

"Okay, just make sure you don't burn it" you smiled, catching his hand as he got up. He shot you a surprised look that quickly turned into adoration as you kissed his knuckles. "Best get as much sleep as I can ready for tonight" you teased, excitement and nervous energy flashing through you.

"Everything is going to be fine, love. I'll have dinner ready for when you wake up. Not burnt either!" he added, squeezing your fingers before heading towards the little kitchenette in your rooms.

After dinner, you showered and got yourself ready to meet the rest of Ghost Company. You had no idea where you were meeting them, so you followed Cody's lead, letting him direct you to where you needed to go.

When he stopped outside of a nondescript, normal looking bunk room, you couldn't help but let out a little gasp. This was it. This was where one of your fantasies were about to become real.

Cody's hand came to grip your elbow, angling you towards him. His face was so sincere and soft that you wanted to pull him into your arms and never let go. "Are you sure about this, cyare? We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I wont be angry or upset, I just want to make sure you're feeling good" he reminded, thumb brushing against your skin.

"I'm sure, I know you'll look after me while the boys will make me feel good" you nodded, smiling at him in reassurance.

Taking a deep breath, Cody opened the door for you, letting you take the first step in before he followed behind you and locked the door.

As you stepped into the room, you were greeted by members of Ghost Company. Those that weren't on duty that is. Crys was leaning against the table, Wooley sitting on it next to him, Boil and Waxer was nearby, pressed close together and sending you heated looks. Helix meanwhile was giving you a once over, obviously checking to see if you'd followed his instructions.

"You're looking a lot better since I last saw you" Helix commented, voice all rough and brash but you could hear the concern underneath it.

"Wow, real smooth talker you are, Helix!" Wooley drawled, shaking his head at the medic.

Unable to help the small giggle that escaped you, you rolled your eyes at Helix, more than used to his behaviour. "Don't worry, I'm feeling a lot better since you set Cody on me" you assured.

Warm hands settled on your waist, and you leaned into your Commander. He nuzzled into your neck, leaving a soft peck there before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Everyone has noticed how tense and stressed you've been recently, cyare. So they were more than happy when they got the call to come help you relax" Cody explained, glancing at his eager brothers.

You felt yourself face flush, you didn't realise that it had been so obvious to everyone that you were struggling. You thought you had hidden it rather well. But being on a ship in such close quarters, no doubt people noticed the small things and the little changes within you.

"Yeah, mesh'la. We just want to help you relax, feel good again" Waxer agreed, a playfully grin on his face. No doubt all the boys were just as excited as you with what was going to happen. But knowing your love just as well as you did, you knew that tonight had some stipulations.

“Okay, are there any rules for tonight?” you asked, turning to Cody as he pulled away to slip off his armour.

"Only a couple, mesh'la, and you can change them if you want to" he assured, unclipping everything until he was just in his blacks. The orange and white plastoid was stacked and laid in a neat pile at the edge of the room. Cody nodded at his brothers to do the same. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, and that meant the armour had to go.

"Let's hear them then" you breathed, as you felt butterflies in your stomach as you glanced up at Ghost company.

“Nobody is going to be using your pussy tonight mesh’la, except me. They’re all going to be using their mouths and fingers on you, and you can be as loud as you want. This room is soundproof and hardly anyone comes in” Cody explained, and the other clones surrounding you didn’t seem too surprised at those rules. They were probably informed about this before they had turned up tonight. “Is that okay with you?” he checked in, rubbing soothingly at your side.

“Yeah, that sounds good to me” you agreed, smiling up at him as he leaned forward to give you a kiss.

"Good. Just let us take care of you, cyare" he murmured, lips brushing against yours softly. His hand crept up to the back of your neck, keeping you pressed against him as he took control of the kiss. He gently licked at the crease of your mouth, and you could do nothing but let him in with a small groan. His hands kneaded your neck while his lips parted yours, pushing his tongue to slide against your own.

Cody always could make you forget everything with just his mouth. Be it through kisses, or using those talented lips and tongue to make you scream, he had an ability to make the whole world around you disappear. So when you felt hands land on your waist, your shoulders, your arms, you startled just for a moment before sinking into their touches.

Cody's large, warm hands cupped your cheeks, pressing small teasing kisses over your lips until you had to push him away for air. Panting, you rested your foreheads together as the hands worked to undress you, sliding and unbuttoning your clothes until you stood naked before them. You would have shivered from the cold air around you, but they all burned hotter than a furnace, the press of their bodies keeping you nice and toasty.

“You’ve been so stressed lately, mesh’la. You don’t even have to do anything, just be a set of holes ready and wet for us, okay?” Boil's grumpy voice murmured from your side, his hot breath caressing your neck before he pressed a kiss there.

"The boys know your safe word and your safe action if you can't speak. Ready?" Cody reminded, brushing his nose against your heated cheek.

You gave him a short hum in confirmation. You wanted this. You didn't need to be asked again.

“On your knees” Cody instructed, pecking your lips once more before guiding you with his hand in your hair down in front of him and his brothers.

“You look so pretty on your knees for us mesh’la” Waxer praised, running gentle fingers over the curve of your jaw once you had settled before them. He let out a quiet cooing noise as you rubbed against the tender gesture.

You looked around you at the impressive men that had caged you in. All of them supporting impressive tents in their blacks. You couldn't help but lick your lips, thinking about tasting them, feeling the weight of them on your tongue. Crys groaned, hand coming to press against his bulge at the sinful look crossed your face.

Calloused fingertips hooked under your chin, pulling you back around to face Cody. "Eyes on me, cyare" he ordered, thumb coming to stroke against your bottom lip before he pulled away. He quickly unfastened the bottom half of his blacks and pushed them down his hips, allowing his hard, swollen length to come out.

Your mouth watered, staring at the hard cock in front of you. He wasn't fully hard like you knew he could be, but he was already leaking some pre-cum from the head and you knew he would be a challenge to take when he was hard as rock. You couldn't wait to feel that in your mouth, to wrap your lips around the head and suck him down.

"Go on, cyare. You know what to do" Cody instructed, gripping his base to keep it steady.

Finally, with his permission, you took his head in your mouth, sucking on it strongly before trying to sink further onto him and gagging slightly.

"Whoa, look how hungry she is for the Commander's cock" Wooley- you were sure it was Wooley—muttered in awe.

However, a hand wrapped itself in your hair and pulled you off him. Cody tutted, shaking his head as you whined up at him. "You know better than that, cyare. Take me properly" he rebuked, before letting go of your hair.

Pouting, you knew he was right. Normally you took your time in taking Cody into your mouth, made it a show and built his pleasure. Not rush it, unable to wait.

Raising your hands to his thighs, you shuffled forward, kitten licking at his slit before ducking to lick a long, heated swipe from his balls all the way up to his tip. Hearing the answering groan, you did it again, making sure to swirl your tongue around his head for a moment. You continued to lick him teasingly, sometimes sucking his tip and lapping up his juices.

"That's a good girl. That's better, cyare" Cody moaned, eyes sliding shut as his hand tangled into your hair. He never pulled or tried to guide you, just keeping the weighted reminder on the back of your head, keeping you connected to him. "I know, you've been rushing, having to get things done quickly. Working so hard, but I don't want that. Want you to take your time, enjoy this cyare" Cody continued, knowing his words would sink deep into your brain.

The grip on his thighs tightened, as you let out a small whine, not wanting to think about what had led up to this. All you wanted to do was focus on Cody, on making him feel good and feeling how good it was to just not have to worry about anything.

"Shh, you're alright, ad'ika. Don't have to think of anything right now" Helix assured, hand trailing along your shoulders.

Closing your eyes, you took Cody deeper into your mouth, struggling slightly as he bumped the back of your throat. Squeezing your thumb, you took calming breaths in through your nose before finally sinking all the way down on him. With watery eyes, you looked up to meet Cody's gaze, knowing he enjoyed it. You hoped he was able to read what you wanted in your eyes as well.

Cody frowned, brow furrowed for a moment before he smiled and nodded. "Alright cyare, I know, I know what you need" he assured before pulling away from your delicious mouth. He allowed you to take a deep breath before he was pushing back in, hand that was resting on your head becoming firmer and pushing you down onto his length with every buck of his hips.

Groaning, you allowed Cody to use your mouth, making sure to drag your tongue against the underside of his cock with every thrust. Already you could feel slick dampen your core, and the urge to touch yourself there grew.

"Kriff! She's so hot" Waxer cursed from above you.

Tears brimming your eyes, you dragged your nails down Cody's thigh, hearing and feeling how you affected him. The loud moan that he let out and the way his hips stuttered in their pace had you feeling very proud of yourself. Wanting to have his cum flood your mouth, you cupped his balls, beginning to gently massage them in your hands.

However, Cody quickly pulled you off him, panting heavily as he tried to steady himself once more.

"Having trouble there, Commander?" Boil smirked at his brother.

"Shut up vod! You would be too if you felt this mouth around you" Cody grumbled, before dragging his thumb over your swollen lips.

Instantly you took it into your mouth, showing him what he was missing.

"Want you to have my brother's first, cyare. Be good for them, let them take care of you" Cody told you, leaning down to brush your lips against his. It only lasted a second before he was stepping away and allowing his brothers to take over.

"Hey ad'ika, need to move you for a second, okay?" Helix informed you, scooping you up under your arms and pulling you to your feet.

Wooley and Boil laid out a thin mattress from the corner of the room and laid a few pillows down on it, trying to make it more comfortable for you.

"How do you want her?" Waxer asked, coming to your left side while Crys came to your right. They took you out of Helix's arms before taking over supporting you between them. Their arms wrapped around your waist and Crys was already pressing kisses along your jaw. Sighing, you couldn't help but tilt your head back, giving him more skin to kiss.

"I want her sitting on my face. You can do whatever you want, but I want to taste her" Helix instructed the others.

His words made you groan, imagining the clone eating you out and feasting on you. He was your boss. How would you ever look him in the face again knowing his had been buried deep in your cunt?

"Come on ad'ika" Helix muttered, voice reassuring and gentle as he saw the look on your face. He laid down on the mattress and reached out a hand for you to take.

Of course it would be fine. Helix was one of your closest friends. He looked after you and cared for you. This was just one way of doing that. So, stepping forward onto the mattress, you took his hand and let him guide you above him.

Looking down at him, you couldn't help but bite your lip, worried about suffocating him as you sat on his face. How would he breathe?

"Are you sure? What if I hurt you?" you worried, squeezing the hand that was in yours.

Helix huffed, shooting Cody a dark look as he stood in the corner. "I'm disappointed in you vod, I would have thought you showed her how impossible that is" he chided the Commander.

Cody rolled his eyes, but sent you a warm smile. "I have, multiple times. That's a concern coming from elsewhere" he grumbled before turning to you. "I promise sweetheart, he wants you to sit on him. He'd prefer to go out that way, bit of a sadist really" he teased, making you giggle.

"Yeah, no kidding! His hypos are excruciating!" Waxer mumbled to Boil, rubbing his neck where he had gotten stabbed by Helix the last time.

"Alright, I trust you" you grinned, excitement and happiness curling in your heart in equal measure. You lowered yourself until you were hovering over him.

"I said sit, ad'ika" Helix ordered, hands landing on your waist and tugging you down.

You gasped as his lips instantly attached to your folds, sucking the slick from them with a pleased moan. Fuck, your thoughts fizzled out as Helix pressed his wide tongue between your lips, gathering as much of you on his tongue as possible. He pressed against your entrance, circling it before pushing in.

"Helix!"

A rumble echoed beneath you and you clutched on tight to Helix's long hair, needing an anchor as he began to eat you out. His large hands stretched over your thighs, keeping you in place as he began to push further into your cunt, tip of his tongue teasing your tightening walls.

Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back, hair brushing against your shoulders as your breathing stuttered and became heavier. Unconsciously you began to rock your hips into Helix's talented mouth, panting as Helix pulled you into him. You could hear every wet, swipe of his tongue. The squelch of your juices being devoured by him and the soft groans he was letting out at the taste of you.

Warm fingers dancing along your jaw caught your attention, and you straightened up and opened your eyes to see Crys standing in front of you, his hard cock bobbing in front of him. You couldn't take your eyes off his length, how it was already leaking pre-cum and seemed to be an angry rouge colour.

"Think you can take me in your mouth, sweetheart?" Crys wondered, fingers continuing to stroke along your jaw and down your neck.

Leaning into the soft gesture, you knew he would accept whatever answer you gave him. Luckily for him you really, really wanted to put your mouth on him. Nodding your head, you rested a hand on his hip, steadying yourself against him while you continued to rut against Helix's mouth.

Licking a stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip, you wondered if they all liked their cocks sucked as Cody did. Slowly you began to tease at his head, trying to learn what the technical specialist liked, circling the tip before taking it into your mouth. Cody liked you going slow on him, building his pleasure and teasing him but it seemed Crys didn't. A hand tangled in your hair, guiding you to take him further into your mouth.

You groaned around him, eyes fluttering shut as you clenched down on the tongue inside of you. Helix pulled away from you, taking your folds into his mouth and suckling lightly on them while you adjusted to Crys' length. Letting yourself sink further down on Crys, you tightened your grip on his hip before he was pulling you off him.

"Good girl, took me so well. I'm going to fuck your mouth, okay? If it gets too much, tap me twice and I'll stop" Crys instructed, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face.

"Kay" you mumbled, voice already sounding strained from the use of Cody and him.

Crys sent you a grin before he guided you back down his hard cock, your soft exhales through your nose tickling the curls at the base.

As Crys found his rhythm, thrusting his cock inside your waiting mouth, Helix continued to work you open, his tongue flicking up to the bundle of nerves. It had you bucking into him, warmth flooding you at the way he was teasing your clit. Every thought vanished from your head, only focusing on how good it felt to have Helix eating you out and Crys fucking your mouth. All you had to do was take what they gave you, they would look after you. They'd make sure you forgot everything except them.

As you moaned around the length in your mouth, Helix enclosed his lips around your clit, sucking it harshly and having your cries muffled by Crys.

"Damn, whatever you just did, do it again. She really liked that!" Crys hissed out, the vibrations around his cock pushing him closer and closer to his finish.

Helix wasted no time, sucking your bundle of nerves harshly while his hands kept you secure to him. He allowed you to rock and buck against his mouth, but he wouldn't let you move far from him.

Your peak was rising, the ministrations of both clones pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans were muffled by Crys, who continued to fuck into you, pace faltering as he neared his own edge.

"Shit! Oh shit sweetheart!" he hissed, throwing his head back as he pushed you all the way down onto his cock, your throat quivering around him as he found his release. He shot his thick load down your throat, and you swallowed it down with no complaint, earning another broken moan from the blonde clone as he pulled away to look you over.

"So beautiful, sweetheart. Did so well" he praised, brushing the few tears that had collected on your waterline. "Think you can cum on Helix's face now? I think he's so close he's going to blow" Crys whispered, caressing and stroking your cheeks as he shot his brother a teasing look.

Helix swore at his brother before plunging his tongue back into your soaked entrance, determined to push as deep as possible into you.

Your back arched, a broken cry leaving your lips as Helix wrapped his lips around you tightly and sucked. Tugging at his long hair, you couldn't help but feel your release wash over you as he continued to tease you with his tongue, drinking down the juices that erupted around him. Quivering at the powerful orgasm, you nearly missed the hot spurts that hit your ass. Realising what happened, you shuddered even more when you realised that Helix had come untouched and had painted your skin with his release.

Whimpering, you pushed his mouth away from you and rolled off him, panting heavily as you lay there, coming down from your high.

Sweet, gentle hands lifted your head and placed it onto a thick thigh. "My perfect, wonderful cyare. So beautiful. You did brilliant, love" Cody whispered his praises into your hair, bending down over you and laying kisses over your cheeks and head.

Sighing, you sunk into his reassuring touches and loving words, feeling them soothe you and bring your mind into a warm, heady cloud. Cody loved you so much, he was so pleased with you already and still there was more men to have you. Everything felt so right and comfortable that you almost missed Cody pressing something to your lips.

Blinking wide eyes at him, he sent you an adoring smile as he sat you up more and pressed the water canteen to your lips once again. The cool water did wonders for your throat and brought you back from that delightful and safe headspace that you had sunk into.

"That's it cyare, got to make sure you keep hydrated. Otherwise Helix will kill me" Cody chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple as you drank.

When you had your fill, you pushed the canteen away and Cody passed it off to someone else. He held you close on his lap, brushing warm circles on your back as he took you in. "Do you want to continue, cyare?" He checked in, giving your knee a quick squeeze.

You wanted nothing more than to continue. Helix and Crys had already made you feel amazing, your orgasm still making you feel small aftershocks of pleasure. Why wouldn't you want to continue with the rest of the troopers? Nodding eagerly, Cody chuckled, giving you a chaste kiss before helping you to lie-down once more on the mattress. He transferred your head onto someone else's lap.

Looking up into heated, brown eyes, you smiled at the moustached man who was gazing at you softly.

"Hey, verd'ika" he murmured, fingers brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.

Sighing and relaxing further into him, you almost purred at the amazing way that simple touch had you feeling loose and ready for more.

"Its mine and Wax's turn, you ready for us?" he asked, watching as a wide beam spread across your face.

"Yeah... I'm ready for you both" you assured, eyes flickering down the length of your body as you felt the mattress dip by your feet.

Waxer returned it with an easy but excited grin of his own before sliding his hands up and down your calves, going higher each time. "I really want to taste you, mesh'la. From the sounds of my brothers, you must taste divine" Waxer complimented, settling his broad frame in between your legs.

Blushing at his words, you couldn't help but nuzzle into Boil's hand. To have such beautiful, kind men eager to be with you had your heart soaring and filling with love for the troopers around you. "And I want this mouth. Had Crys and the Commander shaking like a tooka afterwards" Boil chuckled, running his thumb over your lips.

"Kriff off Boil, just wait until you have her mouth on your cock!" Crys retorted, huffing at his vod's teasing.

"Good idea vod, knew you'd have one eventually" Boil smirked, lifting his hips slightly to push his blacks down enough for his cock to bounce out. "Open up, mesh'la" he ordered, gripping the base of his cock. As soon as you opened your mouth for him, ready to take his length into your wet heat, he pushed the tip of his cock to rest against your tongue but moved no further.

Whining, you tried to push forward, bury more of his throbbing, weighted length into your mouth but he just tutted, pulling you back. "Just like this for now, verd'ika. I want you to just hold me in your mouth like this" Boil told you, running soothing hands up and down your arms and shoulders.

"That's it mesh’la, you keep him warm in your mouth while I get to work" Waxer beamed, pressing a little nip to your inner thigh before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.

The little yelp died in your throat at the way Waxer contrasted the harsh sting with the soft glide of his tongue. He continued to rain small kisses and little nips up your thighs before he reached the apex.

"You're gorgeous! No wonder the Commander likes to keep you to himself" Waxer breathed, brushing his nose along the crease of your thigh.

Sighing around the cock in your mouth, you reached for Waxer, brushing against his smooth head to try and encourage him to move to where you really needed him.

"I know, i know mesh’la, you just look so amazing" Waxer chuckled, his hands gripping your thighs and throwing them over his shoulders. His warm breath caressed along your swollen, wet heat, causing your nipples to harden even further.

A hand entwined in your own, and you looked up with heated eyes to see Boil's hand curled in yours, giving you something to squeeze and hold beside Waxer. As a reward, you gave a light suck to his tip and Boil let out a muffled curse.

"Get on with it Wax, she's starting to get impatient" Boil grumbled, flicking his brother's ear.

Waxer flinched away but did spread your folds open with his thumb, leaving your bare to his face before he licked a long, broad stripe from your entrance all the way to your clit. He circled the little swollen bud before returning to your entrance to do the same.

Letting out a groan, you slid your eyes closed, losing yourself to their touches and the way they held you still against them. Just giving you pleasure without having to do anything in return. Whining, you squeezed Boil's hands as your thighs trembled along Waxer's shoulders. The weight against your tongue was also keeping you distracted, because you wanted nothing more to take Boil further into your mouth, have his cock brush against your throat until you had tears streaming down your cheeks.

Keeping you spread for him, Waxer's tongue delved into your sweet hole, enjoying the way your walls shook and fluttered around his penetrative tongue, almost like you were drawing him further into you. He groaned at the thought, pressing closer into you and spreading your thighs wider around his head.

Dragging your hand down from his head to his powerful shoulders, your dug your nails into his blacks, groaning around Boil as his brother seemed to want to swallow you whole. The coil in tour stomach began to tighten as Waxer pulled away to nibble on your folds before taking them into his mouth and soothing them with his talented lips.

Boil brought your attentions back to him with a slight tug on the roots of your hair. He brushed his thumb over the apple of your cheeks before slowly beginning to push his cock across your tongue. Just as he brushed the back of your throat, he pulled back once more until the tip was just resting on your tongue.

Growling a little as you realised he was teasing you, setting a slow and controlled pace, you tried to lift your head to swallow him down completely but he just chuckled and pulled you off him.

"No, I want it like this" he said firmly, smirking at the whine that you let out and the pout that formed on your face. "Not used to getting told no, verd'ika? The Commander spoils you. I'll fuck this beautiful mouth how I want, don't worry we'll get you there, just have to be good for us, think you can do that?" Boil's stern but teasing voice filled your ears.

Fine, you would let him set the pace. And you weren't spoiled, Cody just loved to see the smile spread over your face and to know he was the one that caused that. Letting out a huff, you nodded, but quickly accepted the kiss that Boil pressed to the corner of your lips.

Straightening up, Boil pushed his cock back into your talented mouth, rocking in slowly and steady just to drive you mad.

It was such a contrast to what Waxer was doing between your legs though. The Lieutenant was running his tongue in small circles around your clit, never touching it but teasing you all the same. You could feel slick leaking down onto the bed, as he kept you open, thumbs hooking your folds apart. It left you feeling so exposed and you couldn't help but buck and press your hips into his mouth.

"Waxer!" you cried, pulling away from Boil when his vod finally flicked his tongue over your clit. Pleasure raced along your body, especially when Boil gave one of your nipples a sharp tweak. Panting heavily, you clenched around nothing, wanting to be filled as Waxer took your clit into his mouth. He alternated his sucks, keeping them light and then harsh, always having you writhe underneath him as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Letting out a sob, you tugged on Boil's hand and Waxer's head, wanting them closer, wanting more and more.

Chuckling against you, Waxer began flicking your clit in fast motions, determined to push you over into another orgasm. He didn't have to wait long as you cried out, back arching from the mattress as you came hard. He groaned, collecting your release on his tongue, tasting your sweet nectar as you shook around him, thighs quivering and small sobs escaping your lips as white hot pleasure washed through you in waves.

As you became oversensitive to the sweeps of his tongue, you pushed Waxer away, panting heavily against Boil's thigh. Waxer got onto his knees before you and you couldn't help but watch, eyes unable to move as Waxer quickly fisted his aching cock, pumping himself a few more times before he shot his release all over your stomach.

The warmth that landed on your stomach had you letting out a small moan, enjoying the way that the Lieutenant had painted you with his cum. It left you feeling marked, possessed in a good way. Like you belonged with them.

"Commander... can I try something different?" Wooley's voice interrupted your bliss, pulling your attention to the pair of troopers leaning against the wall.

Cody frowned, taking in his vod'ika's nervous behaviour and eager eyes. Glancing at you, he saw you were curious at his words as well. What did he want to try with you?

"You know the rules, Wooley" he warned, raising an eyebrow at his younger brother.

"I know sir, i just wanted... er to... to eat out her ass, sir" Wooley admitted, his cheeks reddening at the look Cody shot him as well as the wolf whistles of his brothers.

You felt heat flash through you at his words. It was something you hadn't even thought about happening tonight. But that didn't mean you didn't want to have Wooley's mouth on you, exploring your furled entrance.

Raising your eyes to meet Cody's, you could see that he was checking in with you. Wanting to make sure it was something you wanted to do tonight. It had been something you had explored with him before, but not something you had thought would happen in a session like this. Giving him a nod and a small smile, you reassured him that Wooley's request was okay.

Cody turned back to his brother with a hard look, wanting to tease him just a little. "Fine, same safe words and actions apply. Check in with her as well" Cody instructed, giving him permission.

"Wait! That's not fair, I didn't know that was allowed!" Waxer cried out, looking between his baby brother and you. Wooley shot him a smug look as he passed him.

"Careful Commander, your favouritism is showing" Helix smirked, leaning back against the table to watch.

"It’s not my fault that you lot wasn't creative enough to ask about this" Cody shrugged, used to the (well founded) accusations of favouritism of Ghost's youngest member.

Giggling at their complaints, you welcomed Wooley onto the mattress, taking his large hand in yours. "Hi" you greeted, smiling sweetly at the way Wooley blushed a little more at you.

"Hi" he echoed back, settling between your thighs, "you sure this is okay?"

"Hmm, more than okay" you assured him once more, squeezing his fingers as well.

"How do you want her, vod?" Boil asked, stroking along your jaw.

"Just like this. You two seem too comfortable to move" he answered, settling himself down in between your legs.

Your breath became a little heavier as Wooley pressed a kiss to your hip before his large hands slid underneath you to cup your butt and lift it up to his face. "Oh!" a startled yelp left you as your hips was lifted from the mattress, supported by the large, strong trooper.

"Like being picked up, verd'ika?" Boil grinned, stroking your cheek before returning his leaking cock to your mouth before you could even think of a retort.

It seemed that Boil was just as eager for this part of the night as well, as his pace increased slightly. Still controlled but not nearly as slow and careful as he was before. You wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing against him as much as possible as you sucked around his length.

A hot breath fanned against your forbidden entrance and it had your muscles clenching in Wooley's hands. Your heels dug into his back, ready to feel the fist touch of Wooley against you. Fortunately, you didn't have to wait long, as Wooley lightly pressed his tongue against your ass, trailed around it a few times before pulling away, not breaching you just yet.

Digging your nails into Boil's hip, you couldn't even rock forward suspended as you were between the two troopers. All you wanted was for Wooley to touch you again. "Please" you begged, as Boil's hips pulled away from you. It had the younger trooper groaning before he licked your clenched hole with slightly more pressure.

"Hmm, she sounds so cute when she's begging" Crys admired, watching the way your body shook slightly at his vod's touches and his praise.

"Relax, cyare, just let go" Cody added, noticing the tension in your body as you tried to keep from feeling too much and having this be over too soon.

Closing your eyes, you sunk into the feeling of Boil rocking his cock in and out of you while Wooley teased your furled hole. Finally you felt him push into you, stretching you around his tongue. The tight ring of muscle clenched around his venturing tongue, sending shock waves of pleasure through you, settling just behind your clit.

He lathered your opening with his saliva, making you nice and wet for him. You could feel him run his tongue along your tight muscles, coaxing you to relax and open up more for him. Wooley must have felt you relaxing around him because he groaned, the vibrations echoing through you and sending sparks up your spine.

"Fuck, sweetheart!" Boil cursed, pushing his cock further into your mouth and tugging at your hair. The vibrations that was surrounding his cock was making it difficult not to cum right then and there.

Moaning, your hand slipped between you, cupping his balls in your hand and gently squeezing and pulling at them. Your lips stretched around his thick length, running your tongue along the throbbing vein on the underside of his shaft.

"Kriff!" Boil hissed, eyes slamming shut as he thrust roughly into you as he came, pressing you down until your nose brushed against the wiry curls at the base of his cock.

Panting, you pulled away from him, sending the trooper a pleased, smug look as he almost looked deliriously at you, bliss written all over his face.

"Good girl, verd'ika" Boil gasped out, patting your head a few times before slipping out from beneath you.

Wookey squeezed your ass tight at the shift in position, keeping you secure against his mouth as his tongue devoured you. He pulled away slightly, spreading your cheeks wider before spitting on your puckered hole.

A cry left your lips at the feel of his wet, hot saliva trailing over your hole and down onto the mattress. It was something filthy and dirty and you wanted more of it. "Fuck, please! Please Wooley!" you cried, trying to writhe in his grasp but it was no use, he held you so tight.

The thick muscle returned to your ass, pushing as far in as Wooley could as he continued to squeeze and massage your ass cheeks. You reached down, hands gripping onto his Mohawk and no doubt ruining the gelled hair. Flicking his tongue over the rim resulting in another harsh tug before you felt your core tighten once more. You wouldn't be surprised if your arousal was leaking from you and dripping down your crack if it wasn't for the position that Wooley had you in.

But you wanted release, you were so close, all of them having worked you up and pushed you over the edge. You wanted it again. You wanted to cum again because it was too much.

"Cody, please!" you begged, turning watery eyes to your commander. However they didn't remain there long as they rolled into your head when Wooley grazed his teeth over your rim before suckling on it gently. You let out a loud cry, thighs trembling around Wooley's ears.

"Shh, I've got you cyare. I know, he's treating you so well, isn't he?" Cody cooed to you, brushing away your tears as you clutched onto his arm. You panted, nodding against him and bucking into Wooley's mouth, stomach fluttering as Wooley continued to devoured you. You just needed more and you knew you would cum. You just needed something to push you over the edge.

Digging your nails into Cody's arm, he locked his lips with yours, swallowing your cries as he brought his fingers to your clit, drenched in all your previous releases and arousal. He pinched the swollen bud lightly before circling it in quick, light touches that had you sobbing into his mouth.

Wooley moaned around you as he felt you walls clench and flutter around his tongue. He buried his face deeper inside of you, feeling his own cock throb at the sounds you were making.

"Cum for us, cyare" Cody demanded, keeping his firm pressure as he rubbed your clit.

The words and feel of both Wooley feasting on your ass and Cody playing with your clit had you falling over the edge, your muffled scream caught by Cody as your whole body tensed and went rigid before sinking back into their touches, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Your whole body felt boneless as they pulled away from you, leaving you feeling oversensitive and exhausted.

Distantly you felt two spurts of cum land on you, one on your lower stomach that must be from Wooley and the other on your breasts, the other source must be Cody. They panted, resting against you as you all struggled to catch your breath.

After a few moments, warm arms brought you into a broad chest and you looked up into the scarred face of your Cody. He had an exhausted smile on his face as he held you protectively in his arms. Brushing the sweat stroked stands from your face, he kissed your forehead.

"Feeling better, cyare?" Cody asked, hands running lightly up and down your back and along your thighs.

Humming, you gave him a tired smile and leant your head against his chest, listening to the dull thud of his racing heart as it slowed down to normal pace. You felt amazing, your body too tired to be tense and your mind wonderfully quiet for the first time in a long while.

"Let's get you cleaned up, the others can sort this out" Cody murmured, nuzzling into your hair.

"Come on you two, here's some water and food Commander. Make sure she has some. We'll clean the bedding and get everything sorted" Helix said firmly, helping you both up onto your feet. He kept a steady grip on you until he was assured your legs wouldn't give out.

As Cody took whatever supplies he was given from the medic, you turned to check on Wooley, to make sure he was okay after he had finished on you as well. But you didn't need to worry. Waxer was already coaxing his brother to take some water from the canteen, while Boil washed him down with a wet cloth. It always warmed your heart how much the clones looked after each other.

Your attention was drawn back to Cody, as he led you to a quiet spot and handed you a ration bar. He saw your grimace and chuckled, before pouring some water onto a cloth.

"Eat that cyare, while I wash you up. The boys really got you good" Cody said, pride shining in his voice at the sight of you covered in his and his brothers' cum. It set something primal off in him knowing that you were marked as his. That you belonged with him and the 212th.

Rolling your eyes, you nibbled on the flavourless bar, once again wondering how they could even eat this rubbish on the field. But you let Cody clean you up from their spend, gentle strokes along your chest, stomach and back, making sure that you were all clean. He gave himself a quick clean before throwing the cloth onto a pile of them, ready to be disposed of later.

"Come on love" he encouraged, taking your hand and leading you back over to the mattress. Only this time it was piled high with blankets and pillows, as well as the rest of the clones already getting comfortable in a cuddle pile.

Beaming, you pulled a spare blanket around you before sinking into the middle of the pile. Cody followed after you, getting complaints as he pushed his brothers over so he could lie next to you. Giggling, you welcomed being pulled into Cody's arms as all the rest of his vode pressed around you.

"Get some sleep, cyare. You've more than earned it" Cody whispered, kissing your head and holding you tight.

And in his arms, you had never felt safer. Surrounded by the heat and bodies of his brothers, you knew that whatever happened, you would always have Cody and his brothers. You weren't fighting this war alone.

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brodygold · 2 days ago

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Hey, there. My God-fearing girlfriend and her family (and mine) are all giving me migraines on end on why I should not get involved with you guys. But I think I wanna get involved and help start a Golden Army of swimmers wearing gold speedos and briefs. The only way for me to get my family on board is for... Ah, screw it, I'll come out and say it: can you please turn my controlling family, my obnoxious girlfriend, and her volatile and acrimonious family into the PERFECT speedo-wearing swim team and have me lead the team as well?! It would be the perfect Christmas present ever!

And Merry Christmas to you and your Golden Army! Will reblog! You'll know who I am when I do! Thanks a bunch!

Merry Christmas, bro! And to everyone else!

To be honest with you, bro, it sounds like it might be easier to just break up with your girlfriend. But I have heard love makes people do crazy things, so I can understand why you wouldn't want to. I know just what to do.

I teleported some special packages under their Christmas tree, wrapped in shiny gold paper and bows. As soon as one of them is opened, the speedo inside will launch itself at the target, becoming stuck on their body for a short while while the transformation takes place.

And what exactly is going to happen? I'm glad you asked!

For your girlfriend, let's just say he's more of your boyfriend now. There's no indication he was ever a woman to begin with, from head to toe. Sorry she's lost some of her more striking features if you know what I mean, but I think I more than made up for it downstairs. It can barely fit in the speedo!

Now I know what you're thinking. There's no way the others would open one of the gifts after that happens, and I agree. That's why the gifts are all set to open as soon as the first one does. Your girlfriend's family will never know what hit them!

And what hits them is pure transformation. I don't know what they look like to start, but just imagine it: chiseled abs, pillows for pecs, fully defined muscles in their arms and legs, a nice package down there, and a sporty haircut up top. The older folks will become much younger, still in their prime for swimming.

Let's talk about the mental changes too. Their minds will slow down slightly, their IQs dropping. Obviously they're all going to be into men now, whether they were before or not. Some of them I'll just make gay, but I'll also make some bisexual or pansexual, maybe an asexual too. We're all about diversity here in the Golden Army and embracing our true selves.

That's why they'll still be God-fearing, just not as extreme in their beliefs. They'll be much more liberal in their religion from now on. And they certainly won't have a problem with "sodomy" anymore!

I didn't forget about you of course, bro! I'll let you keep most of your thoughts and smartness, make your physical changes just a bit better to make you a true leader. Your "girlfriend" certainly will like the new you, bro.

I hope you enjoy your Christmas present from the Golden Army, bro. Practice starts at 6 am sharp tomorrow, and as swim team leader you better be there! We can worry about your family later. Just enjoy your new team for now!

#golden army #thegoldenteam #golden team #male transformation #jockification #male tf #jock tf #straight to gay #straight to bi #straight to pan

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sissylittlefeather · 3 days ago

Text

If I Can Dream: Chapter 7

A/N: A Christmas surprise! Two chapters in one day! Merry Christmas, friends! Masterlist.

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one.

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: none, this is pretty damn fluffy.

Word count: ~3.2k

“That's a fuck yes, babe.” He giggles and tickles her sides excitedly and they laugh together on the big-enough couch, naked and unafraid of the future… for now.

******

That night passes with Elvis and Jo talking for most of it until they finally fall asleep in bed all wrapped around each other just before sunrise. He's convinced her to stay home from work, so they make love when they wake up and then lay in bed until almost 3pm. Finally, she drags him out of bed and they spend the rest of the day in the kitchen. She has the idea for them to make Christmas candy and a gingerbread house. What they really make is a mess, but they have a blast licking icing and chocolate off of each other. They settle into the TV room with It’s a Wonderful Life on the projector and the candy they made that Elvis hasn't eaten yet. All in all, it's a beautiful day together and when they settle in bed at the end of it, Elvis is ready to spend every day like that. He mentions something to that effect to Jo and she makes a nervous sound.

“What's that sound for, Tink?” She looks at him with an awkwardly pained smile.

“I have to go home tomorrow.”

“Home?” He's confused, thinking she's already at home.

“To see my parents, I mean. For Christmas Eve.”

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve?” She rolls her eyes and giggles.

“Yes. It is. And my parents always have this big holiday party for the family.”

“Oh.” He gets a little sad thinking that he'll have to spend the next day without her.

“You could come with me.” She says cautiously. Elvis makes a thinking face.

“How many people?”

“Just my mom and stepdad and my step-siblings. You've already met my brother-in-law and niece. I also have a stepbrother who is married with 3 kids. My aunt and uncle will probably be there too. They don't have any kids, so they usually come to our holiday things. But that's all. Not a huge crowd.” She smiles and looks at him hopefully. He grumbles, knowing that he's going to have a hard time telling her no.

“Okay. I already went to a wedding and survived. I guess I can go to a Christmas party.” She squeals and snuggles into his chest.

“I love you so much.” He wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head.

“I love you too, Tink.”

******

Elvis stands in his closet in his robe, staring at the rows and rows of clothing. They're late and he knows it, but he has no idea what on earth he should wear to a family Christmas party. All of his clothing is either formal paparazzi-worthy outfits, jumpsuits, clothes that don't fit him, or tracksuits. None of those seem appropriate for where he's supposed to be going right now. He hears Jo's voice as she calls out to him.

“Elvis! Come on, babe, we're late!” She's taken to calling him ‘babe’ as often as possible and he really likes it. But today it just seems to add to his anxiety. He feels like he's going to let her down or embarrass her no matter what he chooses. She finally finds him in the closet near tears. “Babe, what's wrong?”

“Nothin’, honey.”

“Then why aren't you dressed yet? We gotta go.” She clicks her tongue to indicate they need to hurry. He just closes his eyes and hangs his head. “What is it? Talk to me.”

“I don't have anything to wear.”

“You literally have more clothes than anyone I've ever-”

“I don't have anything right to wear.” He slides his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose. She wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes him.

“Anything you wear will be perfect.” He looks down at her in her red dress with her makeup perfect. She looks so young and pretty, like she doesn't belong with him at all.

“Tink, I should probably just stay here.” She pulls away from him and looks up at him with a frown on her face. “Now don't go makin’ that face.”

“You told me you'd come with me.”

“Honey, I've just been thinkin’ and I don't-”

“Do you love me?” She puts her hands on her hips.

“Of course I do.”

“Do you trust me?” He sighs deeply.

“Yes.” She turns to the rows of clothing and picks out a black silk shirt with puffed sleeves, a red scarf, and some black pants and hands them to him.

“There. You can pick your belt and jewelry.” It's an outfit he never would've put together himself, but once he gets a gold belt and necklace on with his favorite black and red jacket, he's satisfied. He's especially pleased when he stands next to Jo in her red minidress with black tights and boots. They look like they belong together now and he smiles. There's just one thing missing. He walks over to a drawer and pulls out a box with a red bow on it.

“I was saving this for tomorrow, but I think you need it tonight.” She takes the box and looks up at him. She's no spring chicken, so she recognizes a jewelry box when she sees it. He watches as she opens the box to reveal a gold necklace with the letters ‘TLC’ around a lightning bolt, the whole thing encrusted in diamonds. “What do ya think?”

Jo is speechless as she looks at the necklace. She's never had anyone buy her such a lavish gift. Her voice comes out as a whisper.

“It's too much.” He tips her chin with his knuckle to make her look up at him.

“Nothing is too much for you. I can never repay you for what you've given me. So please, take the necklace and anything else I give you.” She nods slowly and he takes the necklace out of the box and puts it on her. He pulls back and whistles. “It suits you.”

“It's beautiful. Thank you.” She touches it with her fingertips gently.

“It goes with mine.” He pulls the gold ‘TCB’ necklace out for her to see. She’s seen it before, but never really given it much thought. “It tells people that you go with me.”

She wraps herself around him again and pulls him into a deep kiss. He holds her close and hums as he presses his lips to hers. When they finally break the kiss, he sighs.

“Alright, let's go. Meetin’ my girlfriend’s family. I'm not nervous at all.” She looks at him funny.

“Girlfriend?”

“Well, yeah. What did you think you were?” She shakes her head and shrugs.

“I didn't want to assume.” He grabs her and tickles her sides and she giggles, trying to get away.

“You're mine, Tink. If you've forgotten, I'm happy to throw you on this bed and remind you.”

“Later. Right now I have to take my boyfriend to meet my family.” She takes off running down the stairs and he follows her as quickly as he can, all the way to her car, where he pins her against it and kisses her, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he presses his hips against hers.

“You sure you don't want me to have Jerry drive us?” He whispers in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. She whimpers, but tries to resist.

“No, babe, your cars are too obvious. People will follow us. We need to be in my clunker.” He looks at her car. It really is a sad excuse for a vehicle.

“Well, okay then.” They slide into the front seat and he ducks so that the people at the gates don't see him.

******

When they pull into the neighborhood where Jo's parents live, Elvis looks at her in shock. It's one of the fanciest neighborhoods in Memphis with big, old houses that are both historic and beautiful. His jaw drops when she pulls up in front of a massive colonial mansion and stops the car.

“This is where you grew up?!” She laughs.

“God, no! This is my stepdad’s house. His family owns a lot of real estate in Memphis and he's some bigwig at a bank. They got married when I was 17.”

“Oh…”

“No, I grew up in an apartment with my deadbeat dad and my mother working two jobs to make ends meet. She's living the American dream now.” He nods and then leans in and kisses her cheek.

“So are you.” She looks at him and giggles.

“No, babe, I'm living a goddamn fairy tale.” He chuckles. “Now, come on. We're already almost an hour late.”

At the front door, Jo's not sure who is more nervous, her or Elvis. She holds onto the bottle of wine they've brought with a vice grip. Finally, her stepdad answers the door.

“Jo! You made it. And you brought… company…”

“Hi George. This is Elvis.” To his credit, her stepdad adjusts quickly and shakes Elvis’s hand without any further ado. As they make their way through the foyer, George grabs Jo.

“Your mother is going to have heart failure.” She looks at him with her eyes wide.

“Oh God. Let's hope not.” She runs to be in front of Elvis when he walks into the dining room where everyone is seated for dinner.

“Jo’s here!” Her mother jumps up from the table and runs to her, grabbing her in a hug. “And who have you- oh my God.”

“Hello, ma'am, I'm-”

“Elvis Presley.” Jo’s mom holds her hand over her mouth as Elvis stands there awkwardly. Everyone at the table is silently staring and Jo starts to panic. Maybe this was not a good idea.

“Elvis!” Amy launches herself out of her chair and onto Elvis like she's known him her whole life. He catches her in a hug.

“Hey, kiddo.” That seems to jar Rob back to reality as well, so he stands and shakes Elvis's hand.

“Nice to see you again. This is my wife Christine.” The introductions finally begin and everyone seems to relax significantly except Jo's mother. She's still starstruck, so Jo goes over to her.

“Mother. Please calm down. He's just a person.”

“A person you've idolized for two decades! How did you… when did… he…?” She stumbles over her whispered words.

“We met at one of his shows. We've been together since then. Now, please calm down.” Jo doesn't mention that the show was less than two weeks ago. Elvis walks back over to them, hoping he can put her mom at ease. He puts his arm around Jo's waist and holds his hand out for her to shake. She looks up at him and puts her hand in his and he promptly lifts it to his lips and kisses it.

“Elvis, this is my mother, Rose.” Jo looks up at him and he smiles.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Rose. Thank you for raising such an amazing daughter.” Jo’s mother giggles.

“Oh! Aren't you sweet? Thank you. It's lovely to meet you.” Once the initial pleasantries are finished, Rose and the rest of the room settle back into dinner as Elvis and Jo take their seats. The meal passes with good food and polite conversation that gets more and more comfortable as each minute passes. By the end of it, everyone is talking and laughing with Elvis like they've known him for years. Jo is impressed with his ability to blend in, and honestly he is too. But he reminds himself that he's just a person like they are. There's no reason he should act any different. He glances over at Jo every once in a while and smiles, his body filled with a kind of golden warmth when he looks at her.

“She's really something, isn't she?” Jo’s aunt Carol asks, catching Elvis as he stares at her.

“She really is.” He looks at Carol and smiles.

“She's been through a lot. It's nice to see her happy. My sister did her best to raise her, but they didn't have it easy. She's done well for herself.” Elvis nods, not sure where this conversation is going. “I'd hate to see her go through more. She deserves something real.”

Ah, there it is.

“Ma'am, I assure you, I have no intentions of hurting her.” Elvis looks at Carol seriously.

“We never intend to hurt people, do we?” Jo had mentioned that her aunt was tough and protective of her to a fault. This must be what she meant.

“No, I suppose not. But I'll say this: I've never loved anyone the way I love her. If I ever hurt her, it'll hurt me more.” Carol gives him a small smile and pats his hand.

“Good answer.” She moves the conversation to a different topic and he catches Jo's eye. Her eyebrows raise when she sees who he is talking to, but he gives her a warm smile and she's reassured. For a couple that's only been together for a matter of days, they communicate without talking pretty well.

The evening passes fairly quickly with the children opening presents and the adults drinking hot apple cider and eggnog. At one point, Jo's sister-in-law looks around the room for someone to take her six-month-old while she deals with something else for the kids. Without hesitation, Elvis takes him and holds him in his lap, playing with him and talking to him quietly.

“He's good with kids.” Jo’s stepsister Christine comments.

“Yes, well, he's a dad.”

“Mhmm. He only has the one daughter?” Jo answers without taking her eyes off of Elvis.

“Yes, Lisa Marie.”

“Have you met her?” She turns to look at Christine.

“No. I suppose I will tomorrow, though.”

“Sounds like it's pretty serious, then.” Amy runs up to her mom and Christine wipes the chocolate off of her face before she runs away again.

“Yeah… you could say that. He asked me to move in with him.”

“Oh, my. Is that what you want? A life with a rock star?” Jo purses her lips.

“I want a life with him.”

“You don't want a family?”

“Why couldn't we have a family?” Christine shrugs.

“He already had one and it didn't work. I'd think he's done with that part of his life. And I've read that he-”

“I'm going to stop you right there. Whatever you've read is probably not true. And as far as a family goes, he and I are all the family I need.” Jo means it when she says it, but the second she does, she starts to wonder if it's really true. Christine nods.

“As long as you're happy.”

“I am.” Jo takes a big swig of cider.

“Then I'm happy for you.” Just then, Elvis makes some face at Jo as one of the little girls puts a Christmas bow on his head and she almost giggles openly. Christine catches the interaction and puts her hand on Jo's shoulder. “He seems like he really loves you.”

“He does. And I love him.”

“Then that's all you need to know.” She pats Jo's shoulder and then Amy is back and she has to go get her something in the kitchen. Jo turns back to Elvis where he bounces her nephew on his knee and talks very seriously to her other two nieces, his hair now full of bows. Would he be willing to have more children? She's always thought of herself with kids someday, but is Christine right about that part of his life being over?

******

When the evening concludes, Elvis and Jo say their goodbyes and head back to her car to drive home. He's in the driver’s seat this time and she's leaned against his shoulder happily.

“Hey, honey, can we take a quick detour?” She sits up a bit and nods.

“Sure, babe.” He turns down a road that will lead them out to the country, but not really towards Graceland. About twenty minutes later, he pulls the car off of the road and parks in a small clearing.

“You got a blanket in the trunk?” She nods, glad that she does. He hops out and fetches the blanket. “Come on, Tink.”

She grumbles and slides out of the car. He wraps the blanket around his body and pulls her to him so that the blanket covers her too.

“Now look.” She looks out where he points and gasps. They're on a bit of a hill, so she can see the whole field below them filled with fresh, virgin snow. Above that, the moon is almost full as it glitters on the blanket of white crystals. The image is breathtaking and she almost cries with how pretty it is.

“It's beautiful.”

“This is one of my favorite spots. I love how many stars there are out here. And especially when there's moonlight on the snow.” She's quiet for a bit as she takes in the scenery. Then she whispers.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” He squeezes her and presses a kiss to her temple.

“I want to share everything with you.” Jo sighs. There's been a question burning inside her since she talked to Christine at the party.

“Can I ask you something?” Her heart flutters in her chest. It's not even what she thought she wanted, but being with him is different.

“Sure, Tink.” She hesitates for a moment, scared that this might be another thing that comes between them. He has the same fear, even though he doesn't know what she's about to say. Taking a deep breath, she continues.

“Would you want to have more kids?” He leans down and turns so that he can look her in the eye. She waits anxiously as he searches her face. At first, he's reluctant to make promises, but then the image of them in front of the fireplace with their little family passes through his mind and he knows his answer.

“Yes, honey. I'd love for us to have a little Elvis Junior or baby Jo runnin’ around.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Tink. I love kids and I love bein’ a daddy and I think you'd make a great mama. If it's what you want, we'll have a dozen kids.” She giggles.

“I think one would be plenty.”

“Whatever you want, honey.” He wraps the blanket tighter around them and she lays her head back on his chest. Fat snowflakes start to drift down from the sky as they stand there together.

Jo is as happy as she's ever been living her fairy tale. But she can't help the niggling thought that this might all be over as soon as he leaves for tour or Vegas. He's saying all the right things, but does he mean them long term? She's never been one to worry about the future, but the thought of losing him makes her stomach turn over. Still, right now he has his arms around her and she's perfectly content to stay there forever, looking out over the untouched snow with the moonlight sparkling like diamonds.

******

Almost the end!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #Elvis x Jo #elvis presley x oc #Elvis Presley x Jo Bellamy

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xnalux · 4 hours ago

Text

astronaut!vi hcs

modern!au, engineer!reader, enemies!to!lovers

warnings: mention of claustrophobia and panic attack, fem!reader

pictures are from pinterest and they're not mine except the edit of astronaut!vi who screams ''graphic design is my passion''

author’s note: my christmas was the shittiest so i had to cope somehow and yesterday while i was watching the new ''alien'' this idea came to my mind. this turned out longer than i inteded it to be but i still hope you like it. also it would mean the world to me if you'd let me know what you think about it and if you want to be tagged when i post the part two.

-a kiss on the ass to all of u ♡

astronaut!vi: when she was a child, vander introduced violet and powder to the world of ''star wars'' and from then on it became their dream to go to space.

They used to hide themselves late at night under a big blanket on violet's bed, with the glow of a flashlight illuminating the pages to read comics about intergalactic adventures. That's how vander would found them most of nights.

Powder's breath hitched as the plot thickened, her small hand reaching out to clutch her sister's arm.

"What happens next, Vi?" she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

Violet smirked, her confidence unshakeable.

"Don't worry, pow pow. They're going to save the galaxy."

The two sisters were lost in the narrative, their hearts pounding in unison with the pulse of the story. The flashlight flickered slightly, casting dancing shadows on the walls, as if the spacecraft in their comic had somehow entered the room.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the harsh light from the hallway spilled in. Vander, loomed in the doorway.

He had the look of a man who had been roused from a much-needed sleep by the sound of whispers and rustling pages. Despite his stern expression, there was a hint of fondness in his eyes.

"Girls," he began, his voice a gentle rumble. "It's way past your bedtime."

Violet froze, the flashlight beam quivering in her hand. She had been so lost in the story she hadn't heard his approach. Powder, yanked the blanket up over their heads, turning their sanctuary into a cocoon of darkness once more.

"We're almost done" Violet called out, her voice muffled by the fabric. "Just one more page."

Vander chuckled, his footsteps heavy but soft as he crossed the room. He knew this dance well—their secret nightly ritual. He bent down.

"Violet, you know the rules," he said, his voice a gentle scold.

Violet sighed dramatically. "Yes, sir,"

she replied, emerging from the blanket with a sheepish grin.

"But you know how it is with Captain Nova. She never knows when to quit."

Powder poked her head out, her cheeks flushed with excitement and a hint of guilt. "We'll go to bed right after this, promise," she chimed in, her eyes pleading.

Vander sighed, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Fine," he relented. "But this is the last time, you two. You've got school tomorrow, and you need your rest."

With a nod of understanding, Violet and Powder tucked themselves back under the blanket, the flashlight beam once again illuminating their faces. They shared a conspiratorial smile before Violet resumed her tale.

astronaut!vi: her and powder room when they were kids was a sanctuary for their shared dreams and ambitions.

The walls were a soft shade of midnight blue, filled with glow-in-the-dark stars that they had meticulously applied. It was their own personal galaxy that they would gaze upon each night before drifting off to sleep, dreaming of the adventures they would one day embark upon together.

On one side, Violet's bed was neatly made, her sheets adorned with images of rockets and planets, the pillows arranged with military precision. Above her bed was a bookshelf filled with well-worn copies of astronomy textbooks, science fiction novels, science magazines. Above the bookshelf shelf, a poster of a fiery comet streaking across the sky served as a daily reminder of the thrill and beauty of space exploration.

Powder's space, on the other hand, was a bit more chaotic but no less enchanting. Her bed was covered in a blanket that looked as if it had been plucked straight from the surface of Mars, with swirls of red and orange hues that whispered of alien landscapes. Scattered across her side of the room were models of various spacecraft, each in a state of half-assembly. Her desk was a treasure trove of sketches and doodles, depicting her own imaginative interpretations of the universe. These drawings were taped to the walls, creating a mural of stars, planets and aliens.

The center of the room was dominated by a large, wooden telescope that their Vander had built for them and the floor around it was often littered with astronomy magazines and star maps, evidence of the countless hours they had spent poring over them, plotting their future adventures.

Above their beds, suspended from the ceiling, were twin planets, crafted from papier-mâché and painted with meticulous care.

astronaut!vi: her lesbian awakening was ellen ripley from alien.

After watching it with powder for the first time she became obsessed by it. saved up her money to buy all king of merchandise that revolved around it.

At first she just brushed it off as just being fashinated by a very fucking great movie thus “the aliens were freaking cool” but after the tenth time she rewatched it she started to notice how her gaze lingered on the curves of the astronaut's body, how her heart did a little twirl in her chest whenever the woman was on the screen.

It was the kind of revelation that changes a person, that makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself. But it was also thrilling, a secret she kept close to her chest, a bud of self-discovery ready to bloom.

at some point even powder noticed it and started teasing her about it.

One day, while the two were window shopping in a comics store, Powder pulled out from a shelf a magazine with an image of Sigourney Weaver as Ripley on the cover.

She held it up to Violet with a smirk, saying,

"Look who it is, your girlfriend."

Violet's cheeks turned bright pink ''shut up'' she snatched the magazine, feigning annoyance. But deep down, she knew her sister was onto something.

From that moment on, Powder took every opportunity to tease her big sis about her newfound infatuation.

It started with playful nudges and knowing looks, escalating to whispering "Ripley" every time she caught her off guard. Violet would roll her eyes and swat her away, but the truth was, it didn't bother her as much as she let on. In fact, it was almost like Powder was giving her permission to explore this new aspect of herself, to embrace it without shame.

astronaut!vi: who had a mental breakdown when she found out, late in her middle school years, that she was dyslexic thinking it would get in the way of achieving her dream of entering the astronaut academy.

it felt as though the universe had suddenly turned against her. The diagnosis didn't just shake her world,it fractured it.

For a week, she retreated into her room, refusing to come out or engage with the world that had so cruelly deceived her. Her books, once her solace and companions, were now her enemies, each page a silent testament to her perceived limitations.

Powder, tried everything in her arsenal to lift her spirits, silly jokes, spend all her saved up coins to buy her the new action figure of alien, even her infamous "World's Best Sister" cinnamon toast, but nothing could penetrate the thick fog of despair that had enveloped Violet.

One evening, as the sun began to set, painting the sky with a palette of fiery oranges and purples, Vander knocked gently on Violet's door. "Kiddo" he called out softly, "can I come in?"

Violet's voice was small, "Yeah, sure."

He entered, his eyes immediately going to her desk where her schoolbooks lay scattered like the ruins of a defeated army. He took a deep breath before speaking,

"you know I don't say much, but when I do, I hope you listen." he continued looking down at vi "I know it's been tough, but you can't let this get to you."

Violet looked up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears,

"How can you say that? Everything I've ever worked for…it's all gone!"

Vander took a seat beside her, his face a picture of calm determination, "It's not gone, not even close. Being dyslexic doesn't define you, it's just a part of who you are."

He took her hand in his,

"Do you know how many great minds were dyslexic? Einstein, for one, couldn't read until he was seven. He went on to change the way we understand the universe. Or take Edison, he failed over a thousand times before inventing the lightbulb. And what about Walt Disney? He had to overcome dyslexia to create an empire of imagination."

Violet listened, her spirit slowly rising like a phoenix from the ashes of doubt, "But, the Astronaut Academy…"

"Violet" Vander said with a gentle smile, "if you want to reach the stars, you will. There's no rulebook that says you can't get there because your brain processes information differently.''

He leaned in, "You're, capable, and smarter than anyone I know. You've always found a way to conquer challenges, and this is just another one. You're going to prove to everyone that you can do it, that you can be the best of the best."

His words resonated within her, a spark igniting in her chest. Vander had always been her rock. As she looked into his eyes, she felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could still make it happen.

With a sniffle, she nodded, "You're right. I'll figure it out."

Vander's smile grew, "I know you will. And remember, you're not alone in this. We're a team, you and me and powder…''

As soon as the name of the younger girl fell out of vander lips the door flew open and a little ball of energy bounced inside, blue hair glinting in the dim light of the room as powder quickly jumped on vi's lap.

''the dyslexic team'' she exclaimed dripping with enthusiasm and innocence.

Violet couldn't help but burst in laughter ''that's not how it works pow pow'' powder jutted slightly her lip pouting

''but i want to be as cool as you''

violet just ruffled her blue hair ''you're already the coolest squirt''

astronaut!vi: who from then on worked her ass off and graduated at the top of her middle and high school classes all the while training her physics hitting the gym, running marathons, or practicing kickboxing. she pushed herself to the edge and beyond, sculpting a body that could keep up with the demands of her curious mind.

astronaut!vi: who has a double STEM degree in computer and pshysical science and in the end get accepted in the astronaut academy. when it was time for her to move in to the academy powder cried even tho she still denies it.

Violet was focused intently on the task at hand, zipping up her duffel bag.

Vander appeared in the doorway. He cleared his throat, his calloused hands gripping the doorframe as he assessed the situation.

“You all set, kiddo?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble that echoed the pride he felt for her.

Violet nodded, not looking up from her task. "Yeah, just about."

Powder was sit on the edge of her bed trying to mantain a stoic face but her blue eyes glimmered with unsheaded tears.

vander stepped closer, his hand resting on vi's shoulder in a firm, comforting squeeze.

"Remember, you can do this," he said, his voice low and steady. "You've worked hard, and you're going to be amazing out there."

violet fondly rolled her eyes ''you're getting soft old man'' she tried to lighten up the mood even tho she could feel a lumpforming in her throat.

As soon as vander had left the two girls alone telling violet he was gonna wait for her in the car, a silence filled the room.

vi stood with her arms outstreched her gaze set on powder who was still looking at the point of her colorful boots.

''what? aren't you gonna say bye?''

violet voice was soft, trembling slightly due to the multiple different emotions she was feeling. Powder looked up and suddendly she surged forward throwing herself on the chest of her sister.

violet felt the warmth of Powder's embrace and the weight of her younger sister's head against her chest.

She wrapped her arms around her, her own eyes misting over.

"Hey, squirt" she murmured, stroking powder's back.

"It's just a couple of years, okay? You'll be up there with me before you know it."

"You better send me some cool nasa stuff" powder sniffed, her voice huffled due to her face squished agaist vi's chest.

Violet chuckled, her eyes shining with love and a touch of mischief. "You know I will" she said, ruffling her sister's braids, something she always did to annoy powder "And don't you dare get into any trouble while I'm gone."

As they pulled away, Powder managed a teary smile ''no promises''

the blue haired girl held out a small, folded piece of paper. ''I got you something" she said, her lips curling in a mischievous smile.

"A little… inspiration for when you get lonely at the academy''

violet took the paper, her curiosity piqued. As she unfolded it, she couldn't help but laugh. It was a photocard of none other than Ellen Ripley.

"You little…" Violet said, smiling and shaking her head, her cheeks a bit flushed.

"remember to always kick some asses" Powder said with a firm nod. "And hey, maybe you'll find your own space girl there."

Violet rolled her eyes playfully. "Powder…"

"What? It could happen!"

Their laughter filled the room as Violet tucked the photocard into her pocket.

She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, taking one last look around her room. It had been her sanctuary for so long, but now it was time to move on to greater things.

"Alright, let's go" she said, her voice steady.

astronaut!vi: who becomes a girl crush at the astronaut academy.

During the physical exams at the atronaut academy she shines. Whether it's the zero-gravity maneuvers, the endurance tests, or the high-pressure simulations, violet excels.

Her peers watch in awe as she glides through the obstacle course, her muscles rippling beneath her sleek spacesuit.

The whispers started in the locker room, where the other female cadets couldn't help but steal glances at her broad shoulders and the way her uniform fitted just right.

They talked about her in the mess hall, trading stories of her latest feats of strength or the time she figured out a solution to a physics problem that had stumped everyone else.

The crushes were subtle, the glances lingering, but the admiration was clear.

astronaut!vi: who is actually fucking oblivious and never get the hint when girls actually flirst with her.

one day, as the academy's cafeteria buzzed with the usual mix of recounted training sessions and space trivia debates, a fellow girl cadet, approached Violet's lunch table.

She approached Violet with a tray of food and set her tray down gently next to Violet's.

"Hey, Vi, how'd you manage to nail the zero-g obstacle course today?" she asked, her voice a little softer than the usual. "I mean you are always so strong and capable."

Violet, her mouth full of food, looked up with a cheeky grin. "Just a bit of luck and a whole lot of practice"

she said, shrugging off the compliment.

the fellow girl cadet leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling like distant stars. "Maybe we could practice together some time?" she suggested, her voice a delicate balance between casual and hopeful.

But Violet, lost in her own little world of space-induced euphoria, took her words at face value. "Sure, I could use the company," she said, patting the seat next to her. "We can go through the simulations again tonight if you want."

that's how violet usually accidentally friendzoned girls. In the end it would always ekko, Violet's best friend and a fellow cadet who was as sharp as a tack, who made her notice what she was so oblivious to notice.

''you are aware she was hitting on you right?''

Violet's eyes widened, and she choked on her drink. "what?!" she sputtered, coughing. "she just wanted to train more!"

Ekko smirked, slapping her on the back. "geez, you're fucking hopless" he teased her ''at this rate you will land on mars before even losing your virginity''

violet's cheeks turned a delightful shade of red, and she playfully shoved Ekko.

"Shut up"

astronaut!vi: who absolutely couldn't stand you, you were a cadet at the academy with a STEM in engineering but who lacked a bit on the physical strenght and practical thinking or as she liked to call you ''a smartass know it all who wouldn't last one second if she actually got to space''. You two always ended up bickering during simulation training.

like when during an intense space shuttle emergency drill simulation, you and violet were tasked with navigating a simulated crisis together. The lights were flashing, alarms were blaring, and the stress levels were through the roof. you had to work as a team to save your hypothetical spacecraft and its virtual crew.

She started commanding you around as you began to suggest alternative procedures based on some engineering manual you had read and even though some of them deserved merit she wasn't listening to you leaving you feeling frustrated.

''if you just stopped for a second and listened to me'' you bursted out clenching your fists to the side

She rolled her eyes and shot back.

"This isn't the time for your textbook theories, we're following the protocol!"

but you didn't falter and your suggestions grew more frequent, and she had had enough. She grabbed the intercom and announced

"Mission control, we have an uncontrollable know-it-all on board. Requesting immediate evacuation."

The room burst into laughter, even the instructors couldn't help themselves.

But Violet's message was clear: she didn't trust you to follow through in a real crisis and this infuriated you.

astronaut!vi: who actually couldn't shut up about you. she never lose the chance to bring u up in the conversation to rant about something infuriating you did that day to powder when they videocall at night in her room until one night powder had had enough.

Violet, sat in the dimly lit confines of her dorm room at the astronaut academy, her laptop screen casting a bluish hue on her face. She was dressed in her tank top with the academy's logo emblazoned on the chest, and navy blue sweatpants that hugged her muscular thighs. Her hair pulled back into a tight bun, revealing the contours of her sharp jawline and the small scar above her right eyebrow.

on the screen was powder, with a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth, powder leaned into the camera, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"So, what'd she do this time?" she drawled, a knowing look in her eyes noticing the sour mood violet was in.

"You wouldn't believe it"

Violet began falling right in the trap of the blue haired sister, and with her voice filled with a mix of exasperation and incredulity she dived in a rant about something you did that rubbed her in the wrong way during training.

powder's smirk grew wider as she leaned back in her chair.

"what a surprise sis, talking about the infamous smartass again" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What's her name again?"

"Doesn't matter" Violet replied, waving a dismissive hand. "what matters she's always questioning my methods, always assuming she knows better when she probably couldn't even find her way out of a paper bag if she didn't have a GPS.''

"you know" Powder suggested, her voice playful. "for someone who affirm to not stand her you surely mention her a shit-ton of times"

Violet rolled her eyes crossing her arms over her chest. "what's that even supposed to mean"

"oh, come on" Powder teased, her eyes glinting. "Admit it. you've got a crush on her and your pining is getting pathetic sis"

The room grew silent as the words hung in the air.

Violet's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, and she sputtered, "What? No! That's ridiculous. I can't stand her!"

Powder leaned in closer, her smirk morphing into a full-blown grin. "But why do you talk about her so much, then?''

Violet opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Her mind raced back to the times she'd found herself stealing glances at the you.

"You know what, Powder?" she finally said, her voice tight. "You're out of your mind.''

Powder's grin became even bigger and she sing songed "you want to scissor with her in space so bad''

Violet almost choked on her own spit as she let out an horrified high pitched sound.

''what the fuck pow''

astronaut!vi: who from that night on from that moment on, Violet couldn't function around you the way she used to. Her usual sharpness was blunted by an awkwardness that was unexpected. whenever you entered a room, she would stumble over her words, her sentences trailing off into nothingness. Her eyes, which once bore into you with a look that could cut through the vacuum of space, now darted away, unable to hold your gaze due to her mind conceiving image of you two in compromising situation always ending up cursing herself under her breath ''get a fucking grip''.

during training sessions, she'd stumble when you offered a solution to a problem, her mind racing with thoughts she hadn't allowed herself to entertain before. In the weightlessness of the zero-G chamber, she'd fumble with the equipment, and when you'd gracefully glide over to assist, she'd snap at you, her voice cracking under the weight of her own denial.

After all she was an hormonal young woman who suddendly became hyper aware of how attractive you were even tho you still got under her skin like no other.

you, on your end, noticed the shift in her demeanour and the how the tension between you two had shifted to something different but you were too convinced she hated you to actually understand what was right in front of you.

astronaut!vi: who one day kisses you.

It was during a routine simulation, one that you'd both done a hundred times before, that things took an unexpected turn. You were supposed to be running through the emergency protocols for a spacewalk gone wrong.

You were in the simulator, the walls closing in around you, the artificial gravity playing tricks with your inner ear.

Suddenly, the room grew smaller, the air thicker, and your heart began to race. You had never told anyone about your claustrophobia, not even the academy psychologists. It was your secret, your weakness, and you had hoped it would never come to light.

Violet was in the control room, watching the monitors as you fumbled with the virtual equipment. She had her usual smirk on her face, ready to make a snide remark about how you'd probably trip over your own feet in zero gravity.

But then she noticed something off about your movements, something she hadn't seen before. Your hands were shaking, and your eyes were darting around the tiny space like a trapped animal's.

"Come on, you've got this" she said over the intercom, expecting you to snap back with a clever retort. But instead, there was only silence, broken by your rapid, shallow breathing.

Panic was setting in, and you were unable to respond, let alone move.

Her smirk faded, replaced with a frown of concern. "What's wrong?" she demanded, her voice sharp. "Why aren't you responding?"

You tried to speak, to explain, but the words wouldn't come out. Your mouth was dry, and your chest felt tight. You could see her getting frustrated, tapping her fingers impatiently on the control panel.

"This isn't the time for games" she said, her voice tight. "You need to focus."

But it was no use. your mind was racing, and you couldn't control the fear that was overwhelming you.

It was then that she saw it: the sheen of sweat on your forehead, the way you were clutching at the console. And she realized it wasn't you being a know-it-all who was incapable of action. It was something else entirely.

Her expression softened, and she stepped away from the controls. "Hey, it's okay" she said gently. "Just breathe. In… out… in… out…"

Your eyes found hers through the small window of the simulator, and you tried to follow her instructions, but the panic was like a beast that had you in its grip.

violet made a split-second decision. She knew you were in trouble, and she couldn't just stand there and watch. She hit the emergency override, and the simulator popped open, revealing you, gasping for air.

without a moment's hesitation, she climbed into the simulator with you, ignoring the safety protocols. Her strong arms gripped your shoulders, shaking you slightly trying to get you out of your mind.

"You're okay" she murmured. "You're okay. It's just a simulation."

But the words weren't enough. You could feel your heart racing, your breath coming in ragged gasps. And then, without any warning, she leaned in and kissed you. It was a soft, gentle kiss, a kiss that said more than any words ever could.

For a moment, the world stopped spinning. The fear receded, and all you could feel was the warmth of her lips and the steady beat of her heart. It was like a lifeline thrown into the abyss of your panic. And slowly, ever so slowly, your breathing began to even out.

When she pulled away, you stared at her, stunned. The room was quiet except for the hum of the equipment and the sound of your own breathing.

''I c-can't'' you choked out, your own hands shoot up grabbing at vi's gear.

violet's eyes searched yours, the blue of them piercing through the fog of your panic. She saw the desperation in your gaze, the silent plea for help.

Her hands moved to cradle your face, and she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your cheek. "Look at me'' she whispered firmly, her voice a soothing balm to the chaos in your head. "Breathe with me."

your eyes remained wide, but you managed a nod, focusing on her face. Her thumbs brushed away the beads of sweat from your forehead, a tender gesture that somehow grounded you.

"In" she instructed, drawing in a deep breath, "and out." Her exhale was slow and deliberate, and you tried to mimic it, but your breaths were still ragged.

"Violet, I… I can't" you stammered, your voice trembling.

her grip tightened, and she leaned in even closer, her eyes never leaving yours. "You can" she insisted, her voice a gentle command. "You're strong, smartass"

but the panic was a raging storm, and her words alone couldn't calm it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched you struggle, and she remembered something stupid she once read somewhere.

Without giving it another thought, she leaned in and pressed her lips to yours. It was a soft, brief kiss, but it was enough. Your eyes widened in shock, and for a second, the panic took a backseat.

as Violet's lips met yours, the world outside the simulation faded away. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, there was only the feeling of her breath mingling with yours, the warmth of her touch, and the sudden, inexplicable calm that flooded through your body. The claustrophobic walls of the simulator no longer seemed so daunting.

Her kiss was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the tough exterior she usually presented. It was like a lifeline thrown into the abyss of fear that had consumed you. Your breathing slowed, the hyperventilation subsiding, as the warmth of her embrace began to replace the cold grip of panic.

When she pulled away, you remained still, your eyes locked with hers, trying to understand what had just happened. You felt a strange mix of relief and confusion. The room around you was the same, the cold metal and the artificial lights, but something within you had shifted.

Violet's cheeks were flushed, and she looked surprised at her own actions. "I… I read somewhere that a kiss can help stop a panic attack" she said clearing her throat, her hand scratching awkwardly her nape and her usual confidence momentarily forgotten. "It's… it's supposed to help ground you, I guess."

the air between you crackled with an awkward tension as you stared at each other. Your chest was still heaving, but the fear was slowly subsiding.

the instructor's voice through the intercome pulled you both back to reality "Cadets, report status."

Violet cleared her throat and responded, "We're… we're okay. Continue with the simulation."

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