#and would cry with the first republic

[the-timeless-one]

#this means that enjolras could be from catalunya #somehow this makes sense for me #but I won't start ranting about it because I could be here forever with my silly little theories

Please do?

Okay, first of all, I want to clarify that's the story my silly little mind created

And now, the second thing, the dates

Enjolras died in 1832 and we don't know he's age, but he was in his early twenties (more or less, I guess).

So, Spanish XIX century was... Really something. But, around the time in which Enjolras was born, the Peninsulan War or Spanish independence war started (1808—1814)

If Enjolras was from Catalonia, he would have seen the french invading his country/province (if he was old enough to process something, bcs kids don't develop autobiographical memory until they are 3 years old).

Enjolras' dad would be supporting the french and Napoleon. Which is never the correct option. But I stand by the theory that said that Cosette and Enjolras have the same father. So, the fact that he's which the gabachos (french people) makes sense, bcs he studied in France

The thing is that the French lose the war and the new king (Fernando VII) comes back to Spain, ready to kill some people. And Enjolras' father would decide to move to Paris and our little leader in red would have to say goodbye to all his life, hating Napoleon and that mere excuse of a human being that was his father. And he took this anger and made something productive like learning about the new philosophical ideas, human rights and the revolution, and he decided to take that path

So, that's one of the reasons why Enjolras being from Catalonia is something that makes sense to me.

Also, one of the former presidents of Spain said once "I like people from Catalonia, they do things" and Enjolras did things (like dying).

Now, being a bit more serious, Catalonia has its own history of strikes and revolts. I'm not talking about the independence thing (don't want to discuss that), but the first general strike in Spain started there in 1855 and also there's the Tragic Week (1909), where people from Barcelona went against the conscription, among other things. And I think that's something that goes along pretty well with Enjolras' personality

I don't know if it makes sense, but now catalan Enjolras will live in my heart

[bikananjarrus]

if anyone’s wondering, it is in fact the “his boots are just too big for me, avar” line from elzar’s message that broke me in half

[shield-and-saber]

yeah, so i just finished cataclysm

[padawan-snack-packer]

Do you ever just go about your day, sip your little drink, open your little email, and then remember that Hardcase—our chaos ADHD king, our walking serotonin shot, our human thermal detonator—sacrificed himself with a grin and a quip so his brothers could escape? That he went out in a blaze of glory, piloting a stolen ship with literally no plan except “blow stuff up real good,” and the last thing he said was "live to fight another day boys, live to fight another day"???

Hardcase, who never stopped calling his brothers “sir” even when they told him to quit it. Hardcase, who probably never got promoted because he was “reckless.” Hardcase, who loved flying and loud noises and sunshine and probably didn’t understand why no one ever let him just have fun—and then he died for everyone else. Just. Like. That.

Do you ever remember Echo? Sweet, by-the-books, “regulations exist for a reason” Echo who lost everything and kept surviving anyway? Echo who got blown up during a rescue mission, turned into a cybernetic lab rat, hooked up to machines like a tool, stripped of his name, his agency, his brotherhood—and he still came back.

He came back and found out Fives was gone. He came back and the war was ending only to find out there was no end to begin with. He came back and nothing was the same, and he still kept going. That man has literally had half his body replaced with cyber-grade hardware and he's still more human than some Jedi.

Do you ever think about Fives? Fives who figured it out. Fives who knew about the chips. Fives who died saying the truth. He didn’t go down in glory. He wasn’t martyred. He bled out in a hangar, shaking and crying and trying to tell the people he trusted that everything was a lie. And NOBODY BELIEVED HIM. They said he lost his mind. THEY. SAID. HE LOST. HIS MIND.

Fives who just wanted to be loyal. Who just wanted to protect his brothers. Who died trying to save them all and didn’t live to see a single one freed.

Do you remember Jesse? That sweet, noble ARC trooper who wore the Republic symbol on his face like a badge of honor and who looked absolutely shattered when he turned on Ahsoka. He didn’t want to. You could see it. You could feel the war inside him. But the chip won. Because "good soldiers follow orders".

Do you remember Tup? That sweet, soft-spoken clone who glitched first. Who killed two jedi, because “Good soldiers follow orders,” like he was possessed. Because he was. Because the war broke him open before anyone was ready.

Do you ever remember Waxer and Boil? Waxer who kept an eye on a scared little Twi'lek girl Numa through a war zone. Waxer who died seeing his brothers were turning against each other because of Krell and his lies, and who apologized with his dying breath?

Do you remember that clones had names? Do you remember that they named themselves? That they forged their identities with paint and banter and nicknames and loyalty and found joy in being individuals even when everything about their existence was designed to erase that?

Do you remember that they aged twice as fast and weren’t supposed to live long enough to get tired?

That the GAR never intended to care for them after the war? That there was no post-war plan? That the Empire swept them aside for cheaper labor?

That Rex had to watch his brothers turn, die, disappear, and he STILL fought in the rebellion with a heart twice the size of Coruscant???

Do you ever think about how the clones were raised in pods, trained like blaster fodder, taught to say “Yes sir” and never think twice, and still found ways to be brave and kind and funny and GOOD???

DO YOU???

Anyway. I’m normal. Totally fine. Just sitting here naming my coffee cups after 501st troopers and crying into my caf. Would die for every single one of them. Even Dogma. ESPECIALLY Dogma. And Rex. And Fives. And Hardcase. And Echo. And Waxer. And-

[anyarose011]

Agape

Pairing: Lucius x Reader

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

Part 2 of 2 (Masterlist)

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

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

Word Count: 16.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How you hated crying; and crying and crying.

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

“You would be dead if they did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

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

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

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

“So, you want to share a room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Where exactly do you intend to work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucius fell asleep the second he laid on the hay.

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

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

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

You stopped asking.

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

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

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

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

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

Hebrew.

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

The Roman man began to yell, and you rushed over, speaking to the patriarch of the family.

“What’s going on?” You asked quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

When you moved a few, it read ‘3’.

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

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

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

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

He rose his brows. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you not well?” Isidorus questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

“What has your luck been?”

“Nothing.”

Isidorus hummed. “I could change that.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything to help a woman of the people.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucius nodded. “I’ll accompany you.”

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

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

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

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

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

Lucius stood there the whole hour you had proved yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Away with you, woman.”

You only laughed as the sun was starting to set.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was too fast for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“-Then he’ll be happy to see you.”

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

His said nothing.

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

“-Your shoulder cannot carry-.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you remember where the house is?”

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

“Do you remember?”

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

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

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

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

You furrowed your brow. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something that was, at least partially, your own.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight.” He said your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was…something else strange as well.

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

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

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

And you could endure it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve missed you as well.”

“How’s the farm? Lucius?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll try my best with him.”

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

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

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

The nightmare was unlike any you had before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tears did not stop even after you were finished.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bad dream.” Was all you said.

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

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

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

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

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head.

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

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

“You first.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t hate you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isidorus nodded. “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That I am a fool.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s what I deserved.”

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

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

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

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

“I shall.” He agreed.

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

“This will do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed. “Why do you ask?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can only hope.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will not dishonor you-.”

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

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

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

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

“You don’t-.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll cut it then.”

“I would rather be stabbed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Serves you right, I’d say.”

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

He snickered. “That you’re an astonishing woman who I am blessed to be with."

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

“I’m not lying!” Lucius laughed.

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“The latter.”

“Tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do all that I can.”

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

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

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

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

That was only more apparent on one fateful day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You need-.”

“-What happened?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If anything, you shared everything with each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” he sat up. “I shall as well.”

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

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

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

“May I come in?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled. “Yes.”

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

“What is it?” You asked.

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

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

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

“Good.” You smiled up at him.

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

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

“Okay?”

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

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

“Nothing else.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And now?” You looked into his eyes.

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

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

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

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

And again, and again, and again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When his own door shut, did you finally cry.

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

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

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

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

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

“Last night-.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do. Would you like to touch me?”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

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

“No teeth.” You said.

“No teeth.” He repeated.

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

“Do you dream about me?” You rasped.

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

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

“Yes.” His breath hitched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You wiped your mouth.

 “You’re going to be the death of me.”

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

He sat up. “Where are you going?”

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

“Take one of my tunics from the dresser.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You always had to see him whenever he would touch you so intimately. There would be nights where there was only a single candle in the room either while he caressed the swell of your breasts, or the inside of your thigh as you sat on his lap.

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

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

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

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

“You know what I mean.”

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

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

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

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

“You’re horrible.”

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

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

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

He smiled more those days.

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” You sighed. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here.” You beckoned.

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

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

Geta…

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

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

“Then have me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So controlling.”

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

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

“Why?”

“I’m suffocating from the air outside!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But that’s not what it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talk to me.” You answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[the-life-of-stella]

The Tempi Train Tragedy and the Ongoing Cover-Up

"I have no oxygen."

On February 28, 2023, Greece experienced the tragic train accident in Tempi, which left 57 dead and dozens injured, causing deep sorrow and outrage in Greek society. Two trains—one passenger train carrying citizens and one freight train carrying goods—ended up traveling on the same railway track in opposite directions. After the violent collision, a massive explosion followed, raising numerous questions. Immediately after the accident, hasty actions were observed that altered the crime scene. Specifically, excavation and backfilling of the collision site were carried out before all necessary evidence had been collected.

According to experts, these actions significantly hindered the judicial investigation in uncovering the truth. In a country that lacks funds for photocopy paper in schools and where it takes years to fix a pothole in a road, on the night of the accident, 700,000 euros were found and orders were given for the immediate planning and execution of the site’s cleanup and backfilling.

The very next morning, the entire political leadership of Greece, accompanied by the President of the Republic, rushed to the accident site. Suspicion arose from the Prime Minister's statement just a few hours after the tragedy, attributing the accident to "human error." The victims' families have spoken about the presence of flammable materials on the freight train, which caused the deadly explosion. These materials were not listed in the official cargo records of the train.

Three weeks after the incident, the Prime Minister dismissed the allegations as "conspiracy theories," insisting that the explosion was caused by the train's brake oil. Key witnesses to the incident were killed in car accidents just days after the crash. Additionally, video footage of the freight train's loading process mysteriously disappeared, with no logical explanation provided. From the very first day, audio recordings of conversations between stationmasters were made public; however, it was later revealed that they had been edited, with the apparent goal of misleading public opinion and reinforcing the narrative that human error was the primary cause of the collision. Subsequent revelations have brought to light strong indications of attempts to cover up the real causes of the explosion, those truly responsible for the tragedy, and the deep-rooted corruption within Greece.

A recent report by an expert that surfaced in the media suggests that the explosion was caused by the presence of flammable substances, excluding brake oil as the cause, since it would not have been capable of producing such a massive blast. The explosion is believed to have been triggered by chemical fuel adulterants. Recorded emergency calls made by victims to 112—activated by the automatic collision mechanism—reveal that survivors of the crash were crying out that they could not breathe. The recorded distress calls confirm the presence of oxygen depletion due to the fire. The victims survived the collision but were burned alive.

According to the victims' families, political mechanisms are deliberately delaying legal proceedings, keeping case files buried in bureaucratic drawers and obstructing their fight for justice. As if all this were not enough, the son of the prosecutor handling the Tempi case has been missing for three weeks. Recent reports suggest that the prosecutor has stepped down from the case. Public outrage continues to grow, fueled by the widespread belief that a deliberate cover-up is taking place.

The families of the victims, railway workers, and society at large demand transparency. The victims' families, through their association, are calling for an independent judicial process in Greece. Today, across Greece, without political banners or affiliations, people are gathering under one slogan—the last words of those who burned alive:

"I have no oxygen."

#tempi #tempi_crime

[cuppajj]

(OLD) Beast Ancients AU FAQ

I’ve seen a lot of asks in my inbox that are identical to each other, so I decided to put em all in one post and then some. This’ll be updated the more I develop the AU and the more info we get.

As a disclaimer, I am very new to CRK (as of December 2023) and I haven’t gotten to all the game or story modes yet (notably odyssey), so things are definitely bound to change + be elaborated on more! Anyway without further ado:

General

What are the Beast Ancients’ themes?

Vanilla is Penance, Lily is Sovereignty, Dragonberry is Pride, Cacao is Solitude, and Cheese is Conquest. I tried to keep them within the realm of their original meanings

Essentially my philosophy is: Penance is the acknowledgment (truth) that sins such as deceit exist in the world and must be cleansed. Sovereignty is an extreme form of freedom where one can have all the agency they wish, but can be just as silent about their presence/power as well. Pride is a byproduct of passion or sloth, boiling down to the adamancy of the subject. Solitude is a choice made with both resolution and apathy in various degrees, and lastly Conquest promises an abundant future at the cost of untold destruction.

If the ancients are bad, are the beasts good?

No, the old Beasts are still a threat. With a total of ten beasts to worry about, the situation on Earthbread is very dire. However, there is still hope left, and hope can go a long way.

Is there a new set of ancient heroes with soul jams?

No, and there likely won’t be. The Neo Beasts and first Beasts still have their respective soul jam halves, and both want each other’s.

Where’s Gingerbrave and his party?

Likely the Crème Republic, which becomes a refuge for many cookies after the rise of the neo beasts. They’re at the front of the resistance movement, working with Clotted Cream Cookie to plan how the beasts will be taken down.

What do the Neo Beasts think of their past selves?

Generally they see themselves as improved or improving. The only one who doesn’t feel that way is Frigid Cacao, who doesn’t reflect on himself that often.

Did they all corrupt at the same time?

Still working on that part. The timeline for beast ancients is a WIP, but for now, it’s likely that while they didn’t corrupt at once, they corrupted pretty close to one another. Cheese was likely first, followed by Lily. Vanilla was among the last to fall and evidently had it the worst.

Do the Neo Beasts still have kingdoms? How is life like there?

Answered here

What are the cookies of darkness doing?

As of writing (5/31/24) we don’t have a lot of info on the cookies of darkness in beast yeast, but at the very least I can say Dark Enchantress cookie may or may not know about Midnight Lily’s plan to destroy her.

How would legendaries react?

I admittedly don’t know everything about the legendaries to say yet, but they’re all alarmed to some degree. I can flesh them out the more I learn about them

Individual Neo Beast questions under cut!

Saint Vanilla Cookie

How do his powers work?

Answered here

Does he know he’s killing cookies?

Nope, he doesn’t see it as that and it would pain him to. He sees purification as a form of transition or ascension in itself, to put it simply; he might even envy those he turns to stardust, knowing his own tainted soul will be so much harder to liberate.

Why is he constantly crying?

He’s just like that. He’s just that big of an empath.

Has his relationship with Lily changed?

Saint Vanilla still cares very much about Lily, and may even be more open about his feelings towards her; but he admits the only reason why she’s still alive is because she convinced him to leave her for last. Lily very well knows that Vanilla, in his mind, wants to purify her more than anyone else. Vanilla often pities her choice to stew in her tainted soul, but he respects her decision… at least the alternative is that they’ll someday be the only two cookies on Earthbread.

What happened to Black Raisin?

As the very first to witness his rise, she inadvertently became his very first martyr.

Where’s Custard Cookie III?

With his relatives in the Crème Republic, alongside the rest of Gingerbrave’s party. The kid has a hard time wrapping his head around what happened to Pure Vanilla, and it may be a blessing that he’s been largely focused on worrying about the well being of his uncle, Clotted Cream Cookie. As the head of the resistance, he’s been working tirelessly… is this what a king goes through too?

Shadow Milk’s opinion on Saint?

To put it simply, he starts out thinking that a confused Vanilla will be easy to manipulate, but he soon finds out that Saint Vanilla is way smarter and more aware than made out to be. He knows Shadow Milk is with him, and he wants to purge him from his soul; but that is a process that may be harder than anything else. So in the meantime, Shadow Milk can watch as he continues on his path of Penance towards ascension, fighting back the resistance he creates before it can truly harm him. Essentially, Saint Vanilla isn’t trapped with Shadow Milk, Shadow Milk is trapped with Saint Vanilla.

Dragonberry Cookie

Is the skull on her head real?

Yes! It comes from a nondescript monster.

If Pitaya is imprisoned, where is Snapdragon?

With Tarte Tatin and/or Royal Margarine. Dragon City likely got taken over by Dragonberry’s kingdom, but they noped out of there as it happened. The two of them might’ve been the first few to recognize Hollyberry’s spiral into corruption and where it was headed

How is her family doing?

Alright for the most part, but they can feel Dragonberry’s influence in every aspect of their life now. While Royal and Jungleberry are technically still the king and queen, it’s only a figurehead role as Dragonberry is the true ruler. She still cares about her family very much, but she’s controlling and good at keeping them under her thumb. Dragonberry’s granddaughter Princess Cookie is the only one who objects this new way of life, and runs away from the palace.

How would the other dragons react?

The other dragons aren’t canon to CRK so they’re not canon to the au by extension, but just for this question, they’d be different levels of alarmed or concerned save for maybe Longan. I could see Ananas wanting a word with Dragonberry in particular esp since they’re both prideful cookies

Frigid Cacao Cookie

Does he ever go outside?

Very rarely, but it’s usually to observe the licorice sea or meet with the few denizens he has left.

Where is Dark Choco?

Still working on this part (waiting for Apathy pt 2 to come out so I have a better idea), but he’s likely alone by himself. He heard wind of his father’s corruption though and took it less well than he thought he would. Perhaps he’ll run into someone who feels the same?

Is his permafrost truly permanent or can the frozen citizens be thawed?

Technically yes, the permafrost can be thawed, but it’s a meticulous process since Cacao’s ice isn’t normal ice. It’s a cure that Crunchy Chip is looking for to save Caramel Arrow.

How does the licorice sea work for him and how did he come to tame it?

I can’t say how yet outside of the fact that it was a definitely cool and heroic thing for Dark Cacao to do, on the scale of taming the Black and White dragons. The sea, arguably a sentient monster in itself, and all of the creatures within it came to follow Cacao and Cacao only. Now it almost acts like an extension of himself: the beast can make the sea do whatever he wants, like acting as his shield, arms, or barrier, and the licorice horrors will vehemently defend him. There are tons of monsters roaming his frozen kingdom now.

Mystic Flour’s opinion on Cacao?

Working on it, but to some degree she knows Cacao is much stronger than he looks. She might see his apparent apathy for his frozen kingdom with fondness though.

Celestial Cheese Cookie

Is the Golden City still running or did she leave it to die?

It may still be running but in a scaled-down beta form. Cheese learned to accept the fact that what she’d built was entirely fake, but she didn’t move on from regaining what was lost. Her virtual Golden City serves as a blueprint for the kingdom she wants on Earthbread, and then some; with nothing in the barren desert to grow her kingdom, her brightened eyes turn elsewhere towards civilizations that could be brought into the fold. Such is the beginning of the Beast of Conquest’s terror.

She does sometimes visit her golden city, only sometimes. It doesn’t look the same; it’s not a paradise for her to escape to, but it is a promise of what she will have someday. This time, it will be no mirage, and there will be no one to threaten its destruction ever again.

Midnight Lily Cookie

What is her opinion on dark enchantress cookie?

DE is the source of insecurity for Lily, who regards herself as the weakest among all the beasts. Because she’s half of a complete whole, who was already half of another whole, she is passionate about reuniting her souls. While she is focused on expanding the influence of the faerie kingdom, her true goal is to track down Dark Enchantress Cookie and destroy her; but she knows she will need more help than just herself, and has considered asking for help from other vengeful allies.

Does she still guard the silver tree?

Yes, she still fiercely honors Elder Faerie’s wishes.

Have her relationships with the other neo beasts changed?

Ish, most notably her and Celestial Cheese are a little more on speaking terms; but they’re connecting through their potential partnership as Lily hopes she can help her take down Dark Enchantress. In return, she might help her expand her kingdom and take down Burning Spice.

If more FAQs come up, I will make a part two. Thank you for your interest!

[rgartz]

I wanna do angst but I'm too lazy to draw... So here's the bad ending in written form with a bit of drawings.

P. S I am not good at writing, soooo sorry if some sentence doesn't make sense or it has wrong grammer

Bad ending ((nah egg the poll, I want angst))

Panic filled corrupted pure vanilla as he realized his own mistake. He grabbed him,shook him, he tried to reverse the spell..but he couldn't...nothing was working... Until he remembered, he saw mystic flour was able to break his spell (I feel like he can see everything in cookies eyes that he puppet-tified).

That gave him hope, a small bit of hope... He had no choice...

He carried the puppetified shadow milk back to his friends... Unease fills him, as he isn't sure if his friends would help him or not... But he needs to save his dearest friend from the curse he gave.

-

At the créme republic...where he knows where his friends are, he hesitated... "Will they hate me? Will they attack me? Will they still think of me as a friend..? " He asked himself.... He looked back at shadow milk... Seeing his blank face, guilt swallows him.

Corrupted Pure Vanilla knocks at the door of the créme republic... He waits for an answer before knocking again. He hesitantly pushed the doors open.. letting out a weak cry for help... "Please... Help him..." All the ancients, redeemed beast stared in shock.

Corrupted Pure Vanilla cried for help louder this time, yelling from the top of his lungs "please help him! save him! Fix him!" He sobbed as well...

The others snapped from their shocked state and quickly helped the two. Golden cheese taking shadow milk out of corrupted pure vanilla's arms. And Hollyberry, dark cacao and white lily attempted to comfort cpv... Golden cheese knowing what to immediately do, she brings her to mystic flour to help him.

Mystic flour, holds shadow milk's face gently.. staring at his blank eyes.. she leaned on him attempting to bring him back.. but nothing happened...

Mystic flour still tried her all.. the spell wouldn't budge... She stared in despair.. unable to fix shadow milk...

Cpv on the distance.. watched.. as grief, guilt, pain, regret fills him whole... His knees collapsed... He froze in his own sorrows, regrets... Staring at puppetified shadow milk... His dearest friend... His love one... Harmed by him... Unable to reverse it..

The other ancients didn't know what to do... They just continued to comfort him... Reassuring him that they'll find a way to fix him...

-

At his castle.. where he stays... Cpv kept quiet.. silent.. not responding to anyone... Still frozen from before.. the ancients visits him from time to time...to Care for both shadow milk and him whenever they visit...

As the night comes... Cpv couldn't sleep.. he continued to stare at nothingness... Guilt and regret still consumed him from the inside out...

He stood up and walked towards where shadow milk is.. when he finally find him.. he stared at him for a bit... Admiring his beauty... Remembering his smile... Oh how that thought made him cry again...

He approached shadow milk.. staring into his eyes. Blank eyes.. Kissed his forehead.. and stepped back away... And he gave him a smile...

He......

((the first three where 3 am sketch... Man my artstyle change when I'm sleep deprived..))

Shackled branch ua by @fishymom-art

Without the wings, you cannot fly. Poor fallen angel.....

[littleacebee]

Let’s talk about comedy podcasts!

Some of the descriptions/part of them were taken from shows themselves or their descriptions. Please, ignore all the spelling mistakes.

IDs in alt texts and under the cut (I guess they might be especially needed here)

[ID: Front cover of a zine. There is big text: „Comedy podcasts appreciation-recommendation zine” and red heart below.

Page 1: Text: „Comedy podcasts don’t get enough love and attention. There are so many of them out there that are so so amazing. As a big comedy enjoyer I would like to show some appreciation them and at the same time share few recommendations with you!”

Page 2: At the top of the page there is text: „Period piece comedy” on a scroll. Below there four podcasts’ cover arts and descriptions. First podcast is Fawx & stallion and the text says: „Team from Baker Street. The other one.”. Second podcast is Victoriocity and the text says: „Inspector Fleet and Clara Entwhistle try to solve a murder in unending city.”. Third podcast is The Kingmaker Histories and the text says: “Colette Geise experience the worst migraine of her life.”. Fourth podcast is Cry Havoc! Ask Questions Later and the text says: “Nobody said that running Roman Republic would be easy”.

Page 3. There is title at the top of the page: “Workplace comedy”. There are three podcasts’ cover arts and descriptions. First belongs to Mission Rejected and the text says: “The story of world’s most secret agents - the backups.”. Second belongs to Super Suits and the text says: “How is it to be a lawyer in a world filled with of superpowers?”. Third one belongs to G.O.B.L.I.N.S and the text says: “Elizabeth’s only chance to survive is work with messy team of Goblins and elvish prince.”

Page 4: There is title at the top of the page: “There is a workplace and there is comedy”. Below there are three podcasts’ cover arts and descriptions. First belong to The Amelia Project and the text says: “Welcome to the best death-faking agency!”. Second belongs to Wooden Overcoats and the text says: “Rudyard Fun runs a funeral home. It used to be the only one. It isn’t anymore.” Third belong to Forgive me! and the text says: “Father Ben takes confessions of St. Patrick’s parishioners and deals with their interesting sins.”

Page 5: There is a title at the top of the page: “Sci-fi comedy”. Below there are three podcasts’ cover arts and descriptions. First one belongs to Stellar Firma and the text says: “listen how most luxurious planets are designed! If only designers knew what they were doing…”. Second belongs to Starship Q Star and the text says: “”First all woman and non-binary crew” becomes the last six humans in the universe.”. Third belongs to Oz9 and the text says: “Join the useless crew of Oz9as they limp around in space looking for a new home.”

Page 6: There is title at the top of the page: “Fantasy comedy”. There are three podcasts’ cover arts and descriptions. First belongs to Dark Ages and the text says: “Rivercliffe Museum staff has to survive Dark Lord, low attendance and each other.”. Second belongs to Wizard seeking wizard and the text says: “Matchmaking show for wizards! Find a wizard you need!”. Third belongs to Absolutely No Adventures and the text says: “Chosen one of every prophecy opens a bakery with one rule: absolutely no adventures”.

Page 7: Text: “All these short descriptions do not do justice to how amazing and funny all these podcasts are. Please go give them a chance, they are definitely worthy!”. At the bottom of the page there is text: “#fiction podcast zine event”.

[iamnmbr3]

it pisses me off sooo much when i see some stupid westerners supporting-and giving opinion about- islamic republic regime. Like. I hope you live here just FOR A MONTH and FEEL IT!!!! And even not in war. Before or after war. Man or woman. And then i'll see you.

or they say: i hope iran nukes israel. Are you illiterate??? Out of mind??? You know what kind of bullshit you're wishing for???are you a human???what about normal people in israel, palestine and even countries around?

Or they(esp americans) be like: my first war kinda nervous👉👈 i didn't ask for war etc

Like who hurt YOU? You're not even in this!!!

you're just soo self-obsessed and self centered.

Crying for days for fear of life and then trying NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT WHILE BEING IN IT.And does all of this seem funny to you?

all of this plus they cut the whole international internet off-almost all atleast like for 99%-for 3 days(this is for me atleast,for some more some less, they did it for a whole year during protests 3 years ago)-and they called it necessary for security. Imagine not being able to tell your friends in another country that you're alive, not having news-since tv doesn't tell the truth..then regime fans threatening people who spread news and calling them "traitor to their country"

hope this helps.

ALL of this. It's despicable. And I'm so sorry to all the people in Iran and Israel as well as others in the region affected by this or with family in the region who are actually affected by this who have to see these horrible and insensitive takes from bigoted, privileged, out of touch westerners treating this like a game and mindlessly repeating the propaganda of terrorist organizations and Russian and Iranian dictators. They call themselves "activists" and yet promote genocide and violence and take the side of the oppressor and speak over the actual people they should be uplifting.

The violence of the Iranian regime against its people can never be justified or excused. Many Iranian people have risked their lives to speak about the regime and these "leftists" just dismiss it so they can stan oppressive dictators and repost obvious online propaganda from bots. Shameful.

Also I genuinely don't get people in America acting like it's World War 3???! Like. WTF. This is a regional conflict not a global one. Also. The United States has the most powerful military in the world AND nukes and many times the population of Iran. And Iran clearly doesn't have nukes. Or the population or military size of the US. The US could definitely easily defeat the Iranian government if it wanted to. Americans are not in danger. People in the US acting like they are at risk or victims of this conflict are such pathetic clowns. It's like they want to be involved so desperately. Instead of centering the actual victims and trying to promote peace.

And of course, calling for the genocide of any people is vile. Hoping that any country gets nuked is vile. Also wild that the same people who would claim to be against people who are bigoted against Arab or Muslim people are often Americans (a country that is about 1% Arab and about 1% Muslim) calling for the destruction of Israel (about 21% Arab and 18% Muslim) and prioritizing continued violence over the safety of Palestinian, Iranian and Israeli people. (Not to mention that they also often repeat literal Nazi talking points about Jews and Israel.) They don't actually care about anyone. They are their bigoted MAGA grandparents with a blue coat of paint. They stand for nothing but hate. They support the governments of Iran and Russia and terrorist orgs like Hamas and repeat their propaganda. They are Fascists.

But there are many people who do genuinely want peace and wish the best for the people of Iran, Gaza, the West Bank and Israel and hope for freedom and dignity for all. Sending love to everyone actually impacted by this conflict. Hope you and your loved ones all stay safe.

[izzabela]

Hello!! Soo the most interesting part of my day today is that I got my pants caught on something which ripped my pants so it gave me an idea of what would each of the Lin Kuei brothers would do if their girlfriend/wife approached the embarrassment that their pants were ripped? 😂😂

Apple Bottom Jeans - Lin Kuei x fem!reader (headcanons)

in which you rip your pants in front of each of the boys

a/n: HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN

ship[s]: bi han, tomas & kuai liang x fem!reader

warning(s): ripped pants, post-story kanon

Bi Han

- i genuinely believe he would be the one laughing out loud. why? have you seen him?

- if it takes a lot for him to give praises, i believe it takes a lot more for him to laugh- this seals the deal

- "Bi Han! Help!" you'd cry out, and he'd come running to find your knees touching each other as they face inwards. His eyes would find your hands covering the huge rip on your bum, and your pretty, cotton, everyday panties peeking through

- he'd then trail to the bits of thread that come off your pants, then to the nail that holds the rest of the fabric that came off your butt

- i think he'd have a comic book moment. the moment where the character looks at the other character, back to the problem, then back to the character

- Bi Han would have the deepest, yet whole-hearted laugh of all his brothers. you want to be mad at him, really, you do. how can you with the sound of his timbre voice reverberating in your body with joy? you'd roll your eyes for sure, chuckling with him too

- i think it would make you sad, though. not the situation you were in, but the fact Bi Han doesn't laugh often. not when his only family has left him, and you're the only thing he has left from that bygone time

- after the laugh, though, he'd definitely scold you. something along the lines of "i told you that you wore those bottoms out", or "you missed an opportunity to replace them"

- if you, reader, don't care about the pants, he'd listen to you and toss them out in a heartbeat. if you did like those pants, he'd do his best to get a servant to fix them

- worst case scenario is that he'd have to find the exact brand of pants you wore

- still, he'd go great lengths to cover you up so you'd have some dignity left. he'd take off that outer layer of his uniform and drape it over you, and it'd do the job well because he's two heads taller than you

- if you try to remind him that he laughed, he'd literally deny it til his death

- still, even as he denies it all, you know he's thinking about it when he looks away from you and his left eyebrow (yes, you studied his facial expressions) is quirked up roughly ten degrees

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tomas

- he'd be the most flustered out of the three

- raised in cultures that regard women to a high standard (slavic traditions of the Czech Republic and the Lin Kuei), he'd put you first for sure. not without feeling embarrassed, if not more, for you

- "Tomas!" you screech from your shared room of Harumi's compound. "Tomas, you get here this instant!"

- he'd show up from a fissure of smoke, face scrunched up in worry as he assesses the situation. you're panicked, and he needs to remain calm or else you'll panic more

- he'd actually find the piece of fabric that ripped off. it'd probably be hooked on a splintered piece of wood from the side-wall of the tatami door. taking it, he'd foolishly look around your bum and leg area to find the rip

- "Hey!" you'd giggle-screech. "Don't be a perv!"

- i think Tomas would be very sad and borderline offended you'd think of him like that. he'd give you a look, that's for sure, and he'd continue to quietly assess your circumstance

- only when he finds the little frills of your lacy undies will he turn the deepest shade of pink possible on the human body. he'd flail around like a fish out of water, stuttering and finding something to cover you

- he'd drape you in a blanket, the one on your bed. then he'd pick you up and toss you right back into the pillowy mattress. he'd rush out and find one of Harumi's handmaidens (or Harumi herself) and discreetly tell her about the situation

- your replacement clothes for the meanwhile would be a kimono, similar to Harumi's. as you'd get changed, Tomas doesn't look at you one bit

- "I am ashamed to have looked..." Tomas pouts from behind the dressing screen. "I apologize, feather..."

- even as he tries to get you new pants, he can't help but think about the situation he was in. he would associate those specific pants to that situation- always

- and unlike Bi Han, you'd hold this shit over his head until the day he dies

- you'd egg him like "remember when my pants ripped and you were hiding from me?" or "remember when you threw me into bed because of my pants?"

- yeah, he would be the one more embarrassed than you. he wouldn't be living it down, either, until the day he died

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kuai Liang

- Kuai might be the most normal in terms of reaction, unfortunately. not without a good chuckle, though

- "Kuai Liang! A little help here, please!" you'd call for him from the living room of Harumi's compound. he'd rush to you almost instantly, definitely wondering why you remain sitting there when there was nothing or no one to be hosted

- "You are just... sitting..." Kuai Liang obviously notes. So much for a seasoned warrior, then again you were really just sitting

- it isn't until he walks behind you a bit, realizing that there is a reason why you're not getting up

- he'd see your hands failing to cover a hole that was right over the middle of your pants

- then, he'd see the bit of fabric that's being held by a splinter in the wooden floor of the room. he'd catch a glimpse of your panties, the color not all too difficult to miss

- "Do you think we can salvage this?" you'd ask him. Kuai Liang would give it to you straight

- "I do not believe I can, dove..." Kuai Liang says softly, kissing your forehead as an additional apology

- this is probably the most awkward situation in your life. since the pants were stuck to the ground, and you didn't want to rip it anymore, Kuai Liang basically carries you out of your pants

- with the help of a handmaid that held your pants legs down, Kuai Liang carries you by your armpits as he gently guides you to shimmy, shake, and maneuver out of your pants

- he'd praise you, a lot. things like "good job" and "thank you for listening to me" or "you did a great job listening", it'd make you very happy despite the loss of a good piece of clothing

- Kuai Liang would also order you new pants. you didn't even get to mention it before Kuai Liang had sent another handmaiden out to a nearby village to find similar, if not, the exact same pants as the ones you ripped

- and the gentleman he is, he would not speak of this day ever again. however, every time he sees you in those pants, he will chuckle to himself

- so in reality, he was speaking about it, just nonverbally

=====================

so easy that i finished this in thirty minutes

also update! i got a new job and actually love it there. everyone is so kind and helps me out

also, i love the headcanon ideas you guys are giving me, keep it up! you might see more of those get published first before i do actual fics

see y'all in the next fic!

[professional-yearner]

TW: mentions of pregnancy, gentle gaslighting, and injuries

A darling that acts as something of a Bermuda triangle for clones/clone pilots.

You can't even remember when the first republic starship came crashing into your late mother's rose bushes, you could only attest to how it had only escalated since.

Of course you had taken him in, it was the right thing to do! Maybe it was when you had befriended him that you took it too far; he had begun following you closer than was necessary around the house, despite your protests that he needed to be resting his leg (which had broken pretty badly in the wreck), taken it upon himself to stop you from doing any strenuous tasks yourself, and was overall much too spritely for someone who was forced to be completely reliant on a stranger in the middle of nowhere due to a major injury.

Not that you, yourself hadn't also gotten attached. When the rescue team of his brothers finally came for him, you had to stop yourself from shutting yourself in your room and sobbing under your quilts. Even so, you had invited them to stay for the night, since the weather wasn't optimal for retreating back into the atmosphere at the time, before they shipped back out in the morning.

They accepted almost eagerly, and you were happy to find that they were just as gentlemanly as their brother; helping you prepare dinner, pulling out your chair for you, even assisting with the dishes!

As nice as this all was, you had had worried eyes on your first friend, who had seemed to be tense and strangely irritable since the team had arrived, all night, worried about how returning to war would even affect him now.

You supposed this distraction could be a part of what had led you to absent-mindedly spouting off your whole story to the group when they asked without realizing it while around the small bonfire they had set up; how the death of your parents, who never really gave you a second glance, had left the property to you, how you never really saw anyone but traders who seemed all to eager to take advantage of that fact, and how you had enjoyed having someone around to talk with and share each other's company. By the time you were finished, you were startled to look up and find them looking at you like a porg with an injured wing, concern etcched into their handsome features.

Even as you had snapped back to your senses and tried to play it off, backtracking and letting them know that you understood that they had a duty they needed to fulfill, saying that you would be fine when they left, you could sense that the air had shifted. While it was once a bit awkward but positive, it had shifted to something darker, something that made your skin crawl as you felt their gazes turn more thoughtful, as if considering something.

It was at that point you had excused yourself for the night, reminding them that if they needed anything to just give you a call, and hurried back into your cottage. As you tugged the covers over your now violently crying form, you had cursed yourself for your loose tongue, for making things uncomfortable when they were just trying to do their job, for being such a child about the whole situation.

By the time morning came, your eyes itched and your throat was a bit sore from whimpering and sobbing into your pillow. (You really hoped they hadn't somehow heard that)

You, admittedly, moped out of bed, not really putting on anything over your nightgown. Why cover yourself when your guests had most likely shipped out by now?

Groggy, you had shuffled into the living room, eyes half closed when you heard low conversation, your eyes snapping open to reveal the lot of them.

Not only were they still here, they were cooking for you.

You didn't know how you hadn't smelled it before, but just from the aroma, you knew it would be at least decent.

After you had near sprinted back to your room to find a house coat to cover yourself with, you sat and ate with them. Listening to them talk about their woes with the GAR and feeling stomach-droppingly sorry until they told you, quite matter-of-factly, that they were staying here.

You nearly spit your food, eyes near bugging out of your skull at the proclamation. After a coughing fit and them rubbing your back for an uncomfortable amount of time, they explained how you filled them with a sense of purpose and renewed conviction, new softness, and didn't you say you needed more help around the land? They were really just taking you up on your offer! (You hadn't remembered offering that, but you took their word for it)

You had been hesitant but, shamefully, you hadn't needed much convincing. Not only were these handsome men offering to help you, they were offering companionship, something you felt so desperate for it made you sick. Even if they weren't interested in you in that way, you wouldn't mind finally having friends or even just getting to keep the one you had made already.

You had agreed, much to their elation, a few even coming in to pick you up into a bit of a crushing hug, but you would come to be used to such things.

The next few years went by in a blur, a happy blur, but fast nonetheless.

It would seem that your little plot on the planet had become a hotspot for a number of crashing republic aircraft and, much to the other's chagrin, you had needed to expand the house into something that could fit the newcomers as they recovered. All eventually opting to stay after getting to know you for even a few days.

(Little do you know, they plan to expand on the lodge even more, considering how more than a few of them plan to have a few adorable little you's running around in the near future.)

[yayayxs]

Only one.

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

Summary: After winning Street Woman Fighter nobody expected this…

Warnings: suggestive if you squint, not proofread!!!!

Bada met you in one of her classes.

At first it was a silly hobby you decided to start. You decided to finally get out of your apartment and one day you were scrolling through Twitter when you came across a dance company account. They weee hosting classes, so you mindlessly signed yourself up to it. Not thinking you were gonna like it.

The day of your class, you remembered walking in and a tall woman catching your attention. Immediately you catched her attention to. You hated anyone who told you that love at first sight was real, but for some reason this woman was making you reevaluate your whole perception of love.

So you started from going every Monday to going every Monday and Tuesday, to every Monday , Tuesday and Wednesday, to every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, and eventually you would be there the whole week. Even if Bada wasn’t teaching that day, you still hoped to at least see her in the building.

And so did she.

As she constantly called in to come in to do a demonstration hoping you would be there.

Eventually she noticed you two were both desperate to see eachother, which finally made her come up to you.

After a year of knowing eachother you two finally started dating, but kept it on the low knowing that you two both liked to have privacy.

Which brought you here.

“The winner of Street Woman Figheter is…”

As the speaker trailed off Bada along with the other members of Bebe grabbed their hands in union, closing their eyes shut. This is what they’ve been waiting for. This is what she’s been waiting for you to see, all her hard work actually pay off. Even though she already knew how proud you were of her everyday. How you had to tolerate her always trying her best to make time for you, and no matter what the circumstances were, there you were waiting.

It’s one of the main reasons she fell in love with you in the first place. Obviously besides the fact of how gorgeous you were when you first started dancing in her classes. She couldn’t keep her eyes off you.

She smiled at the cheesy thought and quickly hit reality once again.

Then silence for a few seconds. She opened her eyes quickly searching for you in the crowd, there you were with her jersey. Bada immediately felt comforted by the presence of you. Your eyes both met, yours were watery as you looked into hers from the stage as you put a thumbs up. She only chuckled lightly at your attempt at reassuring her all the time.

She was so distracted she didn’t even noticed that they had called Bebe as the winner, not until the others members started to gather around and hug each other, they were a crying mess.

Bada comforted her team as she looked for your eyes again, there you were cheering and crying as you gave a look at her in admiration. She looked at you forming a heart with her arms and crying again as she mouthed a “I love you”.

The group went to hug Jam Republic next, a lot of “Congratulations” said and tears.

After they finally went back to their places the MC handed the mic to Bada. “Congratulations on your win, do you have any words to say to the audience”

Bada nodded as she took the microphone and put it up to her lips. She looked at the other members before starting.

“I actually wrote my speech” she said her voice slightly cracking and tears falling from her eyes. You and everyone else watched carefully as she took out the note from her pocket.

Oh Bada, always prepared for everything, you thought.

“First, I just wanted to thank everyone who supported us, my parents who believed in all of us and the other 8 amazing teams” she said giving time for the others to clap. As the claps down she looked at what was next on her paper, she smiled reading what she had wrote down.

You looked to her with a confused expression wondering what she was smiling about.

“Most importantly though, someone who I haven’t spoken about at all for the sake of privacy, and I know that she’s gonna be really mad at me for saying this on TV”

You’re eyes furrowed at her words as the audience laughed, slowly putting the puzzle pieces together about what she was about to do.

“There’s no way she’s really-“

“I would like to thank the most important person in my life right now, my girlfriend Y/n.”

For the third time that night your eyes met once again, you were shocked to say the least.

You two had promised to keep your relationship private for so long and you did not expect that and neither the crowd as they all let out gasps.

“Girlfriend? She has a girlfriend? She likes girls?” The lady behind you said, you had to hold back a slap, because yes duh she said girlfriend and of course she liked girls, was the show not enough?.

Your gaze went back at Bada and to her surprise you looked anything but mad. You actually smiled at her and mouthed an “I love you babe” and then unexpectedly a light was shined on you from the ceiling. You jumped lightly covering your mouth with both your hands.

“I can’t believe this is happening right now” You muttered. Everyone’s attention was suddenly on you.

Meanwhile on stage the rest of Badas team were also new to the news as their eyes found you and suddenly it all made sense.

The reason why Bada would have to step out a few minutes and return with light lipstick stains on her neck or the reason she didn’t go out with the team as she often would, which didn’t bother them but confused them sometimes.

“Everything makes sense now” lusher whispered to the rest of the team.

“Right! No wonder she’s been all happy and bubbly these past few months I was starting to think she was going to quit” tatter answered, the rest of the team laughed, as Bada looked back to see what her team was laughing about but she quickly continued her speech.

“My girlfriend has been my main motivation throughout this amazing experience, she’s been there for me when I was struggling on this show and I don’t know what I would do without her, and I can’t believe I let her take this long for her to let me show her off, but tonight I just want everybody to know I wouldn’t even be here in the first place if it wasn’t for her. I love you Y/N”

The crowd was filled with ‘awws’ as you were left overwhelmed and crying, but yelling out a “I love you!” to Bada.

++++

After the show you met Bada and the team off stage. Immediately you ran to her arms.

You hugged her as she hugged you back lifting your shorter body off the ground.

“They look so cute together!”

“I can’t believe she never told us about her she’s beautiful!”

Whispered Bebe

Bada but you down, the both of you just admiring eachothers faces.

“You’re not mad that I finally publicized our relationship?” Bada asked, a worried cute expression on her face.

You giggled moving a strand of hair to the back of her ear.

“Why would I ever? I’m dating the best woman in the world. Besides I was getting tired of keeping it a secret”

You said annoyingly, she chucked kissing your cheek.

“I’m so mad we’ve gone this long without anyone knowing.”

“Maybe you can make it up to me tonight”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

[stargirl-writes]

promises

pairing : f! reader x rots! anakin skywalker

word count : 1k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

ever since anakin had killed dooku, your anxiety has never settled. for you were watching him slowly lose himself in the war. and you lie late at night lost in the idea that maybe, being with you didn't make any difference at all. so, you watched him sleep, at peace, stealing what little time you could have with him.

tags : angst, comfort, love, flangst (?)

warnings : pretty much none, just angsty stuff to cry to hehe

notes : hello beautiful people! i finished the film past lives and there's this one line that just shattered me 😭 so i just wanna share this little imagine before i go to sleep :) hope ya like it 🪽🩷

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated ! (and fuels me hehe)

Anakin Skywalker is your secret.

Your beautiful little secret.

Here wrapped in these sheets, where everything softens. Hushed. Kissed by the gentle rays of the moonlight.

You have been awake for some time now. But you didn't dare move. Anakin was still deep in his dreams exhausted from the day before. Despite his slumber, his arms wrap around you protectively.

You placed your head on his chest, following his breathing and listening to the soft thuds of his heart.

Your gaze lands on his peaceful expression.

How can someone look so beautifu?

You thought, he looked like the people in the paintings. Like how an artist would imagine a being with the perfect proportions. And he'd move as if each stroke is intended with grace.

The force made him. You'd sometimes catch yourself lost in his eyes, staring, studying the way it'd crease at the ends when he smiles. Is he even human? You'd think to yourself. He is the galaxy made flesh. That has to account for his prettiness, you think.

You take a deep breath; the scales of the ongoing war are further tipped to the Republic's advantage after Anakin had killed Dooku.

It was so close. Even the air itself has shifted. You can feel it, the end. You can almost visualize it.

Maybe then, things will change...

Selfishly, you feel your heart ache by the little amount of time you could share with Anakin. You can't help it, you have always belonged to him, and for that, you have suffered.

He is the Jedi Order's first. Before you can call him yours. You're not even sure if he is his own's anymore. Because you've watched how this war takes so much of him.

Be smarter, Be more cunning, Be more ruthless. Offer yourself again and again and again.

There's so little of him that remains.

You blinked, sighing once more. You reminded yourself that you are here, tangled in his embrace. It was enough to know that here he lies, with you.

Anakin shifts and you hold your breath. You begged the Gods to not wake him, not yet, let me have him, just for now.

Anakin mutters something. Huttese, the language he grew up on. Your eyebrows furrowed, you never really got to understanding the language even after studying it.

His heart paces under your touch. You kept your gaze on his face, deciding whether you should wake him up or have him rest.

He has been having so many nightmares lately...

His eyes abruptly open and you lent your weight on your elbow to better survey him.

"It's alright, Ani, it was just a dream" You spoke softly, careful not to startle him.

Anakin's wide-eye terror softens at the sight of you, his chest heaves trying to catch his breath.

"It's alright" You coo once more, placing a kiss on his forehead.

He presses his eyes close, and his eyes are intent in yours as he follows your breathing.

You can't help but feel a sting in your heart. He is reaching his limit, and it worries you that whenever he's away, he is close to blurring the lines and crossing it.

Anakin presses his face to your clavicle, and your hands find a way to tangle in his hair. Noticing his silence, you spoke soothingly "What's on your mind, Ani?"

Anakin's breath felt warm against your neck. You used to be able to read Anakin's thoughts. Like he'd write it down in words on pages of a novel for you to be able to understand him. But now, he's been more distant, more incoherent, and you feel as though you have to decipher every little thing that he allows you to see.

"mmm—just tired" Anakin's voice was gravelly and of resignation.

Stop turning me away. You wanted to say. But you already know that the more you try to push him, the further he'll hide away.

You take a deep breath, wishing you could take away some of the weight off his shoulders. "You know you speak in Huttese when you're asleep"

"I do?" Anakin tilts his chin, his eyes are still half-asleep.

"Yeah, I could never understand it though" You managed a wan smile.

"That's probably good for you, Huttese is a very coarse language" He claims.

"Still—" You held back your tongue, deciding it would only drive him away if you asked about his dream.

"I fear that you dream in a language I can't understand"

The silence hung. Anakin must be asleep.

Your gaze moved faraway— deep in contemplation. Wondering if you being in his life made any difference at all.

"You know, I only ever feel like myself when I'm with you, right?" Anakin speaks, voice barely above a whisper.

Your cheeks flushed scarlet, realizing your force signature may have revealed your anxieties.

"I know"

Anakin shifts his head, eyes latched on to you like he was memorizing every detail of your face.

"Ani" you began, "If there's a life after it all, will you come with me?"

Anakin's eyebrows flashed at the suddenness of your question.

"What do you mean?" He places his hand on the small of your back, tracing small circles.

"Well, I'm only wondering, will you come with me, even then?"

Anakin's expression softens, recognizing your fears. You were losing him, slowly, bit by bit. And if you're bound to him in this life, why not in the other?

When you can finally feel like you're not constantly the only one holding on.

He doesn't answer for a while, you feel the need to ramble, to withdraw.

It was silly of you to ask, he is free to choose whatever life he wants to live after it all, besides, if he decides to want to rest, you won't take that away from him, if he ever wants to—

"I'll go wherever you go" he declares, halting the thoughts plaguing your mind.

His eyes drift away from yours "I can't... I know what my duty requires of me and I'm sorry if I haven't been here for you."

"But, I'll love you in a time that isn't stolen" he promises, tucking your hair away from your face.

You felt tears glistening in your eyes. You smiled, leaning in to tenderly kiss Anakin.

The hope of it all would be enough to keep you going.

Just a little while longer.

© to @cafekitsune for the borders as always !

[yoitsjay]

Blades and Bandages

Pairings: Kix x Gn! Reader

Summary: your a bounty hunter working with the 501st, and Kix has a mega crush on you.

Warnings: fluffiness

Word count: 1,263

Bounty Hunters actually working for the republic instead of against them was a rare sight to behold. The republic was never really in the habit of hiring outside help, until you came along. You just so happened to be one of the republic senator’s children, and a very skilled fighter at that, working remotely on Coruscant or on your home planet, helping your mother and father the best you could.

That involved you working with the republic, the senate and the jedi. Which in all honestly you couldn’t much complain about. Your father, who stayed on world while your mother worked in the senate, had begged you to join forces with the jedi, and your mother begged the senate to accept a bounty hunter’s help.

You could never say no to your father, so that lead you to the present, where you were all tacked up with weapons for any situation, standing in front og the famed General Skywalker and his clone captain Rex, and behind them stood the rest of the torrent company and a few extra clones who were observing you, analyzing if you were a threat.

Though the way you and Anakin joked and bickered back and forth made it sound like you were old friends.

Probably because you were.

When Anakin became Obi-wan’s padawan, before the clone wars began, Obi-wan would take Anakin off world on peace missions to republic allied planets, which included yours. You were a bit older than Anakin, being around 17-18 at that time, so younger than Obi-wan still, annoyingly… That didn’t stop you and obi-wan from roughhousing though, or friendly sparring as your father called it, and encouraged.

Either way, you had known Anakin and Obi-wan for a long time, you would have enlisted in the republic army but the only jobs available were medic positions, janitors and mechanics, which is nothing you were experienced with.\

Bloodshed was your favorite sport, so you became a bounty hunter, though you never took jobs from the separatists, too risky, and the pay was shit. So you did odd jobs for some random people on different cities and planets like Corellia or Coruscant.

And then of course, your father made you the head of the royal guard on your home planet, so you stopped bounty work for a little while as you built up your regime and trained young men and women to protect their home. Though as much as they fought hard, it couldn’t help much when separatist rained down bombs and terror on your people.

So the cry for help was sent, and accepted, and then came the begging of allowing you to help, which was begrudgingly accepted but only because your planet’s flora and fauna was lethal, and you were an expert on how to navigate it.

And thank the maker they sent Anakin, because he actually listened to you, unlike most Jedi.

So with Anakin’s help and manpower, and your navigation skills amongst others, you beat back the separatists and saved your home planet from more damage than what was already done. Then the republic decided to start hiring you to help on small missions at first, with other nat born operatives, and then you got the okay from head office (supreme chancellor) to work alongside the 501st. And you had been happily doing so for about a few months now.

And Kix was infatuated with you, and all his brothers knew it too, with the way they caught Kix’s eyes wandering over your form, or staring at your behind for a little too long.

“You're so in love” Fives had shouted once, after a tough recovery mission, where you had gotten injured, and yet despite that continued to help clones evacuate or get to the medical wing to get Kix’s treatment before settling down and getting your own. It was the day Kix really did fall in love with your courage and bravery, on top of your stubbornness.

And the thing was, Kix couldn’t even deny Fives’ words. Because his brother was right. Kix was in love with you, and he had no idea how he was going to tell you, if ever.

Currently, Kix was organizing the medical room for the upteenth time that morning, you and a few other clones were outside, joking around, and every time he heard your laughter his pulse quickened, and he misplaced something and he had to start his organizing routine all over again.

“Hey Kix” Your voice suddenly rang out into the room, and the clone’s shoulders visibly tensed. “You alright?” You then asked, watching as he fumbled with opening a package of bandages, which continued to slip from his grasp and fall onto the floor, which he’d quickly pick up and try all over again to open the damn package.

“Yes im- im fine-” Kix grumbled, about to drop the package again, only for you to reach out and grab both of his hands within your own. God your hands were warm, even through your gloves he could feel the heat radiating from you.

And you pretended not to notice the little shiver that ran down his back, and you smirked.

“Kix…” You spoke up softly, watching in amusement as he stared blankly at your hands, then slowly looked up to your face. You were smirking.

And dread filled his chest.

Maker- you knew all about his feelings, and you were about to make fun of him, he knew it, he should have just told fives to shut up, or better yet, maybe he shouldn't have tried to be such a lovesick blubbering idiot-

God your lips were soft…

Wait what?

Kix let out a soft gasp and his eyes widened as he realized you had leaned in and closed the gap between you and him, and had pressed your lips to his. He heard the whispers of his brother’s outside, who were obviously eavesdropping, but all he could focus on was how gentle you were being.

Then he got his shit together (finally), and just as you went to pull away and apologize, his hand cupped the back of your neck and he brought you in again, and his lip’s were back on yours. This time he took control of the kiss, and he deepened it, nipping at your bottom lip and taking advantage of when they parted so he could slide his tongue into your mouth.

When you and Kix finally pulled away from each other you were both breathless, and the look you were giving him- god he wanted to see it every day.

“I love you too.” You whispered, a slight giggle lacing your words as you broke the silence that had grown between you two. Kix’s face reddened, and he looked over to the door where Fives had given him a thumbs up, Kix rolled his eyes, and looked back at you.

“You mean that?” Kix asked softly, watching as you nodded your head. He sighed in relief.

“Thank the maker, I was going stir crazy not knowing if i would ever be able to touch you.” He breathed out, basking in your rumbly laugh that followed his words.

“Yeah, well I gave up waiting to see how long it would take you to kiss me, so I did it first.” You replied, and his eyes went wide.

Outside the medical room, Fives and the others burst into laughter hearing Kix’s shout’s of disbelief, followed by your laughter, and Fives high fived Echo. “Another successful job done.” Fives grinned, and Echo copied it.

“Yeah, it’s about damn time.”

➺

Kix tag:

Tcw tag:

All:

@moomoog017

[newkatzkafe2023]

The BALLADS OF SUN WUKONGS🐒👑

Yandere Monkey king harem x Manipulative Queen reader

Chapter 4 the Youthful indiscretions Part 1👼

The day begins with Queen Y/n as she makes her way to the mall, you had gotten off a date with Aizen Cai one of the suitors and boi was watching paint dry more exciting then the date you had with him. The public library really man? But anyway, now it's time to blow off some steam

We stretched out and began our shopping 🛍 Meanwhile a familiar group of monkey men stalked us to the mall and saw we went inside a banana republic first. LMK Wukong, NR Wukong, Netflix Wukong, BMW Wukong, and Mk Reborn Wukong. Mk reborn was dressing up his baby son Fruity up in a tiny school boy outfit.

(BMW Wukong) Ok, I don't quite understand. Why are we using specifically Fruity to spy on y/n???🤔🤨

(MKR Wukong) Well...because Silly girl's to young😒

(NR Wukong) Li is to old😅

(Netflix Wukong) Lin can take care of herself 🙂

(Lmk Wukong) Mk would get us exposed faster then a social media platform 😓

(MKR Wukong) and we don't think HIB Wukong would appreciate us using Luier to get with a girl, so Fruity is literally our only option🙄

(BMW Wukong) ummm ok but that doesn't tell me what the plan is???🤨

(Lmk Wukong) The plan is for Fruity to pretend to be a lost child and when his crys get y/n's attention, she'll go over and tend to him and that way while she's helping him we'll get more info on her😄

(BMW Wukong) Ok, good idea and all, but why is he in a school boy outfit😑

(MKR Wukong) To up the cute factor duh🙄, Ok son here she comes just work your chi magic and remember what we practiced😊

(Fruity) Yay i won't let you down baba😙

Fruity then waddled out to the middle of the mall, then sat on the ground pretending to cry

(Fruity) Wahhh!!!!!!😭😭😭😭

Immediately, you felt your ears twitch and quickly looked over to see a tiny, adorable little fruit boy sitting and crying on the ground, and immediately you ran over to him

(Y/n) Awww what's the matter little gummy bean, are you ok???🥺

(Fruity) Wahhhh, I'm lost, wahhhh I can't find my baba 😭😭😭

You frowned at this predicament and put your paw out for Fruity to climb on, but as soon as you did, you noticed something Furry and sharp in the corner of your eye. You spot a familiar tail belonging to a certain extremely violent monkey

With a smirked as you came up with an idea of your own, you then looked down at Fruity and calmed him down, and began to speak with him

(Queen y/n) Don't worry little man, I'll take you to front desk security, maybe we'll run until your baba on the way😈😇

(Fruity)(sniffling) O-okk i-im fruity😢

(Queen y/n) Hewwo Fruity My name is y/n😇(whispering) but you can call me mama😈

Fruity nodded and calmed down Meanwhile with the monkey kings

(MKR Wukong)(whispering) Yes! She took the cute fruity bait, but she's on the move now 😏

(Lmk Wukong)(whispering) alright gang Let's get a move on then😁

Then you took off with fruity through out the mall, with the monkey kings following close behind to collect info on how to win you over, the first store we went to is Swarovski as the watched you buy something but they couldn't make out what it was

(NR Wukong) Ah Swarovski their known for selling real diamonds jewelry 💎

(BMW Wukong) Agreeded

(MKR Wukong) But what did she buy though🤨

(Lmk Wukong) Can't say, I'm using my eyes of truth but I still can't see it😠

(Netflix) We'll figure it out later. Right now, she's leaving😣

Then the monkeys followed you to Bloomingdale's to make some returns

(Netflix Wukong) Ah so she likes to Bloomingdale's?

(BMW Wukong) Yes of course

Then we went to other stores like Ulta, Hot topic, banana republic, Sephora and more. As the monkey kings continued to follow you thoughtout the mall and finally you arrived to the front desk security.

(Queen Y/n)(cooing) Ok little fruit here's the security, I hope your baba will come and find you😚

(Fruity) Ok thank you mama Bye☺️

You had waved goodbye to the little Fruity fairy and left for home, secretly smirking as you left. Afterwords, the monkey kings waited a bit as they watched you leave the mall before MKR Wukong ran over to hug Fruity.

(MKR Wukong) FRUITY! YOU DID SUCH A GOOD JOB BUD😄

(Fruity) Yay I did good?!😆

(MKR Wukong) You did! You did!😁

(NR Wukong) And thanks to this little guy, we have more material and info to use to get Y/n to fall in love with us🥰

(BMW Wukong) YES LET'S GO BACK TO FLOWER FRUIT MOUNTAIN TO CELEBRATE 🥳

(Lmk Wukong) we should tell HIB and the destined one, about our findings too😃

As the monkey kings left the mall excitingly as the monkey men changed and discussed the notes and observations they made, as they brainstormed ideas and plans.

(Netflix Wukong) But Wait did anybody ever found out what Y/n bought from the Swarovski store??😥

You stood on the roof of the mall looking, looking down at the cute monkey men ad the practically ran out of there

(Queen Y/n)(giggling) Aww their so cute when they think their slick😈

You smirked looking at your new crystal peach🍑😈

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG😈