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fictionismyreality3 · 2 days ago

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Flowers and First Dates

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, home invasions, allusions to violence

Notes: this is the longest fic I’ve written in so long and now my fingers hurt 😞

Whoever was crashing around in your store downstairs really wasn’t going to find much. It was 4am, and you had long since put away any profits for the day. Which is why it took your sleep drunk brain, eyelids heavy with a forgotten dream, to realize this was actually happening.

The sharp cracking of what you’d long since memorized to be the sound of a flower pot breaking stirred you out of your frozen terror.

Springing up from your bed, your flung the covers off in a panic, a jolt of sheer dread going down your spine when you heard a set of heavy, lumbering footsteps climbing the stairs that connected your flower shop to your flat. To you. Stumbling blindly in the dark, you pushed away the urge to turn your beside light on.

Somehow in your panic you had enough foresight to try and deceive your would-be thief into thinking you weren’t home. With shaky hands, you unlocked your phone, hitting the call button for one of your newest contacts without thought.

Price was happy for Kate. Really, he was. But the warmth and open love he saw in the eyes of her and her wife did nothing to stop the growing sour spot in his chest. And when they’d announced their plans to have a baby, even if it was just told to the small inner circle of the team, it dug the knife in John’s gut deeper.

Pushing open the door of the nearest place he could find to buy flowers, he brushed his shoes on the mat, fixing the collar of his coat in an attempt to pacify his gruff appearance.

The sound of the bell jingling brought your vision from the invoice book you were filling out.

"Hi, what can I help you with?"

Jesus fucking christ.

All the air got knocked out of Price's lungs, his mouth opening and closing as he stood there like a gaping fish. You were like a ray of sunshine. All bright smiles and dainty hands, elegant movements that he couldn't help but follow with his eyes.

And fuck, that sundress you were wearing, a pretty yellow that he was sure would be permanently burned into his eyelids. Yellow was his favourite colour now.

Running a hand over his beard, John let out a huff of air, a tortured feeling screwing itself deeper into his chest. There were posies or some shit dotted along the fabric of your dress, the dress that had his hands twitching at his side as he itched to rip it off of you. He almost forgot he was supposed to be looking at a flowers for Kate, not at the flowers covering your pretty little-

"Is there something in particular you're looking for, sir?"

Sir, sir, sir, sir, sir, sir, sir-

Trying not to look like a creep, John cleared his throat, a sheepish smile on his face. "Just lookin' for some flowers for a collegue of mine, luv."

Luv, luv, luv, luv, luv, luv-

Plastering on a polite smile in an attempt to hide how your cheeks were heating up in a blush, you stepped out from around the counter, brushing the dirt off your hands. Helping him search for the right combination, you plucked out some myrtle, yellow roses, and daffodils. As you placed each one in the vase, you went over the meanings, unaware of John's intent gaze on your face.

He had no clue what a begonia was but god did he like hearing you talk.

By the time you were done putting together the bouquet, John seemed unable to wipe the smile off his face, his eyes on you the entire time. It was only when you started ringing up his total that he realized this interaction would remained entirely transactional unless he did something about it.

"Say, luv, y'got a lad waiting for you at home?" It was blunt, but he figured it better to rip the bandaid off, spare him the torture.

Your hand stilled over the buttons of the register. "Uh, no. I don't." A nervous chuckled burbled out of your mouth, cutting through the air.

"Y'want one?"

Shit.

The words seemed to catch in the air, lingering tauntingly between the two of you as Price kicked himself for not keeping a better hold on his tongue. Sparks of uncertantity fluttered in your chest. The piercing blue eyes staring back at you gave no relief, especially when they held just as much embarrassment as yours.

"Are you-"

"Do you want-"

Both of you spoke at the same time, John lowering his head and huffing out a chuckle. He cleared his throat, looking at the way your pretty face was heating up in a blush. He could ask a girl on a date. He'd done harder things. But with the way his tongue felt like lead in his mouth, it seemed a miracle he got any words out at all.

"Look, sweetheart." He sucked his teeth, eyes darting to where you were white-knuckling the counter.

"Y'seem like a lovely girl. And I'd love to.." Why was he sweating like a teenaged boy?

"Do you want my number?"

Sucking in a breath, John met your eyes with a sheepish smile. For such a soft looking thing, you had more guts than most of his rookies.

He left your shop with a bouquet and a smile.

They were fiddling with the doorknob to your apartment now. The jangling of the metal stabbed another bolt of fear in your chest. You couldn't get to the bathroom to hide. It was across the hall and you weren't really in the mood to dart out and get spotted.

The dial tone kept rumbling through the speaker of your phone. You checked the lock on your bedroom door again.

John's head was pounding, the scent of cigarettes, rum and cheap beer punching him in his throat. With a groan, he sat up and ran a hand over his beard, the sound of his phone ringing cutting through his grogginess.

"Hmm? Wha' is it?"

A sigh of relief whooshed out of your lungs, but when you went to take a breath again, all that came out was this tortured choking noise.

Eyes darting to the time, Price glanced around the rec room at his team's sleeping forms. Nobody had his phone number aside from the people he trusted, and they were all passed out in various states of drunkenness.

"Who is this?"

His voice was raspy, weathered by his constant cigar smoking. You latched on to the sound. "J-John?"

Jolting upright, Price snapped wide-awake at your panicked tone, getting up and kicking Ghost's leg to wake him up. He was already grabbing his beat-up flannel, mind running through possibilities and reasons for your distressed voice.

"What's goin' on, luv? Talk to me."

Your lip wobbled, eyes catching on the doorknob of the closet you'd locked yourself in. You could hear them in your apartment now, drawers opening and closing as they rustled around in your kitchen.

"There's someone in my h-house."

Price grabbed the keys to his truck, molten anger beginning to bubble in the center of his chest as he let out a curse. Ghost was the first to rouse, eyes snapping open in an automatic response of hypervigilance. Spotting his captain already walking out of the door, he shook Soap and Gaz awake.

"Wha'? Was try-"

"Get the fuck up, Johnny. Something's wrong."

John didn't have to look back to know his men were follwing him as he stormed through the halls of base and out to the parking lot. He didn't have to bat an eye as he tossed Gaz the keys and barked an adress at him, not bothering to explain to you how he knew where you lived.

"John? I can hear them g-getting closer." You squeaked out, picking a a hangnail to focus on anything else.

"Luv, I need y'to listen to me, alright?"

"Alright."

Gaz started the truck, pulling onto the empty 4am roads. "Take a breath for me, sweethear'.' Your lungs sucked in air regardless of your panic. "Y'somewhere with a locked door?"

"I... I locked myself in my closet."

The sniffle in your voice tore through his heart, his fists already clenching as he thought about getting his hands on whoever was stupid enough to cause you distress. "Good girl."

Gaz shot him a look.

"Jus' keep talkin' to me, yeah?"

"Please don't hang up."

Something fell with a loud crash, a whimper caught in your throat as you pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your sobs. You could hear them getting closer and closer and soon they would-

"Darlin'?" A whiney noise came out of you. "Breathe f'me, luvie."

"John-"

Barking at Gaz to drive faster, Price countined to mutter praises into his phone, trying to keep you talking and out of the spiral of panic he could hear you slipping into.

"Ken y'tell us what's goin' on, Cap?" Soap was the only one still a little too sloshed to have put the pieces together. That, and he was a little dense sometimes.

"Someone's in my girl's house."

Johnny didn't crack a joke like he wanted to, closing his jaw that wanted to hang open as he caught the tightly contained venom in his captain's voice when he pushed Gaz to drive faster, faster. None of them had to ask for instruction. This was their captain's girl, even if they hadn't known she existed. This was personal.

Gaz shortened the 20 minute drive into 5. He could deal with the ticket later.

You were crying now, hot tears running down your cheeks as you tried to keep yourself as quiet as possible. Heavy boots stomped closer to your room. Someone was trying the doorknob. John was still talking, his husky voice running into your ear, but you couldn't hear him anymore. Not really.

You were too focused on the sound of glass shattering, a small part of you wondering if your favourite mug would survive all this. There had to be at least two people, that much you were sure of with the way the footsteps seemed to split, each pair going off to cause their own path of destruction.

"Someone's banging on my door!" You gasped, tucking your knees up to your chest. "Oh, god. John they're gonna-"

A low groan of agony morphed into a cry of anger, splitting the air. Your fear muddled mind desperately tried to catch up. They were fighting each other. Why would the theives be fighting each other?

A soft knock on your bedroom door tore you from your spiral, gentle, but loud enough for you to hear it even where you were hiding in the closet.

Blinking, the sound of John's voice brought your attention back to your phone.

"What?"

"I'm here, luvie."

What?

"Open the door, sweetheart."

"But.. but I.. you don't.." Your mouth felt dry, the words stuck like sandpaper on your tongue.

"Open the door, sweetie. Let m'see you're safe." With wooden joints, you pushed yourself off the floor of your closet, walking robotically towards the door of your bedroom. The doorknob sat mockingly.

"What if they're still there? What if they-" He cut you off with a soft shushing noise. "You trust me, yeah?" You couldn't hear the crashing or banging anymore.

"..yes." You whispered.

"Open the door."

Shaking, your fingers met the cool metal of the doorknob. You hit the lock, and before you could swing the door the rest of the way open, John was pushing his way into your room. Walking by you, he starting scanning around all while you stood there dumbfounded. Tears still drying on your face, you watched in rapt confusion as he checked the closet you were just hiding in, moving to the window and pulling back the curtain to look outside.

"John?"

Oh, you poor, sweet girl.

He pushed urge to rip the heads off the men who Ghost and Soap were now tying up in your living to the back-burner, crossing the room in two long strides. He didn't wait to take you in his arms, pulling you flush to his chest and tucking your head under his chin.

John smelt of cigars, woody and strong, the tinge of gunpowder that seemed to linger on him caused you to wrinkle your nose. His arms were around you and he kept a hand on the back of your head, preventing you from looking anywhere but his broad chest and just like that you were crying again.

"Shh.." He cooed. "I know, I know, sweetheart."

God, he hated this. Just a week. All it took was just a week and getting your phone number for you to get caught up in the messy world of his work. There was no doubt in his mind that the men who'd attempted to ransack your apartment were part of the group Laswell had the 141 hunting for the last few months. The tattoos on their hands confirming his suspiscions.

But, he didn't give a fuck about work or unraveling how they'd got close enough to find you through a phone number he got on a stroke of luck. Letting out a heavy breath, he stroked the softness of your hair, almost to reassure himself that you were safe.

"M'gonna take you with me, yeah?" With bleary eyes you looked up at him, all sniffles and sugar and he was just about ready to go stop Ghost and have a chat with the men who'd-

"I'm still... I'm still in my pajamas." Your voice was airy, trembling, something that John had seen all too well in shocked civilans. "My clothes... my.. my.." You couldn't seem to think about anything aside from how you were wearing your pajamas, your mind forcefully ignoring the state of your apartment and everything that just happened.

"S'okay, sweet girl." Glancing down at the state of you, John felt a pang in his chest. You were wearing an old t-shirt and some sleep pants with little bunnies printed on them. "Let's get you out of here, yeah?"

Opening your mouth, you tried to respond, but all you could muster was a noise of agreement.

"Jus' look at me, yeah?" Steering you out of your bedroom, John kept your shaking frame tucked carefully into his size, holding your gaze with a hand on your cheek.

"Eyes on me."

He wouldn't let you see the state of your apartment, the glass and broken furniture littering the floor.

Wrapping his flannel around you, Price drew your attention with a poorly executed joke, keeping you from seeing the bloody and battered bodies Soap and Ghost were cleaning up.

As you got to the bottom of the stairs and outside, you passed by a man with a friendly looking smile and worn baseball cap.

"M'takin her. Call Kate and let 'er know 'bout the situation. She'll send you a car."

"Right, sir."

You didn't argue when he guided you into the passenger seat of a red truck, buckling you in and going over to the driver's seat himself. You didn't argue as he started the engine, pulling onto the road and taking you somewhere else. He kept a hand on your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing soothing circles onto your skin.

Through the thick haze of your tears, you found your voice.

"Hell of a first date, huh?"

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missadangel · 1 day ago

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The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Reader)

All Chapters List

Chapter 12: The First Kill (WARNING BLOOD AND VIOLENCE)

Sic Semper Tyrannis

"Thus always to tyrants."

Brutus.

"You never forget your first kill," Marcus once said. One evening, you were sitting together in that meadow just after finished your knife training. "I've had to kill many, dozens, thousands. Some I felt no remorse for, some I thought they deserved it, some I felt pity for, but their faces are blurred in my memory in time. However, I could never forget the face of the first one. Although I was young, I remember it clearly, even now. For some time the silhouette of his face continued to torment me, even preventing me from using my sword properly.”

He took a deep breath as his fingers ran through your golden hair. “It's a peculiar thing, hard to overcome, right then and there, when you take his life, everything changes; the ground you walk on, the air you breathe, all of it becomes your enemy.”

As you looked at your own hands which were stained with blood and trembling, his words reverberated in your mind. You glanced at the man you had just killed, lying still on the ground. He was right. Everything has changed, and it will never be the same again.

Two days ago…

The atmosphere on Palatine Hill was one of palpable tension as the city awaited for the new dawn. You were trying to figure out the best way to extricate yourself from this troubling situation when you were involuntarily brought here by the guards, at the behest of your Emperor half-brother. Walking from the great courtyard into the great hall, accompanied by Flavius and two guards, you noticed that several soldiers were being forced to their knees by the guards. It appeared as though they were awaiting something or someone. They were attired in black cloaks over their armour, and you were uncertain as to why they were regarding you with concern. Might they be Marcus's men? Could this be the reason why he did not return home? Could he have been here too? As these questions continued to arise in your mind, you headed for the large door and entered as the guards opened it for you.

Once you had entered the great hall, the man called Flavius took his leave, accompanied by a few of his men, for some reason. You were not particularly curious about where he went, because the moment you saw Caracalla's face, your tension level spiked. You never thought that one day you would be judged by him in this hall. Caracalla stood in the centre, in his usual place, with Macrinus right next to him. What a surprise! You could imagine the strings he had woven around your brother, effectively turning him into a puppet. Geta and his mother Julia were on the left side of the hall. On the floor was the body of a slave, lifeless and bleeding, felt a chill run through you. You averted your gaze. As soon as he saw you, Geta uttered a silent curse and looked at his brother with a look of anger. “Really, brother? I told you, Aurelia has nothing to do with this!”

Caracalla stared at you, ignoring his brother. You swallowed when you realised he was holding the vial you had sent for Geta. He held it up as if he wanted you to see it. His face showed signs of fatigue and redness, which you knew could cause this kind of effect.

You were trying to stay calm. But your eyes kept drifting to the body of the poor slave on the floor. Caracalla noticed. “Oh, forgive us for starting without you.” He laughed like a madman.

“I have to tell you that you are making a mistake, brother,” you said calmly. You were hoping he hadn't noticed the quaver in your voice. “The things you accuse me of. None of that is true.” You turned your head to Julia, who was looking at you as she always did, defiant and angry.

“Lady Domna asked me to poison you, as she well knows. And I refused."

“Or are you going to tell me our brother Geta's lies too?” Caracalla snapped.

"Not lies, you fool, I'm telling the truth!" Geta shouted. He then inhaled. "Our mother is responsible for this. I can assure you that neither I nor Aurelia attempted to poison you."

Julia looked at her son, her eyes wide in surprise.

"What about this then?" Caracalla indicated the vial in his hand. "Last week, I had this dream that you were trying to kill me, and you were all involved." He pointed his index finger at each of you in turn. Macrinus stood silently beside him, weighing up the situation.

"As I said, my mother found a poison that will kill you slowly, which is why you killed this slave just now!"

Caracalla looked down at the dead slave on the floor. "That's right," he muttered. "I did." Then he grinned.

He looked like he was really lost, which made you almost feel pity for him. Geta approached him, seemingly used to this situation. "I asked Aurelia for help, for you, brother."

"Hah! So you admit that you plotted together to kill me!”

Geta sighed. “No you silly! You know that Aurelia is a medicus, so she found out what poisoned you and made a concoction that will cure you.”

“Lies, lies, lies! You're always lying to me!” He shouted at him, then pursed his lips. Geta rolled his eyes.

That's when you heard some muttering coming from outside. You figured it must be the soldiers. Before you had a chance to react, someone called out 'General', the great door opened, and Marcus walked in. You weren't sure which was more shocking. Seeing Marcus there like that, Flavius gripping his arm like he was a criminal, the bruises and blood on his face, or the fact that he was only in his burgundy tunic? Your chest tightened and your breath caught in your throat. It was as if someone was squeezing it.

“Marcus!” you cried out. Your ringing voice filled every space in the great hall.

Without a second thought, you strode towards him. You grasped his face in your hands and gazed at his bruises with concern.

"Aurelia, tell me you're alright." He asked, also concerned.

"I am. But you? What happened to your face?" You touched the edge of his eyebrow where the blood oozing from. You couldn't hold back the tears.

"There's no need to be concerned, my lady."

"General!" Caracalla said loudly. "Or should I just call you Marcus now? After all, you don't deserve the title."

"How do you mean?" you asked him, taking Marcus’ hand in yours.

"You are mad indeed, brother." Geta muttered. “General has nothing to do with this.”

“Shut the hell up! Enough with your lies!” Caracalla wagged a finger at him. Then he turned to you and Marcus.

"A husband and wife have decided to commit a crime together. That's quite romantic.” He gave a little sarcastic clap.

“What are you accusing him of?” you asked, a little sharply. “He's a general who's loyal to you. The person you should be accusing is right there with you!” You said, pointing at Macrinus.

“Aurelia,” Marcus warned, squeezing your hand.

Macrinus smirked smugly. "May I enquire as to the evidence on which you have based your conclusion, my lady?"

Caracalla butted in. "You're not in a position to accuse anyone." I'm the one who decides everyone's fate here.’ He turned to his mother. "I will commence with Lady Domna. Or should I say ‘Mother'?" he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Then he went to the slave lying lifeless on the floor, bent down and examined him as if he was seeing him for the first time. "You disobeyed me. As if that wasn't enough, you tried to poison me using this rat." He stood up and asked the guard next to him for his sword. Once he had it in his hand, he looked at its shiny surface as if he were talking to it. Julia tensed up. "I can't send you back there without knowing what you'll do. I'm sure you'll be back though. So you'll be charged under the Roman law.”

“Brother!” Geta protested.

"I must protest! I'm the Empress, I can't be judged! I am your mother!" Julia yelled.

"That's why you are still breathing!" Caracalla barked. "You committed treason! I could kill you right now, but I won't! So, try to be greatful and don't speak another word!"

"It's a fair judgement, Your Majesty," Macrinus stated, pleased. You were certain that it was his opinion. After all, he had the majority of the Senate.

"Take Lady Domna to her room and keep her there until the trial," he ordered the guards.

The guards forcibly took her by the arm and led her out, despite her protests and shouting.

"As for you," he said, pointing at you and Geta.

"It would be best to simply let Aurelia go. I'm the one who asked her for help," he said, stepping between you and Caracalla.

Caracalla laughed. "How touching! What have you done to my brother, Aurelia?" His eyes shifted to you. Marcus clenched his jaw. The atmosphere in the hall was getting tense. "Well, here's the thing; she's the one who made this concoction, after all."

"It's not poison, on the contrary, it's a herbal remedy that will heal you." You explained.

Caracalla approached you and handed you the vial, pointing the sword he held in his other hand at you. "Prove it, then. Drink."

Marcus became visibly tense. Geta turned his head towards you. You swallowed hard. There was no harm in drinking the concoction you had made, you wouldn't have been afraid to drink it, only if you hadn't been carrying a child. "I can not," you suddenly said, closing your eyes and bowing your head.

Caracalla laughed hysterically. You exchanged a look with Marcus, you knew he understood why.

Geta turned to you, leaned in, “Aurelia, what are you-“

"I can't because I'm with child." You said. "The mixture could harm the child."

Everyone looked at you, and there was a brief period of silence. "How can I be sure you're not lying to me?" Caracalla asked.

Geta shifted his gaze to your belly, then turned to Caracalla and snatched the vial from his hand. "Give me the damn thing," he said and uncorked the bottle and drank the whole thing without thinking.

Everyone was looking at him in surprise. He threw the vial on the floor and looked Caracalla in the eye, who stared back at him with his mouth open. Geta licked his lips, spread his arms wide. "Look at me, brother! I am still alive, aren't I?" He smirked.

Caracalla looked at him, then at you, narrowing his eyes. This time he pointed his sword at Geta. "You two, you must be playing tricks on me."

"That's nonsense!" Geta yelled. Caracalla shook his head as if he had heard something. "No, a lie is always a lie. I refuse to believe it." The sword slipped and fell to the floor as he covered his ears with his hands. He stepped back. Macrinus approached him and whispered something in his ear.

"I think that's all we need for now. As you can see, Aurelia is completely innocent." Geta said.

"No way!" Caracalla spoke up. "She'll be staying here until this is resolved." He and Macrinus exchanged glances. He then looked at you. "I've decided that she needs to stay under home detention here at Domus Severiana."

"I must protest!" you said, loudly. Marcus gave you a little tap on the shoulder to calm you down.

“My decision is final!” He yelled at you then turned to Geta. “So, you, I'll have you tried for high treason, and I'll have you deposed from the title of emperor."

“You can't do that!” Geta interjected.

“Just watch me!” He gave him a stern look.

Geta clenched his fists.

"As for you, Acacius," Caracalla said, pointing his finger at Marcus this time. "There won't be a trial for you. I've got other plans. "In fact, I should have you beheaded or thrown off the Tarpeian rock.”

(Tarpeian rock: A steep cliff on the south side of the Capitoline Hill that was used in Ancient Rome as a site of execution. Murderers, traitors, perjurors, and larcenous slaves, if convicted by the quaestores parricidii, were flung from the cliff to their deaths.)

"For what offence?" Your body was shaking.

"Treason of course!" He shouted.

Macrinus intervened. "Your Majesty, your people respect or General Acacius and they have made great hero out of him. It would be unwise to have him executed. You might draw the public's ire to yourself. Angering them will only work against you."

"How do you mean? Should I let him walk free, Macrinus?" Caracalla shouted at him angrily.

Macrinus looked at Marcus. "No, of course not. I just want to say that there are other ways that the public will be satisfied with. And you of course, Your Majesty."

"And what are those ways, I wonder?”

You were getting nervous as he spoke, what was he planning?

“Games,” he said. “We could set up some fighting games, and Acacius could fight in the Colosseum to win his freedom.”

“No way!” You let out a cry of protest.

"Why do you object, or you do not trust your husband's fighting strength?" Caracalla enquired with a hint of irony. "It is a good decision, Macrinus I liked it."

You looked at Marcus. But he was staring at Caracalla. "What about my men? I demand their release, Your Majesty. They have nothing to do with my treachery." Marcus said the word treachery through clenched teeth.

"I deny it, Acacius! They are as guilty as you are, and they will take their share of your punishment and fight along with you in the Colosseum!"

"Your Majesty, I suggest that you reconsider this!" Marcus said loudly.

"Shut up!" Caracalla approached him. "That dusty ground of the Colosseum will become your grave, you will lose your reputation, your name will be forgotten! I will burn your villa to the ground with your slaves inside! And your wife Aurelia..." He eyed you up and down. "She will be confined for the rest of her life! Do you hear me?"

He gestured to Flavius, who grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from Marcus.

"Don't you dare to touch her!" Marcus lunged towards him but the guards grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back hard.

"Marcus!" You reached for him, but Flavius was holding your arm tightly.

"Take your hands off the Princess now!" Geta shouted too, but Flavius ignored him.

“My name may be forgotten, but your name will be remembered with hatred for generations to come!” Marcus roared. “You will face the hatred of your people! Your reign will come to an end!”

“Get him out of my sight!” Caracalla shouted. “Throw him in one of the pits in the Colosseum with all his men!”

"No, please! Brother please!" You begged. Tears welled up in your eyes.

He didn't care.

“MARCUS!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as the guards dragged him out. Flavius then released you, but couldn't feel your legs and collapsed. Geta crouched, put his arm around your shoulder, you rested your head on his chest, sobbing, crying.

“Lock them in their rooms, I want two men at every door!” You weren't looking at Caracalla, but you knew he was talking about you and Geta.

First day of the games.

The Colosseum was host to a game that was somewhat unique today. The announcement of the accusation and sentence of General Marcus Acacius had been made public, and many people had gathered here in the early hours. It would be fair to say that the vast majority viewed this man as a hero. The loud shouts of the crowd mingled with the sound of drums and trumpets. For the first time, Marcus was not pleased to hear his name shouted by the crowd, despite being aware of their admiration. The reason was straightforward: his wife Aurelia was absent from the Imperial stand. They had taken her away from him. Caracalla and Geta were seated in their customary positions. It appeared that Caracalla wished to keep his brother, who had committed treason, close by.

However, Geta, like Marcus, was even less enthusiastic about being there for the first time. As Marcus and his soldiers saluted them before the fight commenced, Geta and he locked eyes. If only I could hear him at this distance, he thought. I wish he would tell me something about Aurelia. Then Geta nodded at him as if he could read something his mind. ‘She's alright,’ he mimicked with his lips. And that was it! That was enough for Marcus to feel strong and defeat everyone and everything in the arena. On top of that, he had his most trusted men with him this time, his soldiers. They'd fought side by side on the battlefield, and they were ready to do the same here.

"Octavius!" Marcus called out. He gave him a heads-up about the barbarian warrior coming up behind him. Octavius dodged the attack and, led by Marcus, they all took up an attacking position, targeting one barbarian warrior and quickly overcoming them. There were just two barbarians left. Marcus signaled to his soldiers to stay back and calmly took a step forward, challenging the remaining barbarians with his outstretched arm. They both charged towards him with their swords but missed. Marcus expertly dodged their attacks and cut them with his sharp sword. The crowd went wild. Geta laughed and applauded. For the first time, Caracalla responded to his laughter by cursing angrily. Marcus, with his sword bathed in a crimson red, made his way towards the barbarian, who was lying on the ground, apparently nearing the end of his life. He then looked at Caracalla.

Caracalla turned his thumb down. Marcus killed the barbarian with a swift move. As the crowd chanted Marcus' name, Caracalla sulked and sank into his seat. "Ugh! Too fast and too boring! Well, fortunately, this is a three-day game and we're only on day one."

"How exciting!" Geta teased.

Caracalla frowned and turned his head towards Macrinus who was already approaching. "Have your new gladiators arrived, Macrinus?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. They are preparing for tomorrow's game." He said, smiling at him.

"That's good. I hope tomorrow will bring the defeat of Acacius and his men." He looked at them with a hint of displeasure. Then he stood up. "Come, brother. It's time to leave."

Marcus was keeping an eye on them from a distance, his gaze shifting to Flavius, who was following behind them. He clenched his fists as he watched them until they were out of sight. He made a vow to himself. He was going to win these games, no matter what. He had to win the Emperor's approval to be free. Then he could leave here and get you to safety. After that, he could take care of Flavius and Macrinus. Even if he never became a general again, that would not matter to him. He did not believe that Caracalla would reinstate him, anyway. That night, staying in the same pit with the gladiators but in separate cells, he was thinking about all this and you.

You spent the entire day in a state of mental and emotional distress, seeking solace through prayer. You were rather concerned about Marcus, eager to receive any news from him. However, the guards at the door of your room would never let you out. You hated this room. Never expected to feel this way about it, nor to return here in this way. While you watched the birds singing cheerfully outside the window, you felt a longing to be free like them. You were also concerned about those in the villa and you prayed for them too. However, Marcus was on your mind constantly. Nothing made sense without him. You were feeling lost, incomplete. In the evening there was a knock at the door. Geta's slave had brought dinner. The girl noticed that the food on the morning tray had not been touched. She looked at you with a concerned and sad expression.

"My lady, please try to eat a little."

"I do not feel hungry," you murmured.

She glanced at the guards and then looked back at you. "If you could do it for your child." The girl was a little too insistent in her tone. You turned to her. She gave you a nod with her head. She indicated the plate on the tray with a gesture. You noticed a piece of paper under the plate. Had someone wrote you a note? You looked at the guards. They were standing at the door and wouldn't let it close when the slave girl was inside. You had to come up with an excuse. "Alright then. I'll eat, but first you help me get dressed. I need to change my dress." you said loudly looking at the guards. "Close the door, I need to get dressed."

The guards nodded and obeyed. You immediately took the paper from the tray.

"Emperor Geta wrote to you," she said quietly.

"Or perhaps it is about Marcus?" you asked, opening the little paper.

"I am not quite sure, my lady. He's in a similar situation to you, confined in a way. I couldn't even speak to him properly." You could sense the sadness in her voice, you touched her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Do not you worry. I'm sure everything will be alright and we'll be released soon." You felt like you also convincing yourself desperately.

The girl replied with a smile.

You turned your gaze to the paper to read what Geta had written.

"My dear sister. I hope you're doing well. I'm really concerned about you, so it would be great if you send me a response. What do you think of this solution huh? You must think I'm pretty smart, you do not? Come now, be honest." -Even so, he still managed to make you smile- "Anyway, Acacius and his men fought well today. You should have seen Caracalla's face when they won the game. It looked like a little monkey's butt. Whatever. Acacius, he's fine, don't you worry about him. If he wins the next two games, he'll be free. And I'm quite sure he will. Oh, and you never told me you were carrying a child, which I'm still upset about. Well, take care of yourself and the child, and eat your food. I'm waiting for your secret response letter. We'll be free soon, I promise. Kisses.”

Sighing, you crumpled up the paper and put it in the wooden box, closing it up. Fortunately, he had some good news. You felt a little relieved. You then looked around your room for some paper and a pen. The girl whispered to you. "Here, my lady," she said, pulling out the ink, reed pen and paper she had tucked into her belt.

"You are really well prepared," you said, smiling at her. She giggled. You sat down and the girl helped you to write a reply for Geta.

"Brother, I'm alright, please don't worry. I must say, this solution is really clever and I am very grateful for it. Many thanks for the good news about him. I hope we'll all be free soon. I know you won't get anywhere near Marcus, but if you get a chance, I'd appreciate it if you'd tell him I love him. Please look after yourself around Caracalla. I await your letter about tomorrow."

You handed the paper to the girl. She tucked it into her belt to deliver it to Geta.

Day two of the Games.

The atmosphere in the Colosseum today was somewhat different from that of yesterday. It seemed that the crowd flocking to this giant structure was more enthusiastic today.

Marcus and his soldiers were going over their plan of fight while sharpening their swords. A tougher fight awaited them today. The gladiators were well trained, but unlike them, this was their first time in the Colosseum. Before long, the drums started beating and they were announced.

“Honos et Virtus! (Honor and virtue!) For freedom!” They shouted together, tapping each other on the shoulder. With swords drawn, they made their way to the arena, accompanied by the sound of drums and the enthusiastic cheering of the crowd. It was pretty unlikely that they could pull off a fight like this on such short notice. But since Caracalla had declared them criminals, he'd ordered that there should be no interruption, one day after another. No matter how strong or experienced they were, it wasn't something an ordinary soldier could take easily. However, losing wasn't an option for Marcus. He encouraged them accordingly and spurred them on. Before start, and saluting emperor, Geta and Marcus shared a look that was just like yesterday. Marcus smiled in response to Geta's positive gestures.

“Oh, this is so ridiculous,” Geta muttered. “I feel like I'm flirting with a girl.”

“What was that? What did you say?” Caracalla leaned in towards him.

“Nothing, just thinking out loud.”

“And you call me mad.”

“But you are,” Geta said. “You're treating me like a caged animal. Locking me when I've done nothing wrong.”

"Be glad I didn't kill you," said Caracalla arrogantly. "Since I've tried it before and I can do it again."

"What did you say?" Geta looked at him with wide eyes.

Caracalla laughed. "If Aurelia hadn't saved you that night, you'd be with the Gods now. You would be dead."

Geta preferred to look at him in astonishment rather than watch the game. Of course, he had thought about it, but he could not digest his cold-blooded confession. At that moment he realised that everything was in vain. That he still saw him as his brother, that he respected him a little. To go to Aurelia for him. Suddenly he found himself feeling guilty. Tasting these new feelings, he set himself a goal: to kill him. No matter what, today or tomorrow. He had to die.

While Geta was planning to kill Caracalla somehow, Marcus and his soldiers kept up the fight against the gladiators. Despite the gladiators outnumbering them, they were able to prevail over them by watching each other's backs and acting in a spirit of brotherhood. Caracalla gave a thumbs up, decided that the remaining gladiators be to live. That came as a surprise to everyone. Macrinus seemed really pleased, and Geta noticed. They all had some injuries, including Marcus himself, but they weren't too severe. Marcus had a small scratch on his cheek. Octavius had a cut on his calf, and the others had cuts on their arms and legs. They were also pretty tired. They were in need of a rest, but they knew that Emperor Caracalla wouldn't let them. That night, as Marcus examined his brothers' wounds, he was filled with concern for the following day. It was possible that Caracalla and Macrinus had something big in store for the final day.

It was just after midnight when the sound of the iron gates opening was carried away on the breeze that had picked up the dust from the stone walls. Marcus and the others were soon aware that Cato and a soldier were approaching, and they rose to their feet immediately.

"Cato! It's Cato, sir!" Octavius said in a cheerful manner.

Marcus grasped the iron bars. "Cato? What are you doing here?"

Cato looked sad. "Sir, I am very truly saddened by all this."

"Cease weeping now, Cato," Octavius chastised him.

"Have you heard anything from the villa?"

Cato shook his head slowly. Octavius was growing impatient and reached his arm through the iron bars and grabbed his collar. “Speak!"

Marcus touched his shoulder as a warning. Cato took a deep breath. "Sir, when I went to the villa, I found that it had unfortunately been plundered, the soldiers you had positioned there had been murdered.”

Marcus slammed his palm against the iron bars in frustration.

“What about the others? The slaves?” Octavius asked.

"I'm not sure, but none of them were there."

"They must have been detained." Marcus hissed. "Along with all my property, everything I have."

Octavius kicked the bars angrily.

“I was watching Palatine Hill, the Domus Severiana,” Cato said. Marcus looked at him. Cato continued. “Lady Aurelia, I couldn't see her, but I'm certain that she's there.”

"She's under home detention," Marcus said his voice cracked. "Keep watching there. I need to find out how often Flavius and his guards go there and what they do. I need you to keep an eye on things for me until I get out of here. Can you do that?"

He nodded. "Yes, sir!"

The soldier who'd been keeping an eye on the corridor during the conversation came over to them. "Sir, General, I need to get Cato out of here before the guards at the gate realise."

Marcus nodded. "I am indebted to you." He said, and the soldier nodded in respect. Then he turned to Cato. "Cato, be cautious. Whatever you do, don't let Flavius notice you.”

"Yes, sir. I'll pray for you to win tomorrow," he said, looking at each of them. He threw his arms up. "Hodie Ruditapes Leo!' (Today the lion roars!)"

"Hodie Ruditapes Leo!' (Today the lion roars!)" They all repeated, their smiles confident and assured.

As you read Geta's note that evening, you noticed a difference in his writing style compared to the previous day. It seemed more serious. You were curious as to why and felt a little frustrated that you were not allowed to talk to him freely. Yet, you were really grateful to him for coming up with this solution. It was like he'd given you a breath of air when you felt like you were stuck in this room. Fortunately, there was more good news. Marcus and his soldiers had won. The only thing left to do was get through tomorrow. If Marcus were to emerge victorious from the games tomorrow, it would mean that Caracalla would no longer have the authority to detain him. So maybe you could be freed and return to the villa together before the trial. You had to find out what happened there and see if everyone was well. In accordance with the law, everything you have to be confiscated, including your slaves. It might even be the case that they could have been sold to other people. The mere thought of that made your chest hurt. However, this is not a possibility at such short notice, and certainly not before a decision has been made by the court.

Sitting on the large bed, illuminated by the moonlight that filtered through the long window, you read the short note that Geta had sent you, thinking of him as you traced your thumb over the word 'Marcus'.

You sensed that he was thinking of you too. Actually you were certain. You implored Jupiter, as you rubbed your belly with a hand over it. "Please, my lord. I beseech you. I pray that you spare him to me, to our child. Be his constant companion and his strength in fight, refuge in every adversity. Guide him, my lord, that he may return to me safely."

Day three of the Games.

Present day.

"Remember, we have to win no matter what. If we lose, we will not only lose our lives, but our families, their future and reputation."

They nodded, but their eyes betrayed their doubts. Some of them were exhausted and deeply wounded. Marcus knew that if one lost, they all would. He had to give them what they needed: strength and courage.

“Brothers, do you remember those words I spoke to you two years ago on the Libyan front?”

They looked at each other and nodded in aggrement. He went over to the soldier who was struggling the most and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I mentioned a dark place inside us, a place that can give you strength even when you feel you have none left. You're injured and you're feeling drained. It was just like that day. We were outnumbered that day and it looked like we were going to lose. I don't think any other army would have been able to win with such a small number of people. But we managed to beat the odds and find a way to win. We'll do the same today." He went over to another soldier and looked at him. He had a wound on his arm. "Now I want you to discover that dark place inside you. He turned to another soldier. "Felix. I see you're badly wounded in the leg. Does it hurt?"

The soldier looked at his leg. "Yes, sir."

"Do you feel that place? Do you hear that voice screaming at you that you're going to lose?"

He lowered his head. "Yes, sir.”

"Do you think you can run from here to the gate? Or will it make the wound in your leg worse?"

He looked at him uncertainly. "It could be a lot worse, sir."

"That's not the answer I'm seeking, Felix!" he shouted at him. “When you get to the arena, you'll need to run and be quick. The warriors trying to kill you there will jump on you to finish you off as soon as they realise that you're scared.” He gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Our mind rules our body and it rules this dark place! It cannot direct the body of one who is afraid! Because he is doomed to lose. When you die over there, you will only lose your life. Your family however, will lose their citizenship and be known as the family of a traitor. Your friends will lose a brother. I will lose a good soldier! Now, tell me, will you confront that dark place, face your fears, fight along with us to win?" Marcus looked into his eyes. Felix inhaled and nodded firmly. “I will, sir!”

Marcus smiled. "Good. I trust that you will. From now on, it doesn't matter what you like or don't like, what you're upset about, what you think you've been wronged, your fears, your anxieties, nothing matters." Marcus raised his index finger. "Only one thing matters: Survival. Now tell me. Will you fight by my side and survive? Are you with me?"

The soldiers looked at each other and nodded, and then they all drew their swords and raised them.

"We're with you, sir!"

"Yes sir!"

They all shouted in unison with enthusiasm. Marcus raised his sword. “Nec spe nec metu! (Neither hope nor fear!)”

The soldiers repeated it back to him. The sound of their voices echoed off the stone walls. A little later, the sound everyone was waiting for was heard! The iron gates opened with a loud noise as their names were announced. The sound of drums, pipes, the voices of the crowd, whistles and applause filled the air. Everyone was brimming with excitement as they sat in their seats at the Colosseum, eager for the final game day. Geta and Caracalla were sitting in their usual seats. Macrinus came up to emperor and whispered something in his ear. Geta tried to focus on what he was saying, but the noise made it difficult to hear.

"Today will be the end of Acacius." Caracalla said to Geta, in an excited tone.

"You speak too precisely, brother. They've only just begun!

“This is the end! There's no doubt about it." He snapped. "His end. He is going to die today.” His hands were shaking. Geta squinted at his hands then his face. “I will get rid of him no matter what.”

At that moment, Geta became aware that something was being planned. He was fairly certain that Macrinus and Flavius were involved. But what could it be? He considered the option of killing his brother at that moment. However, he was unable to give orders to the guards. He knew his own end was near. Just after Marcus. Maybe even yours. Caracalla was completely lost. He has to be the one to die today, but how? Geta thought.

Marcus and his men were in fine spirits as they engaged in combat with the gladiators who had previously fought and whose lives Caracalla had graciously spared. However, before long, two hatches opened on the ground of the arena, and a loud roar was heard as two tigers suddenly appeared. Caracalla was visibly amused and expressed his approval with a hearty laugh and a clap of his hands. The crowd expressed their delight with enthusiastic shouts.

“Where did these tigers come from?” Geta was rather puzzled.

"Didn't you like my surprise?'"

"I thought we'd run out of wild animals?" Geta grunted.

"And I thought we could make do with these until the rhino was brought in. They were only brought in last week. Macrinus went to great lengths to get them from Libya."

Geta squinted at him. "I am sure he did.”

Marcus got his men together and gave them a few strategies. After all, none of them had ever fought tigers, so they tried to stay calm. The gladiators had a similar plan of action. The two groups were ready to attack each other, using the tigers as a dangerous tool. The gladiators advanced towards them with shields and spears. Marcus and his soldiers numbered six. Gladiators were four. However, one of the gladiators was so enormous that he could easily be counted as two men. Marcus had given his men another tactic about him: attack his leg first, so they could finish him off as soon as he fell to the ground. That was it. A moment later, Octavius lunged at his leg with his sword. And managed to cut deeply. Before long, the other soldier did the same, and the big man collapsed on the ground. But not before he'd punched them in the stomach and face. During the attack, Marcus lost one soldier, leaving him with five remaining. The battle was so intense that it was difficult to catch your breath. Everyone was exhausted and trying to outwit the enemy while dodging the claws and teeth of the tigers, which was harder than ever. After one intense battle, Marcus and his soldiers were down to four. As he saw the exhaustion on their faces, Marcus felt the first stirrings of fear. But he persevered and fought on. He managed to cut down one of the gladiators and one of the tigers.

The crowd went wild with excitement. His success gave the remaining soldiers the encouragement they needed to keep fighting with everything they had. And soon the cries of victory were heard in the arena. The gladiators were all defeated by the glorious Roman soldiers and their General. The crowd cheered his name with delight. They gave each other a big hug and saluted the crowd.

And, It all happened so quickly.

"Now!" Caracalla shouted angrily. Geta turned his head towards Flavius, who raised his arm and looked at something, then lowered it as he gave an order to someone in the crowd. Out of the blue, Marcus was hit in the arm by a bolt from nowhere. If Octavius hadn't been a bit closer, it would probably have gone through his throat. Marcus let out a cry of pain. The crowd fell silent. Geta got to his feet. Caracalla looked at him, his hands clasped in delight. He laughed wildly. The soldiers called out to their general. Then they quickly looked in the direction of the bolt. It was someone planted in the audience. It was against the rules. It was completely unacceptable. Caracalla was determined to see Marcus dead, so he came up with this plan.

However, he was soon disappointed to see that Marcus had broken the bolt and pulled it out of his arm. He was seething with rage. The soldiers picked up shields from the ground and formed a protective circle around their general. The crowd caught the attacker with the crossbow and beat him up. Caracalla got really angry and swore as he saw his plan fail. Geta looked at him and laughed cruelly.

Caracalla looked at him angrily and stood up. The crowd was chanting Marcus's name.

“I think that’s enough. Now It's time to set him free, brother. He has well earned it.”

He was aware of it. He looked at Flavius and the other guards and, with some reluctance, gave the order to open the great iron gate. Octavius, who was holding Marcus's arm, looked at him with concern.

"Sir, it looks like you've got a bit of a rough injury."

"No need to worry about my wound, brother. We survived. We won! That's all that matters." He smiled.

The soldiers looked at him. 'We won, sir!' Marcus gave them a tap on the shoulder, one by one. "I'm proud of you all."

Before long, the iron gate opened and Caracalla entered the arena as his name was announced. Geta was right behind him. Marcus' smile faded. He considered grabbing the pugio from the ground, as this could be his only opportunity to kill him. However, if things did not go as planned, it could have unfortunate consequences. Besides, he had to think about his soldiers as well. At his command, they all dropped their swords and bowed their heads.

“Acacius, you really are a hard man to kill. You put me in a dilemma.”

He also noticed the pugio on the ground, covered in blood and dust. If he could get to it, he might be able to kill his brother right there and then. But he shouldn't let on. He glanced over at Marcus. He could see right through what he was up to. He looked at the guards, who numbered eight. Could he take them down? No, he'd have to be declared free first. He decided to wait.

Geta bent down and picked up the pugio.

“Would you like one of the tiger's teeth, brother?” he said, looking at Caracalla, trying hard to hide his intentions.

Caracalla gave a shrug and seemed confused. “Alright, but first I must announce the verdict the people are waiting for.”

Marcus and Geta exchanged glances. And the decision has been made.

Caracalla cleared his throat and announced his decision in a voice the crowd could hear. “Marcus Acacius! By the authority of Roman law, I declare you free!”

The crowd cheered and whistled. They began to chant Caracalla's name. Caracalla held up his hand and signalled for them to be silent.

"But you're not a Roman general anymore. You're not even serving in the military anymore. You'll be exiled. You'll lose all your authority and you'll have to live outside Rome for the rest of your life."

The crowd suddenly fell silent, and after a few murmurs, people started to protest.

“General! General! General! General! General! General!”

“Silence! You filthy rats! How dare you? I shall kill all of you!” Caracalla yelled at them.

It all happened so fast. Geta threw the pugio at Marcus while Caracalla looking at the crowd. He skilfully grasped the pugio and slashed Caracalla's throat with a move faster than the wind. Nobody even noticed for the first few minutes because it happened so fast. As soon as blood spurted from the cut on Caracalla's throat, he instinctively pressed his hands as if to make the wound stop bleeding.

His sapphire-coloured fancy toga, his golden necklace, all soaked with his own blood flowing between fingers through. He fell to the dusty ground as he collapsed lifelessly to his knees. His blood was leaking slowly, pooling around his lifeless body. Geta took the pugio from Marcus' hand and looked the guards in the eye, who had taken up their attacking positions.

"The tyrant emperor is dead! I am the only emperor! As a tyrant, his rules are null and void!"

This was indisputably the case. The rules of the emperor, who had been legally declared a tyrant with the approval of the Senate, were therefore legally invalid. Geta had planned well, and the people were happy about it. After all, they were now shouting his name. Even when the blood continued to flow from his brother's lifeless body. Now he has to convince the council next. Marcus and his soldiers bowed their heads to him. The guards too. Then Marcus's eyes shift to the imperial tribune, he tensed up when he couldn't see Flavius or Macrinus there.

"Your Majesty, I need to know if your sister, my wife Aurelia, is still at Palatine Hill."

“Yes,” Geta said, also looking at the tribune. He turned his head to Marcus, his eyes wide. “That cunt Macrinus and his filthy dog Flavius.” He hissed.

Marcus looked at his soldiers. “Octavius, you are with me. The others will remain with Emperor Geta to ensure his safety and protection."

Geta tapped Marcus on the shoulder. "Acacius, there is no need for concern about my safety now. Go and ensure my sister is safe."

Marcus nodded nervously. Quickly, he and Octavius made their way towards the iron gate to leave the Colosseum.

Macrinus strode purposefully down the steps of the Colosseum, determined to catch up with Flavius. He looked around and saw that people on the streets were talking about Caracalla's death with great enthusiasm.

“Sir Flavius! Where do you think you're going?” Macrinus shouted at him.

They were both furious. "Tell your men to move now! We need to act fast while he's still in there."

Flavius grabbed his horse's reins. "I don't care about Emperor Geta! You told me Acacius would die there today!"

“Your man couldn't shoot him, so that's not my fault! Now is the time to take down Geta as we planned. We must finish him before he is officially proclaimed. Then, when I ascend the throne, I will finish Acacius myself, just as I promised you.”

"Your perfect plan didn't do shit!" He barked.

"I made you Prateon Prefect! I gave you power!" Macrinus shouted.

Flavius shook his head. "I don't give a damn about your throne or the power you gave me! You promised you'd finish Acacius, but you couldn't. Our deal is off. "I'll finish him myself!" He leapt onto his horse. Macrinus was enraged.

"What the hell are you talking about? Where are you going?”

"I was wrong to go along with your stupid plan. I am going to do what I should have done all along. I'll take away what's most precious to him. Then he'll learn what loss means."

Macrinus was taken aback when he realised what he was talking about. 'No! You cannot!' "I need Princess Aurelia. Don't you dare touch her!"

"I will have my revenge with or without you!" He yelled, kicked his horse forward.

Macrinus called a few of the guards to his side and ordered them to follow him.

It was the afternoon, you were resting in bed, nervously awaiting, hoping for good news. Then there was a noise, a clinking of swords, and you heard the guards at the door hurrying away. The sound of their metal armour echoed with every footstep. You approached the door to see what was happening. As soon as you opened the door, you saw Geta's slave rushing to your side.

"My lady. You must leave immediately. Come with me." She grasped your hand and pulled you with her.

"What's going on?"

She put her finger to her lips. "We have to be quiet. I'll tell you."

As soon as you stepped into the courtyard, she pulled you towards the corner and guided you to hide behind the wall. You peeked out and noticed Flavius.

“They're looking for you.” She whispered.

Before you could ask anything the girl tugged you by the hand again. The other slaves noticed, rushing towards you.

"This way, my lady."

"Why are they looking for me? Or has something happened to Marcus?”

"I am not sure, my lady. The Commander of the Guard has just killed three of his men. They attempted to prevent him from entering. I heard them talking about you. You must leave before he notices you."

Your heart was beating fast. Your throat felt dry. As you approached the entrance door, you saw three of the guards were lying on the floor covered in blood.

"My Lady!” A familiar voice called out to you.

You looked in that direction and saw Cato, who was waiting for you outside the entrance door, holding the reins of a horse. You looked around for Marcus, but he was not there.

“Stop right there!”

You gasped when you heard Flavius's loud voice.

"My Lady, get on the horse now!" Cato drew his sword, staring at Flavius as he ran towards you.

"Cato, I-" Your voice cracked.

"You are the one he wants! Just go!"

You nodded, tears in your eyes, and quickly climbed onto the horse, kicking it forward.

When you looked back, you saw Cato taking up a defensive position, you turned your head. You tried to hold back your tears and gripped the horse's reins tighter. You had no idea where you were supposed to go. But it seemed a bad idea to head into the city and the streets, after all he was the commander of the guards and they were everywhere. So you rode on a road that led straight out of city center. You turned your head and looked back again. It didn't look like anyone was coming after you, but you had to be sure. After a while you heard drums and an announcement: “Be aware! Emperor Caracalla is dead! He is dead! He is dead!” You slowed your horse down.

How? When? You asked yourself in shock. And what about Marcus? Why isn't anyone talking about him?

People were looking at you with curiosity as you were a little bewildered and trying to figure out what to do. Before you knew it, you heard the sound of a horse's neigh coming behind you and people screamed. You looked back and saw Flavius on his horse, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. As you pulled the reins in a hurry, your bracelet caught on the fabric of your dress and slipped off your wrist, falling to the ground, causing a tinkling sound. The bracelet was precious to you, but you had to keep going. You just couldn't let him catch you.

You decided to ride the horse into the woods, with the intention of disappearing from view. As Flavius followed you, he saw Cato catching up with him. He drew his sword, turned his horse around and struck Cato with the sword. Cato fell to the ground, screaming in pain. The sword had hit his armour, so he wasn't dead, but he was frustrated. The distance between you and him had grown, and you were feeling pretty tired, so you decided to get off your horse and go through the trees to get to the other side of the city and the Colosseum. But it was a long way to walk. As soon as you heard Flavius' horse, you started running. He saw your silhouette and grinned.

"So you want to play tag, eh, princess?" He dismounted. "You should be aware of that, though. It's my favourite game." He drew his sword, following the tracks you left.

It was really hard to move through the forest without making a sound, especially with the long stola you were wearing. You kept tripping over thorns and bushes as you walked. As he was good at tracking, Flavius was following you calmly, smiling at every crunching noise you made.He crouched down to observe a trail on the ground. "If you surrender now, I promise I won't hurt you.” He grinned cruelly.

You were shaking with fear and trying to calm yourself down. You grabbed the fabric of your stola, pulled it up and tucked it into the belt around your waist, exposing your ankles but at least allowing you to move forward without making a sound. You soon came across a large, thick clump of bushes right next to a puddle. A tree root had created a small cave-like hollow in the soil. You decided to take shelter there because you were really tired. You took your knife out, picked it up, remain still, waiting in silence.

Upon arriving at Palatine Hill, Marcus was met with a gruesome scene: the guards and slaves lying lifeless on the ground. He was too late. Then he saw the slave girl running towards him. She was wounded, but managed to inform them and showed them the direction you were headed. Without a moment's hesitation, Marcus and Octavius mounted their horses and rode off in that direction.

"They must have gone out of the city. I think we should go that way," Octavius said.

"I will head there! We must split-up! You ride down the city, in case of the unexpected!" Marcus pointed down the street.

"Yes, sir!" Octavius rode his horse down the road.

Marcus was just about to kick his horse into a trot when he noticed some children playing with a gold bracelet. It looked familiar. He jumped off his horse, approached them and grabbed it. He knew this bracelet well, because he was the one who gave it to you.

"Where did you get this, child?" he asked one of them.

The child pointed ahead and Marcus rub child's head, then quickly got back on his horse and rode in that direction.

“Princess? Where are you hiding? You know I'll find you eventually. And when I do…”

That sick bastard, you thought. You were glad he didn't sound close. You decided that going the other way would be a better idea. Waiting here was pointless. It made you feel like you were caught in a trap. Just as you were about to stand up, you heard a hissing sound and your eyes widened in shock as you saw a snake ahead. You covered your mouth with your hand to stop yourself screaming. You jumped back. You had to kill the snake before Flavius saw you. You knew he would see you if you stood up. You held your knife tight, aiming at the snake. You missed on your first try but stabbed it the second time. You felt sick, both from the blood flowing from the snake and from this overwhelming feeling of fear.

With your survival instinct, an idea came to your mind. The snake was a viper, which is known to be highly poisonous. Even though it was dead, there was still venom in its fangs. You knew how to get the venom since you'd already produced antivenom many times before, but it was too dangerous with bare hands. You tore the fabric from the hem of your dress, wrapped it around your hand and pressed the dead snake's head to open its mouth and extract the venom from its fangs. The venom was leaking out in a bright yellowish colour. You held your breath and applied the venom to the surface of your knife. You weren't sure how, but you had to cut Flavius somewhere on his body with this knife.

"Found you!"

You froze. His voice was right behind you. Just as you were about to run forward, he grabbed you by the hair and yanked hard. You let out a cry of pain. He yanked your hair harder, turning you to face him.

"I told you to surrender, princess." He grinned.

You lunged at his exposed arm with your knife. He wasn't expecting you to have a knife, so he was caught off guard and you managed to cut him. Flavius let out a cry of pain, and when he released your hair, you took the opportunity to step back. He realised it wasn't just a normal cut when he started rubbing it with his hand. The poison had mixed with his blood and caused him terrible pain as it spread through his veins. He groaned loudly and then looked at you angrily.

“You whore!” He grabbed you by the arm and hit you hard in the face. You stumbled backward and fell. You crawled away from him with all your strength. “I said I wouldn't hurt you, but I changed my mind.”

He grabbed your hair again, yanked, turned you around, so he was right on top of you. His weight made it difficult for you to breathe. "I'm really going to hurt you. A lot." Flavius was running his pugio over your face. You felt the sharp edge of the knife against your skin as you fought against him.

A horse neighed loudly in the distance and you both looked in that direction. He uttered a curse and raised his pugio to stab you. Then, you heard footsteps running towards you and a familiar angry roar, then Marcus appeared and jumped on Flavius, pushing his body off you. They rolled on the grass. After his weight lifted off of you, you took a deep breath and looked at them. They were locked in a fierce struggle, punching each other with groans.

Marcus drew his pugio and stabbed him in the leg, then punched him in the face. He quickly got on top of him and started hitting him in the face again and again. Flavius was struggling to breathe, but he managed to hit the wound on his arm. Marcus groaned in pain. He seized the opportunity to kick him. This time Marcus was on the ground. You were shaking, but you had to think fast. As soon as you realised your knife was on the ground, you ran to it. You snatched it and forced yourself to remember the attack moves Marcus had taught you before. You lunged, aiming for Flavius' neck, who was punching Marcus in the face. Marcus hit Flavius with his elbow and realised you were approaching.

“Aurelia!” he shouted, holding out his hand as if to stop you.

Flavius had his pugio in his hand and could have cut you down in an instant. But you were the first to act. As soon as he turned his head towards you, you stabbed him in the throat with your knife. His eyes widened in surprise as blood gushed from the open cut in his throat onto your face, your clothes and your hands. He reached for the knife, grasping it as if he intended to pull it out. But he was wheezing and choking on his own blood as he tried to breathe. You stared at him, your eyes wide with shock. Marcus's voice sounded muffled to your ears. He shook you by the shoulders, but you were completely numb and paralysed. As Flavius' lifeless body collapsed to the ground, you looked at your hands. They were red and wet. Your gaze fell upon Flavius' body again. The blood flowing out of his throat was slow, the effect of the poison, you thought.

Marcus took your face in his hands. Seeing the faint smile on his face, feeling his touch on your skin, your body came back to life.

“Aurelia my love? Are you alright? Speak please, say anything.” He sounded concerned.

“M. Marcus, I... I killed him.” You mumbled.

Marcus wrapped his arms tightly around you.

“Shhh, I know.” He whispered. His hands ran through your hair which was smeared with blood in some places. He rubbed your head and kissed over and over, exhaling with relief. Then he looked at you once more, his eyes holding yours in a gaze that was both intense and unwavering. "It's over, my love. You are safe now." He wiped the blood from your face with his fingers. He kissed your temple and touched his forehead to yours. You stayed like that for a while. Then you heard horses neighing in the distance.

“Sir!”

Octavius and Cato leapt off their horses and ran to you.

"Are you alright, my lady? Sir?" Octavius asked. His eyes then travelled over Flavius' body.

“We are now,” Marcus answered for you.

Octavius moved towards Flavius' body and spat a curse at him.

"Cato, give me a hand," Marcus said, and he helped you to your feet, but your legs were shaking. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you into his arms. Cato held the horse's reins to keep it still. He approached the horse and carefully helped you on. Then he climbed on and settled behind you. He pulled you against his chest and grasped the horse's reins. "Hang in there, my love," he said firmly. Accompanied by Octavius and Cato, he rode slowly toward Palatine Hill.

thank you for reading! your reblogs, comments, likes are soo important to me so please if you enjoyed, support me thank you..

@myownwholewildworld @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @immyowndefender @lailathepedritofan @screechingchildfury @shinymusicpanda @somedayheaven @ivoryandflame @negrita2345 @music-lover09 @javiismyhsbnd @idontcareihavenoidea @jisungandpedrolover @mmkkzz @ro-nahime-things @indiegirlunited @kluvspedro @movievillainess721 @berriesarepunk @bonadeamo @heramj @blushingwueen

if anyone wants me to tag them please comment or msg me :)

#fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal gifs #pedro pascal #ao3 fanfic #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius #general acacius #gladiator ii #marcus acacius x reader #gladiator ll #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius smut

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yanderefarm · 2 days ago

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tell emil you're bored of him and see what he does lol

alternatively, sneak out of the castle in the dead of night and never return

ON THAT THOUGHT, what would he do if you sleepwalk??? like maybe where you walk to reflects what you want to do but cant, for example sometimes it's to the library because you didnt get to read for like a week

i imagine emil would follow you a bit to see where you go to determine what he should do next day

and then one day it's just you trying to exit the castle, he finally open the door to see and you just walk further and further with no sign of stopping

he would panic so hard lol

i think if you were a really bad sleepwalker who kept trying to leave him he would tie you to the bed tbh. like you're not allowed to leave that's silly.

cw;; violence, yandere tendencies, gore, violence towards reader

pathetic emil step aside we have full yandere mode emil.

"im bored."

"im sorry what was that?"

"im bored. you're boring me."

emil lifted his head from his book and smiled at you a closed practiced smile.

"let me finish this page and i can find something to entertain you."

"no. i mean this is boring. us. you never let me leave, you only care about sex, and i don't have anyone to talk to."

emil's lips twitched.

"im sorry you feel-"

"i want to leave."

he put down his book completely and stared at you intensely. it was a gaze usually preserved for people he wanted dead.

"you don't mean that."

"yes i do."

you got up from the garden chair quickly followed by emil standing up.

"we can go somewhere else. we could go on a vacation. I'll hire you some approved friends."

"no. I've been thinking about this for a while. I'm telling you I'm leaving."

emil's hand came down on the table hard.

"no."

you could see his bright pink eyes darken as his face went blank. you weren't usually scared of your husband but you always knew you had reason to be. right now you certainly were. you tried to bolt for the entrance of the gazebo but all emil had to do was grab your arm with his inhuman strength and you couldn't move.

"emil it hurts..." you tried to whine pathetically but it didn't even reach his ears.

emil kicked you hard on the leg and you stumbled forward almost falling on the ground if not for him holding your arm up.

"i think you've had too much freedom. ive been too nice. i need to fix that."

"no- no- emil i was just joking! it was a joke!"

he looked truly intimidating, not even his signature sadistic smile on his terrifying features.

"you need to remember who loves you."

with his hand still holding your arm he stepped on your leg. you screamed in pain as he pulled your arm as leverage until your leg gave a sickening snap. but that wasn't enough as tears and pain overwhelmed your vision you felt him smash the broken bone with his foot. again. again. aga-

you lost consciousness due to the shock.

when you woke up you were in your shared bedroom but not on the large comfortable bed, instead you were laying on a dog bed with the most horrible pain in your leg while the other was chained to... a cage usually meant for monsters.

#replies #yandere oc #sub yandere #yandere x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere king

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drewsarms · 22 hours ago

Text

𓍼 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི more dark/icky!rafe bc you guys seems to loveeee him. Heavily inspired by these two post!! post 1 post 2

warnings: I would like to say I do not condone abuse or domestic violence. do NOT try to clock me. This is all fantasy. You have been warned. This is very…sinister maybe disturbing for some so proceed and read with caution. mentions of ownership, branding, slapping, spitting, tear licking, corruption, manipulation, very slight mentions of blood, 18+ mdni!!

If you sat and thought about the situation that you were in now it may seem troubling. You found yourself always asking how you’d end up with Rafe. With his actions. The people from The Cut and Figure 8 asks the same things to themselves and among their peers. You were such a sweet girl (still are). Always helping out when needed. Always being at arms reach for anyone despite what the situation was but now…now it was different. Instead of being there for everyone else it was always Rafe. Rafe was always in the picture. The cold hard stares you’d recieve from people did bother you to an extent but then again you were happy. If the word happy could ever describe it. Being up under Rafe and always at his service was something you loved, something that you’d never thought would bring you so much joy.

Fortunate was the word to describe it. To describe your connection with Rafe. Many girls would have loved to be in your place, right? The busted lip. The bruising. The branding from his ring. The burn mark from his bike when you tried to leave him. The accusations of your mind slipping to places it shouldn’t have been. Does he really love me? Why is he doing this? Is this wrong? But to you, the markings made up for it. The markings were your answer. I mean, why would he put markings that people could see, that people would know who you belonged to if he didn’t truly love you?

You found yourself stumbling in the bathroom, almost teary eyed from how hard Rafe pulled your hair when you asked him a question. “Can I go cover these bruises up? People are staring.” That was all you asked. You didn’t think it would cause such a commotion. As you rubbed your bruises, remembering what happened the last time, you overheard girls whispering as you stared at yourself in the mirror fixing your makeup. Do you think she lets him do that to her? She was such a sweet girl before. You would’ve never thought something like that would happen to her. How could she stay with a man who beats her?

“Beats me?” You thought. No. It wasn’t “beating” it couldn’t have been. It was love. At least that’s what he told you when you’d cry for him to stop. That’s what you believed. You believed any and everything that came out of Rafe’s mouth.

Wiping away your tears, trying your best to seem like you handled the situation you found Rafe amongst his friends. Your grabbed gently at his bicep. “Can we please leave. There’s something I need to talk about.” That was it. That was the last thing you remembered to come out of your mouth coherently as Rafe dragged you out of the truck and into his room.

Marks covered your entire body as you laid on the bed. A faint taste of blood swirling in your mouth, mixed with Rafe’s spit that he watched trickle down your throat, as you looked up at him in fear. “How many fucking times have I told you not to ask me questions like that?” A harsh slap coming down against your cheek and then your swollen pussy. You whined, trying so hard to conceal your cries. You didn’t want him to think he was hurting you. You didn’t want him to know how bad this was affecting you. You wanted to be his good little girl and crying because you were in pain wasn’t going to show that. “I’m so-sorry daddy. I promise it won’t happen again!” Rafe’s mind was somewhere else as he positioned three fingers against your sopping hole. “You said that the last time didn’t you bun?” Rafe pushed three fingers inside you of you, releasing a stringed cry from your lips.

You were already a mess. Bruises forming on your skin from his fist and spit dripping off your face as Rafe rubbed it in, ruining your makeup more than your tears ever could. You pressed your legs together hoping he’d go easy. But that was the thing. Rafe never went easy. Especially when he was like this. He absolutely loved doing this to you, more than he’d like to admit and secretly you loved it too.“Open those legs or I’m gonna make it worse for you.” How much worse could this possibly get? How much farther could he take this? That was a question to an answer didn’t want to feel, you didn’t want to find out. Rafe added another finger as he watched you stretch out around him. He reached up and pinched your nipples. Your mind was completely blank at this point. The only feeling you had was the fuzziness coming from your stomach down to your feet and the harsh lingering feeling of his slaps all across your body. “This will fucking teach you, won’t it?” Rafe started to slide his fingers in and out of you faster making you soak his sheets. The feeling of regret and somewhat wavered thoughts ran across the frontal lobe of your brain. What was left of it anyway.

Was this luck? Was this what you considered to be fortunate? Your tears welled up in your eyes, coming down like hurricane rain. You began to hiccup and sniffle as you reached out for Rafe, hoping to feel that sense of comfort that always made you realize that he loved you, that this is what you wanted. Rafe cups your face as he stares blankly at your witless expression, eyes widened and brows raised. “Aw bunny. Are those tears? It feels good doesn’t it?” Rafe slowly licks your tears while moaning against your face. If you were in your right mind you’d tell him no, it didn’t feel good, but as corrupted as you were it felt like a high you couldn’t, didn’t, want to come down from. You shook your head earning another harsh slap, this time right against your mouth, making you bleed more promptly. “Answer me.” An elated screech came from your swollen lips as he pumped faster now adding a fourth finger. “Y-yes daddy! Please don’t stop!” And he wasn’t. Not until you were a shaking, panting, whining, pleading, eye rolling mess for him. Not until you realized that what he was doing to you, what he’d say to you, was the right thing. After all, Rafe was doing this because he loved you and those kisses to your forehead while he whispered how good you were for him proved it.

The love for him was unbearable. This is what love was. This was Rafe’s way of showing just how much you meant to him. How could you have ever questioned him?

Taglist 🏷️: @nemesyaaa @starkeysprincess @starkeyslove @venic-bxtch @archiveofvirtue @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafesangelita @fae-of-prey @bunnyrafe @wearemadeofstardust0 @starkeysbebe @shellxrls @erwinsvow

#dolly notes ໒ྀི #rafe cameron #rafe cameron concepts #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #dark!rafe #icky!rafe

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jweekgoji · 1 day ago

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Hello! Your writing is amazing! Can I request a yandere Sentinel Prime with a femme reader who has an overprotective Sire? Her sire does not care about who Sentinel is and clearly does not like him and it pisses Sentinel off. Take your time!

Yandere!Sentinel Prime/Femme!Reader with an overprotective sire [hcs]

tw: yandere behavior, mentions of manipulation, jealousy, very brief violence, possesiveness. word count: ~890 a/n: for some reason, I can see Ultra Magnus being this father figure, hehe. thank you for request, Anon~ smoooooch

Your sire doesn't like Sentinel? Well, that certainly wasn't in the plans for him. He expects everyone to treat him like a royalty and look up at him, so when someone treats him differently, it kinda catches off guard.

I don't think yandere!Sentinel will go into his 'killing mode' the moment he sees an obstacle, mainly because he's sure he can take care of that in a classy way.

Sentinel is definitely that guy who really wants to make a good first impression on your sire. He might act like a really confident mech in front of you, but for some reason, he is a little nervous about the thoughts of meeting your sire.

In his mind, it really goes quickly from «oh come on, why would her father dislike me? Everyone loves me!» to «oh Primus. what if he hates me?» and that's how it repeats 24/7. Eventually, the confident Sentinel wins, but he takes a lot of time to prepare for any possible scenario. Everything should be perfect, every single smallest detail is personally checked by him, so nothing goes past.

Imagine Sentinel's expression when your sire harshly brushes it off with a «You're not good enough for my daughter and I don't want you around her. End. Of. Story» and just SLAMS the door shut into his face the moment the other bot sees him. Basically, that's where everything goes wrong. Oh, his poor ego.

Yandere Sentinel especially hates when something goes wrong and not according to his plan. He's a perfectionist, and if he spots any imperfections, it's a total disaster for him! His mood quickly changes from sweet and kind to annoyed and impulsive, so it's better to stay away from him for a good few minutes until he takes a deep breath and goes like «this is fine...everything is fine! :)» with his optic twitching and a small frown on his faceplate, which is easily noticed through his smile.

Yandere!Sentinel gets paranoid with the thought that your sire will start putting the wrong thoughts in your processor, talking trash about him behind his back, so eventually you will start to question your love for Sentinel as well. So, he decides to step in and turn the tables, planting the seeds of distrust about your parental figure. Does your father really care that much for you? Nothing is wrong with being a little protective over your own little spark, but you're no sparkling, you should build your own life!

He does it carefully, using tiny, innocent and careful remarks whenever you two are alone after another disastrous meeting with your sire.

«If your sire really wants what is best for you, why he takes your chances of happiness?»

Until he practically struck you with a head-on, «You always tell me that you love me. So you should choose. Me or him.»

Sentinel is selfish. A small part of him understands how ridiculous it is, to feel jealousy just because your mentor is present in your life. But when you start having more of those father-and-daughter times together, when your attention goes more to your sire rather than him, all rationality in his processor just disappears.

He spends half the day trying to call for you. He wants to know where the frag you are and WHY you don't pick up his calls immediately, since he needs you right here and now. As his partner, you're obligated to always be there for him, and being ignored by you...the audacity!

Sentinel walks in circles in his office, and the silence is bothering him to the insanity. One moment, he will start crying his spark out to her about it.

“After everything I have done to her..! Can you imagine that?” he looks at Airachnid for validation, his voice full of frustration. “I swear, if she calls back, I'm going to tell her everything I think of her, that—”

But the moment he sees your name popping up on the screen, he is conflicted. On the one hand, he wants to pick up immediately, on the other hand, he doesn't want to seem desperate. So he waits a few seconds until he finally decides.

Airachnid gives him almost a disappointed look as she sees her boss using that sweet voice when he talks to you. Suddenly, Sentinel is not that angry anymore, and if anything, he's relieved to finally see and hear your precious voice. He almost forgets about what he said a moment ago until you hit him with «oh, sorry Sentinel, I was with my sire all day. I can't visit you today. See you tomorrow!».

He almost snaps the device in his servo by the end of the call.

Eventually, Sentinel gets exhausted from all of it. He really tried, despite the constant disrespect from your sire. He has no remorse when he finally asks Airachnid to deal with the obstacle in his way of getting you, covering the story as an incident. The death of your sire would shatter you, but don't worry, you will heal soon enough with him by your side.

#yandere x reader #yandere sentinel prime x reader #sentinel prime x reader #yandere transformers x reader #yandere transformers #transformers x reader #transformers one x reader #tw yandere

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tinfoil-jones · 2 days ago

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Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 5

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.5

“Hey, stretch. You here to play doctor?”

“I’d just like to interview you. I’m not going to touch you if that's what you’re concerned about.”

“Why not?”

“...ANYhow, I have a few questions for you.”

“Yes, I'm single.”

“Not those kinds of questions. Can you tell me your full first name?”

“Can you give me yours first?”

“Fiddleford.”

“Stan.”

“Okay, Stan. Where are you from? And don’t you dare say from my dreams.”

“Well yeah, I’d say ‘from your dreams’, not mine. Other than that, probably some gutters or a ditch somewhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as I remember, I’ve been out on the streets, or in prison. I think I had a car at some point? But I dunno what happened with that, it makes my head burn trying to think about it.”

“Do you have any family?”

“No.”

“Do you remember ever having a family?”

“I don’t remember having one, but I feel like I had one before.”

“What do you feel like happened to them?”

“They probably got tired of my BS and told me to take a hike. It’s how it always goes with me.”

“That’s a theory you’ve put together. I’m asking what you feel like happened.”

“Feel like I had a dad who was waiting for an excuse to get rid of me. I feel like I had a mom who was a liar - I probably got it from her. Maybe a sibling or two? But they don’t want me around.”

“And what do you think about Stanford?”

“You mean the guy who drugged me, kidnapped me, and is keeping me prisoner in his evil basement sub-lab in the middle of the woods? I gotta say, he makes an impression.”

“But does he seem familiar to you?”

“I don’t think I could forget someone like him”

“Is it because of his six fingers?”

“It’s twelve , and no, that's pretty normal compared to all of his other weird crap. It’s because he’s fucking crazy , and convinced I’m some mystery twin of his. But let’s stop talking about him, and talk about you instead. Are you single? You doing anything later?”

“Stay on track, Stan. Let’s take a step back and go back to talking about you. Have you recently gotten into any accidents or sustained major injuries?”

“Define ‘major’.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Judging by your friend's reaction to the stab wounds when we met, I don’t think your definition of major injury is the same as mine.”

---

"What did you determine, Fiddleford?"

"It wasn't easy to glean things because he would not stop flirting with me - was he always this way?"

"He was a little girl-crazy when we were younger, I didn't know he liked men. But that doesn’t matter right now, what were your findings?"

"He has full cognitive function. And based on your scans he has no signs of brain damage - comparing images of his brain to yours, his genetically identical twin, there isn't any morphological difference. Based on my interview, it sounds like he's never sustained significant head trauma neither.”

"But..?"

"If he really does have amnesia, it wasn't caused by a head injury."

"What else could it be?"

"A few things - perhaps he took a drug or substance that warped his brain chemistry. Or- more likely in my opinion, based on his lifestyle and what little history he tells me, he might have undergone extreme distress that caused a mental breakdown."

"Mental trauma can cause someone to lose their memories?"

"Our memories can be a shield and a sword, Stanford. Even good memories that can comfort you through a difficult time, can also cause pain and frustration when compared to a bad predicament.

He must have gone through something so traumatic that the only way his mind could cope with the stress was to... forget things. This is a phenomenon known as repression . Most of the time, a person would repress the traumatic event itself, but it looks like he’s defied the statistics and forgotten everything else instead.”

“He can’t be… that traumatized, right? This is Stanley we’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what he was like before, but he’s got a mullet, Stanford. There ain’t no way he's in a good place mentally.”

"And how would repressing memories about our family- about me , possibly help him cope with trauma?"

"If I'm going to be frank with you, this is the first time in the years that I've known you that you even mentioned having a twin brother . You've talked about other family members before, such as your older brother Sherman, but never him.

If his mind had to prioritize which memories to keep, why would it keep memories of someone he isn't close to?"

"We are- well, we were close."

"Were is a strong word, Stanford. Survival focuses on the present, not the past.”

“... What can we do to get his memories back?”

“I’m not a therapist. But perhaps if you can get him out of the survival mindset, he’d be open to some introspection.”

“So we must disable his fight-flight-freeze response…”

“Stanford Pines, I will throw that damn tranquilizer gun down the bottomless pit if you don’t put it down. Ya'll really need to stop using the slippery slope of science without consideration for morality like it's a damn seesaw. There are other ways to get him out of fight-flight.”

“Such as?”

“I would suggest you make him feel like he’s in a safe space, but that might not work.”

“Why not? He’s perfectly safe here.”

“But does he know that? From his perspective, you’re a stranger who shot him with a tranq dart and imprisoned in your basement for scientific exploitation. And I’ll remind you, this is all without his consent. He is here against his will.”

“It’s for his own good.”

“According to you, someone he thinks he doesn’t know. This may be your twin, Stanford, but he doesn’t know that. You need to gain his trust; maybe he would have trusted you by default in the past, but that isn’t the case now.”

“I… I’m not sure how to do that, Fiddleford. At one point, we knew everything about each other. And now I barely know him, and he thinks I’m a stranger. I’m still angry at him, and still bitter about what he did before he left home, and I’m disappointed in the conman and convict he turned into… but I’m sad, because he's convinced he’s not my brother.”

“You ain’t exactly the same person you were even when we first met all them years ago. People change. How about you try talking to him?”

“Just talking to him?”

“This may be difficult for you in particular, but you should try talking to him like he’s a person; and not a science experiment, anomaly, or an equation you’re trying to solve… Hey, hey don’t be looking like the last pea at pea-time now. I believe in you, you got this.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford.”

*Ford goes back downstairs to the lab. Fiddleford waits for him to be out of earshot before speaking*

“Bless his heart. This is going to be a disaster.”

To be continued…

#he did it guys he said the title #yes thats a passive aggressive bless your heart #stan asking fiddleford is hes doing anything later like hes not stuck in a cell #fords evil basement sub-lab #early amnesia au #for your own good #stanley pines #stan pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #stanford pines #ford pines #fanfiction #cross posted on ao3 #fiddlestan #fanfic #mullet stan

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starlight-archer · 21 hours ago

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i’d really appreciate a hurt/comfort payneland fic with cuddling on the couch or possibly a fic where they fuck with election ballots bc they’re ghosts and get kamala elected instead 😭 it’s been something i’ve been thinking of since before the results were out and i just think it’s be silly. thanks in advance for considering!

Here it is! Charles and Edwin enlist some American ghosts to fuck with the ballots and then cuddle! I hope you enjoy and that this lifts your spirits a bit!!

"Phew!" Charles tumbled back through the mirror, panting, Edwin not too far behind him, hands clinging to the sides of his jacket from behind. "That was a bit close for comfort, wasn't it?"

They had almost been caught, but had managed to slip away before things could get hairy. They had also made sure that their actions couldn't be tracked back to them.

"Charles, that might be the most egregious understatement that I have ever heard from you." Edwin didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Honestly, he was still shaken from the whole experience. They didn't often pay heed to foreign politics, let alone the politics of the living, but this had been necessary. There had been no way that either if them could sit still when they had caught wind of what was about to happen.

Sitting through Brexit and the Tory reign in England had been bad enough, goodness knows things were still pretty cocked up even without them in power (big messes to clear up and all that). But, sitting through a second Trump presidency when the only reason for it was some miserable concoction of sexism, racism, queerphobia, and thousands of people just refusing to vote?

Unconscionable.

Sure, what they had done was definitely illegal (oh it was so, so illegal), and probably questionable on some level, but it was clear as day that the pros of such a venture far, far outweighed the cons. If anything, this absolutely counted as a good deed.

Even if it did break some pretty strict rules about the dead tampering with the affairs of the living.

They would simply have to be on their best behaviour from now on.

It would be fine.

And what had they done exactly?

They had mirror hopped over to the US and simply enlisted some willing participants to fill in all of the blank ballots with votes. By the time they were done, it was just enough to tip the scales in a less devastatingly horrifying direction.

It was for the American citizens that would be thrust into suffering because of that awful man and his depraved followers, it was for the minorities from various walks of life who would face the potential of having to fear for their lives, due to the inciting of violence by emboldened right-wing extremists. For the people who were hated unduly, just for daring to exist.

And it was daring. It was an act of bravery and courage that deserved respect.

Both Charles and Edwin had lived through times where being different could get you killed. Existing had been illegal, frowned upon, hidden behind closed doors, punished with torture masquerading as therapy, shunned, and erased from the history books.

Never again.

Never like that.

Why did history always have the nastiest habit of repeating itself? Over and over and over again. Maybe hell was empty.

But they had done it, done what they had impulsively set out to to and they had succeeded. It was almost surreal.

And, perhaps most importantly, they hadn't done it alone.

They had gone to each state one by one and contacted as many ghosts as they could, gathering all those who had been unable to vote, who had their voices stolen from them, and for each ballot that was left blank, the ghost of an American citizen fought for the people they had been forced to leave behind.

A great deal of them had even moved on afterwards.

"Come on, mate. It's alright, it's over." Charles' warm voice cut through the noise in Edwin's mind. "Come and sit."

Charles put his hands over Edwin's (which were still situated at his waist, balled up in the fabric of his jacket). Gently, he eased his grip and moved to link their fingers together as he faced his best friend.

Immediately, a large amount of the tension drained from Edwin's body. It was as though a weight that had previously been crushing him, had life away from his shoulders in an instant. It had been a lot, but it was done and it was going to be okay.

He allowed Charles to lead him over to their little sofa by the wall. It was a familiar position, sitting side by side, hands joined in an act of mutual comfort and reassurance.

Neither of them said anything for a long while. They didn't really need to.

Charles leaned back against the sofa and wrapped an arm around Edwin, pulling him closer until his head was resting on Charles' shoulder. He didn't hesitate to run his fingers through Edwin's soft, dark hair.

He revelled for a moment, in his ability to express such affection. It was something so simple and yet, until they had left Port Townsend, it had been shut behind this unspoken boundary that neither of them had dared to cross.

They did a lot of things now that they hadn't dared to before, and far more things that they had already done, but that had the context rearranged.

It was kind of magical; being together in this new way. It almost felt like something that had been fated, something foretold, painted in the stars and woven into the fabric of every reality.

And yet, it felt so normal, so simple. It was like they were created to be a matched set, despite being from different eras in time. Like salt and pepper shakers, or a pair of shoes. Sure, maybe you could have one without the other but it was always preferable to have both.

Charles was prompted to recall the time when Crystal had compared them to one of her Internet jokes: "bonded pair, do not separate." or "items frequently bought together".

Despite falling easily into the romantic side of their developing relationship, it still surprised him a little bit when Edwin shifted to wrap his arms around him. If only he could go back and tell his past self that things could truly be this good, this sweet, this wonderful.

Charles used to question his goodness, used to fear becoming like the people who hurt him. But, with Edwin next to him, he couldn't find any shadow of fear or doubt left in his heart.

#dead boy detectives #save dead boy detectives #Payneland #edwin payne #charles rowland #Ghostly ballot tampering #Dbda #Fic requests

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siolixz · 1 day ago

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⋆｡°✩ Of Love and Loyalty⋆｡°✩

One-Shot

+18

Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader

Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She and Oz have a difficult relationship- he clearly likes her and she is conflicted in her feelings towards him (Eve doesn't have a sexual relationship with Oz in this). While I am between chapters, I decided to write this. Life has been so busy lately- so I apologize. Everyone in this story is 18+ and consenting. I've listened to Lana while writing this sooooo

Enjoy and give feedback If you want :)

Warnings: mentions of violence, smut , gunplay (¬‿¬)

After the death of your parents you were in a bad place, evidently. In a bad place, with the wrong type of people- stealing rims; trying to get by and scraping for food every day, life was miserable in Crown Point and it seemed like there was no way out.

Not until he found you; shots firing by your head- he cornered you in the street- with a gun in your face.

“P-please, please do-don’t.” all the words your stupid mouth could pronounce, he looked at you and he decided you were going to live- for the time being.

This man, he was like a force of nature- so different, so strange. He was the most terrifying person you ever met in your life, from the way he carried himself to the way he dressed- you knew he was a mobster. Someone that the boys on the block, the ones that thought they were ‘tough’ and bullied people like you- people that needed help- could only ever dream of being like.

Only in small glimpses could you see the man that was underneath; he was lonely, that much you knew- he was a man who dreamed of being respected, of being feared and loved, by all- maybe by you too, by the way you would catch him staring at you, the way he touched you sometimes- on your shoulder, on your hips- one time he brushed the hair out of your face, small acts of domestic kindness gave you glimpses into his desires, his wants and needs.

“Where you from, kid?” He asked you about your life, he listened and he showed how kind he was, regarding your father and mother and your sister, for the first time since the traumatic event someone listened- everything, everything was taken from you.

He told you, “You have to be hard as nails, think on your feet.” He was right, people like you had to fight for the things they needed, the things they had to get in order to survive. He was like a mentor, you looked up to him, really- you did, but you were also scared, scared that one day you’re gonna do something wrong- say something wrong and he will put a bullet between your eyes before you know it. You couldn’t leave, if you did he was going to find you- the thought of that sent shivers down your spine.

As Robert told you about him leaving for California, you felt a rug being pulled from underneath you- he was the only thing tying you to your old life, the old you. The one who used to sneak into abandoned buildings with your friends; the one who ran home from school to meet up with him and your other friends to hang outside together- to enjoy life.

“Why-why would you do that? Your whole life is here” you asked him. You and Robert enjoyed each other’s company, he kissed you a few times but that was all, he wasn’t your boyfriend, though you cared for each other.

“Not anymore” he told you “Our families are dead…we gotta care for ourselves now. Look at you, living in this nice apartment- it’s crazy he lets you stay here.” He looked around, almost not believing HE was here, let alone you. You told him that you do some paperwork for this club owner and he lets you stay in one of his spare apartments as payment, a good enough lie, he didn’t probe further.

“Wh-when are you leaving?” you asked and as he told you that tomorrow night- you wanted to cry, beg him to stay.

“You could come with me” he grabbed your hands and leaned down to look at you “we could start over.”

You looked at him and nodded “Robert, I-i’m not sure he…he will let me leave.” You took a deep breath.

“Who? Your boss?” he asked.” Why would he care if you left? Does he-“ Robert took a pause, debating if he was going to ask you this or not “-does he ask for other things too?” You knew exactly what he was referring to.

“N-no, nothing like that. Robert... this guy, he’s not just like a-a club owner.” you looked him in the eyes, trying to find a way to break this to him “He-he’s like…like a gangster.”

Jack’s eyes went wide “Then you definitely shouldn’t work for this guy. You need to leave.” He’s right, you did need to leave.

How is he gonna know? He’s too busy with Sofia to care for the moment, too concentrated on the new drug- this could be a way out- to get out of this city- for good this time. Leave all the pain in Gotham, start a new life.

“The bus is leaving tomorrow night, 11pm, promise i’ll see you there?”

“Yes, promise.’ He gave you a quick kiss and left.

After he came back home, he told you every detail he could think about. He seemed excited, that’s good. He told you he’s gonna need you tomorrow, he had a meeting with the Triads, apparently he forged an alliance with Sofia. Good, good for him, you were happy. Way too happy to see HIM happy, he was your captor- you shouldn't be happy for him.

Too bad you’re not gonna stick around to find out how the deal ends.

While you were thinking of ways you could tell him about you disappearing while you waited in the Maserati- you were interrupted by a cop and you followed your ‘mentor’s’ words, “think on your feet”---he told you that evening that he was proud of you; as he smiled and grabbed your hand at the lunch you had to observe Luca’s wife at.

This ‘intimacy’ he placed on you, he was going further and further every day. You didn’t want this, did you? Your stomach did a flip whenever he touched you or looked at you, maybe you wanted to be loved too, protected.

Oz was also a charismatic man and pretty funny too, so what's not to like? Besides all the killing, he joked around with you and it seemed he enjoyed when you would give him a remark back, when you showed him you had it in you.

You were leaving tomorrow, when he was gonna be busy at the club- his club. As he was talking to Sofia, he instructed you to be the supplier to the hookers giving the people in the club ‘Bliss’ that’s how he called it.

His idea, you were sure. You had to be dressed the part, in a tight white dress so short you couldn’t bend over at all in, your breast barely covered by the material.

Between trying to calm your nerves and trying to ignore the way Oz was looking you up and down like a starving man looking at a 3 course meal, this night was going to be hard to get through.

But you already made a plan, when everyone was distracted, the girls with the customers and Oz with the Triads- you were going to escape. Out the back door and into the night- for a chance at a better life.

As the evening went on the girls were becoming more and more demanding, people loved ‘Bliss’ and they sure loved you, when you came by- with the product in your purse they cheered for you; they knew your name, some even hit on you- but that’s not important.

You had to “get your head in the game” like he would say, Oz, it felt so wrong to think like this but you felt bad, a part of you felt like you were gonna let him down- break his heart.

You weren’t ambitious like he taught you to be, you were a coward, afraid of a life like this, afraid of a life with him.

He was always so full of confidence, of pride- you wanted him to be proud of you too. Maybe he was going to be so happy he was gonna take the next step and kiss you, you didn’t want this, did you? This dangerous man, he killed people, he murdered them in cold blood and he liked it too.

He was also kind and funny and lonely, so lonely; you were lonely too, you could have a better life here in Gotham, as well- under his wing.

You checked your phone “Bus is leaving in one hr, u coming?” Robert texted you.

Yes, yes of course you were coming, you had to get to the staff bathroom- upstairs, so you could leave his cash there; change into your old clothes- jeans and a t-shirt- blend into the crowd and leave.

As Roxy called out your name and pulled you into the crowd, ‘to dance’ she yelled. You couldn’t look suspicious, play the part- play the part, you repeated in your head.

“You two look like a match.” She yelled in your ear and smirked at you.

“Wh-who?”

“You and the big boss” she grabbed your waist almost embracing you “Did you fuck him yet? Or are you saving yourself for marriage?” She giggled in your ear as she told you that.

“No.” You answered, clear as day. You saw the way they looked at you- back at Oz’s apartment, you just thought you looked different from them, they were all dressed so nice and you looked like you’ve been to hell and back, because you did- so that’s why they were whispering and giggling to themselves about.

You told Roxy you had to go, said your goodbyes and you left immediately after.

In the bathroom, you looked another time at your phone- “Bus is leaving in 30 min. Pls come.” Ok, you had to leav-

“Doll, we fucking did it! Triads are in.” The sound of the door being opened hard enough it almost fell off its hinges, made you immediately drop your phone near the sink ”Oh, it was sweet, you should’ve seen it. We gotta play it safe I mean I still got the Maronis on my ass.” he smiled at you, flashing his gold teeth and started to point his finger towards you.

“But you! Look at you, you fucking did it. I’m proud of you, so fucking proud of you!” He came closer to you and grabbed your face- cradling it, “I told Roxy to order some of that red wine you like- the good stuff, cmon!” He grabbed your upper arm and in the worst timing possible-your phone started ringing near the sink- you quickly turned around and closed it.

“Give it to me-” He’s going to kill you.

“Oz-”

“Now, GODDAMIT!” he yelled and you jumped. Your heart beating a thousand miles per hour, he couldn’t see what the texts were, he was going to go crazy. Now for sure, he was going to kill you. Great. You unlocked your phone and gave it to him, your knees felt like play doh.

As he blinked and looked down at your phone, you could see him scroll through the messages. He looked up at you and you could swear you could see him think about what he was gonna say to you. This man- who was never quiet-was reduced to silence, for the first time since you met him. God, this was a mistake, why did you want to leave, you didn’t want to leave him.

“We’re this fucking close and you wanna bail on me like that, for what? Some fucking guy who doesn’t care about you.” he said, brows furrowed. He didn’t know Robert, didn’t know if he cared about you or not, yet he is pretty sure he doesn’t- maybe he cares more than him. “With my fucking money, huh?” he asked, after looking at your purse and you.

“N-no, I swear, it’s not-not about that.” You pleaded, hopefully he was gonna listen, please listen, you thought.

“What did you have huh? Before I found you? Nothing.” He was right, you did have nothing “I gave you food, shelter, a job and I’m still not good enough for you-”

“Oz, n-no this isn't about that.” you pleaded.

“It sure as shit looks like it. You think you’re too good for this life. You wanna go? Whadya waitin’ for?” he moved his much larger body out of the way, so you could have a clear path towards the door “Fucking go.” He looked almost sad- desperate in a way.

“I-i can’t.” You couldn’t leave, he was going to kill you; he told you that- multiple times.

“The fuck, you think I’m holding you hostage or something? Like you’re my prisoner” Yes, you are. Maybe you liked it, maybe this whole ‘im gonna escape' thing was all a bluff, you wanted a life like this, it excited you, it made your heart race- like he did.

He moved his hand beneath his jacket and before you knew it- he pointed his gun at you.

“Oz-oz, hey-“ you started

“What did you have, huh? Before I found you?” He slowly started to move towards you, gun shoved near your face. “Fucking nothing. You were nothing. I would kill for you- I gave you so much of what I had, you have all the opportunity in the fucking world.” He came close enough you could smell his cologne and smell the whiskey on his breath “But this” he pressed the gun next to your head “this is all you feel!” His voice was breaking.

“N-no-“ you tried to find the words to change his demeanor. You almost started to cry, your heart fell to your ass and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now

“This is all you feel, huh? Being with me?” He looked into your eyes, his own brown eyes were being illuminated by the bathroom you were in, almost reddish- showing the anger and disappointment he probably felt- you let him down.

“What else did you tell him, huh?” He asked, once he removed the gun from your temple, as he trailed it down your body, from your neck to your belly. “That I’m in the mob... that I kill people, that you helped hide a fucking dead body?”

He was so close to you, the way he pressed you against the wall- reminding you of the first time you met him. “That I wanna fuck you?” He whispered.

His question made your ears and cheeks flush with blood and your heartbeat start pounding even more- if that was even possible. His gun trailed even lower and you thought he stopped pointing it at you, until you felt the cold barrel of it on your leg- goosebumps appeared on your skin, he trailed it up and up until it gripped your tight dress from underneath.

His pupils were blown wide and his breath was getting heavier. “Truth is, you always had a choice.” He moved the gun even higher and with the help of his hand your thongs were on full display in front of him, your dress on your waist.

He moved his gun to the front of your panties, pressing against your pubic bone- you didn't want to look down and stare at the shameful display.

“And you choose to stay.” As he moved the gun near the part of the thong that was covering your clit and moved it down there, you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and you looked down, partially because this was so shameful and partly because you didn’t want him to see how turned on you were.

As you opened your eyes when you looked down- you saw his boner in his pants and the gun he had pointed towards you and the way he held it- like he actually was going to shoot you.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” You whispered, hoping this would be enough. Maybe you could move on- you didn’t mean it.

“Look at me.” you reluctantly raised your head “This is what you want, this life- doing this...Don’t fucking lie to yourself. You want to be more than your parents, be someone.” He looked at your lips and then back up into your eyes, as you remained quiet he pressed the gun even harder against your clothed clit.

“M-my parents would be ash-ashamed of me.” He pressed it even harder “please.”

“Please what? You have to use your words doll.” He gave you a glinted smile- he enjoyed this immensely, what a sick man. “Maybe I can give your little boyfriend a call, have my men go after him and put a bullet in his fucking head. “

“You wanna be nothing, great, you already are.” He moved his gun from the right hand to the left and replaced the cold barrel of the pistol with his fingers; the warmth of them was warmly greeted with your involuntary moan. He moved the gun right under your chin- you wanted to cry again, your eyes were closed. He was capable of anything. Don’t cry in front of him, don’t do it.

He started tracing circles on your clit and as you opened your mouth to breath out a moan, he pressed his lips to yours- tongue touching your upper lip. You were scared, so fucking scared, all you felt since meeting him was this- attraction and fear. All of it led to this moment, a breaking point he reached once he thought you were gonna leave him.

“Open your mouth” he was mere inches away from your lips, he moved the gun next to your body again, pressing into you “open.”- you obeyed. The size of him alone pressing into you was almost suffocating.

You tried to kiss back- in all your shocked state, truly, you tried. His touches on the most sensitive part of your body were becoming erratic, too busy with the fact he was kissing you. He left your clit and started groping your breasts, almost painfully, you gave him a groan of pleasure mixed with the uncomfortable feeling of having a man his size shove himself over you, touching you anywhere he could get his hands on.

“You talk about leaving me but you’re so fucking wet.” a trail of saliva connected your mouths “You wanted this.” This wasn’t how you thought the night would end, with your boss on top of you. “Still think I’m wrong?” He removed himself from on top of you and grabbed your arm- putting you in front of the mirror, with him behind you; gun still in his hand.

You saw him pull himself out of his pants and shuddered, maybe in fear and maybe in lust too, this big scary man. Almost crying just because you wanted to leave him, you’ve only known him for a few weeks.

You were holding yourself up on your hands and as he pulled your panties to the side and slowly entered you, you saw him close his eyes in pleasure and then look back down at the way you took him.

He pressed the palm of his hand on your back; so you leaned forward even more, giving him an eyeful of you and him.

You almost felt like screaming when he buried himself so deep into you the next second, you’re pretty sure you did. What if one of the girls came in? You’re pretty sure Oz wouldn’t give less of a fuck about that right now.

“Ow fucckk..” he looked up and back down again before setting a pace that made your knees almost give out, thank God you were holding yourself up. He grabbed one of your legs and put them on the sink so he could bury himself even deeper.

When you felt something cold once again on your head you knew he had the gun pointed again at you; your blood ran cold. “You wanted to leave me..I own you.. I fucking own you” He smacked your bum so hard you knew it would leave a mark; with his eyebrows furrowed and a slight smile he asked you “Tell me, who owns you?” he wants to humiliate you, you thought you had a choice; that you could leave, you never had a choice; never will.

You felt like your cheeks would light on fire by the embarrassment you felt, either way, you had to obey him.

“Y-you” you shamefully lowered your head; closing your eyes, God it felt good to be fucked like this, minus the gun, on second thought, maybe with the gun was better. This was sick.

“Didn’t fucking hear you!” he roughly grabbed your hair and pulled you flush against him, with one hand he held the gun under your chin, with the other he grabbed your breast and fucked you against the sink. You didn’t know what to grab- so one of your hands instinctively grabbed the one he had against your boob- to pull him away if he grabbed you as hard as he did before and with the other-you held the one that had the gun.

He pressed his nose against your cheek, “Who owns this pussy too, huh?” he kissed the side of your face, he wasn’t going to stop, was he?

Not only were you getting fucked by a man decades older, he practically could do whatever he wanted with you; kill you, fuck you, make you beg for him.

“You do.” You hated saying this and loved it at the same time- the way he felt inside you, his big hands on you, the same hands that killed so many people without so much as a second thought- this was too much.

“Jesus…you’re fucking drenched.” He wasn’t lying, besides the muffled sounds of music from outside- the only sound in the room was the one your bodies made and the occasional groan from him and your moans, only you two could hear them- at least you hoped.

“I’m gonna cum…tell me you want me to cum.. tell me you want it inside.” Goosebumps appeared on your skin and your thighs started shaking a little, either by the size of him or in anticipation, you didn’t know.

“I want it, please.” you told him, at this point his face was buried in your neck and his pace was losing momentum so you pushed yourself up against him; again and again.

“Please what? Please what?!” he asked while fucking you

“I want you to cum in-inside.” This whole ordeal, it got you so spent up you felt tears in your eyes; he shoved himself as deep as he could inside of you, pushing your body next to the sink until it was painful and you felt the way his cock was pulsing inside of you.

“You’re not going anywhere.” he kissed you on your cheek. “You’re not going anywhere.” he whispered again.

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

Author's note: Dude you fucked your own criminal kingpin boss?

Hope you liked the story, have a good day xoxomxxoxoxo

#oz cobb #the penguin #the penguin tv #oswald cobb x reader #oz cobb x reader #the penguin hbo #oswald cobblepot #the penguin x reader #oz cobblepot #penguin tv show #colin farrell penguin #hbo the penguin

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bludhavens-finest · 12 hours ago

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Ok so this is the biggest blog I have so I will be talking about it here, also comics have always been inherently political so it makes sense to talk about here, this will be posted to the rest of my blogs as well

I’m going to tag this with tw’s, if you don’t want to see more shit about the election I get it believe me I do, that’s fine. If you do stay around I’m going to be incredibly blunt about this shit

1. Do not fucking kill yourself. The amount of queer and especially young people I have seen saying that they are going to is astronomical, these people are not worth loosing your life. If you need help, get help, talk to someone, at the end of this post I’ll add numbers/websites

2. If you are disabled like me, and you need something medically whether that be vaccines, surgeries, procedures, mobility aids, medications, or even certain information; get them now while you can. The medical system in America is a bitch to deal with and even harder to get into, most of my appointments take at least three months, but if you can get in and get things done before they switch who’s in office, get it done now.

3. If you are trans and planning to get gender affirming surgery or healthcare in the next few months same goes for you, get the surgeries while you still can and get on meds now, if you get on them now it’s going to be easier to keep the prescription for as long as you can.

4. If you’re a woman or afab, get birth control while you can. Because they are going to get rid of birth control at this point, they’ve already gone after abortions and this is the next step.

5. But queer/feminist/punk media and books while you still can, because yes they can and will ban books they already do it in schools

6. Honestly I would even go so far as to say start buying physical copies of certain bands if you can, because most hardcore and just regular punk bands will probably be less accessible

7. Honestly probably just get a vpn at this point, I know you’ve gotten an ad for one from a YouTuber before, look into the company’s, find one you can afford and like

8. If non-Americans or even just some Americans who are republicans (which if you are fuck off.) think this is an over-exaggeration it’s really not.

America is the only first world country without universal healthcare, most people in this country either die waiting for a doctor, die because of a doctor (medical negligence and malpractice are leading causes of death in America, over a quarter of a million people die a year because of it.), public transit is non-existent, disabled people have been fighting for our rights for decades, women lost the right to control their own bodies after having that right for less then a life span. Many woman were there when roe v wade passed and still alive when it was overturned. Because it all happened in the span of 50 years. The amount of violence in our police departments (that are only getting more and more funding), the lack of education and lack of historically accurate information taught in public schools, the literal fucking constant brainwashing campaigns.

This is all coming from someone who is Afab, a Minor, living in the south, mentally and physically disabled, a lesbian, and trans. Believe me I understand how fucking scared people are.

It is 2024 almost 2025, not 1970. You have access to information and you are entitled to being informed, so inform yourself. Check your own sources, do your own research.

I’m well aware that this all seems fucking dystopian, I know that it seems like there’s no point, but keep yourself safe. If you need a break from seeing all this filter your tags, go outside for a while, get off the internet, play with your pets, talk to friends. Just don’t let yourself sit in this and worry yourself to death, it’s not going to help anyone.

Numbers you can call: 1-866-488-7386 (Trevor project), If you go to their website you can also text if talking isn’t safe, 988 (suicide and crisis line),

#ooc post #but an important one #election 2024 #us elections #tw sui talk #tw sui ideation #tw us politics #disability #queer community

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chainofclovers · 2 days ago

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(Writing this before the presidential election results are known. Not giving up hope because we just know don't what happen, but also sick with worry and anger and sadness. Hitting post November 5, 11:23 p.m. ET.)

I think the thing that is particularly upsetting to me right now is how lopsided it all is in terms of where there is nuance and where there's just a big fucking hammer. I have watched people in my life wrestle with this election, with how violent U.S. foreign policy is, with how to vote as responsibly as possible for the future of our democracy and its citizens while so much is wrong in the world. I've had interesting and fruitful conversations and I've been, honestly, so proud of people for showing up and voting up and down the ballot and rallying behind the most pragmatic future. That was what the Harris vote meant to me. As glad as I would be to see the U.S. elect our first woman president, and a woman of color at that, this vote was about pragmatism and survival, quite literally. And I spent all day today at a few different precinct polling places, volunteering in the "electioneering" zones, and talking to people for whom this vote was about wanting a woman of color in this role, and people who just want a change, and people who were casting their first vote today, and people who are jaded after voting in every election and seeing so much of this country and world stay so deeply shitty, and people who were very informed on the ins and outs of the ballot and people who were overwhelmed and needed some assistance, and people doing that pragmatic voting thing due to that dual ambivalence/pride factor that I feel sooo deeply and it was just like...yeah!!!!!! This is the cross-section of people who mostly despise violence and mostly love-hate their country and genuinely want to find a path forward and are willing to navigate that together. There were people literally dancing at the polls, not because this is such a fabulous place to live but because hope and participation are a really powerful medicine.

And then there are just droves and droves and droves of people for whom it feels like a simple thing to vote for a man who has raped and assaulted multiple people and is a remorseless, vindictive fraud who doesn't care whether the planet is inhabitable in the decades to come. Some because they actively love those qualities, and some because they've been intimidated into thinking it's the only Christian thing to do. And I'm so fucking sick of this just being the way of things in this cursed country founded on the suffering of indigenous people and built with slave labor.

If Harris wins it'll be a gasp of relief, three minutes of rest, and an immediate, exhausted return to working to make things better. And if Trump wins I guess we don't even get the three minutes, and it's all that much harder because of the terrifying fascism. So many of his supporters don't even realize their rights are at stake and it makes me feel genuinely insane.

I don't even know where I'm going with this, I'm just really tired of all the scrutiny and pressure and analysis being on the people in the first paragraph, all of whom are trying so fucking hard to do the right thing despite tragic and overwhelming circumstances. It isn't fair. And I really do realize that it isn't over yet. It's just incredibly sad that it's this close.

#u.s. politics #cw: rape #about me

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mallevsmaleficarum · 6 months ago

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alright, since all important faculty members are evil, maybe augefort is the bbeg for senior year

#in the sense that-#lmao can you imagine #but if I say it now and on the off chance its correct that'd be funny #because really what was the deal with grix anyways?#and why does he collect evil doers and powerful cursed objects if not to do some fucked up wizard shit #fucked up wizard shit is what wizards DO #like he's morally neutral at best anyways you're telling me the bad kids aren't gonna have to stop some plan he put into action?#even accidentally- which has kind of already happened #it would be so sick and scary to see arthur augefort act with REAL malicious intention #he was indirectly responsible for every near calamity that has happened thus far....wait... unless????#how did jace and porter get hired in the first place?#i'm lowkey convincing myself now #I don't even think I want to be right but here we are #like the town of elmville is wildly different from the rest of spyre- why is that really?#he has the entire town protected by the school through a series of complex rituals with specific conditions- that somehow keep being met #idk if you told me it was some experiment or some long con at this point-#the only thing is I genuinely don't know what his motivation would be- thats what makes this so unlikely #if augefort was secretly the god of chaos maybe; or wanted to be- but I do think he could be a god already if he wanted to be #he's already powerful enough #my guy seems to genuinely enjoy creating chaos and exploring chronomancy and teaching children violence #so I think he's content the way things are #but hey #you never know #fantasy high #inner monologue of stupid #fantasy high junior year spoilers

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meyerlansky · 1 year ago

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I have successfully boiled my problem with most of the izzy reads that i hate down to a sentence:

he's not sexually repressed, he's emotionally repressed.

#they are different and ihave paragraphs and paragraphs of thoughts on it #but dressing like a leather daddy and holding your hand over an open flame and literally everything else he does #is not the behavior of a man who doesn't know or realize what gets him going #he's not closeted. he's not homophobic. he thinks having Any Positive Emotion not related to violence makes you vulnerable #[and he's right for his experience and circumstance but i won't touch that now]#his conflict is emotional; ed's ability to captain isn't compromised by his being attracted to a man. it's compromised by Having Feelings.#their ability to survive a world that wants them dead isn't compromised by either of them being queer; it's compromised by being SOFT #by having WEAK SPOTS #pets are a weak spot. lovers are a weak spot. get rid of them to stay safe. not out of spite.#not out of a disdain for those relationships themselves. out of disdain for what Feelings Do To You #idk man maybe i am simply emphatic about this nuance because i get—more than I would like—the impulse to be SAFE #even at the cost of your self and some chances at being happier #he doesn't even care that lucius is gay in the deck scene and i'd go so far as to say he doesn't really care that lucius is slutty #insofar as. like. he doesn't know him and pete are open. from a monogamy-normative perspective it's a betrayal.#your partner being unfaithful when you expect them To Be is ALSO A THING THAT CAN GET YOU KILLED #like idk i just. i think people don't get how much of him is about safety?#and i know the show's created this atmosphere of 'homophobia isn't a real threat'#but they haven't removed the violence and danger crews other than stede face for Other Reasons #so. he's very security-driven. and that's why he speaks to me.#and it's annoying that people just make 'lol izzy's closeted' 'peak homophobic gay' jokes instead of. engaging. with the shit izzy AND ED #went through to make them emotionally closed off the way they are #THE SENTENCE IS A SENTENCE BUT THE EXPLANATION SURE ISNT

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lwcina · 6 months ago

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the fact that the us government can continue funding and arming a genocide despite massive public opposition really highlights how inherently non-democratic the united states is

#almost like the idea of a representative demcracy is both historically undemocratic and inherently is incapable of being so #by historically i mean that representative democracies have always meant the creation of a category of ‘citizen’ that is above ‘non-citizen #even the civilization where the term democracy comes from was patriarchal and had fucking slavery #not chattel slavery but (hot take) non chattel slavery is still bad.#also fundamentally one person can literally not represent the wishes of a large collection of people who have only geography in common.#theyre going to want different things!!!#now the idea of if democracy is inherently a virtue is like. another topic. but i will say that like seeing the history of like the #popular sovreignty movement wrt to slavery really made me question it. just because a lot of people want something to happen doesnt #actually mean it should happen. white people voted to legalize slavery #kind of where the old ‘minority’ terminology comes in. just by numbers alone in the states that had these votes it wasnt like in the south #where in the south because of plantations the actual population majority in some places was black.#but in those midwestern new states even if everyone person there could have voted. white people would still be the vasy majority.#honestly to a degree pointing out that none of the societies that have claimed to be democracies have truly been democratic is…#i guess the primary value in it is to challenge people who take state mythologies at face level #a very large population that i often forget exists.#the ‘they cant do that its illegal’ types.#anyways. if we consider that every society in documented history has had some type of violence and oppression #and if we believe that people are NOT inherently selfish/violent #it follows that what we need to do is something different than what we have been doing.#not just different from what we are doing right now. but different from what we have been doing for the past centuries #but also i can imagine that societies and ways of living that aren’t legible to the status quo or just went undocumented for other reasons #may have been more egalitarian. and we dont know due to erasure (either intentional or non-intentional)#both erasure and a fundamental inability of historians to comprehend it. similar to how cishet historians who cant fathom the idea of #transness or lesbianism talk about things.

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mushroom-for-art · 1 year ago

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Back to our regularly schedules beat downs with part 4 of this au with the wonderful Syn belonging to @seasidemew being put in situations!

Rainstorms

Rain lashed down hard and fast and Syn groaned from under his psychic protection as wind whipped up and slapped raindrops in his face. He did not like the rain, especially with it interfering with his flight and tracking, he couldn't sense anything past the heavy clouds and the rumbles of thunder. It'd been a few weeks since he last actually knew the location of the pair turned trio, he'd left to let their dynamic settle not wanting to deal with the fight and resistance as a new social dynamic formed and when he finally lazily backtracked to locate them he couldn't sense a trace! Nada, zilch!

He thought he sensed a ping of shadow energy far off east one day but it was too far away, with the pairs' travel pace even with Citrus' abilities they couldn't have gone that far could they? Not with May walking at least and from what he gathered from watching them she wasn't exactly the most confident when being carried around either.

Another harsh gust saw raindrops flying right into his eye and he snarled at the sky, "FINE," he growled as if it could hear him and was intentionally trying to provoke him. He shot up through the clouds' psychic energy creating a shield to protect him from any rogue lightning that may decide to take issue with him. Fighting through the storm he finally broke through and flew above it looking down tail swaying at the expanding storm, he lifted himself further looking to try to get an idea of how large the storm was to estimate how long it would annoyingly stay around for. His psychic powers couldn't penetrate the dense storm system meaning he couldn't sense anything below, they could be right below him and he wouldn't have the foggiest clue and that frustrated him greatly.

Summoning psychic energy in his palms he moved his hands in calculated swipes attempting to dispel the storm through sheer will, he saw the clouds shift and swirl underneath him and he smirked at his act of controlling nature.

Screeching in rage at the insult against his skies the long green serpentine god swirled and descended rapidly onto the dark hued Pokemon invading its territory and messing with the balance of things. Their body slammed into a protect barrier in an attempt to slam into this perceived rival knocking them backwards by the sheer force and weight behind their collision snarling at the creature in insult Rayquaza did not allow even a moments breath as a concentrated shot of energy blasted from the back of their throat right at the other causing the protect to splinter and shatter.

Syn shot to the side to avoid the blast glaring at the sky god, "Oh you want to play huh?" He smirked, eyeing up the creature already in a bad mood from the weather and feeling overly cocky with himself in general. Flying past as the god attempted to ram into him again he created shadow energy around his hand like a claw stabbing his hand down into the back of the creature as he flew past to rip a long slash like wound across the length of its back before he had to break away for it's screeching and attempt to whip him with its tail end. He smirked at the damage caused as he watched the gods body spin as it flew to adjust itself.

The draconic power infused rock slammed hard into his back from behind as crackling energy blasted once more from the gods mouth, the energy darted through the sky in shades of purples and blues creating the silhouette of a dragon as it flew slamming into his front secondd after the rock. Syn yelled out in pain feeling his chest burning from the impact as his back ached in turn. His gaze turned hateful towards the serpent crystal in his shoulder growing and power flowing through his veins as his form changed and he went for them again.

His fist collided hard downwards into Rayquazas face as they roared in pain speckles of blood flying out the god's nostrils as Syns fist ruptured blood vessels in the gods snout. His other fist came punching above the creatures eye causing at least a fracture before strategically backing off to attempt a downwards kick into the back of the gods neck. Rayquaza twisted, grabbing his leg in their maw and biting down hard with previously concealed teeth. Syn yelled once more the pain and frustration attempting to kick the gods face but they wouldn't let go.

Rayquaza began to move their neck and head beginning to shake and sway Syn in its jaw like he was some play thing, each jostle sending the gods teeth deeper into his flesh, blood beginning to pour from the gods mouth through the clouds. He moved his body to attempt to grab at and forcefully wrench the serpents mouth open but it only snarled biting down harder as he attempted to pull it's maw open.

Finally it threw him but before he could even rebalance himself it rammed into him with a sickening thud that shook the skies like a crack of thunder. The god didn't stop flying past and swirling around slamming into him over and over each collision with intent to break and hurt and not letting him escape, not allowing him a moment to regain any composure.

Pokemon in the woods below scurried and ran to shelter as the storm cracked and rumbled on above them sensing the dispute as Syns yells of pain were drowned in thunder.

Rayquaza wrapped itself around Syn, squeezing him hard in its middle section crushing him, he felt his ribs cracking and like his arms were going to be popped and crushed further into their sockets. He could feel his consciousness slipping as the god slowly unwound itself. His eyesight was blurry as he looked watching an abundance of energy form around the creature as its form grew larger, orange energy flowed from it's forms as it looked down at him in disgust, before he could think the gods tail came down on him like a mighty whip cutting through his flesh and sending him hurtling down through the sky with a horrid crack that resonated along the sky.

The god returned to its original state glaring down at the clouds before ascending back up into the upper atmosphere having defended its territory.

Syns body smashed and bounced against trees on his way down further damaging his already battered body, he rolled and landed face down onto a bouldery stoned area and an empty gasp of agony wheezed from his throat as he felt his ribs break and a searing hot pain in his chest. Despite the state of him driven by the crystals strength he began to push himself up gasping in pain with blood slowly dripping down the jagged pointed rock he'd landed on, that had punctured through his lung.

He barely managed to remove himself from the rock as his mega form broke suddenly, his hands slipping from the cold and wet as he tumbled off of the rocks into the wet mud and grass with a groan of agony. And there he lay without any more strength left in him to drag himself to shelter or heal, barely able to really form a logical thought around the pain of his body and the difficulty in breathing he was currently having each breath a fight and a wheeze at that.

------

May had been out in the rain trying to find shelter, despite having managed to steal a human coat she still shivered for the cruel wind and felt soaked to the bone as she held a large leaf as a makeshift umbrella. She'd flinched to herself at the sound of the storm above, the sudden loud noises right overhead terrifying her with how unpredictable they were and relentless. All she could think of was a cave to at least shelter in she knew there was one nearby when she heard a strange sound. A wheezing, and no not the Pokemon. Despite her freezing fingers and trembling ankles begging her to just find shelter she moved her head and listened to follow the sound worried it may have been another Pokemon in distress.

The bloody bruised collapsed body that she found wasn't what she expected, despite the dimness of the tail and crystal she knew immediately who it was.

"Syn!" She hurried over, despite the fight despite the wariness of him to see him in this state, she couldn't just ignore it. She knew that she didn't really know him at all but she couldn't just continue walking. She knelt and carefully moved him into the recovery position to get a better look at him, gasping quietly at the bleeding wound on his chest on the left hand side. She felt the panic quickly setting in as she didn't know what to do.

Syn could hear someone nearby, had breathing not been so hard he would've tried to growl to preserve what little dignity he had left, his hearing was like he was underwater and incredibly faded but he was almost sure he heard his own name as his body was moved, he wheezed too weak to open his eyes exhaling a struggled, "nne…" as hands just slightly warmer than his cold body carefully cupped over his wound.

She couldn't let him die, she couldn't! I mean how was he supposed to become a better person to grow if he died right here right now? She couldn't let that happen; she owed it to him if he was truly sorry to at least have the chance to make it up to them. Her hands covered his wound as she struggled for clear thoughts, oran berries and medical leaks weren't enough to fix this the other wounds maybe but this looked bad real bad, it was a deep wound by the looks of it, as her hands covered the hole she could feel his breath escaping, oh god his lung was pierced. She tried to concentrate her thoughts to formulate a plan on how to save him, surely there would be some Pokemon nearby with some kind of healing move? Like, like recover or…

She didn't notice her hands blooming with warmth as she tried to think of what to do, green energy forming over her hands and flowing into him and over his body, the move focused on his internal damages mostly, closing the hole in his lung, fixing bone fractures and recorrecting other broken ones. When she opened her eyes from her panic thinking she stared bewildered at the green glow from his body, she glanced quickly at her palms confirming that it was her own powers before quickly focusing herself thinking thoughts of healing and wanting to help him to channel her limited abilities into healing.

Energy pulsed over his body glowing brightly in waves, his breathing became easier and more steady but he was still much too tired to awaken being far too drained from the battle. As the internal wounds and injuries fixed themselves her hands began to tremble with exhaustion before the energy weakened and fizzled to nothing. The rain continued to hammer down, but it seemed most of his injuries now were treatable through other means and he was much more stable.

May moved stumbling a little to her feet with leaf umbrella thoroughly abandoned, she moved him onto his back before crouching and wrapping her arms under his carefully and being rather cautious of the crystal as she heaved and huffed lifting him up the best she could and beginning to effectively drag him along as she carefully walked backwards checking her surroundings as she pulled him along, had he been a bit shorter she may have been able to lift him into a carry but his longer body made that difficult, she could only just pick up Darkness when standing around the waist.

Finally spotting the cave she knew was about she continued to carefully drag him along until they were finally in shelter, hoping he didn't mind when he woke up that she dragged him but what else could she do. Very slowly and very carefully she moved to lay him down on the cave floor, she sighed feeling more than a bit exhausted as she moved to slowly stand again she didn't have time to waste his other wounds still needed seeing too after all. She paused looking at him lying on the cave floor, she awkwardly shuffled closer moving to kneel besides him and pressed the side of her head against his chest listening carefully to his lung that had been injured as he breathed just to make sure that it had in fact healed and she wasn't just leaving him to quietly suffocate or suffer.

She lifted her head, nodding to herself satisfied with the sound of his breathing, no wheezing or whistling, just shallow as she carefully put him in the recovery position again in case he started to cough up blood while she was gone, not wanting him to choke. She took off the coat she was wearing and carefully lay it over him as a makeshift blanket or warmer as his skin was freezing. She wondered how long he'd been out in the rain for as she moved and headed back out to brave the weather for medical supplies.

Syn quietly shivered but he felt something warm on his body as he lay in vague awareness for what seemed like hours.

May swore her bone marrow was soaked by the time she came back carrying a bundle of medical leaks and oran berries as she sloshed back into the cave, she stopped to shake off her body at the cave entrance before she went deeper to where Syn was laying still to her knowledge unconscious. She carefully sat near him and removed the coat from him with a quiet, "I'm sorry I promise I'll put this back soon."

In one hand she crushed some oran berries into a smushed consistency as with her other hand and teeth she peeled the outer leaves off of the medical leak to get to the part that she needed, she squeezed the leak watching the clear fluid fall out the stem into the oran mush in her hand before she mixed and rubbed her hands together watching the color of the mush change into a more purpley to indicate the reaction was complete before she carefully began to cover Syns remaining wounds with the old style medicine.

A hot stinging ran through Syns spine and nerves from one of his injuries causing him to quietly groan and hiss in response as May carefully tended to his wounds creating more of the medical paste to apply as she needed it and wrapping the wounds to keep the paste in place with the long leak leaves. Despite the wound being healed she carefully added a dollop to his chest to get rid of what was on her hands before carefully putting the coat back over him to give him a blanket knowing he probably needed to be warm to recover properly.

May sighed softly feeling her eyes hang heavy, she had probably been up quite a while tending to him as she moved to look at him, she tilted her head a bit at him moving her hand slowly to touch his cheek and stroke up to feel his forehead, he thankfully wasn't burning up because she wouldn't know how to deal with a fever, he was still a bit cool though which made her worry. She slowly moved her hand off of his face realizing that was probably a bit strange but, guess Darkness had been right, he did have some cute stripes.

Shaking her head she moved to the other side of the cave sitting to lean against the wall, though guilt wracked through her as she saw his tail shiver with the cold. Cautiously shifted onto her knees and moved some sticks and leaves from the ground into a pile and held her hands over the little pile as she tried to concentrate, she didn't want him to be cold, just a little spark to keep him warm.

Energy quietly crackled and fizzled little sparks of energy darting from her paws zapping the leaf that fluttered and danced and another dart of energy seeming to walk along the little twig before a small flame formed. It swayed a bit as it grew on the end of the twig as first a soft red before a wave of orange yellow pinks and all colors waved through it and as the flame grew into just a small fire the colors danced and decorated the flame that radiated heat and light. She sighed softly in relief and exhaustion moving to rest back on her ankles, her head feeling more than a bit fuzzy from over exertion.

She watched the flame for a moment making sure it was contained, it shifted and danced but seemed relatively well behaved as she slowly moved to lie on her side tiredness quickly dragging her under into blissful unconsciousness.

——————————————————————

By morning it had finally stopped raining with the clouds beginning to depart and sunlight finally fighting it's way back through, droplets of water collected on leaves and blades of grass dripping down on anyone unsuspecting who knocked the incorrect branch like a mini shower. Syns eyes were heavy and it was a struggle to even barely open one to squint. He was in a cave by the looks of it from the vague shapes and colors he could make out. He blinked with his one eye heavily fighting to get it back open knowing he should be far more alert and wary of unknown environments. He could make out the faint smell of smoke, glancing he spotted some burnt leaves and twigs still emitting a thin little smoke wisp.

He closed his eye again just taking a moment to lie there before finally registering the slight weight on his body, finally and reluctantly he moved his head to look with blurry eyes and hard blinking as a coat came into vision draped over his body though it wasn't exactly big enough to cover him fully. He moved his arm slowly to lift the coat to examine it and paused, noticing green wrapped around his arm. He squinted in confusion as he moved his wrist closer to look at the leaves wrapped around him and became aware of the sensation of more leaf bandaged spots covering his body. What the hell happened…

He remembers the rain, then being above the storm…and..ugh.. That blasted snake. He groaned softly, moving to attempt to sit up and finally noticing a small pile of berries on a leaf left near him. Resting on his forearm to lift himself without fully committing to sitting up he stared at it, wracking his brain for how in the world those got there and if they were left by someone then who? And if they were left by someone were they the one who brought him here? Perhaps it was Citrine..

He turned his head hearing footsteps in the wet grass making faint splats and squelches as the unexpected but familiar orange one came into view, she was holding a large leaf with more berries carefully balanced inside like a bag by the looks of it leaves weaved and formed into a bowl shape. Their eyes met and she blinked at him looking surprised before to his surprise her expression turned into a smile as she looked at him.

"You're awake!" She beamed as she carefully stepped into the cave placing down the leaf bag of berries, "how are you feeling? I was worried figured you'd have woken up before me so when you were still out cold I thought oh that's not good I hope he's just sleepy so I went oh you know I'll go get him some foods for when he wakes he's probably gonna be starving." He watched her talk quickly but her tone was rather bright as she looked at him before kind of floundering as she placed down the leaf bowl filled with water, "oh arceus are you stuck? Do you need help?"

For a moment he was confused before realizing he was still only resting on his forearm barely lifting himself, he didn't feel as though he was genuinely stuck he likely had the energy to shove himself into a sit but, with the way she looked at him all worried and compassionate he let out a sigh lifting his other arm up.

"Yea, I'm, a bit more knackered than I thought I was," he lied, putting on a smile that passed as bashful as she moved closer and for a brief moment he thought of how easy it would be to just grab her and take her life. He felt her gently grab his arm though her grip was rather strong and her other hand gently held his shoulder where he was leaning before feeling her pull him into a sitting position as he blinked a bit at her strength as she helped him sit unassisted readjusting the coat so it was still around his shoulders for warmth.

She smiled at him, "is that better?" and he nodded as he collected his thoughts. She picked up the leaf bowl and carefully put it into his hand using her hands to make sure he had a proper hold on it, "here, you're probably thirsty. Got Suicune himself to bless the water so it is of utmost freshness." She smiled at him again, moving to shuffle from where she'd crouched to help him up to check his tail.

"You know Suicune?" he inquired though his tone was friendly as she shyly laughed slowly unwrapping some of the leaves off of his tail and wiping away the excess medication to reveal a fully healed wound with no mark nor scar.

"oh, oh no not personal or no I've never actually seen him. It's, that's more of a joke me and my brother use when we're reassuring each other that something is safe. Like there berries are good got them from Celebi themselves, or surely these rocks are safe Groundon told me so." She made a nervous soft laugh, "sorry." She felt unsure and awkward as she checked where he had been injured.

He chuckled softly as he drank some of the water it was cool and quite refreshing actually he hadn't noticed the horrid coppery taste in his mouth till just now.

"I appreciate you trying to reassure me that it's not poisoned." Laughing again at her startled gasp as she very panicked told him she wouldn't do such a thing.

"I'm pulling your leg I knew you wouldn't." He heard her sigh in relief as he chuckled moving to pick out a berry to try, "so got these from Celebi huh? Well if they're no good I'll be having words with the little onion." His teeth sank into the flesh of the berry as she made a soft chuckle seeming to appreciate him playing into the joke with her as he hummed softly, "I suppose the onion gets to live," joking on as she made a soft gasp at his answer looking a bit shocked as he chuckled once more at her expression. He bit into the berry devouring it with quiet hunger he hadn't even realised he was feeling. Getting beat down apparently gives one quite the appetite.

He paused his eating feeling Mays palm gently rest on his chest, he looked at her hand then back at her seeing her expression being quite focused as he raised a brow, "I didn't think we knew each other that well," He easily teased as he watched her expression become startled as she removed her hand.

"I'm sorry! When I found you you have a chest injury and I wanted to make sure it was like healed? That I couldn't feel your lung struggling I guess? So I thought hey I'll just feel through my palm because I didn't want to just put my ear against your chest because that's kind of weird but that was probably even weirder I'm so sorry." Her voice was undeniably stressed as she rambled her reasoning.

Syn smirked a bit gently taking her wrist and placing her palm back on his chest, "well by all means nurse, feel away," He chuckled removing his hand glad when her hand didn't pull away. He took a long deep breath in, he held it and then exhaled for her as well. She nodded a bit to herself.

"One more time? Just a bit slower." He chuckled taking in another long deep breath but slower, holding his breath and then slowly exhaled as she nodded once more, "feels, good I can't sense any difficulty and that didn't hurt right? Ah Magikarp I should've asked that before I started touching and letting you do breathing exercises I'm so sorry."

He waved a dismissive hand to the side, "if it'd hurt I would've gone 'ow!'" He chuckled, "and I did the breathing first, I wouldn't have if it hurt. For someone who patched me up and brought me here you're so apologetic. I mean you and whatever pokemon you convinced to use recover or whatever healing move on me saved my life."

He watched her duck her head shyly slowly moving her palm and brushing her thumb over a scar that had been left behind, "it was me actually, I just, if I'd been stronger maybe you wouldn't have a scar so I feel bad I couldn't heal you spotless." He hummed slightly moving his hand to the scar making a soft sound as May pulled her hand away.

"oh yea, would you look at that," he'd not noticed before a paler spot of scar tissue, "well what's another stripe, besides I imagine without your help I'd have a lot more to worry about than a little scar." He lazily brushed off his chest of imaginary dirt, "and that's not the worst scar I've received and whenever I look at it I know it's because I was helped by a very pretty nurse." He gave her a toothy smile as he saw hues of pink appear on her face before she looked away shyly laughing in response.

"oh don't look away from me, cute thing, how am I to admire the one who saved me?" He moved leaning closer as she looked away harder cheeks and over her snout thoroughly pinkened, "I must say I'm impressed you even managed to move me, did you perhaps mega evolve? Or levitate me?" She leaned away from him in shyness gently putting her hands to his face and pushing him back away from her making a soft odd embarrassed e-eh vocalization type sound.

"no, no I just, I had to drag you? Sorry," she glanced at him nervously worried he'd be mad at being dragged around, he blinked, pressing his face into her hands that were holding him away for sheer sanitys sake, he looked her up and down brows coming together in thoughtful puzzlement.

"You must be very strong," as he tried not to laugh at the mental image of her dragging his large mega body. Like a Lillipup with a Snorlax plushie he couldn't help grinning at the thought as May shyly looked away.

"I guess? Uh," she slowly brought her hands back to herself feeling awkward about holding him away by the face, "sorry," to which he chuckled easily.

"Oh it's all good, I could certainly get used to having your hands on me after all." The squeak she made as she ducked and moved to get up made him chuckle in a mischievous fashion though sad to see her put physical distance between them he was sure the blush was reaching her horns.

"Well!" She fumbled with her hands a bit shyly glancing over to him as her face felt very warm, "since you seem in good spirits I suppose I can uh, with confidence say you'll be fine and probably don't need anymore help from me? So you're uh, discharged or something." She could see him grinning at her playfully as she realized she was playing into the nurse bit.

"Why not stay? I haven't seen you eat a bite yet, and I'd like to see you eat, so why don't you join me in breakfast?" holding out a berry for her as she looked a bit shy and unsure, "Please? I'm sorry for teasing you really, I'm still trying to do and be better so let me show you that I'm changing for the better?" He looked at her all soft and pout like watching her shoulders slowly relax as she smiled back at him with a soft;

"oh fine, but only because you're looking at me all sad." before moving to sit opposite him accepting the berry he held out and taking a careful bite. His tail swayed content watching her stay with him, smiling to himself as he bit into a new berry himself enjoying the flavor on his tongue wondering what she was thinking of him right now, surely positive things. With how pink she was he was curious if she was attracted to him.

"So," He started carefully, "how come you're all on your lonesome? I haven't heard or seen Citrine or pinky yet." He had to bite his tongue from adding a cheeky 'though I suppose you're pretty pinky right now.'

She looked at him with a soft, "oh," as she thought around a new mouthful of berry buying herself time before settling on, "Matt wanted some space, I asked Citrine to watch him, I'm sure they'll be back soon."

He tried not to show his intrigue, so she was alone, and she was alone with him of all people. He hid his thoughtful smirk behind another mouthful of food. Well, he was sure she would come around to liking him and understanding what he had to offer incredibly soon.

"Ah," He vocalized thoughtfully. "Say, if you're on your own and I'm on my own perhaps we could, travel together for a time? I'd hate to leave you on your own after all, especially considering how kind you've been to me. And, maybe you could get to see how I'm doing and what I'm doing to improve myself? It's been a while since we last saw each other after all and I want you to see that I'm serious about getting better." He smiled at her in casual affection, lies falling from his mouth easily.

He could see her hesitate for a moment, her tail shifting and waving in slow thought. He wasn't particularly panicked, she saved his life and stuck around to take care of him stayed to eat together there was no way she wasn't at least intrigued enough by him to consider the offer and by how open she was to interaction he can't see her denying.

"I, I think that'd be kind of nice actually," He hid a knowing smirk, "but," his mouth fell, "I'll be honest I'm still, wary of you..which I know is pretty awful of me considering that you've been really quite nice and you're likely working hard to improve your image and self and I don't want to knock you down from that, you seem to be really coming along well I'm just. It's just a me thing is all." He could see her squirm a little in guilt, in honesty he knew she was being completely reasonable and rational to be cautious of him especially as he knew he had less than honest intentions but seeing as the self doubt was already planted evident by her awkward disposition it made his job easier.

"No no I completely understand, we, didn't have a first good meeting and my behavior afterwards wasn't, I'm not the most proud of it." He looked at his hands as though in sorrow, "I completely understand your caution and I just appreciate that you're giving me a chance." He looked to her and smiled, "you're really kind for that." He saw her face soften into a smile, anxiety ebbing away slightly. Hook line and sinker she believed him and felt more reassured in his company.

He finished off the last berry and sighed softly in contentment, though he'd preferred something more meaty and maybe a bit more alive; he couldn't complain when the berries were picked for him and he didn't have to forage. He glanced at her seeing her finishing up as well as he stood up offering his hand to her.

"Let's go then huh, together?" He smiled down at her as she looked up at him, her expression soft as she smiled and took his hand so he could help her up to her feet.

"Together."

#My writing #@seasidemew oc #@seasidemew syn #Tw blood #Tw fighting #Tw violence #Tw lung injury #Tw manipulation #Syn that lives in my brain: hey who are those fighting warning for op. Me: oh no one..go look over there real quick #Beating Syn with a mallet and he squeaks like a chew toy at ever smash #Me: how would Syn logically be in such an injured state he needs healing he's like really op #The mushroom network that lives inside my brain: Have rayquaza beat his ass #Me: :0 you're right! Lmao so me just pits him against rayquaza because I need the scene dammit #And yes Rayquaza does mega at the end to land the finishing strike out of pure pettiness he's allowed #And YES half dying Syn does try to wheeze Anne because like he's real fucked up rn and presyn brain probably kind wishes she was with him #I just love the tragedy of to some minor degree a little part of him still thinks of her wishing she didn't let him go #Also he really do just be out here like oh May just saved my life? Press x to flirt #There's a time and a place my man's lmao #The oran berry medical leak thing is a PLA reference my fav medical media trope is slap some goop on that shit #Also he really just out here like I'm a good boy now see I'm totally getting good character development come closer I promise I won't bite #Also Syn once more grumpy with the weather I dunno why but I make him very grumpy about things in my writing XD as a treat on the house #I also make him seem weirdly touch starved lmao because he probably is lmao pressing into that touch #Funnily enough this is technically still pre corruption arc XD he still gets a lil corruption in probably but like no actually shadowin yet #Which is very funny to me because lmao these are all establishing fics I fucking love my build up fixs

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