#the sandals are self explanatory

[vanillaboyfriend]

was watching this vod and this outfit...

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - part 3

Plot: Stumbling through a dark town, general Marcus Acacius encounters the festival of Bona Dea. But what at first seems like just a pleasurable way to spend the night leaves a greater impression on him than he counted on. Part One Part Two

General Marcus Acacius x female reader

Warnings: Blood and violence, a brief SA, explicit smut (not the SA). No use of y/n, the reader is pretty much a blank slate if you're a Roman noble lady in 2nd century Tuscany?

Word count: 9.5k

A/N: I'm back with part three of Bona Dea! If you haven't read parts One and Two, you probably should to understand the plot. There are a few points about Roman society, especially women's role in it. In a very archaic way, daughters remained under the lawful rule of their fathers even after they married. This meant that if a father found out his daughter was unfaithful to her husband, he was allowed to kill her. There are no historical sources of this happening, but the thought alone... A few notes on the Latin. I think most of it is pretty self-explanatory but just in case: Carrisme - dearest or sweetest Letica - a vehicle, a litter used for carrying people Caligae - sandals used by Roman soldiers, studded with metal on the sole. When walking on a hard surface, they make a clattering sound Puella - young girl Vita mea - my life

After Marcus had left you, sleeping in the bed of the room he’d brought you to, you’d slumbered for a little while before waking up and making your way back to the bedroom where Alba was still sleeping. The next morning, you asked for the letica to be brought forward, and you returned to your own villa with Alba without seeing Marcus again. There were no officers around the villa at all and Alba quietly wondered if they’d all returned to the camp outside the city walls to prepare for their march to Rome. She glanced at you as she said it, but you didn’t respond, just stepping into the letica and turning away from the empty courtyard. You were torn, wanting to see Marcus, but also sure how you’d keep your composure in front of him if he came to bid you a formal farewell. There was so much left unspoken between you, so many questions you wanted answers too, but you didn’t know if you could demand them from him. He seemed to care, but the difficulty of your situation was not easily navigated. Did he think it was worth the trouble? How much were you really worth to him? The thought burrowed itself into your brain as you travelled back home in silence. 

As predicted, your husband was in a foul mood, hungover and still recovering from the bad oysters. He was also displeased with how little attention the great general Acacius had given him. Called to his room, you found him still in bed, pale and clammy as the physician prepared a draught. 

“What did the general say last night after I left?” he demanded of you, “Did you find out if he has a wife or a sister you can befriend? We need to secure an invitation to his villa in Rome!” With an impatient hand he grabbed the proffered cup and waved away the physician. 

“He has no wife as far as I know, and no sister was mentioned,” you replied, waiting patiently with your hands folded in front of you at the foot of the bed. You could feel one of Marcus’ love marks on your wrist and you prayed it wasn’t showing a bruise. The ache between your legs was already a constant reminder of the two nights you’d spent with him. 

“Well, when are they leaving? We’ll invite the officers here as soon as possible, tomorrow night,” your husband took a sip of the draught and grimaced, his hand clasping his stomach as he winced, “Fuck those oysters, I’ll find out who sold them to Acacius and have them flogged.” 

“I heard mention that the army is marching to Rome today, husband,” you said, and with a dramatic groan your husband fell back against the pillows, waving you away without a glance. 

You happily left, there was an ache in your heart too, not just your body. Marcus was on his way to Rome and he’d left a big gaping wound behind. You didn’t know if you’d ever see him again, he hadn’t left a note or a message. His feelings, which had been so clear last night when he whispered them to you, in the stark light of day were harder to hold on to. Had he meant it all? Or was he just caught up in the moment, drunk on both wine and lust? And all you could do was hope that your husband would soon travel to Rome and take you with him. There was no way of getting a message to Marcus without arousing suspicion, and how would you even word such a note? There was no circumstance under which a married woman could communicate innocently with a man outside of her family, least of all a celebrated general. It all seemed hopeless. 

If his officers noticed that their general was quieter than usual as they rode out to the camp, they didn’t mention it. He rode at the front, flanked by the standard bearer, but apart from surveying the landscape around him, a die hard habit from years in enemy territory, he was silent, deep in thought. He’d made a promise, as much to himself as to her, to see her again, to not let that night be the last. But how he was to achieve that, he hadn’t been able to solve yet. 

Titus Cassian Aurelius has served under general Acacius for nearly three decades. They’d first met long before Marcus was the celebrated general he was today. They’d come up through the ranks together, but because of his low birth, Titus would never make general. It didn’t bother him, he served as Marcus’s right hand man and made sure his orders were followed in camp when Marcus left. Marcus was the military genius, Titus made sure day to day was working, keeping the soldiers and the camp in shape. Together they were an almost perfect Roman unit. And when Marcus dismounted his horse and handed the reins to the stable slave outside the general’s tent, Titus knew immediately something was bothering his old friend. 

“General Acacius, good to have you back. The men are ready to march,” he said, following Marcus into the tent. It was almost bare, stripped and waiting for the final marching order from the army’s general. 

Marcus grunted in reply and draped his heavy cloak over a chair in the corner, the only remaining piece of furniture. With a sigh he rubbed a hand over his face, contemplating how he’d breach the topic with his most trusted advisor. Matters of the heart was not usually something they discussed, the only women they’d met in the past two years were the whores who inevitably followed the army, and the discussion had been mainly about their lack of hygiene. 

Now Marcus turned to Titus with a furrowed brow and he, in turn, raised his in question. 

“Is something the matter, Marcus?” he asked. In private, they used their first names with each other, a sign of their long and deep friendship. Marcus often felt immense gratitude for Titus, the support it was to have someone he could trust with his life at all times, and now was no exception. There was no one else he could’ve brought this up with. 

“I fear I’ve got myself in trouble while camped in the town,” he said with a wry smile, “a woman, nonetheless.” 

“A woman?” Titus looked surprised, this was not what he’d expected of their general, and he took a step closer as Marcus began to pace the tent. 

“Yes, a woman, a very special woman,” he sighed, “she takes up a great deal of space in my head, and even more in my heart and I don’t know what to do.” 

“Who is she?” 

“The wife of a local business man, a foul man, base and ignoble, and he treats her badly,” Marcus answered, clenching his fists tightly as Titus looked concerned. 

“A married woman, brother?” 

“Yes, unfortunately. Although I didn’t know it when we first met, she wasn’t with her husband and she didn’t mention him. And after I met him, I understood why.” He rolled his eyes at Titus, “He’s an oaf. Last night we hosted a dinner for the local dignitaries and he was there with her. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, as if Venus had stepped down among mortals, but he barely spoke a word to her all night and when he did, it was only to insult her intelligence,” Marcus made a face of distaste and shook his head, “He was like a leech, trying to attach himself to anyone with more power and influence than him, and yet he had the most captivating and intelligent woman sitting next to him all night, but he gave her nothing but sour looks.” 

“Last night only? How did she get you into trouble in just one night?” 

Marcus grimaced, it wasn’t his way to brag about sexual conquests and he cleared his throat in unease as Titus waited for an answer. 

“They have an unusual way of celebrating Bona Dea in this town,” he began, “the night before last, as I left the thermae, I found the town deserted, not even the lamps had been lit. Lost in the dark, I stumbled on to her villa and was pulled inside by a group of women celebrating the night...” Marcus gave a small chuckle at the memory, “You see, Titus, any man who’s found outside on that night is free game for the women, to do whatever they want with.” 

“Whatever they want?” Titus laughed in surprise as he caught on, “You mean, anything at all?” 

“I mean anything,” Marcus confirmed, “I passed a brothel and the leno told me a story of a man being made to fuck a goat!” 

“Gods…” Titus laughed, shuddering at the thought, “Please don’t tell me you were made to fuck any animal?” 

“Thankfully, no. Someone did float the idea around, but it was passed over out of concern for the goat.” 

Titus laughed as Marcus grinned, “It was an interesting experience though. They blindfolded me as soon as I came inside, told me the rules and stripped me naked.” 

Titus eyes nearly fell out of his sockets, “Please, go on, and tell me you got to fuck some of these women?” 

“I did, I don’t want to be crass about it, but it was certainly an experience.” 

“And the woman, Venus as a mortal? Did you…?” 

“Yes, it was her house and she was in charge, when the younger girls had fallen asleep, I spent the night with her,” Marcus sank down on the chair and ran his hand through his hair, “She had a presence that drew me to her, even when I was blindfolded, the way she took charge, ordering me to touch her…” Marcus trailed off, lost in thought and Titus drew a deep breath. 

“Gods, I wish I’d joined you in town, Marcus!” he chuckled, “You had an adventure most men would only dream about.” 

“And it didn’t do me much good. Now I can’t get her out of my head and I’m at a loss about what to do!” Marcus groaned, “I tried staying away, but when she came to the dinner last night, I was nearly struck dumb. And before I knew what I was doing, I took a great risk and sought her out as she went to relieve herself. I had to know if she felt even a fraction of what I felt after our night.”

“And did she?” Titus asked, looking at Marcus with concern, he’d never seen his friend so frustrated and lost over a woman before. In fact, he’d never seen him this lost before at all. Marcus' great strength as a commander was that he never lost his way, he always knew what was needed, even if the road to get there was difficult and hard. He was never without a plan and then two or three contingency plans, mapping the road to his victory and taking every possible pitfall into consideration. But now he seemed to flounder as he talked about a woman who’d so clearly captured his heart.

“She does, how I don’t know, but she does. She told me and then she showed me with her actions. By chance, or intervention of the gods, she had to stay the night at the villa we commandeered in town. We spent the night together again, and things were said that makes me believe she feels just as deeply for me as I do for her. But how can I be with her? She’s married!” 

Marcus slumped in the chair and sighed deeply, “We march to Rome today, and then she’ll be lost to me forever and I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” 

Titus narrowed his eyes as Marcus rubbed a hand over his face, sighing deeply again. 

“Delay the march, I have an idea, brother,” Titus said after a few moments of silence, “You say this husband of hers is greedy and power hungry, let’s use that against him.” 

“Delay the march? We need to be in Rome in a few days, we’re expected by the emperors.” 

“I’ve planned for delays, we were due to arrive three days early if we leave today. We’ll just arrive two days early if we stay here another night, it won't make a difference.” 

Titus gave his old friend a bright smile, “Come on, I haven’t met this woman yet, but if she’s got the great Marcus Acacius on his knees, she must be truly special and that I can’t let you give up on.” 

When evening came, your husband was feeling better, but still remained in his private bedroom rather than come to the one he shared with you. Grateful for small pleasures, you still tossed and turned throughout the night. It had never been easy to be married to a man you didn’t love, but it had been convenient. As long as you could put up with his occasional visits and demands for his marital rights, you led a comfortable life and saw little of him. But now, with Marcus invading your every thought, it became impossible to feel content with the life you had. You could feel his hands on you whenever you moved, small bruises and marks littering your body from the two nights you’d spent with him, reminding you of him as the night dragged on. 

It was foolish, you didn’t know the man, not really. You’d seen him surrounded by his men and guests during one evening, spent two incredible nights in bed with him, but all that fueled your passion for him was lust. The way he made you feel when he put his mouth, his hands, on you, it drove all rational thought from your mind. Yet you felt yourself standing on the verge of throwing all you had away for him, for the opportunity to be close to him again. There was a deeper connection there, you felt certain of it. 

When morning came, you were heart broken and exhausted, picking at the food the household slaves put out. Your husband came through and nibbled on some dry bread before he called for the letica and headed out. A message had been delivered early and he was called away on business. 

Grateful to be alone, you withdrew to the gardens at the back of the villa, where the cool water of the fountain kept the air fresh. Alba hovered nearby, but she sensed your mood and stayed quiet, working diligently at her embroidery. You wandered around the garden, absentmindedly tending the late blooming flowers that still showed their colours in late December. The wilted heads were plucked off and tossed aside as your thoughts drifted to Marcus despite your best efforts to push him to the very back of your mind. Each snap of the dry stalks felt like another rejection of any hopes you had of seeing him again. 

“Domina, excuse me,” one of your servants had approached on soft feet and startled you with their deferential interruption, “General Acacius is here to see Master Lunaris but he has not yet returned so the general asked to see you instead.” 

“General Acacius?” you asked, managing at the very last moment to keep your tone neutral, “show him to the reception room, I’ll be right there.” 

The servant bowed and hurried off and you went in search of Alba. You needed her in the room with you, you could not let the servants see you alone in a room with a man, but Alba would be discreet. 

“Alba, come here, quickly!” you called to her when you spotted her on one of the low marble benches, “He’s here!” you hissed as you got close. Alba’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, she knew who you meant without needing to guess and she gasped. 

“He’s here? I thought the army left yesterday morning? Why has he come back?” 

“I don’t know, but he’s here and I need you in the room with me, and we need to make sure the servants don’t hear anything, come.” 

You smoothed your hands over your dress and then your hair. You were a tired mess after your sleepless night and with quick movements you pinched your cheeks to brighten your skin. As you stopped in the hall outside the reception room, Alba rearranged your dress and covered your hair. 

“I’ll tell the servants to leave, make sure no one comes in while he’s here,” you whispered to her and she gave you a quick nod. 

Marcus was standing in the middle of the room, studying the mosaic on one of the walls, his hands clasped behind his back. The dark fabric of his tunic strained across his wide shoulders underneath his armour, his sword belt hung low on his hip, he was dressed for travelling.

“General Acacius, what an honour to have you in our home,” you approached him with your head bowed and only glanced up when he turned to you. He bowed low in return and swept his cloak to the side. 

“I came to see your husband, but I hear he is away on business,” Marcus replied, “I have information for him, but I trust I can pass it on to you?” 

“Yes, of course, general,” you answered, hardly daring to meet his eyes as your mind reeled trying to figure out what information he might have for your husband. Marcus was fully in his official role, his voice commanding and curt, his hands still clasped behind his back as he stood straight, his eyes never wavering from you or betraying any emotion except a slight impatience at having to deal with the wife of the man he’d come to see. 

“Leave us,” you called to the two servants hovering at the edge of the room, “Alba, you stay, and pour us some wine.” 

The two household servants scurried out of the room and Alba served you both wine from the amphora that was always kept in the reception room for any visitor. You sat down on one of the sofas and Marcus sat down opposite. Alba placed the cups next to you and then retreated to the doorway of the room, close enough to see you, and stave off any accusations of being alone with a man, but far away enough for you to have a private conversation. 

“I apologise for turning up like this, without warning,” Marcus said, his voice suddenly softer, no longer bearing a stern edge as he leaned forward, his hand briefly landing on your leg, “I made up an excuse to keep the army camped here for another few days, I had to see you again.” 

“I couldn’t sleep at all last night, the very thought of you already being so far away from here…” you replied, your voice filled with emotion as you saw how warmly he smiled at you.

“You’ve truly cast a spell on me, carrisime,” he whispered, moving to sit next to you on the sofa, his hand falling to your waist, and you leaned into him, the pull of him irresistible. 

“You’re lucky my husband was called away on business, he almost never leaves the house before noon,” you mumbled as Marcus leaned his head closer, his strong nose brushing over your cheek. 

“Yes, the gods are smiling at me,” he mused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin as he captured your mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. You felt yourself melt into him, his warm hand on your waist, bringing you closer, his other hand, large and calloused on your cheek, holding you in place as he nudged your lips apart, letting his tongue find yours. With a sigh you opened your mouth and let him take as much as he wanted, all other thoughts disappearing from your mind. Marcus groaned softly into you, pulling you closer as his kiss grew more heated, his hand slipping to your hip and tugging at you to come up into his lap. 

“Marcus, not here,” you protested, putting your palms against his solid chest plate, feeling the ridges of Medusa’s hair under your fingers. 

“Your servant girl won’t say anything, will she?” he asked, glancing over at Alba who was standing in the doorway with her back to you both. 

“No, but someone else might come,” you said, shaking your head as he took your hand and stood up. 

“Come, let’s find a more secluded spot then,” he smiled, pulling you to your feet. 

“Marcus, we can’t, it’s too risky,” you replied, but he only smiled wider and made you follow him, a firm grip on your hand as he winked at Alba and checked that the coast was clear. He hurried down the hallway and quickly turned a corner. Following the familiar layout of almost all Roman villas, he led you towards the thermae, the warmer air enveloping you as he pushed the door open. 

“No one will come in here until your husband is home,” he chuckled, pulling you inside as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “only you and me, my domina.” 

“Marcus…” you protested weakly, but he grinned with an almost boyish charm, a mischievous look in his eyes as he continued to walk you into the room, stopping only when the back of your legs came up against one of the two slabs of marble used for massages. With a swift motion, he lifted you up onto the flat surface and made room for himself between your legs. 

“I needed to see you before I left, and I need to make sure you’ll come to Rome,” he mumbled, pressing wet kisses to your neck as his hands began to caress your thighs, sliding up under your stola, “Will you come to Rome once I’m back there?” 

“How, Marcus?” you asked with a breathless moan, tilting your head back to make room for him as he nipped and licked at your skin. This was too dangerous, too exposed even in the thermae, but Marcus’s hands were kneading at your hips, grabbing at your behind as he rolled his hips into yours. The evidence of his arousal was pressing into your core and you could feel your own arousal building, liquid heat beginning to fill your cunt, “I can’t go on my own, my husband would never allow it.” 

“Then I’ll invite him, make up some reason,” he replied, his calloused hand leaving your hip and sliding up along the inside of your thigh as he spread you open, “Now, tell me, will you let me feel you come on my cock one more time? Is she ready for me, domina?” 

He tugged your undergarment loose and locked eyes with you, watching your face as he softly caressed his fingers through your wet folds with a low growl. The sensation forced all other thoughts from your head, Marcus’s dark eyes, his steady gaze on you, and the tremors that rushed through your body when he brushed over the apex of your sex, it turned you liquid and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him to your lips. 

After that, it was all just Marcus, filling your senses, taking over as you yielded to him; his soft curls under your hands, the hard edges of his armour pressed against your chest, his deep rumbling voice as he mumbled against your lips. You whined in protest when he removed his hand from your wet folds, but then the thick head of his cock breached your entrance, making you keen and and moan as he filled you up, snapping his hips and driving himself deep inside your cunt. 

“Domina…” he growled, his pliant lips claiming your mouth between gasps of air and mumbled words, “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, the wine tastes like vinegar, ever since I met you…carrisime…I need you in Rome with me…” 

He was taking his time with you, his large hand warm across your back as he kept you where he needed you, his mouth never leaving yours for more than a few mumbled words as he slowly, meticulously, slid his cock in and out of your slick cunt, slowly building your orgasm with every thrust. 

A call from somewhere inside the villa made you snap your head up, turning towards the door, but Marcus’s hand found your jaw and he pulled you back to his mouth. 

“Stay with me, carrisime, let me feel you, so tight and wet for me, let me fuck you and fill you up just the way you like it.” 

He sped up a little, his hand sliding down between your legs and found your small pearl, swollen and aching for his attention. 

“Marcus,” you cried, gasping as he began circling his, sending white hot lightning bolts through your limbs, “Oh gods, Marcus…” 

You were being too loud, at the back of your mind you felt fear trickling down your spine, but Marcus edged you on, driving his thick cock through your heat, his fingers finding a rhythm that seemed to take your breath away as your head tipped back. 

“There it is, domina, such a tight little cunt for me, squeezing me so hard,” he growled, “let me hear how good I make you feel, let me fuck you like this every day for the rest of my life, make you mine, my domina.” 

His words made your mind buzz, his fingers, his cock making pleasure cloud your mind, taking over every sense. 

With a crash the door to the thermae burst open and you cried out with shock. Marcus drove himself into you again, growling loudly. In panic you scrambled to get away from him, pushing at his chest plate but it made no difference, he snapped his hips one more time, and turned his head to look at your husband.

“Wife!” Lunaris yelled from the doorway, his voice close to hysteria as you furiously pushed at Marcus, but it was like pushing a giant boulder, he wouldn’t budge. 

“Lunaris,” Marcus huffed, still looking at your husband, but his face was not the one of a man caught balls deep in another man’s wife. Instead he wore a face of triumphant satisfaction as he stilled his hips, “Come back a bit early from your business I see.” 

“Marcus,” you hissed, fear crawling up your throat, your voice breaking on the last syllable of his name. He didn’t look at you, but you felt his hand on your back begin to caress you gently, a small, calming motion with his warm hand, out of sight from Lunaris. 

Lunaris seemed to stumble into the room, and you saw Alba’s wide eyed face behind him, her mouth hanging open in shock. Lunaris was hissing, grabbing onto one of the pillars as if for support, as he glowered at Marcus, struggling to spit any words out.

Marcus gently squeezed your hip and finally pulled out, adjusting his armour, the pteruges falling back in place as he turned fully to Lunaris who still looked as if he was choking on his own tongue. Behind Marcus’s back you scrambled to adjust your stola and slide off the marble slab. You moved to leave, but his hand shot out, taking your arm and pulling you to his side. 

“You know who I am, Lunaris, and I want your wife. Divorce her, free her from this miserable marriage you’ve imprisoned her in. And if it’s her will, let her come to Rome with me.” 

Marcus's voice cut through the haze of the thermae, through Lunaris pathetic stuttering, his tone commanding and sharp. From the corner of your eye you could see his jaw tighten, his eyes simmering with barely contained contempt for your husband, who was still struggling to catch up to the events of the past minute. 

“Di-divorce her?” he sputtered out, finally finding his voice again, “I’ll have her killed, tell her father what she’s done and have her killed for the shame she’s brought upon his house! Whore!” 

The last word he yelled at you, spit flying from his mouth as he rushed forward, raising his hand to strike you, but Marcus caught his hand and shoved him away. 

“You will not touch her again,” he growled, glaring down at Lunaris, pulling himself up to his full height, “She is no longer yours to command. Divorce her and I will refrain from breaking every bone in your body.”  

The sight of the Roman general in full armour, eyes black with cold fury, seemed to pull Lunaris out of his outrage, stumbling over his feet and his back hitting the marble pillar again. 

“I have witnesses!” he yelled, “Alba, you saw it all! Guards!” Lunaris screamed the last word over his shoulder. 

You looked at Alba, her hand over mouth in shock as she met your eyes, and you shook your head, willing her to back away and not be pulled into this disaster. Your heart filled with fear when she instead stepped into the room and shook her head at Lunaris. 

“I saw nothing, I’ve only seen the domina speaking with the general, he came to the villa looking for you, dominus.” 

“Liar!” Lunaris screamed, launching himself at her just as four of the household guards rushed into the room. He pulled up short at the sight of them, and Alba scrambled out of his way, seeking shelter behind the guards. Lunaris snarled at her and turned to Marcus, pointing an accusing finger at him and opening his mouth to shout something, but Marcus beat him to it. 

“Lunaris!” he snapped, his voice commanding attention, “Think very carefully about my offer, and what I have the power to do,” his voice was a warning, as was his very rank, a general of Rome compared to a small-time business man in a provincial town, far from the power of the capital, “Consider the consequences before you make any decision.” 

Marcus gave your arm a quick squeeze of his hand before he let it go and stepped forward to Lunaris, dropping his voice to a low, dangerous register. 

“I will leave now, but I will come back for what is mine, and I warn you to not do any harm while I’m away.” 

He spun on his heel to face you, giving you a sharp bow, before he turned and strode to the door. The guards, seeing his armour and status, stepped to the side and let him leave unchallenged while Lunaris seethed, glaring at you. 

The thermae was silent while Marcus’s footsteps echoed away through the hallway and fear crept into your body at the look on Lunaris’ face. Marcus had warned him against hurting you, but you didn’t trust Lunaris, or your father. Your honour was tied to your father’s family honour, if Lunaris told your father about Marcus, he had the right to punish you, even put you to death. But he could also throw you from the family, remove your family name and doom you to a life of poverty or enslavement. You’d be worth nothing, even Marcus, with all his glory for Rome, wouldn’t be able to take you in if your father disowned you. 

“Leave us!” Lunaris finally snapped, dismissing the guards with a wave, “You too, you lying little bitch, I’ll deal with you later,” he snarled at Alba who threw you a terrified look before hurrying out of the room. 

You kept your eyes on your feet as the guards shuffled out and the door closed behind Alba. Lunaris was staring at their retreating backs before he rounded on you and grabbed your wrist, his fingers digging into your bones. You tried to pull away but he shoved you backwards, pushing you against the marble slab, still with a hard grip on your arm. 

“You fucking whore, I should’ve known, opening your legs for a general at the first chance. You and your father were always clambering for you to marry a powerful man. Your father practically threw you at me, for all the good it’s done me, no children, no business deals, just a frigid dry cunt,” he spat out, his putrid breath washing over you as he put himself in your face, the sharp marble edge digging into your back, “But now you’ve found a fucking general, that makes you wet, huh?” 

He shoved his hand down, trying to grab between your legs, and you squirmed out of his way. 

“I’ll tell Acacius!” you cried out, “If you touch me, I’ll tell him!”

“Oh, you think you have the protection of the mighty general now do you?” Lunaris snarled, “Think he’ll come running to save your virtue after you’ve let him fuck you like one of the camp whores?” He pushed his knee between your thighs, forcing you to part your legs and he grabbed your sex over the stola with a rough hand, “You’re just another warm cunt to pass his time with, he’ll forget about you once he’s back in his favourite whore house in Rome,” Lunaris grimaced in distaste and shoved you to the side, making you stumble before you caught yourself against the wall, “Pathetic woman, don’t you know he can have any woman in Rome, they’ll be throwing their youngest and most beautiful daughters at him when he returns. What’s he going to do with an old, withered up whore like you?” 

Lunaris was sneering at you as you backed up, pressing yourself against the damp mosaic wall, “I have half a mind to throw you out on the street right now,” he spat, “but he won’t get away that easily.” 

He looked at you for a few moments, you could see the cogs of his slow brain turning as he went over his options. You knew him well enough to know that Marcus’ threat had scared him, but you also knew he’d try to turn it against him somehow. You wished you could warn Marcus even though he must know Lunaris would try to get back at him.  

“Guards!” Lunaris suddenly yelled, his eyes still locked on you as the sound of clattering caligae could be heard out in the hallway. 

“Take the domina to her room and post a guard outside. She’s not allowed to leave under any circumstances.” 

Left in your room without Alba, the rest of the day and the night moved at a snail’s pace. You paced back and forth, trying to listen to the noises of the villa to decipher what was going on. Lunaris left, but when you tried to sneak from your room, the guard ordered you inside and made no secret of what measures Lunaris had told him to use. By the time you fell into an uneasy sleep, most of the night had already passed. 

The dreams that rushed in and out of your angstful mind were frightening, you tossed and twisted in your sheets as Marcus turned his back on you, time and time again as you ran after him. In your dreams he marched away from your husband’s villa without as much as a glance at you, Lunaris cackled as he shut the door behind your back. As you ran after Marcus, the army stretched out, an endless line of marching soldiers with impassive faces, filing past you as Marcus disappeared over the horizon. The soldiers kept marching through your dreams, a never ending clatter of caligae on the paving stones, and when you woke, heavy rain was falling outside, rattling the roof tiles. 

A servant had left you dinner the day before, and now they returned with breakfast. You forced yourself to eat a little and then slumped back onto your bed, waiting for whatever Lunaris would do next. You knew he was plotting and planning something and he didn’t disappoint, just before dinner he came to your room, a triumphant look on his face. 

“So, wife, it turns out your whoring might actually have done some good,” he gloated, practically prancing around your room as you stood by the bed, watching him with weary eyes, “First bit of good that cunt of yours has ever given me.” 

He grinned and rubbed his hands together, chuckling at his own joke as you winced at the way his facade had fallen. He’d never been a pleasant man, but out of fear of your father, he’d still treated you with respect, even when you didn’t give him any children. Not that you knew how his infrequent visits to your bedroom or his pitiful rubbing against you would ever produce a child. Too late for all of that now anyway. Now he was gloating, gleeful in your downfall and inwardly you cursed yourself for letting yourself give in to Marcus in such a public place. 

“I’ve been to see your ‘lover’,” he grinned even though the word came out with contempt, “told him he can puff himself up all he wants, when word gets out that he’s been fucking a married woman, no amount of glory on the battlefield will save him, the law’s the law and I’ll have half his property,” Lunaris smirked at you with a greedy look in his eyes, “I hear his villa in Rome is on the Palatine and the grandest one seen in a century.” 

“What did you do?” you asked with trepidation and Lunaris’s eyes shone with malice as he rubbed his hands. 

“He’s giving me his villa, and a hefty bag of gold as soon as he’s back in Rome, and in return, I won’t tell the Senate about him fucking a married woman and I won’t tell your father. I’ve given orders to pack up the house, we’re leaving tomorrow and the household will follow in a week.” 

You stared at Lunaris, the grin on his face flaunting his glee at what he’d blackmailed the mighty general into giving him. 

“Finally, some real status!” he crowed, “Might even try to get into the Senate with Acacius’ money, and I’ll need a new wife of course,” he smirked at you again, “something young and pretty with a wet cunt to give me sons.”

He chuckled and turned to leave the room, but changed his mind as he got to the door. 

“Do you know what the best thing about the whole deal is?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before he continued, “It’s that you won’t even get him, I’m keeping you!” Lunaris winked at you with a malicious glint in his eye, “I don’t tell the Senate, he gives me money and the villa, and I get to keep you. Because after all that, he doesn’t even want you.” 

You felt your throat close up, tightening when tears threatened to rise in your eyes as Lunaris cackled with delight, “Don’t worry, you’ll be taken care of, the new villa will need plenty of slaves.” 

And with that, Lunaris left the room, shutting the door tight. Through it you could hear his instructions to the guard to not let you leave. Frozen to the spot you squeezed your eyes shut, breathing hard through your nose as bile rose in your throat. The sharp burning jerked you into motion, with a gasp you fell to your knees and emptied the day's food into the pot, retching as it tore through your body. 

You had to stay in Lunaris’s household, Marcus had given you up, given in to your husband’s blackmail to preserve his own status and honour, and he’d given you up to protect himself without a thought at what you’d suffer for it. You’d staved off the tears for the past two days, but now they overwhelmed you, grief tore at your heart as you curled up on the bed, sobs shaking your frame at the unfairness of it all. 

You felt, and probably looked, like a husk of your former self as the carriage left the villa the next day. Your cosmetae had applied some colour to your cheeks and hollow eyes, but it couldn’t hide the reflection that looked back at you in the mirror. Eyes red rimmed from crying, your lips chapped and broken as you continued to chew on them, and most of all, the haunted look that made the slaves look away from you as you walked through the villa one final time. 

As you were still Lunaris’ wife, and no one knew what had happened between you and Marcus, you rode in Lunaris' carriage. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hands as Lunaris continued to brag about how glorious his new life would be, the long road to Rome stretching before you. He would gloat and crow the whole way, you were sure of it. Alba sat in the seat across from you, her gaze mostly on her hands, but every now and then she’d throw a quick look at you. Her eyes were as worried as yours, but you didn’t know what fate awaited her when you got to Rome. Lunaris hadn’t said and you hadn’t had a chance to talk to her in private. 

It was a five day journey to Rome, and the wide, paved Roman road made travelling easy. The death of emperor Marcus Aurelius almost thirty years ago meant Pax Romana had ended and travel was more perilous now than before, but this close to the very heart of the empire, not much threatened those who travelled with armed guards. The clatter of the guards’ horses in front and behind the two carriages lulled you into a numb stupor as the winter bare landscape slipped past. 

On the third day you stared listlessly out through the small gap in the shutters of the carriage door, Lunaris had finally grown bored of taunting you and slipped into a slumber, his head lolling back and forth on his weedy shoulders. 

“Will General Acacius come for you when we get to Rome?” Alba whispered, glancing anxiously at Lunaris who slept lightly. 

“I don’t think we’ll ever see the general again,” you replied in a low voice without turning to look at her, “he’s given in to Lunaris’ blackmail to save his own skin.” 

“I can’t believe he’d do that, not when-”  

Her word was cut short by the loud thump of something striking the carriage door hard. You both looked up at the source of the sound and gasped as you saw a vicious looking arrowhead poking through just a mere handswidth from your head. 

“Bandits!” one of the guards roared, “form up, protect the carriages!”

Lunaris jerked awake and whipped his head around as if he could see through the carriage walls as the sounds of battle grew loud outside. You put your hands out for Alba and pulled her to your side, wrapping your arms around her as you sank down to the floor, covering both your heads with your hands. She was sobbing against you as metal hit metal and men screamed outside. It felt like it went on forever but in reality, it was over in a few minutes, someone cried out in agony and then their voice was suddenly silenced, replaced by only the sounds of footsteps outside. The door of the carriage was thrown open and a rough looking man, a vicious cut over his nose, looked in. Glancing over the three of you, he grabbed Lunaris and yanked him out. Lunaris yelled in fright, but he was helpless against the bandit who threw him onto the rough stones. 

A second man leaned in and grinned, his hand shooting out, snatching at your hair and dragging you out too. You cried out in pain and fear, tumbling through the carriage door, the rough hold on your hair making your scalp sting. The man didn’t throw you to the ground, instead he grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back, holding you tight as you faced the rest of the bandits. There were only three, but your husband’s four guards lay dead on the road side. The two drivers had their hands over their heads, clearly not prepared to die in defending property that wasn’t their own. 

“You owe a debt to Asinius Magnus,” the first bandit told Lunaris who’d been forced to kneel on the road, his neck exposed with the bandit behind him, a long blade in his hand. “Consider it paid in full.” 

You turned your head, but you couldn’t shut out the gasp Lunaris let out as the blade sliced open his throat or the gargling of the blood rushing forth. His body made a dull thump as it fell to the ground. 

“Search both carriages, take what valuables you can find, but be quick!” the bandit’s leader called, “We leave the bodies.”

The one holding you yanked your arms, “What about the girls? Spoils of war?” 

“The older one is not to be touched,” his companion answered, “but take the other one if you want to keep your bed warm.” 

“No! Don’t touch her!” you protested, struggling against the man holding you as he began to wrestle you back towards the carriage. You could see Alba’s terrified face inside, you were determined to not let them take her.

“Run!” you yelled at her, kicking back at the man behind you, your foot miraculously connecting with his shin and he lost his balance. Alba jumped out of the carriage and ran, but the third bandit was right behind her. 

“Fucking bitch, get her!” the leader yelled as the one holding you grabbed your arm and pulled you around. His fist connected with your face and you saw stars as white hot pain shot through your head. Losing your footing, you sank to the ground, head spinning. You heard Alba cry out in fear and a voice yelled.

“Shoot!!” 

The thump of an arrow hitting its mark reached your ears, but you couldn’t lift your head to look for Alba, black dots were dancing in your vision. More voices yelled, some in fear, and again the sounds of battle erupted around you, but just as quickly died down. You could hear the clatter of rain against the roof tiles, dark clouds suddenly forming in your vision, and a warm quilt being pulled over you. The ground fell away beneath you, you were floating under your blanket, or maybe wrapped in it, as the rain clattered. 

“Carrisime, open your eyes,” the low voice demanded in a soft tone, “Come on, look at me now, wake up.” 

The voice was familiar and you could feel his hands gently patting your cheek, rousing your foggy mind.

“Vita mea, I’m here, you’re safe, just open your eyes.” 

With an herculean effort you peeled your eyes open and Marcus’ face floated into focus. 

“There you go, just look at me, carrisime,” he said, his hand stroking your cheek, “you’re safe now.” 

It took you a few more moments to realise that you weren’t floating and it wasn’t raining. Marcus was cradling you in his arms, his thick cloak wrapped around you, as the clatter of soldier’s caligae against the paving stones brought the events of the past few minutes flooding back. 

“Alba…” you croaked, trying to look for her, but Marcus tightened his arms around you.

“She’s unharmed, just a scrape on her knees when she fell over, she’s being taken care of,” he touched his fingertips gently to the part of your cheek that was throbbing, “Do you think you can ride in the carriage with me? I won’t let you out of my sight.” 

You nodded, still uncertain about what had actually happened, and Marcus gently put you on your feet, his arms keeping you steady. He gave sharp orders and the small company of soldiers were back in their saddles, as Marcus joined you and Alba in the carriage. What had happened to the body of your husband you didn’t know and you didn’t want to ask. 

Alba looked stunned and dazed, and you guessed you looked no better, but Marcus commandeered a cloak from one of his soldiers for her, and kept his own wrapped around you. When the carriage began to roll with a jerk, he tightened his hold on you and you gratefully leaned against him. Your body felt loose, your limbs all watery, and you gratefully accepted his warmth and solid frame to hold you up. He bent his head and placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and you felt his hand slowly caress your arm. 

“What happened?” Alba asked, her voice low and uncertain as she looked from you to Marcus and back again. He regarded her for a moment before he glanced down at you. 

“What I tell you can go no further than this carriage,” he said, “If anyone finds out, all our lives are in danger, understood?” 

You nodded and so did Alba, her eyes wide. 

“I’m telling you because I don’t want to start our new lives with dishonesty, but no one else can know.” 

You nodded again and Marcus gave you a small smile, “At least I hope you want to start a new life with me, carrisime?” He touched your cheek gently, “I never had an opportunity to ask you properly, your husband was more devious than I thought.” 

“I do, Marcus,” your voice barely above a whisper, reaching up to place your hand over his as he smiled down at you, “I’ve never wanted anything else so much in life.” 

“How fortunate for me,” Marcus said with a tender voice, placing another kiss to the top of your head, “then I’ll tell you.” 

He drew a deep breath and looked over at Alba again, “I’m sorry you got pulled into this too, I never meant for you to be harmed. But Lunaris guessed that you knew too, and that made him vindictive. He came to see me, and threatened to have you both killed if I didn’t promise him the riches and status he craved. I was hoping he’d divorce you and let you leave his house, free to marry again, but he was determined to have more and ruin me in the process. Had I given in to him, he would’ve held the threat over me, all of us, for the rest of our lives.” 

“You had him killed,” you breathed out, the realisation dawning on you. Why else would Marcus and his soldiers show up just after the bandits had killed Lunaris. 

“Yes, and I’m sorry, but it was his life or yours, and he was worth nothing to me,” Marcus looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, “I had no choice, but I don’t know if you can forgive me.” 

“He told me you’d given me up, that you’d given in to his blackmail and that I was to stay with him because you didn’t want me,” you said, anger rising inside you as you remembered the malicious things Lunaris had told you, the lies he’d made you believe, “He told me he’d keep me as a slave in his new villa while he got a young, new wife. Pluto can have him!” you spat out, and you felt Marcus’s arms tighten around you. 

“Hush, carissime,” he said, “calm yourself, it’s behind us.” 

“You sent the bandits?” Alba asked, “They were going to…” she trailed off as tears rose in her eyes. Marcus leaned over and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be travelling too, please don’t cry, puella.” 

Alba dried her tears and nodded, wrapping her borrowed cloak tighter around herself and you leaned back against Marcus’s solid chest. He let go of Alba’s hand and cradled your cheek in his large palm, softly stroking his thumb over the swollen part. 

“Does it hurt, carissime?” he asked quietly and you nodded, “I’m sorry it happened, I told them to not touch you. I saw no other way out, I couldn’t kill him myself, I couldn’t let one of  my soldiers do it. So I hired the bandits to attack and kill Lunaris and any guards, I was hoping he’d travel without you. I feel like maybe I took too great a risk.”

“I was scared,” you whispered, “I thought they’d rape and kill us, or sell us,” you squeezed your eyes shut at the thought. 

“I’m sorry,” Marcus mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead, “Forgive me, carrisime.” 

You nodded, “I do, even dying would’ve been a preferable fate to serving as a slave in Lunaris’ new household. You’ve saved my life, both our lives.”  

You both fell silent for a while, the rocking of the carriage lulling Alba to sleep, curled up under the cloak on the seat opposite. You stayed tucked under Marcus’s arm as he slowly caressed you, bending his head now and then to press a kiss to your head. 

After a few miles had been covered you stirred and looked up at him. 

“You let Lunaris catch us in the thermae, why?” 

“I know his type, he never would have agreed to divorce you, especially not for a man so much more powerful than him. So I needed to let him catch us in the act so that I could scare him, threaten him into giving you up,” Marcus shook his head as he seemed to think through the events of the past few days, “But I misjudged him, he really was stupid enough to think he could blackmail me. Even if I’d given in to his blackmail, did he think no one would ask any questions when I handed over my villa to him? Or when he tried to buy his way into the Senate? I’m sorry I had to have him killed, but I’m not sorry to see him gone,” Marcus shrugged and adjusted his arm around you, making you lean your head against his shoulder, “Sleep, carrisime, I’ve arranged for us to stay at an inn tonight, but we have many more miles to travel first.” 

Sleep didn’t come easy, even though you closed your eyes and tried to let the carriage’s rumbling motions lull you. You understood why Marcus had done what he’d done, his logic was solid. Kill Lunaris or lose you and everything in his life. And Lunaris was nothing to him, just an annoying, vindictive little man, it didn’t matter to Marcus if he died. But still you felt like you’d seen a new side of him, the ruthless Roman general, the man who had led armies to great victories because he was just that ruthless. 

You knew, rationally, that Marcus had killed many men, and had even more men killed. Both enemy soldiers and civilians, but also his own soldiers, as he sent them into battle. It was the nature of his profession. But now he’d done it to get his way, to get you, not as part of a war. He’d saved you, both from a boring marriage when he first turned up, and from Lunaris’ spiteful revenge on you after your infidelity. But your actions, both yours and Marcus’, had led to men dying. Your intense feelings for Marcus, the need you had to be near him, ultimately had cost the lives of your husband, stupid as he was for blackmailing a Roman general. But it had also cost the lives of four guards and three bandits. Eight men dead. All because you and Marcus wanted to be together. 

The thought reeled around your head. Eight new men with Pluto tonight because a Roman general had stumbled into your house on Bona Dea. Was this the will of the gods? Or would you be punished? A shiver ran through you, and Marcus bent down, brushing his lips over your cheek. 

“Vita mea, tell me your thoughts,” he mumbled. 

“I’m…grateful you saved me, and Alba,” you whispered, tilting your head back to meet his dark yes, “But I’m worried we’ve angered the gods through our actions. So many men killed because of you and me.”

“I would never presume to know the will of the gods,” he replied, keeping his voice low, “but I know Mars steers my hand in battle and he hasn’t failed me yet, not even today. But we’ll make sacrifices to the gods when we return to Rome, show them our gratitude for bringing us together and keeping you and Alba safe. I don’t believe Juno would want either of you trapped with that vicious man.” 

He bent his head low and tenderly kissed your lips, his warm hand cupping your cheek, “And I know Bona Dea guided my steps when she first led me to your villa, we will give special thanks to her too. Now sleep, amor, I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Part 4 Tagging some lovely people who showered the first two parts with love: @gothcsz @missladym1981 @txlady37 @timelordfreya @bluesweaters15

@indiegirlunited @jessthebaker @likeficinthewnd @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @inept-the-magnificent

@angiewatson @wintersquirrel @sheepdogchick3 @asobeeee @harriedandharassed @cozylittlepigeon

@i-own-loki @pedrit0-pascalit0

[dreamgrlarchive]

Any diy beauty recipes for the summer?

Summer Beauty at Home 🎀

pretty soft feet scrub and mask ❤︎︎

1/2 cup light roast coffee grounds and 2 tbsp lemon juice

pretty self explanatory. simply mix this combo in a stainless bowl. after cleaning and soaking your feet in mildly hot water till softened, scrub with this mixture up to your calves. focus on your ankles and cuticles!! then let sit for about 5-10 minutes before rinsing (you can cover your feet with plastic wraps)

rinse with warm water and cover feet in your cream or lotion of choice.

i do this all year but the most during the summer since we’re wearing pretty open toed heels and sandals. 🎀

bright and glowing skin cream ❤︎︎

1 cup olive oil, 1 cup softened shea butter and a few drops of whatever essential/fragrance oil you choose

simply whisk or blend ingredients until whipped and soft

store in a mason jar and keep at low-room temperature

this after a long bath and good exfoliation, has my skin so soft and luminescent for over 24 hours 🎀

weightless scalp rinse ❤︎︎

1 tsp of lemon juice, 4 tbsp apple cider vinegar, 1/2 cup of warm water

wash your hair paying close attention to your scalp

rinse well and apply the rinse to your scalp with a nozzle tip bottle

lightly scrub and rub your scalp with the rinse and leave on for about 3-5 minutes and rinse with warm water

be sure to moisturize your your strands and ends with whatever you choose

during the summer my hair gets extremely sweaty, and greasy and after a while a wash just doesn’t break it down well enough. this rinse ALWAYS flushes my scalp out so well 🎀

softening hair mask ❤︎︎

1 banana, olive oil, raw aloe vera gel, jojoba oil, honey

mash together well and coat slightly dampened hair in the mask

leave on for about 15 minutes (i go even longer sometimes)

rinse well with cool water

then wash and condition

my hair is always so soft and bouncy after i do this. i usually do it when getting ready to do a wash and go 🎀

[archonfurina]

I'm really bored this evening so I decided to answer the questions I sent my taglist earlier. (If you want to be tagged in quizzes, picrews, etc, like that post!)

𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭…

01. a character you love. — her secret loneliness really struck a chord with me. she's used to putting on a cheery front & pretending everything is okay, which i can relate to.

02. your favourite food from your culture. — karelian pies originated from the karelia region, which russia took from us. the pastry is made from rye dough and stuffed with rice porridge. they're best served with egg butter, and it's really delicious.

03. what your dream apartment / room / house is like. — a small apartment that's easy to clean, but still has enough living space and is modern and minimalistic. i want a bedroom, a balcony for my cats, and maybe a sauna. i would love to have a couch, but because of my cat's peeing i probably can't.

04. your personal style or aesthetic. — i'm pretty basic most of the time. i wear leggings and a top and a cardigan. sometimes i actually put some effort into my looks and wear a skirt or a dress. in other things my aesthetic changes a lot. i like cutesy style but i'm also into witchcore.

05. a happy memory. — it was either mallorca or cyprus, our hotel had stables close by and me and my sister went riding a couple of times. instead of someone else guiding the horse and walking in a big circle like i expected, we went free riding on a forest trail. it was the first time i ever rode in the nature and it was amazing. the trail wasn't the easiest one, it had several steep climbs, which was also surprising.

06. your favourite way(s) to spend time. — playing video games, making gifs or graphics.

07. story behind your url / title / quote / description / icon. — everything else is self-explanatory (i like furina) but my title 'you're the brightest star in my universe' is something i came up myself. it's about a thai actor i used to like a lot, plan rathavit.

08. something that comforts you or brings you joy. — my otp. furina and neuvillette.

09. what you’re looking forward to. — SUMMER! i've had enough of winter. i want to see the sun every week. i want to go swimming in a lake. i want to wear shorts and sandals. i want to use sunscreen and a big hat. i want to feel the warmth on my skin, and see the beautiful nature blossom.

10. something else that’s important to you. — you reading this.

[pwupsii]

spring wishlist 🌸🎀

spring is just around the corner angels ! warmer weather is coming soon which means it’s officially time for us feminine girls show off our femininity 🎀 pretty dress are in sweatpants are officially out !

these are things i personally want for spring 🎀 but it’s a must for every pretty girl like yourself <3

- polaroid camera to take cute pics of yourself !

- digital camera to record / take pics of yourself & friends to capture da moment !

- ofc pretty dresses ! short or long da choice is up to you !

- pretty sandals / or heels whichever you prefer to go with your dresses !

- MAXI SKIRTS !! are such a must this year & so easy to style n comfy still feeling feminine !

- bows bows bows !! pretty self explanatory 🎀

- light natural makeup to enhance your beauty!

- FLOWER SCENTED PERFUME !! you wanna make sure you smell like a bouquet of flowers 💐

- crochet clothing, nothing screams warm weather than crochet clothes

- cute dainty jewelry bcus we all need more jewelry

- flower hair clip , keeps your hair up while looking cute !

- skirts !! so cute n makes you truly feel feminine n makes you look like a pretty flower 🌸

[total-television-productions-act]

kno doodles :3

pretty self explanatory but i'll do it anyway

doodle of a scene from "style awhile" where odie brings up his sister. i just think the line is funny. leonardo learns about the concept of women

screenshot redraw of the time where odie and leo beat up a bunch of crooks. needs more blood! odie has a MORNINGSTAR! he probably KILLED some of those people!

doodle of my sona bc, like usual, i drew these on call and my friends started talking about miraculous ladybug

casual odie :3 he didn't shave this morning. or put a bra on. he's at home give him a break

casual charlie, kinda. pov, he's just cracked the case

"casual" itchy. i wanted to draw my him but with his show-accurate outfit, which is. his sandals. biggie's not impressed

[shoheiakagi]

Letter D for Bandou, Dewa, and Shouhei on the ask game -bandousama 🔥😩

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Akagi: I already posted one for Shouhei here, but I will share another one! He once had a huge thing for a coworker who was in a relationship. Once he realized that they were having some issues with their partner, he didn't hesitate in being #THAT guy by giving them a shoulder to cry on and spend more time with them outside of the work. It doesn't take that long until he ends up taking them to his apartment after they clock out of their shift for the night. Shouhei wanted something more, but his coworker ended up regretting cheating on their partner and started to avoid him. Not really a dirty secret per se, but definitely not one of his best moments.

Bandou: has a foot fetish and indulges in foot play with his partner. While its not exactly rare for men to have a foot fetish, he’s extremely tight lipped about this and will never let the other guys know about it. He just can’t help it, dammit! When his partner comes back from the nail salon with a freshly new pedicure, he’s all over them, requesting to massage their feet. Like every other guy, he especially loves it when they paint their toe nails white and gets turned on when they show off their freshly painted nails while wearing a sexy pair of open toed sandals or heels. He doesn’t even want to think about how hard he gets when his s/o traces their foot across his chest, or when they keep their heels on during sex 🙃

Dewa: Almost all of the guys laugh about that one time where they were stupid enough to try hooking up with a customer in the bar, only to get busted by Kusanagi. But not Dewa. Dewa didn’t even get caught by Kusanagi. Dewa got caught by Mikoto. It was one of those days where Kusanagi was busy and left Dewa in charge of the bar. Coincidentally, none of the guys were around and he didn’t see Anna or Totsuka around. Now Dewa is not easily swayed by looks, but he couldn’t help but get charmed by this one customer who just came from their 9-5, eager to end their long day with a drink. Its been a while since he last got laid and the bar was pretty empty now, so Dewa decided to be a little spontaneous and loosen up, flirting with the customer who seems to be way above his league. A few drinks later, Dewa finds himself kneeling before the patron behind the counter, their legs over his shoulders. Dewa was so lost in the moment, he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps he hears a drawled out what the fuck? Dewa ends up scrambling when he looks up to meet Mikoto’s sharp gaze, extremely embarrassed that it was his king of all people who had to see him at his worst! He almost wishes that he was caught by Kusanagi instead. What makes it even worst is the lack of reaction from Mikoto. Where Kusanagi would have beaten his ass, Mikoto just gives him a long stare and walks off while telling him to clean up before Kusanagi gets back

Send me a homra boy!

[mallsharks]

Welcome to the Mall!

We're sharks in the mall, a fictive heavy OSDD-1b system. We also go by just sharks or delta for short, and we use they/it/vy/fir pronouns collectively. We also mostly use we/us/ours but use singular terms as well.

We are AuDHD and our special interests are horror, undertale, and science! We are also currently hyperfixated on a few different things, including Stardew Valley, QSMP, marine biology, and some more I cant remember rn lol, feel free to ask us about this stuff in our inbox! We're fine with any asks really as long as it's nothing invasive or weird.

Not a full list, just the most common alters who may post for now. Will update if need be.

🕊️ Hyssop (they/it/he) ;; 17 ;; oc + c!dream @pandoras-hound

☢️ Tubbo (he/they) ;; 18 ;; c!tubbo @gammaraygoat

🛑 Tommy (he/pog) ;; 18 ;; c!tommy

🕯️ Orion (he/him) ;; 18 ;; eburnean!tommy

🖌️ Sandals (she/they/he/neos) ;; 20s ;; ink sans + oc

🦈 Sharkie (they/vy/fir) ;; ageless ;; oc

🍃 George (he/him) ;; 20s ;; c!george

🪙 Foolish (he/they) ;; 20s ;; c!foolish

👑 Chrysaor (he/gold/blade) ;; old ;; c!technoblade

💛 Riot (ze/rot/nya + more) ;; 17 ;; brainmade 

💜 Lavender (any) ;; 20s ;; lust sans

💚 Daffodil (she/they/it) ;; 20s ;; c!dream, canon divergent @wollenheart

💙 Ghostbur (they/them) ;; unknown ;; c!ghostbur

Common Tags

#(emoji) post - Post made by a specific alter, won't always tag

#delta draws - our silly little art tag!

#delta rambles - self explanatory

(Might add more in the future if we want)

 Boundaries

We do not owe you any personal information about the body or any alters, what we share is up to us. 

Don’t start discourse with us, we will block and move on. 

We are not fictional characters, no matter how close to source any of us may be. Do not treat us as such.

We’re all fine with source mates, but please don’t act like we actually know each other if we’ve only just met.

Unless we're close, none of us are fine with flirting at all, especially any comments about the body.

DNI

Under 14 / Over 25 bodily (More lenient on the upper limit)

Proshippers

Fakeclaimers

Anti-MOGAI/xenogenders/neopronouns

purely syscourse/general discourse blogs

Friends with Lush Caves Collective (previously crowned constellations)

[vintagejammers]

Vintage Skechers Jammers: INFO DUMP FOR PROSPECTIVE BUYERS

Jammers were a line of Skechers shoes sold in the late 90's to early 00's. According to a 1999 July press release, the line was "highly successful," and included, "hikers, sandals and shoes with sturdy outsoles." I'm unsure as to the exact date when Jammers were first launched. However, if they were already highly successful in July of 1999, then I theorize they were released earlier that year or in 1998 as, per the same press release, the look of this line was, "futuristic fun and goes along with the talk of the coming millennium and Y2K."

I'm only interested in the hiker style of jammers, so from here on out, that is the style of vintage jammers I'm referring to!

These jammers came in Nile Blue, Raspberry, Brown, Black, Beige/Sand, and White. However, more colors may be out there! I don't have a definitive list! This just comes from the absurd amount of hours I've spent scrolling through eBay and Depop listings.

Now, for shoes that are 25 years old all four pairs I own are still incredibly sturdy! Most shoes today fall apart in two years of use! However, there are some issues any potential buyer should be aware of...

Sizing

NO ONE TALKS ABOUT THIS! I had to learn the hard way that the shoe sizes of Vintage jammers do NOT match modern Skechers shoe sizes. What I mean is, I'm a size 8 in modern jammers, but when I tried a size 8 in vintage jammers - it was way too small! I found that vintage jammers run about 1-1.5 size SMALLER than what the shoe is labeled as... so my vintage jammers size 8 actually fit like a 6.5 - 7 size shoe. But if you ask sellers about this, they seem unaware of the vintage vs modern size mismatch. Whenever I buy Jammers, I always make sure to check the pictures to see that the shoe label states it's a size 9. I wear size 9 with a shoe insert and went for long walks abroad with my brown pair and it was sooooo comfy!!!! No blisters!

Degradation of Faux Leather

I suspect that the tongue and top collar of the hiker and shoe style jammers are made of faux leather. In every pair I've purchased, this portion of the shoe cracked and flaked off and I often see in seller descriptions that it's a known issue. In the past, I've gotten packing tape and stuck it to the faux leather remaining on the shoe. Then, I carefully would peel off the faux leather to reveal gray fabric underneath. This takes a long time to complete, I don't think the results look too bad! I recently purchased the best pair of preserved/restored jammers I've gotten so far and after questioning the eBay seller, I got tips on how to restore my other pairs. I will be posting the results when I have them!

UNCOMMON ISSUES BELOW BUT STILL GOOD TO LOOK OUT FOR THEM

Rusted Eyelets

To be honest, only one of my pairs has this weird crusty stuff on it. I don't know much about it or how to get it off but I don't think it's THAT common of an issue. I do plan on researching how to get it off and what exactly it is... but I can still wear the shoe fine so it appears for now to just be cosmetic.

Missing Eyelets

Pretty much self-explanatory. The eyelets, while in the shoe are sturdy and I've never had an issue with them. However, I bought one pair that came with a missing eyelet. So it's POSSIBLE that this COULD happen. However, I've never witnessed it and the damage might be more on the prior owner than a quality issue.

Shoe Rot

I don't even want to think about this as it haunts me in the dark hours of the night. I've never had a pair that crumbled due to rot, but I know it's always a possibility... I plan to do research on how to specifically prevent it... but ... yeah... let's just pretend this doesn't exist for right now...

[rangileraaste]

Best places to visit in Jaisalmer

Best places to visit in Jaisalmer

An epitome of everything Rajasthani, from every postcard you’ve probably ever seen, the spectacular sandstone royal desert town of Jaisalmer is charming and mysterious all at the same time. Self-explanatory as a ‘golden city’, Jaisalmer’s fort is perched on a yellow sandstone ridge, keeping a watchful eye over the ever-spreading town beyond its walls.

Step into the fort for a vision of mediaeval prosperity that meets the 21st century in the thriving bustling township within. Havelis, Jain temples, curio shops, hotels and restaurants lie beside each other on cobbled narrow alleyways. Take a walk through the streets of old Jaisalmer for glimpses into the lives of locals, cooking or hard at work in skilled craftwork, art and sculpture. There’s something new around every corner here in Jaisalmer, from spicy food to handicrafts, so expect your walk to take longer than the distance warrants as you stop for a much-needed break at one of the rooftop cafes.

Get your taste of the local brew at one of the government-approved ‘bhang’ (hemp) shops outside the fort gates, but be prepared to get in line with a group of locals waiting in line for a glass. Head over to the pristine sand dunes for a camel tour through the barren Thar outside the city. If you’re lucky enough to be travelling in January/February every year, join in the Desert Festival revelry with dancing, folk music, camel racing and the odd turban-tying contest as well.

Walk through Jaisalmer fort

This unique living urban centre, formerly an ancient fort, is home to over 3000 people with shops, people and cows in honeycombed old houses on criss-crossing lanes. Walk past temples and shops and stop for a cup of masala chai on a rooftop restaurant for spectacular panoramic views. Perfectly shaded yellow sandstone walls take you back to a time of battles and reinforcements here.

Sunset in the Thar

The Thar is best explored aboard a 4×4, off over dunes, conquering sand hills one after the other. Get here early enough from Jaisalmer to watch the sun go down on what has to have been a spectacular day.

Lunch with Locals

Get friendly with a local family in Jaisalmer,getting to know more about their traditions and culture, as they give you a quick MasterChef session on Rajasthani food. Dishes could vary, depending on the season you’re visiting, from millet flatbread (bajre ki roti), legumes (fali) and stuffed pepper (mirchibada) to lentil-infused hard wheat rolls (daal baati). Enjoy your very own home-cooked Rajasthani meal with the family and don’t forget to take notes.

Camel Safari

Clamber onto your steed for the evening, a lumbering camel that gives you a literal description of why he’s called the ‘ship of the desert.’ Look out onto mustard fields that border villages on one side and fascinating sand dunes of the Thar on the other. Stop for a snack or two as the sun slowly goes down in the horizon.

When to travel Jaisalmer

The best time to un[travel] Rajasthan would be between September and April. Temperatures are cooler and tend to veer towards the colder side in December and January.

Summer, essentially from April is rather warm and temperatures actually go up as high as 45 degrees C in May and June. The monsoons last through to September and the weather can get rather humid here.

Pack the bag

• Light clothing and sandals with a large sun hat if you’re here in summer

• Warmer clothing and thermals if you’re here in winter

• Mosquito repellent and sunscreen

• Chargers and prescription medication

Top places to stay

• The Serai, Jaisalmer • Gorbandh Palace, Jaisalmer • Rajasthan Desert Safari Camp, Jaisalmer

Conclusion

The heart of Rajasthan the ‘Thar Desert’ also stands as a jewel in the crown of Rajasthan. It is also known as “Golden City”. Tourists are attracted by its sand dunes, landscapes and rich cultural Heritage.

Website:- Rangileraaste.com

[shoe-rankings]

Hello everyone I am here you apply Statsto shoes based on five categories that are on a five heart scale.

Maneuverability: How easy it is to remove the shoe.

Exs: ❤️ Thigh high lace up boots, ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ A Slipper

Hardness: How hard the shoe's material is.

Exs: 🧡 One use slipper from hotel room, 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡 Clogs

Sharpness: How sharp and pointy a shoe is.

Exs: 💚 Sandals, 💚💚💚💚💚 Stiletto

Grip: How easy it is to hold the shoe.

Exs: 💙Thigh high boots, 💙💙💙💙💙 Slippers

Emotional Damage: Self explanatory.

Exs: 💜 One use slipper from hotel room, 💜💜💜💜💜 Your mother's slipper

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - part 5 The End

Plot: Stumbling through a dark town, general Marcus Acacius encounters the festival of Bona Dea. But what at first seems like just a pleasurable way to spend the night leaves a greater impression on him than he counted on.

Series master list

General Marcus Acacius x female reader

Warnings: Explicit smut. No use of y/n, the reader is pretty much a blank slate if you're a Roman noble lady in 2nd century Tuscany?

Word count: 8.4k

A/N: Fifth and final part of Bona Dea (at least until I watch the film next Sunday and start making up new stories....). All happy endings here! Please come tell me your thoughts, yell in my inbox, ask me about all the strange Roman customs I squeezed in here, I'd love to hear from you all!

A few notes on the Latin. I think most of it is pretty self-explanatory but just in case: Caligae - typical Roman sandals Carrisme - dearest or sweetest Sepmer - always Amica mea/Amica meus - "my love" in female and male form Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia - Ubi tu Gaia, ego Gaius - Wherever you are, I will be

The next morning, just after you’d finished breakfast with the family and Alba, one of the servants came in to announce a guest. Your heart caught in your throat when you heard the name. Alba gasped loudly and it made Titus look up at first her and then you, when he saw your shocked faces, he quickly understood something was not right. 

“Who is he?” he asked, rising to his feet as you did the same. 

“My father,” you replied, your hands shaking as you smoothed down your stola, “I didn’t think he’d risk the journey, but it seems I was wrong.” 

“Siro,” Titus called to the servant who had brought the news, “Send word to general Acacius at once, tell him Domina Lunaris’ father is here and he should come at once to meet the father of his bride,” his words were light but the grim tone spoke volumes 

Titus gave you a reassuring look as Siro left the room, “Don’t worry, Marcus will come as quickly as he can and make sure your father does not interfere.” 

“We’ll come with you to meet your father,” Antonia told you, coming to your side with Alba and taking your hand, “You won’t have to face him alone, and Marcus will be here soon.” 

“Thank you both,” you replied, still nervously smoothing down your stola. Alba squeezed your hand and gave you a scared look. 

“He can’t say anything, can he? You’re a widow now, and under the protection of general Acacius.” 

“She’s not just under his protection,” Titus said, “She’s his betrothed, he’s given her a ring and shown Rome that she belongs to him now,” he beckoned you all to follow him, “Come, let’s see what your father has to say and show him that you are not some lost young girl.” 

Your father was seated in the reception room and stood up as Titius walked in through the door, and then you, arm in arm with Antonia. 

“Nerius Vernio,” Titus greeted him, “Welcome to my home.” 

The two men bowed and Titus introduced himself and his wife as your father eyed you. You dropped your eyes to the floor and curtsied low. 

“Father, I didn’t know you were coming to Rome, I hope your journey was uneventful,” you greeted him and he gave you a cursory nod. 

“Daughter, I’ve written and requested for you to return home several times, but my letters have gone unanswered,” he said and then turned to Titus, “Aurelius, I’m grateful you’ve taken in my daughter and her cousin after the bandits attack that took her husband’s life. I’ve arranged for accommodation for us and I’ll take her into my care now.” 

You immediately shook your head but your father ignored you, “Alba, pack up both of your belongings, I have a letica waiting for  us outside.” 

“No, father, I’m not-” you began to protest, but Titus interrupted. 

“Vernio, there is no need for them to leave, we are happy to have them stay and they’ve both become very good friends of my wife. And your daughter has made a very happy connection while in Rome. And-” 

“I’ve heard of this connection, and the upcoming wedding,” your father snapped, his eyes on you and not Titus, “But you are still my daughter and you belong to my family and I will not allow you to marry anyone without my consent.” 

“Father, I’m a widow and can choose my own husband now,” you replied, but he shook his head, interrupting you again. 

“No. You will come back home, we will set Lunaris affairs on order and then I will choose a new husband for you,” Vernio was grabbing at your arm now, ushering Alba at the same time, trying to make you leave, “I will not have you dishonour our family name by running off and remarrying mere days after your husband dies.”

You tried to dig your heels in, and Antonia was reluctant to let go of your arm, “Please, father, I am not going back. I don’t care what tradition says, I’ve found a good man to marry, many times better than Lunaris and I love him.” 

He scoffed in reply, looking at you with contempt, “Love? When did love ever play a part in marriage? You’ll marry who I choose and if the gods will it, you’ll grow to love your new husband as much as you did Lunaris.” 

“I never loved Lunaris,” you cried, pulling to get your arm back now as your father looked close to slapping you in his anger, Titus looked appalled and stepped in to calm the situation. 

“Please, Verio, your daughter is allowed to have a mind of her own, she is no young maid going to her first marriage,” he said, placing a hand on your arm, “Both law and tradition says a widow can choose to marry whom she wants.” 

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity by the door of the reception room and the next thing you knew, Marcus was striding over to you, his face dark with rage. He was dressed in his full armour, the dark leather decorated with the intimidating Medusa, his gladius hanging on his hip. The sight made your father abruptly drop your arm and take several steps back as Marcus reached your side and immediately cupped your cheeks. 

“Amica mea, I came as fast as I could,” he said, looking only at you and not acknowledging your father with as much as a glance. 

“Thank you, amor,” you replied, smiling up at Marcus and taking immense satisfaction in the way your father seemed to be almost cowering from Marcus’ imposing form. It felt like having a fearsome lion as protection, storming in with a roar and making sure everyone knew that you were his to protect. 

“My father has arrived,” you said finally, after Marcus had dropped his hand to your waist and turned to the room with you securely in his arms, “Father, I’m pleased to introduce you to my betrothed, general Marcus Acacius. General, this is my father Fabius Nerius Vernio.” 

“Vernio,” Marcus said, giving your father a short nod. Vernio on his hand seemed to have lost his ability to speak, he only stared at Marcus. 

Marcus continued to look at Vernio with thinly veiled rage, and your father seemed no closer to finding his tongue and the room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. You were delighted seeing your father squirm under Marcus’ sharp eyes and had no intention of easing his uncomfort. Eventually it was Titus, ever the diplomat, who broke the silence. 

“General Acacius is one of Rome’s most celebrated military commanders, and enjoys great favour from the emperors. I’m sure you can understand that your daughter is making a very wise choice in accepting his proposal,” he said, almost imperceptibly and gently ushering your father towards the door of the room. 

“I’m still her father and I can’t allow her to marry some stranger,” he protested weakly, “Lunaris estate must be taken care of.” 

“Oh, so that’s where your concern is!” you exclaimed, only Marcus’ arm around your waist stopped you from stepping closer to your father, Marcus tightened his grip and held you back. “You only want Lunaris’ assets so that you can marry me off to someone with lands next to the olive groves!” 

Next to you, you felt more than heard Marcus’ growl. Your father tried to bring himself under control and took hold of the edge of his toga, nervously adjusting it on his shoulder. Under Marcus’ glare he seemed pitiful. 

“Your daughter will want for nothing when she is my wife,” Marcus said, his tone betraying that he had no patience for this conversation, “If it’s money you want to let her go, then you can have whatever you want. Unlike you, my only aim is to make her happy and I don’t need money for that.” 

He turned to Titus as he took your hand in his, “I’m taking my future wife to the temple to prepare for the ceremony, I trust you to have evacuated your guest when we return, Titus.” 

Titus gave him a smirk, a look exchanged between the two old friends that spoke volumes, “Of course, general Acacius.” 

And with that Marcus led you from the room, stepping between you and your father as you passed by him, you kept your eyes from him, not wishing to see his reaction.

Later, when you reclined next to Marcus in his private reception room, you went over the events in your mind. After Marcus and you had left Titus’ villa he’d taken you to visit the temple of Juno to honour the goddess of love and marriage. On the day of your wedding you’d have a ceremony at the temple of Jupiter, but it felt right to honour Juno and ask her to protect your love for each other after your father’s anger today. 

Afterwards Marcus had asked if you wanted to see his villa, the place you would effectively be taking control of once you were married. So now you sat next to him in his private rooms, picking at the food the servants had brought from the kitchen.

“I think, in reality, he loves the idea of a great Roman general as husband to his daughter,” you told Marcus, thinking of your father, “both he and Lunaris were obsessed with power and you’re certainly more powerful than Lunaris ever was.” 

“He didn’t seem too keen today though,” Marcus replied as he pulled you closer on the seat you were on, “You’d think his daughter was marrying a homeless sewage collector.” 

“I think he was mostly angry that he had no say in it, he hates not being in control,” you said, “but I won’t let him ruin this. I’m marrying you and I’d marry you even if you were a sewage collector.” 

Marcus chuckled at that and playfully pinched your nose between his thumb and forefinger, “But you’d make me bathe every day before I came home? Or would you let me into your bed smelling like the excrements of Rome?” 

He laughed as you giggled and squirmed under his grip, finally letting go and capturing your smiling mouth in a tender kiss. 

“Would you love me even if I smelled like shit, carissime?” he asked with a mischievous grin. 

“Maybe a smidgen less,” you laughed, accepting his insistent kisses along your neck. 

He kept you occupied in that way for some time until it was time for you to return to Titus’ villa. Your lips were swollen and your hair less than smooth as he escorted you through the gates. 

“How are the preparations for the wedding going?” he asked, walking next to you with his hands clasped behind his back, keeping his roaming paws to himself to stop too many rumours to spread amongst the slaves at the villa. 

“We are almost done, the clothes are prepared, Antonia has made the wreaths for our heads, and the jewellery will be delivered tomorrow,” you replied. The big door was opened by an unseen slave and light spilled out onto the courtyard, “Will you come in?” you asked. 

“Yes, I need to discuss something with Titus,” Marcus said, “But I’ll say good night to you now, my love, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”  

“I wish it was our wedding day tomorrow,” you smiled, “I don’t want to wait any longer to be your wife.” 

Marcus smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, “Sleep well, amica mea.” 

Alba woke you up the next morning, insisting on an early visit to the villa’s thermae, dragging your sleepy form along. 

“Antonia and I want to make sure your wedding day is perfect so we’re rehearsing it all today,” she said, “do all the steps so that we have time to make changes.” 

“Sounds sensible,” you yawned, “but why so early and why do we start in the baths?” 

“Because there will be a lot of standing around getting adjusted today so we’re starting with a relaxing bath and massage.” 

You were too tired to question her and both the massage and bath were enough to put you back to sleep, snoring lightly on the marble slab until Alba woke you up again. Antonia then greeted you in the largest reception room, where the servants had just finished setting up a light meal. So while you tried to nibble on sweet dates, you were shrouded in all your wedding finery. A brand new, pure white tunic was pulled over your head and your hair then fiddled with while you yawned again. Alba and Antonia were debating how to best braid your hair while making the customary flammeum, the bridal veil, stay attached. It would be seen as a very bad omen if it fell off. You had to squint to see through the fabric as they finally agreed on how to fasten it. 

You admired the white tunic and the bright yellow veil in the polished brass mirror that was being held up in front of you. You remembered how much you’d hated it on your first wedding day, now you smiled at your reflection as Antonia tied the belt securely around your waist until you realised what she was doing. 

“No, wait, don’t tie that yet. Only Marcus is supposed to untie it and the wedding isn’t for another three days,” you protested, but it was too late, the Hercules knot was securely in place.  

“You’ll just have to stay in your wedding clothes until your wedding night then,” Antonia laughed and you frowned at her, untying the knot was a major part of the ceremony once the newlyweds were alone in their new home. Only when the husband untied the knot and slept with his wife for the first time were they truly married in the eyes of Rome and the gods. 

You were about to protest again as the doors to the room slammed open and Titus rushed in. 

“Protect the bride!” he called in a dramatic voice, throwing his arms up in the air as Marcus stepped in behind him and pushed him aside with a grin. 

“No man will stop me from robbing this woman away from her family and making her mine,” he called, striding over to you with long steps, mischief glinting in his eyes as Alba and Antonia tried to hide the bright smiles. 

“What are you doing?” you laughed, “The wedding isn’t for another three days.” Tradition held that the groom would pretend to steal his bride away from her family, and the bride should act as if she was both sad to be taken from her home, but also excited to begin her new life. But now he was three days early and you were confused when he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him towards the door as Titus pretended to try to stop him from leaving. 

“I’m claiming you as mine, we will go to the temple of Jupiter this very day and let the gods know that you will be my wife from this day on,” Marcus said, keeping the tradition with a stern voice, but you could see the glint in his eyes. He pushed Titus to the side, who made a big show of falling to the floor and Antonia ran over to him, pleading with the gods to stop Marcus. The smile she gave you made you realise she’d been in on it all along and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing out loud. Marcus had taken your hand in his and now he was ushering you along the hall, across the courtyard and into his carriage. He helped you step inside and you managed to wave to Titus and  his family who had followed. Now they were throwing walnuts over your heads as the family’s slaves joined in, shouting well wishings. You suddenly realised, you were getting married today, somehow Marcus and Titus had moved things forward, and now you were on your way to the ceremony. 

Marcus climbed into the carriage and you couldn’t help beaming up at him. He was dressed in white armour adorned with gold details and he was grinning widely at you as he pulled you into his side, laughing as more walnuts rained down over the carriage. 

The procession to the temple of Jupiter was filled with blessings called to you both from the people on the streets, many joining in behind you together with Titus and his family. By the time you arrived in the square before the temple of Jupiter, the crowd was pretty large. The flamen Dialis, the head priest of Jupiter, stood at the top of the stairs, awaiting your arrival together with his wife. 

“You changed all the plans,” you said to Marcus as the carriage made a lap around the square. 

“I talked to Titus and he sent out messengers last night,” he replied, his smile disappearing as he looked at you with serious eyes, “We didn’t want to risk your father trying to disrupt the events. Neither Titus nor I trust him to not try to influence someone to get control over both you and Lunaris’ assets,” he cupped your cheek and let his thumb caress your skin, “And honestly, I was tired of waiting for you to be my wife, we have spent enough days apart, now I want you to be mine.” 

“Then let's pay our respects to Jupiter so that you can take me to our home,” you smiled at him and he smiled back. 

The carriage came to a stop at the foot of the stairs and Marcus tenderly kissed your forehead before he took your hand and helped you step down. The large crowd cheered as you began to climb the stairs, Titus’ family and Alba behind you. At the top of the stairs you stopped in front of the Dialis and he called up Jupiter to make your marriage a long and happy one. Two slaves brought forward a sow and the auspex performed the sacrifice to the god Ceres, reading the entrails of the dead animal as its blood dripped down the stairs. After much humming and mumbling, he finally stood up straight and loudly declared the omens to be good, loud enough for the crowd to hear. A big cheer erupted and you saw Marcus smile from the corner of your eye. He took your hand and turned you so that you were facing him, and the Dialis told you it was time for the groom to look upon his bride. 

Up until now you’d enjoyed the spectacle, it felt like your first real wedding day, not the unhappy day you’d married Lunaris. But now suddenly you felt the weight of the moment, emotions racing to the surface as you looked up at Marcus. He could only see the shadows of your features through the veil, but his smile was warm and tender, his eyes soft, as if he could see through the veil and into your nervously beating heart as you lifted your shaking hands and removed the flammeum.  

“Semper amare,” he whispered, so low that only you could hear it, and his words filled you with calm as you slowly lifted the bright yellow veil from your face. Stillness filled your mind as you met his eyes and you smiled back at him and took a deep breath. 

“Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia,” you said, your voice loud and clear, carrying across the square. 

Marcus reached out and took your hands in his and replied as was the tradition; 

“Ubi tu Gaia, ego Gaius.”

His voice also carried across the square and the crowd cheered as the Dialis cleared his throat and looked pointedly at where Marcus was holding your hands. 

“General, you need to let go of her so that I can initiate the dextratum iunctio,” he said and Marcus chuckled, dropping your hands. 

“I got carried away, apologies.” 

The Dialis took your hand and then Marcus’ and joined them together again. 

“Your hands are joined in the concordia, the mutual bond of affection and marriage. Now offer this bread to Jupiter.” 

He held out a small piece of round bread to Marcus, who let go of your hand. With a grin, he broke the bread over your head, showering you with crumbs before offering you a piece to eat. The bread was dry but you smiled back at him as you chewed and swallowed it down as Marcus did the same. 

The Dialis brought forward a tablet and you both signed the papyrus, marking your names to the contract that would now bind you together in Roman law. The last time it had felt like a death sentence, reluctantly scraping your pen over the surface. Now it felt like you were signing your release papers, setting you free from your father’s influence and becoming a part of Marcus’ family, his name now attached to yours. Marcus moved closer as you placed the pen on the table, his arm over your shoulder, as a sign to the crowd behind you that you were now under his protection.

Together you walked back down the stairs towards the carriage, the crowd had swelled and they cheered as they saw the patrician newlyweds. Again Marcus helped you up into the carriage and then waved at the crowd as his driver turned back up to the Palatine, this time returning to his villa. 

The crowd followed you all the way back, continuing to shout blessings. When you performed the rituals of entering the house the first time as mistress of it, blessings of good omens showered over you. Marcus picked you up, lifting you into his arms with a big smile and carried you not just into the courtyard and house, but all the way into the reception hall, followed by Titus’ and his family and a few of Marcus’ closest officers who had been told at the last minute that the wedding was changing days. 

The feast was a small affair, just as Marcus had promised you. Alba sat across from you at the best table together with Titus and Antonia while their children chatted away at another table. And although the food was excellent, and the wild stories about Marcus from his closest friends made you laugh until your sides ached, you wanted nothing more than for it to end so that you could have Marcus to yourself and perform the final part of the wedding ceremony. 

But there was one detail that made you want to stay a little bit longer. A young man, only a few years older than Alba, caught your eye. He was looking at Alba with admiration as she told him about a weaving technique she’d been taught. For a young man to be so immersed in weaving could only mean one thing, and you carefully nudged Marcus to look in the man’s direction. He gave a low chuckle when he saw the way the boy seemed to hang on to Alba’s every word. 

“Octavian Livius Catius,” he whispered close to your ear, “A junior in my army and Titus’ mentee. He comes from a fairly low birth but he has a good career in front of him, Alba could do much worse if she wishes to marry.” 

“Is he a good man?” you asked, keeping your voice low as you tried to glance at the two of them without being seen. 

“He is, Titus says he has good morals and a stable head, he’s fostering him to become a strategist too. And of course, since we’ve been away for two years, he’s well past the age most boys marry, I’m sure he’s looking for a future wife.” 

“Only if Alba wants him,” you replied immediately, “She’s in my care and I won’t let her be married off without her consent.”

“I would expect nothing less, domina,” Marcus mumbled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Now, I think we have been polite enough to our guests, let’s leave.” 

Taking your hand, he stood and pulled you to your feet as the small group of guests grew quiet. 

“I’m now fortunate enough to call this incredible woman ‘my wife’, he said, addressing the room, “And it is time for our final ceremony and to honour the gods, to thank them for bringing us together and letting us have this happy day.” 

He smiled down at you as he continued to speak, “Never could I have imagined that a chance meeting on a dark street would lead me to such a happy end. I’m still not convinced you’re not Venus stepped down among us mortals.” 

You squeezed his hand and brought it to your lips for a kiss as you felt heat rise in your cheeks at his praise. 

“Please, enjoy each other’s company, the wine, the food, have a glorious evening,” Marcus told the guests and then turned to you again, “Come, wife,” he smiled at the word, “let me untie the knot.” 

Titus raised his glass and cheered, and the others joined in as Alba got to her feet and gave you a big hug, wrapping her arms tight around you. 

“I’m so happy for you both,” she said and kissed your cheek. 

“Thank you, my darling Alba,” you replied, “and his name is Octavian and Marcus says he’s a good man,” you added with a whisper in her ear, smiling as you pulled away and looked at her. Her cheeks went red as she giggled. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she grinned and gave you a little push, “Now go with your husband and tell me everything tomorrow.” 

Behind you, you heard Marcus chuckle at Alba’s comment, and his hand took a firmer hold of yours. “I agree with your cousin, come now, carissime, I have waited long enough.”  

He wrapped his arms around you as he guided you through the villa, towards one of the few rooms you had yet to see in what was now your new home; his private bedroom. It sat on the second floor and as the short December day was nearing the end, the sun glowed golden outside the windows. One of the servants had lit the oil lamps in the room and they filled it with a warm light, illuminating the warm colours of mosaics that decorated the walls. Thick rugs covered the floor and the bed was draped in soft looking blankets and pillows to warm against the cold night outside. 

Marcus closed the door behind the two of you and let out a deep breath that made you turn towards him. 

“Why such a deep sigh?” you asked and he gave you a small smile as he took your hand again and led you to the bed and sat down. 

“It’s a relief to close the door, to finally have you to myself, as my wife,” he said, “I didn’t realise until yesterday how much I’d feared that something would hinder our wedding. But when your father turned up…” Marcus sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face, “I knew I had to act fast, I hope you didn’t mind the surprise this morning.” 

You smiled at him and cupped his cheeks with both your hands, smoothing out his worried frown, “Not at all, if anything I’m delighted I didn’t have to wait another three days. Now, untie this knot and prove your virility,” you teased, “Antonia made it very tight so I hope you’re up for the task.” 

Marcus laughed and took your hand, making you lie down in the middle of the bed as he sat next to you. 

“I’d say you already know my virility is just fine enough,” he said, his smile turning more mischievous as he let his eyes roam over your body. The look in his eyes made your skin tingle and you sighed when he finally put his hands on you properly and caressed your curves. He toyed with the belt, tugging at it to pull you closer as he leaned forward. 

“Marcus….” you said, your voice a low whine when he pressed his lips to your cheek instead of your lips, his hands still not touching the knot.

“Patience, domina,” he hummed, pulling away and getting to his feet, his eyes darker now. 

With slow, practised movements he unwound the long toga from around his body, laying it on the seat next to the bed, loosening his belt and caligae next. When he pulled the tunic over his head, you held your breath, it had been so long since you last saw him fully naked and standing tall in front of you. He was just as glorious as the first time, his strong body littered with scars, his posture proud and powerful like the statues of Mars in the temple. 

He smirked at the way your hungry eyes drifted across his body, from his wide shoulders, over his chest and down to where his heavy cock was rapidly growing. When he put his knee on the bed and crawled over your body, your insides squirmed and his grin widened. He knew the effect he was having on you and he planned on taking it slow on this first time as a married couple. 

“Domina…” he all but purred, lowering himself onto his forearms and caging you underneath him. You were still fully clothed and writhing with impatience as he dipped his mouth to your neck, his tongue slipping out to taste the sensitive skin under your ear, a wet kiss following. 

“Marcus…” you pleaded again as he moved further down your body, his hands caressing and kneading as his teeth nipped through the thin fabric of your stola. 

“Patience is a virtue, mi amor,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice against your breasts. 

Your breath was coming in short huffs, and you struggled to stay still, as he reached the knot in your belt. He was kissing your body around the knot, through the fabric, his hands stroking your thighs, reaching up under the stola and grabbing at your hips. His body was nestled between your legs but still he wasn’t touching you where you needed him the most, and with an impatient whine, you arched yourself up against him, seeking any friction. 

Marcus growled, and grabbed both your hips, pinning you down with his weight, “Patience…” he smirked.

He began to mouth at the ornate knot in your belt, keeping you where he wanted you with a strong grip. The edge of the stola was pressed into your core by his firm chest and you could feel how you’d soaked through your undergarments already. With a moan you reached down and grabbed at Marcus’ bare shoulders, urging him to move faster even though you knew he was intent on taking it at his own slow pace tonight. 

When you glanced down to see him stretched out between your legs, you were met by the sight of the strong planes of his back working as he held you down, his teeth grabbing the knot and pulling it loose. With a wicked grin he flashed you a look, before he began to work the stola up over your hips, the belt falling loose to the sides.

He pushed up to his knees and pulled the stola with him, finally freeing you of it as it slipped over your head. With an impatient wave you tossed it over the side of the bed and reached up for Marcus again, willing him to kiss you and sink his hard cock into you, you could feel the heated drag of it over your thigh. But he ignored your hands, instead he grabbed your thighs and spread them, sinking down with his eyes fixed on your centre.

“Carissime, I’ve missed this sight,” he hummed, slowly dragging a finger through your slick folds, reaching the aching pearl at the top and circling it as he looked up at you. Your eyebrows were drawn together, your mouth open and panting. It made his cock twitch to see you so laid out for him, and with all the time in the world to pull you apart and make you cry his name in pleasure. 

Your warm thigh rested on his shoulder as he leaned in closer, brushing his nose over your soft curls and tasting the salty liquid. A shuddering breath left your lungs as you seemed to melt into the bed at the sensation, and Marcus licked a wide stripe up your centre, making you gasp again. 

His fingers spread you open, making more room for his tongue, and methodically he began to explore your cunt in earnest, taking the time he hadn’t had on the night of Bona Dea. Every sound you made, your whimpered pleas and moaned cries of his name, it made him try even harder, his own arousal aching and pressed against the bed. Your hands found his hair and he groaned when you pulled him closer, burying his face in your cunt, driving his tongue in as deep as he could while you made his nose rub against the swollen nub at the apex of your sex. 

“Marcus…please….” you panted, your skin flushed and hot as you felt yourself begin to crest the wave he was building up. 

“Carissime, you taste so good,” he mumbled into your flesh, moving his tongue up to lap at your most sensitive part, “so sweet and delicate, my wife’s perfect cunt.” 

With a deep breath he began to suck at the puffy button, his fingers digging into your thighs and pushing them wide, burying his face between your legs with a growl. 

His mouth seemed to be making red hot flames shoot out through your body, your hands tightening their grip on his curls as shockwaves rocked through your limbs. Crying out, you threw your head back, his name the only word you could muster and each lick and suck from Marcus brought fresh moans of pleasure from you until your throat felt raw and dry. He was working you into hysteria where all that existed was his mouth and the way he made your body sing. 

You pulled tight like a bow string and with a strangled cry of his name, you snapped, sobbing as Marcus continued to lick and suck at your cunt, clenching around nothing. Your body was begging for him to fill you up as the orgasm coursed through you, but your mind couldn’t find the words, there were only stars streaming across your field of vision as your body shook and trembled under his tongue. 

Panting hard you finally fell back against the bed, your taught body relaxing in Marcus grip and he gave your folds a few soft kisses before he pulled back. With a low chuckle, he nuzzled your thigh, trailing sticky kisses across the hot skin as he made his way up to lie next to you. 

“My sweet wife…are you still with me? Do you think you’re wet enough to take my cock now?” he smiled as he pressed kisses to your cheek and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Your body felt like liquid and Marcus chuckled again as you smiled back up at him with half closed eyes, unable to form a coherent response yet.  

“It seems I did a proper job as husband,” he said, letting you pull him closer, “Are you satisfied, wife?” 

“No, husband,” you replied, seeking his mouth out for a slow kiss, “You did good, but I know how good it feels to have you fill me up, and now nothing else will do.” 

Marcus smiled and caressed your cheek as he moved to cage you under his wide shoulders again, your arms around his neck. 

“I want to take you slowly, feel every part of it,” he said in a low voice as you spread your legs to make room for him, the weight of his cock pressed against your core, “feel your kisses when I fuck you deep into our bed, feel every tremble in your body as I fill you up again and again, keep you here underneath me until we forget everything except this.” 

He rolled his hips, the fat tip of his cock catching against your opening, making you both hiss. 

“Nothing exists except you, Marcus,” you whispered, cupping his face between your palms as he moved again. The head of his cock breached your tight hole and you could feel his jaws clench under your hands, a tight breath escaping him. 

“You feel so good, Marcus, amica meus,” you mumbled, caressing his soft beard, tracing your thumb over his plush lips. The feel of him slowly pushing inside made your core clench, your hips trying to rise up to meet him, but his heavy weight kept you pinned underneath him, your legs locked around his waist. With a groan he squeezed his eyes shut and drove himself in to the hilt, the liquid heat of your tight cunt closing around him. 

“Gods, domina…” he panted, “keep me in your bed and let me fuck you, let me always feel this tight cunt around my cock, it’s all I ask, and I’ll be the happiest man in the world…” he rambled. “So tight and wet and hot, my sweet wife’s cunt has me on my knees until it milks me dry…” 

He slid out and drove himself in again with a loud groan, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he buried his face against your neck, “Goddess…” he moaned and you felt his mouth suck at your skin as he rocked himself into you, his cock filling you up and making you gasp every time he sheathed himself fully.  

Your hands grabbed at his back, his golden skin warm and damp to the touch as you dug your fingers into his tightly wound muscles. Over you he was unravelling, mumbling into your neck between kisses and bites, his control slipping as he continued to fuck you, lost in his own haze of lust. He came up for a deep breath of air and leaned his forehead against yours, his dark brown eyes locked on yours as his hips continued to thrust his hard cock into you, your breaths mingling as you both gasped at each impact. 

“Amica mea, I love you, my wife, I can’t believe you're finally my wife,” he mumbled, his hands gripping your shoulders and pulling you down on to him again and again. 

“I love you too. My husband,” you whispered between gasps, “amica meus, semper.” 

Marcus pressed his mouth to yours, his tongue slipping between your lips as he picked up his pace, and you squeezed your legs tight around his waist. The coarse hairs around his cock were rubbing against your swollen pearl, each slide making sparks ignite and shoot out all the way to your fingertips, even your toes were curling at the impact of his cock deep inside your weeping cunt. 

The pace grew frantic, Marcus groaned loudly, pressing his mouth against yours as his body began to tremble, he was gasping, slamming his cock into you, chasing his release as you cried out underneath him. He was hitting a new spot deep inside, new stars appeared in your field of vision but you tried to keep your eyes open and watch your husband as he began to come undone. His eyebrows pulled tight, his hips stuttering into yours, he dug his fingers almost painfully hard into your shoulders as he grimaced and cried out. With a loud shout he slammed into your cunt a final time, grinding deep inside as your own climax hit again. He rolled his hips over yours, milking himself and pushing you through each wave of pleasure as it washed over your bodies. 

He was heavy on top as he finally relaxed, his body hot and sticky with your arms and legs wrapped around him. He could feel your hands begin caress him, slowly bringing him back from the haze that had taken over his mind as he finally let go and fucked you as hard as he needed too. The heavy thumping of his heart echoed in his ears and he knew he should move, but you didn’t seem to mind his body pushing you into the mattress. So instead he turned his head and leaned his cheek against your chest, his softening cock slipping out, making him hiss. He felt you press a kiss to the top of his head, his hair damp, and your fingers raked carefully across his scalp. 

“You make me happy, Marcus,” you mumbled against his soft curls, “so happy.” 

He sighed against your warm skin, a long, content exhale, “Then I’m happy too, carissime.” 

With another sigh he pushed himself up on his forearms, smiling down at you underneath him. His hair was a halo of dark curls, his eyes soft and warm, and you cupped his cheeks and pulled him down for another kiss. Your lips felt swollen and tender but you still moaned with satisfaction when he licked into your mouth and deepened the kiss. It took several long moments before you both were satiated again and he carefully rolled off you and got out of the bed.  

“Let me clean us both off, I’m too tired to go to the thermae now,” he said, going over to the wash basin and picking up one of the washcloths. 

Your body felt loose and almost as if in a liquid state as he began to gently wipe the cool cloth over your skin. You hummed and smiled at him as he paid extra attention to the white liquid slowly dripping from between your legs. 

“Proud of your work, husband?” you teased him and he chuckled, running the cloth between your legs again and making sure to apply just a little bit too much pressure to your most sensitive area. You hissed and arched against his hand. 

“If I was a younger man, the sight would make me hard enough to do it again,” he replied, grabbing at your hips to make you spread your legs for him, “such a perfect cunt…”

He smiled at you and began to wipe himself down, running the cloth over his soft cock as you admired the sight. 

“Next time, I want to do that,” you said, watching as he pulled back the skin to clean himself. 

“Next time, I want your mouth around it,” he replied, and the look that he gave you, made heat shot through you again. 

Marcus grinned and tossed the washcloth to the side and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over you both this time. His body was warm and firm as he made space for you, his arms pulling you into his chest. 

“We have all the time in the world now, carissime,” he said, his lips close to yours as you looked up at him, “And I intended to make good on my promise to keep you in my bed night and day.” 

“I only have one more thing that’s going to make me leave this bed,” you said, smiling at his confused look and pressing your lips to his when he opened them to ask. 

“Later,” you mumbled, “now I want more kisses from my husband.” 

Marcus chuckled and you could feel the rumble in his chest, “Anything for you, wife.” 

The people going about their daily business outside the great structure of Circus Maximus may have stopped and looked an extra time as the patrician carriage drew to a halt outside the wall of the nearby temple. The general who stepped out was dressed in his formal armour, the white and gold shimmering under the bright sky. The woman he helped down with a gentle hold on her hand, was dressed in a similarly rich stola, the veil loosely wrapped around her head but leaving her face bare. 

“Here we are, carissime,” Marcus said, putting his arm around your waist and leading you to the entrance of the temple, “I’ll be waiting outside, let Bona Dea know I’m forever her servant too and that I apologise for delaying our visit to her temple for a full two weeks.” 

“I will, my love,” you smiled at him, “And I’m sure she understands that newlyweds have trouble leaving the house. I only wish you could be allowed inside the temple too.” 

“The rules of Bona Dea must be obeyed,” he laughed, “I learnt that in the best way possible.” 

You laughed with him and gave him a quick peck on his smiling lips, before leaving him behind and entering the temple grounds. 

Alba followed close behind as the vestal virgin returned your bows, and then led you up the stairs and into the sacred rooms. In the package you carried were cakes and breads you’d made yourself that very morning, using the best ingredients that could be found in the market. Alba carried an amphora of olive oil, and one of wine, the finest Marcus had in his storage, and as you reached the great altar, you both placed your offerings on the ground. 

The priestesses began the rituals and you gazed up at the marble statue standing tall behind the altar. The cornucopia in her left arm was overflowing, a symbol of her generosity, and in her right was a bowl, a snake feeding from it, a sign of her healing powers. The goddess had certainly been both generous and healing when dealing with you and Marcus, and it was time to repay her and honour her influence. 

“I thought I was trapped in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life,” you said, looking up at Bona Dea, “No children to distract me, just a vile man who blamed me for my barren womb, and made me question why I should even wake up each morning. But you brought Marcus into my life and steered his actions, making it possible for us to be together as husband and wife. And for this, both him and I will forever be your most humble servants.” 

The priestess tossed the bread and the cakes into the sacrificial flames, making it hiss and spit as Bona Dea accepted your gifts. 

“And I have one final prayer for you, Bona Dea,” you said, kneeling down as Alba looked on in surprise. 

The cool marble of the floor was smooth under your forehead as you prostrated yourself fully at the feet of the goddess. You closed your eyes and sent up a silent prayer, the smoke of the sacrifice in your nose, the silence of the temple heavy in your ears. The gods had never spoken to you, but as you sent up your plea to the one who seemed to have seen you at your most miserable, and sent a saviour, a calm came over you, a sense of completion. 

You took a few deep breaths, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill, and then sat up onto your heels. 

“Thank you.” 

The sunlight was still sharp as you left the temple, and you pulled up your veil to shield your eyes. Marcus was standing next to the carriage with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture straight. You had come to recognise this as his ‘public persona’, the powerful general who expected everyone to obey him. In private, he softened whenever you were near, and became the Marcus you loved more with every minute that passed.

“Carissime,” he smiled as you and Alba came out from the temple gates, “all done?” 

“Yes, husband, the goddess accepted our sacrifice and the priestesses seemed most pleased with the generous contribution.” 

You took his hand and held him back as Alba stepped into the carriage. 

“Bona Dea has given us another gift,” you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows in question as he leaned closer to you. 

“Another gift?” he asked and you brought his hand to the front of your stola, his eyes widening. 

“I always thought I was barren, but now someone grows inside me thanks to her healing powers.”

Marcus stepped closer, his arms going around your waist as he pressed his palm across your belly as if he could already feel the heartbeat of the child within. 

“Truly?” he whispered, his wide eyes filled with hope. 

“I’ve missed my courses twice since our first night, it’s still early days, but yes, truly,” you smiled up at him. 

“Carissime…” he whispered again, bringing his hands up to cup your face, pressing his lips to yours, “I thought I couldn’t be happier but now I feel like my heart will explode.” 

He pulled back a little, you could feel tears spilling over and rolling onto your cheeks, and he wiped at them with his thumbs. 

“Are you happy, amica mea?” 

“Yes, Marcus, you make me very happy,” you smiled through your tears, “And it makes me even happier to have a new family with you.”

“A new family,” he hummed, pressing kisses to your face and lips, “a new family with my beautiful wife and our beautiful child.” 

He smiled and kissed you again before taking your hand, “Now let me take you home and spoil you rotten while you care for our child, she already holds my heart in her tiny hands.” 

“‘She’?” you asked curiously, and Marcus laughed, a bright smile lighting his eyes. 

“I’m certain Bona Dea will give me a daughter as beautiful and strong as her mother, so that I can live the rest of my life worshipping two incredible women,” he replied, still smiling, “That will be my lot in life, my heart held captive by the two of you.” 

“You are the most wonderful husband and you will make the most wonderful father, Marcus,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes again as Marcus smiled and wiped your cheeks. 

“My sweet wife, carissime,” he said, placing his palm on your belly again, his touch gentle and warm as if he was already cradling his daughter, “I would give up every title the emperors have bestowed on me only to keep two.” 

He kissed your left cheek and then the right, his soft lips brushing gently over your tears. 

“Your husband, and her father.” 

Tagging some lovely people who showered the first four parts with love: @gothcsz @missladym1981 @txlady37 @timelordfreya @bluesweaters15

@indiegirlunited @jessthebaker @likeficinthewnd @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @inept-the-magnificent

@angiewatson @wintersquirrel @sheepdogchick3 @asobeeee @harriedandharassed @cozylittlepigeon

@i-own-loki @pedrit0-pascalit0 @lady-bess

[graphitesatellite]

hcs on what greek god/mythology character are the main 6?(ex:achilles,icarus,the fates,zeus,aphrodite)

ohhhhh dear requester how you spoil me -w-

buckle up kids cuz I have So Many Opinions

Asra

Hecate and Selene popped into my head immediately, being goddesses of magic/witchcraft and the moon, respectively. Hecate also has strong ties with the spiritual world and death and the moon (and necromancy oh-la-la), which seems to give her the most in common with Asra, but it doesn’t go much deeper than that.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Hypnos, sleep incarnate, as a candidate, if only because I’ve been comparing the two in my head ever since I started playing Hades, but once again it really doesn’t go that deep.

You could also make a case for Astraeus, titan god of the stars, father of the traveling stars and the four winds.

But my official pick is gonna have to be Hermes, messenger of the gods, patron of travelers, roads, and astrology, notorious trickster, and the only Olympian capable of crossing the border between the living and the dead. Hermes, like Asra, was a precocious child, but his easy charm and resourcefulness made him very likeable. He’s commonly portrayed as an athletic, beardless youth, and one of his main symbols besides his winged sandals is the caduceus, a staff entwined by two snakes that’s able to wake one up or put them to sleep. Seems like a perfect fit to me.

Nadia

Okay we’re all thinking it so let’s just get it out of the way: Nadia is Athena. Association with owls, wisdom, strategy, handcrafts, creator of the olive branch (the OG peace offering), dispenser of the best advice, universally revered and feared — she is Athena. The only thing that doesn’t track is Athena is a maiden goddess and Nadia absolutely fucks.

So in that way we can compare her to Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty who also fucks. And Hera probably deserves a mention as the queen of Olympus.

For fun we can compare her to Artemis, the great huntress, or Themis, the prophetic titan goddess of divine order. If I had to pick anyone other than Athena, I would have to go with Themis. She checks the most boxes.

But yeah we all know it’s Athena.

Julian

Asclepius is the god of medicine, used to be a mortal doctor, so that’s pretty self-explanatory. And while he does have strong associations with snakes (nudge nudge) and bringing people back/coming back from the dead, I’m not entirely convinced he’s the best candidate. Where’s the Stress? The Drama?

Dionysus is a plausible choice seeing as he was also brought back to life after a violent death. Not to mention the drinking habit and the giant group of fanatic female devotees (I’m looking at you, The Fandom.) And honestly, Dionysus is pretty selfless for a god, having not only rescued his mother from the underworld but also the princess Ariadne (who he later married) from the island where Theseus abandoned her. I mostly hesitate because as the god of wine, he’s also associated with rage and violence, which are not things I can really see for Julian. He’s not a mad lad, he’s a sad lad.

He and Prometheus do share qualities of rebelliousness and self-sacrifice, but imo this one falls apart as soon as you realize Prometheus is the titan god of forethought. You could also try to link him to Apollo, father of Asclepius, another god of medicine, through his association with crows, but the story of Coronis doesn’t match up well with Julian either.

His time during the plague, especially around when Lucio died, makes me think of Daedalus, the master craftsman who built the labyrinth and was imprisoned in a tower by King Minos (it’s not important why). They both did manage to escape their situations and go on the run. It’s either Daedalus or Asclepius for Julian, hard for me to choose just one for him.

Muriel

I think of Muriel, I think of Atlas, mainly due to the tremendous burden they both carry. I think of Hephaestus and his somewhat self-imposed isolation (if I were him I wouldn’t wanna hang out with the Olympus fam either). I even think of Hades, bound to the underworld by shitty luck. But none of those quiet hit the target.

Artemis is a little bit closer, if only because of her connection to animals and nature. Pan might work if he wasn’t so jovial. This is a toughie, not a lot of Greek figures isolate themselves the way Muriel does, nor do they harbor so much guilt and self-hatred.

So the Minotaur is the next logical step I think. This is based less on the actual mythology and more on my interpretation of Asterius' story. Like Muriel, he was treated as if he was more beast than man, and he was eventually trapped in a bloody arena where his sole purpose was to kill.

Yeah I’d have to go with either an even more shredded Artemis or Asterius. You could make a good argument for Hephaestus but I personally prefer the other two.

Portia

My first thought for Portia is Atalanta, y’know the girl who was literally raised by bears. I feel like they have a similar feral energy, very fierce, very powerful, very determined. Unfortunately Atalanta is like, the only female Greek hero. I’ll include Artemis too, she and Atalanta were into a lot of the same stuff.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is Hestia, goddess of the hearth, feast, and sacrificial fire. I honestly think Hestia is too static of a character to properly represent Portia, but there is something to be said about her associations with fire, home, and food. There’s a facet of Portia that is very domestic, but it’s just a part of her overall personality. (And once again, maiden goddess, but Portia definitely fucks.)

Similarly, you could compare her to Hebe, the goddess of youth and cupbearer to the gods, but really only on the grounds that she’s one of the younger LIs, and that she’s spent time as a servant.

After some more digging around it’s pretty clear that Atalanta is my favorite option, I’m gonna have to go with her.

Lucio

The most obvious choice is Pan, I’m sure we can all agree on that. Literal party animal, literal goat man. Dionysus is also up there, but he’s really too good of a guy for Lucio, which is kind of nuts to say. You know you suck when a Greek god has the moral high ground over you. I feel like there are more and better options to explore.

For instance, Poseidon! A temperamental dick who does whatever he wants because he’s usually too dangerous for anyone to stop him. Literally all Poseidon does is hold grudges and cause violence for attention. Sounds a lot like someone we know, huh?

Then there’s Epimetheus, titan god of afterthought, father of excuses. One of the most mocked Greek figures, and for good reason. He’s the embodiment of a fool, not to be confused with The Fool. A fool as in an idiot. Like Lucio.

Zeus is also worth considering, because like Lucio, even though he’s in charge, he’s just the worst, literally the worst. Unfaithful, belligerent, narcissistic. Oh, Narcissus would also work now that I think about it. Let’s say it’s either Narcissus, or maybe Pan after all, since Pan is one of the only gods who’s ever been “declared” dead.

[calumsash]

are we still sleepover-ing? if so, what are your favourite luke outfits 👀

hell yeah we are! the sleepover never ends!

this was surprisingly easy for me? i have very specific 3 top looks that immediately came to mind and that i loved on luke so i knew exactly what to choose! let's begin!

in third place we got this absolute underrated look right here! im pretty sure we only got two pictures and there wasn't much talk about it which is a shame!! but the combo of the red (silk?) shirt over the sweater + blue pants is really nice <3

in second place it's every outfit that involves the smiley jacket :) it elevates it to another level of softness! plus im a big fan of the sandals so this was a no brainer!

in first place the one and only the wwj blue suit! i don't think i need to give a long explanation because this is self explanatory, he straight up looks good <3

honourable mentions: these two halloween fits!

sleepover time!

[sassycordy]

welcome to part two of me pretending to know about fashion ahah. usual disclaimer! this is just my own personal opinion on how i would dress rodney today, if you don’t agree with me that’s perfectly fine! also if it helps to imagine things better, i like the picture the team wearing these outfits around the age of 25 ahah.

ok so! to the left, we have his day to day outfits. if i had to pick a word i associate his every day looks with it would be “soft boy that doesn’t look as put together” ahha. the giant blue hoodie is self explanatory (he’s such a stereotypical nerd lmfao) and I think blue is his Best color (it matches his eyes <3). next up are the bottoms, and I personally don’t think any of the men on Stargate Atlantis would wear skinny jeans lol so i put rodney in a more wide length jeans cut! we have another outfit with the classic blue jeans (imagine them as baggy but stylish) + i added some beige (and a lot of other browns to his look) because its a color he wears a lot in the show and i think it suits him! now i had to add a stripped shirt and a nerdy shirt because c’mon its rodney lol. weirdly his shoes were the most difficult part of this collage lol. on one hand, i think rodney would try to wear sandals/berks because he’s lazy and doesn’t care much about his appearance but i also believe rodney wouldn’t be the guy to have his toes out (he’d find it so unprofessional LMFAO) so I went with the safe choice and gave him some white sneakers cause dammit rodney im giving you a brighter palette.

up next we have his vacation outfit and honestly again, this entire look is self explanatory. elizabeth definitely made him that t-shirt so ppl on the base would leave him alone on his days off ahah. i also gave him some of that classic rodney charm with khaki cargo shorts! and last but definitely not least, the dreaded pair of socks and sandals. unfortunately, in my heart …. i know he would wear this combination. (I was gonna say I can fix him but lets be honest, if john can’t do it I cant do it lol).

his formal wear was another easy one to nail as I think the show actually did rly well in this area (shocking I know)! he would love the classic black tux but i also think he would throw in a bow tie to spice his look up ahah. although he would stick to a black bow tie because of course he can’t go Too crazy. and for his more casual business attire, i went with a brown sweater vest! rodney is basically a 500 year old man stuck in young body aha so I think he would love the “grandpa” aesthetic (do we know anything about rodney’s grandparents bc idk i just get a vibe rodney might’ve been close to them).

accessories time! we have a black belt because again rodney = grandpa and i think he would wear belts. (don’t really have a reason, i just get the vibes). and lastly we have this simple black bracelet. rodney is definitely against accessories (too flashy for him) so i think this really simple bracelet (handmade by teyla) would be the only thing he would wear. and I think he would only wear it on special occasions like for his beach vacation ahah (its too dangerous to wear in the lab bc something could get on it and he’d have to ask teyla to make him another one).

andddd that’s it! honestly this one was pretty self explanatory and all things considered, i think the wardrobe department on atlantis did a great job with rodney! this series is all about modernizing the outfits, color palettes, and bringing more of their personality into their clothes (which definitely comes through for this one lol). i had so much fun putting these looks together! be on the look out for miss elizabeth weir.

[meiusoo-twistedtwst]

[Twisted Wonderland Theory] The NRC Students Uniform Shoes

(Images are snipped from the official website)

Dress shoes: Riddle, Deuce, Trey, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim (I think they are like dress shoes in a way), Malleus, Silver, and Sebek

The people who wear dress shoes seem to hide something. For Kalim, we still don't know about that promise he made with Jamil. For Riddle, it seems that he's keeping the fact that he's still watching over Ace a secret. The others I think are more self explanatory.

Tennis shoes: Ace, Cater, Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia

The people who wear tennis shoes are fun and somewhat carefree. For Jamil, he seems quite happy when it comes to anything involving dance. For Idia, he says that he used to be so innocent.

Sandals: Leona

Leona is lazy, but does have a brain and uses it. Kind of like sandals in a way, sandals have a simple style, yet are very useful and pretty durable depending on what brand or specific style you buy/make.

Heels: Vil, Ortho (I guess), and Lilia

The people who wear heels are, I guess, dramatic, and somewhat strict. I say Lilia is strict at times, such as during training time. He also seems more strict when he's annoyed, shown in his lab coat personal story when those Savanaclaw guys said that he only relies on Malleus.

Boots: Epel and Rook

Seem weak (look, I'm sure some people thought everyone in Pomefiore was physically weak), but actually stronger than people think.

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This might be slightly inaccurate...