#Roman will make them all his knights in the end!

[loganslowdown4]

*Logan kneels*

Roman: *taking out his sword* I knight thee Sir Logan of Logos, in the name of the father-

Patton: *waves*

Roman: -the son-

Virgil: *dabs*

Roman: -and the unholy spirits.

Janus & Remus: *demonic screeching*

[joesanrio]

Attitude | R.R

Summary: Roman’s already having a problem with LA Knight, so why are you giving him attitude too?

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Fem!reader || established relationship

Warnings: bratty!reader, Dom!roman, mentions: past fights, use of wrestling name, ignoring, reader needs physical touch, pet names, p-in-v (unprotected), cowgirl!mode, boring!missionary (in joe’s opinion), kissing, begging, etc not edited

Word Count: 651

Ratings: 18+ | Angst, Smut

A/N: I have so many ideas after crown jewel but I take so long to write them you probably won’t want it anymore :/

———————————————————

“What’s your problem?” Roman complains as he makes his way to you backstage, rolling your eyes at the scuffed up man. His eyes falling from yours to the tight fan merch of his that you got tailored into a crop top, tits filling the shirt perfectly.

“What problem?” You huffed before shrugging as his hand grabs yours quickly, “You have an attitude problem. I just got stomped out and you’re back here huffing and puffing at me.” Roman says before pulling your body into his private locker room.

Eyebrows furrowing as you stared blankly at him, “Now you’re quiet?” His voice deep as he observes your face. “I don’t have an attitude. Now let’s go before I miss-“ “No we aren’t going anywhere until you tell me.” Roman interrupts, large hands wrapped around your waist to prevent you from leaving.

A long sigh leaving your lips, you just wanted to enjoy the show. “I’m just tired… and I don’t like seeing you get beat up.” Lips falling into their natural pout as your eyes avoid his uncertain gaze, his long finger pulling your chin softly to look at him.

“Know what, I’ll deal with you later.” Roman’s voice deep as he whispers the warning into your ear with ease. Smirking at your surprised expression when he hears his name called by some of the producers.

His hand giving you a small tap on the ass before he leaves you in the locker room alone, flustered and tired. The silence becoming overbearing as you quickly leave after him, you needed him. Now.

———

“I’m always so proud of you. You always get the crowd to react…but I have a question.” You can’t help but ramble about how exciting tonight was, especially because you got this random boost of energy.

Roman knew it wasn’t random, he knew it was because you were finally able to be within touching distance of him all night. Your love language being physical touch was one of the things he didn’t think he had to worry about until it affected your whole mood.

“Are you still mad at me? Why aren’t you saying anything.” Eyes saddened as you wait for a response, though he continues to keep silence.

Lips pouted out as you watch him, “RoRo?” a soft whisper causing his head to turn towards you immediately.

“I’m pissed.” Is all he says before his large hand comes up to tug at the bottom of your top, “If it makes you feel better, you really turned me on..” You whisper-blurt out as he lets out a airy chuckle.

His hand falling from your shirt to rest on the inside of your thigh, thumb rubbing your soft skin up and down. You could feel the red panties your wearing, soak at his delicate touch. Eyes sultry as you look at him, mouth slightly ajar before leaning onto his shoulder in hopes to control yourself.

The car ride feeling forever, you didn’t want to end on a bad note with him because he was supposed to be going to Saudi Arabia alone tomorrow. “Are you actually going to go alone?” You complain quietly in his ear as his hand lands a soft smack onto your thigh.

[Presidential Suite; 12:01am]

Bouncing up and down his cock, reverse cowgirl, was the best part of your night. Hands down on the bed in front of you, between Roman’s spread out legs. Ass poked out behind you as you work yourself up and down his long, thick cock.

Not worried about the small squeaks of the bed or how Roman’s hands are palming over your hips to pull you down while he thrusts up. “Please! Fuck- Ro… your cock is so big.” A moan escapes your lips while your juices coat his cock perfectly, a white ring forming along him nicely.

“Only if you didn’t have that attitude.” He chuckles as his legs bend to put more force into his thrusts, putting you off rhythm. Short, loud squeals leaving your make-out swollen lips, body wanting to collapse as Roman works his cock amazingly up into you.

“Damn, your ass looks great from this angle.” He teases as his hand goes to push your back down a bit more, ass jiggling in his face without mercy. The arch in your back emphasizes your small waist, hair curly as it bounces down your back.

Almost makes Roman cum right then by just looking at you, but he’s still debating on whether to fuck you all right now and leave you or have you come with him and fuck you in Saudi Arabia.

“Roman… S’good. Please I’m sorry!” Your pretty voice moans as your pussy clenches along his cock that’s fucking you into oblivion.

Roman forgot why you were even apologizing, he’s so out of it. “You are? I don’t know…” He teases before stopping his thrust completely, making you want to scream in frustration.

“Baby! I was so close.” You whined as your hips pull you off his thick cock, now feeling empty and soaked waiting for him to come back. “Hush. I’m just tryna see that pretty fucked out face.” Roman coos as you switch positions to lay in front of him. Tits still concealed in his tailored merch shirt, full and round.

“Fuck! I need to get you more shirts huh? He groans as he enters your sopping pussy, not even paying attention to his question as your back arch’s off the bed.

His hand going under your top to play with your hard nipples, eyes going to meet his as he rocks his hard cock into you slowly.

“I love your cock so much.” You say absentmindedly as you clench around him, his pace picking up at the compliment. “I know you do.” He moans as his hand leaves your breast to play with your clit, eyes closing tightly as your body goes into overload.

The air becoming thick and hot, breathing erratic before you cum onto his cock. Ears ringing as you try to control your breathing, only before Roman’s soft lips captures yours.

Arms wrapped around his shoulder to pull him closer, his arms no longer holding him up as his hands rest into your soft hips.

“Don’t pass out on me, we need to pack.” His voice finally registers in your ear when he pulls away from the kiss.

[whereserpentswalk]

Fae do not have a concept of good and evil. But they do have a concept of fair and unfair. They are creatures of politeness and impolitness. Even when they're doing things that would be horrifying to humans, they do these things with a specific set of rules around them.

Most of their weaknesses are only weaknesses because they see them as making things fair. Fae are physically capable of lying, but they consider it cheating to lie to someone who isn't familiar with the fae. Likewise, fae can create unbreakable curses or unsolvable puzzles, but it's considered improper to do so. Even their material weakness works this way, if a fae is cut by an iron sword they'll but hurt by it because it was the polite thing to do.

They'll also always match the power level of any human who wanders into the fae realms, so the human in question never meets a challenge they can't overcome. When a knight of the Holy Roman Empire and his men tried to conquer part of the fae realms in 1126 the fae fought like medieval soldiers, using tactics and strategies that would be clever and strange but understandable to him and his men, the numbers of warriors never being too much for him to defeat, even when he could. And when the D.T.L paranormal containment organization sent in modern soldiers with firearms and gas masks to assassinate the fae Queen of Winter Dawn in 2004, the fae responded accordingly, with ranged weapons, and hit and run tactics, that a modern commander could play off of. And, in 1873, when three children got lost in the fae realms, deeper then any human who had been lost there before or after, the fae filled their path of peril with puzzles and traps that the children could solve. One of the children ended up having her eyes turned into spiders, and all of them were traumatized, but it's the fairness the counts to the fae. When you're billions of years old you just care about different things.

And of course. There are some fae that break the rules, fae who will truly do everything in their power to affect the world. These fae are useally exiled from the fae realms, to far off and desolate planes, where they wander and seek power. They are truly terrifying creatures, though in the places they are sent they can rarely use their power. Few who encounter them who aren't their loyal servents escape with both their lives and their humanity.

And of course, fae politeness isn't universal. It applies to humans, and to other fae, and to some other entities. But when there's a true threat to the existence of the fae they will use everything in their power to stop it, polite or impolite. When the star spawn and the great old ones attempted their invasion of the fae in 700MYA they were very promptly destroyed, and pushed back using horrors humanity can't comprehend, horrors the star spawn could barely comprehend. And when the demons on the 8th abyss attempted their invasion in 10MYA they were given almost an equal horror, spared only from pure destruction because they fae found such creatures to be useful.

[j-the-latter-gay-saint]

Rating artistic depictions of Captain Moroni by how hot he is

Captain Moroni Raises the Title of Liberty, Arnold Friberg

A classic! Not bad looking, but there is a certain something about him that makes me want to know his whereabouts on January 6, 2021. 5/10

For the Blessings of Liberty, Scott M. Snow

Strangely enchanting, glaringly caucasian as he is. Somehow I am put in mind of sapphic lady knights like Joan of Arc and Cassandra Pentaghast and Chappel Roan. At the same time he looks like a regular from the Hallmark movie casting stables playing younger than his age. 6/10

Moroni and the Title of Liberty, Clark Kelley Price

Look at that bicep! Look at that tease of thigh! Look at that beard! But WHY does your armor look so Roman?? 7/10

Title of Liberty, Ken Corbett

Oh this guy was DEFINITELY at the capitol. 2/10

A Letter from Pahoran, Jerry Thompson

Another classic! ...Tell me I'm not the only one who sees "child of Dennis Quaid and DeForest Kelley." It's...it's odd. I don't know. The end result is Just Some Guy. 4/10

Come Forth, Walter Rane

You can't fool me! I know Matt Mercer when I see him! Not his best angle, though, especially with the strain from yelling. 6/10 (*Note: this score is not applicable to Matt Mercer himself.)

Captain Moroni and the Title of Liberty, Larry Winborg

The first time I saw this painting was a small, slightly off-colored paper cutout on a bulletin board at church, and I thought Moroni's face was much rounder and I was delighted at the prospect of a Moroni who looked a little chubby, known bear enjoyer that I am. Alas, I was wrong. But he's still quite handsome. 8/10

Young Captain Moroni, Lester Yocum

Oh, hello! An artist who remembered Moroni was in his twenties when he was appointed to his position! See that determination in those lovely dark eyes! Oh, and the curly hair! 8/10

Morianton's Maidservant and Captain Moroni, James H. Fullmer

First of all, we love a man who respects women. See that kindness in his expression. He is so strong, but being so gentle with his strength. Second of all: Daddy. He's got MUSCLE, and not in the bodybuilder way like some of these other paintings. Look at that nose just made for kissing, that hair just made for brushing strands out of his face, that beard just made for gently scratching your cheek. 10/10 PLEASE come sweep me off my feet and demand better of my government.

Send me more...Captain Moronis? Captains Moroni? Copies of Captain Moroni. And I'll rate them, too!

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - Unexpected visitors

Oooookay first drabble based on the silly au idea I had :D

I decided to make it into short parts so that I can (hopefully) post faster than if I made big parts, so that's why it's kinda short

This one is written from Dust's pov so I won't translate what anyone says so you can have an authantic experience just like Dust :) (unless you speak French, Old French, Old Norse and Latin of course)

Btw it was hell to find a descent translator for Old French so Cross won't be speaking much lmao (neither will Horror but he's just not much of a talker to begin with)

Next

@ancha-aus come here :3

One exhausting day added to the list, Dust internally sighed as he opened the door to his appartment with a creaking noise. He lived in an old building on the first floor, almost half of the stuffs were broken but at least he didn't have many neighboors and he had a little backyard so he could touch some grass on the week-end. He didn't have enough money to move out anyway so he wasn't going to complain. It was a small appartment, you entered with the kitchen on the right and two doors on the left, the first leading to the bathroom and the second to the bedroom, and in front of you was the living room with a couch, a table and a few chairs, the TV was on the wall in front of the couch. The door to the small square shaped backyard was on the opposite wall, in front of the entry door. It was small but more than enough for the skeleton living alone.

He put his bag on the kitchen counter, took off his shoes and fell flat on his couch. He had to eat, but he just wanted to rest a little before he gathered the energy to get up and go cook. He was just going to take a quick ten minutes nap.

He woke up with a light shining bright through his window, was it already morning ? Did he sleep on his couch again ? He looked up, rubbing his eyesockets as he grumbled, but the light didn't seem to come from the sun, it was to bright and too white, it looked like a neon light from a big spot, which he didn't have any near or in his backyard.

- What the fuck... ?

The light disappeared when he stood up, for a moment he contemplated going back to sleep, but he quickly changed his mind when he heard speaking, or more precisely screams, coming from his garden. Did someone break in ? He swiftly went to grab a knife in his kitchen and slowly opened his curtains to take a quick look outside, to see how many they were so he could call the cops.

- Wh-

He was speachless in front the scene happening before him. Did a cosplay parade broke into his backyard ? Why the hell were there a knight, a viking, some roman and a sort of prince in his garden ? And why were they all screaming at each other in languages that he couldn't understand ? Wait were those real weapons ?

He opened the door, and everyone looked at him, having stopped yelling. They all looked at each other for a while, no one making any move, at least Dust had time to analyze them. They were all skeletons, the roman was dressed in a dirty brown tunic with a leather bag around the waist and two knives in his hands, a black liquid was dripping from his empty sockets. The viking was tall and massive, dressed in thic furr clothes, pobably for the winter, he had an axe that was as tall as him, a hole in his skull and a big shining red eye, his whole look screamed intimidating. The knight was, well, dressed as a knight in an armor and holding a sword, he had a red scar underneath his right socket and mismatched eyelights, behind him was the last skeleton, a black one, dressed very elegantly in purple clothes, looking like a noble more than a prince as he wasn't wearing any crown. Their costumes looked really well made, they definitely had a good budget.

The roman was the first to talk.

- Ubi sum et qui estis ?

- What ? Speak English man.

Dust answered, not understanding a word of what that stranger just said. The roman repeated slower.

- Ubi sum et qui estis ?

- English, dude, English.

Dust asked again. Damn, these cosplayers really went all out didn't they ? The noble sighed, visibly even more irritated than Dust.

- Il essaie de vous demander où il se trouve et qui nous sommes, vous ne parlez donc pas le latin ?

Okay that sounded like French. Dust didn't speak French.

- Do none of you speak English ?

He asked, but received no response. The knight spoke, looking confused.

-Je ne comprens mie.

That sounded like French too, a weird version of French. Dust looked at the viking.

- You. You speak English ?

- ᛇᛋᛏᛖ ᚲᛖ ᚹᛟᚢ ᛞᛁᛏᛖ ?

- Damn okay that's worse.

It now seemed very apparent that none of them spoke English, which made the situation even weirder, and harder to manage too.

- Okay wait here for a second.

Dust instructed them before going back inside, grabbing his phone, and going back outside where no one had moved, various looks of confusion spreading on their face.

- You, French guy, come here.

He pointed to the noble who looked at him like he just insulted his mother, but still he approached him, the knight following him while keeping an eye on the others.

- Okay speak.

He said, holding out his phone opened on the Google Translate page. The noble looked at his phone, visibly confused.

- Qu'est-ce que cette.. chose.. que vous tenez ?

The translation appeared on the screen: "what is that thing you're holding ?" it said. Wait, he didn't know what a phone was ? The situation might be even more complicated than what Dust initially thought. He quickly typed his answer and clicked on the vocal command, asking the other who he was and where did they all come from.

- Mon nom est Nightmare, je suis un noble du grand Royaume de France et je vous prierais de ne point m'associer à ces.. personnages, dont je ne connaissais pas l'existence il y a de cela un instant.

He answered, looking at the others with disdain. The translation arrived. His name was Nightmare, he came from the Kingdom of France and was a noble, and he apparently didn't know who these people were. Dust typed another question, this time asking in which century they currently were, he had a thought, but wanted to be sure, because it sounded very absurd, but again, the situation in itself was absurd.

- Le dix-septième, évidemment, comment ne savez-vous point cela ?

The seventeenth. He thought he was in the seventeenth century, in the French kingdom, and didn't know what a phone was. Judging by how everyone looked and talked, they were probably also from different centuries. What happened for them to end up here ?

Dust sighed, for now, he could at least ask for their name.

- Okay so he is Nightmare, and I am Dust, you, who are you ?

Dust asked, pointing at Nightmare and then himself before pointing at the roman who looked at him with confusion.

- Him Nightmare, me Dust, you ?

The roman didn't talk. Nightmare sighed again, looking more and more annoyed with everything.

- Rogat quod nomen tibi est.

- Oh, nomen meum Killer est.

He finally answered, in a language that Dust's phone recognized to be Latin and which Nightmare seemed to be fluent in. Then Nightmare turned to the Knight.

- Vostre nom.

- Je me nome Cross, vostre altece.

Nightmare then turned to the viking, but didn't talk this time, he just stared, the viking however seemed to understand what they were all doing as he answered with his name.

- Horror.

Nightmare turned to Dust, looking at him with a very smug smile on his face, clearly showing his languages skills as he could apparently speak French, some variant of French, and Latin. He seemed to be the only one able to do that aside from Dust's phone.

- Oookay, so Nightmare the noble, Cross the knight, Killer the roman and Horror the viking, great.

Dust sighed, really hoping that all that was just a dream and he would wake up soon, but if it was really just a dream, his head wouldn't hurt like that.

- I'm going back inside, you.. uh.. can come in if you promise not to kill each other and not to turn my appartment into a mess, well, a bigger mess.

He said as he typed on Google and let the French translation be heard. Nightmare listened, looked up at Dust, looked at his appartment with an almost repelled expression on his face, and looked back at the skeleton like he was making fun of him.

- Vous voulez que j'entre dans cette étable ?

Nightmare asked, the translation asking Dust if he wanted him to enter this stable, referring to his apartment. Frenchie was a bitch, noted.

- It's all I have, unless you want to stay outside.

He told him. Nightmare sighed when he heard the translation but didn't reply, letting Dust translate in Latin and Old Norse that he invited everyone inside on the condition that they didn't make a mess or kill each others.

Killer was the first to go in, putting his knives back in his bag, visibly not worried that it might be a trap, he just went to explore this new place. Cross stayed by Nightmare's side, they might not have known each other but Cross was a knight and Nightmare was a noble, it made sense for him to stay close to him, it was his duty to protect him. Horror seemed suspicious, but seeing how Dust seemed genuine and not much of a threat he decided to enter too, much more carefully than Killer. Dust looked at them pass by him and turned to face the last two, waiting for them to enter as well. Cross went in first, inspected the inside before coming out again and talking to Nightmare who stayed outside.

- Il n'i a auncun dangeor, vous poez entrer.

Nightmare looked at him for a few seconds without moving before finally following the knight inside. Dust guessed he must have told him the place was safe.

With everyone inside Dust went back in and closed the door. They all looked at him, waiting for him to say something.

Well.

Dust didn't know what to say.

Why didn't he just stay asleep ?

[queer-ragnelle]

i’m new to arthuriana but love your posts nonetheless

i am just curious about the many references to gawain sleeping with so many people when, to my understanding, in sir gawain and the green knight he specifically breaks this promiscuous behaviour and makes sure he doesn’t sleep with the wife of the duke

(i apologize if this is a stupid question!)

hello anon!

welcome to arthuriana and thank you so much for the kind words. this is not a stupid question at all! the truth is gawain is nothing if not inconsistent between texts haha. he's different from other knights such as lancelot who pines solely for guinevere across text after text, in that it seems every author wanted to create their own special gal for gawain. he therefore has numerous women attached to him, and when readers try to reconcile those many texts into a single story thread, it gives the impression our mans gawain gets around! (and he does!) i have several examples here to illustrate this so i'll put it below a cut.

for all the textual variance, sir gawain and the green knight is the exception that proves the rule—meaning that it's perhaps the only text in which gawain is abstinent. we know this because one of the five virtues attributed to the five points of his pentacle crest on his shield is chastity.

furthermore, on the wife's second seduction attempt, gawain pleas his own inexperience with "love" (ie: women).

whether or not that's true is up for debate, but it's worth mentioning, as it's a departure from other texts where his virile prowess is well-known, and in the knight of the two swords, he openly boasts about his own attractiveness and popularity. (humble guy, that gawain!)

there are several examples of gawain's reputation with the ladies preceding him and actually benefitting his odds of getting laid. one of my favorites is from lancelot part II in the vulgate. gawain had just cured his brother agravaine of an illness and agravaine's amie basically wingwoman's her sister.

goated of her. so gawain pencils it in on his calendar. later, he locates the castle, sneaks in, and succeeds in bedding the maiden. she's not named here, although malory later refers to her as "the lady of lys," and accredits her as the mother of gawain's three sons, (although the couple never formally wed).

among the strangest of examples is the middle english text the carle of carlisle, in which the carle brings gawain to the bedchamber and orders him to make out with his wife. but things quickly heat up...

so the carle stops gawain from outright cuckholding him, then leads gawain to his daughter's chambers, gives them his blessing, and locks them inside. at the end of the text, gawain marries her.

now i would be remiss not to mention my beloved the wedding of sir gawain and dame ragnelle. i think it's notable that ragnelle specifically asks for gawain by name, much like the lady of lys did (according to her sister and her warm reception of him).

now the conclusion of this poem brings us to another theme of gawain's which ties into his many partners, and that is his consistent subservience to ladies. he breaks the curse on ragnelle by granting her "sovereignty" in the relationship. this seems to be another aspect of character which sets gawain apart from other knights, as this is not a chaste expression of courtly love, but a precursor to fornication, and draws the attention of strong-willed ladies, such as ragnelle, with whom he is "a coward," or according to the translation notes, "submissive."

then again in roman van walewein, he's already famous by the time he meets his ladylove, ysabele, and whilst tied up in her father's prison, he leaves the decision of his own life in her hands.

which then results in their coming together because this is a gawain story and he always gets the girl.

even in the post vulgate, which we can all agree portrays every single character at their absolute worst (and is therefore invalid<3), gawain's choice of words consistently upholds the lady's desires above his own. at first, gawain intended wingman for pelleas by pretending he, pelleas, was dead to begrieve arcade. he discovers instead that she's elated by pelleas's supposed passing, so she and gawain fall in love. but even after admitting his feelings, he still takes great pains to frame the final crossing of that line as her choice, and only relents when she makes her intentions plain.

he might also just like it when women boss him around if his treatment from orgeluse in parzival by wolfram von eschenbach is any indication.

similarly to the knight of two swords, in parzival, gawain is aware of his fame, fosters it, and then employs his orgeluse brain worms as a motivation for sparing lives instead of like...morality.

i think what's particularly interesting about gawain's relationship history is that many of his partners are named, whereas it's pretty common for damsels and maidens in medieval texts to exist without identities of their own. there are so, so many named, interesting, fully developed women linked to gawain, it's actually pretty awesome! here are a few more:

lunette in yvain: knight of the lion by chrétien de troyes...

amurfina in the crown by heinrich von dem türlin...

bloiesine in the 4th perceval continuation by gerbert de montreuil...

marjorie in gawain and marjorie by oscar fay adams (if we extend our search through the 20th century!)...

and on and on forever! so in conclusion, gawain has been pulling bitches for many hundreds of slutty, slutty years, and from what modern retellings i've read, authors have no intention of interrupting this trend. i hope that helps clear things up somewhat. thanks for the ask!

[homoeroticbetrayal]

Iconic Homoerotic Betrayal: Round 3

Poll Directory

Context:

Judas/Jesus

Summary by Clock

Judas sold Jesus to the Romans for 13 pieces of silver. He signaled the Romans and marked out Jesus amongst the disciples with a kiss. (He could have just pointed and said "that's Jesus" but he decided to kiss Jesus one last time.) He later hung himself, the 13 pieces of silver laid unspent by his feet.

Lelouch/Suzaku

Summary by Anonymous Contributor

szll is already iconic but I'm just going to list all their betrayals (and perceived betrayals) as a refresher:

(first, for context, one thing you gotta understand is lelouch, leader of the rebellion who believes ends justify the means, is also the discarded prince of the empire he's fighting against. suzaku, rising knight of the empire who believes means have to justify the ends, is the son and killer of the prime minister of the country being oppressed. this is PEAK narrative foils and enemies-to-lovers recipe right there.)

- lelouch and nunnally were sent to japan as political hostages. britannia takes over japan quickly after and lelouch, knowing how much japan means to suzaku, promises to destroy britannia. suzaku should be angry at britannia! lelouch will free them!! except years later he learns that suzaku is now WORKING for the empire? he's becoming a KNIGHT for the empire, betraying his own country and their shared hatred for britannia. what the fuck, what happened to principles, suzaku? this is lelouch's first (perceived) betrayal.

- lelouch (accidentally) kills euphemia, the only princess who's trying to make peace with the japanese, the princess that suzaku is knight of, the princess suzaku LOVES and lelouch adores. now yes, this was an accident, but lelouch ROLLS WITH IT and lets suzaku and the rest of the world believe that it was intentional, thus fully driving that knife deep. he never tells suzaku this was an accident. this is suzaku's most painful betrayal.

- suzaku finds out lelouch is zero, leader of the rebellion, and turns him in to his evil dad, emperor of the empire, in exchange for becoming a knight of round (the highest military status). now if you count akito the exiled as canon, this also means sending lelouch to be BRAINWASHED into serving the empire as a master tactician before R2 happens. suzaku monitors him all throughout, watching lelouch destroy nations and praise the empire against his own principles.

this is just season one of code geass. this doesn't even touch how suzaku is also forced to betray his own loyalties/principles sometimes whenever the "live" geass that lelouch condemns him with acts up. how suzaku would monitor lelouch and keep deceiving him that rolo is his beloved sibling, not nunnally. etc etc.

AND YET despite all of this, code geass culminates with them SWEARING LOYALTY to each other, with lelouch becoming the demon emperor and suzaku becoming his right-hand man, the knight of zero. lelouch becomes a tyrant that suzaku is destined to kill. lelouch brings peace to the world but will never be able to live in it. he will always be remembered as the dictator, the scourge of the world. suzaku atones for all his sins by being reduced to a heroic symbol, by being punished to kill his best friend and never becoming suzaku the person ever again. with the "live" geass, he is cursed to never die, never to escape, always bearing both of their sins -- the eternal punishment he has been seeking. and by killing lelouch, he is able to avenge euphemia in the end, and bring the peace all three of them desired.

code geass is a hot mess but there is poetry in their betrayals. they are thematically bound to live this tragedy, and that is why they are iconic. the ending of code geass is well-known and highly regarded as one of the most iconic endings ever, and it can only ever be so because it stands on the love and loss and betrayals of suzaku and lelouch.

See other descriptions of Suzalulu

[acknowledge-reigns]

No Yeet (Roman Reigns x Fem!OC SMUT) 18+

Description: Roman hates the word yeet. His bratty sub loves to push his buttons.

Warnings: Dom/sub dynamic, bratty sub, pet names (babygirl, princess, baby. Lil, short for Lilith...), light degradation (use of the word slut), orgasm control and denial, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing, begging, edging, spanking, aftercare, fluff at the end, tiny bits of angst if you squint.

Kayfabe compliant. This is a story about Roman, not Joe.

18+!!!! MDNI!!!!

Face claim is Megan Thee Stallion.

See my other stories here.

It had been a couple of months now since the press conference where Jey and Cody had affectionately been dubbed 'team yeet' by the fans, due to Jey's obsessive ussage of the word and getting even Cody, although in a drunken state at the time, on the 'yeet' train as well. It was like overnight the word was re popularized, amongst the WWE Universe and the wrestlers in the locker room at least.

Two Months. Eight weeks of hearing that damn word non stop. Roman had lost count of the amount of times he's yelled at Jimmy not to say yeet, simply explaining "I don't like that".

That explanation was a hell of a lot easier than the deeper reasoning.

He missed Jey. His little cousin, his right hand man. While Roman refused to admit that he was in anyway jealous of Cody, he refused to utter that word. That word was a symbol of betrayal. Of his cousin leaving him and aligning with the enemy.

A lot has happened as of late. More recruits to the bloodline. Specifically a newly signed Lilith "The Vixen" Obsidian.

Fresh out of the independent circuit but with plenty of experience, Lilith knew what she was doing. Not just that but she practically grew up with Roman and The Usos. They had been close childhood friends. She and Roman had shared their first kiss, went to prom together and so much more.

There was never a question of where her loyalties lie. The two had gone their seperate ways after high school with no hard feelings at all. They just wanted different things in life at the time. Roman was pursuing football, and Lilith was ready to begin a wrestling career.

Fast forward and years later, Lilith couldn't have gotten signed to WWE at a more perfect time. With the bloodline's rivals growing more powerful by the day something had to he done.

The minute Rhea Ripley sat in Roman's locker room and said for Paul, Roman's Wiseman, to acknowledge her.. That was when Roman knew it was time to make the call. Lilith of course eagerly agreed to join the bloodline and handle any potential drama and disrespect from Rhea. And things grew from there.

Feelings were quickly rekindled. It started as a one night thing. Roman needed to blow off some steam, Lilith was ready and willing. So they had sex. From there it moved on to friends with benefits. Any time either of them were in need of pleasure, the other was one call away.

It continued to grow though until eventually Roman asked Lilith to be his girlfriend. And she said yes.

Roman sat in the chair in his locker room, Lilith perched in his lap playing with his long gorgeous mane.

"Yeet" Jimmy says

"I already told you, I don't like that." Roman snapped. To be fair he was already frustrated as hell with LA Knight of all people having the audacity to challenge him. And he'd hurt his finger in the process of the scuffle with that nobody, to say he was in a pissy mood was an understatement.

Lilith though, ever the brat didn't miss a beat seeing the look on his face. She looks directly in his eyes with a challenging smirk.

"Yeet" Lilith says as if daring him. You could hear a pin drop in that locker room.

"Everybody but Lilith, out. NOW." Roman's voice boomed. Lilith giggled, clearly amused with herself as Solo, Jimmy and Paul quickly headed out of the room at the tribal chief's command.

As the door closes, Roman faces Lilith. With a determined look on his face, he takes a step towards her, his dominant aura emanating from every pore. Lilith's eyes widen slightly.

Roman firmly grabs Lilith's wrist, his grip both gentle and commanding. Lilith's heart races, her bratty facade crumbling under the weight of Roman's dominance.

Standing in front of her, Roman leans in, his voice low and authoritative. "Now babygirl, I know you know better than breaking your tribal chief's rules." he spoke.

Roman maintains his dominant stance, his eyes locked with Lilith's as he contemplates the appropriate punishment for her bratty behavior. He smirks, sensing her nervous anticipation.

With deliberate slowness, Roman reaches out and gently brushes a strand of Lilith's hair behind her ear, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. He leans in closer, his warm breath grazing against her earlobe as he whispers, "You know, I think you need a reminder of who's in control here."

Roman's hand trails down Lilith's neck, his fingertips grazing her collarbone, before slowly sliding underneath her shirt. His touch is both firm and tender, igniting a mixture of pleasure and anticipation within her.

Roman's eyes gleam with a mix of mischief and dominance. He leans in, his lips grazing against her earlobe, his warm breath tickling her skin yet again. "You've been a very naughty girl, Lilith," he murmurs, his voice dripping with a potent mixture of authority and desire.

"You remember your Safeword, Princess?" Roman asks.

"Oreo" Lilith stated.

"Good girl." Roman responds as his hands move lower, skimming over the curve of Lilith's waist before slipping underneath the waistband of her pants. His touch is tantalizingly light as he traces circles along her hip bones, teasing but never fully satisfying her growing need. Each touch leaves her craving more, her body yearning for release. Once he pulls his hand away, he relievers delivers two quick slaps to her ass.

He leans back slightly, his eyes locked with hers, relishing in the sight of her desperation. "You see, Lilith, I am the one who decides when and how you receive pleasure, I'm the one who makes all the decisions around here." he says, his voice a low growl.

Roman's lips curl into a smug smile "You want my touch, don't you, Lilith?" he whispers, "You're craving it, yearning for it. But you gotta learn, babygirl." he muttered.

Roman's fingers trail along the edge of Lilith's pants again, teasingly close to where she desires him the most. He watches as her breath quickens, her eyes pleading for his touch. However, he remains steadfast, denying her the relief she so desperately seeks.

"Tell me, Lilith," Roman continues, his voice dripping with authority. "Tell me how much you need me. Beg for my touch."

Lilith's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and desire as she hesitates for a moment before complying with Roman's command. With a trembling voice, she whispers, "Please, my tribal chief... I need you. I need your touch. Please."

Roman's grip tightens ever so slightly on her waist, his dominance palpable. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. "But I'm not finished with you. Strip." he added.

Roman watches with lustful eyes as Lilith begins to strip for him immediately. He couldn't help but grin, she probably thought he was going to let her cum. She would be wrong.

For the next couple of hours He pushes her to the brink of climax repeatedly, only to deny her release.

With a calculated touch, Roman continues to tease Lilith's body, his fingers tracing a maddening path along her sensitive skin. He brings her to the edge of climax, skillfully manipulating her pleasure until she's on the verge of losing control.

Just as Lilith's body trembles with anticipation, Roman withdraws his touch, denying her the satisfaction she craves. A whimper escapes her lips, a mixture of pleasure and frustration. Her eyes plead with him, silently begging for release. She was laid back on the couch, her legs spread wide displaying her glistening pussy and allowing his fingers and mouth to work their magic.

He continues to repeat the tantalizing cycle, each time bringing her closer to the edge before abruptly stopping. The waves of arousal crash over Lilith again and again, intensifying her desire and driving her to the brink of madness

"You're mine, Lilith," he whispers as his fingers pump in and out of her pussy with a steady rhythm. "Your pleasure, your release, everything belongs to ME."

Lilith's breath quickens, her body yearning for release. "Please" she whimpered and begged.

"You think you can defy me and still expect pleasure? Nah, princess. Not today." He chuckled.

"Look at you," Roman continues. "Pleading for release like a desperate little slut." he says as he denies Lilith release time and time again, "MY desperate little slut."

Roman slowly and sensually explores Lilith's body, his touch becoming more intimate and passionate. He pays meticulous attention to her responses, ensuring her pleasure reaches its peak.

"You can cum for me now, babygirl." Roman says as Lilith's arousal builds under Roman's skilled ministrations, he carefully listens to her body, attuned to her every moan and whimper. He knows exactly when she reaches the point of no return, when her pleasure is on the cusp of overwhelming her.

With a final flick of his tongue against overly sensitive clit, Roman pushes Lilith over the edge, allowing her to climax with a wave of intense pleasure that echoes through her entire being.

Roman grins, his beard still glistening with her juices as he lifted her gently into his arms and sat again with her in his lap.

With a tender touch, Roman runs his fingers through Lilith's hair. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin. "You did beautifully, my love," he whispers, his voice filled with admiration and affection. "I'm so proud of you."

Roman wraps his arms around Lilith, pulling her close to his muscular chest, offering her warmth and security. He gently rocks her back and forth, creating a soothing rhythm that helps her unwind from the heightened sensations.

As they bask in the afterglow, Roman peppers Lilith's skin with light kisses, his lips tracing a path of tenderness along her neck and shoulder. He murmurs words of reassurance and comfort, reminding her that she is cherished and loved.

"So, what's your problem with.. that word?" Lilith asked curiously, refraining from repeating the word that had led to her punishment in the first place.

"I don't want to be reminded of how I messed things up with Jey." Roman stated honestly. Lilith was the one person he could share his true emotion with.

"Ro, you know you could try talking to him. Apologizing. He'll forgive you." Lilith encouraged.

"I can't be seen as weak. That makes the bloodline vulnerable." Roman said.

"Baby, you are anything but weak. And whatever decision you make, I'm gonna be right here along for the ride." Lilith assured him.

"I love you, Lil." Roman says.

"I love you too." Lilith smiled as she kissed him.

[palaceofpassion]

What if both of their teams are after something similar? Maybe JNPR is sent to deal with Roman and his cronies, who happen to have something that Nicole wants, an heirloom perhaps.

They split up with Jaune teaming with Billy. It will be just two bros talking about their favorite heroes.

//Spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen Billy's trust event yet.

TW: Graphic violence.

BANG

The bandit went down without much of a fight, despite gods knows where he was, it seemed that humans were still humans. The android's yellow visual sensors continued to scan the area, no longer picking up any other life forms. Well other than the several dead bandits with holes in their heads. Though he'd hardly call them life forms anymore.

"This place is weird..." For some reason, he knew that this wasn't anywhere on his planet. As odd as that sounded, when he and the other Hares had entered that last companion Hollow, they'd found themselves separated from Phaethon, Eous was nowhere in sight, and somehow they'd ended up in a lush green mountain range. Something that was... unlike anything they'd been around before. Anby suggested it was another world, like her movies.

They were definitely not in the outlands, and the people here seemed different. It took them a while to realize that they all had some form of barrier over them, nothing the skilled Gentle House couldn't overcome. But it was still a strange phenomena. Unfortunately for Billy, somewhere along the way he'd gotten separated from Nicole, Anby, and Nekomata... leaving him alone and cornered.

Though, cornered wasn't exactly what he'd called it. Originally he'd shot their strange and overly complicated weapons out of their hands, and had requested they surrender. When they opted to laugh at his silly charade, well... he didn't like giving second chances.

"Shit." he muttered to himself, having slipped back into his olden days. Gone for a brief moment was the silly goofy Starlight Knight wannabe, and back was the red devil from the Outlands. "Didn't... want to do that." He hated who he was, hated how he used to be.

Though he could remember only so far, when Big Sis' predecessor had picked him off the scrap yard, he could clearly see everything after. Still remember the scent of blood, the feeling of it corroding his metallic parts... so all of him.

God he missed the others, hopefully he'd be able to find them.

Though, while meandering in his thoughts, he'd failed to notice, at least at first, the hulking black bear charging at him. The blood and negative feelings had lured in a rather large Ursa Major, not that he'd know what that is of course.

The beast's claws roared back as it prepared to strike him down. Only for a shout to come in the distance, "Watch out!"

Though it was hardly needed. Billy was far too quick on his feet, and his finger was always itching against the trigger. BANG

Before it could even strike him, the extremely heavy bullet pierced through its white plated skull, leaving a rather large gaping hole that dust rounds could only dream of doing. "Tch, easy~" The sound of another person had pulled him back from his dilemma. "Though hopefully I'll have enough rounds while I'm here."

Thankfully they'd prepared plenty, on a rare occasion, they actually had the money. So Nicole had decided to splurge, like she always did, and well they prepared some high quality ammo and polishes in high amounts!

"Phew, thanks kid." He called out to the young blonde man making his way over. Though perhaps blonde wasn't right? His hair seemed faded, almost a ghostly white, and he sure as heck did have a strand of white hair down the center of his slicked back do.

"Ah, yeah, no problem."

His voice also felt... tired, fatigued. And for some reason, the kid title didn't seem to fit, though Billy couldn't quite put his finger on it as to why not.

Though, for a split second, he saw something. A glint of happiness, of excitement as he looked at Billy carefully, "Whoa, wait a moment."

Jaune didn't really recognize what Billy was at first, but he did notice that he was garbed in a rather familiar get up. Though not exactly, he looked like a hero from one of his favorite comics, one he hadn't been able to keep up with in a long time.

"Are you a hero fan?!"

Billy blinked, somehow, before smiling, somehow. "You know it! I'm the Starlight Knight! Billy Kid!" Of course he went to make his makeshift poses, spinning his twin ladies around. "Pleasure to meet you."

Jaune smiled, "That's so cool, the name is Jaune, Jaune Arc."

Though it wasn't just Jaune that felt something of a sense of kinship, "Yo! Are you a knight?! ARE there knights here?!"

That would be super cool! Maybe Anby wasn't wrong! Maybe they really DID end up in another world, or maybe this was the past! Though... those guys had guns, really ineffective guns, but they were guns!

"Ah, haha, no, I... don't think I could ever be a knight."

The two of them stared in silence, though Jaune couldn't help but eye the scene before him. A small grimace overcoming his face as the bloodshed... though even he noticed how precise and evenly done every shot was, right between the eyes, not a single miss. That was... some scary accuracy. Even more since he was JUST using guns... and the fact that he took how that Ursa Major in one shot, whatever those bullets were, they were some seriously dangerous stuff.

Hopefully this guy wasn't an enemy.

"So uh... what are you doing all the way out here." He questioned, unsure of where to go. By himself, he doubted he'd stand much of a chance against this stranger if things came down to it. But... he couldn't help but feel like things wouldn't go that way.

"Lost." Was a simple answer, but hey it was true! "Got separated from my teammates. No idea where they are, or where here is, if I'm being honest. We were in a Hollow, got lost from our Proxy, and ended up... here? We got jumped by bandits, got separated, and uh you found me here, told me about that ethereal... odd looking one though, and well now here we are."

"Proxy, Hollow? What are those?" He'd never heard of those before. "And that was a Grimm, not an ethereal. Whatever that is."

"Oh, joy. Anby was right..." Oh god, Anby was right, she wasn't going to let him live this one down. "Ah crud."

Jaune wasn't sure what an Anby was, but hey, he could at least offer him a place for now. Hopefully they could find his friends soon.

[relax-and-read-on]

Math San, I Gotta Ask For More Of That Primarch planet Swap AU, The Amount Of Imaginations That Is Going Through My Head Is Insane, But Headcanons are enough of you do not want to update, As I Am also Genuinely Interested In The Headcanons as well.

Hello hello!!! I am *slowly* going back into updating my blog again, so!

Primarch planetswap au: HC edition!

Lorgar (From Terra): actually quite close to his father and Malcador. Has the habit of walking into Malcador rooms and face planting on the old man bed to complain, after a hard day of not strangling the high lords.

Angron: On Inwit, he had the disastrous habit of running toward all the giant carnivorous monster. Due to his empath power, he ended with a monstrosity called "Land-Orca" that he treat like a dog as a pet.

Fulgrim of Nuceria: Sign language was actually the primary one in the slave pits, to communicate away from the guards. The system that Fulgrim and his sons use together is different from any other, and quite secretive. He actually started teaching it to Ferrus.

Alpharius Omegon on Chtonia: They were actually homeless, until emp showed up! They never wanted their full identity as two knows to other, as it could have compromise their secret statut of vigilante, fighting back the local gangs.

Magnus of Medusa: Think rocks are tasty, okay? He never quite got over his habit of eating sand, but now it's mostly crystal. Has an actual chart ranking the tastiest ones, and fucking LOVE how tasty fossil are.

Leman of Delivrance: Has yet to fully understand that has wolf dna, and as such fight a lot of his instinct. Insist on touching everyone he consider family, and check on the regular where everyone is, and if they are ok. Always eat last too.

Konrad on Maccrage: when he was a child and having really bad convulsion, his mother gave him a pet ferret (wich used to be common pets for Romans) as some kind of alert animal. Konrad doesn't deal well with food often, so his beloved lil friend (called Regulus) became the fattest, happiest noodle.

Ferrus of Caliban: He actually has a romantic side! He grew up hearing songs of knights and princess, and then ended up becoming a knight himself! And while incredibly chivalrous, the realm of the arts (outside a forge) stay incredibly foreign to him. He does love nowaday harlequin romance novels.

Horus on Nostramo: In spite of having created a rather criminal society, he made extreme effort to make it a true meritocracy. Any street urchin can become a mob enforcer under him... If they navigate properly the treacherous world of the mafia.

Sanguinius of Fenris: He actually is a supremely picky eater, and does not trust 95% of vegetables. He only ate meat until he was found by the Imperium, he's not a goat, why do they keep waving kale at him?!

Lion on Colchis: Fully, 100% aware that the chaos gods are real, and actively pray to them. He has his "religion of the Emperor" that he actually use as a facade, since it annoy Emp so much, he doesn't look into his "true" belief.

Perturabo on Chemos: has actually developed full AI again, but hide it HARD from Emp and the Mechanicus. He like his robots!! He think that they should have rights! Why can't the Imperium be less stupid about this... Vaguely in love with Rogal and his Cool Armours.

Jaghatai on Baal: Became quite the warlord, locally. Was especially curious of the use of radiation, and definitely made some horrible WMD back in the day. Currently falling in line with the Mechanicus, as every vehicules present on Baal was almost holly in their culture.

Rogal of Nocturne: Created some really, REALLY advanced fortification that can, somehow, follow the landscape change. Is pioneering the use of dragon scales mixed with special metals, creating something that might be stronger than ceramite. Does not understand why Perturabo is always hanging around.

Roboute on Barbarus: decided to fight necromancy with fire... Artillery fire, to be exact. He brought the industrial revolution to Barbarus, and has pretty intense plan for terraforming the planet. Hasn't stopped working in.... Approximately 50 years.

Mortarion of Prospero: Like in many of my hc, Morty is intersex. He's lucky to have landed on Prospero, where androgyny is a sign of beauty. He actually like cultivating that appearance, and if asked what his gender is, he usually just reply "mushroom".

Corvus of Chogoris: if it's me, then you bet Corvus is a transwoman lol. She wear traditional mongolian ceremonial outfit as a power move, because *no one* expect her to be able to move this easily in all those heavy clothes.

Vulkan of Olympia: VERY close to all 3 of his siblings! He was never a fighter there, and instead worked hard to promote a democratie and division of power. He still is in contact with all of them, especially Calliphone. She keep teasing him about his possible crush on a certain Oracle...

[edupunkn00b]

Roomies, Ch. 4: The Gladiator

Prev - The Gladiator - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3548 - Rated: T - CW: swearing as always, suggestive, making out, very brief physical altercation - Written for @intrualityweek 2024, Plushies/Stuffies

Logan makes an observation. Oh, and did you know that The Gladiator 2 is coming out next fall, starring Pedro Pascal. Now you do.

After that first awkward gathering in the dining hall, he and Patton met up with RoLo most mornings for breakfast. And a lotta lunches. RoLo usually had dinner by themselves and those first few evenings, Patton acted a lot like he did their real first night. Quiet when he thought Remus wasn't looking, and then he'd get chatty, with a big, bright smile that stopped just before it reached his eyes. 

He’d perk right up at breakfast, though. The clouds would lift from those sky blue eyes, and his laughter came easier. And sometimes, when he was very lucky or very funny, Remus could pull that same sweet laugh from him. Tittering bells, tinkled keys at one end of a piano.

But usually, his biggest smiles were still reserved for Ro. For the first time in all their lives, really, they didn’t have any of the same classes and Patton would devour Ro’s tales of his day like a ravenous python.

Two months into the school year, though, and Patton’s face would still fall every time RoLo got all handsy in front of them. Fingers twisted around each other in his lap, Patton would sent his gaze down to his plate like he didn’t know where to look. Or he’d jump up, voice high and overly cheery, and offer to refill drinks or fetch more napkins or ketchup or some shit.

Finally even Logan noticed.

”Ai, mi amor, do not fret,” Ro had murmured, pressing Logan’s hand to his lips the breakfast right after midterms. “I’m certain you did wonderfully on your exam!”

”Yeah,” Patton said as he pushed up to his feet. Eyes down, he grabbed the three empty cups on the table. “You’re so smart, Logan, I’m sure you aced it! Hey, why don’t I get us more juice and stuff.”

Remus kicked his brother’s shin under the table and looked pointedly at RoLo’s hands when he looked his way.

”What the hell, Re—

“Oh, I do not require a refill,” Logan interrupted, giving Ro’s hand a little tug. “I must leave soon. I have an early lab this morning,” he said, swapping his empty cup for Roman’s half-filled one. “It does, however, appear you could use some assistance, Patton.” 

Ro finally got it and stood. “I shall see you after class then, mi amor,” he murmured as he bent and kissed Logan’s cheek. “Allow me to help you, Pat,” he smiled at Patton, laying on the gallantry chokingly thick.

Patton would barely look at him. ”Oh, thanks, Ro, but you really don’t hafta-”

”Please?” He said, reaching for the cups.

The morning sun glinted through Patton’s eyelashes when he finally looked up at Ro, casting long shadows over the apple of his cheeks. A slow smile spread across his face and he nodded. “Thanks,” he said and handed over one of the cups.

”It is my pleasure, my dear Pattington Bear,” Ro intoned in his best Prince Charming impression. Remus wanted to gag. “I’m happy to be an extra set of hands in all your endeavors!”

Patton giggled, bright sunlight cutting through the storm of his earlier expression. “My knight in shining armor.”

”After you,” Ro bowed, one arm spread out as though without his direction Patton somehow wouldn’t remember the way to the juice dispenser.

Patton gave him and Logan a little wave with one of the tumblers and chuckled, trotting off with Ro. 

Logan watched them leave and it was all Remus could do to not turn around in his seat and do the same. “You know,” Remus said, voice low so it wouldn’t carry over the din of the other breakfasters. “You have nothing to worry about with him. Ro’s head over heels for you.”

“I appreciate, though do not require the reassurance. I am well aware,” Logan said, smiling into his still half-filled coffee. “Roman has long since outgrown his old middle school crush.”

Remus felt his own jaw drop. How—

“You needn’t look so shocked,” Logan murmured, a smile quirking up his lip at Remus’ surprise. “Roman and I discussed it when I asked if he was aware of Patton’s feelings for him.” Logan took another bite of his food and chewed before adding, “I did not, however, discuss with him how your middle school crush has not evaporated with time.”

“What?” Remus choked on his yogurt. He dragged a napkin over his mouth and balled it up in his hands, shaking his head. “I don’t—I don’t have a—”

Logan met his denial with silence and that damned cocked eyebrow. Fuck he used to think that looked so hot. And now?

Sighing, Remus sat back in his chair. “It’s not just a crush, it’s—”

A bright peal of laughter drew both of their attention and Remus turned in his seat, following the sound. Patton and Ro were at the other end of the dining hall. Mouth covered with both hands, Patton couldn't quite muffle his laughter as he watched Ro balance a tray on his head, three filled glasses teetering on top. Ro turned a slow pirouette, then curtseyed when Patton applauded, not a drop spilled.

Remus turned back in his seat and saw Logan had been watching not the spectacle but him. He shoved the dirty napkin in his pocket. “It’s not just a crush.” 

“Indeed,” he said. 

Apparently Logan wasn’t satisfied with a mere confession. Steely blue eyes stared at him like a bug on a slide and Remus stared back. If Logan knew, how long would it be before everyone else did? “How could you tell?”

“Despite the declarations of self-described experts, autism is not necessarily the inability to perceive and properly interpret social cues,” Logan said, wiping his mouth and rising to his feet. “It is often the unwillingness to play pointless games that fail to address the matter at hand.”

Remus stared up at him, eyes wide. He’d always thought Logan to be kinda oblivious to all the glances and fidgets and glossy eyes on the other side of the table.

Logan continued, “May I suggest you direct your romantic attention elsewhere? With someone who is a willing recipient of said attention?”

”Hey, if you wanted to get back together,” Remus smirked, “You could’ve just said—”

He cut him off with a single raised hand. “Don’t deflect. You know I meant somewhere else outside this group.”

Remus shifted in his seat and stared at the sunlight reflecting off Patton’s coffee cup. “I… I don’t know about that, Lo.” He shook his head.

”I predicted you would say that. Fortunately, I prepared for such an outcome. Two tables down and three over is an attractive man who’s been watching you all morning,” Logan said matter-of-factly as he gathered his bag and jacket. “I tutor him in Biochem. His name is Jake. He’s a sophomore, reasonably intelligent, and an athlete.” He raised one eyebrow. Like Spock, he did it a lot. “And he’s clearly interested in you.”

”I’ll think about it,” Remus said, turning when he heard Patton and Ro’s voices grow louder. “I promise.”

“We are long past the time for consideration,” Logan said with a tiny smirk as he waved and nodded across the room. “I gave him your number last week.” On cue, his phone buzzed on the table, lit up with a text notification from an unknown number. “Call him today.”

~

Jake didn’t work out. ‘Reasonably intelligent’ turned out to mean ‘needed to demonstrate said intelligence by intellectually shitting on everyone around him,’ so after two dates, Remus mostly-gently asked him to stop calling.

Max and Taylor and Haseem hadn’t worked out, either. They were… fine, he supposed. Cute, good kissers, decent enough guys, but they just weren’t…

Remus had finished towel-drying his hair and was darkening his eyeliner in the dingy bathroom mirror when there was a knock at the door. Patton poked his head into their bathroom, one corner of his mouth pushed up into a little smile. “I think he’s here, Re.”

He met Patton’s eyes in the mirror. The heat and lingering steam from the shower was drawn to his features, glazing his round cheeks in a soft glow. Yes, he was here. Right fucking here next to him.

Remus put down the pencil and shimmied his shoulders, turning like a runway model. “Whaddya think?” He wore his new jeans with the rips in the thighs and a fishnet tank to show off his newest tattoo. 

“You look great!” His eyes darted to the door at a second knock. “Okay if I get it?” He started to turn when Remus nodded, then slid back. “Wait, which one’s this?” he whispered, the memory of the night they’d inadvertently overheard a couple breaking up in the hallway three doors down fresh in both their minds. Noise sure traveled on this hall.

“Uh,” Remus tapped his phone to check his last message. “Devin Moore.”

“Oh… Oh!” his face brightened in recognition. “I’ve got Stats with him. You ready?” he asked, flashing one more grin.

“I’m almost done, yeah,” Remus murmured. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Anytime, Roomie,” he said, running off to the door.

“Hey there, Devin!” Patton cheered as the door squealed open. “Re’s just about done.”

“Oh, Patrick. Hi.” Devin’s voice sounded… off. Surprised, maybe. Hadn’t he told Devin about his roommate? But something else in his tone urged Remus to finish up fast.

“It’s Patton,” Pat correctly, voice chipper but… thin. Like it got sometimes when talking to RoLo.

“Right… Patton. Nice to see you.”

Remus burst out of the bathroom and twirled, trying to ignore the voice in his head that said he’d seen Ro pull the same trick. Patton’s stifled giggle made it worth it, though, and he flashed him a quick grin before winking at Devin. “Hey there, handsome. Lemme grab my boots, and—”

Patton slid past him and grabbed his fleece lined MC from the closet. “It’s 40 degrees out, you should take this,” he murmured, eyebrows raised at his tank top.

He looked over at Devin’s puffer jacket, long pants, and boots and nodded before smiling at Patton. “Thanks,” he said and shoved his arms through the sleeves before joining Devin at the door. “Don’t wait up, yeah?”

“I won’t. I’ve got a quiz tomorrow.” Patton laughed. “Have fun!” he added and, with a little wave, closed the door behind them.

~

The credits had just begun to roll when Devin stood and motioned toward the aisle. “C’mon, it’s all on IMDB anyway,” he said when Remus, frowning, remained in his seat. 

Casting one more glance at the screen, he shrugged and sidled past the couple sitting near them. He wanted to see it again anyway. He could stay for the credits then. And If RoLo hadn’t gone yet, maybe they could all catch it together. Though Pat probably wouldn’t like that scene in the arena pits. But he could warn him about it, maybe they could even use it as a chance to get refills and check out—

Devin’s arm snaking around his waist pulled his thoughts back to the present. “Where’d you go, Sexy?” he purred close to his ear. 

Remus consciously leaned into his embrace and smirked, “I was not thinking about how hot Pedro Pascal looks in a toga.”

“Hmm… you weren’t, were you?” Devin’s lips grazed his neck and Remus let his eyes fall closed before nodding.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed and pushed away all other thoughts. Devin was hot, generous, smart. Here.

Devin led them closer to the exit and a blast of frigid air slammed into them as the doors slid open at their approach. “I’ve got heated seats,” Devin murmured, drawing him closer. “Why don’t we go for a drive?”

They didn’t even make it out of Park. For all its pretentious bells and whistles, the climate controls on the giant touch screen did at least make fast work of warming up the car. Under cover of the tinted—and now foggy—windows, Remus soon found himself straddling Devin’s lap on the driver’s seat, both of their jackets abandoned in the backseat. 

Even with the seat pushed back all the way, the steering wheel kept him close enough to feel exactly how pleased Devin was with their positions.

“I like your tattoo,” Devin smirked up at him, scalding heat in his eyes. He traced the longest tentacles curling toward his navel and chuckled. “It’s like they’re pointing me somewhere.”

“Yeah?” Remus shifted, not necessarily trying to move out of his reach but not sliding closer, either. “How ‘bout you?” he asked, tracing the skin just under his sleeves. “You have any ink?”

“And mark up the guns?” Devin said, pulling him in for another kiss.

Remus closed his eyes and abandoned himself to the scent of Devin’s hair gel, the heat of his mouth. The warm, rough palms dragging down his back. He pushed up Devin’s shirt, fingers walking along the cut of his abs. “You do keep it tight,” he whispered against his lips.

Trailing kisses down his jaw and along his neck, Devin laughed again, breath hot against his skin. He smelled like stale popcorn. “I knew you didn’t go for the doughy types,” he mumbled before sucking just below his ear.

“What?” Remus’ eyes snapped open.

“You know,” Devin chuckled then latched on to a new spot. Remus held his breath as he sucked hard against his skin. Finally Devin broke away, nipping at the mark he made. “Like your dorky little roommate.”

Remus pushed away from him, steering wheel jammed into his lower back. “The fuck you just say?”

“Oh, no, baby,” Devin cooed, one hand at his waist, the other pushing back hair from his eyes. “I’m all on board with that body positivity thing. As long as he’s happy, it’s none of my business. I’m just sayin’… you know…” He shrugged like his point was obvious. “He’s a bit… chunky. Not your type.” The hand that fell down to Remus’ waist burned through the mesh of his shirt. “Not in our league.”

Skin crawling, Remus shook his head and climbed back into his own seat. “Yeah, Pat is way the fuck out of your league.” He reached back and grabbed his jacket, ignoring Devin’s protests. “I’m gonna take the bus home. Have a good night,” he said, opening the door.

“Wait, baby, don’t leave like that—” Devin’s hand closed on his thigh before he could slide out of the car.

Grabbing his middle and ring fingers, Remus pushed back and twisted. Hard. Devin was left bent over the middle console, arm crooked back and hand up by his shoulder. Remus leaned close to growl in his ear. “Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking arm.”

“Okay, man! Okay,” Devin cried. Remus released him and he clambered back into the driver’s seat. “Jesus, you’re fucking crazy!��� he said, starting the engine.

“Damn right I am,” Remus grinned and slammed the door shut just as Devin floored it out of the parking lot. He shot through the empty intersection just after the light turned red. “Call me fucking crazy,” he said, shaking his head.

Shivering, he took out his phone and, pretending he didn’t see it was already 34° out, pulled up the transit app. Good, he didn’t have long to wait for the next bus. He walked quickly and zipped up his jacket, shoving his hands in the deep, warm pockets. “Thanks for making me bring this, Pat,” he whispered to himself, already a little warmer.

~

Shaking off the last traces of his anger, Remus stopped outside his dorm room door and took a slow, deep breath. That asshole wasn’t worth another ounce of his energy. 

But inside his room was someone who was.

Remus dragged his hand down the door, loud enough to be heard inside if Pat was still awake—and possibly changing—but not nearly loud enough to wake him if he’d already gone to bed. He waited a beat then typed in the code and slowly opened the door.

Hallway light spilled into the dark room and cast a golden wedge across the floor and their beds. It caught just a bit of Pat’s curls where they peeked out from his usual nest of blankets and pillows. Looked like a halo. Remus’ shoulders dropped as the last shreds of tension from his fuck-awful night slipped away. When he turned to close the door, he was surprised to realize he was already smiling. 

Pat shifted in his sleep and as Remus’ eyes grew accustomed to the dark, he saw the stuffie Pat slept with fall to the floor with a soft thud. Remus toed off his boots and left them under his bed, then crept closer and crouched to retrieve it. It was a stuffed horse, about as big as both hands splayed out. It had a star between its eyes and a dappled grey coat. 

The first time he’d spotted the bit of grey fluff spilling out from Pat’s blankets, he’d had a flash of recognition. And his guess had been right. The stuffie really was Phillip. 

Ro had won it at their seventh grade end-of-year carnival. Just after Remus had won a stuffed stingray at the same bottle game. Remus couldn’t remember if he’d actually told Ro who he’d planned to give it to. Maybe he was just that obvious about it back then. All he remembered was that Ro had beat him to it, bowing regally and presenting the little grey horse to Pat like the golden apple offered to Helen of Troy.

For as old as he was, the little stuffie was in pretty good shape. He was a little threadbare in a couple spots and there were crooked black stitches along one hoof, but the plush material was still fluffy. He smelled like Pat’s conditioner.

His mane had splayed out in the night, sticking up every which way. Remus chuckled and smoothed it back down, leaving a little swoop over his eyes the way Pat’s hair fell over his own forehead when he got excited. Satisfied the little horse was back to his previous state, he looked up—

Right into Pat’s wide eyes.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry I woke you,” Remus whispered. Smiling, he offered him the stuffed horse. “You dropped this in your sleep.”

“That’s not—” he started, sitting up and shaking his head. 

Remus frowned and sat the stuffie on top of his covers. Pat stared at it for a moment before plucking it up and thrusting it under the blankets. “You—you weren’t supposed to see that,” he whispered.

“Pattycake,” Remus laughed, sitting back on the floor. “I saw Philip our second night here. I couldn’t sleep. You rolled over and I saw you cuddling him.”

“How—” He stared at Remus, lower lip caught between his teeth. “How did you know his name?”

Remus shrugged, “I was there when you got him.” 

Pat blinked, eyes faraway, replaying the memory like a movie. Suddenly his eyes widened, shiny in the dim light. “You remember that?”

“‘Course I do,” he nodded. “You don’t have to hide him. You don’t have to hide anything from me, Pattycake. I’m your friend.”

Pat’s head hung down and he hugged his knees to his chest. “My other friends made fun of me for keeping him.” He snaked one hand under the covers and fished Phillip out. 

“Those assholes didn’t know how to be your friend then, did they?” He pet the star on Phillip’s head and smiled up at Pat. “I’d never tease you, not if you didn’t think it was funny, too, at least.”

Pat looked back at him for a long time, holding his gaze. Finally he smiled. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, I know.”

“Ro, on the other hand…” Remus smirked, softening into a full grin when Patton giggled. Copper bells tinkling in the air. “Yeah, Ro, I’ll tease the fuck out of him.”

“He’d probably think you were sick if you suddenly stopped teasing him.”

“Yeah, he would,” Remus laughed. He reached for Pat’s hand then shifted at the last second and gave Phillip another little pet. “Good night, Patttycake,” he murmured. “Gonna take a shower and wash the stink of burnt popcorn offa me then head to bed.”

“Good idea,” Pat nodded. “‘Night, Re.” 

He pushed up to his feet and Pat got settled again under his covers, Phillip clutched close to his chest. Remus pulled off his belt and his shirt, then left them on the floor of his closet. In the dark, he felt around for a pair of sleep shorts from his drawer and headed for the bathroom.

“Hey, Remus?” Light from the art building’s veranda sparkled in Pat’s eyes.

“Yeah, Pat?”

Barely visible, he sat up and fidgeted with Phillip’s mane. “Breakfast tomorrow?” 

Remus’ throat clenched. Ever since the night Remus had spent at Taylor’s place, every day Pat would ask him if they would still go together to breakfast the next morning. Like he couldn’t trust anymore that Remus would be there.

He smiled, nodding, though he knew Pat couldn’t see him. “You bet. I’ll finagle fresh coffee from the kitchen and you can get us the good table by the heater.”

“It’s a deal,” Pat laughed and settled back into bed. “Night,” he whispered after a moment. Remus could just make out the flash of his smile in the dim room. 

“”Night, Pattycake.”

[kuroshitsuji-igurisshu]

Illustration of Rich Black

𖤐Hello everyone Kuronians𖤐

Today I would like to tell you about the illustration Yanuzza did for the 15th anniversary of the series. The illustration in question was presented as the official visual of the Rich Black or the magnificent exhibition that perfectly summed up every facet of the work.Being a very complex illustration, that is probably why it was simplified in the G-fantasy magazine while still bringing the same atmosphere.In addition, the illustration we see in the magazine was the first idea she sketched, whereas, the Rich Black illustration she came up with by modifying the initial idea several times.

Dwelling on Rich Black's illustration, we are immediately catapulted into a gloomy and cold atmosphere, where the figures of birds flying away certainly do not help to make this illustration more welcoming.We can say that the scene takes place on a chessboard where we notice the two protagonists in the foreground. Sebastian, and especially 'Ciel', are wearing very peculiar clothes, so peculiar that our attention lingers only on them.

Apparently Sebastian's tailcoat looks like the usual garment he always wears, but when seen up close, one can see that behind the back it has a black lace embroidery depicting a horned skull crowned with beautiful lilies. Just above the swallowtails one can see another lace decoration containing two buttons.The trousers, seemingly innocuous, have a side band with lace encrustations forming the Roman characters XV or the number fifteen.

If Sebastian's look amazed you with its elegance, that of 'Ciel' is undoubtedly on another level. Starting from the jacket, you can see some very peculiar brooches, in fact each of them represents an arc from the manga. They are all placed on the jacket, except for one, namely the brooch that specularly represents two identical skulls. This brooch represents the Blue Memory arc and happens to be placed on the shoe. At first glance it might look like an anti-brother gesture, but in fact it is anything but, because in non-verbal communication it is the feet that are the most truthful body part. If we do not like someone unconsciously when they come towards us to talk to us we will not tilt our foot towards them, symbolising a kind of 'non-acceptance' rather we will turn away or something. Perhaps with this gesture Yanuzza wanted to emphasise the relationship he had, and has, with his brother, because despite everything he will always remain a part of him.As with the butler, we have the same skull motif with lace lilies on the jacket of the human puppy. The illustration, or rather, the clothes are so well-rendered and detailed that it is easy to get lost in the details, such as the dark train of 'Ciel' ending in skulls.

Nevertheless, this is not the real message of the illustration, because the interesting part is behind it. It will not be very easy to explain this also because the illustration is so complex that it is not really easy to see the pawns. Yes, the pawns. Behind Sebastian and 'Ciel' there are several white pawns, not random pawns, this because we saw them in Emerald Witch where Yanuzza associated the colour white with the enemy.

White pawns

Bishop = Joker

Knight = Undertaker

Pawn = Doll

Queen = Victory

In between Sebastian and 'Ciel' we can see a strange pawn, this because it is missing a piece. The pawn in question is actually that of Undertaker, the horse, whose head they 'decapitated'.On either side we can see the pawns associated with Joker and Ciel in a strange pairing... Joker is on 'Ciel's side, while Ciel on Sebastian's side. Indeed, our count has exterminated the Noah's Ark Circus and surely Joker (perhaps Polaris) will want revenge. As for Sebastian, well... he's the cause of Ciel's death and I don't think there's anything more to add. Behind the human cub is the queen's pawn, obviously associated with Victoria, but unlike the side pawns, it seems to be going the way of the horse, since it's in an unsteady position that suggests an imminent crash. Even its position does not seem coincidental, considering the great power Victoria has over 'Ciel'.

The scenario of this illustration almost seems to announce a battle, a battle that 'Ciel' will face head-on and with confidence given the way it is drawn. For the first time, we have a young man with his legs spread wide apart, in a commanding position of confidence, as if marking territory. Perhaps later Yanuzza will show us a new 'Ciel'? After all, he still has to take back his villa.

Even in this illustration we have two readings: the first is on the two protagonists who, with their peculiar clothing, not only distract us from everything else, but also bring attention to the essence of Kuroshitsuji, giving us a broad vision of the series.The same vision we had in Rich Black where each story arc had its own corner with exclusive panels, unpublished plates and more.The second reading is in the background and, unlike the first, here we do not have a focus on the series in general but on what could be a hypothetical future of the events of the manga.

If you are curious to see more of my posts, you can find me on IG as Kuroshitsuji_itaru 😈

[eedenuwu]

oc-tober | my first few days

hello tumbo ler. i am kinda doing oc-tober this year, kinda not. i know my schedule (busy, hectic, hell) but i also know i like to procrastinate (these 3 pieces have consumed time that would've been better used for homework).

so, i'm gonna jump into it... the other 2 drawings and more info will be below the cut

day 1 | favorite oc

ok so i started off strong here... by that i mean i started with day 1!!! (on october 5). this is my favorite ever. i have never really info dumped about this one on the internet before... was gonna use this as a time to start but then deleted what i just wrote LOLL all u gotta know is that bro is stunning witterawy just look. also this oc is from the 1920s/30s/40s... most of the story i've got in my head takes place in the 30s tho 😻

day 5 | redesigned oc

see this is what i mean. i skipped from day 1 to day 5.. but this is an oc i made when i was like 12 (WAY TOO CLOSE TO 10 YEARS AGO) and he was an angsty little bugger... it used to be the case that he was a witch living on his own in a village that, like, hates him or whatever. (because he's a witch.) the townsfolk like rip his tongue out or whatever and then he couldn't speak anymore but still ran like some sort of fruit stand at some sort of market. then like the love of his life moved in and he lived happily ever after. (not true, the love of his life was a BOY so i think they both got killed.)

and wow!!! that's a lot for a 12/13 year old. i came across an OLDDD google doc that had a little bit about this guy in it. the story, as anything written by a 12/13yo, made like. extremely little sense.

so i redesigned bro in about 2022ish. gave him a name, and he's still a witch. he's still missing a tongue. the differences now include that he's AFAB, has a little friend in his head only (pictured. he is cursed) and has a twin brother now. his twin brother works as a knight and like... captured him for an insane bounty. i also gave him a little bit of plot armor... he's some sort of telepath now so he's able to get by without a tongue. instead of straight up fantasy ville, i've been doing a little research into the middle ages to figure out a more, like, realistic setting... as realistic as including supernatural things can be but believe me the story is making a lot more sense now than it did in 2015.

day 3 | old oc

so i drew this today. yes these are in order of when i drew them...

anyway in terms of when i made this one, he's not THAT old. he's a product of my highschool mind and appeared on MANY assignments as doodles.. so he was like, essentially, born in about 2016/17, but i consider him old because i haven't so much as thought about him since like 2020, MAYBEEE early 2021.

this is also making me realize i have a thing for FREAKS. every one of these ocs has something about them that makes them "less than human;" this guy's deal is that he's like.. half fish..

it sounded really cool in 2017 you have to understand this was the vibe of the time

anyway he essentially got scrapped for no better reason than i was just getting bored. like, the story i was developing for bro ALSO took place in the 1920s (dude let me tell u. prohibition era america is actually my roman empire. genuinely in every sense of the real meaning of that trend) but it was diverging too far from reality and sort of becoming an atla knockoff toward the end of my thoughts for it... so then bro at the top was born (girl on day 1) in august 2021 and the rest for this guy was history. such is the damning reality of the creative.

anyway, that's all. i have no idea if i'll keep this up, but some of the prompts have genuinely given me ideas to cure my art block (I HAVE NOT DRAWN SINCE JULYYYYY) so i'm hoping to have time for more 🥲

[sandersontheside]

thought i would give some options (or multiple in one if ur feeling ambitious lol) from drabble list 5 + prinxiety ! 6. "We need a strategy." 41. "Don't you want some advice?" 59. "If there is a problem, I don't want to hear about it."

Thanks for the options! I ended up using them all and writing some romangst. I've never really written canon compliant stuff before, but that's where my brain went with this. Hope you enjoy! (prompt lists: 4,5,7)

Roman appeared in his room still trying to hold back the tears that were pooling in his eyes, and immediately curled up in his bed. It was foolish, he knew, how upset he was. He was being a drama queen, as usual. Poor Roman, can’t handle things not going his way, too used to being the center of attention. 

But in his defense, Thomas was planning a music video. If any of them should’ve been in charge of this, it should have been him. It was his idea, his song choice, his artistic vision. And they were all more than happy to take his ideas at the start. But now that it was in the practical planning stage? Suddenly it was “colorful lighting and smoke effects are too expensive, Roman” and “maybe Thomas should just sing the song in his living room”  and “it’s not fair to always ask Thomas’s friends for help.” 

Roman wasn’t stupid. He knew that his big ideas would have to be pared down for practicality. And he knew that paring them down was Logan’s job. But it still hurt, the way he was completely shot down time and again. Patton tried to reframe it as encouragement–“Don't you want some advice, Kiddo?"---and maybe Roman would have believed that before. Things change. Heroes fall. And no matter how much Patton insisted he was trying to help, Roman still felt stifled, even as he continued to rattle out ideas to be scrapped for parts. 

“We need a strategy,” Logan had eventually snapped. “Not a daydream.” 

That shut Roman up for a long time, as the others went back and forth on the aforementioned strategy. Eventually, he got tired of being ignored and passed over, and decided there was no point in sticking around. He didn’t even say anything, just raised his arms and began to sink out. None of them even noticed. 

Or that’s what Roman thought, until he pulled from his self pity by a familiar, low voice. “Trying to slack off, Princey?” Virgil’s tone was light and teasing, but Roman wasn’t in the mood. 

"If there is a problem, Dark Knight, I don't want to hear about it,”  he snapped, sitting up. 

“Woah,”  Virgil put his hands up. “There’s no problem. Except maybe with you. Why’d you leave?” 

“No one’s asked for my opinion in the last ten minutes,” Roman shrugged, feeling guilty for lashing out at his—at Virgil. “I don’t think I’m needed up there.” 

“Well, that’s stupid,” Virgil shoved Roman over on the bed and squished in next to him. “As soon as you left, so did Thomas’s desire to work on the music video at all. All he had to listen to was Logan pointing out the impracticalities and me worrying about his audience hating it. We need you to balance us out, Roman. You know that.”

Roman huffed. “That may be the case, but it doesn’t change the fact that Logan and Patton won’t listen to my ideas. Every single thing I said got shot down.” 

“Come on,” Virgil leaned against him, warm and solid. “You know your ideas can be a little out there sometimes. We all have to compromise. That’s what balance means.” 

“I know, I know!” Roman threw his arms up. “Intellectually, I know that. But lately, it all just feels like an attack. Like they all hate me.” 

“You know it’s not, though, right?” 

Roman didn’t say anything. 

Virgil reached a hand to cup Roman’s cheek, tilting his head and forcing him to make eye contact. “Look at me. It’s not. Patton loves you. Logan loves you. I love you.” 

Roman blinked, feeling his eyes mist over again, and pressed into Virgil’s touch. “I’m just—I’m tired. Ever since the callback, everything with Logan and Patton has felt off. I’m always walking on eggshells around them and it’s exhausting.” 

Virgil sighed. “I know, and believe me, I have been on them to make it right with you. It’s going to take time before things feel normal again. But I promise they still love you.” 

Roman sniffed. “Thank you. I guess I’m just not doing well with all the changes. Janus getting accepted, my brother getting acknowledged. God knows he’ll be accepted next, and then Thomas won’t need me at all.” 

“Ro,” Virgil wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. “Even when Remus is accepted, Thomas will still need you. You’re more than creativity—you’re his passion, his drive. I don’t think Remus has any of that.” A pause. “Well, maybe ego.” 

Roman snorted. 

“As for De-Janus, I really don’t think he’s out to get you. He’s just….Like That.” 

“I really don’t like that guy,” Roman shook his head. 

“That’s what you said about me once, Princey.” Virgil smirked. “Look where that’s gotten you.” 

Roman couldn’t fight a smile at that. “I think it’s gotten me right where I need to be.” He kissed Virgil softly. “Thanks for coming after me, Stormcloud.” 

“Anytime, Princey.” Virgil wrapped his arms around Roman and pulled him in tight. “I know things are difficult right now. But you’ve always got me.” 

“I know we still need to work on this music video,” Roman leaned back, taking Virgil with him until they were fully horizontal. “But can we cuddle for a bit first?” 

Virgil laughed softly, repositioning himself so his head was on Roman’s chest and their legs were tangled together. “We can.” 

[imjustsocute]

Call Of Duty Black ops: Cold War [Bell OC]

(Final design)

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Name: Lisette “Bell” Frans [?]

Alias: Bell (by safehouse crews), Doll face (by Woods and Lazar), Little rat (Perseus??), Little princess (???)

Date of Birth: [???]

Age: 25-27 (1981)

Blood Type: A-

Nationality: Russian

Birthplace: [???]

Languages spoken: English, Russian, German

PHYSICAL INFORMATION

Gender: Female

Eyes color: Hazel

Hair color: Ash blonde

Build: Lean

Height: 5’4/ 162 cm.

Weight: 121 Ibs/ 55 kg.

Marks: A few scars on the left stomach, A gunshot wound on the right stomach, A large scar under breasts

AFFILIATIONS

CIA

Russell Adler

Jason Hudson

Alex Mason

Frank Woods

Lawrence Sims

Eleazar “Lazar” Azoulay

MI6

Helen Park

KGB

Dimitri Belikov

Perseus collective (In past)

Perseus

Arash Kadivar

Qasim Javadi

Anton Volkov

Vikhor “Stitch” Kuzmin

Kapano “Naga” Vang

Kaori “Kitsune” Tanaka

Freya “Wraith” Helvig

Roman “Knight” Gray

Owethu “Jackal” Mabuza

BIOGRAPHY

[REDECTED]

SKILL AND ABILITIES

Fighting Style: Sambo, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Muay Thai

Weapon(s): Assault rifles, anything that can be weapons(fork, a pice of glass, wire etc.)

Distinct Weapon: M1911, Zero Tolerance 0006

Shortcomings: -

PERSONALITY

Myers Briggs Type: ISFJ [Even Bell always keeps her straight face every time but doesn’t mean she didn’t care anyone or anything, she likes to observe everyone who close to her and support them in every way. She would do everything to protect those she loves. Even though she must sacrifice herself, she will do it without hesitate. What a saint she is, isn’t she?]

Good listener: Bell never argued with anyone in conversations or start speaking if no one asked her. She always listen them in silence, no opportunity, no questions like a good girl that sit still.

Dedicated: She will sacrifice everything that she have. No matter how many bloodshed on her hands, betrayed, killed everyone who get in her way or even worse, these actions are so selfish and disgusting more than anything but for the love ones, if that make them happy she would do it. Even in the end she would die alone she never upset at them. Never.

NEGATIVE TRAITS

Nervous: Bell not very good to meet a new member or friends. She didn’t know where to put herself when someone greeting or praised her and she will says “Thank you” in a monotone but in her mind is already exploding.

Family

[REDECTED]

FAVORITE

Food: Staek pie, Borscht

Drink: Coca Cola, Rose tea

Color: Blue

Song: -

TRIVIA

Bell is a big eater. You will be surprised that she can eat up all food on table, no matter how many dishes had served she wiped out all of them.

Bell always keep her straight face all the time, happy, sad, angry, surprised or even smile. She never show them on her face, only doll face to show up on her.

She often had nightmares when she sleep about the fields of Vietnam, the girl who whispered on Bell to find the locket. And the man covered with blood on his whole body call her name but she didn’t hear it.

Bell is an expert arcade one. No one can beat her, she is the true Gamer in 80s.

——-

🫠🫠🫠

[theology101]

Roger Maxson is the most important man in Fallout American History

So tonight, as we break bread together, let us forge together something new. Something strong. Something we can be proud of. Something we can build upon. We'll preserve what's best of what's come before and use it. And one day, we will reclaim what was lost. Let us forge a Brotherhood of Steel.

I love great man history. It is entirely inaccurate and a horrible way to represent trends, war, geo-political power, and the thousands of little pieces that all make up 'history.' Great Man History swipes that all away and instead makes history a Biography, where the steps made by an individual would reverberate for eons to come. In real life, the amount of people who could possibly defined as 'Great Men' is minuscule (by my count, its 5) and its usage in chronicling history is dubious if not non-existent

But for storytelling? Hot DOG that gets my blood pumping!

Roger Maxson was a man on the Brink. His commanding officer, Colonel Robert Spindel had just committed suicide, leaving Maxson in command of the entire military brigade established at Mariposa - 1,500-3,200 soldiers, all of whom had to deal with the fact that their government willingly committed horrors against not only humans, but also American citizens. He was able to gather the families of his men, probably doubling their population numbers, and then watched as a week and a day after assuming command, Roger Maxson watched as nuclear flame wiped clean the entire surface.

This was not like Ellen Santiago on the East Coast, a military leader looking for some hope, some direction. This was a man who had declared independence from his country, had the Rose colored glasses ripped from his eyes and watched as consumerism and imperialism consumed the entire world. Mariposa was a military base... and also a corporate research center. Maxson would have been well aware of the economic situation prior to the war and would most likely have come to the conclusion that America was responsible for its own death.

I brought up Great Man history so let me plug one of those Great Men - Charlemagne. If you were gonna be boring about (IE an actual historian), you would look at how the Franks had been rising in local power for decades, and that Charlemagne used the foundation made by his grandfather and the relationship with Rome that had been fostered since the Merovingians to make the largest military powerhouse seen in the West since the fall of Rome. But if you were gonna be BASED AS FUCK (a bad historian but a good storyteller) you would write about how Charlemagne's personal brilliance and skill won the day. And the latter is exactly what Charlemagne would want you to think - so he had his legends made. Codifed centuries later as Chanson de geste, Charlemagne spent the majority of his time as Holy Roman Emperor myth-making about himself. Establishing epics, wondrous stories, and poems. Becoming more than himself and instead being Pater Europae

Roger Maxson: We need to do something bold. We can't just stay the US Army. What's going to happen, and this is only a matter of time, is some general, or some goddamned politician is going to exit a Vault and start ordering us around. And worse they'll order some grunt to start the whole damned cycle again. Another wave of nuclear death. And if that's not enough they'll do it again. You know they will, Lizzy. It ends with us. We won't let them.

Elizabeth Taggerdy: I... I understand. But a Brotherhood? Knights? I'm supposed to call you, what, Elder?

Roger Maxson: Words have power, Lizzy. They build identity. They take on a meaning if you keep using them, even if it didn't exist to begin with. It was the Knights and Scribes after the fall of Rome that protected what was left of Western civilization. So we are the new Knights and our role is similar. But we'll need more than names. We'll need new traditions, our own, well, mythology. Something people can believe to their core.

Elizabeth Taggerdy: Is this necessary?

Roger Maxson: What else can I do? Declare myself President? Make you a Senator? Look around. Something's killing us more than the rads and freaks out there. Depression. People have lost everyone. Every goddam soul. Wives, kids, loved ones, heck even the mailman. We need to replace it with something otherwise people's souls will wither. We'll be little more than walking dead men.

This quick move paid dividents to the Brotherhood as a whole and the Maxson family as a rule. America was a corrupt, bloated institution that would lead to its own death and cannibalization - so Maxson changed it. A cult of personality, a subculture independent from what came before it, a pseudo-monarchical meritocratic collectivistic state. Bound by their tenets and their Leader

Roger Maxson was a visionary, a man who knew that he had to become more than a man, had to become a symbol. And in fact, so did his entire Brotherhood. That what saved them from the ennui of the Enclave and NCR - they're something new, with their God King looking down at them. And it is this same legend and mythology that will allow for their unification under Arthur Maxson as the new High Elder. Two centuries later, people are still willing to join, fight, and sacrifice for the ideals of the Brotherhood and for the Name of Maxson, and with the adaption of some of Lyon's (and honestly, Roger Maxson's) strategies of recruitment, Arthur has ensured that they will keep going too.

If Maxson had instead simply become "Colonel Maxson of the US Army Remnant" I can guarantee he would be forgotten. But Roger Maxson, first High Elder, will be a name that never dies