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parkersbliss · 2 months ago

Note

Okay after the last request I am official kinda obsessed with the American! reader one shots! I was wondering if you could one where the boys learn that reader knew Graves somehow from back home? Like they find pictures of them together and reader is like “Oh that’s my ex!/friend” and we see the boys reaction? I love your writings sm!!🫶🏽🫶🏽

babe I am SO sorry for the wait. college was kicking my ass. but like oh my god I love this request. I love it so much I wrote 2,000 words! thank you so much!! xx

TO THE GRAVE(S)

PAIRING: task force 141 x female!american!reader WARNINGS: phillip graves, implied ex relationship with ghost / price, mentions of death and violence, frat boy graves thoughts A/N: I got SO carried away with some of the au's of reader and graves. sorry gang he's my baby girl

Masterlist | Taglist | Requesting (open for cod!)

Gaz:

The space you shared with Gaz was empty, to say the least. You had recently moved in, so it made sense. You couldn’t stand it. You had been sitting for hours with your boyfriend on the couch, ordering various pieces of furniture. You were lucky you even had a bed.

Thus was the process of moving in, especially with a sergeant who had to try and time it for when he was home. You wouldn’t trade it for anything, though.

Sure, the space was blank, a few things from your previous place, but nothing that screamed The Garrick’s (or soon to be).

This leads you to sit on the couch you took from Kyle’s, box in your hand as you search for some photos to frame and hang up. Something to signify people lived here.

Kyle is sitting next to you, arm slung over your shoulder as he continues browsing for furniture. He listens to you talk when you find a photo that triggers a memory, loving the excited gleam in your eye as you talk about your high school days.

That was until you pulled out a certain photo.

He nearly does a double take as you hold it up, head tilting to the side as you examine it. “Who’s that?” He asked as nonchalantly as possible. You could hear the strain in his voice though and raise a brow. You turn back to the photo of you and Phillip side by side, leaning against each other and flashing a four on your fingers like some frat boys.

“Phillip,” You said. “He was a good friend.”

“Was he?” Kyle snorts, unable to hide the obvious disdain for the man. How dare someone as vile, putrid, and untrustworthy as he ever lay hands on his girl. You, his sweet, beautiful girlfriend.

You roll your eyes, setting the photo on the table. “He was just a friend, babe. Seriously. I only knew him because I was sophomore class president, and he was senior.”

Kyle grabs the photo from the table. “You look a little more than friends.”

“I have actual exes, you know.”

“None as bad as him.”

You furrow your brows, plucking the photo from his hands. “You don’t even know him. He was smart, funny, charis—”

“Okay!” Kyle huffs, cutting you off and you blink in surprise. He was never this harsh with you, and certainly not over things in the past.

“What is this about?”

Kyle sighs, leaning back on the sofa with crossed arms. He tried to keep you out of his work life. Hidden away in your flat in London, a quiet corner of the world where he was Kyle and not Gaz. Knowing Graves had experienced some semblance of the peace you brought irked him. It shouldn’t bother him, because, like you said, it was a while ago. Still, the burn from his betrayal is charred.

“You remember that day I called you panicking over Soap and Ghost?” He asked. “They were in Mexico.”

“Yeah.”

“They were being hunted by an opposing military team,” He starts, gently grabbing your hand. “Shadow company.” He can see the confusion in your eyes. The wariness as you’re unsure where he’s going with this. “Graves runs that company.”

There’s a heavy beat of silence. You weren’t really attached to him. Again, just class presidency stuff. You would’ve probably never thought about him again if you hadn’t seen the photo. “You know,” You finally said, voice bouncing off the empty walls. “I always did think he was a little power crazy.”

Kyle nearly cries in relief, grabbing you in his arms as he buries his face in your neck, and you giggle. “You have no idea.”

Ghost:

Simon prided himself on being a good partner to you. His entire existence was tethered to you and the smile on your face. He did his best to make sure it stayed there. He was always gentle with you when he was upset, never yelling. There was a certain softness you brought out in him, and he adored it. Now, Simon was still a jealous man. He hated to see others looking at you with nothing but lust in their eyes. But when you would turn around to face him, eyes brimming with love only for him, it didn’t matter.

Except for this time.

You’re lying in bed with him, flipping through your yearbook from high school. Your friend had texted you earlier in the day about how one of your old friends had just had a baby with someone you least expected. Thus prompting you to scour the yearbook for this “guy.” And then you just fell down the rabbit hole of past memories.

You’re tucked into Simon’s side, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and head leaning against yours as you point out various pictures.

His breath halts when your finger traces over a certain one, a small frown tugging at the corner of your lips.

He would recognize the face of Graves anywhere. Even if it was your yearbook from a youth spent in the South. What are the odds?

Simon’s free hand balls into a fist as he takes in the photo and its implications. Graves is in a football uniform, giant 01 on his jersey. He’s younger, with no stubble or scar on his cheek but otherwise the same cocky smile. The same one Simon had mistaken as friendship and later realized it was all deception. Grave’s has got you sitting on his shoulder, bright smile and arm raised with a pom-pom as you cheer.

“That’s Phillip,” You said. Of course, when you talked about your ex Phillip, you meant that Phillip.

Simon clicks his tongue in response, voice gruff. “You look happy.”

You sigh, moving the yearbook to rest on the bed. “I was.”

Simon’s calm on the outside, but truly, he was a tea kettle boiling over. Every glance at that damned photo sent him a little more towards the edge. He had wanted to throttle Graves not so long ago, and now? It was worse knowing he was that Phillip. The ex that left you torn apart.

“He was good for a while,” You admit. “It was all rainbows and unicorns. He was the kind of player that runs up and kisses you after a touchdown.” Simon’s lip twitches. “Then he left for the Marines, and he was never the same.” You lean more into Simon, unaware of the rage churning inside him. “I think the war changed him, Si. He was so angry after and I realized he just wasn’t the same.”

Should he tell you? The man that broke your heart was, in fact, also his enemy? That they’d come face to face, and Soap had killed him? That war had changed Phillip into a power-crazy, lap dog, sociopath?

“I just hope wherever he is now, he’s okay.”

Well, that settles it. Simon watches as you close your yearbook, still frowning, and he knows telling you would be worse.

“I’m sure he is,” Simon said, squeezing your shoulder. “I’m sure he got everything he ever wanted.” There’s a double meaning there, but you don’t catch it. You have no idea that your ex has been presumed dead. Ironically, Simon doesn’t know he’s alive.

You kiss your boyfriend on the cheek. “I’m always so grateful you come from deployment the same. You’re too good to me.”

That’s simply not true. Simon could always be a better man — for you. His hand cups your face, and he places a kiss on your lips.

Soap:

Johnny’s hands shake as he holds his phone. There was no way, no fucking way he was seeing this right. He’d been putting off a visit to the eye doctor for a while, but it couldn’t be this bad. He must be imagining things. Otherwise, how else do you explain that his girlfriend is clearly posing in a photo with his mortal enemy?

He had lost it. The head injuries had finally caught up with him.

He repeats that like a mantra even after he zooms in and out on the Instagram post and stalks your best friend's page for clues.

Cue Johnny’s with about an inch of space between his sight and the phone when you walk in.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, and you’re leaning against the doorframe, brow raised. “Whatcha got there, bubs?”

Johnny’s head snaps in your direction, phone slamming down on the table. “What?” His accent is thick.

“What’s on your phone?” You walk over towards him, plucking the device out of his hand and examining the photo of you, your best friend, and Phillip. It must be some school event because all three of you are in blue tutus, green and blue face paint, and more accessories of the same color. “Oh my god,” You laugh. “I haven’t seen this photo in years.”

Johnny’s brows furrow. “Why—,” He coughs. “What is it?”

“It was our homecoming game,” You said, still looking over the photo fondly. “The student section where we stood had like leaders that would direct chants and stuff. Phillip was one, and this was his last game doing it so we went all out.”

You said it so casually. The name of the man who had put his head on a bounty. He wasn’t mad at you, of course. Clearly, this was a time before the present Graves. Still, the coincidence — the idea — irked him. He never told you about Mexico. Johnny didn’t want to worry you about it. Besides, when he was home, he’d rather listen to you talk about happier things. And Graves was dead now.

“Haven’t seen him in years, though. He’s some CEO now of a private company. Jenna doesn’t really talk to him much anymore. Says he’s like really busy.”

“Jenna?” Johnny questioned, referring to your best friend. “She’s still… in contact?”

You give him a funny look, setting the phone down on the table. “Yeah? It’s her brother, after all.”

Johnny’s eyes doubled in size, spluttering. “What? That’s Jenna’s brother?” He was aware your best friend had a brother, older, a good friend of yours. But he never gave it much thought than that. She was married, so her last name had changed. If that was the case… she couldn’t be in contact with him. He was dead. Johnny would know. He killed him. “Bloody fucking hell, babe,” Johnny mumbles.

“What’s going on?”

Johnny shakes his head. “She doesn’t know what he does?”

“I don’t know! He doesn’t talk about his work. Who cares?”

Your boyfriend grabs your hands, pulling you into the seat across from him. “When was the last time she talked to him?”

“What is happening?”

“Love.”

You’ve never seen your boyfriend look so panicked. Sweat was beading on his forehead, hands shaking in yours, and his accent much harder to understand. “The holidays.”

“Fuck!” He drops your hands, standing up and running a hand through his mohawk. He wasn’t dead.

“Can you just tell—”

“Phillip Graves owns a private military company that tried to kill me in Mexico.”

Silence as you stand there dumbfounded. Your best friend's brother was… he was bad.

You eventually approach your boyfriend, grabbing the hand that was running through his hair. “I didn’t know.”

Johnny embraces you tightly, pushing your head into his chest. “I’m not mad at you, love. Just got some unfinished business now.”

He kisses your forehead, swaying you side to side, a plan forming deep in his cortex. One to kill him once and for all.

Price:

There was a reason John Price was called a captain. He was a natural leader, someone who commanded the attention of those around him. Still, that wasn’t enough to warrant running his own team. To be responsible for others' lives took more skills. He was a good decision-maker under pressure. He could control his emotions better than others. He wasn’t rash when it came to the lives of others. That’s what made him a good leader.

It’s also what made him a great husband. He was a gentle giant with you. Every decision you make, from the color of the walls to the couch in your living room, was made with thorough consideration.

It’s what you loved most about John. Being around him made you calm. You can't even think about a moment in your relationship when you’d seen him harsh and yelling.

You were both sitting on the couch, some sports game playing on the TV in the back. You’re leaning against him, flipping through a photo book. You had gotten a few prints back from your wedding photographer and had filled them into your wedding book and then got distracted but the others. You and John were sentimental people, and you took it upon yourself to create memory books to show your kids one day.

John hadn’t really seen yours since they ended up getting made by you and stuck on a shelf. So, here you were, lecturing him on all the years of your life he hasn’t been present. Truthfully, he knew most of the stories, but he enjoyed listening to you talk and the small facts you’d sneak in.

“And then we lost this meet horribly. I think Layla got injured and went out.” You flip the page, various photos of you and your teammates on the mat.

John hums, leaning over you to look at the photos. “That must suck.”

You shake your head. “Depends if you got the cute athletic trainee that day or not. I think a lot of girls faked injuries to see him.”

Your husband laughs, a deep rumble you feel next to him. “You got a picture?”

You flip through a couple pages until you find him. You snort at the photo. You’re sat on the floor of the gym, leg extended and bandaged from whatever injury you had sustained. A young boy is next to you, kneeling with his arms wrapped around your upper half and leaning his head against yours. John’s brow twitches slightly as he sees the widesmile on your face, and small hands clasping the arm of your… ex.

What’s even more concerning is the recognition brewing in the back of his head. He uses a hand to gesture for you to hand him the book. You do, and he holds it up to his eyes, scanning for why this guy was so familiar. Ashy blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and a grin that he wants to wipe off. It’s only when he catches a glimpse of the name on the upper corner of his jacket does it hits him.

“Graves.”

“How’d you know his name?” You asked with surprise.

“Saw it on the jacket,” John answered with ease. His fingers itch to rip the photo to shreds.

You hum, sliding the book back from him. “He was really popular. Took the athletic training class for fun his senior year and then had to do the internships at games.”

John huffs. “You dated?”

You shrug, offering no real sort of attachment to him. “Sort of. Was more like a few weeks, couple games, Valentine’s Day.”

“Seems like a good lad.”

“I guess. There was something kind of off about him, though. But everyone at school loved him.”

John quirks a brow at that, pressing his head to yours as he glances at the photo again. “What do you think he’s up to now?”

You tap your chin in thought, pushing the book to the side. “Probably some power-crazy CEO.”

John laughs, threading a hand through your hair. If only you knew. He wouldn’t tell you. He saw you didn’t really care for him. Probably hasn’t thought about him in years. Your husband plans to do the same. “I bet he is.”

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taglist: @looking1016 @Bitchyzombietaco @lilwinchester67 @crypticlxrsh @echo9821 @trxpslxt @the-kakawshi-bird @lucienofthelakes @Ahailstorm007 @gaz-oline

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bitterrfruit · 26 days ago

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i've never done a wip wednesday but i thought it would be fun, so here's a wip ghost x reader oneshot lol

Simon hadn’t accounted for a bird at the till.

He’d have expected some ruddy-cheeked man with buck teeth and brown-bordered sweat stains on his shirt. The typical clerk at a shithole backroads petrol station, in his experience. They’d shoot him a grimy look, eye him up-and-down with a curl in their lip, all ruffian until he brandished the Sig Sauer he had tucked in the waistband of his jeans.

That was what he had prepared for. He came to stick the gunmetal barrel in the face of the old bloke behind the register, demand every stack of cash from the till drawer and anything valuable he had on his person, maybe fire at the ceiling if he moved too slowly. Piece of cake. In and out.

Instead, it was you.

Sneakers propped up by the register, sucking the crisp dust off your fingers with those pink lips. Reading a book as disinterestedly as you might watching paint dry.

Unlucky for you, it didn’t make a difference that you had a pair of tits. He wanted that money.

Your chary little head poked up from behind the counter once he was done collecting his supplies. A few cans of Baked Beans, couple bags of crisps, some vacuum-sealed biersticks. A roll of gauze and a bottle of Dettol for the flesh wound in his thigh. Pack of tissues. Bic lighter. KitKat for a treat. All shoved in the leather duffle bag he held in his fist, heavy with the wads of cash he had already collected from the last pit-stop on his trip north — an offy in a piss-stained back alley in Birmingham. Grabbed a few pilsners for the road from there, too.

He forsook his urgency as he approached the register, measured pace, duffle in hand. Eyeing you up with each step as if you were a candybar on a display rack.

Pretty wee thing.

He hadn’t even shown you his gun yet, and your eyes were already peeled wide, glistening in the bright fluorescent lights hanging overhead.

None of the goods he intended to pay for. He didn’t need to make that any more clear to you, the guess plastered itself on your face as he loomed towards you. Had his mask on, after all; thick black ski mask pulled over his head, jagged holes cut out for his eyes. No doubt that made quite plain his intentions.

You stood pin straight, curling the purple cord of your earbuds between your fingers as if some attempt to ground yourself. Not a drop of makeup on, he could see the satin sheen of sweat on your forehead, the plum rings unconcealed under your eyes. Nobody to impress out here. Still pretty.

“Um, which pump?” You asked flatly, tone meek, in denial of the obvious.

Your stupefied stare followed his hand as it ventured to the base of his sweatshirt, a frown fluttering in your brows as you all but tilted your head in frightened confusion. He reeled up the heavy fleece, white t-shirt underneath — but that wasn’t what your eyes clung to.

His hand curled around the grip of his handgun, plucking it out from the waistband and holding it insouciantly at his side. No need to point it at you, not yet.

Your skin turned cadaver grey as your blood flooded to your feet, eyes bulging with the instantaneous panic that wracked you as though you had been smacked in the face with it.

“Oh my god — ohm — oh my god,” you squeaked, tongue knotting in your mouth, tears quick to fill your kitten eyes. “Oh my god — y-you—”

It was this, the histrionics, that he hoped to avoid. The tears, Christ, the fucking tears. There wasn’t anything to cry about, not yet, but your eyes glowed sanguine, and the tears that oozed from them were clear and glittery. Rolled dramatically from their wells and dripped from your chin, seeped into the corners of your trembling mouth. All flushed and glossy and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

There was no blood-curdling outburst, though. You didn’t scream, didn’t wail, didn't scurry around hysterically like a decollated hen. You were stiff as a board, arms pinned flat to your sides. Merely whispered the Lord’s name in vain over and over as if he might answer your call.

“Please — ohmygod — please don’t hurt me,” you cried, lungs seizing with every word, hiccuping and spluttering like you had just been pulled ashore. “What do you want, you can — you can take anything. P-please—”

“Shut up,” he barked, and you flinched at his abrupt aggression. “Open the fuckin’ till.”

#ghost x reader #wip #cod fanfic #simon riley x reader

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 10 months ago

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Charlie: "Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Yeah, Charlie?"

Charlie: "Holding hands like this is really really nice, as usual, especially after a desperate fight for our lives, so this isn't a complaint or anything-"

Charie: "-but I think your hand... is leaking??"

Vaggie: "That's blood, sweetie."

Niffty: "I like blood!"

Charlie: "That's a LOT of blood?"

Vaggie: "Yeah. It happens when someone impales your hand to the floor with your own spear, and you want the spear back."

Angel Dust: "Only you, Vaggironi."

Charlie: "YOU'RE HOLDING MY HAND WITH THE HAND THAT GOT IMPALED!?"

Vaggie: "It still works. See?"

Charlie: "GaH- don't SQUEEZE IT!!!"

Niffty: (gigling) "Eww~"

Cherri Bomb: "Wow, someone put this girl in a slasher film."

Husk: "Fuck! It fucking squirted all over my fur!"

Angel Dust: "Ooh-"

Husk: "Not one. Shitty. Word."

Charlie: "SHIT!"

Husk: "That one doesn't count."

Charlie: "Fuck, shit- why is it still bleeding? The battle was hours ago! Shouldn't it be closed up by now!?"

Vaggie: "It might not ever, really. Heavenly steel and whatever."

Niffty: (peering through hole in vaggie's hand) "Oooooh~"

Charlie: "But it has to heal! It's- Niffty stop that- it's your HAND!"

Vaggie: "It's still attached so no big deal."

Charlie: "No big- Vaggie, there's a HOLE in you that I could stick my FINGER in!"

Angel Dust: "Just one? Wow, tight fit."

Vaggie: "Could've been worse."

Charlie: "WORSE-!?"

Cherri Bomb: "Angie, if they hear you and you get yourself killed on top of Pentious today, I'm gonna ugly cry and smear my running makeup and snot all over your stupid corpse."

Charlie: "- and you didn't even TELL ME I was putting a death grip on an open wound!"

Angel Dust: "That's so rude."

Vaggie: "The pressure was helping slow the bleeding anyway."

Husk: "Fucks of a feather fuck up together."

Charlie: "BUT IT ALSO HURTS DOSN'T IT?!??"

Angel Dust: "Aww Husky, would ya cry over me too-?"

Vaggie: "It's fine."

Husk: "Fuck you."

Charlie: "This is NOT fine!!"

Vaggie: (smiling at gf) "It doesn't hurt that much, babe, but I can wrap it up if you want."

Charlie: "No, I'll do it."

Charlie: (sighs)

Charlie: "...not like it's the first time I've gotten here too late, and only been able to bandage you up AFTER she's already hurt you..."

Vaggie: "Charlie..."

Charlie: "Nope! No angst right now- bandaging! I'll be gentle, okay?"

Angel Dust: "That's what she s-"

Angel Dust: "-OW CHERRI watch it with the elbows will ya!? That rib's BROKEN!"

Husk: "So's your fucking brain, dumbass."

Cherri Bomb: "He doesn't have one."

Charlie: "Well does anyone have a NON-BLOODSTAINED bit of cloth I can use for-?"

Niffty: (soaked in blood) "No~"

Charlie: "-AGUH NIFFTY! Stop looking through her hole like that!"

Angel Dust: "...."

Cherri Dust: "For the love of yourself, don't."

Angel Dust: "......I've got nothin'."

Husk: "Thank FUCK."

Vaggie: "Hey look, when I flex my hand the stab wound blinks."

Angel Dust: "Wait actually I'm gonna throw up."

Cherri Bomb: "An open bodily hole you DON'T like? Today really is just full of miracles..."

Vaggie: "I can make it talk." (holds up hand to gf) "Hi sweetie."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: ".... Sorry. I think I've lost a lot of blood."

Charlie: "Then let me blindfold and or gag your stab wound, before someone faints-"

Angel Dust: (THUD)

Charlie: "-just like that, great."

Cherri Bomb: "HA, oh that's priceless! Another fallen angel!"

Husk: "Why didn't you fucking catch him."

Cherri Bomb: "What am I, his boyfriend? You catch him!"

Husk: "I'm not that loser's boyfriend!"

Charlie: "Yet."

Husk: "THE FUCK YOU SAY??"

Vaggie: "Wait guys, pause the ship war-"

Husk: "FUCK YOU AND YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S SHITTY SHIPPING!"

Vaggie: "GUYS."

Vaggie: "Where's Niffty?"

Everyone: "........."

Everyone: (looks down at angel dust's unconscious body)

Niffty: (Squished) (one arm sticking out) (thumbs up)

#habin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #angel dust hazbin hotel #huskerdust #husk hazbin hotel #niffty hazbin hotel #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #silly #forgive vaggie- she's always a bit lightheaded around her gf #make it hard to spot signs of blood loss

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jaegeraether · 6 months ago

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 95)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (72) / Alexia Putellas x Character (47) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (27)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((4.6k))

LUCY POV

“Okay Luce, a kiss is fine, but the tongue is a little too much…” YFN said, pulling away and murmuring against her cheek. It was hard to miss the flashing of cameras around them and Lucy could tell she was feeling a little uncomfortable, most likely with her sling and knee brace. As her little Australian pressed her body into Lucy’s as if to hide herself from the cameras, she tightened her arms around her. She’d never be uncomfortable with Lucy, and that made her heart swell at the thought.

Lucy allowed herself a small chuckle. The sinking feeling of the Olympics had disappeared for the moment. She’d finally kissed her girl at a game. In front of friends and family. In front of the world.

She groaned into her.

“We have some special people to go see, Luce.”

Lucy blanked. “The… team? I wasn’t too mean to them…”

YFN squeezed tight before she pulled back and pet her forehead. “Lose a few brain cells with that header, did we?”

Lucy couldn’t help but grin at that cheeky expression of hers. She loved her cheeky. “Yes, you’re going to have to help me shower and feed me from now on.”

“LUCY!” Several small voices sounded. YFN turned in Lucy’s arms as they both watched Freddie and Alzira running towards them in front of the Bronze family. Jorge looked like he was chasing to catch them and give the couple their space, but he was failing in that task.

“Your special people…” YFN murmured, capturing Lucy’s cheeks between one hand and pecking her on the lips.

She stepped back out of her embrace just in time for the lunging children. Lucy fell dramatically to the ground and that excited them further as they leapt on her. It was exactly what she needed. Her special people.

“You did a goal!” Alzira cheeped as Lucy sat up to tickle her.

“I did! Did you see?”

“Yeah!”

“Rightttt here!” Freddie said, smacking her in the forehead. Lucy fell backwards like a starfish with her arms out and was rewarded with their little bodies falling onto her ribs.

“You’re not dead!”

“Wake up!”

She chuckled and sat up on her elbows, rubbing her forehead. “Is it red?”

“Yeah!”

“And so are your cheeks.” Freddie said, looking over at YFN. Although he didn’t really understand, he made a kissing sound.

Lucy rolled her eyes and looked over at her girl. Her parents were now standing by her and watching on, chatting away. Her mum said something and then shared a laugh with YFN as she gestured to Lucy. Her girl blushed slightly and pressed her lips together to cover it. She caught Lucy’s eye and the footballer gave her a look that said she knew what she was thinking.

Jorge and Charis came over to try and calm the excited kids while Sophie and her girlfriend came over to console her.

“Great game, sis,” Sophie said, offering her a hand up. Lucy was a mess of sweat and fatigue, but managed to get back to her feet with the help.

“Nice header!” Jorge grinned, slapping her on the back.

“Just needed one more,” she said a little more understanding than dejected this time.

“Football is ruthless, sis. You know that better than anyone.”

She hummed a response, her eyes on YFN as they approached. Her arm went out towards YFN when Lucy’s mum grabbed her around the neck and pulled her down into a hug. “Oh honey, you did so well!”

Lucy knew how well she played and struggled against herself to not roll her eyes. “Thanks mum.”

Her hand still out searching, found YFN’s and held onto it. It was like a calming agent to her.

When her mother was done fussing over her, she greeted her dad also.

Lucy stepped back and into YFN’s space as soon as she could, her arm around her own, their fingers tangled. It didn’t feel close enough.

Sophie pointed to their tangled hands, waggling her finger between them. “What’s this, then? Fully public now?”

“Get out of it, Soph.” Lucy responded, rolling her eyes.

“Lucy!”

Lucy looked over to where the team were standing about to huddle. The voice had come from Sarina, gesturing her over.

The group huddle felt like the negativity of their failure. She sighed. YFN let go of her hand and rubbed her back, encouraging her forward. “Off you go, Luce. We’ll be right here.”

Lucy bent down in front of her and YFN got the hint, giving her a peck on the cheek.

God, her lips.

She wandered over to the group as they did their huddle. Sarina gave a speech, and they all accepted that maybe time off during the Olympics would be just what they needed.

“Now onto some positivity for the group, ja?” Sarina encouraged. She gestured to Leah and Jordan, and the family and friends who were around. “Our girls fought hard today and did us all proud. We’ll come back even better. But for now, let’s celebrate the victory with our Player of the Match… Lucy!”

Lucy knew she played well, but still, she was surprised. LJ had scored a brace. She dragged her feet over to where Sarina was holding the trophy and took it with the best smile she could muster for the photo.

Usually she would give a speech, but not tonight. The girls could all see that. Lucy said her thanks and looked around the crowd to spot her girl who was now holding Lucy’s jacket. Thank god – she was getting freezing with her sweat covered body in the cool night air. She went straight over to her and handed the award to Freddie who had his hands out.

“Thanks, little one.” She said as she took the jacket and zipped it up. She came around behind her and wrapped her arms around the warmth of her as Sarina continued to speak of how proud she was of the girls.

“And now, we have dinner and celebrate together. Before we go - would anyone else like to say anything?”

She looked around at the girls who looked defeated, though encouraged by the speeches. They all shook their heads. Sarina’s eyes landed on Leah. “Leah?”

Leah stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Yes, actually.”

Lucy felt YFN get excited in her arms. Leah turned to look at Jordan and held her hand out. The shy Jordan took it and stepped up next to her.

“Last night I asked Jordan to marry me… and she said yes.”

JORDAN POV

“Are you sure you should be drinking that…?” Jordan started.

YFN looked up from her laptop and Lucy grunted into her wine. “I need to pregame this Lioness lunch with Alessia today, plus, I deserve it.”

YFN leant over and kissed her shoulder. “You certainly do.”

“Have you ever seen Lucy drunk?” Jordan quizzed, teasingly.

YFN thought for a second. “Actually… I don’t think so. I’ve seen her tipsy, but not drunk. Always impossible during season, and she doesn’t like alcohol anyways.” She paused and tilted her head at Jordan and Leah’s expressions. “Why? Is she a menace?”

“You could say that again.”

YFN turned to Lucy who gave an innocent look followed quickly by a cheeky grin and shrug.

The Australian rolled her eyes, but it was clear that she was curious.

Jordan gave a yawn and a stretch as she sat with her back against the plane, her legs dangled over Leah’s lap. Leah had been giving her looks since they’d outed their engagement to the team, and she was now absentmindedly stroking her legs which made Jordan feel giddy. She parted them slightly, and Leah noticed, her fingers sliding further up the inside of her leg under the table.

Jordan felt a little guilty. She wanted Leah, obviously, but it was a bit difficult in the private aircraft.

“What are you doing?” Jordan asked YFN.

“Organising this event for Saturday…” she murmured, her eyebrows furrowed as she focused on what she was typing. “Expanding roles of the team and organising the rostering so we’re covering as many matches as possible.” She stopped typing to look over the top of her laptop and smile. “What’s on your mind, Dory?”

Jordan scoffed. “You know me too well.”

“Mmnhmn.” She replied, waiting patiently.

“Well… Lucy will be going back to Spain soon and Leah is headed back to London.. so I was just wondering if you’re coming home?”

YFN gave a cute smile. The one that made Jordan feel seen and heard. “I’ve thought about this.. and I think the best bet will be London in the office from Monday to Wednesday, with every other day at home in Birmingham as it’s so central to be able to travel between the games.”

“Can you limit the travel at all?” Lucy asked, looking worried given her condition.

“Actually, I was thinking of getting a driver to take that pressure off. That way I can continue to work during the drives…”

Lucy gave an impressed look. “It’s perfect. I can pay-”

“-no, love.” She chuckled with a reassuring look. “Thank you, Luce.. but this will be on the company. I spoke to Cath-” she corrected herself, shaking her head. “-Joe about it already.”

Lucy nodded leaning in and kissing her temple.

“What’s happening with you two?” YFN asked, looking between the pair.

“We’ve spoken about moving clubs.. but it’s best to stay where we are.” YFN nodded at that, looking like she’d expected it. “I’m going to give football two more years and see if I can make the Euros team.” Leah gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you sure, Jords?” Lucy asked.

“I’m sure.” She said, confidently. Lucy gave her a sympathetic look, and Jordan struggled to contain her emotions at the thought of retiring. “It’s time. I’ll stay with Villa for play time and then.. I’m not sure what I’ll do for a job.”

YFN tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “It’s a shame that footballers give everything to the game and have a career-span that only lasts until your 30s. It’s unfair. But if you want, I’ll have plenty of opportunities for you if you wanted to join the media industry with me?”

Jordan’s heart swelled and she cleared her throat, nodding while she tried to find the words. “I think I’d like that.”

YFN gave her a wink. “I’ll look after you, Dory. Don’t worry about any of that, okay? You’ll have a job after football. And if you want to do something else instead, that’s fine too. We’re in this together. Okay?”

Jordan wiped the tears forming in her eyes. “Okay. Th…thank you.”

She turned to look at Leah who was still stroking her legs, though now with her head against the chair, smiling at her. “See? Everything will work out.”

Jordan nodded, collecting herself.

“Did we have any other plans we want to share with our friends?”

Jordan chuckled, turning back to the pair. “Well after I retire, I’ll be 33 and Leah will be 28. We’re hoping she’ll play into her mid-thirties-”

“-I may need some pointers,” Leah interjected, directed at Lucy.

Lucy chuckled. “I can definitely help you with that.”

“-we won’t be getting any younger.” Jordan continued. “So… we were going to have kids when I retire.”

YFN closed her laptop without looking at it. “Babies?! Little Leah’s and Jordan’s running around?”

Leah shifted Jordan’s legs off of her and moved closer, taking her head and kissing her lovingly on the cheek in support. “Yeah,” she said. “It feels right. And with my endo…”

“I’ll carry,” Jordan finished when Leah didn’t. “And if it doesn’t work out like that, then we’ll adopt.”

“They may be able to see Leah playing…” YFN said dreamingly.

“I’m hoping so! I want to bring them to the games to see their mum play.”

Leah’s hand found her thigh again under the table and slipped in between her legs. She almost jumped. Clearly talk of their future was exciting her.

“That’s the dream, isn’t it?” YFN murmured, looking at Lucy.

“Have you two spoken about kids?”

YFN blushed, and they shared a look about something that clearly was just between them.

“Uh, yeah. Yep. We want kids.”

“A tribe.” Lucy said, confidently knowing what she wanted.

Jordan found it amusing.

“But we haven’t been together long…” YFN said. Lucy frowned.

“As if that matters,” Leah opinionated, rolling her eyes. “You two were made for each other.”

“Trust me, we feel it too. But right now, I’m injured. I’m building this company and my career. I’d want to be married first. And we aren’t even living together. Lucy’s in Spain…” She sighed, exasperated. “But we have Christmas to look forward to. My Nan and brother are coming over, and will meet Lucy and her family for the first time… and then Ridley was supposed to be coming, so I’m not sure what’s happening there. I imagine she’ll want to spend it with Alexia.”

“It’s going to be an amazing Christmas.” Lucy said. “I have a charity I support which has me at a few children’s hospitals on Christmas Eve, and then we’ll all have Christmas together for a good few weeks. Your first white Christmas.. so it’s a lot to look forward to.”

YFN smiled at that and looked back at the pair. “Trust me, there’s nothing I want more than to have little Bronze menaces running around, but I want to get this company to a more autonomous, self-sustaining level first. Plus, I wouldn’t want to raise children in instability. I’d want us to have a plan and be living together in a house that will be their childhood home, you know?”

“In Spain?” Leah asked.

“That is the plan…”

“It was the plan,” Lucy corrected. “But as of late I’ve been thinking that if I’m to continue playing for as long as possible, then I need a less packed schedule, less travelling, and better medical care. So I think at the end of this contract, I’ll come back to the UK.”

YFN was surprised. “Really?”

“Back to the WSL?!” Jordan asked, excited at the idea.

Lucy smiled at YFN, and then at the pair opposite. “I think it’s for the best. I’ll be close to family. The kids can be born in the UK. And Spain can come later, or become a vacation spot. I’m not sure, there’s a lot to talk about. But it’s what I’m thinking is best for everyone.” YFN squeezed Lucy’s arm, looking a whole spectrum of emotions about the idea, but primarily happy, it seemed. “And YFN will be stuck in the UK for a period while they build Lumos. And I don’t want to be apart from her longer than I have to. So… yes. That’s my thought.”

“Work will take up a lot of my time for the next few years…” she admitted.

“By ‘a few years’, do you mean two?” Leah asked.

She smiled softly, picking up the meaning. “I hope you two can deal with us being pregnant at the same time.”

Leah’s hand slid further up, her fingertips pressing on Jordan’s clit through her shorts and rubbing just enough to be frustrating.

“Pray for us.” Lucy muttered, sharing a look with Leah. They chuckled.

“Aaaanyways. I need to duck off.” Leah removed her hand and stood, waiting. “Jord?”

YFN raised her eyebrow, giving them a knowing look. Lucy was too busy looking at the snack items to notice as Jordan stood and took Leah’s hand, letting her drag her to the bathroom.

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Leah was close to her. Really close.

“L…Lea?”

“You can’t just talk about our future together and not expect me to get excited, Jord.” Leah said before kissing her.

It was hot. Needy. A kiss most definitely only shared in private. Jordan gasped into her mouth as Leah bit her lip and backed her against the sink. There wasn’t much room to play with, but she knew that wouldn’t stop Leah. Her hands found the back of Jordan’s thighs and picked her up, sitting her on the sink.

“Leah, your knee,” she protested on deaf ears.

“I need you.” She responded greedily. Captain Leah. In command Leah. Jordan felt herself almost dripped at that.

Hands were roaming, Jordan’s clothes disappearing with her barely noticing. Her tits were suddenly out to the cool air of the plane and Leah was quick to take one in her mouth. She sucked for a while, her hands still roaming, and then moved onto the second. While that was happening, her shorts and underwear were being removed in one swift movement. She could barely keep up.

Before Jordan had a chance to even find words, Leah was on her knees, her hands gripping the back of Jordan’s legs and her mouth hungrily attaching itself to her clit.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck! Lea…” She moaned at the suddenness of it all.

Jordan spread her legs so Leah had better access and didn’t fight when one of her thighs was taken up over her girl’s shoulder. She did worry about Leah’s knee but one look down at her and she wasn’t concerned. Leah was so focussed on Jordan. On tasting her. On fucking her. So focussed that she probably didn’t notice Jordan sweeping the blonde hair back out of her face so she could see her better.

Leah was always good with her mouth. Incredibly so. And it made it better, the fact that she was so in tune with Jordan’s body. She knew what she needed and exactly what she liked. She teased every single outer area of her clit, enough to have Jordan’s entire body tingling, before she gave attention to the most sensitive, needy part of it. She was soft, so as to not get it too sensitive, but she was still hungry and knew what she wanted from her.

As her tongue swiped over her little bundle of nerves with the perfect amount of pressure and pace, Jordan felt herself building towards her inevitable orgasm. Leah knew this, because she knew her. Her fingertips gently caressed up the sensitive sides of her body to her tits where one hand grabbed and kneaded, her thumb stroking over the nipple as her other hand came back down again just as slow and tantalisingly.

“F…f…fuck. Lea, I’m going to come.”

Leah didn’t say anything, but her flat tongue changed to just the tip, and exactly where Jordan needed it.

“Don’t stop,” she managed to get out hurriedly as she felt herself just about to- “AHHH fuck, Leah.”

Jordan gripped onto her hair with one hand and the sink behind her with the other as she came, shuddering into Leah’s mouth. Her tongue went flat again and rocked back and forth ever so slightly with a harder pressure against her clit to steady her sensitive nerves while she came. When Jordan’s hand relaxed in her hair, she kissed her clit and pulled back, looking up at the now-flushed and dazed Jordan.

She groaned and leant back as Leah got to her feet. There was still this hunger in her eyes that she hadn’t seen for a while.

Jordan slipped off the sink and grabbed her, their mouths coming together again hot and heavy, the taste of Jordan on Leah's tongue was beyond sexy. Her hands now roamed Leah’s body, her face, neck, tits, waist. Her shirt came off and she allowed it, and shortly after, Jordan pushed her pants and underwear down low enough to feel her. God, she was wet. Hot. Excited. Jordan’s fingers slipped past her folds to feel her, two fingers circling the outside of her entrance and then dragging up, either side of her clit.

Leah grumbled, frustrated and removed her hand, turning Jordan around to face the sink. She gripped the sink as Leah’s hand on her back pressed her down. She pulled her ass back and spread her legs apart with her own. Jordan watched in the mirror as Leah sucked two of her fingers, with one hand on the back of her neck and the other tracing down her back and over her ass. Jordan’s body moved forward against the sink as Leah’s wet fingers slid inside her, stretching her out just slightly. Just enough to have her eyes rolling back and her head dropping to take it.

The outrageously wet slapping sounds of Leah’s fingers in and out of Jordan’s smaller body gave away just how horny she was for the footballer. She whimpered and moaned, her back arching and her body pushing back against her hand as she fucked her.

Since getting back together, they hadn’t had sex like this, and until that moment, Jordan didn’t realise how much she’d missed it.

She reached back and touched Leah, the younger woman allowing her to now, and even rocking into her hand. She teased around her clit, Leah practically dripping onto her fingers. Leah’s hand released her neck and instead wound Jordan’s hair around her hand, using her forearm against her back to keep her body down while she pulled her head back to look into the mirror.

As her head was pulled back, Jordan realised by just how little Leah was actually hanging on. She breathing was erratic, her face flushed and lips trembling. Her expression was less hungry and more desperate. Teetering on the edge.

Jordan applied just slightly more pressure to her clit as she stroked it steadily, knowing that she didn’t like it too fast.

“I… can’t. I can’t.” Leah fought with herself, so close to coming, and yet wanting Jordan to get off too.

Jordan felt her body clenching. She was right there at the edge.

One more look at Leah in the mirror and realising that she was going to spend the rest of her life with her, Jordan came around her fingers, somehow managing to draw Leah’s from her as she did so.

They both gasped their moans and orgasms as they regained their breath. Leah’s arms wrapped around Jordan from behind and she cuddled into the back of her, grunting her relief.

They stayed like that for a while. Eventually, Jordan turned in her arms and held her back.

“Where on earth did that come from?”

Leah chuckled against her collarbone. “I just love you.”

Jordan nodded against her in understanding, knowing she didn’t expect to hear it back. She already knew how Jordan felt. Not long later, she felt her naked body begin to get too cold, and Leah felt her shiver.

“We need to get you dressed.”

Jordan dressed as Leah washed her hands and fixed herself up. She stood by the door waiting patiently, and Jordan gestured to it. “It’s okay, I need to pee. Can you get us a cuppa?”

Leah smiled and stepped forward for a kiss before leaving.

As the door opened, and she stepped outside, all Jordan could hear was Lucy shouting from the table. “Welcome to the mile high club, kids!”

ALEXIA POV

The sun was just rising over the cliffs of the island as Ridley landed. Alexia and Chiquito watched, still playing around with her football on the sand as she taxied in and hooked up to the buoy. Just as she touched land and dragged the dinghy up, she was almost caught off guard at the football flying her way. She managed to keep it up with her feet and kick it straight back over to the pair effortlessly. Alexia liked to think that Ridley had gotten even better with it as they’d been playing so much. It was keeping her fresh and quick with her reactions and made her even more eager to get back on the field.

Though one look at Ridley walking over to her in shorts, a bikini top with an open shirt, and sunglasses keeping her hair back, and Alexia realised she could live like this the rest of her life.

Ridley caught her around the waist, pulling her close and kissing her. Her lips were soft with just a little sweetness to them, like she’d eaten some fruit, which she guaranteed she had.

“Mmn. Hi.”

“Where have you been?” Alexia asked. She’d woken up to an empty bed, with Chiquito looking equally as confused.

“I went to get you some breakfast. I know it’s been a while since you’d had something other than fruit and eggs,” she murmured against her lips. Ridley kissed her again. “And I managed to get myself an encrypted tablet which can’t be tracked… it won’t have internet but I did download both the Spanish and English games..”

Alexia stared at her. Ridley could think she was non-romantic all that she wanted, but she definitely was. Her heart swelled. “You’re the best.”

“Would you like to know the scores or just watch?”

“Don’t tell me the score.. just who won?”

“Both your Spanish girls, and the Lionesses won.” She murmured, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Alexia felt herself leaning into her hand. “They made the Olympics?”

Ridley gave a soft smile and shook her head. Alexia’s heart sunk for them. Lucy would be devastated.

“But Lucy seems in good spirits,” she said, as if reading her mind. “She had a luncheon event with Alessia Russo yesterday and she seemed happy. She was asked a lot of on the spot questions about Blue and you couldn’t wipe the smile off her face if you tried.”

“Why so many questions?”

“Ah… they kissed on the field.”

Alexia was impressed. It was a big move for her teammate. She wondered if Ridley would ever want that. She knew she wouldn’t care about the public part, though someone in her field of work usually kept a low profile. Ridley was a little different, managing to hide in plain sight with her company, though it was a topic that she’d been meaning to broach.

Ridley looked at her as if knowing the question in her head. She gave her that cocky look and reached back, taking an iced coffee from her side of her backpack and giving it to Alexia.

“Any other news?” She asked as she took a sip.

Ridley stepped back looking her up and down with dark eyes unashamedly. She bent down to greet an eager Chiquito rubbing himself on her legs. “Leah and Jordan are engaged.”

The coffee sprayed from her mouth and the grey cat managed to dodge it.

“We haven’t been in reception for 2 days and this all happens?!”

“Mmnhmn.”

“We need to get back..” she found herself murmuring.

“Tomorrow, Lex.” Ridley reassured. “Let’s just enjoy our last day here..”

She took her hand and kissed it, leading her to the hammock outside the front of their hut. The guitar Ridley had been messing around with the night before was leaning up against the tree near it.

The Australian set her bag down as Alexia climbed onto the hammock with her coffee. Ridley settled between her legs, Alexia’s arm draped over her, and Chiquito jumped up to curl himself onto Ridley’s lap. Without speaking they moved. Already understanding what was happening. It was something she’d never had in her life. She’d never known such peace.

Ridley put the little packages of breakfast next to them and propped the tablet up against Alexia’s knee, pressing play on the Spanish game.

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foundtherightwords · 27 days ago

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Fallen Empires - Epilogue

Pairing: Geta x OFC

Summary: Having done the unthinkable to secure his throne, Emperor Geta rules with ruthlessness and paranoia. Now, after escaping an assassination attempt, a badly injured Geta is saved by Daphne, a young widow, who takes him back to her remote village without knowing his true identity. As Daphne nurses the former emperor back to health, attraction blooms between them, and Geta discovers a soft side he didn't know he possessed. But can their love survive his thirst for revenge and his desire to reclaim power?

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter word count: 1.6k

Prologue + Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19

Read on AO3

Epilogue

A year later

The sun was dipping low behind the hills, and a hint of crispness in the air signified autumn was on its way. Geta fixed the bundle of linen more securely under his arm as he strolled to the edge of the pasture and whistled. Hearing the familiar signal, the animals all came over. At the head were Vulcan and his mate, Charis, a long-legged doe goat, both strolling sedately. Vulcan's brother had been traded for Charis, and now the black goat, despite the limp in his hind leg, was walking proudly as the leader of the herd. They were followed by Amalthea's three new kids, born just that spring, with Amalthea herself behind, and Midas taking up the rear, watching over them with the benevolent air of a beloved uncle.

Geta walked behind the animals, running through the things that needed doing around the house. There was the garden fence that needed fixing. One of the window shutters had broken and the hinges needed replacing. The goat pen was still without a roof. After what had happened to Vulcan, Daphne didn't want to risk leaving the animals out in the open again, even in the summer months, so Geta had been slowly building a pen for them—slowly, because he was learning as he went. He could have asked Mikkos or any of their neighbors for help, of course, but he wished to build something with his own hands for once in his life.

It still felt strange to Geta that he should concern himself with such trivial, mundane activities, he who had once had empires and armies and conquests on his mind. His empire had now been reduced to this hill with its little hut and gardens, and he welcomed the change.

The hut came into view, and as usual, no matter how many times he'd seen the simple thatch roof under the branches of olive and laurel, the mud-brick walls glowing like gold under the setting sun, they never failed to bring joy to his heart. It was home. A home he'd never had, and never thought he could have.

But that humble hut would never feel like home without Daphne, who was sitting on a bench outside the door, her head back, her eyes closed, basking in the warm late summer sun. She had kept her word and gone to meet Geta at the edge of the pasture every evening as he came home with the animals. Lately, as she grew big and heavy with child, he had asked her not to walk so far, but as was Daphne's wont, she insisted on meeting him anyway, even if it was just outside their front door.

Geta let the animals into their half-finished pen and approached his wife. Sensing his presence, Daphne stirred. "Romulus, is that you?" she said. His name, as written down by Master Kavos in the village census, was Romulus Publius, and Daphne still called him Romulus most of the time. Whenever she called him Geta, he knew he was in trouble.

"Here I am," he said.

She slowly opened her eyes, and here was another sight that never failed to set Geta's heart fluttering with happiness and gratitude—those green eyes, soft and shining with love as they rested on him. Every day Geta asked himself what he'd done to deserve the love from such a woman. He never found an answer, but he thanked the gods for her all the same.

Leaning down, he gave her a chaste and gentle kiss on the lips and placed his hand on her belly. "This baby should get here soon," he said, "because I'm tired of having to reach around him to kiss you."

"Or her," Daphne said, smiling sleepily at him.

"Or her," he agreed. He sat down next to her, kissed her belly, and then her lips again, not so gentle and not so chaste this time.

"Did you see my mother?" Daphne said, once they broke apart.

He handed her the bundle of linen. "She sent you some things for the baby and promised to come as soon as Mikkos and his wife have settled in."

Timon's death had been a blessing in disguise for his family. Without his dark presence holding them back, they were able to rebuild their own lives. Attikos, who found life in the village too dull after the army, had gone off with a merchant caravan, traveling up and down Syria and Judea, though he made sure to come back every few months or so, laden down with gifts for everyone and full of entertaining tales from his journeys. Mikkos had set up his own carpentry shop and married a nice girl from the village. As for Doumia, she had lost that haunted, frightened look that had hung over her like a veil when Geta first saw her and was having a grand time handing over the running of the household to her new daughter-in-law. When Geta asked her to come and help them during Daphne's confinement, Doumia had gladly accepted.

Daphne spread out the bundle and started sorting through the little pieces of fabric whose use was an entire mystery to Geta, but he enjoyed watching her nonetheless, delighting in the simple domestic scene and feeling excited about what that linen meant for them in the very, very near future. Only a little over a year ago, he would never have dreamed that a simple thing like watching his wife fold linen would bring him such fierce joy. He wouldn't even have dreamed of having a wife or a child. He had been the Emperor then, leading the Roman army against the Parthians. It seemed like such a long time ago that it had nothing to do with his life at present, and the person he had been back then was no more than a half-remembered dream.

"Is there any news in the village?" Daphne asked.

"There's news from Rome," said Geta. He'd heard it from Kavos and had been saving it to tell Daphne.

Hearing the serious tone in his voice, Daphne stopped fussing with the linen and looked up at him expectantly.

"Macrinus is dead," he began. Daphne's eyes widened as she waited, breathlessly, for him to continue. "My aunt, Julia Maesa, has raised an army to put her grandson, my cousin Varius Avitus, on the throne, and they have killed Macrinus and his son in Antioch."

"Recently?" Daphne's voice was hushed.

Geta shook his head. "Back in June," he said. News traveled slowly in these parts.

Daphne let out a long sigh and put her head on his shoulder. Geta realized then, as he wrapped his arms around her, that despite her strength and calm, she had been holding her breath for an entire year, waiting for an assassin to show up at their door at any moment. Now with Macrinus gone, they were finally, truly safe.

They were quiet for a while, just holding each other. Then Daphne spoke up, "This cousin of yours, how old is he?"

Geta tried to remember. Varius had still been wearing his bulla when Geta left Rome for the East; the boy couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen now. He told Daphne.

"Just a child then." She sounded rather sad. Geta remembered that he and Caracalla had been that age when they were named consuls alongside their father, but he refrained from pointing that out to Daphne. Besides, they had been children back then as well, not understanding the gravity of their positions. "Do you think he'd last?" Daphne asked.

"I don't know. I don't care. We're safe here, and that's all that matters."

Daphne raised her head to look at him more closely. "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"If you had gone to meet her in Hemesos, your aunt might have supported you and helped you reclaim the throne."

The thought had occurred to Geta. He shrugged. "Perhaps. But knowing Maesa, she is just as likely to have me quietly killed so she could put her grandson on the throne instead. She had always been jealous of my mother. My mother was the younger of the two, you see, yet she was married to an emperor and gave birth to two emperors." He fell quiet for a moment. The thought of Caracalla no longer made him cower with guilt and fear, but it still made him sad. "Though I have to say, being wife and mother to emperors had not done my mother any good. She died broken and alone. So... no. I don't regret it. Not one bit."

Daphne took his hand, caressing the remaining stump of his little finger, before lifting it to her lips. "You forgot, I'm also married to an emperor and about to give birth to a would-be emperor," she said, the hint of a smile in her voice. "It's not all bad."

"Only a former emperor, my sweet laurel," he reminded her, smiling. "That makes all the difference." He pulled her into his arms again and caressed her belly, as they both looked over the quiet hills, steeped in the last golden rays of the sun. "And our child doesn't need an empire to rule. Empires fall. So can emperors. But to be free, to rule one's own domain, to rule one's own mind and heart and soul? No one can take that away. That's what I've found here, with you. And that's all I want. For us and our child."

THE END

Varius Avitus is the birth name of Emperor Elagabalus, whose disastrous reign followed Geta and Caracalla's. He only lasted four years and was assassinated along with his mother by the Praetorians. So perhaps it was a good thing that Geta never appealed to his aunt for help.

Anyway, this wraps up the story of Geta/Romulus and Daphne. It has been such a wild ride, but through all the uncertainty and frustration with the source material, I still had fun writing it, and the response has blown me away. Thank you so much for coming along on this journey!

Taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92, @justnobodynothingmore, @barcelonaloverf1life, @myotakureprieve, @flawssy-227, @itsrainingbisexualfrogs, @deliciousfestsalad, @charmingballoon

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #gladiator 2 #emperor geta #gladiator 2 fic #emperor geta fic #geta #emperor geta x ofc #geta x ofc

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bloodinwine · 3 months ago

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I don't know you, I love you Chapter One: The Sweet Spot [read on a03] pairing: astarion X effy (female OC)

it's love at first sight except it doesn't feel like the first time

It was four-o-clock on a Sunday at The Sweet Spot. Everything was 10% off and they had a buy-one-get-one free deal on lube. Management (also known as Mama) had been trying to sell overstock for weeks but still refused to budge on markdown.

Goblin dildos were so 1799.

It was 1800 and orcs were in.

The store was dead.

From behind the counter, Effy was humming to a song playing off her Chest of Chords while zeroing in on the store’s front window–the only one it had. It gave her a rectangular view of the sky, as colorful as the wall of vibrators below it.

Oranges, pinks and purples.

When all the colors went away, Effy bid the sun farewell and another day of hours wasted.

“Hey.”

A set of keys were slapped onto the counter by a hand covered in dried paint.

Effy looked up at Charity who was pulling a hood over her bright, blue hair.

“I’m heading out now, you take over,” she said.

Effy stood up fast, red heels clacking as she tried to catch up to her sister already heading for the door. “Chari, no! Please don’t go. I don’t want to be by myself tonight. Can’t you just–”

Chari sighed. “Stop it, Eff. You know I’m running out of time to prepare for the gallery .”

Effy hugged Chari’s arm. “But what am I to do for the next three hours? We haven’t had a single customer in the last three. Not one.”

Chari pried herself free, which wasn’t hard for her to do; she was much stronger. “Well … maybe Pete from BG-Mobile will come over to pay a visit.”

Effy cringed, her whole body rejecting the thought. “Okay, you can go now.”

“Don’t forget to drink water, love you, bye.”

“Don’t forget I’m your favorite sister, love you, bye.”

The bell above the door chimed as Chari left and the door closed behind her.

Effy sighed and walked to the window’s edge, checking to make sure Chari got in her car safely. Knowing she was watching, her little sister saluted her before pulling away.

Gods. She’d much rather tag along to help prepare for Chari’s art show. But someone had to watch the store. The downside of family business was that sometimes it was all business and no family.

Effy walked slowly from the end of the window to the other, from the welcome sign to a small corner shelf of erotica. She could follow Chari’s buggy this way—just until she’d hit a stop sign before veering right and disappearing completely from view. But just as Chari rolled to a stop, the point of Effy’s heel kicked into something.

She looked down. Her gaze landing on the new shipment of dildos Mama says her friend Stormie swears by. The box was half open, Chari must have forgotten to unpack it. Effy glanced back out the window, but her sister was already gone.

“Be safe, babyblue,” she said.

Well … back to work.

Effy opened the box and shielded her eyes from a sudden flash of brilliance. When her eyes adjusted, she looked back down at what had to be the shiniest, most golden dildos she’d ever seen. She pulled one out, stood up and smacked it into her other hand to test its weight.

Hmm. It was nice. Solid. Had good density. Effy became curious to learn its name.

“The Cock of Lathander,” she read. Above the title was a sticker, celebrating the turn of the century.

1800–the era of dreams.

Meh. Effy had enough of those. In most of them she was being whisked away to freedom by some handsome man who was obsessed with her.

Speaking of, maybe after she put all these dildos away she could play Eternal Nights on her faePhone. As of last night (very late into the night), she needed to make a choice. Prince Kieran had given her an ultimatum to choose him, or his sworn enemy, the dark knight—Phoenix. Prince Kieran was so very handsome and very sweet, but Phoenix …

A distant rumble from outside yanked her from her thoughts and Effy looked back out the window. A black bike sped down the road, except this was no ordinary bike. A shadow clung to its sleek shape, flickering in its ghostly headlights. Effy watched in awe, as those very same lights veered into the parking lot.

She recognized it; at the club, men often talked about getting one.

The Wraith—fastest bike there ever was. It made her poor Ruby look like the ugliest car there ever was.

Please don’t park next to me. Pleaseee.

The man–judging from his form–did not. Thank the gods.

He parked under the only lamplight, closer to BG Mobile. Tendrils of shadow dissipated when he turned the engine off. By now, Effy’s face was practically smooshed to the glass as he swung his leg off the bike in a motion so sensual, it made her jealous of the seat he’d been riding.

He grabbed underneath his full helmet and removed it, revealing white curls and pointed ears. With the helmet tucked under his arm, he began to walk. And Effy quickly realized it was in her direction.

“Fuck.”

She took a few steps back from the wall and realized she was still holding the Cock of Lathander in her hands.

“Fuck!” The dildo was chucked back into the box, and the box was picked up just as quickly. But Effy miscalculated the weight and dropped it and watched a sea of the Sun god’s dick hit the floor and flop around her feet—just as the bell to the front door chimed.

Mortified, she slowly looked up.

The man was looking down at the mess she made with a raised brow and half a smile before he lifted his face to her.

His eyes were red. Beautiful.

And for some reason, so heart-wrenchingly familiar.

“Have we met before?” she thought to ask.

But he beat her to it.

#I don't know you I love you #happy new year #until you au #astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion love #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #romance #eventual smut #a03 #effy #Astarion X effy

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lostsyren · 8 months ago

Note

Perhaps you could do one with Rafe and Sofia, since I know you have included it as a thing in your fic........maybe we can get one where Rafe drags her out to the ocean, getting her comfortable with it and just holding her, being really soft and sweet with her

ོ𓂃𖠳𓂃 rafesofia yacht day part two ‧₊˚ 🥂🐚 ༉‧₊˚.

{summary: rafe takes sofia out on his yacht again, hoping this time they have have a better experience…}

{a/n: sorry for taking so long with the request! i hope you like it! thank you for this lovely ask, send in moreeee!!}

{part one here}

𓆝༄⋆｡°✩“What do you wanna do tonight?” Rafe asked, sitting at the bar. Sofia whirled about making drinks for the other customers as he watched, sipping at the cocktail she’d made him earlier. It was late afternoon, the sun hanging lazily on the cloud lined horizon, the summer months coming to an end.

Ever since that day on the yacht, Sofia felt a spike of guilt whenever Rafe asked her what she wanted to do. His caution made her feel bad. She didn’t know how to tell him she enjoyed it when he’d take control, letting her relax a bit– a moment of reprise in her stress filled life.

Sofia wiped down the workstation, walking over to Rafe with a small smile. Her shift was over; she could finally untie her apron and drop her shoulders.

“How about we take your boat out again?”

Rafe’s eyebrows raised in a question, mouth twisting slightly, “Sofia,” he warned in a wary tone, “you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” She pressed. Sofia had grabbed her belongings and walked alongside Rafe towards the exit.

He threw her a chary glare, his hands slotted in his pockets, “you sure?”

She looked up at him with bright eyes, slipping her arm around his, “I’m positive.” 𓆝༄⋆｡°✩

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.

The yacht’s motor guzzled, churning the blue waters white as Rafe controlled the speed. He made Sofia sit up front with him this time, so he could keep an eye on her– his gaze flitted quickly from the waves in front to her beside, noticing her back was pin straight and her hands clutched the arm rest, knuckles turning the same colour as the frothed up sea foam. He was going considerably slower than he was used to, but he dropped another gear just in case.

Sofia brought her hand to his thighs, gently tapping it. “Let’s stop here.” He acted quickly, bringing the boat to a gradual halt.

As the waves rocked them softly, to-ing and fro-ing in the calm waters, Rafe scanned Sofia up and down to make sure she was alright. She wore cardigan over her bathing suit, playing with a loose thread coming off the sleeve, her eyes were open, fixated on the yacht’s console and her hair was out, windswept strands tickling her face– Rafe had the urge to brush them away.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Better than last time,” she joked with a quiet laugh. Rafe felt comfortable around her– when he was with Sofia he could just forget about everything he’d done, the version of himself that she knew becoming the person he truly was, even if it was just transient.

“Good– that’s good.” He nodded. Rafe jumped up, suddenly remembering the surprise he had planned. “Wait here, I got something for you– close your eyes.” He threw her a roguish smirk, grabbing the box he’d packed and stored before she boarded.

“A surprise? I swear to god if you ambush me with something–“

“No no don’t worry, just close your eyes.” Rafe repeated.

Sofia narrowed her gaze, giving in finally listening and bringing a had to cover her vision. “Fine. I trust you.”

Rafe paused for a moment, her words piercing though him like a ships hull through water. She trusted him. Rafe couldn’t help but feel like she shouldn’t. But his heart still swelled with an unfamiliar pride that she trusted him– when no one else did.

Rafe brought over the box bringing out its contents one by one. Two glasses, a bottle of champagne, and a box of luxury chocolates he’d picked up from the markets in Figure 8. All that romantic shit he’d seen people do in movies and stuff. He was still new to all this– the whole doing something nice thing. Sofia made him want to be good. Or at least imitate it. He wanted her to see him like this. He wanted her to like him.

“Ok open your eyes.” Even he began to bubble with anticipation, biting the inside of his cheek as he waited for he reaction.

Sofia complied to his instruction, moving her hand away from her eyes. “Oh my god! Rafe, you didn’t have to do all this!”

He knew he didn’t, after all she was just a hookup. They hadn’t defined anything yet, this relationship was nothing serious– whatever that meant. But it was the closest thing to serious Rafe had had in a long time. And besides, he felt like he had to make it up to her for the last time she was on his boat.

“It’s nothing, here– let me pour you a drink Miss Sofia,” he teased.

Sofia dramatically brought her hand to her chest, mirroring Rafe’s cheesy grin, “why thank you Mr Cameron.”

He noticed her body language loosen, her nerves seeming to fade like the chemtrails that soared over them. She was comfortable with him… he thought. His chest felt alight with relief, as if this was some sort of test– and he had just passed it.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.

After a couple glasses of champagne, nighttime had settled around Rafe and Sofia, too quick for them to notice. The waters lapped like black ink around the boat, the moonlight dappling the ocean with its iridescent glow.

Rafe and Sofia were quietly talking and laughing, their bodies huddled close together as they exchnaged jokes and stories. They were too caught up with one another to see the dark grey clouds gather above them.

Sofia felt water trickle down her face. “Is it raining?” The sky suddenly opened up, the clatter of rain against the ocean filling the seas.

Sofia began to laugh, using her arms to shield her head as Rafe rushed to gather the glasses and chocolates under the yacht’s canopy.

“Shit– I should’ve checked the weather before hand.” He yelled as the rain progressively began to fall harder. Sofia stood up, as Rafe ushered her down into the boats cabin, sliding the door shut, the murmur of waves and onslaught of the rain all fading into silence.

Sofia wiped the water off her eyes, looking at Rafe’s drenched white shirt and rain beaded face. It took only one glance at one another for both to erupt into laughter.

“Come on, let’s dry off.” Rafe said, heading into the bedroom. Sofia glanced at him, noticing the way his gaze watched her attentively, with softness. With care. Her stomach felt like it was somersaulting.

She nodded her head with a little smile, following him into the room.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.

Rafe couldn’t help but feel a twinge of bitterness. The night was going so perfect. She was laughing. Enjoying herself. Of course it had to go and start raining. At least she didn’t seem to mind too much, remembering how her face had lit up with laughter as he slotted a hand around her waist to lead her inside.

He rooted through the bedroom’s wardrobe. There wasn’t much of a selection of clothes: a couple of robes, some sweatshirts and T-shirts and a whole lot of towels. He grabbed two, throwing one to Sofia. The rain continued to pour outside, the rumble of it hitting the sea and yacht rooftop getting louder and louder the heavier it became. Rafe brushed the towel over his wet buzz cut, shuddering slightly. The air conditioning had been on all day, leaving the room chilly and cold. He turned to look at Sofia. She was also shivering, though she tried to hide it.

“Here, take this off.” Rafe walked up to her, hovering his hands over her drenched cardigan, waiting for her give permission. She didn’t move away, nodding her head slightly as if to say ‘go on’. So he pulled the sleeves over her shoulders, the material sticking to her skin. A fizzling tension sparked between them, her eye contact unwavering, his touch eliciting a heady verve. He let the cardigan hit the floor, draping the towel over her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she said, softly. Rafe just smiled, turning around to unbutton his shirt. After shucking off the soaked fabric, he suddenly felt Sofia tap his bare back, Rafe spinning around quickly to check if she was ok. His first thought was that something was wrong, but after he scanned her up and down, her lidded eyes, parted mouth and flushed cheeks made him think otherwise.

“Sofia?” He murmured in confusion.

“Hmn?” She whispered, letting the towel drop to the floor, leaving her in a bikini top and wet denim shorts that clung to her thighs.

“What are you doing?” He knew what she was doing. The real question was why? He wanted to prove that this wasn’t just sex, that she meant more to him than that. But the way she was looking at him right now made it hard to remember that.

“What does it look like?” Her voice was low and heavy, her fingers tracing his wrist, circling the sensitive skin.

“You don’t have to do this.” He still thought that she was trying to make it up to him. Everything in his life had been transactional, even his relationships– with his father, with his friends. He didn’t want her to feel like that– that she had to give him something. He just wanted to be with her.

“I want to…” she trailed off, moving her hands away from his quickly, “do you?” She said, sounding unsure of herself.

Fuck it– Rafe thought.

“I do.” He said hoarsely, before swooping down to capture her in a kiss.

Sofia reacted quickly, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling her closer to her. Rafe complied, arching his neck down, gripping the skin of her hips with greedy hands. His stomach flipped as he heard her little gasps of air against his lips, blood rushing in his veins.

Rafe spun them around so he could push her towards the bed, gently lifting her up to clamber on to the mattress, all the while her legs wrapped around his waist. Sofia broke the kiss, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling as Rafe’s hands pushed her back until her head hit the pillows. He paused for a moment, analysing the way she looked: open and ready for him, her wet hair wreathing her face, her amber eyes glowing in the semi-darkness, her skin still glistening from the rain.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, mostly to himself, quiet enough so she couldn’t hear. Sofia reached a hand out to him, flattering her palm against the small of his back and gently pushing him on top of her.

His hooked her lips with his once again, whilst he undid the button to her shorts, slowly sliding them off her legs. Rafe travelled down the planes of her body, peppering the hot skin with wet kisses, inhaling her scent of rainwater and vanilla.

“Rafe,” she gasped, inciting him to press harder.

“What?” He teased, glancing up at her.

But she didn’t look down at him with a playfulness that their previous hookups had been like– Sofia instead had a sincerity in her eyes that scared Rafe.

“Thank you for this. For all of it.” She said, her voice like velvet. Rafe wasn’t quite sure what she meant– all of it?

He wanted to pry and ask her to explain, but Sofia’s fingers trailed over his forearm. Rafe quickly became inudated with lust, losing his train of thought. She wrapped her hand around his wrist, tugging him forward to silently signal for him to resume his kisses.

So he did.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.

Sofia lay back in bed, whilst Rafe cleaned up in the bathroom. She nestled into the satiny white sheets, listening to the thrum of rainfall against the sea. The room was heavy with shadow, a slither of light pooling in from the singular window, making everything lined in silver. She felt so lucky.

She couldn’t quite understand Rafe Cameron. Sofia had been with him long enough to have heard the rumours about him– his hatred for pogues, his violent streak, his murderous family. But that version of himself didn’t align with what she knew: a sweet guy who always tried to make her feel good.

The bathroom door opened with a soft creak, Rafe entering quietly, climbing back in bed.

“Shall we head back?” Sofia said to him in the semi-darkness, facing him as he looked up at the ceiling.

“No…let’s just stay here for a while.” He whispered, turning to face her. He reached his hand out to her, brushing the strands of loose hair away from her eyes with cautious fingertips. Sofia smiled at his face contorted in concentration.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, quickly retracting his hand as if embarrassed.

“Nothing, just happy.” She said truthfully.

Rafe considered her answer, his eyes brewing with something she couldn’t quite place her finger on.

“Can you come closer?” He asked, voice hoarse, as if it pained him to say.

Sofia furrowed her eyebrows but complied, shuffling closer to him in the small bed. She felt his hands slide over her hips, tracing the curves of her body, before they slid over her back, nudging her forward. Sofia took the hint and pressed herself against him, letting him envelope her in his big arms. He was never usually like this after they had sex. Sure he was sweet and respectful, but never this….vulnerable.

“So, are you still scared of the ocean?” He asked, breath tickling the nape of her neck.

Sofia laughed softly, running her hands over the veins in his arms, tracing the cold metal of his rings, “yep, still terrified…but less so with you.”

She felt Rafe vibrate with a low chuckle, his hold on her tightening, “I’m glad…you still wanna head back?”

Sofia slid closer to him, savouring the heat off his bare chest, enjoying this rare side of Rafe that he was showing her today. “We can stay a little longer, can’t we?”

She glanced up at a Rafe, seeing a soft smile on his lips, “of course we can.”

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡°‧ 𓆝

🌊a/n: i mentioned previously that I don’t like to write smut, i guess this is a good threshold of the extent of spiciness i do write– nothing too explicit. i hope you like it!! send in more requests, thoughts, questions, moodboard ideas…!!!

#outer banks #rafe and sofia #rafe cameron #sofia outer banks #sofia obx #rafe x sofia #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe concepts #rafe cameron thoughts #drew starkey #fiona palomo #༊*·˚syren

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the-kr8tor · 1 year ago

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Hello! How are you??? I'm sorry in advance, I'm still figuring out how tumblr works.

There's a post by @undobutton that talks about an au where Hobie is a street musician. I think something Christmas themed would be really cute if you're interested in writing your own version. Totally up to you!

I couldn't find their original post, special thanks to @undobutton, street musician au is credited to them. Thank you for requesting, lovely! Have a happy holidays 🫶

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader (except for their jacket), cw food mentions, some awkward flirting, Lovestruck! Hobie, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

When Hobie volunteered for F.E.A.S.T he never thought he'd be freezing his balls off in the middle of a busy intersection. The Santa coat he's wearing doesn't help much with the biting cold, good thing they let him wear his leather jacket underneath the red fluffy coat.

To his dismay, the red bucket to his side has stayed half empty since his shift.

The only consolation to the cold is you. Like clockwork, you come sauntering out of the busy crowd during the rush hour, your smile a beacon of warmth from the chill. You don't know him nor he knows you, but you always come to him with a greeting, always bearing gifts of hot cocoa, soup or a pastry to warm his senses. It's not just the treats you give him but also the welcome conversation. It started off with a polite ‘hello’ and ‘thank you for doing this’ and then you exchanged names, before he knew it, you two were chatting away like old friends. Now you're not strangers anymore, there's a blooming friendship that could be more if you two manage to thaw out the cold awkwardness of conversing in a public space.

The snow nips at his fingertips as he strums the familiar Christmas tune for the umpteenth time on his well loved guitar since he volunteered last week. Hobie kept repeating to himself throughout the jingle ‘for the kids, I'm doin’ this for the kids’ he huffs, puffs of clouds escaping as a wave of pedestrians passes him by without donating.

As if you've sensed his emotions, you come walking out from the subway, your fluffy red coat almost matching Hobie's, and a stark contrast to the rushing crowd's greys and white. The people seem to part just for you, like the sea making way for you to cross. Or maybe that's what he's seeing as your straight face turns into a grin as you spot him in his usual place.

“Hi, Hobie” you're suddenly right in front of him, Hobie suddenly feels warmer. Peeking down at his bucket of donations, you wince. “Not a good day?”

He shakes himself awake. “Better now that you're here”

“Where in the world do you get your charm in this weather?” you feel warm, your hands are suddenly sweaty under your gloves.

“It just comes naturally.” He shrugs, his smirk turning you into mashed potato. “Nice jacket”

You laugh, a better sound than the loud honking of traffic he's been attacked with throughout his shift.

“Yeah, well it's almost Christmas so I gotta stay festive, you know” you lift your arms to the side a little bit awkwardly. After mentally facepalming yourself, you take your wallet out to take a crisp bill to put in the donation bucket.

“Thank you, F.E.A.S.T appreciates your donation” Hobie does his practice script, but for you there's more heart put into it.

“Also, I wanted to dress up like my new favourite person” you say a little quieter, bouncing on the balls of your feet nervously.

“Santa’s your favourite bloke?” Hobie looks like he's questioning your taste.

You blink before you let out the most glorious sound he's heard all day. “Yeah, Santa’s my favourite guy” you say sarcastically, “I mean just look at him and his magnificent white beard” laughing, Hobie’s eyes widened.

You're flirting with him, shit, he thought, wanting to punch himself for his stupid reply. Composing himself with a clear of his throat, hiding it behind a chuckle, Hobie puts his charisma to work.

“Well, Your new favourite bloke has a present for you”

“What is it?” Your face hurts from smiling too much, yet it doesn't waver.

“As our biggest benefactor, you get to spend a day with Santa himself at Feast” Maybe that wasn't his best work, but can you blame him when you're looking at him like a child during Christmas morning? He puts all the blame on the cold for making his brain all foggy.

“Only if you want to that is” Hobie tries to save himself the embarrassment.

His awkward way of asking you out made you all the more fancy him, you're a goner. “I would love to, Hobie” you're sweating under all your layers.

He feels like his chest was caving in and your answer was the only thing that could hold it up. Hobie beams, a little too excited to exchange numbers with you.

In truth, you know there isn't some prize for the biggest donation, you weren't even close to the largest benefactor. Maybe that'll be a nice ice breaker for you when you finally go on a date with Santa.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #atsv fanfiction #x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #spider punk #spider punk x gn! reader #hobie fluff #cw food mention #hobie x reader #fanfic

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politesofithaca · 3 months ago

Note

"Hello!-"

Charis waved, before then tripping on her feet-

< @childofkindness

Oh hello!

[He reaches out his arms to catch her.]

Are you alright?

#answered!

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bones4thecats · 4 months ago

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How are you doing I happy you are open could I request a DBZ perfect cell x female android reader, who is base on a butterfly insect and was created by dr brief to bring joy and protect the world, she is kind, timid and the total opposite of cell?

┗ Beauty and her Beast; Cell × F! S/O ┛

Characters: Cell A/N: Hello, I'm doing quite fine right now. Slightly sleep deprived, but that's normal at this point. Anyways. Hope you like this. By the way, the Reader is based on these two pieces of art by LinF on yodayo.com and this outfit posted by charis on Pinterest. ⇘ Summary: Once made to be the embodiment of all things good and bring the world peace, you held your title to great heights. But, after meeting the confident and 'slightly' arrogant Cell, your views on the world begin to shift slightly.

┍━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑

┕━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

🔬 The soft winds of the Earth bounced your antennae around, causing you to scrunch your nose up and rub your hair back down with your hands. You had spent so long perfecting your appearance for this moment. It had to be perfect. Just as perfect as the one you were waiting for.

🔬 Smoothing out your skirt with your completely black arms, you took a deep breath. This was the moment. The day you would tell Cell just how much he meant to you... despite his flaws, for lack of better words.

🔬 Cell looked around the treeline as he walked. You had told him a couple hours prior that you wished to speak with him about something important. He suspected it had something to do with the little massacre on surviving humans he did earlier.

🔬 While you didn't hate him for what he did, doing it in front of you and doing it slowly was something you hated. But, maybe it was something else? He hopes it's that. Your anger is not something he wants to face again.

🔬 His pink eyes scanned the surrounding plain before they stopped at a familiar figure standing there, the wind blowing their hair to one side as they shifted on their feet. Cell smirked, chuckling as your wings slightly shivered from the chill of the breeze.

🔬 Cell landed next to you and tapped your on the shoulder, making you jump and squeal. He merely laughed as you scolded him for scaring you.

"Oh, please. My dear, you enjoy when I do that."

"Oh, do I? I didn't know that jumping out of my metallic skin meant enjoyment!" You replied.

🔬 The hybrid android smiled and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. Your wings lowered contently as you leaned into his chest, your head laying right underneath where his chest piece was.

"So, what did you want to speak about?"

"Um... well..."

🔬 You began to stutter, your face heated up in a rosy pink as your mind began to wander. He just cocked an 'eyebrow' as you began to stammer, not being able to speak properly.

"Cat caught your tongue, Y/N?"

"S-shut it!" You blushed harder as he smirked and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling your front directly onto his own.

"Well... you have a blushing face, your eyes refuse to meet mine, and your curling into my touch despite the obvious attempts not too. By what I've seen and read about, you have one of two things: feelings for me, or an illness you somehow contracted despite being a machine."

"An illness?! How in the name of the Earth would I have an illness?!"

"So, it is number one, how pleasing."

🔬 Pleasing? What did he mean by pleasing?

🔬 All of a sudden, Cell's lips fell onto your own. Your face erupted in a color comparable to the roses around you both. You smiled into the kiss as his hands wrapped around your behind and lifted you into the air, making you wrap your legs around his waist.

🔬 Despite not needing air as much as a regular human, you pulled away with a heavy breath in and out. A small line of saliva connecting your mouths as the male just chuckled deeply and licked it up from between your both.

"I'm sure you understand my reply to the findings. But, do you need more proof of my obsession with you, love?"

#Dragon Ball #Dragon Ball Z #DBZ #DBZ Villains #Androids #Dragon Ball x Reader #Dragon Ball Z x Reader #DBZ x Reader #DBZ Villains x Reader #Androids x Reader #S/O! Reader #F! Reader #GN! Reader #Android! Reader #DBZ Cell #DBZ Cell x Reader

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talonabraxas · 8 months ago

Text

Pha Yant: of lord surya (the sun) “a ruby flashing in the sky” Credit: JintheNinja (金齊天大聖)

Surya Mantra

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

"Japakusumsankasham Kashypeyam Mahadhyutim

Tamorim Sarvapaapagnam Prantosmi Divakaram"

Meaning : I bow down to the Sun God who is the cause of the day break, who dispels all darkness, who destroys all sins , who is matchless in brilliance, who is the son of Kashyapa and who is as red as a Japa Kusuma flower.

Surya Gayatri Mantra OM Bhaskaraya Vidmahe Mahadyutikaraya Dhimahi Tanno Adityah Pracodayat'

According to Hindu Mythology, Sun is a Kshatriya and born to Sage Kashyap and Aditi who is the mother of Gods. Her sons were defeated by the demons. Aditi prayed to the sun to be born as her son to fight and defeat the demons so that the Gods could get back their due. Sun agreed to it and was born as Aditya. Hindus believe that Sun is ever moving in a chariot drawn by seven horses. Surya, the Sun, is short in stature and has a prominent, shining appearance, with two arms, a curly mane of hair and shining, golden-brown eyes that are the exact color of honey. His mind is incisive and His complexion coppery or golden and He wears clothes of dark saffron. In both His hands, Surya has two red lotuses. The wheel of Surya's chariot represents the year and its twelve spokes are the twelve months.

God Surya (सूर्य) can be called the only god in Hindu religion who can be seen and prayed to in daily life. The Surya is depicted as having a body as shiny and radiant as pure gold. He is believed to be a golden red man with three eyes and four arms, riding a chariot driven by seven white horses. The Chariot harnessed by seven horses represent the seven colours of the rainbow or the seven chakras.

Surya is the life giver, sustaining all life on earth by providing all radiance and energy. He by mounting the wheel of time is also the one who is responsible for the beautiful seasons and causing the cycle of day and night.

The Surya is referred to in Sanskrit as "Mitra" or "Friend" down to the invariable warmth. Surya is depicted with two hands holding a lotus in both; sometimes he has four hands holding a lotus, chakra, a conch and a mace.

Surya in ancient literature

In Vedas, numerous hymns are dedicated to Surya, the Sun personified, and Savitr, "the impeller", a solar deity either identified with or associated with Surya. Even the Gayatri mantra, which is regarded as one of the most sacred of the Hindu hymns is dedicated to the Sun. The Adityas are a group of solar deities, from the Brahmana period numbering twelve. The ritual of sandhyavandanam, performed by some Hindus, is an elaborate set of hand gestures and body movements, designed to greet and revere the Sun.

The mantra in Rig Veda praise to the Surya as :

आ कृष्णेन् रजसा वर्तमानो निवेशयन्न अमृतं मर्त्यं च । हिरण्ययेन सविता रथेना देवो याति भुवनानि पश्यन ॥ (1/35)

(Throughout the dusky firmament advancing, laying to rest the immortal and the mortal, Borne in his golden chariot he cometh, Savitar, God who looks on every creature]

Gaytri Mantra in Vedas for Lord Surya

ॐ भूर्भुवः॒ स्वः॒ तत्स॑वितुर्वरे॑ण्यम् भ॒र्गो॑ दे॒वस्य॑ धीमहि। धियो॒ यो नः॑ प्रचो॒दया॑त्॥

(Om bhoor-bhuvaH svaH, tat-savitur-vareNNyam, bhargo devasya dheemahi, dhiyo yo naH prachodayaat.)

In the Vedas Surya Dev is referred to as the god of light who is responsible for all life on earth.

The Children of lord Surya are : Shani Deva (शनि), Yama, Yamuna, Tapti

Names of Surya

Ravi, Suraj, Aditya, Adit, Bhaskar, Pusha, Divakar, Bhanu

Vedic Mythology with stories

The Mahabharata describes one of its warrior heroes Karna as being the son of the righteous queen Kunti and the Sun. The Ramayana describes Lord Ram (श्री राम) as being descended from the Surya Vansh or the clan of kings as bright as the Sun. The Sun God is said to married to the beautiful goddess Ranaadeh, also known as Sanjnya. She is depicted in dual form, being both sunlight and shadow, personified. The charioteer of Surya is Arun, who is also personified as the redness that accompanies the sunlight in dawn and dusk.

Sun God in different cultures

The Solar deities associated with different aspects of the cultural universe of the society, but for the most part its raw image remains identical. In the 3rd millennium BC, the winged sun was an ancient symbol of Horus. The Neolithic concept of a solar barge, the sun as traversing the sky in a boat, is found in the later myths of ancient Egypt, with Ra and Horus. Egyptian myths imply that the sun is within the lioness,

Proto-Indo-European religion has a solar chariot, the sun as traversing the sky in a chariot. During the Roman Empire, a festival of the birth of the Unconquered Sun was celebrated when the duration of daylight first begins to increase after the winter solstice, — the "rebirth" of the sun.

In Germanic mythology this is Sol, in Vedic Surya, and in Greek Helios (occasionally referred to as Titan) or Apollo. Mesopotamian Shamash plays an important role during the Bronze Age, and "my Sun" is eventually used as an address to royalty. South American cultures have emphatic Sun worship. Svarog is the Slavic god sun and spirit of fire. In Aztec mythology, Tonatiuh was the sun god. The Aztec people considered him the leader of Tollan, heaven.

Surya in vedic Astrology

God Surya is the King of all the planets and is responsible for controlling all their movements. The Sun in Vedic astrology is called RAVI, or SURYA. In western tropical astrology, the Sun rules the Sign of Leo. He is exalted in the sign of Aries, and he is in his fall in the sign of Libra. In vedic astrology the Sun is known as the ATMAKARAKA, means .an "indicator of the soul." The Sun is the indicator of the father, our ego, honors, status, fame, the heart, the eyes, general vitality, respect and power.

He is particularly beneficial for the fire sign Ascendants of Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius. His nature, or temperament is PITTA, or fiery, and the gemstone associated with the Sun is the red ruby. The Sun's metal is Gold and his direction is east. His day is Sunday, and he comes into full maturity and brilliance at age 22.

The Vedas adore him as a witness (Sakshi) of all actions. He is the lord of Leo in the Zodiac. He stays one month in each Rasi and takes 365 days or 12 months to complete a round of 12 Rasis. Worship of Surya on Sunday is supposed to bring in manifold benefits to the worshippers. .

Surya and modern Astronomy

Our solar system consists of an average star we call the Sun, the planets Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. It includes: the satellites of the planets; numerous comets, asteroids, and meteoroids; and the interplanetary medium. The planets, most of the satellites of the planets and the asteroids revolve around the Sun in the same direction, in nearly circular orbits.

Our solar system the part of whole solar system, together with the local stars visible on a clear night, orbits the center of our home galaxy, a spiral disk of 200 billion stars we call the Milky Way. Again Our galaxy, one of billions of galaxies known, is traveling through intergalactic space. The order of planets revolving around the Sun are: Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto.

On February 14, 1990, the cameras of Voyager 1 pointed back toward the Sun and took a series of pictures of the Sun and the planets, making the first ever "portrait" of our solar system as seen from the outside.

Prayers to please Lord Surya

Surya namaskāra

Lord Surya helps one gain his eyesight and SURYA NAMASKAR will strengthen one's bones, cure illness, however severe it may be, cleanses the devotee from his sins and bestows on him progeny, wealth, good-health and long life. He is the cause for rainfall benefiting the world.

The lord Surya is prayed in the simplest way by folding one's hands in a namaskar at the time of sunrise. A simple chant of Om Suryaye Namah pleases the lord Surya. A Hindu worship Lord Surya at the rising of the Sun, known as Surya namaskāra There are twelve physical postures (asanas), which correspond to the twelve signs of the zodiac. During the sun's apparent journey through the heavens it passes through each of zodiac, and is said to triumph over each sign as it enters its domain. Associated with each other of the twelve positions of Surya Namaskar is a specific mantra. The 12 mantras for surya namaskara:

ॐ मित्राय नमः (aum mitrāya namah) ॐ रवये नमः (aum ravayé namah ) ॐ सूर्याय नमः (aum sūryāya namah ) ॐ भानवे नमः (aum bhānavé namah ) ॐ खगय नमः (aum khagāya namah ) ॐ पुष्णे नमः (aum pushné namah) ॐ हिरण्यगर्भाय नमः (aum hiranyagarbhāya namah) ॐ मारिचाये नमः (aum mārichāyé namah) ॐ आदित्याय नमः (aum ādityāya namah) ॐ सावित्रे नमः (aum sāvitré namah) ॐ आर्काय नमः (aum ārkāya namah) ॐ भास्कराय नमः (aum bhāskarāya namah)

The Gayatri Mantra is also associated with Surya.

Another hymn associated with Surya is the Aditya Hridayam, recited by the great sage Agastya to Lord Ram (श्री राम) on the warfield before the fight with Ravana in Lanka. .

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eryvana · 21 days ago

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Teachings.

Coruscant, Years Ago.

The golden hues of Coruscant’s sunset bathed the small meditation chamber in a warm, gentle glow. The vast city-planet stretched endlessly beyond the windows, the steady hum of speeders and distant starships creating a constant yet oddly soothing backdrop. Inside, the light cast long shadows against the walls, wrapping the figures of a young child and her mother in a quiet embrace.

Four-year-old Araneia sat cross-legged on the smooth floor, her tiny hands hovering hesitantly above her mother’s wrists. Her brows were furrowed in deep concentration, lips pressed together as she focused all her attention on feeling something—anything—beneath her fingertips. The Force was there, she could sense it, but it was elusive, like the shifting sands of a distant world slipping through her grasp.

Across from her sat Charis, her mother, her guide. Her face was calm and patient as she watched her daughter’s struggle with tender amusement. Charis’ arms were outstretched, wrists upturned, giving Araneia the space to reach for her presence through the Force rather than touch.

Araneia bit her lip, her fingers twitching as frustration bubbled within her small frame. “It’s not working,” she finally huffed, her nose scrunching in dissatisfaction.

Charis smiled, her voice smooth and filled with quiet confidence. “It is working, little one. You are just not seeing it yet.”

The child’s expression flickered with uncertainty as she tilted her head upwards at her mother. “But I don’t feel anything,” she insisted, her voice carrying the stubbornness of youth. “How will I know when I do?”

Charis tilted her head slightly, as if considering the question, though she had known the answer all along. “The Force is not something you grasp, Araneia. It is something you allow. You cannot force yourself upon it, you must open yourself to it. Close your eyes. Breathe.”

Araneia hesitated before obediently shutting her eyes, taking a deep breath that made her small chest rise and fall.

“Good,” Charis praised gently. “Now, do not reach for my hands. Do not chase the Force. Instead, let it come to you. Let it tell you where I am.”

Silence fell between them, save for the distant hum of the city outside. Araneia focused on nothing and everything all at once. She let go of the frustration, of the desire to get it right, and simply… listened.

And then—there.

Like a ripple in still water, she felt it. A warm, steady presence just beyond the edge of her awareness. It was not something she could see or touch, but she knew it was there. She could feel the gentle current of her mother’s presence in the Force.

Her small fingers trembled, but she did not open her eyes, nor did she pull away.

Instead, she whispered, “I feel you.”

Charis exhaled softly, a look of immense pride washing over her features. “Good. That is the beginning.”

Araneia slowly opened her eyes, excitement dancing within them. She had done it. She had truly felt her mother’s presence through the Force.

Then, a sudden thought struck her, and she glanced down at her mother’s inked skin, at the elegant and meaningful patterns etched into her face and hands. Mirialan markings—symbols of trials overcome and lessons learned.

Her gaze turned hopeful, eager. “Does this mean I get my first mark?”

Charis let out a soft, melodious laugh, shaking her head. “Not yet, little one.”

Araneia pouted, crossing her arms. “But I did it.”

Charis reached forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from her daughter’s face with a touch as light as the wind. “You did, and I am very proud of you. But our markings are not given for a single step, Araneia. They are earned through a journey.”

Araneia’s lips pressed together in thought before she looked up at her mother once more. “How did you get yours?”

Charis smiled, tilting her head as she regarded her own markings. Her fingers traced over the familiar lines, memories flickering behind her gold-flecked eyes. “Each one tells a story. Some are for trials of the spirit, others for battles fought—not just with enemies, but within myself. Some are for the people I have healed, the lives I have touched.” She looked back at Araneia, her expression soft yet firm. “Your marks will come, in time. But they will not be given to you. You must earn them, just as you must earn your place in the Force.”

Araneia’s pout slowly faded, replaced with a sense of understanding beyond her years. She nodded, her tiny hands falling back to her lap. “I’ll earn them,” she said with quiet determination.

Charis chuckled, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “I have no doubt you will.”

Without captions:

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epicthemusical · 9 months ago

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Haunted Thunder pt 1

WARNING THUNDER SAGA SPOILERS CANNON BLOOD AND DEATH

Time didn't work as it used to and Polites was left to float around aimlessly in the bleak underworld.He faintly remembers seeing Odysseus but already it was fading from his mind, how long has he been here? Minutes? Months? Years? He has no idea.

He is jolted out of his endless wandering and finds himself on a boat with…Odysseus?! Polites shakes himself out of his shock before rushing to hug his friend only to find himself unable to touch him only passing through him. He tries again to grab Odysseus’s arm and again he passes through his friend.

“Odysseus!” Nobody hears him though and as Polites sinks to the deck he hears singing coming from the ocean. Odysseus starts responding to a voice..wait it can't be possible. Penelope has no way of being out at sea like this so what? The answer hits him hard ...no please don't be sirens!

All Polites can focus on is stopping Odysseus from answering the siren's call. Any attempt is ignored until Odysseus raises his bow and…shoots at the siren? Polites breathes a sigh of relief as Odysseus reveals he had known all along about the sirens. The sirens had been caught and Polites couldn't help but smile.

His friend always has a plan and this time was no exception. The sirens call for mercy and Polites waits for Odysseus to convince the sirens to leave and not bother them only to freeze at the order shouted to the wind.

“Cut off their tails and throw them back in the water. Let them all drown.” Polites just stands there in shock before flinching as the crew obeys the order. Blood and screams fill the air. He slumps to the deck and sees Odysseus, cold and uncaring as he watches the sirens be thrown back into the sea before sailing on leaving behind a sea of blood and bodies.Polites feels sick to his stomach.

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Everything fades away revealing another scene. They seem to be sailing through a dark cave and a haunting tune fills the air leaving the entire crew on edge.Odysseus orders for 6 torches to be lit and passed out to crewmembers.

Polites tenses as six monstrous heads centering around a terrifying body emerge from the inky depths of the cave. He rushes towards someone holding a torch unaware of the monster behind him wishing desperately to save them. It was a meaningless effort as he passed through them only able to watch as blood splatters the deck and soon Polites screams mix in with the screams of the crew being picked off and eaten.

One of the feathers from Julien’s ankle wings, a broken claw necklace from Nox, a scrap of Charis’s scarf.

Everything is soaked in blood as Polites sobs and screams at all the death. He knows the names of everyone that was eaten.

Julien who always put up an unbothered and mischievous front to hide his fear of hurting people he cared about.

Nox who often used his silent footsteps and cat eyes to scare the crew.

Charis who loves to sew as a way to be close to his dead mom.

Lykos who only wanted to explore the world outside of the forest they grew up in.

Almi the quarter water nymph who gifts any scales he sheds to people he trusts and loved swimming with dolphins.

Therme who welcomes hugs and cuddles using his above average temperature to keep everyone warm with a smile.

Huedo with his calming aura letting crew members sleep in his room to keep nightmares away. They are all dead now, life ended brutally and abruptly. Polites throws up as he sobs and grieves.

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Polites is pulled out of his grief by Eurylochus’s voice.

“Please tell me you didn't know that would happen. Look me in the eyes Captain and tell me you didn't just sacrifice 6 men!” Polites stared at Eurylochus in shock. How could he ever think that about Odysseus he would NEVER. But the silence drags on

“SAY SOMETHING!” Eurylochus was breathing hard and Odysseus sharply turns to face him

“I CANT.” Polites stares at Odysseus in disbelief. Now that he thinks about it Odysseus had not reacted at all to the men being eaten almost like….like he had expected it…

Polites covers his mouth as his eyes tear up, feeling sick again. Odysseus didn't actually sacrifice 6 of the crew right? He watches Eurylochus face harden

“then you leave me no choice.” Eurylochus draws out the giant sword from his back and faces Odysseus.

“Please brother don't make me fight you!” Odysseus is panicking but as Eurylochus charges he pulls out his own sword to block with gritted teeth. Polites feels himself start shaking as he watches the fight.

What could have happened after he had died?! How could this happen?! Eurylochus is knocked down and Odysseus raises his sword for the final strike

“I won't let you get in my way!” Before he can deal the final blow he starts coughing up blood and he turns and sees that another crew member had stabbed him in the back with tearful eyes. Odysseus’s eyes fill with pain both emotional and physical

“My brothers…why..” He falls forward landing on the deck with a thud. Polites cries out and stumbles over to his fallen friend. Once again his hands phase through Odysseus and he sobs, unable to do anything to help.

Polites watches them patch up Odysseus before tying him to the mast. Polites stares blankly into the distance wondering how everything could have gone so wrong.

Part 2 here

#epic the musical #polites #epic fic #odysseus #odysseus epic the musical #polites epic the musical #angst #heavy angst #eurylochus epic the musical #epic the thunder saga #death and blood #cw death #cw blood #ghost!polites

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