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anyarose011 · 6 days ago

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Agape

Pairing: Lucius x Reader

Summary: After the Roman Empire had fallen, birthing the Republic, you and Lucius had finally found a moment to breathe in each other's presence. Over a few years' journey of healing, you find that is both exhausting, yet all the more fulfilling at the same time.

Part 2 of 2 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past SA, Depictions of Grief, Violence, Angst, Miscommunication, Historical Inaccuracies [I tried my best to make it kind of accurate], Nudity (sexual and non-sexual), Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex (f receiving), P in V Sex

Paul Mescal's facial hair in All of Us Strangers, if you can hear us, please save us. Nobody ask me how I went from "’Oh, I’m just gonna write some scenes about healing from trauma, and the rest is smut! Easy!" to then making it just a little longer than the first part. I'm a yapper, but holy shit XD. Anyway, this is just shameless pRopAgAnDa at what I personally view a husband to act like (even in modern times). So, without further ado, thousands of words of hurt/comfort and smut.

Word Count: 16.4k

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You were a lucky child. When you were twelve and your friend was married off to a man who was forty-two, you asked your father when you would be married.

He tucked you in that night, saying that he wasn’t certain, and that you had nothing to fear; for he wouldn’t promise you to a man who was in a war the same year you were born. He would have to know him personally as well, saying.

“It’s easier to like a man than have to plan his assassination if he dared lay a hand on you.”

You like to think he would have approved of Lucius; he was the once heir to the Roman Empire.

You don’t think he would have approved of your…informal marriage.

“A year.” Lucius stated as the two of you sat together in one of the piazzas. “As long as we are not separated from each other for more than three days, Rome will view us as married if we live in the same household for a year.”

You hummed. “And why should we care what Rome views?”

“Men won’t stop their advances on you if they saw you as my sister.” he explained. “Even as a wife, that doesn’t stir them.”

“It’s a very Christian belief of you to have.”

“But it makes them think thoroughly on if they want to risk tainting you.” Lucius finally looked at you. “Knowing that I would break every finger they touched you with.”

Even with his proclamation, you merely shrugged. “Being the emperor’s favorite whore, I doubt they would care.”

He sighed. “Do you want to know what my mother wrote? Her final words that will forever be with me because they are in ink? ‘Take her as your wife.’”

It had only been one day since Lucilla’s death, since Rome had become a Republic, and no one knew exactly what to do.

Yet…even at the mention of her presence, you felt tears spring to your eyes.

How you hated crying; and crying and crying.

“It is wise.” You finally settled on. “The people here too must see me as a traitor.”

“You would be dead if they did.”

“It’s still early.” You smiled sadly. “I desired to be free of the emperors, but all they must have saw was lust for power.”

Lucius sighed. “If it is a concern, then I believe it is best to leave Rome.”

Suddenly, you were no longer afraid for your life. You scowled. “Leave the city you risked your life to liberate?”

“It is not just my own life I need to think of now, is it?”

“Then think of mine.” you began. “I don’t wish to leave. Where would we even go? I know nothing outside of Rome.”

This would have been solved if you somehow still had the house you grew up in. The moment Geta claimed you, it was gone. Even with the fall of the Empire, and the birth of the Republic, you could not take it back.

Among many other things, you could not take it back.

“We’ll live just outside the walls.” Lucius suggested. “A farm perhaps a few miles from here-.”

“-A farm?” You questioned. “You know how to farm? Because I sure don’t.”

“I’ve lived longer on a farm than I have in a palace.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. You also weren’t in the position to bargain. Even though it wasn’t going to be what most would deem an ‘official’ marriage, he still owned you. That was how it always was, whether living outside of the Roman walls or not. Still, you had to try.

“I will learn as much as I need to,” You shook your head. “but I will find a job in the city. You cannot believe I will be shut out-.”

“-Do you want to share a room, or would you like your own?”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

Lucius restated. “We don’t have any money to buy a farm, so I’ll build us one. Do you want your own room?”

You had only known him for a grand total of a day and a half (if you were to add up all the previous times you had spoken to him before Macrinus’ death), so needless to say, his offer shocked you; more so, it impressed you.

“Isn’t it odd for a man and wife to not share a bed?” You asked.

“So, you want to share a room?”

“No.” was your immediate response. “I just…”

Am not used to compromising with men without them threatening my life.

“Won’t it cost money to build a house?” You asked instead. “None the less, more for another room?”

“I only want you to be happy, if we’re to be married.”

There you were, asking every question and not being satisfied with his answers, yet he was remaining patient.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head in thanks for just a second before questioning. “I am still allowed to have a job in the city? It will help with the cost, of course.”

“Where exactly do you intend to work?”

He said your name; not ‘Julia’, the name you had whispered to him in his cell. Lucius was the only one who had said it to you, for you did not even tell Lucilla or Marcus. It still felt strange hearing it on your lips, nonetheless, his.

Still, shaking your discomfort away, you hummed humorlessly. “I know two women who run their own businesses; hairdressing and tailoring. I’m better at hair than clothes, but not so much. And you?”

He sighed. “I’ll see if there’s any other farmers needing a hand.”

“You’re going to work for a farmer to build a farm?”

“It sounded more bizarre in your head than when you said it aloud, did it not?”

That was the first thing you found out about Lucius after all the bloodshed and heartbreak of the last week:

He spoke with such a straight tone, you did not know he was joking until he would smile just a hint; you couldn’t really call it a true smile.

You managed to grin. “I suppose it makes sense. You should find one that will let us sleep there.”

And he did. A farm just a few miles outside of Rome took both you and Lucius in. It was substantial, housing five chickens, two cows, three pigs, four horses, and seven human children. Albeit the children helped with the chores, but the eldest was only ten and could not manage any of the heavy lifting whatsoever, which was where Lucius came in.

From sun up to sun down, he’d work on the farm. The farmers, Atticus and Diana, let you sleep in the barn of all places. The hayloft was nice for the both of you; enough space to spread out but not be right next to each other. There was also somewhat of a wall between the two of you, giving the illusion of separate rooms.

It was certainly an adjustment for you; had been sleeping on the softest of beds for months, but even so, you just missed the bed from your old house.

Lucius fell asleep the second he laid on the hay.

Dreams and nightmares were always a peculiar thing. Some days, you would dream of your mother and father, some days, they would be of Lucilla and Marcus.

You had nightmares of what befell you before coming to the farm; Macrinus and his manipulation, Caracalla’s temper, Geta…

Yet, the worst that would happen would be you waking up more tired than the night prior. You knew Lucius was having nightmares too, but every time you approached him, he would lie and say he was fine, or simply not want to speak of it.

You stopped asking.

For the first few days on the farm, you were put to work by watching over the younger children when their mother was busy. Somehow, it was the older ones you didn’t mind, it was the youngest baby who was a handful.

It’s morbid to say, but you always wondered how any of them survived infancy.

Luckily, you managed to get back to Rome after perhaps a week of being stranded on the farm. It was almost an hour walk, and you had gotten up even before Lucius had, but it was worth it.

It wasn’t that you felt dead as you were on the farm per say, but walking through the streets brought a certain kind of life back into your steps.

You spent a good portion of the day trying to find the hairdressers you talk to Lucius about. Just as you were about to give up and try again tomorrow, something caught your ear.

Hebrew.

You turned over your shoulder and saw a man speaking in Latin to another man and a pregnant woman. The father had spoken in broken Latin before turning to his wife, speaking quickly in Hebrew as if to ask her what to say.

One of the men began to yell, and you rushed over, speaking to the patriarch of the family.

“What’s going on?” You asked quickly.

His eyes grew as if you were the first person in Rome to understand him (you probably were). “I paid for a bag of peaches fairly; two bronze, yet they’re saying it wasn’t enough.”

You turned to the men behind you. “He says he gave you two bronze for the peaches.”

“It was three.” The Roman man gritted his teeth.

Tilting your head, you tried. “Show me your stand so we may see.”

It was perhaps stupid of you to challenge him; yet, he controlled his tempter and led you to his fruit stand. The sign by the peaches indeed said ‘2’, but there was also a good amount of peaches blocking the bottom half of the sign.

When you moved a few, it read ‘3’.

You smiled, looking at the man who spoke Hebrew. “It is three, but it’s not your fault this brute didn’t notice either.”

He nodded, returning your grin before handing the men another copper. With an few mumbled exchanges, the man and his wife were on their way.

“You have Judeans in your family?” The man crudely asked.

Still, you decided to reciprocate his crassness with kindness. “I actually speak five languages.”

He rose his brows. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

He hummed, holding his hand out. “Isidorus.”

“Julia.” Was your immediate response as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles. It wasn’t even your own choice to say that name; it was what you lived by. Retracting your hand, you shake your head and said your own name. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-.”

“-All of Rome knows who you are.” He interrupted. “Do not be afraid of your own people. Most of them were there simply a week ago when you tried to slay Macrinus but was there to comfort lady Lucilla in her final moments.”

You only nodded, not wanting to be praised. “I thank you for your kindness.”

“With certain.” He nodded. “You are with child; only a monster would harm a woman carrying.”

The events of the past weeks had made you forgotten about the false babe. Luckily, the fear upon your face could be used to your advantage.

“Are you not well?” Isidorus questioned.

You dropped your gaze, stammering your tone. “The…I lost the child.”

He looked down as well. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head. “it’s…it feels odd. His father was terrible but…”

“Why are you perusing Rome unchaperoned?” He changed the subject.

“My betrothed is being put to work,” you immediately answered. “and I am scouring the streets to find my own.”

“What has your luck been?”

“Nothing.”

Isidorus hummed. “I could change that.”

Even at the thought of what he was alluding to, you smiled. “Good sir, I am not in the position to sell my body-.”

“-None of that.” he waved his hand. “My brother works down at the entrance of the city gates. They’re always in need of translators.”

You nodded, considering. “When may I meet with him?”

“Tomorrow?” He asked. “Midday at the gates with many people watching so you do not feel threatened?”

The two of you laughed, and you agreed. “I shall be there. Thank you.”

“Anything to help a woman of the people.”

You walked all the way back to the farm with a skip in your step. Even at dinner, you were more talkative with the rest of the family. Lucius certainly took notice as the two of you were settling down for the night.

“You seemed better today.” He complimented, laying onto his bed of hay.

“So, I’ve been absolutely horrible the rest?” You teased, peeking around the wall of the hayloft.

“No, just what I think you were like before everything; more yourself.” He explained. “Did the hairdressers go well?”

Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms. “I’m actually working as a translator down by the city entrance.”

He gave you a look. “How’d this come about?”

“Well,” you began. “I overheard two men arguing, one was speaking Hebrew, and I asked him what was wrong. There was a misunderstanding over peaches of all things, I helped them talk it out, and it was solved with no bloodshed. The vendor said his brother works at the gates and is always in need of translators and offered to meet with him tomorrow. It will be midday and so many people around; do not worry.”

Lucius nodded. “I’ll accompany you.”

“Did you not hear what I just said? I shall be fine.”

“I have no doubt you would.” You knew that was a lie. “One of the scythes broke today, I’ll need to buy another one in the city.”

You didn’t know if that was a lie or not, but it wouldn’t surprise you if Lucius would sneak out in the night and break equipment simply to go with you.

Sighing, you went behind the wall to your side of the hayloft. “Fine.”

To no one but Lucius’ surprise, Isidorus had not lied about his brother, nor the job offer. Of course, the brother had been off put at a woman being the translator (because everyone knows that they are the lesser sex). Still, after some convincing (you talked to a Greek family, a man from Anatolia, and two brothers from Persia), he said you could be put to work.

Lucius stood there the whole hour you had proved yourself.

“You couldn’t have gotten the scythe while I worked?” You questioned him while walking home.

He kept his gaze on the road before him, carrying the farm equipment. “It was engaging to watch.”

You hummed. “I could see how engaged you were while you stood like this.” You crossed your arms and scowled.

“I did not look like that.” He scoffed.

“You did so!” You refuted, lowering your voice. “My name is Lucius Verus Aurelius, the Last Gladiator, son of Lucilla and Maximus, grandson of Marcus Aurelius.”

He looked down, mouth upturning a little. “I do not sound like that.”

“Is that a smile?!” you gasped. “Gods above, I never thought you could unless you were attempting humor!

“Away with you, woman.”

You only laughed as the sun was starting to set.

There was something called a “Fullmoon” period in a marriage. Most now would say it’s “Honeymoon”, but the period in time where a man and woman were in a complete state of euphoria together was called “Fullmoon” because it only lasted for a month.

You and Lucius (even with your strange circumstance) were not immune to this.

A month later, when you had fully settled into a mundane life of working in different areas for hours upon hours, the only times you saw Lucius was when you ate dinner with the farmer’s family, and before going to bed.

It didn’t’ effect you that much for the first three months, as you both were still on good terms and were fine simply cohabitating without affection. This marriage was purely for protection and to honor Lucilla’s wishes.

Then…Lucius came to you one day, saying that together, you both had enough money to build a farm. He already had a patch of land picked out from the help of the famer who employed him. It was five miles away from the farm you stayed at. Five miles more of a journey to the city.

You would move in once the walls were built, which he said would only take a week or two.

It was too fast for you.

Still, you had to go along with it, because you were to be his wife; nothing more. Even so, nothing out of the ordinary besides your hidden, simmering annoyance happened between you two.

The first day construction was to be done was when light was shed upon it.

“Lucius!” You called his name as you approached him and a few other men hauling the wood and stone that would be used. It was mid-twilight when you ran to them.

He furrowed his brow, walking towards you. “Aren’t you meant to be in the city?”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shook your head. “I asked for the day off because of the house. He said I-.”

“-You need to go back and tell him you’ll work.”

Your smile fell from his usual, monotone demeanor. “He doesn’t expect me to come in today-.”

“-Then he’ll be happy to see you.”

“May I just talk for a moment?!” You yelled.

His said nothing.

Sighing, you began. “I will be useful in any capacity. If you need me to help dig for water, measure supports, lift anything-.”

“-Your shoulder cannot carry-.”

You retorted. “-It might be the shoulder you shot, but it’s the shoulder I have to live with, and I will tell you if something is too heavy to carry.”

It hadn’t been the first time you brought up your shoulder after Rome was free. Yet, in the past, it was always out of good fun; something to say to him when you didn’t want to carry as little as an egg from the chicken coop. You told the children the story too why you had to set one of them down after carrying her for so long.

You expected them to cower away from Lucius when he returned for supper, but instead, they all tackled him to the ground to defend your honor.

They didn’t hurt him of course, and you laughed until you couldn’t breathe.

Yet, at that moment, you said it with nothing but disdain; and he heard it in every word. You thought it would have been enough to guilt him into letting you help, you made sure of it.

Lucius titled his head back toward the main road. “Go on, now. The sun will be up soon, it’ll be better to walk without daylight beating down on you.”

The audacity he had. Usually, on the times you’d have disagreements of sorts, you’d try to leave with dignity; perhaps a word of sarcasm or two.

No, you simply turned on your heel and marched away in a huff.

You were harsher that day when translating, and you were still angry by the time the day ended. You ate dinner outside by yourself (until three of the seven children came outside to eat with you), and did not utter a ‘goodnight’ to Lucius before laying down to sleep.

Neither of you spoke to the other for days after that.

It was one morning, not even when the sun was out, as you tried to tiptoe around him, did he ask from his makeshift bed.

“Do you remember where the house is?”

You nearly fell off the ledge of the hayloft. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Do you remember?”

“Yes!” you whispered, afraid to wake the whole farm. “Why?”

“We made the water pump, and the walls and floors are finished. We’ll be able to sleep there now.”

“I don’t see the appeal in sleeping in a house with no roof.”

“I’ll put half of it on today. Tell your foreman too that you won’t be able to work for the next week.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“I’m teaching you how to tend to a farm.” He wrapped his blankets tighter around him and turned his back to you.

And you continued on your way; making the long trek to the city, which would only be longer when you moved to the house.

When your work was over, you walked and walked. You took a short break at the farmer’s house, making your final goodbyes to the children, and gathering what little belongings you owned.

As you tried to leave, Diana stopped you. She was leading one of the horses, a berber, behind her.

“Take her,” she handed you the reins. “you shouldn’t have to walk so far.”

You shook your head. “I simply cannot-.”

“-I insist.” She smiled. “She’s yours now. Think of it as payment for helping me with the little beasts that are my children.”

Smiling politely, it soon faded. She took notice. “What is it?”

“…I’ve only ever ridden once, and I was a child.”

She sighed yet was still kind. “Come on, my husband’s horse is at your farm. I’ll ride back with him.”

Despite your inexperience, it was actually nice riding a horse. It was perhaps the closest you could ever come to flying in your lifetime; maybe that’s why you enjoyed it. As you were nearing your soon-to-be home, you saw a familiar silhouette along with some others.

Atop the house, against the setting sun, you watched as Lucius continued to add tiles to the unfinished roof. His shirt was off, and even with night beginning to set in with the cold air, he was still breaking a sweat from the rigorous work. You would be a liar if you say that you didn’t catch yourself staring, and it was Diana who had to take the reins.

“What a fine home!” She broke you out of your trance, and when Lucius looked in your direction, you snapped your gaze away.

Lucius nodded. “All that needs to be done is the roof.” He jumped onto the ground just as you were sliding off the horse. He gave you his hand as you were, and you took it.

“Thank you.”

Atticus and the other workers went to a lone tree where their horses were tied. Atticus then approached both you and Lucius.

“Well,” he smiled. “it was lovely hosting the both of you. Please come back as often as you can; I’m sure the children will miss you.”

You all exchanged your final goodbyes, and it when everyone rode off away from you, did you realize something. This was the first time in a while you were alone with Lucius that wasn’t when going to sleep or waking up.

“Do you have a name for the horse?” Lucius asked.

Turning over your shoulder, you led the steed to the tree, petting her as you began to tie her up. “Not at the moment. She’s yours too, do you have any?”

“You’ll be with her more; you should name her.”

Humming you looked at him when you finished securing the horse. “You asked them to give her to me, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “They asked how they could repay you for taking care of their children, I mentioned how it would be a longer journey to the city once we moved here. That’s all I did.”

…He was better at asking for forgiveness than for permission; that was another thing you learned about him. Still, you nodded your appreciation, inspecting the area around you. It was quite beautiful even with its plainness. The fields stretched on for miles, and there were no tall buildings to cover the night sky. Even the unfinished house brought a sense of happiness to you.

Something that was, at least partially, your own.

“Where will the barn and chicken coop go?” You questioned.

A hint of a smile played on his mouth, but in Lucius fashion, did his best to hide it. “You were complaining about not having a roof, and now you wonder about things for the animals?”

“Perhaps I’m more interested in farming that you are.”

“I’ll teach you.” he led you into the house. “Come on.”

The front living space was large, and in the corner of it had an oven, so that was where the kitchen would be. Lucius showed you the two rooms as well; each having a single pillow and a blanket.

“We’ll begin planting tomorrow.” he announced. “I don’t think I’ll have to wake you up.”

“You won’t.” You nodded. “Goodnight, Lucius.”

“Goodnight.” He said your name.

You didn’t think you’d ever get over the sound of your own name from his lips.

You named the horse after your mother. Well…not the exact same name, but a similar one. It was quite a scene too when confessing to Lucius you could exactly remember how to ride a horse by yourself.

He didn’t laugh at you, that was what greatly surprised you. He spent an hour teaching you, and you were able to ride her on your own.

Farming was more difficult than you thought it would be, but not so horrible either. Yes, where Lucius was patient with you for the first few days, he made a few snide comments as time passed. Nothing outright mean, but still enough to get under your skin.

Still, you managed to pick it up within the few weeks after that.

He had even let you help him finish the roof of the house; something you didn’t expect him to do. After living in the house for a month, both of you managed to buy actual beds for your rooms, among other luxuries like a few tables and chairs for the main living area, and utensils both for cooking and for eating.

The bathroom was completely bare. Having spent all the money on everything else, it would take time for the both of you to buy a bathtub. Bathing wasn’t a problem back on Atticus and Diana’s farm, but now being away from them, you would be forced to rely on the public baths in the city…

Even with some bathhouses having baths only for women, that did not stop men from forcing their way into them.

You didn’t mind being dirty for weeks on end.

The two of you fell into another pattern of life; you going into the city and spending hours translating foreign dialogue, and Lucius working on the farm for most days, sometimes accompanying you.

There was…something else strange as well.

It was always a coin toss on what weeks Lucius would speak to you or not.

Yes, he was always a man of few words, but this was different. There were some days when you asked him about his day, he would tell you what boring tasks he did. Than, on others, it was just one word: “Good.”

Never “Bad”, never “Just okay”; only “Good”. Even when you knew it wasn’t, that’s all he would say.

And you could endure it.

It had already been a little over half a year since the two of you started living together. In the eyes of Rome (as mere Plebians), you would be married once a year passed.

This was perhaps the best marriage you could as for as a Roman woman. Still…every day that Lucius would not speak to you only brought more dread upon your shoulders.

When he stopped even looking at you, that was when you went to Diana one day.

“It’s so lovely to see you.” She smiled, setting down two cups of wine and sitting. “It’s felt like ages!”

With her youngest baby on your lap, you chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “You honestly didn’t need to get the wine out.”

“Nonsense!” She waved her hand. “It’s a celebration just to be in your presence. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

“How’s the farm? Lucius?”

“Well,” you took another sip, setting your cup down. “the farm has been alright. I know at least how to properly water crops and know when they’re ready to harvest or not. I help Lucius sometimes, but…he likes things his own way. He was a farmer too, I understand.”

She hummed. “And as a betrothed? I hope having your own home would help; to me, you two treated each other more like acquaintances than anything else.”

All you could do was avoid eye contact and bounce the giggling baby on your knee.

“Ah.” She sighed. “So not much has changed?”

“We both talk more than we had at your far, but somehow, less at the same time.” You explained.

Diana reached over and held your hand, asking softly. “When was the last time you were intimate?”

As if she were a man, you tore your hand from hers. “What?”

“I do not wish anything to be forced upon you,” she stated first. “especially with what has happened to you. But…it is still important, especially to your future marriage.”

“We…we haven’t done anything in…months.” You were not going to tell her you hadn’t even seen him naked. You were not going to tell her you hadn’t done you “duty” as a woman.

She nodded. “There must be something plaguing his mind terribly.”

“I know that!” You cried. “He just won’t tell me.”

“Men do not like talking,” Diana sighed. “I have been married to Atticus for fifteen years, and even after ten children, there are parts of his past I still do not know of. What Lucius frets over is important though. You must dig your heels into the ground and let him know you are not doing anything until he tells you what he has issue with.”

The baby on your lap cooed as you held her, reaching for parts of your clothing. Diana took her from you once the baby started fussing, and you offered her a grateful smile.

“I’ll try my best with him.”

She squeezed your shoulder. “He will come to his senses. If not, then he truly hit his head too hard in the Colosseum.”

Except, you couldn’t confront him when you got home. Even though the sun was only beginning to set, when you arrived, the house was silent. You peeked into his bedroom and saw that he was already fast asleep.

With a sigh, you finished your nightly activities, and when the sun went down, you were in your own bed.

The nightmare was unlike any you had before.

Hands from all around you reached out to you. Some grabbed clumps of your hair, stuck their fingers into your mouth, caressed the most intimate parts of your body, or even tear your skin off.

You blinked and then you were in the palace, surrounded by cloaked figures. Someone forced you onto your back, and you looked up and saw Geta, raising a knife high above his head before diving it into your stomach. He carved it out before digging his hands into the opening he made and pulled out your womb.

After sitting up in bed, you had thought you awoken. When you opened your bedroom door, you were welcomed to a field of reeds, seeing nothing for miles. All but a silhouette in the distance. You could not make out it to be a man or a woman; all you knew was that you needed to run to them.

Yet, even as you dashed through the fields, calling out a name you do not even remember, your feet sank into the ground with each step.

The earth swallowed you whole before you could even reach them.

You didn’t awake with a scream; you didn’t even awake with a cry. You did awake in a sweat. Sitting up, you slowly pulled the blanket away from your body. Your stomach was unwounded, and nothing had happened.

Without knowing why, you rose from your bed and slipped on your sandals. Not even putting on a robe, you walked out of the house into the cold, night air. Numbly, you treaded through the tall grass away from the house and stopped.

The stars above you watched as you fell to your knees, and the past finally had the last laugh.

You wept for your mother (whose touch you never felt).

You wept for your father (who you had to take care of the same way he took care of you).

You wept for Marcus (the first man outside of your father to ever see you as a person).

You wept for Lucilla (the woman who saved you in more ways than one).

You wept for the innocence you lost to the twin emperors (and how you mercilessly killed them).

You wept and wept, until you felt bile claw its way up your throat and out of your mouth.

The tears did not stop even after you were finished.

Two hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you tried to tear yourself away with a sharp cry. You were turned around, and even though your tears blinded you, you could see that it was Lucius.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes grown.

You couldn’t speak clearly, only shaking your head and saying ‘No’ over and over. Lucius led you to the water pump and sat you down by it. Cranking the handle until the water flowed freely, he cupped his hand to catch some of it before gently washing your face.

The cool water grounded you, and your sobs began to slow. Once you were only left with shallow breathing and a stuffed nose, Lucius finally sat beside you.

“What happened?” He asked again, although, returning to his normal, straight-toned self.

“Bad dream.” Was all you said.

He said nothing at first. Then, looking down at the grass beneath him, he said. “Would talking about it help you?”

It was meant to be a helpful question, but it only angered you. “You ask that now? After I run out into the night screaming?”

Lucius squinted his eyes. “Why does that bother you?”

“I know you have nightmares too.” You scoffed. “I have asked you dozens of times if you wish to talk to me about them, and you have always said no. You’ve never once asked me about mine, so how dare you expect me to tell you about it now when you cannot even share yours with me!”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head.

You stood up, walking back to the house. “You’re right, it isn’t fair.”

He jumped to his feet. “You can’t walk away without telling me why this is troubling you.”

“You first.”

“What?”

You turned to face him. “We are to be married in less than a year, at least ‘In the eyes of Rome’ as you say, yet you do not even look at me anymore!”

His shoulders fell, and he shook his head. “I am looking at you-.”

“-I ask you how you are these days, and you lie to me every time.” You interrupted. “The few instances you allow me to work beside you, you criticize every little thing I do. I understand that I am the farthest thing you wanted for as a wife-.”

It was that word that struck a chord. Despite saying it every so often those past few months…it was only then it occurred to you that where Lucius was your first husband…you were not his first wife.

He tore his gaze away from yours, as if he knew you had figured it out. You sighed. “Gods above…I’m sorry for what has happened to her, and I will never know the loss of a love like that…but I cannot be viewed as her replacement-.”

“-Who told you that you were?” He sharpened his tone.

You swallowed, knowing that this would all end in tears no matter what you said. “You do not tell me anything. I will never ask you to care for me the way you cared for her, but she is gone-.”

“-I couldn’t do anything after she died but weep and watch her body float into the ocean.” He hissed. “I vowed to kill the man that slaughtered her, and I didn’t. It had been perhaps just a month since her death, did I promise myself to another woman. I have dishonored her memory three times.”

“I do not know how long you need me to apologize for something I could not control, but I will if that means you will stop hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You hate that I will be your wife!” Your voice was growing hoarse. “I don’t understand it at all. I will be whatever it is you wish me to be in few months’ time, because you will own me. Even if you wish me to be dead, it shall be done because what I want will not matter-.”

“-Must you make everything about yourself?!” He finally yelled. “Would it soothe you if I said I despised every part of you? That if Jupiter himself came down and offered me my old life in exchange for you, I would give you up to him?! Would it give you any peace of mind if I told you I would have rather died in the arena than live a thousand years with you?”

You had expected him to at least pause after he made his confession. To at least have the courage to look you in the eye and watch as the words sunk into your being. Yet, as soon as he finished, he stomped back to the house; and you were alone outside again.

The tears upon your face glimmered from the light in the sky above you, for all you could do was stare at the little farmhouse Lucius had built for you.

How strange that something you once saw as a sign of devotion, was now revealed to be one of complicity.

He had admitted his disdain for your future marriage. You knew that it would be loveless (you would never escape that), but you wished at least for respect. Seeing as how you were not even going to have that, you dragged your feet over to the tree where your horse was tied up. Mounting her with nothing but the clothes on your back, you raced down the pathway.

For the first day, you had stayed at Diana and Atticus’ farm. You said nothing about Lucius, and tried to spend the most time with the children to avoid any questions.

On the second day, you finally went back to the city. Even though the man in charge of you yelled louder than Lucius had at you, it did not phase you. You merely nodded and returned to work. With what money they paid you for the day, you spent it on a room at the safest inn you could find. You had another nightmare that night. Not as horrible as the one two days prior, but awful enough for you to lay awake until the sun rose.

The third day seemed to be ordinary, until you finished your job, and you were promenading along the market. As you eyed the fruit at Isidorus’ stand, a man came to stand beside you.

“Good sir,” you heard Lucius’ voice. “do you have a wife?”

Isidorus nodded. “I do.”

“What from your stand would you give her if she was angry at you?”

He eyed you before smiling at Lucius. “My ears to listen.”

You turned, promptly walking away. Of course, Lucius followed.

“I didn’t know you confided into strangers about our qualms.”

“He’s not a stranger.” you kept trying to lose him. “And gifts will not suffice for an apology this time.”

He got in front of you, uttering your name. You stopped, sighing. “What else have you come to say to me?”

“That I am a fool.”

Although you weren’t necessarily expecting him to admit it, you only nodded. “You very much are.”

He began. “For my entire life, I was not allowed to be entirely truthful with others. Whether it was how I felt in the moment, or even my own name. I’m not used to the freedom of being candid with one another. And I have been mistreating you; I have provided a home, but I haven’t provided your wellbeing. Ari-.” Lucius paused, breathing through his nose. “Arishat and I lived on a farm, that was all I knew while being a husband. I will love her until the end of my days, but that does not give me the right to neglect you. I will…I will try with all my being to share my thoughts with you.”

You stared at him, feeling as if you would blink, and you would awaken from another dream. Yet once you did and saw that he was still in front of you, you said.

“I didn’t mean to insult your memory of her.”

He shook his head. “I believe she would hit me if she were here and saw how I treated you.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “Truly, for everything. I…it’s not only you, I don’t know if I will ever feel like myself after…everything.”

Lucius already knew. Still, looking around himself, he then said. “Where is your horse?”

“The inn I’ve been staying at has a stable. You walked the whole way here?”

“It’s what I deserved.”

“You smell horrible.” You mustered a shy grin.

He mirrored you, looking away. “I have for a while.”

“I do as well. I was…I was going to brave the baths; would you like to join me?”

Your offer took him by surprise. Usually, a question like that would be an invitation to more salacious activities to take place. Still, what took him aback more was how you were initially so afraid of the public baths, yet there you were.

“I shall.” He agreed.

Thus, the two of you walked beside one another. There were many baths in Rome, yet it would be challenging to find one that had a separate bath for women and one for men. By the time you reached the third bathhouse, you sighed.

“This will do.”

Lucius shook his head. “I’ll ask the workers at this one if they know-.”

“-No.” You stopped him. “It’s fine. I wish to speak more with you.”

He was still hesitant, but gave in. The two of you entered and drifted off to the separate changing rooms. It was strange that the bathhouse had rooms for the different sex to disrobe, but not baths itself.

After locking your clothes away, you ventured out into the main pool. You were welcomed to an array of naked bodies. You weren’t entirely innocent of course, even before everything. You were never to see any of these people again; it was Lucius you would live with.

Quickly, you disappeared half of your body under the surface of the water and clung to the wall of the large bath. Other people around you laughed and socialized, only putting you more in the eyes of men who only came to the baths for one thing.

Yet, before you could take a moment to worry, your eyes fell to Lucius who entered. You soon averted them and felt the water shift beside you as he entered. You turned to look at him, leveling yourself with the side of the pool, essentially shoulder to shoulder with him. The hear radiating off of his body onto yours reminded you too much of that night months ago; the one where you whispered your name into his ear.

“What were you like as a boy?” You questioned in an attempt to hide how flustered you were.

He hummed. “Why do you ask?”

“If you wish to be more honest with me, than I think it should be best to stary with something minor.”

“I understand. I was spoiled growing up in the palace. Still, I wished nothing more than for adventure. All my life, the mere thought of war and battles were taught as a way to bring glory to the empire; pride for one’s family. I had gotten my foolish wish when Maximus died, and my mother sent me away from Rome.” He paused momentarily, before continuing. “I ran all across the land until I was thirteen, where I finally settled in Numidia. I had changed my named too many times to count and settled upon Hanno.”

Your attention did not waver for a moment. When he was finished you asked. “How old were you when you left?”

“Eight…” There was a sad silence between the two of you. A silence held in almost reverence for all the troubles he had been through. “What about you?”

Even with your uneasiness to answer your starkly different childhood, you did so; also have been promising to be honest with him. You spoke of your father, your past friends, the house you grew up in. He never once looked upon you with envy or hatred.

“Your father sounded like a good man.” He said.

“He was.” You nodded, feeling a weight settle in your chest. "I think he would have liked you.”

“I can only hope.”

The conversation halted after that, unknown if you should wait for him to ask a question, or for you to ask another. Both of your eyes drifted around the bath house as people filtered in and out. When your gaze fell back onto Lucius’ you watched his eyes flicker to something behind you. Before you could utter a word, he placed his hand upon your bare back, bringing his lips to the space between your ear and your jaw.

It all happened so fast you had no time to react, and your body shivered upon the feel of him being so close to you.

“There’s a man eyeing you from behind.” He whispered into your skin. “Don’t look at him, just keep looking at me. I’m sorry.”

You pulled away slightly, doing as he told. He traced circles on your back with his thumb, staring intently at you. Even as you shrunk under his eyes, they did not frighten you.

Deciding to play along, you trailed your hand up his bare arm until resting on his shoulder. You felt his skin erupt into goosebumps and he took a sharp intake of breath.

“Okay?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just…it’s been a while.”

Anyone with any sense knew that meant more than one thing. It had been a while since he felt anyone’s touch; nonetheless, a naked woman’s.

From behind him, you saw a small group of girls all looking at you. They all looked a little younger than you, and acted like so, giggling loudly and talking without a care in the world. It was only then that you noticed they were looking at Lucius.

“Is there someone eyeing me now?” He attempted to tease you when he noticed your gaze.

You nodded, no hint of humor behind your voice. “A good few of them.”

“Is that so?”

You removed your hand. “I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“Wouldn’t mind what?” He pinched his eyebrows together.

“…Getting your release from a woman that isn’t me.” You were puzzled by his seeming ignorance. “You’re a man, I understand-.”

He said your name with somewhat of gasp. You didn’t listen one bit.

“No, I mean it. I will not be more selfish than I already have been, expecting you to remain celibate because I don’t think I will-.”

Lucius said your name again and you stopped. Even when you did, he said it a third time as if to know he had your attention. He continued to run his fingers up and down your back.

“I will not dishonor you-.”

“-I have been dishonored several times before, it does not matter-.”

“-Listen to me.” He said softly yet firmly. “Even if I desired someone carnally, it is not selfish of you to want my loyalty. I’m not a boy who wishes to bed anything that breathes. I don’t think I can do so with someone I do not have any deep feelings for. You are my wife, and I will not treat you less.”

He didn’t call you his ‘betrothed’. As if, the moment you accepted his apology, you were already his other half. To hear him speak with so much certainty after neither of you knowing what any day would bring…it brought an astonishing comfort you never knew you needed.

“Thank you.” You felt like your heart could beat again.

“You don’t-.”

“-No but I do. I don’t…I don’t think I could give you anything of myself if you wanted it. It’s still…I remember a lot of what Geta did to me, and I forgot it at the same time. It doesn’t happen a lot in my nightmares, but it still does. That one night you found me he…he cut out my womb and held it in his hands. I thought I woke up, but I didn’t, and I think I was in Elysian Fields, but I only saw a shadow. I don’t know what any of that means.”

Lucius let you finish all of the anxiety you had thrown onto him. Still, releasing a shallow breath, he said.

“You die in most of my dreams.” He clarified. “The bad ones, I mean. A lot of people do, but you’ve been in them the most. There are times I see both you and Arishat, or my mother, or all three of you and…those are the worst. The night I found you outside, I couldn’t…I had a horrible dream that I couldn’t even see your face, but I knew it was you when I found you hanging in the Colosseum.”

If the both of you weren’t naked and, in the bathhouse, you would have embraced him. Yet, with the most understanding look in your eyes, you brought your hand to the base of his neck, his loose curls between your fingers. You swore you felt him relax into your touch for just a moment.

“I’ve known everyone to have their own beliefs of dreams.” You whispered. “They’re meant to predict the future, they reflect the past, they are punishments, they are blessings, and they mean nothing. I wonder if it’s possible they are all of them.”

He nodded. “I don’t know what I believe in anymore.”

“I do.” Lucius unknowingly leaned into you just ever so slightly. You grinned from ear to ear, pulling your hand away from him. “I believe you need to cut your hair.”

He chortled. “I’m not spending anything on cutting it. It’s fine.”

“I’ll cut it then.”

“I would rather be stabbed.”

“Oh, quit being dramatic.” you playfully swatted him. “There’s a reason I would’ve been a better hairdresser than tailor.”

The two of you teased one another for a minute longer after that. Than, even though the conversation died, it was not in vain. There was a quiet gentleness and protectiveness as you both shared a short distance between each other while bathing. Lucius kept his eye on you more than you did him, knowing that it was always possible a man could try to take advantage of you.

When all was said and done, you got your horse from the stable at the inn, and the two of you rode back to the farm with a newfound understanding of each other.

More than a year and a half have passed since the fall of the Roman Empire and its subsequent birth of the Republic. Your strange marriage with Lucius grew into a friendship of respect and understanding. You both talked more than you had when you were first betrothed, even if your busy schedules remained the same.

The farm had improved after its first harvest, even raising enough money to build a chicken coop and house a few chickens. The house itself was more furnished, and the two of you managed to purchase a bathtub, no longer needing to use the public ones in the city.

Both of you had changed as well. Even with what minimal farm work you did, it built both your strength and stamina. Lucius had begun to grow out his facial hair; not much for it to be an actual beard, but more so just under his nose. You’d joke about it looking like a caterpillar, to which he would lightly shove you away.

After the intimate discussion the two of you shared, it was only then you both realized you still didn’t know much about each other. Most importantly, the little things that made each of you a person.

So, you’d take time to get to know one another.

You were helping Lucius pull weeds around the crops when you found out he had ripped a monkey’s throat out with his teeth during his very first gladiator fight.

You were reading a collection of poetry one night when Lucius told you that you mouth the words of whatever you’re reading if you find it most interesting.

During supper one night, Lucius ate the entirety of the plate only to then eat whatever else you hadn’t. That was when your theory was proven right; he does forget to eat sometimes.

Both of you had tried to keep the housework to an equal amount; if he cooked one night, you’d clean the kitchen and vice versa. Yet, some remained stagnant; you always cut his hair, yet he always changed the horses’ shoes.

Cutting his hair was perhaps your favorite way to speak with him.

“Remember to clean your sandals before coming in next time.” He reminded you as he sat on a tree trunk outside. “You tracked in mud.”

Standing behind him while trimming small hairs, you shook your head. “My apologies, master of the house; it was downpouring and I was freezing.”

“Serves you right, I’d say.”

You placed the tip of the shears against his neck. “What else do you have to say?”

He snickered. “That you’re an astonishing woman who I am blessed to have.”

“Wrong answer, all lies.” You pretended to stab him, only to bring the shears back to his hair.

“I’m not lying!” Lucius laughed.

You only gave him a ‘tsk’ before continuing. “Are you sleeping any better?”

He said nothing at first. Your eyes drifted down to his hands and saw him pull on his tunic; another telltale sign of his nervousness.

“I keep seeing my mother’s face.” He admitted. “Only her face, nothing else.”

“It was the third night last night, right?”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “Would you want to hear a dream I had a few days ago to make you feel better?”

“Better because it was happy, or because you think I’ll feel happy I wasn’t you?”

“The latter.”

“Tell me.”

You turned his head to the side gently, continuing your work. “I stood in front of the entire senate of Rome, and they were all laughing at me. I don’t even know what I said, they only laughed and laughed.”

“Is that not what happened to you in the waking day?”

“No, they listened…I think.” You shook our head. “It more so angers me that, in the waking life, I presented logic to them, and they still chose Macrinus who showed nothing of the sort.”

“Some men like to speak of only desiring logic yet run away with their emotions once it is presented.” Lucius stated. “What had you told them?”

“That all of Rome would continue to riot if they killed Lucilla.” You said grimly. “I still don’t understand; they had their proof of the rage Rome’s children could feel when their general was killed, the only reason the city did not fall was because Macrinus was slain. I’m done.”

You set your shears down and Lucius stood, shaking the fallen hair off his clothes. He turned to you.

“If it matters at all, I think the only reason this house hasn’t fallen is because of you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you shoved him playfully. “Away with you, you’re just as much of the reason as I am.”

“I do all that I can.”

There were moments like this where you would not speak of childhood memories or events of your day. These moments were reserved for the days where it felt like time slowed down just to give you two the grace to speak about them in more detail.

With only a single candle between the two of you one quiet night, you told him how you have to walk a different path in the city sometimes simply to avoid brothels; hating the sounds you would hear from inside, the stench of cheap perfume and sweating bodies burning your nose, the men who would brag to their friends about the women they had.

At breakfast one day, before the sun had even rose, Lucius told you about a time when he was ten, still on the run. He had gone into a man’s house with the promise of food, only to then be hit the head with something so heavy, he was knocked out. He had awoken in a dark room, but managed to find a curtained window, and escaped. He never knew what would have happened to him if he had woken up just a minute later.

There was tenderness you shared with him that you had never shared with anyone in your life.You sht

That was only more apparent on one fateful day.

The first bad omen for the day that morning was when you had run out of sugar for breakfast that morning. The second was when your horse was extra stubborn as you rode her into the city; it was so out of the ordinary, you wondered if you did something to make her hate you.

Still, everything was fine once you went to work. At least it was for the first half of the day.

There were aggressive people from across the land coming into the city you certainly had to deal with, but the worst was when a man twice your size bluffed you with a slap. Even so, the other men you worked with had yelled and sent her away.

That day though…there was a woman with a look in her eyes.

You thought you had seen pure rage when you had been with Geta. Yet, that day was a lesson to you; wrath had many faces.

She mumbled in Greek, but you did not know what she said at first. Then, she attempted to speak Latin. You politely told her you could speak Greek, and so with exhaustion, she told you that she was going to visit her mother.

When asked for her mother’s name, she didn’t say it. After asking again, she became enraged, yelling at you that she should just be able to be let in. When you resisted, she grabbed your bad arm, yanking it to pull you closer to her.

The pain shot through your shoulder like a bolt of lightning, and you cried out. She tugged on your hair as the men beside you tried to pry her away from you. Luckily, she didn’t manage to yank any of it out once the men forced her away from you. Tears fell freely over your face as you cradled yourself, unable to stop the sobs from leaving your lips.

They let you leave early yet paid you as if you were there the whole day.

The ride back to the farm wasn’t any better, but at least your steed took notice of your heartache and was more merciful to you. When you made it home, you slowed her down when you saw Lucius limping towards the house.

You both stopped where you were, staring at one another as if you weren’t supposed to be seeing the other.

“Why are you back so early?” He asked first.

“Why are you dragging your foot?” You asked second.

Lucius took a deep breath, and you saw tears in his eyes. “I fell.”

The only time you had seen him cry was when burying Lucilla; it wouldn’t be from simply falling. You slowly pulled yourself off your horse but did so quick enough before he could rush to help you. You wished nothing more than to pull him into the warmth of the house, to sit him down and tend to his wound to distract you from your own.

Yet, the moment you took his hand, he began to weep.

“Oh Lucius.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to cradle his face. He wrapped both of his arms around you, bringing you onto the ground with him. You yelped a little when he squeezed your bad shoulder too tight, and he pulled away.

“What happened?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You need-.”

“-What happened?!”

Knowing he wouldn’t stop asking, you told him. “Someone at the gate attacked me. Pulled on my bad arm, my hair…it wasn’t as bad as you’d think-.”

“-Where is he?” He lowered his tone and his demeanor.

Your jaw dropped into a surprised huff. “She is long gone by now, and even if she wasn’t then as my husband, you should stay with me instead of wandering the streets of Rome hoping to find someone to be your anger’s victim!”

Though he still wore that rage upon his face, it soon fell once he saw your own tears fall from your eyes like dewdrops on flowers. Lucius laid himself flat on the dirt, and you sat above him.

“I have been married to you longer than I had been to Arishat.” He confessed. “I knew her for longer, but-but not as deeply; no, I-I knew her more than…I don’t…It’s been long since her death, yet there are moments I think of her, and I cannot stop crying.”

You never knew this was in his heart. You knew to never speak of Arishat, only listen whenever he would bring her up (even so, it was once in a blue moon).

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled, trying to pull himself together. “I know she is gone, and I shouldn’t be-.”

“-You shouldn’t what?” You interrupted. “Remember her? You think I wish for you to forget the woman you so loved?”

He shook his head. “No, but it’s selfish of me to-.”

You were the one to make him lose his words this time. With both hesitation certainty, you placed his head into your lap. It was too late for you to stop once you did, and you felt your own body tense. Then, upon taking a look at his body battered from rigorous work, and another at his face, which relaxed with his eyes fully shut, you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Lucius,” you sighed. “never will I think you are a horrible man for mourning her. You missing her shows just how much you adored her, and how she was a treasure to you. In another life, above all, I wish I could have met her. You are not in the wrong for wanting to see her again. I know you do not love me-.”

“-I do love you.” He opened his eyes upon saying it.

Your heart felt as if it was going to beat itself out of your chest and run away when he said those four words. To preserve your sanity, you took it a different way and smiled sadly.

“Not in the way you loved her.” You said softly. “But what else more can I ask for in a husband than one who treats me with a gentleness I did not know was possible? One who has been there to protect me even before we were married?”

Lucius took a deep breath, rubbing his face to clear away his tears. “You’re too good to me.”

“Gods above,” you groaned tiredly. “we can go back and forth on who deserves each other. Let us just go back into the house, have supper, and sleep.”

“I would like that.” He hissed as he went to stand.

Helping him, once he was on his best foot, you said. “You never told me what you did to your leg.”

He looked behind him at the field. “There was a snake and a rock.”

You gave him a look. “And what happened with them?”

“I don’t wish to speak of it.” He said grimly.

In any other instance, you would have laughed. Yet, as his eyes were still heavy from crying, you just nodded. The both of you helped each other into the house, and you sat him down on one of the several cushions in the living area.

“Your arm,” he asked. “how bad is it?”

You shook your head. “Just really sore. I think she might have left a nasty bruise or two somewhere, but I won’t know yet.”

“Put one of the cloths in the pot with water and put it over the fire.” He told. “Take it out after a few minutes, let it rest for another, then put it on your shoulder. It should help.”

“Thank you.” You stood, doing so, saying. “I swore we had bandages somewhere. I’ll make something for you to drink too; I bought some herbs just last week.”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you as you worked. If it were any other man, you would have felt unsafe; yet, it was only Lucius.

Little by little that night, both of you helped heal one another.

Half a year passed since that night, and you and Lucius had only grown closer. Perhaps as close as you could be with a man who was not your husband by choice.

Not much on the farm had changed; you two were living comfortably, and happily, almost making all the turmoil from the first year worth it. The both of you decided to make more visits to Atticus and Diana’s home, realizing just how much you both missed having someone to talk to outside of each other; but that did not mean you had to keep things hidden of course.

If anything, you shared everything with each other.

So much so, that when Lucius asked you why you held onto him longer when he embraced you on your birthday, you told him the truth.

“I don’t want every time we touch to be when it is in turmoil.” You explained, growing meeker. “And I…I’ve missed the feeling of it when it has not been forced upon me.”

Lucius stared at you with a look you had never seen from him. He had been gentle with you many a times, but they way his eyes fell into yours…

He took a step closer to you, and when you showed no sign of discomfort, he took your face into his hands. Your eyes shut at the feeling of him, and he pressed his head against yours. Never in your life had someone’s breath upon your skin feel so immaculate.

From there on out, it always seemed like you had to have a hand on each other one way or another.

It started with holding hands whenever walking through the city together. He used to ‘lead’ you through the crowds in the past, but more so with a hand hovering over your back. No, him holding your hand meant he would have to go where you would go if anything were to happen.

Alongside this, he’d reach over and hold it at Atticus and Diana’s house; whether it was during dinner, or simply just talking. The eldest child had said what the rest of the household had been thinking.

“They’re finally acting like they’re married!”

Because even when there were no other eyes besides yours, he would still hold your hand. You wonder if it ever became a way for Lucius to ground himself; because it certainly did for you.

You hugged him more often as well. Those used to be for ‘substantial’ occasions; those being celebrations or heartbreaks. Now, they were incorporated into greetings and goodbyes. Of course, it only took a few weeks before they were than made into simple desires.

He would be cooking dinner, and you would come beside him to embrace him. You would be gathering eggs from the chickens, and he would wait for you to set the basket down before tossing his arms around you.

At night, it was normal for you both to trade spots as one of you would read a story, and the other would have their head in the other’s lap.

This happened on so many occasions, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise for what Lucius proposed next, but it did.

“If you don’t favor the question I’m about to ask you, then you are allowed to never speak to me again.” He said, his feet hanging off the arm of the lecti couch you both bought that year.

“Well,” you scoffed, sitting on the end of it. “I will have to speak to you again because we live together.”

“Would you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Never in your life had you thought that would have been his question. When you didn’t speak right away, he backtracked. “I don’t expect you to. I understand if-.”

“-The nights are growing colder.” You stated, no visible uneasiness. “I’ve noticed it, and I don’t think any number of blankets could warm me.”

He swallowed thickly, and this was perhaps one of the first times you’d ever seen him like this. “Yes…it’s cold.”

You nodded, and another beat of silence fell between you two. Standing up, you tugged at the seams of your dress. “I-I’ll go change.”

“Yes,” he sat up. “I shall as well.”

Disappearing into your room, you tossed your day clothes off then slipped on a nightdress. After pacing around the floor for a few moments, you gathered the courage to go out into the hall and knock on Lucius’ door.

It was opened as if he was standing right behind it.

He wore just a plain, tattered tunic, and said nothing; yet, you caught his eyes run down you before immediately bringing them back to your face. You were not even in his room yet, and already your body grew warmer.

“May I come in?” You asked.

“Yes, of course.” He stepped aside and you entered.

Somehow, you were no longer man and wife; you were two people who had just discovered a strange, yet burning, feeling that you both held for one another. A feeling that you were both afraid to say aloud…because then it would be real.

The only light in his room was from the moon just peeking through the curtain of his one window. Looking around, you saw that it was still just the bare minimum; a bed, a small table beside it with a lamp, and a dresser. The only others things of note were his sword leaning against the wall, and just a few dirty clothes on the floor.

“I-I tried to clean before you came.” He mentioned.

“Is the rest under the bed?” You asked.

He chuckled. “Yes.”

Before you could change your mind, you pulled the covers off one side of the bed and slid under them. Glancing behind at Lucius, you saw him wear a look where you knew he wanted to say something.

“What is it?” You asked.

“That’s usually the side I sleep on but-.”

You rolled over to the other side. “Are you content now?”

He wheezed, moving to his designated side, slipping under the covers. “Very.”

“Good.” You smiled up at him.

His own mouth lowered as you could see him thinking. He then said. “I don’t expect us to do anything.”

You watched as his eyes dropped from you, as if it was too invasive just to merely look. Thinking from only your heart, you scooted closer, resting your hand on his arm. You ran your fingers up and down his muscles, but then guided his arm to wrap around your waist.

“Okay?”

He hummed, pulling you just a little closer. “Yes.”

“And we’ll just lay together?” You whispered. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

And that’s what you did. The compete truth was that you would caress him only to remind yourself that it was Lucius and not Geta. His arms, his back, his face…he was nothing like him.

After a few more nights, you told him that as you both lay awake, unable to sleep. He had pulled you on top of him that night, saying that you could see his face better in the moonlight. You only giggled, hiding your face in his chest; even that was too much for you.

It was easier to tell each other things in the darkness. You always knew that, but with being in the same bed (you had not gone back to your room for a week), the words flowed out of both your mouths.

“After my father died,” you said one night as you laid on your side facing him. “I would stroke my own hair or even my arms and pretend they were someone else’s. Even when I was with Geta.”

Lucius stared at you, then immediately began to caress your cheek. You shut your eyes, sighing at the feeling.

“I never thought I’d be able to sleep next to another woman again.” He whispered.

“And now?” You looked into his eyes.

He stopped his movements, but did not remove his hand. You watched every part of him. How his chest heaved shallowly, his arms tensing ever so slightly, but his eyes…gods his eyes. They were heavy as they looked at you; a look that made your heart flutter and not shutter.

Swallowing your fear, you sat up and inched closer to him. Your face hovered above his, and your breath heated his skin. His hand continued to trace shapes about your cheek, and shutting your eyes, you placed your lips upon his.

It was the gentlest kiss you ever shared with a man.

You had pulled away, dreading to see how he felt. When your eyes befell his gentle smile, and his other hand came up to cup your face, you kissed him again.

And again, and again, and again.

You climbed upon his lap without pulling your lips away from him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sat up, his own arm encircling your waist and drawing you impossibly closer.

Lucius parted from you, and as you whined at the loss of his lips, they soon settled upon your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your chin. Your heavy pants turned to soft grunts as he kissed down your neck, his mustache scratching your skin in just the right way.

Your hands settled into his hair the lower he traveled, moving your night gown off your shoulder to kiss your collarbone. You felt yourself becoming intoxicated from him, and only then noticed you had been for a while.

Oh, how you wished you could bottle up his laugh, his strength, his stubbornness, and get drunk every night. His kisses only added fuel to the fire that was your desire for him.

He sunk his teeth into your skin, and your body, once enflamed, ran cold.

“No!” You tore yourself from his lap, nearly falling off the bed.

Lucius said your name, leaning forward on instinct but soon stopped once he saw you crawl away. “I’m sorry.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. All you knew was that you needed to go, so you did. Cradling yourself in your arms, you got up from his bed, rushing out of his room and into yours.

You half expected him to knock on the door, then, when you wouldn’t answer, him yell and curse you before breaking it down. Yet nothing of the sort happened. You heard his own door open, and you saw his shadow on the other side, but he did not touch your door. He left after a moment of waiting.

When his own door shut, did you finally cry.

You told yourself that night, you would wake up far earlier than Lucius would so you simply wouldn’t have to see him.

When you awoke, you did the exact opposite. You laid in your bed, trying to return to sleep, only to be forced to lie in the dark. The sun rose into your room, and you heard Lucius’ door open. Still, you did not get up.

It was quite comedic, actually. With your door still shut, he knew you were still home. How he tried his best to keep quiet for you, yet his footsteps had always been heavy, the front door had always creaked, and you could always hear him cursing under his breath every time.

When you knew he had left the house, that was when you stood from your bed, slipping on your sandals. You didn’t bother changing out of your nightdress, leaving your room, and then the house.

Lucius was amongst the chickens when he saw you. He didn’t bother hiding the surprise upon his face at the sight of you. You walked to him until there was little space between you.

“Last night-.”

You took his hand from his side, placing it upon your face. He rubbed your cheek with his thumb as if it was natural. Kissing the palm of his hand, you trailed it down to your clothed breast. He breathed your name with hesitance, but you shushed him. You held his hand there, not taking your eyes off him.

“I will show you, one day.” You told him. “I will show you the mark Geta had made. The one where I myself can scarcely see it, yet I know that it haunts me. But now…” You brought your other hand up to his face, tracing your thumb over his lip. “I just want you to understand.”

He kissed the pad of your thumb, nodding. You embraced him, and he held you with both gentleness and ferocity. The rest of the day carried on as normal, yet you aided him with the chores on the farm.

You went to bed with him that night, but it was the first time he did not entrap you in his arms. You knew he was still afraid of hurting you, but you would be a liar if you said you weren’t thankful for the space.

Still, he would feel your touch every day; whether it was something as small as brushing his hand, or as substantial as kissing his cheek.

As the both of you lay awake one night, you played with the sleeve of his tunic.

“Could I lie on top of you?” You asked.

Lucius looked over at you, nodding. “You never need to ask.”

“I want to.” You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. “I never want to force you to do anything.”

His eyes fell to your hips before returning them to your face. “I’ll tell you if I wish to not do something. I hope you know you can as well.”

“I do. Would you like to touch me?”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

You moved his hands to your hips, which he held firmly, yet not enough to hurt you. You leaned down so your lips touched his.

“No teeth.” You said.

“No teeth.” He repeated.

Lucius sighed into your mouth as you kissed. Despite how you were on top of him, the kiss was sweet, shy even. When you pulled away, you trailed your lips from his cheek to his ear.

“Do you dream about me?” You rasped.

He said nothing, and you continued to kiss every part of his face besides his lips.

“It’s okay.” You kissed his Adam’s Apple. “I want you too.”

“Yes.” His breath hitched.

“What was I doing in your favorite one?” You kissed his pulse point.

“You,” he breathed sharply through his nose. “you’re touching yourself.”

“Would that please you?” You sat up in somewhat surprise, resting your hands on his chest. “To watch me do so?”

He shook his head. “I want to do what pleases you.”

It felt foreign to hear someone say they want you to feel good. Instead of cowering from it, you faced it head on. You kneeled for a moment, hiking your gown up to your hips before sitting back on your ankles, exposing yourself to him. Lucius’ jaw clenched at the sight of your naked center, and he drew his hands away from your hips, falling them into fists upon the mattress.

“I wish to watch you as you watch me.”

Without looking away from you, he drew his hand down to his cock, pulling it out from under his tunic. Your eyes grew just a hint. There was no doubt upon him being more well-endowed than others, but it was still different from how you imagined.

Shutting your eyes, you trailed your fingers over your cunt, your thumb playing with your clit. The sounds of Lucius’ smothered grunts, and the skin of his cock on his fingers only added to your pleasure. Digging deeper and moving faster, you felt a coil within your stomach tighten when you opened your eyes and saw as Lucius’ gaze bore into yours.

Light moans escaped your lips as your hips moved with a mind of their own, watching the man beneath you take pleasure from his own hand. It was him chanting your name like a prayer that sent you over the edge. With your eyes shut, the coil within you snapped, and pleasure filled your veins.

Not long after, you felt a warmth coat your nightdress. Opening your eyes, you looked down and saw the white-hot residue of Lucius’ release. Your gaze drew to his cock, still clutched in his hand, yet red with droplets of white running over his knuckles.

You don’t know what possessed you to, but you lowered your mouth down to clean him with your tongue.

“Gods be good!” He huffed, laughing your name.

“What?” You wiped your mouth.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

Grinning like the devil, you slid off the bed, walking towards the door. “I hope it’s a pleasant one then.”

He sat up. “Where are you going?”

“To change. You dirtied me as well.” You teased.

“Take one of my tunics from the dresser.”

It almost made you laugh that he didn’t want you to leave for even a second. You opened the top drawer, grabbing the longest tunic you could find before facing him. “Close your eyes.”

He laid on his side, putting a pillow over his head. Many would find it strange how the both of you would see the most intimate parts of yourself while doing one of the most intimate acts together, yet you didn’t want him to see you naked.

But Lucius never thought of it as strange. He knew what you had been through, and never once judged you.

When you were clothed, you slid into bed, wrapping your arms around his body and pressing a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

“You’re a good man, Lucius Verus Aurelius.” You whispered. “I will tell you that until the day you die, or when you finally believe me.”

He squeezed your hand, relaxing into your touch. You never slept so peacefully until that night.

You always had to see him whenever he would touch you so intimately. There would be nights where there was only a single candle in the room as he trailed his hand up your thigh whilst you sat on his lap.

His fingers were too much for you at first, but he never ridiculed you. When you whimpered at the feeling, he retracted them, kissing your eyes. You asked him again to try, and he whispered praises into your hair as the pain from a dry spell soon turned into pleasure.

It was usually at night did these moments of exploration occurred. In the day, the most you would ever do was kiss. That is, until the first time you cut his hair since the discovery of feelings.

“I don’t want to get hair on your floor.” Lucius said as he sat on the floor, leaning his back against the foot of your bed. It was hotter than sin that day. He wore nothing but a loincloth, but that barely did anything to help him from the heat. You wore essentially a thin shift that would usually be under your dress; yet again, because of the heat, that was all you wore.

You sat on the bed, legs draped over his shoulders as you cut his hair. “It’s your floor too. You built the house.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I haven’t slept here for a while now. Besides, I will clean up.”

“I had no idea you favored doing domestic work now.” He turned and pressed a kiss to your knee.

You slapped the back of his head. “Don’t move! I’ll give you a bald spot if you do so again.”

“Yes, my mistress of the house.” He joked.

“You’re horrible.”

“You just told me I was a good man not so long ago.”

“And I can just as easily revoke that title.”

He stayed silent the rest of the time, but not from any underlining anger. Simply from his at ease posture, you knew he was smiling.

He smiled more those days.

When you were finished, you tossed your scissors aside, but Lucius’ hands settled upon your thighs, not allowing you to get up. You scoffed.

“What is it?”

He turned to face you, kneeling up to meet you. “I wish to try something, but only if you wish it as well.”

You rose your brow, but smiled, kissing his nose. “It will be difficult if I do not know what it is.”

Without drawing his eyes away from yours, he slid his hands up your thighs, bringing the bottom of your shift with it. It seemed normal at first, but once he lowered his mouth, your chest tightened.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I want to kiss you there.” His breath caressed your cunt and you mewled at the feeling. “I think you’ll enjoy it, but we don’t have to.”

Your heart changed from beating in fear, to then in anticipation. You loved how he kissed your lips, and every inch of your skin that was not covered, what would it feel like to have his lips there?

Kissing the top of his head, you laid on your elbows, nodding.

“Let me hear you say it.” He nosed the inside of your thigh.

“Yes.” You sighed. “Please.”

He lowered his mouth back down, pressing the lightest of kissed onto your center. You groaned through shut lips, only for them to part open as the hairs of his mustache tickled you whilst he began to lap at your wetness.

Tossing your head back, you sat up, running your hands through his hair, unconsciously rolling your hips to meet his mouth. His groan reverberated through your body, only adding to the pleasure you were feeling.

“Lucius, Lucius,” you babbled his name until it didn’t sound like a word.

His nose bumped against your aching clit the same time his tongue penetrated your cunt. You yelped as that familiar, tightening feeling swept over you. His half-lidded eyes would stare up at you every once in a while, as he would continue to drink from you as if he had been stranded in the desert. Just as you were on the brink of release, you drew him away from you.

“What-what is it?” He huffed. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, pressing your lips to his before scooting further up the bed. With one last breath, you pulled your shift over your head, revealing your bare body to him. His gaze ran over your figure unashamedly.

“Come here.” You beckoned.

He crawled onto the bed and over your body, yet still looked at your face. You took his hand and laid it over your breast. His body ran cold at what was on the side of it. A bite mark.

“He branded me all those years ago.” You confessed. “And it has not left since.”

Geta…

You ran your hand up his chest. “I love you, and I trust you with every part of my body. I need you to know that.”

“I love you.” He echoed, pressing the tenderest of kisses to the mark and you gasped lightly. “I have for so long now; I…I need you.”

“Then have me.”

He sat back on his knees, unwrapping his loin cloth and tossing it to the floor. Precum leaked from his sweltering cock as it stood upright like a pillar. You crawled over, kissing every inch of his face and climbing into his lap. He drew his arms around your waist, his finger tracing circles into the small of your back.

“I don’t know how long I will last.” He puffed heavily. “It’s been so long.”

“I just want you inside of me.” You kissed his jaw, taking his cock into your hand and sinking down onto it. It had been a while for you too, and while you were soaked, it was not enough to completely subside the tightness. “Just…wait.”

“I could die happy if all you wanted was for me to remain still as you’re above me.” He said into your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin because that was the only way to remind you that he was still there. The further you sunk down on him, the easier and more pleasureful you felt.

“I’m going to move now.” You said into his shoulder, and you did.

Slowly, at first you relished in the quiet slapping of skin and the breath moans leaving both you and Lucius’ lips. He trailed a syrupy line of kisses down your throat until he bowed his head to place them upon your chest.

“Your name,” Lucius said into your skin. “tell me your name.”

You gave him a look as you rolled your hips into his, yet sighed your name.

“Again.” He breathed, latching his lips around the tip of your breast.

You did.

“Again.” He kissed the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into his touch, saying your name a third time.

He repeated your given name, than following it with ‘Aurelias’. Your movements stilled, yet he did not care.

“You are the most cunning woman I have met, and you are my wife.” He stated, never looking away from you. Tears sprang to your eyes when you saw the same for him, and you gave him a messy kiss before resuming faster this time.

After months of being called a name that did not belong to you, especially whenever in the bedroom, Lucius was doing everything to remind you that you were yourself again as you felt pleasure.

It felt as if, after two years, ‘Julia’ was finally gone.

You chanted his name as if it was your favorite prayer, burying your hands in his hair and kissing his lips.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius…”

Because, just like you, how long had it been since his true name was uttered whilst in the throes of pleasure?

He moaned into your mouth, holding onto you tighter. You squealed when he rose up onto his knees, latching your legs around his waist and only crying out sharply when your throbbing clit ran across his pubic hair.

“Come on, come on,” he urged into your ear. “I know you can give it to me.”

“Lu-Lu-!” You moaned, running your nails over the thick field of muscles that was his back.

He said your name over and over again, until it was one word that was the end of you.

“Please.”

You came with your vision blinded from the state of euphoria you had reached. Lucius still held you above him even as his legs began to quake, bouncing you on his cock. You felt as though you were suspended in air when his groans stammered, and you felt strings of his cum paint the walls of your cunt.

Slowly, he lowered the two of you onto the mattress, laying you on your back like you were the most precious treasure in the world. You kept your legs around his waist, breathing with him with your chests glued together from your sweat.

“Lucius-.” You began, trying to shift under him.

“-Just,” he grunted. “just another moment. Please.”

How could you deny him? Every kiss he gave was loving as he laid upon you. His cock had grown soft, and even you were aware that you could’ve fallen asleep if you weren’t careful.

When he pulled away from you, you let out an involuntary whine.

“I thought you wanted me to get off you?” He kissed your stomach when he stood up.

You shoved him playfully. “Just clean me up and come back.”

“So controlling.”

Still, he did what you asked, bringing a soaked washcloth from the bathroom and cleaning you. You groaned out of both the cold water hitting your hot skin, and the heat from the air itself.

“We should’ve waited until night.” You whined.

“Why?”

“I’m suffocating from the air outside!”

Lucius hummed, tossing the washcloth aside and looming over you. “Then that forces us to wear nothing today, so that we might cool down.”

You nodded. “Perhaps you aren’t as feeble minded as I thought.”

He settled behind you, tossing an arm over your waist and pulling your back to his chest. Even though his cock pressed against you, the two of you were completely exhausted from the heat of the day’s work, and the heat of what took place only moments before.

The only sound was that of the cicadas singing in the summertime. Sometimes, a breeze or two of wind would bounce the curtain off the window, but for the most part, just the even breathing you shared with Lucius was all you could hear.

Lucius’ mustache rubbed your skin when he placed a kiss to your neck. “What’s going on inside of your mind right now?”

You grinned. “A proper wife would say that I was thinking of you.”

“But that’s not what it is.”

“It’s something that has nothing to do with anything of note.”

He squeezed you. “Spit it out, woman.”

Sighing, you felt a sense of dread in your heart; both for your thoughts, and also how your husband would react. So, you tried your best to explain it.

“Do you even wonder how you will be remembered?” You began. “Spoken from mouths? Written in books? Painted on walls? They’ll remember Lucius, the Lost Son, the Last Gladiator…What will they remember of me, if anything? Rome’s Cleopatra? Her Delight? A whore to the twin emperors? I like to fantasize that they will name me the first woman who sat upon the emperor’s throne, even if it was as the last of its consul. Yet, even if they name me…I will be Julia. The name of a slave, the name I only accepted when he would press me into the bed so roughly. I only survived because I would need to tell myself that he was doing all of it to Julia, not to me.”

It felt quieter in that room, even though the sounds outside did not cease. Lucius gently turned your body towards him, and he stroked your face with the back of his hand.

“You’re crying,” he uttered your name, frowning.

You wiped your eyes, wanting to hide from him. Yet, he did not allow it, pulling your hands away from you and wrapping them around his shoulders.

“Would you wish I remain silent, or share with you what is in my head?” He asked.

“Talk to me.” You answered.

“I never cared of what history would see of me.” He stated. “Even as a boy. I know that we are different in most aspects of life, but I believe it serves no one to wonder away how we will be viewed long after we are dead. I do not care if or what a stranger thinks of me in a lifetime later. I care how Atticus and Diana see me. I care what their children think. Above all, I care of what you see me to be.”

You pressed your head against his. “You’re pigheaded and quite foolish sometimes.”

“And it matters you say that.” He pulled you closer. “Because that is what you will tell others when I pass on.”

“You know I don’t think that is all you are.” You remined him.

“I do.” He nodded. “I will know you for your wit, and your protective nature, and your kindness.”

“I never truly thought of myself as kind.” You gave a pained smile.

“That is how I see you.” He kissed your brow. “And what I will say with my last dying breath.”

You wondered how such a man as himself could exist at the same time you did. A man who hated you prior to everything yet laid with you in bed. A man who treated you with a tenderness you never thought possible.

A man who could be the last person on earth with you, and you would only feel at peace.

You did not need to say anything to him. Simply by the innocent smile that spread across your lips, did he know. You fell into the most comfortable of silences together as you laid naked in the summer heat.

The both of you were lost to time as we all shall be one day.

Perhaps you lived on that farm for the rest of your days, or perhaps you moved to a different land.

Perhaps you had ten children, perhaps you had only one, or perhaps you had none and were content with each other’s company.

Perhaps you died before him, perhaps he died before you, or perhaps you both passed onto the Elysian fields together.

All that truly matters, at the end of all things, is the life the two of you led together, and what you and loved ones remembered the most of it.

#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #hanno x reader #lucius x reader #lucius verus x reader #lucius versus x reader #gladiator 2 spoilers #Youtube

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leonw4nter · 7 months ago

Note

I really like ur fics with Leon as a dad 🤍 can I request one where it’s angst at the start but happy at the end? I think with Leon’s job he’s probably alway moving to new places and his wife is kinda at the point where she just can’t take it and worried for their kid?

My Baby Here On Earth Showed Me What My Heart Was Worth

Husband!RE:Damnation!Leon x F!Reader

“The kids are sleeping now,” you quietly tell your husband as you get into bed with him.

He hums a response, setting aside a copy of William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury as he gets up. To go look at the kids one more time for the night, he says as he walks around the foot of the bed and towards the door. You wait until Leon noiselessly closes the door, his footsteps growing fainter as he grows more distanced from you, to sigh deeply, sitting up to lean against the cold headboard as you bury your face in your hands for a moment. You love Leon and you know that he loves you and your kids too but he’s grown increasingly distant with each passing day after coming home from deployment to the Eastern Slav Republic. You’ve done your best to show that you’re there for him, initiating conversations and even giving him simple compliments but the most he’s done is look in your direction and nod. A hum and a forced smile, if you’re lucky and he’s feeling less bad about himself. He still took care of the kids, driving them to school and playing with them in the afternoons but it’s clear that his mind is far from home. Even the kids could sense just how weary their father is, doing their best to cheer him up by giving him colorful drawings and letters. “Don’t be sad, daddy! Me, Ollie, and mama are here for yuo!” one of them reads, the word ‘you’ misspelled but Leon loved it nonetheless. For a quick moment he genuinely smiled whenever he read the letters and saw the drawings again before the frown took its place in his face again as he put the artwork in a folder and placed it back in the drawer cabinet.

You lifted your head from your hands when Leon walked back in, silent as always as he headed back to his side of the bed. You stared at him, urging him to say something–anything, just to dissolve the wall that he put up around himself but to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t speak. He checks the time on his phone and decides that it’s far too late to continue reading his book and sinks down beneath the covers, muttering a nearly inaudible ‘goodnight’ to you before he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep. Hurt, you scoff at how distant he feels. Physically, he’s home and with you but you know that emotionally and mentally, he’s still on the other side of the world and dealing with Tyrants, Lickers, and corrupt leaders. Turning the lamp off, you sink into the sheets as well and turn to face the wall. You have so much to say, so much to express to him but you’re afraid that this will only push him further from you even more. Worst case scenario, he packs his bags and sleeps in a hotel for a week before coming home plastered. He’s never done that before but you don’t want this rift to widen to the point he even considers doing that, maybe even leave behind the family he has with you for the enigmatic woman in red. Inhaling deeply, you shut your eyes before you speak to him. You don’t even think deeply about what you’re doing before your fears get to you and force you to shut up again.

“I can’t keep doing this, Leon.” You shakily begin. “We can’t keep doing this. I’m here for you, so are the kids, but you’re pushing us all away.”

“I need space.” He responds. Short and curt, straight to the point but you wish he said more.

“What does ‘space’ mean to you, Leon?” you gently ask as you sit up and face him who is still curled up on his side, his face hidden away like a secret. “I just want to know what I can do to support you while also giving you some time alone.”

“Leave me alone. There. That’s the kind of space I want,” he grumbles as he sits up, facing you. You stay silent for a moment, your sympathetic gaze on him but his eyes are elsewhere as he runs a hand through his dark hair, not wanting to see the look on your face.

“Okay. But let’s still talk, okay? Let’s voice out how we feel and communicate, I want to be able to provide you with what you need–”

“Why are you doing this?” Leon interrupts, not out of irritation but rather out of wonder. Your eyes widen for a quick moment before you inch a little near him, hesitant to reach out and place your hand on his hand.

“Because I care for you, Leon, and I don’t want to see you suffer alone. I want to be here for you and share the weight of the world on your shoulders too. You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, I can see it eating away at you.”

He doesn’t stop you when you take his hand, feeling the scars and calluses on them. He quite misses your touch, actually, but he felt like he was throwing himself a pity party whenever he thought about asking you for a hug or a kiss.

“I don’t want to bring home anything from work,” he explains. “I don’t plan on mixing it– work and home life… and I didn’t expect for it to get to this. That I’m pushing you and the kids away. I don’t… I don’t want my family to even think about how the monsters I’ve killed looked like or how I killed them. Something as precious as you three don’t deserve that. Our little ones, most of all.”

Pulling him in for the first hug in nearly two weeks, after two weeks of Leon trying to avoid your physical display of affection, he gives in. He leans his forehead on your shoulder but doesn’t wrap his arms around you and instead, lies limply on his side.

“Oh Leon,” you delicately whisper. Sushing and humming the same tune you used to hum when your toddlers were still tiny babies, you tenderly sway Leon from side to side in order to ease all the anguish he bottled up and refused to share. It doesn’t take long for his tears to wet your shoulder, his large frame shaken with stifled sobs. He went by “Condor One”, “Agent Kennedy”, and many other aliases required by his job but at the end of the day, he is your Leon Scott Kennedy. “Daddy”, as his dear children would call him.

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Leon slept in your arms, his head buried in your side with an arm slung around your stomach, for the first time in the longest time. He still shook and spoke in his sleep, flinching at times, but his sleep appeared to be much more restful. It was your turn to be unable to fall asleep now, a hand gently patting Leon’s shoulder blade with a watchful eye observing him. You were tired from the entire day and the crying you did with him hours ago but you couldn’t find it in you to doze off; you thought about your kids’ future and raising them, along with considering the fact that Leon was rarely home for a long time and was always moving to new places for indefinite periods. Each mission brought the fear that this would be the last time you’d see Leon alive, to be talking to you in person and that what would come home to you are two agents holding a folded flag, an urn, and what remained of his gear instead. It would be cruel for Leon, who proudly proclaims that his life has only begun when he met you. Leon, who knew what it meant to truly live when he found out that you were pregnant with his children. You knew that it also hurt Leon to leave at ungodly hours of the night when he was going to be deployed for a mission and to think that his kids would wonder where their daddy is and why he’s always gone. You’re used to Leon’s constant absence but it doesn’t hurt any less each time he has to go. His job is bad for your heart, constantly putting it in a state of worry and fear. It always stung whenever your kids asked if they could go with Leon when he had to leave on an “adventure” because they wanted to spend more time with him. You hated breaking the news to Leon that he’d have to miss out on another one of their school events, having to phone Chris or Patrick to attend in his place; he sounded so pained whenever he asked about the details of the event, his dreams of walking up the stage and being active in his childrens’ schooling playing in his head every time he closed his eyes for a quick nap before being back on his feet and killing monsters. Ultimately, you decided to give the kids a day trip with Leon since their only trip with Leon was when they were still babies. Sighing once more before giving sleep another try, you start to mentally compile all the things needed for tomorrow’s road trip.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“She’s already got a stain on his shirt and the ice cream hasn’t even melted yet,” Leon says with an amused grin as he tries to wipe the chocolate off of Euphemia’s pink shirt with a wet wipe. You’re preoccupied with watching over the other twin Ollie, who’s trying to call a stray cat and give the kitty a lick of his vanilla ice cream. You look back at Leon, who’s giving his daughter kisses as he got the stain to look a lot less dark than it was earlier.

“Pheme still tends to get ice cream everywhere,” you softly tell him as you offer another set of wipes, to which he declines since the stain isn’t obvious and the wipes could be used for later. Leon smiles when he notices you use the nickname he gave to Euphemia; he’s managed to get you to use this one instead of his other loving nickname for Oliver, “Rolliver Polliver”, derived from when Ollie almost ate a roly poly bug.

All of you finish eating ice cream without getting any more stains or a cat being fed something it shouldn’t be fed and get back to the car, hitting the road once more. Queen, Hall & Oates, Elton John, and The Flamingos have been traded for nursery rhymes and songs to induce sleep in toddlers in order to get them to nap a little bit. Instead of Leon sitting in the passenger seat with you, he decided to sit at the back in between the kids in order to spend some time being near them on the road trip. The twins seemed to have gotten their habit of sleeping with their head leaned back and mouth slightly ajar while softly snoring from Leon, who is also asleep with his hands on their child car seat. Caught in a red light, you quietly observe this tender moment in the front and snap a few pictures of them with your digital camera from 1989 that still surprisingly works well. You giggle at the sight behind you, heart melting at seeing your husband and children look so adorable. His jacket is on your lap when you told him that you were feeling a little chilly, insisting that he’s fine in the back without one. Just earlier, he was making funny faces and holding a serious, one-sided conversation with his little ones, making them laugh and giggle at his every word and now they’re all asleep together. If it means having more moments like this, you’re ready to fight the D.S.O. for keeping your husband occupied on the other side of the world. You guess that it’s also moments like these that Leon continues to fight bioterrorism so that other families can safely enjoy moments like this one without worrying about monsters coming to harm their loved ones. Since the red light is still going and you seem to have been caught in a moderate traffic, you take out your video cam and film the soft scene behind you. “Papa and the kiddos are sleeping together, their snoring isn’t in sync so there’s no moment of silence for me but I don’t mind. I love you all so much and momma is very happy right now.”

After nearly four hours of driving, you four finally get to the cliff overlooking the great wide sea. Parking your car to a safe place, you take out the picnic basket and start preparing your spot. You two chose a spot underneath the shade of a thick tuliptree, a cover from the hot sun. The kids have been asking so much about finally being able to play soccer and ‘helicopter’, a game where Pheme and Ollie hang from Leon’s arms as he spins around (the twins have promised to never, ever play ‘helicopter’ again because they got dizzy but they seem to have ‘forgotten’ it this time) and you explained that they can play an hour after having the picnic and when the sun isn’t so hot anymore. Leon agrees and although the twins don’t seem too happy, they don’t appear to mind it that much since they’re eager to help Leon in unloading the car (he gave them the lighter tasks). As soon as the food is set and most of the bugs have been successfully warded off, the twins gather to sit beside you but before everyone can take a bite of the sandwiches, Leon gets up and takes the digital camera and snaps a couple of pictures, even attempting a selfie at one point. Soon, everyone digs into their sandwiches and stuffs their faces full of the snacks you and Leon prepared together in the morning.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After what felt like the nth picture Leon has taken of you and the twins, he finally puts the camera down and puts it back in its case but picks up the video cam instead. The twins groan, urging their dad for more playtime even if they’re drenched in sweat with dirty knees.

“5 minutes,” Leon says as he starts recording. “Papa’s back hurts. Why don’t you ask mama?”

“Mama already played! She can’t carry us and she says she’s also tired! She’s reading now!” Pheme exclaims.

He points the camera towards you, reading a pocketbook in the picnic basket while dabbing your forehead and neck with a towel. He laughs and calls you, causing you to look up from the book you were engrossed with and blow him a kiss. He laughs one more time, ‘catching’ the kiss and placing it inside his shorts pocket which gets a giggle out of you.

“My beautiful wife is uhh sitting there, she’s reading.” He narrates as he zooms in. “Very beautiful, the sunlight is hitting her just right. Gosh, she makes me nervous and she doesn’t even know. Love her very much.”

He zooms out and zooms into his children, who decide to take interest in the rocks and starts flinging them towards the cliff with the intention to try to fling it to the ocean, which is quite far from where they are.

“Hey kiddos,” he says as he walks up to them and pats them with his free hand. “What’re you doin’?”

“We’re trying to throw rocks into the ocean!” Ollie and Pheme cheerfully explain, showing their rocks to the lens before flinging it with all their tiny might.

“Ooh, that’s quite far honey,” Leon comments. “Want me to try?”

The twins cheer and he takes that as an opportunity to throw one, the recording being temporarily shaky.

“Woah! You threw it far, papa!” The twins say and clap, determined to throw it as far as he did. He helps the twins throw it, focused on teaching them how to aim and the force they need to exert to fling it a little farther.

After several minutes of flinging rocks and random conversations with your husband and your kids, you call them over to look at the pictures Leon has taken. Everyone gathers around you as you look at each one, oohing and aahing at Leon’s photography skills. Leon focuses the cam on the pictures popping up in the digital camera, chipping in with his thoughts.

“Mommy looks amazing there,” he breathily says. “Divine. What’d you think, Pheme?”

“So pretty!” She beams before giving you a big kiss on the cheek. Ollie giggles and snuggles closer to you, occasionally pointing to the pictures.

Like you guessed, most of the pictures are of you, the kids, or both. Observant like their dad, they picked up on this as well.

“Pa, you’re not in a lot of the photos! It’s always us or mama!”

Leon chuckled, ruffling his kids’ heads. He extends a pointer finger to a shadow in the image before you switch to another one, pointing to the tall shadow once again.

“That’s me,” Leon explains. “I’m the shadow.”

His twins seem confused, falling into silence along with you, who is also intrigued by Leon’s words.

“When you look at these pictures when you’re bigger, I want you all to know that I’m always here. These are proofs that I’m with you because I’m the shadow and I’ll always look out for all three of you,” he explains

The twins say ‘aww’ at the same time and tackle his legs, hugging him tight. While you set the camera down and look at Leon with a small pout and slightly glossy eyes. Leon chuckles softly and places a free hand on your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek before you join your twins in giving him a big bear hug as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you, Leon.” You softly tell him, warm breath fanning against his neck.

“Me too, sweetheart. I love you more.” He tenderly responds as he hugs you and the kids back.

He’s thankful that this tender moment is caught on camera so he can rewatch it several more times before he goes to bed.

NOTE - I hope you liked this fic anon!!! At first, I wasn't super confident about writing this or how it'll turn out but I think it turned out nicely ngl :) YALL. I finally got my driver's license. I can drive. Do I know how to? I know the theoretical aspects of it but driving itself? Running a motor vehicle? I have yet to learn (it's on June 20-21 and my dad will teach me until I get better)... I also scarfed down a big spicy bowl of ramen coz I didn't have breakfast this morning <3 Also, It's not rlly embarrassing for me to be writing fics while my parents r sitting at the back (I'm at my living room) but making the border??? Looking for pics of Leon??? It's embarassing for me 😭😭 My dad said that my Chris capcorom looks like a Bánh bò and ngl I kinda see it 😭😭 There's a Japanese mall where I live and I'll be going there tomorrow so hopefully yk there's a copy of any RE book or manga (PLEASEPLEASEPLE) Anyways, that's it and thank you for readings my fics!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The wavy divider was made by @kaitsawamura , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

Text

Lovefool [dark!Konig x fem!Reader]

Konig gets to secure a little trophy from the battlefield. Hope you're in for a ride.

!TW! Kidnapping, Yandere themes, Dub-con, dark!Konig

Tags: Yandere, Dark Romance, colonel!Konig, dark!Konig, Size kink, Age gap(Konig in his thirties and Reader is in her twenties), Stockholm syndrome speedrun, Konig is a huge pervert, submissive Reader

You never knew who he was before he attacked.

Your teammates did – whisperers about KorTac getting on their tails, stories about their crazy psycho commander who could barely pass a word to his subordinates while smacking heads off trained men in full armor. Spooky tails for the recruits who refuse to train in their free time – something about “If you aren’t getting in shape by the end of the month, König is going to get you”.

You never knew who he was – you barely knew the organization you worked in.

Cyber security, lowly private military. They are hiring based on CV alone and didn’t ask for a fancy college and a few degrees in hacking that you could never get. They wanted experience, and you had at least a bit of it – you passed through basic training, never serving in the military before, but fine with promises of never actually going out in the field since you would be giving them intel and cyber support from the sidelines.

Well, they never told you that “the sidelines” would be 100 meters away from the actual battlefield.

You don’t even remember what the mission was about – something important, you guess, because they asked you to be here, on sight, computer in hand, and your comrades, with whom you barely talked outside of work, alongside you. Something about weapon smuggling, though you never actually understood if you were stopping it or doing it. Working in the middle of the European Union pays a lot, and it sort of counts as free travel – you’re somewhere in Germany, maybe on the border with Poland or Austria or Czech Republic. Nothing but fields of grass and occasional mountains. They gave you a riffle, a sidearm, and instructions to try not to get too wounded since they wouldn’t be dragging your body out of the field. S[read sheet with intel opened on your computer – you’re not their secretary, but at least they don’t want you to hack the Pentagon.

You heard screams from your tent: “KorTac”, “Compromised”

“König”

What was the weirdest thing – he was alone. A single man shouldn’t be able to take on a team of trained mercs, even as lowly as your company was. You all had weapons, armor, and means of at least taking him down as a group – and you were like a bunch of babies with toy guns on the playground when a pitbull came in.

Your leader fell first – you saw his head explode with a perfect shot right between his eyes. no one screamed sniper, but you still ducked under the field table, hoping that it would save you a few minutes of peace before you’d manage to delete all of the important files from your laptop. This was the protocol – if you are in the middle of dying, you need to first make sure that the enemy won’t get a hold of precious company correspondence and deeply personal photos of your cat.

You leaned forward to see what was happening on the field – you heard screams, you heard gunshots, you heard…

Laugh.

Deep, loud, the laugh that sounded both malicious and cheerful at the same time. It sounded like the man had a field day of breaking necks and stabbing his teammates. You've never seen so much blood on someone. You wish you never had.

Your teammates are falling like porcelain dolls when the elephant hits the kitchen, and you are trying your best to be a good little hacker and not let your company down before your inevitable demise. Turning on your laptop, waiting for whatever ancient version of Windows you had since the budget was mostly going into flashy guns and cool night vision headsets, you are getting ready to format all the disks when….

“The Windows update is in the process. Please, wait approximately 9 hours to complete”

Oh, hell no. You are not going to wait another 9 hours, you could barely survive for the next 9 minutes! Of course, naturally, obviously, you can just turn off the computer and get it off work because the files will get fried up and it won’t turn on again, ever. Which would still complete your goals, so…

— Come on, please…f-fuck, please, just let me…

“As a method of complete data loss prevention, Windows has disabled the ability to manually turn off your computer. Please, wait approximately 9 hours to complete”

— Found you, Maus.

Something – a hand, big, covered in the type of protection you never saw on your fellow soldiers – yanked your ankle, dragging you from under the table you were hiding under. The air stinks of blood and you involuntarily whimper, hands are going to grab the laptop. You need to smash it, destroy it, maybe just drop it hard enough on the floor, push it against the wall, and try your best to kick it enough to damage the disk and prevent KorTac from accessing the files.

The guy steps on your hand, taking the laptop away. You swear to god you hear a crack – you prayed that he would accidentally smash the laptop, but it was your hand under his boot.

— Hurts? Good.

You whimper as he carefully puts the laptop away, checking if it’s still working. He then returns to you – laying on the floor, fingers still shaking in pain, and attempts to grasp for the computer that was snatched away. There is nothing you can do – you have a gun, yes, and he has at least three guns and deadly man-bear hands, so even if you were fast enough to draw a gun before he would, he can just kick you like a puppy.

König – it’s him, it must be him, your teammates were screaming his callsign and talking about a devil who wears a sniper hood and has the height of a not very small tree – kicks you in the ribs, turning you from the side to your back, facing him. If you were stronger, you would do something cool – bite his ankles, for example. Or spit in his face as the last remaining tip of your dignity, before he would kill you or torture you or feast on your flesh.

— Verdammte Feiglinge, can’t even face your death like a man. Look at me, ja?

Crying isn’t a shameful thing to do. So, you cry. Soft little whimpers, sniffles, you are probably looking wet and disgusting, but you hurt, scared, and fucking tired and you want out of here, and you never actually wanted to be a soldier, and they all lied to you while promising to keep you out of the field, and this uniform is horrible, and you feel your tears soaking the half of bandana you were using as a face mask and…

He snatches the mask from your face. Look you in the eyes for long enough to make your whimpers even more audible. You can swear to god that his pupils were dilated. That his hands were shaking. You could see his eyes getting scrunched in that particular way that their owner is smiling – sincerely, openly, from the bottom of his heart.

— Please…p-please, be fast, I don’t know anything, I will…I won’t, I…

Rough, calloused hand goes to cup your face. The material of his glove is tough and soaked in blood as he smears it on your cheek, your fingers are going to wipe away the tears – you don’t understand what’s happening and you are even more scared, and your mouth is twitching in a terrified grimace. He pushes the tip of his finger into your mouth, making you suck on the blood and dirt of the fabric. You think you are going to throw up.

— Quiet.

You don’t understand why he didn’t kill you yet. He is touching your face, slowly, his one hand is enough to cover your entire head and you’re sure that if he’d want to just squish your brain like a rotten cabbage, he could just fine. He pushes his finger even deeper in your mouth and you lick it involuntarily because this is an intrusion and you have the brain of a two-year-old who sees the world through their ability to devour things, and his pupils dilate even more. He looks at your frown, your tears, and your lips wrapped around his finger.

He yanks you on your feet embarrassingly easy.

— You’re a hacker?

You blink a few times. Now, the protocol is that no, you can’t state who you are, If he knows that you are a hacker, he can take you away for interrogation, maybe torture you for passwords and the intel on your company, and being tortured isn’t something on your monthly calendar. Now, the protocol also states that you have to be able to die for your company, and…

He grabs your neck, lifting you – surprisingly gently, softly even, a hand supports your waist so you won’t be able to either kick him or get choked to death because of his grip.

— Answer me, Maus. I might have a reason to let you live.

You do want to live. Maybe not long, definitely not until you’re 100 years old with dozens of grandchildren, but being able to live past the next few hours and then days and then weeks does sound incredible.

— Y…yes. I’m a cyber security specialist.

He squeezes your neck more. Pushes you up, making you cough in your grip. You never experienced anything like this before – never had a guy strong enough to handle you like this. It would look cool from the side, probably – like something from a videogame. It would look hot in the porn, probably, if it was consensual and happening between two passionate lovers.

But you are his enemy, and he is yours – cold blue eyes peering right into yours. He is looking at you like a piece of meat, and not even in the lustful, hungry way. He looks like a butcher in front of a very good beef cut, thinking about where should he sink his knife to get the best steaks. A hunter standing over the wounded deer, thinking if he wants your head above his fireplace or taxidermy your whole body as a wicked trophy.

— Didn’t know they’d allowed someone so fucking small in the field.

You can swear to god that you saw him smile, under this hood. You can’t see his face, obviously, only the blood-soaked fabric and his eyes, but something still tells you that he is smiling. Enjoying your attempts to escape, maybe – you tried to kick him a few times, producing a deep, amused chuckle from his lips. He holds you so easily like you are nothing but a sweet little kitten. You might not be as big as him, but he still shouldn’t be able to lift a grown woman in full gear with just one hand. Right?

— I’m not…not s-small.

You don’t have much fight left in you. You are on the verge of just asking him to kill you, to be honest, your neck hurts and the pain spreading from your fingers pulsates and transforms. You hope they are not broken – even though you understand that your chances to live past these few minutes are very slim. Even your usual snark is lost, forbidden in the hands of a giant who likes to play with his food.

You do feel like a mouse – in a way that you would die under his boot very soon.

He – König, monster, colonel, fucking deadly mercenary – chuckles again. You can get used to this sound. Melodic almost, in a way that most alarms are melodic while telling you about inevitable catastrophe.

— Kleine verfickte Maus. Ich wette, dass du auch ganz eng bist.

He is laughing, again. Laughing and chuckling and you can’t take it anymore because he is so obviously stronger than you, it’s not fair. You want to put your foot on the ground and tap it like a spoiled brat, like a baby on the playground whining for their mom to take them home because other kids don’t want to play by their rules. The difference in skill is so obvious, that you aren’t even able to put on some sort of fight.

— Wh…I don’t speak German.

Your other hand – the one that didn’t get squished under his boot – goes to scratch his arm. Maybe put up enough struggle that he would accidentally let you fall right from his grasp. He doesn’t react and you feel hopeless. Weak, useless, you remember all the times you decided to miss training so you could just chill in the lounge with other rookies or do something on your computer.

— You will, Maus.

Then, there is only darkness.

***

You woke up…somewhere.

Come to think of it, it wasn’t the first time you woke up. You remember opening your eyes, feeling the vibrations under your cheek, hearing the noises of a car or other vehicle moving fast. Too fast for your already spinning head and stomach – you don’t remember if you were coughing or vomiting, but the movement wasn’t stopping to ever let you breathe. You were being transported somewhere, without a chance of knowing where you were heading. At least now, when you get to the final, as you think at least, destination, you’re clean.

As much as someone tied up to a chair somewhere that reminds you of a basement can be.

You’re stripped of your weapons obviously – not like you had a chance to use them anyway. Your hands are tied behind your back, your legs are bound to a chair, and your tragic lack of clothes is…more evident than you wanted it to be. At least you still have your underwear on – it still didn’t make the situation better. He saw you naked, completely, and he might do god knows what with you now.

Although you have some feelings about what he can do with a weak enemy hacker, half-naked and tied up in a secure place.

You would panic, but it requires energy. A resource that you don’t have right now.

— You woke up. Gut. Started to think I went too much again.

His accent is weird, you think. The thought only occurs to you now, when you can hear him more clearly while not being that afraid of getting out of this alive. His voice is weirdly calm for someone of his size – you want to think of gentle giants but this man is far from gentle and is almost too big to even be called a giant. A colossus, you want to say.

— Again?

Your voice is raspy, both from your sleep and from lack of water. When was the last time you drank anything? Probably more than a few hours – your throat is dry as sandpaper, and your head is dizzy from both your trauma – he either strangled you to unconsciousness or beat you hard enough – and the dehydration. You don’t want to spend another minute in this basement – you think this is a basement, at least, the high humidity on the walls and some garbage tossed to the corner is fairly evident. It’s large, too – you never saw anything like this. It might be a KorTac prison, but the remains of a bike and a few shelves of canned foods tossed to the other side of the room tell otherwise.

— We’re allowed to take trophies home. Sometimes I get…impatient.

You’re in his house? Does a monster like him even need a house?

“A trophy”

Funny how you don’t even feel that dehumanized. He didn’t kill you, you don’t feel the evidence of violation on your body – you are clean, neat even, your stomach and private parts aren’t hurting, and, as much as you hate to say this while tied up to a chair, you are as comfortable as a person in your position can be.

— What are you going to do with me?

You shake like a leaf. He finally steps closer to you, coming from the ladder – you can hear the lock and a heavy door being closed, setting your hopes of escape. Not like you could, in your position – the bruises already forming on your legs and hands, a numbed pain in your head and fingers. You feel shitty and comfortable at the same time, trying to tune off the discomfort and just concentrate on talking to him.

He didn’t kill you – this is good, you can work with this.

He left you alive – this is bad, he is going to torture you, he is going to do a million terrible things with you and you are not a part of a regular army, You didn’t get the torture resistance training. Maybe, if it was some of your friends, other girls in the group who got through military school and never missed gym to sit on their computers, they would have survived. You never felt so weak before – not even on the battlefield.

God, you’re scared.

— Your computer. My employer needs the info you had on it.

Oh.

It’s not personal, at least. He is here for the information, not to take advantage of your weak, fragile body. It made you almost feel at peace, almost made you forget about your lack of clothing and the damp basement you’re being put in.

— What sort of info do you need?

You slowly start to wiggle your hands in your binds – he used plastic locks, those stupid unremovable things that are slowly cutting the soft flesh of your wrists. You can’t untie them, but you can try at least tear them on the metal of your chair. You can try to, just to say that you did, and not feel bad about not resisting him at all.

— Your last mission. You were trying to smuggle weapons into the EU border.

— We were trying to stop the smuggling of weapons.

At least, you think you were – your head hurts, your memories are dizzy, and they never actually told you what kind of job you had. Come to think of it, actually, you never asked whether you were the good guys or the bad guys – it was always about money, paychecks, getting your job done and not dying from lack of nutrition because most tech-jokey jobs are already filled with uninspired chatbots and graduates from fancy colleges with a dick between their legs. Not reserved for tired women like you – so you turn to, ironically, paramilitary organizations. How the tables have turned.

— That’s not what our intel says, Maus. Do you want to lie to me?

You don’t. You just don’t know if you are telling the truth or lying because you are too fucking tired to even think straight.

He comes closer, and you whimper involuntarily. His breath hitches.

— Scheisse…they knew who to hire.

He grabs you by the neck again, and you can finally see him fully – towering over you, cold blue eyes staring right into you. You sob, not able to handle your emotions because, oh god, he is going to rape you, torture you, and then put a giant burning stick right in your ass because everyone knows that this is the best way to hack a computer – you just need to find the person who put the password in the first place.

— Can’t you just hack the computer yourself?

He chuckles – you’re getting tired of that sound. You hate that you found his voice attractive, you hate the fact he is keeping you down here. You want to destroy that part of your body that likes the attention – how his eyes are only kept on you. Never had a guy kidnapping you before, and you fight the feeling of disappointment that strikes you when you remember that he is here because he needs the intel. Not because he wants you.

— It wasn’t a…conventional operation. Can’t waste manpower on breaking the walls you installed.

His hand goes to cup your face again – you frown, breathing stops because he is so close and he takes off his gloves, allowing his rough, calloused fingers to linger on your cheeks. He squeezes your face in an almost adorable manner and steps back again. You lick your dry lips again, trying hard to keep at least one part of your body moisturized, and his breath hitches again.

He goes behind you, ruffles through shelves – you can hear something falling, his awkward grunt as he had to pick it up. He is more clumsy than you though – more nervous also, hands are jittering and fingers twitching every time you look at him. Adorable, really, how this huge mess of a man can look so innocent and almost nervous in front of you.

König returns after a minute or two, holding…a water bottle. Closed, lid still on, little plastic wrapping in place. You have half a mind about just drinking it, even though he doesn’t offer it to you. Not like you could open it yourself, with how your hands are still tied up behind your back.

— You don’t speak German.

It’s not a question – it’s a statement. you watch him opening the bottle with ease, large hands are working on something so fragile and delicate. You can’t remember the last time you had sex, not with how fast your head is spinning and memories still foggy, but you think it was a long time ago – because you feel your cheeks heated from the simple actions of his large fingers ripping through soft plastic.

God, you don’t really remember what was happening before you got here, not in detail, but you know that you needed to get laid like, a year ago.

— No.

— You will.

— Wh…what do you mean?

Is he going to make you install Duolingo? Is this what it all was about? Some elaborate prank, a marketing campaign, a tough lesson for silly girls who think that knowing just your native language is enough to live your life and…

— When you want something, Maus, you have to say “bitte”.

If you were a strong and cool soldier, you would use this moment to jump from your chair, using the weight of your body to fall on him and make him lose balance, and then spit in his face as your last remaining blast of human dignity.

But you aren’t a cool and strong soldier, and you really need to drink.

— B…bitte. What does this mean?

— Please.

He is almost whispering, the water bottle tanging in his hands in front of you. You take your time, considering the possibilities – you can play like a good little prisoner and allow him to take your pride and just toss it aside. You can play like an obedient hostage and ask him nicely, hoping that it would be enough.

You don’t know what to do – appearing too shy and soft can give him…ideas. And you don’t want this crazed giant who is keeping you bound in his basement to get ideas. You can…you probably can spend more time without water. Or food. Or shower and change of position.

You take your time answering, and his demeanor seems almost…anxious. His eyes are darting between the water bottle and your face, between his hands and your body – like he can barely keep a calm facade and not force you into doing something nasty. Like he is almost afraid that you are not going to cooperate and he would really have to hurt you in a meaningful way.

— Can I have water, bitte?

— Gutes Kätzchen. Drink, you’ll need it.

In the end, you broke down first. Not because you are this weak, but because being a brat won’t save you in a situation like this. You don’t want to die over something as trivial as your pride.

König seems…at ease. He takes off the bottle cap and brings water to your lips, allowing you to drink as much as you want. You lick the remaining drops from your lips and he puts a half-empty bottle aside.

— I won’t tell you the password.

You mumble under your breath, barely audible. He chuckles.

— I count on it, liebe.

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #konig mw2 #cod #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere konig #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere imagines

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whatifitookalilnap · 4 months ago

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Headcanon Korra was the dumbass that kept accidentally pushing Asami in the friend zone and even though she had a MAJOR crush:

Asami, giggling and twirling her hair: heyyyyyy Korra!

Korra: hey! What’s up?

Asami: I’ve just noticed how stressed you’ve been and I figured we could get dinner and see a play

Korra: oh that sounds great! Are the boys coming or will it just be the two of us?

Asami, blushing: I mean I thought it would be fun for it to be just yeh two of us

Korra: I’d love to! It’s been awhile since I got some one on one time with you. I’ve missed spending time with my best friend!

Asami, eye twitching: yeah, me too

*some time later*

Asami: hey Korra! I got you a gift. Hope you like it!

Korra: that’s sweet, you really didn’t have to! Oh now I feel bad I didn’t get you anything

Asami: don’t feel bad, I just wanted to do something nice for you!

Korra, now holding a bracelet worth more Republic City: oooooh, this is pretty! Is this what people usually use for friendship bracelets?

Asami, sighing tiredly: sure, Korra. Sure it is

*later that day*

Korra, sighing: I wish she liked me back, but she only sees me as a friend

Mako: you USELESS BISEXUAL—

#avatar the last airbender #legend of korra #incorrect legend of korra quotes #korrasami #lok korra #korra x asami #lok asami #avatar korra #asami x korra #asami sato

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squad-724 · 1 month ago

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Oof I’ve had a couple rough weeks at uni, have padmecker artwork I’ve been slowly working on. It’s an illustration for a short fic of the two of them, a twin piece to @electrikworm ’s fic

“There.” Padmé sighed as she put down the stylus, a moment ago used to correct the few words of her next speech on the Senatorial Ball she was organizing with Bail and Riyo to warm her colleagues up to the clones. A small tactic to make them look more sentient and humanoid than what they officially were written as in the law. One step closer to the bill that would recognise them as citizens of the Republic.

She straightened up in her seat, her back cracking in a few places, making her wince. No matter how much the chair cost, five hours of no movement will make her body ache. And because of the non-stop debates in the rotunda she had no time to prepare it earlier; the ball was the next day.

Padmé took her time, finishing sipping the cold caf she got delivered back when there was still sunlight, watching the lights of the Planet That Never Slept flicker in the distance. She knew how they looked up close, both on the triple zero and in lower levels she so rarely visited; only going there for her rare dates that she still had to hide from the public. If the media learned about her relationship with a clone, the whole rights bill could be compromised.

Sometimes she didn't care, wishing to be able to take Wrecker to one of the fancy restaurants, let him taste all the amazing foods she could get him, to walk around in broad daylight, visit museums and opera. She wished she could spoil him as much as he deserved.

But it would have to wait. Padmé knew she would make sure he and his brothers could soon walk around as fully free citizens.

“You done?” The senator almost jumped out of her seat as a male voice came from the doors to her office space.

“On the moons Anakin you scared me,” Padmé let out a sigh of relief, and the jedi laughed at her reaction. “What are you still doing here, you were supposed to leave hours ago.”

“Eeeh, I think I should give Rex a little room to breathe. He almost strangled me after I threw him down that hole two days ago.”

“And you don't want to spend the night on observation with Kix.”

“And I don't want to spend the night on observation with Kix, and Rex WILL rat me out in an act of revenge.” He walked over to her balcony doors, grabbing one of the donuts she kept on her desk, her favorite one she kept for last. “I'll sleep at Snip’s new apartment, apparently she got a great deal from the landlady that had a good family history with the Order, and didn't need a down payment. I'll see you at the ball.” He waved her goodbye and jumped down the balcony. Padmé knew he called R2 to come pick him up, just as all the times he decided to have that dramatic of an exit. One day he would fall and break his neck, and that would be karma for stealing the best donuts.

There was nothing more Padmé wanted than to sleep. But she desperately needed to shower, and knew Clone Force 99 was about to enter the Coruscanti atmosphere in a few moments.

She met the squad only a few months back, the four clones called as her escort during a mission. At first she was surprised at the differences from normal troopers, but soon learned about their mutations and special enhancements that were made to them.

Each one of them was unique and interesting, but it was Wrecker who caught her eye, his eyes that kept looking at her with awe when he thought she didn't notice, but also the difference between his pure show of power in opposition of how gentle he was with her.

He had that charm and authenticity that all her previous suitors lacked, speaking his mind and not carefully picking lines of dialogue they practiced before each meeting. He was himself at all times, and who he was was a man of big heart. And Padmé couldn't deny him the beautiful musculature and tanned skin.

And now, after three weeks of a comms-out mission, he and his brothers were coming for a personal debrief with commander Cody, and to crash at her flat for a few days.

She already stocked her fridge with food, readied her three guest rooms with a fresh set of beddings and towels. Yeah maybe she was playing favorites with that, but no one deserved being pampered like these four. Especially Wrecker.

As she waited for the clones to arrive she took a quick shower and brushed her teeth, finally getting rid of the acidic aftertaste of caf on an empty stomach. Once she put on her face mask, she got a ping on her datapad reading “Be there in 5 ;)”.

Padmé got her droid to brew some tea when the doorbell rang out. All of her sleepiness evaporates in an instance when she runs to the door.

She isn't done opening them properly before a massive set of hands hauls her off the floor and into a spinning hug that ends with a keldabe kiss.

“Hi sweetheart,” Padmé breathes out, looking into Wrecker's mismatched eyes. She locks her hands around his neck, pulling him close into a proper kiss. Oh how she missed it.

“Ekhm, we're still in the doorway love doves,” a snarky voice brings them back into reality, Wrecker laughing as he moves deeper into the apartment, letting his brothers in. “Great. I'm taking the bathtub first.” A few voices of protest ring out as Crosshair bolts to the refresher.

“Sorry for the wait, there were some issues with the docking system and they didn’ want to let us down to the planet.” Wrecker finally let Padmé down, putting his bag down soon after.

“Not your fault, I just barely finished my job anyways, didn't have to wait for long.” She stood on her tiptoes to land another kiss on her boyfriend’s scarred cheek, making him blush. No matter how many times she did it, the giant clone got red after signs of any affection.

“Thanks for letting us stay,” Hunter all but collapsed on the couch, cup of freshly brewed tea in hand. He looked a little roughed up, his cheek covered in a fresh dressing, left eye sporting a bruise. “I don't think I could survive another night bunking on the ship with those three idiots.”

Padmé laughed as a choir of three voices raised up with a complaint. She sipped her herbal tea. She had missed this.

Not just Wrecker, but his whole family. How much life they brought to this otherwise empty apartment. The sound of bickering during breakfast preparation, doors opening and closing when they left for the town, repetitive whirring coming from Tech's room, muted music from Crosshair's.

“I am completely exhausted, so I'll be waiting for you in bed. I don't want to smell ANY grease or pickled feet when you join, so take a bath beforehand.” Padmé smooched Wrecker one last time, putting down her cup next to the dishwasher, before she wished the clones goodnight and retreated into her own bedroom.

As much as she complained about the costs of her sheets to Sabé, in moments like these every single credit spent on them seemed worth it. She slipped under the covers, sighing softly as the pain in her back quieted down just a little bit. She had to wake up in the morning for the last dress try on, and then get her hair done before the ball. How lucky she was that a highly experienced squad of troopers was available as her security for the event.

Padmé felt herself fall asleep just as the mattress next to her dipped significantly. Wrecker put his calloused hand on her back, sneaking it under her shirt and drawing slow circles in between her shoulder blades.

“Mmm I really need to sleep my dear, we will have the whole night to ourselves tomorrow.” she murmured into her pillow, relaxing her back under the soft pressure of his palm.

“Then sleep cyar’ika.” The trooper whispered, drawing his thumb up and down her spine, kneading the locked up muscles into relaxation. Padmé knew how firm they must have felt, and let her boyfriend smooth them out as they slowly fell into a rhythm.

“Does anything else hurt?” Padmé could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She could deny it, let him lay down next to her. But, it felt so nice to be taken care of like that.

“Right arm, think I was holding my stylus too tightly.” She didn't even open her eyes as she turned on her side, reaching out the hurting limb.

With a gentleness a man of his frame seemed incapable of, Wrecker took it, moving it to face the palm up, and began massaging it too.

He started with her finger, so delicate and small in the embrace of his giant ones. Each one was delicately pinched in between his pointer finger and thumb, joints muscles and tendons kneaded into relaxation.

Then came the palm, painfully wiry, with the muscles tensed and coiled from the long hours of no rest. Wrecker's fingers carefully massaged them, and Padmé let out a few hisses of pain before these too relaxed into comfy hums as her boyfriend helped her with the pain.

She thought it would be it, but he continued the comforting movements on her forearm, now his actions bringing her more of a relaxing effect rather than purely pain relivement.

Wrecker arms continuously moved his hands up and down her forearm, drawing circles with his thumbs, making her back shiver with pleasure. She didn't even realize how wiry her muscles got until he made them relax, his fingers digging into knots deep into her limb.

“How did you learn to do this?” She murmured, her voice partially muted by the pillow she was laying on. Wrecker’s mismatched eyes didn't leave her arm, but she definitely saw the slight smirk under his nose.

“All of us got some pains a massage helps with. I was the first to need them, my growing pains making my whole body ache until I couldn't move. That's when Tech found some texts on holonet to teach me so I could do them before sleep. Then it turned out that Hunter's migraines can be lessened if you relieve the pressure on the neck,” Wrecker's pressure on Padmé's arm became weaker and weaker, his body slowly sumping to the side. “Tech tends to fall asleep on the pilot seat and next to his workbench, and I deal with his back afterwards.”

The senator gently pulled her boyfriend to lay down, his heavy body hitting the mattress. He didn't say anything, but let out a hum of comfort, wriggling closer to her, wrapping his arms around her much smaller waist. He was very warm, making Padmé shiver.

“Mmm, I'm glad you're here.” she settled her forehead just above his heart, taking comfort in the sound of the beat. Strong, just like him.

“Wish I could stay,” one of his arms moved to the base of her skull, gently scratching her hair bulbs, often sore from the extravagant hairstyles she wore on a daily basis. The hair and dresses, what she was most known for. A beauty of Naboo, queen and senator Amidala whose spirit never yielded. Just like her looks she never did anything halfway, giving her everything into how she presented herself as how she protected the innocents of the Republic.

But there she was, her hair in disarray, wearing an old t-shirt and underwear that has been for sweet release of the trash bin for months, and Wrecker was here, calling her beautiful in the pure darkness, his arms a comforting weight. Here, she was Padmé Naberrie, spending one of her rare moments with a man that found her beauty not in the make-up, dresses or jewelry, but her genuine laugh, lacking cooking skills, and the ability to stand her ground to help him and his brothers become people in the eyes of law.

He would protect her planet, while she secured his future.

Thank you Manhattan for edits and beta reading!

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #clone wars #star wars prequels #padme amidala #padme naberrie #wrecker #tbb wrecker #padmecker #Padme x wrecker #fluff #pure fluff

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profoundbondfanfic · 6 months ago

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Do you have any recs for Reallyyy long fics? Like 200-300k+ words? That isn't 91W... avoiding that one because I feel like it will hurt me... preferably fix-its? Oh and no a/b/o pls :) thanksss

Here are a few:

Angel's Wild by riseofthefallenone (Explicit, 389k words)

But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels. Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Bitch Better Have My Money by Duckyboos (Explicit, 256k words)

How Dean Winchester - mechanic, shitty cook, single father - became the power behind the throne in one of the biggest crime syndicates in the Midwest.

Computer Safety Verse by followthattardis (Explicit, 232k words)

On the day of his 29th birthday, Dean receives an email from his old nemesis: Michael Milton, the guy who got him kicked out of college and stole his girlfriend. The email contains encoded images with top secret CIA/NSA intelligence – and now their only copy is in Dean’s brain. Both agencies send their best operatives – Castiel Novak and Victor Henriksen respectively – to handle their accidental asset and protect the invaluable data in his head. To justify their sudden appearance in Dean’s life, they adopt covers: Victor as Dean’s new co-worker and neighbor, Cas as his new boyfriend. Needless to say, Dean’s brother and his girlfriend are thrilled to see him in a relationship they believe to be real. Clearly, there’s no way this could go wrong.

Four Letter Word For Intercourse by bendingsignpost (Explicit, 228k words)

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties. What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right? (It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

Light me up by tricia_16 (Explicit, 218k words)

Five years after participating in a life-changing threesome with his then-girlfriend and her friend Cas, Dean's single, comfortably bisexual, and has everything he's ever wanted except for that special someone to share his life with. When tragedy strikes, he and Cas are reunited in an unexpected way, and a split-second decision entangles their lives in ways neither of them could have predicted…

Not Part of the Plan by Annie D (scaramouche) (Explicit, 337k words)

Castiel's spent most of his adult life keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. This is a deliberate choice on his part, because as a cousin of the King, he'd rather stay unimportant and forgotten. This changes abruptly when King Michael decides that he has a better use for Castiel: he is to be wed to a noble member of the neighboring Republic, as part of an agreement between their two nations. Castiel knows he has to obey, but that doesn't mean he won't rebel in what small ways he can. Unexpectedly, his actions end up having far-reaching consequences.

one million fires burning by dothraki_shieldmaiden (Explicit, 248k words)

Dean Winchester teaches three classes a day, tutors after school, and chairs the English Department for Lawrence High School. He does enough. Unfortunately, his boss doesn't feel the same and informs him that he has a new job: co-coaching the school's trivia team. His co-coach? None other than the school's golden boy, Castiel Milton. Who Dean can't stand, for various reasons, all of which are valid, thank you very much. And the fact that Dean can't stop talking about the stick up Cas's, sorry, Milton's ass? Completely irrelevant.

Redux by emmbrancsxx0 (Explicit, 386k words)

Dean Winchester is dead. For decades, he, along with Castiel and Sam, has led a peaceful afterlife in heaven. He has everything he’s ever wanted: a home, his family and friends surrounding him, and a relationship with Cas—and he’s bored as hell. Until, one day, Chuck escapes heaven’s lock up and begins capturing souls to regain power. To stop him, Jack sends Dean, Cas, and Sam back to Earth. After so long away from hunting, will they be able to once again find their place in the family business?

Talk Some Sense To Me (Kenopsia) by ImYourHoneyBee (Explicit, 244k words)

Scrambling to his knees Castiel hugs back, burying his face in Dean’s neck, breath coming in fast little pants against his skin. Dean closes his eyes and just breathes him in, barely able to believe that this is real. At any other time in his life, closing his eyes against a threat like Death would be an inexcusable lapse in his hunter’s judgement. Right now, he doesn’t give a single fuck. Death can reap him for all he cares, he’ll die knowing Cas is going to be ok. Alive. “I will see you soon, Dean,” Death tells him, that deliberate voice of his soft enough not to intrude on the intimacy of the moment, “Raincheck on that grilled cheese.” “Thank you,” Dean croaks, propping his chin up on Cas’s shoulder, unmindful of the tears trickling down his cheeks, “Thank you.”

The Closest Thing We Have To Magic by EllenOfOz, TrenchcoatBaby (Explicit, 221k words)

Dean Winchester is a graduate student at Stanford University’s School of the Occult. A naturally-talented mage but a lazy professor and student, he figures he’ll coast through his final year the way he always has: with charisma, charm, and a natural aptitude for magic. All that changes when his thesis advisor, Dr. Castiel Novak, turns out to be the strictest and most challenging educator on-campus. Unfortunately for Dean, the uptight professor is nearly his age and infuriatingly gorgeous. But Castiel is keeping a secret, a powerful talent that’s more a curse than a blessing when he’s targeted by seditious parts of magical society. Can Dean and Cas put aside their animosity—and undeniable chemistry—long enough to instill real change in the magical community? Or will sinister plots and hidden agendas keep them apart?

To Build a Home by intothesilentland (Mature, 383k words)

Twenty-three years of head-over-heels, devastating devotion and love, love, love for the man with bright eyes and dark hair. Fourteen years of friends, best friends, of always together. One moment of rejection. Nine years of apart. Nine years of heartbreak, nine years of continents away, of not speaking, of no acknowledgement, no interaction, no closure, no peace. No happiness. Nine years of Dean’s life entering motions, going through them, constant, cold and mechanic, like clockwork. Nine years of alone. God. Nine years. A lot has changed. And yet Dean still loves Cas just the same. Even if his heart hurts all kinds of different.

Under The Midnight Sun by NorthernSparrow (Explicit, 232k words)

Dean Winchester’s been camp manager of a science research station on the Alaskan tundra for thirteen years. Dean likes his job; fixing the camp trucks, troubleshooting the generators, keeping clueless undergrads and NSF bigwigs from walking into grizzly bears or getting lost in snowstorms — it’s all in a day’s work. It keeps him pretty busy, and this year his brother Sam's visiting too, so he's even busier. So it’s really not any of Dean’s business when some weirdo antisocial ornithologist sets up a tent a few miles away, a dark-haired blue-eyed guy who’s doing a “very long-term" study on birds or wings or something, and who never, ever takes off his big lumpy backpack. But then the new guy starts dropping by camp for coffee and… well, he’s not officially part of camp; he's not Dean’s responsibility; he’s really not Dean’s problem at all, but when a strange blizzard comes sweeping in, Dean gets worried and goes to check. Thing is, Dean's spent years in the sweeping vistas of the Arctic. He knows all about the midnight sun and the northern lights, the ice caves and avalanches, the rough-and-ready Haul Road truckers and the even rougher-and-readier wild animals. But even so, what he finds is much more than he bargained for.

With Interest by everandanon (Explicit, 296k words)

Eighteen, bored, and not quite able to turn down the money, Cas agrees to an ill-advised bet, and Dean's heart isn't the only one that gets broken. Eleven years later, grieving his twin brother and struggling to take care of his niece, Cas finally returns home — only to meet Dean again and discover that the boy he left behind has grown up a lot. And now, Dean seems to have every intention of getting him back — with interest.

You can also check our >100k tag for all the longer fics we rec.

#asks #group rec #>100k

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astheforcewillsit · 3 months ago

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Clones get so lost in the argument of whether or not the Jedi partook in their treatment and I wanted to talk about it, because in an interesting way it mirrors how canon treats the clones.

They talk about them and their benefit to the galaxy, but they don't talk about them.

And whether or not you believe the Jedi had any responsibility in what happened and continued to happen to the clones, arguments to defend the Jedi use the clones as canon fodder just for the purpose of proving the Jedi did nothing wrong.

Even arguments to show how bad of a General Anakin is (which are thinly veiled to show that the Jedi didn't harm the clones), the focus is never the clones and the dehumanization they go through for that purpose.

The purpose of their pain is to either benefit the argument that the Jedi are good to them (ie: the senate is actually the one who treats them badly, not the Jedi), or to benefit the argument that Anakin is a bad leader compared to the rest of the Jedi.

This is consistent in every argument I've seen.

In a conversation about a group of men being dehumanized, the spot light is never on them or their needs. It's on the Jedi and why this is unfair to them. It's about the Jedi, who will always have it significantly better than the clone troopers.

And that's always so disturbing to me in these arguments.

Like regardless of what you believe about the Jedi's role in what happened to the clones, they (the Jedi) can go home at the end of the day, go out with their friends whenever, take a break from the war, leave the Order, have bodily autonomy and medical consent, question the teachings of the Order. Their children get to be loved and cared for by their superiors. They are not brainwashed or forced to fight on the field against their will.

The Jedi have so much freedom compared to the clones, and all arguments defending the Jedi don't pay attention to this aspect nearly as much as it should.

None of the arguments defending the Jedi discuss this aspect in detail, or even mention how uncomfortable this is. It's as if this fact is lost in the argument completely.

They are not and will never exist on the same level or in the same sphere of oppression. And the Jedi are absolutely mistreated by the senate, and I think to some extent oppressed and used. I think we see this the best through Mace, who's constantly at a position where he's realizing that his Order is losing power and the Senate is backing him into a corner where he is unable to do anything.

(also Mace & Plo are the best Jedi to the clones, i'll stand by that)

But not it will never be comparable to what the clones experience.

The clones do not have the same freedom the Jedi have, and I think this should be discussed more often in these arguments.

If a clone tried to tell a Jedi they did not want to fight or do their job, the chances of them being left alone would be very low.

Ahsoka left the Order because she was betrayed by them. The Republic betrays Rex everyday, and if he left he'd be arrested.

I wish in the arguments about how great the Jedi were to the clones, we took a moment to focus on just why we're having the arguments in the first place.

And I think in pointing out the inequalities and the sheer power imbalance between the clones and the Jedi, we can start to understand that the Jedi have at least some fault in what's going on, even if it's a little bit.

And maybe that's why the clones aren't focused on in depth during these arguments. Because why to the Jedi get to live the way they do while the clones cannot even make their own medical decisions?

Anyway this is never me saying the Jedi are an evil organization that is 100% behind the clones enslavement. Truth is imo they're not even the main cause. They were put in a shitty situation where it was very difficult to say no, and nearly impossible. And they put some policy in place so that the clones were treated better, and are arguably the best people to have them aside from the clones themselves. t's what they do with the decision to accept the clones that i have thoughts on.

This also isn't a post to argue on what or what the Jedi didn't do, it's just more to point out something I've noticed. So please don't make it that.

#clone trooopers #captain rex #commander cody #commander wolffe #commander bly #the bad batch #clone troopers deserve better #tcw #star wars tcw #the prequel trilogy #commander fox #omega tbb #crosshair tbb #wrecker tbb #hunter tbb #tech tbb #tech lives

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vodika-vibes · 4 months ago

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Until The Stars Go Cold

Summary: You thought that you and Kixx had something special with how he kissed you, how he held you, how he looked at you. But one day, he and all of his brothers vanished, and you were left behind with nothing more than one of his shirts to remember him by.

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 1873

Warnings: Angst, but there's a happy ending

A/N: So, I was in a Kix mood, and so this was born. The AU here is that the clones figured out that they were created as weapons against the Jedi and fled the Republic, down to the youngest Tubie, without telling anyone.

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You pull your knees up to your chest and lay your cheek on your knees as you stare, unfocused, out the window at the lights of Coruscant.

It has been one year and three months since the clones vanished.

A year and three months since the last time that you saw Kix.

Since the last time you felt his warm hands on your face, saw his broad smile, and heard his comforting voice.

You curl the sleeves of the shirt you’re wearing into your fists and bury your face in the collar. Your shirt, Kix’s shirt, no longer smells like him. Hasn’t smelled like him in months. But if you close your eyes and pretend, you can almost smell his body wash on the material of the shirt.

You thought, with time, the hurt of being left behind would fade.

But it hasn’t.

Every day is harder than the one before. And, at this point, you don’t leave your house anymore. You have your groceries delivered, and you work from home. Only your oldest friends still visit, though you insist on cooking for them rather than going out.

Hell, even your parents don’t visit anymore.

Your mother claims that you depress her, and she can’t deal with it.

That’s fair, you suppose. You depress yourself at times.

A lot of the time.

You wish you knew where he was, where he went. You wish you knew if he was safe. If he was happy.

You wish a lot of things, these days.

A heavy sigh falls from you and you slowly uncurl from the couch when your alarm goes off. It’s gotten to the point where you have to remind yourself to eat, and to go to bed.

You’re pathetic.

No wonder no one wants to spend time with you.

You drag your feet as you head into the kitchen and absently grab a box of noodles. If you make enough, you’ll have enough leftovers for several nights worth of dinner.

Sure, eating the same meal several nights in a row can’t be the best for you, but so long as you’re eating something, you don’t think anyone will give you too hard of a time.

You grab a pot from the dishwasher, fill it with water, and set it on the burner to wait for the water to boil.

While you wait, you lean against the counter and pluck a picture off the fridge.

It’s a photo of you and Kix.

He was your plus one to your sister’s wedding. Your brother-in-law bought him a nice outfit to wear to the wedding, one that matched your bridesmaid dress.

And, while the pair of you were dancing, your mother snapped a quick picture of the pair of you. In the photo, Kix is staring at you with a bright grin on his handsome face, and you’re laughing at something he said.

The both of you look happy.

In your darkest moments, late at night when you’re tossing and turning in bed, you can’t help but wonder if Kix was just pretending. If you were just a placeholder for someone better.

Something better.

And the more time that passes, the harder it is to ignore those thoughts.

You place the picture back on the fridge, next to the other pictures that decorate it, and focus your attention back on the pot of water.

It’s not boiling yet, but you reach out and turn off the burner anyway.

You don’t feel like eating anymore.

You don’t feel like doing anything.

You just want to sleep.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

“Not a bad place to set up shop,” Kix glances at his older brother, who isn’t looking at him, but rather peering out the window to look out across the decently sized city that is swiftly growing outside the clinic that they, and all of their other medic brothers, run.

“It’s not half bad,” Kix agrees, his fingers gliding over the pale blue ribbon wrapped around his wrist for a moment before he focuses his attention back on the files he’s meant to be organizing.

“Meaning it’s not half good, either?” his brother asks with a wry twist of his lips, “Come on, even you have to admit that this is a better setup than we ever would have gotten with the GAR or the Jedi.”

Kix rolls his eyes, “The Jedi did their best with what they were given.”

“You can’t tell me that you miss Coruscant.”

Kix leans back in his chair and finally looks at his brother, “No. I don’t miss Coruscant.” His gaze slides away from his brother and settles on the simple picture frame sitting on his desk.

It was taken at a park, his beautiful cyare’s head tucked under his chin, and his arm secure around her shoulders, while he snapped a selfie of them. They’re both drenched in the picture, a sudden storm surprising them both, but she made the best of it and danced with him in the rain while laughing.

Kix reaches out and picks the picture up, a small smile crossing his face as his thumb brushes her face, “No. I don’t miss Coruscant at all.” He repeats, a pang of loneliness making his grip tighten around the picture.

“You know,” His brother leans over his shoulder and plucks the frame from his hand, “You can call her.”

The laugh that falls from Kix is surprisingly bitter, “Yeah? And say what? Hey babe, sorry for up and vanishing on you and not telling you where I was going, but I’m here now.” He snatches the picture from his hand and sets it back on his desk, “No. She probably hates me now. And I don’t blame her for it in the slightest.”

“So…what? You’re going to just sit here and pine over her?”

Kix scowls at him, “Go and get yourself a girlfriend, and then we can talk about pining. Jerk.”

“Hm…what’s her name?”

“...what?”

“Her name? What’s her name?”

“I’m not answering that.”

His brother eyes him for a moment, and then he smirks, “I bet Jesse knows. I’m going to go ask him.” He pulls away from Kix and heads towards the door, “I’m going. Here I go—”

“Di’kut!” Kix flings a datapad at him, “Why do you want to know her name anyway?”

“Uh, so I can call her and get her to tell you to stop being pathetic.”

“Well, now I’m definitely not telling you.” Kix counters dryly, “Don’t you have paperwork to do?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Probably. I’ll be back in a bit.”

And then he’s gone, and Kix is left alone with a pile of datapads that still need to be sorted and filed. A loud string of curses falls from him as he realizes that he’s been left alone with all of this work.

Several hours later, he gets word that Rex and several other Captains have left New Mandalore (working name in progress), though Kix doesn’t think much about it.

Rex has a good head on his shoulders, and if he’s leaving their new home it’s probably for a good reason.

Besides, it’s the end of the workday and he just wants to go home and talk to his picture of his cyare and tell her about his day, and about New Mandalore.

Force, he wishes she was here. He wishes he could hear her voice, and feel her gentle fingers against his skin.

He’d sell his arm for the ability to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she’s giggling and breathless.

He just…he misses her.

But he made his choice, and there’s no walking that back.

As he flops back on his bed, his gaze locked on her blinding smile, Kix feels his heartbreak.

He’s probably lost her forever…and the only person he can blame is himself.

Slowly Kix lowers the picture so that it’s pressed against his forehead, regret burning in his chest, “I’m so sorry, mesh’la.” He whispers to the empty room.

Three weeks later, Rex’s ship returns.

Kix isn’t there to greet them, he’s too busy. It’s easy to forget his heartbreak when he’s working, after all.

However that all changes when there’s a knock on his office door, and then Rex opens the door. He has a small smirk on his face, and Kix can’t help but lean back and eye him suspiciously.

“What did you do?”

“Me? Nothing. I’m innocent.” Rex replies with a growing grin, “Although, you do have a visitor.”

“A visitor? Did someone get hurt on your mission?”

“Not quite.” Rex moves to the side and motions to someone in the hallway.

And then Kix stops, his breath catching in his throat.

His cyare is standing in the doorway. Her hair is shorter, barely brushing her chin, and she’s nervously rubbing the back of her neck and she won’t look at him properly.

Ironically, the first two coherent thoughts that run through Kix’s mind are “she’s stunning” and “what is she doing here?”

“Cyare—” Her gaze lifts from the carpeted floor, and it’s like a punch to the gut. Her face is thinner than it should be, and she has dark circles under her eyes.

She looks about as tired as he feels.

She smiles at him, but it’s a weak, uncertain, smile, “Kix,”

He stands and crosses his office in two large steps. Kix presses a hand to Rex’s shoulder and shoves him out of his office, “Get out.” And then he tugs his cyare further into the room, his hands immediately moving to cup her face after he smacks the button that will lock the door behind them.

“Cyare,” His thumbs lightly caress her cheeks under her eyes, “You’re here. You’re actually here.” His sounds almost breathless, and he really should get ahold of himself, but he had convinced himself that he was never going to be able to touch her again, so he’s giving himself a pass.

“Rex insisted,” She murmurs as she leans into his touch, “Kix, I missed you.”

He leans in and presses his forehead against hers, “I missed you too. I’m…so, so sorry for leaving without saying anything. I should have warned you.”

She shakes her head, her eyes closed, “Rex explained. The safety of you and your brothers is so much more important than my hurt feelings.”

“What did Rex say?”

“That there was something inside you all that would force you to turn against the Republic,” She opens her eyes, “He wouldn’t go into detail, but he did make sure that I knew that you were all safe to be around.”

Well, thank the maker for small mercies, Kix thinks as he leans, heavily, against her.

“I am. We are.”

Her hands, so much smaller and so much softer than his own, come up and brush against his cheeks, “I would like to stay with you…if you’ll have me?”

Kix doesn’t dignify her question with an answer right away. He doesn’t have to, as his lips crash against hers. “Of course, you can stay,” He mumbles in between frantic presses of his lips against hers, “Please stay.”

She leans heavily against him, “Always. For as long as you want me.”

“Forever. Until the stars go cold.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly @n0vqni @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97

@falconfeather23435 @etod @bb8-99 @kiss-anon @continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay @liz-stat @cc--2224

#star wars #tcw #clone medic kix x reader #kix x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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arcane-vagabond · 1 year ago

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The Beginning

Stranger Like Me: The Beginning

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)

Trigger Warnings: Talk of loneliness, Inaccurate scientific descriptions and terminology, Flirty Jake, Allusions to loss of parents, Talk of reintigrating someone into society...I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,263

A/N: Here it is! I hope y'all don't mind me making you wait too long! This blog is 18+ ONLY! As always, reblogs and comments are welcomed and encouraged!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where all of my stories and drabbles are posted!

Series Masterlist || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3

You had a running theory that there were two types of people in this world: plant people and animal people. You? You were most definitely an animal person. Growing up, you visited the zoo frequently, the employees practically knowing you by name. You did your best to memorize as many facts as you could about the different animals in each exhibit, knowing from an early age that you wanted to work with animals for the rest of your life.

You’d spend hours at the primate exhibits, watching the way the different apes and monkeys interact with each other, and you wished you could fast forward to the moment where you got to study it day in and day out.

So, you worked hard, graduating high school with honors before moving on to study zoology in undergrad, and then skipping straight to your doctorate program after that. It had been a long, grueling road that left little time for much else, but it was your passion, and once you had been greeted with the title of “doctor,” you knew it had all been worth it.

That didn’t stop your bouts of loneliness though. While your friends all went out to party, you were usually found with your nose buried in a book. And it wasn’t like you wanted to go out partying, but it still hurt when your friends stopped asking.

And then there was Jake Seresin, your handsome best friend of several years who knew he looked good and never failed to own it. The two of you had met in the early days of undergrad, having been partnered up in a biology lab, and you had hit it off immediately. Jake wasn’t interested in primates, his focus turned towards botany of all things, but he loved to tease you about your love of great apes.

“A cute girl like you studying monkeys?” He had chuckled with a shake of his head, mossy green eyes glimmering with mischief. “You must have had a wild fascination with Boots the monkey, huh?”

“First of all, peabrain,” you scowled at him, fighting back the smile that threatened to take over your face as his jaw dropped, “I study apes, not monkeys. Second of all, my fascination with Boots is none of your business.”

“Whatever you say, Boots.”

And the nickname had stuck. It followed you through undergrad and all the way through to your now budding career as one of the leading researchers in gorilla social structures. Which is also how you found yourself invited to the North Island Research Camp in the Republic of the Congo.

The camp wasn’t some grand research center, but it was well respected amongst the scientific community for gathering the most up-to-date research and hands-on experiences between researchers and local fauna. The camp was run by Dr. Pete Mitchell and Dr. Tom Kazansky, both legends within the field and rarely opening up their camp to other researchers. You had been thrilled to receive the invitation, and even more thrilled when you found out that Jake had also received an invitation to the camp to continue his research on tropical plants.

The two of you had made plans to fly out of San Diego at the same time, even choosing to stay at his place the night before your flight.

“The early bird gets the worm, Boots!” He chirped, loading up the trunk of the Uber with your luggage. How he was so cheerful at three in the morning was beyond you.

The flight to your destination was uneventful, choosing to catch up on some of your reading as well as sleep for the majority of the flight. The two of you were greeted by a bespectacled man once you departed the plane, his demeanor relaxed but his face shy as he helped you with your bags.

“I’m Bob,” he said, loading the back of his jeep with your belongings. “I’m helping out Pete and Tom with their research. The other researcher is already at the camp. He got here about a month ago.”

“Who is it?” You asked him, hopping into the front seat of the car as Jake clambered into the back.

“Javy Machado,” Bob answered, already making his way through the city and towards the jungle. “He’s doing research into termite colonies.”

“Javy’s gonna be there?” Jake asked, leaning forward with a grin. You rolled your eyes at him. Javy and Jake almost went as far back as you two did, having first met in a chemistry course their junior year of college. While you and Jake had gone to the same university for your doctorate programs, Javy had ventured elsewhere, making a name for himself within the world of entomology. The two together was almost insufferable.

“You two better behave,” you groused, settling into your seat with a glare in his direction.

“Boots,” he gasped, placing a hand over his heart in faux hurt, “I am absolutely shocked that you think we would be anything other than complete professionals.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” you snapped, turning to face Bob who glanced at you two wearily. “Those two are going to be a nightmare, I’m just warning you now.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he chuckled.

The three of you settled into a comfortable conversation as Bob continued to drive towards the camp, the jungle becoming denser the longer he went. Soon, the sun was hidden behind the canopy, and you got the sense that you were truly in the wild.

“Are you sure about this, Mav,” Ice hummed, hands clasped firmly in front of him as he eyed his fellow researcher. Mav spared him a smile, running a hand through his hair as he sat on the bench opposite his companion.

“He’s been on his own for decades, Ice,” Mav grimaced, glancing into the trees. “He deserves to know companionship beyond just us.”

“He has Bob and Javy.”

“He deserves more than just four other people in his life,” he amended, rolling his eyes. “We’re lucky we found him when we did, otherwise I’m not sure he would have survived on his own. Besides, Nick and Carole wouldn’t have wanted this for him. They would have wanted him to see the world, to meet other people.”

Ice hummed at that. Of course, Maverick had a point. They couldn’t keep the boy isolated for forever. He was already butting heads more and more with the troop leader and spending more nights in the observation tower as a result. It also wasn’t like Ice wanted to keep him isolated for selfish reasons. No, quite the opposite in fact. The kid had spent most of his life right there in the jungle, never having contact with another human being until the two men had opened up the research camp once more ten years before.

And that’s what had Ice so apprehensive. The boy had little to no experience with humans, and what he did have was from the time spent with the two older men who weren’t exactly the greatest of company at the best of times. How would he react to a camp full of people his own age? Would it be too much for him?

“Bradley is smart, Ice,” Mav continued, knocking his knuckles against the table. “He’s already been asking questions about the people in the movies and photos he sees. He wants to know about the outside world. Let’s let him have that chance.”

Ice didn’t answer. Instead, he sighed, leaning back in his chair. This would be good for Bradley. It had to be.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #top gun rooster #rooster top gun

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yukipri · 5 months ago

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So, I binged The Acolyte last night.

I had a mental block and couldn't get myself to start while it was coming out, and I also haven't touched any High Republic era media before which made me hesitant. But the spoilers/gifs/fanart etc I saw convinced me I should give it a try.

I'm not a huge fan of binging, I like sitting and thinking with each episode, so I expected to just watch an episode or two, give it a day or so, then continue if I liked it.

But, to my great surprise, once I started, I couldn't really stop (aaand stayed up till 7 AM, oops).

I think it had several things going for it:

-The acting was genuinely phenomenal. I feel like I would have felt completely differently about the show if different actors had been involved, and i mean that more strongly than I usually do. Their delivery in certain moments really sold me.

-It's not your usual Star Wars genre. I'd consider it mystery/suspense with a touch of horror, and it really does come together. Some of the characters are experience a more stereotypical Star Wars action/adventure story, but are jerked out of their genre at certain moments. It's pretty neat, and makes the twists fun and interesting (even if you were completely spoiled beforehand, like me lol)

-The costumes were gorgeous and unique.

-Some truly gorgeous cinematography, shots that have beautiful composition and lighting.

-It was rich in lore and references, some from Legends that I caught, many from the High Republic that I didn't catch but appreciated nonetheless. It felt deeply connected to the SW Universe.

-While cynical, the writing says things that I've thought about but never really thought Star Wars would have the guts to say. The writing is also Tight, meaning that little moments of character interactions bring up things that will be necessary/helpful to the plot later, and I appreciated that. There felt like very little waste.

-There are genuinely no "good" or "bad" guys. Every character makes mistakes or has horrible qualities, yet also positive ones. We see and understand motives, even if we don't agree with them, and see the fallout of those actions. This made almost everyone compelling. The narrative and writing gives the audience space to think.

Things that I wasn't as much a fan of:

-I felt like most of the sets felt kind of generic and Earth-like, especially in comparison to the rich costumes and alien characters.

-There are some fantastic fight scenes and emotional scenes, where the acting and cinematography was fantastic, but I wish the music had been a bit more memorable. I can't really recall any of it, and I feel like there were scenes that could have been truly iconic had the music resounded more with me.

Now, some more specific thoughts, SPOILERS below:

On Sol:

Sol is a character who, I believe in most cases, I would have absolutely despised. But holy shit, Lee Jung-jae. I am not exaggerating when I say that his performance is perhaps one of the best, if not THE best performances I've ever seen in live action Star Wars. He played this character so tenderly, so genuinely.

Despite being misguided, having made terrible decisions, and making mistakes that even he acknowledges, Sol himself always truly thought he was doing what was right, and loved Osha with his whole being even at the end, and it Shows. The way he looks at Osha was so sincere.

This is why I can't get myself to hate Sol as a character. It makes me feel so conflicted, like how can a guy with so much love and genuine desire to help and do good go so wrong? And that, I think, is one of the major points of the show, and Lee Jung-jae absolutely sells it. What a phenomenal actor. You could genuinely watch this show for him alone.

On Osha/Mae:

When the first info/promos for Acolyte came out and Amandla Stenberg was announced as the main character, I admit I was a bit confused. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't that I thought she couldn't act, but it's just that her face is so kind. She looks so warm (and gosh, she's so beautiful), but it made me go hmm, she looks like a Good Guy Protag, a Hero, so I was a bit confused as to how she was going to lead "the Acolyte," which from the title, I assumed she'd be Dark Side. Even with the early promo scenes of Mae fighting Indara, I wasn't really sold on her being "Dark."

And it turns out, that was exactly the point of the casting.

Amandla was perfect, and was brilliant at portraying two characters who not only have different and distinct personalities, but also both shift and change throughout the show. Mae never came off as "Dark" to me, because she isn't. Osha's not necessarily Light OR Dark, but she's independent. They are balanced, yet cycling, reminiscent of that little palm-to-palm circling ritual that the girls do. Amandla's portrayal of them was poetry, and made me so very invested in them.

I think if there's one thing I really wish the show had included more of, it's both Osha and Mae's pasts between their tragic separation and their reunion in the present. What was Osha's Padawan-ship actually like? I feel like the exact reason for the timing of her leaving the Order was ambiguous, and I wanted to know more. And was Mae with "the Master" the entire time?

I truly wish Osha could have heard the full story from Sol, because of his many crimes, ironically, killing her mother really was a genuine accident. There are things I wish he could have apologized to her for, or that she could have understood about him, such as how that night at the coven was largely driven by how Sol felt connected to her. This is one part where, while I get how the writers went this way, I do wish I could have felt more closure to their relationship.

I found it so tragic that Qimir erased Mae's memories and they had to be separated so soon after finally understanding each other. I really hope that if there's a season 2, they can be reunited.

On Qimir:

Preface by saying I was spoiled regarding his identity long before I started, by all those thirsty posts/tweets. And man, I GET IT.

But thirst magnet aside, I found him a genuinely fascinating character. For one thing, he's kind of an ironic character to *be* a Darksider. He seems so chill and laid-back, is honorable (or at least keeps his word), and despite his words about using emotions to harness energy, we don't really see him passionately mad/anything really. In contrast, the Jedi we see around him are furious, scared, sad. It's interesting that he almost seems more calm, but not necessarily because he's trying: he just doesn't care.

Manny Jacinto's portrayal of the character made him so damn Likable. Which, is pretty hard to reconcile with the fact that I genuinely liked Jecki and Yord, but a lot of his lines make me just go, y'know he's got a point. Like the whole, "She was a child," "You brought her here." Like yeah. Honestly, fair. His little quips, the delivery, the I'm-just-a-chill-dude attitude, actually keeps his word, and on the flip side, undeniable ruthless skill and viciousness that took down a whole team of Jedi single-handedly. It's a very BRRRRRR combo.

In general, I don't really get too attached to "Dark Side" characters, and don't really have a favorite Sith. Or at least, I didn't, but I think Qimir (or whatever his actually name is) might claim that spot now. Truly peak character, I truly hope we get to see more with him.

And this is kind of an aside, but can I just say, it felt unreal to have entire fight sequences focussing on just two Asian actors, with the other protagonist we see a black girl, for huge chunks of the show? No white people except comparatively brief side characters? In a Star Wars show?!?? All of them unique and well fleshed out and phenomenally written and acted?? None of it felt like "forced diversity," it's all so natural, that when I step back and thought about it in these terms it just...again, feels unreal. I'm so grateful for these characters, and hope we get more like them.

On Jecki and Yord:

Honestly given what I saw about Yord before hand, I was expecting him to be far more annoying than he was. Sure, he was a little stiff, but he felt like a young Jedi Knight who was trying to prove himself and do his best, and I think he very clearly did care for Osha.

Jecki, gosh I loved her. She felt very similar to Ahsoka, if a bit more by the book. She was very wise for her youth. I loved the budding friendship between her and Osha, how they helped each other and weren't jealous.

The thing about both of these characters, which I think the writers did so well, is that they felt like protagonists. In another story, they would have been the main characters, the heroes. Both of them were so young, so early in their training/careers. They could have become Obi-Wans, Ahsokas. Jecki especially was bursting with so much potential.

But alas, this was not that story. It makes it that much shocking when their lives are cut so abruptly short. We were given time to get to know these characters, to care for them, and then without much fanfare, boom. Gone.

On one hand, I sorta Hate That. On the other, I deeply respect the writers for going there, because I think it did have an Impact on the story and show.

On the Witches/Mother Aniseya:

Admittedly I was a little ehhhhh on some of the world-building regarding the witches, just the use of the words "witch" and "coven" and some of the chanting with gasping cackling women etc felt a bit caricature. I do get that they wanted us to have a vibe for this group and to get one with limited screentime, and sometimes stereotypes are the way to do that. I didn't love it, but also didn't mind it too much.

I actually really loved Mother Aniseya. For one thing, the actress is Gorgeous, her costume stunning, and she really sold the whole otherworldly ethereal immortal goddess vibe well, in a way that still felt Star Wars. For the other, I liked how she was the soft, empathetic one, it kinda contrasted with expectation of her position.

I also loved Mother Koril, and how again, she was designed as a character foil to Mother Aniseya. I love how we didn't see too much of them, but could still see that they were partners who loved and respected each other (I hesitate to say "wives," because I feel like their society may not exactly have the same concept of marriage, but partners was undeniable). I think it was a neat Oh moment when they stated that Mother Koril is the one who carried the twins. Love them.

I know I'll have more thoughts, but yeah, to sum it up, I enjoyed Acolyte a ton more than I thought i would, and am so glad I gave it a chance.

Other things:

-Mentioned earlier that I love "little moments of character interactions bring up things that will be necessary/helpful to the plot later." Some actual examples of this: When we see Sol noticing Osha's tattoo and Osha saying he must hate it, which in the moment, shows the kind of guardian-student relationship they have, and how little seems to have changed for them in the time they've been a part. Later, it's shown to clearly identify Osha after Mae steals her clothes. Another is the rolly polly moth things, which at first seem just like a way to show This Forest Dangerous, but then are a plot point to temporarily escape from Qimir, and later on, to show Vernestra's connection to the Force (and also her light whip). Stuff like that, I really like.

-I so appreciated Qimir's Cortosis helmet. For one thing, it's neat that it's not just cool-looking or a disguise, but actually is Force-blocking. I think an official SW account factoid said that this is also how beskar works, though beskar is stronger. The two effects this has: when the user is wearing it, they're forced to confront what's inside of them. The other, is that it hides the wearer's identity from Force users who would otherwise recognize them. The latter is my personal headcanon for beskar helmets, so it's very gratifying to see it in canon! The former has some interesting implications for Force-users who wear beskar.

-The cynical view of the Jedi Order as an Institution, and all the politics, corruption, and obscuring of dirt that that entails. Admittedly this may be because of my own increasingly cynical perspective on the Order, but it felt honest and I agreed with most of it. The fact that individuals are trying their best to do "good" does not negate the fact that they are pretty much acting as Space Cops. This line by Senator Rayencourt felt especially raw:

"I think the Jedi are a massive system of unchecked power, posing as a religion, a delusional cult that claims to claim the uncontrollable. [] Your emotions."

Framed as a religion having unchecked power—that feels uncomfortably realistic! And also zeroing in on how for all their power, the Jedi are still people, and just as fallible (and therefore, must necessarily be held just as accountable).

Also:

I can see how this portrayal of the Jedi may make some folks uncomfortable, especially if you love the Jedi, but I long hold that the Jedi as an organization are deeply flawed. It's part of why I personally like the "fall of the Republic" era; both the Galactic Republic and Jedi Order have deep, fatal flaws, and this is an era where that all comes to a head—one where they must fall, or fix themselves.

So in conclusion, my favorite parts: the characters, and the moral grayness of almost everyone. Many stories may claim there's no good/evil dichotomy, but few ever truly show it, but this one did.

I'm not sure yet if I want to "fandom" over this or if I'm pretty satisfied with having just watched it, but it was definitely worth the watch and I'm glad I gave it a try!

I also kept a lil document of live reaction notes as I was watching, which I'll copy below:

Episode 1

UEDA?? The planet is just, UEDA?? A pretty common Japanese surname?? That's like. Naming a planet Johnson or somethin...

Loving the costumes 'n set

Oh wait I recognize this scene, it's the one they played as a preview at the AMC Star Wars marathon

Idk how to feel about the Space Generic T-Shirt

Ooh Neimoidians (thank you for no horrendously exaggerated Evil Japanese Accent TM), and interesting Jedi ship shape

Oh interesting interesting they intentionally paralleling TPM eh

Hrmn not a positive first impression of Master Vernestra, her lines are so mechanical

Very cool pilot chair droids and tentacle alien

Osha says practice vehicle safety and wear seatbelts and protect your head!

Oh Osha has Trauma I see. Girl ain't getting good sleep

Oh wow Sol Loves Osha, oh no is this going to lead to Padawan Jealousy Trauma between Osha and Jecki. How much are we heavily paralleling TPM here

Kill the dream eh?

Episode 2

Oh there are multiple Jedi temples, that's nice

Jedi Temple using same security system as Jabba is...uh

Mae tips, good for her

Master Torbin just sittin' there, lookin like some random youtuber. why tabi socks

Man I dig Mae's patchwork cloak with massive princess hood.

It's pronounced KAI-meer??? My Chinese ass thought it was Chee-mir

Barash Vow

Ohhh so Mae doesn't know that Qimir...? (was spoiled)

Episode 3

ooh i like the fairy clione things

Ohhh village all women??

Mother Aniseya is stunning

Oh she and Koril blatantly lesbian, fantastic

Oh gosh the Jedi are NOT looking good here. They don't have the right to train children?? WTF

You must let the children take the test?? And if they pass the Jedi will take them away??? That does NOT sound very consensual!!

Oh gosh, selling "you are special" to a child, after separating her from her community...

Really feel like "how does taking a child away affect their community" should be factored into jedi stuff

Mae that is...sudden and violent wtf

Kinda not trusting Sol here

Episode 4

Wow Kelnacca looks...mentally stable

Ohhh Qimir's ship? Looks suspiciously Kylo Ren-ish

Qimir really suspicious eh

Oh wow not using the Force or anything, just using a sniffy guy

They're really doing a Fellowship of the Ring walk huh

Look I absolutely adore Mae's long gorgeous cloak but that is going to drag half the forest floor with her

Not liking those tree bulbs. looks spider eggy

Osha don't Touch the Thing, that's such a Pippin move

oh no, not spider eggs...rolly polly moth vampire thing

Really enjoying Osha and Jecki's friendship, I'm so glad it's not former Padawan jealousy

Oh, Mae, oh no....knowing spoilers...oh...

The red lightsaber igniting next to Osha's head...dang what fantastic composition

The lil hand twitch and head snap. I Get It.

I remember when "Darth Teeth" was trending

And wow that's a Cliffhanger

Episode 5

Oh no Osha knocked out that doesn't bode well

How many against one is that damn

The double spear through then hidden head lop...wow

holy shit booma-saber

Oooooh the cut treeeeees damn

all that death before even the opening title

Honestly GO JECKI, that's very impressive, her win against Mae AND double saber against Darth Teeth, Anakin level spinning and drama

Holy shit Jecki's death was brutal...

She was a child - You brought her here - FAIR

Why risk discovery - I did wear a mask LMAO

Damn did he just casually break Mae's leg

I don't make the rules - the Jedi do

The Jedi say I can't exist...wow

Holy shit Yord's death

Damn full on brawl

I've accepted my darkness, what have you done with yours

Damn really yeeted Qimir from the fight by sticking a light on his back

Pip tho ;_; killin droids feels like killin pets...

They've turned you against me - really Anakin quotin

Wow Sol, not even going to see Jecki????

And wtf how can Sol not tell that Mae's switched them??? Has fandom been grossly misunderstanding how the Jedi use the Force....how the fuck can any Jedi tell apart any clones eh...

While not exactly subtle, I appreciate how lil details in character interactions have had pay offs. Like the tree bugs and Osha's tattoo being a way to identify her

Episode 6

He really just makin a hot pot

his lair kinda looks like sequels Luke's island

Not sure how I feel about the elephant rock bird things

Honestly glad we get to see Sol upset and affected by everyone's deaths. Might explain part of why he can't tell apart the twins?

Oh he's really wearing hakama hakama

Wow Qimir really just getting in buck naked eh. Is this the scene that Manny froze his balls off for

His line about it being fine in a fight but vengeance a few hours later

Oh he brought a change of clothes

Damn the Jedi are taught "it fades"???

Aww Osha, u aren't tempted by the soup??

Oh wow we revisiting bodies, that feels...u usual for SW. Oh there's a Kel Dor... (why are there no flies buzzing yet. or are there no flies yet)

Mae wakes up so peacefully compared to Osha

Oooh sensory deprivation mask, all dark, nothing but breathing, evocative of Darth Vader even if breathing is not similar

Episode 7

Vergence....iiiiinteresting

Sol, stalking lil kids is creepy af

Oh my god you're just gonna break in???

See - You cannot deny the Jedi have a right to test potential Padawans - Why the fuck not???? You don't have the right to stalk, spy on, break into random people's homes, and talk directly to their children without permission from guardians??

Guh Sol....

Interrogation after isolation from guardians....

Oh, the Jedi Council is right for once??

Do not alter this little girl's destiny because you have formed an emotional attachment to her

Gosh I thought Indara was the most innocent in this buuuuut

Episode 8

I'm surprised they never added Darth Teeth's mask to the front credits

"See you in hell" Oh I know Han mentioned Hell like once but I thought they were avoiding mentioning it in newer media

Holy shit Rayencourt: I think the Jedi are a massive system of unchecked power, posing as a religion, a delusional cult that claims to claim the uncontrollable. - Kinda uncomfortably real!!

-We don't control the Force - no, your emotions - OOF

I didn't realize till this ep how the cool Brendok eclipse got that line, it's the comet ring. super neat

oof Mae climbing out of the scene of Trauma...

Oh that is some Wu Xia shit

"I will destroy you if i must" really??

Nice dagger saber

Okay Sol that is Cool

oh gosh, the plot-relevant inversion of clothes resulting in it reflecting how they swapped light/dark is SO cool

very yin yang fighting

Damn it keeps coming down to the unarmed opponent thing

Damn, Mae going the justice route

Damn, just Damn

Gosh the thing about Sol is that he is SO well acted, so sincere in his love and devotion, it's hard to hate him

I'm glad the helmets block the Force identity like that tho, fits headcanon

Glad Basil continues to shine

Oh no. Vernestra...I thought you were doing the right thing revealing the truth, but instead you're continuing the cycle of covering up crimes

Oh...use Mae to find Vernestra's former Padawan...that's a cycle alright

And ends with Yoda okay

#the acolyte #acolyte #YukiPri rambles #star wars #review #spoilers

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witchofanguish · 1 month ago

Text

A liberal reformist "democratic socialist" lawyer, professor, and imperialist agitator was teaching a class on Francis Fukuyama, known liberal thinker.

”Before the class begins, you must get on your knees and worship Fukuyama and accept that he was the most historically-progressive being the world has ever known, even greater than Karl Marx!”

At this moment, a brave, patriotic, socialist Red Army soldier who had served 1500 tours of duty and understood the necessity of war and fully supported all military decisions made by the Socialist World Republic stood up and held up a truncheon.

”What is this, pinhead?”

The arrogant professor smirked like a bourgeois pig and smugly replied “It's clearly nothing more than a stick, you stupid totalitarian. And sticks can be broken.”

”Wrong. You say that blunt force isn't the best way to run a society, but if that was true, then my Ministry for State Security friends wouldn't find it so satisfying to beat wannabe activists like you in the streets.”

The professor was visibly shaken, and dropped his wrecking leaflet and imperialist textbook. He stormed out of the room crying those liberal crocodile tears. The same tears liberals cry for the “Work Camp Inmates” (who today live in such luxury that most have access to running water) when they jealously try to claw justly earned political power from the deserving partymen and commissars. There is no doubt that at this point our professor, Murray Rand, wished he had pulled himself up by his bootstraps and become more than a revisionist imperial-agitator professor. He wished so much that he had a secret policeman to shoot him out of embarrassment, but he himself had petitioned against them!

The students applauded and all joined the Communist Party that day and accepted Marxism as the one true dialectical principle. An eagle named “World Communism” flew into the room and perched atop the flag and shed a tear on the chalk. The socialist unity charter was read several times, and the General Secretary himself showed up and enacted a large campaign of political repression across the country.

The professor lost his tenure and was fired the next day. He died of revisionist brainworms and was tossed into a mass grave for all eternity.

Workers of the World, Unite.

#helio.txt

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misguidedasgardian · 23 days ago

Text

GLADIATORS

HARWIN I.

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your life alongside your best friend Robin had been a dream come true, but is time you fulfill your part of the bargain to your husband’s family.

Pairing: Gladiator!Harwin x Matrician!Reader, Patrician!Robin Arryn x Matrician!Reader (platonic although they are married)

Warnings: Slavery!, cursing, people trafficking, fighting to the death, hunting of animals, mythological animals come true, talks about religious rites, pagan celebrations, talks about homosexual relationships/preferences, SMUT!, nudity, might miss some warnings.

MINORS DNI + 18

Wordcount: 7,3k

Notes: Alright… I finally reached the point where my kinkiness and my passion for history met! muahaha this reader is around mid-twenties, and hardwin is in his thirties.

“Come on Robin!”, one encouraged, “live a little”, the man palmed the young patrician on his back, and he waved him off

“I don’t know, it's a big investment”, he said, sipping on his cup of honeyed wine

“The Vulcanalia is going to be greater this year than any other”, observed Tyland, “and only a week away, we are all going to participate one way or another… if you want to catch the eye of anyone in the senate, that is the perfect opportunity to do so”, all of the men gathered there in the villa of Tyland Lannister had been in the Tywin Lannister games this day, they had invited only the most prominent men of King’s Landing after the games to talk matters of state, amongst other things.

“It’s the perfect opportunity for your introduction in this world my friend”, insisted Reydwyne, palming the man’s shoulder.

The young man sippied his wine, as he watched the show unfolding in front of him.

Robin looked around, there were all men in the reunion, they went without their wives and how he had wished he brought his, as it was becoming increasingly dull, the Lannister villa was filled with aged men.

Female slaves, -they had to be-. has been painted in white, and dressed with little clothes, they were made to move and dance provocatively in the middle of the atrium, where the pool was, a beautifully decorated impluvium with a platform in the middle.

Now he understood why the wives of the illustrious men weren’t here. Tyland had recently been divorced, but the female slaves were instructed to be more… caring… towards the guests.

He politely declined the invitation of a beautiful woman who had invited him to one of the rooms, and he stood in the corner.

He liked watching… he liked watching men talking, he liked watching reactions, who was talking to who, and who reacted to what, he was good at it, this was a new territory he wanted to conquer, for his family, to take his rightful place in the senate, and he needed to be watchful of his every step.

Oh how he would have liked to have you by his side, your eyes, added to his, saw twice as much.

All the men of the republic worth knowing were under this roof. Although the man of the day, Tywin Lannsiter himself, and Otto Hightower, the second in command, were nowhere to be seen at this late hour, they were sure behind their studie’s walls, plotting.

The Baratheons were not in the atrium at the moment either, but rather because they did accept the beautiful slave’s invitations.

And he was here, standing in the middle.

To gather the attention of all of them, he needed to do so with something they all admire from time to time, and if the show of today in the coliseum was any indication, he knew exactly how to do it.

“Enough pondering”, he said, to Tyland and Edwyn Redwyne, both smiled toothingly. “let’s start spending my family’s money”, he said with a confident smile.

Tywin would not sully himself with dealing with gladiators and their training, but his nephew Tyland would, as the second born male, he had dedicated himself to other endeavors rather than having the largest gold mine in the Republic, he dedicated himself to business of pleasure to the senses of the people of King’s Landing.

“I’ll tell you, Harwin Strong, is a champion loved by all the people in King’s landing, it will definitely catch people’s attention, especially under your patronage”, muttered Tyland, “of course I would never put him in the market, but for you, my friend… I’m willing”

Robin was not as savvy in the world of Gladiators as he liked himself to be.

But the very late hours of the night found him signing papers of ownership, over Harwin Strong.

And the very early hours of the day found him finally arriving to his family’s villa

As the sunlight already lightened all the open spaces of his house, his servants were up as well, started their daily duties, he greeted each and every one of them as he entered his home towards his private quarters.

“A letter from your father arrived in the middle of the night”, you said as you saw your husband entering the atrium, he sighed as he saw you, with a tired smile. You were all dressed and ready to start your day, while he was barely just arriving, “I have fixed a small breakfast for you”, you signaled to the trays of foods with various fruits and cheeses alongside tables at the Triclinium at the next vestibule.

Robin smiled at you and cradled your face in his hands and he leaned in for a kiss on your lips

“You are the best wife I could ever ask for”

“Oh I KNOW”, you mocked, sticking you tongue out for him, “your father would like us to remember why he send us here”, you said more severely, turning to what was important.

“You read the letter?”, he asked, raising one of his eyebrows at you

“Of course I did”, you said quickly

“Good, you know how I hate surprises”, he chuckled

“He is right”, you tried, “I need to get pregnant”, you said, he nodded, sighing, you knew this wasn’t a good time to bother him with this, he had barely slept, but the letter had just arrived after weeks on the road and you needed to send answer and quickly.

He seemed to think about it for a while, and then he looked at you again

“Give me a couple of days”, he said softly, “and I might come to a solution to our troubles”, he said softly, you nodded

“Fine”, you said, giving him a smile, “join me for breakfast?”, you asked him

“Of course my love”, he said simply. You walked towards the open dining room, it was a bit ostentatious to have your food there while nobody else was present, but you were still getting ahold of the new villa of his family in the capital, and the servants and slaves on it. The villa is on the main street of King’s Landing. From the front door you could actually see the imperial palace and even the curia and the main square.

You ate as he told you anecdotes about his night and the people he saw in it, you knew there was something in there he wasn’t telling you, but… you let him be.

Robin gazed upon the pool placed in the middle of the triclinium, and frowned when he noticed it was empty

“The pool”, he pointed.

“Well, with the current drought, I’d rather drink the water we can luckily afford instead of gazing upon it”, you said simply, sipping the same liquid, “I will not have our servants and guards drop due to dehydration”, Robin smiled at you

“My very conscious wife”, he admired

“When the rains come, thanks to the offerings at the vulcanalia, the impluvium will see to the restoration of the pool”, you said certainly, he nodded

“Very well”, he said with a soft smile. He took a long sigh as he gazed upon the beautiful paintings on the wall, depicting on each wall, the four seasons and the gods related to it, as he gazed upon the wall on the left, there was a depiction of the summer, in the corner, the god Vulcalo gazed upon the room on a cave, fire around him

“The vulcanalia approaches quickly”, he said without thought, you looked at him and smiled

“I can’t wait to see the games”, you offered, “go to circus maximus and gaze upon the chariot races”

“Don’t you want to gaze upon the gladiators?”, he tried, raising one of his eyebrows, you looked at him, conflicted

“I think the races are more attractive”, you said shyly. He didn’t insist on it. You enjoyed the company of the other as you laid in your chairs

“I have taken lovers, you should take some too”, he said, finishing his tale, with those big eyes of him

“I don’t take it lightly”, you said with a sigh, laying down looking at the beautiful tiles of the ceiling, “I don’t just want to lie with anybody”,

“I know you didn’t want to come to the capital…”, he tried then

“I didn’t”, you conceded

“But I want you to be happy, or at least content…”

“I feel so lonely all the time”, you whispered, “at the Vale at least I had friends”

“You should go out there, I will speak to my friends, you can invite them and their wives, host a small diner in the atrium”

“Well I don’t want to get too attached, what is going to happen when we go back to the Vale?”, you said, looking at him in defiance, he gave you an apologetic smile.

“We might be here a while”, he said carefully, “my father wants me to take his seat in the senate”, he said firmly, you nodded

“I’m aware”, you said softly

“We need to built a life here”, he said surely, “come back with a few children at least”

“I know”, you assured him. “You have your mission, and I have mine”, you assured him

“Indeed we do”, he said with a soft smile.

Your conversation with your husband only strengthened his resolve and he seemed pleased with his hurried decision to embark himself on the life of a Lanista. He knew how careful you were with the people you decided to relate to, so he knew you wouldn’t find a lover easily, not in the delicate environment you were navigating.

You could pick the wrong one, and then the entirety of King’s Landing would know.

So, as he had gazed upon the handsome gladiator, he had another reason to support his endeavour.

It was literally two days until he went to Tyland’s Lannister Ludus to retrieve his new man.

He knew nothing of training, he had a spare room in the servants quarters and a spacious open inner atrium where he could practice. You, as a family, had everything you could ever need.

So he knew he was going to find you at home after midday supper, then is when he entered his home, Harwin Strong himself hot on his trail.

The man at his side was quiet, didn’t say anything but he watched with interest the villa and all within it.

Harwin was born into a good Andal family, being the second son there was not much to be expected from him, yet he grew to best his elder brother in everything he set his eyes on, and for a whole season, it seemed that he was his father’s clear successor. Until his untimely death in the middle of the night under strange circumstances. The next thing the proper patrician families knew, is that he had ‘condemned himself’ to the life of a gladiator, on his own accord.

That couldn’t be the furthest from the truth.

But Harwin Strong was somewhat a simple man, and he was playing the hand he was dealt with. That said hand led him here, to the Villa of one of the most prominent families of the Republic, he looked at the young man and he knew that he did not know much of what he was doing, but he seemed a good man, fearful of the gods, and apparently his wife.

That thought alone made him chuckle

You stood in a beautifully decorated room leading to the atrium, as Robin had his study, you had yours, in which you liked to pursue your interests.

“My darling wife”, started Robin, moving the curtain to enter your private space

“Good day husband”, you greeted as he used to.

“I want to introduce you to someone”, he started, so you forced a pleased smile on your face and followed him back to the main space of your villa. You expected friends, prominent people, but you did not found any of that.

“Robin, who’s that?”, he turned back to you and smiled at you, gave you those smiles that he displayed when he had done something stupid.

“This is Harwin Strong, a Gladiator…”, he said, you raised your eyebrows at him, inviting him to explain further, “...I have purchased”, your face got all serious all of a sudden, as you looked at your husband and then you turned to the man in question.

The man was big and broad, dark long locks adorned his handsome face, he had those beautiful big green eyes, and unlike the rest of the men who fought in the arena, he had a beard and mustache over his lip.

“Eh…”, you didn’t know what you could possibly say, no in front of him at least, “may I speak to you in private, husband?, you asked him. He nodded, not very enthusiastically

“Luceon”, he called a young servant, “please take him to his chambers, the unoccupied room in the servants quarters”, he said the young man nodded and accompanied the gladiator, he barely fit through the hallways

“What the fuck?”, you whispered angrily to him, he immediately raised his arms in surrender. This took you by complete surprise, as the presence of the gladiator in your home had completely sweep you off your feet.

“He is our way into the high society”, he said quickly

“How so?”, you asked him, frowning.

“He will fight under our name in the Arena, capturing the attention of all the high families”, you looked at him with a frown, and in disbelief.

“Robin, I cannot presume to tell you what to do, with yourself and your family’s fortune, but…”

“You can always presume to do so”, he said quickly

“I don’t think you thought this through, many of the great families have nothing to do with the Lanista life, and furthermore, Lanistas are not in much… great esteem”, you said as delicately as you could.

“Tyland Lannister is”, he said quickly

“Tyland Lannister is the second son of a second son!”, you said then

“He sits in the senate”

“Near the door”, you responded, but he seemed so thrilled about this, you couldn’t take it away from him, so you just shook your head. “We know nothing of training gladiators”, you said then, “and he will be only one… I hope”

“He was once a free man, entering this world because of pure pleasure, he had been in it for at least ten years, he knows what he is doing, and I also saw to that small complication”, he said quickly.

“You bought a Doctore too?”, you asked him, he only smiled apologetically to you, you shook your head again, taking a big breath

You looked at your husband, your very best friend since you could walk and remember.

It was not a conventional marriage, it was true, Robin preferred the company of other men, and even though you tried, he couldn’t summon children from you. You knew this once you married, and again, you did not care. Where everything is up to the Gods, up to fate and the ambition of people around you, you choose the safest path, the better path.

Your life alongside Robin was a bit short of perfect. Your parents were thrilled you decided to choose one another and did not fight it but encouraged it. The only thing you were lacking… was a child. You had been married for five years, and still nothing. You knew how to read between the lines, and the Paterfamilias of the Arryns was many things, but he was not an idiot.

You were sent here, away from the eyes of the Vale and the seat of Robin’s house to make an heir, however you chose. He knew about his son’s preferences, and he did not care, as long as he got what he wanted: the security of his line, and his house. That is why, you believed, he chose you above many other, perhaps more suitable candidates to marry his son.

You were his friend, completely devoted to him, you were a willing accomplice and the most faithful they could secure. It was an agreement, where everyone won.

Some times, at night you’d wonder how it would feel like, to have a husband that desired you, that wanted to have every part of you, but then you’d think about the way that even if you had married a man who preferred to lie with women, one that desired only you was also very difficult. Not guaranteed.

But the love you held for one another, even if it wasn’t passionate, it was true and the purest kind of love. Born from friendship and loyalty.

Robin was a great husband, an amazing friend, and one day, he was going to be the best father and Paterfamilias to your house, and you were going to be by his side.

Your body slave helped you remove your stola you whore for the day. As it was truly hot, you got away with the fact of using only one layer of proper clothing, as it was delicately made and the details in gold drove all the attention to the sheerness of the material itself. being in the center of the city made sure you were truly trapped in the heat. The wind did not blow as freely.

“How is the fabric of the new dress for this weather?”, you asked Thalia

“It is very fresh, yet modest, domina, it was a great choice”, she said softly, releasing your hair from the decorations you chose for the day.

“If it's of any discomfort, to you or any other, please let me know”, you said softly, she nodded.. Thalia was your body slave, and Luceon Robin’s, they are to be by your side, and you held them in steem above the rest of the servants/slaves. Thalia had been with you since you were a child, she was born in your father’s villa in the Vale, born into the servitude of your house.

“Make sure please everybody has eaten and drank water”, you said, she nodded, as she exchanged looks with Luceon. “Thank you Thalia, you can go to bed now, the hour is late”, you said gently, she smiled

“Thank you domina”, she said softly, bowing her head, and then she left you in your nakedness, to put on your simple tunic for sleeping.

Robin soon joined you, wearing his own soft tunic.

“I couldn't help but notice… that Harwin has the same coloring as me”, he said sheepishly as he laid on the bed. With a sign of his hand Luceon was quick to leave you both alone for the night

“So…?”, you mumbled, raising one of your eyebrows, You grabbed a golden pitcher and put the water in a matching basin. you put oils then, then proceeded to cleaned your arms, and armpits, to get ready for bed.

“Didn’t you notice? similar hair color, similar eye color…”, he teased with a smirk, you rolled your eyes, but he could not see you.

“Robin I know where you're going with this”, you warned

“He is perfect”, he said then, carefully

“You bought him to fight to the death for you and now you want to make him lie with me?”, you asked him.

“I promised you I’d find a way to give you what you want… what I need, too”, he whispered, “I told you to give me a couple of days!” he said then, hurriedly.

“And you came with this conclusion?”, you asked, astonished, finally turning to face him, “that’s why you purchased him?”, you asked, not believing his words

“No”, he said, and he was sincere, “My friends convinced me to do it while on my cups, but I couldn’t help but notice…”

“You really want me to lie with a man that probably wants to kill us? that could kill me?”, you asked him, you were exaggerating and you knew it, but still

“I told you it isn’t like that with him, he started as a gladiator as a free man”, he said, “he has known wealth and liberty, he does this because he wants to”, he said then, he scrutinized your expression and then he gave you a smirk, “don’t lie to me, I know you fancy him”, he teased

“He is handsome”, you admit, “I’m not blind, but did you really just purchase the patronage of a man, so he could lie with me?”, you asked him, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, you were hurt. He raised from the bed as quickly as a snake, and grabbed your hand gently, and caressing their backs with his thumb, he searched for your eyes and you let them find them gazing at him in turn.

“I did not give him my patronage so he could lie with you”, he said, and he was truthful, you knew him better than you knew yourself. “But I did want to get involved with the games, and… well, he was willing and able, he was the perfect opportunity, the rest… came after”, he said.

He would never push you towards it, but you had been married for longer than five years, and his parents were getting nervous. He was the ever doted upon only child, so the survival of his house, of a great family of senators and kings before the republic, lied with him, and you.

Not that his parents didn’t know of his inclinations for the same sex, but they always had faith… in you… of all people, to summon his heirs. A great burden, but he was your very best friend in the whole world, and now your husband.

They send you here… in the eyes of everyone to gain favor and take a place in the senate, but… you had the unspoken mission of summoning an heir, however you could.

You couldn’t help but sigh loudly, you always knew that your mission in life was to bring forth children, to be the carriers of their father’s name, you to be a proper Andal woman, to be a matron, to care for your family, and your house’s affairs. to be an ever dutiful daughter, wife, and mother. You were alright with that prospect, you were. You wanted to be… And yet you were failing

“I am sorry I cannot give you what you want, and what i want too, and need”, he said, with a broken voice, it had only been a couple of times in your life when you heard him talk with this tone, and it brought you chills.

“You don’t need to be sorry Robin”, you said shyly, kissing his cheek, “you are the very best man I know”

“And i’m sorry if I ever brought you pain or discomfort”, he whispered against your cheek

“You could never”, you whispered. He kissed your forehead slowly.

“Let’s go to sleep, wife, great weeks are ahead”, he said softly. And you went to sleep in Somnus’ arms

Robin had been extra caring towards you for the next few days, as an apology for purchasing a gladiator and assuming you could bed him.

Harwin trained in the villa alongside his doctore but you didn't even look at the man, your villa was big enough so you didn't have to glance upon him unwillingly. You were apprehensive of him because once you had the chance to gaze upon his almost naked form, sweaty, his chest there for all to see, as he trained in the courtyard. He caught you staring and ever since you had been avoiding him like the plague.

So you just ignore him, he was something Robin wanted to pursue, and you should support him. Even though the thought of a man having him fight to the death because you paid for it didn’t sit well with you at all, but if he had been a free man then you guessed it was better.

The vulcanalia was fast approaching, big celebrations all over the Republic, in which you were to appease the god Vulcan, for him to be merciful, as he was the god of wildfires, very common under this heat.

There were going to be religious processions, athletic events, as races on foot, and even wrestling. There were going to be hunts of wild animals, and specially, chariot races and gladiatorial races, being shown in the Circus Maximus instead of the coliseum, as it was the biggest venue of the city.

So when the celebrations started, the 21st in honour of the god of harvest Consus, they proceeded two days later to honor Vulcano, and afterwards two days for the goddess Ops, to reinforce the crops, to finalize the week to make tributes to Volturno, the god of water and fountains. It was a whole week of celebrations, for your gods to protect the harvests and give you a fruitful season for the fall and winter.

The morning of the 21 of August you met with RObin in the villa’s Lararium, you left offerings for the Lares of your family, and Robin left his, you finished the small and private ceremony with a short prayer, as the harvest reaping was over.

As a family, you were going to wait out the ceremony under the Circus Maximus, but you couldn’t wait to see what happened after…

You arrived just in time to the big and open stadium to see the start of the chariot races, the symbolic mule driving chariot leading the procession

“Is she here?”, RObin asked, looking at the end of the Stadium at the puLVINUS

“Who?”, you asked

“Her! The daughter of the emperor!”, he said with excitement

“You just missed her!”, said the man standing next to both of you, your disappointment was obvious

The beautiful golden chariot led by mules and donkeys went slowly, rounding the entire circus, and when he was back in front of the pulvinus, it disappeared behind the big metal gates on the west side of the big building.

People cheered and applauded, you did too, as the best was coming.

You were in the far end, so you could see all the chariots turn and maneuver, it was as exciting as being in the pulvinus itself. As you were out there surrounded by hundreds of people, Robin saw fit to bring in two guards with you, you brought in Thalia as you knew she enjoyed the races as much as you did.

The week leading to the vulcanalia was one of the greatest celebrations, also celebrated in the Vale (and sometimes even harder because of the roughness of its climate and soil), you were familiar with the celebrations, and being in the capital for it for the first time was also breathtaking.

The chariot races would also be celebrated in the Vale, and the houses went all out, decorating the chariots with silver, gold and copper fixtures, the horses were beautifully groomed, their beautiful coats shining under the sun, their heads decorated with pompous headdresses, some wore light armours too, and of course the most prominent colour of each of the four chariots was the one of the faction they represented.

“Which faction are you most inclined to?”, asked Robin

“I refuse to go for the greens”, you said, “your friend Lannister has taken the red faction by storm of course, but I’m into the white I think”

“The blue has a shot too”, he said, “but I will go for Red”

“The White this year is the faction of the Emperor’s house”, you said excitedly

“As always”

“It's so far, I can’t see them”, you said, the pulvinus being at the far end of the circus maximus

“She is there I’m certain, as the emperor”

“They say he was too sick”, you warned

“He never missed the races back when he was healthy”, Robin whispered.

The races were as dangerous and deadly as the gladiator fights, you knew this, especially in the far ends where the curves of the tracks were, also, since it was the capital, you had been warned that the spectators were far more… ‘passionate’, even going as far as cheating, throwing nails and pointy objects into the tracks as to deter the competitors. As each of the factions were becoming more political and vice-versa, this wasn’t just about the race, it was about the family behind it and their power and influence.

But the spectacle was just as magnificent.

Soon the four chariots representing the four factions showed up in the arena, they did a slow, more ceremonial lap around the circus, waving, presenting themselves.

The man in the white chariot wore a beautiful silver helmet, and was dressed in all silver and white.

As the objective of this was speed, they did not wear full armour, but more padded suits, as the fixtures in the chariots were more decorative, although you weren’t sure about the materials.

You held your breath as the ceremonial horn was played and the chariots in the far end started the race. It was seven full laps around the circus, and even from the other side you could hear the hooves of the horses against the sandy dirt.

The first lap was always the ‘cleanest’ sort of speak… the second and third though, it got rougher. As the Green and Red immediately threw themselves on each other's way, the white team took the clear advantage, and the blue was slower than the rest

The white stallions leading the chariot of the white faction took the clear lead, as there was this spoken rule to not play unfair towards it, in deference to the imperial family.

Everyone gasped as the blue chariot was pushed by the green against the walls in your far end of the circuit, the collision was brutal, the sickening sound of wood (and probably bones) crashing was going to haunt you for several nights to come.

The horses raised front the ground unharmed, but no such luck for the racer, as he stood in the ground, broken and screaming.

The race continued as nothing had happened as a commitive were quick to remove the broken chariot and the broken man before the next lap.

The white chariot had taken the clear advantage, followed closely by the red, and now the green who had proven to be a dirty player.

The great senator families were not supposed to be as influential in these games, but the Lannisters had broken that tradition by getting heavily involved with the red faction….

The race ended with no more gruesomeness, giving the victory to the white faction, and yet… you had a bitter taste in your mouth because of what you witnessed.

The sun was bright over the skies, but you had barely noticed it because of the excitement… but it was short lived, as they announced a special set of gladiators fights, in the names they chanted, was the one of Harwin

“You didn’t tell me Harwin was fighting”, you said curtly, Robin looked at you with his signature grin

“It was a surprise”, he offered, “I wanted you to see how good he is doing”

It was a friendly exhibition, three fights happening at the same time, one on each end of the circus, and the other in the middle.

You got to witness Harwin entering the arena under the cheer of the crowd, he was facing a man as big as him, they called him the hound. He was known for his ruthlessness, and probably not the best for this sort of combat, which wasn’t to the death.

“Robin’, you called urgently, grabbing onto his arm, as you saw the size of that… man…, “what if Harwin dies?”, you asked, suddenly feeling fearful for the man.

You had seen gladiators die brutally upon the sands, yet… not one that you had come to know, much less own.

“He won’t!”, he said, but he didn’t even sound sure.

The horns were blown and the fights started.

From your point of view, Harwin looked like he was having the time of his life, fighting someone who was even bigger than him, and that's saying something, since he was huge.

The man known as the hound threw himself at him in an almost animalistic way, after Harwin had teased him for long minutes.

For them this wasn’t a friendly exhibition at all.

You gasped when the man using a big helmet on the head of a dog swung his swords viciously against Harwin, making him drop his shield.

Harwin was barely using something to cover his arms, as his chest was completely exposed, shining with sweat under the afternoon sun. You didn’t realise it then, but you were strangling Robin’s arm driving only on your nervousness that something might befall him.

But in an incredible set of movements, he managed to push his enemy away, and retrieve his shield. Not before giving you a couple of more frights, is that he finally managed to subdue his opponent. Until the fights were over, giving him a clear victory.

Only then you felt like you could breathe again, releasing Robin, who wasn’t as nervous as you were

You didn’t even know why you were acting like this, as concerned.

The conversation with Robin replaying in your mind… Was Harwin the answer to your troubles? it was certainly better than finding a lover elsewhere, where someone could betray you, and the family you were married into. Harwin was loyal to you and your husband… And you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find him quite… attractive…

“That was close”, he said, looking at you, he only had to see your face to know what you were thinking, “we better take advantage of him while we can”, he said with that grin you knew too well. “And I think he could use a reward after this amazing fight”, he teased them. You only rolled your eyes.

“This gathering in the Lannister’s will last all night”, he warned with a soft smile

“Have a great evening husband”, you said softly, he kissed your lips and left you, not before winking at you

You knew what he meant, you knew what you had to do, but above all else, you knew what you wanted to do. You waited long seconds, until you were certain he had left, and you called in your faithful body slave

“Thalia”, you called, in seconds she appeared through the thin veil, “can you fetch Harwin?”, you asked her, although it was not to be put to question, she raised her eyebrows but said nothing as she nodded immediately

“Of course Domina”

“And make sure that… nobody is in this wing of the villa but us”, you whispered, she nodded enthusiastically and went quickly to fetch him

You dropped your tunic, leaving yourself with only a sheet tunic underneath, one almost transparent, that left nothing to the imagination.

This was it, this was you going after what you wanted, what you needed, and maybe, getting something for you in return.

He came quicker than you expected, hearing two sets of steps down the hall, the first silent ones of Thalia, and others.

Was it only you? Or the wine inside the goblet seemed to ripple because of the strength of the steps? Thalia stayed outside, it was only Harwin who used his thick arm to raise the fabric that served to separate the spaces in your home

He seemed truly surprised when he saw you, waiting for you as you were a whore in a Lupanar.

“Domina”, he greeted, doing a small courtesy, bending his neck, bowing his head in your direction

“Harwin”, you said back, his eyes were back on you in a second, and he looked, and his gaze stretched without feeling a bit of shame

“How are you fearing?”, you asked then, he showed no signs of being injured in the exhibition, “is the training proper? is your quarters to your liking?”, he seemed to chuckle, but he hid it well.

“You and dominus show an hospitality towards me that would be shown at only the finest of guests”, he said nodded courtly, his eyesight, again, not drifting from your sheer shape

“I’m glad, would you like some wine?”, you asked him, but he shook his head

“So far I've been liking my new job”, his voice was so thick it made your knees buckle, his eyesight on your breasts, his innate dominance was taking predominance over yours, and you couldn’t have that, you wanted to hold onto the power.

“Stop that”, you demanded, not really knowing what you wanted him to stop to begin with, perhaps his dominant demeanour, “I’m in control here”, you said shakily, but by only looking at you, you knew he had you.

“Yes domina”, he said, with a wide smile on his teasing lips. There was an awkward silence between the both of you, as he looked back at you with sharp eyes and a teasing smile.

“Robin thinks that you look like you could be related”, you threw in there

“We might”, he offered, “well, we both have… two eyes and a nose”, he finish his ‘joke’ with a healthy chuckle, the corner of his eyes wrinkling

“Do not jest!”, you said, “you are of course not kin, but at least you have similar coloring”, he kept his smile as he looked at you with those big green eyes of him

“What do you need from me, domina?”, he asked then. although you had a feeling that he might already know, you wouldn’t be showing yourself at him like this for any other reason, and as his common demeanour was of a man who seemed like he was always going to get laid.

“We need an heir”, you started, “and I… want a babe, I feel lonely and Robin needs an heir”, you echoed nervously, power be damned, you surrender it the second he enters the room.

“You want me to lay with you”, he said softly, his smile unwavering. He was indeed expecting it, but not less happy because of it.

“I know you are a… servant of my husband, and I will not make you do this if you find it distasteful”, you said, “it’s just… I thought…”, he interrupted you by dropping his subligaria at once, revealing his manhood to you.

You gasped at the sight

Is not like you haven't seen one before, but this one was… big, and perfect, already hard, pointing to the ceiling, pink at the tip

“Like I said…”, he said, “I’m very much enjoying my new patronage”, he said, “but I want to know..”, he saw you doubt, as you looked everywhere nervously, “how you want to do this”

“What is your meaning?”, you asked, he took bold steps towards you, and it took everything in you to hold your place.

Soon his hot breath was upon you, and his strong presence was all you cared about, all you could see, feel and touch if you wanted to.

“If you are in command…”, he teased, with a soft smile, his fingers, although so big, barely touched the skin of your shoulder, as if they were merely butterflies, toying with the strap of your dress, “...or if you wish for me, to take the lead…”

Oh you wanted him to lead, to ravish you, to possess you, to grab you, throw you in the bed and do whatever he pleased with you, have his way with you.

But something wouldn’t let you, perhaps the rational part still left.

You thought… thoroughly on how you wanted to do this, you wouldn't want for him to take you as you were a slave, from behind, but you wouldn’t want him on top of you either.

So you took matters into your own hands, pushing him back from his shoulders and making him sit on the couch of the room. He was again amused by you, but he let you move him without complaint nor doubts. - you could have never dreamt of moving him an inch against his will. His hands, you could tell, moved of his own accord, out of pure instinct, and grabbed your stola, making you remove it over your head, leaving you completely bare, and… you couldn’t care less. The feeling of his hands grabbing onto anything they could numbed you almost immediately, soothing all your nerves.

He had proven to be greedy and willing in a few seconds, as you felt his cock underneath you, literally dripping to be inside you. You wondered if it was proper to kiss him, but the doubt resolved itself as he was right there, his face in front of yours, and he kissed you hungrily.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him in even more as he devoured your mouth with his.

His hand sneaked in between your legs, and you gasped in his mouth, he slipped then in between your already slippery folds. You moaned in his mouth as he started teasing you open for him, in preparation for what was to come.

He took his time, teasing you and getting you even more wet for him, and you were ready, moaning and moving your hips desperately for more, he, in a single movement, moved you from his lap until you were laying on the bed, and he was on top of you in a second.

“Are you ready for me… domina?”, he asked, as breathlessly as you were, you nodded, not being able to resist it much longer. “Need your words”, he whispered, looking into your eyes with his beautiful ones

“Yes, please”, you moaned, spreading your legs even further apart. He sunk himself inside you, slowly, but surely. You felt a very strong pressure, and then a fullness that took your breath away. You felt like you couldn’t move, but at the same time, that you’d die if he didn’t.

He retrieved himself only to push inside you once more, making you moan. It was a stretch, it was painful, and yet… you wrapped your legs around his waist, only to encourage him to push inside even more.

“Someone’s eager”, he admired, caressing the outer side of your thighs.

It seemed like he knew how to play you like an instrument, drawing from you beautiful sounds that you didn't even know were capable of making.

He took you slowly yet passionately, caressing every inch of you, until he made you cum on his cock.

“They say that to get a pup inside a woman’s belly, is more effective this way”, he explained as he was the finest of medicus and you believed him, when he used his fingers on you too, to draw even another orgasm from you, and only then, he cummed inside you. You felt it, the way he unloaded.

He stood still inside you for a couple of minutes, then he released you softly, and as gently as he could.

You released yourself from his grapes, turning on your side, feeling completely satisfied. But you felt him move behind you, his big hands grabbing your hips.

“Wait… again?”, you asked, still out of breath

“Well, if this is in search of an heir, we better get it right”, he said simply. Kissing you again.

Before you could string a coherent thought next to another he was inside you again, stealing your breath, and another climax from you.

The sun was shining over the horizon when he released himself from the sheets and kissed your naked shoulder

“Domina”, he greeted, his tone still teasing you despite everything, and then left you on the bed, his seed dripping from you, making the inside of your things sticky. Three times he had you, releasing himself inside you.

And as you surprisingly discovered, you have been so scared of losing him, that you were glad he did.

taglist! @newtmyhusb @dornishannie @rebeccawinters

Post chapter notes: I don’t know why I picked Robin… I guess is the one noble I thought that could… share some facial features with Harwin, think about an aged Lino Facioli, they at least have the same shade of hair color, a prominent nose and maybe something in the eyebrows. hehe sometimes the characters just take life on their own.

#misguidedgladiators #house of the dragon au #ancient rome au #house of the dragon fanfiction #harwin strong #ser harwin strong #gladiators au #ser harwin x reader #harwin x reader

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