#highest standard of living
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Some pictures I found yesterday of Jeff in his theater days. Truly lots of breakthroughs happening in the field of Jeffrey Combs studies recently! Many of these had to be heavily cropped and I have the sources saved, so feel free to reach out for more info :)
#jeffrey combs#rene auberjonois#thats him with the mustache!#jeff combs#theater#by the skin of our teeth#highest standard of living#the diviners#a midsummer night's dream#but yeah let me know if you want to know where i found these or want the full images or more info#reanimator#destroyersopera
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In my main mission I took a side quest and pulled all the pics I could with Jeffrey from the LA times from 1979 to 1986 from NewpaperArchive.com during his theater days
articles under the cut!
#jeffrey combs#theatre#baby jeff#la times#it only now occured to me I should have been looking not just in the la times oh well#i've kept the articles of some of these too#articles#newspaper#playboy of the western world#pvt wars#highest standard of living
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why was love for love's sake one of the best kbls ever ....
#literally so happy for woongki that he got to be in something so beautiful and well done#like omg it was Well Done#like I do think kbls have a high standard but because there r more and more of them coming out the standard is both going up and down#and I didn't think this one would be up there but it IS#it's living up there with semantic error and the eighth sense now .... like that is achievement#it was SO CUTE#and so engaging fr like I loved all the characters the plot was FUNCTIONAL 🫶🫶 and was so interesting like I wasn't just there for the smooch#which I can't say about a couple other bls dmjeeisu#but eek yeah that was wonderful#the acting was fantastic from all of them and they worked so well together ..... beautiful#I should've known woongki would only be in the highest standard of projects fr#love for love's sake
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my grandparents watch a lot of TV in the living room and as such every now and again i see a bit of a show or commercial they're watching, and as such i just saw a political ad scaremongering about illegal immigrants that a state representative wants to keep out and it's like... bro, we live in fucking ohio. i live a 10 minute walk from lake erie. the only way we could be further from mexico while remaining in the US is if we went to alaska or fucking hawaii. the only time i ever see any hispanic people whatsoever is when my family takes me to a mexican restaurant. i genuinely cannot remember the last time i've seen a hispanic person in my area aside from those restaurants. it's like if you tried to get elected in florida by campaigning against snow
#and of course it goes without saying that racism against any group is bad and ultimately stupid as hell#but i think that the specific choice of racism is stupid even by racism standards#like. we live in the state with the highest black population outside of the deep south. wouldn't it make more sense to tailor your racism#with that? not that i want them to get any ideas or anything but still#i feel like most racists around here are a lot more likely to find antiblack racism more appealing#which again. i don't condone. i'm just talking fom a purely tactical perspective it's kinda fucking stupid#side note but it surprised the hell out of me to hear that my specific area has more black people than like. NYC or LA#i always assumed they were a lot more diverse than that. but i guess not#maybe LA would be less shitty if there were more black people there i dunno man#im rambling. oh well!
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It's really ironic that Eight was made as a direct contrast to the feeling of helplessness and powerlessness that Ciphers (particularly Nine with having their free will stolen unable to even ask for help) experience but his character has grown so much in that protector role that he misses that helplessness-- especially that of being an infant. Misses being weak and small an half-blind and relying on his parents for warmth and safety. He can't cry for his mother, or be surrounded on all sides by someone or something that would fight for him, tooth and nail. When you grow your fangs, you can never return to being so young-- you are the protector now and it is your duty to fight.
#swtor#ooc#echani females call the males their 'protectors' despite the females outnumbering males 1 to 8#and despite lore stating it is a matriarchal society so females would have little need to be protected if not the other way around#so I hc that Protector as a societal role is much like the role of the eldest sibling#an unnecessary pressure to take the most responsibility for your family put them first and fulfill your filial piety amongst other duties#to win honor and show you have the capacity to protect and care to the highest standard for everyone#but it can be difficult bearing the brunt of the burden and it is a mindset that follows many echani into their lives elsewhere#the need to provide yet endure it.#no voice to cry suffering.mp3#at some point you achieve a certain level of strength where none can compare and as a result none can protect you#in particular. I saw how much his Nine self wished anybody could be there to help/save him#and that was where Eight stemmed it is his role
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row's dearest desire is to be in a deeply codependent relationship. this is why the emperor has such an easy fucking time
#not a joke or an exaggeration!!!!#row's highest held quality in any relationship dynamic ever is reciprocity. they will not continue to give if there is no equal return#but they are fundamentally incapable of being normal about any relationship ever. no middle gears.#(this is a big part of why they struggle to be close to anyone in a way that lasts - because if they get less than they give#it's a slight and a sign to stop bothering. but no-one can healthily match what they've got going on. they hold an impossible standard)#(the other big part is their simultaneously far too high and far too low self esteem)#the emperor thought it could capitalise on their need for external approval with a powerful and cryptic figure#who trusted them with a lot but still left them a little in the dark.#WRONG.#turns out that the 'two little freaks who hold each others' lives in their hands' gambit would have been a better one from the beginning#row didn't know what they had to offer the dream visitor and they didn't trust it enough to believe what it said they owed it#but they know - more or less - what the emperor wants from them#(destroy the absolute. become illithid. profit?)#and they know exactly what it's doing to help reach those goals#neither can fuck over the other without dooming themselves#the ideal relationship pattern for faerun's most mentally ill gnome#anyway#row tag#I'm so normal about them. worst duo of all time. I think I have created something beautiful (it sucks so bad)
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A History of the Cuba Revolution // Aviva Chomsky
#cuban revolution#cuba#capitalism#socialism#colonialization#also IS US standard of living the highest in the world? I’ll have to check
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Because I don't care how or what I eat (moldy grapes/bread, paper, uncooked pasta, ants, undercooked foods, stale cereal, freezer burnt foods, pineapples, burnt foods, suspicious meat, raw potatoes, pinecone (only a bite dw), dandelions, expired foods, foods covered with sand/dirt, grass, marrow) I like to traumatize my friends and family with what I'm willing to eat. Now I get an excuse to traumatize tumblr :D
Frozen milk. Thats the weirdest thing I've had and I'm not willing to so that again. It doesn't really freeze like water so it's really similar to a slushie, but the slushie is frozen. If that makes sense.
#theres some more stuff i left out that ive eaten/still eat#but i dont think i want to really get into that unless someone asks lol#this is what happens when youre starved as a kid#your standards for food lowers a lot#for financial and criminal reasons the adults couldnt/wouldnt give me food#i do draw the line at insects though#doesnt mean that if i accidentally eat that ill care though#especially given what the fda allows#talking about the fda#guess i should add lead to list because of the lunchables and applesauce thing#but the government has fed me worse foods than lead so i cant really complain about it#did you know that class d food exists and is legal to be sold?#class c food is what inmates are given btw#people who have commited crimes got better food than i did because the goverment didnt want to waste money on those with government jobs#i dont work there anymore but lets just say that suicide is one of the highest causes of death for a reason#its heartbreaking to look at those group photos and know that some of those kids are dead#im just really tired of being told another kid i knew killed themselves#god its so heartwrenching#eight deaths in three years#have you ever given the keys to a room of someone your age to their friends#because those friends are there to clean out that dead kids room and send his stuff back home?#sorry about that but i just needed to get it off my chest. my family and friends dont understand everything that i talk about#nor do i want to tell them everything that ive experienced and lived through. i cant do that to them.#i just. i cant do that to my family and friends. not how ive seen others react to those whove died.#but oh my god it is worth it to live.#if youre suicidal please wait a week before making any big decisions and have a heart to heart with anyone and call a hotline#if you think you have no one. i promise that you do. go watch the sunrise or people watch or go to a park and read a book#please#youre worth it
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World's Highest Standard of Living by Margaret Bourke-White
#art#photography#World's Highest Standard of Living#Margaret Bourke-White#The Art Institute of Chicago
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Trapeze artist, strongwoman, and all around badass Laverie Vallee, stage name Charmion, flexes for the camera in this (colorized) picture from around 1905. Born in 1875 in Sacramento, Charmion was a pioneer. She shocked conservative Victorian/Edwardian men with her daring "Trapeze Disrobing Act" (which was the subject of one of Thomas Edison's first films) and her insanely jacked body. But the ladies loved her, and her performances, which were viewed as practically pornographic by the extreme standards of the time period, were mostly attended by women. Throughout her career, she inspired women to exercise and to free themselves of the restrictions society placed on them. Charmion criticized the prudish attitudes of the time and told women they could be just as strong as men (this was a radical claim for that era, but her own body was the proof). A brilliant woman, she was fluent in six languages and regularly lectured and wrote newspaper articles about fitness. She was the highest-earning performer on the vaudeville circuit for much of her career, sometimes earning as much as $500 per week (equivalent to almost $20,000 today). Charmion was known to curl 70-pound dumbbells as part of her workout regimen and she could walk 12 miles without feeling fatigued. Charmion's biceps reportedly were almost exactly the same size as those of Eugen Sandow, who was widely considered the world's strongest man, and in a friendly sparring match she fought on an equal footing with the then-famous boxer Terry McGovern. She retired in 1912 and lived a quiet life outside the limelight until her death in 1949.
EDIT: I made a second post with some more info about Charmion if anyone's interested:
#history#feminist#fuck the patriarchy#victorian#edwardian era#women's history#women in history#gender roles#badass
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Columba
summary: It isn’t until you’re in his home that you learn it’s General Marcus Acacius who’s summoned you for your services—you’re not sure why he did, when the other courtesans standing beside you, hoping to be chosen by him, have bodies that look nothing like yours.
pairing: Marcus Acacius/Plus Size f!reader (Courtesan)
rating: E (18+!! This is smut. No y/n, explicit smut, plus size reader, courtesan reader, age gap (reader is of legal age in today’s standards), takes place pre-Gladiator 2, dommy Marcus Acacius (loves giving orders), he’s a tiny bit possessive, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, rough sex, backshots, woman on top, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, breast worship, hair pulling (m receiving), slight breeding kink, (1) pussy slap, dirty talk, spanking, spit mention, some biting, with hair like that he wants it pulled, some sweetness at the end)
word count: 4.8k+
a/n: I took one look at Marcus’ hair and immediately thought, that guy likes his hair pulled. I also decided that since he spends weeks to months with a bunch of men at a time, when he comes home, he really appreciates a curvy woman. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything for him until I saw the movie, but the trailer got me. This is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Masterlist
It was the marble bust atop a pedestal that revealed whose home you were in. The opulence of the domus’ atrium, with its four tall marble columns surrounding the impluvium's shallow, sunken pool in the middle of the room and the compluvium’s opening in the ceiling above it, allowing the moon’s light to filter in, told you whoever lived here had notoriety—then you saw the face carved out of stone, recognizing the curls and strong nose you'd only ever seen as he was paraded past you down the street in honor of his latest victory, and you knew.
General Marcus Acacius is a man feared by many for his ferocity and skills in battle. It's been said Mars, the God of War, blessed his birth, while others believe his bloodline is descended from the God himself. What you know to be true is he's a gifted General that the Emperors and Gods have smiled upon, and in his presence, an intimidating figure you didn't dare look at unless you were addressed.
There are four women standing to your right, all of you younger than him, naked, and courtesans of the highest standard—well-educated and well-versed in politics along with the pleasures of the body—and highly sought out by society's elite.
Marcus is at the opposite end, silently making his way down the line with what you can only assume is a scrutinizing eye, and you fear there's been a mistake that you're here—the other courtesans are all built similarly with small breasts, flattened stomachs and thinner waists than yours, whereas you’re curvier, and have more meat on your bones, with your bigger chest, soft noticeable belly, and grabbable hips. Clearly, he requested a particular type of woman, and it doesn't appear you're it. Staring down at the tiled floor seems better than seeing the disappointment on his face when he gets to you.
His sandaled feet come into view as he stands before you, and you can feel his eyes roaming over your bare body—golden snake bracelets coil around each of your upper arms, and at the unexpected gentle touch of his fingertips to one, you flinch.
"Do I frighten you?" His voice is a low, deep rasp that shivers down your spine.
"No, Sir," you answer.
His thumb strokes over the snake's head and along its body. "Why do you flinch?"
Raising your head, you see he’s wearing a white tunic with a gold pattern lining around his neck, down his arms, and along the hem, a belt securing it at his waist; golden cuffs covered his wrists. You’re met with dark eyes, a furrow crinkling between his eyebrows—his brown hair with a kiss of gray, curls like waves on his head, his facial hair dotted with a few silvery strands. It takes you a second to answer his question because the glimpses of him you caught during victory parades and the marble bust didn't prepare you for his beauty.
Mars and Venus have bestowed their blessings upon him.
“My apologies, Sir,” you finally reply. “It was simply surprise at being graced by your touch.” His expression is difficult to read, so you continue speaking, “I’ve heard of your prowess in battle that inspires songs and how your enemies tremble before you, but I do not believe I have reason to fear you—unless that is something you wish. Do you wish for me to be frightened of you?”
Some men liked it if you acted afraid of them to feel powerful. Some men, usually the big, tough ones, liked to bury their faces in your bosom while you held them. The slight show of relief on Marcus’ face when you said you had no reason to fear him made you suspect he’d be in the latter category.
“No.” His eyes are locked onto yours. “I do not need another to fear me. I wish for you to want my touch.”
“I wish for more than your touch,” you reply. “I wish to feel your lips on mine and your weight on top of me, I wish to feel your cock inside me and to hear the sounds you make when you peak, and I do wish for your touch; I wish to feel your hands claim my body as yours.”
His gaze turns to one of desire, and it makes you smile.
"You," he says. "Stay. The rest of you,” he announces, keeping his eyes on yours, “leave us.”
The invitation the messenger brought to your home the day prior did not state who requested your services; it simply said the person was a public figure, and the woman picked would be paid handsomely.
The servants, who stood as still as statues against a wall, scurried to assist each of the other women with redressing.
"Come," he orders, offering you a hand you accept. He leads you to a room you realize is his personal quarters when you spot his armor in a corner, Medusa's golden head on the cuirass shining in the candlelight—she wards off evil and offers protection. There's a bed against the wall opposite the door, and he lets go of your hand, slipping off his sandals by the doorway before walking over to a thin table laden with a jug, cups, and a bowl of berries and grapes.
"Care for some wine?" he asks without looking at you while pouring himself a cup.
His body is tense, and you’re assuming you’re here to help him relax—he arrived home only days ago from war, and you got a chance to see him rolling down the street on a chariot as he waved to the cheering masses. It would make sense that he could use somebody with your expertise to get him to unwind.
“No, thank you, Sir,” you answer, and he faces you again, taking a drink. “It’s a great honor that you chose me, and I do not wish to forget a single moment.”
His cup lowers, and you're surprised to find he’s wearing a little smile. He twists to set his wine down next to the jug, and removes the cuffs from his wrists, setting them onto the table then his eyes are on yours.
"Marcus," he says, and it only takes a few strides to have him in front of you again.
"I'm sorry?" you ask.
His attention moves to your body, and he’s not looking upon you like an object or something he’s just purchased as most men do; his gaze is appreciative, the same kind of look you could imagine was on his face when he stared at art that pleased him. Your figure isn’t the ideal for most Roman women—your hips are too wide, your breasts are too large, your ass is too big, your thighs are too thick, and your stomach is too noticeable—yet, there are many men who sought you out and paid well for your time, and it seems the General is one of them.
"My name." He walks around you, his fingers sliding along your upper back from shoulder to shoulder. “Call me Marcus. I want you to be familiar with how my name tastes on your tongue.”
The touch and his words cause your nipples to harden and goosebumps to rise on your skin.
"Marcus,” you say.
He’s in front of you again, his darkened eyes on yours. His big hands grip your waist, pulling you into him, and he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, feeling him inhale deeply. “Gods, you’re the best thing I’ve smelled in months.” The words are said against your flesh. “Like a meadow of flowers in Spring, and I fail to remember the last time I felt such softness.” He squeezes the fleshy handles at your hips and goes lower to grab handfuls of your ass, then runs his hands up your back. “Upon hearing your description,” he says, “I knew you’d be perfect, but what I imagined has no comparison to seeing your beauty with my own eyes.” His admission catches you off guard as it sounds as though he always intended to pick you from the line of women. It’s curious that he even invited the others if his mind had been set beforehand. He straightens, meeting your gaze. “Take off my clothes.”
There's no need to reply; you just do as he ordered, getting his belt undone, the leather falling to the floor, then pulling his tunic over his head, it meeting the same fate as his belt.
He’s completely nude, standing at his full height before you.
You expected the scars etched all over his body, the evidence that he'd lay down his life for Rome without hesitation. There's a long, jagged one across his right pec, silvered with age, that has you forgetting yourself and softly pressing your fingertips to it.
He snatches your smaller hand, pulling it away from his marred skin.
"My apologies," you quickly say, bowing your head in submission. "I shouldn't have touched you without permission."
"You may touch me." Once again, he surprises you by putting the flat of your palm against the scar, his other hand grabbing your chin to lift your face.
From his reaction to your fingers on him, you think he hasn’t been with a woman in quite some time, and you hope you can make up for all the nights he spent alone.
It seems he's done with the pleasantries when his lips crush into yours. It's all of the encouragement you need, kissing him back while rubbing your palms up his broad chest, feeling his warmth. You snake a hand down his stomach through the trail of hair low on his belly to take his half-hard cock into your hand—he groans and twitches in your hold.
He truly has the Gods' favor—a talented General, handsome and well-endowed.
With his hands on your waist, he walks you backward to the bed, laying you on the mattress. He's on top of you, deepening the kiss with his tongue pressing into your mouth, his hand palming your tit, making you wet with arousal and your body heat.
It's fascinating how he's defying all of your expectations. The men who seek you out after spending months fighting are often rough and brutish, using you however they want to release their tension. There's never kissing or offers of drink; it's orders to suck their cocks, or to get on the bed in their desired position—and here's Marcus kissing down your body, along the skin of your neck to your chest. Most of his weight is on his knees between your legs while bending forward over you, and the only word you can think of to describe it is he's worshipping your breasts. He has them in his hands, moving from one to the other, licking, sucking, and nibbling on your nipples and soft skin, the sensations making your pussy weep with need.
“Gods, Marcus,” you moan. He has you squirming with how good it feels, your fingers pushing into his curls. He takes a pebbled bud between his teeth and gently tugs. “Oh,” you gasp, your hands tightening in the tousled waves on his head.
He releases your nipple. “Harder,” he rasps, then flicks his tongue against your stiff peak, and you do as requested, pulling his hair harder. A loud groan rumbles from his chest as he continues laving at your tits, skimming his hand down your stomach, your skin tingling under his fingertips, until he’s sliding two fingers through your wet slit. You tighten your hold on his head, your toes curling when he starts rubbing your clit, and the realization hits that he intends for you to have just as much enjoyment as him.
"Marcus," you whine.
He’s one of those men who has you praying that he’ll wish for your company again, and you wouldn’t even make him pay if you got another chance to warm his bed.
The push of his thick digit into your pussy makes your breath hitch at the slight stretch, his thumb pressing to your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving side to side—you know he’s going to make you come, and you silently thank the Gods.
His finger is pushing in and out of you, his thumb continuing its movements, and he lifts his face to look you in the eyes, his own are so black there’s hardly a sliver of brown remaining. "Come for me," he commands, slipping a second digit inside you—you’re so wet you can hear the slick slide of his fingers pumping into you. The muscles in your belly are tightening, and the fire in your core is building. "Come for me, sweet girl." His head dips to lightly bite your nipple before soothing it with his tongue. "Once you come, I'll do as you wish and sheath my cock into this perfect cunt."
The hot heat of his mouth envelops your pebbled bud, and he sucks—it's your undoing; your eyes close as you fall over the edge, coming with a moan of his name. His digits and mouth continue to extend your ecstasy while your chest heaves with labored breaths and your heart pounds.
He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, his hand sliding from your pussy, up your stomach, leaving a trail of your release on your skin. His voice deepens, “You’ve done well for me, and I keep my word—turn over.”
He helps you to roll onto your front, and you get up onto your hands and knees—a familiar position. He takes a moment to admire you in front of him, his palms feeling the thickness of your thighs and hips. His fingers dig into your plump asscheeks as he spreads them and dips his head, hearing and feeling him spit between them, the hot saliva dripping from your asshole down to your opening. He shuffles up behind you, sliding his cock through the wetness of your come and his spit to lubricate himself, then notches it at your entrance—you both moan as he slowly starts feeding himself into you.
Gods, he’s big.
There’s a slight burn with how he’s stretching you, your inner walls having to accommodate his ample girth, and once he’s pressed all the way to the root inside you, a breath leaves you that you hadn't realized you'd been holding in.
He has a tight grip on your waist and pulls out almost all the way, immediately pushing back into you hard enough there's a clap when his hips hit your ass. This was expected, Marcus setting up a rhythm that punches the air from your lungs each time he thrusts forward—he’s working out what he doesn’t wish to feel, and with how slippery it is between your legs, he's moving easily, and the brutal pace feels amazing.
Many times, you’ve had to fake your enjoyment to make those employing you think they’re talented lovers—the majority are selfish in bed and care little about your comfort but want their egos stroked. Marcus, on the other hand, earned your favor when he took the time to ready you with his fingers and allowed you to climax.
He's pounding into you, the collide of his body against yours making your asscheeks shake, and with how his cock is pressing into something truly divine, he’s also earned your screams of his name and whatever incoherent words are babbling from your mouth—he has you dizzy with pleasure, heat coiling in your belly, and there’s no doubting the Goddess of Beauty and Sex has given him her blessing.
Sounds are spilling unbidden from your lips, Marcus loudly grunting with each stroke, the wet slap of skin hitting skin echoing in the room, and you look over your shoulder—the candlelight around the room shows the glisten of sweat on his golden skin. His head is thrown back, his eyes closed, and his jaw slack. Hair is sticking to his forehead, and a beautiful rosy flush has begun on his chest, rising up his neck to paint his cheeks. You can't think of another you've laid with who looked so breathtaking while taking their pleasure, and you could only imagine how glorious he’d look on the battlefield. You don't know what comes over you, reaching your hand back to touch his hip, and suddenly, he’s looking at you, his eyes glazed with lust.
It’s as though he’s been in a trance, losing himself in your body, and now he’s come back to be in the moment with you. He falls forward, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of you, blanketing your back and slowing his pace. His chin is on your shoulder, and he bites the shell of your ear; all of his weight goes onto one arm to free up the other that roughly grabs your breast and plucks at your nipple.
“You take me so well,” he says into your ear, his cock continuing to slide in and out of you. “Your sweet little cunt will milk me dry, and then I’ll have you again and again after that to keep you full of my seed.”
His words steal a moan from your lips.
“Does that please you, my sweet girl?” he asks. “You wish for more of me? Has another ever fucked you so good?” He gets his hand between your legs to circle the pearl of your pleasure, and your jaw drops, eyes closing—he’s going to make you come again. “Answer me,” he growls, lightly slapping your clit, and you clench around him.
It’s challenging to think, but you say, “No,” and push your ass back against him as he thrusts forward, fucking yourself on him to get closer and closer to your end. “I’ve never had such fortune.”
“You do now—by morning, I’ll have you ruined for any other man, and your cunt won’t soon forget the shape of my cock.”
He means every word that slips from his tongue, and it sets the fire in your belly ablaze. You’re holding yourself up on shaky limbs, the muscles in your stomach knotting up—you’re close.
“Marcus,” you moan.
His warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks into it: “I love how my name sounds from your lips. I know you’re close. Give in so I can feel you ascend to the heavens.”
His words, the fullness of his thick shaft moving in and out of you, and his fingers swirling around your sensitive bundle at the apex of your thighs has you shattering—stars burst behind your eyelids as white-hot pleasure erupts in your center, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough he slows to a stop, and groans in your ear.
You exhale panted breaths, your heart beating rapidly, and the blissful euphoria ripples through your body, slowly ebbing away.
Somehow, you find your voice, "Allow me to ride you."
He kisses your shoulder, his beard scratching against your bare skin. "You want to mount me?" he asks.
"Yes."
"Then you shall."
He pulls out of you, an achy groan leaving him as he lies beside you on his back, and you get up onto your knees. He draws your attention with how he’s splayed out on the mattress, his long legs slightly spread and arms crossed over his head. His cock is still hard, it shiny with your juices, and resting against his lower belly, cushioned by the tantalizing path of hair that led directly to it—and he’s looking up at you, his eyes dark with want that keep lowering to your bosom, and back up to your eye line, the pink of his tongue wetting his bottom lip, that you suddenly wish to bite.
There’s the common knowledge about Marcus all of Rome is aware of—the family he comes from and the military achievements that have led to him being the victorious General the Gods have blessed the city with, and now you’re versed in his more private attributes—he likes his women to be sturdy with sizeable breasts, he enjoys the pleasurable pain of his hair pulled, he’s a generous lover, he prefers to be in control unless you can tempt him enough to hand over the reins. It’s quite tempting for him to lie back and watch your tits bounce as you ride him.
Shuffling in place to face him, taking his hard length in hand—he didn’t ask, and you didn’t offer, yet you want to take care of him like he took care of you, so you scoot back enough that you can bend down at the waist, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock.
The sound of Marcus’ loud moan and the way his back arches as if it were the string of a bow shoots straight to your cunt—you can taste the mix of your essence and his arousal that’s steadily dribbling from the sensitive head that you lick and suckle; your hand easily stroking up and down the sheath of skin on his shaft. The muscles in his thighs and stomach have tensed like it’s taking everything in him to hold back and not fill your mouth with his come.
“Enough,” he grits the order through his teeth, and his palm lands on the side of your ass with a hard slap that echoes against the walls, the sharp sting getting a moan out of you—your head lifts off of him to see he’s scowling. “I’m not spilling down your throat,” he continues and smacks your ass again. “Ride me, or I’ll have you under me.”
“Apologies, Marcus,” you reply demurely and sit up on your knees once more. Quickly, you move, throwing a leg over his waist to have your thick thighs hugging his hips. You rise, grabbing his cock, you press to your entrance, and you watch his face as you slowly start to impale yourself on him, relishing in how his mouth falls open and the tight grip he has on the meat of your thighs, his fingers digging into them hard enough it bordered on painful.
The fullness is incredible when you sit flush against him, and you love how he fills you. Your palms find purchase on his broad chest, and you rise until only the tip of him remains inside of you, and you drop back down—the rhythm you set has you moving in his lap, up and down in quick succession, Marcus groaning, his eyes locked on the jiggle of your breasts.
Sweat forms on your skin, feeling it on your forehead and a single drop sliding down your spine, your eyes closed as you focus, your moans stuttering each time you sink onto him.
His hands are resting on your backside, rising and falling with you, his voice rough with pleasure, “That’s it, ride me, bounce on my cock.”
This isn’t about you, and though it feels good riding him, your goal is helping him achieve his own high, and you’re determined to do so—your hands leave him to press your tits together, and you gasp in surprise when he sits up and shoves his face into them. Your pace doesn’t waver, and you look at him to see he’s keeping himself up with an arm braced on the bed behind him, the other hand grabbing a handful of your ass, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.
Your fingers slide into the unruly curls at the back of his head, and you yank them hard to make him look at you, Marcus hissing while his cock twitches inside you. In this position, you’re taller, and he gazes up to meet your eyes.
“I want you to come,” you pant, continuing to fuck yourself on him. “I want to feel you flood my cunt with your seed.” The noise he makes sounds like a whine. “Then I want you to do it again, and again after that—I want you to fill me to the point I’m brimming with you, and you’re in me for days.”
He squeezes his eyes shut as he groans out a long, drawn-out Fuck
With his beautiful neck on display, you duck your head and lick up the taut skin of his throat, wishing you could suck a mark into it to remind him of you for a while after you part ways. His free hand roughly grabs your chin to pull you close enough for him to slot his lips against yours, and you have to slow to a grind as he messily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth.
He breaks away to fall back onto the mattress, his fingers getting a tight grip on your ass, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts you enough to start thrusting up into your soaked pussy rapidly—he’s grunting while baring his teeth to chase his high, and all you can do is press your palms to his chest for balance while keeping yourself raised enough for him to pound into you.
The slick push and pull of him, moving in and out of you, has you chanting his name, and it sounds wet between your legs, hearing the clap of skin on skin of him plowing into you. Perspiration makes his tan flesh glint under the candle's light, his hair is a mess atop his head, and his expression is wild; it’s no surprise when his strokes get uneven and his eyes close. Marcus tugs your ass down to bury himself as far as possible in you as he gives in, coming with a guttural groan—you feel his cock jerk and the wet pulse as he paints your insides with spurts and spurts of his spend, wringing himself out until his body goes completely lax.
He pulls you forward to lie on top of him, wrapping his arms around your middle, and turns you both onto your sides. There’s a hiss that slips from his lips when he removes his softening length from your cunt, and you smile at Marcus sliding down the bed far enough for his face to nuzzle in your bosom while hugging you tight. Your fingers stroke through his sweat-damp curls, his hums of appreciation sounding like the purr of a cat.
Minutes pass in silence as your breaths even out and your hearts slow. After some time, he says something you can’t make out.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you,” you reply.
His head lifts, and he kisses under your chin. “Stay,” he says again.
“I have no intention of leaving. I’m here until you send me away.”
“And if I don’t wish to send you away?”
His lips trail along your jaw.
Your eyebrows pull together. “As I said, I’m here until you request my leave.”
“And if I never request your leave?”
He’s kissing your neck now, the question making your eyes round. “You intend for me to be your mistress?”
It’s not uncommon for a courtesan to become one’s mistress. Some of you are from families of wealth and do this line of work for the powerful connections, while others are freedwomen who’ve worked their way up to earn their notoriety—either case, courtesans are respected and thought to make great mistresses.
“That is all I can offer since I have no plans to marry,” he answers. “You can stay here with or without me when I’m ordered away, and whatever is left of my salary and spoils of war after the household debts are paid, you may keep.”
He makes you frown.
“Why me?”
Marcus gets his arm out from under you and scoots up the mattress to look you in the eyes.
“You’re everything I desire in a woman with your beauty and intellect, and you can sate my needs in bed—you’re perfect, and I want you all to myself. I do not wish to share you with anyone else.”
It’s in this moment you realize you’re the one in control here—you don’t need him, you’re self-sufficient, and there are many who’d eagerly take his place, but your looks are rare in your profession, and he needs his deal to be enticing enough for you to take it.
“What if I decline your offer?”
“Then I pray you’ll allow me to keep your company until I receive my next orders.”
He seems to be a good, honorable man who wants to please you, and he had you tempted to accept on the merit of his skills in bed alone—there’s just something that won’t leave your mind.
“Before I make my decision, answer this question: if you believe me to be so perfect, why were the others here?”
He presses his large palm to your cheek. “It was in your power to deny me your company, and though the other women weren’t of my tastes, they were better than nothing.”
You see no flaws in his answer.
“I accept your offer on one condition.”
“And that is?”
You no longer find him intimidating, and you’re now comfortable brushing errant hairs off his forehead and sliding your fingers through the curls above his ears.
Your eyes lock onto his. “You return home to me,” you tell him. “You fight with the might of Mars, and you always return home to me.”
That earns you a small smile, and he takes your hand into his, kissing the center of your palm.
“I will, my Dove.”
Masterlist
Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!
#pedro pascal#marcus acacius#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius/reader#marcus acacius x y/n#wheresarizona writes
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i was thinking about this but as much as i love romantic malleus, i think platonic bestie hornton is equal if not better. you know those fics where grim is the one cock blocking all the other characters? imagine if it was your 6'6 bestie, future ruler of briar valley, the one the only malleus draconia. this man has the highest standards for you. he can't be swayed by a simple can of tuna. what is one meal to a near immortal fae? no, this man is subtly eyeing every single classmate that shows any sort of interest in you, silently judging for their intentions. he doesn't even need to threaten them, just him standing beside you is enough for them to get the picture. do not mess with his child of man. your suitors thought ace and deuce were bad, malleus is a whole other beast all together. if this person loved you like they claimed, whats a few card soldiers and a dragon? be like the heroic knight in legends long passed. fight for your maiden, prince, steal them away from their guardians. try it.
that's not to say he's unwilling to compromise. he loves his child of man very much even if they do make, in his eyes, unwise choices. you've made it very clear to him that even he makes choices that backfire. putting an entire island to sleep is not his proudest moment after all, but that doesn't change the fact he still worries. to him, you are so young, so fragile. isn't it said that your kind can die from a broken heart? the very thought of you leaving him due to his inaction has left him breathless on more then one occasion. where would he be without you?
so he watches and waits by your side, your ever present companion. your platonic soulmate. the man who walks you down the aisle and hands you off to your true love, just like in the fairy tales. he trusts you and loves you with every beat of his heart, his child of man, and he will be your best friend as long as you live and beyond. love never dies after all.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland reader#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#malleus draconia#malleus x reader
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Random worldbuilding idea:
In a world with the classic Standard Fantasy Races, the concept of "mildly toxic just means spicy" is known to all of them, but what defines 'spicy' depends on what these specific people have the highest natural resistance to. Humans, who metabolise plant poisons remarkably well, naturally enjoy their chili, mint and other mildly irritating toxic plants in their food for spice. Dwarves have a whole gallery of various types of stones and minerals found underground, which are so precious to them that anyone finding a vein of a coveted crystal is set for life - the expression "as rich as a spice miner" is so common among dwarves that it's also spread to unrelated languages of people who live, or frequently trade or work with dwarves.
Elves, who are far too refined for such simple luxuries as toxic plants or rocks, prefer to spice their foods and wines with things that cause mild-but-harmless psychic damage. Elves from cultures that prefer spicier foods make fun of elves from milder cuisine cultures for not being able to handle spicy foods, while elves from mild cuisine cultures agree with non-elves that you can't even eat Spicy Elf Food without afterwards seeing demons for three weeks straight.
In contrast the orcs, who do not care for such fancily sophisticated luxuries as human plant spice or dwarvish rock spices, and are actually immune to elvish spices completely, prefer the simplicity of abrasive textures - common orcs add coarse sand into their foods, while warlords and orc rulers of high status might splurge in the luxury of having their dinners spiced with shards of glass.
Humans will sample the food of anyone but the orcs. Elves are actually surprised that humans also indulge in psychedelic mushrooms, and dwarves are amazed that humans can handle salt.
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WHERE’D ALL THE TIME GO?
CHAPTER ONE
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ new summer , new camp , new people. you were beyond ready to take on the next few months , but you had to get through your first day before that comes.
word count 7.7k
warnings profanity , mentions of underage drinking , sexual innuendos , mentions of a cult.
CAMP JESSAMINE was going to be your permanent summer camp , you decided. just the drive to get to the campground was a perfect time. your best friend , taylor , was with you— with some persuasion , and the weather was perfect. the windows to your car were rolled down , stereo to the highest volume as it pumped out the tune of your favorite songs.
you and taylor were the type of people that listened to very specific songs that would only ever make the best coming of age movie soundtrack. it was something very special to the two of you ; romanticizing your lives through music.
as you turned onto the driveway before the parking lot in front of the administration building , two weeks by grizzly bear was playing. taylor reached over , twisting the volume knob to lower it as she took in your surroundings.
“this looks much better than skyline ridge did,” she pointed out , leaning out the open window just a bit.
you laughed at the welcomed diss on your old camp. “i don’t think that’s a tough standard to beat , but i do agree. this is a lot nicer,” you replied , rolling to a stop in the gravel lot. there were several cars already parked— some of the staff showing up to help orientation along.
the radio cut silent as you killed the engine before you reached over and grabbed your tote bag. “we need id’s and..?” taylor trailed off , looking through her own bag.
“just our id,” you reassured her, “lets go check in.”
you both clambered out of your car , not having stood on two feet for several hours. your heart was pounding as you made your way to the front door. it was decorated with a banner above shouting, ‘welcome to camp j!’
with one hand clutching taylor’s , you push the door open and step inside. there’s a line of tables with staff members behind them , helping some new staff members sign in and get instructed on where they’d be bunking for the summer. you were silently praying that taylor and you would be close to each other if not paired up.
“hello! welcome on in , guys!” it was a blonde girl , probably your age , waving you two over. her hair was the perfect amount of curled and flowy for it to look naturally effortless , and her smile was practically blinding you as you walked her way. she looked like the human embodiment of sunshine. “hi , what are your names?”
“y/n,” you answered before clarifying, “y/l/n.”
the blonde didn’t even need to look down at the clipboard in her hands before letting out an excited squeal. “ah! you’re my newbie!”
taylor laughed for a moment before covering her lips with a hand. “and me? taylor mcmahon?”
“ooh , you’re with cleo,” sarah— if she was wearing the proper name badge, answered with a smile, “she’s one of my best friends. our cabins are actually pretty close to each other , too. she’s probably in the dining hall right now getting our dinner set up for tonight , but i’m sure you’ll meet her soon. actually , i’m almost done for my shift of signing people in , so if you wanted i could bring you guys around. introduce you to cleo and kiara. she’s another one of my friends who works here.”
while sarah talked and got papers ready , you could feel a good summer coming in your veins. you and taylor were paired up with two best friends and wouldn’t be staying that far a part , and the girl you were paired with seemed plenty nice.
“i think we’d love that,” you smiled back , picking up a pen and filling out the small sheet handed to you. meanwhile , taylor’s eyes were elsewhere.
“who is that?” without looking up , you know she found a boy to ogle from across the room, “and can he be my newbie?”
sarah chuckled for only a moment before she cut herself off. “oh,” she spoke , eyes landing on katherine’s latest find. “that’s—“ you didn’t really listen to who it was , focusing on your form to get it out of the way as fast as possible.
any allergies? no. any food allergies? no. any health conditions that require medication? no. favorite color? green. favorite drink? probably coffee? you finished filling the blanks before slipping the branded pen into your pocket.
“here you go,” you cleared your throat , handing sarah the slip of paper before picking up your bag from the floor, “anything you need to give me?”
sarah grinned , noticing you wouldn’t be a newbie newbie , just someone who hadn’t been to camp jessamine before. “just your name badge , some t-shirts , the cabin key , itinerary , and list of campers!” it was all handed to you in a packet , badge and lanyard laying on the top of it, “let me grab taylor’s and we’ll head over to the cabins.”
taylor took her own packet and lanyard , slipping the blue loop over her neck with a smile. “you know what , y/n/n? i think you were right : this will be a good summer.” her eyes were still trained on the guy at another set of tables.
looking at him now , you could actually scan over him. camp jessamine t-shirt a half size too small , making his arms budge out of the sleeves just a bit ; buzzed hair ; beyond tall ; perfectly tan skin. “you can have ‘im , babe,” taylor started, “i’ll take his friend.”
your eyes shifted ever slightly to the right , taking in the dark skinned boy that just entered the building , immediately going to his friend and dapping him up. “i don’t date guys from camp , tay. that’s like rule number one.”
“you guys ready?” sarah’s voice cut through your conversation.
“let’s go!” taylor beamed , hooking her arm in yours.
leading you back outside through a different door , sarah began her tour. “so we were just in admin , and that is the gymnasium,” she pointed across the way at another bigger building. it had an outside court as well , giving away its title. “over here is the dining hall , so we’ll stop in for cleo.”
she was smiling the whole time , as if this was some paradise , and you couldn’t help but hope that’ll be you next year. “how long have you been a counselor here?” you wondered , looking all around you all while following sarah through the grass.
“forever,” she simply answered, “i think my first actual memory is from this camp. i went every summer growing up ; a lot of us did. the next move was to obviously start working here,” she continued to explain , slowing her pace just a little for you two to keep up. her eyes noticed how you and taylor were trying to take everything in. “and here we are!”
ever the welcoming committee , sarah opened the door and let you walk through. “sare , who you got with you today?” a boy spoke up , heading your way. she quickly kissed him on the lips before ‘presenting’ you and taylor to the few others in the dining hall.
“y/n , taylor , this is john b , cleo , kiara , and pope,” she introduced everyone , pointing at each of her friends, “guys , this is y/n and taylor. y/n is my bunk buddy , and cleo you get taylor!”
“alright , come here , girl! let me check you out,” cleo hyped taylor up before pulling her in for a hug, “i’m not the newbie anymore , y’all.” the last bit was directed to her friends.
you all laughed at her words , knowing almost all of you had felt that feeling before. “were y’all headed to the cabins?” pope had asked , breaking up the chuckles.
“yeah,” you nodded, “sarah wanted to stop and grab cleo before we settle in.” as you answered , your eyes took in the group , sizing them up in a way to get your read on them.
“yo! new chicks just came in and they are hot! saw ‘em with sarah getting—“ two swing doors opened , a guy walking backward through them with boxes in his arms. when he turned and saw the three extra people in the room , he quickly shut up. “hi there! uh— there’s actually like , i don’t know , four other sarah’s who work here,” he lied , stumbling over his words as everyone laughed.
“right , okay. well , that’s jj,” sarah groaned , clearly unimpressed despite her giggles, “j , this is y/n , my roommate. and this is taylor , cleo’s roommate.”
the blonde swiftly flipped his hat to be facing backwards after putting the boxes down on a table. “nice to meet you , ladies,” he smirked , reaching his hands out crisscrossed for you to both shake. being polite , you both meet his hands , shaking them with smiles.
“nice to meet you , jj,” taylor smiled , catching the fact that he was perfectly your type ; catching that fact that you were blissfully aware that he was perfectly your type.
“hi,” you managed to speak , cheeks flushing bright and ears getting hot, “well , we gotta go— gotta go get , um , unpacked,” you stuttered , pointing to the door and stepping away, “sarah?”
your new friend was grinning ear to ear watching you drown , but she quickly came to your rescue. “see you guys later,” she chuckled , coming and grabbing your shoulders before pulling you away. she led you out the front door and to one of the several golf carts. “so that was something.” sarah couldn’t help herself but laugh a little when you were alone.
“i’m going to kill myself if i talk like that all summer,” you joined in on making fun of yourself, “is everyone that volunteers here that hot?” you questioned , thinking back to the guy you saw signing people in.
“yeah , that’s a perk for sure. something in the water on the cut made those pogues fine,” sarah agreed , turning the golf cart on whenever you threw your bags down in the back.
“okay , first of all : what’s the cut? and secondly , what’s a pogue?” you asked , turning in the seat as sarah took off in the direction of your cabin. neither one of those words seemed too endearing.
sarah looked back at you and took a deep breath. “well , we’re all from this island : kildare. on said island , there’s the nice neighborhood which we call figure eight. then there’s the not so nice neighborhood which we call the cut,” she explained as you listened intently, “all of them are from the cut , sparing kie. she’s a born kook.”
“so if you’re from the cut , you’re a pogue , and if you’re from figure eight , you’re a kook?” you recalled , still not entirely understanding the classist labels.
“it’s dumb , but yeah,” sarah nodded simply.
you took the answer for what it was and focused ahead of you. you could see the cabins now. they were set in five half circles , three cabins in a group. in front of them was a fairly large fire pit with handfuls of chairs littered around the area.
“which one are we in?” you questioned as sarah slowed to a stop.
“we’re in cabin number six! cleo and taylor are going to be in four , and kie is in five,” sarah answered , grabbing one of your bags to help you inside.
“these are nice,” you gaped , stepping into the cabin. there were six bunk beds , three on either side of the building. a bathroom in the back , and another door next to it.
“our room is back here,” sarah announced , moving through the cabin towards the last door, “ta-da!”
you set your bags down at the end of the bed that was still available and looked around. sarah had set up her side of the room already , fairy lights across the ceiling , posters on the wall , and her bed all done up.
“okay , these are really , really nice , dude,” you echoed yourself , amazed at how much more money is clearly put into this camp than your last.
sarah waved you off, “eh , it’s whatever,” she laughed, “just kidding. it’s actually insane how fancy this camp is. even i can admit it.”
“my last camp was an actual dumpster fire compared to this,” you admitted , starting to unravel your bedding to make the room seem homier, “packed cabins , shitty food , bunch of old people for camp counselors. jessamine is an upgrade.” sarah sat down on her bed and listened to you with a smile. she liked you already , that wasn’t hard. “and you all seem actually nice too. that’s another perk on top of how hot you guys are,” you continued with a laugh.
jj. you hated you were still thinking about him. that’s not how you ever want your summers to be. summer flings were not on your list of things to do in your twenties. you wanted to completely focus on yourself and getting to where you wanted to be in life. no blonde surfer boy was going to change that.
“so… you’re still picturing jj in that pretty , little head of yours,” sarah read your mind , holding back a cheesy grin when you turned to her.
“i don’t date boys from summer camp,” you simply said , going back to making your bed. the two of you stayed in silence until you had finished setting up your bed and unpacking. you fell into the mattress with a sigh.
sarah’s position on her bed matched yours , completely sprawled out and exhausted. “i feel like this is the first time i’ve gotten to just chill in like a week,” she huffed , staring up at the ceiling.
“yeah , me too,” you agreed, “me and taylor were on a road trip just before we came here , so i’ve been cramped in my jeep for way too long.”
“wait— how old are you?” sarah questioned , sitting up on her elbows to look over at you.
“nineteen. almost twenty,” you answered , copying her actions, “you?”
“twenty…” she replied with a smile, “which means i’m no longer the baby of the group , so thank you for that.”
“it’s okay. i’m used to it,” you mused, “youngest daughter of six. taylor is older than me , and most of the friends i’ve ever made have been too. nothing new to me.”
it was true ; you were quite used to being the ‘baby’ of whatever group you were around. you grew up that way. as much as you hated it , you did get away with a lot more. such as doing what you’re currently doing. your dad was pissed when he got the email you sent him one morning. it was the day you officially packed all of your things and left home. he had decided you were to be a doctor— what kind? he didn’t care , but a doctor nonetheless. you , however , wanted to travel and experience everything you possibly could while snapping pictures and showing the rest of the world. not exactly an easy thing to come to a compromise on.
that was two years ago.
“well , i hated it. the guys would make fun of me all of the time,” sarah laughed now , it not being as sore of a spot for her, “but that makes taylor… twenty?”
“—one,” you finished for her, “she’s like my best friend and big sister all in one.”
“don’t you already have five of those?” sarah recalled , furrowing her perfectly groomed eyebrows.
you looked away for a moment , fairy lights catching your eyes again. “technically , but i don’t really think blood is what makes family,” you shrugged , pushing yourself to sit up entirely, “show me around some more?” it was an obvious attempt at changing the subject , but it worked.
“wanna see the ponies?”
AFTER ABOUT two hours of sarah showing you around the camp grounds , you found yourself back in your cabin. it was nearly three , so you still had some to yourself before the counselors’ meeting started up before dinner.
you hadn’t seen taylor since you split up at the dining hall , so you were by yourself since sarah had to help with some administrative duties. with your free time , you made the decision to start setting out the things you brought for the girls you’d be mentoring for the summer.
daisy.
amber.
noah.
celeste.
miranda.
kylie.
the first thing on the list was making the covers for their journals. you had pressed three-d stickers on the front , spelling out all of their names. you set the books down on the dressers , pairing each with a disposable camera and pack of pens.
in the bathroom , you had set up a box of essentials. twelve teenage girls in one cabin? it was needed. you hung up a cuter shower curtain , laid down a better floor mat. you were happy with the way everything looked so far , so you moved back into the living area. you set out the mini projector you brought , coloring books and markers , card and board games , bracelet making kits. you were just making the cabin more lived in with plenty of things to do.
you had your headphones in , listening to your own music while you got everything set up. lost in your own world.
“excuse me!”
you jumped , hand clutching your chest as someone pulled one of your headphones from your ear. “holy shit! wow! sorry,” you breathed out , turning to face the person who disrupted your jam session.
“no , i’m sorry,” he replied with a chuckle, “i’m looking for sarah. last i heard she was here , but i guess not.”
“oh , yeah. she went to admin,” you answered , pulling the other headphone out and draping the wire across your shoulders, “i can tell her you stopped by…”
“rafe,” he finished for you , reaching a hand out, “i’m sarah’s brother. cabin seven.”
you nodded with a smile , reaching your hand out for him to shake. he took your hand in his , engulfing it entirely. “y/n. sarah’s roommate. cabin six,” you replied, “just do you know.”
“won’t forget it,” rafe assured you , taking a look around the room, “i like what you’ve done to the place,” he added as he inspected the hanging plant you had hung up.
“i think it’s good for campers to live in a cozy place while they’re away from home,” you explained it , hands coming behind your back as you rocked back and forth on your feet, “i don’t know— it might be dumb.”
“nah,” he immediately dismissed you. he shook his head and looked at you again with a soft smile, “s’cute. see ya around , freshie.”
your eyes trailed after him as he left the cabin , most likely in search of his sister. “see ya , vet!” you called after him , smile still gracing your lips, “jesus , something is in the water around that island.” somehow , rafe looked even better up close than he did when you first got a glimpse of him earlier.
“so you met rafe?”
another voice pulled you out of your thoughts this time. taylor. “thank god,” you sighed , moving to the bedroom and flopping on your now made bed. taylor laughed to herself , following in suit and cuddling up next to you. your arm draped over her stomach , holding your friend close.
“what’s going on , bug?” she asked , dragging a loose lock of hair out of your face, “talk to mama.”
“i think i miss my sisters?” you hummed , staring off at the wall lazily, “which is ridiculous. most days , i would rather go back to cult skyline , but i don’t know. sarah and i somehow brought that up for a moment , and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
“okay…” taylor nodded, “do you want my advise or or me to just listen?” god , she knew you so well.
you just sighed deeply , letting all of the air in your lungs leave your body. “i just wanna sit here for a second. take a minute before the kids get her in two days,” you shrugged.
the two of you laid in bed for a while— you weren’t sure how much time had passed until your phone started going off to let you know it was nearing five. you groaned , reaching over a sleeping taylor and grabbing your phone to shut your alarm off.
“tay , time for the meeting,” you spoke , nudging her awake. she groaned , stretching out her body as she came to. “let’s go meet everyone else.”
“yeah , yeah. i’m coming,” she promised , pushing herself up as you did the same.
despite taking the golf cart to the cabin , the walk back over to admin wasn’t all that bad. cleo had met up with you , formally introducing herself to you. it wasn’t long before you were sat around another fire pit the camp had with the rest of the camp leaders.
“all right , everyone! how we doin’?” the woman still standing clapped her hands together , and you recognized her as marsha , the person you were communicating with before you got to jessamine. everyone applauded , hooting and hollering in excitement. “okay , okay. so to start summer off , i just wanna go over a few rules. i know— i know , boring rules. boo. however , once i get them out of the way , all of the fun begins so…”
“she’s just like meagan,” taylor leaned over and whispered to you , referring back to one of the administrators from camp skyline.
you chuckled under your breath before facing back to marsha as she continued. “… no letting kids have sex , no letting kids do drugs or drink alcohol , no letting kids sneak out around camp by themselves in the middle of the night , and finally : absolutely no fraternization between counselors!” she made it a point to shout the last rule louder than the others, “cameron , maybank , i’m looking right at ya both , okay?”
the boys smirked to themselves , a few other guys patting their backs. you were sat somewhere in between them , getting a chance to look at both. jj was laughing with john b , smacking each other back in forth in argument as to who was the bigger camp slut. they agreed on the blonde.
and rafe , he was with his friends you hadn’t met yet. they were dapping him up , congratulating him on his many conquests over the years.
“now that we’ve all agreed on not fornicating on property , let the games begin!” marsha smiled, “you all know how this works. for you newcomers , you’ll pick up just fine. get with your cabin mate and check your emails. scavenger hunt begins… now!”
everyone shot out of their chairs , finding their partners if they weren’t already sat with them to start the game. when you got to sarah , who was only a few chairs away , she already had her phone pulled out with the email pulled up.
“okay , so this is what we do every year on the first night of camp,” she started , handing you her phone to look at the list, “winner gets to have their cabin get their meals before everyone else does for the first two weeks. it actually gets pretty intense.”
you laughed , handing the phone back to its rightful owner and smiling. “let’s win then.”
“alright! i like you a lot , miss y/n/n,” sarah replied , bumping your shoulder with hers. she started walking , so you kept up with her. taking advantage of the golf carts , sarah plucked the keys out of the cup holder and started one up. “we gotta start at the end. marsha thinks we don’t know , but she puts the list in order of location. the further down the list , the further it is from home base.”
“sounds like we’re going to come out on top then,” you commented, “drive faster.”
“back to the ponies we go,” sarah nodded , pushing her foot down on the gas pedal.
you sped off , passing several counselors that were on foot , including rafe. he was with the boy from check in that taylor was checking out and another blonde.
“sare , you know that shit’s practically cheating,” rafe yelled at his sister , causing her to slow down to a complete stop.
“really?” sarah feigned innocence. her big , brown eyes practically sparkled as she looked at rafe.
you leaned forward to look past sarah and at the guys standing next to your cart. “i don’t think marsha ever said that it’s not allowed,” you chimed in , pretending to think back in time, “so we’re gonna go win real quick , and we’ll see ya when we’re passing you in line for dinner.”
it was almost despicable how sweet your smile was compared to your competitive words. rafe eyed you up and down , not bothering to hide his gaze. “sounds like sarah’s already rubbing off on you , sweetheart. better get away from her before it gets worse,” he joked, “have you met kelce and topper yet , honey?” his hand pointed back to his friends , who were impatiently waiting for rafe to shut the hell up.
“no , she hasn’t,” sarah answered for you, “and also screw you. have fun losing again this year!”
with that , sarah hit the gas and drove you away from her brother. her hand flew up , waving bye as she laughed along with you. “god , please don’t take anything that boy says to heart,” she advised , looking over at you with a serious expression all over her face.
“what do you mean?”
“well…” she started, “y’know how marsh called him and jj out for being camp’s biggest whores? she’s not kidding. i love jj , and i love rafe , but those boys can’t keep it in their pants to save their lives. and they’ll say pretty much whatever to get into someone else’s. that includes sweet talkin’ you like rafe was trying to do with his ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ and shit,” she continued explaining, “just be cautious.”
you nodded slowly , taking her words as gospel. every summer camp ever has one or two counselors that fuck like rabbits , but it was your luck that you found them both attractive here. good thing you had your one rule. no dating boys from camp.
it was simple and definitive.
it was clear you and sarah were going to finish before the rest of the counselors by the time you got to the last scavenge point on your list. it was at the fire pit by the cabins in plain view. sarah took a quick picture of you standing next to the fire and holding up the medallion that was placed on the bricks. finally , you were able to hop on the golf cart and head to home base.
“so there’s this party the counselors do every first night of camp , and i think you should come,” sarah spoke up as you steered your way passed the others.
“there’s not a party on the itinerary,” you replied , already having the next few days memorized.
she laughed at you gently , patting your thigh. “babe , it’s not exactly something marsha knows about,” she explained, “it’s , like , a right of passage for the leaders to get drunk off their asses before the kids come. i mean , we usually have kick backs on the weekends , but this welcoming party is much different.”
“different how?” you asked , furrowing your eyebrows, “party’s a party.”
“well , it’s bigger. every single leader comes to it. hangouts on the weekends are usually split up amongst us and our little groups , so this one is the party.”
“yeah , sure. i mean , it would be dumb to miss out on it,” you chuckled with a shrug , pulling up to the administrative office you had been in hours and hours ago.
the blonde let out an excited squeal , yanking you into a hug before hopping off the cart and running into the building. you stayed still , waiting for her to come back out. “first in line , baby!” she shouted , raising her fists into the air as soon as she stepped out the door.
you cheered and laughed with her , turning the golf cart off and getting out. “i love you , sarah cameron,” you confessed , pulling her into a hug.
it was only one day , and you were convinced she might be your person. she had divulged you into all of her stories and drama and didn’t feel the need to hide anything from you so far. she gave you space when you wanted it earlier. she was good. “i love you too,” she replied with a smile, “lets go gloat!”
AFTER SARAH rubbed the win in her brother’s face , while you stayed back and watched it , you met up with the pogues. thankfully , taylor was still with cleo. you immediately pulled her to the side.
“okay , you’re pulling me,” she grumbled , stepping along with you.
“there’s a party tonight,” you stated.
“yeah , there’s one every year. they were just telling me about it,” taylor shrugged, “we going?”
“well , yeah , but on top of that rafe was flirting with me,” you blurted out , cheeks rosy from the thought of the interaction before and after the game.
taylor nodded slowly , glancing back at your new friends before looking in your eyes. “what about jj ‘perfect for you’ maybank?” she asked , nodding to the blonde boy , who was trying to wrestle with cleo.
“no , no. that’s the point. i don’t want anything to do with either of them,” you groaned , dropping your head back for a moment, “so i need you to cockblock if anything happens.”
“all summer? why don’t you just put on a frickin’ chasity belt?” taylor whined.
you rolled your eyes. “just for tonight. hopefully , rafe will catch on , and leave me alone. as for jj , i’ll just be his friend.”
“just lead him on?” taylor corrected you, “he was already bothering me about you. asking me all sorts of questions.” there was a smile in her words , trying to push you to go for it like she always did when it came to the cute boys at camp.
“not happening,” you simply stated , shaking your head, “just cockblock this once , and i’ll , like , suck your dick or something. i don’t know , just help me. because my roommate’s brother giving me slutty eyes and smiles the three times i’ve met him is not on my agenda , taylor. especially after sarah told me he’s kind of a douchebag.”
“okay , okay. you’re so uptight,” taylor agreed, “and now that you mention it , cleo and kiara were saying the same sort of things ‘bout him , so fine. i’ll cockblock.”
just as you two finished up , jj called out to you. “ladies , c’mon! dinner time!” he waved you both over. taylor sent you a look before jogging to catch up with the rest of the group. you headed that way , noticing jj stayed behind in wait. “i see congratulations are in order,” he smiled at you , walking in step with you.
“it was all sarah , really,” you smiled coyly.
he was cute. taylor was right about that. his unruly blonde hair shoved under a beat up , red cap. combat boots pires with a cut off tee. you hated that you were so obviously eyeing him. even more when he said something again.
“you can take a picture you know.” there was a smile evident on your face , eyes gentle as he looked at you like you looked at him.
you just blushed , walking a little faster. “dinner smells good!” you commented , opening the door and rushing in to find sarah or taylor.
you all went through the line , shoving yourself in between the girls so jj couldn’t talk to you. sarah and kiara led you to a table , and you were able to eat. you didn’t even realize how hungry you were until you were sat down.
“cleo , i think i’m in love with you,” you groaned , taking another bit of the sandwich.
“girl , this is nothing,” kie cut in, “you should’ve been here last year. she went all out!”
“i was trying to make a good first impression,” cleo shrugged with a smile , like her cooking skills were mediocre and not something you’d dreamt of before.
“so…” john b started, “taylor told me you guys used to go to some camp in tennessee?” his question was directed at you.
you nodded , covering your mouth as you swallowed the oversize bite you just took. “mmhm,” you hummed, “skyline ridge.” you answered.
“how come you came here?” pope asked this time.
“turns out it was a baby cult,” you admitted , feeling your ears turn hot at the statement. it was kind of embarrassing how you didn’t realize until after. but who’s to blame you? you were a kid. “like , it wasn’t obvious until you left , you know?”
“kinda like the kooks!” jj pointed out with his fork.
taylor shook her head, “no , it was a little more established than your classist island drama , jj.”
“yeah , it was bad , but who cares? we’re here now,” you smiled simply.
soon enough , you all finished your meals and split up yet again to get ready for the not-so-secret secret party. sarah and you were alone again , trading clothes and trying to find a good outfit for each other.
“hey , so i know we just met and all,” sarah began , shyly twist a skirt in her hands, “but i could tell there was something bothering you when we were getting dinner. everything okay?”
god , she was so sweet.
you paused , adjusting the shirt you had switched into before looking at her. “taylor’s convinced i should get a boyfriend this summer. specifically jj , and i’m just , i don’t know , that’s just not for me.”
she nodded , perching on the edge of her bed. “why not?” it was an innocent question.
“i don’t stay in one place too long ever. i think summer camp is the only place i’ll stick around for longer than a few weeks,” you answered , sitting on your bed to face her. clothes were scattered around the both of you , but your eyes locked and it was all left behind. “ever since i ran away , i haven’t stopped to look back. there’s no reason. i travel the world and do my own thing. boys just drag ya down,” you think you explained it well enough.
“i think the right boy could lift you up , if you let him,” sarah philosophied with a sneaky smile, “on that note , i’m gonna go meet up with john b. i’ll see you at the party , y/n/n.”
you waved goodbye , watching her walk out the back door and skipping over to cabin eight. you took a deep breath , mulling over all of the options your friends had been giving you all day.
by yourself , you finished getting ready. to be completely honest , you didn’t know if you wanted to go as much anymore. it was dark , and you didn’t know your way through these woods enough to go alone. you could easily just cozy up in bed and read a book.
a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. you rushed over , opening the wooden slab as you poked your earring through its hole. when the door opened , it revealed none other than rafe. “hey,” he greeted you , waiting for you to invite him in before he moved. he watched as you put another earring in.
“hi,” you replied , moving to the side to let him come in away from the bugs, “looking for sarah?”
he let out a chuckle , nodding his head. “yeah… she said she’d go on a beer run with me,” he explained , shoving his hands into his pockets after closing the door.
“she left for the lake , like , twenty minutes ago,” you grimaced , continuing to get ready while rafe stood in the cabin area. you shrugged on a crocheted cardigan and stood in front of him. “how do i look for my first party?”
his deep blue eyes scanned over your figure , taking their time to drink you in. your legs were exposed as you wore a pair of shorts you obviously cut yourself. the bralette-esque top sarah let you borrow covered hardly anything. the cardigan was your saving grace for any modicum of modesty. his fingers found his lips , rubbing them almost in an attempt to physically stop any nasty comments from flying out.
“you look real good , freshie,” rafe complimented you, “uh— i’ll let you get to the party. see ya,” he stammered out , reaching for the door handle.
“oh , well i can go with ya. since sarah ditched you,” you offered up , promptly getting him to stop opening the door. you don’t know what changed in the last minute for you to go from wanting to stay in for the night to wanting to join the camp whore on a beer run , but it was already offered.
“if you wanna. i mean , it’s just a beer run , so it shouldn’t take long,” rafe nodded, “i’ll have you back to your little pogues in no time.”
“you guys and your kooks and pogues,” you rolled your eyes , running back into your room to grab your phone and camera, “you do realize you’re all nobodies outside of that little island , right?” you questioned him , brushing past his body to slip out the door.
“you wouldn’t understand,” rafe sighed , following you outside before taking the lead to his truck.
“try me,” you pressed. you were walking passed everyone— going against the grain. you both waved to a few of the people who said hello first , and then your eyes lock on jj’s.
he was walking with pope and kiara , but his eyes were trained on your movements and who you were with. and you don’t know why , but your heart actually stung a little bit when you saw him tear his eyes away from you , going back to talking to his friends like nothing happened.
nothing did happen.
it’s a beer run with a fellow camp leader. big deal.
“so?” you nudged rafe with your elbow, “what’s this big thing between kooks and pogues my tiny mind just don’t understand!” you were being theatrical , and rafe chuckled a little bit before shoving you a little in the direction of his truck that came into view.
“it’s always been that way. the island was always the rich and the poor,” he began to explain, “but i think right now is the most polarized it’s ever been. i mean , we’re getting into fights all of the time. jj got arrested for sinking topper’s boat a couple of years ago! it’s all eye for an eye back home.”
rafe stopped to open the passenger door for you before moving around and climbing behind the wheel. you buckled up and looked at him. “you know that saying though?”
“hmm?” he hummed.
“if it’s always eye for an eye , eventually everyone is blind?” you mused , waiting for him to pick up on it.
“okay,” he rolled his eyes now, “you don’t get it.”
“no! hey , don’t pout,” you pointed at him when he focused more on the roads than the conversation , which usually you’d be grateful for a responsible driver , but you can only assume he usually isn’t. “it’s not me making fun of you as much as it is telling you there is a big , big world out there that doesn’t give a damn if your from the cut or the loop or whatever the fuck you call it.”
“figure eight,” he corrected you , fixing his pouty lips into a smile as he glanced at you again.
“whatever— do you have a fake? if not , i do , so we can get the beers,” you changed the subject.
and he laughed at you. “baby , i don’t need a fake id.”
“oh , well , okay. how old are you?” you stuttered at the nickname. what was with this man and terms of endearment?
“twenty-three.” he leaned over and gave you the biggest , toothiest smile.
“old man,” you scoffed , pushing his head away from you, “you should be old enough to realize that—“
“that the stupid generational rivalry is pointless. yeah , yeah,” he finished for you, “just let me buy you some drinks for the party and be happy about it,” he joked.
“oh , i don’t drink,” you shook your head.
that’s what got him to look at you fully. “shit— sorry , i didn’t mean to offend you. it’s just , i don’t know , you offered to come with me , so i guess i just assumed,” he rambled off as you started giggling.
his brows furrowed in confusion , not understanding what was funny or why you were laughing at him. “i’m kidding , ray,” you laughed , patting his head gently, “of course i drink. why else would i have a fake , doofus?”
with the relief that you weren’t actually making fun of him , rafe was able to laugh along with you. he did take notice of the nickname you gave him , though. “ray,” he whispered.
“like sunshine , ya know? it’s an oxymoron,” you explained, “and it could easily be an actual nickname for you , so it’s perfect.”
“ray like sunshine,” rafe echoed with a nod, “how exactly is that an oxymoron?”
you looked at him with a sly smile. “you’re not exactly cheery.”
“uh uh!” he argued back, “i can be cheery as fuck!”
you let out a belly laugh , tilting your head back , and rafe thinks he’s met his maker when you do. “i would looooove to see you be anything but flirty with me or grouchy with sarah. truly , i’d enjoy it,” you remarked , shifting your seat a little.
“there’s a lot you haven’t seen from me yet,” rafe remarked , proving your point of only ever being cheeky or grumpy.
“exhibit a,” you pointed, “i’m gonna start keeping count.” the two of you chuckled as he pulled into the parking lot ( of what you assume is ) the closest liquor store to camp.
“c’mon , honey. you’re mrs. rafe cameron if anyone asks,” he included you in his little scheme as if it was a necessity to this beer run. he hopped out of the truck , opening your door once again for you to slide out and land on the ground. “after you,” he smiled , opening the business’ door.
“okay , my ray of sunshine husband,” you playfully scrunch your nose , walking into the store. he was already trying to be ‘sunshiney’ after your comment.
you paused when you stepped in , waiting for rafe to drag you through the store as you’d never been. “follow me,” he simply said , grabbing your hand like he’d done it all his life , like you weren’t two total strangers. it was that moment that made you realize you were starting to break your own rules. well , maybe you didn’t realize it realize it , but in the back of your head? you did.
he lead the way to the back cooler , stepping inside and grabbing a case of beer and one of the seltzers. “you want anything specific?” he looked over to you , seeing you standing in the door way , holding yourself tight at the temperature change. “c’mere,” he gestured to himself and opened his arm.
despite yourself , you moved quickly to him and snuggled into his side. his hand ran up and down your arm , trying to warm you up. “grab whatever you want , and we’ll get outta here.”
your hand reached for a case of ciders , but you paused to look up at him for approval. he nodded and grabbed it before you could and ushered you out of the cooler.
“id please,” the cashier spoke monotonously , looking at you and rafe like you were idiots.
“marco , i literally come here every year. we have this conversation every year,” rafe groaned , digging in his pocket for his wallet.
“and up until two years ago , you were just another jessamine shit head underage drinking,” marco joked , nodding to you, “id , hon.”
“oh—“ you started , but rafe cut you off.
“hey , she’s good,” he nodded , sending marco a message you couldn’t quite read yet, “mrs. cameron isn’t old enough yet. she’s just along for the ride. right , baby?” he continued with his lie , wrapping his arm around you again and squeezing you tight.
marco rolled his eyes , knowing rafe was going to slip him a crisp if he just processed the purchase. “have a good night , y’all,” he grumbled. you muttered a small reply , waving meekly as rafe set a hundred dollar bill on the counter. he tapped it once before grabbing the cases of drinks.
you held the door open for him this time , seeing as his arms were full. “m’lady,” you jested , even bowing before him as he walked through the exit with a scoff.
“shut up,” he chuckled , shaking his head. he set the drinks in the back seat and opened your door. “git on up,” he tapped your back before closing the door— only after making sure nothing of yours was in the way.
rafe wasn’t too sure why he was being all gentlemanly with you. maybe it was because he wanted to prove you wrong when you said he was just a flirt or a grouch. maybe it’s the way you were someone that didn’t know him yet , and he could be someone else for once.
hell , wasn’t that what summer was for?
the drive back was calm. you and rafe just chatted , asking each other questions and really listening to the other one’s answers.
you couldn’t help but think to yourself that maybe everyone else had got it wrong. rafe had depth. you listened to the way he talked about his work , his aspirations , his ideologies. he wasn’t just some camp whore you were so easily labeling him earlier.
“you know what , hubby?” you hummed , hand out the window , surfing the air. your head was rested against the seat , but you turn to look at him with a smile on your face.
“what ever is on your mind , dear?” he replied , goofy smile matching yours as did his tone. the ongoing joke between you two made you giggle before continuing.
“i think you might be one of the most complex people i have ever met,” you confessed genuinely , sweetly almost. and like it wasn’t the best , most heartfelt compliment anyone had ever given rafe , you turned forward again , closing your eyes to just feel the wind passing you by.
rafe held back a grin to himself , mimicking you and just focusing on the road to give you a quiet rest of the ride back. the peaceful kind of quiet rafe didn’t even believe existed.
a/n here it is! please let me know if you hate it or love it or have ideas!!! also: tea me posting this earlier than i expected:)
taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @viennafantasies @cnnamongrl @embersfae @enchantingexile @urbrunettebombshell @wearemadeofstardust0 @psychicnatural @ecstqzy @ssqra @st4rkeyl0ver @shincidios @xoxo-ada @lmaolmaos @lilyhyperfixates @courta13
#ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ where’d all the time go?#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron smut#rafe x you#jj maybank#jj maybank smut#jj maybank imagine#outer banks au#obx au#summer camp au#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#outerbanks jj#jj outer banks#outer banks jj#jj x reader#outer banks rafe#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx
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Meant to Be
Marcus Acacius x Reader
Summary: He fought for his freedom and your hand.
In ancient Rome, a love story unfolded between a bold gladiator named Marcus Acacius and a beautiful noble lady, whose heart longed for freedom.
However, their love faced impossible obstacles, primarily the strict and overbearing father of the noblewoman.
Marcus, a strong and skilled warrior, fought in the grand arenas of Rome.
His every victory brought him one step closer to the freedom he yearned for. Little did he know that destiny had something more in store for him.
One day, as Marcus stepped into the arena, his eyes met the gaze of a noble lady, whose name was yet unknown to him.
Her radiance captivated his soul, and from that moment on, Marcus fought with a new fire within him, fueled by the desire to win not only his freedom but also the heart of the lady.
Your paths intertwined further when, against all odds, Marcus caught the attention of the noble lady's father, a stern and unyielding man who demanded nothing but the highest standards for his daughter.
He saw potential in Marcus, both as a gladiator and as a worthy suitor for his beloved daughter. If Marcus could prove his worth.
You on the other hand.
You were not blind.
You could see the gladiator looking at you in a certain way.
You could also see just how handsome he was. How great his built was.
You noticed the way he moved, the way he always won. You liked him.
As Marcus continued to triumph in the arena, his reputation grew, and whispers of his love for you reached your ears.
In secret, you exchanged stolen glances and heartfelt letters, your love blossoming despite the obstacles that stood in your way.
Determined to prove himself worthy, Marcus embarked on a difficult journey, training tirelessly to become more than just a gladiator.
He studied the arts, philosophy, and etiquette, moulding himself into a man who would be worthy of your hand.
The day of reckoning arrived when Marcus was granted his freedom.
With his newfound liberty, he approached your father, humbly seeking his blessing to marry his daughter.
Your father, initially sceptical, witnessed the change Marcus had undergone, and his heart softened.
He recognised the genuine love that existed between his daughter and the brave gladiator.
"You may marry my daughter." your father said and Marcus felt fulfilled.
His freedom was nothing compared to the feeling of his love and dedication finally reaching his goal.
With tears of joy running down your face, you ran into his arms, finally embracing Marcus.
"I knew you would do it. I knew you would come for me." you whispered.
"Always." he replied before embracing your lips with his.
It all felt so right.
Meant to be.
In a grand ceremony, surrounded by many, Marcus Acacius and you, a noblewoman exchanged vows of eternal love, promising to cherish and protect each other for the rest of your lives.
Marcus, the once-captive gladiator, became a free man, not only in body but also in spirit.
Together, you embraced a future filled with love, respect, and shared dreams, forever grateful for the journey that had led you to this moment of true happiness.
And it was only you and your husband.
Taglist:
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief
@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
#Marcus Acacius x Reader#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x female reader#marcus acacius x y/n#marcus acacius fanfiction#general marcus acacius#general acacius#gladiator ll#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#marcus acacius smut#Marcus Acacius imagine#Marcus Acacius imagines#Marcus Acacius x fem reader#Marcus Acacius fanfiction#Marcus Acacius fanfic#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#gladiator x reader#gladiator imagine#gladiator imagines#gladiator 2 fanfiction#gladiator II fanfiction#pedro pascal character
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I just noticed something
Hazbin Hotel has a large main cast.
But they managed it to make me like every single one of them?
Charlie screams naive Disney princess. But she has her own issues to face, she feels anger when lied to and can lose it.
Vaggie is the stormcloud to Charlies sunshine. Overprotective. But her past haunts her and she has to accept it.
Angel Dust seemed like the usual joke character that tells all the sex joke. When he actually deals with so much and copes with it in an unhealthy way and learns to unlearn those because he has reason to live for tomorrow now.
Husk was the standard grumpy character. When in actuality he had everything, was one of the highest. Until he made choices he can't take back and now he's at rock bottom. But that doesn't stop him from helping and listening to others.
Sir Pentious was the joke antagonist, not meant to be taken seriously. But he grew self confidence through those people and proofed that redemption is possible.
Nifty, again, joke side character, who has one motif. But she's not annoying. She always comes at the best of times to protect the people she cares about. Even if it is unintentional.
There were so many theories surrounding Lucifer. And then it was revealed that he is depressed, doesn't know how to actually talk to his daughter, seems to have no idea what actually happens in hell. He is so defeated. But his daughter shows him that there are so many things wirth fighting for and dreams are worthy.
Alastor was a fun character to begin with because he's so mysterious. But now we get bits and pieces of him interacting with other characters, him starting to lose that oh so dear control and it is interesting to see it all break down in those little moments only to fall back into the mask
#hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#charlie hazbin hotel#vaggie#vaggie hazbin hotel#niffty#niffty hazbin hotel#angel dust#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#husk#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#sir pentious#sir pentious hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel
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