#this is not an attack on anyone or a declaration of side

[stealingpotatoes]

POTES FINISHES KOTOR!

i planned on going to bed early tonight but the kotor brainworms made me finish the game and WHAT A GAME MAN!!! anyway sessions 10-12:

the t in ten stands for traumatised

i love how i was like omg i hope i find revan and theyre my best friend! but the second i found out i was revan i was screaming and running away like NOPE NO GET OUT OF HERE

just want it to be noted that in the hours between playing this morning and now ive repeatedly caught myself just staring into space w blank expression its all ive thought abt all day like what has this game DONE to me

i literally had to make a revan playlist earlier lmao i havent even finished the game

also i searched revan on my blog and turns out last year i got an ask where i discovered revan was a customisable protagonist and yet i still walked into this spoiler free, meaning i managed to outrun spoilers via stupidity or having a horrible memory or both. im the ultimate anti-spoiler machine

tbh it didnt help that i thought revan was a bloke for at least the first like, 6 hours

you know one of my first ideas when i first started the game was "this character is going to die and then i will play as revan" and after the first mission i was like "well surely there must be a segment where you play as revan where did i get the idea that you play as revan from" the mental gymnastics i did around the truth are impressive this game gaslit me SO hard

i know its been like 8 hours since i experienced it but if anyone calls me revan again i will start crying anyway lets find carth's son and get this star map

i still cant think of revan as myself it feels like shes some dead sister i never met that's not me i cant compute it

i get why one of the options earlier was "oh i understand bastila" but i did not pick that bc SERIOUSLY WHAT THE HELL THEY DID USE ME!!! LIKE!

anyway time to have one of my first times playing a party without b-dog ): ill get u back babygirl (hold out for me plz dont get darksided) ill bring murderbot or the child soldier for now

ah i love carth and mission arguing. carth has no people skills

im sorry we've had a spice shipment onboard this whole time??? i wouldve liked to have known that some hours ago substance abuse would definitely help my identity issues

aw carth n mission made up! [lie/persuade] i agree she's not just a kid we should tooootally have her in active combat situations

this sith academy is crazy wdym ppl r out here starving and dying to get in

i love that i said my companions were slaves

wtf theres only one bed. okay mission you can have the bed me and carth can sleep on the floor

onasi i recognise that sur-- DUSTIL?? SHIT CARTH ONASI OH MY GOD I FORGOR

well that went about as well as bastila's family reunion. it's okay tho cause the parental issue solver is on the case carth i will have this shit fixed asap

these tombs suck

i love that my party members have stopped following me this is useful and great i love having to manually move them everywhere 10/10 gaming

im avoiding the dark side options so hard rn idc if i'll get less prestige i CANNOT risk going evil IM NOT REVAN

ive had so many options to be like "well get fucked im darth revan" but i dont want to get laughed at or anything so im just gonna stay quiet

also i still havent accepted it and i think saying i was revan might make my character find the panic attack dialogue option

ok we got kidnapped and electrocuted by a kiddie fiddler and that seemed to fix the companions not following me problem

slay i just stole the master's ipad and that solved dusty's daddy issues. literally i could have fixed the original trilogy im so good at parental issues if i was born 4000 years later there wouldve been no star wars movies it'd be chill

sw fix-it au: revan is just There

aww theyre bonding <3 <3 <3 <3

yay i did enough stuff to enter the tomb <3 cool i'll do that later

hilarious that mr sith master was like ok fine i will declare u the victor when everyone else who applied is either dead or left the building

ELEVEN ALSO RHYMES WITH REVAN AND i'm still not over it man

god gives his toughest battles (my friend was having boyfriend problems) to his bravest soldiers (me who wanted to start playing kotor again immediately after dinner but had to be a good friend and help her)

anyway back to REAL problems. let's go get this starmap

i dislike seeing malak on the opening screen now. he literally tried to blow me up and he may have killed or kidnapped bastila i dont wanna see that bitch

can we use our force bond to like. message bastila and check she's ok bc im taking everything this game said as foreshadowing and she talked a LOT about how no jedi is immune to the dark side you know. can we make malak hasnt reverse-revan'd her

looked up a walkthrough for that pillar business cause its late and while i know it would feel satisfying to get it right, i can't be assed

pillar isn't a word anymore

oh i kinda thought if i sided w yuthara i'd be able to talk her into going lightside but wompwomp

oh yay a talk!

ok she left i got lightside points thats close enough

lets get out of here before anyone starts questioning why i came back alone from the tomb

omg lena from mission's brother's girlfriend… and shes not a bitch???? oh my god griff was the bitch lena sounds so nice lets go to tatooine

im realising ive probably missed out on a lot of sidequests by only taking b-dog and carth out for missions but uhhh

i understand that it's very important that we save the galaxy by finding this star forge but you know what i love more than saving the galaxy? drama. we're going to find mission's brother

MALAK WAS THE ORIGINAL MEATBAG

man the evil stuff sounds bad but come on revan-me had a good sense of humour. meatbag (:

fuck me sideways with a toothbrush we've got to go do walking simulator in the sand dunes again to find mission's brother

this game really makes you understand luke skywalker bc i too would be desperate to leave this planet if i spent more than a week here

oh my god so youre saying if i just walked around the full tusken base then i wouldve found mission's brother. this is what i get for not exploring every nook and cranny

im not giving griff shit. u just know in the modern day he'd have a podcast and constantly share those entrepreneur tips on instagram, thinking he was an alpha male when he has $2 and no bitches

my textures arent loading in this is so funny everything is yellow and white

ok heres the plan its very late i should be in bed but this is probably the final mission so im gonna get ready for bed and then come back to this and we're gonna pretend i make healthy life choices and that i'm not addicted to this game

session 12! yep!

and it's been so long it's definitely the morning now so theres a whole new session it's definitely not only been 10 minutes since the last bullet point and im definitely not gonna play this all night

i make healthy life decisions lets find this star forge babygirls

NOO GET AWAY FROM MY FRIEND BASTILA YOU EGGFUCKER GET AWAY

i hope the star forge has a bin i can toss malak into

christ on a bike thats a lot of ships

this secret star forge planet is lovelyyyyy. vacation planet

btw my save file is called 'tanalorr is mine' and this planet is… well its making me feel validated for calling it that

why do these ppl keep attacking me im just a chill guy

of course theres an energy shield. theres always some kind of energy shield

are u being fr? mandalorians?? get a job u guys.

omg the fish guys know im revan????

omg YOU CAN LEARN LANGUAGES W THE FORCE?? INCREDIBLE

well presumably i missed the nonlethal option to get the scout back cause i am killing this entire base rn

omg who cares im maxed out light side i have lightbeams behind me in the character menu

every time someone talks abt me n malak goin somewhere when we were besties makes me sad. like i get i was revan and evil then but still we were besties ): now we're enemies ):

great. the bad guys are gonna be inside waiting for me. this is so uncharted-core

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MALAK’s FACE HOW IS HE ALIVE THATS SO MUCH JAW GONE

is that--?? bastila queen why r u wearing black

NOO HER ASS GOT TRILLA'D!!

ok i think that convo went ok i got lightside points im gonna get her back

well aside from bastila and the murder of an entire village i think that went very well lets go sodomise a star forge

i really have got to stop using the english language in the way i do. we're gonna defeat the star forge how about that. thats better

MASTER TORTIMER SURVIVED

YAY MY GIZKA ARE BACK ONBOARD!!!!!!!!!

bringing HK cause i want him to call malak a meatbag again

love that malak's like the droids will defeat the jedi when i literally have the destroy droid ability. get fucked eggbitch

these fights are just getting annoying now where are these guys even coming from

you know what? i dont wanna fight these twats im just gonna walk away and head to where i wanna go without fighting

tf why cant i open

its rlly funny that im revans master when he called bastila a child and its implied we’re a similar age

B-DOG!! COME TO THE LIGHT

FAT W I REDEEMED BASTILA

wow we have to get off this space station before our allies blow it up, meanwhile i have to fight a bald guy with breathing problems who was responsible for a crazy reveal in the second act. deja vu…

the bastila boss fight was easy-as so i assume the malak one is gonna fucking suck

i worked out how to stop him turning the jedi into sundried tomatoes

malak is so much taller than me lmao

bit sad i didnt get to have hk call malak a meatbag again and also what happened to his face we never covered that

YEAHH WOOOOOOOOO

ooh an honour guard… a hero’s welcome

YAYYYYY MEDAL CEREMONY CLASSIC STAR WARS

taking screenshots of the gang together like a parent with their kids

IM GRINNING SO HARD RN

I DID IT I FINISHED THE GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT A GOOD GAME GODDAMN. GAME OF THE YEAR IDC IF IT CAME OUT 22 YEARS AGO oh my god me n this game r basically the same age wtf

and i did it in true potes-star-wars-games fashion bc its way past midnight as it was when i finished jfo and js <3

ANYWAY HOLY SHIT!! WHAT A GAME!!!!! that plot im going completely and utterly insane over that plot i see why revan is such an aggressive fan favourite its not a time of day (night) that i can come up w coherent thoughts but wow. wow!

definitely want to replay as a dark sider at some point (and maybe mod the shit out of the game too)

thankfully ive already bought the sequel (and been informed of the restored content thing) so thats ready to go whenever im ready to give up my entire life for a kotor addiction again! yippee!

what a good story. gameplay was fairly fun despite its often-awfulness until the ending where it got a bit tedious and i felt like a diabetic with how much i was injecting myself in the leg but like! THE STORY!!!! THE CHARACTERS!!! EBON HAWK CREW MY BESTEST FRIENDS

man!

well. im not gonna shut up abt this for a while am i. look all im saying is i should probably drop a weather warning on u all cause the kotor fandom is not ready for the fanart tidal wave known as stealingpotatoes that about to hit them. batten down your fuckin hatches

KOTOR MY BEAUTIFUL BEST FRIEND MY WIFE I LOVE YOU MWAH GOOD NIGHT MY SWEET PRINCE

also to u, gentle reader, thank u for joining me on this journey <3 i hope u had as much fun as i did lmao

POTES SEMI-LIVEBLOGS KOTOR!

ive been writing my thoughts in the notes app but due to popular demand (one person asked for it) i'm posting my liveblogging DO NOT SAY/TAG/COMMENT SPOILERS PLEASE i read tags

warning im a yapper, im 10 hours in and theres a lot already (separated into sessions):

SESSION 1

whos this clown i thought i would be playing as revan

ive been too spoiled by dragon age origins this character creator sucks ass

only human???? ): fr?? ill just imagine her different in my brain or some shit

my life is being mansplained to me. is this bad writing or do i have amnesiacs

hes meta now??? hes talking abt the screen controls?????

omg a jedi and an evil jediii

omg their asses suckedddd they both died immediately

i <3 bringing a sword to a gun fight

WHY R THERE SO MANY SITH WHERE IS TJE RULE OF TWO

i clicked a workbench and it said lightsaber so either i get a lightsaber or i get a jedi friend whose lightsaber i can steal if im careful

I assume u play as revan in kotor2 so im gonna buy that now so i can play it when im done playing w this clown

i got light side points im getting a good grade in game morality which is something both normal to want and possible to achieve

everyone keeps saying revan is dead but thats my friend revan from tumblr hes clearly alive. or they???

my characters ass is distractingly present onscreen

huge fan of the way everyone collapsed drunk what the FUCK was in that wine

ok these sith ppl might be the bad guys but their armour is DRIPPY AS FUCK

ideologically i dont agree w the sith but they kinda went off w the fits

googling how to become a sith without being evil cause they have Drip

SESSION 2

i paid £1.19 to see revan he better show up in this game at some point

all these sith n i still cant find one revan….. stop faking ur death rn come out n talk to me babygirl this isnt like u….

why can i be light/dark side if im not a jedi. give me a laser sword

maybe this jedi gyal will know where revan is faking his death. or give me a fuckin lightsaber PLEASEEE

was just thinking 'does this game have romance' and then carth called me beautiful. i dont think im gonna romance anyone until i get this amnesia sorted

why is carth questioning me so much abt the crash im pretty sure i have amnesia

why tf did the jedi lady have me transferred to this ship are we in lesbians with each other???

carth's not wrong it is suspicious but i lowkey have amnesia so i coulda done that i coulda not

a lot of clone wars voice actors in this. was lucasfilm so broke in the 2000s that they could only afford the same 3 VAs for every project

mission is 14??????? we need to get my girl back in school

SESH 3

tale as old as time i fucking suck at racing games

ok i didnt realise you had to mash click i won

REVAN!!! REVAN!!!!!!!!!

why am i dreaming abt revan tho. real as hell but ?????

lmao cringe revan getting blown up. i thought the jedi beat rev-meister in a fight but no. accident

"such visions are often a sign of force sensitivity" COOL YAY GIVE ME A LIGHTSABER

BASTILLE LOST HER FUCKING LIGHTSABER??

CARTH IS RIGHT THATS LIKE DAY ONE JEDI SHIT. ok i still love her even tho shes a bit of a bitch and also doesnt have a saber

if we find a lightsaber im taking it first tho

whys carth getting weird abt me being weird that he doesnt trust me. i just wanna be friends mate

SESH IV: A NEW HOPE

'i mean no disrespect, but perhaps one of the male slaves could serve you better' i went in here to start a slave revolution and instead got called a lesbo

LMAO THERES A SPICE LAB???? WALTER WHITE WHERE ARE YOU

thats insaneee they blew up BILLIONS of people to get to one jedi?????? these sith arent fucking around theyre scary

UM THIS IS CRAZY GRAPHICS THE LIGHTING IS CLEARER/DARKER WHEN I COVER THE SUN W THE SHIP EDGE?? 2003 IS THE YEAR OF THE FUTURE

someone just called me padawan i kinda assumed i was in my late 20s do i just have baby vibes

all the jedi in the movies are so chill but every kotor jedi i've met so far has been a bit of a bitch

YO THEY HAVE A YODA!!! its not THE yoda but

cool so these guys are just the regional managers at best. your asses are not the council

why can everyone smell my force juju so strong

THATS STRAIGHT UP YODA'S CLONE WARS VA

why does fake yoda not blink both eyes at the same time. im calling him master tortimer he reminds me of the animal crossing mayor

bastila there was no need for such a fancy bow

malak is like evil aang

revan is so much shorter than malak omg

are me and bastila sharing dreams. are we both obsessed w revan

poor mission ):

WHAT WAS MASTER TORTIMER ABT TO SAY????????? EVER SINCE WHEN??? DID WE KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE MY AMNESIACS????? DID BASTILA TELL U SMTHN MORE WHEN I WASNT IN THE ROOM???

im intrigued i like this whole hidden jedi shtick its very compelling. so is whatever theyre hiding from me

kinda surprising no jedi found me before tho given my force juju is so strong

IM A LEGIT JEDI NOW??? SICK!!!

does revan rlly not have pronouns i thought that was a tumblr thing but they straight up are a nonbinary icon ive never heard a single pronoun used. revan's pronouns are revan/revan's

damn revan seems so cool in these stories (charismatic war hero that convinced their troops to join them as conqueror?? julius caesar) and yet all we've seen them do onscreen is get blown up and die by accident

A YEAR AGO? the way they were talking i assumed revan died like. a week before the game started

master uh i forgot his name he has martin scorcese vibes said revan was a paragon of the jedi so what im getting is that all jedi gifted kids turn evil

even if i didnt know revan as a tumblr darling id KNOW revan has to be alive somewhere they way everyone talks abt them is too cool for a character who exploded and died. i think. i hope. I PAID £1.19 TO MEET REVAN

'only you and bastila can stop malak' seriously????? just us two?? ive been a jedi for like, 6 minutes and you guys keep calling bastila young???? do you guys not wanna help??

omg im getting carth to traumadump! <3

HE WAS ON REVAN'S ARMY>??

i totally knew the jedi code and did not have to google it whatsoever

they rlly said fuck going to illum heres a crystal from the bin

he told me id be a great sentinel and i was like i know but i want blue cause i dont wanna be matchies with bastila

OGH!!! I HAVE A LIGHTSABER!!!! THIS IS GAME OF THE YEAR!!!!

omg i made my lightsaber perfectlyyy which is rare <3 getting a good grade in jedi

maybe i was a travelling lightsaber salesman before my amnesia

seriously though WHO was i everyone's kinda stopped acting like i have amnesia since the first mission BUT IVE PLAYED DRAGON AGE THAT GIVES YOU OPPORTUNITIES TO RP UR PAST. THIS DOESNT. EITHER THIS GAME IS BAD (but i love it so its not) OR I HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA

also everyone keeps being like "Oh ur force juju is so strong" AND NOBODY FOUND ME TIL NOW??? suspicious. did getting a really bad concussion activate the force in me

im too confused and amnesiac'd to think abt anything except the fact i have a glowing stick now

FSESH FIVE:

big fan of using aliens to avoid having to get VAs to read every line

oh so carth's boyfriend saul betrayed him and became leader of the sith fleet so he has trust issues

well he needs to calm down. i can't betray him cause i dont know what the fuck is happening

yooo i love the design differences on the mandalorians

oh my god this lady wanted to fuck her droid cause it was her husband's. and then it killed itself. wtf. game of the year tho

wtf they jebaited this juhani person into going dark side but then i talked her out of it. that seems a bit mean of them

i hope she can join my party she looks too unique to be a random npc

ive been thinking and I might be going crazy but there was a loading screen tip ages ago that said jedis could wipe ppl's mind and all i thought at the time was 'fuck the shitshow acolyte didnt make that up'. but what if one of them wiped MY memory and i used to be a jedi or smthn ????????

cause they keep being like ur weirdly good at this??? did bastila steal my memories??????????

I KNOW I HAVE AMNESIA!! EVEN IF EVERYONE DOESN'T BRING IT UP BC THEYRE PROBABLY TRYING TO SAVE MY FEELINGS

if i dont have amnesia and im just deeping the fact the opening had my life being mansplained then im gonna look real stupid

anyway time 2 go to the fuckshit ruins cave where r-dog and malak went to

"it must be referring to revan. the dark lord and malak--" revan's pronouns are revan/thedarklord

bastila said theres no mention of the Builders in the archives. does she just know every text off by heart

THIS DROID IS 20K YEARS OLD ???

omg i can equip 2 lightsabers at once. game of the year

OK I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT THE AMNESIA BASTILA IS ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY BACKGROUND THAT I CAN ANSWER. I REPEAT I DO NOT HAVE AMNESIA

ok i didnt get choices and i didnt really uh… say anything that i didnt already get told im still not ruling out amnesia

also booo i didnt get to find out how old i was

master tortimer rlly looks like the ultimate ketamine yoda

LMAO THERE WAS A DIALOGUE OPTION 2 CALL JUHANI A CATGIRL

omg kashyyk from jedi fallen order!!!

I CAN UPGRADE MY LIGHTSABER THIS IS JUST LIKE JFO

omg this ship is fun i wish everyone had personalised bunk spaces like hfw… a game which came out 19 years after this i should probably just take what we have

im gonna start w manaan cause im p sure thats what B-dog said n its the same language the droid was speakin

omg hyperspace from star wars

THE GUY THE BUILDING FELL ON???

am i having dreams abt revan bc bastila killed revan and im connected to her this is so roundabout

maybe i'd sleep better if my ponytail wasnt clipping into the pillow

[kiwi accent] six

carth needs a xanax every time i think we're friends he stops trusting me

also lmao he actually pointed out how wild it was that a day one padawan is being sent on this uber important mission and HES RIGHT IT IS WEIRD!! i thought it was main character logic but he's calling it out

i really really like the sense of unease that's setting in like at first i thought it was just cause im not used to 2003 games but no this is on purpose bc carth my friend carth keeps calling it out

THERE IS A CHILD ON MY SHIP ??????????????????

lmao the representative for menaan is roland wann. its like poetry it rhymes

there are no cameras in the sith hangar <3 rookie error i can commit crimes now

bastila's favourite hobby is getting shot and walking into my grenades

this isnt a combat system this is a missing system

I GOT ARRESTED???? IM JUST A GIRL

nvm i had a datapad that said the sith were evil so theyve let me go free and we're besties

why do i feel like ive just walked into an underwater horror mission

this suit waddles at the speed of a penguin on fentanyl

i tamed the beastie this is like how to train your dragon

MALAK FIRED ON REVAN?????? WERENT THEY BEST FRIENDS???????

but maybe revan escaped when bastila wasnt looking THEYRE FINE THEYRE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. I BELIEVE

so hopefully when we run into revan they'll be like agh i changed my ways cause of the being shot thing and they'll be my bestie

great news i successfully communicated w the ship child and gave her back to dantooine. my girl has shockingly good linguisitics skills

bastila is so dour "oh watch out for the dark side" GIRL I AM. I NEED TO GET THE BEST GRADE IN GAME MORALITY

ok OFF TO KASHYYK i hope cal kestis is there… thru the force i guess… bc he wont be born for another 4000 years but its whatever

omg you'll never guess what. another vision. wow its one of the thangs. cool this is a tomorrow me problem

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 10.1

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 10th snippet, part 1. The alliance moves their forces to the city and manages to gain entry. Celebrimbor finds himself confronted with a problem he did not anticipate.

So, this is the (pre-)ultimate chapter of this multi-part adventure of mine. Fear not, I am planning on writing a little epilogue as I am uploading part 10. I still can’t believe I’ve come so far. Thank you guys again for your continued support, your comments, your reblogs and likes, your messages. It means so very much. Also, an additional thank you to @plotdesigner for giving me some pointers for this snippet and cheering me on! That being said, enjoy the (almost) final leg of this journey! <3

Celebrimbor had to admit, he had feared getting into Eregion to be a far more difficult, far bloodier endeavour than it ended up being.

Then again, the combined armies that had marched on Ost-In-Edhil must have looked quite impressive from the city itself – the riders from Lindon were at the front, flanking the High King as well as Elrond, Galadriel, Celebrimbor and Adar. After them came what appeared to be an endless sea of uruk warriors, hundreds if not thousands of them, following close behind.

From what Celebrimbor could see of the city guards, they were all decidedly shaken, mouths hanging open in obvious shock as they shouted warnings amongst themselves, but none of them dared to sound a direct attack.

No archers sent deadly arrows their way. No stones were thrown from the city walls as the elven-uruk troops came close.

The alliance reached the gates without encountering any resistance.

What followed was an exchange between the poor head of the city watch, Gil-Galad and Adar, with the guard’s voice audibly shaking as he tried to deny entry to both the High King of the Elves and his entourage as well as the Lord Father of the uruk with his giant army.

"Lord Annatar has expressly forbidden us from opening the gates – to anyone!" he declared.

Gil-Galad huffed and squared his back, regal as Celebrimbor had ever seen him. "Lord Annatar is not who he claims to be. And even if he were indeed an emissary of the valar, he has no right to forbid me from gaining entry to this city. Open the gates!"

"He has told me that you would believe Lord Celebrimbor, who has abandoned Eregion to conspire with the orcs," a growl from Adar, "in a fit of madness; I reassure you, my king, Lord Annatar has no ill intentions, he has merely been framed. And fears for the safety of the people of Eregion, hence our orders to keep the gates shut."

A pause, during which Celebrimbor could hear both Adar and Galadriel curse under their breaths. He himself had clenced his hands at his sides, quietly fuming at how brazenly their common enemy was yet twisting the truth, how he still kept Ost-In-Edhil under his spell.

The smith only hoped the three elven rings might begin to ease this foul sorcery; Narya, the last of the three, had been brought to Adar’s camp just this morning by none other than Círdan. While worried, the shipwright held a deep conviction that those rings would turn the tide against Sauron and his influence – just as Adar did.

Elrond, who had given Nenya back to Galadriel just after Celebrimbor’s outburst, now held Narya. As Círdan had claimed, Elrond’s skeptical outlook towards these rings made him the most qualified to wear one into battle. The herald, as torn as he had appeared at the suggestion, had ultimately accepted it and now wore the trinket on the middle finger of his right hand.

Celebrimbor felt the subtle touch of another arm against his own, just the pressure of one limb against another. As he looked to the side, he found the face of his husband turned towards him; the smith released his clenched fists at the other’s look, and tried to relax. While Adar tried to keep the look on his face neutral in front of their opposition, it was a reassurance to have his attention.

The elf risked a small smile of thanks and, when that seemed to satisfy the uruk, they turned back towards the head of Eregion’s city watch.

"I have talked to Celebrimbor," Gil-Galad answered, and his voice was beginning to take on a more impatient tone. "He is neither mad nor has he framed anyone. He’s fled this city because he discovered that your Lord Annatar is, in fact, not a giver of gifts but an enemy of all things in middle earth, and I believe his words."

"He is Sauron!" Celebrimbor couldn’t help but add, and stared at directly at the head of the watch, who likely hadn’t recognized him until then. They were all wearing helmets and armor, safe for Adar, who – despite urging from Celebrimbor and the other elves – had refused a helmet. To say that this circumstance was keeping the smith on edge would be putting it mildly.

"Tirithion," Celebrimbor pleaded – he knew this elf, who came from a line of guardsmen and whose forebears had served the house of Feanor. "I know not what he has told you and the others about me, before or after I fled the city, but you do know me – I would never abandon Eregion willingly, not unless I was forced to do so. In your heart, you know this, I am sure of it."

Tirithion looked unsure, now, as he looked at Celebrimbor. He faltered. "M...my lord- I-" He made one last, valiant effort to stand his ground. "That is impossible. He cannot be-"

"Listen to yourself," and this time, it was Adar who had spoken up. Celebrimbor sucked in a breath, and turned towards his husband. The other looked as impatient, nay, angry as Gil-Galad had sounded earlier. "You are arguing with your own lord despite your better judgement. Let me tell you this, too, because I would have had no reason to believe baseless lies – the one in your midst is your enemy, and he is in fact the one who has lied to all of you."

"Your lord speaks the truth. He only wishes to save and protect you. Do not try and turn him away now."

"Open the gates," this was Gil-Galad again. "We will not ask again. I do not wish to besiege my own people, but I also won’t leave Ost-In-Edhil under the enemy’s control one moment longer. It is up to you, now, guard – to decide whether or not there will be bloodshed."

Again, Tirithion hesitated. It was, at last, Adar’s words which began to break his resistance. "Take a look around. The High King of Lindon stands before your city, with his army ready to fight for him. And I have brought mine as well – you cannot possibly hope to resist the force of both. Do not risk your people for some lies."

The guard narrowed his eyes at Adar. "And who are you, then, to so brazenly demand entry, orc?"

The smirk on Adar’s face was audible in his voice. "My name is Adar, Lord Father of the uruk. And I am in an alliance with your High King, for the purpose of driving Sauron from of your city," A pause. "And since he has fled your city, I have become the husband of your Lord Celebrimbor. Therefore, I demand entry not just to his city – but mine."

The guard seemed to finally deflate under the intense scrutiny. "Times must indeed be dire, if the elves and the orcs are willing to attack this city together," the smith heard one of the other guards mutter.

And then, "My lord," the guard was addressing Celebrimbor. "Are you certain that is what you wish? For us to open our doors to a hoard of-"

"Uruk," Celebrimbor interjected before the Tirithion could finish his sentence. He nodded empathically. "Yes, I am certain that I want you to open these gates for my friends and my husband. Please, Tirithion."

A moment of silence, a heavy sigh, and then, "You heard our lord. Open the gates!"

Relief flooded Celebrimbor for a brief moment, even as it was mixed with dread.

The feeling ended up tipping into confusion instead when, as the gates opened and he made to walk into his city, he found an arm blocking his way. When the elf turned to Adar, there was a look of determination on the uruk’s face.

Which was how Celebrimbor came to find out that his friends and his husband had decided that he would not join them in their fight against Sauron. Without consulting him.

"Don’t be absurd!" Celebrimbor wasn’t often indignant, but this certainly felt like the right time for it. "Of course I will."

"No," Adar said. He’d fully turned to Celebrimbor, who stood in a circle of his friends, looking at each of them incredulously. "It is too much of a risk. You are not a fighter. The only outcome for you would be for you to get caught, or worse."

"If he gets his hands on you," Galadriel argued, touching the smith’s shoulder, "Then all of middle earth will be lost. We cannot let that happen."

"This is my city," Celebrimbor seethed. "I have just as much of a right to see this through as any of you. Maybe I am not the commander of the northern armies, but I can wield a sword or a bow just fine. I want to- I need to help."

Gil-Galad spoke up next. "This is not up for discussion."

As Celebrimbor sought out Elrond in the hopes of finding an ally in him at least, the herald squared his jaw and turned his face to the ground. It was clear he wasn’t of the same mind as the others, at least not exactly. But he also wouldn’t argue with his king. "I am sorry, my friend. Their reasoning is sound. You’d be of more use to us behind the frontlines."

When the smith tried to argue once again, he suddenly felt another hand on his shoulder. As he turned back around, Adar was looking at him imploringly. "We need someone to stay behind in case we fail. Someone who can lead both the elves and the uruk to safety, or into an attack, should the rings and the sword not be enough."

Celebrimbor drew a shuddering breath. "That is nonsense. I am not a tactician-"

"I trust you," the smith blinked at those words, momentarily struck mute as Adar stepped closer towards him and grabbed his other shoulder as well. "Unlike any other. Enough that I will place the safety of my children in your hands, for I know you have come to care for them enough to safely guide them away if the worst should come to pass."

It was a sobering confession, and one that threatened to undo the elf’s resistance to the shared decision of the others.

But he feared for them, and he had promised himself especially after whatever had passed between himself and Adar the day before, that he would see to it that none of them perished in this battle. Especially not his husband.

Not before he could- not before he found the words that had failed him the day before.

However, the smith knew further arguing would not help him in that regard. Gil-Galad would forbid him, and his own city guards, his friends and his husband would likely watch him be escorted back to the relative safety of the uruk camp.

He could see Glûg and Gurlak as he peered over Adar’s shoulder. The two were exchanging dubious glances. Glûg, especially, seemed to shoot daggers at the back of his Lord Father’s head with his eyes.

It gave the smith an idea. Daring, yes, but he’d managed to slink his way out of the custody of his own guards before. He’d defied the Deceiver himself, and escaped. He could do it again.

The smith lowered his gaze, struggled with himself – and then affected a slump to his shoulders and a deep sigh, before he looked up again with what he hoped was a convincingly contrite expression. He stared at Adar from beneath his lashes as he said. "I...you are right. I’m sorry."

The other’s expression was too skeptical for his liking, so he laid it on a bit thicker. "You are all right. I am no fighter. I only...I wish I could come with you, to help protect and aid you in your fight. But if you need me to stand down and watch from afar, to make sure our troops can withdraw if worst comes to worst-"

He shuddered as the thought sent a wave of terror through him. He had to fight to get out his next words. "Then I will do that, and I support you this way."

It took a moment, but finally, Adar nodded at him. He squeezed Celebrimbor’s shoulders, and then let one of his hands sink to the elf’s elbow, where he did the same. "I know. You are already helping us – this sword and these rings, they are your doing. Your protection. They are the reason we will win this fight."

Celebrimbor had to bite his lip and nod to hold back his retort, but managed to hide it behind a facade of concern and resignation. "Just promise me you will be careful – all of you. That you will return."

As he looked around himself, they all nodded at his request, but none spoke the promise aloud. It was damning to witness, and again, the smith had to fight to keep his tongue in check.

"Go now," Adar said, and gently pushed the elf in the direction of the forest. "Gurlak! Assemble a group and take Celebrimbor back to the camp."

Then he turned towards her, too. "Listen to his orders. Make sure the others do as well. If anything happens to me- he is my husband. My army is his. He will take care of you and lead you to safety."

Gurlak’s face was completely expressionless, but Celebrimbor guessed that she was as unhappy as he himself felt. "Yes, Lord Father," she simply replied. "Let us hope it won’t be neccessary for him to lead us; no offense intended." The last part was said towards the smith.

"None taken," Celebrimbor answered. He let Adar and Gurlak have their goodbye, and turned to his friends to see them off as well.

"I’m sorry," Elrond whispered to him as they hugged.

"I know."

Finally, the group went to make their way into the city, accompanied by a large group of elves and uruk who were streaming into the city to ensure none of the citizens would interfere in the proceedings. Adar was the last of them, and he turned back to look at Celebrimbor. The elf himself was just getting ready to be walked back to camp.

"Take care," Adar asked him.

"Live," Celebrimbor replied. And then, because he couldn’t help himself. "Come back to me."

Adar seemed to falter for a moment. His face was going through several emotions, too quickly for Celebrimbor to name them, but ultimately caught himself and just said, "I will try."

The elf smiled, sadly, and nodded. It was perhaps the best he could ask for in this moment. Turning his back on the other and asking Gurlak to take him back to the camp felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done, and Celebrimbor felt Adar’s eyes on his back even as the smith and his uruk guardians finally began trudging towards the woods they’d come from.

If a tear slipped Celebrimbor’s eye, and he rubbed it away as he determinedly squared his shoulders, no one but him and Gurlak would have to know.

"Gurlak," he quietly asked her as they walked. She thew him a quizzical look.

"Could we take a slight detour through the forest over there?" He subtly pointed his chin, in case anyone was still watching them.

Her resulting expression was one of confusion, but she nodded. "Sure. Why?"

"Because I got an idea," he willed his face to convey what he did not dare to speak in words, at least not while they were so close to the city still, where someone might overhear.

Judging by her intrigued look, and the raising of her eyebrows, he had managed. "Well. You usually have good ideas," she replied. The smirk that grew on her face was mischievous. "Let’s see where this one takes us."

Despite the circumstances, Celebrimbor felt a small smile steal onto his face in response. He nodded back at the uruk, and allowed for hope to grow in his chest once more.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I don't think a lot of people realize that purity culture often leads directly to racism IRL.

You think explicit graphic violent fics should be censored from AO3? Okay, understandable. But by that logic -

Do you think explicit graphic rap music should be banned from the radio?

Do you think Black people who listen to violent rap music are inherently more violent?

And that the art form is a reflection of them and their behaviors?

Do you think Black people who don't listen to rap music are more stable and deserving of trust than black people who do?

The same way you think people who don't read a certain type of fanfiction are more stable and deserving of trust?

How far does it go?

I listen to rap music that talks about guns, dealing drugs, killing, and gangs.

All my life I've been told that listening to that either 1) reflects a 'true nature' of hidden internal violence or 2) graphic rap music is actively hurting me and should not be played around children.

I grew up with FOX news telling us that rap music should be banned. For being too graphic, too violent, too vulgar.

There are places in the world were black music is restricted and censored for it's vulgarity - drill rappers have been under police surveillance in the past, given court orders that monitor the production and release of their music.

Is that okay? Is that right?

Should this form of black expression not exist? Does it reflect badly on the people who listen to it? Should it be censored, from radios and apps - or even outlawed?

Someone reads and writes graphic, violent, vulgar fanfiction - and you judge them.

I listen to graphic, violent, vulgar rap music - so does everyone else in my neighborhood.

What do you think of us?

Purity culture has been weapon against marginalized communities since the dawn of time.

This isn't a declaration of side, or a show of support on anything. This is not an attack.

This is an invitation and an opportunity for you to reflect on how your views translate to the world IRL.

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

ah yes, she's concerned about the aggressor and attacker who was invading them six months ago. something is wrong with the empire right now, poor edelgard; whatever could've happened to her? :(

like... what. why do you care about what's going on with her specifically when she's the person who made the decision to invade leicester? does the whole war just mean nothing to marianne? it's just totally fine that all those people died in a war edelgard started? poor edelgard, something happened to her after she started her attack? you're concerned about the leader who gave the order to attack your home?

hopes has stupid lines but this one is top tier of the top tier and just an excuse for more edelgardjerking from the writers.

[okwonyo]

（ 标题 ） KINDA HOPE THEY CATCH US.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡​⠀you and your colleague share a heated moment.

( 엔하이픈 성훈 ) ୨୧ f .. r 1OOO. fluff secret relationship ── flirting kissing skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

지아 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒ㅤ i can’t change themes without dropping a work huhu enjoy, mwahmwah 🎀

there has never been a bigger sigh of relief than the one you let out of your chest a few millisecond prior. 

the feeling of your entire body relaxing, your fingers leaving the keyboard, the sound of its touch finally stopping and your back finally hitting the back chair, there is nothing greater. 

your hands’ muscles hurt from tapping for over an hour and the black your eyelids provide to your eyes relaxes them after a while not leaving the bright screen. you join both of your hands and stretch your arms all the way to the ceiling— it does so good to your back, you let out a soft groan. 

when you finally open your eyes, they are facing the ceiling just like your palms. you put your arms down and do the same with your gaze.

and a heart attack almost causes your end when you see your coworker, sitting on the desk right in front of you, looking at you. 

he smiles when you finally pay attention to him, as if he has been waiting for this for a while. to be fair, you haven’t been paying attention to anyone for three hours. too occupied with your documents.

his glasses slide down his nose in the slightest and with the way his face was originally facing the paper on his table, he is looking up at you with a well too deep look for your liking. 

“what?” you mouth, going for annoyed but the more he looks at you, the more a small grin draws itself on your face. 

he shrugs as he mouths a back a less than convincing, “nothing” with a smirk that says all the contrary. 

you are the one to look away first, going back to your godforsaken document that you have been filling since the beginning of time. you send it to the printer and, before pushing on your heels and getting up, shoot a look to your coworker (that is totally not an invitation to follow you!).

the sound of your heels against the floor resonate in the entirety of the hall. there are other steps that are not yours coming fast behind you after a while. they are fewer yet getting closer, like the person is much taller than you.

you can feel the presence of the individual behind you right after you walk past the tiny room with all the household products. and before you can get too far from it, a strong hand holds your forearm and pulls you in.

a yelp leaves your mouth when your back hits the door and before you can say anything a hot mouth finds yours. 

you can’t help but smile and sigh as you slide your palms on his neck, “sungoon,” before kissing him back. 

he slides one of his arms around your waist, making you have no contact with the door, as he hums against your mouth. he steadies himself with his free hand planted on the wooden exit. 

you think you shouldn’t let a man drag you wherever he wants like that, you also think his glasses are about to crack if he doesn’t take them off. but you would let sunghoon drag you anywhere he wants and the kiss is too good to act on the last thought. 

“i’ve been,” he says between two kisses, your hand sliding in his hair. “thinking about you,” he continues, leaving your lips to trail kisses on your jaw, “all day long.”

he is all over your mouth again before you can even respond to that declaration that made butterflies erupt in your stomach. his teeth sink gently on your bottom lips, asking you to open your mouth for him. 

it is like your legs evaporate when he slides his tongue inside your in between your lips. he explores, licks everything in it and electricity runs all over your body when both of your tongues connect. 

his huge hand on your lower back presses you impossibly closer to him. your fingers grip his hair and the man only smiles as he tilts his head to the side, to get his tongue further into your mouth. 

kissing sunghoon at work must be the best feeling ever. the adrenaline the thought of getting caught creates in your being is amazing. his lips against yours is like a drug that soothes and energizes you at the same time. 

alas, today is way too busy to mess around like that. 

it takes about ninety percent of the strength in your body to break the kiss by turning your head to the side. the fact that sunghoon is completely unbothered and focuses on your neck with no shame and no less fervor doesn’t help. 

“someone is going to catch us,” you whisper to him, still smiling at the hot contact of his mouth on your skin. 

you should know by now that this is the last thing he cares about, “i hope they catch us,” he responds against you. 

you bite down your lip while he keeps leaving pecks on your jaw, down to your neck. one of his hands slowly comes to your buttoned shirt’s first button: you immediately push him away. 

“no,” you firmly state, with an accusatory finger that doesn’t go well with your huge grin. 

he holds his hands in surrender, the same grin mirroring on his face. his hair is messy, his glasses aren’t in a straight line and there is lipstick all over his mouth. the last ten percent of your strength is put in not kissing him again.

“no more kisses for me?” he asks as he steps one step closer to you, too close.

he is overing you again. he smells like fresh coffee mixed to his cologne. his badge hangs around his neck like a necklace, following the line of his black tie.

you push him away— again— before you can even think of wrapping your fingers around this tie and pull him in another mouth to mouth, “no.” 

then you leave the small room. the fresh air hitting your lungs as soon as you step outside of it. sunghoon has the capacity of taking your capacity to breathe normally away. 

with a hand on your fast-beating heart, you walk toward the printer to take your papers, “we are not done,” you hear his voice loud, you stop in your tracks and take advantage of the fact he doesn’t see you to smile. when you start to move again he adds : “you’ll see tonight!”

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[iceandpeaches]

hi idk if you know the summer i turned pretty but there’s a scene where a character says “My chest physically hurts not being able to tell her how. much I love her” and I can just imagine luke being in love with a poseidon!daughter where her dad doesn’t approve of anyone for her. He tells percy about his chest hurting and will catch glimpses of Luke actually placing a hand on his chest whenever percy’s sister is around or walks away 😫😫😫 bonus if he actually PRAYS to poseidon angst but fluff ughhh

oh anon you cooked… the praying to poseidon part made my own chest hurt hurt.. i'm kinda familiar with tsitp but i never watched it.. sorry this is kinda long!! i hope this was good🙈🙈🙈

my chest hurts; luke castellan

for years, luke had been hopelessly in love with you. from the moment you step foot at camp after being attacked, he knew he wouldn’t love anybody other than you. he was excited he could spend time with you while you were still unclaimed, but upset when you were claimed by poseidon. he couldn’t spend every moment with you anymore, by your side, your best friend. 

he was devasted that he couldn’t see you from the moment he woke up till the moment he fell asleep. with you now residing in the quiet and slightly eery poseidon cabin, you were only part of his dreams if the gods allowed it.

and with poseidon being your father, he wanted to be in your life. which meant that with you and percy, he wanted to keep his children safe from the world and people that could harm you. which is why, poseidon declared to deny any boy who asked for his blessing to date you. upon hearing such, luke never gave up hope. he’d find a way to persuade your father, somehow. 

luke headed to your cabin to look for you, walking in since he knew it would be open. it wasn’t like there were hundreds of kids running in and out all day. 

“hey y/n– oh. is she not here?”

luke glanced down at your younger brother, sat by the body of water that sat in the middle of your cabin. poseidon kids. 

“yeah she’s.. mad at me right now. she went for a swim.”

“oh. then i’ll wait for her to come back.”

luke sat by percy, fingers tapping against the area that held a pool of water. he got bored after a while, turning to percy he stared out into the opening of the cabin door. 

“hey percy.. could i tell you something?”

“yeah, what’s up?”

“it’s just.. i want to be with y/n. i think about her all the time. and it hurts, like my chest physically hurts. to be able to tell her that i’m in love with her.”

luke gripped his shirt, thinking about every moment you smiled at him, laughed at his jokes, your eyes lighting up everytime you mention something about the water or going for a late night swim, every hug, everything you did. there was something so special about you, and he wanted you to know how special you were to him. percy watched as his friend’s grip tightened on a portion of his clothing, brows creased into a frown. 

an hour or so passed, and you’d come back from your cool off swim. luke’s lips curled into a gentle smile, noticing that your hair was wet which emphasised the curls in your hair. your expression brightened upon seeing luke, your towel wrapped around your shoulders.

“luke! what are you doing here?”

“well, you’re late.”

“to?”

“bracelet making with the hermes cabin.. duh! only the best cabin ever.”

you refrained from laughing, patting him on the back. you nod in acknowledgment, grabbing a fresh camp tee and a pair of shorts to slip into running toward the bathrooms to go change. luke smiled, feeling pressure in his chest again which caused him to grip his shirt as he followed behind you. 

for the next few days, luke’s chest hurt more than it usually did. for after every interaction with you, he had to take a moment to himself to breathe it out. several times percy had caught him with a hand on his chest whenever you’d walk away to tend to another camper’s needs. luke could’ve sworn he felt raindrops and thunder every now and then, hoping it wasn’t poseidon angry at him or something. 

luke tossed and turned in bed, the thought of you still fresh in his mind. you never left his mind, all he thought about was you. he slipped out of his bunk, then out a window to find a spot to burn an offering – not to his father, but yours. he lit a match, putting in into his tin can then burning away a piece of bread he had wanted to finish off in the morning which he’d miss most.

he watched the bread burn, tossing it into the small tin can. he fiddled with the drawstring of his hoodie, thinking of what he’d like to say as a prayer to your father.

“hi mr poseidon. i am luke castellan. son of.. hermes. i.. i don’t know how to explain this.”

he fumbled with his words, his mind incapable of configuring sentences he would’ve formerly said to the poseidon. it was messing with his brain. 

“i like your daughter. and i know that, you’d want her to have a guy good enough for her. i may not be that guy but.. i was hoping.. am i saying that right? uh.. i’m seeking for your blessing to, give me a shot?”

“i want to be that guy for her. i’ll take care of your daughter with my life, i’ll be there for her when no one else can. i promise, sir. i’ll love her, comfort her, take her side no matter what…”

he gulped, the flame dancing as he spoke. he wasn’t sure if poseidon would hear into his concerns, but it was worth trying. he hesitated to seal his promise, but he loved you. he’d do anything for you.

“sir, i’ll take good care of her. i promise.”

it almost sounded too desperate. luke blew out the flame, heading back to his cabin to not get caught by harpies. his heartfelt confession made his burden slightly lighter, actually being able to sleep this time.

"luke castellan, son of hermes. i've heard your prayer."

huh? who was that? luke opened his eyes, seeing the god of the seas in front of him. he swallowed the lump in his throat, bowing down only to feel poseidon's hand on his shoulder.

"will you keep to your promise? everything you said?"

luke glanced up at the god, nodding. yes. everything he said in his prayer. he'd keep to his promise. poseidon was staring him down, luke slightly intimidated by the death glare the god was giving him. the god's eyes reminded him of your eyes, every wave reflected in them.

"yes, sir. i will keep to my promise."

"how will i know for sure?"

huh? luke thought he'd made it clear with his intentions. but then he remembered – poseidon would deny him. poseidon would've never cared what luke had said in prayer, poseidon already deemed him unfit (like any other man) to date his daughter.

"but si–"

"you already know what i'm going to say, luke castellan."

"sir plea–"

luke woke up sweating. he looked around as he caught his breath, was that real? or was that all a dream? did poseidon really visit him in his dream? his chest hurt. his chest ached. his chest felt it was burning. for all he knew, he might've just lost his chance to love you. he didn't know if he could leave his cabin when morning came, he just wanted to disappear.

[absurdthirst]

Ordinatio {Marcus Acacius x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15.4k

Warnings: Political intrigue, force/arranged marriage, mentions of infertility, vaginal fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, breast play, nipple biting, riding, talks of family planning, pull out game, attempted theft, brutal attack, Marcus going feral, mentions of pregnancy, betrayal, gladiatorial violence

Comments: Forced to marry general Marcus Acacius, you are ordered by your emperors to spy on him in order to make sure that he is not indulging in traitorous acts. Quickly falling for the war roughened solider, you must risk the wrath of the Emperors in order to possibly have a future with him.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Swallowing harshly, you wait for the carriage to stop in front of the palace that towers over the city below on Palatine Hill. The shuffle of the Praetorian guards always makes you nervous, they answer only to the emperor and would kill anyone they deem a threat. It’s nerve wracking to be summoned so late at night that the torches that normally light the streets were burned out and the silence makes echoes through the darkness. Your cloak covers your hair, hastily fashioned when your household was disturbed merely an hour ago. Just the order that you were to appear before Geta and Caracalla as soon as you dress. The carriage had been waiting outside and your servant was pushed away when she tried to join you. Leaving you alone with the guards to travel just outside the city. Everything looks ominous at night, maybe it’s because your late husband so often spoke of the rot beneath the surface, but you still shiver. Jumping slightly when the door opens and you are helped out and directed to follow the flowing cape of the guard into the large palace.

You are escorted through the halls until you enter a room to the side of the court, the fires burning and casting shadows on the marbled walls. You stand there, two guards on either side of the door, and you are there for several moments until the Emperors both stride in and you bow your head, heart thumping as you await the reason why you’ve been brought here in the middle of the night.

You shiver when you see the two most powerful men in all of Rome. Uneasy by their almost manic expressions as Geta practically giggles. “This will be perfect, Caracalla.” He coos, stepping unreasonably close to you and gripping your chin so he can examine your face. “What do you think?”

“She will be perfect.” Caracalla giggles, eyes manic and they inspect you, dragging up and down your body. “He will not be able to resist her once she is in his possession.” You frown, not liking where this could be going. “You are to marry General Marcus Acacius.” Geta declares and claps, you resist the urge to pull your chin from the Emperor’s grip. You open your mouth before you think better of it, allowing the Emperor to continue, “you’ll marry him and report back to us any conversations or exchanges he has with anyone in the Senate or the army.” Geta orders and you cannot withhold your tongue, “marry the General to spy on him?” You ask and Caracalla giggles, “yes.” Geta sighs, “your late husband was a good man. Misguided in his views to an extent but we know he would’ve married a good woman. You are still young, it is sad to see you widowed.” You don’t buy their false concern for your being. “And the General?” You question softly and Geta continues, “we fear the General has become too…influential in court and in the Senate. We wish to discover if he has plans to establish a coup. We wish to avoid killing our General if we can. Perhaps you could…influence him to withhold any plans of attack.” Geta hums and Caracalla smirks, “with your cunt.” Your chin is finally released and you offer them a stiff smile, “the General is not a stupid man, he would recognize the ruse.” You say, knowing you’ll be killed if you refuse. No one denies the Emperor of Rome. 

“He will not if we order the marriage. He still mourns his wife and child. Perhaps giving him something outside of war will mellow him from any unwanted…advances to the palace.” Caracalla raises his eyebrows, “do you not think you are up to the task?” He dares you and you swallow, “I- I will not disappoint you.” You promise, praying the idea fades with the sunrise and you can continue living in your villa without need for a husband. “Excellent. We shall inform the General of your wish to marry once the sun has risen. You may go.” Geta dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Yes, Emperor.” You bow your head and back towards the door until they say your name, “fail us and you will be fed to the lions.” Geta warns and Caracalla’s shrieks of delight echo off the marbled walls. You nod, bowing your head again and you rush out the room once the guards open the doors. You have to make a plan to survive, to escape from under the thumb of the Emperor.

Marcus sighs as he adjusts the cuff around his wrist. It’s elaborate and unnecessary. Just like the laurel wreath he wears in his hair. The trappings of Rome had once held appeal when he was younger, brasher. When his wife was here to greet him with a lusty kiss and promises of pleasures far beyond what he had imagined while laying in his cold tent outside the battlefields. Those dreams had long since been buried with her and the child she had suffered to bring into the world only to be lifeless when he slipped from her womb. Leaving him alone to focus on war and follow orders. Orders that he is increasingly uneasy with, the regrets of battle following him and the weariness of the continuous fight weighing on him. Roman conquests need to be countered with prudence, allowing the people to flourish in other parts of the realm instead of just the grandiose of the capital. He taps his hand on his knee as he waits, looking out over the olive trees in the gardens below and he wonders what war the emperors have decided to wage now, the senate unwilling or unable to keep them in check. 

“Ah General Acacius, thank you for joining us.” Geta crows as he swaggers into the room, Caracalla’s eyes manic and a grin on his face as he approaches Marcus. “Emperors.” He bows his head after he stands up, the laurel flashing in the sunlight coming through the linens covering the balcony. “So glad you could come on such short notice. We have some wonderful news to share.” Caracalla smirks and Geta continues by saying your name. “She is the widow of Senator Gracchus?” Marcus tilts his head, recognizing your name and he knows you from events thrown in the palace. “Yes. She is young, widowed at such a young age with no father to oversee her. She must marry again. And she will marry you.” Geta declares like it’s an honor.

Marcus pauses, his jaw tightening slightly and he clasps his hands together in front of his robes. “That is…..a great honor.” He says stiffly, immediately opposed to the idea, but he has to tread carefully with the emperors. They are impetuous at the best of times and have never learned how to accept rejection. Why would they have to when the world bows to their whims? “I fear that I would be unable to provide for a wife of such a status.” He adds, making it actually sound as if he has regret. “I spend so much time away from Rome, fighting for my emperors.” He sighs. “I fear that the young widow would not be happy with a husband such as I. Perhaps one closer to the senate might be more suitable?” 

“She does not wish to have another senator husband. She wants protector. Someone who can provide for her in ways other than coin. She expressly wishes for a gladiator and you are our most prized fighter. You are worthy of a high bred woman like her. Consider this a reward for your loyalty to Rome.” Geta insists, not letting Marcus push off the marriage. You must marry him. “A union like this will bring our fighters good spirit so they win our battles. Knowing they too could possess such a woman would motivate them to fight harder. The people want to see their General happy and we-” Geta gestures between him and Caracalla, “wish to award our greatest fighter with a grand prize. She is self sufficient, running her late husband’s household which we will assign to his brother as he had no direct heir. She will ensure your home is cared for and warm your cock at night.”

There is no way that he can reject the woman without offending the emperors. It seems as if he has no choice right now but to accept this. “You honor me.” He bows slowly, seething inside. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t want to know you. He has no need for a wife and can have all the companionship he desires if he just wants his cock warmed.

A horse neighs as a soldier brings news from the palace and you scramble when your servant brings you the scroll. You quickly unroll it, praying to the gods that you have been released from your duty and your shoulders drop when you read that you are to marry Acacius in two days time.  Your villa will be transferred to the hands of your brother in law, Albus, as you are to move into the General’s villa. You fall into your chair as you reread the scroll. It’s over. You must marry and you are to be under the control of the Emperors. You could run, try to escape into the countryside but you know they would find you. No one escapes Rome. No matter how far you go, you will be found. You swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes, and you look up when Antonia enters, “is everything okay, matronae?” She asks and you nod, sniffing to control your emotions. “I wish for you to pack my things, I am to be wed to General Marcus Acacius. I will need to relocate to his residence after we are wed in two days' time.” You declare and her eyes widen, knowing of no existing relationship between you and the General. “Ye-yes, matronae.” She nods and rushes off, leaving you to wallow in your unfortunate luck.

“I will not do it!” The crockery shatters against the marble walls of the villa. The servant who had just brought the meal scurrying out of the room in order to avoid Marcus’s wrath. His chest heaves as he looks at the ruined meal, food scattered and his situation still just as hopeless as it had been moments before. “Fuck.” He hisses, dropping back onto the chair and reaching for the cup of wine that he hopes will drown his sorrow. He will be married in two days’ time. Another wife to bear his name and his children. He scoffs to himself and puts the wine to his lips. You had not born Gracchus any children so perhaps you are barren. It would be the gods favoring him if you were. He has no desire to have children, to leave a legacy behind. The pride he had for Rome had slowly eroded away over the years and campaigns, leaving him with a hollowness he can never tell anyone about. “Fuck.” He slams the cup down and rubs his hand over his face. The villa will be ready when you arrive, the servants already informed, he just needs to accept it himself.

You bid goodbye to the servants that you’ve overseen since you arrived at your late husband’s villa. They look sad to see you go and you take that as a compliment. You sigh and only Antonia follows you as you are helped into the quadriga as you depart for the palace. Your hair styled by your servant and the red veil placed over your head as you ride to your fate. The General will be waiting for his bride and you pray you don’t disappoint him. You’ve seen glimpses of him but you’ve never been able to properly look upon the man. “All will be well.” Antonia promises as she reaches for your hand to squeeze it. “I hope so.” You whisper, knowing this will be a life or death situation for you. When you arrive at the palace, you are helped out of the carriage and escorted up the stairs to the doors to the grand hall. You glance around, “am I not allowed to see my intended before we wed?” You ask the guard who doesn’t say a word. You swallow harshly and Antonia rubs your arm before she checks your long tunic, ensuring you are a beautiful bride. “Thank you, Antonia.” You murmur and she offers you a sweet smile, “I will be with you with every step, matronae.” She promises and you squeeze her hand and take a deep breath just as the doors open to reveal a grand hall full of the members of the court and Senate. The Emperors standing on the balcony with what seems like the entire Roman Empire watching below as General Marcus Acacius stands there dressed in white with a golden laurel atop his head.

Of course Geta and Caracalla have turned this into an ostentatious event. He would have preferred something intimate, or nothing at all. However, the emperors had other plans and invited the entire senate to witness the marriage. Marcus doesn’t flinch, standing tall and watching as you walk towards him. The red veil covers your face and he can make out your features as you move closer. You are a beautiful woman, but he’s never paid much attention to another man’s wife. Now you will become his wife.

You inhale deeply as you take a step up to the balcony and the General holds his hand out to help you. You thank him softly and the Emperors grin. Marriage is usually informal, decided upon between families and within the home but the Emperors planned for a spectacle. “We welcome you here to witness the marriage of a great Roman General, Marcus Acacius. He is to wed the widow of Senator Gracchus.” Geta announces and Marcus releases your hand. The marriage scroll is laid out on the table and you have no dowry. Lacking a father along with your late husband accepting your dowry, you have nothing to give but yourself. A fact that the general doesn’t seem to care about. The crowd cheers and the court claps, making you feel more like you’re about to become Empress than the general’s wife. “Let us witness their union. A gift from Rome to her greatest warrior.” Geta declares and the crowd cheer, making your hands shake slightly. “Now, join hands.” He orders and you nod, joining your shaky hands with Acacius who frowns as he grips your hands in his large ones.

Marcus doesn’t like the idea of you being a gift. Not caring for the implication you are being forced, even if both of you are. The whims of the emperors must be met. Your hand is small in his, soft. You are a woman of nobility, you are not used to rough men. That is what he is, despite the finery of his costume. He remembers a different wedding, a lifetime ago in the small parlor of his late wife’s house. He had been so excited then, and now he is hesitating to say the words that are expected. “Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia.” He murmurs, his voice low and clear.

You swallow harshly, your throat dry as the Emperors look to you expectedly. You look at

Acacius and lick your lips. Caracalla shifts, his eyes narrowing slightly and you manage to choke out “ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia,” to seal yourself in marriage to the general. The Emperors grin and you know there’s no escaping this fate. Your union must be sealed with a kiss so you let go of Marcus’s hands and wait for him to lift your veil.

Marcus stares at you. Almost surprised to find that you are so young. He feels much older compared to your youthful beauty and he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a brief kiss while everyone around erupts into cheers. The marriage contract will still need to be signed, but the two of you are married in the eyes of Rome.

The cheers roar in your ears but you blank it out, focused on the rough looking man in front of you who is now  your husband. The Emperor snaps his fingers and his servant carries over the papyrus that will be the marriage contract between you and General Acacius. “Please sign to join in matrimony with your intended.” Greta orders you and you swallow, picking up the pen to sign your name on the marriage contract. Your hand shakes and you hesitate, not wanting to marry the man beside you but you have no choice. Caracalla stares at you, a menacing look on his face that has you scribbling your name in fear of the consequences of not marrying the General. You look up to see the grin of glee on the Emperor’s face and you stand up, handing the pen to Marcus.

Sighing softly, Marcus leans over and scribbles his name beside yours. Making the marriage contract legal and binding. You are now his wife in truth. “Excellent!” Geta claps his hands together. “Now we will slaughter a dozen pigs, sacrificing them to the gods for a blessed union!” It’s excessive and disgustingly wasteful, making Marcus curl his lip slightly. The animals would not feed anyone, and people in Rome were buckling under the expense of war.

You want to suggest a cake for Jupiter but you will not argue with the Emperors. You swallow harshly and the Emperors clap, approaching the balcony edge to declare the union. The crowd cheers, “feliciter!” and the Emperors spin around to both cheer, “let us feast.” You look at Marcus whose jaw is clenched and you bite your inner cheek, imagining he is not pleased with you, you are not young enough, pure enough. You have no dowry to provide. Perhaps you’re not pretty enough for him. Lacking in all aspects. You don’t have time to dwell on it when Antonia comes for you to prepare you for the feast. You look at Marcus as you are taken away and he nods, his laurel shining like he’s Mars himself standing there.

He has a wife. A woman that he knows nothing about is now under his care and carrying his name. He receives the congratulations of the Senate, aware that they are all just as confused as he is by the speed and celebration of the events. Especially when neither he nor you look particularly happy. Marcus had noticed how nervous you had seemed and had wondered if it was because of the emperor’s attentions or if you did not care to be under a man’s thumb again. He is aware of the way the two most powerful men are carefully watching him as he shakes hands with the senators, keeping his conversations brief because he knows Geta and Caracalla would rather be feasting than talking. They love to drink and carouse, and he hopes that the wedding feast they have prepared will not turn into the orgies they are becoming known for.

Antonia removes your veil and restyles your hair for the reception. She reaches into the pocket for the bottle of perfume oil, rubbing it into your skin to refresh you and you exhale shakily, realizing you are married once again. “I hope he is not cruel.” You confess to Antonia who shakes her head, “I spoke with one of his house servants, he is strict but does not hit them. I pray to the gods he treats his wife the same.” She whispers, knowing that most nobles would smack her for speaking as she does but you request her candid nature. “Very well, let’s return and feast. I am anxious for wine to calm my nerves.” You confess and Antonia nods, escorting you to the hall where the feast is being laid out for the guests.

Marcus has not yet sat down. Always finding it rude when a man would put his own comfort before that of his wife. While training with him, he had heard stories of Maximus’s devotion to the woman he had loved, the care in which he had treated her when she was alive before Commodus had her brutally murdered. He had treated his first wife the same way and had been rewarded with the loyalty and love that he had cherished when he was away. Eyes turn towards you when you arrive and Marcus is once again struck by your beauty, your slight apprehension as you look around for him and the surprise that he is not already feasting.

Antonia escorts you to the table where your husband sits alongside the Emperors who are gulping down wine like it’s going to evaporate at any moment. Antonia bows her head and rushes off to the servants area, watching you while Marcus pulls your chair out and gestures for you to sit. “Thank you.” You murmur, taking your seat and he sits down beside you, his posture stiff as you look at the food on display. “My Emperors have been most generous in their hosting of our union.” You declare to Marcus so Geta and Caracalla hear you, wanting to ensure they are in good spirits so you can leave the feast earlier than expected.

“Yes.” Marcus finds it to be a lavish expense that is completely unnecessary, but so many of the Emperor’s decisions cost the people of Rome. “The excess is very abundant.” He picks up the cup of wine that is at his plate and offers it up in a toast. “To Rome and her glory.” He offers. “And our Emperors that make it so.”

“To Rome and her glory.” You toast and Caracalla giggles, holding up his golden goblet. “And your Emperors.” He adds with raised eyebrows. “And her Emperors.” You declare with a stiff smile. You know you are playing a dangerous game with the manic leaders. Any moment they could change their mind and have you killed. You doubt you’ll be able to report anything on the general. He seems reserved and only speaks when he feels he has something of substance to add. He doesn’t speak at all while you enjoy the meats, cheeses, and fruits on display in front of you. You gesture for another cup of wine when Caracalla tuts, “you really shouldn’t drink so much. It’s unbecoming of the bride to be drunk when she takes her husband’s cock for the first time.”

Marcus’s brow arches up, wondering why the emperor is so invested in this marriage being consummated. Your fingers pull back from the cup as if you are being rebuked and the servant pulls the carafe of wine away, but Marcus turns around to take it himself, refilling your cup. “There is no celebration without wine.” He reminds them, refilling his own cup as well. “She has been a wife before, she knows what is expected of her.” The truth is, he has no intention of bedding you tonight, he doesn’t know you and he feels as if you don’t want him. This is a marriage that was forced on both of you by the whims of madmen.

Your eyebrows raise slightly at the defiance shown by Marcus. Something that would’ve gotten him killed if he were of a lower rank. Geta stares as Marcus takes a sip of wine and you follow your husband, taking a gulp as the Emperor tilts his head. It’s Caracalla that breaks the tension by throwing his head back and laughing, “this is true. She is no virgin. She has been trained and therefore should satisfy our great general before he has to venture off to claim more land for Rome and her people.” The Emperor grins and raises his goblet towards you. You offer him a stiff smile and glance around the room at the court and senate feasting while the people of Rome suffer for their gluttony. The feast continues with Geta and Caracalla standing up to mingle around the room, wanting to boast about their perfect match. “Shall we return to your villa? I am certain you wish to bed me and get some rest after such an arduous day.” You ask your husband softly.

He nods, figuring that he could speak with you in private without guards or servants around. It is rare to be able to speak freely. “Your possessions arrived earlier today and my servants unpacked them, but I am sure you wish to have things set up to your liking.” He murmurs as he stands up and reaches for your hand. “Do you have many servants coming with you?”

“Just one. Antonia. The others were my late - were Gracchus. They belong to his brother now.” You reveal and he nods as you take his hand. It’s calloused and engulfs yours, making you apprehensive that such a strong man could easily break you. You approach the Emperors and bow your head as your husband announces your departure.

Geta chuckles and nods. “Eager to fill her.” He claps Marcus’s shoulder and motions for the two of you to leave. “I do not blame you for wanting to feel the clutch of her cunt around your cock. The spoils of your latest conquest.” His shrill laughter grates on the general’s ears and he doesn’t do more than simply nod. “We have much to do.” He agrees.

Marcus escorts you through the bustling hall, Antonia and his own men on your trail as he takes you to the carriage that is waiting to bring you to his villa. Marcus helps you up into the carriage and you settle in to watch the city pass by on your silent journey to his villa. “I know that neither of us wanted to be wed but we must do what is required of us so we do not endure the wrath of the emperors. I wish for you to bed me tonight. To consummate the marriage as I do not trust that the Emperors do not have eyes watching our moves. If we fail to indulge them in our union, we will suffer.” You whisper, keeping your face turned away from your husband.

Marcus snorts softly and sighs. “I do not rape on a battlefield and I would not do so in my own bed.” He tells you. “We can send the servants away and say that we have fulfilled our marriage duties.” He knows you are uneasy so he doesn’t touch you. “I will not take a woman by force or coercion.”

You turn to look at him, his face flickered with each lamppost you pass, and you are surprised. Most men would have accepted your offer to have a warm cunt to spill inside without any care to how you feel or what you wish. “Thank you.” You whisper, knowing in that moment that the stories of the brutal warrior that fights for Rome has not returned to her streets. The man beside you is slow in his movements and you realize that he’s trying not to spook you. “I am no stranger to married life and I have heard that you were married too. I am sorry for the loss of your wife and child. I cannot - I cannot imagine-” You reach for his hand, “I lost my husband but I did not love him. My father arranged the marriage to guarantee his connections to the senate and we never were blessed with children. He was older, I was his third wife after his previous wives died from disease and a snake bite. He was unlucky and I do miss his companionship but I never loved him.” You confess, wanting your husband to know your history.

“Then you have my deepest sympathies that your second marriage is also not of your choosing.” Marcus looks down at your smaller hand in his and there is a moment where his heart jolts. You are soft and sweet and deserve much more than him. “My uxor- we loved each other very much. She was everything to me.” He admits. “I had thought to never marry again after burying her and our son.”

You squeeze his hand, “I’m sorry that you’ve been pushed into this but I want you to know that I would never try to take her place. This is an arrangement forced upon us. Your wife will be your true love. I am here to help with your household and provide you with a confidant if that is what you wish for.”

“You are a beautiful and youthful woman.” He murmurs honestly. “You won’t want to find pleasure?” He asks, wanting there to be honestly between both of you if this union is to be successful in the eyes of the Emperors. “What do you want out of this arrangement?”

“I want freedom. I have been running the household for a year and I wish to have my freedom, to not be under the control of my husband’s whims. I will provide for you a stable household and in return, I want to spend my time indulging in painting and needlework. My hobbies.” You confess, “and for pleasure…I have never known such a thing other than from my own hand.” You admit, “you cannot yearn for what you have not experienced.”

Marcus is stunned that you have never known pleasure. He would be lying if he did not immediately think to offer to show you pleasure. He could give it to you, he knows that. Even the whores that he sometimes uses that follows the army find pleasure with him. “I am gone from the city much of the time.” He reminds you. “The household is more yours than mine. The servants will do what you tell them to. Your time is yours to decide how to spend it.”

You nod, letting go of his hand, “thank you. Then we are in agreement. Our union will be one of convenience and to satisfy the whims of the Emperors. I will not sully your name by seeking pleasure from others.” You promise, “and I understand if you find your pleasure while you are away.” You’re a pragmatic woman, you know men need to find their pleasure.

“That will not happen.” Marcus admits. “It would be dishonorable to take another woman to my bed while you are my uxor.” He has a code that he follows. Even if he did not want to be married, he will not tarnish his reputation by seeking pleasure somewhere else. “I have a hand.”

You frown, knowing that most men would take your invitation and find the first whore to bury himself in. "Very well. We shall live our lives...together but separated." You declare just as you arrive at Villa Acacius. Marcus opens the door and holds out his hand, helping you out and you look up at your new home. It's not as grand as the Senator's home but it is beautiful. You enter the courtyard and smile at the servants awaiting your arrival.

Marcus normally allows the servants to run his household, not carrying much about the schedule of things as long as the place is clean. Now you might change things so he leads you over to them. “This is your new matronae, my uxor.” He introduces you. “She will oversee your work and any changes she wishes to make are to be treated as if they came from me.” He orders.

The servants nod, greeting you and some are more enthusiastic than others. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I want to observe during my first days here and then I will discuss what I’d like to change with input from you all on what you consider to be best.” You declare and some are shocked that you are considering their opinions. “My job begins tomorrow. For now, I’d like to retire to our rooms.” You declare and Antonia steps from behind you, “this is Antonia, my handmaid. She will be continuing her duties by my side.” You announce and the staff nod.

Marcus is pleased with the way that the introductions went and he turns around to stride off towards his room. He knows that you will have to sleep there, with him, but he needs a moment to change out of the cumbersome robes he had worn to get married in. Preferring a plainer, softer tunic when he is home.

You watch him go and Antonia is speaking with the women who give her a briefing on your new home. Antonia nods and turns back towards you, “let us get you ready for bed, matronae.” She says and you follow her to the room near where Marcus is changing. The room along from there is the bedchamber and you close your eyes as Antonia takes your hair out of its style to allow you to relax and you’re soon wearing a thin tunic, ready for bed. “I hope he treats you well, matronae.” She murmurs and squeezes your hand before she leaves you. You inhale shakily and enter the room you will be sharing with the general to find him standing there, shoulders broad in the thin tunic and he is looking to the streets below. “All is well?” You ask, letting him know of your presence.

Marcus turns and is struck by your beauty as he sees you in the simple tunics and your hair down. The jewelry is gone and you look like you are much younger than your years. It makes him feel older all of a sudden and he wonders again why the emperors would give you to him. “As well as can be expected.” He answers, watching as you look towards the bed warily as if you expect him to break his promise from earlier and throw you down on it. “I will sleep on the floor.” He assures you, making you drown. “That is not- it’s your bed.” You protest and Marcus snorts. “I have spent many nights sleeping on a rocky ground without a blanket.” He reminds you. “A floor with cushions will be a luxury.” He shrugs. “I wish to put you at ease.” He admits. “I will not take what is not offered, and you have no reason to offer if you find no pleasure in fucking.”

You stare at him and sigh, “I do not wish to cast my husband from his bed. We are well aware of the sexual act and what it takes to copulate. We can be adults and share a bed so you do not wake with an aching back.” You announce as you walk over to the bed. “I am weary. It’s been a long day. Get in bed and sleep, Marcus.” You order, not wanting to argue about this.

He stares at you for a moment and there is a hint of amusement that softens his features. “If you were a man, you would make a good general.” He hums, moving to the bed and throwing back the soft, clean sheets. “Come rest.” He urges once he has sat down.

You nod and sit on the bed, swinging your legs in and you pull the sheets up after Marcus slides under them. “I know I wasn’t what you wanted but I want to make this work.” You murmur and he hums, “we will.” He promises and you sigh, closing your eyes after he blows out the candle. You will need to report to the Emperors with something about him at some point and you already feel like you’re betraying him. “Goodnight.” You whisper and close your eyes as you fall asleep within moments, unable to worry about being in a strange place when you are exhausted.

Marcus lays in the darkness, listening to your breathing as it starts to slow down. The soft rustle of the sheets when you move. Looking over at you as the moon casts a pale glow through the sheer curtains covering the balcony. It’s a curse that you are so beautiful right now, since it has been some time since he has had a woman in his bed. His cock twitches as he imagines touching you, but he doesn’t reach out. Turning away and looking at the stand where his sword is displayed, sighing softly as he wonders how long it will be before the emperors send him off to war again.

You may have fallen asleep right away but you wake in the middle of the night. The moon is high in the sky and it takes you a moment to remember where you are. You inhale sharply when you remember you’re in Marcus’s villa. In your new home. You exhale and lean back onto the bed, looking over at the muscular back of your new husband. He’s handsome, no denying that fact, and he’s strong. Capable. Smart. All qualities to want in a man. You wonder what his desires are. He hasn’t been married for 20 years and you wonder who he fucks. He can’t be celibate. He’s a general. You’re not stupid enough to think he hasn’t slept with whores. You wonder if he pleasured them or simply took what he wanted. You can see his golden skin illuminated by the moon, moles and scars mapping his life before you and you can’t help but reach out to gently trace a path, your touch feather light. He grunts and you withdraw your hand, eyes wide at the idea of being caught. You sigh when he settles back down and you lean back on your side. Staring up at the ceiling, you imagine him giving you pleasure. You’ve read about it plenty of times but your late husband always fucked you to fill you. There was never a day in bed pleasuring each other. He had business to attend to in the senate and he didn’t have time for silly things like making his wife cum.

Marcus had woken up the second you touched him. Feigning sleep as he waited for you to slip from the bed. Only to feel you roll away from him and sigh. He wonders if you are regretting this, if you are doubtful of your future even though you had seemed to trust him enough to fall asleep. You grunt quietly and sigh, like you are thinking about something that is uncomfortable. “What keeps you awake, uxor?” He asks quietly in the dark.

His deep, sleep laden voice makes you squeak and you turn to look at him, his back still facing you. You bite your lip, wondering if you should lie or tell him the truth. You are no longer a young innocent bride. You were a widow, matured by loss. "I was wondering if you pleasured the lovers you've had during your time of being a widow." You declare, cheeks burning but you speak without wavering.

Marcus grunts slightly, the sheets rustling as he turns over to look at you. His dark eyes searching your face for some clue of what you are thinking. “Unless they cry out to gods falsely, I would say yes.” Marcus tells you, not bragging, but speaking honestly. “I do not like false attempts to flatter me and I prefer that a woman leave my bed with a smile on her face.”

You appreciate his candid response and you decide to be bold. You sit up, shifting to look down at him and you drop the sheets from your body. "I have never cried to the gods. My last husband would penetrate me without caring if I was wet enough before he would push into me. He would spill inside me and then go about his day, leaving me with my legs up in hopes of conceiving his child. He never - he never gave me pleasure or made sure I was enjoying myself." Marcus makes a noise of disappointment but you don't let him comment when you quickly add, "I want you to fuck me. Like you would a camp whore. I want you to make me cry your name so every god will hear me on Capitolium."

Pushing up to his elbow, Marcus stares at you seriously. “The camp whores are used to…rougher sex.” He warns you. “After war, after the killing- the urges to fuck are rough. There isn’t the pretty lovemaking that is slow and sweet.” His cock hardened even now thinking of it. “It’s hard and deep. Enough to steal your breath and make your tits shake from the force of my thrusts.” He arches a brow. “Are you sure that is what you want? I am sure your senator husband didn’t fuck you like I would.”

His words combined with his deep voice makes your cunt clench and dampen, and you lean closer to him, "my husband didn't make me see stars. He didn't make me cry. I want you to fuck me like you do those whores. Make me scream for all of Rome to hear. I can handle it. I can take it."

This time, the kiss Marcus gives you isn’t chaste. It’s not a quick pressing of his lips to yours to appease the Emperors. This is wet, carnal. Lunging forward and capturing your lips with his and sliding his tongue into your mouth as he rolls you onto your back. Completely and instantaneously taking over as his fingers reach for the hem of your tunic.

You gasp into his mouth, tongue meeting his and you whine when he breaks the kiss to drag your tunic up your body, tossing it down on the marbled floor. You shiver as the cool night air hits your skin and he shifts to kneel, his dark eyes looking down at you. You look up at him and reach for the hem of his tunic, already tenting with his arousal. "I want to see my husband."

He has no problem being naked, revealing himself for you. He pulls his tunic up and his cock catches, starting to bob as he pulls it up over his head and tosses it aside. “Spread your legs for me, bella.” He growls, his voice raspy and full of command. “Let me see my wife’s cunt.”

You are already wet just from the strength he displays and you whimper, spreading your legs for him and your slick is shiny in the moonlight as you put yourself on show for your new general husband.

Marcus groans, his large hands squeezing your thighs and then moving down to your hips, holding them as his thumbs spread apart the lips of your sex and his cock twitches. Sliding his fingers through your folds until he is circling your entrance with two fingers until they are wet with your desire and he pushes them inside your slick walls. “Perfect.”

You moan when his thick digits push into you, stretching you out. Your hands itch to touch him so you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock. “Not yet.” He growls, batting your hand away and you whine, both in frustration and pleasure as he starts to move his fingers. Slowly pumping them until he’s twisting his wrist so he can press his thumb against your clit. “Gods.” You gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets.

Leaning down, he bites at your nipple before running the flat of his tongue against it when you gasp. It makes him smile, the shocked sound you give. “You should see men suckling the tits of whores as they bounce on their cocks.” He groans against your skin. “They all love it, the men, the whores.” He continues to pump his fingers deeper into your cunt and loves how your walls start clenching down around them.

His words are scandalous but you gush at the thought of watching a scene like that. Something so sordid. “Marcus. I- do it again.” You beg and he obliges, leaning down to suck on your nipple before biting down. “Oh gods.” You whimper, your hips tilting as he works you higher and you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach. Something you’ve only ever done for yourself.

“That’s it.” He encourages you, his cock throbbing as he presses his thumb against your clit and pumps his fingers deep, curling them up inside you like one of the whores of his youth had shown him. He had been grateful to her ever since when he had been able to consistently please the women he was fucking, including his wife when he had married. “Why don’t you cry out for me, uxor?”

Marcus’s words send you over the edge. His claim of you both verbally and physically has you clamping down on his thick digits. “Oh fuck.” You curse, soaking his fingers when you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

He isn’t the type of man to just stop as soon as you start to cum. Continuing to work his fingers into you as he watches you come apart. Groaning quietly as your slick coats his fingers and slides down his wrists. You are wet enough now.

He takes your breath as he works you through it. “Marcus. Please.” You beg, wanting to feel him inside you, “I need you inside me.” You reach out to wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping him like Gracchus taught you.

Marcus hisses, batting your hand away and for a moment you freeze, afraid you had done something wrong. “It had been too long.” He growls, grabbing your hips and flipping you over to your stomach to pull your ass up in the air. “I need to be inside you before I spill.”

The position is new and you gasp in surprise, looking over your shoulder at your new husband who has his cock in his hand, pumping himself as he smacks your ass with his free palm. “Fuck me.” You demand, arching your back to display yourself for him.

“You would make such a good camp whore.” Marcus growls, shuffling forward to line up. It’s not exactly a compliment to most high born women, but he doesn’t think you will take offense. His hand is on your hip as he presses the head of his cock at your wet entrance to push inside you in one, hard thrust.

He stretches you like you’ve never known but it doesn’t hurt. You moan in pleasure as he twitches inside your pussy, making you whimper his name. “Marcus.” You pant, “move.” You demand and he chuckles, “so desperate.” He pulls his hips back, leaving only the tip of him remaining before he pushes deep into you in one quick thrust. “Fuck!” You yelp, loving how he feels.

He chuckles and grips your hips harshly in his hand as he rocks into you. Watching as your body arches back as he pulls his hips back, withdrawing again. He had told you he wouldn’t be gentle with you and he is keeping his word. “Now you will cry my name.” He vows, pushing forward again to fill you up and rock your body into the bed beneath you.

He takes your breath away, feeling like he’s in your stomach and you cry out on every rock of his hips, falling forward onto your cheek as you grip the sheets that are crumbled beneath you. “Fuck, Marcus.” You cry, feeling your body jiggle with each thrust.

He had almost vowed that he would not touch you but he could not resist your request. Your body is so willing, so yielding to him, making him groan as he plows into you over and over again. Listening to your moans as he fucks you.

His hands squeeze your flesh and you are lost in the sensations. No one has made you feel like this before. “Gods, you’re - you’re so thick. Stretching me out, husband.” You whine, rocking back onto him.

He growls in pleasure, snapping his hips forward again and again. He won’t last long, he knows that. It’s been too goddamn long since he has fucked anyone. Leaning over your back, he slides a hand between your thighs and starts to rub the little pleasure button above your grasping entrance. “You are such a needy whore.” He coos in your ear.

His words make you squeal when combined with his fingers on your clit and it doesn’t take long for you to fall apart. You cry out his name loud enough that the servants will hear and your thighs shake as you clamp down on his cock.

“Shit, shit.” Marcus hisses in pleasure at how you soak his cock, rocking his hips through your pulsing orgasm. His body starting to tighten as he works himself closer. Pulling his hand away from your clit and grabbing your hips. Slamming his own against your ass for another few thrusts before he is ripping free of your cunt and taking his cock in his hand. Pumping furiously as he starts painting your ass with hot ropes of his seed.

You huff in disappointment when he spills hot cum on your ass. You wanted him to fill you up, to experience it. Not to become with child but to feel him. You look over your shoulder as he relaxes from his orgasm and he’s so beautiful. Jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, he looks like a god.

Marcus squeezes your hip with the hand that is still holding you and sighs. “Fuck.” He pants, feeling completely blissed out. Slapping your ass once before he is shuffling off the bed to reach for his tunic to clean your ass off. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You rest your cheek against the sheets as you let your body lay flat while he cleans you up. “I did. Why didn’t you- did you not wish to spill your seed inside me?” You ask curiously, looking over at him as he walks naked across the room, the moonlight highlighting his form.

Marcus picks up the pitcher of wine and pours a cup. Turning to you with a slight tilt of his head as he starts to pad across the floor back to the bed. “We have not talked about children.” He reminds you. “I did not want to fill you if you did not want to risk carrying my child.” He never spilled inside the women he fucked, always pulling out. When he started to cum, he had just acted on instinct. He takes a sip of the wine and offers you the cup.

You take the cup from his hand, thanking him soft and you watch him as he sits down beside you. He’s so broad. You imagine him protecting you, defending you. You shift closer to rest your head on his shoulder, feeling closer now you’ve consummated your marriage. “I do not mind children. I am not sure I can have them. Gracchus…he spilled inside me every time and it never took. Would I disappoint you if I do not provide you with a child?” You ask softly, pulling away from him so you can look at him.

“I …..never imagined having another child.” Marcus tells you honestly. He looks over at the sword on the display and then back to you. “If you never give me a child, I would not think it was because of you, but because the gods did not wish it so.” He rationalizes. “One day, I will leave and never return home, fallen in battle.” He accepted his fate a long time ago, made peace with it. “If you have no wish to risk carrying, I will spill my seed on the sheets.”

You barely know the man but to know he could die in battle makes your heart clench. “I’d like you to spill inside me if you wish to have me again. I enjoyed the pleasure. I want to feel you and if it takes, then we will be blessed and you can fight knowing your legacy will live on.”

Marcus chuckles. “You are a beautiful woman, one the gods would be envious of.” He tells you. “I am just a man. I would have you every night and at least once during the day if you were willing.”

You fluster, biting your lower lip as he compliments you. Your late husband never did so. “I will not complain if that is what my husband wishes of me.” You declare and he reaches out to grip your chin, “it is not about whether I wish it of you, it’s if you wish to have me.” He says and you look into those dark eyes, “I want you if you want me.” You promise and he slides his hand down to your neck, inhaling deeply. He never expected to fall into bed with the woman that was gifted to him but he finds himself eager to bury himself inside you again and fill you up. “Let us rest, corculum.” You say as you stand up to set your wine cup down on the table and you make your way back to the bed, sliding under the covers still nude.

Marcus hums in agreement and slides back into bed beside you. Pulling his arm back to allow you to curl against him if you wish. “I don’t mind.” He tells you when you hesitate. “We will rest and know that no one can claim we have not consummated our vow.”

You curl into his side, listening to his breathing even out and you focus on his heartbeat. You’re here to spy on him, to ensure he’s not hurting the empire with a coup but you aren’t sure if you can betray him like that. He’s already gotten under your skin. Eventually, you close your eyes and decide to see how things go. Perhaps it’s only rumors and there will be no evidence of Marcus Acacius’s unrest with Rome and her emperors.

****

Marcus groans, toes curling as he thrusts up into you. Watching as your breasts shake, mouth dropping open in a low moan of his name. It’s been nearly a month and he is still in Rome. The Emperors claim they want their general well rested for the next campaign and to give him time to spend with his new bride. He has enjoyed that. Since that first night, you have become insatiable and Marcus has fucked you in every position, on every surface of the villa. Spending more time with you than anyone else although you do disappear with your servant at times, claiming you prefer the peace of the women’s baths in the city center. He doesn’t begrudge you that, although he misses the time when you aren’t with him. He slaps your thigh, smirking when you clench down around him. Riding his cock is probably your favorite way to have sex and he doesn’t mind, your beauty entrancing him as you gallop towards the Elysian Fields of pleasure. “Cum for me, amica.” He moves to rub your clit like you enjoy, having learned your body well over the past weeks and his other hand drags your body down so he can suckle at your tits.

“Marcus.” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair as he bites down on your nipple and the change in angle has you falling apart for him. His fingers rubbing your bundle of nerves has you shaking and you have never known such ecstasy. You rock back onto his cock, trying to work yourself through your orgasm and spur his but it’s so much. Your thighs shake as you collapse on top of him, smothering him as you moan his name. He moves fast, rolling you over so you’re beneath him, his jaw clenched as he looms above you, his hand gripping your thigh to push it towards your stomach so he can work himself deeper inside your pulsing cunt. “It’s it, fuck. You are so deep. Keep going. Want you to fill me with your seed.” You order, watching him as he grunts. The last month you’ve been indulging in your new husband but as you look up at him, the guilt looms. Your trips to the baths have not been truthful. You’ve been to the palace to inform the emperors about Marcus’s interactions, his meetings while he is in Rome. You hate betraying him, wish you could go to the palace and tell them you’re done, but you know the emperors would have you killed for insolence and treason if you dared to deny them. So far, Marcus has met with a few senators at his home, discussing the mounting cost of the endless war, the endless conquests that have sent the Roman people into poverty. That idea alone is treason to the empire, to question the decisions of the emperors, but they haven’t dragged Marcus from his home. They are waiting for something and you don’t know what that is. Marcus reaches for your hand, lifting it above your head to bring you back from your thoughts and you moan, squeezing him inside your pussy. “Want you to cum for me, Maritus.” You order, sliding your free hand up his chest.

He groans, his thrusts stutter and he starts to give himself over to your command. Life with you has been so rewarding, so free. He has done nothing more than drink wine and have sex with you. Feeling more relaxed than he ever believed possible. The emperors had truly blessed him when they had forced the marriage and he can only hope that he had treated you well enough that you look on your union favorably. Every day he has spent with you has brought you closer to his once guarded heart and he knows that he would die for you. Having fallen for you sometime between the hours spent in bed and the conversations you have while you indulge in your hobbies. Often you would sit outside under a shaded tree and watch while he trains in the courtyard. Making him proud when you later attack him and beg him to fuck you after he is done and his sparring partners have been dismissed. It makes him think of a simpler life, leaving the army and moving out of the city to work a small farm. Leaving the intrigues of Rome behind.

You slide your hand up to caress his cheek, his grip on your hand tightening as he pulses inside you, painting your walls with his seed. “Marcus.” You whisper, wanting to tell him how you feel. You believed him to be a heartless brute from the stories you’d heard about the general but he’s shown you nothing but kindness. He’s funny, he’s smart, and he is loyal to Rome. Not her Emperors, but the Empire and you admire that. You know he risks his life trying to associate with the senators to try and quell the Emperors’ need for more land, more blood. You don’t want to betray him any longer. Tomorrow, you’ll go to the palace and try to end the task you’ve been given. You can no longer betray the man you love. He turns his head to kiss your palm and you offer him a loving smile, wanting to spend the rest of your life like this.

Marcus pulls out of you gently and rolls to his back, pulling you against him. He has learned that you enjoy the closeness after sex. The lazy conversation that can be shared after you are exhausted. Your last husband cared little about your thoughts and he can only wonder how foolish Gracchus was. You are far more insightful than anyone would believe, brains behind your beauty matching most of the officers under him. “You enjoy your baths, but have you always wanted to live in the city?” He asks, his fingers stroking your spine slowly.

You caress his chest as you throw your leg over his, enjoying the closeness. “Not always. I’ve imagined a little farm in the country. Growing my own fruits and vegetables, maybe even some vines to make wine. Peace and quiet and away from the hustle of the city. When I married Gracchus, I was barely grown, and I imagined having children and watching them run free in the country.” You confess, “what about you? Your position in the city is close to the gods. Only the emperors and senate sit above you. Would you ever give up that power?”

He hums, happy that you are sharing with him. “I am weary of it.” He confesses quietly. “I have never wanted power, fame or adulation. I want to live simply. Quietly.” He had hoped to save for a little farm when he was married to his first wife, but he had given up those dreams when she died. Now that yearning was starting to build inside him again. “Would you be happy to live that way with me? Without children?”

You smile, leaning in to kiss his jaw, “I’d follow you anywhere. With or without children.” You vow, “if you wish to leave Rome, I will be by your side.” You promise and he turns his head to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth and you moan at the way he devours you. “Insatiable.” You tease when you feel his hand trailing up your thigh to your cum slicked folds. “For you, always.” He promises and you giggle as he flips you onto your back, a growl escaping his lips. 

****

You are reading a scroll outside under the olive tree, watching Marcus as he trains, and you turn your head when Antonia comes into the garden with a scroll. “Matronae, your presence is required at the baths.” She says your code and you sigh, shifting to stand after you hand her the scroll. Marcus pauses his training to look over at you, “Maritus, I will be heading to the baths.” You declare and he sets his sword down, striding over to you to cup your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. “Be careful.” He demands and you nod, pecking his lips as you step back and Antonia follows you when you enter the villa to prepare to leave.

Marcus sighs and reaches for the cloth to wipe his sweat away. “We are finished for today.” He decides, suddenly restless and uneasy about you leaving the villa. He’s not a man who ignores gut feelings so he decides that he will change and go out. If he happens to be near the baths that you frequent, it will be a coincidence.

You glance around the street as you make your way down the cobbled streets that lead to the baths before you’ll detour to the palace. You look over your shoulder, feeling like someone is following you and Antonia will wait at the baths to keep your cover. She doesn’t know what you’re doing but she keeps your secrets. You turn your head back to the street and moments later, your coin purse is grabbed from your belt and you are shoved to the ground. You hiss, hands grabbing your belt to stop them from robbing you but the man slaps your face, causing you to cry out. You keep hold on the coins and the man hits you again, grabbing your arms and you know he’s bruised you with his grip. He wrestles you as he grabs your belt and yanks, desperate to get the pouch of coins from your body. You scream for help, trying to slap the man and Antonia jumps on him but he swings her off and she hits the ground with a thud, a dazed look on her face.

The moment Marcus hears the scream, he knows his gut is right. The hood over his head is thrown back when he breaks into a sprint down the street. Citizens and slaves alike turn towards the sound, but Marcus ignores them, turning the corner to see a man on top of you, drawing his hand back to hit you. “Arghhhhhhh!” His screaming war cry distracts the man, giving him time to tackle him off of you in a red hazed fury. Enraged that someone would dare attack his wife, Marcus Acacius begins to hit him, over and over again.

You scramble to sit up, your body aching as Marcus hunches over the man, hitting him over and over. The crowd watches in shock and you are frozen as you witness your husband’s ferocity in person. He hits the man over and over until blood is pooling on the cobbled street and you scramble to stand, swaying as you approach slowly. “Marcus. Marcus. Maritus. Please -” You collapse back to the floor, your body aching as you struggle to stand and Antonia crawls to you as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your servant's cry is what breaks through the focused rage. Turning to see you pass out and he immediately abandons his task. Dropping the unconscious man back to the cobblestones to scramble over to you. “Uxor.” His bruised and bloodied hands are gentle as he cradles you, scooping you up into his arms. “Get a hippocrates.” He demands, his eyes filled with rage that you have been hurt. ���Have them come at once.” He turns and starts to run back up the streets, carrying you back towards the villa.nmm

Marcus carries you through the streets and your head lolls as you regain consciousness in his arms. "Maritus?" You whisper, head throbbing and he stops walking to look at you in his arms. "You're awake." He murmurs, "we must get you home. A hippocrates will be there soon." He promises and you nod, closing your eyes again as he carries you until you're set down on the bench in the entrance of Marcus's villa.

Soon the servants are scrambling, fetching cool water and clothes when he orders them to. The wine is brought and he urges you to open your eyes and drink some, knowing you must be in pain. “What happened?” He asks, ignoring his own injuries as he starts to lift your dress to check your body.

You gulp down the wine and look at your husband, "he came from nowhere. He - he wanted my coins. From my belt. He was trying - he hit me. Over and over. Threw Antonia. Where's Antonia? Is she okay?" You demand and your servant steps forward looking worse for wear but okay. "I am fine, matronae." She promises and you sigh in relief. "He slapped me and pushed me down. I wouldn't let him take the coin and he was hitting me until you came and Marcus, oh carissima." You gasp, looking at his bloodied knuckles.

You reach for his head but he shakes his head, “I am fine.” He insists, knowing that he has been through much worse. A few busted knuckles is nothing compared to battle. “Where do you hurt, uxor?” He asks softly, wanting to make sure that the hippocrates examines you thoroughly.

"My head and my back. That's where he hit me. He was - I was so shocked. I should've fought harder." You shake your head and Marcus cups your cheeks to examine the tender skin from the hits to your face. Luckily the bastard didn't break the skin. "You were brave. Most would've simply given him the coins." He murmurs and you nod, wincing when his thumb presses against your tender flesh.

“I should have killed him.” Marcus growls. “The guards will hold him, but I will have to go speak to them about your attack.” He won’t leave you until you are being examined, unless you want him to stay. “I should have sent one of my guards with you.” He murmurs guiltily.

Your eyes meet his guilty ones, “do not think that way. I have never been attacked before and I had Antonia. You did nothing wrong. I will wait for the Hippocrates.” You murmur, knowing he wants to go speak with your attacker.

He is stubborn, staying with you until the man he had summoned is ushered into the villa. “She was attacked.” He explains. “I want her examined and treated. Nothing is to be overlooked.” He leans down and presses his lips to yours briefly. “I will leave you to his care and return shortly.”

You nod and watch Marcus leave your rooms as the man asks you what happened. "I was attacked. The man hit me over the head several times and pushed me to the ground." You reveal and the hippocrates asks you to remove your tunic so he can inspect your injuries. "Your husband wishes for nothing to be overlooked." He says and you wince as he pushes on your lower back where you fell. He asks you several questions and you pause when he asks when you last bled. You frown, counting until you realize you have missed your bleed. "It could be the stress of the marriage and moving and-" The hippocrates hums, "perhaps but you must be careful in case you are with child. We shall wait and see if you miss your bleed again." You nod, knowing you must take care and you slide your hand down to your stomach as the hippocrate applies a salve to your tender aches. You redress after the hippocates leaves and you are confronted by palace guards. "You are being summoned to the palace." Antonia tells you and you nod, wincing as you take your cloak and let the guards escort you to the palace. Marcus is not there to argue your presence and no one says no to the emperors.

Marcus watches as the guards bring the criminal into the cell, smirking at the swollen features of the man. “You fucked up.” He tells the poor bastard. “You assumed to rob a noble woman, not realizing who she was married to.” The man whimpers, both from his injuries and the implication behind the words. “Who does she belong to?” He scoffs, trying to appear like it makes no difference to him. The guard holding his shackles chuckles. “You beat Marcus Acacius’s wife.” He tells him.

You arrive at the palace, guided to the room to wait for the emperors and you bow your head when they stride inside. “Ah, we heard news that you were attacked and your husband protected you. That is why you did not arrive. We trust you are well.” Geta says and you nod, “tender and bruised but not gravely.” You declare and they smile, nodding, “we are glad to hear that but we want to hear news of your husband. We hear that he met with Senator Brutus.” Caracalla tilts his head and you raise your chin, “I will no longer speak of my husband’s meetings.” You declare and Geta raises his eyebrows. “Excuse me?” You clench your sore jaw, “I will not speak of my husband’s affairs any longer.” You announce and Caracalla laughs, throwing his head back. “The insolence.” He spits after his smile drops. “I love him. I do not wish to betray his trust any longer.” You say defiantly and Caracalla growls, “you cunt. We are going to have you killed for your treason.” He hisses and you stand tall despite your heart pumping. “No, no. We gain nothing by killing her. Let’s invite her maritus to witness her betrayal.” Geta smirks and you gasp, “no. No. He can’t know.” You plead and Geta smirks, gesturing to his guard, “chain her and send someone for Marcus Acacius.”

Marcus watches as the criminal starts to cry, begging for his life as he contemplates the punishment for this man. He should have him killed, but in truth, the man is less than a plebeian, begging and scrapping by for survival. A result of the emperors foolish taxes to support their war mongering. Because his wife was the victim, he can choose the punishment. “He will serve in the army.” Marcus decides. “Since he has a need to plunder, he can do so in the name of Rome.” He doesn’t believe the man would survive long, but he will have food and a bed until he does die in battle. “General.” The cell door opens. “The Emperors demand your attendance at once.” The head guard for the Emporers is the one speaking, making Marcus wonder what has happened now.

You are shackled when Marcus arrives, striding into the hall and his brow furrows when he sees you chained. “What is the meaning of this? She’s injured.” He growls at the emperors who had waited for him to arrive. “Your dear wife has a secret.” Caracalla grins manically, clapping his hands. Marcus frowns, “secret? We have none.” Geta smirks, “oh she does. She’s been spying on you. Delivering details of your meetings directly to us. You see, we were concerned about your influence in the army, we wanted to ensure you were not planning a coup. Your dissatisfaction with our regime has not gone amiss and we know you have been vocal about this with the senators. We simply had to take precautions to maintain our status in the empire. We had your precious uxor spy on you. We ordered her to marry you and she has delivered on our orders until today. Today she suddenly has loyalty to you.” Geta scoffs and Caracalla rolls his eyes.

His brow furrows when he hears the accusations and his eyes find yours, stomach twisting when he sees the guilt and truth of their words in your eyes. “Marcus, please-“ he turns his head, his heart twisting, ignoring your plea as he faces the two emperors. If they know the conversations he has been having, he is dead anyway. “Rome is crumbling beneath our sandals.” He implores them. “The weight of the campaigns is heavy. Today, she was attacked by a man who can no longer afford to feed himself because of the taxes imposed for the war chest.” He doesn’t look over at you. “The poorest of Rome suffer heavily.”

You watch Marcus condemn himself and you shake your head. The Emperors stare at him and you swallow harshly. “You shouldn’t have - Marcus.” You whisper and Geta stares at him while Caracalla growls. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t - I didn’t want to but they threatened me and I- I love you. I never wanted to do this.” You promise with a cry.

Marcus doesn’t look over at you, waiting for his Emperors to determine his fate. Gets curls his lips into a cruel smile and claps his hands together. “I have the best idea for his punishment.” He cackles. “He will compete in the gladiatorial games!” His wide eyes swing towards you. “And she shall watch!”

Your eyes widen, “no. No. You cannot do that. I am the one who betrayed him. I am the one who refuses to continue spying. Don’t let him- he is a good general. He’s fought hard for you. Please. Take me. Don’t let him fight.” You plead on Marcus’s behalf.

They wouldn’t listen to you anyway, they never listen, but Marcus shakes his head. “If the emperors wish for my life to be fought for in the arena, then they will have their amusement.” He answers them, making them smirk as their personal guards surround him.

You shake your head, tears in your eyes as Marcus is dragged off and so are you. Taken in opposite directions and you are pushed into a cell, shackled, and you sob for your husband. For the life you loved with him that is now gone. Even if he survives the arena, he won’t want you. You have betrayed him. You don’t know how long you’re in the cell with nothing but dirty water until the cell door is opened and you’re dragged out by the guards.

“We cannot have you looking like a prisoner.” Caracalla titters as he smirks at your dirty and disheveled appearance when you are brought in front of him and Geta. “So we must clean you up.” He snaps his fingers and a female servant appears. “Wash her. Dress her in robes that will hide the chains.” He orders. “You will be sitting with us, isn’t that fantastic?” He asks. “The best view in the house as your dear Marcus fights for his life.” He tilts his head. “And yours.” He adds menacingly. 

You are numb as you are cleaned and scrubbed by the servant, dressed in a clean tunic and she wipes your tears after she hides the chains beneath your robes. “It’s time.” The guard declares as he opens the doors and you try to swallow the lump in your throat. You ride to the Colosseum with tears stinging your eyes and you’re dragged up to the balcony where the Emperors are sitting on gold thrones, matching manic grins on their faces. “So glad you could join us.” Geta chuckles and you are pushed into a seat beside him, your chains rattling but hidden. You refrain from glaring at him, clenching your fists, and the crowd roars as Marcus walks out onto the sands. Your breath catches and you want to close your eyes, pretend this is a nightmare. “And who is my husband fighting? What man could match my husband’s skills?” You ask the Emperor and Caracalla chuckles, “not man. Men.” You inhale sharply as four men walk onto the sands.

The armor that he wears is his own, the subtle needling of the emperors’ visible to the crowds but unknown to all but those he had conspired with. The message that even an honored general of Rome, a man who had spent his life fighting for her glory, was not immune to the will of her emperors. Turning to the stands, it is easy to spot Geta and Caracalla, both of them laughing and drinking, merrily watching men fight to the death. His eyes find you, the horror written on your face making him pause as he brings his sword up over his heart, signaling his fealty to Rome. He turns and honors the men who will be fighting him, knowing that they have no choice in their fight and accepting that they will do their best to kill him. He had always known he would fall on a battlefield, he had just never assumed it would happen in the Colosseum.

Your heartbeat is deafening in your own ears as you watch the men rush towards Marcus, his sword swinging within seconds and you are terrified that he’s going to be killed. Your battle worn husband has fought many during his life but you worry he will die today in Rome, the Roman people witnessing his death. A symbol that even a great general can be taken down. “Please. He didn’t do anything. He’s fought hard for you.” You beg Geta, who scoffs, “by conspiring with others?” You shake your head, “to protect Rome and her people. Not against you.” You plead your husband’s case but it falls on deaf ears as your husband takes one man down.

This is needless. Marcus pants, gripping his sword firmly as the next man attacks. Crimson spilling from the man in the dirt and being mixed into a bloody paste as the general blocks the lunge, his foot shuffling back and he almost trips over the body.

You gasp when he stumbles and one of the men swipes his arm, cutting him. “Marcus.” You whimper, not wanting to scream and distract him. He grunts and swings back, the man crying out when his arm is chopping off. “Please, maritus.” You beg, needing Marcus to win.

Another man rushes him while the man he had just injured drops his sword to grab the bleeding appendage. Causing him to shift focus and move to the other man, grunting out when he grabs the man’s arm as he swings his sword down and shoves his own blade into the gladiator’s belly. Watching as his eyes widen when the pain registers and he realizes he will die on the hot sands.

You gasp when he has one man left to kill. The Emperors frown and clap as expected when Marcus takes down another opponent. The remaining man swipes at him again and you are on the edge of your seat as you watch your husband fight for his life.

The last gladiator is obviously the most skilled. He was smart too, using the other men to exhaust Marcus as he fought for hard minutes at a time with little break between attacks. The days of little water and no food leaving the general much weaker than he would be under normal circumstances, no doubt planned by the emperors to make sure that he falls today. Marcus barely jumps back in time from a swipe of the sword, the tip dragging across the armor covering his stomach and he feels his resolve weakening. There is no point to continue.

You choke when the sword cuts close to his stomach and you stand up, yanking on the chains that bind you. You try to walk towards the balcony but you stumble. “Marcus! Marcus! You must fight, Maritus. Fight for us! For our baby!” You shout, pleading with him to fight for his life.

The roar of the crowd is loud but he hears your voice. The shouting cuts through the din and he stumbles back, turning to look at the balcony where you are watching. Your eyes are wide and frantic as you scream again. This time he hears what you are saying. Our baby. Our baby. You are pregnant. His mind is reeling when he hears this, ducking down from the next attack on instinct alone to be brought back into the fight.

You watch as he has more energy, spurred on by your words, and Caracalla growls, “sit the fuck down.” He demands and you refuse, remaining standing as you watch your husband swing his sword. His opponent is skilled but younger and Marcus has your future in his hands as he swings his sword. Swiping the man who cries out, Marcus grunts as he kicks at the leg of the man, making him fall. He moves fast, swinging his sword to behead the man. You scream in joy as the man’s head rolls, knowing that Marcus has saved you.

You try to scramble to the emperors but your chains keep you in place. “Please spare him. He’s won. He’s won.” You beg and Geta gestures for Marcus to come to the balcony. He bows his head, knowing he will be ordered to be killed soon after, and he makes his way up to the balcony. You swallow harshly and you want to reach for him when he walks past you to stand before the emperors, bowing his head before he lifts it to clench his jaw in defiance. “You have beaten men who should have killed you. You have won.” Geta declares and reaches towards Marcus’s belt, taking his blade from the sheath and he presses it against his neck. Marcus hisses as blood drips from the cut, his lip curling. “Please.” You whimper, wanting your husband to survive. “You will leave Rome today. Disappear and take your uxor. If we hear a word of betrayal, you will be killed before you even realize it. Do you understand?” Geta hisses while Caracalla shakes his head, wanting blood.

“I understand.” Marcus murmurs quietly. “I will leave Rome.” He knows that he cannot risk your life and that of a potential child, if you are indeed pregnant. He is weary and just wants to get away from the Emperors. His eyes cut towards the men, his disgust for them clear.

You watch as Geta lowers the knife and sheaths it back in Marcus’s belt. He looks over at the guard and nods for him to release you. The shackles fall to the floor with a clang and you rush over to Marcus, cupping his cheeks to make sure he’s okay. “Take your traitor wife and leave Rome today otherwise you’ll be killed.” Geta promises and you nod, caressing Marcus’s cheek.

Marcus doesn’t trust the other men to keep their word, but he nods. Letting the guards guide you off the balcony and he reaches for his knife when he is out of the Emperor’s presence. “Maritus-“ you murmur but Marcus cuts you off. “Be quiet.” He hisses, knowing that you are not out of danger yet. A shift of armor could be the only clue an attack from the guards is coming and he needs to be alert.

You cling to him as he escorts you out of the colosseum to the awaiting chariot that is waiting to take you back to Marcus’s villa so you can pack your things. You are helped onto the villa and you swallow harshly, “I am so sorry.” You choke out and he shakes his head, “not here.” He says still not comfortable that you’re safe and you nod, reaching for his arm.

Because of his training, Marcus is efficient packing up. He completely takes over and gives orders to the servants while he drags you towards the private quarters where you can be alone.

Your wrists are sore from the shackles as Marcus stands in front of you. Both of you are worse for wear. You are covered in dirt, him in blood as you stand in front of him.

He stares at you, wondering if any of the time you had spent together was real or if it was all to get him to relax around you. “Are you pregnant?” He asks finally, needing to know if you were just bargaining for your life and praying it would sway the emperors.

You reach for him but he takes a step back, “I- I think so. I’ve missed my bleed and I- I never do. I think I might be.” You say softly, not wanting to lie to him.

His jaw clenches and he nods. “Then we will see if you are before we decide where we will go permanently.”

You nod, “I- I know you’re angry that I betrayed you but I- I went to the palace to tell them that I was done telling them your secrets. I didn’t want to - I never wanted to betray you but they threatened me and I couldn’t do it anymore because I love you. I’m in love with you, Maritus.” You confess, eyes wide as you prepare for his rejection.

Marcus wants to deny you. To call you a liar but he doesn’t see lies in your eyes. Maybe he is a fool, because you have already betrayed him, but he believes you. “Are you not just saving your neck now?” He asks, wanting to be sure. “I have nothing now. No power, no prestige. If you go back to your Emperors and beg for mercy, maybe they will give you to another man.” You move closer to him again and he doesn’t step back.

You shake your head, “I don’t want another man. I want my husband. I want you.” You promise, “I love you, Marcus, and I know - I know you are still mourning your first wife, your love, but I want you to know how I feel, Maritus.” You murmur, caressing his cheek.

“I stopped mourning my first wife.” Marcus admits. “When I asked you if you imagined always living in Rome.” He hears the servants rushing around to pack up the household, but he doesn’t move, staring at you. “I was asking to see if you would move away with me. Before this. Before we were exiled.”

You nod, “before this…I would’ve followed you anywhere. I love you, Marcus. I never imagined when the emperors ordered for me to marry you that I’d fall in love with you. I’d follow you anywhere.” You promise breathlessly.

“I have no trust in you.” Marcus admits, watching your face fall, biting your lip as you nod. “But I know you were trying to survive the whims of our Emperors.” He steps closer to you. “And I will not let you suffer for that.” He promises, lifting his good arm to trail his fingers up your arm. “I love you, uxor. We will leave Rome and make our home somewhere else, away from the intrigue and betrayal of this festering city.” He smiles. “Perhaps we will have your dream of children running in the sunshine.”

You smile, imagining children running in the fields while you spend your days with Marcus in the sun without worry of the politics of Rome. You lean in to kiss his lips. “I know you don’t trust me but I want to earn your trust.” You murmur and he nods, “let us find a new home. Together.” He declares and you lean in to softly kiss him. 

****

“Maritus.” You moan, caressing his shoulders as you rock on top of him, your bump between you. “Uxor.” He groans, his hands sliding down your back as you ride his cock. “I love you.” You moan, “so much.”

The villa around you is still being cleaned and repaired, abandoned for such a long time but it will be worth it when it’s restored to it former glory. The fields outside are fertile and the bones of the home are sturdy. After the fire years ago, it had been left to let the vines overgrow. Perhaps it was fate that you and Marcus are settling and creating a family where Maximus’s was taken from him, but the former general just thought it was the gods way of finding balance. “I love you.” He promises breathless as he rocks his hips up gently.

You moan, getting closer and closer to your orgasm as you rock on top of him. His cock thrusts up into you and you cry out, falling apart as you soak him. You clench down around his cock and fall into his chest, your bump pressed against him. “Fill me up, Marcus.” You plead, wanting to feel it, feel him.

He chuckles softly, puffing out the sound as he works himself in and out of your cunt towards his own satisfaction. “It’s obvious I’ve done that.” He grunts, loving how your walls tighten around him. The baby will come soon and he prays to all the gods that they will spare you and the child. “Fuck.” He grunts, pushing deep and painting your walls with ropes of cum as he moans your name.

You run your fingers through his hair as he relaxes beneath you and you sigh, “te amo.” You murmur and he caresses your back while the moon shines through the linen on the balcony. 

****

Your screams echo in the halls as you bear down. You are in agony, Antonia pressing a wet rag to your forehead as you push. The women of the household surround you as you labor. “Gods!” You curse as you grip the sheets. It feels like hours of pushing and you’re exhausted. “One more push!” Antonia demands and you sob, shaking your head as you push and finally, the pressure releases and a cry fills the air.

As soon as the baby’s cry rings out, Marcus cannot stop himself. Pushing the doors to the bedchamber open, he rushes inside, his hair sticking up from long hours pacing and running his hands through it, worrying about your fate. “Uxor!” He only has eyes for you and the small little bundle you are taking from Antonia. Your face is drenched in sweat and you’ve never looked more beautiful.

You look up from the baby in your arms, a grin on your face as your husband rushes over. “It’s a boy.” You murmur, checking all fingers and toes are in place. Marcus grins, leaning in to kiss your sweaty forehead. “You’re incredible, amor.” He murmurs and you tilt your head to kiss him softly. The cord is cut and Marcus takes the baby in his arms, needing to claim him. He holds him up to the servants and says “My son.” He proclaims, cradling his son and he leans in to kiss you again. “Our son.” He says and you smile, taking the baby after he slides him back into your arms so you can have skin to skin. “What shall we call him?” You ask Marcus who leans over to kiss your son’s forehead before he kisses yours. “Maximus Acacius.” He declares and you grin, “it’s perfect.” A new life in a place that held such pain. Your marriage may have been arranged by the emperors but your life together is fuelled by love and by choice.

[syrupfog]

Luffy grew up with two brothers who, at first, hated him and kicked the shit out of him. Then, eventually, loved him and who expressed that love through kicking the shit out of him. 

Luffy's grown up with a low level of violence as love his whole life. 

His crew is the same, from very early on. Nami will beat on anyone (or at least any of the boys), and Zoro's been known to land a punch to the back of his head at every dumb remark he makes. 

And Sanji... his kicks are INTENSE. 

Luffy's lucky he's made of rubber.

and he laughs it all off-- because it's FUNNY. He knows his crew loves him, they're his CREW. He knows his brothers loved him, they're his BROTHERS. Luffy has always known violence as a form of love, although notably he rarely reflects that methodology onto others.

When Luffy meets Law the first time, Law watches as Luffy punches a Celestial Dragon in the face. That violence is, obviously, NOT a form of love. 

When Luffy meets Law the second time, it's when Law is saving his life, doing impossible levels of knitting him back together.

Luffy doesn't remember a lot of that bit, or the bit right after, on Amazon Lily, when the grief is at its strongest. 

But then, two years later, he sees Law again on Punk Hazard, and they form an alliance, and Luffy declares that Law is a good guy. 

No one else agrees.

But when has Luffy ever cared about other peoples' opinions? Now certainly isn't the time to start. Law gave all those pirates new legs. He saved Luffy. He's good. 

and then Law is travelling with them, aboard the Sunny. 

And he's mean and grouchy and short tempered and, again, everyone is wary of him. 

Luffy's not, of course, because that's just how Law is, but he's confused. 

Because no matter how many times Law snaps or yells or threatens to slice people apart, he's never violent. He doesn't throw punches or kick or draw his sword.

Which does make Luffy wonder if he's done something wrong, that Law doesn't feel like he can be free with Luffy, to go after him when he says something stupid. Everyone else does, is it because he's the captain? But Law's captain too, and they're in an alliance, they're equal.

But he doesn't say anything on it-- and even in Dressrosa, when Law tries to tell him the alliance is over, Luffy knows he wouldn't attack him even if he could. And it's confusing. He couldn't count the amount of times Ace landed a punch on him just for waking him up wrong.

After all that is said and done, and they land on Zou, and Luffy meets the Heart Pirates in all their glory, all twenty of them, he doesn't know if he gets more confused or less. 

The Heart Pirates LOVE their captain (as they should, Traffy is great!) and clearly would do anything for him, starting with those dorky poses they strike. And they yell at him for abandoning them, but they don't get violent with Law, and doesn't get violent with them. He sort of just... lets them yell at him and then talks over them. 

It's weird.

This isn't a thought that keeps Luffy up at night so much as it's a thought that he returns to whenever he looks at Law, reclining as his crew tries to get him to talk about what happened, or whenever Luffy's getting literally kicked out of the kitchen by Sanji.

It's a fact that Luffy puzzles on even in Wano, as Law is passively letting Luffy ruin every plan and then announcing that he planned FOR Luffy to ruin every plan. 

He doesn't hit Luffy for ruining his plan. He doesn't even elbow him in the side.

Before Luffy had seen Law with his own crew on Zou, he had thought that maybe Law didn't really like him. But after seeing Law interacting with his crew, he started to reevaluate. Law loves his crew, and although he threatens to use his Room on them (and maybe sometimes he does), that's not a violent thing. They can pop back together like Kin'emon did. 

But Luffy wonders-- what does it mean to be close with someone without feeling the freedom to get physical with them? 

He wonders this and doesn't have an answer, because that's never been his world.

And of course, what Luffy doesn't know, is that Law grew up with that violence. Had those formative years with Doflamingo, where he was taught to fight and lived with a family who was just as violent as Luffy's own. He was full of hatred and happily took it out on people.

And the only difference was Cora-- who at first was just as violent, to be fair, throwing him out a window and all that. 

But Cora who saw him as someone that could be saved, who sacrificed everything from his mission to his life, to give Law freedom of a different kind— the freedom of gentleness. The freedom that comes from being able to live for yourself. The freedom that comes from being loved enough that the one who loves you gave it all up for you. 

He gave Law everything he had, and he held him tight and told him it would all be okay.

And it wasn't, because Cora's gone, but Law took that love and internalized it, and from the very start the first thing he does is save Bepo from being hurt. 

He gathers a crew little by little and does so by giving them second chances like he was given, and gives them safety— including physical safety. Because separating himself from Doflamingo and that hatred means also separating himself from that senseless violence that comes from growing up in organized crime. 

Law's crew respects him because, despite his prickly exterior, he's stoically kind.He's using his fruit to help and to heal-- even when he gives those pirate hearts to the marines, did he kill them? Debatable. 

Law has worked hard to excise that violence from his life, and Luffy can see that even when no one else on his crew seems to notice.

And Luffy doesn't know why-- doesn't understand it-- but god it makes him smile wide when he sees Law snap at someone and knows that he can trust that Law won't hurt. 

It's like having a wild animal, capable of destruction, lay lazily at your feet.

Luffy wants that. It's an addicting feeling, to feel safe in that way. 

He loves his crew and he loves his brothers and he's made of rubber-- they couldn't hurt him, wouldn't hurt him. 

But the secret gentle kindness of Law is addicting.

[xazse]

im begging anyone LITERALLY ANYONE to write any sort of wanderer x reader x xiao love triangle (either poly amorous or not), i love thinking about what their impressions of each other would be and how they would go about trying to one up the other guy (since i feel like there would be an intense feeling of rivalry between the two)!!

I know you JUST submitted this but I had to write abt this. Dont worry to my other requests I will get to you my loves!

FEM!READER WITH BOOBS

Xiao and Scaramouche don’t really get along when it comes to you, they’re always at each others throat about who gets to be balls deep in you or who gets your pretty lips wrapped around their cocks.

They make it a habit to get you alone, Xiao not very talkative will seduce you with his actions: bringing you whatever you want or making you whatever you want, anything to get you in the mood.

Scaramouche just outright declared what he wants, he wants you on your knees, back arched and ready to go? He’ll immediately let you know. He wants you to jerk him off right in the living room, not caring about how loud his moans are.

Scaramouche makes it a habit to lock the bedroom door anytime he’s managed to get you alone. Who cares if Xiao comes knocking at the door speaking about how much he needs you, ignore him!

Xiao doesn’t play like he does, he’s a bit sweeter and more mature, if he gets you alone he’ll let Scaramouche in but won’t allow him your cunt, thats fair at least in his eyes.

One day they’re both messily kissing all over you, saliva decorating your skin creating a thin layer. Kuni is inbetween your thighs, sucking on your nipples or has been for the past couple of minutes, Xiao is underneath you, holding you softly and attacking your neck, you can feel both their throbbing lengths pulsing against you, so needy and all for you.

Xiao maneuvers his hands to pull his underwear down just a little to free his thick cock, you can’t see with Scaramouche blocking your view but you know he’s dribbling lots of precum, you’ve been insistent that you needs lots of prep for what reason they don’t know.

He’s stroking himself slowly, not wanting to cum early, he’s been begging to cum inside all day, so has kuni, you know if you let one go before the other it’ll cause issues so you’ll take both of them just to not hear bickering all night.

You urge Scara to take his cock out as well, a little clouded and with lusty eyes he takes out his veiny long cock, also beginning to stroke himself. Impatient as he is, he hurriedly rips off your panties: you’ll definitely scold him for that later.

He says he can’t wait any longer and begs for your permission, you give him a nod and he’s already pushing the blunt tip in your wet hole, you can hear Xiao already needily whining in protest but you’re quick to grab his cock at an awkward position and push his cock in as well.

They’re both taken aback but don’t ask you to stop, the feeling of their cocks brushing up against one another definitely isn’t unwanted, this paired with your gummy walls feels so fucking good. They can both feel each other cocks twitching which in turn makes for some pretty noise leave their lips. You aren’t fairing any better, feeling full and also amazing, your head lulls to the side, Xiao takes it upon himself to decorate your face with kisses.

When they start moving it’s just a different story, they move in tandem, thick cocks creating friction and making you wetter by the second, your cunt clamps down on them every interval.

You can all really feel each other, every stroke provides you lot with more and more ecstasy, Xiao is the first to cum with a Loud yelp that settles into a low cry, Scaramouche is still pushing and dragging his cock along your walls and Xiao’s cock. He realizes that he can’t pull out until Kuni finishes, so he’s stuck whining and biting your ear until then. Scaramouche rubs your soaked clit in fast circles, admiring how you twitch and fumble around as your body accepts what’s about to happen.

He also pries your thighs all the way open, still fucking into you until that familiar spasm in his stomach signals to himself that he’s dumping his thick load right into you. Still rubbing your clit you cum but not without squirting just a tiny bit, it’s still something.

They both manage to pull out, Xiao is out like a light and Scara flops beside you on the bed, open mouthed panting and already opening his mouth to brag about how he made you squirt, they both did but you won’t ruin his high just yet.

[chastiefoul]

mischievous streak | neuvilette

just another day of you pining over neuvilette and poor wriothesley has to hear all about it. (dw neuvilette makes an appearance!!) fluff. crack. this one is so unserious. 0.7k words

“and when he said ‘oratrice mecanique d'analyse’ did you hear it, wrio?” you swooned, another day of fanning over the iudex of fountaine to your best friend,  wriothesley.

“did you?” the duke replied increduosly, as if not really getting the reason why that was the part you’re fawning over. “oh and when he declared ‘guilty’ verdict with such conviction and charisma to that person, i wished that was me.” you went on, the conversation was most definitely one-sided.

“...you wished that you’re in a court and getting a ‘guilty’ verdict?” he blinked, not knowing how to react when the things you’re saying gets more insane as each day passed. “well not really, but i am certainly guilty. guilty for wanting to climb him like a-“

wriothesley cut you off with an exaggerated cough.

“you finish that sentence and i’m sending you to the authorities.” you crossed your arm, “you’re the authorities.” he sighed, “yes and i’m not above putting cuffs on you and throw you to one of the cell.”

you gasped, “you wouldn’t. you’d put me in jail because of love?”

“insanity is what you are, (y/n). seriously, just talk to him.” he picked up his cup of tea wanting to take another sip. “and what do i say, that i’ve been in love with him since forever and that i’d give him a limb in exchange for a date?”

“sure. or, you could say you want to get to know him a little better, and ask him out for some lunch?” he said, his pen not stopping on checking the piling documents on his table. “but that’s like super obvious!” you retorted.

“and saying you’d give him one of your limb isn’t...?” he gave you a side-eye before getting back to his paper. “hmm, fair point.” you tapped your chin with your finger. “but he doesn’t seem like the type who’d just go out with anyone, no? i don’t think i’ve ever seen him with someone,” you claimed, thinking back to all the times you passed him accidentally by remembering his schedules.

“you’re right, but i don’t think that’s by his choice though. i think some people just got really intimidated by the idea of casually hanging out with the iudex of fountaine.” he shrugged. “what?! that’s not fair, even though he’s really kind hearted?”

the man in front of you gave you a mocking smile. “yeah, and you’d know hm? since you hang out with him so much,” he teased. “i don’t like you, you’re attacking me for no reason.” you grumbled. wriothesley just chuckled good naturedly before you continued.

“gosh but seriously, he should have someone by his side, don’t you think? someone’s who’s supportive, who will stand by him no matter what. you know, someone like me? i would treat him so good. i would make him food all day, draw him a bubble bath-“

a cough cut you off, you’d think it’s wriothesley and his unwillingness to hear your sincerity about your feelings towards neuvilette, but when you see that his expression was just as startled, you shut your lips.

both of you turned your heads to the end of the stairs and there he is.

neuvilette.

yes, the very one you’ve been crushing on since forever, oh and did i mention you just said you’d draw him a bubble bath?

the tip of his ears was visibly rosy, as he looked like he tried so hard not to look embarrassed or even phased. “i was let in by the guard, i didn’t realize there is another guest.”

you closed your eyes, counting slowly to three because perhaps it would be able to turn back time, even just a little. wriothesley was just covering his mouth, and you’d bet the other limb you have that he’s currently trying his harderst to hold back a laugh.

this is a situation. a situation you need to diffuse fast with your quick thinking.

you turned to wriothesley. “that’s why i said duke, not only you don’t need to reduce my sentence, please don’t let me out from this jail forever. i would endanger the civilians. thank you for your time duke wriothesley, i am now going to go back to my cell.”

hearing that was just the last straw for your best friend, he laughed out loud. doubling over and all that as he clutched his stomach. after a solid two minutes of him just laughing and you facepalmed yourself, wriothesley gained his composure.

“neuvilette, meet (y/n), the all-over supervisor of the fortress of meropide.”

you glared at him before giving the long-haired man your sweetest smile.

“hello, it’s nice to finally see you down here in the flesh, monsieur neuvilette.” you nodded at him in which he replied with a slight smile. “likewise and please, just call me neuvilette.”

neuvilette gave wriothesley a document as he immediately skimmed through it. “i see, well there’s nothing here that i can give an input on better than (y/n), this is more of their expertise.” your head turned so quick as if you heard a blaring alarm. “then, i would appreciate your insight on this matter if you have the time,” neuvilette said as looked at you and there’s no way you could say no.

“of course! perhaps over lunch? it’s the right time, no?” you bounced back, now feeling excited than nervous. he chuckled at the enthusiasm as he agreed. “yes, you’re right. but perhaps you should know i’m not ready yet for someone to draw me a bubble bath after just one lunch.” he put his fist over his mouth, covering his smile. so turned out the iudex of fountaine has a mischievous streak in his personality after all.

that’s nice. not for your already beyond embarrassed state, though.

“wriothesley, just arrest me right now please.”  

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hi ! Can you do a "Stop the wedding!" with Lilia Vanrouge and Epel Felmier please? Have a nice day!

COMMENTS: Hi. I chose to follow the same format as a request with the same theme that I had already written: Rescuing You (Deuce; Jack; Floyd; Kalim)

As English is not my first language I can't write Epel's dialect/accent as I would like, but I hope it still feels accurate. 🤞

I hope you and all enjoy it 💐

CHARACTERS: Epel Felmier / Lilia Vanrouge

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Confession

WARNING: Spoilers from The Phantom Bride event and the Vignettes of the respective Cards.

WORD COUNT: An average of 500 words per character.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And they just found out that someone was you.

The only thing Epel knew was that someone had been kidnapped by a ghost or something.

When he found out that it was you who had been kidnapped and to marry that ghost, he not only panicked but also got furious! Vil and Riddle had to calm him down.

Although he wanted to be in the very first rescue group, the others ended up convincing him to stay in the last one.

Every time a rescue party failed, he would release all the frustration he had. He even went so far as to criticize Vil himself for failing.

Rook promised he wouldn't tell Vil anything because he found Epel’s display of raw feelings merveilleux.

When it was Epel's group's turn, Riddle and Rook had already fallen behind and he and Ace were almost reaching you, more ghosts appeared. Guards who mistook Epel for a princess and made him furious.

He wanted to stay behind and fight them, but he remembered that it was you they were trying to save. And if there was anyone he wanted to prove his strength and courage to the most, it wasn't those ghosts, it was you.

Instead, he convinces Ace to stay behind. Or rather, he almost threatens him to stay behind. Ace commented that, really, with all that determination maybe he should be the one to face the princess, and he stayed to fight the guards.

When he arrived at the ceremony hall he was so angry about the whole situation that he didn't even try to hide it to deceive the princess.

“Listen here ya spoiled brat!” The guards, the princess and Vil gasped! “I'm fed up and tired of this crap! Go find someone who wants to actually marry ya instead of forcin´ someone to do it and save us all the headaches?!” The ghosts turn on him, telling him how foul-mouthed he is for the way he looks. “Looks don't define who I am! And I am not sorry if I'm insulting you! I don't need to be a tall and handsome prince on a white horse to fight for the one I love!” He said it in the heat of the moment and then immediately blushed like a red apple and fell silent.

The princess was surprised by his courage and determination despite his body and appearance. Even though she said it in a way that insulted Epel. And she began to wonder if she herself would have someone who would risk themselves so much in that way for her, regardless of their fragile bodies (once again insulting more than complimenting)

The guard who is in love with her takes this opportunity to declare his love, she discovers that she also likes him after all and they marry each other.

Despite the embarrassment, Epel runs to you and stays by your side the rest of the time. However, even though he is embarrassed by the declaration of love he made to you, he is very proud of himself because he managed to save you by being himself.

Lilia was already fighting some ghosts more for fun and defense than anything else.

And he remained in a playful mood as they explained that a student had been kidnapped by the princess to marry her. That mood only changed slightly when he heard your name.

On the outside, he continued to appear unconcerned about the situation, but in his head he was already drawing up a plan of attack and conquest.

Lilia asked to be in the last group, using the excuse that they should save the best and cutest candidates for last. Epel didn't like the comment very much.

If it were anyone else, he would take the whole rescue operation as a joke, but it's YOUR life that's at risk, so that was a battle.

He used what he observed from other groups along with his experience as a war general to come up with the best plan he could.

Needless to say, part of the plan was for him to get to you, so he used his persuasive charm to convince everyone else to stay behind and stop the guards whenever necessary.

He entered the ceremonial hall slamming both doors open.

“PRINCESS! I beg you to stop this wedding! You are making a mistake!” Everyone looked at him, curious. “I completely understand you wanting to marry (Y/N). But you deserve someone on your level, someone who understands your dreams and feelings. In other words... (Y/N) is at too high a level for you.” Everyone gasped, but his expression was one of pity for the princess, even though you knew it was just one of his masks. He knew perfectly well that he was insulting her and having fun with it. “I'm sure someone like them has a much higher standard, you wouldn't be able to satisfy them. It's going to be a headache for you to spend every day trying so hard to even reach the level of someone who deserves them.” He smiles innocently. “You should choose someone more on your level. One of your guards perhaps?”

At first the princess is upset and asks how Lilia could say something like that. But then, she starts to question whether he is right about you being in fact too good for her and becomes sad.

It is at this point that the guard who is in love with her enters the conversation to console her and ends up revealing his feelings for the princess.

They realize that their love is mutual and end up marrying each other.

Lilia ends up revealing to you that his plan was to make that guard declare himself. While everyone was focusing on the princess, he realized that the real target must be someone else.

“Oh, but I was being honest all the time. I do believe you deserve better. Actually, you deserve the best. On another note, don't you think I look so charming in this outfit? Does it not make you want to take the opportunity and marry me? Khee hee hee.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

YOU WILL STOP THE WEDDING! (Ghost Marriage/The Phantom Bride theme; Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration)

Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia

[elven-child]

Don't let polish authorities protect Netanyahu

Quick context:

a petition you can sign to let them know you object:

Petition text in English:

Poland, December 2024

Open letter: an appeal for equal standards in the application of international law, addressed to the Prime Minister, the Council of Ministers of the Republic of Poland, the Minister of Foreign Affairs and the Minister of Justice

We, for whom the memory of the Holocaust is an ethical challenge, contained in the slogan "never again - for anyone, anywhere", we, who for a year have been watching with horror the massacre committed by Israel on Palestinian women and men in the Gaza Strip, attacks on residents of the West Bank, the bombing of civilians in Lebanon, we, who follow reports of inhumane torture in Israeli prisons, the killing of Palestinian journalists, healthcare workers and the UN, and Israel's blocking of humanitarian aid sent to Gaza, we, who for over a year have been watching with horror and anger the first-ever live coverage of genocide, the perpetrators of which publicly boast about their intentions and actions, we accept with hope the arrest warrant for Benjamin Netanyahu and Yoav Galant issued by the International Criminal Court. As human rights organizations have been emphasizing for years, bringing perpetrators of human rights violations to justice is one of the most important tools for restoring justice. The international community is responsible for ensuring that perpetrators learn that they are not above the law.

Therefore, we call on the government of Poland, a state that signed the Rome Statute establishing the International Criminal Court, to unequivocally declare that it will comply with the decision of the ICC and join the prosecution of those suspected of committing war crimes indicated by it. This is required by basic solidarity with the Palestinians. This is required by basic respect for human life, every life. This is what we expect from the Polish government, we citizens and residents of Poland, showing solidarity and compassion for those suffering.

At the same time, we want to emphasize that we consider identifying criticism of the criminal policies of the state of Israel with anti-Semitism to be absurd and immoral, as well as dangerous to the Jewish culture and tradition that many of us hold dear. We do not agree to reducing this culture and tradition to the policies of one state, repeatedly condemned by international organizations, human rights organizations and part of Israeli society. This would mean the squandering of Jewish heritage, about which Marek Edelman, the leader of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising and a doctor in Poland after the war, used to say that being a Jew means being on the side of the beaten and wronged. We also refuse to listen to the arguments of those who try to convince us that the power occupying, displacing and dispossessing Palestinians is a weaker party than the occupied population of the West Bank and those imprisoned and besieged in Gaza for almost two decades. We call on Israel to immediately ceasefire and hold those guilty of massacres and war crimes accountable. We call on the Polish government to comply with the ICC ruling.

We assure Palestinian sisters and brothers of our solidarity and express our dreams of freedom and peace for Palestine, freedom and peace for the whole world!

[revelboo]

Thank you for the Ugly Puppy (Waspinator) content!

me, about a grown-ass man who is also a giant robot bug: noooooo he's just a little guy!

Giant, scary wasp much bigger than you are just cowering if you come after him with a rolled up newspaper. Would probably act like he’s dying if you whacked him with it, too

Worker Bee Pt 3

IDW Waspinator x Reader

• Somehow you fell back asleep. You also nearly have a heart attack waking up to those sharp mandibles inches from your face, big purple optics wide open staring at you. Buzzing out a cheerful ‘small friend’ at you. Nope, not okay at all. “Has anyone ever explained personal space to you?” Gingerly reaching to try and push him off you, which is as effective as trying to push a truck sideways, he just tips his head.

• “No.” Your little hands are warm on his head and he leans into the touch. Until you groan and just cover your face with your hands. Whatever else you’re saying muffled, before you let your arms drop and just stare at the ceiling. Not time to get up yet, he decides, laying his head back down on your soft chest. And you make a strangled sound.

• “Nope, you gotta move.” Pushing at him more insistently until he makes an unhappy buzzing hiss and lifts up enough that you can squirm out of bed. And he immediately slumps in the warm spot you just left, wings fluttering. Skin pricking as how cold it is away from the heat of Waspinator sinks in, dread spills through you. Frowning, you head through the house. A table in the hall is broken, but it’s your front door that stops you short. Your door that’s torn out of the frame, wood splintered at the edges as snow lazily drifts inside the kitchen. “Are you kidding me?”

• His little friend’s nest is soft as he burrows under the blankets, only to lift his head when they’re yanked away. And oh, angry. You’re angry with Waspinator. Cringing down as you stare at him, an arm lifting to point down the hall. “There is snow in my kitchen and a big gaping hole where my door should be, Waspinator.” He hadn’t been able to figure out the tiny handle, but the door had come loose easily enough when he’d pulled. But like before, you don’t hit him. Don’t do anything but point. Upset, but not hurting him.

• “Fix,” he declares, moving out of your ruined bed and down the hall, insectile legs scraping the walls on both sides as you follow him. Hands trembling in anger. Trying to figure out how to get rid of your new, clingy bestie. Without provoking him, because he’s still big and scary strong. You tense when he folds in on himself and transforms to that other, slightly less unsettling form and watch him pick up the door and just prop it up in the frame. There’s a gap around it and it’s just leaning there, but he turns back to you. “Waspinator fixed.” And he sounds so stupidly proud of himself. Like he thinks he actually did a good job as your shoulders slump.

Previous

Next

[lavenlady]

✧Yan!Tfone D-16/Megatron ✧ Headcannons

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

▹ As D-16 he is a possessive and protective yandere

▹ Everyday mining , risking their lifes, he quickly understands that he may not come out of mines one day

▹ You quickly become the reason for him to return safe and sound, hating to leave you behind all alone

▹ He will then proceed to become clingy wanting more and more attention from you and as a miner it was no problem, they liked physical affection

▹ He needs to show you how important you are to him and not let anyone get in the way of your shared happiness

▹ if someone went to far, he is not afraid to stand in their way and show why he is on the top of this sector, of course he wouldn't harm them, a little warning will do

▹ He wants to cherish his time with you and protect you from harm the best and longest he can

▹ If he is not hanging around Orion - then expect to find him next to you, helping with your assigned tasks

▹ Would only trust Orion to be near you, maybe Elita One

▹ Most likely you got dragged into the mess as D-16 likes to keep you close, he is sure he can keep you safe

▹ You went to find the Matrix of leadership - What do you mean Sentinel lied to us? - He did what?!

▹ Then and only then he will become overprotective, the false prime took their cogs and freedom - your cog and freedom!

▹ He couldn't protect you properly before so now expect him to be glued to your side, afraid if he went to far, you would disappear and never come back

▹ Of course his plan goes to trash when The High Guard takes you all, he proceeds to beat Starscream and finally plans to take revenge. Sadly then Sentinel's pawns attack and capture everyone they can - including him and you

▹  He talks back to the false Prime. The branding happens and you stand up to Sentinel trying to step in to protect D-16 from harm, like any sensible cybertronian would do, but you end up knocked into the wall

▹ After that it was just a blurr - D-16 fighting Sentinel, him shooting Orion down, then more longer and brutal tearing Sentinel apart and finally declaring himself Megatron after taking Megatronus Prime's cog from the offline now mech

▹ The fight between ex-friends happens, closely followed by the banishment from Iacon

▹ Of course he can't leave you here with the new false Prime, so he will take you with him - willingly or forcefully

▹ Now he turns into overprotective, manipulative and possessive yandere, that will stop at nothing to gain your affection, protect you even by taking away your freedom, which is last resort, and make you stay with him no matter what price he would have to pay

▹ Maybe he would even take Solus Prime's cog to give you, so you would feel even closer to each other

"Do you really think they would protect you better than I do? I don't think so sweetspark."

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

(always feel free to request!)

(and art to it :3 here)

(Master list)

[steddie-island]

I Want Your Midnights

Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompts: Five, champagne, clothed sex Rating: E | WC: 832 | Tags: Getting together, first kiss, semi-public sex, declarations of love

ao3 | Divider credit

Five!

"Oh god—"

Four!

"Shhh, gonna get caught—"

Three!

"Don't stop—"

Two!

"Never— never gonna stop—"

One!

"I love you—"

They were never going to hear the end of it. They'd slipped out before the ball dropped because Steve had needed to get some fresh air.

Fresh air had turned into sharing a cigarette, had turned into joking about midnight kisses and plans for the new year. That had felt less like joking, though. Steve had known what Eddie's plans were— get the hell out of dodge, hit the road with the band. They had gigs lined up in bars that would have way more than five drunks to appreciate them.

Eddie's alleged crimes made him a target in Hawkins, but in other cities they were something that could draw in a bigger crowd. At least there was one good thing that had come from their fucked up spring break.

Talking about plans made Steve's throat tighten and his sinuses burn. There were no more monsters to fight now that Vecna was gone. Robin had offers from a dozen colleges. The kids were getting older, they didn't need him to be the goddamn babysitter anymore. They didn't need him hanging around, hovering even worse than their parents. They didn't need him—

Eddie had been right there, stepping into Steve's space and resting a cold hand on the back of his neck, snapping him out of it before he could spiral into a full blown panic attack.

"You're not supposed to look so sad on New Year's Eve, big boy. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"

The weight of Eddie's hand, the familiar scent of his leather jacket and the champagne on his breath, it was too much for Steve to resist.

He'd grabbed the lapels of Eddie's jacket, pulled him in, kissed him just this side of too hard.

Eddie's hand had tightened around Steve's neck, Steve had wrapped both arms around Eddie's shoulders before deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue.

Their first kiss tasted like Joyce's champagne. Their second kiss tasted like the promise of new beginnings, like open doors and futures that were different than what had been imagined but that fit a hell of a lot better.

They pulled apart just before they could get a third kiss in.

"C'mon." Eddie had taken Steve's hand, tugged him towards the steps and away from the house, towards Steve's new truck. It didn't offer as much privacy as Eddie's van would have, but they hadn't managed to get that back from Hawkins PD yet.

Still, it was better than getting caught with their dicks in their hands on the front porch.

"We'll freeze to death," Steve had argued.

Eddie had just shot him a grin, turned the truck on and got the heat going. "Not gonna be out here long enough for that to happen anyway."

Cold fingers fumbled to get their jeans open. Steve's stomach jerked when Eddie ran a hand up under his shirt and up towards his chest.

"Fuck—" Steve arched towards Eddie's body as Eddie worked a nipple between his fingers.

"Can't believe I get to touch Steve Harrington's tits on the first date," Eddie laughed against his mouth.

"Tit— what?" Steve huffed out a laugh that turned into a moan. They could talk about that later, when Eddie wasn't sucking a mark against his throat and when he wasn't trying to get his hand into Eddie's jeans.

"Jesus, how'm I s'posed to get at your dick? Your pants are too fucking tight—"

"Are you really complaining?"

"…No."

They had laughed together until their cocks were free. Then Steve was taking them both in hand, stroking them together.

"Jesus— Steve—"

Steve just nodded, tugged Eddie in to kiss him hungrily.

This wasn't the first time that Steve had imagined for them. There were no pillows, no roses, no soft lighting that would let Steve see all of Eddie's scars.

There were just cold hands, fogged up windows, the sounds that Eddie made as Steve worked them both closer and closer to the edge.

Hearing Eddie gasp his name as he spilled over their fists was better than any New Year's Rockin' Eve could ever hope to be.

It was only after, when they'd cleaned up and Eddie was curled against Steve's chest, that Steve got a look at the clock. He smiled and turned to press a kiss to Eddie's forehead.

"You think '87 is gonna be your year?"

Eddie turned his face towards Steve's neck, to kiss the hickey he'd left behind. "Did you mean it? When you said you loved me?"

Steve looked down at Eddie's face. The interior truck lights were off but the moonlight reflected off of the snow lit everything up with bright light. "Yeah. Of course I meant it."

Eddie kissed his jaw and held him that much tighter, pushing back any thoughts about whether he'd said it too fast, too soon.

"Then I think it already is."

[musickgeek]

The Great Alastor Altruist

Could be read as either platonic or romantic

The plan was for Alastor to take care of Adam, but I didn't want to send him without back up. So now I stand beside the feared Radio Demon, ready to fight Heaven's lead soldier.

The shield withers away, and Adam stares down at us with amusement as he approaches the hotel sign. "Adam...First man, next to die." Alastor says with his usual grin. His collected stance contrasts my tense, readied one. I hold my spear and shield up defensively, waiting for him to strike. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Alastor and (Y/n)." He introduces with flourish. He's thriving on the power display, I'm not so much. "Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure. I'm about to end your fucking life." He declares, driving his staff into the ground. I step aside quickly as the green tendrils rise from the ground, showing off the Radio Demon's power. However, Adam doesn't seem impressed. "Nice voice. Don't you know jazz is for pussies?" He conjures his axe, and goes in for the attack, to which Alastor meets him with the tendrils. Adam swings at them, making them disappear. Once he's close, Alastor and I move together gracefully so that he is behind me, and Adam's blade merely meets the shield. "Ah, ah, ah," Alastor tuts. 

"You really think you can take me on? A mortal soul is no match for me, edge lord." Adam smiles, like this is nothing to him. He continues to defend against our coordinated attacks, seeming at ease. "You're a mortal soul, too, douche nozzle." I finally speak. "You should know better then anyone what a soul can accomplish when they take charge of their own fate." Alastor's shadow dissolves into several little minions that attack Adam. One manages a surprise hit on him in between his wild swinging. "You think you're tough shit, huh?" He swings at nothing, as the minion is gone.

Alastor materializes next to him. "Tougher than you." He laughs. Adam dives for him, missing with each swing of the golden axe. "You lack discipline," he taunts, dodging, "control," he ducks behind my shield, "and worst?" He jumps into the air, getting larger and darker. His limbs and antlers grow in a mangled manner, and he's filled with green electricity. I'm frightened despite being on his side, never having seen such a terrifying side of him. "You're sloppy."

"And you're-fuck- fuck you! You red piece of- " Adam fails to get a sentence out as all the minions climb and attack him. "Shut up!" He shouts, throwing the last minion away. Alastor laughs, and grabs him with on of the tendrils, slamming him into the hotel sign. "Poetry." He taunts.

"I'm gonna wipe that shit eating grin off your face, cause radio is fucking dead!" Adam flies above, swiping at the air with his axe. It creates a golden arc of power that meets Alastor before I can defend him. "What just happened?" I'm horrified at the lack of radio static in his voice, he looks wildly panicked. He looks down and sees the broken staff. "Ffffuck."

Adam goes to swing his axe into Alastor's chest, and I'm too late. Alastor flies back, crying out in pain. He leans into the wall, bleeding, ears pinned back, but still smiling. Adam readies another blow, but I'm faster this time. "No!" I'm in just in time to block it with the shield. With a battle cry, I drive the spear into the arm wielding the axe. He dodges only enough to merely graze the arm. It's still enough to piss him off majorly. He growls in rage, and blindly attacks only for me to ram the shield into him. He falls to his back, and I stand over him with the point of my spear to his throat. 

"You come into our home, attack our friends, and expect us to take it lying down? You're more pathetic then anyone here." I spit vehemently. I go to drive the point into him, but he manages to grab it from me, and throws it with enough force to take me with it. He flies above me, but I roll away quick enough for his axe to meet the floor. However, he just reaches over and claws my chest with his hand. I gasp for breath, wheezing with pain. The cuts are shallow, but disable me enough for him to wrap his hand around my throat. He slams my body into the ground then lifts me into the air. "I've had enough of you disgraceful vermin."

My vision is fading, the blood is pounding in my ears. I claw at the glowing hand around my neck. I can't die. He'll kill Alastor, he'll kill the everyone. Without warning, I drop to ground, making all my wounds sting. I gasp for breath. Why my vision clears again, I see why. Alastor attacked Adam. And Adam saw it coming. "No...no, no. Alastor no." I mutter. Alastor's plunged my blade through Adam's chest, but Adam's axe is in embedded in the Radio Demons side. They both seem surprised at the outcome. "Radio's not dead." Alastor insists. Adam falls over, dead, while Alastor falls to his knees. The sickening smile on his face doesn't hide the sheer pain in his eyes.

I run to him, dropping to my knees to match his height, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Alastor, no, no, no, no, no, no. We can fix this, okay, you're gonna be fine, we can..." My voice dies away, turning into small sobs. "Don't cry, my dear. You're never fully dressed without a smile." He says half heartedly. "Why, Alastor? We could of... I'm not.... You needed to protect all of them, not me." He laughs weakly. "But I did, didn't I? And I protected you in the process."

"I suppose that makes you the most powerful demon I know." I tell him softly. He laughs quietly. "The great Alastor Altruist died for his friends." He slumps into me, eyes closing shut, but still ever smiling. I don't care about the oozing blood, I pull him tight against me hoping it's somehow a comfort. The war falls deaf in my ears, I only hear his breath slowing, slowing, and stop. I scream in anguish, the sound drowned out by the heat of battle still surrounding me. I need to end this.

I stand slowly, and rip the axe from Alastor's flesh. I take it over to Adam's body. I look down in disgust and spit on him. With a final cry of rage, I lift the axe over my head and slam it down onto his neck to decapitate his body. I grab the head by his hair, and I walk to the side of the building, holding my prize for everyone to see. "Adam is dead!" I declare. The exorcists look on in horror, cries of shock and grief rising among their ranks. "Adam is dead! Retreat! All exorcists fall back!" Their commander orders. The angels go back from which they came, and my friends all look at me with triumph and awe. I can't match their enthusiasm, only feeling hollow and tired. How was I going to tell them what happened?