#its really not worth it. USE THE DAMN BLOCK BUTTON

[kof-xiii]

nbh and just a random thought that got my blood boiling all of a sudden but uh i think dedicating your online presence to posting how much you hate something is such an exhausting mindset, of course criticizing and nitpicking work and identifying the negative aspects to a media you like is a crucial part of media consumption but if you make it a huge huge huge point of your online personality blog/acc/etc etc to be bitter, is that not an indication for you to genuinely take a break and move onto something else you actually like....... shrugs

[kaasiand]

It's kinda weird how, compared to Metroid Dread, Metroid Fusion was so much more blatant in

its prioritisation of linear story progression over exploration

its linear presentation (literally naming the areas sector 1–6), though it still does the classic "linear game pretending to be nonlinear" thing by taking you through them in a different, but still fixed, order

the way it literally directly tells you your every next step constantly

yet when playing the games, it felt to me that somehow, despite all of this, Fusion felt a lot less frustrating in its linearity to me than Dread. In Fusion it was immediately clear that I would just be sticking to a single sector for each part of the game and those sectors themselves would still be mostly freely explorable in a way that felt more similar to Metroid II, but in Dread there was just no telling AT ALL when the path behind me would be blocked off and it also felt wayyyyy less justified than in Fusion, especially with just how often Dread would be doing this.

With Fusion's extremely tense atmosphere being present throughout the entire game and so much of the story taking place and developing during the game itself, I was totally understanding of its structure and restrictions. Dread on the other hand just kinda made me feel nothing, except

frustration at the lack of exploration with every single door locking behind me constantly for no good reason. Even some obstacles don't *go away* but instead switch from blocking the path forward, to blocking the path back: the thermal doors, the lifts that go down if you stick to their spider magnet walls, the big boxes that you had to move with the charge beam (or grapple beam idk? or both?) it just gets soooo annoying

frustration at how you need to use 3 buttons simultaneously to perform one single god damned action

frustration at how abilities felt extremely underused in the level design—you rarely grapple your way across the ceiling to cross a pit like in Super (which is the kind of level design that allows for sequence breaks in completely natural ways that encourage player experimentation), no, you just open the grapple beam door lock with your grapple beam door key. Literally every single ability in dread relies on this WAY TOO MUCH in painfully obvious ways, including literally every single power beam upgrade

frustration at how missile tanks feel worthless because getting only 2 is just not worth my time (yet the total number of missiles is similar to the other games... a sign of the game being too long/padded compared to the old games)

frustration at how energy tanks feel worthless because every boss does 100+ damage per hit; you're just not allowed to be tanky and the game is forcing you to play in only one specific way. The full energy tanks are just straight up given to you at way too hard-to-miss points—it's not a reward for exploration, it's forcibly scaling up Samus's health so it can scale up the next bosses' damage accordingly and absolutely nothing ends up feeling different. And to make things worse, the energy tanks that you DO get to find on your own don't actually DO anything because they're fucking energy PARTS. They just deliberately made exploration as unrewarding as it possibly could've been

frustration at how almost every area looks the goddamn same and has no music to stand out with either

I must say Dread's final boss was actually really reasonable though, it was really generous with the heals/restocks provided in between & low damage numbers making it so that my collected energy tanks FINALLY felt like they were actually making a difference. I will hate that one arbitrarily locked door in the escape sequence though

[redwhitebreeze]

After a week of playing new Paladin on the new content I can confidently say my veredict.

It’s bad, and boring.

I haven’t been around for long to exactly know about the bigger issues but I still had fun with the combos and having to keep goring blade up kept me on my toes, it really helped me get into a rotation for high end content for the very first time.

The new paladin made the rotation more simple and straight forward? yes, absolutely. But it also made it more boring, your burst phase is the confiteor combo now and the big flourish it had it is now gone for me, spaming holy spirit was the prelude for the great finish that it was confiteor and the blade combo but now it has lost a lot of that due to requiescat being better used for the very same combo. Goring blade being a plain boring ogcd is bad and the impact is gone because it’s no more DOT, and outside your burst phase you just do 1-2-3 then atonements then holy spirit. You could argue it’s a pretty standard combo and yes it is but then you have the animations which they have no impact at all.

With warrior (my new job to go for savage content) you have the same damage button in upheaval but damn it looks big and explosive, also you pepper your 1-2-3 with some fell cleaves here and there, and you tell me which one feels more heavy on impact: fell cleave or holy spirit.

Also warrior has mitigations galore, bloodwhetting and shake it off are just insane, with paladin they basically divided shelltron into two skills for its own detriment: shelltron now gives you reduced damage and that’s great but your shield is now just there for decoration, bulwark just fucking sucks let’s be honest, 90 second cd for increased -chance- of blocking damage and without the added benefits of shelltron which is the regen, you can’t use only that for blocking damage, you have to mix it up with another mitigation which will probably be shelltron, making you press two buttons when it was only one before, and the 90 second window is not worth the defense it brings.

Divine veil doesn’t have the heal requirement now and it would have been nice but then they buffed shake it off, lmao. Also I haven’t checked but even with the buff to fight or flight and the alleged “buff” to goring blade and the addition of divine might I think paladin is still the lowest damage dealing tank. It still has clemency and passage of arms and personally I think they can do more with it but well shit it is what it is, I will still use it sometimes for normal content because Knight Aesthetic is eternal but high end content will be warrior exclusive.

Also shield bash still exists.

[theepisceswriter]

Jjk dudes promising just the tip but breaking it like 2 seconds later please!

Bestie I know you wanted multiple JJK characters, and I’ll probably still give it you, but I had something similar to this in my notes with Toji, so I decided to make a little ficlet with him instead surrounding this idea....kinda.

Synopsis: Your toxic baby daddy Toji hits you up after not being heard from for months with that smirk on his face that you just can’t resist.

TW: Dub con might apply here but I did my best to make reader aware that Toji was 99.99% lying abt just the tip and knew abt his intentions from the start, but I guess you can interpret it how you want, fembodied!reader, Toji is a trigger warning on his own, manipulation, implied that you have a child together, pregnancy mention briefly, breeding kink, toxic relationship, 18+, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.7k

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you flipped your phone over to see ‘TOJI WOJI 🥺🧸🥰....is FaceTiming you.’ Whatever he was calling for couldn’t have been important or even worth your time listening to at all. It was edging on 12 am in the morning, the ungodly hours of the night where sin ran rampant and thoughts became loud as the world around you silenced, a concoction of emotions that meant nothing good. Especially when the last time you received a phone call from him this late it resulted in a booty call that led to you pregnant with a child that Toji barely came to see. Still, you found your thumb lingering over the green answer button and faintly tapping on it, hoping that it wouldn’t go through, but instead, you were met with the sight of Toji. The raven locks on his hair poking out like always, the same old scar over his lip, and the same basic black tee decorating his body. He looked exactly the same as you had last seen him except the outside lights of the world illuminated his face as he appeared to be in what you assumed was the driver’s seat of his car. You felt your heart clench in your chest, memories of your relationship before he up and dipped on you clouding your mind to the point where you were damn near in tears wondering why it had to end so abruptly; why he left you the way he did. But those tears were soon pushed back by with an anger that had you ready to hang up in his face. You were so conflicted when it came to him, always had been.

“What do you want Toji?”

“You. I miss you, y/n. I’ve been thinking a lot about you and our family.” God, here he went with this bullshit again. Just when you thought the cycle was over he always popped up again, little white lies about missing you and his child so he could find solace in your bed for a week or two before dipping like he always did. Apparently, he wanted to come in and talk things out, just talk and try to redeem your relationship. You knew he was just telling you everything you wanted to hear with an ulterior motive behind his words, but you couldn’t resist that grin on his lips and the compliments of how nice you looked even in your nightclothes.

He was too good at this because the next thing you knew he was sitting on the couch in your living room with his legs manspreading out and trying to inch his way closer to where you sat on the opposite end. Your arms crossed and staring daggers into him while all he did was look at you as fondly as he could, as if he were genuinely envisioning a future with you and the child he left you within this moment.

“What the fuck do you really want Toji?” Your voice had a bite to it that left him smirking at your attitude and digging deeper into his mind to pull out lines he knew you wanted to hear, lines he knew would get him that satisfactory ending of you giving into his sweet talk and bold advances as he scooted a couple of inches closer to you. So close that his hand was able to rest on the part of your left thigh that the shorts you were wearing left exposed, gently kneading the area with his palm.

“You know you look good right?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes ready to push his hand off of you but his other hand blocked you from doing so, bringing both of your arms over your head and adjusting the two of you so that you were now smushed between him and the cushioning of the couch. As mad as you wanted to be at him you just couldn’t. He had indestructible shackles placed over your heart that tugged with each time he forced himself back into your life just like how they were now.

Flashbacks of the night you got pregnant suddenly came flashing before your eyes. The vivid imagery of the way he had your legs folded to the point where your ankles were by your ears as he pounded into you ruthlessly from above, hand around your neck tightening your airways and making tears form in your eyes. Blissed dazed out in a space that was too similar to subspace, too out of it to even respond to the “I’m going to fuck a baby into you and how ever many I want after that. Use you like the slut you are and breed you so good.” That had left his lips at that moment. 

Which is exactly what he did and here he was again, the two of you in the very same spot shimmied out of your clothes, and him ready to fuck a baby into you again once more.

“I just want you.” When he says it like that, voice soft and laced with what you hope to be some form of honesty, it’s easy to pretend like this is okay in a relationship—if that’s what you could even call this. That if you squinted your eyes hard enough and looked past Toji’s flaws that all this pain and suffering he put you through in the end would be worth it. Your feelings changing for him with each entrance and exit he made in your life. Always wondering what the two of you could’ve been if he was a better man. You had to be soulmates, there was no other explanation for why you kept coming back to each other. At least not any logical one that you could think of.

All the logical thinking left your mind the moment he pressed his lips to yours, those oh so soft lips that you missed and craved badly on nights when other men’s lips couldn’t contort to yours the way that he did.

This is exactly what he wanted—his gentle caresses and touch to distract you from the real reason why he was here. Which was only to use your body how he wanted before he went on with his life, not thinking about you again until he got horny once more. And it was the touch of his cold hands against your skin, working its way up to grope at your enlarged breast, that brought you back to this realization. Lips moving off of his immediately and backing up against the arm of the couch. Your lips opened in protest, only to be cut off by him speaking up first.

“You don’t understand how much I’ve missed your touch—your body. Do you know how much gorgeous you’ve become with a post-pregnancy body? Just looking at you is driving me crazy.” He continues on with his compliments. Each one hitting you straight into your heart and going up to your head to shush those thoughts that scream at you to not fall for his trap, but instead, you fell right into it. Allowing his to resume his position on top of you.

“We don’t even have to do much. Just the tip, I promise. I just miss the feeling of you around me so much.” It’s the first time this whole night that you were able to recognize one of his lies as just that, a bold-faced lie. You knew how he got when he was in the mood, how dark and clouded his mind got with lust to the point where he was a whole different Toji. But you let him believe that you believed that, a small okay leaving your lips along with a nod as you accepted his lips on yours once more; his tongue slipping past your lips to find yours, gently sucking on it and letting out a light moan at the familiarity of it. He didn’t even have to use his hands to guide his cock to your entrance because he was just that big, breaking away from the kiss to look at where the two of you connected and using his hips to guide his erect tip inside of the warmth of your cunt. For a minute, maybe even less, he kept his “promise” of inserting only his tip, but the feeling of your walls gripping on only the tip of his cock was enough for him to go crazy. Something on the verge of a whimper and a moan leaving his lips. He needed more of you and he was going to have more of you. Disregarding his promise like you predicted, he ruthlessly bucked his hips up against yours, his whole length entering you with ease from the build-up of your arousal that had taken the physical form of wetness.

“Pussy so wet just for me that you swallowed me whole.” He tried to pin it on you and if you weren’t stuffed to the brim with him right now maybe you would’ve rolled your eyes and told him how dumb he sounded, but you went along with it. He didn’t even give you time to adjust to him because even after months without touching each other he knew the pussy that he trained with constant fucking every week would remember his shape and form, adjusting your legs so they were folded up against your stomach and immediately getting to work.

“I might have to put another baby in you if this is what post-pregnancy pussy feels like. You feel so good and right around my cock, baby.”

Each thrust was like heaven on earth, his cock curved in just the right spots to his every sensitive area inside of you that left your toes curling and a faint white creamy line begin to form at the base of his cock. It had been so long since you’ve had a nice good fucking. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so full, so good to the point where tears formed around the edges of your eyes. No one, not even the toys you had spent $100’s on tucked away in your closet, came close to the affect that he had on your body.

He always knew just what to do and just what to say to have you crumbling underneath him. One of your favorite but also most disliked quality that he possessed.

[retrievablememories]

what happens at night | taeyong

title: what happens at night

characters: vampire!taeyong, reader, BP jisoo, side character ocs

genre: vampire!au, fantasy, angst

summary: There has been a vampire sighting in a nearby town. You and a few other amateur vampire hunters flock to the area for fun, but are soon in over your heads when you come face to face with a real vampire. 

word count: 2.6k

warnings: some violence, use of weapons, mentions of blood and blood drinking, cursing

a/n: i got the prompt for this fic from this writing prompt post

writing vampire fic just reveals that i am maybe a little too intrigued with finding different ways to describe blood, lmao

also, this picture...are you fuckin kidding me

"Y/N, look. You aren’t gonna believe this.”

Adrienne holds the digital ledger out in front of you, and you look at it with tired, uninterested eyes until your brain registers what you’re seeing. Your eyes light up as you recognize whose face is on the screen.

“Taeyong.”

You take the ledger from her as she offers it to you, holding it tight with both hands.

“The Vampire King?” Jisoo perks up and gets up from her seat to rush over to see the ledger, peering wildly over your shoulder. Likewise, Percy makes his way over to the rest of you at a slightly speedier gait than his usual unaffected amble.

“Can’t be,” he says, shaking his head in quiet disbelief even as he looks over your other shoulder.

“But it is.”

The ledger’s screen displays the seal of Hawthorn Academy and its vampire registry, which holds the name, age, suspected location, and family lineage of every registered vampire in the world, along with a plethora of other pertinent details. On Taeyong’s profile, there is the familiar portrait of him you’ve always seen—his hair styled perfectly and curling over his forehead, and his eyes dark, piercing, and shining vermillion.

Under the list of Status Updates, there is a new entry from yesterday—a sighting nearby in the city of Dresden. Within that entry, there is a blurry, zoomed-in photo of a man in a dark trench coat and black boots, walking away from the viewer and down a shadowy street lit up with lampposts, almost too vague to be worth deciphering to the average viewer; but that silhouette is unmistakable.

“When was the last time Taeyong was seen out in public? I can hardly believe it,” Jisoo says, her voice practically trembling with awe.

“If he’s letting himself be seen, he must have specific intentions...whatever those are,” Percy notes.

“Let’s go pay Dresden a visit,” Adrienne announces, darting off to her desk and starting to gather up her essentials—phone and silver staff among them.

“Go? Pay it a visit?” Percy echoes, his mouth rounding on the word go and his eyes widening.

“Of course! Why not? Isn’t this exciting? A sighting of the Vampire King so nearby, and so recently,” Jisoo replies, grinning with all her teeth. 

Percy narrows his eyes at her, uncertainty marring his features. “Yes, but what about dangerous?”

“Come on Percy, it’ll be fun,” you chime in. “Think of it as a field trip for baby vampire hunters. Dresden is huge, anyway, there’s like zero chance we’ll actually find him.”

“Just take it as more skills training,” Adrienne adds, grabbing her backpack and heading off to her quarters to get the rest of her things. “Except this time, we’re actually in the field instead of that same boring facility.”

Percy grumbles to himself, but he knows there’s nothing much left to argue about; when the three of you outvote him on a topic, he has no choice left.

--

By the time the four of you arrive at Dresden, it’s dusk. The perfect witching hour for the vampires to be out, with the last bleeding streaks of the sun fading out of the sky. The lack of sunlight unnerves Percy even more—you can tell by his disturbed countenance—but he says nothing. He quietly follows you out of the train once it stops.

On the outside, you all look like four regular sight-seeing young adults, taking a trip from the next city over and ready for a night on the town; but most of your weapons and gear are concealed within your clothes and the backpacks you wear.

“There’s a slight blood scent here,” you note, taking in a deep lungful of air once you notice it. Indeed, there is the lingering hint of sweetness and iron, and something more musky and earthy underneath it—like decaying organic matter. The smell every vampire hunter is trained to be able to recognize—the odor of a vampire who hasn’t taken their scent blockers.

“There is, though I’m just barely picking up on it,” Jisoo agrees, waving her hand across her nose and screwing her eyebrows up. “God, I’ll never get used to that.”

“Do you think he’s been here?” Adrienne asks, leading the pack as you all walk through the train station.

“I would think a high-ranking, old-ass vamp would know better than to leave their funk trailing everywhere,” Percy disagrees. “Maybe it’s a younger one.”

“Maybe we could get an actual kill tonight, then. Our first,” Adrienne suggests, and though her tone is nonchalant, her expression betrays her enthusiasm.

You chuckle. “Wishful thinking, but maybe that would make the seniors stop treating us like children for once.”

--

Your group ends up bouncing from the train station to a pub and then to a nearby park, where a festival is being held. There’s bright lanterns, food, dancing, singing, and little kids running around galore, which makes you think these citizens either don’t know about the recent vampire sighting in their area or don’t care.

You all spend an hour mingling around and checking out the festival’s fun-filled offerings, chatting in low tones about the recent vampire appearance and trying to put your skills to the test to scout out any other vampires that might be hiding in plain sight within this mass of people.

“Hey!” Adrienne’s shout rings across the area, and you whip your head around in shock as you watch her take off running behind some teenage boy, maybe 12 or 13 at most, who has managed to nip the digital ledger from her belt and take off with it.

“What the fuck?” Percy barks, and you all shoot each other a wild, surprised look before you and him follow behind her.

“Guys, really? Don’t leave me here!” Jisoo calls out from behind you. “You don’t need three people just to get the ledger back!”

You and Percy round the alley corner that Adrienne disappeared behind and spot her farther up ahead, still hot on the boy’s trail and cursing him profusely. He’s a lot faster than he looks. Just before you can get a good look at him, he’s turning down another road with her behind him.

“Maybe we can cut him off. I’ll go down one of the connecting streets,” Percy suggests.

“Wait, what? Shouldn’t we stay together?”

“That ledger is too important to lose to some street urchin, and the seniors will never let us leave campus again if we come back without it. You go that way, I’ll be down here.” He’s ducking into an adjacent alley before you can even respond.

“Shit…” you sigh and shake your head before running down the road he indicated.

You unstrap your silver staff from a hidden section of your pants and extend it, just to be safe.

This land is not overly familiar to you, with you only having been to Dresden a couple times before. You carefully navigate your way through the maze of interconnecting streets, listening for Percy’s and Adrienne’s footfalls, which have become distinctive to you by now, and the sounds of Adrienne’s yelling. There are few people on the streets, most of them at the festival or in their homes, which makes it easier to navigate and watch for the others as you catch glimpses of them rushing past neighboring alleys.

Percy bursts into the same alleyway Adrienne is running down, finally trapping the boy between them on either end of the narrow passageway. However, the boy remains undeterred from Percy charging toward him as he deftly jumps up onto a nearby closed dumpster and uses it to launch himself over the older man.

“Shit!” Percy makes a mad grab for the end of the boy’s shirt, but the boy is a few seconds faster and narrowly gives him the slip.

“Are you serious? You can’t catch a damn kid?!” Adrienne shouts; Percy only curses again and whips around to follow the boy.

You hear the commotion from a few roads over, and you make a beeline for the area.

Just before you make it there, Adrienne screams. The sound almost startles you into dropping your staff, and you tighten your grip around it. “Adrienne?! What’s happened?”

You reach the alleyway, your shoes skidding on the ground as you nearly overshoot it, but Adrienne is nowhere in sight. You look around confused and alarmed with your chest heaving, but there is no trace of her — when she was there only seconds ago. “Adrienne?” Repeating her name still doesn’t bring her out, and you see nothing as you walk farther into the narrow back street and search every shadow and corner. Something dark and distressing settles in your stomach, and when you catch a whiff of that blood-decay smell on the night breeze, your unease turns into an avalanche of fear.

“Percy,” you whisper, and you take off again. “Percy!”

Your heartbeat rushes in your ears, nearly blocking out all other sounds, and your legs and arms burn as you run. You are abruptly stopped in your tracks as there is another shorter sound, like someone suddenly being cut off in the middle of a scream.

You desperately want to call out for him, and the syllables of his name crawl up your throat though you struggle to contain them. The blood-decay smell still inundates your senses, and whatever vampire is skulking around this maze of streets with you is likely still present somewhere. You don’t want to call any attention to yourself with a shout, though it may already be too late. 

With a spiny chill driving itself down your back, you realize everything is suddenly silent. No insects, no night birds, no other people on the streets surrounding you.

Pushing the button on your staff ejects the silver blades from both ends, and you hold it for dear life as you stand in the middle of the dim alley, shivering despite your sweat and waiting for any hint that the monster is approaching you.

It happens so quickly that it’s almost outside of your perception.

The air around you grows significantly colder even with the existing chill from the early-winter season, and you shudder once more, your jaw clenching and molars chattering against each other. When you blink again, he is standing in front of you.

Taeyong.

Melting out of the shadows and becoming one with them all at the same time, a strange liminality similar to his existence—being alive and dead in the same time and space.

His mouth and chin are wet and red from blood, presumably that of your friends and teammates, which sends an intense ache through your stomach. The newness and excitement of the vampire sighting has drained out of you, replaced with stone cold dread. You’re not sure what any of you were thinking. Percy tried to warn you, but now he is likely dead for it.

Maybe it’s a foolish move. All your training has gone out the window in your panic and fear. You make a sloppy, sudden swipe at his front with the blade of your staff; and the next thing you know, it’s flying out of your hand and clattering feet away. Behind him, and out of reach.

It takes a second for you to realize he’s knocked it out of your hand without even touching it or you; his own hand is still raised with the movement of telekinetically shifting the object. “You came terribly unprepared. I guess I shouldn’t expect anything more from you fledglings.”

Your sweaty palm slides against the other leg of your pants where a smaller silver dagger is concealed in a tearaway pocket, but that idea is useless. In the time it’d take to get any weapon out, he could kill you.

“The Academy has really been in decline the last few decades. This is the caliber of hunters they’re putting out now?” Taeyong sucks his teeth, and he takes a step closer to you. Your entire body is on high-alert, but you feel too stiff to move a muscle, and you vaguely wonder if this is somehow his doing, too. Only in the stillness of this moment do you realize that you cannot detect any of that blood scent coming directly from him, though the putridness of it still lingers in your nose. It’s coming from somewhere else, then. This confuses you more.

When he realizes you aren’t going to speak, he stops approaching you and takes a moment to really study your face, his big and curious eyes blinking slowly. The redness of his irises and the shiny, pale quality of his skin from the moonlight shining on it make him look just as surreal as he truly is.

“You’re a pretty thing. Maybe I could make you one of mine.”

“Never,” you blurt out, and it’s the first thing you can bring yourself to say to the Vampire King.

“Oh, so you can speak.” Taeyong reaches for your chin. His fingers brush the underside of it, the coolness of his skin freezing you, before you snatch away from his touch, stumbling backwards. A flash of irritation sparks on his face. 

His hand reaches for you again, this time clasping at the back of your neck, and it is impossible to move away quickly enough. “Don’t waste any more of your time fighting. This will all be over soon. Well—this life, anyway.”

His teeth in your neck are sharper than needles, making your nerves twinge with stabbing pain; and then it’s strangely pleasant, like having painkillers injected into your veins. You can’t feel anything anymore except warmth and endorphins and his fangs inside you as the alley around you smears into a bunch of incomprehensible shapes—bricks, streetlights, strewn trash, Taeyong.

--

When you wake up, you’re in an unfamiliar place. An unfamiliar bed. You startle out of unconsciousness sweating and frightened, but with barely enough strength to push yourself up on your elbows. Looking around doesn’t provide you with many more clues; this space is murky with darkness, and your vision is foggy. You think you can make out the rectangular shape of a large curtained window, but it’s unclear.

You’re still wearing your clothes from the trip, although your backpack is now gone. Your throat has never felt drier in your life, and the pounding in your head threatens to split it clean apart.

You feel sick and feverish, like your body is trying to fight against some virus it’s picked up, but you haven’t the slightest idea where you could’ve contracted anything—you didn’t even eat at the festival—until you remember—

A door opens with a bang somewhere in the distance, and it isn’t until the footsteps grow nearer and a blurry figure approaches the bed that you realize the door is the entrance of the room you're in.

“You’ll want to feed soon.” As soon as those words break the quiet, you’re struck by the pungent smell of blood. Unlike the relative lack of response it would elicit any other time, its aroma pokes at a sudden and peculiar craving inside of you, and you find yourself futilely scrabbling on the bed to reach the source. “Lucky you. I have just what you need.”

There is a cold hand tilting your face up, the press of equally cold glass against your bottom lip, then the tang of blood entering your mouth. It is the best thing you have ever tasted, and a slowly dying, still-human part of you is horrified.

You finish the blood quickly. It doesn’t really seem like enough, but it does make you feel a little less like you’re actively decomposing. Despite your hazy vision, there is no misreading the small smile on Taeyong’s face.

“Happy Birthday, little one.”

[btsqualityy]

(A/N- Thank you so much for letting me share this! This Drabble takes place with Mama Min and Yoongi on the day of the 2021 AMA’s.) (Slightly NSFW)

You could admit you looked ethereal tonight; dress hugging your body in the best of ways, hair, and make-up topping off the whole look— all thanks to Hybe’s stylist. If you were going to be there to support your husband, why not do it style?

You have been getting enchanted looks and gasp throughout the night, especially when Hybe allowed you and Yoongi to take pictures of the red carpet together. It felt unreal when the camera flashes peaked when Yoongi and you made your debut on the carpet. What had the crowd growing wild is when he went in for a small peck on the lips for the cameras.

You should have known that the night was going to be rough; Yoongi has been testing you all day. The glances, the smirks, and subtle touches on your thigh and back had your libido on another level. If it wasn't for the hundreds of people in crowded you would've fucked him right then and there.

When it was time to leave Yoongi held your hand tight until you two entered one of the many black presidential trucks along with Jimin and his wife and one of the group's assistants. Jimin and his wife couldn’t keep their hands off each other the whole ride, which made you want to try to lead Yoongi on, which he cock blocked.

Yoongi whispered in your ear, “Min… the way I want you right now— I think we should just wait till we get to the hotel,” he hissed.

You sat back in your seat and pouted making Yoongi grin devilishly as he kissed your exposed shoulder. “I promise baby, the wait will be worth your while.”

The rest of the ride was like torture and at one point you were ready to join Jimin and his wife because of how risqué they were getting.

Before heading to the hotel room everyone said their goodnights and headed on their way. Unlike the others Yoongi had you stay out in the lobby so he could discuss something with his manager. By the time they were done talking about world knows what, he signaled to his arms and you both treaded through the empty lobby.

“You looked fuckable today,” Yoongi remarked. “It’s a damn shame that It’s no way I can keep you this polished tonight.” He lowered his tone slightly, “I’m about to slut you out in this hotel room.”

“The way you’ve been acting at that show Yoongi, I think I’M going to be the one slutting you out,” You giggled.

“Min, please don’t threaten me with a good time, but we will see about all that,” he said as he looked at you with pure lust in his eyes.

As he pushed the up button on the elevator an idea went through your head.

Entering the elevator you made sure no one else was on, you stood on the opposite side of Yoongi and bunched up your dress. Your hand ventured to your skimpy thong and slide it off in one tug, making sure you kept complete eye contact with the man standing in front of you.

His eyes widened as you stuffed the fabric into your clutch purse. “Min, you must be out of your mind,” He laughed.

“No, I’m just trying to make it easier for the both of us,” you said with a frisky tone.

Yoongi walked towards you and gripped your waist as he began to caress your neck. Now that you think about it, you should’ve left your underwear on because you began to feel your slick trickle down your thigh. He kissed you with nothing but hunger and thirst. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip and forced its way into your mouth as you moaned against him

The elevator stopped at your floor and he pulled away making you whine out noticeably. “We have to at least make it to the room Y/n-ah,” Yoongi laughed. He took your hand once again and led you out into the hallway.

(A/N- I do have a very smutty pt.2 that I can give tomorrow if you guys want it! 😊 also sorry for any grammar errors or typos I’m bad at writing in English 🥲 to avoid any confusion I’ll go by “AMA anon” lol.)

Oop I loved this! And don’t worry, your writing was really good! But yes, give us part 2 as soon as you can! 😭👏🏽

[alderaani]

more than gold

summary:  A lost Jedi Temple, a riddle, some literature, and feelings that Cody isn't ready to speak out loud. | AO3

note: written for @codywanweek and the alt day 5 prompt Sith/Jedi Artefact Shenanigans! sliding in on the last day with one more thing written than expected, so i’m happy with that! i’m pretty ill today so i hope it actually makes some coherent sense 😂 also if the riddle was super obvious, soz, never written one before and turns out it’s really hard.

-

“You know, I could have sworn I told you not to touch that,” Cody says conversationally, from where he’s splayed out on his back.

“Really? I’m sure I didn’t hear you,” Obi-Wan says, cheerful despite being crumpled in a heap. His elbow is in Cody’s gut. Cody glares at him.

The room they’re lying in is circular, stone, carved out of some Forced-damned mountain and according to Obi-wan, practically thrumming with power. The ceiling is high and vaulted, letting in slivers of light where intricate mirror systems catch the sunlight of double suns and project it deep underground. It takes on a slightly blue cast, reflecting off the huge pool of water they were lucky to not fall into. Four walkways at each cardinal point lead to a central platform, and interspersed between them are four waterfalls.

It should be serene. Except now the waterfalls are travelling backwards, and all the doors, including the one they came in by, are blocked. Cody scrambles up onto his elbows, dislodging Obi-Wan with a grunt.

“What did you do?”

Obi-Wan follows his gaze and gasps, delighted. “Now, will you look at that?”

Cody is looking. Frankly, he doesn’t trust this place enough to not keep his eye on it at all times. Obi-Wan keeps saying that this temple was built long ago, by ancient, peaceful Jedi as a place of learning, and that it won’t hurt them. After they got cut off from the rest of their men at the entrance, however, Cody thinks he could be forgiven for having his doubts.

As Obi-Wan himself proves, peace-keeping hardly rules out danger.

“Amazing,” Obi-Wan breathes, hoisting himself to his feet without a second glance, to walk back up to the plinth and stalk round it, examining the incomprehensible runes engraved there.

Cody is left to peel himself off the floor, and instead goes to prod at the barriers now sealing the exits with the end of his blaster. He tries not to look too much at Obi-Wan, at the soft sweep of his hair and the span of his shoulders. Being on their own like this is something he’s avoided, of late - not because he doesn’t enjoy it, but because he’s starting to enjoy it all too much.

He doesn’t trust the way his heart leaps when Obi-Wan smiles, when he asks him to call him ‘Obi-Wan’, when the cycle draws on and they’re up late again, companionably finishing reports and debating strategy. Or, as they had been doing until Cody got cold feet and started finding excuses, debating novels, which Obi-Wan checked out of the Temple archives and read aloud, one chapter at a time, before they turned in for the night.

He doesn’t trust himself not to ruin this by overstepping. There’s something about his general that makes him lose all control of his tongue, and puts him in danger of voicing thoughts that really he should not be having at all.

It’s agony. It’s bliss. It’s stretching him to breaking point, and this is possibly the worst situation they could have ended up in, really.

“These are made out of water,” he says over his shoulder, grunting as he tries to push his blaster through. He is, of course, unsuccessful.

“Ingenious,” Obi-Wan says. “How did they manage that, I wonder?”

Cody cuts a glance back at him, and grins, despite his exasperation.

“You’re not more worried about how we’re going to get out?”

Obi-Wan waves a hand. “I’m sure the path will reveal itself, in time. Oh, look - Cody, I think this is a puzzle!”

Cody bites back a groan. They do not have time for this. They never really had time for it, but Obi-Wan promised it would be a brief detour on their way to the capital for hyperspace lane access negotiations. He’d looked so excited by recon reports of a lost temple that Cody just hadn’t been able to say no. He’s never able to say no to Obi-Wan, even when he isn’t following orders. It’s probably his fatal flaw.

“I don’t suppose there’s an off switch? A back button?” He asks hopelessly. The Force, at least the Jedi sort, very rarely seems to work that way. Obi-Wan is always talking about moving through problems, about seeking balance and adapting to what’s around you, rather than manipulating it. It’s not Cody’s favoured approach; he was trained to leverage his environment to its maximum advantage, and finds he has little patience for anything else.

Obi-Wan snorts. “This is a defensive mechanism, I’m afraid. Judging by the architecture this was built at the height of the Sith Wars. This artefact is designed to trap us here until we understand the mechanism and progress, or until, back when the temple was occupied, someone would come and deal with the intruder.”

“That doesn’t sound very peaceful,” Cody says.

Obi-Wan shoots him an amused look, the warm, soft kind that makes heat rise from the pit of Cody’s belly right up to his ears.

“Even a pacifist may defend himself,” he says, then leans over the pedestal. “Now, how about you stop grousing and come help me with this?”

Cody rolls his eyes, but goes, slinging his blaster across his back and crossing his arms.

“And stop looming,” Obi-Wan laughs, catching one of Cody’s gloved hands and pulling it down to rest at his side. The simple touch makes Cody’s cheeks burn.

“Don’t see what help I can give you, Sir,” he says, frowning down at the characters surrounding the bright blue artefact. “I was never any good at Ithorian.”

Obi-Wan pauses, then tilts his head up. “Ah. Is that what it is?”

“I - I think so?” Cody was never any good at his language flashtraining; he never had the proper patience for it, but he can usually figure out the basics.

“No, no,” Obi-Wan muses, stroking at his beard with his free hand. “You’re quite right. Goodness me, it's been a long time since I last saw this dialect. Let’s see now…”

Cody steps back and waits, keeping his attention firmly split between their blocked exit points while Obi-Wan ponders. The slow upward movement of the waterfalls is eerie - it still makes noise, but none of it is right. Instead of the gentle patter he expects of water joining a larger pool, there’s a faint gurgling as they move further into each grate, travelling somewhere he cannot see.

Obi-Wan finishes his fifth circle round the platform, and the hand at his chin goes still. Cody stands at attention, expectant.

“It’s a riddle,” Obi-Wan says, and if possible, his delight grows. “Yes - the language is coming back to me now. Do you know, I haven’t looked at Ithorian in maybe 12 years?”

“Sir?” Cody says, tilting his head to look at the characters more closely. He doesn’t have even a passing proficiency at modern Ithorian, and presumably it’s changed a bit over the millennia. His training was focused on the basics, and only the useful bits, at that. He thinks he can make out the words for ‘ water ’, and ‘ enemy’ , both of which are either unhelpfully descriptive or frankly discouraging, but that’s about the extent of it.

“My old master - he loved prophecies. When I was a teenager I could never see the point of it, but it meant I spent a lot of time learning the old Ithorian dialects. They’re known as the most peaceful species, did you know?” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “They’ll exile anyone violent, it’s quite remarkable, really. I suppose in some sort of idealistic emulation, a lot of the early Jedi texts are written in their dialect.”

His blue eyes are keen, his laser sharp focus firmly on the podium. It gives Cody a moment to observe his clever fingers, the long line of his neck, the open delight with which he tackles this new problem. It’s a rare thing, to see him so relaxed, and Cody can’t help the fond smile that creeps up on him despite the circumstances. This almost makes it worth it, and on reflection, he’d rather an ancient temple than the last thing that had made Obi-Wan so happy; a wretched, bioluminescent fungus, which had infected half the battalion and given them hives. Their general had studied it for weeks.

Obi-Wan’s lips quirk up. Cody barely trusts himself to speak.

“I didn’t know, Sir,” Cody croaks, then pauses, fishing for something normal to say. “Didn’t we have to defend the governor’s daughter from an Ithorian bounty hunter on Ganaris-IV?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan grins. “Those exiles have to go somewhere, don’t they?”

Cody huffs a laugh and reaches up to scratch his neck at the seam of his bucket.

“Let’s just hope they didn’t all come here. What’s this riddle, then?”

Obi-Wan shifts to the side, then points at a spot on the podium. “As I said, it’s been a long time, but I think it starts here, and goes something like:

A thing to be forged, where water is thicker,

Worth more than gold, unless it’s pyrite that glitters.

An enemy of my enemy, or in hard times, in need,

Sometimes fair-weather, or in high places indeed.

What are you, traveller? ”

All of Cody’s hopes that it would be something nice and obvious, like “lightsaber” or, given what’s going on around them, “gravity”, escape from him like smoke. Jedi and their metaphors. It’s not just a quirk of Obi-Wan’s, clearly.

“Does that mean anything to you, Sir?” he asks, turning the words over in his head once, twice, then frowning when nothing comes immediately.

Obi-Wan’s brow is also furrowed, but in a leisurely, meditative manner.

“...I have some ideas, I think,” he says. “How about you, my friend?”

What does he think? He thinks that there are other sorts of puzzles he is much better suited to. Word play and idioms...what does a clone have to offer that?

Still, Obi-Wan is watching him, expectant and gentle, and he sifts back through the lines, a little more seriously this time.

“Ice, maybe?”

Obi-Wan nods, slowly. “Perhaps. Walk me through it.”

Cody swallows. “Ice is something that can be made, right? It’s not exactly forged, but…”

He trails off in uncertainty.

“Go on,” Obi-Wan says with another one of those soft, devastating smiles. It fractures all the thoughts in Cody’s head, and he has to stop, clear his throat and gather up all the pieces.

“I suppose...it’s just thicker water, isn’t it? On warm planets it’s a valuable commodity, it’s found in high places, and I suppose if you wanted snow, a freeze would be fair weather.”

Obi-Wan is rubbing his beard again, and he’s still smiling. “Fascinating. I would never have thought of that...only, I don’t think it’s quite there. That mention of pyrite is troublesome, and the ‘enemy of my enemy’, where does that fit in?”

Cody shrugs his shoulders, frustrated, and feels a hot flush creep up his neck. “Don’t know why you’re asking me, to be honest, Sir. Kamino hardly covered poetry.”

There’s a slight pause, then Obi-Wan’s hand is on his again, tugging it slowly down from where he’s crossed his arms.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he says, soft.

“Do what?” Cody’s voice is gruff.

“Dismiss yourself. You do it sometimes when we’re reading together. There is often no right and wrong answer to these things, no secret. There is only perspective, and you see things I never would, if only you would trust yourself.”

Cody looks down and away, back towards the waterfalls and their slow, glacial climb. He isn’t sure that’s true. He enjoys what Obi-Wan shares with him, what other lives he gets to touch in their books, but more than anything they convince him that, beyond war, he knows very little of anything at all. He would like to, someday.

His eyes land on Obi-Wan’s lips briefly, before he tears them away. Particular experiences he would like to know more than others.

There was one book that Obi-Wan had read early on, back when this infatuation was just setting its first tendrils into him, about a forbidden romance at the heart of the old Mandalorian court. Two heirs of rival clans battling to be together against the good approval of their noble relatives. It had been torrid, ridiculous and entirely unexpected when Obi-Wan had suggested they break up their reports with some literature.

But what it had done was give him the words to express the crawling heat in his stomach, the urge he has to reach out, to touch, to soothe, to care for. He’d known what he wanted before that, of course, in a more rudimentary manner, but it had gifted him the language of yearning.

Suddenly, a particular passage springs into his mind and he straightens.

“You don’t think it could mean ally, do you? In Beneath the Armour, Mata threatens Clan Riza by saying he has ‘allies in high places’.”

Obi-Wan pauses, and then a brilliant smile spreads over his face. “Yes, that’s it! Pyrite - Fool’s Gold; a false friend! Brilliant Cody, whatever made you think of that?”

Cody grins, even though Obi-Wan can’t see it, and doesn’t answer.

“Is that really it?”

“I think you’re very close,” Obi-Wan says. “The characters engraved into the platform...yes! Stand close to me, Commander.”

Cody does, watching curiously as Obi-Wan lifts his hands, shuts his eyes, frowns, and pushes . Six blocks that make up the platform lift, the characters on each glowing bright, lurid blue. Under their feet, something scrapes, shifts and clunks, before the platform lurches upwards, spinning gently.

There’s a thunderous gurgling sound, before all of the pool beneath drains away.

“The answer,” Obi-Wan says, slightly breathless, his hair a little out of place. “Was friend.”

“The doorways are still blocked,” Cody notes drily. The plinth with the blue orb that started this whole mess has also risen, and underneath it are a set of very wet, slimy looking steps. “I don’t suppose it’s as simple as just walking down these and getting in?”

“Likely not,” Obi-Wan agrees, then inexplicably shifts a little closer, so that they are sharing space. Cody’s heart skips a beat. “But it’s like I told you, Cody. You are far greater than what you have been given.”

Cody coughs and looks at his feet, at their boots almost toe to toe, pleasure at the praise singing low through his body.

“Now,” Obi-Wan says, too close and not close enough. “How do you feel about another puzzle?”

Cody groans, laughing, and after a moment, follows his General into the dark.

[mellowswriting]

Hey I saw your requests are open! I love the quarantine series! I’ve been on a Marcus pike kick lately and I’ve been super stressed about college and my work load trying to graduate😩 I’d love to hear your interpretation of Marcus when his girl is going through this cause you know he’s 💕that guy💕 - how he’d help you relax and everything... maybe even some smut if you’re feeling up to it 👀

Take a Break

pairing || Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

summary || Marcus helps you relax after college stress

word count || 2,369

warnings || Explicit Sexual Content (fingering, praise kink, soft dom!Marcus, allusions to p in v sex), stressed out reader, Marcus to the rescue, domestic fluff, ‘good girl’, no use of y/n

a/n || As a college student who is also ready to explode from school stress, this was cathartic as hell to write. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

Your cursor hovered over the submit button. This research paper had been the center of your academic focus for nearly three months and had taken up the majority of your energy for far too long. Once that damn paper was submitted, you could breathe easy for a while and not have to see statistics and graphs in your sleep anymore. So you took a deep breath and hit the button, relishing in the relief that washed over you - for approximately three seconds.

There were still assignments to be worked on, textbook chapters to read and take notes on, and you just wanted to throw your laptop into the ocean instead. Fuck it all. In that moment, all of your progress and hard work and the finish line that was so damn close really didn’t seem to matter. You would rather hide under your blankets for the last month of the semester than even think about philosophy notes or biology tests.

But you couldn’t.

There was no way in hell you were going to let the last two years of hard work and a solid grade point average go down the drain, especially when you had a summer well on its way where you could relish in not having academic responsibilities. You rubbed a hand down your face with a frustrated sigh and put your textbook down on your desk - maybe just a bit harder than necessary, because the door creaked open a few moments later.

“How’s the paper going, honey?” Oh, Marcus. Your sweet, sweet Marus, who’s words were already making tears of frustration prick your eyes.

“It’s finished. I just turned it in.” You said, your voice devoid of the usual pride that followed a well-written assignment, and flipped open the book in front of you.

Marcus’s hands fell to your shoulders as he stood behind your chair and started rubbing, those strong fingers working the tension from your muscles. “What are you doing then?”

“I still have a ton of shit that needs to get done. Notes and a ton of reading, and I have to study -” You cut yourself off with a heaved breath. The stress was getting to you, you could recognize that, but it wasn’t enough to overpower the anxiety of impending deadlines, even if you still had plenty of time and wiggle room to get them finished.

Marcus paused. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you like this, and he wasn’t about to discount what you were feeling by telling you to relax or something else equally as stupid. “Okay, how about you come have lunch with me? You need a break. You can’t be productive when you’re burnt out. Maybe we can talk it out, help you come up with a plan.”

It took a moment for you to convince yourself that it was okay to leave your desk, to focus on something that wasn’t your classes for a little bit. When you nodded, Marcus smiled at you bright enough to melt some of the frustration. Unbeknownst to you, he had a little something planned.

If there was anything true in the world, it was that Marcus Pike was the best man the world had ever seen. The stress you were feeling had been building up for the past week, growing heavier with each moment that it went unchecked, and he could tell. It was obvious in the way you held yourself, in the way that all the sleep in the world didn’t help the tired look in your eyes. He knew he could do nothing to help with the actual classwork itself, but he could do whatever it took to ease the stress.

So the moment you essentially chained yourself to your desk, Marcus set about with his plan. First, he tackled the housework. He cleaned the kitchen and living room until they were spotless, grateful that your headphones blocked out the sound of the vacuum and kept his little project a secret. Then he cooked up your favorite meal and lit your candles in the living room, leaving the space warm and homey.

The surprise on your face was worth all of the effort. You buried your face in his shirt to hide the tears of appreciation that sprung into your eyes, your fingers fisted in the fabric as you tried not to full on cry at his sweet gesture. You sniffled a quiet laugh before you wiped the wetness away from your face.

“God, what would I do without you?” You pulled him close for a kiss, one he reciprocated eagerly. Those big, warm hands of his settled on your cheeks, thumbs rubbing sweet little circles against your cheekbones.

“I find myself asking the same thing everyday I get to wake up next to your pretty face.” He whispered against your lips and gave you one last kiss before he guided you to sit on the couch with your soft throw blanket tucked around your shoulders.

“Marcus… you didn’t have to do all this…” You murmured as he handed you a plate and settled in next to you with his own.

“Of course I did,” He rubbed a soothing hand up and down your calf. “Besides, this isn’t even everything.”

You captured his hand in your own. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you, too.” Marcus chirped with a smile, lifting your joined hands to kiss your knuckles. “Now eat up, you need your energy.”

Never in your life had you felt more appreciated, more taken care of, and apparently this wasn’t all he had planned. He finished eating before you - you swear, that man practically inhales food - and he drew your feet into his lap to gently massage the arches. It didn’t take him long to ease the stress of the looming workload. Somehow, he always managed to find the perfect words to remind you just how capable you are and that you were on the right track.

You set your plate down on the coffee table and slid closer to Marcus’s side, all too ready to curl up with your lover and spend the rest of the day soaking in the bliss that flowed from him, but he was quick to stand and urge you to your feet. The moment of confusion dissipated when he led you to the bathroom, where he had laid out the makings of your favorite stress reliever - a bubble bath.

“Oh, Marcus.” You sighed as he began filling the huge tub, already stripping out of your clothes in excitement. “You better get in there with me.”

“But this is supposed to be about you, not me.” Marcus said with a small shrug.

“I’ll enjoy it even more if I have my man with me,” You purred, stepping into his space in only your bra and underwear to press a lingering kiss to his lips. The surprised hum he gave you made a little thrill fly through you. “Please, baby?”

“Anything for you.” Marcus smiled as he reached around to undo your bra and pull the straps down your arms, moving on to curl his fingers under the hem of your underwear and tug them down as well. He kissed your thigh when you moved to step out of them.

Marcus yanked his clothes off with no flair and stepped into the steaming bath, settling into the water so quickly that it damn near sloshed over the sides of the tub. He reached for you and you couldn’t help but smile. It was precious, the way he guided you into his lap amidst the bubbles and pulled you close against his chest.

Little kisses were peppered along your shoulder and up your neck, the heat already working at your sore back. Marcus’s hands slid up your belly, cupped beneath your breast to hold you close, and the combination of his presence with the heat and soft floral scent of the bubbles had your worries slipping into the background.

“I missed this.” You murmured as you melted against him, your head lolled back on his shoulder. It had been far too long since you felt peace like that. Marcus’s fingers rubbed soft patterns into your skin and you were in heaven.

“Me too,” He kissed your temple and you could feel the smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Marcus.” You looked up at him. He seemed just as relaxed as you felt, his head tilted back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed. “You make me feel sane in the midst of all this stress. I don’t know what I would do without your support. You’re such a good man.”

Marcus whined low in his throat. Your praise always did something to him, lit a fire in his belly and made him want to squirm with happiness. All he ever wanted was to make you happy, make you feel as cherished and loved as he possibly could, at least as much as you made him feel. Normally he was good with his words. He could wax poetic about how much he loved you and how he was the luckiest man alive with you by his side, but your sweetness left him dumbstruck.

Since his mouth couldn’t form the words he wanted to say, he used it to lavish your bare skin with kisses as he rubbed at your tense muscles, your skin slick with the soapy water. He could feel the small moan he worked from your body and smirked - he absolutely lived for those little sounds, the ones that told him he was making you feel relaxed and happy. Your hands slipped down his thighs that bracketed your body and began mimicking the circles he massaged you with.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one helping you relax, sweetheart?” Marcus teased despite the way his cock was slowly hardening at the small of your back, only provoked further by the light drag of your nails along his thighs.

“Can you think of a better way to relax?” You teased right back as you arched back slightly to grind against him, using your hands on his thighs to support yourself. Marcus inhaled sharply and you could feel the subtle way his hips pressed up to meet your movements. Need began to build low in your belly.  

“Are you sure?” Marcus rasped and at your nod, his hands slipped around to your front, one hand settling low between your hips to firmly hold you against him, the other trailing down to cup your sex. Your low gasp made him hum, a dark tone that you recognized from those moments he took you apart piece by piece in the comfort of your bed. “Are you feeling needy, baby?”

“Always need you.” You spread your thighs, bracing your feet between the sides of the tub and his legs to support your desperate little grinds against his fingers. His middle finger curled to glide up to your clit but he didn’t give you the friction you craved, that damn tease. “C’mon, make me feel good. Please?”

The desperate quality your voice had taken on was enough to make Marcus moan against your neck, his tongue shooting out to wet his lips before he whispered in your ear. “I’m gonna make you come before I get you in that bed. A little reward for all your hard work, hm?”

Before you could even whine out your need for his promised reward, he finally began moving his finger against your clit and pleasure flooded you, leaving you to meet his movements with little circles of your waist. Marcus would usually tease you at least a little before delving in and drowning you in pleasure until your legs were shaking and your mind was left blank, but he seemed to be in a giving mood after all of your efforts. Every pass of his fingers over your clit had that tension pull tighter, your pussy tightening around nothing. You ached for something to fill you, his fingers, his cock, you didn’t care. The relief of pleasure after so much stress had your release building faster than you were used to, and your hands fumbled for purchase to keep you grounded to reality as Marcus worked you closer and closer to orgasm.

One hand clutched at his wrist, desperate to keep him right where you had him, and the other found itself buried in Marcus’s hair. He angled his head to give your better access, letting you grab at him to be your anchor, kissing up your neck and placing his lips right at your ear.

“Good girl,” He rumbled, chuckling at your sweet little gasp. “Such a good girl for me. You gonna cum all over my fingers, aren’t you? Yeah, you are. That's it.”

“Oh god, Marcus…” You gasp in that pleading tone that made something possessive bloom in his belly and he redoubled his efforts, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging slightly. “Fuck!”

Water sloshed over the sides of the tub with the intense way you jerked against him, your orgasm cracking through you like a sharp flash of lightning, arcing and splintering up your spine and leaving you wrapped in a warm haze. You trembled against his chest, your legs snapping closed around his hand as he slowed his movements until his fingers were completely still. The warm water eased you even further into that sweet headspace of your afterglow, made more sweet by the kisses and praise your lover pressed into your skin.

“You still with me?” Marcus murmured and you looked up at him with that dazed look he absolutely adored. At the sight of your pursed lips, he leaned down and kissed you, slow and languid as he let you find yourself again. Wandering hands helped ease you back down to earth, his strong hands working at your already loose muscles. “You did so good, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

You whined quietly at his praise, curling closer for more kisses and affection, only to whine again when he pulled away. “Please?”

Marcus chuckled. “Fine, but I’m getting you in that bed in a few minutes. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

{Taglist}

@iamburdened @everyhowlmarksthedead @jenrebloggingfics @xserenax-13 @silverstarsandsuns @luminescentlily @peterpstuff @leonieb @lazybeeches @withasideofmeg @freeshavocadoooo @chattychell @ew-erin @i-ship-it-ironically @artsymaddie @mrsparknuts @wyn-dixie @notabotiswear @lunaserenade @jitterbugs927 @theorganasolo @the-witty-pen-name @northernpunk @lemonlime09 @la-lunaluna @andruxx @greeneyedblondie44 @bloodsuckingbastards @coldlilheart @gracie7209 @green-socks @paintballkid711 @lord-of-restingbiface @asta-lily @sarahjkl82-blog @a-skov @himbotroy @marvelousmermaid 

[purple-vixen]

Love is a Locked Door - Dick Grayson/Reader

Summary: Damian asks you and Dick to check if there are any monsters in his closet. Somehow the two of you end up locked in there.

_

You have been friends with Dick for quite some time now. He was definitely one of your favorite people in the world. Dick was funny, kind, smart and selfless, and also strong and very, very handsome. Though the latter ones you never dared to say out loud.

You were in love with Dick Grayson, and you kept this secret under lock and key. Making a move never really crossed your mind. You and he were friends for so long that you were convinced he would never see you in the same light you saw him, besides, you were afraid of ruining your friendship. No one understood you like him, there was no way you were going to risk it.

Being his friend meant you were a regular Wayne Manor visitor, consequently being able to witness Dick's crazy siblings. They all adored you, though Damian was the one who became most fond of you. In the beginning he tried to hide it, but eventually stopped doing so. It was very surprising for the batfamily to see Damian getting attached to someone so quickly.

Damian would show you his action figure collection, play violin for you, ask your opinion on his paintings and he introduced you to every single one of his pets. Not to mention the times Damian would show up in your apartment's balcony seeking advice or just someone to talk to and you two would chat and drink tea all night. You always scolded him for not using the door like any other normal person, but after seeing it was not going to work you decided to let it slide.

You saw Damian like the little brother you never had. He was a cute little cinnamon roll. A deadly cinnamon roll that knew how to kill a person with just two fingers, but a cinnamon roll nonetheless. Which is why you were not able to say "No" to Damian when he asked for you and Dick to check if there were monsters inside his bedroom’s closet.

You and your best friend were now inside there, each one holding a flashlight in your hand, pointing the beams to every shelf, hanger, pile of clothes and corners possible. You had to admit, you had the impression something was a bit off, considering that Damian and Jason were also in the room and they still haven't tried to kill each other yet.

Although the closet was spacious, you and Dick accidentally bumped into each other. He grabbed your shoulders to stop you from falling and you could feel your heart beating so fast it felt like it would jump off your chest at any second.

— Be careful. — He whispered softly. You were glad it was too dark for him to see you blushing as he wrapped his strong arms around you.

— Uhm… Found any monsters yet? — Damian anxiously paced back and forth as he watched his oldest brother and you turning his wardrobe upside down.

— Not yet. —

— And if we do, we're gonna kick its ass. — Dick added.

— Hey, (Y/n). —

— Yes, Damian? —

— Thank you for helping me. —

— Anytime, Dami. I'll always be there. — You walked up to Damian just to ruffle his hair, the youngest Wayne shyly grinned in response.

Dick let out a soft chuckle. Little did you know, to Dick Grayson, you weren't just his friend anymore, you became the one he fell in love with. Seeing you and Damian interacting always made his heart melt like crazy. He thought it was so adorable, you were so adorable. It made him want to kiss you even more than he already longed for.

— What is it? — You raised your eyebrows in confusion at your friend.

— Nothing, nothing. I just... remembered a joke. — Dick scratched the back of his neck, cheeks tinting a light tone of pink as the image of being close to your lips secretly ran through his imagination. — D-Don't stand too far from the door, Damian, you have to watch it for us.  — He changed the topic.

— I already am watching. Just keep looking, Grayson. — Damian answered.

— Aren't you too old for the "There are monsters in my closet phase? — Jason was plopped head over heels on the bed, playing Subway Surfers on Dick's phone since his had run out of battery a long time ago. His green eyes glued to the screen, tongue sticking out as he tried to beat his brother's record.

— Jason, take it easy, he's just a kid. — Dick sighed. Being the older one, it always fell to him to cease his siblings' bickering.

— Aren't you too old to be alive? — Damian snapped back to Jason.

— Damian! — Dick rebuked.

— Oh, I spy with my little eye a very ugly monster, he's 4 foot 8 and wearing a turtleneck. — Jason teased.

— And I can see a deadweight spreading germs on my bed.  —

 — Enough, you two! — Dick ordered with authority. — Jason, give me my phone. Since you and Damian will keep on arguing I want it back. —

On his way to his older brother, Jason winked at Damian, who nodded back. As soon as he handed the phone to Dick, Jason smirked at him and then quietly sat back on the bed like nothing happened, hands on his lap with a rather comical angelic face.

— Sorry about that, (Y/n). — Dick changed to a soft tone as he stared at you with puppy eyes.

— It was taking too long, I guess that's a Guinness record. — You joked, trying to lighten up the mood. — Don't worry, I signed up for this when I became your friend. —

— Yeah… Friend. — He mumbled to himself.

You two went back to searching Damian's closet. A couple minutes had passed when the young boy cleared his throat, trying to get yours and his eldest brother's attention.

— Father is requesting me for an emergency. I must go. — He announced.

— Well, I better get going too. Old man's request is an order. And who am I to say no to beating up criminals? — Jason instantly jumped out of the bed and put on his leather jacket.

Words weren't exchanged, yet with just one look you knew what Dick had to say when he turned to you: "I have to leave."

The moment Dick got up and started to walk away, Damian rushed out of his bedroom, leaving the closet door unattended.

— Damian, wait! The...— Before you were able to finish your sentence, a loud slamming sound reverberated. —...door. —

You pointed your flashlight to the doorknob and tried to open it.

— It's broken. Last time Alfred went here to put away Damian's clothes he ended up locked till someone opened on the outside. — Dick commented.

— I know, but it was worth a try. — You shrugged your shoulders. — Talking about Alfred, We could try calling him. I bet he's the only person in the Manor right now. You know, beside us. —

— Great idea! — He took his phone out of his pocket. Dick unlocked his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Alfred's name, he barely had time to hit the "dial" button before his phone ran out of battery and turned off. — Jason. — Dick growled, recalling the fact Jason borrowed his phone to play games.

— No prob. I can get my phone, it's in my purse… My god, I'm so stupid. I left my purse! — Dick burst laughing and you elbowed him, only causing him to erupt an even louder chuckle. 

— Well, that's better. — He shrugged his shoulders.

— How can it be better? We're locked in a closet! —

— There was that one time I got stuck inside a garbage truck with the Riddler. —

This time you were the one laughing. That's one of the many reasons you loved him, he always knew how to make you smile no matter what the situation was.

— I bet you loved hearing his riddles all night. —

— Believe it or not, that wasn't even the worse part. I had to soak my suit for an entire week. —

— But seriously, how are we gonna get out? — You asked as soon as the laughter died down.

— To be honest, I have no idea. —

You both tried yelling at the door to see if anybody would show up. Then Dick tried doing the credit card trick he often used to open doors, it didn't work. 

You started avidly searching for something you could pry the door open with. Eventually you encountered Damian's arsenal. The fact Damian kept a stash of deadly weapons inside his closet didn't surprise any of you.

Dick tried picking the lock with a sai and you tried slashing the doorknob with a sword. Dick would have found quite hot the way you wielded the katana and made a perfect dash attack, would have, that was if you didn't almost slice him with the sword on accident. As the last shot, Dick tried to force the doors open by throwing himself at them, the doors were blocked by something neither of you could tell and Dick lightly hurt his shoulder.

— Don't worry. I've been through worse. — Dick reassured.

— Dick, that does NOT leave me less worried about you. You could have a paper cut or a gunshot wound and I'd worry the same. —

— So you're worried about me, huh? — You could see his remarkable smirk dimly lit by the flashlight.

— I'm always worried about you, you idiot! — Dick's smirk grew wider at your reply. — Gosh, sometimes I wish I could wipe that smirk off your face. — You grumbled as you crossed your arms.

— Then why don't you try it? — Dick snapped in a flirty tone.

You inclined yourself towards him and your lips touched his. It was just a peck, it lasted for a couple seconds but for the two of you it felt like the time froze.

— Did that work? — You lifted an eyebrow. But then rolled your eyes when you realized that his wide smirk had become a full grin.

— I think you should try it again. — Dick pulled you closer to him.

Once again your lips met. This time the kiss was hungrier, needier. If only you knew that kissing him would feel that great, you wouldn't have held back for so long. Now that you were there, so close to him, you were free. And so was he.

Dick always pictured how it would feel like to slide his tongue in your mouth as you tugged his hair. And it was so, damn, good. Better than he ever wondered it could be. Dick felt in cloud nine, sensing goosebumps as your fingertips roamed around his abs. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, your chest was pulled flush against his, yet it still wasn't close enough.

You both pulled away breathless. The room was dimly lit, but as Dick tried to regain his breath, you could see his sapphire blue eyes with the pupils blown out.

— I guess that worked. — You joked.

— I should try being cocky more often. — He replied with that same flirty tone. — So… How long did you…? —

— For a while. —

— Yeah, me too. What took you so long? —

— Well... I was afraid things would get awkward between us. I wasn't sure if you liked me back. —

— Are you kidding me? I've been dropping hints for months! — He chuckled. — After all of this is over do you want to go on a date with me? —

— I'd love to. — You grinned.

You two were about to continue your makeout session when suddenly the creek of the door was heard, the bright light from the bedroom almost blinding your eyes since you got used to the dark from being locked in there. Both you and Dick jumped out of each other, in an attempt to not get caught.

— Okay kids, seven minutes in heaven is over! — Jason mocked after opening the door to your way out. Damian right behind him.

— Seven minutes? We've been locked here for two hours! — Dick protested.

— You say it like you weren't enjoying it. C'mon, just thank us. — He smirked.

— What do you mean by "thank" the two of you? Wait… You planned this? — You questioned.

— It was actually Damian's evil master plan, but I helped him execute it. Ya know, making Dick's phone run out of battery, hiding your purse, pushing the desk in front of the door so that you couldn't bust the door down. That kind of stuff. — Jason shrugged his shoulders.

— And apparently it all went well. — Damian nodded. — TT. Maybe too well. —

— Dami! — You rebuked. — Why did you do that? —

— I figured that if you started dating Grayson, you would have an excuse to visit us more often. — He crossed his arms as his cheeks blushed.

— You're aware that if that happens she will come here to visit just Dick, right? — Jason asked.

— Lay a finger on her and you're a dead man, Grayson! — Damian snarled and grabbed your hand, dragging you along with him as he started running. You couldn't help but chuckle at the fact the 11-year-old was so protective of you.

— Hey! I want my date back! — Dick whined and started running after you.

You rolled your eyes at the two boys as you ran, you knew tonight would be a long night since you first arrived at the Manor.

[chillwithaster]

SUMMARY: “Wo ho ho there, Kaedehara, where do you think you’re going?” Venti and Xiao moved to grip each of his wrists. If Kazuha had not known any better, he would think they were shackles by how deathly their holds were.

Venti gave him a light smile. As if he’s going to let this bleach-streaked, toothpaste-hogger fiend anywhere close to his date to the-

“Your date?” Xiao started.

Whoops, did he say that out loud?

RELATIONSHIPS : Albedo/Kong | Aether (Genshin Impact) || Kong | Aether/Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact || Kong | Aether/Venti (Genshin Impact) || Kaedehara Kazuha/Kong | Aether

Please consider supporting me on Ko-fi because im kind of in a need for extra cash to help out my family during the pandemic ! every little bit helps and I'm giving out incentives for donations ! A dollar for a personalized reviewer and study guide or a genshin fanfiction of your choice !

AO3

“Well, this is most unfortunate.”

Venti could already feel the caffeine in his systems fuel his flight-or-fight response as he saw not one but two of his roommates standing outside the library.

He really needed a drink and pronto.

This was supposed to be his shining moment; the ballad to end all ballads; the righteous bard’s claim to a golden prince’s heart after their loveless rendezvous.

Venti had finally gotten the courage to ask Aether out to the Ludi Harpastum Dance – one of the most anticipated events in the entirety of their university. It was known as a Mondstadtian custom that he himself absolutely adored for its flowers, games, cuisines, and especially romantic atmosphere.

It was going to be perfect, really.

But no, Barbatos above and mighty, these – unsultry fiends decided to rain over such a wonderful parade.

“Agreed.” He shot a half-hearted glare at the white-haired male next to him, who had decided to dress-up from his usual plain tees and jeans.

Instead, Kazuha was wearing a half-buttoned black blazer (one that Venti swore was his, mind you) with black skinny jeans and a white polo-shirt. His hair was tied tighter than his usual lopsided ponytail, and Venti swore the other’s glasses had never been cleaner.

Now, though Venti was quite ecstatic to see his friend out of his usual horrendous fashion-style, he was visibly irked by the bouquet of Carnations in Kazuha’s arms.

“Move. You’re blocking the entrance.” The other two broke from their staring contest to find slitted amber hues.

For as long as Venti knew Xiao, even the Contemporary Music major knew his roommate looked good in a turtleneck.

And unfortunately for him, Xiao knew that too.  

Sporting a sleeveless dark green turtleneck and a black leather jacket fastened firmly around his waist, Xiao glared from behind the brown, large toy dragon plushie he was hugging.

“Uh excuse me.” Venti chirped, a hand to his hip to assert his dominance as their senior. “I was here first, mind you. Now buzz off.”

Xiao cocked a brow at him. “Don’t tell me you’re bringing in food to a library.”

The braided boy gawked at him before guiltily looking down at the two boxes of doughnuts in his hands. Boxed in pastel green and white, his warm, delicious, better than what his other roommates could ever bake in their entire life, homemade desserts stared back in shame at the thought of being left behind.

“Of course not!”

Kazuha and Xiao did not believe him.

“Of course…” The Inazuman began before moving past Venti. “Now please excuse me, I need to speak with-“

“Wo ho ho there, Kaedehara, where do you think you’re going?” Venti and Xiao moved to grip each of his wrists. If Kazuha had not known any better, he would think they were shackles by how deathly their holds were.

Venti gave him a light smile. As if he’s going to let this bleach-streaked, toothpaste-hogger fiend anywhere close to his date to the-

“Your date?” Xiao started.

Whoops, did he say that out loud?

Venti turned to his supposed ally as he released Kazuha’s hand. However, despite his fumble, the Cheshire grin on his lips still slashed through. “Yeah. My date to the Ludi Harpastum Dance.”

If looks could kill, Venti would be six feet under.

“Isn’t it quite bold of you to assume he’d want … you?” Kazuha began, scanning him up and down.

“I am offended!” Damn, the senior could feel ten years being subtracted from his time on earth. “And yes I do! Unlike both of you, I’ve known Aether the longest. From all the way ever since he moved here, so that makes me his best friend.”

The other two were not convinced.

“Yeah. Friend.” Venti wanted to hurl something hard into Xiao’s smirk. “And aren’t you more mature than that? For such an old man, you’d think you’d be past using the length of a relationship to measure its worth.”

“I agree with Xiao.” Kazuha hissed from behind, and Venti almost held a high grin at knowing why he was so defensive. Kazuha only had a month in his little pool of Aether interactions, so he knew he stood no chance if that was the criterion. “One’s closeness mustn’t be measured by how much – but rather how well – that time spent together was.”

Venti rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever.”

Honestly, he had not expected this. Especially not from these two.

Venti had always assumed that Xiao wanted nothing to do with relationships, especially since Xiao had made it quite crystal clear to anyone that had tried making moves on him that he was not interested. Same goes for Kazuha, who seemed to be more inclined to pour his focus into his studies in Literature rather than pursuing a love life.

But alas, here they are.

“Excuse me.” The three snap out of their heated staring contest to find a mop of kempt blond hair behind them.

Albedo stared at the three suspicious figures with a raised brow. As the junior librarian of the campus, it was his job to make sure students were not loitering outside to cause a mess.

“You’re keeping others from entering. If you have no business here, could you please go back to your dormitories.” His eyes shift to the pastries in Venti’s arms. “No food inside.”

Venti could just hear the snickers from behind him.

“Right, of course.” He started. “Sorry, Albedo.”

The three would have moved to allow the blond entrance had Kazuha not seen the striking figure painted diligently on the canvas in Albedo’s arm.

“Wait.” The albino held a hand to Albedo’s shoulder. “That painting…”

The bright crimson on Albedo’s cheeks was already a dead giveaway.

Venti and Xiao stopped in horror before peering over Albedo’s shoulder. Ah shit.

Drawn with the precision only the famed Kreideprinz could attain was a figure basked in golden locks. The figure’s face was turned away ever so slightly from the viewer, framed by light bangs as soft eyes gazed longingly into the sunset behind them. But even without seeing any other details, the two already knew who this was.

Suddenly, a plushie and a batch of doughnuts just felt sad.

Albedo turned to face the trio, shamefully hiding the portrait behind his figure.

“You like Aether?” Venti began.

“Yes, and what of it?” Albedo brought his jacket’s sleeve to his mouth, covering the bright blush he was harboring. “I don’t believe that I have any reason to be quite ashamed of such…and for you to be so scrutinizing…”

The three stared at him like kicked puppies.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

Albedo stopped and looked at the gifts in their hands.

“Ah.”

The weight of the situation just immediately dawned on the four.

“It seems the captor of ours hearts knows no restraint.” Kazuha sighed wistfully.

Xiao said nothing, but a nod was sufficient.

“…Are you all here to also ask him to the dance?” Albedo leaned on the door.

Even without an answer, he already knew.

“We can’t just go in there.” Xiao sighed. “It’ll end in a disaster, trust me.”

“But we cannot just let such an opportunity pass.” Venti saw how Kazuha was almost ready to barge in the doors for himself.

“Right, right, calm down there, he’s not going anywhere.” Venti offered.

Albedo moved to turn around, and the three watched him peer through the library’s wooden doors.

There seated amongst several stacks of books was their culprit. Aether had a textbook over his head and a whale pillow under his folded arms. With how slow his chest was rising, the four knew he was asleep.

“I should scold him next time. The library is not his bedroom.” Albedo smiled fondly at the figure, and the other three could only stare in defeat.

There was no way they could just barge in there and disturb his peace like that. Especially not when he looks so exhausted. Aether would just be overwhelmed by all their invitations, and the last thing they wanted was to be a burden to their beloved.

“So, now what?” Venti moved out of the way, glancing in confusion at the other three.

Kazuha and Xiao shared a look, but it was Albedo that first opened his mouth.

“We should take him to a date. A proper one. One from each of us. And one where we could help him alleviate his stress and show him a good time.”

The three stopped in consideration.

Albedo continued. “Think about it. He’s quite exhausted. If our feelings for him are genuine, then we should be willing to console him when he needs us the most. And only then – perhaps -  he can decide who he wishes to take to the dance.”

Venti had wished his first date with Aether were under different circumstances.

But at the same time…he isn’t against the thought of spoiling Aether silly. Even if it is shared sentimentally with three other people.

After a moment, it was Kazuha that gave an opinion. “But we should set ground rules. If the purpose of this date to help Aether unwind, it is imperative that none of us ask him to the dance.”

“Why?” Xiao crossed his arms. “Then wouldn’t that just render our dates pointless?”

“Not quite.” Kazuha offered a smile. “Aether’s happiness should come first.”

Xiao agreed in a heartbeat.

“Okay, let’s go with that.” Venti smiled at the prospect.

Yeah, Aether’s happiness is the topmost priority. And if none of them could provide that for Aether, then Venti thinks that none of them (himself included) are worthy of Aether’s kindness!

“But…” His thoughts blank. “Can I go last?”

“Why?” Albedo raised a brow.

“My paycheck doesn’t come until next Thursday.”

If his peers had one thing in common, it was how stupid they could make someone feel just by staring.

“I had to cut back time for my classes, okay? Sheesh!” Venti argued.

“Then that’s settled.” Albedo sighed.

“May I go first?” Kazuha offered, and though none of the other males seemed to object, Xiao was quick to reply with a sharp ‘why’. The albino bashfully chuckled. “There is a musical I have been meaning to bring him to that is in three days. It would be a shame to miss it.”

There were no objections.

Albedo raised an open palm, only to be met with several blank stares.

“A form of contract. May the best man win.”

The blonds lips were quirked upward slightly, and though apprehensive, Venti shook his hand.

Venti wasn’t the smartest person, but he wasn’t dumb either.

He may not know a lot when it comes to studies, but he knows one thing.

When these three wanted something, they would break the earth just to get their way.

“Indeed! May the winds guide you in your endeavor.”

But it also takes one to know one.

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from Grace ) Jungkook x OC

Summary : Friends with benefits? Or maybe Enemies who just happen to fuck? Areum and Jungkook love driving each other crazy, but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  

Chapter 7

Author’s Note : This isn’t a chapter update. Just a snippet of how they met ;) 

Two Years Ago ~ How they met. 

“So, first day at work?” My sister gave me a bright, vibrant grin as she watched me shimmy into my slacks , struggling to yank the skin tight fabric up my legs.

I was half tempted to just choose something a little less form fitting but, Jung Hoseok, my soon to be boss was a hot piece of ass and I wanted to make an  impression. 

The kind of impression that would end in me , under him , horizontally. And him well, inside me preferably. God , he looked so hot in those fitted suits of his , dark hair falling into his face . That sharp as a blade jawline and that beautiful damn smile. He was so humble and friendly, which meant that he had a gorgeous daddy dick and knew exactly how to use it. 

My sister, so attuned to my thinking , read my mind like a book. 

“Don’t even think about sleeping with your boss again. That's how you got fired the last time remember?” She said sharply.

I rolled my eyes.

“I quit. Because he lied about being divorced. There’s a difference.” 

“Still Hobi is a stickler for rules , don’t do anything stupid.”  She warned. 

I grinned a bit. 

My perfect, holier than thou sister would never understand the thrill of good sex, I thought . And one look at Hoseok told me that he had bomb dick game. And men didn’t really care about rules when they saw my ass in this particular pair of pants. It was a theory tested and proven. 

“Its not stupid to want to ride a gorgeous man into the sunset. It’s the only fairytale ending I believe in “ I said loftily. 

“Well, I’m only looking out for you , Areum. I am incredibly proud of you for landing this job. Jeon Inc., is one of the biggest conglomerates in our country. You did well.” She looked annoyingly bright and cheerful for someone who had actually got up at the ass crack of dawn to make me breakfast and had then driven half way across Seoul to deliver it at my apartment. 

I loved her with my whole entire heart but my sister had a tendency to sometimes treat me like I was still five years old. 

Which I loved, most of the time. 

But not when I was already running late for the first day of work. 

“unnie, i love you but you need to go suck Seokjin’s dick and leave me alone.” I grinned wide at her and she turned an alarming shade of red. 

“Areum!!!!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, you’ve familiarized yourself with all the Office policies, right?” Hoseok narrowed his eyes at me and I groaned.

“Yes.”  i muttered, morose.

“Yes?”

“Yes sir.” I groaned. God, he made me want to kneel down and suck his dick but also made me want to knee him in said dick, at the same damn time. 

“Especially the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office and the dress code.”

I gritted my teeth. 

Ugh, no amount of daddy dick was worth putting up with being talked to like an errant school girl , 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good. Now, we have a well stocked wardrobe department in the fifth floor. I would suggest you go change into a more suitable pair of work pants “ He waved his hand, dismissing me and I turned around, trudging back to my desk. 

So much for nailing the boss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was a little awed that the company had a bunch of things for the employees . Things I’d never heard of before. There was an actual ‘nap’ room where you could take a twenty five minute nap , once a day. A wardrobe department for when you needed to change your clothes and  a whole garden out in the terrace for team meetings that were informal. 

Apparently, the entire set up had been designed by the younger Jeon kid, Jeon Jungkook. The whole thing was patented in his name and he was also a super talented digital artist, evident in the bazillion gorgeous murals mounted all over the office,  all of them signed with a beautifully scripted “JK”.  

 I hadn’t met him yet but he was apparently incredibly smart, incredibly handsome and also the biggest man-whore in the entirety of Seoul. 

Which fair enough. i didn’t begrudge good men the right to pussy. And if he was getting so much of it, he was probably good at what he did. That was cool. 

What wasn’t cool, was him apparently leaving his cum stained fucking pants in the  closet in the Women’s section . The same closet i had dug into five minutes ago looking for appropriate clothes , only to have my hands met with a damp, sticky white mess that clung to my fingers like ...well like cum. 

“What the fuck....!!!” I screeched in disbelief, stumbling back and landing hard on my ass, shaking my hand in despair like that could get rid of the grossly disgusting mess that now coated my digits. 

Completely out of it, I wiped the mess on my blouse of all thing, realizing a split second too late , what a bad idea  that  was. 

“Oh, gross!!” I sobbed out in disbelief .

“You alright, angel?” 

The words came from right behind me and i whirled around, surprised. 

I got the wind knocked out of me as i stared at the fine , fine specimen standing in front of me. ‘

it was a face that looked like it was straight out of the most luxurious fashion magazines in the world. Beautiful ebony black hair that fell into deep, almond shaped doe eyes. Eyes that fairly glittered with mischief. He had a nice strong nose and a beautifully red pair of lips , quirked up in a wide smile. 

“You alright?” His voice was perfect, not too deep but with a masculine cadence to it. 

He was completely shirtless, grinning like it was going out of style,  as he pulled on pants over his gloriously muscled thighs. I watched him carefully tuck his underwear in, before buttoning  the pair of jeans up. 

He was tall, just a little shy of six feet and had the body of Adonis, with broad shoulders, beautiful pecs and drool worthy abs that tapered to a ridiculously tiny waist. 

I stared down at my hands and his eyes followed mine. 

“Oh, my bad. I thought that was the closet for the used clothes.” He grinned unrepentant. 

it took me a second to realize that it was his cum.

I was covered in his cum. 

“What?!” I hissed in disbelief , staring at him in pure horror. 

He held his hands up. 

“This is not my fault. The girl told me she’d swallow every drop of it and then choked half way through-”

“Oh my fucking God...” I groaned in disgust. 

“Although I’m not complaining now... Wouldn’t have met you if it weren’t for her... What’s your name, pretty?” 

I stared at him, slightly slack jawed. 

What kind of a man whore-

I froze. 

No way. It can’t be.

“Jeon Jung Kook.” I said drily. 

His eyes widened. 

“Well now you have the advantage ....i don’t know your name.” He pouted. 

“You should be in a cage.” I snapped, turning back to grab the nearest skirt. I moved to leave but he stepped in my way, blocking the path with both hands held up. 

“What are you doing?” I narrowed my eyes at him. 

Jungkook chuckled.

“Come on baby..Don’t be mad.. Its just a little bit of cum. Granted you did not get the pleasure of getting it out of me yourself but that can easily be remedied if you just-” 

“You will not have a dick to cum out of , if you don’t move right now.” i warned him. 

Jugkook’s eyes widened at that.

“Um... you do realize who I am?” He smirked. 

“A man whore with bad taste in hook-ups? A girl who can’t even swallow? Really Jeon, how desperate were you  ?” I smiled. 

His eyes danced at that.

“ Not as desperate as I am now.... Go out with me.” 

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not happening. Get out of my way.” 

Jungkook let out an actual groan at that but he moved aside nonetheless. 

“What??..come on, please , angel, just one date.....” 

I shook my head. 

“ I’ll send you the bill for my dry cleaning Jeon.” I flipped him off before stalking right out of the room. 

“Gonna make you fall in love with me, new girl.” He called out from behind me. 

I scoffed at that. 

Yeah right.

Author’s Note : I had to write their first meeting okay???? I’ll update tomorrow or the day after . 

@veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@jincentvangogh

@unicornbabylover

@ggukkieland

@yoongisdragon

@aamxxrii

@brooky95

@apollukee

@taesgalore

[specterss]

i think the issue people are having is that it literally seems like she’s saying there’s a certain *high* percent (like 80% or more) of supercorp becoming canon but when she says that that information is coming from her *sources*, there are going to be some younger fans who will take her literally and think that that’s a fact rather than an opinion. i have nothing against leigh, and i want nothing more than supercorp to become canon. but i know not to get my hopes up. i don’t have anything against her staying hopeful or spreading some hope to other fans, but when i see posts like that, some fans really might not know that those numbers are her *opinions*. and if supercorp doesn’t end up becoming canon, those fans really might end up devastated because we get close and closer to the finale, more fans will think that what she’s saying is a fact and there will just be heartbreak. maybe i’d have less of an issue if she explicitly said that those are her opinions so that people won’t be fed false hope and get their hearts broken when they don’t see what they expected/wanted :/

I can completely relate to this sentiment of not wanting people (especially young viewers) to get their hopes up only to be devastated. You and I and plenty of other shippers have been spit on by this show countless times and it’s a natural thing to not want others to feel the same. And instead of taking this feeling and directing at the show, a lot of people seem to be directing it at Leigh. We can’t control what the showrunners decide to do for this final season, so some of us are pinning these issues onto her.

But look, if sc doesn’t become canon, it’s not Leigh’s fault for hyping it up. It’s the show’s fault for giving its viewers false hope after dangling sc endgame under our nose like a damn carrot every single season.

Ultimately, criticizing Leigh is like shooting ourselves in the foot. The sc fandom has taken big enough hits, we don’t need to be divided at a time like this. If someone doesn’t like her posts, that’s completely understandable; the block button is free. But she’s a fan like the rest of us and theorizing like we all do. The percentages are a reflection of her own opinions, they’re not concrete, and she’s stated it many times over. Bottom line, follow ppl who reflect your point of views. Block those that don’t. It’s not worth diving the fandom

[sohotthateveryonedied]

I Was Lost For You to Find — Chapter One

Read here on AO3!

Summary: 

(Civilian AU in which Bruce is a foster father and takes in each of the batkids over the years.)

“Are you certain about this?” Alfred asks for the thirtieth time since Bruce first began the paperwork.

Bruce has his phone in his hand, already punching in the number for the social worker who will be releasing Dick into Bruce’s custody. It will take a while to work out the details, and a judge will have to give the final okay, but hopefully Dick will be out of juvie and into a proper home by the end of the week.

“Taking care of a child is a big commitment. Are you sure you are up to the task?”

Bruce presses the talk button and holds the phone to his ear. “How hard can it be?”

Bruce hasn’t been the same since the circus.

He tries to block it out. Being there when the Flying Graysons fell, seeing it happen with his own two eyes...it was like reliving that night in the alley all over again.

His nightmares now take the shape of two bodies slamming into the sawdust floor of that damned tent, their limbs twisting into unnatural, snapped angles on impact. He will forever be plagued by the immortal fragrance of peanuts and popcorn lingering in his nostrils, the scents themselves now laced with shock, horror, tragedy. Bruce will never again be able to enjoy a movie theater without his ears ringing with the screams of the crowd around him, each spectator doomed to watching the devastation as it fell fifty feet before their eyes.

Most of all, he hasn’t forgotten the absolute terror in the littlest Grayson’s eyes as he watched his entire world come crashing down, right in front of him. It’s a terror Bruce knows well—one he wished no other human being would ever have to experience.

“I can’t just leave him, Alfred.”

The morning paper is laid out on the table in front of Bruce, its headline a gut-punch all its own. “Haly’s Circus Acrobats Killed in Tragic Stunt, Leaving Behind Orphaned Son.”

Alfred clicks his tongue as he clears away Bruce’s breakfast plate. “Social services will take good care of the boy, I’m sure. That’s what they are there for.”

“In this city? Do you really believe that?”

“Can’t we put that awful circus tragedy behind us? I understand your concern, Master Bruce—I often myself find myself worrying about that poor boy. But you cannot save the world on your own. I fear that getting too close to this tragedy will do you more harm than good.”

He’s right. Bruce knows he’s right. It’s only been three days and Bruce is still just as shaken as he was in the tent. He can’t imagine how Dick Grayson must be faring right now, so soon after watching his own parents die. And in such a horrific manner, no less. The last glimpse Dick had of his parents was their contorted bodies lying on the ground, their necks bent and eyes staring emptily, endlessly, lifelessly. Bruce shudders just thinking about it.

“Why are you so hung up on this?” Alfred asks, swiping a crumb from the tablecloth. “What makes this boy so special to you?”

Bruce has been asking himself the same question. There were hundreds of people at Haly’s that day. Why Bruce? Why should the responsibility of saving this boy fall to him, a stranger who happened to get unwanted circus tickets from his secretary?

“I saw something in his eyes that day, Alfred. I recognized it. I felt it. It was like I was watching my own parents’ deaths all over again.”

Alfred presses his lips together grimly. “I had a feeling you would say that. I can’t say that I didn’t feel it as well.”

“I know exactly what Dick is going through. I have been in his shoes, felt the exact same pain that he’s feeling right now, only I didn’t have to handle it alone. You were there to guide me through it, show me that life was still worth living. Dick...he doesn’t have that. And no amount of child psychologists and social workers will change the fact that he’s completely alone.”

Alfred sighs. He places the stack of plates he was collecting back on the table and puts a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “The world is so dreadfully unfair when it comes to the innocent, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

That afternoon, Bruce sets himself on a mission. He gathers his checkbooks and researches what happened to Dick Grayson after that night. Some donations to children’s centers is a start, just to take the edge off, but Bruce needs to go deeper. Provide help right at the source, funnel every cent he has to spare into whatever orphanage or children’s center Dick was sent to in the hope that it will be enough to get Dick the help he needs, along with as many other kids as possible. And maybe a trust fund for Dick too, just in case. It’s unlikely that a pair of circus performers was able to salvage enough savings for a college fund.

Less than an hour later, Bruce storms into the pantry where Alfred is organizing the week’s groceries. He slams his phone against a shelf. “Juvie. They sent him to juvie, Alfred.” It’s difficult just getting the words out past the outrage clogging his throat and making his fists shake.

Some bullshit regarding an issue with the Graysons’ wills, the files said. No one at the circus was able to take Dick in, so he was left to the state, which was already packed to bursting with hundreds of other Gotham orphans whose parents were either killed in any number of crime-related accidents or simply dropped their child off when they couldn’t afford to care for them any longer.

So, with nowhere else to put him, it was decided that the Gotham Juvenile Detention Center was the most convenient place to shove their newest problem. Unbelievable. Inexcusable.

Something needs to be done.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The next day, Bruce starts filling out the paperwork to become a foster parent.

It’s a mostly straightforward process—do you have a valid driver’s license, what is your social security number, have you ever molested a child before or plan to do so if we give you one—you know, the usual questions.

“Alfred, do we use propane in our appliances?”

“Alfred, are their child locks on our windows?”

“Alfred, have you ever been convicted of a felony?”

“Which felony were you convicted of and why was I not made aware of it until now?”

“You’re being unusually quiet right now.”

“Alfred.”

Twenty-four hours and so many phone calls later that Bruce wants to burrow into his mattress and sleep for the next two hundred years...it’s official. Bruce Thomas Wayne is a foster father in the state of New Jersey. The application process is traditionally a far longer one, but anything can be sped up if you’re a billionaire, and Dick has been in that horrible detention center long enough.

“Are you certain about this?” Alfred asks for the thirtieth time since Bruce first began the paperwork.

Bruce has his phone in his hand, already punching in the number for the social worker who will be releasing Dick into Bruce’s custody. It will take a while to work out the details, and a judge will have to give the final okay, but hopefully Dick will be out of juvie and into a proper home by the end of the week.

“Taking care of a child is a big commitment. Are you sure you are up to the task?”

Bruce presses the talk button and holds the phone to his ear. “How hard can it be?”

Read the rest on AO3!

[fandom-thingies]

Worth a Try

Eret sits alone on the day L’manburg is reclaimed.

Not that they didn’t help with taking it back- of course they did, right? They have a lot to atone for, and they’d been waiting, waiting, waiting for an opportunity to take back a few of their sins.

So they did help take it back, stood atop a tower firing down at Dream and his allies, watched Schlatt’s infamously poor health come back to bite him in the most final way…

But they don’t stick around long, after that. They don’t stay for the presidential game of hot potato, the founders of the nation passing its ownership back and forth. 

They would have, normally, but.

Eret has worked with Dream, in the past. Everyone loves to remind them of it, and they often do so themselves, but something oft forgotten is that Eret knows Dream, knows the obsession he has with ending L’manburg, knows the methods he’s most fond of, that game of pawns and traitors he excels at so notoriously.

And Eret knows Dream gave Wilbur 11 stacks of TNT.

Now, supposedly it’s all gone. Various people have looked around and none have been able to find a trace of it, but Eret knows Wilbur, knows the message he wants to send, and before the battle, they checked somewhere no one else did.

Not many people know the podium is hollow, so not many people noticed when it stopped echoing if you hit it and started making a dull thud sound instead.

Eret notices a lot of things.

While Wilbur is taking his place on stage, Eret goes around the hill, digging toward the podium they’ve guessed to be filled full with TNT.

It takes them a while, but when they find it…

There’s so much.

The smell of sulfur is overwhelming, and they take a moment to pull their shirt over their nose before they begin to dig it out.

They don’t get it all, they don’t have time, but they find the blackstone room and the redstone that runs from it and they make dead sure all the explosives near it are broken.

Then, they dig into the room, because why not? Sue them, they’re curious.

What they find is… exactly what they expected and nothing they could have imagined, at the same time.

It’s unassuming, at a glance. Dingy, poorly lit, small.

It’s also a terrifying representation of Wilbur’s mental state, with the anthem scribbled on the wall in the messiest handwriting they’ve ever seen from the former president, who’s usually so neat and tidy.

There’s no button, which is odd. Perhaps he means to place it himself?

(Eret has no illusions he’s changed his mind. As they said, they’ve worked with Dream before. If he hasn’t extracted some promise from Wilbur to blow it all sky high no matter what, they’ll steal their crown from George and eat it.)

They stand for a moment, just taking in the place, before they hear blocks breaking from the passageway out and realize just how close they’ve cut it.

Hurriedly, they block up the hole they’d used to enter, hoping Wilbur won’t realize they’ve destroyed the TNT.

(Hoping he’s too distracted by his own thoughts to hear them close it)

Only moments after the hole is shut, he comes into view, breaking the dirt blocks that hide this chamber from sight. 

The day outside is far brighter than the hidden room, and the contrast makes it so all Eret can see of Wilbur is a dark silhouette haloed by the clear blue sky.

He doesn’t seem to see them at first, coming almost halfway down the passage before he stops, noticing their presence.

“Eret.” His voice is as calm as it always is, when he says it, but they can tell he’s surprised.

“Wilbur.” They greet in response.

“I didn’t expect to find you here. Come to blow it up yourself?” Eret sighs. The hostility in his voice is... not undeserved.

“Not quite.”

“Still trying for your redemption arc, then?” There’s venom in his tone.

“...as much as I can, yes.”

Wilbur deflates, and it seems like the anger in him has fled as quickly as it entered.

“Why are you doing this, Eret?”

The answer to that is… complicated. There are a lot of reasons. They don’t want L’manburg blown up, for one. It’s suffered rather enough, especially with some of Schlatt’s alterations. They also don’t see a better way to try and make up for what they’ve done than stopping someone else from doing the same, but neither of those are really why. The real reason, the truth of why they’ve spent days knocking on hollow objects and digging random holes in the ground until they finally found the bombs?

“I know better than anyone how much doing this will destroy you.” They say.

And that’s the truth of it, isn’t it? The unvarnished fact of the matter is there’s no moral motivation here, as much as they’d like to pretend. They just don’t want anyone else to feel the guilt they’ve felt, and maybe there’s a selfishness in that, but maybe it’s important, to acknowledge your mistakes and do what you can to stop others from making them.

Wilbur laughs, and there’s no humor in it.

“Of course that would be your reasoning,” and the anger in his voice is back, and Eret is preparing to respond, and Wilbur gives them no chance to before he continues. 

“Maybe I’m already destroyed, huh? Maybe I’ve already seen too much of what the world can offer to recover from it!” He swings a hand out wide, indicating the writing on the wall in an aggressive motion that makes Eret shrink back.

“I wrote a whole fucking song for this place, Eret! You were there, you know I did, you were in both versions of the damn thing, and what the fuck is left?” Wilbur inhales, before continuing in a softer tone, “What the fuck is left of it, Eret? I built L’manburg to be special, to be free from tyranny, and look what’s it’s become.”

“Schlatt’s dead, though. He can’t stop you from building it back up.” They counter, but Wilbur doesn’t falter.

“Yeah, and? We violently deposed him, Eret. He had a heart attack sure, but this was a coup through and through. We killed the rightful president of L’manburg. We’ve made ourselves just as bad as him!” 

...no?

No, they’re pretty sure that’s not how that works.

“Isn’t it the right of the people to rebel against rulers who treat them poorly? Schlatt had terrible policies, exiled his political opponents, taxed his citizens into starvation, and destroyed historic monuments,” they adjust their glasses slightly. “Didn’t he kind of have it coming?”

Wilbur stops. Blinks.

Eret suspects he’s never thought of it that way, before.

“But we still killed him. That’s still wrong.” He says, but he sounds... uncertain, now. Off balance.

“Well, we would have. He died before we could.”

“That doesn’t change the intent.”

“Fair enough.”

Eret pauses to collect their thoughts in an orderly manner.

“I still don’t really think it would have been wrong, though. Not any more than it would have been wrong if you’d killed me.”

Wilbur snorts, and says, “Just because you’re drowning in self loathing doesn’t mean you get to snap me out of my self destructive spiral. I’ve been doing just fine with it on my own, thanks.”

Sure he has.

They know terrible coping mechanisms when they see them, is all Eret is saying here.

He must see something of their thoughts in their face, because he continues almost immediately.

“You haven’t got any right to talk, anyway, mr. ‘it was never meant to be’.”

Ah. Hm. He’s got a point there.

Though, their own experience with this is what prompted them to confront him in the first place, so.

“I was wrong, when I said that. I was wrong, and you proved me wrong.”

They mean it, too. They’d been blind when they’d said those words, trying to justify what they were doing to themself by saying the revolution would never have succeeded anyway, and they’d been so fucking stupid.

Wilbur just laughs, though. He laughs for a while.

“You really don’t get it, do you, Eret? You were right, then! You were fucking right! None of this was ever going to work, not with Dream against us! He was always going to find a way to throw a wrench in the gears, and maybe Schlatt got to it first, but there’s no happy ending for this place!” He steps forward, and they realize how close he is to them. “There’s no way out, here! I’m going to press the button, Technoblade is going to summon withers because he’s the goddamn traitor, and Dream’s just going to sit back and watch and be just as untouchable as he always is.”

Wilbur takes another step closer to them, laying a hand on their shoulder, and though he’s only barely taller than them, those two inches feel like two miles, with the way he looms.

“I’ve been to this room, over and over again! Seven or eight times, I’ve been here, staring at this fucking wall and the fucking button, and I-!” He runs his free hand roughly over his face, and Eret sees something suspiciously like tears in his eyes.

“I can’t do this, Eret. I’ve given so much for this country, everyone has, and there’s just nothing left. I’m so tired, Eret. I’ve lost so much of myself to this.”

Eret raises their hand slowly, telegraphing the motions so Wilbur can pull back if he wants, and puts it over the one he’s placed on their shoulder.

They take a step and they’re basically touching him, and carefully, carefully, they reach their other arm around him until they’re embracing.

It’s not quite a hug, really. The position is a bit too awkward, especially with both of them barely fitting in the tiny room, but it’s close.

Wilbur stays tense, but he doesn’t push them away, doesn’t tell them to let go.

They hope it helps him, hope they’re right and he needs as much as it seems, and the evidence doesn’t seem to contradict that hypothesis.

It’s good, that this has worked. Good that they were able to convince him, to make him realize this isn’t the answer.

Click.

A moment of silence.

Wilbur laughs, a real laugh, not a pale imitation fed by anger and self loathing, and keeps laughing for nearly a full minute before he regains his composure.

“Oh, Eret,  you bastard.” He says, and they can hear the smile in his voice. “You broke the redstone, you glorious motherfucker.”

It’s then that Eret realizes what just happened.

Wilbur had used the hug as a cover to place a button on the wall and press it, not realizing all the TNT near the room was safely in their inventory.

That fucking prick.

Eret laughs then, too, fueled half by the sheer fear of realizing Wilbur actually did it, actually pressed the button, and it was only their having broken it that stopped L’manburg being blown up again, but the laugh is also coming from the desperate, desperate relief they feel because even if they didn’t succeed in convincing him, even if they didn’t change his mind, they still stopped him from making their mistake.

“Why even try to talk me out of it, if you already made it so I couldn’t?” He asks, bemused.

“I can’t exactly stop you from getting more TNT and trying again, can I?”

Wilbur tenses against them, before they continue.

“Please don’t, Wilbur. I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish with it, but… give yourself a chance to heal, please. Schlatt is dead, and even if you’re right, and Technoblade is the traitor, no one is going to let him destroy this. Even if he breaks every block of this nation, we’ll put it back, because this place has never been the builds, or the podium, or the walls,”

“L’manburg is the people, and we’re not going anywhere,”

[c-is-for-circinate]

So, a non-abuse related Hades ask: Which weapon is most fun for you to play?

Oh yay! Fun asks.  (I swear I have more fun things to talk about with this game too, I do, and I will, there are just too many thoughts and they need to go somewhere so y’all are getting them as we go along.)

My favorite weapons have changed several times over the course of the game, and I think it depends a lot on what boons are at play?  At lower levels, I really enjoy the sword: it is just so swingy and button-mashy and you wreck shit and the special does a small AOE, and you don’t have to hold things down for exactly the right amount of time while aiming properly without getting hit, like some weapons I could mention.  I can wreck shop in Tartarus with the sword, and it’s basically the only weapon I’ll run with the Lambent Plume.  It also works pretty well for me with a couple of specific boons--sword + faster special + Divine Flourish (which lets your special deflect) gave me my best showing against the stupid awful witches’ circle in Asphodel ever.  I haven’t gotten Aspect of Poseidon on it yet, but it’s worth a shot.

The spear and the fists are both a lot of fun with the right boons, now that I’ve got Aspects on them.  I had a really rough time with the spear before I put on Aspect of Achilles, but now I can use it to jump around the battlefield super-fast, and if I’ve got a good damage-dealing dash it can be pretty sweet.  The fists just punch real good, which tbh is just really satisfying.  The fists have to be used so close though, and the spear, again, requires some aiming/doesn’t have a lot of spread aside from its dash-strike, so until I get some good boons on them--or if I don’t get the right boons, like a Daedalus upgrade that’ll give me some area damage, or a good cast with the fists so I get some ranged options--they can be a little tricky.  I’ve made it past Theseus and the Minotaur a couple of times with the fists, although I definitely lay some of that on the recently-applied God Mode, and I haven’t gotten them with the spear yet (but close).

I think the shield might actually be my favorite, though, especially now at higher levels.  It does all of the things listed above and then some.  It does super-satisfying bashy bludgeony up-close damage when I just want to hit a thing!  It has a really fun multi-target ranged option, especially with Aspect of Chaos enabled.  (Also, LOVE putting boons on that special.  Doom? Hangover?  Chain lightning?  FUCK yes.)  It has a feature that lets me move quickly around the field while doing damage, which takes a sec to charge but is easier to aim than the spear.  And it blocks incoming attacks.

I beat Theseus and the Minotaur twice with that Shield.  I faced Hades and took down his first stage of the battle on my first try with that Shield.  Favorite grandparent Chaos sometimes comments on my battle performance when I fight with that Shield.  The first time I made it out of Elysium, Meg had just said something to Thanatos in the lounge about how I knew I wasn’t welcome in my father’s house any more, and I got so mad I just grabbed my shield and bashed and battered my way straight past Theseus in like forty minutes of solid fighting.

(Bow and railgun need not apply, they are the WORST, you have to control an entire battlefield to aim at enemies at range without letting completely different enemies come up on you, and there are always fifty million obstacles between you and your targets, and their aspects are BARELY helpful with any of that, and also I hate them.  There are Daedalus upgrades that make them useable, more or less--the ones that increase the number of grenades at once are pretty decent, especially when you need to fight Tisiphone and just carpet-bomb the entire room--but I hate them and the fact that I will someday need to get past fucking Theseus with those assholes is just annoying.  Ranged combat is for people who adventure with other party members, so the barbarian can play meat shield while you’re raining down destruction from afar, goddamnit, and I will die on that hill.  Probably from getting stabbed in the back by another fucking chariot while I’m trying to reload my damn gun.)

[the-fiction-witch]

IVY P6 Cosy

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY X READER RATING: SWEET AF!

I had grown rather used to having my little audience. Y/n came over almost everyday for at least an hour just to sit and watch me play chess making all her little notes and working on ivy as she slowly brought her equipment over every time she visited so I know had half a computer in my living room. But today honestly I wasn't expecting her there was a horrible storm over new york.

The subway has been down for days, no taxis working, barely a car could get thought, my poor little beatle is burried under the snow, my apartment as cold as ice as the heating was now working but not working all that well, at least I had hot water now, the windows blocked completely by snow and where one slightly leaks it has frozen shut with icicles on the inside as the water leaking in had frozen on the way in, I could hear the wind rushing through, the news reports I was getting on my tiny tv weren't good so I turned it off trying not to think about the cold.

I had two pairs of socks on, fluffy socks. My jeans on with a blanket over my legs, my black t shirt, then my black turtleneck shirt, then my green button down then my jacket and I still had to wrap a blanket around my shoulders to stop me shivering. I jumped as I heard the phone I begrudgingly got up from my chair and went to answer it trying not to loose a blanket on the way I picked it up trying not to shiver in my voice

"Hello?"

"Hi Benny" I heard her familiar voice but she had called me before from her dorm but it sounded different

"Hey y/n, what's up?"

"Quick question do you have heating?"

"Well yes. It's not very good but yes. Why?"

"Uhhh could you maybe put it on full. And also put the kettle on"

".... Ohh my god you crazy girl are you actually coming?'

"Yes"

"I thought we'd work from your from today on the phones and all"

"I was going too but most everyone else has gone home for the holidays and the dorms are so so cold."

"Where are you?"

"Uhh the payphone about a block down the street from yours"

"You're walking! Y/n you must be frozen half to death get off the phone get here as quick as you can I'll get the kettle on" I told her quickly hanging up I didn't want her on the phone any longer then she had to be I got up going to the kitchen to put the kettle on hell I'll have a hot drink as I'n turning it on and soon enough I heard fast shaking little taps, I rushed over and quickly pulled the door open having to fight against the ice around it but I got it open and she stood there on my doorstep covered in an inch of snow shivering in her usual purple coat "oohh get in here you silly girl you'll freeze" I laughed quickly letting her in and shutting the door behind us to keep the cold out

"Benny I can't feel my toes"

"I imagine you can't. Those boots don't look like snow boots?"

"There not I didn't have snow boots so I just put my thermal boots and some extra socks"

"Here let me get your coat off" I smiled helping her with her coat knocking all the snow off her revealing how cute she looked she had a little purple hat under her hood, and a long purple scarf wrapped around her about four times and had a long knee length knitted purple dress with pockets, she had little black mittens and what looked like four or five layers of thermal tights and these little boots I helped her get her boots off as somehow she had gotten snow inside her boots and she had three pairs of socks on top of her tights she slipped her mittens off and her scarf sitting them with her coat

"May I steal a blanket?" She asks noticing I had two

"You may" I laughed giving her one of my blankets

"You wanna mini hot water bottle?" She smiled pulling a pocket sized hot water bottle out of her pocket I took it curiously and it was hot I held it close feeling how warm it was

"Uuummm I will sell you my car for this tiny hand sized hot water bottle"

"It's okay Benny you can borrow it while I'm borrowing your blanket" she smiled we went over to the sofa having a sit together trying not to be too far apart as we where both warm, I feched her a tea and a I had my usual coffee "clink" she giggled tapping my mug with her own

"Clink" I laughed "fuck it's cold. Sorry I made you walk all this way"

"It's okay I wanted to come"

"I'm really not in the mood for chess today. Which sounds nuts but I'm just way too cold. Sorry for making you walk all this way for nothing"

"Not nothing, I got to see you" she smiled "and steal your blanket"

"I guess so. Guess it's kinda nice to have someone to wait out the storm with"

"Yeah someone to wait the storm out with" she smiled "why don't you get the duvet?"

"The duvet!" I jumped dashing to my bedroom and getting my duvet we both readjusted our blankets and then I threw the duvet over us both I smiled looking at her wrapped up so well against the sofa with the blanket around her shoulders and my duvet tucked up to her sipping the tea that she held so close "I like your scarf. And your little hat"

"Aww thank you" she blushed "I knitted them myself"

"You did? that's impressive. Can you make me a scarf?"

"Yeah, actually. I did bring my stuff with me" she laughed grabbing her bag getting some large needles "I have… black and white wool?"

"Can you make me a chess scarf?"

"Uhhh I don't see why not" she smiled sitting her tea on the side

"I'm going to get a book, want anything as I'm leaving the warm corner?"

"No thanks benny, Im cosy" she smiled

"Alright" I smiled back giving her temple a little kiss before leaving the duvet I already hated it I'm so cold out here, I grabbed a book or three before I remembered I jumped in my wardrobe and I saw it "ohh my god! I forgot about you!"

"About what?" Y/n giggled

"My long hot water bottle" I laughed showing her the thing i bought it years ago before going to Moscow on the assumption moscow would be cold and I ended up leaving it here it took a while to fill up as it was almost a meter long but I did it up and put the fluffy cover over it and came back beside her getting under the duvet and in the blankets laying the bottle across both our laps between the duvet and us I smiled as I sat getting cosy watching her slowly knit

"Why was your dorm so cold?' I asked her

"Most of them have gone home for the holidays, cheap place only keeps the heat on if more then two people are there and it was just me" she says "I tried to get on the bus to come see you but I had to walk"

"Why didn't you go home? For the holidays?"

"Not really much if a home to go to?"

"What do you mean?"

"My mother died in childbirth. My dad looked after me alone for most of my life. He passed away a few years ago now." She explained

"Ohh y/n. I'm so sorry, his did he die?"

She smiled slightly "he was working at nasa. In the space race and all, he was an engineer so they sent him onna test flight but… they never came back" she explained

"Must have been an amazingly smart man. I see where you get it from"

"Thank you, what about you? Why aren't you flying off somewhere to see your family?"

"Don't really have a family. Never really did. My dad died before I was even born, my mum like yours died in childbirth so my uncle took care of me he was a single guy no kids or anything but he had a heart attack when I was ten, been on my own since"

"I'm so sorry Benny"

"Its okay. Life goes on you know. Of course I miss them but… me sitting here bawling isn't gonna bring them back, lifes going to go on weather I sit here crying or weather I get on with it. So I better just get on with it"

"Yeah I see what you mean" she says "how about we play a game" she smiled

"Sure" I laughed

"Truth or dare"

"Damn it okay truth"

"Do you really love chess?'

"Not as much as I did once. I do really love chess but there is bullshit too it, the traveling sucks, there's alot of snobbery around it, I think I adored it once but… I still love it just not as much as I did" I explain "truth or dare?"

"Truth"

"... Do you really think ivy will work?'

"I'm sure of it. I know it. More then anything else in this world" she smiled "your turn"

"Okay truth again"

"What's the last thing you cried at?"

"Cried? Uhhh ohh god ugh lord of the rings"

"What?'

'the ending makes me cry okay"

"Awww that's so sweet. Yeah I cried when I read it too"

"I think everyone does. If you don't cry your kinda a dick" I laughed "your turn"

"Uhhh dare"

"Oooohhh uuuuuuughhh…. I dare you to," I began before I spotted an empty note pad so I grabbed the page and crumpled it up "eat a page"

"Why?"

"Because I dared you"

"Fine" she sighed taking it ripping it up small and slowly swallowing it "oww. That was mean"

"To be fair I really didn't have a dare set. Uuhh and I pick truth"

"You have to pick dare at some point Benny"

'ill pick dare next turn"

"Fine." She smiled "... Did you love beth?"

"What? How do you know about me and beth?"

"It's not a secret. I read about it in chess review"

"No. Honestly I don't know how I feel about beth. I don't think I love her. She's ignoring me at the moment anyway, I don't know. No. I think. I care about her but I get the feeling she doesn't care about me all that much"

"You shouldn't be with someone who doesn't care about you benny. Your better then that your worth so much more then that. You deserve a girl who adores you."

"Aww thanks y/n" I smiled "your turn"

".. truth"

"Do you…. Have a crush on someone?"

"What is this Benny a girl's sleepover?'

'come on I'm curious?"

"No"

"No you don't or no you don't wanna answer the question?"

"The second one"

"If you don't wanna answer it means you do"

"I never said that"

"Who is he? Some boy in your science class? Some cute boy who lives in your dorm?"

"No" she giggled "your turn"

"No you never answered my question"

"I do but I'm not telling you"

"Why not?" I laughed but I saw how red she was "y/n… do you"

"It's not your turn to ask questions Benny" she says hurrying her head in her knitting

"Fine. Dare"

"I dare you. To… not ask anymore questions"

"Why not?"

"That's a question"

"No, that's not how the game works. A proper dare"

"Fine I dare you go up there an stick your dick in the snow"

"Ahhhhh nooooo I don't wanna do that"

"I didn't wanna eat paper"

"NOOOO"

"Go or no questions"

"Fine" I sighed getting up already too cold without the duvet around me maybe I can just go up and climb I did it but she put her knitting down and got up too wrapping her scarf around her and getting her gloves and hat on as well as her coat keeping her hood down this time as she slipped on her boots I put some shoes on and begrudgingly unlocked my door the snow was now building up badly down my stairs so much it was up to my knees each time I took a step y/n using my holes in the snow to walk through till we got to the street it really was a blizzard I could barely see anything, my car burried the lights not even working on that streets

"Go on" she says

"No looking" I warn her undoing my jeans she looked away already turning red my whole brain screaming at me every self preservation element in my brain going nuts why am I getting my dick out in a Blizzard! I did it and by God I had never been colder in my life I of course screamed making her giggle like crazy I quickly did my jeans up in an attempted to get warm again shw tried to run inside from the cold but I grabbed her "ohh no you don't if I had to go in the snow your going in too!" I told her pushing her in the snow

"Ahhhhh!! Benny" she squealed "this. Means. War" she glared grabbing some snow and throwing it at me luckily she missed

"Ha you-" I began but she got another and got me right in the face before I even finished "fine. You wanna play this game. Fine let's play"

"No no no! You can't hit a girl Benny" she giggled

"Ohh no you threw first that rule Is irrelevant" I told her grabbing some snow and throwing it at her and it managed to get her just as she was getting up right on the butt

"AAAHHH! Benny! That went up my dress!" She screamed before she ran at me with a handful of snow and shoved it down the back of my jeans

"Ahhhhh! Y/n!" I complained grabbing as much as I could and filling her hood with it throwing it over her

"Ahhhhh!" She screamed pushing me into the snow so I pulled her down with me and we ended up with her on top of me on the snow "hi"

"Hi, you wanna go back in before we freeze to death?"

"Yes please" she nods happily getting up and helping me up out the snow too we hurried down and locked the apartment up hangout stuff by the door and getting cosy back on the sofa trying to warm up again

"So… I did my dare."

"Yep"

"So, it's your turn"

"Truth" she rolled her eyes as she began to knit again

"Do you have a crush…. On me?"

"Maybe"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe" she blushed

"No come on yes or no answer?"

"Yes" she blushed "I just… I saw you in the tournament a few years back and I just, I kinda did and when we met I couldn't help it"

"That's really sweet" I smiled giving her head a kiss "uhh y/n"

"Yes Benny?"

"The snows got no sign of stopping and I really don't want you walking back to your freezing cold dorm"

"What are you saying?'

"I'm saying. I think you should stay here tonight. Are how the snow looks in the morning."

"Where will I sleep?"

" I'll make the airbed up for you if you want, or… you can come cosy in my bed with me so we keep warm"

"I'd like that Benny" she smiled shuffling closer and resting her head in my chest I smiled wrapping an arm around her

"Y/n?"

"Yes Benny?"

"... I kinda had a crush on you too"