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greenwitchfromthewoods · 1 day ago

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nymph. [part 4] l General Marcus Acacius

Summary: you have been with him for a long time, but he has never seen you. but everything has changed.

Warnings: +18, smut, fluff, maybe a little bit of angst, gods and mythology are treated in a simple way

A/N: part 4. I secretly hope you'll be gentle with me. I'm very curious about what your thoughts will be after this chapter. Please remember that I'd love to hear your comments and ideas. And especially when it comes to the ending of this part… I'll leave you alone now. I send you all my love.

I hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

nymph [masterlist]

"She's not from here."

Marcus raised his eyes and followed his old friend's gaze. They could see your silhouette between the trees. It was a beautiful, sunny day and you and Melitta were spending it in the garden.

The young girl had become your companion, although Marcus had often noticed the embarrassment and delight in her eyes almost simultaneously when she looked at you.

"No, she's not," he confirmed. "But would you believe me if I told you?"

Brutus smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. "I'm old enough to believe anything." he said. "But please, Marcus. Don't tell me things you should keep to yourself. Here," he pointed to the General's broad chest. "Everything is safer here."

Brutus' gray eyes wandered back to the garden. He had known Marcus when he was a child, his father had been Brutus' friend, and after his death he had surrounded the young man with care. He had never seen a woman in his house before, and he certainly didn't know of any that Acacius would look at in such a way.

"You love her." He said.

He didn't have to ask. He was at an age where certain things were simply obvious to him. Like this.

"I do." Marcus sighed. "More than anything."

"That's good. You can't fight the whole world without someone close to you. But she's not from here. Is she free?"

Marcus's eyebrows drew together. "I didn't take her as a concubine or a slave. She's free, more than any of us."

"Her family?" he saw a shadow in Acacius's gaze. "I see. Don't explain it, Marcus. She shouldn't appear among people without a background. Let's think..."

A warm wind blew through the window, playing with the delicate curtains, carrying with it the sweet scent of flowers. Brutus took a sip of wine and cleared his throat.

"You should say that her parents died when she was still a child. It would be safest." he said, and Marcus fixed his gaze on him, listening carefully. "Later, some distant family member took care of her. It wasn't a significant family. You met and fell in love, simply. Don't mention her origins, don't pay attention to her. Some may gossip about you, but it will quickly die down."

"I'm not afraid of gossip, only of her safety." Acacius replied. "I am the General, and I'm afraid that I won't be able to ensure the safety of the one I love."

Brutus nodded his gray head in understanding. "The gods must be favorable to you if you found each other in this vast world. It's a good sign."

And he really hoped that his friend was right.

A dozen or so days at Marcus' house passed quickly. You didn't find boredom there. Melitta accompanied you every day, slowly becoming a close friend.

Antigonus, on the other hand, strived to ensure that all your requests, or at least those that General Acacius agreed to, were fulfilled. So although he sometimes grumbled something under his breath, he let you sit for hours in a room full of maps and writings, which you looked through, and then in the evenings you asked Marcus about them.

His duties to the Emperor and Rome didn't allow him to spend as much time with you as he would have liked, but the thought that he was coming back to you was something that kept him sane.

Never before had this house been filled with such conversations and feelings. Never before had he felt as if he was hiding the most precious treasure. You.

"If you knew the true faces of the gods, your eyes would turn white." You said one evening, turning in the sheets. The glow of the candles danced on your bare back, and your hair was in a sweet mess. "All those carvings in the temples, the paintings - poof! - nonsense. None of you have seen the true wrath of Mars or Jupiter. You have not experienced the grace of Venus."

"So what lies next to me if not a gift from Venus?" Marcus asked, leaning down and placing a kiss somewhere between your shoulder blades. "Or Mars? I thought I was the favorite of the gods?"

"Sometimes you are too sure of yourself, General." You replied sarcastically, but you sighed quietly when his hand tightened on your buttock. "The gods have their favorites, but that doesn't mean they can't get bored with them."

"I don't care." His hands grabbed your hips and quickly turned you around, your laughter filling the darkened chamber. "As long as I have you in my hands, I am not afraid of the wrath of the gods. You are my redemption."

A hand tenderly stroked his cheek, fingers slipping into the curly hair among which you could see silver threads. "Don't treat me like one of them, my beloved... I'm not worthy of this."

The brown eyes that were staring at you, however, said something else. Adoration and delight radiated from his insides.

"To me, you are above them all." he replied, spreading your thighs with his hand and placing himself between them. "I want to adore you every day. Praise the day when my eyes saw you for the first time. Fight for you, conquer for you, live for you."

"Marcus..."

His hard cock slid into you without a problem, all the way to the base. Still slippery, full of his seed. You had made love just a moment earlier, like almost every night. Almost, because you also appreciated those moments when you could just fall asleep in each other's arms, feeling the closeness of your bodies, feeling the steady beating of your hearts.

"I will adore and worship you." his voice was low, he whispered to you as if he was praying "Your body is a temple, your sweet moans are songs of praise..." you sighed feeling him move inside you, you tightened your fingers on his strong shoulders "I was a mere mortal when your grace fell upon me. You were the one who decided to stay with me, now I will give you all of myself."

Hot lips kissed your neck as Marcus thrust into you with increasing force. You already knew perfectly well his endless hunger for you, so you gave him what he needed.

Acacius was a generous lover. He gave you pleasure in every way he knew, and you fell apart in his hands, intoxicated by this feeling.

You never thought before that bodies could fit together so well, complement each other so much and give each other small deaths, while feeling that they were more alive than ever before.

"I love you..." his hot whisper reached your ears, you wrapped your arms around his neck, slid your hands into his soft hair "More than life, more than anything I know."

He hit exactly that spot, you couldn't say a word, catching your breath. His hot, sweaty body was pressing down on you lightly, but it didn't matter. Soon the pleasure spread through your body, all your senses and heart froze.

Marcus felt your delicate walls squeeze his cock, but he didn't stop. His prayers had to be finished. He lifted himself on his shoulders, eyes swept over your sweaty cleavage and breasts, wandering to the place where you were connected. He disappeared inside you a few more times, and then a deep moan escaped his throat as his seed spurted into you, filling you up again.

Tender hands touched his face again, pulling him into a kiss. Soft lips that he never wanted to leave, arms that were supposed to embrace him forever. The woman who was supposed to love him for eternity.

When Marcus told you that morning that you could go out with him and see Rome, your eyes widened with delight. You had been begging him to let you see the city for a long time, although you understood perfectly well why he refused to do so. Every decision had to be thought out, every move planned.

"We'll visit Brutus, it's nothing interesting." he said, but the smile didn't leave his lips when he saw the glint in your eyes.

Melitta had been trying to help you dress for several minutes, but you were so excited that you couldn't stand still.

"My lady." she sighed. "The sun will set before you cross the threshold. Please..."

"I know, I know..." you repeated once again "It's just so, so exciting."

"Rome is beautiful." Melitta draped the material over your shoulder "You'll like it. Although I prefer forests and meadows... Bathed in the morning light, with the grass still covered in dew."

You tightened your fingers lightly on her arm. "I'll take you there, I promise." you said quietly "Soon."

The door creaked and you both jumped as General Acacius appeared before you. Even though he wasn't wearing armor, he still looked dignified. He smiled at the sight of you and nodded towards Melitta.

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, my lord." she said curtsying.

"You did well." he praised her "You look wonderful, my love. I have something for you."

He took your hand and carefully slid a gold ring with an emerald stone onto your finger. He pressed his lips to your knuckles.

"It's for your safety." He explained seeing your questioning look. "Anyone who sees this ring will know who you..."

"...belong to." You finished for him.

He kissed your hand again and covered it with his. He wanted to avoid saying those words, but at the same time he wanted them. He wanted to know that you were only his.

Your eyes darted from one face to another, from one fruit stand to the beautifully dressed people you saw leaving the building. Conversations, laughter, the sound of horses' hooves, children running around. You had never been in a place like this before.

Marcus was close to you the whole time, observing your every move and gesture, noticing every smile and delight in your eyes. For a moment he regretted that he didn't see it all the same way you did.

Years of fighting wars, talking to politicians, worrying about the fate of the country, had made him feel tired and numb. To everything, except you.

"Thank you, beautiful lady! May the gods bless you!" a hoarse voice rang out behind him.

It was only then that he noticed that you had escaped his eyes. Something or someone caught your attention. An older man, in a tattered robe, who was sitting against the wall begging for alms. The closer to the gladiator fights, the more of them appeared in the city, of all ages, sexes, and in various states of health.

Something flashed in the man's dirty hand and Acacius realized that you had given him one of your rings. Not the one he had given you that morning, some other one. He felt a warm surge of affection for you, because he had already forgotten what or who you were before, that you thought differently than those he knew.

A strong hand gently grabbed your arm. "We should go."

You nodded and obediently followed Marcus.

"The Emperor expects your presence during the fights. You should be there." Brutus sat comfortably on a bench under a spreading tree and nodded to the young girl who handed him wine. "There will be no better opportunity for her to go there with you."

"I'm not so sure about that." Marcus replied. "The Emperor, these people..."

"You can't keep her at home forever, Marcus!" the man snorted "I know you want her safety, but someone will notice her soon. Besides, I heard that a few people would be interested in you finally getting married."

Acacius frowned and snorted at the very statement. This topic always appeared when he returned to Rome, that's why he preferred barracks and battlefields, soldiers didn't care about marital status.

Besides, marriage for people of his position was rarely connected with deeper feelings. It was about the arrangement, about position, about wealth, about creating a strong family.

Somewhere nearby he heard a familiar quiet laugh and noticed you with Aurelia, Brutus' wife, who was showing you around their house. His friend noticed how the General's face brightened at the sight of you.

"It gives me great joy to see you like this." he said warmly "I don't know what spell this girl has cast on you, but the gods are kind to you, since they allowed your paths to cross."

"I will be grateful to them for the rest of my life." Marcus said. "I feel like I knew her before my eyes first met her."

"Is that possible?"

"I don't know... Maybe it was just a dream." He raised his glass to his lips and took a sip of sweet wine. "So be it. She will accompany me there." Brutus patted him on the shoulder happily. "You're right. There will be no better time, and I don't want to risk it."

"We will be there too. But warn her, Marcus. A viper's nest is a terrible place for beautiful creatures like her."

Acacius nodded. A strange fear filled his heart, but when he heard your footsteps, when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, it all flew away with the wind.

Something strange woke you up at night. For a moment you tried to understand what it was. Marcus was sleeping quietly next to you, his arm around your waist, his body as hot as the sun close to yours.

You felt it again. The scent that woke you up, so familiar.

Sage and other herbs, burning somewhere outside the window, in a garden immersed in darkness. You quietly and carefully got out of bed and threw thin robes over your naked body. The window was open and the gentle wind must have unconsciously brought the delicate smoke into the room.

You strained your eyes to see in the darkness the person who was not only burning herbs, but also...

Yes, you knew the words to this prayer. You had heard it several times in one of the temples, but not in the temple dedicated to Minerva. These were words addressed to Venus, and they were whispered quietly by someone you knew so well.

A prayer filled with regret, interwoven with quiet sobbing…

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

@ashleyfilm @gothcsz @littlenicpascal @missladym1981 @axshadows @psychoenergy @sabsunflowergirl @pedrofan @heckzprince @hard-candy-writing @mynameisbaby9 @94namkooksworld @bbyanarchist @picketniffler @tranquilty @psyched2b @jeewrites @tuquoquebrute @aotfantasmagorias

#pedro pascal #marcus acacius #gladiator 2 #general acacius #marcus acacius x reader #general marcus acacius #general marcus acacius x reader #gladiator ii #nymph series

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minisugakoobies · 2 days ago

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It's You - Choi San | All Yours

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around continues, this is just a very soft little holiday gift from me to you, San remains the sweetest and OC remains fully whipped for him Word Count: about 900 words Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: All San wants for Christmas is Noona 🥰 I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season if you celebrate and if you don't then I hope you have a lovely day ❄️

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It's late on Christmas Eve when the last of your family finally leaves, and you can excuse yourself from your parents and lock yourself in your bedroom. It's late, so late that you consider for a moment not calling, but you're pretty sure San's still up. He'd made you promise him several times that you would call him today. But you've been too busy dealing with nosy aunts and loud cousins at the family party to do it any earlier.

It's late, but it doesn't matter. He's as happy to see you as you are him, his dark eyes crinkling in delight, and then his smile turns shy, like he's embarrassed at how much just the sight of you lights him up inside.

There's no reason for him to be embarrassed. Your glow mirrors his.

You don't want to hang up long enough to wash your face, so he joins you at the sink. You glance at the screen while drying your face to see him delicately scrubbing his skin with sudsy fingertips, and he sees you and pulls a face, making you giggle. It almost feels like a normal night, hanging out together. Almost. You sigh.

"I miss you."

San surprises you by looking surprised at your admission.

"What? Is that news to you?" It shouldn't be. The two of you haven't stopped texting since you'd left the apartment three days ago to head home for Christmas. San and his sister had left as well to have a quiet holiday with their parents. Since then, you've had to invent a million excuses to slip away from your family and disappear into your phone. The device has barely left your hand, every alert making your heart jump, knowing San is thinking about you as much as you're thinking about him.

"No," San scoffs, face relaxing into a pleased expression, a soft half-smile that fully melts your heart. "Of course you miss me. I'm amazing."

"Nah, I changed my mind, I don't miss you," you say, pretending to frown, and San plays along, pouting dramatically, and you can't help but sigh again. "Okay, fine, I do."

"You always give in to me so easy, Noona," he informs you, that spark back in his eye, the one that makes your stomach flip. "I think I’m your weakness."

He's joking, except maybe he's not, and you both know it. You settle in your bed, burrowing under the layers of covers, shivering because your personal heater is several hundred miles away. San does the same, lying on his side as he gazes into the phone, humming lightly. If you close your eyes, it’s like he’s lying right beside you.

The two of you chat a little about your days. His was spent watching holiday movies with Hanuel while his parents prepared a big dinner together for the four of them. You talk a little about your extended family and the chaos they brought to your house today.

This is the happiest you’ve felt all day. Even when having fun with your family earlier, you’d felt a little off, like something was missing. Making San laugh now, watching those delicate lines around his eyes crinkle with joy, fills you with such a strong contentment that you can’t stop smiling.

San’s laughter turns to amused hums the longer you talk, and he nestles lower and lower into his pillow until his eyes are struggling to stay open. You don’t even bother to finish your story, too busy adoring the sight of him.

"Go to sleep, San. Or Santa won't bring you what you wanted."

“Mmm,” he yawns, pressing one hand over his mouth, “but Noona, all I want is you.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” you roll your eyes, giggling.

“It’s true,” he protests, quickly growing serious, “it’s true, though. I wish you were here right now.”

You sigh. “Stop making me miss you so much.”

Both of you fall silent, watching each other through the phone. There’s a tension now, and it makes you nervous for some reason, and there’s only one thing you can think to say to clear the air. You’re not sure if it’s the right thing to say, but it’s the truth and you really want to share it all of a sudden.

“You already have me, you know.”

You’ve known for weeks now. Weeks full of longing glances, lingering touches, and hurried kisses - and sometimes more, in the rare moments the two of you had the apartment to yourselves. It’s time to admit it.

San takes your confession with a long silence of his own. Just when you think you’re about to have a cardiac event waiting for his response, he speaks. “I do?”

You nod. “If you want me. I’m all yours.” Can he hear your heart pounding through the phone?

San exhales quickly. “Mine.”

It’s an agreement. A declaration.

He traces his finger down his screen, pretending he’s stroking your cheek, and your skin buzzes from the mere suggestion. A warmth like you've never felt before spreads over you, soft and tender, so like the man gazing at you through the phone.

Tiredness begins to tug at you. Only one more sleep ‘til Christmas, then one more ‘til you’re back home.

And back in San’s arms.

"Merry Christmas, San," you whisper.

"Merry Christmas," he echoes softly. "Sweet dreams, Noona."

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

#ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #san x reader #choi san x reader #san fanfic #choi san fanfic #fic: it's you #fic: all yours

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peachylynnie · 2 days ago

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old

word count: 800 (unintentional)

synopsis: in which you ask rafayel a question he isn't prepared for.

contains: rafayel x mc!reader, established relationship, they're at the beach, reference to rafayel's lore (the part where mc doesn't remember him), fear of age, fluff to angst to even more angst (not a bad ending), and kissing.

a/n: this is a result of me listening to algernon by yorushika on loop, especially the part, "we're losing our memories slowly." enjoy! reblogs and comments are always welcome. do NOT copy or translate my work. rafayel does NOT endorse plagiarism.

"will you still love me when i'm old?"

"what kind of question is that?" rafayel pouts at you, scrunching his nose. "of course, i will."

you chuckle mirthlessly. bringing your knees to your chest, you don't look at him. instead, you stare off into the sun who is eager to finally embrace the waves after a long day. sighing deeply, you wonder if it is happy even though it no longer shines. "i'm serious, raf. i'm going to have wrinkles and all."

"pft, did i ever tell you i have a thing for wrinkles?"

"raf!"

"okay, okay!"

with a bright smile, rafayel cups your red cheeks and turns your face towards him. you can't help but tear up when you meet his eyes. no one has ever looked at you with so much love. there is no doubt he loves you now. but what about in the future? will he still look at you like this when you have aged? grayed? no longer able to hold a candle to a ripe rose?

shaking your head, you try to turn away, but rafayel doesn't let you. he turns you to face him again. "yes, i will still love you when you're old."

unable to stop the tears from flowing, you bury your head in rafayel's chest. you don't deserve him. no one does.

but rafayel wants to convince you otherwise. he wants you to see what he sees. he wants you to trust he will love you until your dying breath. he wants you to know he dreams of a moment in the future when he can truthfully tell you he lived a good life thanks to you and draw his last breath in your arms. he wants to grow old with you.

"cutie," he calls for you, trying to pull you away so he can look at you properly. "look at me. please?"

you could never say no to rafayel. you tilt your chin up, allowing him a peek at your swollen eyes. he can't help but giggle at how adorable you are. "there you are, cutie."

"it's not funny, raf," you whine as you tilt back down. "i won't be beautiful to you anymore. heck, i won't even be able to talk or move anymore. how could you possibly still love me then?"

"woah, woah," the lavender-haired man reacts as he pulls you by the shoulders. "you're afraid of a natural process all humans go through and not the terrifying, monstrous wanderers you face every day?"

"yes." you grumble.

rafayel chuckles and kisses your forehead. "trust me on this, cutie," he kisses your nose. "no matter what you look like," he kisses your cheek. "or what you do," he kisses your chin. "i will always love you." he kisses your lips, finally saving them from the cold ocean breeze. "always."

he deepens the kiss, wrapping a hand around your nape and the other around your waist. shutting your eyes, you relish in his lips and allow your tears to fall. as the sand beneath you grows wet from your tears, your fingers find refuge in rafayel's clothes, with you desperately hoping this moment could last forever. two lovers, seeking each other's presence on the beach and promising to love each other no matter what the world throws at them, including time—the very thing people fear yet want.

as your fingers tighten around his attire, rafayel can't help but push himself more into the kiss, causing you to fall backward with him on top of you, his arms planted at each side of your head. opening your eyes, you gasp at the sight above you. there he was, panting with his sweet lips parted, his cerulean and coral eyes dazed, and his broad arms trembling.

he wants more. he always does. but there's one more question you have to ask.

"will you still love me," you swallow shakily. "even if i forget about you?"

his breath hitches.

"r-raf?" you stare at him in concern, raising your hands to hold his face. flinching at the chill of his skin, you rub his cheek with your thumb. why is he so cold? he's never cold, ever. his evol makes sure of that. and his eyes… there was a flash of sorrow in them. "are you okay?"

rafayel inhales deeply before burying himself in the crook of your neck, his arms now tightening around your waist. his voice muffled and the wind strong, you don't hear what he says. "raf?" patting his head, you ask him to repeat what he said.

slowly, rafayel rises, his now-watering eyes meeting yours. you immediately return your hands to his face, trying to wipe his tears away. "raf? what's wrong?"

"nothing," he replies hoarsely. "it's just…"

you gaze at him worriedly, your eyes imploring him to answer quickly so you can take away whatever was paining him. but rafayel doesn't say anything. instead, he brings a hand to your face and strokes your cheek with his thumb. "it's just?" you repeat softly.

a moment of silence passes before he finally answers.

"yes, i will love you even when you forget about me, my beloved bride."

#think this is the angstiest thing i've ever written #then again #the loss of memories is one of #if not #the saddest thing in the world #in my opinion of course #oh rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you #love and deepspace x reader #lads rafayel #lnds rafayel #love and deep space #love and deepspace fic

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existential-crisis-of-the-mind · 1 day ago

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The Bat catches a cold (Bruce Wayne x Reader)

Prompt: The Bat never falls sick, or so he thinks. (2k~ words)

Bruce Wayne does not fall sick.

The man simply can’t afford to. He could not possibly disturb the precarious balance he’s achieved between his double life of running a Fortune 500 company by day and fighting criminal masterminds by night.

So his recent sneezing fits must be a result of allergies, it’s pollen season after all. And those dull headaches he’s be experiencing the past couple of days? Probably just a lack of sleep, the Riddler’s recent antics had resulted in some long and arduous nights.

Today he woke up feeling kind of feverish, body aching all over. But he’s got to push through, there’s an important board meeting he can’t miss. Especially not over something as silly as a common cold.

“Alfred, did you put the kettle on for coffee?” Bruce’s horse voice calls out, as he all but staggers through the hallway on his way to the kitchen. A little caffeine and a painkiller should do the trick.

As he approaches the archway to the spacious open plan kitchen, he blinks away the final wisps of sleep encroaching his vision, only to notice that instead of his trusted butler Alfred its his partner puttering about the kitchen.

“Alfred’s out on an errand, I’ve put the kettle on but it’s gonna be- Oh”

You pause in your words as you look up from the counter, taking in the state of your husband.

Eyes rimmed red, hair scuffled and messy a far cry from the smart slicked gelled back style you’re used to. Also is he still in his pyjamas? It’s ten past nine, he’s usually in his starched white collar and dress pants by now.

“Right. Could you make me a cup of coffee please? I’ve got to leave for the office in ten” he rasps before succumbing to a heavy cough.

“Uh- I don’t think you should be going to work in your current state” you comment as you cross the counter to examine him better.

He shakes his head in hopes of ridding himself of the pounding headache. Bad idea. Now he feels like the room is swimming around him.

As he sniffles through his congested nose, you take in his slouched stance and tired profile. Yeah there’s no way he can go to work in this state.

As you place a hand on his forehead to check his temperature a soft gasp escapes you, he’s burning up.

“Bruce you’re running a high fever, you need to rest” you chastise. Did he really think he could hobble into work in this state?

“I’m fine. Just a bit under the weather” he groans in protest, though his statement was severely undermined by him leaning against the kitchen archway for support.

This was quiet typical of Bruce, he was stubborn as an Ox when it came to admitting he needed rest. You give him an unimpressed stare, you were not buying it.

“Really now? Is that why you’re slowly sliding down the archway? Because you’re the pinnacle of good health?”

That causes him to abruptly stand up, he sways in place for a moment, “I told you I’m fine it’s just a-“

And that’s all he can muster before he begins to fall forward, limbs seemingly in free fall.

“Bruce!” you exclaim as you rush forward to steady him. Though he is much heavier with his limp muscles, so instead your valiant attempt ends up with the both of you slowly going down as a heap onto the floor. But that’s still marginally better than him falling flat on his face so you’ll count it as a win.

“Okay, time to get you back to bed. Can you stand up?” You pat his cheek as his head rests in your lap, hoping that will wake him up from his haze.

“No need for all that, I just need a moment to catch my breath and I’ll be fine”

Though he voices his protest, his hand clumsily lands over your own, relishing the feeling of your cool palm against his hot face.

“Oh of course, you just need a minute to lie on the floor and then you’ll be able to crawl to work. Silly me for not realising” you remark dryly.

Bruce was usually a fan of your sarcasm, except when it was directed at him. He attempted to glare at you in response, but only managed to blink owlishly instead given his current state.

An exasperated sigh escapes you. You knew he was gonna be bull-headed about this, asking for help wasn’t exactly a part of Bruce’s lexicon. So it’s time for a bit of an ultimatum.

“Right so there are two ways we can go about this. Either you let me help you back to the bed where you *will* rest for the remainder of the day” you state, making sure you placed stern emphasis on the resting part of your statement.

His face scrunches at the prospect, the idea of rest foreign and unappealing to him.

“Or if you won’t listen, I guess I won’t have much choice but to get Dick and Jason to carry you to bed”

You had to bite back a laugh at the way his eyes balked at the prospect. He was *not* going to be humiliated like that. He can already envision Jason’s poorly concealed attempt at suppressing his laugher, and he just knew Dick was gonna bring this up at some inopportune moment at a future family dinner.

You can practically see the gears in his head turning, trying to work out another third option where he gets what he wants with his pride remaining intact. However, he doesn’t get very far in his dazed state.

So Bruce decides to go with the lesser of the two evils, one that would leave his ego less bruised.

“… I suppose you can help me to bed” He mumbles, causing you to laugh at his resigned tone.

“You know it’s not a crime to ask for help once in a while. You don’t have to bear all the burdens on your own” you reply as you help prop him up.

Slinging his arm over your shoulder, you begin the trek back to the bedroom. He huffs, unable to meet your eyes.

“I don’t want to worry you” he admits quietly.

He knows you worry enough already. He sees how your brows crease in concern when he comes home after patrol sporting a particularly nasty gash. He recalls the several times he caught you looking at him, quickly masking your anxious expression with a sweet smile. And on multiple occasions he’s found you dozed off on the couch well past midnight, in your attempt to stay up and wait for him until he returned from a mission.

It often causes a pit of guilt in his stomach that he finds it hard to push away. You already put up with so many eccentricities given his vigilante double life, that too all with a warm smile. He’d hate to add to your worries.

“Bruce” you tut, “You ought to know I want to help. You’re always juggling so many things all at once, it feels nice to help out once in a while. Besides, it’s not like I can help much with your nightly escapades” you say with a light laugh as you help him into bed.

But Bruce doesn’t miss the strain in your voice when you mentioned that last bit, you feel like you’re not doing enough, which is so far from the truth. Before he can address it you leave the room, stating you’d get him medicine and a cup of warm tea to help with the cold.

The next few hours seemingly pass in a blur, after his doze of medicine Bruce was out cold, the exhaustion finally catching up with him.

He wakes up in the late afternoon, the morning headache reduced to a dull pain at the back of his head, his voice feeling less hoarse than before.

As he rubs his eyes to rid himself of the remnants of sleep, he notices you curled up on the sofa next to the bed, a book in your hand as you leaf through the pages.

“Morning sleepyhead” you tease as you notice him sitting up on the bed.

“How long was I out?” He asks, voice still gruff with sleep.

“A couple of hours, feel any better?”

“Yeah… were you waiting up for me all this while?”

You give a light shrug, “It was gonna be a slow afternoon for me anyway, thought I might as well spend it keeping an eye on my patient for the day”

Bruce looks aways from your smile, feeling his cheeks flush. If you’d dare tease him about it he’d blame it on his cold no doubt.

There’s a beat of silence before he reaches over to grasp your hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze.

“You do help (Name), more than you know it. I look forward to coming home to you every night, I’m deeply appreciate of the peace you bring in my life” he remarks, referring to your last statement before he fell asleep.

Bruce wasn’t one for bold declarations nor was he a waxing romantic. However, that’s not to say he didn’t cherish you in his life.

Despite all the time you’ve spent together, at times he’s still taken by surprise by your willingness to put up with the whirlwind of chaos that constitutes his life. You provide a sense of warmth and familiarity that he always believed would be out of reach for him. Something he couldn’t afford, given his commitment to his mission under the cowl. A tradeoff he’d have to simply learn to live with.

He pulls your hand closer and kisses your knuckles, unable to voice his jumbled thoughts but hoping to convey the sentiment nevertheless.

You smile at his gesture, as much as you wanted to coo at his gentle words and warm disposition (which was not that common a site), you knew he’d only flush bright red in embarrassment. You decided to save the teasing for another time.

“That’s kind of you to say. You know I’m here for you. We all are” you reassure, referring to the rest of rag tag bunch of a family.

“Well, as much as I love the kids, I wouldn’t describe them as a source of peace, quite the contrary really” he winces as he recalls their latest antics.

A discombobulated performance featuring Tim’s latest handmade gadget malfunctioning and causing a small fire, Damian’s new dagger stunt breaking several pieces of expensive china, a manhunt for Dick’s dog’s who got lost in the Bat Cave and Jason’s attempted DIY hair dye gone wrong causing him to sulk in his room for several days. Alfred came to the rescue as per the usual, putting out both literal and metaphorical fires.

Of course you supported when you could. That is to say when you managed to stop laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of what you were witnessing.

You shake your head with a smile, before suggesting in a teasing tone “Maybe that’s just their way of showing love?”

He snorts at that, “Right by giving me new grey hairs”

He can’t help the bent smile forming on his face as you laugh at his quip. He still marvels at how easy it is between the two of you. How easy you make it for him to feel a sense of calm and security in your relationship.

“What’ve you been reading there?” he asks, his chest warming at how your eyes light up, ands the excitement in your tone as you begin to describe the book to him.

Perhaps it’s not all that bad to need to lean on you once in a while.

Especially not if it means he get to make more precious memories with you.

#batman #bruce wayne #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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averycutesalamander · 15 hours ago

Note

drops this into your inbox yells BOOTHILL refuses to elaborate and leaves

"What do ya mean you're tired, baby?" he croons, a devious tilt to his smirk. "You've barely been goin' for five minutes, and you're already tuckered out?"

"Shut the fuck up," you whine, too lost in your need to sound legitimately intimidating. Your hips and thighs ache ferociously from the motion, but you want to come so desperately that you try to fight the burn; despite the fact that he's the one with his wrists bound in rope above his head, he's edged you for an hour at the very least, bucking into you from below hard enough to make your head spin. Then, he'd slow to a crawl, listening to you beg and babble and whimper as your upcoming orgasm faded into oblivion.

He made a smug comment along the lines of, "I knew you were spoiled, but this is crazy, sweetheart. You're so pampered that ya expect me to do everythin', even when you're the one ridin'. Some cowgirl you are, huh?" And you hate that he knows exactly how to push your buttons, because no matter how hard you fight, it never ends in your favor.

Still, you'd narrowed your eyes and grumbled, "I'll show you spoiled, you smug bastard."

And, naturally, that led you to your current predicament: riding him for any length of time is fucking exhausting.

The hot bursts of pleasure can only override the ache of your muscles for so long, and you haven't even managed to come yet, and god you wish he would just do that thing where he gets tired of your nonsense and flips you over and has his way with you. You suspect that isn't on the menu tonight, though, because he looks perfectly content to utter filth into your ear while he watches you struggle.

"C'mon, doll. It can't be that hard, can it?" he says, and even though your eyes are squeezed shut, you can still see that smug fucking smirk, clear as day. "This is just pitiful, honey. All that big talk, and now ya can't even make yourself come?"

You damn near sob, unable to resist the urge to slump down into the crook of his neck. All you can manage now is the slightest rock of your hips, but the tiny bursts of pleasure as his head grinds into your cervix are mere sparks over damp tinder. Eventually, you can't even handle that motion, and you're left whimpering like a puppy into the cool steel of his neck, panting and quivering and so desperate that you could die.

A shiver runs up your spine when he laughs, his breath hot on your ear. "Poor thing," he coos without a drop of sympathy. "That's all you've got, huh? You're all burnt out?"

"Please," you whine, cutting right to the thick of it, because you already know he's going to make you beg. "Please just fuck me, bee."

He hums in thought, and your neck tingles at the depth of his voice, at the rumble of his chest beneath yours. "Tell me you need me," he says, deceptively light.

"I need you, baby," you keen, caving without hesitation. "Need your cock. Need you to make me come. Please, please-"

"And who do ya belong to?" he growls, just barely nipping at the lobe of your ear.

He just barely grinds up into you, leaving you gasping and moaning. "You! I'm yours, I'm yours, it's all for you-"

You hear the rope snap only half a second before you feel the ruthless grip of his fingers around your hips. In a blink, you're face-down in the pillows, your waist pinned to the mattress, and you feel him starting to slip out of you-

And then he slams home inside of you again, so hard that it punches a moan straight out of your chest. You have only a moment to scramble for a hold against the pillows before he really starts to fuck you, completely prone, with absolutely no hope of escape. His weight prevents you from moving at all, aside from the uncontrollable shuddering that runs through your whole body.

It takes less than a dozen strokes of his hips before you feel the heat rising to a boil once more, curling in your gut, shivering in your cunt. You start babbling and begging and whimpering and god, fuck, you're so close you can feel it in the back of your throat-

The tension snaps, and you clench around him like a vise.

You moan helplessly, shaking like a leaf, hit by wave after wave after wave of pleasure, so thoroughly lost in the undertow that you fear you'll drown. And all the while, his pace doesn't falter in the slightest, dragging it out for longer and longer, and finally, you start to feel the brutal burn of overstimulation creep in.

Your moaning turns ragged and tense, your voice breaking under the pleasure. "Oh- Oh, fuck, this is- It's too much-"

"Well, you're gonna have to cry about it, doll," he purrs, sounding far too pleased with himself. "If I'm doin' all the work, it's only right that I take however much I want from ya, right?"

His next thrust is cruel in its intensity - so ruthlessly efficient that you almost wail. Already, you can feel another peak building in your gut, leaving you shivering underneath him as he takes, and takes, and takes.

He laughs, dark and smoky in your ear. "Yeah, I knew you'd agree, sugar. Now sit still and take it like a good girl, won't ya?"

(It's not like you have any other options.)

#sal.txt #sal.asks #boothill x reader #reader insert #x reader #hsr x reader #yeah this one kinda captivated me lol #something very similar happens in another one of my wips and i considered just posting a bit of that #but that felt lame so here you go lol #fem reader #forgot to tag for this one lol oops

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missbuckyhellfire · 18 hours ago

Text

Cat And Mouse :Emperor Geta (1/?)

Warnings: MANIPULATION (Both ways), The Emperor twins being themselves, Smut, NSFW content, heavy dub/con , Forceful fingering, Flirting, Unwanted advances, some language, heavy drinking, Oral, humping, hair pulling, Long piece (10,000 words!). Message me if I missed anything, Minors Be Gone!

Translations:

Mia Combina: My beloved

Mel: Honey

Hello Everyone! I know I had said it was going to be a One-shot and this is a long piece. However, I feel that it could be completed as a mini series or maybe with a second part. This piece could be a standalone as well, but I feel that it may be left too open ended for some. Also, I love their dynamic so I am wanting to write more. I will post a poll below for people to vote. If the deadline passes, comments in the piece would be appreciated. Miss.BuckyHellfire

The great General of Rome has returned to “celebrate” his victories with the city. Or at least that’s how the twin emperors seen it. The reality was much more concerning for the brothers.

For the past few months, a rider with a black horse would rob from the rich and give their spoils of their crimes to the poor. The citizens of Rome supported the rider and would refuse to say anything about them to the officials or even the emperors. In which unfortunately would cost them their lives. They were on their wits end as they wanted to end this once and for all.

The real reason, the one that the brothers wanted to keep to themselves was that they wanted the General to hunt this thief down and bring them to a prison cell where the emperors would take care of them personally.

However, the night before, the rider tried to strike their own home in Palatine Hill. Unfortunately, Emperor Geta was awake and clothed, unlike his brother in a pile of concubines. He seen the figure rush to the door and viewed how the cloaked rider would take down each of his guards with such grace.

The rider was a trained swordsman. This caused great fear in Geta as he panicked and grabbed his own blade by his night stand. He was going to fight them to save his gold. He wasn’t just going to be robbed like the rest of the people before him.

However, by the time he arrived, the rider was gone, only with a trail of blood to take him to General Acacius’s home. Geta, only in a robe, knew what he had to do.

When the General had arrived to greet the emperors the next morning, Geta had personally invited him and his entire family to join for a great feast at Palatine Hill. He wanted to get answers and he knew he was slowly closing in on his prey.

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

“Brother what are you looking at?”

“Nothing Carcalla”

That was a lie. The taller emperor had glanced around the room as he sipped from his wine glass. Throughout the crowd of his concubines, soldiers, nobles, and servants, he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on her. The young woman that was with General Acacius. No matter how much he tried to wonder his eyes around, he couldn’t help but make eye contact with her over and over again.repeatedly.

A young woman, with dark hair and fair skin. Gold eyeliner was pained on her eyelids that covered her warm but light brown eyes. Her gold lips formed into a smile as she talked to a few guests eager to get a few moments of her time. The people of Rome were like servants at her feet, wanting to talk to her and listen to her sweet voice. Without saying another word, Geta separated himself from his brother and walked over to the growing crowd . The crowd had separated and allowed Geta to pass through to meet with the woman. The general was less than pleased as he placed his arms around her. Geta immediately had chuckled to himself before he spoke.

“Guess I can see why your father hid you, so you wouldn’t get touched as his finest treasure.” He took her hand and kissed it gently. The general’s eyes never left his. “Where’s your wife General?”

“This is my daughter Sabina”. Sabina, this is Emperor Geta.” The general forced a small smile and tried to hide a growl as he heard Geta repeat his daughters name to himself. “She has fallen ill and unable to come today and she sends her regards.”

The emperor took in Sabina’s stola: a vibrant blue with gold accents. Her dark hair was pulled up wearing golden hoops. He seen nothing but innocence in her warm but light brown eyes. He glanced down to her lips as they trembled, intimated by his presence. He took in the oils she wore, they were sweet, the right amount of sweetness that could lead any man to start a war. He did find it odd that the general’s wife wasn’t able to come, but didn’t want to pry just yet, not when he had the opportunity to talk to the general’s daughter.

“Come Sabina, sit with me” Geta had ushered her to go. The general paused and refused to move his hands. He had known Geta long enough that this would just be a simple game for him. He would use his daughter to get closer to him and gods knows what. He was his general already what else would he want from him.

He smirked at the general “you don’t trust me with your greatest gem? I promise to take care of her general.” He pushed the general’s hands off of Sabina and took her to sit down with him.

Sabina’s first instinct was to sit by one of his other concubines out of respect. Her father’s grand speech echoed throughout her head as she had turned around and sat next to a barely clothed concubine. Her father was firm, but kind.

“Before we go in, I want you to know that the Emperors are very persuasive and manipulative they will want to find everything out about you. They are like the gods themselves, but much worse. Promise me, if your called, you keep your mouth shut, keep your secret.”

“I’ll try my best.”

After a few moments, Geta turned to her then shook his head “This wont do.”

“What wont Emperor?” Sabina wasn’t sure what she was talking about. He was not too keen about whatever it was due to his narrowing of his eyebrows. Geta didn’t think a gem like her should be with a bunch of other slaves and toys.

“Come sit with me here.” Geta had patted on his leg. His brother took immediate notice of his actions and leant over to his brother.

“Brother, you can’t be serious”

“Deadly, brother, deadly. Come on Sabina” He patted on his leg again. Not thinking she had much of a choice, she had plopped on his lap and he smirked. He took in her scent again as he chuckled. Now all eyes were on the Emperor, including the General who started to feel a sense of guilt. The concubine had passed a tray of grapes and cheeses to Sabina. She had looked at them for a second taking in the sweet smell of the grapes and cheeses. It was a treat to get this food when it came around.

“Don’t be shy mel, feed me.” Geta, like a snake, wrapped his arms around her as she grabbed the plate and pricked a grape from the platter. His brown eyes watched her as she waited for him to open his mouth. He did nothing of the sort and only mumbled a “tease me”. She had placed the grape on his lips and began to graze the fruit around his lips until he would open his mouth and she plopped it in. He chewed it and swallowed. “give me another Sabina.”

She listened, and gave him each grape until the very last one on a frail branch. He took the small grape into his hands and grazed it against her lips and watched them quiver a bit.

"Open up"

Sabina opened her mouth and he plopped it inside. Snickering, he placed his hands around her neck gently so he could feel her swallow the fruit. She swallowed gently, but Geta found it absolutely fascinating feeling her throat muscles move.

He turned and grabbed his glass of red wine, only half full now. He snickered and pressed the glass against her lips as his grin kept getting wider.

She parted her lips again as he let go of her neck, but refused to let his eyes off of it. He was going to start asking questions, eventually.

He gently tipped the glass so the sweet fluid would enter her mouth. Sabina took every last drop in the cup, with the feeling of the emperors hands in her hair. His hands were soft and gentle, only when he wanted them to be.

Sabina, the fluid was so sweet and intoxicating. She never had a fluid so tasty in her life. She wanted more until it was gone, which had left her with a bit of guilt and curiosity on what the emperor would do next. Geta shook his head. He was impressed how fast it went down, but now he has an idea.

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

4 empty glasses were by the emperors chair. None were drunk by the emperor. Sabina thought she could handle a few, but the wine was rather intoxicating. She looked messed up, her hair was messy and her stola's sleeve was loosely over her shoulder as she would let out soft giggles from the affects of the wine. In return Geta would laugh in return. Carcalla watched the entire scene happening, but wasn't too sure what his brother's intentions were with the Generals daughter. Geta did have a collection of concubines to please him but Sabina seems to take a different effect on him.

Geta took in the sight of Sabina, vulnerable and possibly with a loosened tongue. If she wasn't a general's daughter, he would have offered her to be a concubine. Yet, he needed answers.

"So Sabina" he snaked his arms around her tightly, close enough for her to smell his body. "I'm sure your familiar with the rider that's been stealing in Rome."

Sabina closes her eyes for a moment then opens them to meet the eyes of her father from the other end of the room. Panicked, he mouths the words "lie".

She turns to the emperors dark intimidating eyes as he watched every feature of her, seeing if there's something that could be read from her.

"Yes Emperor, I heard tales of the rider who killed some of the emperors men and tried to steal from them. They steal from the rich and give to the poor, what of them?" Sabina looked down as Geta's lips twitched a bit from their response.

The palace didn't give message to the people about the supposed break in. So she knew someone who would do such a thing and would tell her. He began to rub her back a bit and tried to become more soft in his voice.

“Yes, it’s a tragedy, I ran out of my house as soon as I heard the commotion. I was ready to swing my blade at him.” Geta leant to her ear and moved his hands to her shoulders in hopes to ease some sort of confession out of her. Yet before she could speak, the general came to Geta, who was rather distracted.

“ I wish to bring my daughter Sabina home and I will meet you at nightfall to discuss the matters of the thief” His eyes glanced at the glasses and his daughter, who seemed to be feeling the affects of the wine.

Geta paused for a moment and glanced at Sabina. He didn’t want to let her go just yet. “Nonsense, I wish to have her as a guest for a couple nights in the finest suite of my palace. Your wife and yourself are invited as well, but I may be rather distracted by your daughter.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. People will talk and…”

“Does it look like I care, I am a emperor of Rome, you listen to me, my wish wasn’t a request” Geta shut him off as Carcalla let out a soft chuckle in response . The general nodded and muttered “ My wife is ill so it will be just you and my daughter. I will visit to discuss the matter you wish to talk to me about.”

The emperor clapped his hands together “Perfect! You don’t need to worry about us at all I will take good care of her.”

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

To Sabina, this was only part of the job.

First was to lure him in by making herself seem like the perfect servant to the elder brother. He seemed like the more sane, more power hungry and calmer one. He was the logical one in the two but of course was still a threat.

She regretted letting it slip about her past endeavors at Palatine Hill. She knew that she shouldn’t have spoken out about it and has put her family in danger.

Regardless, Geta had ushered the guests out quickly after exchanging some private matters with her father. No surprise that Sabina assumed he was asking him to take the legendary thief down. Little does he know that the general knows of his daughters adventures and wouldn’t dream of ending it by turning her in. He was the one who supports her anyways.

Carcalla had turned to her during the exchange of words and chuckled. “Don’t get too attached to this lifestyle your going to go back home as soon as Geta is finished with you”

“I am here to serve the emperor and will return home when he sees fit.” It was such a kiss ass attitude but she needed to get on both of their good side if she was to go venturing in the palace on her own.

“Such a fuckin toy, you will fit right in during your stay” The younger emperor shook his head.

Sabina tilted her head at him, toying with him back. “Toy? I don’t understand, my father spoke very rarely on those subject matters.”

Carcalla stood up from the throne and glued his blue eyes with her brown ones. “Don’t toy with me girl. I know your type, your invitation to join our family will be declined soon enough. My brother will come to his senses, you may be nothing more than a concubine to him.” He spat at her.

She hid the smile with a frown and a nod of the head. “ I can promise you that I’m not who you thought I am.” She was so close, she just needed to play along a bit longer and the jewels will be hers.

“We will see about that.” He muttered as he looked down to his feet as Geta returned and waved the general off. Sabina’s father gave one last look to her before he left through the doors. Sabina stood up and Geta wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind, taking in her scent from her hair.

“I’m going to show our guest their room for the next few days. You are welcome to join us.” Geta’s tone wasn’t exactly welcoming, it didn’t sound like he wanted to have his younger brother to join them. Carcalla had mumbled a “No.” before Geta had took a step back and took Sabina’s hand and lead her down the hall.

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

Sabina admired the room Geta had granted her by the doorway with him by her side. He watched her intently as she took in the sight of her room.

He kept stating he knew it wasn’t much, but Sabina knew that it was a lie. He knew this was the nicest room that she was ever given. She was admiring the silky bedsheets and lovely balcony with the perfect view of the sunset. The sweet smells of lemon oils had flared the room as well.

However, her eyes grew large at the bucket of swords that were placed in her chambers. Geta meant to have those removed as he didn’t think it was right for a lady to be so close to blades, as it may hurt her. Geta’s eyebrows furrowed as she was walking towards the barrel and picked up a silver blade with fine rubies engraved on them. She knew she was going to take this blade home when this is all over. Geta, shocked and walked over to her and took her hand with the blade on it.

“Do you think this is lady like to be handling blades like this?” Geta tilted his head, his eyes expressing concern, but demanding she drop the blade.

“My father is the general, he taught me how to use blades.” Sabina rolls her eyes. “I can handle myself.”

Geta blinks twice. “ I don’t blame your father for training you to use blades, but your under my wing now. I am sure that your father would appreciate you being of sound mind here.” He snaps his fingers and two guards take the blades away, while Geta yanks the blade from her hand. Before the last blade leaves, he takes one : a gold blade with diamonds engraved into it. He pauses for a moment then sighs, seeing the shock in Sabina’s eyes.

“If you are to find a husband in Rome, you will need to learn to submit. I am sure that your father taught you that.” Geta leans down to her ear in a whisper. He places the sharp weapon on her shoulder as the blades leaves a small cut on her. She doesn’t move as she stays firm in place. “Remember your place, and to not keep secrets from your emperors.”

Sabina nods in the comment as he moves the blade closer to her neck. He tilts his head, watching her throat bob in response. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but he says nothing. He only admires her beauty in the moment.

“So tell me, what do you really know about this thief? You seem to know more than you lead on.” His eyes moves to her light brown eyes checking for any sense of vulnerability or weakness or any hint of the thief’s identity. To him, a woman knowing how to fight well was odd, she was the only swords woman that he known.

Sabina, trying to hide her identity looks into his eyes and gets lost for a second. Why did he look so good but done the wrong things? She had to make up some sort of story fast or else Geta’s kindness may not last long. “ I met him a few months ago.”

The blade was pushed harder against her neck. “Elaborate.” His voice turned into a growl.

“I, uh- met him by a cart by the Colosseum. He was talking about a recent adventure to the locals and I decided to listen in to hear more about it. He and I didn’t really talk about things but he was ambitious.”

His gaze softened a bit “Did you see a glimpse of his face?”

“No, he was wearing a cloak.”

Silence swallowed the room for a second then Geta dropped the blade to the ground. He examined Sabina’s face, he only seen fear in it. However, he thought it was his approach to it. Something told him that there was more to be shared about this but he decided to not pry for now. The emperor admired her for a moment before grabbing her chin. Both of their eyes were glued onto each other for a moment. Brown eyes looking upon to brown eyes. One pair firm with determination to keep her secret while the other pair wanted to expose it.

“Your welcome to stay here for as long as you need to.” He muttered as he placed his soft lips onto her own. He paused for a moment, taking in the taste of her lips. Sabina took in the taste of wine on his lips as well. Geta mumbled something about taking her for a feast later and flashed a smile at her before leaving.

Sabina noticed that Geta forgot to bring the blade with him. However, she was in shock with the emperors actions and determination to figure out her secret. If the kiss was part of the plan or not, she doesn’t care. But she can admit he was a good kisser.

Venus, she needs help.

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

Geta met with his brother immediately afterwords to share information about his encounter with Sabina and the information about the thief that they are trying to hunt down.

They were both in Carcalla’s chambers alone as he was explaining his suspicions on Sabina.

“I think there’s more to what she is saying. She is a swordswoman after all, only the insane women are trained with a blade.” Carcalla mumbled.

“Remember brother her father is the general, he may have wanted to keep her safe. Eve though one day she will likely be married off.” Geta paused for a moment trying to understand the general’s logic. “Do we know who Sabina’s mother was? “

Carcalla shrugged. “Words go around that he fucked a goddess when he was a young soldier. Would make sense for her beauty, but I think it may be a common whore after too much drinking.”

Geta took in Carcalla’s words in for a moment. How the people would gravel at their feet for Sabina. Her kind smile and skills in swordsmanship. Her overall alluring appearance and personality. It would make sense, but just this alone wouldn’t be enough proof. He knew that he wanted her, even though she does appear stubborn in her own ways.

“How would you feel a alignment with the general brother.” Geta looked at his wine glass for a moment then looked back at him.

Carcalla laughed at him. “You can’t be serious about this brother; I am not going to marry that woman!”

“No, you don’t have to, because I want to.” Geta looked at one of his guards. “Send word out in the morning for the audience of the general.”

“You were suspicious about them now you want to marry the girl? I don’t understand you brother.”

“No,no. She is beautiful and will give me lovely children yes. But it will keep him close until she finally speaks the truth. Maybe more seduction is needed tonight.”

Carcalla nods with the plan then looks away with a wide grin across his face. “Brilliant”

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

Sabina was on the ground praying to the gods for the night that was about to come. She needed to make sure that she would be able to get enough gold to feed the temple that was slowly needing more and more donations. Sure nobles and the emperors would visit but a lot of them would provide with other forms of loyalty to this goddess within their bedrooms.

“Venus, mother, please help me with this task. I am doing this for the people of Rome and to keep areas of worship open. I am sure you would rather have a beautiful garden in your name mother rather than the other offerings that are often given to you.” Sabina was referring to the emperors and their concubines. Word has went around that the brothers were loyal followers of Venus, but yet made any approach to visit her temple.

There was no response. As always. She always figured this out. Maybe her father was insane that he told her that he slept with Venus that one night under the evening stars. She didn’t say anything to him until the day Sabina was born then just left her on his doorstep. The general whenever he was asked would say it was from a one night stand and her mother is dead.

However, as time went on, she began to grow in beauty. This is something that was never explicitly addressed but people would come to see her and her generosity. When the twin brothers took over Rome, she felt the need to do more. She wanted to do whatever was needed to ensure that the people of Rome would survive their ruthlessness. So she decided to become a thief of the night and take from the rich to give to the poor, so she could ensure their own wellbeing each night. This eventually went to providing generous donations to the churches as well. Whoever encountered her promised to keep her secret.

She sighed then glanced at the attire that was given to her for the evening diner. She should have known it was going to be a really revealing stola. This one was a red one with a wide enough opening on the top to expose her larger breasts. She sighed heavily then noticed that there were no forms of jewelry to hide her breasts.

So this is what Geta wants.

Sabina sighs. Geta was an attractive man no doubt about it, but she has never been touched by anyone before. From what she seen and heard the entire process looks painful and frankly demeaning to women. She never seen the point of doing it. She honestly planned to keep it until someone worth her while would marry her, or at least offer marriage.

Plus, to Sabina, he seemed demanding and controlling and would likely give her limited rights within the palace. However, she wasn’t going to let Geta see her body that easily. She found some of the makeup provided to her and found gold powder. She painted her nipples with that color in hopes to cover them up enough. She touched up for gold makeup look then waited for the emperors to call her for dinner.

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

She smiled throughout the entire meal. She was rather thankful that she wasn’t close enough for Geta to see her sweat across her body. There were the finest foods available in Rome for her to eat from breads, wines to cheeses.

During the entire meal, Geta was watching her intently and so was his brother. All three of them were silent during their dinner in the gardens until Geta finally spoke.

“Sabina that dress compliments you, but didn’t expect you to make it modest.”

“I did so we could focus on the food and not other matters.” Sabina slipped out which gave two disapproved looks back.

“You don’t need to cover up for me Sabina.” Geta states. His tension turned into a smile and he stood up from his chair and approached her hoping to get a better view of her. He was now inches away from her as he took her hand and kissed it firmly. “You are to be my wife as the gods wish.”

Sabina blinked twice. She was not expecting this, she honestly thought he just would want to fuck her and kick her out, like Carcalla said. She glanced at the brother who only exchanged her with a smug grin, taking pleasure in her reaction.

“Wife, my emperor, I didn’t think it would happen. What would the people of Rome think of this? You are marrying the General’s daughter.”

“Would be more ideal than you think Sabina. You are loved by the people. My brother and I have eyes, we aren’t as loved as much. With you, you will help us get Rome’s support. You can help us see what the people of Rome need while we keep our power.” Geta suggested. Sabina believed everything until the last part about helping the people, Sabina knew that they wouldn’t do that.

“Sure helping the people, that means losing some of your wealth.” She spat. As soon as those last words came out of her mouth, Geta’s hands wrapped around her throat not tight, but as a warning to her.

“This offer is too good to refuse. You will help us. The gods have made it so.”Geta warned under his breath. “Regardless of what you say, you will be my wife.”

Sabina had to think for a moment. Marriage would mean putting up with Geta for a bit until someone decides to kill him and his brother. Which at the pace they are going wont be for much longer. And it would also mean unlimited gold to smuggle to people in need. Which would help Rome.

“Regardless, I guess I have to accept.”

Geta release her and smiled. “Excellent, now if you follow me I will show you where you will be staying.”

“I thought I was staying in the guest room” Sabina muttered.

“Oh no, your staying with me now.” That caused a ocean of anxiety flood her stomach. She was about to be completely alone with the emperor in his chambers.

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

The emperor opened the door to his chambers. He was quiet for a moment and allowed Sabina to take in the room. It was a rather lovely room, more expensive than the guest room that she was in earlier. With the silk, there was fur pillows and a thick blanket on top. His wardrobe was open and shown how lovely it was with the fine fabrics. His room smelt of oils, wine and cheese. Around them were a ray of windows separated by pillars.

“It’s a lovely room” Sabina finally says.

“It’s ours now.” Geta assured as he gestured Sabina to follow him to the bed to take in the soft blankets. She took them in and sighed at the comfort. He nodded at the guards to be dismissed as the two could talk. His eyes were glued onto her lips. “Tell me, what do you like doing for fun? Besides sword play?”

“Well I do like riding horses, I prefer riding with Luna, my horse.”

“I like riding horses too, what type of horse are they?” Geta sincerely was interested in the horse as it was nice to see that they had common interests. However, he shouldn’t be surprised as she was the generals daughter.

“She’s a black mare, rather sweet and even tempered.” Sabina cut herself off right there. Remembering the legends they say about her and her legendary black horse. She hoped that Geta didn’t catch on. But with the look that she saw in his eyes, she knew that he did.

He was no fool. The black horse, following the mare to the generals home. She was a skilled swords women. His jaw tightened as he tried to hide his suspicions of her. There was only one thing left to do and with no one else around, he can find out for sure.

“Take off your clothes.” Geta stated plainly.

“ I am pure emperor I…” Sabina tried to push it off against his suspicions and tried to change the subject. She didn’t feel ready for this at all but she felt a firm grip on her shoulders.

“Don’t make me repeat again. I want to see all of you!” Geta stated as he tugged on her stola. She jumped a bit before she stepped back to remove the stola. Geta’s eyes were hungry, watching her form be revealed to him. She realised what he was doing and pushed her hair back so her back wound would not be revealed. Yet, she was completely bare in front of him, except for the gold makeup that covered her nipples.

“Turn around.” He instructed. She did as he instructed, and her ass was in view to him. His eyes took her in and admired all of the curves of her body, the moles and scars that were left on her back.

“You have a lot of scars on your moles as well.” He commented. Sabina took a deep breath and had to think fast.

“Everyone trained with a blade have some scars to show their loyalty and determination of the craft emperor.” She responded.

“Fair ,” he grabbed her hair and then he saw it. A fresh blade wound stitched up and reeking of the scent of old blood. He couldn’t get his eyes off it. He literally has his thief in his hands. He pushed her down as he got a small whimper from her he caged her in.

The cat finally caught the mouse.

“Emperor I….”

“IT was you!” Geta spat. “I wanted to deny that a beauty like you could do such a crime to Rome yet here we are!” His hand was one again around his neck. “Explain yourself or I will see to it that your execution is going to be very painful.”

Sabina had to collect her thoughts for a moment. She only had one shot at this and to basically tell her life story to the emperor is no easy feat. Also, she had to persuade him to let her live as well. She didn’t want to bring out her maternal parentage to him but at this point she may not have a choice.

“Why would you do that? The citizens of Rome would revolt. People love me for what I do. I provide to them what they clearly need. You lack the knowledge and ability to understand that your people are starving and dying because of your foolishness. I came in to help them when you and your speakers of Rome are more focused on military warfare. You are also in conflict with with a demigod of Venus and I do not think that you want to anger my father who is beloved by everyone in Rome.” Sabina felt bratty for saying it like that but if she gets killed for it, so be it.

“You have some nerve for saying that.” His grip on her throat tightened.

“You must hear it.”

Silence.

He seen her the way she truly was now. A woman who was looking out for her people and went through great lengths to do it. However, she was his enemy, and nothing will help from being punished for her crimes. “Venus is your mother.” Geta interjected. “The goddess of love, beauty, desire, sex, fertility, prosperity and victory. Should have known.” He placed a faint smile on his lips. “Your mother has yet to grace me with any good thing in my life. Lots of sex, beauty and victory are the only thing your supposed mother has blessed me with. Yet, I want a wife, and you are in a unfortunate situation mia columba, you are going to give me a child if you like it or not.”

The words stung to her as he let go of her neck. He wasn’t going to let her walk from this. Absolutely not. He shouted for the guards to arrest her, which was almost immediately.

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

Sabina was alone in a cell, hearing the sounds of shouting and smelling the smoke from the people of Rome rioting outside of her cell. Word went around fast in the city and everyone was there to support her.

Geta was on the upper floor, watching everyone riot for the freedom of the demigoddess. As soon as word came, the general had rushed to his daughter’s aid but was immediately stopped by the emperor who was fuming towards him as well. The general had pleaded for his daughters life, even offering to be charged instead. However, his fury was too intense and he wanted to watch the two suffer.

“Please she’s my daughter, take me instead!”

“No! You should have watched her more closely and now she is going to be punished.” Geta snapped back at him. “To think she was going to be the empress of Rome.”

The general looked at Macrinus, a advisor to the emperors. The look was a simple plea for him to let her go. The advisor nodded and cleared his throat. “You still could still marry her.”

“Repeat?” Geta’s brows furrowed.

“You are not getting a good reputation with Rome. You need someone to provide a good image. Sure she was a thief, but she is loved by the people of Rome. Killing her will only result in your downfall. Perhaps even tonight with your head rolling down the steps of this building. But if you marry her, and make sure she keeps her public appearances, your people will be on their feet. Having a demigoddess as a wife will only bring more power., even though you hate her mother.” He stated and the general hated the proposal, but he didn’t have much choice.

“Gain reputation and use her as a puppet to gain power from Rome.” Geta summarized his grin grew wide. “Bring me to the cell, I wish to speak to her.”

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

Sabina was alone in her cell with Geta. She was still nude from earlier and stunk of the odor within the cell. She immediately spat on the floor as Geta chuckled. He slowly walked towards her, watching her tremble. She refused to look at him, she knew this can’t be good.

“Oh my sweet Sabina, the sun to my moon. You will live to see another day.” His hand had cusped her face gently. Brown eyes are now looking into brown watery eyes. “No more tears in this cell you are going home.” His voice was like honey, it drew her in.

She lit up as she heard those words. She thought of her home with her father and his wife. The warm pastures and her horse Luna waiting for her. How she would ride again. “Is my father here to take me home?”

“Why would your father return you home? I, your husband will.” He stated proudly, his hand now going lower down to her neck, feeling her pulse. “We are still to be married.”

“You have forgiven me of my crimes?” She squeaked as he moved his hands lower to one of her breasts. He didn’t grab them, rather let his fingers trace her nipple.

He sighed. “Forgiveness is such as light word, you are to be my wife still, the Emperess of Rome.” His hands lowered to her waist, he pulls her in to feel her body against his. She tried to squirm away he pulled onto her tighter. “Resist my offer and you will see your mother sooner than you think.” It was in a gentle tone, but it was indeed a threat. His hands lowered down her body to her ass. His ringed hand slapped her ass so hard that it was heard a few cells over, followed by Sabina’s high pitch scream.

“Disobedience is punishment and if frequently done, death.” He reached to find her core and inserted a finger inside, grinning when he heard the breathy gasp from Sabina’s lips. Her mouth was open, she was vulnerable now. Geta found her weak point. He held it there for a moment before he began to slowly move it in and out. This only caused her to make more noise.

“Please stop!” She pleaded.

“Please Stop!” Geta mimicked. “No! Please stop stealing! I wouldn’t have patience for you if you had no use to me. But you do and I command you to listen and submit to me.” He moved his pace faster inside of her.

“You have no knowledge on my powers Geta.” She tried to warn but instead became breathless due to the amount of pleasure that Geta was giving her.

“I may not, but I know how to persuade a powerful woman.” He growled in her ears. She had no reaction but to tug on his strawberry blonde hair as he curled his fingers inside of her as she felt a small knot start to form. “By making them feel something.”

Geta’s eyes darkened as he watched her. So vulnerable, so submissive, yet so powerful. She was puddy in his hands if he could prove himself to her. He watched as she climaxed, her world shattered around her. She took heavy breaths and Geta smiled even wider than before. “I think we are going to make a good team.”

Sabina had no choice but to nod, regardless of how good the fingering was. She wanted to go home. For now, she only wanted to get off the peak of pleasure that Geta put her into.

“What’s the matter, never been touched inside before?” Geta cocked a brow.

Sabina was silent as he removed his finger and pressed it against his lips to have a taste. Once her juices had touched his tongue he let out a soft moan. He complimented on the tastes of lemon and sweets. ‘Speak up.”

“No Emperor.” Sabina said. Geta didn’t say anything else before walking out of the cell, waving his guards over to bring her back to the palace.

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

Geta and Sabina had a extravagant, very public wedding ceremony the next day. Given with the amount of time they had. Geta wanted to at least make sure that the wedding would meet to the emperors standards. He ensured that there were women serving food, wine and entertainment. He invited all of the highest nobles to the ceremony, including her family. Sure it was a last minute ceremony, but Geta had standards.

Sabina was decorated in makeup that matched Geta’s. Her eyes were darkened with a smoky shadow with a tint of golden eyeliner. Her lips were left bare with a faint lip oil covering them. Her dress was white with golden accents all over it and her hair was pulled up to reveal her neck. This didn’t go without notice that a few tears would shed on her face. She wanted to go home. She didn’t want any of this. However, she was caught and had to face the consequences.

Geta was in a matching white robe and makeup done the same. He only seen this as a duty and a way to serve punishment to the family. He would admit that she was an attractive being, but that was only a bonus of the situation.

The ceremony was very short and brief, the emperor had no choice to. The citizens were protesting outside of the door, trying to set their goddess free. So Geta made sure the ceremony was enough to legally bind them and that was it. He wouldn’t want to loose his head today, he just wanted to have enough proof with Sabina was his wife, his empress.

When vows were exchanged, all Sabina could do was nod. She had nothing else to say. Her eyes kept looking into the sad eyes of her father and his wife. The three of them knew they were in trouble, and this was their punishment. She wondered what her mother thought of all this.

Once all was said and done, Emperor Geta gave Sabina a kiss on the lips. This kiss was more harsh, as though it was sealing the contract that was implemented between the two of them. It didn’t last longer that a few moments before Sabina pushed away. Carcalla, who was the prime witness of the ceremony stood by his brother and shouted “ALL HAIL EMPEROR GETA, HIS WIFE EMPRESS SABINA AND EMPEROR CARCALLA”.

The crowd repeated the praises three times before realising how silent the crowd was outside. It was almost as though they given up and were preparing to leave. Geta and Carcalla smiled at each other, giving each other a knowing look.

A female concubine came to Geta with a cake of emmer, of the wheat kind. Geta took it from her hands and watched her walk away. He realised Sabina wasn’t make eye contact with him so he tried to lovingly get her to look at him, while it was being rather forced. He broke the emmer above her head and he watched it crumble around her.

As they were on the ground taking the cake around them, Geta wrapped his hand on hers. “Remember your mine, you need to play the part.”

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

The rest of the wedding went by smoothly, there were various guests congratulating the couple that were hardly separated. Geta had his arm wrapped around her the entire time, ensuring that no one had a plan to steal his new empress away.

Her father and his wife came by to “congratulate” the couple but only discussed plans for future meetings. From her father’s eyes, she could tell that he far from approves of this match and hopes something dreadful will happen to him in the future so she would be free. Through a short discussion, Geta had sent them to talk with the other officials.

Geta had to excuse himself for a moment then Carcalla had quickly replaced him with a breath of strong wine and a fresh cup in hand. He was quite giggly, which had concerned Sabina.

“Welcome to the family sister, I had my doubts but you survived.” He shrugged. Sabina politely smiled at him, sensing the uneasy tension between the two. They hardly spoke to each other, yet there was strong tension.

“I suppose it is safe to call you brother, but I prefer Carcalla. It is however whatever you wish.” Sabina bowed her head.

“I prefer either. But I also wanted to propose.” Carcalla grinned as he took a step closer to her. “Just because your married to my brother, doesn’t mean you can’t warm my bed.”

“Excuse me?” Sabina hardly choked out.

“Geta can be busy and women, such as yourself should be treasured. This marriage may be of convivence and power but that a women should not be abandoned.” His voice was lower then before he could add onto his point, Macrinus placed a hand on his shoulder. Sabina never met the advisor up close. He made eye contact and smiled at her for a moment.

“I think you should go and sit down emperor, the entertainment is about to start. “ He ushered him to sit down. While hesitant at first, Carcalla sat next to his concubines.

“I apologize empress. Sometimes your husband’s brother can be quite imaginative.” He smiled at her. “You are quite the beauty, so mysterious and so strong. The heart of a rebel thief of Rome” He muttered, taking a sip from his glass.

Sabina sighed. Of course he knew who she was before this entire thing. “Macrinus, how should I address you, high advisor Macrinus, or….”

“Just Macrinus. It is I who should be calling you the highest of honors.” He grinned as he kissed the front of her hand. “For I am just your servant, rebellious Emperess.”

“Macrinus, it is an honor to meet you. I….”

Geta snuck up behind her and wrapped his arm around her once again. “She is no longer a rebel, she is my wife and one day, she will provide me with heirs to Rome to provide order.” His grip tightened on her and Macrinus had noticed immediately. The advisor mumbled a “very well” before glancing at Sabina, providing a final bow and walked away.

Something told Sabina she was going to be talking again to him real soon.

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

The ceremony ended slowly as the guests left to their homes or rented rooms respectfully. Geta and Sabina personally thanked everyone to this joyous occasion.

Only that it wasn’t joyous to either of them.

Once everyone left, Carcalla excused himself with some concubines as they went off to their own endeavours as he called it. Carcalla’s eyes, however didn’t leave her as he left. Geta let out a heavy sigh as soon as it was the two of them.

He closed his eyes for a moment just to take in the peace. “Finally, it is over.”

“I suppose it is, I guess that people of Rome will be at your feet as I am your bride.” Sabina looked down at her feet. She knows what is to come, her responsibilities and expectations but she wasn’t sure what was to become of her today.

“They will be, with you allied with me, adopting our customs. Your going to be a powerful empress.”He said, placing the palm of his hand under her chin. She looked up at him as he gave a smug smile. “You are not a prisoner here, but rather my wife. I expect you to behave as much and to be honest with me.”

All Sabina could do was nod. She knew that if he tried anything, the people of Rome would revolt. She only wanted to be at peace, and only take what her people needed.

Geta then took her by the hand and lead them to their chambers. Sabina had felt her heart start pacing. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for this, for anything regarding her marriage duties. Yet, she knew it was expected of her.

He closed the door behind her then he smiled at her. He reached to remove her robe, then he stopped. He seen the fear in her eyes and realised that only one party would enjoy it. He recalled the events from the night before and sighed.

The Emperor couldn’t do this, she wasn’t ready or even wanted to do it. He sighed and took off his ceremonial robes and looked at Sabina, who still refused to look at him.

“You know we don’t have to do this.” He said in a low tone.

“We must it’s part of customs….” Sabina began but Geta shushed her.

“I know, but we don’t have to. You are the Emperess, whatever you say happens with exceptions.” He muttered, reminding her of her place. He kissed her hand and waited for her response. He knew that she was his, but he didn’t want to force her.

“I.. don’t believe I am ready yet to partake in such activities.” Sabina said after a short pause. Geta nodded and understood what she meant. She then cleared her throat “However, I did enjoy the activity that we partook last night.”

Geta blinked twice. He was going to apologize. He knew he was too forceful and aggressive towards her in the cell. He knew that it was his rage that consumed him, but now that he has her, he can watch her very carefully.

“I may prefer it a bit intense when it comes to pleasure.” She leans to his ear and whispers. She was insanely nervous, but she did like how he made her feel. Maybe she liked being treated like that, whose to say. But there was something that grew between her legs after that night. She wanted more, but she was afraid.

Geta’s eyes widened at her confession. Hearing a woman, say that was news to him. Sure, he had his concubines, where he could go for hours railing them from the back, hearing them wail in pleasure. But he was a bit surprised. He mumbled a “forgive me Venus” before he began kissing her neck.

Sabina felt the Emperor’s lips on her neck. She let out a soft whimper from the sense of ecstasy from it. There were parts of her that told her to run away to hide but other parts of her ensured her that she was safe with him. She also had to play the game as well, she still had to help her people.

Geta grabbed her by her hips and began to walk her to the bed, taking his time with it. His lips never left her neck as his lips crawled to her collarbone. She had now idea how far from the door she moved until she felt the bed from the back of her knees. She had felt him push her down on the soft mattress and she had a moment to relax from the soft fabrics. The two looked at each other for a moment before he began to take off her ritual stola, once again admiring her body.

“You are made by the gods, blessed by them.” He muttered as he flicked his tongue against her nipple, his lips curling as he seen how she squirmed by his touch. Her mouth gasped open as he let out a soft groan against her nipple. He began sucking it, testing the waters, she let out a loud moan. He grazed the sides of her body, taking her all in.

His lips trailed down to her stomach then admired her pussy, and admired it like a work of art. His brown eyes kept looking at her, watching her reaction. He liked it rough sure, but he wanted to make sure she was going to enjoy it as well. Any trace of pain, he was going to back out. The last thing he would want is Venus, who already hates him to curse him for doing wrong to her daughter.

If she was her child.

Geta took the chance and licked her pussy. It was a quick swipe, and Sabina squealed in response. He took a moment to take it in then did it again, with a similar response from her. All he was doing was test the waters and tasting her pussy. She was divine, even by her taste. He had to have more, so he began to devour her pussy.

Sabina felt strange, but in a good way. She was full of pleasure, and it felt insanely good on herself. She felt a glow around her body as she had an emperor eating her out. She felt insanely powerful with this man completely at her mercy. She wrapped her legs around him, which only made him dive further into her pussy. He muttered how her pussy tasted like the lemons he tasted the previous night in only which he would chuckle with himself. She felt a sense of pleasure that was ongoing then suddenly it vanished with the absence of his tongue.

Before she could say anything, Geta flipped her to her stomach. There was a pause, and the subtle sound of his robes being dropped. All Sabina did was shake her head then he nodded in understanding.

“I see.” The emperor muttered. There was a short period of silence. The emperor was a man of his word, and he didn’t want to scare off his new bride too soon. However, he wanted to play around with her. He walked to the corner of his bed then stood up. His eyes not loosing contact with her. His brown eyes, once full of light were dark.

“Sit on my lap.” He said sternly. Sabina felt her heart drop at the site of the emperor of Rome. He was once so proud and dashing in his outfits. Now, he is bare, vulnerable to her, asking to be tormented by her. She glanced at his cock that had curly strawberry blonde hairs attached. She has seen one before, but nothing like this. Her cheeks turned red as she watched his chest heave.

It wasn’t a suggestion, so she hopped onto his upper thigh as she took in his scent. The main smell was heavy wine and the oils he put onto himself prior to the ceremony. She got herself comfortable then she felt him begin to move his leg up and down. A grin spread across his face as he watched her tits jiggle from the movement. He repeated it again and noticed how she grinned in response to the pleasure.

“Move.” He commanded. “Up and down my leg.”

She did as was asked of her. Her pussy moved up and down his leg, taking in the feeling. When she was going to lean in to kiss his neck, she felt his hand cusp her dark hair and pull her face back. She gasped at the feeling but her eyes met with his.

“Eyes on me at all times mia Colmbia” He hissed under his breath. She nodded as she made sure to make eye contact with him. She does have power, but even it does have limits.

Brown eyes meet brown eyes again. No matter how much force, or aggression of movement, she was lost in the moment. Even just for a second, she felt invincible, the power she had and how she was desired by one of the emperors of Rome. Even with her crimes, she wasn’t sure if it made her more attractive to him and this was his way of punishing her.

Regardless, Sabina liked it.

She blushed as the movements got more and more intense. Her knot in her stomach was blooming. Once again, once she felt her height of pleasure peak, he pushed her aside, away from his leg. His tongue stuck out and curled to the side as a wide grin spread across.

“Remember, your my wife, I can only make you finish.” He scoffed as Sabina at first wanted to resort to violence. A simple slap across the face would do, but no. She knew better than that. Instead, she needed to play her cards right with him. Just like he is doing with her. With this game of cat and mouse they are playing, it really does lead to the question who is the cat and who is the mouse.

“Right, sorry husband.” Sabina muttered. Geta nodded in agreement and excused himself. Sabina thought he was going to spend the night with his concubines. She did not want to care, but somehow she did.

It was the perfect time to take some looming jewels.

She got out of her bed and went straight to work, in hopes of taking what she can, bring it to the chapel and donate it. If her husband questions it, she will say it was a donation to the church that clearly needed it. However, she will know the truth.

What was he going to do? Kill her?

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

Geta stood by the window, with a wine glass in hand taking in some thoughts while admiring the stars.

What was he going to do with her?

What was she going to do to him?

He knew he should have sent someone to watch over her, but he needed a break from the siren. Geta knew that she was going to take some jewellery and send it off to her church, her people.

Honestly, he couldn’t care less. The jewellery in his room was very little worth to him. He keeps his valuables in a locked safe. The jewellery in that room would be a donation at the very least in the eyes of the emperor. However, if he catches her touch anything of value, she is going to be punished. A discussion will be made between them in the morning.

He called for Carcalla’s attendance. But he was nowhere to be seen. He assumed to he having the audience of his concubines. The last thing he would want to do is to walk in on that scene.

What was he going to do with her? Have a family and children of course when it came down to it. But how was he going to mold her into the woman he wants her to be? Not the thief that she is but someone that would do everything he dreams of and more?

She was perfect, but needed training as Geta saw of it.

He finished the glass of wine then felt someone’s presence in the room with him. He looked around and saw no one. He cleared his throat then let out a soft gasp after feeling a blade down his neck. He didn’t bother turning around, afraid of the consequences of doing so.

“You can take the jewels, mel.” He assumed it was his wife, but the sly chuckle that followed made him realise it wasn’t her. He didn’t budge.

“You really think your wife would do this? She already ran off with your jewels. She’ll be back in the morning though.” Her voice was dark, mellow and sinister. He wanted to ask who they were and what they wanted.

Geta paused for a moment before he could talk, the blade dug into his skin. He let out a soft yelp.

“I am going to do the talking. I will keep it simple for you to understand. Don’t. Hurt. My niece! Her mother is already at her wits end with this grand scheme of yours. She doesn’t wish her daughter to get hurt you see and son of whore emperors like you seem to think you can meddle with us without consequences. This is your one and only warning Geta.”

Before he could respond, he felt her presence gone. He was freaked out, wondering who it was and why they came at this hour. Yet, he only looked at his glass.

Perhaps he gifted himself too much with the wine.

He smirked to himself and sighed. This sounds more like a discussion with the wife in the morning.

“Emperor your neck.” He heard Macrinus say.

Geta turned around and sighed at him. “I am fine, did you see anyone run off from this direction?”. He was looking around which had Macrinus concerned.

The advisor scrunched his brows “No, no I haven’t Emperor. Why should we send to search for them?”

Geta nodded as the advisor walked closer to him. “I would have thought you would spend the night with your wife, not out here.”

There was a pause as he looked down to his feet. “I did, she’s asleep now.” He knew that wasn’t the case, but he didn’t want anyone to know that he will need to punish her further for her crimes. He didn’t want the people of Rome to be angry.

Now he thought he pissed the gods off too.

#emperor geta x oc #emperor geta smut #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #gladiator ii

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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 day ago

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Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 45

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,850ish

Summary: On the road, your group finds a family in need of help.

Warning(s): lots of movie dialogue, canon violence, injuries, character death(s)

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

The four of you found yourselves back on the road soon after the wedding ceremony. Things seemed lighter in a way. Laura and Charles sat in back while Logan drove and you sat beside him. Logan kept one hand on the wheel while his other kept a firm hold on yours. He didn’t want to let you go before your marriage was official, but now he really didn’t want to.

Charles was drifting in and out of sleep as Laura stared out the window with her sunglasses, locking and unlocking the door.

“Knock it off,” Logan said, voice gruff. Laura made no move to stop. “I said, knock it off!”

“She’s a child, Logan,” Charles said. “And, point of face, she’s your—“

“How long has it been since you took your meds?” Charles exhaled, annoyed. “Tell me, how long has it been?”

“I don’t know!”

Logan scoffed. “You saw what happened yesterday. If that shit had gone on any longer, everything in that casino—“

“I did what I had to do to save Laura and Y/N.”

“What?” You questioned, turning to look back at Charles.

“I knew you wouldn’t get to my meds and I kept you from doing so. You wouldn’t have been able to take on all those men while protecting Laura and I.”

“You had a fucking seizure on purpose?!” Logan exclaimed, clearly furious.

“I guess you prefer me pharmaceutically castrated, rambling on like a lunatic. So much easier for you.”

“Easier? There is nothing easy about you, Charles, nothing!”

“Yes, yes, please be like the rest of the world, blaming someone else for your boring shit.”

“I know, Pop, I’m such a giant disappointment.”

“What? Logan, you’re not a disappointment,” you tried to interject.

“You honestly derive no sense of purpose from what we’re doing?” Charles continued.

“Okay, what are we doing?” Logan questioned. “Hmm?”

“There is a young mutant sitting in our car.”

“Yeah, I see that.”

“And where we’re taking her, there are others. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Yeah, means nothing to me. Especially since Nurse Gabriela made all that Eden shit up with fucking comic books.”

“What are you talking about?”

Logan let go of your hand and opened the center consul. He pulled out a bottle, handing it to you. “Give those to him, will you?”

“Logan,” you tried.

“Give ‘em to him.”

You sighed, opening up the bottle and taking two pills out. You turned back and handed them to Charles, giving him a sympathetic smile. Charles took them and tossed them into his mouth before getting a drink.

“I wanna see it,” Logan said, looking at Charles.

Charles made a noise as he opened his mouth and stuck his tough out for Logan to see. Logan took the bottle from you, threw it into the consul, and then slammed it shut. You sighed, so much for the happiness that the small wedding brought. Logan glanced over at you as you stared out the window. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips for a kiss.

“Sorry,” Logan muttered. “On edge.”

“Clearly,” you replied, turning to face him. “Can you try not to be mad at anyone in this car? The rest of the world, sure, but those in this truck are off limits. Got it?”

“Only for you.” He kissed the back of your hand again.

“Whipped,” Charles muttered.

“Have something to tell the class Professor?”

“Nothing.”

Your group fell into a calm silence for a few moments until one of the auto-semi-trucks moved too close to your truck.

“Motherfucking auto-trucks!” Logan exclaimed.

“Language, Logan,” scolded Charles. “And you’re screaming at a machine.”

“Oh, what? She can gut a man with her feet, she can’t hear a few naughty words, huh?”

“She can learn to be better.”

“You mean, better than me?”

“I’m sure that’s not—“

“Actually, yes,” Charles interrupted you.

You knew Charles wasn’t totally in his right mind, but you wished he could fully realize how much his words affected Logan.

“And, by the way,” continued Charles, “Laura’s foot claws are the obvious result of her gender, you know.”

“Is that a fact?” Logan asked.

“In a pride of lions, the female is both hunter and caregiver.”

“Good to know.”

“She uses her front claws for hunting and the back claws defensively.”

“Oh, yeah?” Logan’s sarcasm was clear.

“Thus, ensuring their survival.”

Laura watched this—and every— interaction with curiosity and caution. It was clear to her that her comics were right about somethings. One being that the Wolverine was tough and hostile, but had a soft side for those he cared about. Especially for you. Though the comics Nurse Gabriela had shown her did not do the love you two shared any justice, both the good and the bad. Laura could tell that Logan didn’t know how exactly to deal with Laura and who she was, but she could tell that the hostility was dying, though extreme slow. Laura knew that was thanks to you. As she continued to watch and listen, you looked back to check on her. You shot her a soft smile. Laura wanted to give you one in return, but she really didn’t know how, so she opted for a nod and to turn back to the window.

Just then, an auto-truck honked and began to move over to the lane that your truck was in without even waiting. Logan was forced to swerve quickly, driving into oncoming traffic. Laura held onto Charles trying to keep him steady while you gripped the handle near your door and the middle consul. Logan maneuvered through the oncoming traffic until there was a clearing and he could turn around, coming to a harsh stop. He looked around, noticing that everyone was clearly shaken up.

As the four of you tried to calm down, you watched as a truck pulling a horse trailer stopped across the road. The horse trailer had been knocked open in the incident, with the horses running out. A young man and his parents got out of the truck, rushing to get the horses off the road.

“We should help them,” Charles suggested.

“No, we have to keep going,” Logan retorted. “Someone will come along.”

“Someone has come along.”

Logan looked your way, wanting to know your thoughts.

“I think it would do us some good to help someone else right now,” you told him.

With a sigh, Logan drove the truck across the lanes of traffic and parked it in front of the other truck. Charles rolled down the window and closed his eyes as you and Logan exited the truck. You watched as the horses all came back over and lined up in the trailer. Logan looked back over at Charles with a angry look. You caught it, slipping your hand into Logan’s and giving it a light squeeze. Laura slipped out of the car and stood a bit behind you two.

“Hey, uh, you need a hand?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” the woman replied. “Our truck is stuck. After we get the horses in, we could really use some help getting it out.”

Once the horses were in the trailer, the woman got into the driver’s seat and turned on the truck to help reverse it. Logan and her husband got in front to push it while the son was helping from the side. Once they were all set, they started moving the truck back.

“Ah, good,” the husband patted the front as soon as the truck had moved to a good spot, “got it. Come on, let’s get home.”

“Laura! Y/N!” Logan called. The two of you were standing near the trailer, Laura looking at the horses.

“Thank you so much for your help,” the woman said. “I’m Kathryn.” She reached out her hand.

Logan shook it. “James.”

“This is my son, Nate.”

“Hi,” Nate said.

“Hey,” Logan responded.

“Is that your wife and daughter?” Kathryn asked.

“Uh, yeah, thats, uh—“

“I’m Y/N,” you walked up to Kathryn, “his wife. That’s our daughter Laura.”

“Yeah, and that’s my dad, Chuck,” Logan pointed to Charles in the truck, who waved. “Come on, Laura, let’s go.”

“Well, can we show our appreciation and treat the four of you to a decent meal?” Kathryn wondered. “We don’t live far from here.”

“Uh, no, thanks.”

“That would be lovely!” Charles exclaimed.

You stifled a giggle at the look Logan shot Charles. You walked over to Logan and took his hand. “As long as we aren’t a bother,” you told Kathryn.

“Of course not,” she said. “Just follow us home.”

~~~

“I don’t like this,” Logan grumbled as the table was being set. “We need to keep moving.”

“Logan, it’s just one night,” you told him. “No one would suspect us to stop somewhere like this.”

“Still.”

“Everybody, have a seat,” Kathryn said.

“James, why don’t you sit at the end of the table?” Will, Kathryn’s husband, suggested.

Will sat on one end while Logan took the opposite seat. Kathryn and Nate took one of the longer sides, while Charles, Laura, and you took the other.

“You wanna say grace?” Kathryn asked. “Say grace, baby.”

“Uh, thank you, God, for this food,” Nate said, “and for our new friends, the Howletts.

“Mmm. They came to our aid. Amen.”

“Amen,” you joined in with the rest in saying it.

Everyone began eating. Logan noticed quickly that Laura was stuffing the food into her mouth using her hands. He reached over and handed her, her fork. The bowl of corn got passed to her and she quickly began scooping. Logan took the bowl away before she could take it all. You bit your lip as you noticed how the others were watching you all.

“Oh, there’s plenty more if she wants,” Kathryn offered.

“She’s fine,” Logan said. “Thank you.”

“This is delicious,” Charles said.

“Oh, thank you,” Kathryn responded.

“It’s so good.”

“Where are you all headed?” Will asked.

“Uh, Oregon,” Logan said at the same time that Charles said, “South Dakota.”

“Well, Oregon and then South Dakota,” Charles corrected.

“Vacation?” Kathryn wondered.

“Uh, yes. Uh, long overdue. We’re city folk. Always wanted to take a road trip, see the country. And meet the people in it.”

“Well that sounds lovely. Been trying to get Will here to take a vacation for years now.”

“If we go traipsing all over the country, who’s gonna take care of this place?” Will retorted.

“Exactly. I say, let it go.”

“And live off what?”

“The Lord will provide.”

“I”m still waiting for the Lord to provide me with a new thresher.”

“All the same, I’d love to travel someday.”

“And I bet, you will,” Charles told her.

“I could drop out of school,” Nate offered.

“Okay, let’s not go that far,” Kathryn said.

“I mean, I’ll do it.”

“No, no.”

“Why not? You wanna travel, I wanna travel.”

“Son, son.”

“That sounds good to you, right?” Will asked.

“It’s the perfect plan,” said Nate.

“Why oddly you want to do that, Nate?” Charles wondered.

“Careful,” Logan spoke up, “you’re speaking to a man who ran a school for a lot of years. Right, Charles?”

“Really?” Will asked.

“Yes, it was a… it was a special needs school,” Charles said.

You tried not laugh at his description.

“Uh-huh. That’s a good description,” Logan smirked.

“He was there, too,” Charles pointed at Logan. “In fact, these two both were.”

“Yeah, I got kicked out a few times.”

“Some of them were by choice,” you spoke up, teasing him.

“I wish I could say you were a good pupil, but the words would choke me,” Charles said.

Everyone laughed, including Logan.

“Not that Y/N was much better,” Charles added.

“Wait, what?” You questioned.

“When Y/N first arrived at the school, she hid and refused to participate. Took me years to get her to do anything.”

“Hey, woah. Not years. Maybe one.”

“Whatever.”

The laughter and chatter continued until everyone was full. Logan stood up.

“Ma’am, I can’t thank you enough for this,” he said. “Uh, it was great. But we have a long drive ahead of us, so—“

“But you need to rest, don’t you?” Kathryn questioned.

“Yeah, we’ll find a motel somewhere.”

“The nearest one is two hours from here and it’s not even that nice,” Will said.

“We have a perfectly fine room upstairs for your father and your daughter if you don’t mind you and your wife sleeping in the living room on the convertible,” Kathryn offered.

“Kathryn, it’s very, very nice of you, but we really should go.”

“We can leave early in the morning,” Charles said. “Break of dawn, as it were.”

Logan looked at you, hoping that you’d side with him. You weren’t going to though. It was nice to interact with others and seem normal for a while.

“Okay,” Logan sighed, “why don’t we wash up, Pop?”

Logan pushed Charles away to the bathroom.

“Would you two like some dessert?” Kathryn offered.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you replied.

“Of course not.”

“You all have been really kind to my family. Thank you.”

The water coming from the sink suddenly cut in and out.

“Oh, shit!” Will exclaimed.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

“Nate, go fill up the tub before we lose pressure.”

“They shut if off again,” Kathryn said.

“They are just not going to let this thing go.”

“Well, you might as well handle it now.”

“It can wait till the morning. We just had rain last night.”

“We got four houseguests and a sink full of dishes.”

“Alright, alright.” Will turned to talk to Logan. “The pump station that supplies us is a mile and a half from here. Sometimes it gets itself shut off.”

“By assholes,” Nate added.

“My son is happy to go with you,” Charles offered.

“No, no, no, that’s fine,” Will said as Logan gave Charles a look of unbelief. “The men that do this, sometimes they can be—“

“I can go,” Nate said.

“No,” Kathryn said, “you’ve got homework.”

“Alright, I’ll go,” Logan said. “Just, uh, let me get my dad settled.”

He walked over to Charles and picked him up. Your heart broke as you could hear the strain in Logan’s breathing. You took Laura’s hand and followed Logan and Charles up the stairs to the open bedroom. Laura saw Nate in his room and opted to follow him.

“Behave,” you whispered to her with a smile before letting her go.

You peeked into the room, watching Logan get Charles tucked in. He held up a remote.

“Want TV?” Logan asked. “There’s TV here.”

“I’m fine,” Charles breathed out.

“Okay. Get some rest.”

“You know, Logan… this is what life looks like. A home, people who love each other. Safe place. You should take a moment and feel it. It’s been too long since you’ve had that.”

“Yeah It’s great.” You stepped back as Logan came to the door.

“Logan. Logan! You still have time.”

“Charles, the world is not the same as it was. We’re taking a risk hanging around here, you know that. And where we’re going, Eden… it doesn’t exist. Her nurse got it from a comic book. You understand? It’s not real.”

“It is for Laura… It is for Laura.”

“Get some rest.”

Logan walked out of the room, completely shutting the door, to find you there.

“What are we doing, Logan?” You asked quietly. “If you don’t believe that Eden is real, then where are we taking Laura? What are your plans with her?”

Logan sighed, coming up to you and placing his hands on your arms. He ran his hands down until he could hold your hands. “I… I’m trying here.”

“Try harder… for Laura, for Charles… for me. You need to decide if you believe in it and if you’re willing to trust that Eden will be a safe place for your daughter.”

“Do you believe in it?”

“I hope it’s real. For her sake.”

“Then I’ll try a little harder, okay?” You nodded, leaning into Logan. His hands dropped yours to wrap you in a hug. “I won’t be long.”

“Be safe.”

The two of you met for a brief kiss. You walked Logan down the stairs and watched as he and Will headed out to the fields. You saw Kathryn in living room, reading the pull-out bed.

“Thank you, again,” you told her.

“Of course,” she replied. “It seems like you all have had a long journey and need some good rest.”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“The bed’s all ready. Sleep well.”

Then Kathryn walked away. You crawled onto the bed and curled up, thinking of Logan. You heard footsteps just as you were about to fall asleep, the weight was familiar. Your back was facing towards the slow, on coming footsteps.

“Logan?” You whispered quietly, only to receive no verbal response.

A hand fell to your back, moving until it was above your beating heart.

“Logan, what are you—“

Quickly, the hand formed a fist and three metal claws entered your heart. The darkness came instantly.

~~~

When Logan and Will arrived back at the house, Logan went to the truck to try to calm down his coughing. A gunshot and screams had his head snapping in the direction of the house. Logan raced inside the best he could with his limp. Will was at the bottom of the stairs, claw marks through his chest. Logan looked up to see a copy of him—younger and less scarred—carrying a screaming and bound Laura down the stairs. Logan froze, only able to pant and stare as the copy of him walked past him, Laura still screaming.

“Charles!” Logan shouted up the stairs. “Y/N! Charles! Y/N!”

He used the railing to get him up the stairs faster. At the top of the stairs, he found Kathryn dead with Nate at the entrance of Charles’ room. He froze for a moment upon seeing Charles bloody and barely breathing in bed. Blood was running out of Charles’ mouth as he shakily reached for Logan.

When Logan finally broke out from his trance, he rushed over and used some of the bedding to pack Charles’ wound. He maneuvered Charles’ hands to be over the bedding.

“Hold this,” Logan whispered, fear coursing through his veins. “It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me.”

Logan picked Charles up carefully, still scanning the house for any sign of you. Charles let out a moan as he struggled to keep conscious.

“Just hold on, Charles,” Logan said.

Logan went out the side door and rushed Charles over to the truck, placing him in the bed.

“I’ll be back,” Logan promised, before going back inside. “Y/N! Y/N!”

Suddenly, his nose got whiff of a familiar scent. Your blood. He rushed for the living room, where the pull out bed was out. There was a large bloody stain on it, but no you. There was no sign of your fire or your smoke or your ashes. Logan’s heart hammered in his chest as he continued to find no sign of you in the house. Logan stammered out of the house to hear more screaming and gunshots. He saw his duplicate self killing the men who turned off the water. There was a military grade truck past his duplicate. Logan noticed Laura on the ground but when he his moved, his breath caught in his throat.

They had you in a glass box, like Snow White or a doll. There was blood on you and Logan could tell from where he was standing that you weren’t breathing.

“Charles!” Logan exclaimed quietly. He went back over and pressed on the wounds. “Hold this down, right now, tight!”

“Save them,” Charles whispered. “I’m… sorry…”

“What?”

“Go…” Then Charles heart stopped.

“No.”

Rage grew inside Logan. How dare they create a duplicate version of him and have him kill you and Charles? He had to get to you before they did anything. Suddenly, the military truck blew up, throwing the glass case you were in forward, crashing next to Laura. The glass broke. Logan needed to move fast. He knew that if you went up in flames and your ashes were separated, there would be no coming back for you. He wouldn’t be able to continue on the rest of his short life without you.

Logan snuck up on his duplicate as the duplicate marched towards you and Laura. With each grunt, he plunged his claws into the duplicate. But his copy made no move to fight back, just walking backwards with each hit. Logan plunged both sets of claws into the copy.

“What the hell are you?” He grunted.

The duplicate stabbed Logan in the shoulder and tossed him over to the ground. Logan shielded himself with his claws before the duplicate could do it again. Every muscle and bone was straining with Logan, but he couldn’t stop. Not when you weren’t safe. Logan jumped back up and continued fighting, but the duplicate was better, stronger. The copy kept making hits, causing Logan to yell out in pain.

Eventually, the duplicate had Logan pinned against a large tractor tire. Before it could make the final kill, Will’s truck rammed into the duplicate, pinning it against the fence. Will stumbled out of the truck with his gun, shooting into the duplicate multiple times. Once Will believed the duplicate to be dead, he turned his gun on Logan, but couldn’t do anything before he fell to the ground, dead.

Laura’s shrieking continued as she laid bound beside your dead body. Logan stumbled over to the two of you, bloody and bruised. He knew that you needed to get someplace safe, but he also knew that you would never forgive him for leaving Laura. He grabbed Laura and carried her over to the truck, placing her into the seat next to his before turning to get you.

As he knelt beside you to pick you up, the tears fell. The three punctures over your heart was enough to tell him that his copy had done this to you. He groaned as he picked you up and cradled you against him.

“It wasn’t me,” he whispered, like him saying that would wake you. “It wasn’t me.”

He carried you to the truck and slipped you into the back seat. Laura turned around and saw Charles dead in the bed of the trunk and you dead in the back seat. Her shrieking got worse as she fought against her bindings. Logan turned on the truck and sped off into the fields. Laura thrashed around, trying to free herself. With a shaky hand, Logan released his claws.

“Hold still,” he told her, moving the claws over to her cuffs. “Hold still.”

He cut through the bindings and quickly put away his claws, focusing on driving through the field. Laura crawled into the back seat and placed your head on her lap. Logan glanced at her through the rearview mirror, not missing the tear that slipped down her cheek.

next chapter >

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mihachansstuff · 2 days ago

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So I finished reading a danmei novel for the very first time (it's SVSSS)

Spoiler Alert

(And incoming rant...)

So I just finished reeading the volume 4 of SVSSS, and even before i finished it i knew i have to talk about it and let my thoughts out somehow and here we are. My danmei journey started not too long ago with MDZS donghua before i found myself buying physical copies of SVSSS. Although my first novel was 2ha but I read till volume 6 to keep it on hold and finished this one instead.

Now that i am done, before i make it too long i will just leave some snippets of audacious thoughts here which may or may not be agreed upon -

I really wanted to like LBH, but in the end I just couldn't, some parts and traits of his character just don't sit well with me. I mainly hate his manipulative part, and I just don't understand why someone like Shen Yuan/SQQ falls for it again and again.

Zhuzhi lang is indeed a lovable character, but I just can't forgive him for killing Gongyi Xiao. The only time I shed tears while reading this novel was when we hear about his death and how SQQ was then remembering how GYX told him he would visit his peak after everything is over. (I was still holding on to that hope that he will be miraculously alive *sob*)

I found Tianlang-Jun to be a decent character, even more decent than his own son. I mean, yeah LBH went through traumatic periods but TLJ also went through miserable times while sealed. But in the end he just let all of it go while his son kept getting jealous and vicious towards every human being close to SQQ.

SQH and MBJ is a good ship. I would love to know more about them I need more Moshang content (this everyone will agree i know)

In that one interview chapter at volume 4 SQH's comment about Bingqiu being the kindergartner and his teacher, I can't agree more. Also his comment about how dating LBH must be exhausting and annoying was so true that I just don't understand why SQQ accepts all this 😭😭

I wish I could learn more about Liu Mingyan's thought process while writing Regrets of Chunshan.

I saw a Youtube comment that said - "In SVSSS, almost every character can be shipped with SQQ" and I couldn't agree more! SQQxYQY, SQQxLQG and etc. all are good ship material.

I felt like there were more background plots that could be explored (like what happened to Huan Hua Palace after, or how TLJ was doing, or some more info and background about certain characters etc). In this way I feel like Shen Yuan, heh

The novel art is pretty, but the way LBH was described about his looks and beauty, I somehow didn't feel it through the art. My fav character ranking according to art would be Tianlang Jun→Mobei Jun→SQQ, even though I really like curly hair.

At this point people might think I am a LBH hater, but really I am not, or at least I don't want to be. But I just really think SQQ deserved a better peaceful life at CQ Mountain, around his disciples and sect brothers that really adore him like a family. I really hated the ending in Vol 3 where SQQ left the mountain with LBH in this respect. Well at least in vol 4 it said that the two come to the mountain from time to time so I guess I can calm down a bit.

I really, really like Shen Qingqiu. He's a diva. But I just don't understand...some of his choices. But I guess I will just leave it at that.

This is my first time finishing a danmei novel as I mentioned already, so please go easy on me, even though I may have said things that might spark an argument. Overall I think it was a good experience and I'm looking forward to reading more novels. Feel free to give me some recommendations!

#svsss #mxtx svsss #danmei #i might have said something to incur wrath #scum villian self saving system #scumbag system

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gildedbirdcage-if · 20 hours ago

Note

Your fingers threaten to do so, even now, but you recall Orion telling you there’s certain things you can only do when you’re young. That things lose their innocence as you get older.

You hear Alek, but you are not doing a very good job at listening. His face is awfully close to yours, in a way that could mean something when you’re older. The way Orion warned you. The way your novels sometimes end.

I'm not sure if you take requests for snippets, but if so could we please get a flashback of Orion having these talks with MC/warning them? It sounds like it would be both cute and funny with how sheltered the MC is! I understand if it's not possible though, so please don't feel pressured :)

So sorry to answer this so late- holidays are always so busy! Snippet down below- may not be exactly how it will be in the story but it’ll be something like this. Set around when MC is 15 and Orion is 14 with a crushing Orion because I can’t help myself. TW for slight alluding to sexual harassment/abuse. Please read at your own discretion and health. MDNI

You wake with a start.

It was not a very good day- filled with glares, comments, and shoves disguised poorly as accidents. It appeared such things couldn’t help but bleed into the night as well- into your very dreams. With such things invading your room, you fear there may never be an escape from the torment. No haven from this hate.

As quickly as you think there is no where to go, you remind yourself that of course there is. You could go to the kitchens in your wing that houses Orion. Grumpy with you as he may oft be, he was still a much happier option than being alone. He would never lay a hand on you and it has seemed like ages since he’s uttered a truly hateful word to you- whether that be because he found you more agreeable these days or because he was sick of Alek in his ear, you may never know.

You fling blankets off of you, rush to the window, and fling the curtains in a similar fashion. Outside the window, the sky was pitch black and the only light to cover the world is a rather full and bright moon.

Well… even better, you think to yourself. Likely Orion still sleeps and it’s been an awful long time since you’ve had a sleepover with anyone. The poison of the day, try as it might to get you in the night, could not get you when such a wonderfully genius idea manifests itself.

You arrange the curtains back to sorts and spin away from the window, the skirt of your nightgown expanding momentarily around you as you do, and set your sights on the door to exit your room and begin to roam through the empty halls.

The halls are silent, save the thumping of your bare feet, and you are grateful for this. People would only ruin the beautiful mood you’ve put yourself in with your brilliant idea and you simply can not, will not, stand for it. It’s a shame Alek isn’t home for you to share your idea, you hadn’t had a sleepover with him in so long either. Alek and Orion’s lives seem too busy for such things any more while you… well, you just seemed to float from one day to the next. Unchanging.

Time has robbed you of sleepovers, days where you would play all day, and days where it seemed all you had was each other. Now Alek leaves home more than he stays, puts his life in danger, and has become quite set on becoming the commander of the army one day. When you are most lonely and sad, he assures you in letters that someday you’ll understand. That if he could do it all from home he would. That it hurts him to leave you so. You wish you could tell him how hollowing it can be to one day feel like you were the center of someone’s world and the next realize you aren’t. But you are being unreasonable, Orion has told you many a time, and a country does not simply protect itself.

Orion, while in no great danger, similarly is too busy to entertain you. He minds you less and less occupying a corner in his kitchens but he is lost in the flurry of the work and he has no time to listen to what kind of bug you saw and what patterns it held, the way you got stuck trying to find a good hiding place for a game that you, Alek, and Orion no longer play, or how the sparks from the fireplace cracked so loud and reached so far you scrambled away so quickly with a fit of giggles lest it set you ablaze. How heartbreaking it was to make sounds at people but they never truly hear. Orion has his dreams of being the best chef in the castle, no, the country, he tells you, and he must work his hardest each day to achieve that. No noble wouldn’t know his name.

But look at you, making your own eyes water when you have set yourself on no one ruining your mood or idea. It seems you cannot let your guard down even against your own thoughts.

You enter Orion’s domain, the kitchens his room is attached to, and it’s as you’ve always known it. Orion runs a tight ship and the only imperfect, messy piece is the corner dedicated just for you that he allows no one to touch. Projects you start but never finish decorate it and you have to pry yourself from the idea of just setting up camp right then and there for the day. Sleepover, you remind yourself.

Opening the door, you smile at how very Orion this room is- as it ought to be seeing it is his. The moon shines it’s light through his window giving you the ability to see how tidy and very grownup the room is, not even a spare sock to be seen. Very different from your own room that you couldn’t care less if everything looked prim and proper. Dark blue, his favorite color since before you met him, is found everywhere here and adds to his air of sophistication.

The only childish thing that spoils the room can be found on his desk, in bright colors that betray the somber room. Your heart awkwardly beats at the sight… they were pictures you’ve drawn just for him, poems you wrote and stories from when you figured yourself an accomplished author, lyrics you wrote that you thought rather charming. Something unnameable warmed in you as you stared at it- it was not lost on you that in Orion’s busy, tidy, controlled, and uniform life he somehow found a corner just for you and no one else to have in his two most lived in places.

Unsure if he would have wanted you to see that he still kept the things you’ve given him over the years, you turn to his bed where he sure enough is sleeping, unaware of your entering.

The brown hair he’s been growing out is splattered across his pillow and messy as he sleeps on his side, facing the window, and he cuddles a pillow tightly to himself. His scars from his occupation shine like silver in the moonlight on his arms around the pillow. While mostly covered in a blanket, you can see his bare back, also scarred, and wonder why he is allowed to wear less clothes as time marches on but you must wear more. Thankfully, Orion does not wear nothing and you can see the waistband of sleep pants.

You come across your first hurdle here… normally, you would not have any problems with simply waking him up but he seems so peaceful here, so deeply asleep with his small snores here and there, that you fear you would feel guilty getting in the way of that. You cannot lay yourself quietly at his back due to how he sleeps and his bed is not as large as yours to find a place for yourself. Maybe at one time you could but Orion has grown too tall, unfortunately.

Troubling, indeed.

Well… Orion, you, and the pillow obviously can’t fit so you become resolved to remove the offending pillow. Crawling onto his bed, you pull at the pillow until it is set free, launch it somewhere in the room, and wiggle yourself in it’s place and you are immediately warm and comfortable.

Orion, in his sleep, seems perfectly unaware that the pillow has vanished and his strong arms wrap around you quite tightly. There’s something about the hold that makes you feel feverish and makes it hard to breathe… but you feel safe, nonetheless. Bad dreams can’t afflict you here.

Getting a good look at his face, your eyes are drawn to the crease his eyebrows create. Even in sleep, Orion finds a way to somehow have a scowl about him. Inching your hands to it, you can’t help but press at it and attempt to massage it away. You used to be skeptical when Alek’s mother would say that if you had your face a certain way it would get stuck like that… but now you think she may have been telling the truth.

Orion grumbles at your attentions, stretches his legs, tightening his arms about you more somehow, and opens his eyes a smidge and looks at you. You have been caught, which really should not come as a shock to you. Really, you can’t just touch someone’s face as you are and think they wouldn’t feel it.

Staring at you bleary-eyed, Orion plucks your hand away from his brow and places it on his chest, near his heart you dare say, before closing his eyes and placing his arms back around you just so… rubbing soothingly at knots that are not there.

You have no opportunity to make anything of it before his eyes shoot back open, wide, and he gasps- untangling himself and falling to the floor with a thud that causes you to wince.

He takes the blankets with him, pulls them up to cover his chest, and says, “What in God’s name are you doing in my room?”

His tone makes you feel as though, perhaps, your idea was not as brilliant as you thought.

“I… I was having bad dreams from the day and I thought-“ you begin.

Orion cuts you off. “I’m quite certain you weren’t thinking anything. My God, did anyone see you enter here?”

He gets up then and fetches a shirt to put on while you feel like you should get up and flee. Lock yourself up in your room. Hide away from your friend’s ire.

“I was not seen, I was not heard… I’m sorry, Orion, I just… I had a bad day that became a bad night and wanted to be with someone. Have a sleepover like we used to. Remember?”

You want to add that you don’t understand his anger, it never mattered before. Why would something as small as a sleepover matter now?

Still facing away from you, you hear Orion take a very slow, very large intake of air and expel it equally as slow. You recognize it, it happens often enough. It’s the kind of breath Orion breathes when he is trying to find his patience with you. You place your hands in your lap, fiddling with your thumbs, and look down at them feeling quite chastised.

You hear him walk back to the bed and you glance at him through your lashes, more so peeking at him. Orion’s stare goes from your exposed shoulder where your nightgown has shifted to your exposed legs- the kerfuffle had set your nightgown out of sorts without you realizing. Carefully, avoiding touching your skin, he fixes your sleeve and then grabs the hem of your nightgown to pull it back over your legs. As an extra layer, he throws the blanket about you to cover you up. You didn’t think you were so chastised that you were shaking… you figure he must have thought if you were shivering that you were cold with how he was covering you.

Orion kneels on the ground in front of the bed and seems to have a hard time looking you in the eye. “I need you to understand we’re not little anymore.”

Well, that was silly. Obviously you knew that. He and Alek have become like trees in the last year or so.

“I know,” you respond, confused why he would say that.

He takes another calming breath. “No, you don’t. I need you to understand we’re not children anymore.”

That bothers you. “Yes we are. Alek’s mother still calls us children. She wouldn’t do that if we were grown up.”

He looks you in the eye now and you can tell you’re still not hearing him the way he wants you to.

“We are not children, MC, and we’re not grownups either. We’re awkwardly in the middle but I need you to understand that it still means something. You cannot… sneak into a man’s room, especially one seen as a servant, in the middle of the night in just a nightgown.”

“What else should I wear for a sleepover? This is what I’ve always worn.”

Orion runs his hands through his hair. He looks a mixture of embarrassed and frustrated and you’re not sure why.

“We can’t have sleepovers anymore, MC, and when I say that I mean that you and I can’t. You and Alek can’t. Those days are over and gone. It means something different now.”

You feel your lip quiver at the mention of your days of fun, of being around them whenever you so choose, being over. Gone.

You feel that wall you thought of earlier begin to add more bricks between you and Orion. Maybe even Alek too. This knowledge that they’re so privy to while you stay infantile to them. You are older than Orion and yet that can’t be. They move on, they run, while you seem to never be able to move on beyond a crawl.

“Don’t do that,” Orion says, sounding a little taken aback by your apparent heartbreak and hurt.

“You’re just being cruel, the way Alek says you like to be in some misguided way.” You say, sniffles finding their way into the sentence.

You can almost see him cursing Alek.

“Maybe I am being cruel but I’m doing what no one else will do and telling you the way of the world. I would give anything for this to be someone else’s job but I can’t let you be ignorant any longer. It’s dangerous now to let you continue on this way. Everyone can treat you like a baby who says a word wrong but never corrects them because they find it cute but I won’t do that to you.” Orion says with great feeling.

Deep down, you know he is not intentionally being cruel the way he was when you first met. It was unfair to accuse him of it. Orion is pulling weight in your life that he shouldn’t have to.

He sees you are listening now.

“People like you are sold to the highest bidder when they’re young and I don’t think you’ll be safe from it for forever. And even if you are… there’s people out there, evil people, who will take advantage of you not knowing… things. You need to know how it is. Between people.”

“Things lose their innocence as we get older,” Orion continues. “That’s why you can’t have sleepovers anymore or be seen with us in just a nightgown. I know, Alek knows, that you sneaking into our beds means nothing… but anyone else? Anyone who would catch you doing that would think you did mean something. That you did something. That you’re- that we- anyways, you just can’t do that, okay?”

No, it wasn’t okay and you didn’t understand.

“Okay,” you say quietly, sadly.

Orion sighs heavily, his frustration moving from you to himself. “I- I don’t think I can explain the ins and the outs to you of what I want you to know. I thought I could but it’s… awkward and embarrassing, all right? Just… know that you can’t go sleeping with- next- know that you can’t have sleepovers anymore with me or Alek. And you tell us if someone tries to get you to, okay? You don’t agree, you don’t say anything, you just run as fast as you can to me or Alek’s family.”

He moves to tip your chin to make sure you’re looking at him, that you’re still listening. All you can do is nod your head. You understand he needs you to know this is important, and you do, but you don’t understand at all. You still feel rather unfairly chastised when you don’t know what you’ve done wrong… just that you have done wrong.

Orion drops his hand like it burns and looks embarrassed still, a rarity that you can’t even enjoy because you feel so down and ashamed.

“I’ll see if I can get a book or something so you can learn. Or maybe writing it would be easier on me and then you can burn it. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. For now, you need to go back to your room before everyone wakes up. Go back to sleep. No more coming here at night.”

You come out the the blanket cocoon and head to the door, wordlessly doing as he asks. Orion seems restless at your silence.

Before you can leave, Orion grabs the crook of your elbow and pulls you back to face him.

“I didn’t want to- I didn’t mean to- why don’t I make your favorite for breakfast? And- and we’ll play that game I hate. The one where we have to draw something and the other guesses. The one you’re so good at. I’ll even make your favorite dessert for when you win.”

It’s awkward, him being so kind. You appreciate him trying.

You give him your best smile but even you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Okay.”

But you don’t leave your room that day. Today you hide away in your room, door firmly locked, and stay with your books and drawings that you wear as armor against growing up. At things changing. At your friends going upwards and onwards. At all the unknowns and things you’re ignorant to.

You will face the world on another day.

On this day, you cry.

#gildedbirdcageif #gildedbirdcageroasks #orion #gildedbirdcagestoryasks #interactive fiction #interactive game #prompt scenario

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exouniverse · 4 months ago

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Should I write a second part to Not by Happenstance with Kyungsoo coming back home? This time from reader’s perspective? This is the fic with most notes here… I might, I might… at least a drabble… who knows 👀🤷🏻‍♀️

#hehehe #but seriously somebody stop me I’m supposed to be writing tightrope lol #also like when I was writing it I couldn’t stop thinking about it being a potential smut with plot fic #like please… all of that longing and his comment in the end…#but I’ve never written smut before and I don’t want to ruin it?#d.o.#kyungsoo #f:not by happenstance #kyungsoo fluff #kyungsoo fic #doh kyungsoo #kyungsoo fanfic

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luck-of-the-drawings · 9 months ago

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smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.

#jrwi show #jrwi fanart #jrwi riptide #gillion tidestrider #made this within a short span of wahtever bc i gotta go up to the mountains for my stupid gay job tonight n im trying #nnot to frrRREAAAK THE FUCK OUUTTTTTTi dont wanna work but. get that bread we fuckin shall i guess #ONWARDS TO THE FISH TORMENT!! sometimes flowers feel pain when you trim them before their blossoming. atleast i imagine so #i used to draw gillion with loooong hair tied into a big ol braid. and then it was confirmed that he had short hair when he was little.#AT FIRST I WAS SAD. but then i realized the duality of. when they were little. gill had short hair. edyn had long hair.#AND NOW THEYRE OLDER. and gillion has long hair. and edyn has short hair #both mirroring eachother. looking up to eachother. subconsciously or not. they most certainly care. and most certainly miss eachother.#GILLION ALWAYS LOVED HOW LONG HAIR LOOKs. atleast i imagine so. he hasnt cut it since he left the undersea. sure he wanted to go back home #but even at the very start. he knew he was free in some way now. free to grow out his hair. an adventure would await him before he returns.#he knew it would be a while. so he cant let this go. he cant let this sought-after hair-length get cut away from him again #not yet. not yet. i like to think he loved music too. I SAW SOMETHING INTERESTING A BIT AGO #i see alot of ppl commenting on my baby gill comics like;'i wouldFIGHT this teacher i wanna KILL EM i want them DESTROYED #all very good and nice sentiments! i LOVE the energy here! and it would be nice. to have that catharsis #but the story of young tidestrider is not a story of catharsis. it is a story of agony and being so so small and so special and also so dum #and sucking so bad. and just being a kid and doing the things that a little kid does and so many tired tired people reacting badly to it #youre supposed to be the hero that will save us. our world hangs in the balance and you are the one who tips the scales.#YOU are supposed to SAVE US!! you NEED to SAVE US! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP SQUIRMING IN YOUR STUPID CHAIR!!#you'd think that young tidestrider ought to prevail. and be tucked someplace all safe and sound.#elders gone missing and rotting in a jail. their cultists nowhere around. but theres no happy endings. not here not now.#this tale is all sorrows n woes. you may dream that justice n peace win the day. but thats not how this story goes #BIG ideas for this lil baby gillion series. if anything i make ever gets disproven im killing myself in a well as to poison a water supply

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gojorgeous · 1 year ago

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"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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