#more often than not for the last few years

[vivwritesfics]

hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?

a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah

love youuuuuu

I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon

Verstappen reader

Warnings: light smut, fingering

When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.

It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.

She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.

So, he flew her out to Qatar.

For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.

But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.

Neither could Lando, either.

He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.

"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.

Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.

""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.

The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.

Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.

"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.

She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.

Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?

That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.

"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.

Fuck, he needed her now.

Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.

It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.

The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.

But he was the one who didn't want her.

As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."

She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"

He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.

She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."

#f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader smut #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader

[fernandopiastri28]

stop to smell the flowers ❀ - oscar piastri

Oscar is so incredulously smitten for his girlfriend to the point he doesn't even know how to express it with words- so he does it through actions and gifts. ~ (self indulgent and SO short)

“Baby?” A soft echo of his voice vibrated through the eerily quiet apartment, not a single noise besides his shoes scuffling against the carpet. Oscar set down his bag on the kitchen counter, toeing his shoes off and kicking them to the side. 

He waited again for a response from his girlfriend- but to no avail. He raised his voice slightly higher this time, moving closer towards the shut door of their bedroom. Keeping his noise down, Oscar pressed down on the handle of the door, attempting to keep the screeching creak to a minimum so as to disturb her, or wake her if she was currently sleeping.

To his unsurprise, his girlfriend was curled up in bed, her head resting at the very bottom of her pillow. Her bottom lip was puffed out over the top one, lashes sweeping over the tops of her cheeks. The quiet whistle of breathing filled the room, cutting through the silence from a lack of a fan going in the background.

She had her arms wrapped around a teddy bear, pressed into her chest. It was a small fluffy koala, adorned in a custom made McLaren jersey, a black 81 printed on the back. She’d named it Oscar, the teddy she held close to her each night when he was away. 

The real Oscar was returning home to Australia and home to his girlfriend after the Miami grand prix, almost a whole month passing since he’d seen her last on the night after the Japanese grand prix, when he’d brought her to the airport to go back to Melbourne, then flying off to China himself.

Due to her being in her last year of university, her availability to go to every race- or even just most- was limited. She came when she could, but it was more often than not that she was at home, cheering him on from the comfort of her own bed or the couch. They'd gotten semi used to the unfortunately forced long distance relationship they now had, but it didn't make it any bit easier each time they had to part. At times, it felt as if each time he had to leave was just more difficult then the last.

She wasn’t expecting him to come back so soon, and nor did he. He fully thought his flight would be the following day and he got comfortable with the idea of a cosy night at the hotel- maybe a call to her and a movie. It wasn’t until Mark had offered the option for him to fly home just a mere four hours after the race ended- he didn’t waste a minute packing his suitcase back up and boarding the flight.

Oscar peeled back the covers on his side of the bed, making sure as to not disturb her in the process. He slid his shirt off over his head, opening up the closet door to find his favourite shirt. Even after a few minutes of searching both the hangers and the drawers without a sight of it, he looked over at his shoulder, smirking when he saw that it was the shirt his girlfriend had chosen for bed today.

Oscar settled for just a plain white top, his ‘OP’ logo imprinted over the left breast. He unbuttoned his blue jeans, allowing them to pool around his ankles until he stepped out, tossing them into the laundry basket. Now dressed in only his boxers and a far more comfortable shirt then the previous ever so itchy team polo shirt, he climbed into bed.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he breathed in the sweet, floral shampoo that filled his senses. It was his favourite smell- it smelt of home. He nuzzled further into her neck, pressing a few chaste, open mouth kisses to her soft skin. 

Holding back from any serious marking, Oscar mouthed at her shoulder, dragging his tongue gently over the fabric on her shoulder, letting his teeth rub against it. “I missed you, beautiful,” He whispered, kissing up along her neck.

She whined, unconsciously twisting around in the bed to be facing toward him. He took the opportunity to press a few consecutive kisses to her lips, enough to settle the desperation for contact that bubbled hot in his stomach. 

Her eyes fluttered, looking as if they would open. “Hi princess,” He tucked some of her hair back behind her ear, nuzzling back into said spot to re-immerse himself in the flowery scent.

“Osccc,” Her voice was thick and groggy with sleep, her eyes open by mere slits in order to block out as much light as possible. “You’re back!” She mumbled with as much enthusiasm as possible while still being mostly asleep.

“Mhmm,” A grin splayed across his mouth, burying his face further into the crook of her neck. “You smell so good,” He kissed the junction of her  shoulder, leaving his lips there for a few more seconds.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be back so soon? I would’ve stayed up,” She cupped his face in her hands, her fingers temperate against his chilly and rosy cheeks. Oscar gave a weak shrug, ignoring the question in lieu for kissing her more to warm himself up. 

“It’s okay- I like this,” Oscar mumbled against her bottom lip, kissing her again and again until his jaw physically ached. “I got you a present,”

She tilted her head back, her left hand still positioned on his jaw- her thumb rubbing over his cheek. “Oh really?” She whispered, giggling as he met her question with a dopey grin.

“In the kitchen,” He rolled away from her, stumbling awkwardly back out of the bed. “C’mon, I promise it’s worth getting out of bed for,” He reassured her when he saw the displeased and unconvinced look on her face.

Begrudgingly, she followed suit- stumbling out of the bedroom door while wiping sleep from her eyes. She clung to Oscar, wrapping both of her arms around one of his, as the bottom of her sweatpants dragged along the wooden floorboard.

“It’s like a welcome home present, but for you- not me,” He handed her a bouquet of an assortment of orange flowers- begonias, marigolds, tulips, poppies. Anything that matched the same papaya colour that she wore across her torso. 

Her heart pounded at the gesture, looking up at Oscar with the most fond expression. “Thank you, Oz,” She wrapped one of her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly as her other hand worked on holding the bundle of flowers. “Thank you so much, I love them,” She couldn’t help the smile that stretched from one ear to the other on her face, her body alight with elation.

“Of course, baby,” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, rubbing her back with the hand that held her just as tight as she was holding him. “I think you deserved it with how you’ve been working,” 

She scoffed slightly, looking up at him with an incredulous expression. “Me working hard? What about you, Mr ‘Four Podiums in Your Second Year in Formula one?’,” 

Oscar gave another mindless shrug, laughing at her comment, “What, like it’s hard?” He teased.

#oscar piastri x original character #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #fluff #f1 x reader #f1 2024 #formula one #formula1 #mclaren #mclaren f1

[netmors]

STAR WARS: Eleventh Fleet AU

Hey-hey, I worked, caught a cold, got sick and that’s enough… …so, concept art for the Eleventh Fleet.

Ar'alani and Vah'nya's designs are fairly simple, but the problem with them in particular, and the Chiss in general, is their clothing and style. There are many official references, including those from Legends, but each artist still has his own vision regarding, for example, the shape of the fleet. Somewhere there is a strong homage to the design from the old canon, somewhere it was modernized, and in the latter they added the same “honor's chains”, which look a little strange on the laconic form. It seems to be in the Chiss style, but very impractical.

As a result, I am reworking the design of the expansion and defense fleet uniform, but more on that another time. Let's return to Ar'alani and Vah'nya.

At the beginning of the events of the "Eleventh Fleet", Senior General Ar'alani on his flagship "Vigilant" is increasingly confronted with the Grysks. A year will pass since her last meeting with Thrawn, when the invaders of the Ascendency space will openly attack the Chiss ships.

Such cat and mouse would continue for another year until the disappearance of another Night Dragon class war cruiser, subsequently leading to disaster in the heart of the Chiss Ascendancy. The Senior General will be one of the few superiors who, along with Ba'kif, can survive. Much of this will be down to Vanto and Ronan - unaccounted for variables in the Grysk's plans. The trust placed in Thrawn's "alien protégés" paid off in full.

The Senior General was often accompanied by Senior Navigator Vah'nya. "Vigilant" almost always accepted missions to search for missing navigators. Vah'nya not only guided the ship through the stars and darkness of outer space, but she was much better at rehabilitating rescued navigators, as well as leading the other navigators on the ship. Friendship with Eli played an important role in this.

Because of her "anomaly" as a Navigator who hasn't lost her powers into adulthood, many of the regulations and rules simply don't work for Vah'nya the way they do for other girls. And to be an “anomaly” for Sindikure is a very subtle walking on the edge of a charrik. And yet, to the dissatisfaction of some aristocrats and syndics, the girl manages to balance on it for quite a long time.

+ bonus Ba'kif timeline concept art.

Because I’m not entirely sure that I’m right, but I really wanted to think about what this gorgeous grandpa would have looked like during the Thrawn. Ascendency Trilogy. And I also reworked his “chains” and other form elements quite a bit. And yes, I’m more than sure that Thrawn adopted Ba'kif’s “style” in his time.

#star wars #eleventh fleet au #navigator vah'nya #thrawn #thrawn ascendancy #ar'alani #admiral ar'alani #vah'nya #ba'kif #supreme general ba'kif #chiss #chiss ascendancy #chiss expansionary defense fleet #chiss defence fleet #thrawn books #thrawn comic #thrawn trilogy #thrawn treason #star wars rebels #ahsoka series #art #my art #netmors #concept art #illustartion #digital art #au #i want to see a meeting between karyn or eli and ba'kif - this is literally the teacher and students of thrawn #almost like the jedi or sith lol - master and disciple #this is my third attempt to draw ar'alani and omg how difficult it is to draw this gorgeous woman

[livwritesstuff]

I keep seeing this TikTok on my fyp and every time it just screams Hazel.

Like, Steve had a blast coaching Moe’s soccer team when she was five, and he did the same for Robbie too (even if she liked it way less than Moe and only did it the one year). He’s totally pumped to be a volunteer coach again when Hazel starts kindergarten.

The thing is, he learned real quick that Hazel is not sporty like her big sister at all.

At no point during the three months of soccer-season did she once voluntarily go near the soccer ball. On the contrary, when it was in her general vicinity, she was usually doing everything in her power to get away from it, and that was when she was actually engaged in the game (which was rare). More often than not, she was otherwise occupied – picking flowers, playing with her hair, figuring out ways to sneak off the field and climb into Eddie’s lap.

As much as Steve is totally fine acknowledging that Hazel’s not interested in sports, he also knows that, as the coach, it’s not a great look that the gossip circle he usually has to break up mid-way through each game is at least co-founded by his daughter.

Like, if Steve calls for a team huddle and his own kid heads in the opposite direction? Not exactly a great show of faith in her dad’s coaching abilities.

(Plus, there was the time she was sitting in the field picking flowers when the ball rolled towards her and she pushed it all the way into the other team’s goal – Steve doesn’t think he’ll be living that one down with the other soccer parents any time soon).

Eddie, on the other hand, thinks that Hazel is so stinking cute, with her little pigtails and her bright pink shin guards, and on some of those fall mornings she gets chilly and needs a jacket (not a windbreaker like the other kids – the fashionista that Hazel is requires her cheetah-print wool coat, obviously). His favorite day of the week for those few fall months becomes game day when he gets to watch Steve wrangle Hazel and all of her soccer shenanigans.

At the end of the season, Hazel, along with all the other kids, gets a trophy from the league.

On the drive home from that last game, Steve tiredly says, “Hazy, I love you so much but I really don’t know who thought your performance warranted a trophy.”

“This is Hazel’s world, Steve,” Eddie reminds him, “The rest of us just live in it.”

#liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

[cas-backwards-tie]

Wonderstruck

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader

Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),

Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding

A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3

He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.

As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.

It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...

Where would he be now if only he listened?

What if you knew better?

He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.

“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.

“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.

“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.

It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.

With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.

“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.

“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.

That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.

That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.

“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.

A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.

“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”

He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.

Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”

Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.

“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”

And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.

For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.

It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.

Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.

The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.

Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.

"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.

You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.

"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.

He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.

With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.

A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."

While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.

"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.

"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"

"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.

You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.

You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.

A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.

Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.

With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.

"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."

"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.

As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.

Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.

With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.

~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #my writing #song fic #taylor swift #cardigan #simon riley x reader angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #simon ghost riley x ex!reader #simon riley x ex!reader #simon riley x cbf!reader #simon ghost riley x cbf!reader #biker!simon riley #song fics

[igotanidea]

Motivation: Benedict Bridgerton x model!reader

requested by @jaysgirlx :Benedict x slightly nude model!reader

***

Stories like that doesn’t happen very often. The chances of recreating the history written by this French poet under the name of Charles Perrault and entitled “Cinderella” was close to none, and yet – Y/N Y/L/N was the fruit of just such an unlikely union.

Her mother was a woman that the ton was more than quick to judge and call the woman fell, just because of her profession. An actress. A word that hardly escaped the mouths of higher class ladies and nobles. It was one thing to enjoy the woman of said profession skills while social event, and the other to acknowledge her presence in the society.

In simple words – the doors were closed for her to ever step out of her social class.

However, life has its own twisted ways of defying and swiftly changing the reality. The flow of the world river is unstoppable and with the right amount of patience, and with the few drops of persistence, water can change the riverbed.

Y/N’s father-to-be, young lord Y/L/N, the firstborn, attended one of the play in the London’s theater, performed due to the Queen’s upcoming birthday celebrations. Instantly getting enamored with young Y/N’s mother-to-be skills and range of emotions. Her talent and beauty, connected with the fact that she was far from the leeches he learned ladies from the ton to be, shone so bright in his eyes, that defying all the laws and rules set ages prior, he forgot his destiny, upbringing and duties to family, started courting the young woman and in time took her as his wife.

Obviously, the fact never got accepted and yet, his lordship, lord Y/L/N got the leverage in the fact he has been the only son and an heir to the title.

Therefore, Y/N, was and simultaneously was not a lady.

Which made her upbringing and consequently her entire life rather complicated.

The young girl took after her mother in the terms of talent and beauty and after her father in terms of humor and boldness.

Which, as you, dearest gentle reader, might already expect, was the reason, that her existence was to get even more complicated. 

***

One foot in one class, second in the other Y/N never felt like she belonged in either. Breaking societal rules just like her father.

Ever at the youngest age she came to a conclusion that her mere being in the world was rather unwelcomed reminder of the misalliance. No governess wanted to teach her. No young girls her age coming from good families wanted to be in her presence. Her own grandpapa and grandmamma never showed any interest in meeting her. Consequently, five year Y/N was practically being raised on the scene. Listening to her mamma’s stories about the wonders of theater, art, performing and becoming someone else to escape the reality that tended to be cruel, judgmental and unforgiving.

Especially the last part was to be remembered.

Especially when her mother felt ill and died before Y/N could reach adulthood. Followed suit by her father, lost in grief after losing the love of his life.

Leaving their daughter all alone, forced by the vicious circumstances to tend by herself.

At first, her noble and very elderly grandparents from father’s side wanted (forced) to take her under their wings, but Y/N quickly realized that they wished to raise her for a noble lady with every method possible. Corporal punishment included. Their simple reason behind the action was to not let a wild girl run around and slander their name.

She run away after less than a month putting on a different last name, an alias of sort.  

And maybe those set of conditions, fueled by the need to keep her parents’ legacy was the reason that upon reaching the age that young ladies were presented to the queen and debuted in the ton, Y/N started her shameful profession as a model in London Art Academy as well as a part-time access.

***

No matter the world’s opinion on her, she was keeping her head high, being proud of who she was, never hiding and refusing to bow down to the nobles, included the one who believed that a model was just another term for courtesan with the clear intent on acting on those convictions.

While other professional girls were timid and working out of sheer necessity to support themselves, their living, and commonly, their children, Y/N refused to hide, making quite a comfortable life for herself, given all the misevents. And as shocking as it may have been in a XVIII century London – thriving without a husband.

Enjoying every second spent in the sacred temple dedicated to art and education of  the future geniuses of the field, taking greatest pride in participating in the process. Sacrificing her heart, mind and soul to the muses.   

*** 

Y/N’s favorite days were those, when she was dressing in fantasy dresses and costumes fulfilling her mother’s words about becoming someone else, taking a mask, a life of an imaginary character, a shell that was to be filled to her own liking. And with her late father’s sense of humor she loved the ability to create characters that somehow mocked the people she knew in real life.

An older lady, busy with everyone’s interest?

A respected matron, whose life’s greatest ambition was marrying her daughters into the noble family?

A royalty with indomitable character and imposing her will without any embarrassment?

All welcomed.

And yet – there were also those specific art lessons for high-born gentlemen that were focused on anatomy. And those never required any intricate outfits at all, except maybe a tiny, thin piece of fabric, reveling more skin than it was societally savory.

***

Y/N might not have had the tiniest waist or the prettiest hair or delicate, fragile figure.

And many student were unsatisfied with said fact (those were the mentioned ones connotating model with hetaira).

And those were also the ones making her smirk under her nose. As if she didn’t know those gentlemen tended to engage in a different kind of art, that has little to zero connection with painting on canvas. Besides, in some cases, if the gentlemen’s  other skills were similar to those they showed in class …. poor wives.

However, there was one of them that seemed a little lost in the place. Not because he did not belong, since his talent was undeniable. It was rather because, unlike anyone else, he never said anything even mildly mean to her. Unlike anyone else he was treating her like a human being and not a chunk of flesh Unlike anyone else, she was a woman to him.

Well, maybe not in that sense of the word, but still a woman.

***

He was watching her with sparkles in his eyes that followed her own, no matter how much she was averting her gaze.

Beautiful.

Not like Daphne with her fair, smooth skin, rosy lips and silky hair.

No.

Y/N, as he learned her name was, was like a force of nature. Untamed. Powerful. With fire in her gaze and statuesque figure making her look like a goodness of war.

Athena.

And he was captivated by the internal strength and resilience that radiated through the whole room, reaching even the dimly lit corner of the classroom he found shelter in. Utterly unable to tear his eyes of her. Noticing the smallest details and blemishes on her skin, that only inflamed the fire of his interest.   

Oh, to have a piece of her attention.

But she was a model. And he was a lord, even if only a second son, deprived of the title. And even if she didn’t know it, her obvious pride would never allow her to approach him. A man from a higher class she learned to be incomprehensible in their love for worldly pleasure, driven by lusciousness, believing themselves to be above anyone else.

She would be more then delighted to take said men down a notch, but regardless of her pride, fire and independent nature, merely one ungrateful word would cause her to loose the job she loved so much.

Nonetheless, Benedict was neither terrene either the one to give up once his mind was made.

And he made it his personal pursuit to meet her.

***

“Lady Y/N.”

She raised an eyebrow at the voice coming from above her head when she was picking up the utensils left everywhere by reckless and uncaring students, used to being served.

“Surely you are joking my lord?”

“And why would I be joking?”

“I am not a lady and you are aware of that considering the circumstances. And if your lady mother—”

“My lady mother is occupied by my brother’s wife searching quest.”

“Oh yes, your brother, the viscount Bridgerton.”

“Mh. So you know who I am, don’t you?” Benedict’s ego went a little higher in the sky.

“Oh my lord, shall you expect me to be deaf and blind to miss the news of the season?”

“I—” the ego crashed down on the ground

“I may surprise you further then, my lord. I am quite capable when it comes to reading. The skill I use for more than merely enjoying Lady whistledown’s brochures, however I do enjoy the style of writing she presents. Quite talented with the narrative.”

“So you are not only a model but also a writer, lady Y/N?”

“And in my free time I also serve as a charlady. A woman of many talents.” She pointed out to the dirty pencils and accessories in her hands

"Such a surprising thought that-"

"That a woman can in fact have some more ambition than marrying into a noble family?"

"You do sound like one of my sisters..."

“Your sister surely is a smart woman."

Benedict shook his head with a smile, gaze pinned to the floor to avoid laughing and somehow offending his companionship.

“Which one of those gentlemen influenced your opinion this heavily?” Benedict grinned

“Excuse me?”

“Just reveal his name to me and I shall demand satisfaction”

This sentence actually made her laugh a little and before they realized what was happening they were both chuckling in the middle of the empty art classroom as if they were from the same class without any social barriers in-between.

“You’re Benedict Bridgerton.”

“And you are Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Indeed, At your service” she bowed in a very funny and very untrained way. “you must have put yourself through a great deal of trouble to learn my deepest secret.”

“And how entertaining it was to do so.”

“Was it?” she titled her head narrowing eyes a little studying his face. “that makes me wonder the purpose of said action.”

“Will you let a man keep a bit of his own secrets?”

“I must refuse to do so.”

“And this is precisely what I have been expecting to hear from you.”

“Are you challenging me now, my lord?”

“Not for a duel if that’s what-“

“It’s not.” She cut him out with a smile “now, If you forgive me, Bridgerton, I have my duties to tend to.” She bowed and with hands full of remnants of the art class started walking away.

“I shall hope to see you in the next class?” he called after her

“I  believe you said your family is occupied with your brother’s marriage …..? Shall you not be invested in those?”

“I—” dear lord, how was it possible that this woman was taking words out of his mouth this effectively? And he believed himself to be the witty one of the siblings. 

“Life is full of mysteries my lord and trying to predict what may happen In a week seems like an exercise in futility.”

She send him the last smile and disappeared for good, leaving Benedict with the lingering sense of dissatisfaction.

And suddenly making him forget about the fact that he has been considering renouncing the academy membership Anthony have so generously provided him with.

Having gained additional motivation, he was more determined to persevere.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fic

[arlathavellan]

The Silence Left in My Wake

Fandom: ACOTAR

Pairing: (past) Rhysand x Reader, Azriel + Reader, Morrigan + Reader, Cassian + Reader

Reader: she/her, High Fae, Y/N used

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

<<request>>

For a while, you had convinced yourself they would come for you. Cassian, Azriel, Morrigan... Rhysand. It was the one hope you held onto over the years. But fifty years is a long time to hope for something that will never happen. || The world keeps spinning when we're gone. Unfortunately for you, that means when you're finally free after over fifty years of captivity, nothing is the same. Once told you would marry the love of your life and become his Lady of Night, you come come face-to-face with your new reality, and reunite with the family you had been waiting on to save you.

The Court of Nightmares was no place to dream. You had no hopes, no freedom, no choice in the life you would live.

Then came the High Lord; Rhysand. A dark force of nature, who came into your life like a terrific storm and upended everything you thought you knew. With Rhysand, you let your walls crumble, let yourself imagine a life outside of that mountain. There were politics to navigate before he could steal you away, of course, but he assured you that one day he'd sweep you off into his City of Dreams and make you his wife, his Lady.

But The Court of Nightmares was no place to dream.

Rhysand had the perfect story to spin for your father; a proper marriage alliance with the High Lord himself. Your father was not the ambitious fool your lover took him for. He knew there would be no true alliance, that marrying you off would be no better than sending you away to never hear from you again. After all, Morrigan was at his side, and Keir was no better in his good graces for it.

Cassian and Mor both advocated for taking you anyways, but you agreed with Azriel when he argued all the ways that could end badly. As much as you wanted out of that mountain, you wanted to truly be free from it. So, Rhysand continued his painstaking negotiations, with his patience whittling down to nothing. Compromise seemed impossible between the two bull-headed fae, and you began to wonder if the end was in sight.

Then, the worst came to pass.

Amarantha, who you had been carefully hidden from upon her visit to Hewn City (one of the only things Rhysand and your father could agree on), forever changed the the course of fate in one fell swoop.

It was Azriel who had visited you that morning, half-hidden in the shadows in case your father or one of his servants entered your room. He told you of the meeting Rhysand had been invited to with the other High Lords, Amarantha hoping to “make amends” for her actions during the war. He told you of Rhysand's plans to finally take you to Velaris, father be damned, before she was made aware of your existence.

"Pack only what you need," Azriel had said. "If Rhysand doesn't make it, I will come get you myself— Mor and Cassian have been preparing for you all morning."

You had laughed, sending him off with a chaste kiss on the cheek as he melted back into the darkness, his shadows curling around the hand you’d held against his jaw.

That was the last you had heard from them. For the next fifty years, you were well and truly alone.

-----

That night, your father had stormed into your room while you were getting your bag together. Grabbing it and you, he dragged you down to the dungeons and threw you in a cell with a simple “be quiet, and stay safe.”

It wasn't often that your father came to visit you himself. His visits became more and more scarce over the first few years, until you would go years before seeing him again. He looked more haggard every time. You were so lonely that you started to miss him.

You took solace in the darkness at first, but it soon became your greatest torment. Something would move in the corner of you eye and your heart would soar, thinking maybe—just maybe—those familiar shadows had found you. Maybe you would soon be free.

The wraith servants who brought you your food were your only company, and they barely said a word. The room was smaller than your bedroom, not much more than a cell with a bed, desk, and bookcase thrown in, and the bathroom had you longing for your carved tub.

No one would tell you anything. Screaming yourself hoarse got tiring after a while, and your father remained outwardly unmoved by your tears. A dread had crept into your chest, wondering if he had discovered Rhysand's plans to take you away to Velaris. He never mentioned it, but the timing couldn't have been more suspicious. No one had come for you, not even Azriel. How had he stopped even the Shadowsinger from getting to you? Surely the High Lord and his Spymaster had access to the Hewn City dungeon.

You stopped asking questions years ago. Now, you wallow in your monotony, reading every book on your shelf by dim candle light, and occasionally letting those delivering your food know that you needed new ones. They'd always bring you more the next morning, your father's scent, fir and petrichor, faint on the covers and pages. Some nights, when the isolation grew to be too much, you'd hold onto them and cry. You never thought you'd miss the days of your childhood, of him teaching you personally from his own library. You never thought you'd miss your father.

He'd never been like Keir, never treated you the way Mor was, but you'd certainly never have called him loving. And now, he'd locked you in a heavily warded cell and refused to tell you why. You started to feel an odd kinship with the monster you knew lurked beneath the stone, trapped here as you were, only seeing someone when it was time to be fed.

Time blurred together. How long had it been since Rhysand had promised to marry you, since Mor promised a shopping trip, Cassian promised to train you, and Azriel promised to make sure you made it to Velaris? Why had no one come for you?

"Who?" you ask, voice shaking as you sit up in your bed. "Why did you do this to me?"

Then, you’re woken one morning to some answers from your father.

"I'm sorry," he says, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his back to you. "I couldn't let them find you. They would have torn you to pieces just to hurt him."

A tense silence falls on the room. "Amarantha trapped the courts Under the Mountain. Rhysand stood at her side for fifty years, and his Inner Circle were unreachable."

Your heart plummets in your chest at his admission.

"I told Keir you were gone, that they had taken you before they disappeared," he continues, voice oddly soft. "I couldn't reach his daughter or the Spymaster, or even that damned General to take you away from here. He told Amarantha about you, wanting to get in her good graces, and she had that damn Attor tear the manor apart looking for you."

He runs a hand down the wall your headboard is against, and you get a peek at new scars across his skin as his sleeve falls at the motion. "This cell is warded heavily. If Rhysand knew you were in here, he was good at hiding it. But Keir kept sending his Darkbringers to check every so often, either hoping to catch me off-guard or just remind me of where I stand. This was the only place I could think of that even they wouldn’t search."

"What happened?" You finally ask. "Why tell me now?"

"Feyre Cursebreaker," he says with a resigned tone. "High Lady of the Night Court, and Rhysand's mate. She defeated Amarantha, and now we’re preparing for war with Hybern."

Nausea rises in your throat. Out of everything he said, Amarantha, Keir, war—one fact continues to ring in your head. "His mate."

“I’ve tried to get into contact with them since they reemerged, but they’ve refuse to hear me.” He looks back at you, and you wonder if his gaze has always looked so empty. “If Keir knows you are alive, he will kill us both. The High Lord’s lackeys are the only ones who can get you out safely.”

The stress of your situation settles heavily on your shoulders. “So I’m stuck here. Is that what this is leading up to?”

You watch his brows pinch as he considers for a long moment. With a weary sigh, he stands from your bed. “I’ll bring some stationery.”

He drags a heavy hand down his face, but makes no move to deny it.

“Let me write a letter,” you say. “They may not listen to you, but I may have more luck.”

-----

News of the war ending comes long before any response. A letter a month for three months, before they start getting sent back. Perhaps that in itself is a response. The first time he brings a letter back, you let yourself break down. It had been years since you had any hope hopes to crush, but you had let yourself imagine for a moment that it could all be over.

What was even waiting for you out there, now? Your future had been stolen from you the moment the High Lords put their trust in Amarantha, the moment Keir turned his gaze your way. Perhaps it was always supposed to happen like this, with you alone in the end and Rhysand with his mate and High Lady.

In the end, it's Keir who lets it slip and hands you the key to your freedom. Keir, whose mouth works faster than his brain, who looks for any opportunity to hurt his daughter. Keir who sneers, asking how Rhysand’s Hewn City pet felt about being pushed aside for Feyre Archeron.

And it's that daughter who finds you. Holed up in your cell, sitting on your bed and reading anything you can find to take your mind off of your eternal solitude.

It scares you, the way she throws the door open. Her eyes are wide, breath ragged, as if she'd run all the way down to the dungeon instead of the simple winnow she'd more likely done. You hold her gaze, eyes burning as the silent disbelief stretches between you. Setting your book down carefully, you stand from the bed slowly, as if moving too quickly would make her disappear. She stumbles forward, and you find yourself meeting her halfway as her arms wrap around you almost too tightly.

"I thought he was lying," she says, voice shaking. "I wanted him to be lying. I wanted to go back up there and tear his tongue from his lying mouth and—"

"I'm so sorry, Mor," you manage, squeezing her just as tightly.

"Rhys said you were dead, Y/N," she presses. "Your father—"

"Has been trying to tell you all."

A sob chokes its way through her throat, and you're soon joining her. You hear her try to ask more questions, most starting with why, but she seems to find the answers herself before she even gets them out.

"I'm so sorry, Mor," you repeat.

Your reunion doesn't last in peace much longer.

"We have to tell them," she says, face buried in your neck. "Cassian, Azriel— fuck, Y/N, we had a funeral for you. There's a bird bath in the garden with your name carved into it, we thought you were dead. Cauldron, we were just down here, how did we not…"

Pulling from her, you wipe your damp face with your sleeve. She doesn't let you go too far, an arm still wrapped firmly around your waist as she dabs at her own watery eyes.

"I'm getting you out of here." The words you wanted to hear all these years, feeling like a dagger to the heart.

"Mor," you sigh. "I don't know if I can go to Velaris anymore. It's been so long, but I don't know if I can stand in front of him and his mate and say I'm happy for him without breaking."

She cradles your cheek with her free hand, resolute. "Azriel should have taken you with him. He's regretted it every day, leaving you here. We won't make that mistake again. I have a place you can stay at, at least until you figure out what you want to do. But, please, don't ask me to leave you here."

Hesitation grips you tight, the fear of opening your heart up to hope once more. But the look in her brown eyes, her hands warm against your cheeks, has you nodding. "Okay. I'll go."

Her lips smash against your forehead, and you wonder idly if she left a smear of red behind as she pulls away to start grabbing your belongings.

The first time she winnows you into a forest, you cry. Maybe a single tear rolling down your cheek would have felt more poetic, but you're left with the embarrassing kind of chest-shaking sobs.

"It's okay," she murmurs, rubbing your back. "There's going to be a lot of that. Just let it out when it hits you."

Her attempts at lightening the mood are mostly successful, but a lingering dread persists in your gut as you get closer to Velaris. You trust Mor not to drag you there against your will, but there was nothing your mind was better at than exploring worst-case scenarios. The journey thankfully passes without incident, and as you set your bag down on her living room floor you find yourself buzzing with some kind of anticipation.

"Tell them." The sound of your voice has her head snapping to you, eyes wide. "I need a bath first, but… tell them. I can't ask you to lie for me, not to them."

Mor shows you to your room, and you do indeed take your bath. Feeling a little greedy with the hot water, you soak and scrub a little more than usual as you watch the trees outside the window.

A pained expression crosses her face as she takes you into her arms once more. As you wrap yourself around her in turn, you wonder the last time you've ever been held this much in your eighty-odd years.

"Take your bath," she says, voice soft. "There are very few things they'd drop to be here."

How did you ever survive inside of a mountain, never knowing the world outside? Would you survive if you were ever made to go back?

-----

You help Mor set the table. Adjusting plates to hide your shaking hands, rearranging silverware to keep your mind occupied. Eventually, she perks up with a shaking breath.

“Cas and Az are on their way,” she says, slowly sinking into her chair. Relief and disappointment grapple for control at the sound of the short list. The look she gives you does nothing to help.

“Feyre just… had a baby. She and Rhys won’t be leaving Velaris if they can help it.” A baby.

You manage a smile, as painful as it is genuine. “Tell them I understand, please. And that I’m happy for them.”

Her hands reach out across the table, taking yours and rubbing circles into your scrubbed-sore skin. “I’m so sorry this is how things happened. If we knew you were in there—”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” you interrupt. “Not really. But I’m out now.”

Squeezing her hands in reassurance, you watch her expression crumble. Desperate to change the conversation, a thought comes to you.

“Could we… eat outside?” Her head lifts at your words, eyes widening slightly. “I saw a table on the patio out back, and as lovely as your home is I don’t think I’ve gotten enough of… outside.”

She laughs, something happy and sad all at once as your words seep in. “Yeah. Yeah, we can eat outside. It’s nice out, anyways. Staying in would be a waste of a perfectly good sunset.”

And just like that, you once again busy yourself with setting the table. This time, however, your guests arrive before you can readjust the silverware. They sound like thunder as they near the patio, their wings covering you in momentary darkness. Then, a literal darkness as Azriel’s shadows swirl around you in a miniature tornado, checking for themselves that you’re you, and you’re alright.

“What the fuck,” Cassian begins, as eloquent as ever.

Mor comes behind you as you turn towards them, placing a grounding hand against the small of your back.

There’s a moment of stunned silence, no one knowing quite where to begin, before Cassian rushes in as he does best and sweeps you off your feet. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat, holding him tightly as he swings you around. What feels like a sentient breeze plays with your hair and caresses your cheek, and you find yourself in another pair of arms as soon as your feet hit the ground.

Unspoken words hang heavy as Azriel carefully lowers you back onto the floor. From the lack of questions, you can deduce that Mor had filled them in as much as she could before their arrival. This wasn’t to be an interrogation.

“Who’s hungry?” She asks, pulling out a chair.

-----

Dinner is significantly less awkward than you had feared. Cassian and Morrigan do most of the talking, and a familiar darkness curls comfortingly around your leg whenever it feels you drifting someplace less pleasant.

“I think you’ll like Nesta,” Cassian says. “She can be a viper, but only if you’re trying to piss her off.”

You laugh as you push what’s left of your food around. “I hear she’s quite the reader. We’ll have some common ground at least.”

Mor’s breath hitches and you feel the shadows at your feet twitch in apprehension, but Cassian takes it in stride with a booming laugh. “Cauldron, I’d like to see that. Maybe you could expand each other’s horizons, start a book club.”

The topic dances around what you’re all trying to avoid; the one you’d been waiting to save you for over fifty years. Your head is spinning a bit from all the talking and laughing, but you fear if you send them home you’ll never see them again.

“Do you want to come to Velaris?” Azriel’s voice startles you so badly you nearly don’t even register the question.

“Az,” Mor hisses, all her delicate conversation work thrown out with one question.

You look at him as you consider your answer, and find he has no expectations written on his face. It’s not a probing question, no demand for a response. Just a friend asking where you stand.

“Eventually,” you say, voice quiet. “Maybe not yet.”

He nods, unwilling to press further, and motions for Cassian to continue.

“Not like we’d mind coming out here to visit,” the General says, barely missing a step. “Mor never lets us come around, now she can’t turn us away.”

She laughs, brushing off the earlier upset. “If I want to spend time with you all, I can do it at one of our, what is it, four houses in the city?”

The two continued their lighthearted bickering as you all finished up dinner, acting as if no time had passed. While you had time to mourn your lost future as Rhysand’s wife, you had truly missed the friendships that had been taken from you. Right on cue, as the dark thoughts began to creep in, you were pulled back out. This time not by the shadows lazing about your ankles, but their master himself, his warm hand covering yours on the table. His gaze is soft when you look at him, more vulnerable than you’re used to seeing him.

Mor’s words from earlier swim in your head. ‘He’s regretted it every day, leaving you here.’

Turning your hand over, you squeeze his back with a smile. “It seems we all have some catching up to do.”

“I can go into the city tomorrow and get some stuff for your room,” Mor says, clapping her hands together and drawing your attention. “This place is mine alone, so it’s home for as long as you’ll have it.”

All the laughing, smiling, and talking is starting to make your face hurt, but you can’t seem to stop. “Make sure you stop by a market. I’ve been craving blackberry pie for the last thirty-odd years, and I might just have to make it myself.”

Azriel squeezes your hand. “Elain can make one. I think she’d like to meet you.”

“She needs more friends,” Cassian says. “She might even wander off and turn that weed patch over there into a garden.”

“Hey!” Mor laughs. “Those aren’t weeds, they’re the natural flora of the area!”

You shrug. “They’re pretty to me. But I wouldn’t mind some flowers.”

The blonde smiles with a roll of her shining eyes. “Fine, she can plant some flowers.”

“Pushover!” Cassian shouts with a barking laugh.

In the morning, you’ll wonder if dinner even happened. If you were really free, if Mor, Cas, and Az were really here, wrapping arms and hands around you like the past fifty years had been a bad dream. You’ll lay there thinking about the future, about the one person you had been longing to see most who hadn’t been there at all. You’ll think about how to move forward, how to build a new life, and how to find your place in lives already built. You'll wonder why no one responded to your father, what had happened to your letters, why no one seemed to notice a cell in the dungeons being used for fifty years. Why Rhysand told them you were dead.

But for now, you think only of the people who are there, who are keeping your thoughts light and your glass full. No matter what happens, you know you’ll be able to keep walking forward, in whatever direction that may be in. So for tonight, you let those worries sit in the corner of your mind for another time.

#acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #arlathavellan: acotar #arlathavellan: fanwork

[squoxle]

˚₊‧꒰ა All Good Girls Burn In Hell ♡ S.Eunseok ff ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

💠pairing: Eunseok x Reader!afab | 💠wc: 7.1k | 💠cw: profanity, religious themes, drug use, abuse, coercion, protected and unprotected sex | 💠plot: Your tired of being mommy’s little girl so you sneak out to a college party with the Devil’s Advocate…

With the pressure of being the perfect daughter weighing on your shoulders, the last thing you needed right now was a boy. Especially not when that boy was Song Eunseok He was everything you weren’t and the complete opposite of what your parents believed in. Rule Breaker. Trouble Maker. Bad Boy.

His beauty... charmed you like a snake, entrapping you in his comforting grasp before crushing the life out of you.

His words... were like the devil’s music, enchanting you with his lovely tune as he led you down a path of darkness.

And his eyes... God his eyes were the most delicate yet aggressive feature of his face. Boldly standing out with a gentle aura surrounding them.

He was the perfect temptation. Sent by Satan himself to draw you away from purity and righteousness.

And you were the perfect target. You were weak and he could tell, which is what made corrupting you that much easier.

Your home life was just about as chaotic as you'd expect an extremely religious family to be.

“Honor thy father and thy mother, for this is the first commandment with promise,” she would say this whenever you did anything remotely ‘disrespectful’ in her eyes. “Don’t you want to live a long and happy life?”

Sometimes her words felt like vain repetition or taunts echoing through your head, as her method of reprimanding you often came in the form of lectures.

The neurotic controlling nature of your mother could only be tamed by one thing—aside from the public eye—and that one thing was…your father.

Unfortunately he was no longer around and your mother often blamed you for his absence.

Your mother taught you that a wife should submit to her husband for he is the head of the family and you--as his wife--are to be his helpmate.

Though that sounds fair, for the most part, Mom had a much harsher way of embedding what she believed into the lives of her children. Especially her daughters.

After your rebellious older sister ran off 4 years ago with her motorcycle-riding girlfriend, all hell broke loose at home. You had now been promoted to the oldest of the siblings and were therefore subject to physical pain on top of everything else. It felt like you permanently resided within the confines of a chapel, which often felt more like a prison than a home.

You’d had enough of this torture. You needed a break away from the unreasonably structured environment. Just for once, you wanted to feel like you were the one pulling the strings.

Never did you expect to hand your strings over to a new puppet master.

To keep things brief, you'd met Eunseok through your best friend Faith. Ironically, she was a girl you met at Sunday school in 9th grade who definitely wasn’t the perfect little angel people thought she was.

One time her dad almost caught her smoking outside. The way she launched that bud halfway across the street before sticking a sucker in her mouth was insane. Another time you could remember her telling you the story of how she snuck a boy into her room to have sex while her parents were sleeping…well the boy was her boyfriend, but still.

She had a wild side that you found alluring. Which made you wonder if you had a one too, well one apart from the scenarios you enacted in your imagination.

As a freshman in college, you were ready to try to relax a little.

"Or maybe not," you thought to yourself as you woke up to the sound of religious music playing from the kitchen. Your mother did this nearly every morning at the exact same time, almost like clockwork.

You could smell the coffee brewing, coupled with the scent of bread toasting. You knew you could only roll around in bed for a few more minutes before it was time to get up. Not only did you still have a bedtime, but you also had a specific time to wake up. No later than 8 o'clock were you expected to be out of your pajamas and have your bed made.

"Nothing comes to a man in his sleep, but dreams," another saying your mother loved repeating.

You lived in a house with two younger twin brothers and shared a room with your big sister. Though, now that she was gone, dust bunnies were the only thing sleeping in her bed.

One thing you had to learn was to be the first one in the bathroom. Sometimes you'd get up earlier to avoid the chaotic morning bustle.

After getting dressed you grabbed an apple for breakfast and waited for your mom to drop you off for your first day of uni. Luckily, you and Faith were going to the same university, so that eliminated the anxiety that came with being completely alone on a huge campus for the next four years of your life.

Unfortunately, loneliness, like most of your other personal problems, was none of your mother's concern. "Read and pray," she'd tell you. "The Lord will comfort you."

As this was your first semester in college, you decided to knock out a good chunk of your core classes, English, Math, History, and Politics.

After 3 hours that felt more like a lifetime, your first lecture had finally ended. By now hungry didn't compare to what you were experiencing right now. Unfortunately, you forgot to bring your wallet which meant that water would have to fill you up for now.

“I can already tell this semester is going suck ass. And the next 16 weeks of my life or going to be a nightmare from hell,” Faith sighed as she dropped her backpack on the ground beside her.

You had met up with her outside at one of the round red tables that were scattered across the open green field.

"Oh, come on you can’t say that. It’s only the first day, give it about a week or so, and then see if you still feel the same way," you said trying to encourage her to look on the bright side.

"No, you don’t get it. This guy hates me, like literally hates me. You should've seen the way he looked at me," she sighed. "God, he was such a fucking scumbag."

"Who?"

"My stupid fucking sociology professor. He started nagging about some bullshit and I called him out for it," she rolled her eyes before pulling out a box of cigarettes. "Want one?"

"No, thanks," you held your hand up. "Wait this is a no-smoking zone," you said as Faith lit the end.

"Shit, my bad," she shrugged before picking up her bag and walking off. "You're coming, aren't you? You're not just gonna tell me I can't smoke here and expect me to go off by myself," she held the cigarette between her two fingers.

"No, sorry, I'm coming," you stuttered.

"You better."

You followed your blue-eyed friend to a brick wall that was high enough that when you sat on it your feet couldn't touch the ground.

"So I guess we found our secret place," Faith smiled. "A sweet escape from the terrors of uni and their stupid, boring bullshit," she puffed.

You and Faith often found little areas that you claimed as your own. This was just another spot to add to your map of many discrete destinations.

"Woah, what the hell was that?" Faith looked as your stomach growled uncomfortably loud.

"All I had was an apple this morning and I'm starving," you sighed before cracking open your water bottle to take a sip.

"Well, that water isn't gonna do shit for ya. Let's go grab you something to eat," she hopped off the wall before putting her cigarette out on a rock.

"I can't...I forgot my wallet at home and my mom is already on her way here," you sighed before joining her on the ground.

"So what? I have money. Besides, it's not like she's gonna kill you for grabbing something to eat," Faith slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'm kinda hungry myself."

You’d be lying if you said you didn't have a slight gut feeling that your mom would be upset about this. But maybe Faith was right. There's no way your mom would get mad at you for eating...right?

After splitting a sandwich you headed to the front of the school to find your mom parked in a handicap spot. You waved to Faith as you walked over to the passenger side of the vehicle.

"So, how was your first day of college?" your mom asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"It was good," you nodded as your mom pulled down the sun visor to reapply her Cherry Blossom Bliss tinted lipgloss. "How was your day?" you asked as you placed your bag on the floor between your legs as you looked out of the window.

"Good," she said plainly as she closed the car mirror and closed her gloss before tucking it away in her clutch bag.

You drove around a bit in silence before you heard the sound of her coin-filled bag swinging through the air. Hitting you in the mouth. Strangely enough, you heard the soft jingle before you actually felt the pain.

"Don't ever keep me waiting like that again. When I come here to pick you up you need to be ready," your mother said as you turned to her in shock, covering your mouth that was now decorated with a sliver of blood that seeped through the crack of your lower lip.

"But, I--" Your attempt to explain yourself was cut off by the stinging pain from your head as your mother dug her nails into your scalp.

"Are you talking back? Don't talk back to me you fucking brat," she spat. At this point, you knew that saying or doing anything else was just going to trigger her to spiral so you wiped the tear from your eye, attempted to fix your hair, and sat back in silence until you made it home.

It was moments like this that you wanted someone to vent to. But what good would that do? Even if you told Faith about this nothing would change. This was your life and the only smart thing you could do was learn from your mistakes.

Don't be late.

Don't talk back.

The next couple of weeks were like the first minus getting attacked for being late. You went to class, you did your homework, and you hung out with Faith. Today, your class had ended early since it was almost spring break and you took this as an opportunity to spend more time with Faith before your mom came to pick you up.

But today was a day to mark on your calendar as the beginning of your ending...

“Hey, Faith,” you said shyly as you noticed the two boys that sat with her. One of them being none other than Eunseok.

She waved to you tapping a spot beside her for you to sit. “Hey girl, we were just talking about going to one of the fraternity houses this weekend for a little get-together,” she smiled mischievously. "What d'you say? Wanna join us for some life-changing fun?"

You knew that look, and nothing good ever came from that. You’d been invited to gatherings like this before and always declined. You never regretted your decision either, especially when she’d tell you about all of the horrible things that happened. Faith never saw the stories how you did, they all sounded like exciting retellings of the glorious moments you missed out on.

"No that's alright," you chuckled as she glared at you with her big blue puppy dog eyes.

"Pleeeeeease," she whined, pouting her lips and squeezing your thigh.

"No, Faith," you giggled. "You're just gonna run off and leave me all by myself."

"I'll be there," Eunseok smirked. "In case she does abandon you," he sat on the opposite side of you placing his arm behind you.

"I-uhh," you stammered.

"Cool it big boy, she's not into that kind of stuff," Faith budded.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know she was gay," Eunseok said, slightly backing away.

"Oh no. I'm not gay," you spat.

"Okay then, lesbian? Bisexual?"

"No, I'm straight. I just don't like boys," you were doing an awful job at pleading your case and you could see Faith holding in her laughter as she watched the awkward interaction between you two.

"How the hell are you straight, but you don't like boys? That makes no fucking sense."

"No. Wait. I like boys, but I'm not allowed to date."

"Who said anything about dating," he chuckled. "Are you already trying to claim me?"

"I never said that. I mean. Ugh, nevermind," you sighed.

"Relax, I'm just joking. Faith already told me about preserving your purity."

"Yep, I sure did. So you don't have to worry about him trying to lead you astray," Faith smiled.

"Eh hmm," the other boy cleared his throat.

"Oh, right. I forgot. This is Theo. I met him a year ago at a party and we've been friends ever since," Faith said as the boy waved.

"You got me over here feeling like an outcast," he smirked.

"Well, she barely knows that goofball, Eunseok. I think this was the first conversation they ever had." Their conversation faded in the background as you dug deep into your mind only to realize that this was your first time actually speaking to Eunseok.

You were much younger when you first met and you've always been one to keep to yourself. Plus, your sister had just left and life at home wasn't so great. So there wasn't much to talk about.

"So, you're coming right?"

"Huh?"

"The party this weekend...you're coming right?" Faith asked again.

"I don't think so. Sorry," you replied.

"Hmm...well I'm not gonna force you. Maybe next time," she said patting your shoulder. "Oh shit," she sighed as you noticed your mom walking over to you.

"I've been waiting in the car for over an hour now and you're out here goofing off with boys?"

"Mom, it's not like that I was just--"

"I don't wanna hear it. Go get in the car. Right now. We're going home," your mom looked everything but happy right now. She must've known you got out early and had been waiting for you all this time. Scared didn't begin to describe what you were feeling right now.

To your surprise, the entire ride was silent. Even when you made it home, pure silence. You went upstairs to take a shower before going to your room to study.

As you were going through your drawers to pick out an outfit, a head-spinning blow knocked you to the ground. Your mother's angry face hovered over you as she raised her hand to hit you again.

"You attention-seeking slut," she sneered. "You're just like your whoring sister," she hummed before grabbing your hair and dragging you to the middle of your room.

"I didn't do anything! I swear," you whined. "We were just talking!"

"First you'll have boys kissing and touching all over you. And the next thing you know, you'll be with a girl too. You'll be confused and broken. Just like your sister," your mother's eyes pierced through your soul like fiery daggers as she continued to berate you.

"I wish you had been born a boy like your brothers. I'd rather have a house full of men than one filled with whores in training," her words lingered in the air as she walked over to your bedroom door. "Sometimes, I wish your sister would've taken you with her."

Every word you thought of saying was caught in your throat. You were being choked by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and disparity. This was a common pattern whenever your mom would get violent.

Senseless slut shaming and misjudgment of your character coupled with the clawing sensation of her nails digging into your scalp was too much.

Dragging your hand across your face, you wiped the tears from your cheeks as you curled up into a ball on the floor. The sound of the ceiling fan clinking blended with the ticking of the clock that hung on your wall. You ended up falling asleep on the floor with your knees to your chest.

If not for the lamp on your desk, you'd be in complete darkness.

The next morning you woke up earlier than you normally would. This gave you a chance to shower before going to school.

The water ran down your body as you thought back to what happened last night. You turned your back to the pouring water but flinched as you were met with a stinging pain. You looked over your shoulder to see small scratches on your back--likely from being dragged across the carpet floor.

You searched under the bathroom cabinet for something to clean the wound with. Nothing but a bottle of toner stared back at you.

"Well there's alcohol in it," you mumbled to yourself as you poured the liquid on a cotton ball. You dabbed every spot within your reach before throwing your clothes on.

"You alright?" Eunseok asked. His voice caught you off guard as you drifted off into your thoughts. Faith had walked off for a smoke break with Theo, leaving you behind with the dark-eyed boy.

"Yeah," you smiled feignly.

His energy was different than it had been before. Maybe it was because he saw how your mom behaved when she saw you guys talking.

"You sure? Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit," he said tilting his head to meet your eyes.

"There's just a lot on my mind right now," you sighed.

"Wanna talk about it? I'm a pretty good listener."

"No, I'm okay. It's not like that'll do anything anyway," you sniffed. Crying was the one thing you'd never do in public. And you'd rather struggle on your own than bring other people into your personal business for no reason.

"Alright, fine. Well then how about we not talk about it together this weekend."

"I can't go to that party. My mom would kill me."

"Well, you look like you're halfway in the grave already. You could use a bit of excitement in your life."

"But I've never...I can't..."

"You're an adult. You can't let your mom dictate your life forever," you were quiet before he continued. "I'm sure you can just ask your dad, right?"

"Yeah, that would probably work if he was still around."

"Oh...sorry I didn't know."

"It's fine. He's not dead, but he might as well be. I'm sure my mom would be happier if he was."

"If you don't me asking...what happened anyway?"

"Well, basically he left us because my mom is literally insane. They would always fight. And one night he came into our bedroom and slid a note under our pillow," you thought back to the feeling of him placing a kiss on your forehead as you laid there pretending to be asleep. You watched as he wiped the tears from his face. To this day you regret not saying anything. Not doing anything.

"That was the last time you saw him?"

"Yeah..."

"You're going to that party," Eunseok whispered before placing his hand on top of yours.

"How?"

"I'll sneak you out on Saturday night," He said pulling out his phone. "What's your number?"

You looked down at your hands as you shamefully replied. "Even if I give you my phone number, my mom takes it at night time..."

"Damn. Well, I'll just give you my old phone. I barely use it now so I won't be looking for it," he said reaching into his bag. He pulled out the smaller black phone which was protected by a bulky plastic case. "It's a dinosaur, but it still works," he chuckled.

"Are you sure? What if I get caught?"

"Relax, you won't. You just have to keep it hidden until tomorrow night. After that, you're in the clear," he smiled.

"Okay, but if I get in trouble it's all you're fault and I'll probably never forgive you," you said as you took the phone from his hands.

Maybe a night out would do you good...

To be completely honest, it didn't take much convincing to get you on board. He was attractive as hell and as much as you hated it, he definitely had an effect on you.

"Deal," he chuckled as he watched you slip the phone into your bag.

"What are you losers yapping about?" Faith grinned as she skipped back over to you and Eunseok.

"Uh--"

"I was just helping our little friend plan her escape," Eunseok said, cutting you off as he pulled you in for a side hug. "Isn't that right?"

You nodded as Theo clapped his hands together. "Awesome! Another innocent soul to claim for Satan," he words sent chills up your spine as you thought back to what happened the night before.

"Hey? You alright?" Faith asked as your face went blank.

"Yeah...I was just umm...I was just thinking about some stuff," you replied, trying your best to play it off. "Shoot!" you spat.

"What?" Faith asked.

"My mom is on her way. I gotta go," You snatched your bag up and began walking off.

"Oh...but--"

"Sorry, I don't wanna get in trouble again," you continued as you drifted back into your thoughts.

"Hey," you felt a large hand palm your shoulder. You whipped around to see Eunseok standing in front of you. "If you ever need someone to talk to, remember that I'm here for you," you nodded as his hands slid down your arms to your hands.

A warm feeling rushed to your face as all of your previous worries melted away. It was like he was the first person to take your mind off of everything negative in your life. He was like a drug and you were afraid to get addicted.

You both stared at each other for a bit before he pulled you in for a hug. "I'll be over to break you out tomorrow night. Don't forget, okay?" His voice sounded even more soothing when he held you close. The gentle vibrations from his throat were just about as relaxing as soaking in a hot tub.

You hummed in response before walking off to join your mom in the car.

11:24pm tomorrow night...

You quietly tiptoed through the darkness of your bedroom to your dresser. You pulled out the bottom drawer to grab Eunseok's phone from its hidden place.

Feelings of guilt, fear, and anxiety tugged at your heart as you thought back to the moment between you and your mom in the car the day before.

"I'm really sorry for how I reacted the other day..." your mom bit her lip as she gripped the steering wheel. "It's just that I'm afraid to lose you the way I lost your sister..."

You could feel the genuine pain and regret in her tone as she poured out to you.

"I don't want you to make terrible mistakes that you'll regret in the future. And sometimes...exploding is the only way I know how to fix it. That's how my parents were with me."

This was no excuse for her actions, but this did make you feel a sense of pity for her. It was almost enough to make you cancel. But you needed this more than anything else right now.

You just wanted a small taste of what else life had to offer you...

Anything was better than spending all of your free time in this hellhole.

You powered the phone on to text Eunseok.

"She's sleep. You can come pick me up whenever." you sighed as you waited anxiously for him to text back.

"Alright, princess. Your knight in shining armor is on the way to rescue you from the evil dragon." Reading his text made you giggle a bit as you struggled to find anything remotely skimpy to wear. Nothing but an old baby blue dress from your sister hung idly in the back of your closet.

You quickly hopped into the dress and slipped into a pair of silver heels.

*Tap. Tap. Tap*

The tapping sound from the window nearly made you jump out of your skin. The moonlight dimly lit your features as you turned to see Eunseok's face behind the glass. You tapped your finger against your lips, signalling him to stop.

You opened the window and stuck out your first leg to climb out. Eunseok came close to guide you out by the waist. "You ready?" he smirked.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Then let's get the hell out of here," he chuckled, grabbing your hand and running with you to his orange Dodge Challenger. You climbed into the passenger seat as Eunseok closed the door behind you.

Your heart was beating fast as hell, probably the fastest it's ever beat in your life. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you lied. Your throat was so dry it felt like you had cotton in your mouth.

"You might be able to lie to your mom, but you can't lie to me. You look like a scared little puppy," he smiled, scanning your body. "Nice dress."

"Thanks, it was my sister's."

"Well you look amazing in it," he turned the keys and you felt the seats rumble gently beneath you. You watched as Eunseok reached down to pull out a V-pen. He breathed in slowly before blowing out the sweet strawberry-scented vapor. "Here. Take this. It'll relax you," he said handing your the plug.

"Uhh...I'm okay. I don't smoke."

"Come on, just try it once. If you don't like it you can stop."

You hesitantly opened your mouth as he brought the device to your lips.

"Just suck it in slowly. Let it fill your lungs and don't try breathing out of your nose at the same time--" You began coughing aggressively, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Or that'll happen," he chuckled, before patting your back.

You looked at him through watery eyes as he reached to hand you a water bottle. "Don't worry, I didn't drink any of it yet."

"Thanks," you sniffed.

"So, what'd you think? D'you like it?"

"It tastes good, but to be honest I didn't notice much of a difference aside from coughing my brains out."

"Well, that one was kinda weak. Hold on. Imma give you something a little stronger," he smiled as he drove to a red light. "Look in the glove box and pull out that little red case," he directed you, pointing his finger at the glove box.

You sifted through the other miscellaneous objects before finding the red case. You placed it in his hand and watched as he pulled out another smoking device.

"Alright, I'm gonna go first and you just copy me okay?" he licked his lips before clasping them around the metal tip. "Just take a little bit first," he said after blowing out the cloud of smoke.

Remembering the mistake you made last time, you sucked in slowly.

"Woah, woah. That should be good enough," Eunseok chuckled as you inhaled the herby smoke.

You blew out the smoke, filling the car with the scent. You still coughed a bit, but it wasn't as bad as before. "That's weed, by the way," Eunseok smiled. "You should be feeling it in a bit."

He wasn't wrong either. You felt a sense of alertness wash over you.

"We're almost there," Eunseok said as he entered a subdivision before pulling up to a house shortly after. Cars were lined up the street, most likely belonging to the other partygoers. You could even hear the music blasting as you sat in the car with Eunseok.

This was the first time you finally noticed that Faith wasn't there. The amount of questionable decisions you were making in such a short time even shocked you.

You walked with Eunseok into to the lively house party hosted by Theo who greeted you at the door with Jell-O shots. "It's about time you got here, princess. We've been waiting for you," he smiled as he took down the cherry-flavored shot you rejected. "Did you get my message?"

"What message?" you asked.

"This one," he said, grabbing your hand to spin you around. "Wanna dance?"

"No, that's alright," you chuckled as he pouted playfully.

"Your loss. I'm a terrific dancer--"

"If by terrific you mean terrible then I'd definitely agree with you," Faith said cutting Theo off. "Hey girl, what do you think of the party? Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Well, we just got here a couple minutes ago."

"Yeah, and I was having a conversation with her until you came over here interrupting us," he poked her nose.

"Puh-lease. I'm sure she's glad I came over here to save her from your boring ass."

"Boring? Boring?! I'll show you whose boring."

"I'm already looking at you dummy," Faith playfully pushed Theo's shoulder. "If you really wanna dance then let's go," she giggled, leading Theo to a corner by the tip of his chin.

"Heh, later princess," he waved to you.

You watched as Theo grabbed Faith's hips. She swayed her hips, grinding her ass against him as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. A seductive smirk crept across her face as Theo turned her around to face him. He caressed her thigh as he lifted her leg, wrapping it around him. He slowly leaned into her lips, hanging centimeters away from her soft pink lips before she placed her finger on his lips.

"I thought we were just dancing," she beamed.

"Dancing and kissing?" he chuckled awkwardly.

"Uh uh. Man, these shots have you acting extra horny today huh?"

You shook your head, scanning the room for Eunseok. You couldn't believe you were staring at them for that long. You didn't see him anywhere in the kitchen so you went out into the hall to look for him somewhere else.

To be honest, if Faith wasn’t busy teasing Theo, you'd probably be hanging out with her right now. But, Eunseok wasn’t so bad. You actually enjoyed his company. 

Still feeling a bit fuzzy and lightheaded from the hit earlier you swayed through the partygoers, silently searching for a familiar face. You were more of a shy person, so engaging with random strangers wasn’t exactly at the top of your list. 

“Hey, ~” a dark-haired girl waved to you as she was being dragged off to a bedroom down the hall. “Wanna come have fun with us?” 

“No, that’s alright,” you smiled sheepishly. 

“Oh come on, baby. I’ll make it worth your while,” the boy said, releasing the other girl’s hand to run his nose against the skin on your neck. 

“I said, no,” you spat, pushing him away after he licked the exposed skin on your chest.

“Oh, you wanna play hard to get, huh?” He smirked devilishly as he pressed you against the wall. 

You struggled beneath his weight as you looked down to see that the girl had passed out on the floor. Knowing that this was going nowhere good, you swung your free hand to hit him straight in the mouth. 

“Argh!” He winced, licking the blood from the broken skin on his lower lip. “You little bitch! You’re gonna regret doing that,” he spat, grabbing your wrist, and twisting it slightly. You groaned at the burning pain travelling down your arm before kicking him between his legs which made him drop to the floor. 

While he was on his knees swearing and shouting out all of the horrible things he was gonna do to you, you shook the collapsed girl to try and wake her up. There was no way in hell you were gonna leave her in the hands of this monster. 

“Are we gonna play now?” She hummed. “Hmm, I’m sleepy. Can I stay here?” 

“No, come on. I gotta get you out of here,” you tugged at her arms. “No girl left behind.”

The boy must’ve been feeling better by the time you finally got her to stand as you felt a set of hands push you to the ground. He grabbed you by the ankles and started to drag you down the hall. 

Even though you kicked your legs in an attempt to fight him off, it was useless, he was much stronger than you and you didn’t stand a chance against him now. 

Dazed, but conscious enough to see what was going on, the dark-haired girl ran off. 

“Dammit,” you thought to yourself. Closing your eyes shut, you prepared yourself to just accept your fate. A set of footsteps ran up the hall toward you as you felt the boy drop your legs to the ground. 

“Ugh!” He groaned as you opened your eyes to see a beer bottle had been smashed against his head. 

You watched as Eunseok punched the boy in the face until blood came from his nose. His hair bounced at the force of every blow. You could tell he had broken his nose by the way his face had contorted. 

“Let’s go,” Eunseok said, looking at you still on the ground. He grabbed the boy by the shirt and proceeded to drag him to the front door. “Does your brother know you’re here?” He spat looking to the dark-haired girl who you assumed ran to get Eunseok. 

“I’m almost 18. I can make my own decisions,” she stuttered. 

“Right, and we see where that almost got you. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Eunseok said as he walked up to a dark-skinned guy. “Lance! Can you keep an eye on this fucker? The cops are already on their way for him.” Eunseok said as he abandoned the lunatic who tried to assault you and the other girl. “He was trying to make a move on Eunchae.”

“Sure, man. I’ll hold him until the cops get here,” the boy whom Eunseok called Lance smiled as Eunseok walked outside with you and the other girl. “Tell your brother I said hi,” he chuckled as you walked outside. 

“Get your ass in the backseat,” Eunseok spat as Eunchae folded her arms. “And put this on,” He said as he pulled off his oversized varsity jacket and draped it over her shoulders. 

“Wait! I forgot my phone,” Eunchae exclaimed as the car started up. 

“Too bad, I’ll have Theo hold onto it for you. We’re leaving,” Eunchae sat quietly in the backseat as you drove almost 30 minutes to a black and white apartment complex. 

Acting like a spoiled child, Eunchae refused to go up the stairs. You could see that Eunseok was more than fed up with her bullshit as he threw her over his shoulder and walked up the stairs to knock on the door. 

Eunseok, placed Eunchae on the doormat in front of him as he waited for the door to open.

“You’re not doing a very good job at babysitting her, Seunghan. Maybe you should send her back by your mom and dad,” he said as he poked her cheek. 

“Yeah, I might do that because she’s obviously not ready to be an adult yet—“

“No! Ugh! You never let me do anything,” she huffed as she stormed to her room.

“Thanks for bringing her back, bro. I thought she wasn’t feeling well because she went to bed early.”

“Eh, it’s alright. But you seriously need to keep an eye on her. Oh, and Theo has her phone. He’ll probably bring it over later.”

“Okay, it’s not like she needs it anyway,” Seunghan chuckled as he closed the door.

You followed Eunseok back to the car as he started it up again. 

“Sorry,” he said after taking a hit of the weed from earlier. “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t exactly the fairytale ending you were expecting,” he sighed.

"Well, it's definitely been interesting," you scoffed lightheartedly.

"Did you want to go back to the party or to my place? It's quieter there."

"Umm, wherever you want to go is fine with me."

You were hoping that he'd choose his place. Mainly because the party felt more like a freak show, a disaster waiting to happen.

"M'kay. My place it is," he said before pulling off.

He didn't live far from Seunghan so the drive was relatively short. You followed him up the stairs before entering his apartment which was uncomfortably cold.

You wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to contain some of the heat that was rapidly escaping your body.

"I would've offered you my jacket, but I already gave it to Eunchae," Eunseok said as he turned off the air.

"It's alright," you said sucking in your breath.

"C'mere," Eunseok whispered softly as he pulled you into his grasp.

Your cheeks burned hot as you felt the warmth from his body coupled with the feeling of his breath on your neck.

After a short silent moment, he turned your body to face him. He was met with a warm and submissive look on your face. A sense of innocence wrapped up by desire.

He leaned in to kiss your lips. Little did he know that this was your first kiss.

You freely allowed him to take the lead biting and sucking on your lips as he pulled your body closer to his. You quickly pulled away as you felt his bulge brush up against your core.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you eyes fell to the ground.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t—“

“No, I want to. It’s just that…”

“It’s just what?”

“I haven’t really done anything like this before.”

“Kissing or sex?”

“Both…”

“Oh…sorry, I didn’t know. I kinda just assumed you had done something.”

“There’s a lot that I haven’t done.”

“Well we can stop now if you want.”

“No, I want to keep going. Just take it slow with me.”

Eunseok led you to his room that was fairly empty. Nothing but a king-sized bed, a small night stand, and a laundry bin occupied the floor space.

You stood at the foot of his bed as he began kissing you again. Though this was your first kiss, you never expected it to feel so good. Again, you felt his hardness press against you, but this time you welcomed the sensation.

You felt his hands blindly move across your back stopping at the zipper before pulling it down. He pulled out of the kiss to slide your dress down before directing you to stand up and sit on his lap.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you felt a bit shy about being naked in front of someone.

He slid your panties down before he wrapped an arm around you. He reached his finger down to glide between your lips. The amount of wetness definitely wasn’t ready for his cock just yet, so he spit on his fingers before massaging your clit.

You jerked your body as he used his fingers on you. Gripping onto his arms, you threw your head back as he inserted one finger into your pussy. Your tightness gripped around his finger as you let out a soft moan.

He slowly pulled his finger back and forth grazing the flesh of your g-spot before picking up the pace.

You watched as he pulled his finger out completely covered in your wetness.

“Okay, what do you want to do first? We can go straight into sex or I can eat you out?”

“I wanna go straight into sex,” you replied as you stood up.

“M’kay. Let me go grab something first,” he said before leaving the room. You waited on his bed, playing with the wetness between your legs.

He came back shortly after and pulled down his pants to reveal his pulsing hard-on.

“I’m gonna put this on to make it easier for you,” he said as torn open the packaging that contained a dark blue condom. You watch as he slid it down his length before climbing onto the bed. “You’re gonna get on top okay,” he continued as you hesitantly straddled him.

You leaned forward to place your hands on his chest as he guided his cock to your opening. Slowly, he pulled you hips down gliding his lubricated dick deep inside of you. You whined as he broke through your hymen. A slight burning feeling filled your core.

“Mmm, fuck,” he groaned as he thrusted into your pussy. More swears left his lips before he came inside of the condom. You felt his warm seed fill you up as he laid there breathless.

“I didn’t expect you to be so fucking tight,” he groaned. “Alright, now you gotta suck the cum off so I can fuck you raw. That was my last rubber,” he sighed, fluffing his hair between his fingers.

He pulled the condom off before you went down to wrap your lips around him, sucking off the cum before gagging slightly on his length.

Once clean he bent you over on your hands and knees and plowed into your pussy as you came closer to your climax. He pulled out his cock to insert two of his digits into your gummy hole as you reached between your legs to rub your clit.

Breathless, moaning, and panting you came all over his fingers screaming out his name. He held you down and pushed in his cock to feel you pussy clench around him as you slowly came down from your high.

You collapsed on the bed from exhaustion and satisfaction as Eunseok stroked his length.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he sighed as he kissed your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you home before sunrise. Just get some rest for now,” he said as he saw your legs trembling from the orgasm.

This definitely wasn’t the night you were expecting, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy it.

You watched as Eunseok pulled his jeans up before stepping out on the balcony to smoke. Your eyes fluttered gently as you watched the puffs of smoke escape his lips. He ruffled his hair again before coming inside to join you in bed.

He guided your head to rest on his chest. The gentle hums relaxed you till you eventually fell asleep.

You don’t know what time you got in the car or what time he drove you home, but he made sure to bring you back before the sun came out.

Even though this had just happened the day before, you already couldn’t wait for your next opportunity to sneak out.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @addictedtohobi @chaenqen @nikisvanillaccola @mrswolfhard3 @hynjinnn1 @melobin @laylasbunbunny @urfavberry @swaggyjinnie @j4yluv @mimikittysblog @wonbinisbabygurl

#riize eunseok #eunseok #eunseok x reader #eunseok smut #riize fanfic #eunseok au #eunseok angst #corruption kink #tw religious themes #riize smut #riize imagines #eunseok scenarios #smoker x reader #eunseok hard hours #riize au #eunseok hard thoughts #corruption au #eunseok imagines #theo p1harmony #hong eunchae #hong seunghan

[haihaihaitani]

Happy Wife, Happy Life ~ *Shuji Hanma*

Summary: Shuji loves you so much he would do anything for you. And that means not bleeding on your freshly cleaned carpets.

Pairing: Shuji Hanma X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffyish Oneshot

Word Count: 1429

Warning: Swearing, mentions blood

Masterlist

When you first met Shuji, you fell in love hard and fast. He was wild, crazy, and completely free. He knew what he wanted and he wanted you. He treated you like you were the only girl in the world for him. And sure you may have catered to his every whim, but he paid you back in kind, making you feel loved and wanted. 

When he asked you to marry him a couple years later, there was no doubt in your mind regarding your decision. You said yes without the slightest hint of hesitation. It was an extravagant and beautiful affair, with all of Bonten in attendance. You said your vows a few feet off the floor and enjoyed the party of the century with the rest of your friends.

Now, you may not be the best wife in the world, you certainly did try. You were attentive and loving, doing everything in your power to make sure the days went by smoothly. It was easier said than done, considering how high up in Bonten Shuji was. He was either coming home bloody and bruised or he wasn't coming home at all. His temper and wild ways often got the better of him, and you found yourself having to pull him back from the edge too many times to count. Still, you wouldn't trade the life you built together for the world.

Gang life never scared you. In fact, you embraced it, if not for Shuji's sake, but also because you were both feared and respected. You took the role of a vice executive's wife very seriously. You made connections with other high ranking women in the underworld that served as useful links for Bonten. You even managed to get them a loophole with the police and judicial system, through subtle bribes of food and high class trinkets. In return for lending a helping hand with your charm, they gave you a hefty allowance to use for whatever you desired and protection from any and all enemies. You were truly living your best life.

Your pride and joy, besides Shuji, had to be your estate. When you both were pulling in over a million per payload, you asked Shuji to move out of the city. He agreed as long as the two of you still had a penthouse in case things became dicey and the estate needed to be forfeited. You also asked if you could be the one who built and decorated the place, which he also agreed to. Every step of creating the mansion of your dreams was carefully executed with excruciating detail. But you loved every second of it. The estate served as a physical monument of the life you and Shuji made for yourselves. It had to be perfect. And it was absolutely perfect in your eyes when you completed it. You were also more than pleased when Shuji told you how much he loved what you did with the place. The night you both moved in, each room was christened at the insistence of your husband, and who were you to deny him?

From then on, if you were doing work in the city, you were at the estate. Sure, Shuji hired staff to help with the upkeep, but you also pitched in to make sure everything was in tip top shape. At least once a week you hosted Bonten and their relations at the estate to show it off. You were truly proud of all the craftsmanship and love you poured into this estate and no one was going to ruin it or take it away from you.

One day, you were surveying a new shipment of furniture for the sunroom, as spring was almost here. Every other year, Shuji gave you a stipend to change out the furniture so you could keep up with the trends. It was at your insistence that you donated the old furniture, which took some convincing but he eventually conceded. As you helped move the last couch and end table into the sunroom, you heard the boisterous voice of your husband of five years bounce down the hall.

"Shuji? Are you home?" You called out to him.

"Doll! Where are you?" He yelled back. You rolled your eyes before finding him in the front room. 

You smiled and walked into his open arms. He peppered your face with questions as you said, "You're home early."

"Not really. I have to head out soon with the guys." It was then that you realized Sanzu, the Haitani brothers, and Hajime were standing behind him.

Flashing them a sweet smile, you nodded. "Hello boys. How have you been?"

"Honestly, we've been better." Ran scowled. "We got some punks who are encroaching on our territory and we're going to go teach them a lesson tonight."

You frowned at his words and pulled away from Shuji's relentless kisses. You fixed him with a harsh glare. "What do you mean you're going to teach them a lesson? Are you doing something you shouldn't tonight, Shuji?"

He winced as you used his name. "Ah, c'mon, doll. It's nothing that serious. We're just going to rough them up a little, remind them who they're messing with. It'll be a quick little operation. In and out. I'll be back before you're asleep and then the two of us can have a little fun tonight..."

You rolled your eyes and slapped his shoulder. "Leave the innuendos for when we're alone, got it?"

"Whatever you say, doll."

You then turned back to the other members of Bonten. "Is what my dear husband telling me true? Did Mikey order this little operation?"

Sanzu gave a wicked grin as he nodded. "Yep! It was on Mikey's orders that we carry this intimidation operation out. It's going to be so much fun! I haven't gotten to fight anyone in like forever!"

"You fought with some of the new hires last week." Rindou muttered.

"Yeah, but I had to hold back with them, or else they'd be no use to us. This time, I get to really let loose! And if someone dies, well, it's their fault for being so weak."

Your eyes widened and you ripped yourself out of Shuji's grasp, earning a pathetic whine from him. You pointed an accusing finger at him. "You are not going to murder anyone tonight! I just got the carpets clean! Plus I have new furniture in the sunroom! If any of you get so much as a speck of blood on anything in my house, I swear I will kill you all myself with your own guns and make it look like a suicide!"

Shuji didn't even flinch at your threat. Instead, he gave a wide, adoring grin. He glanced over his shoulders at the other members of Bonten. "Alright men, you heard the wife. No murder tonight."

"Ah what?" Sanzu whined. "But I really want to!"

He lazily shook his head. "Nope. Not tonight. Besides, I also don't want any blood in this house either. It's too messy and a bitch to clean up."

"You didn't seem that concerned two months ago." Hajime gave a smirk, knowing he said something that was going to get Shuji in trouble.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You harshly grabbed your husband's tie. "Did you get blood in my house when I wasn't here two weeks ago? I swear if you did-"

"Jeez woman." His smooth voice stopped you, as he continued to grin at you. "I thought you said to keep the innuendos for when we're alone. Keep this up and you're going to make me-"

You release his tie with a scowl. "You're disgusting."

"And you're sexy as hell when you're angry." He shook his head. "Oh, we are so having fun when I get home tonight."

You scoffed and folded your arms over your chest. You refused to show him how hot and bothered you were getting. "You have your mission from Mikey to carry out. You all should be heading out. Get out of my house and don't come back if you're all covered in blood."

"Will do, boss lady." Ran gave you a mock salute before ushering the other members out of the estate.

Shuji, on the other hand, lingered for a moment. He gave you a seductive wink. "Since I can't be covered in blood when I get back, I want you in that little red number I love when I get back."

"We'll see." You snapped, though you already knew what you were changing into when he left.

#Tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Revengers Fanfiction #Tokyo Revengers Oneshot #Anime #Anime Fanfiction #Anime Oneshot #Bonten #Shuji Hanma #Shuji Hanma X Reader #Shuji Hanma Fanfiction #Shuji Hanma Oneshot #Shuji Hanma Fluff #Shuji #Shuji X Reader #Shuji Fanfiction #Shuji Oneshot #Shuji Fluff #Married #Married AU #Oneshot #Fluff #Angst

[empressofthesunwriter]

Change the Narrative

If people knew the truth, they would call her a selfish monster.

But Katara had sacrificed anything for the world, for an ungrateful husband!

This time she would always choose herself first!

Here is a little one-shot of my anger about what happened to Katara in canon.

I want to give her the end she deserves, so I hope you enjoy it!

Katara knew it was time for her to die.

She felt it in her old bones.

Alone she lay in her bed at the South Pole and watched how the snow was falling.

At least she would die seeing the beauty of her homeland.

It was a good death.

The old woman blinked tears away and tried to be positive about her nearing death.

She would see Sokka, her father, her mother and Gran-Gran again.

It was good.

She had lived a long happy life.

Something burning and unsettling spread through her chest as she thought this.

Was it a happy life?

How often did she and Aang argue over simple things?

How often did she beg him not to play favourites with Tenzin? Yes, their youngest was an airbender, but what about Bumi and Kya? They were his children too.

But no!

The Air Nomad legacy was more important than their two oldest children and their pain.

Once upon a time when she was a young girl and fantasized about the man and family one day she would have, she never would have guessed how she became the kind of mother, who didn't fight for her children.

Who didn't call out her husband for his wrongdoings?

However, she had so with Aang. Since she had met him, she always had mothered him, shielded him from things which didn't fit his narrative.

He was the Avatar, the only hope to end the war, with a track record of running away.

They couldn't lose him, so she had protected him the best she could.

And she did so to her children.

No wonder Bumi and Kya didn't even visit her and Tenzin didn't have much of a relationship with her.

Where did she go wrong in her life?

When did she become a shadow of herself in the name of love?

Why did she even choose Aang?

Was it because of Aunt Wu's prediction, she would marry a powerful bender or because she had a feeling Aang...deserved her?

He loved her and had ended the war.

Was it so bad to give him a chance?

Sadly after sacrificing her best years for him and being rewarded to die alone without her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her, it may have been the most stupid decision she ever made.

Spirits, was she a bad person to think that?

She loved her family, really she did, but deep down she had to admit...she wouldn't do it a second time.

Katara wouldn't sacrifice herself, her ideals, and her dreams for Aang's dream.

She had her whole life given and given and was now at the end of it rewarded with nothing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she slowly closed her eyes.

Soon she would join her loved ones...

Just...

If she could...

If the spirits were so kind...

If dear Yue heard her...

She wanted a second chance.

She wanted to live a life for herself and herself alone.

Katara had given in this life all and more...was it so bad that she wished for a second chance to get it this time right?

Was she selfish?

Maybe.

Surely.

But anyone had a point in their life where they had to put themselves first.

Her only regret was that she did not realise it sooner.

Katara closed her eyes and felt the last beats of her heart.

Never noting how the moon was shining brightly down at her...

***

She felt pain in her head.

Katara hissed and touched her forehead.

Why did she get a headache?

Where was she?

She blinked to banish the shadows before her eyes.

Slowly she could see.

Ah yes.

She was outside General Iroh's tea shop in Ba Sing Se.

The waterbender had seen Aang walk out and wanted to join him.

It was high time that she gave Aang her answer about them being a couple.

She had been unsure a few days ago, but now with the war over...why shouldn't she give him a chance?

He was standing at the balustrade watching the setting sun, it was the perfect moment.

As the waterbender made her first step towards him, an avalanche of emotions and vision filled her whole being.

Katara gasped quietly, trying to make sense of this.

It was too fast and also too slow...however, she felt it in her bones...whatever she had planned kissing Aang and getting together with him...it would be the worst decision of her life!

No, she didn't want what she had seen.

How could she sell herself, her principals, and her honour for a guy?!

How could she be together with someone who would play favourites with their children?!

No, absolutely not!

Whether this was a vision from the future to save her from this faith Katara didn't know, but what she knew she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice!

So angry she walked up to Aang and tapped his shoulder.

The Avatar turned smiling towards her. He seemed so happy and hopeful and looked at her like she had hung the stars and the moon.

For a second she flatter, which only made the vision come forth again and made her anger tenfold.

Oh no!

Not with her!

"Aang.", she began. "I don't love you and I never will! Stop pestering me about us being a couple! If you don't accept my feelings I will waterwhip you do your next incarnation, do you understand me?!"

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. She could formally see the heartbreak in his eyes and how he tried to speak up, maybe to guilt trip her, however, she wasn't having anything of it.

"Nothing you will say and do will ever change my mind! So don't even try. I will go back with Sokka to the South Pole and rebuild my home. That's where I belong!"

Dramatically she turned around and entered the tea shop again.

The others tried their hardest to seem like they hadn't listened in, yet Katara saw through them.

She sends them all an annoyed look.

"What?!"

No one said anything for a few seconds before Toph snickered: "Oh sugar queen, I hoped you had it in you."

This makes Katara smile.

***

The next months of her life Katara rebuilt with her father and Sokka their home. 

The Nothern Watertribe had tried to turn the South into a second North, except Katara was having none of it.

As a war hero, master waterbender and daughter of the chief she used all her power to stop this chances.

She was a force of nature!

No one had a chance against her.

Her family was so proud of her and she was satisfied with herself.

Yes, this was where she belonged.

Helping people and not being the soulless, passionless arm candy of Aang!

Katara was happy.

A voice inside her told her how she deserved it.

***

A year later found Katara as ambassador for her people at the first peace summit.

She was happy seeing Zuko again, they had written to each other, yet seeing each other in person was much better.

He had become her best friend.

And her wall against Aang.

As Avatar he was at the peace summit too. Of course, he tried to talk with her. Tried to sway her, saying he missed her and wanted to be friends again.

She saw right through him. Aang still wanted her.

Thank the spirits for Zuko having her back and distracting Aang.

When they enjoyed together a cup of tea in General Iroh's tea shop she thanked him for his help.

Awkwardly he waved it away.

It was nothing.

He and Mai had broken up and the black-haired girl wasn't happy about it.

Even if she and Aang weren't exes, Zuko knew how frustrating it was to have a person follow you like a shadow and demand to be together again.

In comfort, she petted Zuko's hand and told him he did the right thing to end things with Mai.

If she couldn't accept a no was she a good girlfriend?

A little crooked smile formed on Zuko's lips, and her heart stopped for a second, as he thanked her for her words and friendships.

Then he asked her to join him in the search for his mother.

***

Being with Zuko on a life-changing field trip again was... exciting.

They still worked flawlessly together, like when they had hunted down the murder of her mother, but now they were friends.

It changed a lot of interactions.

They were playful with each other.

Zuko was the only one who ever laughed at her jokes.

They were there for each other.

In the long days when they hunted down one clue after another and Zuko seemed to lose hope, Katara reminded him to never give up.

They shared the workload.

It was amazing not mothering someone and having someone help her around camp.

They were getting closer to each other.

They shared things they never told anyone.

Zuko told her how he got his scar and Katara hugged him, wishing Aang had killed Ozai.

Wishing Ozai was before her and making him pay for hurting her best friend!

Sometimes they just stared at the stars, inventing constellations, their hands inching closer.

Something new was born between them.

Katara didn't know what it was, but she would enjoy it.

It made her feel good.

After weeks on the road, they finally found Ursa.

And also a society of hiding airbenders.

Katara couldn't help but laugh in utter glee.

***

Was it really that surprising that Katara and Zuko fell in love with each other after their journey?

When she kissed Zuko for the first time, it was like coming home. 

Warm, welcome, familair, intim.

It was the best sensation in the world.

Something inside her told her this was how it was supposed to be.

After two years of dating and being the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe in the Fire Nation, they married.

All their friends and half of the world were invited.

Yes, even Aang.

Aang was so grateful to Katara and Zuko for having found his people and was busy with the air nomads to rebuild their society, and seemed to finally let go of Katara.

Now they really could be friends.

***

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, master bender, war hero and Fire Lady became a living legend.

Not only the people in the Fire Nation adored her, but she used the power she wielded to make the whole world a better place.

She was the one who came up with the idea of Republic City, a place where all nations could live in harmony.

She revolutionized the art of healing with her bloodbending.

She installed fountains and aqueducts everywhere she could, so people had clean water.

Statues were built and universities, streets even neighbourhoods were named in her honour.

Katara taught new generations of waterbenders like her daughter Kya and people formally fought over to learn from the Fire Lady.

When their oldest daughter Izumi became Fire Lady, Katara and Zuko retired to Ember Island to live out their twilight years in peace.

They often had visits from their friends and families.

Their son Lu Ten, a nonbender, had married a waterbender named Mizuki and had with her five children.

So the proud grandparents helped their son and daughter-in-law raise the rascals.

It was fulfilling.

As Aang then died and was reborn as Korra from the Southern Water Tribe Katara and Zuko moved to the South to teach the new Avatar.

Korra loved Katara and Zuko like grandparents and loved hearing about their adventures.

After Korra goes to Republic City to learn airbending from one of Aang's sons he had with one of the hiding airbenders, the pair returns to Ember Island.

Zuko died a few months before her.

Katara followed him after the birth of their third great-grandchild.

Both died surrounded by their big and bustling family.

As Katara died, her oldest great-granddaughter, who was named after her held her hand, she couldn't help but feel happy.

She had lived a long and wonderful life.

Soon she would be together again with her beloved husband and her family.

And so the greatest and most beloved Fire Lady died in peace with no regrets in her heart, her story being told for thousands of years to come.

***

The Legend of Katara became a tale which young girls loved.

From a simple waterbender to a master, war hero and ruler over a nation, who changed the world only a few ever could.

It showed all girls, that they could do anything they wanted.

They could reach their goals and go even beyond.

This was Katara's legacy.

As it should have been.

If you liked this one-shot and want more Zutara, a badass OC, personal growth for Aang and the Gaang being amazing check out Yin and Yang! 

Click on my profile and leave a comment.

I hope you liked this little One-Shot!

Let’s now scream together in the comment section how Katara deserved better and if it’s not canon we will give it to her in fanon! :D

#katara #atla katara #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #atla zuko #prince zuko #atla zutara #zutara #zutarian #katara deserved better #zuko x katara #katara x zuko #zutara fanfiction #zutara fic #zutara forever #anti bryke #anti kataang #anti maiko #bryke critical

[black-butler-meta]

Analyzing Book of Circus: Sex, Attraction, and Physical Touch Are Simply Tools for Sebastian

There are two things we know for certain about Sebastian. One, he is a demon, and as such, isn't bound by silly things such as human morals and human standards of right and wrong. Two, he's hot as heck and everyone knows it. This is intentional, of course... it's a key part of his design and a big part of what makes him such a desirable character. It's a theme often found with dark supernatural characters (vampires, demons, werewolves, fae, etc.) and it's that call of temptation, exploration of sex and sexuality, looking taboo in the eye, and following that dark lure of danger that makes such characters so enticing for so many of us.

So, of course we see how this comes up and presents itself throughout Black Butler. Specifically, this post is looking at how Sebastian utilizes his attractiveness as well as physical touch to manipulate those around him.

So, first, let's look at how he seduces Beast and manipulates her to gain information. He manipulates Beast's loneliness and pain combined with her attraction towards him to sleep with her and get the name of "father." It was a few heavily spoken words, promising relief from the ache she felt, and choice hand placements. Gripping her wrist, a hand on her hip. But every moment of that entire scene, from the moment he approaches her to when they are in her tent, was him being calculating and emotionally barren. There was no kissing, hardly any face to face positioning. Even when he first comes onto her, he's behind her, with eye contact at a minimum. The parts that we do see of him touching her during the act are primarily when he's undressing and touching her prosthetic rather than her actual skin. Even the shadows on the wall are only of her and her reaction to what he's doing to her, symbolizing how he's really not "there" with her. He's removed entirely from the exchange, and he talks through the entire thing. It's just another work day for him.

It's not the first or last time that Sebastian uses his attractiveness and sex appeal to manipulate. There are other points throughout the series where it happens as well, and with good reason - his entire characterization is centered around his sex appeal. He's meant to be irresistible, attractive to the point of distraction, possessing an otherworldly beauty and air of mysterious allure that humans are particularly susceptible to. William describes him as much in Book of Circus. He's a predator specifically designed to lure his prey into a false sense of security before striking, and his prey are humans. It doesn't matter their age, gender, sex, or race. Souls are souls, and they are made for devouring.

Which brings us to the PTSD scene where Ciel is having a full on panic attack/mental breakdown, drool and all. Sebastian is very close to him, grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and the entire vibe of it is uncomfortable due to how close and intimate it feels, all while Ciel is suffering and Sebastian is looking and nefariously seductive. Every action and angle of him in that scene is sensual and intimate (his finger swiping Ciel's lip, untying Ciel's eyepatch, etc.), while Ciel is obviously not. His eyes are closed, his face contorted in misery, drool/vomit down his chin… this moment is about his suffering. In fact, he hardly registers the way Sebastian is touching him, which makes this scene verge on noncon; after all, how would Ciel react to having his lips touched if he wasn't in the middle of a panic attack? It's this crossroad of Sebastian's predatory sex appeal and Ciel's trauma that makes this scene so uncomfortable. This is exacerbated even more so by the fact that Ciel is a child which is made even more obvious during this scene. Ciel is having flashbacks of his trauma from years prior, when he was younger and smaller, and he is pleading for Sebastian in the way a child may call for their parent during a nightmare. Ciel in that moment wasn't "13 year old going on 30" as he often portrays himself. He was a small little boy, once again trapped in his cage.

Meanwhile, Sebastian is simply relishing in Ciel's suffering and seizes the opportunity to change the power dynamic between them. Ciel may be his master, but Sebastian is the one pulling the strings in this moment. Sebastian's gentle, his voice is smooth, his touch is soothing. He holds his outstretched hand, wrapping his arms around him. He fills up Ciel's vision, making him focus on the demon's physical presence rather than the horror that's unfolding. And Ciel allows it, even the touching of his lips, unaware of the boundary it's crossing because he's literally in the middle of a panic attack and needs to be saved. It's manipulation, plain and simple; Sebastian is fostering codependency as a tool to further corrupt the soul he will eventually get to devour. He's using this close proximity and intimate contact to push Ciel to call on his demon and slaughter everyone. Sebastian may be the sword, but Ciel is the hand, and in the end, this act of violence falls on him. In the end, it's his soul that suffers, which is just how Sebastian wants it to be.

Even the touch of Ciel's lips is a predatory one; it may seem to drip with sexually charged energy, especially since the lips are an erogenous zone (imagine if he did that to an adult… tell me that wouldn't immediately seem sexual); however, this sexual presence is largely in part to that just being a part of Who Sebastian Is. As stated before, that allure is a part of his design as a hunter, so of course it will be the strongest/most noticeable when occurring in the presence of human weakness.

The way he draws his thumb along his lip is like checking the ripeness of fruit. The way he stares down at him is like a chef checking a pot of stew simmering on the stove. It's almost as if he can smell the corruption brewing through Ciel's open mouth. (Also, I'd bet money that the soul is "removed" from the body through the mouth, as this was also implied at the end of season 1, even though that episode wasn’t technically canon). This doesn't really surprise me, because creatures of the night devouring their victims through physically intimate situations is a pretty common theme (e.g., vampires biting necks/thighs). It all ties into Sebastian's dark nature. Once again, it's intended to be uncomfortable.

And once he gets Sebastian's permission, the discomfort of the scene immediately ends, Sebastian’s predatory sex appeal is muted (but still present - always present). Ciel is carried in Sebastian's arms like a child being carried off to bed while Sebastian slaughters everyone. Sebastian's manipulation worked; his food gave into the rage and Sebastian gets to kill for him, thus bringing him closer to completing his contract.

Contrast this with the times when Sebastian is not trying to manipulate Ciel, and his touches are far more tame and appropriate. Wiping the water off of Ciel’s body, feeling his forehead for a fever, etc. It’s usually when he’s fulfilling his butler duties, or when Ciel’s life is in danger, that he almost forgets his predatory nature and behaves almost normally. Perhaps it’s through these gentler, everyday interactions that helps Sebastian gradually grow an attachment to his young master. He still sees him as food, but less predator/prey and more farmer and his livestock, a steward for a broken soul until it’s ready for slaughter. But I feel like if there’s any chance of Sebastian growing beyond his demon nature, it’ll be through these mundane but meaningful moments.

#black butler analysis #black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #book of circus

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

Helpless part 40, It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us

"Neeks, you awake?"

"What time is it?" The Hades child mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face.

"11:24."

"How the fuck am I still tired?"

"Because you still need to catch up on sleep and you're off drugs medical and others after a while so you're still adjusting."

"I'll be honest I didn't process half of that." Will rolled his eyes teasingly, walking over to mess up his hair more than it already was. Will started to look through some files he'd brought in with himself as Nico started to get ready,

"Can I braid your hair?"

"You know how to braid?"

"Not very well, but Kayla made me learn a few years ago before she had to let Aussi cut her hair on a dare."

"I can imagine how well that went, but sure." Will sat next to him, brushing out and parting his hair before starting to do a french braid. "Do you have the second volume of Heartstopper?" Will laughed, quickly kissing Nico on the cheek.

"I can't believe I thought you were straight but yes, I have all the books."

"I can't believe I thought you were straight."

"Think you were the only one Neeks."

"Oh shut up Solace."

"Don't think I will di Angelo."

"Gods save me."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Nothing." He answered almost instantly,

"Not an option."

"I'm not hungry." He promptly ignored him and pulled out three ceral bars from his pocket,

"Pick one."

"Leave me alone."

"Do you feel sick?"

"I- I- just... can't, drop it William."

"I'll leave them here, just eat when you can, alright?" He said, half hugging him.

"Fine."

"Nico, have you considered talking to someone? Maybe keeping a journal as well?"

"Only if you'll also get help." He couldn't think of something he wanted to do less but Will needed help, desperately.

"It's not your job to worry about me."

"Will, I'm your boyfriend, it really is."

"Are you comfortable with the idea of talking to someone?" He was fine, he knew he was worthless what's the point of lying to himself.

"N-no." Fuck, this wasn't going the way he hoped.

"Nico, you don't need to do anything that you aren't comfortable with, that won't help. Also... I'm sorry about last night.. I- it's- yeah I'm just sorry."

"Will, no one's perfect, you need help, please, just try to."

"Neeks, I'm fine, really. I was just shocked last night and yeah, there have been a lot of people in the infirmary because of the war normally it's just less hectic." Lying through his teeth, he hated himself for it but that's fine, just another thing to add to the endless list. He wasn't Nico's responsibility, he doesn't need anything else on his mind.

"Just, take a break every now and then, I swear you're always working."

"Actually Kayla's ban me from working for the rest of the week soooooo."

"Good, you need it. Wait does that mean I don't get to see you for a week?"

"Nope, you can't get rid of me that easily. Apparently I'm too much of a simp for that, but I have a feeling she's timing it to make sure I don't spend the whole day here."

"I can see that happening, but you need a break so she is completely right."

"I really hate you sometimes di Anglo."

"I know." He whispers, blowing the son of Apollo a kiss.

"Solace, times up!"

"Better go Sunshine, also... I'll try journaling, I don't know if it'll help but I'll try."

"I'm proud of you Neeks," He ruffled his hair before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he kissed him back, wrapping his hands around his neck."I'll see you soon."

***

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson fandom #nico di angelo #pjo #fanfic #will solace #solangelo #annabeth chase #fanfiction #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fan fiction #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfiction #percyjackson #fan fic writing #fan fic #fan fiction #solangelo fic #my fic #fic writing #solangelo fanfic #solangelo fanfiction #gay #leo valdez #reyna avila ramirez arellano #jason grace #piper mclean #frank zhang #hazel levesque

[cottagecoreismysaltlick]

Arlecchino’s story quest just revealed how old Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet are. (Spoiler kinda)

Tl;Dr: late 20s

“I wish Genshin would give us solid numbers for character ages!” Sometimes they do. And those numbers give us ages of other characters too, if you pay attention. And yeah, I know the Genshin community doesn’t like to read, but you don’t even have to do much reading for this.

And let me preface this. When you go through this much work to “justify” characters being adults some people will say it’s just “an excuse to sexualize minors”. No. This isn’t even about that.

This is about me being absolutely sick and tired with the teenagers with careers trope.

First of all, what we know:

Childe is the YOUNGEST of the Fatui Harbingers.

Childe woke up the whale when he was 14 years old, and that was 20 years ago. He is 34 years old.

Arlecchino became the Knave at 17 years old.

The Hearth siblings came to the house within a few months of Arlecchino gaining control.

Lyney and Lynette met a magician named Caesar who over 10 days, helped them hone their stage magic skills

Caesar died 10 years ago.

Toddlers can’t do street magic.

Honestly the last couple of points aren’t even needed, but they’re helpful to solidify this number. You’ll see.

Let’s do some basic Arlecchino math first.

Again, she’s canonically older than 34, but if you want her and the siblings to be as young as absolutely possible, we can start there. (Maybe she’s a few months older than Childe. Idk)

34-17=17

Absolute bare minimum, Arlecchino has been the knave, and the siblings have been in the house for 17 years.

And quite frankly, I don’t think the “kids” were embryos when they joined.

But now that we have a minimum, let’s get a maximum to cover our bases. I’m going to use the serial disappearances as a marker here, because given what we know about her she would definitely look into that sort of thing. So she can’t be much older than 37.

So, when did the siblings join the house?

First of all, let’s get a few facts from earlier involved. Cesar died 10 years ago. That means he died while they had already been in the house for 7-10 years (depending on Arlecchino’s age.)

And a widely overlooked fact that personally I think needs to be taken into account more often, is that TODDLERS CANT DO STREET MAGIC.

But I get it, this is an anime game. And for some crazy reason some fans are convinced that characters should be as young as they can possibly be.

So let’s be just, the most generous that I could possibly be here and say those kids right there are 6 years old (anime 6 year olds don’t act like real 6 year olds so I’ll give you that), and it’s been an EVENTFUL couple of months worth of mastering street magic, trauma, and joining the House of the Hearth.

6+7=13 13+10=23

So the absolute bare minimum you are being silly at this point age for the siblings is 23, and depending on how old you think Arlecchino is, up to 26.

Personally, I feel like Freminet can help us out here, but we’ll have to apply just a teensy tiny bit of real world logic if we want to get anywhere. So,

How old was Freminet when he was sent to the house?

Freminet was very close with his mother, he was incredibly skilled at fixing and building things, to the point where he would help bring in money for the family for a few years before he was dropped off at the house with the old Knave where he’d notice other children with depression who he’d seen kill themselves.

Now I ask you, does that sound like a toddler? If you’re going to look me in my eyes and try saying he was sent to the house at 5 or 6, when the earliest of memories are being DEVELOPED, you’re not just silly, you are high. There’s really only so much disbelief I can suspend here.

Let’s be generous and say he was 8 years old. You can still have your over developed anime 6 year old, but at least it gives a few years for him to have been tinkering and making happy little memories before the trauma.

Again, using the youngest possible Arlecchino age,

8+17=25

So baby brother Freminet is bare minimum 25 years old.

In conclusion, let’s use those concrete numbers here to make an age range for the House of Hearth siblings. (I could absolutely give you my personal head canon timeline, yes. Will I? Maybe if you ask nice. But this is about cold hard numbers)

You’re absolutely fucking kidding yourself here ages: 22 for Freminet and 23 for the twins.

Low end: 25 for Freminet and 26 for the twins.

Reasonable maximum (the oldest I think they could be in the flashback is 13) 32 for Freminet and 33 for the twins!!

#genshin impact #lyney and lynette #lyney #lynette #freminet #house of the hearth

[rapeculturerealities]

Urged by Cortez Masto, CVS and Walgreens begin dispensing abortion pill in Nevada - The Nevada Independent

Almost a year after major pharmacy chains began waffling at the prospect of filling mifepristone prescriptions, Walgreens and CVS began dispensing the abortion pill in Nevada during the last few weeks.

The decision comes after a concentrated push by Sen. Catherine Cortez Masto (D-NV), who called on the chains to follow through with Food & Drug Administration (FDA) guidance updates finalized in 2023 allowing mifepristone to be dispensed and sold at pharmacies.

Now the most common means of terminating a pregnancy, mifepristone is the first of a two-pill drug regimen that patients can take within the first 10 weeks of pregnancy. The pro-abortion rights Guttmacher Institute estimates that medication is now used for more than half (54 percent) of all abortions.

Mifepristone is available in Nevada via mail or at clinics, but abortion rights advocates say the pharmacy option will make access as simple as patients visiting their regular doctor’s office (which often are not certified to stock the abortion pill), obtaining a prescription and then picking it up at their local pharmacy.

#nevada #abortion #abortion pill #mifepristone #Misoprostol

[cherrysnax]

as someone who has to draw everyday, or else I forget how to draw, repetitive strain injuries are bound to happen but damn I didn’t know long it was gonna take to heal 😭 I have to take like a 2-3 week hiatus and if it doesn’t get better after that I have to take a few months off which makes me so nervous n upset

#I took yesterday off cause #valentines day #and the day before because I couldn’t feel my arms shoulders or hands #but aside from that it’s been go time for uh #more often than not for the last few years #even with art block #so I haven’t really gotten a break #like recently I’ve been doing the uhhh pomodoro method kinda #and I’ve been doing a lot of stretches but I have maybe been overstretching #but yeahh idk. it’s going to. #be so hard to come back after weeks or potential months and it’s stressing me out which when I’m stressed it physically hurts my nerves and #joints so I’m in double pain. art has been making me suicidal as well and not like passively so it’s good to take a break but I don’t know #how to. because it’s just resting. I hate not being productive but I’m in so much pain and I want to make art but my art has gone to like a #first grade skill level :( I can’t even hold a pencil anymore #but yeah :( hiatus time

[brother-emperors]

I see your dog-coded Agrippa and Cassius, but what about Crassus ? Kind of like feral dog coded

for me, Crassus skips the dog coding allegations on account of no one being able to put a leash on him, and there's no person he seems to be singularly devoted to in a way that dictates his actions

Dating The Praetorship of Marcus Licinius Crassus, Martin Stone

like, there's Sulla, but Crassus also did a lot of that of his own accord, and Sulla shut the door on him politically so Crassus climbed in through a window and worked a different aspect of Roman society-politics with magnificent skill. he ALSO skips the dog allegations because if anyone is bringing someone to heel, it's Crassus doing it to other people. there isn't a specific person that Crassus' actions can be dedicated to in a way that makes me think of a dog the way Agrippa's actions for Octavian do.

I also don't think he's feral! what he is: really fucking ruthless, or has the potential for ruthlessness, which isn't the same thing to me as being feral. and being ruthless is not uncommon for Late Republic politics

Lucullus: A Life, Arthur Keavney

but its that pivot point between being firm, ruthless, and likeable that makes him interesting. he's actually. he's--

okay, so in my mind, he's Machiavelli Prince coded. there are only two Romans I have ever made a compare and contrast analysis using Machiavelli's Il Principe, one is Augustus, the other is Crassus. and for once my connect the dots of thematic tomfoolery has something I can cite, someone ELSE has also made a comparison to Augustus

Dating The Praetorship of Marcus Licinius Crassus, Martin Stone

#anyone here watch devil judge. crassus is like. more yo-han coded to me. in terms of themes and ruthlessness #you try to put him down at your own risk. with crassus tho its like. no roman could do it so ofc he had to meet his end outside of rome #...on the other hand. i respect yo-han and what he's doing as a whole. you guys ever watch yakuza films? crassus would fit in #SO well as a character in a yakuza film. or a 90s HK gangster narrative #if this was a filipino drama i'd want jake cuenca to play him #i also dont know if i'd call cassius dog coded. he really only comes to heel for brutus during the last few years of their shared lives #he is definitively gladiator coded to brutus' statesman tho #i dont often look at characters/figures and go 'oh. dog for sure.' but when i do its like. oh wow okay guys #like octavius wanting to die with crassus? not dog coded. that's just. devoted. devotion. that's love. that's grief. loyalty. #there's no greater love than to lay down one's life for a friend. there's no greater devotion than to die with your general #ask tag