#Boar!Creator

[idkfitememate]

A Boar? In This Economy? Pt. 3

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૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Boar Reader x Mondstadt (Genshin World)

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 3.1k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff to angst to fluff again, crack

You thought that the interaction you had with the boys would be enough to satiate you for a long while.

Well you were wrong.

Because now all you wanted to do was go into Mondstadt and see everyone.

There was one thing holding you back, however…

…And that was wondering where the story was.

Now, you unironically had been getting “vIsIoNs Of ThE fUtUrE”, or rather the updates and current story as it continued in your world.

Your world…

Shaking off the slight homesickness, continued on your mission. Finding out where ever which ever sibling was in the story.

What you weren’t expecting however was to watch a Paimon being fished out by a hungry looking Aether.

Oh Gods.

Oh Fuck.

THE STORY HASN’T EVEN STARTED????

This is new, considering that in nearly every fic about the SAGAU the story was up to the current update or it had stopped all together.

… Did you mention that you were a vivid reader of fanfiction? And player of Genshin? Because you were.

Tiptoeing backwards, you suddenly hear the shrill voice of a certain fairy… as in fairly large pain in your ass-

“Oh! If you’re really hungry you should go hunt that boar right there! I’ve never seen a painted one though…”

OH SHIT OH FUCK-

You ran away before the blonde could even turn around, hearing Paimon’s voice call out for you to stand still. No you weren’t gonna stand still!

You continued to run, cursing yourself out in your head for being noticed.

You were happy where you were! With your family! You already interacted with Mondstadt in the form of Razor and Bennet, that was enough!

You rushed deeper and deeper into the forest, stopping when you noticed your family ahead. Trotting before them, you laid down in front of the fire.

Ever since finding you, they refused to eat boar meat, switching to fox and bird so you wouldn’t have to sit and watch them cook something that looked like you, which was nice.

Right now they were roasting a bird over the fire, spices filling your nose as you curled up around it. Another change was the increase of Mita and Lawa and samachurls at the camp. Two of each element for each type of churl to protect the camp, and you.

This was also true for other mobs. Slimes and Whopperflowers, anything else in the immediate area. The number was upped.

And with your heightened heart rate?

The number only went up.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍦🍫୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

By now, Aether and the small girl he had come to find was named Paimon had already cleared out a Hilichurl camp with the Outrider of Mondstadt, Amber.

Wiping sweat off her forehead, she turned to the duo.

“For some reason, the number of Hilichurl camps has been growing rapidly in the past year, even more so than before. Your help is immensely appreciated!” She said, sighing.

Aether only stood by before speaking up.

“Have you seen a painted boar around here?” He questioned.

“Oh! Yeah! The Boar of the Wilds! Yeah, quite the trouble maker they are. They’re a weird boar too, sticking around Hilichurls and the such. But they help the kids so we don’t see them as too much of a threat. Why?” Amber smiled as she turned around to face the Traveler, who was glaring at a now heavily sweating Paimon.

“No reason…” He said through grit teeth, making Paimon shake and mutter something about ‘not knowing’ or something of the sort.

“Well anyway, let’s get you into the city Traveler!”

And with that, the trio continued on their walk, unaware of the slime watching them.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍪🍮🧁୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

So you really are at the start of the story.

You paced around the fire as your family watched sitting cross legged.

You had two options:

1. Travel with Aether and see all 7 nations.

Or

2. Stay where you are and live with your family till the story ends.

Your first instinct was, of course, to stay with your family. You had built a life here, no matter how crude.

Your family cared for you and you them. These specific mobs were going to live on in your heart and you’d be damned if you’d leave them. Because if you did, the odds of travelers and others of that nature might find them and…

Well you didn’t want to think of what’d happen.

You shook you head and snorted, pacing faster. You ignored the worried cries of those around you as you continued to think.

Now that the story started, that meant that shit was about the hit the fan.

You had noticed a lack of Divalin, and more windstorms. With how happy things had been, you tired to ignore it.

Ignore the signs.

But a small voice in the background of your head had told you.

It told you that the story had started. That you’d have to do something.

But if you did you’d mess up the whole story, and then you wouldn’t be able to predict what happens next and you’d loose all sense of control you felt you’d had.

The abyss.

You glanced back at your family.

One thing you made sure of was that there were no Abyss Mages around. Without them, your family was more than docile around humans, not truly seeing a reason to hurt them without cause.

When they would try to reverse the curse… if you left your family…

…

…

… You rammed into a tree.

Small screams erupted from them as the tree tilted over and fell, the top splintered from the bottom where you rammed it. Letting out a loud squeal, you rammed into another.

Why was this so difficult??

On the one hand, with your knowledge you could probably make so many lives better and easier!

But on the other, after you help one, it could cause a ripple effect and make you loose your grasp on what was happening, leaving you unable to help.

And with cautious you were, you didn’t even know if you’d come back if you’d die!

Would you be willing to die for these people?

Another tree fell.

You’d die easier than a human, what happens if you die.

What happens if you’re forced to leave your family?!

You rammed another tree.

Your breathing quickened and your eyes started to water.

The wind began to pick up.

When your hooves made contact with the ground, the earth rumbled.

You could no longer hear the shouts and cries of those around you.

What would happen when you died?

Would your blood be gold?

More trees fell.

Your eyes were blurred with tears.

You were barreling through the Forrest at this point, mind of every type crying out to you.

Crying out for you to stop.

You didn’t want to die.

But others would die for you.

You could stop so much.

… You could’ve stopped so much.

When the thought hit that while you’ve been messing around for just over a year, people were getting hurt, you ran faster, and hit harder.

The wind whipped harder. When you looked up you noticed Stormterror and Aether fighting above the city.

Had you been so caught up in your own stupid emotions that you failed to notice the city closest to you was under attack?!

How fucking STUPID could you be?!?!

You rammed harshly into a large tree, being stopped by both the winds of Teyvat and the sheer thickness of the tree.

Shaking your head you looked up.

… The Symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero.

You had ran all the way to Windrise.

Hiccups forced their way out of snout and tears poured out of your eyes.

You sobbed.

Everything was blurry and your ears were ringing. You were tired of thinking.

You barely registered the Pyro Samachurl laying a churl blanket around your back while warming it.

More and more mobs surrounded your sobbing form and slowly cuddled around you. Warming you.

And eventually, you fell asleep under the large and warm pile of Hilichurls, Mitachurls, Lawachurls, Samachurls, Slimes, Whopperflowers, other boars, foxes, and birds.

You were safe. You were loved.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍧🍮୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

“You have to check it out! I understand that the main issue is The Stormterror, but Miss. Jean! It’s a large pile of monsters and animals! This could pose a great threat!”

The distressed traveler continued to rant at the Acting Grand Master, causing her to sigh.

Everything lately had been so stressful, even with the help of the Blonde Traveler. Currently they were with Lisa at The Temple of the Lion.

She genuinely, truly didn’t want to ask them to help with this.

So she decided to check it out on her own.

Standing from her desk, she walked around to shake the hand of the now silent traveler.

“Don’t worry. I’ll check it out and do what I can to help in the situation.”

She was met with many thanks from them as they shook her hand up and down with vigor.

Lord Barbatos she was tired…

Making sure she was all ready to go and had her trusty Aquila Favonia, and headed out.

Nodding at everyone she passed, she quickly made her way out of the city and towards the place of interest.

The place said to be the historical ground of her hero, Vanessa’s ascension to Celestia.

The Symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero, Windrise.

Running her way over, it was very apparent that the Traveler was not kidding. She could see the large multicolored blob from where she was, though it wasn’t moving.

The thing had just recently appeared, but that didn’t change the fact that this was still dangerous.

Creeping towards the pile, she was met with the cacophonous sound of snores from monster and animal alike.

And she was now confused.

Never in Jean’s life had she ever seen a fox curled around a Sawachurl. Or a bird sleeping peacefully on a Lawachurl. Or boars cuddled up with Mita and Hilichurls.

Wait.

Boars cuddled up with… oh.

Sighing she readied her sword to attack and find where that boar was under all this, before a Frostarm Lawachurl shook itself awake. The sudden movement startled her and she was met with the blank carved eyes of its mask boring into hers.

The two stared for a bit, before it huffed and laid back down, cuddling into a Blazing Axe Mitachurl who was… well… cuddling it’s still-red-but-put-out axe.

Jean was bewildered at the interaction, standing from her attack position. Looking more, she took a risk.

She stepped forward.

She was met with whirrling of a Ruin Guard starting up.

If what she was thinking was true, then why was anything of Ruin here?! The boar hadn’t been known to wander into any of the shrines or otherwise where they may have been found!

She was met with a Guard turning to her. Again she readied for an attack.

Only to be met with small ‘beeps’ and ‘boops’.

It, like the Lawachurl only glanced at her, before lying back down.

Okay, what was going on?!

Now she just decided to walk through the large crowd, though through is a strong word. On was more like it.

And as she got closer to the large Oak tree, she noticed the dip right at its trunk. The pile only got larger, and when she got to the trunk, there was a large divet. Jumping down, she was met with the culprit she thought she’d meet.

The boar.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍬🍧🍦୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Being shaken awake was not what you wanted right now.

Groaning and huffing, you tired to push the hand off, only causing it or come back and push harder.

You continued to shove it off until it finally stopped. You sighed in relief and snuggled back into the warmth around you, falling back asleep.

At least, until you heard the scared cries of a Sawachurl.

Cracking your eyes open you immediately notice an angered(??) Jean standing over you and a Pyro Sawachurl. And she was directing that anger(???) towards the small churl.

Oh. Hell. No.

Jumping up you lightly but into her. Though your ‘light but’ sent her crashing into the large wall of bodies behind her.

Which started to wake up the large pile.

Animals and monsters grunted and groaned as Jean stood in shock at the ripple effect of your actions.

You were just watching a fox climb up the tree in interest.

The whole pile had woken up, standing confused at you and the only human. Jean was noticeable tense.

Shaking off the blanket, you snorted, grunted and oinked into the crowd. And after a moment, they began to disperse, much to Jean’s amazement.

“How did you… anyway. You can’t do… this anymore, alright? I don’t understand how you got these monsters and otherwise to not attack humans but I’ll have you know that you gave passing travelers quite the scare. You understand, right?” Jean asked.

You stood and gently nodded, still tired and slightly overwhelmed by past thoughts.

She sighed and made a decision.

Walking behind you - making you look at her with interest - she wrapped her hands around your midsection and picked you up, causing you to struggle.

Your distressed squeals filled the air as she began to explain. “I just - ngh - need to keep an eye on - hey watch it! - keep an eye on you - ow!” Her words were interrupted by your squirming and moving in her arms, but at her words you slowed.

… Right. The Stormterror situation.

She looked down with concern when she noticed you no longer struggling - she was expecting a fight the whole way - and was startled by the far off look in your eye.

Sucking it up, she began to carry you back to The Knights of Favonius Headquarters.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍩🍬🍨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Seeing you in the office was not what Kaeya was expecting.

Having never met you personally but hearing stories around the city, seeing you in Jeans office sat beside her desk was a surreal experience.

The only reason he was here and not waiting for the Traveler was because he had been told the Jean had left, and with Lisa also not there, he was in charge for the moment.

Was he just a bit pissy that he was the only asked after they realized Lisa was gone?

… No comment.

But by the time he got back it didn’t matter because Jean and… you were already there.

He barely got a word in anyway because the door swung open with the Librarian and Traveler in tow.

“We’re back!~” Called Lisa. Aether stood behind her, red in the face. Kaeya wasn’t shocked with how… sultry she could be.

She was definitely an acquired taste, that was for sure.

But the moment of peace was broken by your loud squeals and oinks of distress, and the blue-coded man noticed you were looking at their new blonde friend.

And when you got up to start running, he made a split second decision.

He dove for you.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍯🍡🍫୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

A sharp crack was heard when your hoof made contact with Kaeya’s face.

You stood startled for a moment, before making eye contact with Aether again and panicking all over again.

You hadn’t made your decision!

You thought you’d at least get until he finished the Main Story Quest to make your decision!

Your panicking and running form was confined to the room as Jean commanded the doors be shut and locked from the outside.

This choice was made clear after you made a b-line for the door and rammed into it. You stumbled a bit for a second before running around again.

Using any kind of Vision or otherwise was immediately out of the picture due to the confined space and bunches of important documents and books in the vicinity.

Jean also tried to make a grab out you, which worked for a second… until you infused your body with Electro, shocking the shit out of her.

Now they had no clue what to do.

Well wait… nevermind.

Trying to coral you was the best bet.

And that’s what they did. But that just made you more wild.

Didn’t they ever hear the saying “A cornered animal will fight twice as hard.”?

Because that’s exactly what happened.

You rammed into walls and windows, no longer squealing but screaming.

It sounded sickeningly human to them.

You rammed past them and into the desk, causing a sharp letter opener to fall onto you.

Slicing your skin and making you bleed.

Gold.

It shined as you collapsed to the floor. Shaking and crying. Tired and hungry.

Those who were awake - you knocked out Kaeya - stood in shock as you continued to cry.

Lisa silently traced the paint on your fur. It’s swirling patters that, now that she saw them and was analyzing them anyway, looked like the patterns that lined the statues of their Creator.

Jean finally thought about your odd relationship with the creatures of Teyvat. How they listened to you and became docile in your presence. How they payed attention to only you and never harmed humans when around you. You calmed them. Like the Creator.

Paimon - who watched the ordeal from a corner in fear - put together how the fauna blocked Aether from reaching you and how the wind seemed to boost you away from the duo. How Teyvat seemed to help you. Much like it would the creator.

Jean and Lisa turned to each other. They just thought you had a weird mutation or something of the sort! Maybe even a vision! Would be the first time an animal got given a vision but that’s what they chalked it up to!

But this… they thought of who they thought was the Creator who was sitting on their throne right now, enjoying the finer things in life.

They were… lying?

The person they had been worshipping for.. years now.. was FUCKING LYING?!?!

Jean dropped to her knees and Lisa shook.

A whispered murmur left Paimon’s lips which startled Aether.

“The Creator…”

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍩🍯୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Waking up in the med bay of The Knights of Favonius Headquarters was not what you were expecting.

A bandage was wrapped around your midsection and a guard was stationed at your door.

The most shocking thing however, was that every Vision Holder in Mondstadt - including the Traveler - was in your room.

Even Albedo and Eula.

Shaking and coughing alerted them to your now awake status. Those who were seated now stood.

You noted the bandage on Kaeya’s chin and felt bad.

Though that quickly turned to confusion when everyone - again, including Aether - bowed.

Then that confusion turned to fear as they spoke in unison.

“Our humblest greetings, O’ great Creator.”

…Shit.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : And that is Pt. 3! The reason I’m gonna leave it like this is because I like open to interpretation stories, plus requests are still very open! So endings are entirely up to how you, my readers, want it to be! I have a hyperactive imagination, and love stories like this, and I want to see what you guys could come up with because I love you guys’s ideas! Thank you all who have joined me on this journey of Boar!Creator!

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♡  I love you guys! ♡

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໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ Tag list: @genshin-impacts-me , @iacunaanonymoused, @resident-cryptid , @reemthetheme , @wichiwachi , @atsukawolfcat , @starlightdreaming, @time-shardz , @novarowan , @justyoureader , @undecidingfate , @neverending-animelove , @nishayuro o, @angstylittleb1tch , @soluzere , @mmeatt, @shirasakai, @kapitankarate, @leafanonsforest , @silverstarred , @lucienbarkbark

[deeranon]

Can you find your creator?

@idkfitememate you know that question I asked a while ago about the number of creators? totally didn’t mean anything lol

The canvas is pretty crowded but I’m happy with it. I had to miniaturize some creators though, cuz some were too large

I love those rough pencils, man

Also I didn’t realize the tiger creator was probably supposed to be a normal tiger until I finished

Wolflord had to go mini and pop up from a portal to fit lol, and the hydra was sentenced to a bucket. I’m so creative :) melusine was hardest to draw because of ELBOWS wait I take that back, the weasel was hardest-I could never get it right

Overall I’m confident about this drawing 😊

Plus there’s a special appearance in the drawing, can you find it? ;)

Posting from my iPad again, hope it works like last time

[shinyjasmineee11]

Greatest pariging edit just dropped🔥🙏‼️

[finalgirlminamurray]

another thing i'd like to post on here sometime is my full list of daemon headcanons for various horror characters. i wrote these out for fun, also during the plague year, but didn't have anywhere to post them then. a lot of them are more based on instinctual vibes than the kind of deep soul-searching character analysis a lot of people do when assigning them, but i think they work pretty well.

(for those who don't know, daemons are a concept introduced in philip pullman's his dark materials series, in which everyone in the books' main setting has an everpresent magical companion that essentially represents half of their soul externalized. they settle into a permanent form upon reaching maturity, but as children can shapeshift at will. they always settle as an animal species that represents the person's personality in some way. this concept really resonated with and interested a LOT of people, even if they hadn't even read the books, and you can find a ton of fanfics under "daemon au" that aren't even crossovers with the hdm universe. i do like those books myself but i will admit that the worldbuilding potential represented by daemons always grabbed me more than the story)

anyway i was looking over my list and realized that, completely unintentionally because i'd come up with these long before winnie the pooh went into public domain, i'd unknowingly recreated 3/4 of the main antagonists of winnie the pooh: blood and honey 2

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Foodie turned Imposter?!

Part 11: Conspiring over a meal

[ part 10 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 12 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

Contrary to what Andrius had expected, you did not sought out revenge. If anything, you had seemed perfectly contented living in his domain, away from prying eyes and bloodlust fueled devotion. It was upsetting at first,

why couldn't you just accept who you truly were?

why were you letting the people who hurt you, get away with it?

you were their creator, their mother, you deserved the utmost respect and the most genuine devotion, not the devotion those false believers, those fanatics had!

Still . .

"Say aww~"

He couldn't really complain that much when you were feeding him very delicious food. Delicious and powerful food at that. Although he was a remnant of his past self, quite literally, now just being an elemental being, a ghost really, he felt his being invigorated by your food, some strange reaction sort of happening his gut.

Though he hoped it wasn't indigestion.

Meanwhile. . "I'm still not used to seeing this. ." "mhm!" Both of the two boys were still unable to get over, seeing the king of the wolves act like putty under your hands.

It had been a day or so since you met the trio, as well as Razor's lupical family. Since Andrius welcomed you, you decided to stay with them. It was safer considering Andrius' strength as a weekly boss and how secluded wolvendom was.

Though you rarely ventured out, sometimes you used the bow and arrow that Aether gave you to hunt some boars, other times you simply farmed sunsettia and other foragables in the forest.

"It's getting a bit late. . I should head back to the city before they get worried." Bennett said allowed as he began to stand up. "[name]! I promise not to tell okay!" he added to reassure you.

"Oh okay, I trust you, but come here for a second." she beckoned him over. The boy had stayed over the night before, but now he was beginning to get anxious. He hadn't told anyone he'd be out for long or would be going on an adventure, considering the situation at the city, the knights might end up venturing out again in search for him so he rather get back before that happens.

Plus, he wanted to make sure his dads were doing okay. Normally they would be able to handle themselves. . but considering the storms that the dragon created. .

"Here."

He was presented with a basket with food. Sandwiches. In between each slice of bread were different fillings, some had jam, the others had meat, and some had vegetables and condiments.

"Make sure you and your dads eat well okay?" you softly told him with a smile, a hand reaching out as it ruffled his light haired locks. Having already known his story, you wanted to at least lighten his burden. "Be safe on your way home okay?"

"I-I Will!" he yelled, face flushing furiously as he left quickly, waving enthusiastically as he turned into a small dot the farther and farther he got.

Chuckling you found his antics amusing, well he was a child? perhaps he was not used to affection considering his upbringing. Smiling more happily, you asked Razor to come with his lupical, having finished cooking their lunch.

Just as they were beginning to eat however, the wolves stood up, ears and nose twitching having picked up on something. Andrius, although seemingly nonchalant, had his eyes shifted to the path that lead to his domain (the arena).

The bushes shook for a bit until Bennett came running back in a panic, pale faced as he gesture for them to run and hide. Well specifically to you at least, you were the one in most danger after all.

Suddenly you were unceremoniously thrown and pinned down by Andrius, you could breath, however every breath you took was no doubt filled with his fur, elemental fur so luckily any allergies you had weren't triggered, and you could vaguely see through his fine fur.

'What the heck is happening?!' you began to panic as you tried to clung to Andrius, forcing yourself further deep inside his mane, you hoped you weren't seen, you hoped it wasn't Jean or Lisa. . or Amber.

"Bennett, you looked like you've seen a ghost, I'm a tad bit hurt." The voice was familiar, judging by it, it seemed to be an adult male. And based on the footsteps, there were two of them. One seemingly silently observing.

"C-captain Kaeya!" Bennett confirmed her suspicions, she could hear the boy try to cover up how obviously suspicious he was by running away from them at first sight "I-I Didn't see you there and Master Diluc!"

And he was failing tremendously (At lying).

The Cavalry captain looked amused at the boy however his brother begged to differ, "Bennet" he greeted with a slight nod one that Bennett returned albeit more nervously and more energetic in a way that made u worry he might snap his head off.

"Relax, I'm a friend of [name], I wouldn't have brought Diluc here if he was going to kill her!" Kaeya intervened seeing how Andrius and Razor and his lupical were eyeing them like meat.

"And why should we trust you?" Andrius huffed, sending a cold breeze at the Ragnvindr brothers.

Kaeya grinned, not at all bothered by the lack of trust. He had expected it of course, so nudging his brother—the red haired sighed—, as both of them took out their weapons and quickly threw it to the ground.

"Your words and actions are empty upon my ears" Andrius replied "for their weight is nothing compared to the crimes your city has committed against her."

The brothers didn't argue with that, agreeing really at the severity of the actions their region has committed. "I take it" Diluc took a step forward, eyes never leaving Andrius' gaze "that since you have taken action, that she is the Divine one?"

Andrius' paw struck the floor, causing the area to shake "and what of it?! should it matter whether that person is the divine one or not? when has it been a sin to look like the great one?!"

He could feel you shake in his fur "You are all blind fools. Not to mention barbaric and murderous." "The knights could not take chances with the prophecy." Kaeya shrugged, clearly separating his own views from his fellow knights.

"Yet you all willingly took a chance on incurring the wrath of our divine Matriarch." The king of the wolves mentioned "Soon Mondstadt shall lay in the grave it made, I myself shall make sure it happens." His eyes glowed dangerously as the temperature in the area dropped.

Perhaps it was because of their visions or maybe their training, but the two men didn't seem bothered at the cold. "We will have no complaints should you decide to level the whole city-" Diluc glared at his brother who continued without batting an eye "-but can you guarantee us that that is what She wants?"

His eye flickered to the king's chest, and you flinched, did he notice you were hiding amongst Andrius' fur? Your hands felt clammy and the scars drawn across your body tingled painfully, still, it was Kaeya, the same man that let you off free back at the winery. .

You could trust him right?

After all he was the man that warned you of Diluc's approach, the man you shared food with. . the man that comforted you when you were on the brink of falling apart.

"Your Holiness!" Andrius yelled out as he saw you leave the covers of his fur. "I told you before Andrius," you smiled at him reassuringly "call me [name]."

Turning your attention to the two men, the oh so popular bachelors of Mondstadt, you greeted the cavalry captain with a light nod. "Oh come on now [Name] I thought we bonded well enough last time to not be awkward now." Kaeya approached you casually.

"You!" Andrius growled at Kaeya's nonchalance, translating it as a sign of disrespect. "It's okay" you shushed him, beckoning him to loaf once more on the ground, and he did, of course with a huff, turning away from you.

Of course he wasn't sly to hide how his eyes glanced at you and the others every few seconds, watching you carefully.

"Sorry" you winced, turning back to them "for the record, it is nice meeting you again Kaeya and umm hi Sir Diluc" you waved awkwardly at the red head who seemed to share mutual feelings.

Kaeya however found the situation amusing "Come on Diluc, don't be so shy" he beckoned his brother to join you two as well as Bennett and Razor.

Razor's lupical decided on walking around you in circles, eyes staring cautiously at Diluc and Kaeya, the wolf boy made no move to stop or tell them off. Whether the brothers were scared or wary, well they didn't show.

Deciding to address the elephant in the room, you asked them a simple question.

"Why are you two here?"

Kaeya and Diluc looked at each other, and perhaps due to their close relationship or at least understanding towards each other, it seemed they mutually decided on letting the Darknight Hero explain their purpose in finding you.

"When you had left my er.. kitchens me and Kaeya had a long talk regarding you, the supposed imposter." He started off, careful with his words as to not offend.

"We agreed and disagreed on some parts. I do not know whether you are the imposter or not, apart from your face your connections with The Divine One is unclear. It would be hasty to quickly find you guilty."

You stared at him cautiously, to summarize he's on the middle ground on whether you are an imposter or not, to your understanding anyways.

Seeing your growing apprehension, Kaeya elbowed the man who quickly backtracked on his words. "However," he coughed "we do believe in 'innocent until proven guilty.'"

The blue haired man sighed, "to be perfectly clear, I believe your innocent, a 100% even, meanwhile this guy," he jabbed a thumb towards the red head "he's still on the fence on intentions, he won't harm you or let the knights get to you, but he will most likely be observing you himself because he doesn't trust my words."

Diluc scoffed but didn't confirm or deny anything.

You blinked, before chuckling, finding their behavior although different, a bit amusing. Seeing them act so differently from the cutscenes, almost bickering like brothers. . made the burden in your heart lighten even if it were just for a bit.

"You two.. are different from what I remember." you couldn't help but confess.

"How so?" Kaeya hummed, interested in your musings.

You shrugged, remembering they don't know that their whole lives was just a gaming simulation "I supposed you guys feel more real and genuine than how I thought."

"That's a bit rude," the knight crossed his arms "I have always been genuine with you." You gave him a dubious look "is that so?" voice dipped in sarcasm.

The man gasped "and here I went around and defended you!"

As the two of you played around, Diluc silently observed you, wondering what you meant by 'remember.'

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ ⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ ⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ ⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ ⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ ⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡ ⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡

Awkwardly huddled around a campfire, you found yourself silently mulling over what to do as you ate the meal you had prepared. Bennett would have arrived at Mondstadt by now, Razor meanwhile had decided to kill any monsters in the forest and be on the lookout, night-duty as Kaeya had suggested having explained that the knights were increasing the range of their search.

Considering your existence and the events that followed weren't canon to the game, you couldn't help but feel bad for delaying Aether's progress in his journey to find his sister.

From what you gathered from Kaeya and Aether, your run-in with Lisa and Jean happened around the time they were wrapping up the temples that powered Dvalin. Kaeya had asked the traveler afterwards to find you, which led to you meeting the main protagonist and Paimon at Stormterror lair.

"So you have met the traveler?" Kaeya asked, getting your attention. "Yes" you blinked before asking the man "didn't he tell you?" "Of course not, he was probably unsure on how I'd act." he didn't seem to offended at the traveler's duplicity.

He grinned at you, a smile full of mischief and teasing "I must say, you are quite the charming person to have persuaded the traveler, he was rather. . how should I put it. Wary of people."

"I wouldn't say that," you brushed the compliment off "Aether is a very kind person, he's not one to just attack someone just because others branded her as an imposter."

Considering Aether had left the city to find her, how the fatui and the knights are working together to find you.. it has delayed the storyline a lot. You wondered if he had met Venti at this point or had found the Lyre. .

You glanced at the silent hero, who seemed perfectly satisfied in eating his dinner in silence. "What is it?" he asked, without looking towards you, most likely noticing your stare.

"Sorry" you flushed in embarrassment, but for the sake of your curiosity you asked him "Have you by chance met Aether and Venti in Angel's share?"

He lowered his spoon, "why do you ask?"

"It is very important." (I need to know their situation over there.)

Diluc sighed, eyes glancing at you for a moment "I have not, should I be worried?" "Not really," you turned to your own meal "it would be best if everybody just focused on Dvalin-er Stormterror rather than finding me."

Wishful thinking, you knew but still.

You were harmless, Dvalin, in his current state, was not.

Though if Dvalin continued to make a mess of things in Mondstadt maybe then they'd stop looking for her..

. . .

Sadly your conscious wouldn't let you be a bystander. It was your fault the story had to take a pause, 'I just need to make sure the archon quests continue. . to do that, it would be best if Diluc returned to Angel's Share.'

"I think my next course of action.. should be going to Mondstadt." You decided, causing the two brothers and Andrius to stare at you, wide eyes as if you had a death wish.

You probably did have a death wish, didn't you?

Diluc was the first to speak "are you trying to get yourself killed?" "Of course not, logically it would be the most reasonable course of action." you said in a 'matter-of-fact' kind of tone "Currently the knights and the fatui are putting most, if not all, of their power and resources on the manhunt outside the city."

Considering how the last they had seen you was when you fell into the lake, kudos to the librarian, they probably think you had swam to the shore and hiding somewhere outside the city.

"The safest place you could be is right beside me [name]" Andrius argued, "I can't help agree with the talking wolf." Kaeya sighed, as much as how it would be more convenient for you to be there, so he can visit you more easily, the risks of you being noticed was too high to take.

He was not a gambler.

"I want to believe that, I really do" you turned to the king of the wolves "but think about it, if, no, when they find me here, it'll be hard to escape, I can't climb out of this arena easily, there's only one path in and out of this place (referring to the weekly boss battle area where you set up camp)."

You stood up "I don't doubt your power, but even you, the current you, can't handle an army of knights and fatui who wield visions and weapons. I mean, for sure you'd be fine but me, you can't guarantee my safety in these conditions."

Of course your reasoning was fueled by your determination to get the story to progress more. If Aether finishes the prologue you can leave with him and head to Liyue!

"The others can't visit me everyday, in schedules, that would be more suspicious. Razor and his lupical can stay here without raising suspicions of course, but I don't want them to get into harms way. If I were to stay at Mondstadt, hiding in let's say Angel's share, Kaeya can visit me in the pretense of drinking, Diluc owns that bar too."

Silence filled the area as they mulled over there words.

Surprisingly, Diluc was the first to agree "it does make sense. At the moment at least, it would be safer for her to hide in the city since almost all of the knights and fatui are here, outside."

Kaeya meanwhile stared at the man for a full minute as if considering his options and weighing the possibilities. "I suppose it would make it easier for me to check up on you," he said as he turned to meet your eyes "but that also means you'd be cooped up in one building for a long time, can you mentally handle that?"

You nodded "in all honesty. ."

"I kinda miss sleeping on a bed. ."

They chuckled at your hopeless expression, considering the both of them had a very cozy sleep in their fluffy beds. "Anyways," Diluc coughed, looking away as he felt sort of guilty that you had to experience the hardships of camping outside for so long "Should we all agree-" he glanced at the wolf who began to sulk "my bar, Angel's share, is open for you. You could stay in the attic and in the basement, at night you can walk around the second floor."

"That sounds doable." you nodded along, stroking your chin before turning to Andrius, waiting for his response.

He grumbled, tail hitting the ground in an aggressive manner.

"grrr.. fine."

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[thefingerfuckingfemalefury]

To all my fellow Cabot Coven-ers who love Murder She Wrote and all my fellow fans of things like Poker Face, Knives Out, Columbo and so on, I have a show I wanna recommend

That is on my mind today 'cause I was just talking about it with my friend @brookietf

Midsomer Murders!

Set in a fictional quaint ye olde english village that is also the Murder Capital of the entire country, the show is a murder-of-the-week mystery show where I kid you not, every fuckin murder is done in the most bizarre damn way imaginable and they only get weirder, more elaborate and more ridiculous with each season

The show plays it all straight but the fact Anthony Horowitz is one of the creators immediately clues people familiar with his work in that this is a black comedy

The plots range from "We could have avoided all this" to "This is the most insane thing I've ever seen" in terms of the motive/methods of the killers

When I tell you that a man gets eaten by WILD BOARS that apparently just...live in the woods of this small countryside english village and another character gets murdered by a block of cheese and those aren't even the most insane deaths that happen in this nonsense show I hope it encourages you to give it a watch :D

The show is on Tubi which is a cool streaming service that you literally can watch 100% for free, with no sign up and no fees so yeah if you enjoy who-done-its with a very ridiculous energy to them this is a fun watch :D

[myownwholewildworld]

The Road to Rome

main masterlist | ao3

pairing: marcus acacius x war prisoner!f!reader. summary: Gaul, 52 BC. Julius Caesar and his bloodthirsty army have won the final battle of the Gallic Wars atop Mont Auxois, after sieging the oppidum of Alesia for more than a month. with the war coming to a bitter end, you, the daughter of the defeated Vercingetorix of the Arverni, are taken hostage. General Acacius is tasked with bringing you to Rome, letting you believe you’ll only be an entertainment to the masses. little do you know, that’s not the case at all… author's note: well... here's my submission for @almostfoxglove angst challenge! the lovely moodboard was made by freya, and this beautiful song served as inspo too - i've included as many elements as possible from both! i know it's a beast of a oneshot, so i apologise in advance. i just couldn't stop writing. hope y'all like it, likes, comments and reblogs appreciated! <3 tags/warnings: 18+, mdni. historical accuracies and some inaccuracies. appearances of historical figures. slow burn angst (bear with me pls). enemies to lovers. explicit smut. one bed trope. sleepy shenanigans. as for the rest… creator chose not to use archive warnings, just know there’s no happy ending here. no descriptions of reader other than a female who can be carried by marcus (he's a strong boy). no age gap. wordcount: 28.1k divider by @\saradika-graphics

A chance encounter in the woods of Mont Drouot had changed the course of your life forever. Your curiosity for General Acacius had sealed your fate.

Eyeing him from the cover provided by the trees, you had aimed your arrow at him. Ever so watchful, you had listened to the nature surrounding you, alert to any signs that he might be accompanied by one of his men. Alone he had trudged forward, until his back stiffened and came to a halt.

His vacant eyes—brown like those of Baco, the Gaulish boar-God—had shot to yours through the dense vegetation. Under his intense gaze you felt paralysed for an eternal second, your skin bristling with anticipation. His head had tilted, as if he was amused with your attempt to put an end to the war the Romans had waged on Gaul.

Steeling yourself, you had briefly looked down to the arrow’s point, slotting it in position. But the moment you glanced up, Acacius was gone, vanished like an anima haunting the realm of the living.

That had been your first mistake — not killing the Roman General right there and then. His death would not have stopped Julius Caesar from showering death upon your tribesmen, but it might have had set him back enough for your people to reconvene.

Your second mistake had happened soon after the first. Another fortuitous meeting, one where you had been at his mercy. You had fallen down a hole dug up in the side of the mountain, set by the Romans in the hope of some easy food. Acacius had found you with a twisted ankle, trying to crawl your way out of the pit. He had dropped a rope, which you tied around your waist, and lifted you up. The moment you set foot on the cushioned ground, you feared the worst, but he let you go without a word nor warning.

Your third mistake had been seeking him out in the battle that unfolded on Mont Auxois, near the Gallic oppidum of Alesia. The culmination of an eight-year long feud between Julius Caesar and your father, Vercingetorix of the Arverni. Had you refrained from your compulsion, you would have died a warrior’s death alongside your comrades.

But Acacius had intervened in the nick of time, right when one of the Roman legionnaires was about to behead you as you stood mighty and proud.

“Don’t. She’ll be useful,” he had said, tone gravelly with apathy.

Those words still rang in your ears. How badly you wished he hadn’t stepped in — for the alternative was way worse than death itself.

And now here you were, tied to a wooden post outside of the Roman camp. Men eyed you from a distance — some lewd gazes, others with a disgusted look. In return, you straightened your back, bestowing haughtiness upon your posture. It didn’t matter how desperate your situation was, you would affront your future with the arrogance they all deserved.

You paid them no mind, undeserving they were of your attention. Instead, you blindly patted the dirt around the post, grabbing a flat stone. Cupping it between your hands, you twisted it around until its sharpest edge met the rope and slowly worked at it to free yourself.

One of the Romans walked by your side, followed by another. He stared at you with disdain, with a superiority you knew was lacking. Your hands stopped, worried they would see what you were trying to do.

“Gaulish bitch,” he sneered, teeth bare. “You’re nothing more than a stray dog and as such should be put down. Your brutish people deserved what they got, crushed by the Roman yoke. You’ll yield or you’ll die.”

When he sniffled and hollowed his cheeks, you knew what was to come. You turned your face the moment he spat in your direction, his nauseating saliva skidding down the skin on your right cheek. Slowly you veered your head his way, eyes devoid of emotion, while a smile crept up on your mouth.

Fast as thunder, you swung your bound feet under him, causing him to fall to the boggy ground in the blink of an eye. He snarled like the animal he was, hands deep in the mud that he unburied to reach for your ankle. Before he could, you kicked him in the face with your bare heel.

Your heart was pounding so wildly, the adrenaline rushing through your veins like wildfire consuming a forest, anticipating their every move. You glanced up at the other man, his fist coming down quickly towards your face. You swiftly dodged the blow, his hand hitting the wooden post. The second man started howling in pain, all caused by his own doing.

You couldn’t help but cackle loudly.

“Is this what you mean by the Roman yoke? You pathetic, little men,” you mocked them, fearless. “Is this all you got?”

As they stood up, your heart came to a standstill. Not because of terror, but because all your senses had sharpened. You were overly aware of everything around you, of them too. Your fingers resumed their doing, slashing the rope that tethered your hands to the wooden post.

You would never fold, never let them see the anger that brewed inside you. Your family had taught you better and you would never tarnish their memory by succumbing to two trivial men. No matter the outcome.

“What is going on here?” his voice stopped the commotion before it escalated any further.

A voice you could recognise anywhere, even though the first time you actually ever heard it was on the battlefield, barking orders like the General he was.

Slowly you looked up at General Acacius, eyes squinting with defiance. He towered above you, but his attention was directed at the two men. His arms folded at chest level, a cocked brow staring them down. He exuded imposingness, as if he was highborn. There was something about his posture, the way he carried himself, that made you swallow hard to dissolve the lump in your throat.

“Are you deaf?” he insisted when the two apes didn’t respond.

“General, the prisoner was provoking us for no particular reason,” the one who tripped with your feet lied.

Another laugh escaped your lips, face tilted up to the cloudy sky. The fucking audacity these men had was ridiculous. Being born in a society where men and women were equal, you almost found amusing their piteous attempts at belittling you.

“Oh, fuck me. Do you truly believe I would talk to any of you of my own accord? It’s like talking to pigs,” you sneered, rolling your eyes.

The two men began talking loudly and rapidly, pointing at you while their angry tone grew and grew. You understood Latin, but when they screamed like pigs in the slaughter, they stopped making any sense.

“Silence,” Acacius ordered, one steady hand extended in front of him with the palm facing downwards. “This is not how we treat our prisoners, not under my command. I was watching you both as you approached her, do not take me for a fool,” he kept on berating them.

They took a step back, brows knitting together and eyes averted with shame. It was obvious that Acacius was way above them and were embarrassed to be caught in a lie.

“Be gone now. I don’t want you anywhere close to her,” he barked, the extended hand now pointing to the forest’s boundary. “You will be standing guard tonight, the whole night.”

Then they both glanced at you, pupils blown with anger. As they walked away, you gifted them with a haughty smirk. One of them turned around—ready to hit you, you presumed—but the second man held him back and pushed him towards the trees.

When you canted your head, grin still painted on your lips, you realised Acacius was studying you intensely, as if he was trying to dive into the windows to your soul. The smile was quickly replaced with a pout and a frown when he crouched down in front of you, elbows resting on his knees.

“Men do not like it when a woman is confrontational. You would do well if you toned it down,” he offered his unrequited advice calmly, the drawl of his voice weirdly… soothing.

“Fragile men, you mean,” you corrected him, straightening your posture and lifting your chin up.

Unexpectedly, Acacius cracked a tiny smile, one corner of his mouth slightly curving.

“Yes, fragile men. There are many of them around here, so be careful,” he conceded, the half-smile lingering.

“Many of you, you mean,” you pushed the limits because you didn’t know any better.

Acacius let out a chuckle, shaking his head. It transformed his features, softening the deep wrinkles that scored his sun-kissed skin. His head had tilted to one side, his warm brown eyes locked in on yours — and then you felt it again, your body taut, your skin bristling. The intensity of his gaze almost felt like a thunder hitting you right in the centre of your chest, leaving you gasping for air.

Suddenly, his hand reached for your face, and you tried to lean back away from his touch, for your head to hit the wooden post behind. You scowled, uncertain of what he was about to do, but that didn’t stop him.

With his thumb ghosting your cheek, his eyes searched for yours — an unspoken permission. Acacius took your silence as an affirmation, and then his thumb brushed your skin, cleaning the spit off your cheek.

The delicate gesture took you aback, unsure of why he would show you such care. The contact of his thumb on your skin was thrilling, a strange sensation crawling up your spine all the way up to the nape of your neck. Your skin bristled even more to the point of pain, as if you had been thrown in an icy lake, and your breaths quickened.

You didn’t like this — the power his body emanated; the power he had on you.

“Why haven’t you killed me?” you spat out, erasing the remnants of softness from his face in an instant, the blanket of war cascading down his expression.

Whatever gentleness you had thought to see in his orbs, was gone now.

“I am awaiting Caesar’s verdict. There are other prisoners—”

“Others? Who?” you pressed, your heart racing now at the possibility of not being the only survivor.

“A few men. Including Vercingetorix of the Arverni,” his words dragged, his eyes watching you closely.

You couldn’t stop the way your body stiffened at the discovery of your father being alive. Your pupils had widened, and your heartrate had spiked even more.

“Vercingetorix?” you asked, wanting confirmation that your mind was not playing games on you.

Acacius nodded slowly, his brows slightly touching each other, eyes squinting.

“Do you know him personally?”

“No,” you replied quickly. Too quickly.

Your heart would not stop pumping, so hard you could feel your heartbeat on your temples now. You tried taming your expression, forcing yourself to calm down and pretend that the news of Vercingetorix’s capture didn’t faze you at all.

“You’ve got the same eyes,” Marcus thought out loud, scratching his stubble absentmindedly.

“No, we don’t,” you blurted out, your throat squeezing.

The man was like a hound with a chewed bone. You could see he was not going to let it go so easily — he knew you were lying. His eyes squinted and then clicked his fingers, the cracking sound momentarily distracting as you focused on his hands.

Big as paws, so broad he could easily wrap them around…

Focus.

“Why didn’t you kill me when I fell in your hunting trap?” you attempted to divert his attention from the issue at hand. “Or are you a really shitty hunter, letting your prey go so easily?”

Marcus’ brow furrowed even deeper, and you wondered if he would bite the bait. You couldn’t have him asking any more questions or he would find out the truth.

Or were you too late for that? You could only imagine what the Romans would do if they discovered you were Vercingetorix’s daughter. They would use you in despicable ways to get your father to bend to their will. As fierce as your father was, he had a tender spot for you. If he knew you had survived and been taken hostage, Vercingetorix would try to strike a deal to cut you lose.

But it would be in vain — Rome was thirsty for blood.

“You could say my hunting days are long gone. I don’t enjoy the thrill of the chase anymore,” he bluntly responded, towering above you as he stood up. “Get some rest if you can.”

“Easier said than done when I have to watch my back at all times,” you sneered, rolling your eyes.

Because if you fell asleep, your guard would be down. And you didn’t trust those two men — you knew, saw in their eyes, that they would come back for payback.

Acacius gifted you with a stern look, all the previous softness and nonchalance forgotten. This was the General you had gotten a glimpse of in the battlefield. One, you suspected, that knew more about you than you wanted. One that wouldn’t stop until he uncovered the truth of your ancestry.

Without any other word, General Acacius turned around and disappeared behind the bright red flap of a tent.

You couldn’t just wait around to see what would happen. You had to break free, or they would kill you. Or worse, use you as leverage.

With renewed strength and determination, you resumed the slicing of the rope that bound you to the post.

“How sure are you of your suspicions, Acacius?”

He had debated whether to speak of his conjecture or not. Nothing should hold him back from sharing an inkling with his old friend. If he was right, then they could get Vercingetorix to finally surrender the last enclaves of the Gauls — the bastard had not spoken one word since his capture. The war would be over, and he could return home.

So, if this was the right thing to do, why was he now doubting himself?

Your blown pupils still haunted him, the way you whispered “no, we don’t” in a hush when questioned about the shade of your eyes. As soon as your expression faltered, Marcus knew he was onto something. And he hated himself for it — for not being in a position of freedom where he could just pretend he hadn’t heard the fleeting panic in your voice.

Marcus wished he could lie to Julius Caesar; say he might have misinterpreted the signals. But he couldn’t — he was indebted to the man in front of him. Marcus owed Julius his life and loyalty for taking him under his wing and giving him the chance to make a name for himself when no one believed in a puny farmer boy from the countryside.

Thanks to his friend and his own hard work, Marcus had climbed up the military ladder, having been decorated with the title of General ten years ago. Marcus had many victories under his belt, having proved his worth with sweat, tears and blood.

“I am positive she is Vercingetorix’s daughter, Caesar,” he ended up answering, straightening his back. “I went to pay him a visit. The moment I described her, his expression flinched. It’s her.”

“You have questioned the man yourself?” Caesar asked with a smirk, lazily resting on the chaise lounge. He nodded in reply. “Hope you’ve beaten him good.”

Acacius was not one to resort to unnecessary violence if he could avoid it. There was enough blood on his hands as it was, didn’t need another notch on his conscience. So, when he visited the Gaulish chief, Marcus only used carefully delivered words to disarm his enemy. It had worked, because even if Vercingetorix hadn’t said a word, his reaction was all confirmation he needed.

He didn’t reply, standing tall in front of Caesar with his hands laced on his back, waiting to be discharged so he could call it a night and get some rest.

“We’ll use her as leverage,” his friend thought out loud.

Dread sank to the bottom of his stomach. Caesar could be… awfully creative sometimes.

His thirst for power, for notoriety, was very well known among the political sphere that surrounded Rome. Caesar had amassed gold and immense power over the last six years on Gaulish land. Julius had told Marcus in the past that this seemed to worry his allies in the First Triumvirate. With Crassus’ death last year, it was only Caesar and Pompeius Magnus who kept the political alliance intact.

But Marcus knew Julius wanted more — he’d heard his friend spoke of future plans that could hinder the Roman Republic. Those talks strayed far from what Marcus thought Caesar stood for, but they were more recurrent now, bordering on coup ideology.

Where Marcus would stand when, or if, that time came… He wasn’t so sure. He’d supported Caesar in so many of his quests and conquests, it would feel like a betrayal to the only man who believed in him.

Perhaps it’ll never come to that, he always reminded himself.

“Leverage? How so?” Marcus forced his voice to sound flat, uninspired, when, in reality, an uncomfortable feeling settled in his tummy.

“Glad you asked, Acacius,” Caesar’s smirk only reinforced his fear. “Since Crassus’ death last year, I fear my alliance with Pompeius Magnus might suffer. Although I trust my sister Julia will keep him bound and loyal, I need to ensure more allies and reinforce the ones I already have,” his friend explained, sitting up on the chaise lounge. “You are to bring the hostage to Rome. We’ll marry her off to General Marcus Antonius’ brother, Gaius.”

Dread mutated within him, rage taking over.

If there ever was a man to walk this earth whom Marcus despised, that was Gaius Antonius. One year younger than his notorious brother, the man was as despicable as one could get. A drunk philanderer, Gaius could always be found in one of two places: in a private house drinking himself to death and gambling, or in a brothel satiating his lust. The man’s manners were lacking, his ill fame well-deserved. Always so confrontational, looking for a fight to entertain himself.

Everything Marcus hated culminating in one singular person. The times they had run into each other, Gaius had always been so condescending that Marcus had to rein in the need to gut him right there and then. Antonius’ younger brother had mocked him for his humble origins, telling Marcus it didn’t matter how hard he tried, he’d always be a farmer.

So delivering a woman—any woman—to that shitbag of a man… it didn’t sit well with him at all. It would be a life sentence for you — because if you didn’t die at Gaius’ hands, you might as well wish for a quick death.

And what was worst, Caesar knew all of this, but still asked anyway.

A true friend wouldn’t, Marcus ruminated but drowned such treacherous thought.

“That would take weeks, General. With all due respect, I’ve got other responsibilities that—” Marcus started his plea, hoping to be released from such a mission.

“You’re the only man I trust, Acacius. I wouldn’t ask otherwise,” Caesar cut him off, standing up in front of him. One of his friend’s hands landed on his shoulder, gently squeezing. “I confide this assignment to you because I know you’ll get it done. Your word, Acacius?”

Marcus was between a rock and a hard place. Fear gripped him tight, his throat running dry with unspent poison pooling on his tongue.

He didn’t want to do it. But there was no way out.

“My word, Caesar,” he husked, slightly bowing his head down.

The agreement that would seal his fate.

“Why the long face, Acacius?” Antonius taunted him as he bit into the meat gripped between his fingers, the bloody juices running down his wrist and forearm. “You’ll get enough gold to retire after your mission, Caesar always pays.”

Payment was not an incentive for Marcus. He’d never wished for fortune nor recognition. He had enough money to live comfortably, a modest home where he could wind down and recover from the consequences of war. He didn’t fight for money — he fought for conviction, for the glory of Rome, for what he thought was right.

Or, at least, that was what originally had him enrol in the legion. After over two decades of bloodshed, Marcus had had his eyes open, his stance not as clear anymore. War had changed him, for better or worse. He didn’t regret his achievements, but the lives he had to saw to get where he now was.

His young self had been blind to the crude reality of war, eager to prove himself a worthy warrior. Now, with a few souls on his back and dirty hands, Marcus saw the events of his life under a different light.

“Not all of us are motivated by coin,” Marcus grunted, leaving the empty goblet on the makeshift table. “Some of us are happy with what we’ve got.”

“That’s the old you speaking, Acacius,” Antonius cackled, palming the wooden table. “You’re so righteous sometimes, it pains me.”

Marcus didn’t reply, chewing his dried bread until his jaw hurt, a dull ache shooting up to his cheeks.

It didn’t feel that way sometimes — righteousness seemed to evade him now. Because if he was certain of his own morality, he wouldn’t go through with the mission Caesar had bestowed upon him. He wouldn’t deliver you like cattle to the slaughter. Your destiny—your defeat, watching your people perish at the mercy of a Roman sword—seemed punishment enough.

But he truly didn’t see this panning out any other way. In the grand scheme of things, Marcus was just another pawn in an intricate plan he was not apprised of. Despite his station, he still had to follow orders. Disobeying them—or worse, interfering—would have him dead before dawn cracked in the horizon.

Getting killed over a stranger—an enemy—seemed ludicrous. Everything he had worked so hard for, for naught. There was no room for kindness in the midst of war.

“If you’ll excuse me, General, I shall retire to my tent,” Marcus excused himself, getting up off the bench. “Vale (farewell), Antonius.”

Marcus made his way through the camp, fires lit with legionnaires around them, sharing old wives’ tales and anecdotes from battles, their yearnings and hopes for the future. For being late, the encampment was still very much alive, the quiet chatter filtering through the smoke-dense air.

Trudging on, his tired muscles begged him for a break. War was relentless, hard on the body and the mind. But no matter how fatigued he was, Marcus couldn’t get a good night’s sleep. Although the war appeared to have come to an end, the thought of being on his enemy’s backyard was still present on his foremind.

As he walked past the post you were tied to, something caught his attention. Frowning, Marcus came to a halt, head slightly tilted with suspicion — a tingling sensation on his neck alerting of something out of place.

No, not something. Someone. Because when he looked in your direction, you were not there.

Marcus approached the empty spot and kneeled, finding that the ropes that kept you bound had been severed. His hand palmed the poorly lit ground, finding a sharp stone.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, standing up and flagging down a passing archer. “Give me that.”

The moment you saw Marcus distractedly saunter towards you, a rush of energy bloomed within you. It was now or never.

No one was coming to rescue you, because there was no one left to pick up the dusty sword of freedom. Waiting was pointless, so you had to take matters into your own hands.

When the last thread of the rope that bound you was cut loose, you crawled through the mud and ran for your life towards the forest. Barefoot, tired and thirsty, lungs burning now, you kept on running without looking back. Branches brushed against your skin, slicing your face, arms and legs. Spikey stones stabbed your soles, but that didn’t stop you either.

“Halt!”

The steadfast command almost made you obey the order. But doing so would mean going back to being a hostage at the mercy of men who had higher praise for sheep than women. Death was the least of your worries — and you would not suffer at the hands of cruel tyrants.

A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed that General Acacius was catching up with you, fast as a wolf stalking its prey. Despite the ache, the agony, you pushed forward, dodging trees and bushes in an attempt to lose him. These were your woods, the land you had grown up on, and as such you knew them like the palm of your hand. A few more minutes and you would reach a low cliff overlooking the river Oze. Just as you had done in your youth, you would jump in and let the current take you as far away as possible.

“Stop, dammit! Don’t make me shoot you an arrow!”

The warning in his now breathless voice made you look back again, realising that Acacius had a bow with him.

Panic started bubbling in your chest, adrenaline taking over your bloodstream like lava. Strained lungs and with your heart pounding in your throat, you focused on the path ahead, your feet rushing under you like thunder.

The whistling hiss of an arrow flew by your ear, kissing your cheek and drawing blood.

But that didn’t stop you, running as fast as your feet would take you. Focused on the path ahead, ignoring Acacius’ warnings, you glimpsed a clearing in the trees. Your freedom was close, just a few yards away the small cliff greeted you like your own personal salvation. So close, you could almost see the darkness spilling over the precipice.

You were going to make it — freedom tasting sweet on your tongue, despite the blood dripping onto your lips from the cut on your cheek.

As you leaped towards the abyss, another buzzing sound flew towards you. This time the arrow found its target, sinking in the back of your right shoulder as you plunged into the void underneath screaming in agony.

Dark water swallowed your body as you plummeted to the riverbed. The current was strong and unforgiving due to the latest torrential rains, battering you around and slamming your body against the hard edges of the rocky bottom. Your back hit a boulder rather harshly, your lungs vacating the little oxygen they held into the stream.

This was how you were going to die after all — not on the battlefield, not at your enemy’s mercy, but taken by the goddess Nantosuelta herself. The blurry lines of your vision began collapsing as your mind drifted away, eyes shutting and limbs limp floating around you.

Something surrounded your waist like a vine, but instead of pushing you further down, it pulled you up until your head breached the surface. The cold air kissed your face, and you coughed to clear your airways, water spilling over your lips in spurts.

“Hold onto me!” General Acacius shouted at you, gripping you closer to his broad frame.

You blinked, confused at first. Then it hit you: the Roman General had jumped after you, dragging you out of the bottom of the river. He was trying to save you from drowning, even if that meant dying with you.

Still feeling dizzy, muscles unresponsive, you managed to drape one arm around his neck whilst Acacius battled with the current. It was only ten minutes, but to you it felt like an eternity — you both went under a couple of times, but Acacius never let you go, his arm hugging you tight like a vice.

Finally, General Acacius hauled you out. You both fell to your knees as soon as you reached the shore. Having gulped down at least a pint of water, you heaved and retched until the burning sensation travelling up your throat was unbearable.

Then you dropped to one side, curled up on the river’s edge. Exhaustion coursed through your body from head to toes while your breathing calmed down. Acacius was besides you, sitting back on his heels with a bewildered look.

“Why… did you… save me?” you managed to slur some words together.

His expression softened, running a hand down his tired face.

“I don’t know,” he husked out. “I couldn’t let you die.”

His features folded as soon as he spoke the last words, avoiding your eyes. He couldn’t let you die this way, you assumed he meant, implying he was willing to let you die a different way.

“You’re bleeding,” he changed subjects, pointing to the arrowhead sticking out just above your clavicle.

“I wonder whose fault that is,” you sneered, sitting up on the ground.

The reality was you didn’t feel the pain. Your body had gone into overdrive, focusing your remaining energy on keeping you alive.

“I told you I’d shoot, and you didn’t listen,” Acacius grunted, dragging his knees towards you. “Let me see.”

Not having the mental capacity to retort back, you let him inspect the wound, his wet fingers carefully caressing the bloody skin around the wooden shaft.

“It’s gone through cleanly. I’m going to snap the arrowhead so you don’t hurt yourself. Ready?” He didn’t give you much time to process his words, because soon enough he did exactly as he told you.

Through gritted teeth, you hissed in pain, jaw clenching so hard you might break a tooth.

“You bastard,” you sneered, but your animosity didn’t make him flinch.

In any case, he was closer than he was before. His wet silvery curls dripped onto your tilted face as you looked up at him with anger lighting your eyes.

“I need to remove the shaft too but can’t do it here, you’ll bleed out. I need to stitch you up as soon as it’s out,” Acacius spoke calmly, ignoring the fury simmering in your face.

The walk back to the Roman camp was excruciating. Pain shot from your shoulder in all directions, but you pushed through it. Acacius had a tight grip around your waist as you hugged his shoulders to stand up, keeping you close to him, his hand laced with yours.

Luckily, no one was there to see your rather pathetic entrance. You only crossed paths with a couple of legionnaires who nodded in acknowledgement to Acacius, and soon after that he directed you to a tent.

Once inside, you stood in the middle of it awkwardly. The red textile walls were bright, but the rest of the decoration was spartan. A bed that would barely fit two people, a wooden trunk with a lit candle as a nightstand, a wonky dresser, two chairs and a couple of chests. There was a small cauldron in the middle of the room which had red embers in it, its warmth spilling into the space.

What caught your attention was that there were no personal effects in sight. This could perfectly be the sleeping quarters of a low rank soldier, and you wondered if Acacius had mistaken his tent for someone else’s.

“Take a seat,” he pointed towards one the chairs.

You were so knackered, you happily obliged, letting yourself fall onto the chair. You were drenched, your leather garments soaked and heavy, but still didn’t feel the snappy cold bite your skin.

Your gaze tracked Acacius as he ambled towards one of the chests. But you quickly looked away when he undid the knots that kept his chestplate in place. The clink of metal told you he was getting rid of the top part of his armour.

Despite your efforts, curiosity won. In the corner of your eye, you saw his bare back — his back muscles undulating under his damp skin, shoulders flexing as he pulled the linen shirt over his head. His waist was sculpted, slightly thinner than his chest. Two pronounced dimples on his lower back distracted you from the battle scars dotted around his frame.

Enemy or not, the man was a treat. You’d have to be blind to say otherwise.

Unfortunately for you, Acacius didn’t turn around — just opened the chest, rummaged through it and fished a fresh linen shirt that quickly covered his body. The damp skirt remained though, and you guessed the General was not as comfortable with you in the tent.

Acacius veered towards the dresser, going through the contents of the first drawer and leaving different items on top. When he turned around to face you, he was holding a bottle of wine that he extended towards you.

You blinked at him blankly.

“Removing the shaft is going to hurt like hell. The alcohol will numb your senses and if you’re lucky enough, you might not feel too much pain,” Acacius explained while you grabbed the bottle, cocking a mighty brow.

“So, you want me drunk. Here, alone with you,” your words dragged, hinting at your distrust. “It’s only fair if you get drunk too.”

Acacius huffed and puffed, sitting beside you on the empty chair, and stole the bottle from your grasp, the cork stopper flying.

“So untrusting. If I hurt you while patching you up, then don’t complain,” he grunted before bringing the bottle to his lips.

You were momentarily mesmerised by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. His neck was thick and chiselled, stubble covering his jaw. You wondered if it would be prickly to the touch, your fingers testing the girth of his neck.

To suffocate him, obviously — nothing else.

“I’ll take my chances,” you retorted, shrugging. The slight movement of your shoulders made you grimace. “Pass me that.”

Minutes went by as you and Acacius shared the wine, taking turns on emptying the bottle. He didn’t say a word, and you guessed he wasn’t a big talker. You were comfortable with silence, but a doubt nagged at you.

There had to be a reason for his rescuing. Why would he risk his life to save yours otherwise? If he thought you were nothing, no one of relevance, he should have let you drown. But he hadn’t, and you doubted it had been out of pure altruism. Acacius didn’t know you at all except for the few exchanges you had had in the past. You were even — you hadn’t killed him in the woods, and in return he had dug you out of the hole you fell into.

“Has Caesar come to a decision about me?” you blurted out, the only explanation for you to be here right now, alive.

Acacius gave you a long look, his hand quick to rob you of the alcohol. His eyes remained locked with yours as he drank. The void in his orbs was pretty telling, but you needed confirmation from him — confirmation that you had said too much when he mentioned your father. That you fucked up.

“I spoke to your father,” Acacius drawled, studying your expression. There was no point in denying what was obvious, so you didn’t interrupt. “He didn’t sell you out, but it was pretty obvious I was onto something when I started talking about you.”

“Have you tortured him?” you voiced your worry, brows pinching.

The General slouched back, almost as if he was offended by your question. You had seen the aftermath of their grilling — broken fingers, dislocated jaws, bent-backwards knees. It wasn’t wrong of you to assume the worst of him.

“No,” he responded flatly, drinking again and passing the bottle. “Caesar has decided a new future for you. You are to be brought to Rome. You’ll come with me.”

Your heart literally stopped beating. If it wasn’t for the wine already working its magic, you might have stood up and emptied the bottle on his face. But you didn’t — instead, you glanced at him, lips pressed contemptuously.

“And what will I be doing there, dare I ask? Are you going to throw me in a cage and parade me around town like an animal so your citizens can look at a savage eye to eye?” you sneered, grabbing the bottle to quench your rage.

If you hadn’t closed your eyes, you might have seen the guilt flashing on his eyes. But you didn’t, too focused on drowning your mind so you wouldn’t think about what the future laid ahead.

“Your father will be going too,” he offered as consolation.

Your eyes did spark up at him, the idea of seeing your father one last time somewhat calming.

“Will he be coming with us?” you ventured, your hopes too quick to rise.

“No, he’s a bigger risk. A small entourage will accompany him,” he answered, fingers curling in your direction in a silent plea to give him the wine.

“Oh,” you didn’t hide your disappointment.

You handed him the alcohol and his fingers lingered around yours for a second. Perhaps it was the wine, but you caught sadness in the way his eyes watched you. Pity, probably, conscious of what your life might look like in a few weeks’ time.

“We’ll be going alone. I trust that the thought of your father’s wellbeing will deter you from trying to escape. Otherwise, I’d have to chain you and it’s not something I’d like to do,” Acacius grumbled, voice slightly slurred.

So your father’s life depended on you — on obediently following this man to your enslavement. Life was fucking cruel, but you would never be the reason for your father’s death, of that much you were sure. There wasn’t much of a decision to make there.

“Alright,” you mumbled back, straightening your back. “When are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow at the crack of dawn,” Acacius tilted his head towards you, a downcast expression eagerly studying yours.

Silence fell like a blanket again, each of you immersed in your own thoughts. When the bottle finally ran out, Acacius got up and walked towards the dresser, collecting the items he’d placed on top of it. His stance was not as firm anymore — shoulders relaxed, feet slightly wobbly thanks to the alcohol flushing his system.

“Are you ready?” he asked, dragging his chair towards you once he sat back down.

You nodded, stiffening your posture. You prayed the wine worked its miracle.

Marcus could tell how drained you were by the end of it. His hand had not been the most stable, considering the amount of grape juice he had chucked down. He regretted drinking so much, but was able to stitch you up in the end. Not his best work, but it would do, keeping the wound close to avoid infection.

Your head tipped, and Marcus was quick enough to hold your forehead so you wouldn’t fall forward. He wasn’t sure if you were drowsy because of the alcohol, the pain or because your body finally left its alertness state, or a combination of it all. What he did know though was that you needed some rest.

He wasn’t as heartless as you thought — couldn’t bring himself up to drag you outside and tie you to the wooden post again. Not when he suspected the two men would come back for payback.

Without many more options, Acacius scooped you up from the chair, careful not to wake you, and laid you down on his bed. You immediately sighed with relief when your frame sank in the straw mattress, engulfing you in its warmth. You nuzzled his pillow, inhaling deeply before your pinched brow smoothed out.

You looked so different when you slept. Your hair covering your face, long eyelashes kissing your cheeks and your mouth slightly agape, taking in soft breaths. Younger too, although Marcus believed you both were around the same age. Perhaps you were older than him, considering how weathered his golden skin had become under the scorching sun for years.

He hated himself for omitting the truth, for not telling you what would be of you once in Rome. Marcus let you believe that you would be a slave, an entertainment to the crowds, but your reality would be much more darker than that. He didn’t know you, but could safely bet that you would strongly object to being married off as a war trophy. Anyone would.

Were you married? He scanned your fingers from the distance but saw no wedding band. Perhaps it wasn’t common in your culture to wear one.

Marcus frowned — despite having lived on this land for over a lustrum, he didn’t really know much about its inhabitants and your customs. Though he wasn’t here to make allies, but to destroy the life you and your ancestors had built.

He’d never thought of it that way, always pushing such logic aside so he could do his job. As Caesar would say, “Veni, vidi, vici.” It was fucking cruel, an injustice really, but his hands were as tied as yours.

Eventually Marcus drifted off to an uncomfortable sleep, almost falling from the chair twice before he hauled over one of the chests to prop his legs up.

He’d close his eyes for a second, just to recharge for a bit, then would stand guard the rest of the night to assure your safety — and captivity.

“Acacius,” something tugged at the linen of his shirt, and his eyes slowly fluttered open. “It’s dawn.”

The words seemed to come from far away, not registering on his mind. He hmphed and shut his eyes again, knackered from a restless night. Five more minutes, that was all he needed.

“Oi, hey!”

A slap on his shoulder startled him awake, sitting up on the chair instantly as he quickly scanned the room — a throbbing headache haunting him.

Then he saw you, sat on his bed with your feet dangling from the edge, an inquisitory glance shot his way.

“Fuck,” he groaned, realising he’d fallen asleep for longer than intended. “Shouldn’t have drunk so much,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m no better,” you hushed, watching him intently. “But the wound seems to be healing alright.”

Marcus straightened up, pulling his chair closer, hand reaching for your shoulder in unspoken permission. You slid down the neck of your leather garment, showing him the injury. His fingertips teased around the laceration, and under his touch you shivered.

He quickly removed his hand; afraid his caress was doing more harm than good.

“Sorry. It’s a bit inflamed but otherwise seems fine.”

You nodded in mute reply.

At the same time both of you stood up — so close, you bumped into each other. Marcus almost kicked you off your feet and you tumbled back. Before you fell back onto the bed, Marcus grabbed your forearm and pulled, crashing you against his chest.

The sudden proximity brought with it your scent — earthy cinnamon with a floral hint, sweet and musky. Marcus couldn’t control the need to inhale, to take you in for a brief instant. He hadn’t let himself be close to anyone in a very long while, not when war was at the forefront of his mind. Simply didn’t have the time, always busy with battles, training or strategizing for what was next.

Your closeness briefly reminded him of a life he once yearned for. To settle down, to marry, to have a family — his kids waiting for his arrival, hugging his legs while he patted their heads in loving reassurance. But when the opportunity of proving himself worthy knocked at his door, he seized it and parked his other desires, incapable of seeing a way to reconcile those two very different lives.

Why had your mere presence suddenly unearthed those thoughts? He was only curious about you, knew perfectly what his role was — your captor, the one in charge of delivering you like cargo to another man, one he despised.

Marcus forced himself take a step back, avoiding your inquisitive gaze, letting go of your forearm and turning around in haste.

“We’ll only bring what’s necessary,” he husked out, busy with stuffing the saddlebags.

“Uhm, okay…”

Your lower back hurt. Your thighs far stretched over the horse’s back, a stinging pain pooling on your crotch. Your ass was sore due to the gentle yet constant bouncing.

You had been riding for three days. The ascent on horseback to the height of the Alps was draining. Cold, icy air bit your skin, the leather skins Acacius had secured not enough to keep the freezing temperatures away. Last night a blizzard almost wiped you out off the face of the Earth. The temperatures had dropped so much, you couldn’t help yourself but curl up against Acacius at night in an attempt to keep your body as warm as possible. He’d huffed in reply, but didn’t push you away.

Today you had only stopped at dusk after Acacius spent at least an hour finding the right spot — away from prying eyes, from a possible ambush. He did well on keeping clear of crowded paths, so well you had not seen another soul in the last seventy-two hours.

If you had a small hope of someone rescuing you, it was now dwindling. And even if that happened, you couldn’t just leave your father to his fate. So despite how many times that delusional scene played in your mind, you knew you just couldn’t act on it. You had surrendered to your destiny, whatever it was.

“We’ll set up camp here for the night,” Acacius gritted out, the first words he had spoken to you since dawn reddened the sky this morning.

He’d been given you the silence treatment since your departure three days ago, got even worse since last night. As much as you tried to discern the reason for his taciturnity, your mind ended up going back to the moment he held you close to his chest. To how your body pressed against his as both of you tried to get some rest.

Had he also felt the rushing of blood pumping on his eardrums? Had he also gotten goosebumps? Had his breath also hitched in the back of his throat?

Did he or was it only you? You’d never know. The man had become an icy wall — one you couldn’t penetrate, no matter how much you poked at it. You talked and talked to fill the silence, and his only answers were “hmm” to show disagreement and “mhm” to say yes. At one point you grew tired of his muteness and gave up altogether.

It was almost as if Acacius was unhappy to be there, as if you dragged him there when it was all the way around.

“You know, you could’ve just asked somebody else to take me to Rome. It’s not like I forced you to be here. Rather the opposite,” you gritted out, huffing and puffing while grabbing one end of the flat tent to start building it.

As expected, he just ignored you, helping out from the other end of the tent as you worked together to erect it. Grabbing a rock, you hammered the last iron spike to the ground, testing the tension of the rope.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he gritted out, crouching to go through one of the saddlebags and handed you a piece of dried meat.

You squatted down too and accepted the offering, chewing away and mildly wincing, the saltiness upsetting your tastebuds.

“A Roman General didn’t have a choice,” you repeated after him, cocking a brow. “That sounds ridiculous. I don’t have a choice, pretty sure you do.”

“I still follow orders. And when Caesar asks, you can’t say no to,” the inflexion on the word made you look his way, slightly tilting your head to one side with curiosity.

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I can’t.”

You hmphed, shaking your head with certain disdain. You knew little of Roman politics, but as far as you could tell, both Acacius and Caesar had the same rank. One submissively accepting orders from the other without rebuttal didn’t make sense.

“You’re his lapdog,” you didn’t say it to mock him, it was just an observation based on facts. “With no freewill, no choice. Sounds like we are both hostages to the same oppressor.”

“It’s not as simple,” Acacius sighed. “The current political climate in the Republic is… complicated.”

“So, Caesar is in the middle of a political storm back home, but he’s here giving us hell for no reason whatsoever other than showing his power to his rivals. Bet he’s got better things to do then.” When Acacius didn’t reply, you pressed, “Don’t you have better things to do than warmongering? A business to look after back home? A family, perhaps?”

The last question slipped. You were not prodding, didn’t care about what his marital status was, if he had a woman waiting for his safe return. No, nothing like that.

So if you truly didn’t, why did you look at him expectant?

He briefly glanced at you, his attention shifting to the wineskin he just pulled out of the saddlebag and then to the two horses tied up nearby. His avoidance made you frown. Had you hit a nerve of some sort?

“I don’t. This is all I know, all I ever wanted,” Acacius muttered before leaning his head back to aim the trickle of wine into his mouth.

The way he carefully delivered the words… there was a lie hidden between them. You didn’t know though which one of the two statements was the deceitful one. Or both, perhaps.

“If you say so,” you shrugged, conscious that you wouldn’t get him to talk any more than what you already had.

You shared the dried meat and the wine in silence. The biting cold sent shivers all over your body, skin bristled and teeth chattering by the time you were done eating. With no fire going to keep you warm, you were dying to retreat back to the tent.

“Should call it a night,” you mumbled, grabbing your saddlebag to bring it in with you.

Acacius grunted his accord, standing up. “I’ll check on the horses and I’ll be right back.”

He turned around as you scurried away, the temperature inside the tent as freezing as it was out there. It was going to be a rough night, especially since it seemed to be colder than last. You shuffled around, putting on more layers and rearranging the different animal skins until you were cozily beneath them. Your jaw tightened and let go of a grunt, a cloud of mist forming around your lips. Still you shuddered uncontrollably, a futile attempt to rise your body temperature.

A few minutes later, Acacius entered the tent, and you were no closer to falling asleep. In fact, you were so cold, you were wide awake. In the gloom of night, you barely made out his silhouette as he prepared to lie down beside you. The General quietly buried himself under a pile of skins.

Not a word was crossed, the dead tranquillity of the night broken by your chattering teeth.

“Stop that,” Acacius grumbled, half asleep, swatting you gently. “You’re too loud.”

“It’s not like I can fucking stop it, can I?” you gritted out, frustrated with his ease to drift away. “It’s freezing, dammit.”

The General rumbled and huffed, dragging his body towards you. He lifted the skins off himself, did the same thing with yours and joined you under the blankets, throwing them all over you both. The added weight of the skins, heavy and warm, was most welcomed, but it was Acacius’ body what made your temperature underneath the covers spike up.

The man was a damn furnace.

Driven by self-preservation, your hands found his forearm and clamped around them.

Acacius hissed.

“Your fingers are like icicles,” he complained, but didn’t move away.

“If you think my hands are freezing, wait to feel my feet,” and with no remorse, you brushed his shin with the sole of one foot. Your engaged muscles started to soften, his warmth pouring into you.

“Shit,” Acacius mumbled, his jaw tightening in the darkness, but again remained still. “You may well be at risk of frostbite.”

You grunted in agreement, unknowingly seeking him as you curled up against his side. His body temperature would be enough to keep the both of you warm through the night. You began to relax, your jaw now slack and teeth quiet. Slowly you fell into a peaceful slumber, the first night you actually got some much-needed rest.

When one of your eyes fluttered open, you were unsure of how many hours had gone by. It was still pitch-black outside, only the chirping of crickets breaking the quietness around you. The breaking of dawn still a few hours away, enough to paint a smile on your face at the realisation that you could sleep some more.

You nuzzled Acacius’ chest with your nose, inhaling deeply as your eyes slowly shut.

It was then that you noticed that you were almost on top of him: your cheek gently pressed against his sternum, your arm hugging his waist, your leg resting across his with your knee right on…

Your eyes shot open, quickly looking down, your senses flaring alive.

Your knee crammed right on his groin, softly pressing on his manhood as if that was where it belonged. He was hard. Asleep still, but his cock was wide awake. You could feel him pulse against your kneecap.

Your heart picked up a pace while a hot wave washed over you, slick starting to pool between your thighs and your nipples puckering against his ribs. A normal reaction, you told yourself, considering the position you were in.

One you shouldn’t be in. Conscious of your own bodily response, you sneakily tried to remove your knee from his growing bulge, biting down your bottom lip as your fingers sank in his right hip. But Acacius didn’t let you, his hand wrapping around the back of your knee and pressing it harder on his erection, a raspy grunt hitching somewhere in his throat.

You whimpered inaudibly; afraid he would fully wake. With his hand firmly holding your leg against him, there was no point fighting this need growing within you. His sleepy coercion was enough agreement.

With half-lidded eyes, lips flat in a pout, you began to gently rub your knee against the linen covering his cock, feeling it coming alive with every brush. His broad hand was still grasping around your knee, almost guiding you, showing you how to make him harder.

Acacius groaned above you, and you quickly glanced up at him — his brows pinched, but otherwise still asleep. You pouted in frustration, a thick slick trapped between your pussy lips. Damn you for getting horny right now, it was his fault really.

Gripping his hip, you pressed your body against his, to the point where your hot cunt was rubbing against the side of his thigh. Inevitably but carefully, you humped his thick thigh, your clit catching in your undergarment causing a delicious friction that sent a thunder up your spine.

This felt too good to be sinful. Your clit was writhing, pulsing for release, as you kept on buffing your pussy on him, while your knee kneaded his now throbbing bulge. Your breasts were sensitive, perked up nipples tracing invisible lines on his ribs. Your only regret was that both of you were still clothed — you needed the skin on skin to get off, to let go. Needed to feel him in all his glory, palm him attentively until he would come on your hand…

Acacius suddenly squirmed and you swiftly stopped everything, feigning to be asleep when his eyes opened.

Marcus stirred awake, his heartbeat so loud in his eardrums he could barely hear anything else other than the rush of blood. It took him a few seconds to catch on with his own body, to feel his throbbing cock fighting against its enclosure.

He was hard, the morning glory making its presence known. Only then did he realise the actual reason his dick was begging for release: he had grabbed your leg, fingers curled behind your knee, and had pressed it into his bulge until his cock was ready to unload.

Marcus froze in place, ashamed of himself, of using you in such wicked manner. But his stiffened erection clouded his mind, his judgement — he needed to move away from you before he came in his pants like a teenager.

Carefully he undraped your arm from across his waist and lifted your knee up, scooting to one side until he was out from underneath the skins. The cold air bit his bristling skin, a remarkable contrast with the heat on his groin. He looked back at you — peacefully surrendered to your slumber, expression sweet and relaxed, blissfully unaware of how close he’d been to spill.

He ran a hand down his face while the other rearranged his uncomfortable cock. For a moment he fisted himself, digits wrapping around his achy balls, before he decided to walk outside of the tent to get his shit together.

The road to Rome was going to be excruciatingly long, of that much he was sure.

The journey through the Alps took the good part of a week. Its rocky cliffs and treacherous paths needed to be treaded carefully. Acacius relied on you when going up the north face of the mountains, but on the descent he had more experience. You both worked together through the issues that arose, on calming down the horses whenever they got spooked.

It’d been a draining experience, but with the Alps on your back, you could breathe again. Temperatures had slightly gone up, so the last two nights had been more forgiving. Meaning, the physical gap between Acacius and you when you laid together at night had grown again.

You blamed it on the solitude — for the last ten days, Acacius was the only person you had spoken to, the only person you had seen. Perhaps it wasn’t long, but considering how closeknit your tribe was, this had been the longest you had gone without having your people around.

And, truth be told, he’d not been intrinsically bad with you. Yes, he’d hunt you down in the forest and brought you back to camp so you could be the next freak on display for the Roman mob, but from what you gathered, he was being bossed around by Caesar. You wondered what kind of relationship the two had — did Acacius feel indebted to the other man? Was that why he was doing Caesar’s dirty bidding?

You had dismounted your stallion and were guiding him to the nearest river, where Acacius’ stud was drinking. You left them alone as you walked back the few yards to where the General was setting up a small pyre for a fire.

“Is that wise?” you questioned, the spot you were in rather open.

“We are almost fifty milia passuum (Roman miles) west of Mediolanum (Milan). This land is ours, has been for more almost two centuries now. We have nothing to worry about here,” he explained matter-of-factly, unsheathing his sword and kneeling.

You watched him intently as he grabbed a quartz stone nearby, tested its weight and shape on his hand. Acacius began striking the steel of his gladius against the sharp edge of the rock with quick, powerful and deliberate downward motions. Sparks flourished, short-lived at first, dying off before landing on the dry tinder.

“Come over here,” he gave you a nod, then pointed to the pyre with his chin when you crouched down in front of him. “The moment a spark falls into the tinder, blow some light puffs of air onto the bundle.”

You shook your head in agreement and bowed down, ready to do your part. Acacius gave the steel a sharp hit, and a big spark ignited, falling like a feather into the wood. You blew air gently onto the red spot, and the fire slowly turned the wood to embers.

“Where are you from?” you asked with certain curiosity, hands extended in front of you to warm them up.

Acacius’ posture stiffened almost unnoticeably as he mindlessly nudged some of the glowing coal with the tip of his sword, eyes transfixed on the flames.

“My family come from the city of Barium (Bari) in the south. They worked the land,” he shared, scratching his beard. “I left home when I was just a lad, only returned a few times a year to help out with the farming.”

“How does the son of farmers end up being a renowned General at the head of a Roman legion?” you pressed with interest, a part of you wanting to get to know him, to see the real man behind the General.

“With blood, sweat and tears,” he retorted snappily, brows knitting together as if he had taken offense in your words.

You frowned, mildly confused by his reaction.

“What have I said to upset you?”

Your inquiry took him aback, and you assumed he thought he’d not been so obvious. But you were quick to pick up on people’s subtleties.

“Nothing,” you instantly cocked a brow. Acacius sighed, “I’m not ashamed of being the son of farmers. My parents were extremely hardworking people. But classism in Rome…” he shrugged, “…is ever so present. Some people are not being able to see past that. To them, I’ll always be a terrone. I guess I’m always on the defensive when the topic surfaces.”

“Terrone?” you asked, befuddled.

Acacius gave you a stern nod.

“It’s a derogatory term some people use to refer to those who work the land, typically in the south of the Republic. Like Barium, where I originally come from,” his dark gaze drifted up, locking with yours while red sparks danced between the two of you.

The intensity in his brown eyes held you down for an instant. He was sharing a piece of him with you, a vulnerability he didn’t show often. You could tell Acacius was battling with himself, divided between trusting you and knowing he shouldn’t.

You felt the urge to put his mind at ease, to somehow let him know you wouldn’t betray this shred of confidence. The Gods knew you didn’t owe this man anything — in any case, quite the opposite. But something about him, about his demeanour… Acacius wasn’t bad, not like the others.

Acacius was just a pawn who had become knight for the greater good, who lately had found himself with more blood on his hands than what his guilt-ridden conscience could handle.

You saw that hint in battle, his blows more defensive than offensive…

In how he’d spared your life before he knew who you were.

In how he cleaned the spit off your cheek, offered a joke or two to lighten the mood.

In how he stitched you up and let you use his bed while his back suffered on a chair.

In how he’d kept you warm throughout the harshest of nights.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” you hushed, eyes averted for a brief moment before you glanced up at him through your long eyelashes. “I am genuinely curious. It’s not every day that someone breaks the chains of society.”

Even in your culture, roles were profoundly embedded in society. Families born into guilds usually carried on with the legacy of those who preceded them. Rome wouldn’t be too different.

“Since a young age I knew I wanted to become a soldier. It always appealed to me, helping the Republic keep our people safe. The training makes you or breaks you, a lot of people drop out because of it. The sons of recognised Generals are trained since birth, and those who aren’t are in clear disadvantage. I used the long days in the farm as my training,” he spoke softly, eyes distant as he got lost in his own memories. “A few years into it, I met Gaius Julius Caesar. Took me under his wing, his family too, especially when my parents died and our farm burnt down, and I was orphaned. But I still had to work very hard to prove I was worthy. That every achievement was solely down to me, and not to the people I was associated with.”

You were so invested, you could almost picture a younger Acacius in front of you, warring against the tethers of society, making a name for himself. There was something really evocating, inspiring even, about his story of overcoming. And to lose his family in the blink of an eye, just like that, it had to be the hardest blow of all.

Had the fire not been between you, you’d reach for him and squeeze his forearm. But you didn’t, probably for the best.

“Is that why you feel… obligated to follow Caesar’s command?” you ventured, hugging your shoulders and rubbing the exposed skin.

“As I said before, it’s complicated. He’s the Proconsul, I’m not. The political climate in Rome is tense. The Senate and the Consuls fear a power grab. With the war with the Gauls coming to an end, Caesar believes that the Senate will rob him of his title and mandate him to disband his army,” he explained. “And if anybody knows Caesar as I do, he won’t surrender his power so easily.”

So conquering your land, massacring your people, was just a move from Caesar to seize more power. A pissing contest with the Senate. A game to that fucking bastard.

Was it a game to Acacius too?

“And where are you in this mess?” you couldn’t stop the question from leaving your tongue.

The General took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in his frame, while he poked at the fire with the sword.

“I have a job to do. I volunteered to come the moment Caesar put his proposition forward,” he shrugged, visibly uncomfortable with your prodding.

“Did you also volunteer to take me to Rome?” you lolled your head, eyes squinting.

“No,” Acacius grimaced. “Caesar asked me to.”

“Asked you? Or ordered you?”

“What’s the difference?”

“So loyalty doesn’t beget loyalty. Sounds like you’re just a pawn on his board. Dispensable,” you didn’t mean to offend, just state facts. “It seems to be a one-way relationship that does not really benefit you.”

“We should rest,” he said abruptly, standing to his feet and stomping out the fire. “Tomorrow we’ll head towards the Apuan alps so we can get to Florentia (Florence). It’s a newly founded garrison town. We should be able to find an inn there to spend the night and getting some proper warm food before heading towards Rome.”

You didn’t press, knowing that you’d given him enough food for thought. Not that you were going to change the outcome with your discourse, but at least you could make him see that being blindly loyal to someone would only mean his eventual demise.

But were you not blindly loyal to your people, your father? Wasn’t loyalty what brought you here?

Well. Fuck.

The word alps was triggering. Just when you thought you were done with rocky mountains…

“How long is this whole trip going to take?”

“To Florentia, I estimate six days. From there to Rome, it should be mostly flat, but still a stretch. Another five days, I wager,” he responded while veering around, heading towards the horses as he did every single night before going to bed. “Go get some sleep.”

“Your wish is my command, General,” you mumbled mockingly, getting up and sauntering towards the tent.

Six days? Six fucking days? Sure. More like fucking ten.

Acacius had been overly positive with his estimate. Although the Apuan alps were not as treacherous as the alps shielding the Republic from the neighbouring nations, it had been one hell of an expedition.

You’d even been attacked by a pack of hungry wolves. Acacius’ horse had been injured, then the man himself had taken a bite on his wrist that almost tore his thumb apart in his attempt to rescue his stud. It had been, by far, the most stressful days since you departed from your land over two weeks ago.

But now with the gates just a few yards away, the memory started to fade. The stone path beneath your stallion’s hooves announced your arrival to the guards posted on the front. The palisade was mainly of wood, but they had begun to replace sections of it with rock. The compound was surrounded by a moat, the drawbridge shut.

“Quis es (who are you)?” the sentinel shouted from his position on the palisade.

“Salve,” Acacius stopped in front of you, extending his arm with the palm down in greeting, “I am General Acacius, transporting a hostage to Rome under Caesar’s orders. I seek refuge in your garrison, some provisions and some rest, so we shall leave in the morrow to resume our travels.”

“Ordo (written order)?”

Acacius nodded, one hand rummaging through the saddlebag until he extracted a carefully rolled papyrus scroll.

“Lower the drawbridge, let General Acacius in,” the guard announced.

The hinges of the gate creaked horribly until the wooden plank bluntly kissed the ground. Acacius moved forward and you followed quietly, feeling a thousand eyes on you. A few miles back, Acacius had insisted on tying your hands to the saddle just for show, otherwise the legionnaires wouldn’t let you in.

The same sentinel had come down the palisade and Acacius handed over the papyrus. The man, with a weathered face and a nose more crooked than Acacius, unrolled the parchment and read it a few times. Once he was satisfied, he handed back the papyrus to Acacius and pointed forward.

“If you follow this path, you’ll find the inn,” then the guard gestured to another man, who quickly appeared in front of you and grabbed the reins of your horse. “The hostage will be held in the carcer (prison).”

Your widened eyes shot to Acacius in a panic. No way in hell he was going to let you sleep in a cell, right? Surrounded by enemies who would show you no mercy.

Your sights locked, Acacius’ darkened orbs squinting before he pulled from the reins of his monture until he and his horse shielded you, towering in front of the guard who had come forward to take you away.

“The hostage will be with me at all times. I am not to lose sight of her,” he almost barked at the sentinels, who quickly withdrew. “Those are my orders.”

A rush of relief coursed through your veins, your heartbeat calming down. When the guards returned to their positions, Acacius looked over his shoulder right at you and gave you a nod as if to ask, “are you alright?”

You ducked your head in reply before Acacius led the way to the inn.

The inn was a small sun-dried brick building with two levels, with a small stable on its side. It wasn’t too big, but the noise coming from the inside meant that it was probably packed. Acacius approached the stable lad and when he dismounted, you did the same. Both of you untied the saddlebags of your respective mounts.

“Here,” Acacius said to the boy, handing him two denarii. The boy’s bright eyes widened, looking at the coins in disbelief and then at him again, his cheeks sunk in his face. “Take good care of our horses. Mine’s injured, the wound needs to be taken care of regularly. Feed them, let them drink, give them a good brush. Alright?”

“Yes, of course, sir!” the lad almost screamed too enthusiastically, then grabbed the reins of both studs and disappeared inside the stable.

“That was a lot of money,” you noted as you both walked towards the door, your hands still tied.

“Did you see how thin he was? He didn’t look older than ten,” Acacius shrugged as he pushed open the doors and walked inside with you on his heels.

Your stomach twisted for a second — had he gone hungry in his childhood too? Had Acacius seen himself in that emaciated lad? Your heart shrunk a bit at the thought of a little Acacius begging for food on the streets before he decided to take charge of his future.

You couldn’t tell now if that had been his reality in the past — his shoulders broad, muscular arms and chiselled back. He’d done well for himself, even if it had been at the expense of others.

Shaking your head to come out of the trance, your hearing got hit with loud chatter. Wooden floor, adobe on the walls, and the furniture made of oak. The place was brimming with life, and Acacius had to slither through the crowd to reach the counter. He caught the attention of an older woman and exchanged some words you couldn’t hear at all. The Romans were fucking savages, so loud it was irritating.

“Come on,” Acacius whispered in your ear as he placed his hands on your shoulders and guided you through the crowd to the back of the inn.

There he opened a door, moved to a side to let you in first, and you walked up the creaky stairs. A minute later, a set of keys clinked on his hand and opened a smaller door. The inside of the room was rudimentary but had all the necessities. A chest of drawers, a fireplace that was already running, an empty wooden bathtub, a couple of chairs and a bed.

One bed. For one person.

You turned around to look at Acacius while he closed the door behind you.

“There’s only one bed,” you pointed out, brows pinching.

“I know. It’s the only available room they had left.”

“The only available room? So… we are supposed to share this one room? The both of us? One single bed?” You didn’t want to sound astonished, but you definitely were.

Acacius scoffed, taking a few steps forward to throw the saddlebag onto the bed.

“It’s not ideal. But we’ll have to make do.”

Perhaps you were unhappy with the situation, but you could tell he was not very excited about the prospect either.

Your sight moved to the bed again, dreading the night. Not because you thought it’d be uncomfortable, but because the night when you almost came humping his thigh was still too fresh in your mind. You were not sure you could spend another one like that, too horny to nod off.

“I’ve asked the owner to prepare you a hot bath. They’ll bring up boiled water in a few minutes,” he grunted, going through the saddlebag to grab some items.

“And you?”

“The River Arno is nearby,” he answered bluntly.

“It’s freezing outside,” you complained, although the idea of a hot bath did sound very appealing after your travels.

“I’ll be fine,” he dismissed your concerns, veering around to face you. “I’ll wait for the maids to bring over the water and then I’ll lock the door.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. You hadn’t even attempted to escape in two weeks, and you were so deep in Roman territory now, it was safer to remain by his side than trying to get back to your land.

“You heard what I told the sentinels. If they see me without you, they’ll question where you are,” he was quick to explain.

“I suppose that makes sense,” you grumbled, watching him approach you.

Acacius extended his hands toward you, his calloused fingers wrapping around your wrists, sending a shiver down your spine. His touch was hot yet gentle. He was standing so close to you, you could smell him — sweaty and dirty, but so masculine you felt a pulse between your thighs.

You had to focus on taming your body’s reaction, pressing your knees together to contain the slick pooling in your pussy. Surely this could only be attributed to the fact that it had been a long time since you laid with a man.

Pouting as he undid the rope binding you, your eyes fixed on how his fingers untwirled the jute. Once freed, Acacius’ thumbs stroked the dents on your skin, smoothing them out, your hands gently resting on his palms as he soothed the redness away.

Your heart pounded against your chest so loud you wondered if he could hear it. With your mouth slightly parted, you looked up at him, your gazes crossing and locking. And for a moment, the whole world disappeared around you. You could only see his weathered features, the bushy beard and moustache framing those lips after weeks in the wilderness… And his eyes, darkened and lustful.

His orbs drifted down to your waiting mouth, heartrate spiking madly now. You were sure he was going to kiss you, the hunger and flickering desire in his irises told you as much.

Then a firm knock on the door snatched the moment away.

“We bring the water, General,” a soft female voice announced.

The icy water of the Arno should have put out the fire burning within him. But when he emerged from the river, he was still… hard.

It felt wrong, extremely wrong. You were his captive; a war prisoner being delivered to another man to do with you as he pleased. And despite how much Marcus hated Antonius’ brother, his hands were tied. He’d given his word to Caesar — a bow he could not break, not without fatal consequences for the both of you. Disobeying Caesar’s orders would be classed as treason. And traitors were not tolerated in the Republic.

Desiring you was so fucking wrong. Especially when he’d lied to you about your future in Rome, about what would be expected of you. His omission of the truth had rooted in your brain, brewing for so long now, he just couldn’t come up and tell you the truth. Perhaps it was better this way, so you would be at ease for as long as possible.

Brushing his hair back with his fingers, Acacius sighed heavily before bending down to grab his belonging off the ground. He put on a fresh subligaculum and then a simple linen tunic.

When he returned to the inn, he found two bowls with a steaming stew of meat and vegetables, some bread, a jug full of wine and two empty cups on a tray. He took it off the floor and knocked on the door, unsure if you would be clothed.

“Come in,” you shouted from the other end of the door.

Marcus unlocked the door and went in, turning around to put on the latch. When he veered to face you, you had some linen clothing on, the almost translucent fabric still clinging to your wet skin. Your legs were naked from the mid-thighs down, your bare feet tapping the wooden floor as you finished braiding your hair while sitting on a chair by the fire.

He couldn’t help himself but taking the sight of you in. You looked gorgeous with the glowing of the fire reflecting on your skin, a natural beauty with a fiery aura dancing around you. It wasn’t only that though — what he had seen of you as a person, Marcus liked too. And that was the most dangerous thing of all.

A sudden throb invaded his groin when he realised your nipples were poking through the linen, the outline of your breasts shaped by the fabric stuck to your skin. Reining in the need to do something—anything—Marcus just stared at your silhouette.

“How was the dunking?”

Marcus shot his eyes to yours, afraid he’d been caught undressing you in his mind, devouring you. You had tilted your head to one side, studying him.

He steeled his posture, shook his head and put the tray down on the dresser.

“Good,” he grunted, an uncomfortable hardness taking over his cock. “Your bath?”

“Amazing,” you sighed with a smirk. “Is that food?”

Marcus nodded, passing you a bowl before he grabbed his and sat down on the other chair.

You ate in silence for the good part of half an hour. When you both were done, Marcus took the empty plates and goblets away, stacking them on top of the dresser. It was pitch-black outside, silent. Everyone had already left the inn.

“Right,” he mumbled. “You take the bed; I’ll make do with some skins by the fire.”

He was already by the saddlebags, grabbing all the animal skins to fashion a bed on the floor.

“Are you serious?” you groaned, standing up from the chair. “We can share the bed, Acacius. It’s not like we’ve been sleeping apart…”

When he turned to face you, you briefly bit down your bottom lip, your teeth sinking in the plushness the way he wanted his to dig in your lip. His resolution faltered when you clasped your fingers around his wrist and pulled, guiding him to the bed.

“Are you sure? It’s very small. We won’t fit,” he reasoned.

“It— We will fit,” you rasped, sitting on the bed.

He knew this was a bad idea, a really bad one at that, but his brain was numb. So he followed you.

You stirred in your sleep. Miraculously, you had managed to drift away even with Acacius hugging you tight from behind, ignoring the way your body screamed at you for not doing anything about it.

Your brows momentarily pinched in confusion when you sensed that there was no one behind you now, no arms draped over your frame pushing your back into his chest. You patted behind you to find an empty and cold spot.

Mildly disoriented, you sat up on the bed, rubbed your eyes and waited for your vision to adapt to the darkness, since the fire had already died out. Looking around, you found Acacius lying on the floor on top of some skins, facing towards the cold fireplace.

Was this man stupid? Had he waited for you to fall asleep to then go sleep on the fucking floor? He was more stubborn than you were. The sight made you mad, so much so you snatched the pillow your head had been resting on and threw it at him with force.

The moment the feathery pillow hit him, Acacius sat up very quickly, turning around with a bewildered expression.

“I thought we were under attack, dammit!” he growled at you.

“You are!” you screamed, grabbing the other pillow and tossing it at him.

This time, he dodged it. Infuriated, you gathered the bedlinen and pulled until it untucked from underneath the mattress, and you stood up with everything bunched up on your arms.

“What the hell are you doing?” Acacius husked out, visibly confused.

So stupid.

“Well, apparently we are sleeping on the floor now because someone thinks the bed is not good enough,” you grumbled, unceremoniously dropping everything in front of him.

“The bed is good enough, but I just couldn’t…” Acacius trailed off, and you looked at him with a cocked brow as you sat down in front of him. “I couldn’t fall asleep, didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Why?” you inquired, folding your arms below your breasts.

He cleared his throat, his eyes betraying him the moment they landed on your boobs.

Then you realised. Was he hard? Had sleep evaded him because he was too worried it would happen again? That he would unconsciously rub you against him? Because if that was the case… well, you had no complains.

“Never mind,” he muttered, jaw tight.

“I do mind,” because why fight what both of you wanted?

You shuffled around, kneeling and sitting back on your heels. Your hand landed on his powerful thigh, his muscles flexing under your touch. Your fingers slid up his inner thigh, dangerously close to his bulge.

“Careful there,” Acacius croaked, his fingers curling around your wrist to stop your advances.

Batting your eyelashes with a knowing grin, you moved your palm further up to where his leg joined his hip, your knuckles brushing the tent on his tunic. You leaned in, mouth hovering over his.

“Let’s stop pretending anymore, shall we?” you whispered, the plumpness of your lips caressing his as you spoke.

Before Acacius could reject you, your tongue prodded at his mouth, swiping his bottom lip. When he groaned, he gave you an opening — the moment his lips parted, you dove in. Your tongue finally met his, fighting one another as you breathed him in.

Acacius let go of your wrist, his hand flying to the back of your neck, holding you close as he plunged in, tasting you. You pushed your knuckles into his growing bulge and the General’s chest rumbled with satisfaction. That was your cue to spread your palm over his groin and knead it slowly.

He was big, girthy and hot. Your fingertips traced the shape of his cock over the textile, then cupped his balls and squeezed gently.

“Fuck,” Acacius moaned, and your pussy reacted with primal need.

You were drenched, the dampness your thighs harboured for him just grew. Your cunt ached for his touch, for the moment you’d been dreaming about for so long now.

Acacius must have read your mind, because his hands gripped your hips and manhandled you until you were sat on his lap, straddling him. He pushed you down, your clothed cunt stroking him — the outline of his throbbing cock softly pressing against your slit.

Draping your arms around his neck, you kissed him again, your hips swaying back and forth on top of him, causing much needed friction. Acacius palmed your ass, his fingers grabbing the flesh as he guided your moves.

“Undress,” he pleaded, raggedly breathing now.

With no shame, only desire, you leaned back a bit, grabbed the hem of your linen dress, and pulled the whole garment over your head. That was the only piece of clothing you had on, so when you casted it away, you were completely naked on top of him.

“Not even a loincloth on?” Acacius managed to sputter out, tipping his head forward until his face rested between your boobs, kissing your sternum. “And you were asking why I couldn’t sleep…”

You snickered, palm on the back of his head to press him onto your chest, fingers raking through his greying curls.

When Acacius kissed one of your taut nipples, your head tipped back, a moan bubbling up your throat as he worked your button expertly. At the same time, he pushed your hips back down, your bare pussy leaking and leaving a slick spot right on the linen covering his erection.

Scrubbing your pussy against him, your thudding clit catching on the fabric and his tongue working wonders on your nub, you didn’t think you’d last — a thunderous feeling shooting up your spine right from your core. Thighs trembling, you rode him dryly, imprisoning his head with your arms and ramming his face against your bosom.

Until you came. A moan filled your mouth and spilled over your lips, resonating between the adobe walls, as the fire in your drooling pussy reached its highest temperature. Warmth spread in all directions, your energy faltering as your hips stuttered. Acacius took the lead right then by grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks and sliding you back and forth on his lap until you were shivering above him.

“Did that feel good, hm?” he pecked your nipple before looking up at you.

His brown eyes had softened, enticing and indecent. You gave him a mindless nod, still feeling the throbbing of your pussy, as one of his hands left your buttock and navigated over the swell of your globe, reaching down.

His middle finger slipped easily along your glossy seam, from your gushing hole to your clit. Acacius petted it gently, pressing tight yet lazy circles as his palm cupped your cunt.

The fire within you was rising again.

“Acacius,” you groaned, your heart pulsing in your clit under his attention.

“Marcus,” he offered in a hush, lapping at the tip of your breast. “My name is Marcus. I want to hear you say it when you come again, sweetheart.”

The revelation was an intimate surprise, considering that Romans always referred to themselves by their cognomen, sometimes by their nomen and very rarely by their praenomen. But you didn’t dwell for long, his lone finger teasing your slick slit with a calmness you didn’t feel.

You pushed your ass back, your back arching and your face resting on the crook of his neck, when that same lonely digit traced the outline of your opening, taunting your faltering resolution as your mind went numb.

“You’re so wet, mel. So ready, so eager…” Marcus grunted, the first phalange going in and robbing you of a heavy sigh. “So tight and warm, welcoming even… You want this so badly, don’t you?” he asked for your reassurance and when you obliged with a shy nod, his finger buried down to the knuckle. “Oh, baby, so needy,” he tutted at you.

Wiggling your hips involuntarily, you forced his finger in and out of your leaking entrance, commending him to get on with it already. The General took the hint and began to finger you rather unhurriedly. The pad of his finger pressed on your inner wall as it slid in and out, picking up a pace.

By the time he inserted a second finger, you were already panting and squirming, throbbing for release. Marcus built up the pace gradually, until the palm of his hand was audibly slapping your perineum, and the squelching noises of your pussy filled the room.

There it was again: the spike in your heartrate, the maddening pulse in your clit and a tongue of lava seeping through his fingers, pooling on his covered cock.

“Marcus, fuck, I—” you hiccupped, nuzzling his jugular.

Acacius kissed your foreheard, a gentle gesture contrasting the relentless rhythm of his hand. “I know, corculum, I know. It’s too much for this sweet pussy of yours, isn’t it? Let go for me.”

At his command, you did, wailing his name with wanton abandonment while your pussy quivered around his meaty fingers, squeezing them in a tight grip as he curled them, pulling another orgasm from you.

Mind fuzzy, you kissed his pulse point, your fingers grabbing a fistful of the linen covering his chest, scrunching the fabric. Unclenching one hand, you flattened it on his tummy, pushing it down until you cupped his manhood over the tunic.

“Fuck me, Marcus,” you pleaded, tone tinged with longing whilst giving him a gentle squeeze.

Acacius growled at your not-so-subtle request, eager to get started. He helped you off his lap, standing up to remove the tunic, his subligaculum quickly following.

And there he was, towering above you, fully naked for the first time. He had several scars dotted around the map of his skin, gifts from the battlefield. But that wasn’t what caught your attention the most.

You gazed up at him in awe — his muscles sculpted, hugging him tight. Strong arms, veiny forearms, broad hands. Chiselled pectorals, a tense tummy although no marked abs, and then… a hairy trail running down from his belly button in a pronounced V line.

You followed the path of pleasure with your hungry eyes until they landed on his erection. He was as girthy as you had imagined, a good size, a throbbing vein feeding his cock on the underside. Some thick curls framed his dick, drawing your attention to the heavy balls underneath. And then the tip, angrily flushed and leaky with a pearl of precum topping it.

Your mouth watered at the sight in front of you. Still kneeling, pussy bewilderingly aching now, you leaned in for a kiss as one daring hand peeled his skin back completely to marvel at him in all his glory. Your lips pressed against his red mushroom head, fingers curled around his shaft with devotion.

You wanted to suck him off. The little taste on your mouth had you salivating, needy for something to keep you quiet. His musky scent had the world swirling around you, almost as if you were drunk.

Before you could part your lips to house him in your warmth, Marcus extended his left hand to you, palm up, the one that was still wrapped in a bloody linen cloth to protect the wound on his thumb.

With a little pout and some resignation, you took it careful not to inflict pain, springing to your feet. He didn’t speak, and neither did you, when he laced his fingers with yours and tugged at your hand. Marcus approached one of the chairs with you in tow, sat down and manspread. You were quick to understand, climbing onto his lap like the floor was lava.

“You are so beautiful, feel so good,” he muttered, lapping at the flesh of your boob while his hands settled on your hips. “And I know you’re going to feel even better riding me, sweetheart. Look even more gorgeous.”

Your cunt gushed at his words, rearing to come. When he aligned his tip with your entrance, you whimpered in need, the intimate kiss on your core driving you mad.

“Impale yourself. Show me how much you want this, mel,” he almost begged, voice throaty.

You didn’t need any further persuasion. Grabbing his pulsing shaft, you held him in place whilst sinking slowly. His cockhead slid in easily and the next few inches quickly followed. His dick stretched your walls apart, blessing you with a delightful burning as you buried his cock in your pussy down to the hilt.

You moaned to the heavens once he was fully seated. You felt so full, he was staggeringly omnipresent inside you. All your senses flared alive, so much it was almost overwhelming.

Marcus had tipped his head back — his jaw almost dislocating as he groaned, fingers digging at your hips, leaving his imprint behind. You blinked rapidly to clear your eyes from their glossiness, raked your fingers through his hair and tugged at it so he would open his eyes and look at you.

The moment your sights locked in, a strange warmth spread through your chest. Despite your dire situation, you felt safe with him, at ease. Regardless of what the future held for you, at least you would have this memento to think back to. This brief crack in time, when nothing nor no one else mattered.

“You’re handsome, Marcus. And very gifted,” you giggled, trying to put behind those thoughts now.

You cradled his face and kissed him exaggeratedly slow, your hips leisurely moving back and forth. Soon enough, you were riding him with all your might, the slapping of skin on skin ricocheting in a sinful cacophony. Up and down, back and forth — your hips didn’t miss a spot in your pussy left untouched by Marcus’ cock. You were so wild, you had to grip the arms of the chair until your knuckles ran white.

Acacius held your breasts throughout, pinching your nipples from time to time, latching onto them when your untamed rhythm allowed. Chasing the highest of highs, you felt the climax building up — a pulsating fire growing in your lower belly, your pussy trembling around his girth, swallowing him whole while your juices soaked him.

“I’m so close, s-s-s-o… fucking… close…” you mewled, your brows knitting together in concentration.

Marcus jumped into action to help you get there. His right hand darted between your bodies, middle and ring fingers flicking your throbbing clit as you rode him. Then your nub caught between his fingers — the pressure, the friction and the gentle fondling tipping you over the edge of your orgasm.

That was the last straw for your nervous system. You started coming, wailing his name as your whole body quaked above and around him. Your glistening cunt clamped down around him like a vice, squeezing him so tight you thought you would harm him. Your breathing quickened to the point of burning as you crashed down from your climax.

Quietly, you glanced down at him. Marcus’ jaw was so tight, you feared he might break a tooth. His cock was throbbing so hard, you knew he was close to release but didn’t want to come yet. You bowed down for a kiss, and the General eagerly reciprocated, his dick still cozily warm and hard inside you.

Some tears had escaped your eyes, wetting your cheeks, due to the intensity of it all. Marcus brushed them away before cupping your ass cheeks and standing up. He held you, pressed against his chest, and you draped your legs around his waist, so the intimate contact of your sexes would not break.

He walked a few steps, and then unceremoniously dropped you on the bed. The wooden plank beneath the feathery mattress squeaked loudly, but you could only focus on him. On his darkened eyes feasting on you.

The cold air nipped at your bare, sweaty body, your nipples perking up. You covered them with your palms, spreading your legs to welcome him again.

That was all confirmation Marcus needed from you — he grabbed your ankles and pulled, your ass on the edge of the mattress, and he dove in your pussy in one energetic thrust. Wrapping your legs around him again, you let him set the pace this time.

Acacius sank his knees on either side of you and blanketed your frame, your chests flush, only your hands in between as you cupped your breasts. He dug his elbows around your head and pumped into you with sharp, deep strokes at first. Every time he slid out and back in, you gasped, eyes shutting in ecstasy. Then the pace picked up and Marcus began railing you like a man possessed on the worn mattress.

He was in so deep, you could feel him nudging your cervix. First painful, but then a welcome kiss every time his thick tip stroked the very centre of your being. Marcus pumped in and out of your spent pussy in quick succession, resting his sweaty forehead on yours, his dampened curls caressing your skin.

It was too much. The feelings, the overstimulation, the constant hammering… For a brief second, you looked down and saw his cock plunging in and out, your cunt sheathing him like he belonged… like he owned.

“I don’t think I can come again,” you stammered, your whole body shaking under him. “Marcus… by the Gods I swear…” you sobbed, tears brimming again.

“Of course you can, mel. You will,” the resolution in his hoarse voice left no room for doubt.

The General bit your chin, the sensitive spot on your neck, then your earlobe, all the while fucking into you with renewed vigour. He was everywhere there was to be, a hand slithering down your belly to pet your unattended clit again.

You fell apart even when you thought you couldn’t give him one more. You came again, for the fourth time tonight. Creaming around his hard cock, you cried his name, a lewd melody ringing in his ears. If you had looked down, you would have seen the white rings of your pleasure pooling at the base of his manhood, but you were too focused on taming your beating heart.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful when you come, so blissed out,” Marcus pecked your wet cheek. “Where?”

For a heartbeat the question didn’t register in your mushy brain, so fucked out into oblivion your limbs felt like putty. His shaft pulsed extremely hard inside you, announcing his imminent orgasm. So he repeated again, this time more aggressively, “Where?”

“Mouth. My mouth,” you barely husked out. “I want to taste you. Fully taste you.”

Before he spilled inside you, Marcus pulled out rather harshly, standing up. You sat up on the bed, still feeling dizzy from your climax, and palmed the back of his thighs to push him towards you.

His cock was soaked, the thick curls all dampened and dripping with your shared arousal. Parting your lips, you welcomed his tip in the warmth of your mouth, just as you had desired not that long ago. You suckled on his palpitating cockhead while he stroked himself. Swat his hand away so you could push his length all the way down in your throat.

He tasted so manly, so musky, your head spiralled out of control as you sloppily slurp around his girth. Saliva, your slick coating him, and precum pooled in your hollowed cheeks until it all overflowed, dripping off the corners of your mouth.

A guttural groan and a hard pulse later, Marcus finally came. His white, warm seed hit the back of your throat in thick ropes, his taste bewildering as he emptied his nuts in your mouth. You milked him dry until the last drop spurted out his slit, and then you kept on going.

In a trance, you sucked him off until his cock softened on your tongue. And only then, you let go of him, gulping down his spent like it was a secret treasure. A trophy.

You fluttered your damp eyelashes to get rid of the tears and glanced up at him shyly.

His warm palm cradled your cheek, and you nuzzled against it, satisfied and content. His right thumb swiped your tears away again before he settled down on the bed, dragging you to rest on his chest.

Neither of you said a word — there was no need to speak after that.

But did he fuck you again?

Yes, he did. Two more times. Until both of you were utterly spent and couldn’t thread two thoughts together.

Every night that followed, Marcus spent hugging you and fucking you into oblivion. The dreadful cold nights out in the wilderness again were still relentless, but now they were warmer as long as he had your naked body pressed against his.

It was wrong of him to take advantage of you this way. In the moments of weakness after you blissfully fell asleep, he’d question himself. Told himself he was a monster for letting you believe that your life in Rome was going to be somewhat untroubling.

But he was now so down deep in the lie, he couldn’t tell you the truth. Marcus feared you’d curse him to death, that you’d try to escape once you learnt what was expected of you. How you’d question his true intentions if you knew of his rivalry with Gaius Antonius.

He’d even question himself on that too. Was he losing himself in you every night as a “fuck you” to Gaius? Because he’d had you before the other man did?

Or did he indulge in the pleasure you offered because… he actually liked you? Did he chase another high and did he chase the warmth growing in his heart every time you came apart with him, for him?

Guilt ate at his conscience. He was a damned man either way. Marcus couldn’t have you even if he really wanted to take you home with him. He was under oath, he’d promised you to the man he hated most. Going back on such promise would mean treason. And Rome did not tolerate traitors. Caesar would not tolerate traitors. And Marcus well knew what the punishment for such treachery was.

Death.

The word lingered in his mind as he unknowingly embraced your sleepy form tighter. Despite how much he wished and hoped for a different outcome, the truth was his hands were tied before he knew you.

A pawn. That was what you had called him. He truly was a dispensable tool. It didn’t matter how far back his history went with Caesar, how hard he’d worked for his station, how many unthinkable acts he’d committed for the glory of Rome.

The truth was… he was no one. Especially if he bit and betrayed the hand that fed him.

But… were you worth the risk? He would never know. Such leap of faith for someone he’d just met a month ago was too reckless.

And besides, you probably didn’t feel that way, just wanting to enjoy your last few days of freedom. He could ask you, Marcus thought, but what was the point of meddling with a perfectly working symbiosis? Why destroy the last remnants of peace you both could have?

Needless to say, sleep evaded him for the rest of the night, his intrusive thoughts haunting him till dawn.

You stirred awake not long after, turning around in his embrace, your face buried in his chest. After pressing a soft kiss on his skin, your eyelashes fluttered, revealing your bright orbs to him. A warm smile promptly took over your lips.

“Good morning,” you whispered, your lips pecking his chin. “Did you sleep well?”

“Morning, beautiful,” he muttered, mouth brushing your forehead. “Yes, I did. You?” he lied through his teeth.

“Like a log,” you smirked at him, and then stretched your back with an exaggerated yawn.

“Tonight we’ll arrive in Rome,” he hated to bring up the subject, especially now when doubt still nagged at him. “But since it’s quite early and it will only take us a couple of hours on horseback, I was thinking… that maybe I could show you something?”

Your worried look quickly transformed into excitement. You threw off the pile of animal skins and blankets that kept you both warm and jumped to your feet, dressing yourself.

“Is that a surprise, Acacius?” you taunted him, the tip of your tongue peeking through your teeth.

“Perhaps,” he couldn’t help but grin, your easy demeanour casting away his worries. “Let’s break our fast first and then I’ll show you.”

Soon after that, you were both sharing some wine, cheese and bread that Marcus had bought yesterday when you stopped in Vetus Urbs (Viterbo) for provisions. The birds were chirping nearby, a light breeze weaving through and rustling the leaves of trees. Just a few yards away, the vast Lago di Bracciano (Lake Bracciano) extended to the horizon, with calm and blue waters.

He could tell you were eager to get started with the day, because you finished your food quickly and then scooted over to his side. He checked the wound in your shoulder, the one he himself had inflicted. It still gnawed at him, being responsible for causing you harm. As if to erase his wrongdoing, Marcus bowed down and brushed your now healed lesion with his lips.

You sighed in contentment, ready for your turn.

Marcus let you grab his left hand. For the past few days, every day after breakfast, you would reciprocate and unravel the cloth covering his hand, inspecting the wound. It hadn’t festered thanks to your diligent efforts to help him keep it clean. The torn flesh around the injury was healing nicely, although it would leave a scar behind. Not that he minded, another one added to the collection. One to remember your little trip together.

You poured some wine on the wound, then some water from the lake. But when you were about to wrap it with clean linen, Marcus shook his head.

“We are going in the water, don’t want to get it wet,” he explained, standing up to his feet.

“In the water?” you barked, bunching up your eyebrows. “Are you mad? Do you know how cold it is?”

“I know. But it will be worth it, trust me,” he winked at you, a sly smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

Under your attentive watch, he removed all his clothes, folding the items neatly and putting them down on a rock. The cold air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t mind — if anything, Marcus welcomed the bitter cold. Considering how hot he’d burnt last night with you in his arms, he needed to cool down a bit.

Marcus rotated on his heels, gazing you up. Still clothed.

“Are you not coming then? I promise it’ll be worth it.”

You huffed and puffed, your lips pouting as you removed your garments. “It better be.”

Intertwining his fingers with yours, he tugged at you, slamming your bare body against his chest. You felt too good in his arms, soft and warm despite your cold bristling skin. Marcus leaned in for a gentle kiss, almost a puritanical peck, before walking towards the water. He tiptoed on the edge, testing the temperature, and then plunged in. His head disappeared momentarily under the water, and then resurfaced for a gasp of air.

You were on the shore, hugging your shoulders, so beautiful you looked like Venus herself. That was probably a heresy, but Marcus didn’t care — you had no comparison in his eyes. Your body was a place of worship, but the caring personality behind the façade was a sacred temple.

So, why was he secretly planning on desecrating his house of worship, you? He was a heartless, selfish bastard.

“Come,” he offered you his hand, which you swiftly accepted, joining him in the water.

You shivered, teeth chattering, and shot him an untrusting glare. “Okay, so here I am. What’s the surprise?”

He laughed at your eagerness to get out of the water, shook his head too.

“So impatient, mel. We have to get there yet,” he pushed you further into the water, following. “You see that dent in the rock over there? It leads to an underwater cave.”

“Diving? Nuh-uh, you’re trying to kill me!” you shouted in jest, a playful glimmer in your eyes.

“Just follow me, will you?”

With that said, Marcus swam towards the rock that was inaccessible from the shore. He made sure you were right behind him, and when you got to where he was, he grabbed your hand and dove.

The dive only lasted a minute or two, soon reappearing in the underwater cave. It wasn’t too big, around fifty square meters. Stalagmites hung from the ceiling, droplets eroding the rock underneath. It was peacefully quiet, only the gurgling of water breaking the silence. A crack in the ceiling allowed a lonely sunray to illuminate the cave.  The walls of the cave were covered with colourful seashells and starfish, this little paradise brimming with life despite how isolated it was from the outside world.

Marcus climbed out of the water and helped you up onto the slimy rock.

“Careful, don’t slip,” he warned, holding you by your waist.

“Good heavens, it’s steaming in here!” you exclaimed, the thick humid air almost making it impossible to breathe properly.

“This is what I wanted to show you,” he hugged you to his side, pointing at the two bubbling pools, one deep and one shallow, in the middle of the cave. “It’s a geyser. This lake formed on top of a volcano, which has been inactive for centuries now, but the warmth and lava below ground has created several hot springs around the lake.”

“Marcus, this is beautiful, thank you for taking me here,” you turned around in his half embrace to kiss him, paced and sweet. “Let’s go!”

Marcus almost had a heart attack when he saw you slipping on the edge of the rock, but in the last second you managed to keep your balance before graciously jumping into the water.

When your head emerged, he was able to breathe again. You looked so carefree, enjoying and living in the moment, it tugged at his heart.

“This is fucking amazing, the water’s so hot. Come join me, please!” you splashed the water, a small wave coming at him, wetting his feet.

Marcus happily obliged and dove in immediately after.

For two hours, you swam around or perched yourselves on the rocky shore, relishing this precious moment. And when the subtle dance of your bodies became too apparent, you joined each other’s company on the shallow pool, only a few inches of water lapping at you both. Marcus took you in his arms, nestling you down on the smooth rocks, while he coaxed your thighs apart for him, exposing your core to his attention. Soon enough he was rutting into you, not maddingly but lovingly, showing you how much he wanted this moment to last. How much he wished you both could stay here forever, far away from responsibilities and honour.

You draped your legs around his waist, taking him in as deep as possible, sheathing him tightly. Your hiccups soon turned into full-blown moans, shattering around him, clenching and gushing, while he fucked you through your orgasm. With the last remnant of decency, Marcus managed to pull out of you, his load messily landing on your lower belly.

You giggled, giddy and satisfied, before you both were at it again, working together towards another climax, both of your moans and groans echoing in this tranquil oasis.

When you both were totally spent, you just laid there to gather some strength and return to the real world. It was obvious neither of you wanted to leave, this quiet retreat would be your secret. The places your minds would escape to when your bodies couldn’t.

Grudgingly, you dove together and reappeared on the other side, swimming back to shore.

In silence but both smiling, you walked out of the water.

In the dead quiet of the cave, Marcus had made up his mind. He had to say something, explain to you what was going to happen, and how much he regretted not being able to do something about it. You deserved the truth, even though it meant breaking the trust between you. Even if it meant letting you go now. Perhaps you’d forgive him, perhaps you’d understand that he had no say in the matter. Perhaps...you’d see he truly cared for you.

When you were both fully clothed, Marcus turned around to face you, anxiety spiking in his heart and mind to unknown levels, throat closing up with fear.

“Listen, mel, I need to tell you som…”

“General Acacius, how great it is to see you,” a grave masculine voice suddenly interrupted him.

With his heart crammed into his throat, Marcus veered around.

Gaius Antonius was standing right in front of him atop a brown horse, one of his men right behind him, with a nasty smile showing his crooked teeth.

The shift in the atmosphere was palpable. Since that man and his guard had interrupted, Marcus had gone quiet. It was pretty obvious from his body language that Acacius didn’t stand the man in front of him. His shoulders had squared, neck tense and jaw very clenched. It almost looked like Marcus was going to punch the man with no warning, but thought better of it.

Even after they left, the General didn’t dare look in your direction. It didn’t matter how much you tried to get him to talk back, he just didn’t.

So riding quietly besides him gave you plenty of time to sink in your thoughts and dwell in the little words the two men had exchanged.

“I’m looking forward to get a taste of my gift,” the Roman you came to know as Gaius Antonius had said, his cruel eyes flickering to yours briefly.

Something in his dead orbs sent an unpleasant shiver down your back. His features were not easy to look at and his physique was too imposing, bald, tall and extremely built — he reminded you of the one-eyed monsters the old druidesses of your tribe would talk about to scare the kids away from real danger.

You had felt very uncomfortable in his presence, to the point where you had hidden behind Acacius so Antonius would stop gazing you up.

His words still rang in your ears, a dark omen settling in the pit of your stomach. Why had he looked at you directly when he had said “my gift”? Now that the fear was almost forgotten, you just remembered he had also winked at you before licking his lips obscenely.

Your heart jolted in your chest, belly churning at the thought taking form in your head.

No, it can’t be. Marcus wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t bring you to be entertainment for a specific man, not a pastime for a crowd.

Marcus would have told you if that was the case — you two had shared enough time together, built rapport. In the last few weeks, you’d also seen a side of him that was very appealing to you, a version of him you wouldn’t mind getting to know better. His kind, playful side, the one that cared for you and your wellbeing. The one, you thought, that perhaps felt for you the same way you did for him.

With how close you two had become, Marcus wouldn’t betray you like that, wouldn’t sell you out to another man as if you were a plaything he could discard. He’d said you were going to be paraded around like a savage animal so the townspeople would see an untamed wildling for the first time. And as vile as it sounded, it wasn’t the worst-case scenario for someone like you, so even though it wasn’t great, you’d accepted the idea.

No, he didn’t say that. I did. And he didn’t confirm nor deny it. You’d been too drunk to see it then.

Your eyes widened with horror as your heart climbed up your throat, a landslide of panic coursing through your veins.

“Marcus—” you muttered with a trembling voice, even your hands holding the reins were shaking.

“We’re here,” he cut you off, still avoiding your sight.

Your eyes darted down the path, a huge gate with columns framing it right in front. It was tall, with men posted to either side of the arch, wearing full, bright armour and helmets.

A frightening feeling of doom, of plain claustrophobia, took hold of your soul. It was as if walls were closing in around you, confining you to a tiny space. Deep breaths were not helping either, if anything they made everything worse.

“Marcus, please, listen—”

“We’ll talk after leaving the horses in the stables. They are really tired and mine needs his wound to be looked after,” again, he interrupted you.

A burning sensation went up your neck, and you could feel the tears threatening to spill. Holding onto the last remnant of hope, you pushed all the emotions down — you still trusted Marcus, despite how distant he felt right now.

Ten minutes later, you both dismounted the stallions, removed the saddles and the bridles. It was dark and it reeked of nature, but you were too anxious to wait any longer.

As Marcus attempted to turn around and leave, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled from him to stop him in his tracks.

“You said we could talk now. Please,” you almost begged, your low tone almost breaking in the last word.

With a heavy sigh, Marcus faced you. His eyes, bright before, were now of an opaque brown shade. If regret had a colour, it would be exactly the same as his irises. His lips were furrowed into a pout, his brows pinching with loud concern.

And when your eyes finally locked, you knew. You knew you were not overthinking the situation — it was exactly like it seemed.

“No,” you husked out, letting go of his wrist as if his skin burnt yours, your hand flying to your face to cover your mouth. “No. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he gritted out, averting his eyes with visible remorse.

Was the bastard really pleading ignorance? Was he such a coward, he wouldn’t tell you himself? After everything you’d gone through and shared? After so many long, cold nights spent in his embrace? Did any of that mean anything to him?

Apparently not.

“Why am I here? I’m not here to be a hostage kept in a cage, am I?” your voice was barely audible as you tried your best to contain the angry tears.

“No,” Marcus paused after his whisper. “You’re here to be married off to Marcus Antonius’ brother, Gaius. You’re a gift to the Antonius family, to keep Caesar’s allies happy.”

The explanation fell on you like icy water. Even your heart had stopped beating, your lungs vacating all oxygen within them in a painful exhale.

This couldn’t be happening. Acacius couldn’t be this heartless and cruel. Had he been faking all along just to gain your trust, to make you feel comfortable in his presence? How could he kiss you, make love to you every night, knowing that to him you were just cargo?

And then, the prospect of bedding that man… Vile rose up your throat — you were sure you wouldn’t be able to stomach it. He looked like a brute, cruel and dominant. And although you had a strong spirit, even the best soldiers ended up succumbing to the crushing force of bestiality.

“Did you know?” you begged of him, hugging yourself. “Did you know the plan all along?”

Finally, his expression folded — his cloudy eyes were bright with unspent tears, lips pressing into a sad pout. He moved towards you, hands extended to hug you, but you quickly retreated. You couldn’t have his hands on you, you needed to focus.

“I did,” he replied, dropping his hands when he read your body language. “I did, and I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, I was going to… But…”

“But what?!” you screamed, the dam holding your tears breaking. A trickle of droplets cascaded down your cheeks, shouting again, “but what, Marcus?!”

“But I was afraid you’d leave. I’ve grown fond of you, I really have. I didn’t want to lose you, at least not yet. This morning, before Gaius arrived, I was going to tell you, give you a way out…” Marcus combed his unruly curls back with his fingers, obviously desperate for you to understand.

“Were you?” you mocked him with a sneery laugh, sweeping the tears off your cheeks. “Sure you were. So why didn’t you when they left, huh?”

“We were being followed, mel. They never left,” he reasoned. “That’s why I didn’t talk to you. Gaius and his henchman were watching us. I didn’t want him to think that… there is something between us.”

“There was,” you immediately corrected him, despite the instant hurt showing in his eyes. “There was something between us, Acacius. Not anymore.”

It broke you saying such a thing, especially when his words had filtered through, making you consider his truth. But even if he wasn’t lying, it wouldn’t change a thing. You were still here, delivered to a man who would destroy you and your soul.

“You have every right to feel that way, I understand, but please—”

“No, I’m done listening to your lies. You’re a coward, Acacius. A fucking pawn. The day you realise how dispensable you are to your fucking precious Caesar, you’ll have no one by your side. He’ll discard you just like you’re discarding me now, when you become an inconvenience,” you snarled at him, your pain speaking for you.

You wanted him to hurt more than you were right now. If his downcast features were any indication, he probably was. But he deserved every fucking word you threw at him. He’d betrayed you like no one else had before. You thought he was different, that he was good.

How wrong you were.

“I know, mel. I do know. But please let me explain—”

“General Acacius,” a deep voice interrupted your argument, both of you straightening your backs as if nothing of importance was happening.

Three guards had entered the stables and were right behind you. One of them grabbed your elbow rather harshly, almost tripping you over.

“The hostage needs to be readied to formally meet Antonius. We are taking her now,” the same man spoke.

A myriad of emotions ran through Marcus’ face, a full range of regret, grief and sadness. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that he truly cared for you. That this was breaking his heart as much as it was crumbling yours. You felt stupid for holding to a shard of hope, but you forced yourself to let go of the illusion.

General Acacius was like any other man — evil, greedy, heartless.

“Hope the gold is worth the pain,” you whispered, almost mouthed the words so only he could listen. “Take me away from here,” you told the guards.

When they hastily turned you around to drag you out of the stables, you didn’t look back, didn’t put up a fight either.

Only when you were thrown in an unknown, empty room, you allowed yourself to cry your eyes out and bang the walls of your enclosure, damning the man who brought you here.

He’d been witnessing your spiral into hell for weeks now. How the light abandoned your eyes, dull and devoid of any emotion. How your skin was coloured with fresh bruises every day, the ones around your neck more visible than others. He knew for a fact that Gaius would put a chain around your throat, the atrocious man bragging about it in front of him every chance he got.

How you would avert your eyes, evading his every time he tried to make visual contact with you. As if he was dead to you, rightfully so.

And with every encounter, his resolution faltered, and his heart chipped some more. Marcus blamed himself — for lying to you, for not being brave enough, for not setting you free when he had the chance, for not fighting for you, for not stopping the guards from taking you away from him. He saw in you all the failures he’d done, all the pain he’d caused. And it was eating him alive.

How badly he wished to travel back in time, to prevent all this from happening. But he couldn’t change the past. He couldn’t mend the harm his inaction had brought about.

Marcus couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t stand by, seeing your soul slowly die. He was a fucking coward, you were right — too afraid to lose his station because all the effort and sacrifices would have been for naught.

But at what cost? He couldn’t lose you, although deep down he knew he already had. What a sick bastard he was.

“General Acacius,” Marcus Antonius greeted him. “Caesar sends his congratulations, the gold for your successful will be delivered to you tonight.”

He’d been focused on you for so long, the chatter of the hall had dropped to background noise. The room in the Antonius household was packed as people feasted and drank, celebrating the return of Marcus Antonius’ legion.

Marcus gave the General a stern nod, bringing the wine cup up to his lips to avoid talking. His throat felt dry with shame. No amount of coin was worth your suffering.

Antonius lingered; some small talk being exchanged although Marcus barely paid any attention to the man. When the other General tired of his unresponsiveness, he moved on to speak to his brother.

His chest burnt at the sight of Gaius. Marcus hated himself but despised Gaius even more so. How could have he delivered you to him despite knowing how brutal he would be with you?

“Go get me some more wine from the cellar, slave,” Gaius snapped at you.

You swiftly left his side, turning the corner into a corridor.

This was his chance.

Marcus slithered through the crowd like a snake ready to bite, leaving his empty cup behind. When he reached the hallway you had disappeared into, Marcus checked over his shoulder before disappearing into the shadows.

A staircase at the end of the corridor spiralled down into the underground, and he walked down the steps, pushed the heavy door and entered the cellar.

The room was lighted by some lit torches on the wall, the sweet scent of wine filling the room. As his eyes adapted to the almost darkness, Marcus scanned the place.

A quiet sob betrayed your presence. Sauntering, he found you in a corner, bloodshot eyes welling up as you hugged yourself.

He stood there, right in front of you, like a scarecrow. Frozen with guilt, unable to decide what to do, what to say, to soothe you. But when you looked up to him through your damp eyelashes, you made the decision for him.

You lurched forward into his chest, and Marcus instantly wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close while you cried your sorrows in the crook of his neck. His heart was pounding so wildly, he feared he might drop dead at any second. Finally, Marcus found his hoarse voice, whispering soothing words while stroking your hair.

The fact that you went to him so eagerly, so uninhibited, broke his heart some more, the edges cracking and collapsing into itself. He didn’t deserve to hold you, to calm you, when he was the only reason you had been suffering unimaginably for this long.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, throat clamping down, tears threatening to fall. “I am truly sorry for being a coward, for not choosing you when I could. I was so afraid of the repercussions, of losing everything I worked so hard for…”

Marcus forced in a deep breath, the tears falling free at last. You were still sobbing, now more audibly so, and when you unglued your face from his neck to look up at him, Marcus’ breath hitched somewhere in the back of his throat. The state of you, up close, was… gut wrenching. Bruises, some fresh lacerations, but what gnawed at him the most was how lifeless you looked, so drained of purpose, of wit.

“I know it means nothing now, but I love you. From the moment I set eyes on you in that forest for the first time. And it’s taken me a shamefully long time to realise that,” because one didn’t know what they had, until they lost that one person who brightened their dark days. “You should have shot me an arrow, kill me on the spot, and you wouldn’t have suffered this much because of me.”

It felt like an empty, meaningless confession. No number of words could mend the havoc of his doing, the wounds of your heart. Only actions could.

“I know I have no right to ask, I lost that privilege the moment I lied to you. But… if you were to take me back, I’d take you away tonight, now. Damn, even if you don’t take me back, just say the word… I’d make sure you’d leave here tonight,” he husked out, heart in a fist.

You didn’t speak for what felt like an eternity. Your eyes studied his face, weighing your options. And he hoped you’d take up his offer, regardless of your feelings for him. Marcus would risk everything to right the wrong he’d caused.

“You lied to me. You let them take me away,” you sobbed, furrowing your eyebrows. “You just stood there… have been standing there in front of me for weeks… and you did nothing…”

It wasn’t accusatory, you were just stating the facts. Ones he couldn’t and wouldn’t fight you back on, because you were right.

“I did. I don’t have any excuse to offer for my behaviour other than I’m just a stupid coward.”

“You are…” you trailed off, but didn’t lean back away from him, staying still in his embrace. “But you’re here now,” you swept away the tears, some determination returning to your eyes. “You were too scared, and I was too proud. While I don’t condone you lying to me, I can see why you would. Your hands were tied as much as mine. And with Gaius and his henchman following us all the way from Bracciano to Rome… there truly wasn’t a way out there where both of us left unscathed.”

Marcus’ heart had stopped pumping blood the moment you started talking. He could honestly not believe his ears. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, not after how badly he’d handled everything. It just felt damn wrong.

“While it might take some time for me to forgive, if I ever fully can do so, I do understand the situation you were in,” your bottom lip trembled, your words choking out.

“Oh, mel,” with tears in his eyes, Marcus dropped his hands from your shoulders. “I don’t want you to forgive me, I deserve every ounce of resentment. I deserve your hate.”

“I don’t hate you, Marcus. I love you and that’s what’s made everything way worse,” a feeble, tiny smile curled your lips whilst your delicate fingers wrap around his wrist. “And if you do love me back as you say… take me away from here, please. I can’t take it anymore. He will… he will break me for good if I stay.”

His heart jolted. He truly wasn’t deserving of you, of your love. Not after everything he’d done — or didn’t do. Closing the gap, Marcus hugged you again, pressing a soft kiss on the crown of your hair, allowing himself to inhale your sweet scent.

“I’m getting you out of here tonight.”

Marcus had kept his promise. He’d broken you free of the Antonius’ household that same night through an underground tunnel that connected the cellar to a nearby temple. The religious servants that worshipped Mars had left for the night, so escaping had been relatively easy.

Leaving Rome, however, had been a totally different matter. It was obvious that Gaius had noticed your absence, because the next morning a small entourage of legionnaires accompanied your captor to Marcus’ home. Luckily, Marcus had seen it coming and instead of going home with you, you both stalked out his place from an empty house nearby.

You had to wait till nightfall to flee, grabbing some indispensable belongings and also Marcus’ gladius, bow and arrows. Going northwards to your homeland was out of the question, given that Gaius and his brother would expect exactly that. So with a heavy heart, you accepted that you’d never return to the place you were born. Instead, Marcus had suggested to travel southwards to his hometown, Barium.

It had taken you five days to get there, feet swollen and exhausted from so much walking. Circumventing the town, you had reached Marcus’ family home. The farm had been abandoned, vines growing on the burnt façade of the small two storey farmhouse. The fences were destroyed, thick and lush vegetation taking over the farmland surrounding the building.

When you first landed eyes on the dilapidated house, Marcus’ face had torn with sadness. He didn’t speak as he approached cautiously and neither did you, giving him time to process. It had to be really hard seeing his childhood home crumbled down to its foundations, a pool of happy memories long forgotten coming back.

He showed you around, the inside of his home as bad as it looked on the outside. It was obvious people had taken the last possessions of his family, leaving behind the things that were not salvageable after the fire. The walls were still black with soot and ash, some parts of the ceiling had collapsed, the thick wooden beams becoming dust the moment you touched them.

The house was destroyed, the land barren. And Marcus stood there — steadfast, impassible. Or, at least, trying to contain the emotions running wild through his tired features.

Despite his betrayal, his lies… you felt for him. The first few days in that cell after the guards had taken you away left you with too much time in your hands. Time to overthink, to analyse, to worry yourself to death. In the end, you had come to realise that, although he could have done things differently, you understood why he couldn’t bring himself to be honest with you.

Because truth be told… you didn’t know what you’d done had the roles been reversed. If the battle after the siege of Alesia had ended in your favour, if you had taken Acacius hostage and brought him to your father… Would you have disobeyed your father’s orders of executing him? Would you have gone up in arms against your own people for someone you didn’t truly know?

Probably not. Definitely not.

So, you could only make peace with what had happened. Never forget but perhaps work towards forgiveness. Because, whether you liked it or not, you loved him. Despite how much you tried to flatly refuse that notion, you did. You fell for him, for the little details, the unspoken care, his easy demeanour. His gentleness. His heart, a bit rough around the edges, but the perfect fit to yours.

It was almost derisory. A trick of fate placed him in your path, an imminent collision of stars. Unavoidable. Final. As if Cathubodua Herself had put Marcus in your path for a reason.

“This was my room,” Marcus’ low whisper brought you back to the mundane plane.

It was a small, rectangular room. A broken window let the light in, shining on the tiny dust particles floating around. A bed with wooden posts, a wardrobe, and a chest. There was rubble everywhere, but otherwise pretty much intact.

Acacius walked through the debris and knelt in front of the chest. Taking in a deep breath, he lifted the heavy lid. You peeked above his shoulder, getting a glimpse of his past.

He chuckled; a sad gurgling noise stuck in his chest.

“My mother loved Saturnalia. It’s a festivity we celebrate in December to honour Saturn. Every year she’d made a sigillarium for me. She had a theme going on, they were always shaped as soldiers from the Roman army,” he took a terracotta figurine out, his thumb caressing the piece with reverence. “A centurion, a tribune, a legate… On my last birthday here, with them, she gifted me this.”

Marcus raised to his feet, handing over the figurine he was holding close to his heart. You took it with extreme care, afraid it would break between your fingers. The perfectly preserved sigillarium was that of a General with a black armour, a golden Medusa on the center of the breastplate. Just like the one Marcus wore in battle.

“Excuse the terrible paint job, I was never born to be an artist,” he joked, but you could see the anguish in his brown, tearful eyes. “I was so obsessed with becoming a General one day, I even wrote my name on the sole of its foot.”

You turned the piece around to inspect it and there it was, his name scrawled by a young hand.

“It’s beautiful,” you muttered, heart up in your throat. “Sounds like your mother was an amazing, loving woman.”

And he’d lost her. His father too. How alienating that had to be for a young lad with no other family.

“She… was,” Marcus barely husked out, briefly overtaken by grief. “It’s been a long time since I thought about all of this.”

You put the figurine back in the chest and laced your arms around his waist, hugging him close. He soon enveloped you too, his good hand landing on the back of your head.

Time went by, neither of you too sure for how long you both stood there. Until the hug naturally came to an end and Marcus kissed your forehead.

“Right. Enough reminiscing. Let me clean this room up a bit, we’ll spend the night here and decide what we’ll do in the morning.”

“I can help—”

“No,” he cut you off instantly. “You’re hurt, mel. You need to rest and recover.”

Gaius had put you through hell, the bruising map of your skin changing colour every single day. However, the worst wounds were not the ones visible to the naked eye, but the fragments of soul you’d lost.

And despite the pain, the emotional toll you’d taken, you were not going to let it get to you. Raised to be strong, to overcome challenges, you wouldn’t give up on yourself so easily. Not while there was a reason to keep going. In the last few months, you had lost nothing and everything. But you were ready to get it all back.

Before you could retort, Marcus guided you to a chair and got to work. Hours passed while you talked and shared snippets of your past lives, of family and friends, of childhood memories, while Acacius cleared the room. It was weird how easy it was to talk to him, how the conversation flowed naturally, never running out of topics to discuss.

“Yes, blood baths,” you said, the topic at hand having devolved rapidly into some darker matters. “Literal blood baths.”

“And you just… what? Soak in it for a while?” his confusion was so evident, you laughed.

“Yes, Marcus. It’s believed it invigorates you before a battle.”

“And whose blood is that?”

“Usually animals. Wild boars and the like,” you omitted the fact that some did use human blood, but you were not sure that his righteous mind could take that information and be normal about it.

“Usually?”

Well, he did pick up on it. You just shrugged and couldn’t help but cackle when he paled a bit at the realisation.

“I’ll stop asking questions now,” he shook his head as he laid the animal skins on the bare mattress, the room finally clean.

“For your own good, yeah, might as well.”

“Let’s eat something. Something that doesn’t bleed, preferably,” he jested, offering you a hand to stand up from the chair.

After picking up some vegetables and fruits from around the farmland, Marcus and you reconvened to show each other your findings. Some fruit trees had survived the fire as well as bushes. There wasn’t much though, considering how cold it was outside, but you would make do with what you had.

You dropped a makeshift basket on top of the chest and stepped aside for Marcus to see.

“I see you’ve gone for the berries and nuts,” he said, picking up a chestnut. “These are so sweet, here, try.”

He cracked it open and passed it on. You nibbled it, surprised of how sweet it actually tasted. The ones you had had before were bitterer, drier.

“Oh, wow, that’s amazing,” you ate the rest of it, almost licking your fingertips. “Look how plump these cherries look, I’ve been dying to try them since I picked them!”

Your hand darted forward, grabbing a handful of dark purple cherries — they looked so juicy and shiny. As you brought them to your mouth, Marcus’ fingers wrapped around your wrist, his eyes slightly widened with a sudden fear you didn’t comprehend.

“The bush you picked these from, did it have lilac bell-shaped flowers?”

“Yes?”

“Do not eat those,” he stole them from your hand, throwing them back into the basket. “That’s deadly nightshade. It’s very poisonous. A few of those berries and you wouldn’t live to tell the tale.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, your heart pumping wildly as you swiped your hand on your clothing. “I didn’t know.”

“Let’s go wash our hands in the stream nearby, then we’ll eat. Need to make sure there are no traces of those berries on your palms, okay?” he gently put a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his eyes soft again.

Perhaps it wasn’t a feast fit for kings, but it was definitely tasty. Marcus had found some pomegranates, figs and pears, and along with the chestnuts, cranberries and almonds you’d found, you both were full.

Night had fallen with a thick blanket, the stars bright and clear in the sky with a full moon illuminating the farmland around the house. Despite how desolate it all looked, it was tranquil and beautiful. You could see yourself living off the land, growing old, so far apart from humanity no one would bother you.

As you laid in bed with Marcus, you wondered what he would think of that. All his life he’d worked hard to escape this very destiny, and by whims of fate, he’d ended up exactly where he’d started.

“I like it here,” you ventured as he covered you both with the warm animal skins.

Marcus stirred under you, finding a comfortable position, but it was obvious your statement had unsettled him a bit.

“It’s not too bad,” he replied, nuzzling your hair. “I suppose that when you’re a child, everything looks worse than what it actually is. I never realised how much I missed this place until we set foot here this morning. I did have everything I wanted and needed. I wonder what my life would have looked like if I stayed, if I’d have been able to…”

He trailed off, but you knew what he meant. If he would have been able to save his parents, to put out the fire before it engulfed everything. Your heart squeezed a little — it was hard not to develop feelings for a man like him. Even when he’d let a beast take control of you. At least, he had rectified that.

“It’s never good to dwell in the what ifs, because you’ll only hurt yourself with scenarios that might or might have not happened,” you offered him some words of wisdom, kissing his jawline while your thumb traced invisible circles on his sternum. “Besides, if you had never become a General, you wouldn’t have met me.”

“And wouldn’t that have been a good thing?” he blurted out with his eyes glued to the ceiling, his guilt showing again.

A side of you agreed with him. But, at the same time, deep down you knew it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. The Romans would have won anyway, your people starved out after a month-long siege. Someone else would have taken Marcus’ place, someone who would have felt no remorse in delivering you to a beast and disposing of you, without giving you a second thought.

“We will never know,” you nuzzled the crook of his neck, his warmth seeping into your body. “And that’s the point I’m trying to make. It doesn’t matter. I believe in fate, in Cathubodua. She knows the outcome of every warrior in battle. Everything that has happened to me, to my people, was destined to be.” It didn’t make it easier though.

Marcus let go of a heavy sigh, his lips brushing your forehead with a gentleness that tugged at your heart. Because as divided as you were, as messy as this all was, your love for him was undeniable. Perhaps it was fated. Perhaps you had to suffer before you could live the life you wanted with the man you loved.

“Your goddess is definitely capricious. But I guess it makes sense,” his hand rubbed your shoulders, soothing your bristled skin.

“She gives the toughest battles to Her strongest warriors,” you joked, because that was what your father used to say.

“Well, She isn’t wrong about that. You’re the strongest person I know, that’s for sure,” he rasped, your sights locking in.

When he leaned in for a kiss, you met him halfway. The dance of tongues quickly mutated into something more intimate, more passionate. Every time you playfully retreated, he’d come and find you, dragging your tongue into his mouth. Marcus propped his elbow against the mattress so half his frame would blanket you while you just melted under his touch.

His free hand played with the hem of your shirt, unsure of what to do. The fact that he just didn’t assume what you wanted reassured you that he was, indeed, a good man. With your palm against the back of his hand, you slithered both under your garment, and when his fingers finally cupped one of your breasts, you let go.

“Are… are you sure? I don’t want— I don’t want you to think— I don’t want to hurt you. I’m happy with just holding you tonight, knowing that you’re here with me,” he confessed with a trembling voice that warmed your heart.

“I’m sure, Marcus,” you peppered kisses on his lips, his chin, his neck — anywhere your mouth would reach. “I’ve missed you.”

With a feeble smile, Marcus leaned down again, your lips fitting perfectly as his thumb swiped your nipple gently. The fondling on your breast became more pleasant with every stroke and once your taut button was all worked up, Marcus proceeded to pay the same attention to your other boob.

In no time you were breathing heavily under him, wanting to get rid of the barriers between your bodies. You fought with his shirt, and sensing your desperation, Marcus helped you get rid of it and everything else, until you both were bare in front of each other.

Marcus was kneeling on top of you, his thick thighs to either side of yours. He looked so mighty, so perfect, it was hard to ignore how handsome he was. Built like a god, you’d worship him in his temple every single day if you could. And while you devoured the sight in front of you, his weeping cock ready to take you, his eyes lingered elsewhere.

You were so lost in the moment, you’d forgotten the map of bruises dotted around your whole body. But Marcus hadn’t — you could see his irises darkening with every bruise he discovered, every mark on your skin. For the last few days, you’d done your best at covering them, but now it was unavoidable.

Gaius had done a number on you, he’d been relentlessly brutal. Every night you’d fear his mood. When he’d get you out of the crate he’d thrown you in, you knew there would be hell to pay, even though you had nothing to do with it. The month spent with him had been your darkest time, his imprints on your skin ones you wished away every night.

“I’m so sorry,” Marcus ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose. “You didn’t deserve this. I should have acted sooner. Damn, I should have told you when we were at Lake Bracciano, give you the opp—”

“Marcus,” you called, gently removing his hand from his face so he would look at you. “What’s done is done. Let’s not think about the what ifs now, alright? I’m here now, wanting you inside me, erasing the imprint of…” you choked for a second, unable to put it into words. “Creating new memories. Can you do that, please?”

“I swear to the Gods that I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, mel,” Marcus leaned forward again, his chest flush with yours as his fingers caressed your neck. “I love you.”

Even though it was the second time you had heard those three words strung together, this time around it felt… warm and hopeful, not desperate and hopeless.

Your hand landed on the back of his neck to push him down, your mouths crashing again.

Marcus painted a love map on your skin, his lips pressing kisses on every bruise he could find, awakening the side of you that had been dormant since the moment you left his side in the stables. Soon enough his kisses travelled south, too far down. When he settled flat between your thighs, nipping below your belly button, one of your hands darted to his head, grabbing a fistful of his curls.

“It’s okay, cor meum (my heart). Let me make you feel good, please,” he cooed, and you couldn’t resist.

Freeing his hair, Marcus slithered further down until his mouth kissed your inner thighs. A little shy, you tried hiding your core, but his insistent pecks along with his broad shoulders coaxing your legs apart melted away your last defences.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled, his warm breath fanning your glistening skin. “You are so wet already, sweetheart, and I haven’t even touched this sweet dripping nook yet.”

Before you could say anything, he lapped at your entire slit in one stroke, leaving you gasping for air and moaning his name. Marcus didn’t stop there, urged on by your little whimpers as the tip of his tongue found your hooded clit. He twirled and swirled and latched onto it, your clit throbbing in no time as Marcus ate you out expertly.

Drunk with lust, he nuzzled the tip of his nose on your nub, almost sending you over the edge when he inhaled sharply, feasting on your womanly scent. His mouth soon found your leaking hole and stroked it softly, outlining the circle of your entrance with the tip of his tongue. The moment he dipped it in, you mewled uncontrollably, grabbing onto the animal skins for dear life.

Marcus fucked you with his tongue until the tense coil inside you snapped, a million stars bursting behind your eyelids. Holding onto his hair now, you pressed his face into your pussy, screaming and shaking as you shamelessly came on his mouth. He drank your release eagerly, lapping you clean.

A last kiss on your stimulated kiss, then on your mound, and Marcus finally emerged from in between your legs with a triumphant smile, his moustache and stubble soaked with your cream.

“You taste so good, want to try?” you almost missed his question, your heart beating so hard it was deafening, but you managed to nod.

Marcus climbed up your body and bowed down for a kiss, which you eagerly reciprocated. He tasted sweet — no, you did.

“I need to be inside you, sweetheart. I can’t hold it much longer,” Marcus said almost between gritted teeth.

Gazing down, you saw his throbbing cock resting heavily on your mound. The head was glistening with precum, dripping onto your skin, leaving a beautiful pearl behind. Your cunt gushed at the prospect of housing him, needing him as much as he did you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist and with your heels dug in his buttocks, you pushed him into you. Understanding the unspoken invitation, Marcus aligned his seeping cock with your slick hole and slowly dove in, your walls parting, sheathing him as you were meant to be.

Fully seated now, Marcus kissed the tip of your nose to then rest his forehead against yours. You felt so full, so blissed, there wasn’t room in your mind for anything else. His weight on top of you provided an extra layer of warmth and protecting, his forearms framing your head.

Neither of you spoke, but when Marcus pulled out and back in, you both moaned in unison. His pace was cautious, loving, gentle. His hips waved as he softly fucked into you, drinking your moans in a messy kiss. But it wasn’t long until his slow rhythm devolved into something more urgent, more primal.

Marcus thrusted in more harshly now, the tip of his cock dragging along your anterior wall, hitting the right spot every time. He was pumping into you so hard now, that your whole body swayed under him, no matter how strong you held onto his shoulders. The slap of skin meeting skin and your shared arousal gurgling every time he hammered into you sent you into overdrive.

You climbed to the top of your pleasure, Marcus helping you get there quickly. With one last push, you finally came crashing down, your pussy juicing around his girth while your inner walls hugged him tight, clenching and pulsing wildly, commending him to follow you into a blissful orgasm.

“You’re too damn tight, holding onto me like that,” Marcus grumbled, fighting against his own climax now. “Mel, please let go, I can’t—”

You shook your head no, digging your heels into his ass cheeks again so he would continue to fuck into you, chasing his own climax. Finding relief within you. You squeezed your walls around him, wanting to milk him.

“Shit, are you sur—?”

“Marcus,” you cut him off, eyes hazy with desire, mind numb. “Come inside. Fill me up, warm me up.”

With a strangled moan, Marcus’ head fell in the crook of your neck whilst he rutted into you like a man possessed. His cock pulsed inside you, and you consciously clutched around him at the same time you raked your fingers through his sweaty curls.

Until he finally spilt inside you, his warm seed coating your walls with his pearly white. And when you thought he was done, Marcus surprised you with yet another spurt, his spent filling you up to the brim.

Marcus crumbled on top of you, his softening cock still snug inside your pussy, his whole body weight crushing you. But instead of suffocating, it felt calming, soothing. For a long while you both stayed there — you drawing invisible lines on his back, and him kissing every bruise until you both fell asleep on his tiny childhood bed.

Hooves. A clip-clop sound in the distance, slowly approaching. The wind carried a command, “They’re here, find them.”

At first, Marcus thought it a dream. But soon he realised it was no product of his imagination at all. The voices were very real, threatening the peace of his home. Even though he knew who they were, he still needed confirmation.

Getting up from bed, careful not to wake you yet, Marcus peeked through the window. His fear materialised the second he recognised Gaius and three of his goons. They were on foot, although Marcus was sure of what he heard, therefore suspected they had left their horses hidden away somewhere nearby.

You both had to leave. Now. There wasn’t much time to do anything about it — chances were not good when you were doubled in number, and you were still recovering from your injuries. He could take some lives with his, but would prefer not to get to swordfight if he could avoid it.

Lurching forth, Marcus tapped your shoulder with urgency, his thumb brushing your cheek as your eyelashes fluttered open.

“Mhm?” you mumbled, sleepy, as you rubbed your eye with the side of your hand.

“They’ve found us. Gaius is here, mel. We need to leave,” he urged you, helping you up when your orbs finally popped open with alarm. “Listen to me. We’re going to be fine. Their horses must be on the back, tied by the river. We get there, being as stealthy as possible, and we leave.”

“Marcus,” you exhaled, panicky, as you stood up.

He could see the memories flooding your mind, your eyes blurry with pain. His heart cried for you, for the harsh times he’d put you through. But you were right, there was no time to dwell on the past, he couldn’t change it. But he could protect you now, learn from his mistakes.

“Grab the bow and arrow,” he hurried towards the pile of armour, putting it on as fast as he could.

You gave him a hand, tightening the leather strips to secure the breastplate in place, and then took the weapons, while Marcus seized his gladius. Right behind you, Marcus guided you through the rubble to get to the back of the house. The voices were closer now, prominent as they talked to each other, clearing the rooms they’d already checked out.

The backdoor connecting the kitchen with the backyard was blocked with debris, so Marcus helped you up the window. When your feet landed on the ground, he perched himself on the windowsill.

“Acacius!” Gaius’ guttural groan made him turn before he jumped off the window.

The man’s features were distorted by rage, spit flying off his mouth when he repeated his name again. The sight of him made his blood boil, his primal instinct asking him to make him pay for what he’d done to you. But he couldn’t risk your safety again. Perhaps one day he could act on it.

With his heart pumping hard, Marcus veered around and jumped off the window. Your widened eyes told him you’d heard your captor’s voice now. The horror they emanated just made his chest swell with regret.

The men were too close, he doubted you both could lose them in a chase. Had he reacted sooner, perhaps you could have escaped the house before they set foot in it. But now, with them on your heels, chances were slim.

If he wanted to give you a fighting chance, to delay these men, he knew what he had to do. And, surprisingly, the decision was easy to make, as easy as breathing really. It was the least he could do for you and if he made it out alive, then he’d make sure to find you afterwards. But the reality was, he knew he wouldn’t survive fighting four men on his own.

“No matter what, you run. You run for those trees and don’t look back,” he desperately asked of you. “You hear me? You keep running.”

“Marcus—”

“You keep running,” he punctuated every word. “Promise me.”

“I… I promise,” you muttered, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now run. I’ll be right behind you,” he pushed your shoulders.

As soon as your feet rushed beneath you, Marcus stopped a few metres behind you. Swirling around on his heels, gladius on hand and standing his ground, Marcus faced the men giving you chase.

If this was how he died, it was a noble way to go.

Running on pure adrenaline, you ran as fast as your feet could take you. Your heart was thudding in your chest, climbing up your throat, your lungs burning. Everything hurt, this strenuous effort not aiding your healing at all.

“Marcus—”

When you turned around, just a few feet away from the forest’s boundary, you realised he was nowhere to be seen. You scanned your surroundings nervously but couldn’t locate him. He said he’d be right behind you, so where the fuck was he?

Coming to a complete halt, you looked in the distance and your heart plummeted to the depths of your stomach. Marcus had stayed behind to win you time. To sacrifice himself for your freedom.

“No, no, no, no,” you chanted as your heartbeat rang anxiously in your eardrums.

Desperation took over you, not being able to come to terms with what was happening. You wouldn’t let him do this, not if you could avoid it. Dying for you was not the way to mend your wounds, it would only make them deeper and more painful.

No, you were not letting him do this.

Retracing your steps, you ran back towards them. As you approached the fight, closing in the distance, you saw three bodies peppered around on the ground, unresponsive and bloody. From the distance you couldn’t tell who they were, but when your frightened eyes landed on the two figures exchanging blows, you knew they were Marcus and Gaius.

When you were only fifty meters away, a bunch of branches crunched beneath your feet. The noise, which should have gone unnoticed, alerted Marcus of your presence. His focus redirected at you for a second, eyes wide with fear for your safety, opening his flank to Gaius.

“Marcus, no!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, trying to alert him of Gaius’ next blow.

You shouted too late. Gaius struck Marcus to the floor, your lover’s sword jangling when it landed far from his hand.

Time stilled, everything happening at very slow motion.

Gaius towered behind Marcus, grabbing his hair to have him on his knees.

You stopped right in your tracks, pulling the bow above your head.

Marcus’ eyes locked in with yours, a silent plea for you to keep running, to stay away from this, all while Gaius placed a sword right in front of his neck.

You slotted in the arrow, aim clear, your target Gaius’ forehead.

Gaius laughed.

You let go of the shaft, the arrow flying fast towards them.

And just in the nick of time, before the arrowhead met Gaius’ head, your captor sliced Marcus’ throat.

“NO!” you wailed, dropping to your knees, fingers digging in the ground while your heart got obliterated right in front of you.

The arrow kissed Gaius’ forehead, then he tumbled back and fell backwards, the sound of his bodyweight not being half as satisfying as it should have been. When Gaius’ fingers let go of Marcus’ head, Acacius dropped to his side, a river of red staining his armour.

As fast as you could, you rose to your feet and skidded through the mud when you got to Marcus’ side.

He was still bleeding but was long gone. Life had abandoned his brown orbs, now dull and opaque. Marcus was still warm as you cradled his battered body close to your chest. For the first few minutes while you held him, you felt nothing. But when his body began to turn cold in your embrace, reality set in.

He was dead. The man who brought you here, the man who lied to you, the man who saw his own weakness and decided to change, the man you loved, the man who sacrificed himself so you could escape.

Perhaps the outcome would have been different had you not alerted him of your presence. What if he hadn’t heard you? What if he hadn’t been distracted? What if he had won Gaius, had you obeyed his orders? What if his death was your fault after all?

“It’s never good to dwell in the what ifs, because you’ll only hurt yourself with scenarios that might or might have not happened,” you had told him not long ago.

There was no point to overanalyse everything that had happened. What was done, was done.

Still hugging him, you cried your sorrows and regrets until the day bled into nightfall. When your eyes finally ran dry, you dragged Marcus’ dead body inside. You managed to lay him on his back on his childhood bed, and took the time to clean the blood off his skin. Sutured the gash on his neck too, changed his clothes for fresh ones, and checked Marcus’ belongings.

He still had some coins in his saddlebag. You found two denarii, which you grabbed before returning to his deathbed. Carefully, you placed the coins over his shut eyes — you knew some of the Roman rites, having seen them being performed after battles. It was payment for the ferryman who would carry Marcus’ soul over to the Underworld.

Then you snatched the sigillarium he’d shown you last night—the one his mother gifted him of a General with his name carved in the sole of its boot—and placed it on his chest. You hoped his parents were right there waiting for him, welcoming him with open arms.

You knelt by his side, keeping vigil, while your thumb gently stroked the back of his hand.

Your future was uncertain but clear at the same time. You were deep down in enemy’s territory, with no way of getting back to your homeland. Alone, with no friends and Marcus dead. Your father would probably be paying now for your escape, for Gaius’ and his men’s deaths.

There weren’t many more options at hand.

So you stood up, sauntering towards the baskets with the remaining fruit from last night. The purple berries were still there, and Marcus’ clear words suddenly came back to you.

“A few of those berries and you wouldn’t live to tell the tale.”

It was apparent now why you would have picked them. Destiny knew.

With no doubt left stalking you now, you picked ten of them and one by one brought them to your lips. Slowly you chewed them, the rich sweetness of their flavour a welcome taste on your tongue. It was true what they said, that death was sweet.

You returned to the bed where Marcus was lying and climbed on it, you curled up against his side and kissed his cheek one last time. Taking a few deep breaths, you let yourself fall in an eternal slumber.

Perhaps you’d meet him in that underground cave, perhaps he’d be waiting for you.

Perhaps this was how it was all supposed to end, what was fated from the beginning. What was truly meant to be — a lovers’ struggle, a lovers’ tragedy.

A lovers’ end.

[tcwtbbocdatabase]

Master list of OCs and their creators

Divider by @saradika

* Volume 2 *

@crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf ‘s OCs:

Tah’nyem Ra

Diva ‘Kahtzi’ Zho

Jar’ath Saijen

——

@dystopicjumpsuit’s OCs

Cerra Kilian, Pt 2

——

@wrenkenstein’s OCs

Juno Caheere

——

@talesfrommedinastation’s OCs

Dr. Sjael Drummer

Dr. Tanke Drummer

Timon Chapelle

Minor OCs of 'Far Past The Ring'

The OCs of Into the Techiverse!

——

@gars-weaponeer’s OCs

The Weaponeer

——

@mae-lou-ron’s OCs

Cha'vena Satu

——

@eternal-transcience’s OCs:

Misc OC Masterlist (Ylandra sisters and Tempest Co)

——

@ghostymarni’s OCs

Aev the Mandalorian

——

@lonewolflupe’s OCs

Lupe

Sergeant Ragnar

Lone Wolf Squad

CT Sling + CT Boar

——

@frostycatblr-fandom-files’s OCs

OC Master List

——

@dickarchivist’s OCs

Grave Squad

——

@pinkiemme’s OCs

Pod

Clone Medic Sev

La’mya

Krys

——

@mythical-illustrator’s OCs

Helena Hemlock

Grace Talzindottir

——

@wizardofrozz’s OCs

Nali Bosac

CT-2697 Sawbones

——

@eclec-tech’s OCs

Dr. Miran Threst

Lieutenant Luvari Tulren

Jheyla Krim

——

@perfectlywingedcrusade’s OCs

Dala

——

@leenathegreengirl’s OCs

Leena Joo’csei

Kayden Joo’csei

Chori

Nez

Sylvianna Davika

Lilia Raina

Callia Kestrel

——

@nika6q’s OCs

Jules Genoa

Hend

——

@clonethirstingisreal’s OCs

Wren

Willow

——

@rexxdjarin’s OCs

OC Master List

Mari Vontas

Zeeta

Teza Kirso

——

@milkcioccolato’s OCs

159th- Talon Assault Squad

——

@vimse’s OCs

Silvio “Silvie” Rea

——

@sergeanthunterx’s OCs

Raine

——

@c0rn-fl3x’s OCs

Leor Firstar

——

@legacygirlingreen’s OCs

Mae Killough

Perdita Halle

Marina

Valérie Glie

——

@book-of-baba-fett’s OCs

Talia Riva

——

@multi-fan-dom-madness’ OCs

OC Masterlist

——

@chumsterfire’s OCs

Clone OC Roger

——

@ulchabhangorm’s OCs

Sadhbh mLir

——

@eobe’s OCs

Owl Squad

——

@crosshairscrustysock’s OCs

Vidia

——

@jedi-hawkins’ OCs

Bryn-Ayla Del Caro

——

@emmasbadbatch’s OCs

Ellora Clev and Ipsi

——

@thesmollestnerd’s OCs

Commander Alpha-69 "Feral"

——

@defectiveandeffective’s OCs

Selene Amsel

——

@the-osborn-way’s OCs

Day Syndarra

——

@orangez3st’s OCs

OC Info

——

@moomoog017’s OCs

Arian Garali Info, Arian Art

——

@carbon-corrie’s OCs

Loth-cat OC Rat

——

@noirrart’s OCs

OC Masterlist

Clone OC Cinder, formerly known as Clone OC Hindsight

Clone OC Manta

——

@reader6898’s OCs

OC Master List

Nandia Rhayme

Zorra

Lexi

Clone Medic Jax

Ka’li

Amara

Lana

Talia

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

I don't know if you can do it but if you can (want to), can you do child Atsushi and child Akutagawa in teyvat with teen reader.

Or they could be with normal Ages too!

If you were not alone

Part IX

Characters: Self-Aware! (Child!) Atsushi Nakajima, Self-Aware! (Child!) Akutagawa Ryunosuke

Reader: Teen! GN! Reader

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Physical age regression (Atsushi and Akutagawa remain their memories, mental age and abilities, but physically were turned into children). Platonic hug.

________

🐯🧥 After you, Atsushi and Akutagawa woke up in Teyvat, you tried to find both good and bad in your situation. Bad № 1 - you were transported into Teyvat, without your phone and without any idea of how to go back. Good № 1 - Akutagawa and Atsushi were with you. Bad № 2 - They, somehow, become children. If the situation was better, you would tease them for being an older sibling now. Good № 2 - Their memories were intact. Bad № 3 - You were on Dragonspine in your normal clothes, that wasn't suitable for this mountain. Good № 3 - You ended up in Durin's cave, so, for now, you were warm.

After the analysis you came a to a conclusion - situation was a bad one, not a good one or neutral one. How are you supposed to get down from Dragonspine? The closest people to the cave were Fatui solders, and you don't want to go near them. And you weren't sure, if Albedo visited this place at all. Atsushi and Akutagawa offered to use their abilities to get down from the mountain. However, there were two problems. First - it was almost nighttime, and you don't want to wander around Dragonspine at night. Second - none of you were sure, that Beast beneath the moonlight and Rashomon still have the same power level.

You three decided to sleep in a cave and rethink the situation in the morning.

You fall asleep, listening to a Durin's heart beating.

🐯🧥 The dream you have was strange. Like... You could see everything, that was happening around the Dragonspine. Hilichurls, boars, Fatui, members of Adventure guild... You even saw Albedo in his lab. Yet, you couldn't move. You saw, feel all of them at the same time... Strange dream indeed.

'Durin could not move, but he has remains of his will. It was hard, but he left the message in Scarlet Quartz's pieces near the lab. He knew, who was sleeping near his heart. Creator...'

🐯🧥 You woke up because of Atsushi's and Akutagawa's angry shouts, the smell of burning firewood, toasts, fried onions and tomatoes. The moment you opened your eyes, you saw Albedo, together with Klee, were trying to calm Akutagawa and Atsushi, while trying to keep an eye on the fire. Albedo calmly tried to reason with your older(?) brothers.

"Please, we don't mean any harm. We just want to help."

Well, it seems, you got some luck on your plate.

🐯🧥 You jinxed it. Yes, you had breakfast, and Albedo brought warm clothes. But, the biggest threat was soaring above you three. Because, if Albedo wasn't lying, soon you will have a bounty on your head and an angry mob chasing after you. On your meek "But... what if I told the person on the throne, that I don't want to be in charge and only want to return home" Albedo responded with "The Cursed Brat won't listen. They won't change their mind."

You three were in danger. And you need to move fast. Chase after Alice. To get home.

Albedo couldn't help Atsushi and Akutagawa became adults again. But, he said, that they would either get to their original age soon enough, or Alice could help with that.

And, according to Albedo, she was on her way to Fontaine.

Albedo gave you supplies and helped you find a boat.

Your journey has begun.

🐯🧥 Almost near Fontaine borders, you three were captured by Fatui. You were brought to the House of Hearth. You three were separated. Atsushi and Akutagawa were with other kids. And you were kept in the basement. In a hidden dungeon.

🐯🧥Atsushi hated the House of Hearth. While it wasn't as bad as his previous orphanage, this place still felt rotten. Especially because of the other residents.

"Poor brothers, the Sinner had corrupted you. Don't worry anymore. Father will protect you." Lynette, as Atsushi learned her name later, couldn't finish the line. Akutagawa still can't use Rashomon, but, the knowledge about self-defense was still with him. And Atsushi knew, how to throw a punch without white tiger's help.

Two ten-year-old boys were throwing punch after punch, hitting Lynette.

"Don't you dare talk about [Y/N] like that! They are our sibling!" yelled Atsushi. Akutagawa growled, trying to bite Lynette's ear.

Both of them were restrained and locked in a storage room.

They could hear, how Lyney and Freminet, who locked them, were whispering about "poor kids. I hope, it's not too late."

When the voices disappeared, New Double Black tried to make up a plan.

Akutagawa whispered.

"Did you learn, where [Y/N] are, Man-tiger?"

Atsushi shook his head.

"No. You?"

Akutagawa shook his head in return.

"No. This damn place is too big."

And, Atsushi could bet on it, other kids were keeping an eye on him and Akutagawa. They can't search the orphanage freely. But they knew, that you were still here. Something tells them, that your... "Punishment for being an Imposter" won't be quiet and hidden.

🐯 They were talking the rest of the day. And no good effective ideas were proposed. Atsushi hated it. He hated to be small and powerless. He hated, that you were in danger. If only his ability was here...

Atsushi's eyes slowly focused on the small window. At the full moon.

The transformation was painful. But, the white tiger has returned.

🧥 Akutagawa didn't pay attention to Atsushi or moon. He was thinking about you. You were his little sibling. And he was your protector. And he can't fail his job. He just needs… Just need his power. Akutagawa almost shouted.

"Rashoumon: Tenma Tengai"

And black tendrils finally came to life.

And the black hellhound has returned.

🐯🧥 Huge feline were shuffling the air, like it was trying to find something... Or someone. Yes... His family were missing. Tiger cub were missing. Tiger saw, that dragon knight was here. He will help find tiger cub.

Akutagawa, in his Rashomon's armor, climbed on tiger's back. Rashoumon's tendrils ripped off the door.

Their search has begun.

🐯🧥 You were half glaring at Arlecchino. The Forth Harbinger has been visiting your cell every day. Trying to convince you to be reasonable. She won't let you and Shin Soukoku go. She saw a chance of having her own loyal Creator. And she won't lose her chance.

Her voice was calm.

"Be reasonable. I can protect you and two kids you were traveling with. All I need from you is to be an obedient godling, child."

You breathe in, but stayed quiet. You already begged Arlecchino to let you three go. She didn't. Maybe, if you tried again...

🐯 He could smell it. Faint scent of his tiger cub. He snarled, following it. His tiger cub was in danger. Dragon knight on his back destroyed doors, that were on their way.

They reached the basement. And white tiger finally found his tiger cub.

🐯🧥 The door behind Arlecchino fell apart. Before Harbinger could react, familiar black maw sank its fangs in her shoulder and threw her away. The door of your cage have no chance against white tiger and Rashomon.

Immediately, you were hugged by Akutagawa, and the huge feline rubbed his head against your torso, chuffing happily.

Happy tars flow down your eyes.

"Guys! You are here!"

Akutagawa, before answering, put you on tiger's back, sitting behind you.

"We would never abandon you."

White tiger waited, before you two sat on his back, and started to ran off.

You three left the House of Hearth behind.

🐯🧥 Tiger were running all night, until sunset. Then Atsushi transformed back. Then the tears and hugs came again. You three were finally safe, Atsushi and Akutagawa were adults again. Now you can focus on finding Alice.

🐯🧥 It took two more weeks, but you managed to do it. You found Alice. And you finally went home.

____________

🐾 Reunion was tearful. Your fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts and siblings were happy to see you. They were happy to see Atsushi and Akutagawa.

🐾 Your stay in Teyvat were scary. But, one thing you knew for sure. Doesn't matter, what age they were, your brothers Atsushi and Akutagawa will protect you.

_______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

[sunflowersbones]

I'd never dare change thee; To what thou art not

Warnings: This fic will contain DUB-CON, Incestuous relationship, Stepcest, Manipulative behavior, Coercion. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

[step-brother! LOKI x reader]

Summary:  Secrets; their poison so vicious, they twist and turn one’s mind, subjecting them to unimaginable agony. The shadow of its despotic veil keep even the god of mischief awake at night. The prince does not bode well with secrets, and you must bear the brunt of it.

DIVIDERS: @silkholland l BANNERS: @vase-of-lilies

*

You can still remember the very first time you saw him; the memory fresh on your mind like a blooming moonflower.

He carried himself with the same poised demeanor that his company held yet his presence was a juxtaposition from the women and child he followed. His raven hair was as dark as the beautiful night sky whilst theirs was a burning gold, shining like the sun.

Frigga’s tranquil smile that had been graced upon you had slowly morphed into a pained one. It now resembled that of your mothers except of course it lacked the burning body, the tired eyes and the hushed voice.

Elders always had a way of communicating through silence, the act much frequent in your abode as of lately. You didn’t think much of it, elated to finally be in the company of your peers.

So, as they shared their woe, you spent your time playing with your guests. While one was loud and rowdy the other was silent and mischievous. However both of them were kind to you, they included you in all their little shenanigans; unlike the children from the neighborhood. Their departure had saddened your heart; the loss of a new found friendship was not one a little faunt could bear. However, little did you know that the universe would sew your lives together with golden threads that would slowly turn into a charred black…

Your mother’s death does not weigh upon your mind anymore, you were too young to properly remember anything anyway. But the fear that brewed within you upon entering the golden palace was not something that could be easily forgotten.

You’d lost your father when you were just a babe and your mothers chide was the only reprimand you’d ever received. Allfather’s voice and stern demeanor was too much for your little spoilt heart to bear.

You remember crying in your chambers all through the day, neither Frigga’s words nor Thor’s joy could ease you. While Loki’s silence was comforting you still felt a weight upon your heart.

It was his little bag of tricks that had finally put a smile upon your face. You’d been in awe of his magic; always having deeply admired snakes, their presence had provided the distraction your mind had needed. You slowly caressed their skin as they slithered around, only daring to after seeing Thor do the same. Their skin gleamed the most beautiful emerald, resembling that of their creators’ eyes. The boy adorning a shy smile at your joyful giggles.

Frigga’s love was bounteous, and soon you found that behind Allfather’s stern countenance lay a loving heart and an even kinder soul. Your brothers while reckless were the most joyful company one could ask for. Your new home had loved you to an extent that almost made you forget where your true parentage held. Now they were all that you knew and you loved them as truly as they loved you.

You sit still as the maids work on your hair; adorning it with gilded pins to style it as their heart desired. Their exited whisper surrounds you as you admire their work through the looking glass, hoping that they wouldn’t notice your lack of interest.

Your mind has been preoccupied since the sun had risen. Heart sullied by a nightmare; it was the same one that always haunted you. The memories of your childhood betrayal­­­; ­the day of the royal hunt.

The three of you had been mischievous enough to sneak out on your own. Thor was convinced that he could kill the biggest boar, his excitement was infectious and neither of you paid any heed to Loki’s concerns; eventually convincing him to join you in on your adventure.

It was your fault that the two of you were lost, you had decided that you wanted a victory of your own to present and decided to separate from the blond prince.

Now Loki couldn’t possibly leave you all alone thus obligingly accompanied you on your mission, one that would turn into a catastrophe within minutes.

You were so deep within the shadowy distorted woods that even Loki couldn’t recognize the way out.

You remember clutching on to him for dear life, his own hands wrapped around yours protectively. Yet his eyes betrayed him, they always did. You could see the fear that brewed within him, one that he wished to hide behind comforting words.

So, when you heard his voice shouting at you to run; you did. With all the strength within you, abandoning him there as he distracted the yellow eyed creature that hid within the dark bushes, those which had stopped you on your tracks; made you forget how to breath.

No amount of crying or consolation would let you forgive yourself for what you’d done. Loki escaping, encountering Allfather and returning safely was simply luck bestowed by the universe.

You did not care that the latter was livid at all of you for your disobedience nor that you might receive severe punishment.

While your tears still did not stop, they were now mostly of solace as you wrapped your arms around Loki’s, slowly falling asleep to the comfort of his presence beside you.

You had promised yourself to never abandoned him again. The pledge still in your heart, you find yourself making your way towards his chambers rather than Thor’s. Yet the cowardice in your heart can’t help but force you to slow down your pace impelling you rethink your decision; what if he doesn’t want to be comforted? what if he does not wish for your presence right now?

You push yourself through. You do not know, and until he has made his wish clear you will not presume. You are ready to provide him with whatever it is that he wishes, may it be solitude or company.

You slowly walk into his chambers, your footsteps resembling the softness of the ray of sunshine that lightens up the chambers.

You find him lounging on the window sill, his elbow lazily placed upon his knee as he looks out through the window. His helmet is polished and placed upon the table, the sunlight reflecting off of its pristine surface as it forms a bright stripe over you; blinding you. You move forward to admire it and carefully run your fingers over its marvelous horns.

“Careful. You do not want to get cut; now do you pet?”

He turns his head around, eyes now landing on you. A sly smile on his features as you sheepishly smile back.

“You look marvelous.”

You grin as you slowly spin around, the small tinsel on the dress spinning around along with you.

“I had to; mother insists that we wear the same colour.”

“Well… you do look the most beautiful in gold.” He replies.

“Yes, but I prefer green. It suits me better.”

His smile remains as his eyes flit away again into whatever tranquility he had earlier achieved.

You slightly part your lips and sigh as you close them again. Your eyes drift around, unable to form any words that seem appropriate for the moment.

“Are you nervous?”

“Me? Of course not. Why would I be?”

“I believe you’ve miscalculated your steps sister. The brother whose coronation tis today resides a few chambers away.”

You tilt your head at his jest, lightly knocking his shoulders. Yet as you look into those eyes you feel your heart grow heavy, you’re certain his does too.

Many things have been left unsaid, you’re unsure if it is the appropriate time to bring it up. If there ever will be.

No matter what they say, Allfather’s words have been etched into their hearts from a very young age; they deem their worth through his eye and the throne. It is what they have both desired all their lives…

You are no god and your words will go unheard but you do not believe that one deserves it more than the other. Both excel when they are together, their mistakes more turbulent without the other.

Thor needs Loki to restrain him before his temper entices him to an act he repents and Loki needs Thor to impede him before his own mind consumes him. Yet the throne will only go to one, your heart aches for the other that is left behind.

“Are you upset?” You eke out your voice a whisper but he hears you all the same, he seems slightly surprised by your honesty but not encroached.

You notice a slight glint in his eyes as he moves closer to you.

“I will admit; there is a part of me that is slightly burned by envy,” you feel a cold weight upon your arm, its soft skin slithering against you as it moves upwards.

No matter how convinced you are, that they were simply projections it never fails to amaze you how real Loki’s magic felt.

“I’ve looked forward to this day for a long time. There is a conviction that surges through some part of me, one that believes that I would do much better than him.”

You feel its thick body coil around your neck its weight resting upon your clavicle. The head moves towards you and you hear its gentle hiss near the shell of your ear.

“He is my brother and dear friend; I do believe in him. Never doubt that I love him.”

His lean fingers moves forward as they intertwine with yours. The reptile bestowed upon you moves downwards your left arm, its tail lightly grazing your neck.

Its head now moves towards its maker as it slowly coils around his arm. Half of its body still attached around your arm; its grip does not loosen. The force of it pulls you towards Loki. Both of your arms now tightly intertwine by the coiling snake.

“I never would. I believe you Loki with all my heart.”

His eyes flit over you as he leaves a hard breath, lips forming a straight line.

The sound of thunderous steps dissipates the bubble that had been formed around the two of you as Thor’s booming voice follows.

“Of course! you reside besides him when it is I that require your urgent attention, and no I am not nervous. I do not need your comforting words, you must simply regard my wear.”

He stands tall in his shiny armour, yet his knuckles are pale with tension as he tightens his fist. His anxiety and excitement all culminating in an ensemble of energy.

You hear Loki’s slight snicker as you chide at him with your gaze. A sympathetic smile upon your face as you turn towards the eager prince, your heart swells at his radiant beauty.

“Quit befitting for a king, I’d say.”

The blond envelops you in his strong arms as he picks you up, his laughter contagious as he presses a strong kiss upon your cheek.

The corner of your lips slightly frown at the scent of ale that pervades through.

“Couldn’t you at least wait until after the coronation to start drinking Thor?” You chide, only to receive a cheeky smile and an unbothered sway of his head.

“I’m sure the ale helps him with his nerves.” Loki snides.

“I’m not nervous.” Thor booms as he moves to attack his brother but Loki sways away just in time.

However, upon the blonds second attempt he complies as they playfully embrace each other. Your heart swells with warmth and you can only hope that the future holds the same exuberance.

Lest to say, your prayer was unheard. You knew Thor too well and preferred to stay away from his company at times like this. His anger knew no bounds and you were sure that the servants would have to deal with his ramifications.

You lay down on your soft silk in hopes to ease your mind, but no amount of twisting and turning could calm your nerves.

How could anybody possibly have slipped through the ever-watching eyes of Heimdall. It was impossible yet it had occurred, you are certain that this was no coincidence. They had every opportunity before yet they aim to destroy your brother’s coronation. Who’s to say they won’t try again? what if it wasn’t just the casket they were after, what if this was an assemble for an attack?

Your mind twirls in agony and you barely hear the doors to your chambers swing open.

You feel your bed dip beside you and even before you turn around you know it’s Loki, had it been Thor the silence would have been destroyed ages ago.

You feel his eyes rest on you as he leans his head onto his knuckles, his elbows placed on your raised pillow.

“There is something I must confide in you.” His voice a timber, as his fingers move to slowly caress your wrist.

“You must promise to stay calm and do as I say.”

“Thor is adamant on paying a visit to Jötunheim. I must go along with him.”

Nothing had prepared you for what you had just heard, you were sure that Loki would simply be complaining about Thor’s antics.

“Is he insane? are you insane? Do not go around abiding to his wishes!”

“He is adamant Y/N. I cannot stop him.”

“We will not be all alone, his little troop of yay sayers will be coming along with us.”

“This is not Midgard. You have never been to Jötunheim before. It is dangerous.” You caution, trying to put some sense into him.

“Well, that doesn’t seem to be permeating into his thick skull.” He says his tongue clicking in annoyance.

“But if Asgard is in danger, then nothing wrong in going there to find some answers.”

You wish to retort back, but your own fears regarding the future resurfaces. You cannot blame them for feeling the same.

“How do you intend to pass through Heimdall?”

“I’m sure I can find a way.” He winks.

“What must I do?” you sigh.

“You must tell Allfather imm-

“What no! this is not child’s play Loki. Father will be infuriated.”

“I do not wish to extend our stay any longer than what is necessary. Thor will not comply.”

“It is only father who can put some sense into him.”

“But-

“Simply do as I say pet, please.”

“Yes.” you whisper as your slowly nod your head in weary compliance.

You decide to remain in your chambers the whole night. Father’s stern look towards you before rushing away has assured you that both Thor and Loki were going to bear severe consequences. You’re unsure how Thor would react to your bad faith. You do not wish for either of their wrath upon you, thus you find yourself hidden away in your chambers at least until dawn.

You try to busy yourself with one of the books that Loki always carries with him. It is only your eyes that skim upon the words, mind too preoccupied to truly understand anything.

Just as your eyelids weight upon you, you hear the sound of the doors creaking open. Confusion fiddles you which slowly turns into dread as you glance upon Loki’s ashen face.

He barely acknowledges you as he walks forward and seats himself on to the bed.

He plummets back letting his upper body fall onto the sheets, eyes shut in exhaustion.

“What happened?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes still remain shut as his slow breathing continuous. Frustrated; you spring up from your chair on to your bed. You gaze at him for a few seconds before shaking him as you whisper again.

“Loki, what happened?”

His eyes blink open and stare at you, the look in his eyes unreadable. He sits upright again but now refuses to look at you, his gaze on the floor. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out except another exasperated sigh.

“Thor has been… banished.”

You wish that your ears are faulty or that this was simply Loki’s jest, yet his eyes tell you differently. You knew that Odin would be angry but you did not expect to such extent.

“There must be something that can be done, let us request to father, beg him to change his mind.”

“There is no point.”

“Loki, he is in a faraway land all alone, for how long who knows. We cannot let this happen to our brother!”

“He is no brother of mine.” Loki shouts, fire in his voice as his arm slaps against the bed and he storms forwards.

“Do you know? Or am I the only jester at this court.” His eyes gleam a mean look towards you; one you’ve never been at the receiving end of.

“Know what?” you whisper.

His eyes find the floor again a small sigh meddled with exhaustion.  His eyes turn to you again before darting away and you feel your heart break at the glaze in his eyes.

“Father has been rather deceitful.” his voice strains, pain etched all over it which suddenly turns spiteful.

“You know it all makes sense now, why I’m always just a shadow to Thor’s gleaming shine.”

“Loki what nonsense ar-

“I am not his true heir.” he barks, teeth clenching as his fingers dig into his palm.

You know not what to say.

“The casket wasn’t the only thing that he brought back from Jötunheim; there was a runt along with it. Odin has always had an affinity for souvenirs”

“Loki, do not say such words.” You move forward to hold his hand but he retreats back slapping it away.

“What!? that I was not just a stolen relic. That I’m not a monster? the same one that I’d sworn to slay to ease your mind, to put you to bed. The one everybody hates.”

“Stop.” you scream. The only time your voice went octaves above his; the whole of today. His lips are closed but his frown remains.

“You cannot possibly imagine what it was like to change into that… thing. To feel the frost rush in through me and numb me.” His throat bobs, the sorrow in his eyes unbearable.

You slowly move towards him, his feet remains planted where they are, you take it as a sign to continue.

“No. I cannot know, and I’m so sorry that I could not share your pain.” you whisper, arms raising up, fingers slightly trembling as they move to hold his face between your palms.

“But what you believe is not true. I love you. Mother loves you; Thor loves you and so does father. We would never hate you, we couldn’t.”

“The whole world does.” He bemoans.

“Damn the whole word! We are all that matters, nothing has changed, Loki.”

His breath falters as he stares at you. You feel an eternity pass through, as his hatred, anger, love and affection all mingle into one as he gazes at you, before he completely breaks down.

His legs buckle as he kneels down, his whole visage shaking uncontrollably as his tears refuse to stop.

In all your life you don’t think you’ve ever seen Loki cry. Even after a brawl with the other boys or his brother, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body, he’d simply grit his teeth and endure it.

You hated it, seeing him like this broke your heart; irreparably so.

You find yourself crying as you kneel down beside him.

“There was– there was an argument, and… fath– father seem to have succumbed into an Odin sleep.”

You heave a sigh at your family’s misery, grasping onto the reality of the situation.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But it is, I–

You move to wrap an arm around him, hand slowly caressing his back. You embrace tightly, refusing to let his own words torment him.

You softly press your cheek against his, his own hands wrapped around your waist in order to steady himself.

The cool night air swirls around your bodies, slowly seeping in to heal the wounds formed by the heat of your words.

You tilt your head to the side as you place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“It is not your fault.” You whisper again feeling a compulsion to.

His own eyes shut as his breathing slows. Both of you sink into the floor, his head rests onto your chest and your fingers slowly swirls through the end of his hair while the other wraps around his torso to hold him close to you. The cool surface of the floor comforts you as you both remain still, too tired to say a word.

You walk through the large expanses of the corridor; the palace seems to slowly be recuperating back. Its movements slowly resembling its old patterns, yet the absence of the prince and the king seems to ring loud.

You carefully step around the foliage, holding onto a few strands of random flowers that you picked; clustering them into a miniature bouquet.

You can hear mother’s tune carried to you through the air from a distance. You bunch up your skirt as you make your way around.

Upon the stone near the high wall Frigga resides gazing away, humming her tune. She turns around as she senses your presence and slowly bids you towards her. Her smile as warm as the resting sun.

You seat yourself beneath her, head resting on her lap as she accepts the flowers you gift her. Her fingers slowly comb through your hair soothing you.

“I hope you don’t feel neglected. I apologize, I could not find you for days, my child.”

“Mother,” you reprove “of course not, father needs you. And maybe Loki too… they are in more distress than I, you need not worry about me.”

“That does not make it any easier now does it, my dear.” She whispers.

You simply hum in response as you close your eyes, time seems to be clicking slower every day as your worry increases in an unequal proportion.

“Will- will Thor be, alright?” you eventually ask.

“Of course, he will. You forget your brother is not a child anymore.”

“Yes, but he is without his powers, without Mjölnir.”

She remains quit for a while.

“Thor is much more than his powers; he will come to find that. Even if he was in distress, I’m certain he will find a way out.” She holds determination in her voice as she continuous.

“Nevertheless, worrying about it will not change anything; I tell your brother that, but all Loki seems to do these days is worry. He has a forlorn look in his eyes; I can never tell what he is thinking about.”

Her voice might be calm but words betray her, you know that she worries more than anyone. You close your eyes again as you lay, trying to forget, as you listen to the cicadas chirping away…

You walk towards the study your conversation earlier with Sif still fresh on your mind, its bitter taste lamenting there. The maliciousness in their voice evident.

Loki is seated behind a stack of books and papers as they surround him. He seems to notice your presence but pays you no heed. His eyes glued on as he scans through the sheets.

You move over and sit next to the window, gazing out into the darkness; a stark contrast to the lanterns lit in the room you reside in.

“I suspect Thor’s friends do not believe that the council wishes for you to be king. They were rather… disregardful.”

His attention still remains on his work, predetermined to not care for any other matter.

“What they believe is of no consequence to me. I will be loyal to my burden nonetheless.” He mutters from behind.

“They are trying to find a way through.”

You turn around and look at him, he now looks back at you, the quill trapped in between his fingers; its tip no longer touching the paper.

There’s a sudden rush of anger in his voice, a contrast from his earlier calm behavior.

“They are idiots! There’s no point. With his powers gone he cannot summon the bridge; and even with that, Heimdall won’t disobey Odin’s orders.”

“But you are king now, there must be something you could do.”

“Y/N. My first command cannot be undoing all father’s last. Thor cannot be helped.”

“What will he do? He is all alone.” You feel your eyes watering up.

“This is his own doing.” He stands up, the screech of the chair upsetting you further.

“You should have stopped him. I should have stopped you.” You wail.

“Why?”

“What-

“You know him just as well as I do, you know how he is. Is this really what Asgard needs from its king. A temperamental, impulsive, fool.” He hisses.

You feel offended on Thor’s behalf as Loki’s hypocrisy grates on you.

“So are you; temperamental, impulsive and a fool.” you shout; clenching your teeth.

There’s a dark glint in his eyes as he moves around the table. A patronizing smirk as he leans back on the edge of it.

“His absence seems to overshadow my presence in your mind. I’ve always wondered why that is? why he’s always so favored.”

“Were there whispers at the meadow? dreams in your heart? A coronation and then a wedding… everything blissfully set apart.”

“Were promises made?” he inquires.

“What do you mean?”

“Do not pretend to be a fool, it is unbecoming of you. Do you truly not see the way our subjects view the two of you.”

The frown between your brows deepen as you register his words, “What are you accusing me of!”

“Nothing you aren’t already being accused of; the position of the queen is well coveted.”

Your movement was instinctive, if you had a moment to think you would not have done it. The sound of the slap echoes in the air as the red impression of your fingers form upon his fair cheek.

“How dare you. Thor would have you tongue for that.”

“He would? Not you? must he save your honour now.” He goads.

“I’ll do it myself if you don’t leave this very moment.” Your voice trembles.

He suddenly seems to realize the pain his words have caused. A sliver of shame seeping through him as he gazes upon your sad eyes.

“I apologize it was uncouth of me, I-

“Leave.”

He stand still then suddenly turns and leaves. You turn around unable to comprehend the conversation you’ve just had, the taste of its poison choking you as it leaves.

It’s been days since you’ve seen Loki, your last conversation leaving very little to say. The quietness of the palace was reeling your mind; every wall felt littered with secrets, every servant’s glance felt like an accusation. You were unsure what you were accused of but your heart felt the weight of its guilt.

That is how you found yourself riding through the bejeweled road of the Bifröst. Begging the all-seeing to let you through.

“Please Heimdall.”

“Princess, please do not plead me for something I cannot grant. I do not have the permission and I believe you do not want the king to know.”

You turn around begrudgingly, there was no point. But stop as his voice peeks out from behind you.

“I do not wish to speak ill of the royal family but is my duty to protect you, you may have my tongue if you think it fit.”

“Please, speak freely Heimdall.”

“I turn my gaze upon the new king when he finds himself in the cold lands, and I can neither see him nor hear him.”

His voice echoes the same notion that you have heard before. You thank Heimdall for his grace, unsure what else to say as you make your way back to the palace. Uncertain of the confrontation to be held ahead.

Your sandals slap against the floor, as you drag yourself. Hogun’s words of a traitor within the house ringing through your ears.

A part of you wants shun yourself for even thinking so; but there is only one whose cunning magic could hide himself from Heimdall. Your dread slowly turns into anger and the lack of answers forces you to want to believe what you’ve been told; still, you wish to hear it from him.

You swing the door to his chambers open wanting to satiate the anger within you, and yet as his eyes find you; your will collapses. Your eyes find the ground as you feel them tear.

“Are you here to argue again?” he sighs, “I’d rather finish some work before we get-

“Have you been to Jötunheim? You will not lie, not to me.” You plead. His eyes remain on you, face placid as he takes a deep breath in.

“Yes.”

“Traversing through the Bifröst?”

“No. The Bifröst is not the only means for travel, there are ways around it.”

“Did- Did you show them their way in, during Thor’s coronation?”

“Yes.” He admits.

You gasp in horror as you feel your legs collapse, he rushes over to you. You move back as you swish your hand in anger, backing away as you hold on to yourself.

“Is this a coup? If so please end me first, because I cannot bear to see you tear up our family like this.” Your composure breaks and you find yourself sobbing nearly uncontrollably.

“Is that what you think of me…? I believe I’ve been wrong about you.”

“You are. I am not poisoned with greed; unlike you I do not covet the throne.”

“It is not greed.” he shakes his head exasperatedly, “It is not wrong to desire what one deserves.”

“I deserve the throne and I deserve you; much more than Thor ever will.” He snarls, as he moves forwards, hand latched on to your chin as he forces you to look at him.

“It breaks my heart to know you think I’d hurt you. I’ve only ever loved you.”

You feel the heat of his breath upon you, his hands moving down towards your shoulders. The force of his grip now stronger, his confession meddling with your inability to answer.

You sigh, and prepare yourself to speak but before you can, you feel his lips upon yours, the soft small gesture nearly shaking your entire soul.

He parts away from you to look at you again, your eyes now solely focused on his lips. Your eyes flit up towards his, you feel your cheeks burn at the sight of his flushed face so near to you.

He moves both of his palms to cradle your head between them, his lips finding yours again; now more fervent than before.

His right hand moves to the small of your back as he pulls you in closer. His feet moving back as he drags you along with him.

He seats himself on to the bedding, hands never leaving you. His lips leave yours, and you finally breath. The heat of his kiss still warm on your lips. He uses this opportunity to push you upwards, forcing you to straddle him.

His left arm moves to intertwine between your hair as he slightly tilts your head to the side, leaving hurried kisses along your neck.

His other hand palms at your breast, grazes your stomach as he moves it around to pull you in closer. You feel a sudden hardness press against your core even through the layers of clothing.

Your body rock itself, desperate to increase the friction between your bodies. Hand moving now to intertwine between his dark locks.

His hands moves down beneath your underskirt. Slithering his way in as he cups your core over your breechcloth, the feeling sending shivers down your whole body.

Your body moves upon his and he moans. He makes quick work of undoing the threads of his pants, and you feel the hard length of him against your thigh.

The feeling causing goosebumps all over your body, his lean fingers graze your quim as they work to move your cloth to the side. You feel burning shame course through you at that, which only increases as he uses your wetness to stroke himself.

You feel him aligning himself to your folds. The fear of the situation slowly transmits through you and you hurriedly try to push yourself off of him. Yet his grip remains tight on you.

“Hey, hey look at me, I love you alright; I love you. Nobody can love you as much as I do.”

He whispers into your mouth as he moves his hips upwards, pushing himself into you. You feel your mouth part at the slow movement. His grip on your thigh tightens, nails digging in as he pulls back slowly, however within a second rams into you.

You lose inhibition at that, your own body desperate for control as you ride him. The large expanse of you skirt falls around his lap, covering him and refusing his attempts to push it away. His teeth lightly grazes the shell of your ears as he groans at the feel of you tight around him.

He plants open mouth kisses along your throat, through your clavicle to your chest. The triangular cut in between your bodice feels the softness of his lips as you shut your eyes in pain and pleasure.

The pace of his movements increases as he pushes his face further into your bosom. You feel his long nose against your ribs as you pull him closer. The desperation of his movements oscillating you. He snarls as you feel him lose himself insides you. The sudden heat and wetness of it coating your insides.

You feel the heat around you slowly dissipate. The cloud around you loses its form as the horrors of what you’d done crawls on to you.

But before you can voice your words, he turns to the side throwing you onto the bed. Your head hits the soft cushioning of the pillows and you yelp as you feel Loki’s weight on top of your body.

His hands more desperate now. His knees move to spread your leg apart, his frustration at you gown still evident as curves his arm around the back of your knee and hikes your left leg over his shoulder.

You nearly lose your breath at the sight of him in front of you, his fingers dancing upon your legs. He tilts his face as he kisses the pearled brooch atop the welt of your hosiery, his eyes refusing to leave yours.

Your lips quiver as you feel him push himself into you again, much easier than earlier. Your leg bends as he moves forward, his chest now pressed against yours.

The wider space easing him to push into you completely as he slowly increases his pace, his movements much more deliberate now. You feel his heart upon yours, both of them beating in the same rhythm as they twist around each other.

His face edges closer to you as his lips find yours again, your hands flail and move around to hold onto his shirt, bunching it in between your fingers.

Your nails digging through it into his flesh. You feel a pressure build up within you and your unsure if you want him to stop or keep going. You feel your mind aching for something, and just like that you feel a rush of ecstasy course through you. Your whole body shakes and you feel the ache slowly seep through you.

Loki pushes himself off of you and falls beside. He laughs into a slow sigh, turns to his side and rests his head upon his raised knuckles.

His other hand moves your dress to cover you. You turn away from him pushing your face into the soft pillow, unable to look at him.

He hums as he slowly caresses your hair. Your eyes well up again and you feel a tear drop flow through the corner of your eye.

“Time will never forgive us, it will never let us forget what we are.” You wail in a near whisper.

“We know who we are.” His voice filled with reassurance.

“Our blood has already been tainted, dear sister. Nothing we ever do, can taint it any further.”

*

[idkfitememate]

A Boar! In This Economy? Pt. 2

⋘ Previous Part » ♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Gn!Boar Reader x Bennet & Razor (Genshin World)

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 2k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : crack, fluff

So… you may have head but Razor.

BUT IT WAS IN SELF DEFENSE YOU SWEAR!

He just, POPPED UP outta NOWHERE! How else were you supposed to react?! By not attacking on sight???

So now here we are. With a knocked out Razor on the grassy floor as you and your family of churls and slimes stand over him.

Huh.

You had no fucking clue what you were supposed to do now. Do you… drag him out of the forest? Find a wolf from his pack??

Maybe not the last one cause wolves eat boars…

Anyway.

Dragging him out means that you’d have contact with other characters and you were NOT prepared for that. I mean, at this point you had built such a strong connection with the mobs around you that you kinda forgot about the characters?

You also had to focus on the fact that you were a boar now. Not a human. For survival.

You are now something that poofs into meat after it dies.

So as you stared, you failed to notice a rustling of bushes behind you, but when another human form rose from them…

You ended up kicking Bennett in the head via hind legs.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍧🍫୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

So, apparently churls enjoyed the average human sacrifice every once and a while. Which is fair cause sometimes you gotta let off a little steam, you know?

But not like this.

The two were tied to a rather long stick over a fire as churls of every type danced around while singing.

You simply sat your fine boar ass in the grass looking a little less than pleased at the situation.

As they continued to roast the preteens over an open fire like chestnuts, you finally realized that “Holy shit they are actually cooking them I need to stop that-“.

And stop that you did!

By spitting up the equivalent of a lake onto their fire.

…Cool.

As water logged churls stood by in shock, you began to nibble at the startlingly strong vines wrapped around the duo.

And by gods those were strong vines.

But your jaws were stronger.

And now you have two children at your feet, drenched and still somehow passed out Jesus it’s been a few hours how hard did you hit them?-

And now you had no clue what to do. Right back at the same dilemma that made you hesitate to save them. Wtf do you do with them now???

Your hesitation was apparently apparent as you felt a had rake through your fur. Looking back you noticed a hilichurl petting you softly, gently directing you towards an opening in the forest.

Allowing it to guide you, you found that a couple adventurers from the guild calling out for Bennet.

Fuck.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍧🍮🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Now they were tied to a tree deeper in the forest. Only difference is that they were now awake.

And thrashing about.

And maybe a bit sacred.

You sat on your haunches in front of them as they thrashed against their bindings. Something you noticed was that they weren’t using their visions.

…Weird.

Anyway as you continued to stare at them and them at you are they pulled against the vines, you noted that Bennett had stopped and was now just staring at you.

He was opening his mouth.

Holy shit was he gonna speak to you?

“Hey there little guy..?”

HOLY SHIT BENNETT SPOKE TO YOU-

“W-would you be a good little boar and get help?.. or something?.. please?”

Your only response was a snort, then you turned to Razor. You wanted to see if he’d have anything to say.

(Not that that was gonna change anything you’d still help them-)

“Uhh… Good boar? Friendly boar? Boar smell weird… boar help Bennet and Razor??”

Yep you loved them.

Giving a small squeal, you finally made up your mind. This was enough human interaction for a while, so you’d find a wolf, bring it back and then let it guide them to the Wolvendom in order to drop them off with Razor’s pack.

While you stood triumphantly with small sparkles surrounding you, the two boys sweat dropped at the sight of a somehow smug boar?

Boars can’t move their faces like that, can they?

Bennett hesitated… can they?

Coughing and shaking his head, Bennett finally noticed you were walking away and the hardcore growling Razor was doing.

“Hey! W-where are ya going little guy?” He called out.

You just turned, snorted, then continued on your way.

“W-wait!”

“Stupid weird smelling boar…”

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍫🧁🍭୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Trotting across hills and avoiding the odd traveler as best you could, you finally found yourself at the Wolvendom. Shaking off your nerves, you head inside.

You slowly made your way through the grass, acutely aware of all the wolves surrounding you. Letting out little huffs you found yourself in a clearing.

A clearing….

Wait….

OH SHIT-

“Hello little one.”

ANDRIUS YOU FORGOT ABOUT ANDRIUS-

“What is a small boar like you doing here where it is not safe?”

His voice had a teasing tone to it, which confused you. This was the literal Wolf of the North, the man who embodied wolves. An actual GOD of the pack. Why wasn’t he hunting you down on sight???

Your confusion was plastered on your face, causing the wolf to chuckle.

“As a creature connected to Teyvat, did you not expect me to realize when The Creator stands before me? My head bows to you, O Mighty One.”

And now a kneeling Andirus was in front of you, as well as seemingly every wolf in the forest.

… So they weren’t going to eat you. Nice to know.

As you tried to communicate with the large blue and white wolf what you needed, only small squeals and oinks made it out. God this was pissing you off. With the churls, they just seemed to know! While it would be nice to talk with someone, you hadn’t needed to for a long while. This was bullshit! Now you’re getting pissed off!-

“Breath my Lord. Have you forgotten?”

Forgotten what? Huh?-

“It seems you have, the boar is not your only form. Any beast that has its soul connected to the heart of Teyvat. Every creature, every animal, they are you children. You have taken the forms of all as you encompass all. Try taking the form of a wolf and speak to me.”

He was acting like a god damn tutorial. Which… was actually fairly needed in this time of… well, need.

So you could do other animals huh? Let’s just see about this. Focusing all your willpower into it, your skin began to shift and turn, fur growing longer… slowly you transformed…

Into a fucked up half boar half wolf abomination.

AND JESUS DID IT HURT-

Loud whines and whimpers mixed with loud squeals and barks left you maw as you hopped around, before forcing yourself back into your now more favored form, a boar.

Yeah never again. You’d rather struggle.

Sighing and placing ‘shapeshifting’ on the back burner for now, you simply walked forward and grabbed some of the larger wolves fur in your mouth in order to drag him. Staring down he let out a small chuckle (He can chuckle???) and began to walk forward, allowing you to trot in front of him.

“Of course my Lord, lead the way.”

Thank the gods he had nothing to say about that mishap. (Maybe he was scared of you smiting him… hehe…)

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍪🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Keeping a brisk pace, your small form had finally found itself in front of the two boys once more. It seemed as though they had tired themselves out from struggling, but we’re still awake. And Bennett’s eyes lit up upon see you. As they should.

“Hey there little guy! Did you get h-h- OH MY BABRBATOS!-“

Andrius, in all his glory, walked behind you as you sat there with a somehow even smugger expression than before. A large abundance of wolves had taken their place behind him, looking like a sea of grays and blacks.

“H-h-h-h-h-“ You’ve broken Bennett, now to check on Razor.

…The poor wolf boy also looked shocked.

You slid your tusks under the vines and pulled, snapping them off and allowing the boys to fall to the grassy floor. And then two hilichurls gave them their visions.

Oh. So that’s why they weren’t using them-

You watched as Razor nudged at Andrius and a few other wolves before turning to you.

He was walking towards you…

His hand outreached towards you…

And he rested it gently on your head.

You nuzzled in to his hand as small happy tears began to run down your cheeks. You basically rammed your head into his palm, sucking up all his attention. He seemed shocked, then happily began to rub both his hands into you, a small smile on his face.

Bennett watched with in astonishment, before grinning and laughing, rubbing your back with his hands. And h o l y s h i t did it feel good.

Hell, even Andrius began to nuzzle you.

At some point the petting stopped - which made you sad you will admit - but as you watched them walk off you felt pretty good about yourself because like, you just helped some characters! Even if you were the reason they were in trouble in the first place…

But that’s not the important part!

The important part is now you had some friends! And they were pretty neat.

But now you had to figure out how the fuck to deal with your newfound ‘shapeshifting’ powers… May God have mercy on all vision holders.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍭🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Omake~~ A Boar and two Boys walk into a bar~~

“Is this the onE NO IT IS NOT RUN RAZOR-“

Ever since that day, Razor and Bennett have been trying to find that weird boar that both kidnapped then released them.

The reason they had been out that day was because it was Razor’s turn to hunt for his pack. Sure, wolves hunt in groups but Razor ironically enjoyed hunting alone, but Bennett was always welcome.

Razor had seen the boar, saying that it had “smelled weird”, whatever that meant, and began to follow it. Of course, Bennett lost him for a moment but when he found him, he was met with the back hooves of a boar.

And the rest was history.

When they went around trying to tell the tale of the boar that had summoned Andrius, the people of Mondstate thought it was just that.

A tall tale.

The only person who seemed mildly interested was the bard Venti, but that was quickly shut down when he started trying to figure out rhymes and how to make a song out of it.

So they decided to find it on their own.

“Bennett need to stop running up to boars. Razor will smell weird boar.” Razor had grabbed onto Bennetts shirt while saying that.

“But the faster we find it, the faster we can show it off!” Bennett argued.

The two began to bicker in the field they had been searching in, it was near where the forest they had found the boar in, and the field was currently occupied by boars so common sense dictated that it should be out and about, grazing away.

Of course, you don’t follow their stupid mortal logic.

“Do… do you hear that, Razor?”

“Yeah. Sounds like pig in sky.”

“Well pigs can’t fly so-“

“DUCK!-“

Razor forced Bennett’s head down, pushing them both to the ground as four wild winds whipped around them. A large dragon and a hawk flew by as an equally large lion and wolf speed past.

“The four winds…” Bennett whispered.

Razor sniffed the air.

“AND WEIRD SMELLING BOAR!”

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍮🍧🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

WHOOOOO WHOOOO IM RIDING A DRAGOOOONNNNNNNNNNN-

Today was a good day for you.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Thank you to all who’ve enjoyed Boar!Creator so far! My inbox is always open for requests and what to do with Boar!Creator! Have a good day/night!<3 ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

(P.S. if you want to be tagged, don’t be scared to ask! I’m still getting used to Tumblr, so please let me know if I do it wrong! The same goes if you want to be removed!~ ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა)

(P.S.S. would anyone be interested in hearing about my Genshin OC’s/My personal Genshin AU ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა?)

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ Tag list: @genshin-impacts-me , @resident-cryptid

I apologize to anyone else who wanted to be tagged, Tumblr is beating my ass rn and not letting me tag anyone else! Sorry again!-

[asmodeus0kai]

Imagine this

Reader (and other readers depending on the love interest) is a reincarnated yaksha, with no memories of when they were a yaksha. Each of them are in different regions.

Like the cryo yaksha being in schneznaya (did I spell that right?) And depending on your preferred animal (mine is a Snow leopard) the reader would have those animal features. With the love interests being either Arlecchino or Lynette (depending on readers age.) They tend to hide themselves and accidentally reveal themselves after a while to Arlecchino. Before that they tended to protect the weaker kids that accidentally wandered off from the house of the hearth.

Geo would probably be in the land of freedom, why? Because the anemo yaksha is in liyue. To be honest this yaksha would probably be a kid. There animal features are most likely a wolf (due to me seeing that someone did boar creator already.) This kid tend to wander around at night helping people, due to this people had started calling them a 'mysterious helper'. They are first taken in by Andrius but later found by Jean (or someone else) after Razor told Lisa about them.

Pyro would be in Inazuma and would be a red panda. They would most likely be a team and hang out in a little bamboo forest with actual little red pandas, that don't mind people... Unless you are annoying. I feel this reader would be a trouble maker, for everyone (especially Ei and Miko.) They were first founded by Itto and Shinobi (a long with the gang.) Probably a 15 or 16 year old

Electro would be at Natlan and would probably be a electro wyvern. They would probably be a teen as well but almost a adult. They would probably only help if they feel that someone needs it. They were found first by the pyro archon herself. They are mostly quiet but still a little chaotic.

Hydro would be in fontane as a Nurse shark. They would be a adult with a calming presence and would be caring (like a big sister). They are probably found by Furina or Freminette (I don't think I spelled that right). They most likely are a healer. Their lover interests are probably Furina or Navia.

Dendro would probably be around 16-24. They would be a tiger or Jaguar. They tend to wander around but always come home at the end of the hour or so. They are a little needy but not to the point where it is annoying. They are probably found by Collei or Tighnari. Their love interests are probably Nilou or Dehya (depending on age maybe Collei.)

[noctilucous-sunni]

game developer!creator in sagau that can play around with glitches and bugs, make things spawn or disappear instantly, which everyone perceives as magic or godly powers so therefore you must be the all creator if you can play around with the world as you wish, similar to the matrix in a way :))

(junior?) developer!creator in sagau thinking it must be a dream because how else can you play around with teyvat’s physics as if you’re coding in unity?

developer!creator in sagau saying their thoughts of fixing glitches or adding code out loud and its as if a big code editor pops up in the sky that only you can see which directly allows you to change the world as you see fit (you can even change it to a smaller one)

developer!creator in sagau having too much fun by creating a pen of boars and having them spawn continuously for xiangling and doing the same thing with fish and happily allow klee to go fish blasting forever without even changing the landscape because they can put it back together seamlessly

developer!creator in sagau having too much fun with bombs and spending time with albedo and sucrose in their lab

developer!creator in sagau teasing childe/ayato/cyno during a sparr by making their weapons disappear by muttering lines of code which instead looks like a incantation for a magic spell

developer!creator in sagau drinking with kaeya and venti in angel’s share, only buying one drink but constantly refilling it with their coding prowess causing diluc to frown and later kick kaeya and venti out, but not you, oh not his precious all-creator (that was mildly getting on his nerves)

developer!creator in sagau bonding with layla and kaveh over how stressful university is, complaining and encouraging each other

developer!creator in sagau struggling to figure out how to make themselves fly just so they can try to catch wanderer every time he flys off in a huff or with a teasing mark

developer!creator in sagau being head over heels for dain and trying to spawn a farm of khaenri'ahn flowers, the inteyvat, hoping that he doesn’t hate you because you’re somewhat a god yourself

developer!creator in sagau playing tcg with cyno and tighnari and kaveh and alhaitham and yet completely cheating with their powers just to mess with cyno because they think it’s hilarious and eventually apologize, creating a special deck personalized for him

developer!creator in sagau chatting with alhaitham about the language of code because he’s a little language nerd and learning about how you can literally change the world anytime you want

ALSO i added this real quick, but developer!creator working with albedo to make glasses/contacts because they can’t handle seeing the world in code constantly, they want to experience the world too, plus it gives them headaches

[thecoolnauta]

GENSHIN WITH A TEEN!CREATOR WHO IS LIKE LUZ NOCEDA

So yeah, just some brainrot I though while (crying) doing homework

TW: gn reader, teenager reader (ALL IS PLATONIC), some mentions of bullying but not that many, maybe sm angst and a lot of spoilers abut the archons missions

ALSO VERY BAD ENGLISH, IT'S NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE PLEASE DON'T MIND IT (also I have this feeling that this is gonna be long so maybe it would be part two)

So yeah, you are just some neurodivergent kid, trying to vibe with your especial interest but classmates are being mean like they got pay for it and not very friendly stuff

your dearest tutor (I didn't know If put mother or anything else) decided without telling you first to put you on a weird camp were IN TEXTUAL WORDS: "they will make you think inside the box"

And yeah you weren't doing that shit

Luckly you! some weird... random- CREATURE stole your (insert product of your special interest here) and ran away to a very old wood house you never notice before.

... SCREW THAT YOU ARE GETTING BACK THAT THING

You enter no the house without actually looking back, not minding at all the fact after you cross the old door you ended up in a wild life forest.

When you tried to get back to your city you found out that the door was gone, all the freaking house was gone.

"Don't panic, don't panic, QUENOCUNDAELPANICO, maybe the house had some uhhh… halogenous spores that are making me hallucinate hehe" you said before shouting your lungs out when you bite your arm and hurt... and bleed gold.

You weren't hallucinating, you were in a real place and your blood looked like liquid stars..

"carajo"

Trying to find someone to help you probably run all over the forest you went trap, finding that the animals really liked you and the flowers pratically flourished faster when you were around.

"Heh, this place is kinda nice, maybe I could stay a little longer"

It was night you rested your head over a wild boar who very cheerfully offered to be your pillow, some bunnies cuddle you and a little mockingbird started to sing for you to sleep.

You actually can get used to this, felling so warm, so loved by an unkown earth who seems to let you know all it's secrets...

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEIR PRESENCE IS GONE?!"

"IT'S GONE"

All Teyvat (except for you) heard the cries of the Traveler and their rare pixie

After finding out the secrets of the Hydro archon of Fontaine, they decided to get a little walk before doing missions all over again.

BUT when Aether was resting their head and body on a tree, he felt the divine power and the warm scaping of his body like an armour being destroyed after a very rough battle.

You were gone, you abandoned him.

He almost fall into the sea, if It wasn't for Paimon that grab thim of the braid with all her little strength.

After that he just started to panic and cry all loud and to attack everyting that moves a bit to close to him.

(Paimon had to kick him into his face to stop him but shhhhh)

When he managed to splain himself, It was the turn of Paimon to get panic, only after Ather giving her a berry he had on his pocket she calmed down.

"...So what we do now, Do we tell the others?" the Traveler asked

"Paimon doesn't know, maybe we could them the Archons to-"

"Paimon, look at my eyes and repeat that again"

"Maybe we could..." she stayed quite a long time "yeah maybe they won't fully help us"

"What If we tell Albedo? He knows a lot of things about the Creator!"

"You're right! But we still have some missions to do here..."

"We do them as soon we can, also, we can wrote a letter to him so he would have time to investigate this more" he decided.

"Paimon needs to know now, let's do the request now!"

The flying girl disapeard and the yound boy stayed with a frown.

He could fell Teyvat, It felt different than before, even before he got trapped by the unkown godness.

It feel completed.

Aether just hope that nothing bad happends to all the persons he had the chance to meet. He hoped nothing bad happend to you.

I WOULD DEFINETLY NEED MORE FOR FINISH THIS

[somepsychopomp]

Hi! <3 For the eldritch Athena au: what's the plot for it as you envision it?

Outside of all the snippets I've already written for this AU, I don't want to say everything just yet. I've always been a little wary of putting all my ideas online bc I'm constantly paranoid about someone stealing them or ig plugging them into gen AI and turning my fic ideas into slop 💀

But the abridged plot summary is essentially this:

Ody at the age of 10 slays the unkillable boar that's been terrorizing the countryside for months. Doing so earns him the attention of the boar's creator, Athena.

Athena is impressed with Odysseus' strength and literally carries him off and hides him high in the mountains. She attempts to function as his new mom before he manages to escape and go home to his parents again, but Athena follows him & finds him

From there it's kind of a mess where Athena wants to be Odysseus' sole parent but he desperately doesn't want his actual parents to be eaten by a giant owl, so they compromise. Athena essentially has to co-parent Ody w/ Laertes and Anticlea

Odysseus has a very traumatizing childhood

he goes to war with Athena as his patron, protector, and mommy who loves him dearly and brings him lunches every day (the lunches are decapitated farm animals she stole from the countryside). In exchange for her guidance and blessings, Odysseus must honor his "mother" by bringing her prisoners and dead Trojans for her to eat every night

Ody tries to go home at the end of the war and finally lashes out by disobeying Athena when she tells him to kill the cyclops. They fight and it goes badly.

Let's just say Odysseus' biggest obstacle when getting home in this AU is not Poseidon

and that's that!

[eevee-genshin-blog]

How’d This Happen?!

A/n: First Post! Please enjoy! This was inspired by @idkfitememate Boar!Creator!

I was floating... it’s dark? What..?

I was just playing Genshin Impact... Where am I now..? It’s getting cold... Huh... What’s that light? When you first woke up, you didn’t understand what was happening. But you got isekai’d into Genshin Impact, as a cat. 

You mostly looked like Luna from Sailor Moon... but your eyes. They were like a normal cat’s, but golden, and your pupils looked like Primogems. 

Great... You thought annoyed, you’ve read stories, some get cool powers, others get their phones... but you got a Cat! How unfair, but you choose to feel thankful, you didn’t know if their was anything to this place yet... 

They could have killed you for being an ‘ImPoStOr,’ you mentally mock the name... But you started to wonder and ended up cutting yourself.

Not gold blood. Not stary blood. Or pink blood. It looked like the Galaxy, the drops that lost contact with your skin floated up to the sky...

So... You were a god? How does that work? You were stuck in the form of a cat... So confusing... But you decided to wander around and learn.

=================================================

In the few weeks you’ve been here, you’ve found out the following.

One, the true “Impostor,” had descended here long ago.

Two, they weren’t an animal.

Three, you did, in fact, have a human form, but felines are your ‘Symbolic Animals,’ odd, but you’ve always been a cat person. (You did figure out how to turn back into human, but you didn’t have clothes and turned right back into a cat.)

Four, you can control the different elements; So you decided to be chaotic and make a cat friendly base in the trees and ground so no one would find you.

Five, the mobs didn’t attack you.

So far, when someone’s seen you, you’d bolt. But now, you have a proper escape plan! So, you started working. Of course, you struggled, after all, you weren’t exactly used to being a cat yet, or using the elemental powers. But you managed. 

Thankfully, Tevyat helped you, making sure you found fresh and clean water; giving you cat-friendly fruits to eat, or letting you catch big fishes; making sure the waters were calm if you tried swimming; and the winds gently blew you dry after.

But after a few months, you made a very small cave system for cats, or bunnies now that you think of the size, to travel through. You didn’t fully understand Dendro enough to make a tree base.

More time passed, as you lived as a cat. You didn’t care to keep up a ‘good appearance,’ why should you? You’re a cat in the forests near Mondstadt, staying alive was more important for you.

Time actually was passing so fast because you were so used to your world’s time. So, you didn’t really eat or sleep like the others here. So before you could process, a year had gone by... 

You spend that time playing; chasing seelies, napping with slimes, and visiting some Melusines in Fontaine (Them not telling anyone your the Creator). Letting the hilichurls braid your now fluffy and long fur. 

And you were getting homesick; yes, you were having fun... But you missed your parents, your older brother, your friends... Hell! You missed school, as crazy as it sounds...

No one here called you by your name... No one looked at you... No one thought anything of you now... But it was your face and name being taken by that person... 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, angrily... You didn’t like this as much as you thought you did... You enjoyed being free and not being hunted down... but you wanted to talk to people...

But you joined your favorite Hilichurl Camp, joining in with the fire dance. You were invested into the dance as you breathed Fireballs, of different shapes, into the night sky; Thankfully, not harming any trees, or wildlife.

But, barely missed the boy who was acting like a wolf-... Wait!?

Thanks for reading!! Sorry for my first post being so short, but updates will be slow... Once again, this was inspired by @idkfitememate please check them out!