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Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Hesperos/WoL [gender neutral]
Tags: Office Sex, Professor/Student relationship (wol is in 20s)
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“All right, that’s a wrap for today! Good rehearsal everyone, I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you’re here on time, it’s not long before opening day!”
You give a kind smile to the rest of your castmates, still in costume. Starring in a Greek tragedy, your costume features a Greek robe that you’ve honestly fallen in love with. The costumers outdid themselves with this you think, at least for a college level production all with people your age.
Golden bands adorned your arms, one for each wrist, and one around each bicep. The robe was made of a white cloth, both comfortable and true to the time period. Just like your arm bands, the robe was accented with gold, and rather loose fitting. Bits of cloth were pleated and ruffled to flow majestically at the slightest breeze, giving you a majestic look. But for how loose the robe was, it was actually rather short. While pleated sections of fabric hung down to your ankle, it did not cover anything. No, the robe ended almost mid thigh, but just barely.
Once dress rehearsals had begun, you had learned rather quickly how to do your blocking and movements without flashing your director who watched silently from the audience seating. It wasn’t the shortness of the robe that embarrassed you, but rather how like the rest of it, one artificial breeze for the drama of the play made you feel like you might get carted away for public indecency.
Strappy, faux leather sandals finish off the look, along with a necklace that dangled from your neck. While you adored how you looked in costume, you still hoped that you could have an easier time to move on stage in it. Rushing over to the costumer assigned to you, you request a solution.
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“I don’t… know. I think I might have two left feet, honestly.”
“I highly doubt that.”
- The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune
So pleased to finally share this commission for Pride Book Crate’s July box (@pridebookcrate on IG & Twitter), which was converted into both a print and a fuzzy cushion cover (which is cozy as heck, omg I love). It’s been SO exciting to see people posting their unboxings, and I’m delighted so many folks are happy with my contribution! They had requested just Arthur & Linus, so I drew inspiration from the farewell party and dressed them in a style to match the soundtrack (Nat King Cole 😭). And then, I couldn’t leave out the children, so, in the framework, you’ll find wee references to their characters. 💙
listen. listen. the parallels between rhaenyra and daemon in this episode. the alienation and rejection they both feel from viserys. the white stag and the white flag. the being covered in blood. viserys asking rhaenyra not to be like daemon a “thorn on his side”. it’s all about the gothic doubles!!! the doppelgängers!! the being the mirror of each other like emma d’arcy said!!
you gotta love how whoever painted this clearly was into it. ive seen other depictions of temptation and they are always debauched and demonic and sinister but the painter was like "im going to make it look actually fun for real!"
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Hi sorry for bothering but do you perhaps know this one-shot or fic of zhongli x reader smut. It has the lines of "you sex crave man",
"Remaind me not to piss of an archon", and "You really bring out the dragon in him". Again sorry for bothering but if you know please tell.
Never a bother, honest questions and I like supporting fellow writers who write so magnificently. It's worth the read, very lengthy and the kind of stuff I enjoy.
I do actually! It is by the amazing @genshingarbage
and here is a link. I have it stored in my drafts to read.
ok while I was searching for that bust of hercules I found THIS statue... jesus christ. the sculptor had to have been hard the whole time he was working
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It wasn't the first time they'd greeted the general like this, yet their heart pounded as though it was, their smile genuine but shaky. It didn't seem to matter just how long they'd been serving the famous Radahn... Their nervousness, that feeling of being awestruck whenever they saw him; it just never seemed to go away.
But it also didn't seem to matter how many times this would happen, because Radahn never seemed to mind. Each and every time, he would be warm and kind, a hand giving the soldier a firm but not painful clap on the shoulder as his arm slung casually around them.
"Now now," he began, tone playfully chastising as he gazed down upon them, "what have I told thee about that word...?"
"Sorry," they laughed softly, smile taking on a more bashful edge. "I keep forgetting that you'd... rather I spoke with you less formally."
"Forgetting?" Radahn's free hand went to his chest, and he effected an expression of appalled horror. "How couldst thee ever forget mine words?!"
"I... I'm sorry." They knew he was joking - the general was known and beloved for his good humour, after all - and yet the apology slipped from their lips nonetheless.
The expression on his face was somewhere between concerned and amused, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a sort of smile as his head shook. "Well... thou shall have many more chances to remember mine words going forward."
Their eyes blinked, head tilting. "H-How so, my lord?"
A grimace came over Radahn's face, and he raised his hand from their shoulder to lightly flick the back of their head. "Enough of the 'lord' business. I am barely any older than thyself!" Lighthearted chastising over with a clearly pretend sigh, he cleared his throat and continued. "To answer thy question... We are going to be spending more time together, of course!"
It was rather unbecoming of a soldier, the way their eyes widened with excitement upon hearing their general's words... so they hoped it wasn't noticeable. "I-Is that so?"
"Indeed! I am going to be setting out on a campaign, and I wish for thee to be there with me." Radahn's voice was full of merriment and warmth; it was almost enough to ease the worry in their heart.
...Almost. "You— You want me to come with you? Are you sure?"
"Of course!" The response came so quickly, so naturally, that it warms their heart. "...Without thy presence there, who else would say 'good morning' to me?"
...Their eyes widened for an entirely different reason, lips momentarily tightening with something between hurt and anger, until the general's good-natured laughter broke them from their thoughts.
"Ahh, I jest, I jest! That was cruel of me... I shall take a leaf from your book: I'm sorry. Really."
That first campaign together had been the first of many; and as it goes, Radahn really hadn't wanted the soldier solely for their warm greetings. (He did like them, though.)
Every day he would lavish praises upon them for their skill with the sword, for their tactical prowess... Every campaign, he would enthuse about how he would always have them by his side if it were possible... After some time, it had gotten to the point where some of the other soldiers - some good-natured, others less so - would murmur and whisper and crack wise about the general having a favourite.
('For the record,' Radahn had slurred in their ear one night over one too many casks of ale whilst celebrating a victory, 'I don't. ...Now, off the record; that's another matter entirely!')
"Good afternoon, my friend!"
The soldier announced their arrival with a knock at the door and their usual greeting; and since they'd been told so many times by the general that they didn't have to wait for his say-so to come in, they carefully shifted the basket they carried to one arm so they could open the door more easily.
"Mm?" Bleary-eyed, Radahn lifted his head from where it had been laying on the table where they'd usually lay out battle plans, and for a moment it seemed as though he wasn't sure where he was. "...Ah, 'tis thee, cully. Always a welcome sight."
His smile never failed to warm the soldier's heart... but their own was not quite as convincing. They'd been growing increasingly worried about the general ever since he'd returned from doing battle with Malenia's forces; he'd claimed the rot she'd unleashed had 'barely touched him,' was 'nothing to worry about,' would 'be over before they knew it...'
And yet, they'd watched how he'd changed. How his body was doubling in size seemingly by the month. How the flowing red mane he was so proud of was becoming brittle and dull. How his mind and memories would seem to slip and fail him now and again.
They could hardly believe the rot had 'barely touched him' when they were being sent out to procure medicines to counteract that very rot.
"Now now..." Their distress must have been more obvious than they'd hoped, because a large finger was tapping at their forehead, and Radahn was fixing them with a familiar look of faux-disappointment. "What have I told thee about worrying, hm?"
"...I can't exactly help it," they sigh softly, settling the basket of medicine down on the table.
"Oh... Should I take this as a sign that—" Radahn effected a scandalised gasp, "—I am, in fact, your favourite too?"
A chuckle escaped them despite themself, and now it was their turn to reach out to flick his forehead; gently, though. "Well... I mean... off the record and all..."
"Ha!" There was a gnarly wheeze at the back of it lately, but the general's laughter was as delightful as always. "I knew it..." His eyes were full of warmth as he laid his head back down, fatigued yet still as mischievous as always. "Just wait. When I am recovered... when this darkness has passed... I will show thee just how well I treat my favourite."
------
Radahn never did recover. Time passed - it could've been days, it could've been years, it could've been centuries - but the darkness never did; his condition only deteriorated, the warm and loving man they knew slipping away until he finally vanished into the desert one day.
They'd remained at his castle, right up until the day of the festival. It was the site of their fondest memories, their days spent in the general's kind company; Redmane itself had become an embodiment of those days.
...But those days were gone, and so too was Radahn.
When the day of the festival finally came, so too did their acceptance.
The battle had been long and fierce. They hadn't seen their general in person for so long; and even though the colossal figure riding wildly at the other end of the field was nearly unrecognisable to them... Radahn still managed to make them feel that incredible sense of being awestruck, right up until the end.
The dust had cleared. Those who had fought in the festival had departed. All that remained of the clash was the dust of the desert mingling with the damned rot that had cursed them all... the general's form, still curled protectively around his beloved steed... and the soldier, kneeling with him.
One hand reached out to lightly touch one of Radahn's tusks; and the other held tight to the blade they'd swung in his service so long ago, steadily raised it to their own neck.
Their long life had gone on long enough, and they found no regrets in their actions.
It was their last wish that, just as they'd hoped for in better days, the two of them really would be together always.
And as their vision dimmed, and their grasp on his tusk grew weak, one last phrase passed the soldier's smiling lips:
areudirty
gracieabrams
gummygunk
ellievsbear
stormborns
titsay
