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stillwintering · 1 month

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All's Fair in Love and Politics (a modern Nessian AU - where Rhys is running for president)

Summary: In the ruthless arena of politics, victory demands risking everything, even one's own heart. Rhysand has his eyes on the presidency. Feyre convinces her estranged sister, Nesta, to join the political campaign. Nesta and Cassian find themselves forging an unexpected bond as the campaign intensifies. But can their budding romance survive the treacherous waters of modern political warfare?

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Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

Chapter 9

One run became two. Then, before she knew it, Nesta found herself training with Cassian three times a week. Even when they returned to DC, they continued to run together.

They fell into a natural routine, meeting up after their workday at a major landmark on the National Mall, like the Lincoln Memorial or the Washington Monument. Cassian, evidently a seasoned runner, would lead her on beautiful routes around the Potomac. Although Nesta had spent many years in DC, she had never taken the opportunity to visit any of its cultural sights.

"The Lincoln Memorial is best viewed early in the morning, at first light," Cassian had remarked once when they met at the white granite steps to begin their run. He knew full well that Nesta wasn't the type to rise at such an ungodly hour for exercise.

"Dusk will have to suffice for us," he had said with a wink.

Nesta soon discovered that Cassian maintained a rigorous schedule, rising each day at 4:30 am -- a vestige of his years in the army, he told her. She quickly grew to appreciate the fierce discipline beneath the easygoing demeanor with which Cassian approached his work and life.

"Old habits die hard," he had confessed with a small smile.

Nesta surprised herself by how much she looked forward to her sessions with Cassian. He had been an excellent coach, helping to correct her running form and improving her strength training. She liked Cassian's carefree laugh and how he constantly challenged her to be a little faster and stronger during each workout.

Despite spending entire workdays together -- except when campaign commitments called him away to the early-voting states -- Nesta never felt overwhelmed by his company.

She was seeing a lot of Cassian. But she couldn't bring herself to mind.

As spring gave way to summer in Washington, Azriel joined the two of them on their evening workouts. Azriel's presence was a stark contrast to Cassian's boisterous energy.

Where Cassian was fire, Azriel was water -- quiet, steady, an intensity that lay beneath the surface.

In the sticky heat of DC summers, Cassian and Azriel often completed their runs without a shirt. The appreciative looks and naked ogling from passersby had not escaped Nesta's notice. She had caught many women (and some men) staring slack-jawed at their beautiful forms.

But she had been surprised the first time -- a rainy, humid June evening -- when she saw that they bore complimentary tattoos, intricate black patterns swirling across their chests and backs. She didn't think that it was appropriate to inquire after their provenance.

It was clear that Cassian and Azriel considered each other to be true brothers in everything but blood. And like bickering siblings, they brought out a vicious competitiveness in each other.

There were numerous occasions where Nesta found herself stepping aside so that the two men could engage in additional physical trials as a means to settle scores that only they seemed to keep track of.

Sometimes, Cassian and Azriel would spontaneously challenge each other to sprint races to some designated landmark. Other times, they would engage in impromptu strength contests, seeing who could complete the most burpees or hold the longest plank, with Nesta often roped in as the reluctant judge.

Once in July, the competitive edge between Cassian and Azriel escalated beyond mere athletic feats and into outright hand-to-hand combat. At the end of their official 8-mile route, Cassian and Azriel had challenged each other to a sprint towards a secluded patch of forest by the Tidal Basin, leaving Nesta to catch up to them.

By the time she found them again, they were circling each other with lethal intensity, ready to strike. It was as if all that crude competitive energy between them had finally boiled over.

Cassian eyes flickered to Nesta, marking her arrival to their patch of the forest. Azriel, taking the opening, struck first, his fist launching towards Cassian, who blocked quickly. Nesta observed the ensuing sparring session with a mix of horror and carnal fascination. It was as if their bodies spoke a language of their own, a dialogue of feints and parries, blocks and counters.

It was clear that they'd sparred before, and Nesta wondered whether this was another vestige of their shared military days.

The sight of Cassian's beautiful, muscled body, taut and rippling with every forceful movement, stirred something primal within her. His physical dominance was undeniable. It was like witnessing a live sculpture in motion, each muscle group defining itself with remarkable clarity under his sweat-slicked, golden skin, igniting an urgent warmth in Nesta's core.

Azriel, with his lithe, agile form, displayed a different kind of power. His movements were liquid poetry, each twist and turn highlighting the lean, sinewy muscles beneath his tanned skin. The grace and precision with which he moved were tantalizing, a seductive dance that drew Nesta's eyes to the swell of his back muscles, the curve of his biceps, and the hardness of his abdomen.

Finally, Azriel executed a swift, well-timed strike that connected solidly with the right side of Cassian's face. Cassian staggered back slightly, momentarily dazed, and then raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay," Cassian chuckled, rubbing his jaw where Azriel's blow had landed. "You got me, Az."

Azriel, however, didn't relax his guard. His attention remained sharply focused on Cassian, his body still coiled and ready. "No appetite for a knockout today?" he asked, challenge lacing his voice.

"A knockout? You wish," Cassian answered, playful. "You're in top form today -- I'll give you that."

Azriel's stance finally loosened. The corners of his mouth turned up in a satisfied smile. "Someone has to keep you on your toes, Cass."

Nesta folded her arms across her chest. "Really, you two?" Nesta admonished, her gaze shifting between Cassian and Azriel, still squared off against each other. "Has no one taught you to use your words first before resorting to violence?"

Cassian looked over Azriel's shoulder to where Nesta stood. "Az, here, never got over the fact that I beat his rucking record during basic training," he teased.

Azriel turned while rolling his eyes. "By three minutes," he reminded him drily.

"Rucking?" Nesta asked.

"It's a timed test used by the Army to assess physical fitness," Cassian replied. "Twelve miles in unforgiving conditions while carrying a 45-pound rucksack, along with your standard equipment and rifle."

Nesta arched a brow. "Dare I ask where the record stands?"

"One hour and 28 minutes," Azriel supplied.

Nesta couldn't help but give Cassian an assessing once-over. He flashed her a cocksure grin, loving how her eyes traveled up and down his body. She immediately felt her cheeks flush.

"Don't encourage him, Nesta," Azriel smiled, too aware, "My brother's ego is large enough as it is. It'll be unbearable for all of us if it gets any bigger."

Nesta forced out a frown, self-conscious. But she couldn't tell if she was embarrassed by their brutish behavior or by how she was caught blatantly gawking at Cassian's muscled chest.

"Next time you two feel the urge to engage in a childish, testosterone-fueled pissing contest," she said disapprovingly, face still red, "Please leave me out of it."

Cassian swung an arm over Azriel's shoulders, pulling him into an affectionate side hug. Azriel had visibly relaxed against Cassian -- whatever score between them settled.

"Don't worry, Nes," Cassian laughed, a deep rumble. "Next time, Az won't be getting the better of me."

Azriel knocked against Cassian's shoulder in displeasure, but his eyes were mirthful. "Are you saying you want to go for a second round already?"

Cassian eyed his brother with a wicked glint. "We can move this to a boxing ring."

Azriel took a beat to consider. "Name the time and place."

Nesta shook her head sternly. "I'm going home," she announced.

Sparing one last look at the two half-naked men, Nesta tamped down the flutter in her stomach as she walked away, suddenly feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

---

Thankfully, Amren did not assign Nesta to join Cassian on his frequent trips to field offices across all the early voting states. Now that the Iowa offices were up and running under Baz's leadership, Cassian shifted his energy to New Hampshire, South Carolina, and Michigan. But Nesta remained Cassian's primary partner on most projects. While he traveled, she stayed in DC to work on media strategy, messaging, and provided logistical support. They were constantly together or constantly on the phone with each other. She would have been annoyed to depend so heavily on a colleague, but she found Cassian to be resourceful and frustratingly competent.

Nesta was also thankful that Amren refrained from putting her on projects that required her presence in Velaris at the home office. Azriel had been charged with that particular assignment.

Feyre was in and out of DC all summer, primarily to accompany Rhys to important fundraisers. Nesta resolved to build a firewall between her work and personal lives. So, she made a point of keeping her interactions with Feyre purely professional. The last thing she needed was to lose focus when the big political battles were looming ahead.

Sometime during the summer, Nesta decided that she loved her job -- campaigning suited her. She found a profound sense of purpose in shaping Starborn's policies and moving the debate among the candidates. Now that Sean Hybern was the Republican frontrunner in all but name, Nesta felt an exigency in what they were doing that she had never felt before: she was willing to do everything in her power to ensure Hybern didn't win the presidency.

She could tell Cassian was also driven by the same fear. Occasionally, she would catch glimpses of a burning intensity in his eyes while he was in the middle of some task, whether it was on a conference call with the field offices where he would direct their operations with canny efficiency, or it was in the heat of a brutal discussion with Rhys and Amren over campaign priorities. It was the same deadly intent she saw when Cassian and Azriel sparred.

And Nesta wondered what it would be like to have all that military-honed lethality trained on her. It gave her goosebumps.

Every now and again, she could feel that he was watching her in the office. But whenever she caught his eyes, that burning intensity immediately dissipated into something softer and yielding towards her.

It felt like a mask. Like he, too, had a firewall.

---

Like their evening runs, Nesta and Cassian fell into an easy routine at the office.

"So, the Iowa State Fair," Nesta came to sit on the edge of Cassian's desk one late July afternoon. She had been going over the list of Rhys's campaign appearances for August. The Des Moines Register hosted a Political Soapbox event for all presidential hopefuls at the Iowa State Fair -- it was an essential campaign event. Nesta had been helping Rhys hone his interview answers for weeks.

Cassian looked up from his laptop. "What about it?"

"You're not going with Rhys?"

He cocked his head. "No, I have to be in Michigan that weekend."

Nesta smiled coyly. "I just thought that..." she bit her bottom lip in the way she knew would get his attention. "That was the sort of thing that you enjoyed. The reason you liked traveling for the campaign so much."

After all this time spent together, Nesta had finally mastered the art of their repartee. She learned the contours of Cassian's humor, the tempos of his day, and most importantly, the buttons she could press to elicit a reaction.

"What?" He looked dazedly at her face, gaze lingering on her lips.

"Don't you want to see the butter cow?"

Cassian snorted. "Do you want to see the butter cow?"

"You understand it's a life-size cow made entirely of butter," Nesta replied seriously.

He shifted back in his chair. "I'm not going," he said again. "But you are welcome to go and see the butter cow yourself, Nes."

"There's also a butter Elvis and a butter Last Supper which has, I swear to God, Cassian --"

"Butter on the table?" he provided with a wide grin, falling into the rhythm of their now familiar banter.

"It's got butter on the table right there between butter James and butter Peter." She widened her eyes for effect and then leaned toward him so that she was only a few inches from his face. "It's an almost mind-blowing vortex of art and material that dares the viewer to recall Marcel Duchamp," she finished breathlessly.

She watched Cassian swallow. He often became slightly flustered when she entered his personal space unexpectedly. She waited for him to recover.

Up close, she could almost make out all the golden flecks in the hazel of his eyes -- a glimpse of that burning intensity peeking through.

"How do they keep it from melting?" he asked after a beat too long. His expression shuttered, eyes guarded again.

Satisfied, she pulled back. "How, indeed," she said with a wink and returned to her desk.

---

Rhysand's summer calendar was a tightly packed itinerary of political fundraisers from the East to the West Coast. Nesta knew it was essential for candidates to amass the financial resources necessary for the upcoming primary season. But the process troubled her, how much politicians depended on their donors.

When Nesta was still reporting, she was never allowed to attend a high-level fundraiser; they were strictly closed to the press. Now, in her senior role on the Starborn campaign, she had been fielding invitations to various breakfasts, lunches, and dinners around the DC area. She was finally given a look behind the proverbial curtain, and she wasn't sure she liked what she found.

The beginning of August marked Keir Hewn's summer fundraiser for the Democratic National Committee, a blockbuster event among the Beltway elites. With all the high rollers invited, the party was expected to raise millions in one night. Nesta reluctantly agreed to go along with the rest of the senior staff, even though these events always left her feeling greasy afterward.

The sprawling grounds of the Hewn Mansion had been transformed into a spectacle designed to dazzle the crème de la crème of political society for the evening. Fairy lights wove through the foliage and above the walkways, creating an illusion of a starlit canopy that mirrored the clear night sky. A candle-lit path led guests through the manicured lawn to a series of outdoor gazeboes. The large flagstone terrace was set with tables dressed in blue and silver linens, the DNC's colors, with centerpieces of lilies and roses.

Nesta slipped into the garden from the North entrance, careful to avoid crowds gathered near the mansion doors. She remembered the layout of the grounds well from the spring charity gala.

After taking a lap around the terrace, she found Mor and Azriel by the bar.

"Nesta, you must tell me where you found your dress!" Mor exclaimed as soon as she was close enough.

"My friend owns a boutique in Alexandria," Nesta replied, allowing Mor to pull her in for a kiss on the cheek. "I can send you the address. She'd love to dress you."

"Please do," Mor said. "This fabric is absolutely divine!" Mor ran a hand down Nesta's side, feeling the soft grey silk of her gown. She clearly had a lot to drink already. Mor was partial to red for formal events, and Nesta was sure that tonight's red tulle number was made of a material far more luxurious than her own.

Azriel handed Nesta a glass of wine. "Chenin Blanc," he said and leaned in for a kiss as well. "If I recall correctly."

They've attended enough open bar events together now that Azriel knew her preferred drink orders. "Thank you," she smiled.

Taking a sip, Nesta surveyed the assembled guests from the rim of her glass. It seemed like the entire higher echelon of the Democratic Party was in attendance. She spotted Rhys and Feyre on the lawn speaking with the House Whip and Senate Minority Leader. Closer to them on the terrace, Thesan Morgenstern was huddled with Keir Hewn, Speaker Beron, and, from the expensive cut of the fourth man's suit, a high-dollar donor.

Mor sniffed. "Don't worry," she said, following Nesta's gaze. "My father holds another fundraiser in September for the GOP. We Hewns are, if anything, equal opportunity lobbyists."

"Is your father backing Thesan for the Democratic nomination?" Nesta asked.

Mor frowned, picking up another glass of red wine from a waiter. "My father hasn't made a decision yet," she replied, voice low. "My father would never bet on only the favorite when it is possible to bet on all the contenders. He will guarantee that the winner be indebted to him in some way or other."

"No family loyalty?" Nesta arched a brow.

Mor laughed. "It's business," she said simply. "Now, what do you say that we go find Cassian and see about turning this snoozefest around?"

Mor linked her arms between Nesta and Azriel and pulled them towards the candle-lit lawn.

---

Cassian was talking to a bald man Nesta didn't recognize beneath a sprawling elm tree just below the terrace. The soft illumination from the lights weaving through the branches highlighted the perfect angles of his face as he spoke. The other man was older and seemed intensely interested in whatever Cassian said, but their conversation seemed stilted.

Cassian had been gone for campaign business for the last week, and it was already as if she were seeing him for the first time. When their eyes met, everything around them seemed to fade, and the chatter and laughter in the air became muted hums. Cassian shook the man's hand goodbye without looking at him, his attention solely on Nesta as she walked up to where he was standing.

She drank in every inch of him: his broad shoulders, his dark hair styled just so, and the unyielding strength in his posture. Her heart thrummed a frantic rhythm against her ribs; it had been doing that a lot in his presence this summer.

Cassian wrapped Mor into a brief hug, moving as if on autopilot; his eyes remained focused on Nesta the whole time. Mor returned to her conversation with Azriel. Cassian remained still as a statue.

"Nesta Archeron," he finally breathed, voice low and husky. "You are lovely."

A blush crept up her cheeks, her usual retort dying on her lips. Instead, she allowed herself to luxuriate in the burning intensity of his gaze. He felt like a vision from a dream she rarely allowed herself to indulge in.

Then, she blinked -- the spell broken. "I wasn't sure if you were going to make it back from New Hampshire for tonight."

"I couldn't miss the social event of the summer."

"When did you get in?"

"A few hours ago," he admitted, looking down at the drink in his hand. When he looked back up, his eyes glittered. "Did you miss me?"

Nesta scoffed. "I'm much more productive without you around the office to distract me."

"That's not a no." The corners of his lips twitched.

“It’s not a yes, either. We talk every day on the phone,” Nesta took a drink from her glass. “How long are you back for?”

“I’ll be flying out to South Carolina by Monday,” he replied, looking away and then back at her. "Admit it, you missed me.”

“I miss having a reliable running buddy," she finally conceded with a small smile. "Mine is constantly out of town.”

He leaned against the solid tree trunk, studying her like a puzzle. "Sounds like you might need to get a new running buddy," he finally said.

All these months of close proximity, orbiting each other like binary stars, yet he always pulled himself back, never letting himself get too close.

Did she want him to cross that boundary between them? She didn't know what she would find on the other side.

"Perhaps," she murmured, stepping close so she could press her free palm against the tree beside him. She marked his eyes drop and linger on the low cut of her dress. "It's terribly rude of him to always leave me high and dry while he is away."

He swallowed. "What would you have him do then?"

This close, she could make out all the notes of his cologne: black truffle, patchouli, and ylang-ylang. She would bet all the money she had in her wallet that he smelled even more intoxicating if she leaned into the skin of his neck, right below his ear.

Nesta took a small step back. "Who were you talking to?" she asked instead, changing the subject.

"Ted Marcus," Cassian replied, his posture stiffening. "Hollywood executive, big-time donor."

"Ah," she acknowledged. "Is he one of Rhys's supporters?"

"I imagine so," Cassian said. "But I haven't figured out what he wants yet."

Nesta turned away, her discomfort palpable amidst the buzz of political strategizing and the clinking of expensive glassware. She forced herself to concentrate on the faces in the distance.

"Is there anyone here I should be talking to?" she asked, reminding herself that this was a work event.

Cassian stepped into the spot beside her, so they faced the same direction, towards the terrace. He lowered himself so his face almost touched hers, their eyes exactly level so he could see from her vantage point, following her gaze into the crowd.

"Well," he spoke softly. "Lauren Shelby," he gestures towards a woman in a black dress, "from OMB is crucial; she knows everything that is happening with the major bills. Ryan Pierce, clerks for the Chief Justice. You'll need Senator Arnold Vinick's support to pass anything in the upper chamber." He pointed out each guest to her.

Then, he stopped and waited for the throngs to shift. If she moved even a little bit, she would brush against his temple. She held her breath.

"Roger Salier," he finally pointed out. "Owns half the newspapers on the East Coast. But I suppose you probably know him already."

She nodded. "Only by reputation."

Cassian moved away, straightening to his full height. She almost sighed at the loss of heat from his proximity.

Mor had been watching them out of the corner of her eye. "Would you like an introduction?" she asked.

"What?" Nesta pivoted, almost forgetting that Azriel and Mor were nearby.

"To Roger Salier?" Mor smirked, her eyes glinting with an emotion Nesta couldn't place. "Perhaps you can convince him to part with some pocket change for the campaign. Or grant Rhys a meeting with the editorial board of The Washington Post."

Nesta studied the man in question. He stood on the edge of the party -- he looked young with energetic eyes -- speaking to an older man with a grey beard. His suit was extremely flattering, perfectly tailored to his tall, lithe frame. The fabric and lines were so exquisite that even from far away Nesta was sure it was from Savile Row.

"He's newly single, too," Mor continued. "A very amicable breakup. It wasn't a serious relationship -- if the town gossip is to be believed. Definitely the most eligible bachelor here, I'd say."

Cassian's expression became perfectly neutral, although he clutched his glass so tight that his knuckles turned white.

Nesta only blinked, surprised by the conversation's turn. Mor took Nesta's pause as affirmation.

"Okay, Az, you've got to do the honors," Mor squealed in delight. "I already gave Roger the whole campaign spiel earlier tonight. It would be too conspicuous if I made the introduction. Az will escort you over there. He can divert Myron," she indicated to the bearded man standing next to Roger, "while you make your entrance."

Azriel shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "I am not --"

But Mor was already blazing with unabashed glee, her cheeks pink and eyes bright -- it reminded Nesta of Emerie when she got particularly worked up over some scheme.

"Off you go!" She practically shoved Azriel and Nesta together with a self-satisfied grin.

Azriel gave Nesta a conciliatory shrug and hooked her hand around his elbow. "Sorry," he said softly as he tugged her away. "It's easier to just go along with it. Mor loves to play matchmaker."

Nesta sighed. "Oh, all right," she conceded; after all, she came tonight to primarily socialize for professional gain. She allowed Azriel to escort her back towards the Mansion.

When Nesta looked over her shoulder, she gave Cassian a wan smile, a little disappointed to leave him behind. Cassian's expression was unreadable. Mor talked giddily against his ear, but he didn't move -- his eyes were hard as stone as he watched Nesta walk away.

Azriel was saying something to her. Nesta nodded along but had yet to hear one word. Her mind was churning. She was almost sure of Cassian's interest in her -- he flirted with her constantly. Yet, a nagging puzzle piece refused to fit: his relationship with Mor. Were they, or had they ever been a couple? Or was it Azriel who was Mor's lover?

The questions lingered like specters in her thoughts, and the ambiguity clouded her judgment.

#fanfic #nessian #nesta x cassian #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #cassian #nesta archeron #acosf #acotar #nesta #all's fair in love and politics #archive of our own #nesta and cassian are working on a political campaign #all's fair in love and politcs

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aftgficrec · 1 year

Note

hi! do you know a fic that talks about robin's addition to the monsters and her relationship with them? tysm for your recs 🙏

From Nora’s extra content (here and here), Robin Cross joins the foxes as a freshman post canon on Andrew’s recommendation, becoming a goalie and part of Andrew’s tight-knit monsters. She is generally headcanoned to be particularly close with Neil and Andrew.

If you’re interested in a deep dive into Robin’s traumatic past of being kidnapped and held captive as a child, check out the true crime podcast au ‘Red Rabbits: Season 2’ here (now complete; accompanying art by @bloodydamnit here and here). -A

Also see

‘The Cartographer and the World’ here

‘Black as is the Raven, He’ll Get a Partner’ here

‘Red-Breasted Fox’ here

‘when i'm falling (i'm at peace)’ here

‘Skin Comes Apart (Angel in Lothian)’ here

‘Watchful Eyes’ and ‘transience’ here

‘don't wanna be lonely (just wanna be yours)’ here

‘the memory of burning’ here

‘cheers to the dead mothers club’ here

‘Runaway Train’ here

‘All I'm sayin' is if you don't love me no more, then lie’ here

‘Sliding Doors’ here

‘Worth the Trouble’ here

‘the name of the game’ here

Teaching a caged bird to fly series by Charcoalll [Rated T/M, Collection with 5 complete works, Updated Dec 2021]

Part 1: Sunrise over Home [M, 7870 Words]

Robin Cross is regretting ever signing with the Foxes more and more every day. But when a disastrous day at court leads to emotions culminating, she has a much needed talk with her coach. Turns out her recrutation wasn't as random as she thought, but why would Andrew Minyard off all people have an interest in her?

No matter what, it all ends on that cursed roof at midnight.

tw: violence, tw: negative self talk, tw: bullying, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced csa

Part 2: Guilt, Fault and Blame [T, 9093 Words]

Robin begins driving with the monsters from practice and suddenly everything changes.

tw: anxiety, tw: recreational drug use, tw: alcohol, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced murder of a child

Part 3: Never felt Safer [T, 3465 Words]

Robin finally earned Andrew's attention. Now she's standing in front of the biggest changes her life has seen, but as it seems it's only for the better.

tw: violence

Part 4: Secret Privacy [M, 15790 Words]

5 times Robin saw the emotions others seemed blind to, and 1 time it was painfully obvious.

Or Andrew and Neil through Robin's eyes.

tw: alcohol, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: homophobia

Part 5: You've found your people, haven't you? [G, 5335 Words]

Robin takes Neil and Andrew home to her parent's for Thanksgiving

tw: anxiety

Afterthoughts by wesawbears [Rated T, Collection, Complete, 2017]

Chapter 37: Andrew and Wymack- Robin [488 Words]

Chapter 57: Robin- First Season [244 Words]

Soulmarks Bind Ravens And Foxes Alike series by sam_sational [Rated T/M, Collection with 2 complete works, Updated March 2023]

Part 1: Fate Is A Meddling Bitch [T, 39848 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil doesn't swing, so he has no soulmark.

Andrew doesn't touch people, so he doesn't have to worry about his aversion to the concept either.

Unfortunately fate is a meddling bitch.

tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: heavily referenced self harm, tw: references to suicide, tw: flashbacks, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity

Part 2: Speak Up, Little Fox [M, 14071 Words, Complete, 2023]

Five times Robin defended Andrew. One time Andrew spoke up.

tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity, tw: anxiety, tw: negative self talk

Show me the places where the others gave you scars by wangxian_234 [Rated T, 3369 Words, Complete, 2021]

Andrew has a past just as fucked up as Robin's, but he seems happy with Neil. Robin has questions.

or: a slightly ooc discussion of how sex is effected by trauma

tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity

Grains by Preludeno3 [Rated G, 993 Words, Complete, 2022]

Don’t say stupid things” Andrew growls back. His arm crawls with the contact and proximity, he’ll have move soon or he’ll have his own meltdown on his hands. “It gets better”

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

pick up all the pieces (and what’s left of my pride) by poika [Rated T, 4637 Words, Complete, 2020]

robin cross is interesting. and andrew doesn’t think that often.

an exploration into andrew and robin's relationship, featuring andrew's scathing running commentary, emotional growth and making a friend along the way

tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

my one, my dear by Mercey [Rated T, 18478 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2023]

Five years after graduating from Palmetto State University, Kevin's pro team decides to sign freshly-graduated Robin Cross. According to their friends it simply makes sense for the two ex-foxes to move in together, and while Kevin's intensity and Robin's unflappable nature pair well initially, what will happen when their darker things come to light?

tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity, tw: implied/referenced alcoholism, tw: implied/referenced murder

Neil Fights the Foxes by This_Witch_Writes [Rated T, 24142 Words, Complete, 2022]

Times that Neil got into fights and arguments on Andrew's behalf.

tw: homophobia, tw: transphobia, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: mania, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: car accident

Stay With Me by Lostintheuniverseslies [Rated E, 21072 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2023]

Part 3 of Healing, find part 1 here

They spent the first year after everything healing. Now they have to learn how to navigate being away from each other while Andrew is off playing in the pros and Neil is still at Palmetto finishing his fifth year. Things aren't easy. They never seem to be for them but they're fighters. And they always come out on top.

tw: explicit sexual content, tw: homophobia, tw: negative body image

From Dungeons by JuiceGremlin [Rated E, 8561 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2022]

“I haven’t played Exy in years.”

“Brush up. Prove to me that you can be trusted. Miss Malcom will fill The Butcher’s position until a decision can be made about you.”

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: murder, tw: blood/gore, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: gun violence, tw: implied/referenced animal abuse, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity

didn’t know I was lonely (‘til I saw your face) by outofbookshelves [Rated M, 6671 Words, Complete, 2022]

Neil hadn’t expected Andrew’s first year in the pros to be easy. But he’d be fine for the next few months, until he saw Andrew again on Thanksgiving.

He turned out to be wrong, though – it wasn’t fine.

5 times Neil missed Andrew (and didn't realize it) and 1 time he didn't have to anymore.

tw: graphic nightmares, tw: implied/referenced torture

Five Years to the Day by emmy (emmy7) [Rated T, 5045 Words, Complete, 2021]

Neil's final game as a Fox with some big feelings, sappy thoughts, and a whole lot of hugging.

it's rotten work (not to me; not if it's you) by Awesomenessatrandom [Rated G, 8868 Words, Complete, 2021]

Part 1 of when is a monster not a monster? (when you love it)

three times Neil couldn't take care of himself and one where Andrew lets himself get taken care of

It begins the summer directly after King's Men and progresses chronologically.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: violence, tw: anxiety

thumbs up by tropicalblend [Rated G, 5268 Words, Complete, 2021]

Robin's on her period and her cramps are tearing apart her insides. She thinks she can push through practice and knock out in her dorm, but her body said, no lets black out during practice.

Kevin, Andrew, and Neil try to help in little ways.

tw: menstruation

All We Ever Knew by OrdinaryVegan [Rated G, 1317 Words, Complete, 2017]

Robin comes to Neil for life advice, and he is surprisingly helpful.

A Quick Stop Before Breakfast by AnniGrace [Rated G, 1163 Words, Complete, 2017]

Blah blah blah Nora says they never get married but...

Some Tumblr Bits

…then you remember baby Robin Cross exists meta by @jostenjorts [Tumblr, 2022]

Neil and Robin on the cover of vogue; a spiel by @chronic-optimistt [Tumblr, 2022]

Robin is Andrew and Niel adopted daughter for me this is a fact hc and Niel teaching Robin / Niel teaching any of the other foxes fandom fun post by @chacha462 [Tumblr, 2021]

Robin Cross headcanons by @yolkylemon [Tumblr, 2021]

Art

Her fist day at the locker room after her Eden’s Twilight trip comic by @crows-and-crumbs

my new Robin Cross obsession comic by @two-wizards-in-a-trench-coat

When Robin meets Renee and Allison, agents of chaos, and ur hand in marriage pls ma’am art by @yolkylemon

I’ve never smoked before and neil and robin are besties art by @poikas

Robin Cross art by @redskiesandsailboats

Robin brain rot hours and More Robin Cross hours art by rei_ko__ on instagram; also here, @rei-ka-ko

Lil Robin Cross moment art by @truthforatruth

✝️Robin Cross✝️ art by drewthesapphic on instagram, also here on twitter

meet Robin, Foxes’ goalkeeper by shtormlen on instagram

48 notes · View notes

dab1-ex · 2 years

Text

Chapter 9

The Samurai

Paring :Choso x reader (Naoya x reader)

Synopsis: You’re in an arranged marriage with Naoya he may not seem like the prince charming but maybe a your knight may come saving you, his the Samurai Choso from the Kamo clan. Will he save you from this disaster you call a marriage or will Naoya change for the better or come to his demise as the worst.

Genre: Historical AU, drama

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, ( we about to get to bottom about whose the baby daddy)

Taglist:@brownskinnedgirll @sweetshawty @eleventhdoctorsangel

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist🌸💕

1 , 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12

___________________________________________

'(Y/N) is pregnant',

The words echoed throught Choso's mind he couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe.

He hoped this was a sick joke, a nightmare that he would wake up from, but it wasn't the visible small that was beginning to form was evident.

"Congratulations" was all Choso could muster.

He turned around as swiftly as he had entered and left, as the tears began forming in his lashline.

__________________________________________

You hadn't known you were pregnant.

You swore that you feeling ill in the morning was because of the chia seeds in your breakfast, something new which you had just began eating.

And you being bloated was because of all the milk and honey you had been craving lately.

You were positive you weren't pregnant.

You couldn't be.

But then, one morning while Fujiko was dressing you in your kimono she looked you up and down strangely.

"What is it" you asked as her change in expression was evident.

"Lady (Y/N), have you received your monthly blood?" Fujiko questioned as she starred at your lower abdomen.

"I have not been keeping count since the last one, but I'm sure it shall arrive soon"

Fujiko didn't seem to take these words as enough evidence to crush her hypothesis.

"Lady (Y/N), do you perhaps have any foods you've become fond of recently?"

"Well, I have been enjoying these sunflower seeds that Naoya brings in the evenings" you said thinking about the delectable seeds and how you would break the seed shell to eat the delicious seedling.

"I actually would like some now. Perhaps there is some in the kitchen pantry" you said to Fujiko as you continued to daydream about the seed.

"One last question my lady"

You looked towards her singalling her to ask her question.

"Have you experienced any nauseas, especially in the mornings?"

Without thinking to much about the question you agreed.

"Yes, I have"

Without a moment waste Fujiko moved her hands from the sash of your kimono to your exposed lower abdomen.

You looked at her in bewilderment, you didn't know what had caused this strange behavior, in the usual calm Fujiko.

"Fujiko what are you doin-"

"You're pregnant" she said without any hesitation.

You stood there quietly for a moment, as you slowly tried to process Fujiko's words. You kept repeating it in your mind 'You're pregnant ' until you finally realized what she said.

"It can't be" you said hoping that by some miracle your words would be true.

"It is Lady (Y/N). The last time you bled was ten weeks ago, you're six weeks late, you show symptoms of morning sickness and have cravings. To make it more obvious you have already developed a swelling"

You stood there in shock. You were pregnant. You were carrying Naoya's child, you couldn't believe it; you didn't want to believe it.

"I shall inform Naoya-sama, as soon as possible my Lady" Fujiko said as she did her best to quickly tie your kimono.

"No, it's alright. I shall tell him this evening" you said as your eyes became distant and the tears started falling from your eyes.

You didn't leave your quarters that day, and you had stayed inside that evening. You didn't wish to see anyone. You were relieved that you fell pregnant before the second season but you were pregnant with Naoya's child, the man who couldn't keep a stupid promise.

The evening came to soon and you sat at the chubdai silently eating across from Naoya.

"Husband I wish to tell you something?"

He slowly looked up from his meal.

"Speak as your heart desires my wife" he said as he looked back down to his food, as he began picking up a dumpling.

"I'm pregnant Naoya"

Naoya dropped his chopsticks, as his gazed went back to you and then down to the little bump you were coddling.

"When did you find out?"

"This morning" you said looking down.

Naoya didn't even realize you were pregnant, but the more he thought about it the more clearer the signs became, you constant complaints of looking round, the way you'd search for his sunflower seeds, you rushing to the bathroom when the sun arisen and especially you new desire to be bedded multiple times in one night.

It was as clear as day and yet he missed it but he didn't care now. He was to happy about the fact that you were pregnant and with his heir.

That's when his cold demeanor shattered; he didn't care anymore if you'd love him less because he wasn't being distant anymore or that him seeming to not be interested in you would get him more of your attention.

He wanted to hold you and kiss you, and that's exactly what he did. Without a minute to spare he forgot about his dinner and quickly stood up approaching you and gently carrying you to your bedroom.

He could see your expression of shock as if he'd gone mad, but he didn't care.

He laid you gently on the bed as if you were a Lilly being placed in water.

He carefully laid beside you, taking you hand in his own and placing it upon your growing child.

"Thank you for bestowing my second greatest blessing upon me"

His words confused you, it was not even a day ago that he didn't care about you and now he was holding you like his life depended on it, was this all because you were pregnant. It probably was, his words swam in your head, this was the second greatest blessing you bestowed upon him.

"Naoya-Sama, what was the first blessing I bestowed upon you?" You asked with much hesitation in your voice.

"You married me"

It felt as if all time had stopped was he actually glad about being married to you, after he made you feel like nothing but an irritation and burden to him.

__________________________________________

That evening Naoya held you close and whispered into your ears about a life, where you'd be by his side till old age and you'd watch your children run around in the courtyard and feed the khoi fish he knew you were fond of.

To you it was a sweet moment that you hoped would be true, but your heart longed for another, a man who was once deemed an honorable Samurai who had the exterior of an emotionless soldier but on the inside was a soft hearted man who found joy in your curiosity of the world and love from you.

__________________________________________

But now you wish it was the prior evening, as Choso stood infront of you as your sick form was being held close to a Naoya. To weak to even stand by yourself let alone push him away.

When Naoya told him you were with child you saw Choso's heart shatter; it wasn't as clear to those who didn't know him as his facial features didn't show his sadness but you could tell by his eyes. They way they dropped to Naoya holding your small bump and back up to you, as his eyes glazed over. That was enough of a sign to you that you'd broken the man's heart.

__________________________________________

The first three months of your pregnancy was filled with you getting morning sickness and odd cravings.

By the fourth month you were glowing. Every kimono looked beautiful on you and every jewel was unmatched of your beauty.

Naoya had been stuck to your side since you had told him of his child. Every council meeting he missed, every task he was given ignored; his father of course overlooked it all as he was happy for his son.

Naobito remembered when he found out that Naoya was growing in his mother, how happy he was, how he'd refuse to do anything and everything that didn't require him to be by his wife's side. Naobito wouldn't say it was because he cared more for his wife rather for the little child growing within.

Naoya liked to think he was different to his father in that sense; Naoya did love you. He was sure of that. He enjoyed being in your company as he watched your child grow within you. He had to admit that being softer and kinder to you brought him more love and affection than his previous strategy to obtain them. Naoya was in pure bliss.

You were content for the time being, you were happy to be receiving such affections from your husband, you had to admit he wasn't that horrible. He was loathsome, irritational, demeaning, somewhat cruel but he was not horrible. Your heart new the truth though, it longed to be with the Samurai. To feel the firm grip of Choso's hand that wielded a katana, the softness of his hair as it tickled your face and the ever bright lights that would be seen shining through his eyes, you craved to have him here to have these moments that were suppose to be pure joy spent with him rather than Naoya.

Choso, however was experiencing the worst four months of his life. You'd tried to see him multiple times to talk to him but he would just ignore you, saying he was asked to do some other duty. Choso felt as if he'd given up everything for nothing. He loved you and now you were pregnant with another man's child. He began to think that this prophecy might have just been a children's story his mother said to him to help him fall asleep.

__________________________________________

It was a cool evening as your fifth month was slowly approaching, the growing dome of your child now present.

You hadn't spoken a full sentence to Choso since that morning he came in to find you with growing life inside.

You hoped that you would be able to speak to him alone, but alas Naoya was always by your side, from stone cold hard to doting father-to-be. At first having Naoya around you all the time was a new feeling and you slowly grew to enjoy it but now by you were extremely overwhelmed by having him around you all day and night seldom leaving your side.

The few times you were alone was when you you'd walk to the dining hall while Naoya attended personal talks with his father that would last no longer than five minutes. During this time you would sometimes see Choso and you would hurriedly walk over to him to try talk to him only for him to excuse himself as he had other duties to attend to. You began to realize that he was actively avoiding you and understood why he would.

But on this cool evening you had decide that enough was enough and you had to speak to him before the sun risen.

You placed your a silk scarf around your shoulder to keep you warm in your thin evening yukata.

You had already informed Naoya earlier that day that you would go for an evening walk to clear your mind for the events that would take place tomorrow, as you would meet with the monk from the zenin temple to discuss the future of your child.

You began walking to the courtyard. You hoped and prayed Choso would be standing there by the pond as he once did awaiting your nightly love making.

You carefully walked passed the hedges trying your best to stay as silent as possible.

"You know Lady (Y/N) from the first day I met you, your skills of silence have not improved much" Choso stated matter of factly.

"Noted" you said with a smile as you walked the rest of the distance to where he stood.

Choso kept his gaze fixed at the moon, as your gaze was fixed on him.

The silence from when you last spoke began to get longer and longer, the tension in the air you could no longer stand and you attempted to break it the same way he did back at the Kamo Estate.

"The fish look fat here, perhaps they are being over fed" you said pointing towards an orange khoi that had stuck its head out for a mere second.

Choso broke his gaze from the evening sky and look down towards what you spoke of.

"Perhaps" is all he said.

"So how have your duties been?" You said before another silence would befall upon you.

"Its been well" He said as his gaze remaind on the khoi pond.

"I thought your duty was to be my guard, I hadn't thought there was others you had as well" you said with a bit of a laugh to keep the mood light.

"Yes, it was my duty to be your personal guard my lady but now Naoya-sama assists your everywhere leaving me useless in that position"

You kept quiet trying to think of what else you could say, but Choso began speaking again.

"I don't blame him. I too, would want to be around the woman I love and our child that grows with in her" his gazed shifted from the pond to your bump.

You watched as his eyes remained on your child for a few minutes before connecting with your eyes, and when you looked into his eyes you saw all the memories you had created with him from the day you tried to get his name to the last night you made love in the very spot the two of you now stood.

And you tried your best to come up with what next to say but your mouth had beat you to it already speaking.

"Choso I'm sorry" you said the tears slowly began to form in your eyes and your voice got caught in your throat.

"I'm so-sorry for e-very-thing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry Choso. I'm sorr-"

"Do not apologize for things you have no control of" he said meeting you gaze again as his own eyes were filled with tears.

"You could not help falling pregnant, just as much as I could not help falling in love with you"

__________________________________________

You sat quietly in the temple situated on the far right of the zenin estate, as you awaited on the monk who would tell you of his premonitions of your child.

Each second passed slower than the next and your mind began drifting to prior evening....

After Choso's confession you stood there eyes widened and heart beating fast. You knew he had feelings towards you but never thought they would be as strong as love. You didn't know how to act or what to say at his words once again allowing silence to fall upon you but not as long as before.

Choso turned his body towards yours taking your hands in his. He placed a soft kiss upon your lips.

"Even if our fate was not kind enough to let us be together I'm glad I was blessed to meet you my (Y/N)"

"Lady (Y/N)" spoke the monk breaking your daydreaming to last night.

"My deepest apologies for my daydreaming" you said with a slight bow of your head.

"Quite alright my dear, the baby probably keeping you up" the kind old monk said as he looked upon you with a smile.

"Shall we begin" continued the monk as he placed a cup of green tea infront of you.

You carefully blew onto the hot water trying your best to cool it down before you drank it. You took slow sips in hopes to not burn your tongue. When the tea was nearly done you passed the ceramic cup back to the monk.

He began examining the bottom of the mug that contained the leaves.

You watched carefully as he examined the leaves hoping to be able to tell what he would say to you, what he could tell you about your child before they came into the world.

The monk carefully placed the cup on the chubdai to the left of him as he shifted closer towards your.

"May I" he said as he raised his hands towards your face.

He starred deeply into your eyes, his face remained expressionless as his hands then shifted to your bump.

He gently began applying pressure to your bump as he moved his hands around it.

He removed his hands and looked back at the cup and then your bump.

He began to close his eyes, his eyebrows slowly began to crease and the monk opened his eyes.

"From what I have seen, your child is blessed. It shall have be loved by all especially its father, as it will carry on the family name bringing great honour towards it"

You smiled as your hand instinctively went to cradle your bump, as you listen to the monk continue to talk.

"They shall be as honorable as their father and as caring as their mother" the monk continued.

You began imagining how your life would be when you finally were able to meet this child the monk spoke so highly of, how they'd bring so much joy to your life.

"This child shall be known as the great dragon, bringing great successes, having strength of great warrior and wisdom of a nobleman"

"This child - " the monk said as his eyes grew bigger.

You now grew anxious as the monk did not finish his sentence. He now looked at you with an odd expression one which you were unable to decipher.

The monk closed his eyes again.

"I see two lions running towards this child; one whose mane is fully grown and the other whose mane is still in growth. When they reach the child, the child only reaches his hands out to the lion whose mane is still growing"

The monk opened his eyes again and now looked at you with the same face of shock like he could not believe what he had just seen.

You were unsure of what to do next, but you kept quiet hoping the monk would explain what he had just seen.

"The lions in that premonition represents the child's father"

"The lion with the mane represents"

And the monk closed his eyes again.

Hope you guys like this chapter, let me know.

🌸🌸💗

171 notes · View notes

strandnreyes · 6 months

Note

jen, i've been trying to think of something super unhinged for nice ask week and i haven't been able to think of anything. so here's my shit excuse for nice ask week and sorry that you might have to look some of these up. please rank these fictional vampires in order from least want to befriend to most want to befriend AND ALSO from not-est to hottest (others opinions are welcome - this is MY ask, MY rules - just kidding pls post this jen, i worked so hard on it):

1. count dracula, dracula (specifically, the 1992 adaptation of the novel in which gary oldman - admittedly, my older gentleman crush - plays dracula)

2. stefan salvatore, the vampire diaries

3. damon salvatore, the vampire diaries (had to ask for both brothers, come on)

4. laurent, twilight (u know i think he is a lil something something)

5. daddy cullen i mean carlisle cullen, twilight

6. dakota fanning looking extremely slay, twilight

7. spike, buffy the vampire slayer

8. count von count, seasame street

9. eric northman, true blood

10. bella swan, vampiric edition, twilight

11. blade, blade

12. me.

THANK YOU FOR COMING

hello, lola. first let me start by saying here is a different vampire ranking without a definition of best, just vibes (you create one vampire au and suddenly this is your whole life). I am not rereading it though, so no promises that I'm not about to contradict myself

I appreciate how hard you worked on asking this, so I hope you appreciate how hard I worked on answering it

Least want to befriend to most want to befriend:

damon - he seems like a walking red flag, he really does

2. dakota fanning - I respect a girlboss but I do think she would kill me after one wrong move. would constantly have a tummy ache, stressed to the max.

3. spike - I have never seen buffy, but google tells me he was a villain. have to play it safe here

4. bella - I'm so sorry bella but I think you would annoy me

5. blade - I really tried looking him up to give an honest friend ranking, but there were so many version?? is it a comic? a movie? a tv show? idk I got confused therefore he defaults to the middle of the list

6. laurent - one of the nicer members of his little posse (unlike that bitch james). might try to kill me but a good sob story would probably get me out of it

7. count dracula - i just read his backstory. that's so tragic, I think he could use a friend

8. carlisle - turning a bunch of teenagers into vampires when they were on their death bed is a little odd, but he had good intentions. and now look at the house he provides for them like I'll move in no questions asked

9. stefan - admittedly have only seen a few seasons of tvd, but he seems to have some kind of morals so that's always a good place to start for a friendship

10. eric - "calculating yet loyal and generally willing to absolve those that aggravate him, unless they have grievously crossed him. However, he is fiercely vindictive towards anyone who harms or threatens those he loves". thank you, trueblood.fandom.com. If I'm befriending all of these vampires, making him a top priority seems like a good choice

11. count von count - he has a cat. I'm using him and abusing our friendship for that. sorry count

12. lola - who shouldn't (?) be on this list (unless you have a secret to tell)

okay hotness below the cut because this is already too long

Least hot to most hot

1. dakota fanning (jane) - default to last because she is a child lmao

2. count von count - he is a cartoon (puppet? I don't know). I feel like there is only one right answer here and it is to put him in the second least hot position (unless that's your thing. you do you)

3. damon - this man creeps me out. I don't know if it's the eyes or what but again, bad vibes. stay away from her (elena), old man!

4. count dracula - willy wonka looking vampire. sorry to your older gentleman crush. you can keep him

5. eric northman - I do not know this man but he is giving 'just some guy' with a little bit of finance bro

6. bella - one too many awkward smiles while tucks her hair behind her ear moments, you know?

7. spike - cheek bones are cheek boning. some may say too much though. hair is giving 90s boy band. although for his time I can excuse it

8. carlisle cullen - not the biggest dilf in twilight, but an important one

9. laurent - unfortunate that you didn't pick the picture where he rolls up with his jacket undone and no shirt underneath. what an entrance. he also gets hotness points because laurent is a very good vampire name

10. stefan salvatore - the objectively better brother based on my limited knowledge. good picture. love a henley moment. look at those forearms.

11. blade - I don't know this man, but I would like to.

*you can't be ranked on the hotness scale because you did not provide a picture. sorry ;)

#ask

9 notes · View notes

littlemisspascal · 2 years

Text

Formula 101 - Prologue Part 2: October

Summary: The only thing you can truly count on in the heat of the moment, when you’re speeding on the track going 170mph, is yourself.

Pairing: eventual Javi/Fem!Reader "Oddball" (OFC)

Word Count: 5000+

Rating: T

Warnings: Social Media Fic, Formula One AU ft. multiple Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe characters, Switching POVs, Worldbuilding, Headlines inspired by true events but edited for this plot, Usernames were created for fun and if they do exist irl there's no affiliation, Slowest of Slow Burn, Language, Insecurities, Descriptions of a crash but no major injuries and/or blood

Author Note: Massive thank you to everybody who gave this fic a chance! The support is beyond appreciated 💗💗💗

Bonus shoutout to everyone who suggested snow cone flavors 😄

A03 Link | Series Masterlist

Founded in 1968, Vulpecula is the second oldest active team in Formula 1. Over fifty drivers have raced for the team, leading to numerous Drivers’ and Constructors’ Championships and giving them a reputation as one of the most successful teams in F1 history. However, in recent years Vulpecula has struggled due to a combination of poor business decisions and badly designed cars, forcing them to restrategize and seek new methods of taking back their former glory.

(Malk, Ranzar. The Cobalt Fox: The Official History of Vulpecula Formula 1. Roost: Bothan 5 Press, 2019. Print.)

_________________________________________________

October’s beautiful in Altair. It’s soft sweaters and falling leaves and warm drinks. People are their friendliest during this time when there’s no summer heat to irritate their tempers and winter’s chill hasn’t arrived yet to turn their bodies into ice cubes.

They wave when you ride your bike through town, well-wishes on their smiling lips. The strong vibes of community threaten to drown you in homesickness for your village in Sorgan. It’s a feeling that follows you into Vulpecula’s headquarters, five floors of steel beams and glass walls yet somehow still cozy, still welcoming.

Every week you’re expected to devote several hours to practicing on the racing simulator. It resembles the front part of an F1 car, a replica of the cockpit complete with a steering wheel to hold onto and pedals for your feet, set up in front of 65” triple screens. Gearing up in your suit and helmet, the simulator takes you out of headquarters and immerses you into the world of F1, replicating the tracks and car movements down to the smallest detail thanks to live footage and a gigantic amount of data. It can be set up however Vulpecula’s strategists want—weather conditions, tire types, fuel load, and countless more options all programmed with the press of a button.

This is what official training for Formula 1 looks like for you, outside of the few practice laps you’ve had in Badillo’s car throughout the season. The simulator helps the strategists and engineers collect data about your driving style, and it also helps you prepare for the tracks you’ve never raced on before, letting you practice them over and over again until every movement, each brake and twist of the wheel, is muscle memory.

Sometimes people will stop by to watch, Vulpecula staff members or Vivian or even Pietro if he’s bored enough. Sometimes when you’re participating in a virtual race with AI cars, your audience will grow from a handful to a small gathering, playfully placing bets on who will be the victor. Which, to be honest, is a little stressful.

…A lot stressful, actually.

In theory, it’s harmless fun. Hell, you’d probably do the same thing if you were in their shoes and someone else was in the driver’s seat. But here’s the kicker: you’ve been losing more virtual races than winning so far. The strategists offer suggestions on how to do better, ideas to try out, working their asses off to help you become the best driver you can be and yet still you finish in the back of the pack—P12, P15, P-fucking-19—scoring a whopping zero points.

Nobody’s said anything about your poor results—to your face, at least. Still, there are these chronic doubts lingering in the back of your mind, triggering every insecurity you have, making you wonder if behind every encouraging smile and fist bump they’re all wondering the same thing: what the hell is this kid doing here?

It’s only October, still months to go before you’re behind the wheel of next season’s car. Your results have the potential to change a lot by then. Minds have the potential to change, too. And that’s what’s got you worried most of all.

Vivian believes you’re exactly what Vulpecula needs, somebody fresh-faced and quick, yet also levelheaded—perfect for their goal of dominating the midfield teams and eventually, one day in the hopefully-not-so-distant-future, challenging the Top 3 for the championships. And when she first told you about the plan back in August, her belief was inspiring, filling you with a sense of purpose and rightness, like it was the final missing puzzle piece you’d been looking for all this time.

Now, staring at the simulator screen displaying the word FAILURE in big red letters after you oversteered and crashed into a barrier, it’s hard not to think maybe you’re the wrong driver to believe in.

_________________________________________________

Formula1Daily

Oddball joins Vulpecula for Formula 1 2023: The inside scoop Ginger Ale ─ October 5, 2022

The recent announcement from Vulpecula regarding the drafting of Oddball for the upcoming 2023 F1 season has made ripples across the globe. I talked with CEO Vivian Etten about this decision and what to expect from the team in the future.

So why has Vulpecula signed Oddball?

Etten: She’s got such undeniable natural talent. She’s still young, still growing up, but I believe her and Javi, who has earned a good amount of experience during his career in F1, are an excellent combo. It was an easy decision to make to sign Oddball as our driver.

Has Vulpecula learned from past mistakes regarding young drivers?

Etten: I’ll be the first to admit to our mistakes. With Oddall, we plan to manage her with the necessary time and space she needs to adapt to the environment. We’re a different team now than we were when Omar was with us. We’ll make sure to do better moving forward.

Were there other young drivers you considered to join Vulpecula?

Etten: Oddball was always our top choice from the get-go. But there were some talks with Omar about returning to us, and a few meetings with Frederick Mercer during the summer break. Ultimately though, we wanted Oddball to stay in the Vulpecula family and we knew another team would recruit her in an instant if we didn’t.

So what can be expected from Oddball in 2023?

Etten: The focus for us this season isn’t to beat Sunspear, Nevarro, or Aurelac. We need to better ourselves first and foremost as a team. And with Oddball and Gutierrez, I believe we can make the crucial first steps forward in that direction.

READ MORE AT FORMULA1DAILY.COM

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Formula 2 is meant to be a training ground of sorts for drivers to prepare for their potential entry into F1, but it differs from F1 in several ways. For starters, the cars are slower, only capable of reaching 205mph when pushed to their limits. There’s also only twelve rounds a season instead of twenty-one with each weekend including two races—a sprint race on Saturday and the feature race on Sunday—giving drivers an extra chance of earning points.

What’s the difference between a feature race and a sprint race? Sprints are shorter, only 100km, meant to be a flat-out speed race from start to finish without any pit stops.

You never know what’s going to happen when you’re on the track. Nobody does, actually, and anyone who says otherwise is a liar because there’s literally hundreds of unpredictable outcomes.

Everyone hopes for a first place victory for their team. Obviously. But hope does little to help when the weather abruptly changes, or your engine fails in the middle of a lap, or the pit crew isn’t prepared, or —the list of problems is endless. The only thing you can truly count on in the heat of the moment, when you’re speeding on the track going 170mph, is yourself.

The Colombian round this weekend is a crucial one, the penultimate of the season. If Ben has high finishes, his lead over the rest of the grid will guarantee him the championship title. But if you can beat him here and then do it again next round in November, you might have a chance of stealing the title from him.

You arrive at the Bogotá circuit excited and optimistic.

Friday is wonderful. Your practice session is one of the best you’ve had all season, beating Ben by two tenths of a second. In qualifying, you finish P2 just a hair behind Frederick Mercer. It’s a little shocking, since he hasn’t taken pole position on the grid since round one in March, but you know you can beat him in the upcoming races just as you have done every round so far.

Saturday is…decidedly not wonderful. A bad start coupled with a tire puncture has you retiring from the sprint and returning to the pit with your metaphorical tail between your legs. The sympathetic looks from the team have you gritting your teeth, wishing you could claw off your own skin and disappear.

Tomorrow will be better, you tell yourself, a hopeful mantra to ward off the dark thoughts creeping in at the edges. It has to be.

Sunday can be summed up in five words: when it rains, it pours.

October is the wettest month of the year in Colombia. One of the mechanics tells you there’s only about 98 hours of sunshine during the whole month, so the two previous days of clear skies were a gift from the universe. You gear up like usual, knowing even if it does rain the race will go on. The cars are water-resistant and can be equipped with wet weather tires specially designed with treads to help prevent aquaplaning. Doesn’t mean accidents don’t still happen though. There are no guarantees everyone will get through the race without spinning off the track.

About ten minutes before the race begins, the cloudy skies decide it is the perfect time for a shower. The raindrops are fat, cold, the pitter-patter sound of each one striking the ground resembling a dull roar in your ears even with your helmet on. There are no signs of lightning yet, no ominous claps of thunder either, and so the race officials agree to let the event start on time.

Depending on which driver is asked, racing in the rain is either the most exhilarating adrenaline rush they crave like a drug or it’s an anxiety attack wrapped in terror with a lopsided bow of misfortune on top.

You’re somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. There are definitely some scary aspects, namely the spray coming off the tires of cars in front which creates this eerie plume of fog dirtying the air, limiting visibility to a few precious and blurry feet ahead. But rainy conditions also tend to throw a wrench in the status quo—drivers usually in the lead during dry races might suddenly find themselves overtaken by those who have barely scored any points all season.

When it rains, suddenly anything and everything seems possible.

Lap 26 out of 30 finds you at the front of the pack, searching for an opportunity to overtake Ben. All you can see are his rear lights, two glowing red beams cutting through the heavy shades of gray pressing in from all sides. Every jerk of the steering wheel when the tires hit a wet patch on the track has your arm muscles straining, fighting back against the car’s desire to spin

When the next corner comes, you don’t even see Frederick veering too close into your space.

His front tire bumps against your rear one, and then the world is spinning round and round in a bewildering mess of rain and flying debris. You’re helpless to stop any of it, can only brace for impact with the padded barrier and pray for the best—for yourself and for the car.

The sound of the collision with the barrier—an almighty thud that sends a jarring shockwave through your body, bones rattling from head to toe, followed immediately by the enraged snarling of the engine unable to comprehend what the hell just happened—snaps your frazzled mind back into focus.

“Oddball, you alright?” your race engineer’s asking over the radio, her voice thick with worry. Koska’s your only source of contact with your team, keeping you up to date on any major developments on the track you’re unaware of.

“Yeah, Koska,” you reassure her, wiggling your fingers and moving your legs. Nothing’s broken. No sharp bursts of agonizing pain. Just the regular amount of soreness and jitters which follow after a shunt. “I’m fine. How’s Freddy?”

“Fine. His car’s in a worse state than yours though,” she answers, and you can’t quite stifle the petty pulse of satisfaction which swells inside when you hear that. “The medical car is on its way. ”

You look up then, seeing a marshal waving a yellow flag near the corner, alerting other drivers to slow down to avoid the pieces of debris littering the track that flew off both cars during the accident. Your fingers clench and unclench around the edges of the wheel, feeling so very young and so incredibly stupid.

“Koska,” you say, biting your lip to stop it from wobbling. Your eyes squeeze shut, forcing back down the unsteady emotions threatening to escape in embarrassing ways. “Tell…tell the team I’m sorry, please. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Oddball,” is her immediate response.

But it’s not. It’s not okay at all.

You arrived at the Bogotá circuit excited and optimistic.

Now, riding in the back of the medical car, no points won and your chance of the title completely eviscerated, it’s hard to feel anything besides gut-wrenching disappointment.

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There’s a snow cone stand barely a ten minute drive from Triple Frontier headquarters that Frankie loves because it’s the only one in the city which has his favorite flavor: lavender bubblegum.

It’s become a tradition for Javi and him to come here every Wednesday following race weekends. Mondays are for catching up on sleep, missed emails and calls, enjoying some personal time before the team calls them back in on Tuesday to review every second of the GP under a metaphorical microscope.

The ambiance of The Chill Zone is, as the name implies, chill and casual. A teal blue shack just big enough for the two employees to move around comfortably in as they fill orders from the chalkboard menu featuring at least a hundred snow cone options. There’s the classics—such as cherry, grape, blue raspberry—and then there’s some for more adventurous taste buds—chamoy, seasalt, and lychee among others.

Frankie always sticks with his favorite, never tempted to explore outside his comfort zone. Javi, on the other hand, likes to sample a different flavor every visit. Just like with every new experience, sometimes they’re great and well-worth the money, while other times they’re absolutely disgusting and fill him with regret.

He’s picked tiger’s blood this time, a combination of strawberry and watermelon with a splash of coconut that elicits a pleased hum from his mouth after the first taste. A good choice for the warm afternoon, he thinks, grimacing as he wipes at his sweaty forehead with his sleeve.

They’re sitting at one of the picnic tables surrounding the stand, painted teal to match the aesthetic with a large striped umbrella warding off the worst of the sun’s rays. The only other customers around are a woman with two young children who care more about devouring their cold treats than Javi and Frankie’s presences. Sometimes people recognize them, ask for selfies or handshakes or both, but the employees have long grown used to their recurring appearances and for the most part they’re usually left alone to enjoy their snow cones in peace.

“Your future teammate had a serious fuck-up last weekend,” Frankie says impudently, loud enough the woman four tables away shoots him a reproachful look. He schools his expression into an apologetic one, but as soon as she’s turned around his eyes are back on Javi again with a pointed stare.

“I heard,” Javi says before shoveling a larger spoonful into his mouth. The immediate brain freeze is totally worth it, even if he nearly accidentally drops the styrofoam cup onto his lap, hands fumbling for a more secure hold.

Frankie rolls his eyes, like the same exact thing hadn’t happened to him two minutes ago, and asks, “You think she’s ready for F1?”

Javi points his spoon at him. “We all have bad races, Morales.” Then, because he can’t resist the extra dig, “Some of us quite a few more than others, if my memory’s correct.”

“Ha ha, look who’s developed a sense of humor,” is the bone-dry response followed by another eye roll. “I can’t wait until your Vulpecula’s problem to deal with and I can start getting some respect around here.”

“You honestly think Miller is going to listen to a word you say? Un-fucking-likely.” Javi can’t help but laugh a little. Everyone knows that since Miller’s now a shoo-in for the F2 championship in the wake of Oddball’s misfortune, the Triple Frontier team principal is going to have him sign a contract immediately to fill Javi’s vacant seat. Knowing Santi, he probably texted Ben the second the driver stepped off the podium Sunday afternoon.

Frankie ignores him, which isn’t a surprise, and wipes at his mouth with a napkin, leaving a bright purple syrupy stain behind. “That seems to be the problem nowadays, doesn’t it? All these new rookies the teams are bringing in, prioritizing youth over experience, thinking they can discipline them and mold them into the perfect driver they wish them to be.”

“Then dumping them when their results aren’t good enough,” Javi agrees with a frown, a sourness on his tongue that has nothing to do with the tiger’s blood flavor.

This ‘problem’ Frankie’s described, it isn’t a new thing. Four years ago, Javi was one of those new rookies who were too young and too eager to prove themselves to realize they were being thrown into the deep end of a shark-infested pool and expected to swim to survive. He’d been lucky to last his whole debut season with Crane, that they didn’t cut him loose at the midseason break after he’d made every mistake a driver could possibly make. He’d been even luckier Black Gold agreed to have him on their team, thinking he’d found people who’d help him develop his skills with patient guidance—until they eventually grew upset with his lack of promising results after two and a half seasons and arranged a transfer with Triple Frontier as part of a business arrangement between the two teams.

Black Gold got a new engine manufacturer for their cars, Triple Frontier got Maxwell Lord’s castoff he didn’t want to waste finances on anymore.

“Uh-oh, that’s your brooding face,” Frankie’s voice snaps Javi out of his thoughts, discovering his snow cone has begun melting, resembling a cup full of blood. He sets it down on the table, a little disgusted, and looks up to meet his teammate’s knowing gaze. “You were thinking shit about yourself again, weren’t you?”

“We all have bad habits,” Javi says simply and he sees Frankie’s brow crease, a flicker of sympathy in his brown eyes. But then he shrugs, back to his normal easygoing self.

“And we all have bad races.”

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HoloNet

October 2022 Latest News

Triple Frontier signs Ben Miller for 2023 F1 Season Weekly Motorsport News - 13 minutes ago

Formula 2 title favorite has been drafted as a Triple Frontier Formula 1 driver for the 2023 season…

10 facts about Triple Frontier’s new F1 driver Ben Miller Bubblefeed - 1 hour ago

There will be a second rookie on the grid next season joining Oddball…

Santiago Garcia believes Ben Miller is the next big star WWS - 2 hours ago

F1’s grid for 2023 is one driver closer to completion with the news of F2 driver Ben Miller making his debut with Triple Frontier…

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Prior to your F1 drafting announcement, you were used to being an insignificant presence at a Grand Prix when there wasn’t an F2 round. Maybe a few fans during the paddock tours would recognize you and say hi, maybe a reporter or two would ask for a quick quote about what it’s like being a reserve driver, but in general your race weekends were spent hanging out with Diana around the Vulpecula motorhome or chatting with the crew in the pit garage in-between moments of preparation without anybody taking a second glance at you.

Now that your face has been posted on the cover of a magazine and featured in countless articles you can barely even find privacy in the bathrooms without somebody calling out your name or whipping out their phones. Vivian laughs amicably when you tell her how strange the sudden spotlight of attention is, then claps you on the shoulder and simply says you’ll get used to it with time. There’s an unspoken you have to that your ears don’t miss.

It’s midmorning at the Boston circuit and the sky’s full of clouds—fluffy and white this time, nothing like the gloomy gray ones back in Colombia two weeks ago. The air’s a bit nippier than you’re used to the temperature being, but fortunately one of Vulpecula’s crewmembers is nice enough to lend you her extra sweatshirt. It’s soft and warm, the team’s logo of the fox constellation pasted on the back between your shoulder blades, and you make a mental note to ask somebody back at headquarters where you can get your hands on one of them.

You’re walking through the paddock, thinking about what you’re going to eat for lunch and paying just enough attention to your surroundings to keep out of the way of important-looking people in business attire. Each race seems to bring out a different crowd of the rich and famous depending on where in the world you are—politicians, celebrities, models, athletes of a variety of different sports. Your favorite is seeing former F1 drivers who have swung by to watch the event, socialize, and/or reminisce about how much things have changed since their seasons.

Anita Moreno has come out to four or five of this season’s races, both to visit with the racing community who love her dearly and to support her son on his journey to win another world title. You’re way too shy to even make direct eye contact with her, let alone speak to the woman who inspired you to keep chasing your dream of joining Formula 1. She’s twice as intimidating in person as she is on screen. Twice as funny, too. You always know when she’s around the second you hear laughter echoing throughout the paddock, loud and jovial.

Dave York has also been making frequent appearances, even before the official announcement was made he was returning to the sport next season. In hindsight, maybe more people should have put the pieces together sooner that his visits were for business reasons rather than for his own personal pleasure.

A glimpse of a familiar face catches your eye, stopping you in your tracks. Ben’s outside the Triple Frontier motorhome, chatting with Frankie Morales and Javi Gutierrez, making them laugh with a story or joke you’re too far away to hear. He’d told you earlier in the week the team CEO Santiago Garcia had invited him to a Grand Prix so he could see up close what a race weekend was like, but he’d neglected to inform you it was this GP.

Actually, now that you think about it, when you asked he had left you on read, the jerk.

Cupping your mouth with a hand, you shout out, “Benjamin Tiberius Miller, how dare you!”

The exclamation garners a couple dozen odd looks from those in the nearby vicinity, but your focus is entirely on Ben.

Ben who visibly flinches mid-sentence, shoulders drawing taut like rubber bands. He whirls around, eyes sweeping the crowd and passing over you before shooting back with recognition, narrowing with enough heat it’s a wonder your clothes don’t catch fire.

“How dare me?” he shouts back, pointing a finger at his chest before turning it on you indignantly. “How dare you! You were sworn to secrecy!”

“Oops, looks like I forgot!” You feign shock for a second, then let the expression drop into a deeply unimpressed look. “Just like you forgot to tell me you were coming out today!”

People are definitely looking now, glancing back and forth at your verbal tennis match with expressions ranging from wrinkled foreheads of bewilderment to wide grins of mirth. No doubt this will end up on Twitter or YouTube later.

Ben’s head rolls back and it’s hard to tell but you suspect he’s probably groaning like an obnoxious teenager. “Alright, fine, my bad I guess!” he relents, the closest he’ll ever come to apologizing. “I’ll come find you in thirty and we’ll get lunch.”

“You’re buying,” you call out with a thumb’s up.

Once again, it’s hard to tell due to the distance, but you’re pretty sure he just rolled his eyes before turning back around to face his extremely amused future teammate who now knows his detested middle name thanks to you. The payback from Benny will be absolute torture, no doubt about it, but you’re too happy with the knowledge you’re getting free lunch later to care too much about it at the moment.

Now that the show’s over, everybody resumes what they were doing before your squabbling interrupted them. Everybody except one very distinctive person.

Javi’s staring at you, and you can’t move. He’s wearing his dark green Triple Frontier race suit halfway undone, sleeves wrapped around his waist while the thin material of his white fireproofs clings to his broad torso and toned arm muscles. Apparently the cold air doesn’t seem to bother him as much as it does you, even as the breeze tousles his crown of messy curls. Pictures and video footage really don’t do his handsome features justice. He’s even better looking when seeing him with your own eyes. Perhaps the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

And you feel like a total idiot now, shouting at your friend like a madwoman, making the worst first impression of all time. It’d be wonderful if the ground swallowed you whole right now and spared you a painful death of humiliation.

Then the man offers a smile brighter than sunshine, holds up his hand and waves.

At you.

He’s waving at you and smiling, looking like the epitome of beauty.

And you—

You’re just staring back, arms limp at your sides, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Ground. Open. Now. Please.

Your hand shoots up just as he starts to lower his, waving back in a way you hope looks friendly and not at all like a preteen fangirl freaking out because one of her idols has acknowledged her. His smile, impossibly, brightens, and you find the sight too contagious to resist returning the grin with a wide one of your own.

When he turns back to the conversation with Ben and Frankie a moment later, you have to give yourself a little shake to force your legs to continue walking to the Vulpecula motorhome and not linger any longer gazing at his profile. As far as first meetings go, you think you can count this one as a positive experience, even if no words were exchanged.

And you think maybe, with any luck, you and Javi will get along fine next season.

#javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g fanfiction #my fic #my writing #pedrostories #javi gutierrez x you #javi g x you

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nerdygirlwithanxiety · 6 months

Text

Creeps rewrites information *not counting OCs*;

WILLIAM GROSSMAN

William was only 18 when he discover the underworld exsist. But has that " just because I see it doesn't mean i have to believe it exsist" mentalism..most likely developed it from his childhood friend Anthony

Fucking loves Christmas. Christmas = snow and snow means winter and winter means...snowboarding season

Great at snowboarding *its one of his favorite hobbies behind playing guitar and skateboarding *

You think his favorite idol would be a killer but ironically in this au he didn't get that mindset until laughing jack brainwashed him. His true idol happened to be a famous skateboarder called " Tex Eagle" his original goal before he wanted to be the greatest killer was to beat Tex's skateboarding record*s*

This said he's not really a fit guy persay he's more average. Not overweight but not under he's more of the middle. Most of the time he's lazy unless he's out doing tricks and shit *only time he's exercising *

He enjoys any kind of music but mainly listens to punk or hard metal

His voice headcanon is currently unknown

He's pansexual /demiromantic

Has a HUGE crush on Anthony but denies it completely

People call him a class clown until a fight broke out now nobody fucks with him. Infact they try to avoid him *he may or may not have almost killed someone before one of his friends pulled him back*

Despite him acting like a idiot at times he has a high IQ making him *EXTREMELY* smart. He built his first hoverboard at only 10 years

He's 5"7 like his Canon counterpoint however unlike that version his birthday is different. His dob is 6.18.01

He never was able to draw until he met the leader singer of his band *anthony obviously *

He could play any instrument but mostly prefer Guitar

His love rival is mercury black *another childhood friend in this au. Yes this is in the same universe as rwby don't judge me*

Will taunt Anthony with Christmas music every November...totally not because he gets kisses to shut him up

He was mostly stuck in the closet out of fear of rejection up until his 20s *that's how long he loved Anthony *

Nearly vomit out of anxiety when he found out about his homophobic violent grandfather Isaac

Just like in one of my rewrite au concept he's suffer from the Grossman curse *half human half demon* just didn't know about it. Only difference is Frankie isn't here to save him..

Short hair will supermarcy

Will's parents are actually very lovingly. His father is named Jax while his mother was named Mary. Their personality is basically like Madeline Fenton and Jack Fenton from Danny Phantom. Both very smart scientists that love eachother and kids. (More info on a separate post about the parents)

Has a fear of BLOOD . he faints everytime he sees at least ONE small drop

That's it for him rn. I may update this later

Frankie The Undead

Just like Canon he's just done with everyone's shit and doesn't want to deal with it

VERY sarcastic *while will's oblivious *

Thinks will's a bit naive

Hates and I mean HATES laughing Jack.

He's well aware he gets his wallet stolen from the idiots and kept extra incase after how many times they misplaced them...and his poor platinum credit cards

Both him and Dr Forenskin made a secret rebellion against Rosalyn *an antagonist you wont meet until...late...late..later on. Shes more important then Issac. Which tells you something* , Zalgo, and Slenderman.

It's a possibility that a certain grim reaper helped them build this rebellion before his " death"

Only once did he punch LJ and nearly broke his wrist *you won't know why yet*

He's secretly Anthony's guardian *kinda like how LJ is will's*

During the human realm arc ending and the beginning of the underworld arc he secretly leaves Anthony's notes on how to find the well to get to Will

Doesn't believe in redemption up until the God of redemption woke up then suddenly realized there was a habit to free all three realms and wake up the fourth.

Owns a hidden weapon room *he mainly uses twin pistols*

New design coming soon

Also has a Australian accent *same voice as mammon from the new helluva boss episode*

LAUGHING JACK

Out if pure irony broke the many walls beyond the fourth. Speaking of which he's well aware of that um...counterpart and cringes at it. So much so he nearly try to delete that universe but couldn't because of Frankie trying to avoid breaking the multiverse and tearing a hole into dimensions nearly killing everyone some point..it was before will and Anthony was born

Can and will dab for no reason

Instead of a clown he's just a shapeshifter that changes into a clown

Did canonically killed Issac just differently compare to how he originally killed him.

Wanted to torture will until he realize what his personality was like so he brainwashed and kidnapped him to his own dismay...mainly because he was bored

Absolutely hates color

Absolutely hates the rebellion but only stuck around for his little puppet

Legit if it weren't for Will as his cover the fucker would be dead by now.

Is a high level demon just not as high as Zango or slender or...HIM

He bleeds candy which was why he craves human blood and organs.

Despise clowns *ironic right?* whole reason he shape-shifting into one is because clowns are a common fear so fuck it. If it gets him victims to unalive he'll do it.

Injured will once learned his lesson immediately.

Can drive people into insanity

And since I wanna make him hateable; he thinks NFTs are hilarious and uses it to piss people off and claim it as a prank.

Legit he will fuck with everybody and uses what everyone's hates. Every. One.

This will get people excited for a underrated character;

DR Forenzik

He is still a scientist

He's basically the commanders of the rebellion while Frankie is the "leader" thinking the original leader died.

He did, in fact, Gave LJ and Will a job to mainly keep an eye on will

He has a Russian accent

Thanks to him traveling around the human realm over the years he devolped many accents and languages basically like mimicry *kinda had too if he wants to steal things from every science lab to get the shit he needs*

Would rather sleep in but everyone wakes him up so now he has that grumpy grandpa attitude like how Frankie has grumpy alchoholic uncle attitude

Cries and scream on the inside everytime will or lj breaks shit in his lab

Cringes ecerytime he hears Laughing Jack voices

" oh god its the beast that squeaks" ~ Devi from I Feel Sick *Johnny The Homicidal maniac spinoff*

Prefer classical music to help him think while experimenting.

And thats it for now. I may come up more later but for now this is it

#frankie creeps #frankie the undead #william grossman #laughing jack #dr forenzik #creepypasta au

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paradiecircus · 2 years

Text

Sometimes when I’m writing and leave my desk for even a moment, my kids leave me little gifts when I get back 🤣🤣🤣

#check that last sentence #lol #idk lmao #fanfic #fanfiction #true blood season 5 au #true death #true blood au #trubie #my sister sookie #sookie stackhouse

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myfavouritelunatic · 8 months

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💙

Awww thank you so much for this! ❤️

My five favourite fics I’ve written…

1. The Blacksmith - my epic Halbrand/Sauron x Reader (and Galadriel - LONG LIVE THE POWER POLYCULE) story that is to this day my longest fic ever. 102k! I’m so damn proud of it and am still in disbelief I even wrote it! Set during the events of The Rings of Power Season One and beyond, it’s a tale of love and destiny and how the two intertwine, for good and for evil.

2. Your Blood, Your Power - first time ever writing a modern AU (I used to avoid them and now that is NOT the case). Haladriel/Saurondriel Vampire AU that sees Gal as a huntress, tangled in lust (and love? 😜) with her evil vampire nemesis Hal. People have told me it reminds them of Buffy and True Blood and I’m just floored by that!!

3. I Felt It Too - a one shot that I’ve been asked to continue (I promise one day I will!). Haladriel/Saurondriel, basically what if they weren’t interrupted during that scene on the log before Orodruin erupted. 😏

4. Two Rings - two short companion pieces about Saurondriel, set during the Third Age. Their rings of power can’t help but remind them of each other and what they lost, what they could’ve had.

5. I’m sorry but I’m cheating and picking two because I CANNOT decide between them:

Shake Like the Bough of a Willow Tree - Human!Halbrand what if tale about Orodruin never erupting. From Hal’s POV (and I think I told someone recently I hadn’t written his POV before when duh of course I have). Haladriel one shot, inspired by the song Movement by Hozier.

And… Barred - Haladriel one shot, another what if, set during their brief time imprisoned together in Númenor. Basically a PWP 😂

#haladriel #saurondriel #halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand #sauron #galadriel #the rings of power #trop #trop fanfic #❤️❤️❤️

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onyourhyuck · 2 years

Text

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐊ᵃ𝐫𝐦𝐚. | Season 2

synopsis; park areum is a journalist who happens to get her life involved with the mafia leader war and havoc, lee jeno. areum’s brother was kidnapped by the japanese mafia na yuta and areum was able to successfully get jisung back— however with a price that she betrays lee jeno by selling out important information of his base whereabouts. it’s been a year ever since that day and areum happens to get involved in the mafia world again.

warning: mafia au/theme, thriller, action, romance, smut!!, lots of fighting here and mentions of blood, park areum is a bad bitch ykyk, dreamies are here for plot, love triangle!!!!, angst.. massive angst, death mentions of characters, alcohol mention, guns mention, switch!areum, switch Jeno!, rough kissing, gripping, degrading, praising, love scenes, unprotected seggs [wrap your willys sons pls, use it 😃], slowburn romance, prepare for a long ass ride.JEALOUSY, Exhibitionist scenes (almost caught etc) semi public scenes with sexual tension. PLOT TWISTS AND CLIFFHANGERS <3 THIS IS SEASON 2, CHECK SEASON 1 OUT BEFORE READING THIS SEASON PLSSSS.

PART 4 / 25. PART 5 LINK.

╭──────────────────────╮

areum sat in silence with hyuck in the same room. she took small glances to stare at the upset tan boy who did not bother to hide the emotions he was feeling. his lips part slowly, “are you— going to leave anytime soon?”

the statement was filled with curiosity and emotional intent, he somehow felt happy that areum did not leave on bad terms with jeno. areum looks up, surprise and shock written on her face. “not tonight, jeno wants me to stay over.”

hyuck slowly nods, tapping the feet in awkward manner. “I hope you leave soon.” this was meant to come out in an angry tone, instead it comes out with uncertainty and sadness. “just like you did before, without a goodbye.” he carries. areum reaches a hand over to haechan’s palms that were extended on, elbows resting on the thighs of his. their hands lightly touching.

“sorry hyuck, i didn’t necessarily have a choice.” areum softly told. hyuck nods understanding. “i figured that out today.” the boy was quick to speak, no longer tongue tied. “will i see you tomorrow?” he was quick to ask, he still wants to hear a confident answer from areum. the woman shown a small smile, “mhm i’ll be here.”

jeno walks inside at the sight, haechan pull away from areum with a bow to jeno. “i’ll take my leave.” the man nods patting hyuck’s shoulders, watching the boy leave them in the bedroom.

“i’ll take that as you and hyuck making up?” jeno raised his eyebrow, turning to areum fully. the woman wearing an oversized shirt covering the entire body reaching the inner thighs. he felt the seaming unholy thoughts rinse in the head, jeno’s eyes swimming about like fish as they were constantly moving around areum’s body. the woman felt his obvious eyes, a slight blunt answer coming.

“you’re checking me out.” areum said, the man in front quick to respond as if he was prepared to answer. “i am,” jeno shortly chuckled, “you can’t blame me, you look good.”

areum scoffing in bafflement quick, not believing a single thing he was saying to her. “you’re just saying that.” not only was she hungover, felt half dead from last night, body aching as if she did ten years worth of gym workout, she was raw exposed bare face. not aware of how much jeno loved seeing this side of areum the most.

upon hearing those words come out of areum, jeno wasn’t going to let the woman believe that, because it’s not true. jeno loves all the sides of areum. his body walks over to the bed where areum sat, her eyes seeing jeno walk over leaning down to her further; areum was quick to lay down on the bedsheets, with jeno crawling on top of areum. he’d smirk above, “i’m not just saying that, areum.”

the way her name rolls off his tongue left a shiver down her spine, areum watching jeno in observant manner. noticing the lovely freckle on one of his cheeks, fluffed up hair, the way his collarbones moved with his muscle hands side by side trapping areum underneath him in the position on the bed.

“i’m being serious.” he trails again, not able to contain himself any longer, his lips galloping to the jawline, smooching it there. moving down to the sensitive soft neckline, a trail of wet kisses given on areum. feeling the way areum was tensing up at such minor actions, it was a sign that she was enjoying it a little by little the more it carried on. areum allowing the neck kisses travel down to the collarbones exposed by the loose large shirt. this was more sensual than the night before, areum remembered.

the night before was full of emotions the two could not communicate over the year of being apart. something about it being mixed in with love and hate at the same time, this caused forgiveness between them to be mutual. jeno no longer felt like he was holding a grudge, areum was able to voice out her words without hurting jeno and he could do the same, without hurting areum. overall, the sexual tension was at its peak.

however now, this was way more sensual and rather calm. jeno was relaxed with areum here, the way his lips were both soft but direct, his body still held a controlling strength of wanting to dominate. areum was reciprocating back once a breathy moan escaped, responding to a sweet spot that jeno has worked his way on to, gently biting down and sucking. his ears begging to hear more senseless noises come out of the woman underneath him, it were like bewitching music to him.

“you’re so beautiful.” jeno states, not telling but making it a factual point as if there was no debate to hear other opinions. “you have me under your control and you don’t even realise that, areum” he softly mumbled against the kisses that fell down to the out of the open shoulder. this moment was very much therapeutic to them both, a very relaxing soft moment where there were communication involved.

areum murmurs out in plain wonder, “even if i wore a plastic trash bag?” she felt the man stop moving nearby the neck, warm breathe if laughter coming past the soft lips. “yes, even if you wore a plastic trash bag to seduce me.” with a response he was laughing, areum knitting eyes up at the smiling expression on jeno. he found it endearing to hear such obscured questions.

the sexual tension disappears the moment their loving eyes and wide grins met again, along with the funny question being asked, although it was a genuine question from areum, jeno answered it with both honesty and banter. areum smirks, “i’ll take notes then.” feeling the full vein hands walking up and down her thighs, inner thighs and under the thighs constantly, he was feeling her because he needed to; jeno longing to feel areum . “don’t be shocked to see me dressed in one, one day.”

the way his hands smoothly run along going up the thigh, lifting little bit of the fabric oversized shirt on the way, exploding the white lines of her bottom lingerie. jeno smirks hearing those words. “i’ll look forward to it.”

he would say as his lips lean down to areum, kissing them softly. their kiss consisting of deep emotional basis, areum slowly returning it back with her arms suddenly wrapping around jeno’s neck.

“I feel like i’m interrupting something.” a voice broke the kiss shared between jeno and areum. the boy was first to turn to the open door and by the frame, a doctor in white coat leaning as he was looking at them with a raised teasing eyebrow.

he always knew there was something going on between them.

areum was very much going timid, embarrassed and shy. she slightly sits up, wanting to go off the position however a hand gently pushes down on her stomach, making areum stay down, he slowly calms down rubbing her down to keep the anxiousness off. jeno was very much unbothered however.

“need anything hyung?” jeno casually throws out, kun shaking his head as his hand reaches for the doorknob. “don’t worry about it i can wait in the morning, remember to use protection that’s all” kun pauses pointing to the door. “and with close the door please, there are children around here.” he scolds like a mother catching his son with his girlfriend for the first time.

jeno turns to areum immediately being hit by a pillow that she grabbed nearby, he laughs seeing the redness on the girl’s face from the embarrassment. she can’t believe they forgot the door was open!

“yah why didn’t you close the door!” areum shouts, jeno putting his hands in surrender, catching the pillow areum threw at him as he was standing away from the bed now. “I forgot!” jeno tells.

areum huffs, “I’m going to bed.” she’d lay back into the bedsheets tucking her in the bed, sinking back on the comfortable sheets. jeno grins as he saw areum’s back to him. he crawls on the bedsheets sitting next to her, “round two isn’t happening?”

he’d lean to joke forward, hearing areum scoff in disbelief. “who said I’ll do round two with you?” areum said.

“you were pretty convinced few minutes ago.” jeno teased, watching areum turn to face him on the bed as jeno was laying down next to her, facing her too.

“be quiet i’m going to sleep.” areum demands in a minor huff, closing eyes. he hums softly, stroking some hair behind areum’s ears as he leans towards her to kiss her head. “alright big baby, sleep well.” jeno would tell.

he knew one thing for sure, he won’t be able to sleep. jeno will be watching areum’s peaceful face as she slept, keeping watch out on her and observing the woman. it’ll be a miracle if he could sleep.

early morning sunlight peaking through the closed blinds, areum snuggling deep onto jeno’s chest with arms tightly wrapped around the male; legs over his side, as jeno had one hand wrapping on areum’s hips with the peaceful snores emitting out.

areum waking up first, she was blessed to see the mafia leader look so endearing in his sleep. he had a small content happy smile plastered on in his sleep. she hums out, observing more of the situation.

‘he even has a cuter side to him, who could believe he was a mafia in this state?’ areum claims to herself.

then it hit areum. what time was it?

she turns around glancing at the alarm clock on the side of the bed, she was going to be late to work if she stayed any longer. areum sitting up with the covers off her body, jeno was quick to feel the sudden warmth disappearing.

he’d groan, waking up to seeing areum running around the room picking up the clothes.

“areum what are you doing up so early?” jeno sits up, the woman raises eyebrows opening the wardrobe. “I’m running late for work, mind if i steal a shirt from you?” she’d take the first shirt in her eyes, running towards the bathroom suite. jeno couldn’t process anything still with how half asleep he is.

“if you’re going to take it anyways why askkkk,” jeno lays back down on the bed, rubbing eyelids softly. it turns out he had the best sleep in over a year, he fell asleep almost immediately with areum next to him.

areum quickly runs out with her jeans but jeno’s white shirt , jeno looking over at the woman standing in front of the mirror as she fixes the hair. jeno stood up slowly coming from behind areum, arms latching around the waistline.

not even a mafia can wake up this early for work, who wakes up this early?

feeling his body weight leaning onto her, areum ghostly smiles at the actions, but the time was running fast. “i have to go, c’mon,” she softly tells and hears multiple protests from jeno who was burying his face in areum’s back.

“one minute please, i’m cold.” he complained with any random excuse he could think of, areum sighing out. “just go back under the duvet then,” she was quick to respond, jeno pouting.

“that’s not the same and you know it.” jeno replied, his hands slowly letting go off areum. “your boss is cruel, he’s making you wake up this early for what.” jeno scoffing, areum smirking. “it’s not that bad, anyways I’m going bye!”

“wait wait,” jeno said again, areum stopping on the tracks of walking away. “can i pick you up from work..?” he mutters almost nervously, areum tilting head at the boy. that’s strange, what for?

“Uhm, yeah, but you’ll have to drop me off at home then too.” areum said, jeno smiling at her words.

“okay, it’s a date then.”

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🫣 next part is going to be a wholesome date zone hehe.

and then a bit of a love triangle.

MASTERLINK FOR HIS KARMA

@onyourhyuck please refer from copyrighting and plagiarising my work!

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #his karma #jeno smut

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