#looking...... maybe ill watch the boss fight

[spearxwind]

@sketchshitposts submitted: I don't think you get a lot of attention/news for splatoon, given your interests

However, i offer eels from Frye's boss fight

OUGH HELLO??? CERTIFIED EEL MOMENT.............

[dark-fics-4-you]

Keeping the Peace

credit to @jadiwrites for helping write the blowjob scene

dark!Peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader with a side of dark!Sejanus Plinth (only one scene for Sejanus)

Warnings: smut, noncon (dead dove do not eat), forced sex, forced oral (m!recieving), reader is held up at gunpoint, unprotected sex, degradation, slight spit kink, kidnapping, violence, misogyny, free use themes, abuse of power, power imbalance

The sky over district 12 was cloudy and grey the first time you ever took notice of Coriolanus Snow.

Growing up in the aftermath of the districts’ rebellion meant that you had barely known a life that wasn’t ruled by Peacekeeping grunts. Your memories before then were murky, you could remember a difficult life without many pleasures or much to eat, followed by periods of war, when food was even harder to come by.

You could remember countless faceless Peacekeepers blurring together, all of them looked the same to you. Just a bunch of capitol brutes who struck fear into the heart and souls of everyone in your district, yourself included. You had learned at a young age to never talk to, or talk back to, a Peacekeeper.

Even making eye contact with a Peacekeeper was never a good idea, any facial expression that implied dissent could be punished. After all, who would question the word of a Peacekeeper over some district scum, as they often liked to call you.

However, as you made your way across the market, trading some leather for food and purchasing several jugs of water and any medicine you could, you couldn’t shake the burning feeling that you were being watched, maybe even followed.

You glanced around the crowded market, trying to catch the eye of whoever might be watching you, but you couldn’t figure it out. You had convinced yourself that you had to be paranoid, that you were just working yourself up over nothing, when you finally spotted him.

He was standing several yards away from you, and despite the many people in the busy market, his cold, blue eyes were trained on you. This Peacekeeper seemed on edge, like he was hoping for a fight to break out just so he could break it apart.

You felt a shiver pass through your body, averting your eyes immediately to avoid any suspicions from falling on to you.

It had to be a coincidence, you catching him staring at you once didn’t mean anything really, but something about the look in his eyes made you feel profoundly anxious for reasons you couldn’t identify.

You spent the entire walk to your house glancing over your shoulder to make sure you weren’t being followed, and when you finally got to your house and closed the door behind you, even the safe walls of your home couldn’t calm your nerves for hours.

The second time that you took notice of Coriolanus Snow was a week after the incident in the market, but this time he got much closer to you.

You had been on a nighttime walk in the woods, trying to clear your head after the stressful shift you had just worked at the bar.

Your boss had yelled at your several times, threatening to cut your already measly pay if you messed up another order, but it wasn’t your fault that all the men who came into the bar harassed you so much that you could hardly remember if a certain order of beers went to the table where the red-faced pigs called you a whore or to the table of rowdy men that kept smacking your ass every time you walked by.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t quit. You and your family were barely surviving as it was, your mother too ill to work and your brother was too young.

You were so consumed in thought that you didn’t hear the rustling of the branches nearby.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be out here this late, young lady.”

You spun around, fear shooting through your body when you came face to face with a familiar pair of blue eyes.

The peacekeeper towered over you, and your heart skipped a beat when he took a step closer. His helmet was gone now, allowing you a glimpse at his blond buzz cut.

“Don’t you know there’s a curfew right now? You could get into serious trouble if I reported you to my superiors.” The man’s voice was low and threatening, his eyes sharp and determined.

“I’m sorry,” you replied quietly, trying to make yourself sound as non-argumentative as possible. Fear was pulsing through your veins. You had heard about the kind of things Peacekeepers would do to the districters that pissed them off, and you were terrified of something bad happening to you when you knew no one else could take care of your family.

“I just wanted to take a walk. I’m not doing anything wrong.”

He took a step closer and your fear rooted you in place. Coriolanus studied you for a moment, his lips twitching into a scowl.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, sir.” Your heart was hammering in your chest. “Am I in trouble?”

“Depends, Y/N. Turn around and put your hands on that tree.”

“What?” Your eyes widened before nervously glancing around. You were still a 10 minute walk from the town, and 15 from your house. An area this remote was not one anyone would be visiting for hours. There was no one else around this late at night, and the cool breeze now gave you chills.

“Did I stutter?” He took another step towards you, crowding your space, and you backed away from him in fear. You didn’t miss the way that his hand came to rest on the pistol at his hip. “I said, turn around and lean against that tree, I need to search you for counterfeit goods.”

You had been searched by Peacekeepers before, but this was different. Before, it had always occurred in the market or the main square, but now you found yourself all alone in the dark, completely at the mercy of this stranger who held absolute power and authority above you.

You took a breath to calm yourself, trying to tell yourself that you were fine. That he was just going to search you and then let you leave. You turned your back to him and placed your hands on the large tree in front of you.

When he moved closer to you, chest practically pressing to your back before he had begun to search you, you took in a sharp breath. Why was he so close to you? Had the Peacekeepers always conducted their searches like this?

His large hands came to your waist, patting around the fabric of your clothes, circling your waist before returning to your sides. They trailed lower, grabbing at the cloth of your skirt before passing over your hips. His hands ghosted over your ass for just a moment before moving to your legs. It was so quick you weren’t even sure if it had actually happened or if you imagined it.

When he was satisfied with checking your lower body, his hands returned to your waist, climbing up the sides of your ribcage.

You yelped in surprise when you felt his large hands cover your chest, roughly squeezing your tits as he held his body close to you. This time, you felt no doubt at all about whether he knew he was doing. You couldn’t move, terrified of what he might do if you tried to break away from him.

You skin crawled when his lips pressed to your neck, smooth voice whispering into your ear, “just need to be thorough.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose, giving your breasts one final pinch before pushing you against the tree and stepping back.

You spun around to look at him, back pressed to the rough bark and eyes fearful.

He looked amused as he stared down his nose at you and you were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again.

“Don’t let me catch you breaking curfew again, Miss Y/L/N.” His voice was cold and hard. “Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide to write you up.”

You shuddered at what it might mean if he caught you again, but you didn’t have time to think about it, because when he stepped aside to let you past him, you ran the entire way home, bolting all of the doors when you got there.

You came to learn through passing that his name was Coriolanus Snow. Several of your friends had experienced run ins with him before, but nothing like what had happened to you.

After the night that he searched you in the woods, you started to notice him everywhere. He must have figured out your daily and weekly schedule, because even though you had started to try avoiding him, he was always at the market when you went shopping and you found that he had been stationed outside of the bar you worked at every night you were on the schedule.

You grew to expect the feeling of his eyes following you everywhere, although that didn’t mean it unnerved you any less.

One night, completely exhausted from your shift, you exited the bar in a hurry, forgetting to do your usual sweep to scan for Coriolanus lurking around.

Wanting to take the shortest route possible, you opted to head through the dimly lit alleyway behind the bar.

“Get any good tips tonight, Y/N?” The voice from behind washed over you like a bucket of cold water.

You turned to see Coriolanus leering above you, blocking the way you had came, a triumphant smirk plastered on his face. The sounds of the bar were muffled but still loud and raucous, although the only thing you could hear was your heart beating quickly in your chest.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice, “No, not really.”

“Mm, tough night?” He asked, voice lighter now, but it didn’t do anything to make you feel better.

“Every night is here,” you responded, nodding your head to the bar behind you.

“I bet,” the taller man answered, inching closer to you as he did. “Why don’t you pull out your wallet, sweetheart?” Although it was phrased more like a statement than a question.

“My wallet?” You repeated nervously, reaching for your purse slowly.

He grinned as he snatched the bag from your hands and started to rifle through it. “I mean, you said you didn’t make any good tips tonight, so I figured you wouldn’t miss ‘em.”

“But I need that money!” You huffed with frustration. “My Ma’s sick! She needs medicine all the time.”

Coriolanus chucked darkly, starting to grow annoyed, “You think I give a fuck about whether your Ma lives or dies?” He grabbed the handful of cash that you had been saving up for weeks and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Hmm, seems like a lot of money, Y/N. I wonder how a simple waitress could have made so much?”

“That’s my money I’ve been saving! I told you, it’s for my Ma, I’m just trying to get her better treatments, please!” You pleaded with him, tears beginning to form at your waterline.

He just shook his head, tsk-ing like he was disappointed in you. “First you broke curfew, and now this, Y/N? You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight. I’m taking this money and letting you off with another warning. Unless of course, you wanna give me a reason to search you again.”

Coriolanus towered above you, drinking you in with amused eyes and enjoying the frustration written all over your face, “How does that sound?”

You bit your tongue, rage boiling inside you, “fine,” you answered through gritted teeth.

He threw your now empty purse at you, before moving to let you pass. As you walked by him, however, his hand shot out to roughly slap your ass, and you could still hear his chuckles echoing off the walls as you ran out of the alley with tear stained eyes.

Two days after that incident, you returned home from a double shift at the bar to madness. You needed to make up for the money that Coriolanus had taken from you somehow, and now you were working yourself to the bone to try to cover for the unexpected loss.

You were shocked to find the place swarming with Peacekeepers who were tearing your home apart. You entered slowly, not wanting any trouble from them, but needing to check on your ma and little brother.

“What’s going on?” You demanded of one of the Peacekeepers, but you got no answers.

Well, not until an all too familiar face emerged from your room with something clutched in his hand. His piercing blue eyes found you immediately, but his face remained hardened. Your mouth dropped in surprise when you realized what he was holding.

“This room is clear,” he announced loudly, not breaking his eye contact as you watched him stuff a pair of your panties into his pocket.

A horrible chill passed through your body and you felt like you could be sick. Why of all people was he choosing to target you? What had you ever done to him to warrant any of this?

Your brother began to cry when they entered his room, and you hugged him tight, brushing your fingers through his hair and quietly singing a lullaby to calm him. You nervously glanced at your mother, who was seated in the kitchen with you.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

Your head snapped to Coriolanus, who gestured for you to come over to him. You pressed a kiss to your brother’s head before standing and crossing over to him, making sure you kept your distance.

“What do you want, Coriolanus?” You hissed quietly, trying not to draw the attention of the other Peacekeepers.

“Got some reports of possible rebel activity taking place here. We have to check out any tips we get.” His cool response made you want to scream. You knew that he was lying through his teeth, the only people who even came to your home were you, your brother, and your Ma.

“You and I both know that’s not true!” You hopelessly pleaded with him. “Please, can’t you leave my family alone? It’s hard enough for them as is.”

He chuckled at your desperation, clearly pleased with the panicked response he was receiving, before barking at the men in your brother’s room to get out.

When he pushed you into the doorway of your brother’s room, your ma and brother cried out in protest, but Coriolanus yelled at them to shut the fuck up before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Maybe you didn’t learn your lesson the first two times. And since the other Peacekeepers haven’t gotten the chance, I think I should search you myself.” He pushed you up against the wall that you were facing, roughly pressing your cheek to it while the hand at the back of your neck clenched down.

This time he didn’t even pretend to properly search you, the hand at your neck immediately clamping over your mouth to muffle your protests, while the other groped your chest, plucking at your tits while you struggled in his grasp. He slid his hand under your shirt and bra this time, sighing into your ear when he finally squeezed the soft, tender skin of your breast.

“You’re so beautiful, y’know that, Y/N?” He whispered, and you wanted to be sick at the feeling of his fingers tweaking your hardening nipple. “With a little make up and some better clothes, you’d fit right in with the rich capital girls.”

A tear escaped, trailing down your cheek and you blinked more away. You felt impossibly trapped, frozen in fear and trembling in his arms. His hands came to your hips, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he rubbed his hard on against your ass.

His lips were close to your ear, “if you want to protect your family, you need to stop trying to avoid me.”

“Fuck you,” you whispered, against your better judgment.

At this he chuckled, and one of his hands left your hips, grabbing onto your chin, forcing your head to the side and holding you still as his lips smothered yours with a rough kiss.

And then he backed off, walking out of the room before he called off the other men.

You were still in shock as you caught your breath, staring at the space he was just occupying as you tried to collect your head.

Lips still burning from his kiss, you shuddered as you thought about what you might need to do to keep your ma and brother safe from him.

After they had all filed out and you took a moment to adjust your clothes, you finally left your brother’s room and took in the wreckage they had left behind. The house was trashed, furniture knocked over and papers scattered about everywhere.

Your room was the worst of all though, everything had been pulled out of the drawers and piled on the floor, your mattress was up against the wall, your desk had been toppled over, leaving anything on top of it to scatter across your room, and they had shattered your mirror, leaving a jagged piece reflecting your misery back at you as you stood in the door.

Your ma was a mess, crying and hugging you and your brother for an hour afterwards, repeatedly questioning out loud why they would do this to your family.

Unfortunately, the answer was all too plain to you now, although you were still too freighted to fully admit it to yourself.

For whatever reason, Coriolanus Snow had decided to stake his claim on you, and based on your previous interactions with him, you knew that it was only a matter of time before he would take what he wanted.

For a week, you were terrified to leave your house alone, always calling on your friends to ask them to walk with you too and from work or the market.

In those days, Coriolanus’ presence always weighed heavy on you, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. Even having your friends nearby couldn’t stave off the fear that clutched your heart when you noticed Coriolanus stalking behind your group, always a good deal of distance away, but you knew that he made himself visible to you on purpose.

The feeling of safety became something of the past. Everywhere that you went, he was there, although he hadn’t spoken to you since he and his other Peacekeeping brutes tore your home apart. But that didn’t make him any less terrifying.

Even your house, which had felt secure and safe for so long was no longer sacred. It had taken days to clean up the place, and much of your furniture had been broken in the frenzy.

After Coriolanus had assaulted you in your home, you bartered with some friends to acquire a large lock to place on the front door of the house, but it still didn’t provide much protection when the peacekeepers could just break the door down.

Unfortunately for you, having that lock also didn’t do you any good if you forgot to use it.

After waving goodbye to your friend as you walked up to your door after a late night shift, you pulled out your key and turned the lock, leaving it hanging on the door and closing it behind you.

The first thing that you noticed when you stepped inside was how unusually quiet it was. Usually your brother would be at the door to greet you, even at this late hour, but he wasn’t there this time, and when you called out for your ma and brother, you only heard silence in response. Where were they?

Alarm bells started ringing in your head as you ventured further, and you had just stepped into the doorway of your room when you heard a heavy click and felt cold steel press against the back of your head.

You froze in place, staring ahead into the broken mirror across from you that confirmed who was behind the trigger.

Your eyes locked in the mirror, the cold resolve set in his icy blue gaze made you shudder.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop trying to stay away from me, Y/N?” He was angry, a lethal poison infecting his voice.

You couldn’t speak, your mouth was dry, and your mind was racing a million miles a second, but you needed to know that your family was safe.

“Did you hurt them?” You whispered.

“Not yet. Your Ma and brother will be fine. As long as you do what I say.”

You let out a shaky breath at the confirmation that they were safe, but your stomach still turned at his words. You were terrified of Coriolanus, and now that he had you completely at his mercy, you knew that he wouldn’t let you go until he took exactly what he wanted from you.

“You understand, yes?” The gun pressed to your skull harder and you quickly nodded.

“Yes.”

“Get on your knees, slowly.” You felt him move the pistol away from your head for a moment, and you turned around, meeting his eyes fearfully before lowering yourself to kneel before him.

Coriolanus unbuttoned his blue shirt, dropping it on the floor behind him. He looked at you expectantly and you realized he wanted you to unbuckle his belt. Your trembling fingers fumbled with the belt before reaching forward to unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper. He pushed his pants down his legs before removing his boxers as well.

He smirked down at you as you took in the size of him.

“Such a pretty girl,” you flinched when you felt one hand twist into your hair while the other brought the pistol to your temple. “But I think you’d look better with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

The hand in your hair tightened, pulling at your scalp and dragging your head forward.

Reluctantly, you lifted your hand to wrap around the base of his thick cock, nervously wetting your lips before parting them and taking the tip into your mouth.

Coriolanus pushed himself deeper, nudging the back of your throat and groaning lowly when your eyes flitted up to meet his.

You pressed your tongue flat to the bottom of your mouth, trying to make more room for him as he sped up his pace.

You closed you eyes, bringing every thought to controlling your breath as he pushed his cock to the back of your throat, in and out between your lips. The cooling metal of the gun barrel was still taut against your skin, trembling slightly as Coriolanus gritted his teeth above you.

"Look at that, you're relaxing for me, good girl." But where did your pretty eyes go? That wouldn't do, he needed all of your attention. The nails of his fingers dug into your scalp, and tears sprung into your eyes. Your muffled yelp reached his ears.

"You'll keep," a groan interrupted him as your hand tightened around his cock, "your eyes open, and on me.”

“Do....you...understand?" Each word was punctuated by a harsh thrust into your throat, pushing past your tongue and slamming against the back of your neck.

You pathetically hummed around his cock in agreement, nervously keeping your eyes on his, not wanting to give him any reasons to hurt you.

By the time he was coming down your throat, your lips were puffy from his brutal pace, and your tears made your cheeks slick and shiny. You gagged at the sensation, throat closing around his length as he spilled his seed down your throat. He held your head in place, choking you with his cock until you had swallowed every drop of his salty cum.

Coriolanus’ grip on the gun had tightened as he came and you fearfully glanced at it before meeting his eyes again.

When he pulled his cock out of your mouth, he was quick to drag you to your feet before tossing you stomach first onto the bed behind you.

Coryo finally holstered his gun, turning back to you and easily pushing you against the bed as he bunched your skirt up at your waist. He let out a low whistle as he admired your ass, reaching out a hand to grope you before giving the soft flesh a sharp smack, earning him a whine from you. You could feel your hips digging into the hard mattress that you had had for your whole life.

You struggled in his arms, but when his hand found it’s home around your throat and you felt his cockhead start sliding past your lips, you realized there was nothing you could do to avoid what was coming.

Coriolanus pushed all of himself into you in one slow, punishing thrust. You didn’t have any time at all to adjust to his thick length before he was gripping your ass tightly, canting his hips back and thrusting into you again.

Your gasps and cries were muffled by his large hand at your throat. The way he tightened his grip combined with the feeling of him stretching you out had you seeing stars.

His pace was brutal. Coriolanus had been imagining this for weeks, and after you kept yourself away from him the past few days, he wanted to make the most of the first time he fucked you.

Each time you tried to escape from under him, his large arms wrapped around you again, holding you in place as he snapped his hips against your ass, burying himself deep inside you with every thrust.

“Keep trying to get away sweetheart,” his hot breath fanned over your neck, and the blond drew closer to suck at a tender spot until you whined and melted back into his arms. “I like watching you struggle.”

Your stomach turned and you tried to ignore how weak your knees felt at the peacekeeper’s whispered threats in your ear.

Coriolanus pulled out of you, not giving you time to process his actions before he was flipping you onto your back.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you tried to break away from the terrifying man above you while you had the chance, but you were too slow.

The blond captured you again, throwing you onto the bed and straddling you as you thrashed against him. When Coriolanus reached his hand out again to choke you, you could feel your heart beating against his hand.

You flinched when he drew close to you, his nose practically touching yours as he forced you to look at his eyes.

When he pushed into you again, stretching you out from a new angle, you whimpered, trying hard not to let your lashes flutter closed.

Coriolanus reveled at the sight of your sweet, tear filled eyes meeting his as he split you open with his cock. The way that you trembled beneath him gave him a thrilling sense of control over you. He knew that you already would let him do whatever he wanted, but for some twisted reason he wished he had held onto his gun so he could press it to your temple as he fucked you and see the fear in your eyes.

Your cunt was pulling him in, squeezing and twitching around his length with every thrust. He could feel you getting wetter around him with every brush against your walls.

“You’re so tight, so wet,” he strained, getting distracted by the sounds of your cunt squelching with every move he made. “I need to fill up that pretty pussy, Y/N.”

At the sight of your eyes widening and your lips parting in protest, Coriolanus clamped his hand over your mouth before fucking you faster, groaning and cursing under his breath.

“Someone needed to- fuck,“ Coriolanus’ voice caught in his throat when he felt you clench around him, “someone needed to teach you a lesson about respecting authority. You should feel lucky that I was willing to.”

Begging and sobbing against his hand only spurred him on and he laughed at every pathetic attempt you made to push him off.

Coriolanus’ hand crept from your mouth to frame your jaw and he roughly squeezed your cheeks until you opened your mouth. The blond spat into your mouth and you gagged, your repulsion making your skin crawl. You wanted to throw up at the feeling of his spit sliding down your throat when you swallowed it, and Coriolanus chuckled at your disgust as he leered over you.

“You’re just a filthy district slut,” his hand returned to your throat, choking you harder than he had before, “and that’s all you’ll ever be, Y/N.” The venom and hatred in his voice shocked you, and the way he was thrusting into you was downright punishing.

You were clenching around him so tight, and the sight of your sweet, innocent face marred with so much fear was enough to send Coriolanus over the edge.

He slowed, groaning as he pumped you full of his seed, his cock still twitching inside of you.

After he pulled out and moved off of you, you tried to turn away from him, but his hand shot out and latched onto your wrist, twisting your arm painfully before forcing you to face him and firmly kissing you.

When he pulled away, the words that he uttered sent a chill over your skin, “Snow lands on top.”

The next few days were a blur as you blinked in and out of dissociation. Coriolanus had his way with you more times than you could count, never caring about your distress at him using your body however he pleased.

Any resistance you put up was easily squashed when he snapped back threats to hurt your family. However if he was in a really bad mood, he would brandish his pistol, pressing the sharp metal to your forehead until you sobbed, and apologized for fighting back.

You weren’t even sure how many days had passed since you first discovered that Coriolanus had your ma and brother thrown in jail.

Every time Coriolanus sank into you, you could feel yourself receding into your mind, trying to protect yourself from the nightmare you found yourself in.

During the days, he would go out to terrorize the people of district 12, and during the nights, he would return to terrorize you.

One night you lay in your bed, praying that your ma and brother were safe. You could only imagine the horrible things they could be being subjected to at the hands of the peacekeepers.

Your neck was sore and bruised, as were your wrists. Your entire body was aching with pain from Coriolanus’ repeated abuse.

When you heard the front door swing open, you tensed instinctively, closing in on yourself in anxiety. Hushed voices reached your ears and you craned your neck to try to hear better. They seemed to be in the midst of a conversation.

“I mean, don’t you think that maybe what you’re doing here is wrong?”

“Sejanus, if anything, you’d be helping the poor girl, we’ll give her food for every load she takes.” Your stomach turned at the disgusting way Coriolanus was talking about you, and the way his friend laughed along with him.

“And you’re sure she’s not going to try to tell somebody?”

“Nobody would believe her over a Peacekeeper, and besides, who will there be to tell? I have dirt on every officer in 12, if they tried to do anything to put a stop to this, they’d be taking themself down as well.”

The men were both silent as Coriolanus’ words sunk in.

“You promise you’ll actually help her out afterwards?” His friend, Sejanus apparently, sounded somewhat concerned, but clearly not concerned enough to report Coriolanus. “And she’s gonna get something in return?”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure her brother gets some candy or something,” Coriolanus chuckled and you heard the other man laughing too.

“Is she in there right now?” Those words had you sitting up in bed, fear clutching your heart. Coriolanus wasn’t seriously discussing pimping you out to his friends, was he?

You got your answer immediately however, when your door opened and you came face to face with a man you recognized as another peacekeeper. He seemed anxious, but after he noticed your state of undress, he advanced on you with the same sick desire you had seen in Coriolanus’ eyes several times now.

Your throat was dry and anxiety laced your words as you pleaded with him, “Wait, please don’t!”

“Shut up,” he growled, leering over you as you sat on the bed.

You tried to put up a fight, but it was all in vain. You really should have known you couldn’t take on a peacekeeper. Despite your attempt to run past him and reach the door, he easily grabbed you and shoved you back onto the bed. His hands pawed at your undergarments, throwing them behind him without a second thought before he removed his pants and stroked his hard cock.

When he forcefully pushed himself into your sore pussy, you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes and spilling over when he began to rock back and forth.

Sejanus was different than his friend in several ways. While Coriolanus had been rough and kept a fast pace, you found that Sejanus preferred to take his time, slowly pushing his cock into you as you trembled in his grasp. After the initial struggle, he was surprisingly tender and gentle, caressing your soft skin, pressing kisses to your breasts, and sucking on your sensitive nipples.

Unlike the blond, Sejanus seemed almost unwilling to meet your eyes, and when you protested or put up any resistance, instead of reveling in the fight, Sejanus just covered your mouth with his large palm so your yelps couldn’t reach his ears.

“I’m doing this for you, Y/N.” He whispered against your skin when he drew close, tilting his hips back so he almost slid all the way out before slowly filling you up again all the way to the hilt.

His words only made you feel worse. You didn’t want any of this, and when you grabbed his hand off of your mouth and told him as much, his eyes darkened in anger.

You whimpered when his hand came to your throat, squeezing harshly against the faded bruises.

“I’m not a bad guy, okay?” It was hard to discern if he was trying to convince you or himself, and after he slapped you for not agreeing with him, you nodded and tearfully responded.

“You’re not.”

“I’m not,” his hot breath fanned over your dewy skin as he repeated himself on a loop, thrusting his cock into your tight cunt again and again. “I’m not. I’m not.”

You whined when his hand came between your legs, swirling around your clit and stealing unwanted gasps from you.

Every drag of his thick cock against your snug walls mixed with his twitching fingers at your clit brought you closer to the brink or orgasm.

Tears fell past your eyes which were squeezed shut, and you whimpered as you came around him and he fucked you harder, fingers never leaving your clit.

When you came again, Sejanus kissed you for the first time, desperation and hunger evident in the way his tongue pushed its way into your mouth, swallowing your moans as his lips slid over yours. You felt disgusted, but also couldn’t ignore the confusing way you clenched around him when his lips first found yours.

Your third orgasm was close behind the second, tearing through you with force and Sejanus grunted at the feeling of your slick cunt choking his cock, fucking you faster and chasing his own release.

He cursed loudly when he came, shuddering as he slowly snapped his hips against yours to fuck his cum deeper inside of you.

Sejanus kissed you again before pulling out, quietly apologizing without meeting your eyes and then he was gone, leaving you exhausted and sore in a bed you no longer felt safe in.

As you lay there, trying to ground yourself and comprehend what you had just gone through, you couldn’t help but think of your mother and brother, who were being held in prison just because of the twisted infatuation Coriolanus had with you.

How different would your life be now if he had never approached you that late night several weeks ago?

And what was your life going to look like now that he had claimed his stake on you and was planning to let his Peacekeeper friends “share” you and take advantage of you whenever they pleased?

Hours had passed as you tried to think of any way out of the bottomless pit that you now found yourself in. Tears had subsided a while ago, but now you were just left with emptiness. You were still lost in thought when the door opened and Coriolanus’ large frame cast a shadow across your bed.

The grin he shot you after he took in your distressed state was smug, triumphant even, and the glint in his eyes told you exactly why he was entering your room at the early hours of the morning.

Tonight, you didn’t put up any fight at all.

[neonghostlights]

I love your work! Could you do a Eddie Munson x reader where he has a big crush on her like is in love with her but she’s dating Steve and he catches Steve cheating on her and gets mad and confronts him then later on comforts her and they end up together?

Hi! Thank you!!! I don’t know why I imagined bartender!Eddie in this so here we go lol. (Also I apologize to the Steve girlies for this one)

Warnings: Steve is mean in this one, Cheating (Steve cheats on Reader), Fighting, Illness, Lies, Heartbreak, Jealousy, Alcohol, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending,18+ only

Wordcount: 2.1k

Fight It

Eddie wiped the glass down and hung it back up. 

Friday nights at the bar were usually busier than this. Eddie wasn’t complaining though. Maybe his boss would let him off earlier than usual so he could go check on you. A few stray patrons sat at the bar, already with their drinks. The blonde at the end of the bar had been eying Eddie all night. Eddie looked away from her, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. He wasn’t in the mood for any pointless one night stands. Not when his heart was already shattered. 

You had called earlier to let him know that you were sick. Nothing too crazy, just a cold, but he was still worried nonetheless. When he voiced his concern you assured him that Steve would take care of you. 

Steve. Your boyfriend and his best friend. 

The reminder churned painfully in Eddie’s gut. He didn’t quite recall when he fell for you. Maybe it was watching you knock bats in the head with a plank of wood in the upside down, or maybe it was during your many late night talks and hang out sessions. He fell fast and hard. 

It had been two years of going back and forth with himself on if he should grow a pair and admit how he felt. When he really thought that it was time to ask you out, Steve swooped in and swept you up off your feet right in front of him. 

Eddie had been so focused on you alone that he hadn’t even seen it coming. 

It had been a few months since you and Steve made it official, and while the friend group was ecstatic, Eddie was bitter. Steve was a good guy, Eddie knew that. But he had changed, much like the rest of the group after surviving the horrors of the upside down. He became more reckless and didn’t really think things through. Everyone thought that it would wear off, but it's been two years since they defeated Vecna and he’s still the same. Trauma and constant near death will change you though, Eddie knew that, and he didn’t fault him for how he coped. 

As long as his coping didn’t involve hurting you. 

He checked the clock again, counting down the hours until quitting time. He wondered if he should call you just to check in and make sure if you were okay. But if Steve answered he didn’t know if could handle that. 

Eddie sighed, adjusting the bandanna tied against his head to keep loose hairs from his bun out of his face. 

“Look alive,” Tony, his boss, called from farther down the bar when the door chimed. 

Steve walked in like he owned the place, striding towards the bar. Nodding his head in greeting when he saw Eddie. He sat in front of him, putting both hands on the sticky bar top. 

“What are you doing here?” Eddie blurted out instead of saying hello. 

“What? I can’t come visit my best friend at work?” Steve said with a grin. 

“Not when you’re girlfriends sick,” Eddie snapped in response. 

Steve hummed, ordering his drink. 

Eddie didn’t want to make it. He wanted to tell him to get the hell out of there and to go take care of you but his boss was watching and he couldn’t risk losing his job. Not many places around Hawkins were willing to hire him. 

“She said she’s fine. I just talked to her before I came here,” Steve admitted when he had his drink in his hand. 

Eddie nodded even though he wanted to scream. He knew you would say you were okay even if you weren’t. How did Steve not see that? 

Eddie noticed Steve’s eye catching on the blonde at the end of the bar who was now sending love eyes back to Steve. She flipped her hair, picked up her drink and made her way to the empty seat beside Steve. 

Eddie tensed, hoping that she didn’t get too offended when Steve inevitably shot her down. 

But he didn’t. He smiled at her instead. 

Eddie felt his heart drop into his stomach as he watched Steve start to obnoxiously flirt with her. Steve leaned down, whispering in her ear as she trailed a finger up her arm. 

Eddie slammed a bottle down, in hopes of getting his attention but he didn’t bother looking up, he just leaned in closer to her. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie asked in a bitter tone when Steve continued to ignore him. 

“What?” Steve finally looked up at him. 

“He has a girlfriend,” Eddie informed the girl who now had her hand in Steve’s lap. 

She just shrugged. 

“This is fucking ridiculous. I’ll call her right now and tell her what you’re doing,” Eddie announced, hoping that would scare the both of them into going their separate ways. 

Steve leaned in slowly, taking his time with what he was about to say. “Do you really want to be the one to break her heart, Eddie? I thought you were my friend. You call to tell her and that’s it for the group. You think she’ll want to come around anymore or even want to see you? I know by the way you look at her that you’d rather die than not see her anymore.”

Eddie leaned away, surprised by the way his friend was speaking to him. This wasn’t the Steve Harrington he used to know. 

“You need to get help,” Eddie said, tone softening in hopes that would help sway Steve to do the right thing. 

“You only live once, Eddie,” Steve said as he pulled out a wad of cash and slapped it on the counter, enough for him and his new friends drinks plus some. “You should know that better than anyone else. It’s nothing personal. When the opportunity arises it’s good to have fun. You should try once in a while instead of pining after someone who doesn’t want you.”

Eddie saw red as he reached over the bar and grabbed Steve by the shirt, yanking his upper half over the counter. 

“I don’t know why you’re like this but it’s gone too far. You don’t deserve her and I hope everything falls apart for you,” Eddie bit out, close enough to Steve's face that he could smell the alcohol and see the red in his blood shot eyes. 

“Woah! Knock it off!” Tony yelled, grabbing the baseball bat out from under the bar. 

Eddie let go of Steve’s shirt before Tony could start swinging, letting his feet drop to the ground clumsily. 

“Fuck you, Munson. After all I’ve done for you? You’re gonna turn on me just like that over a girl?” Steve seethed, pointing a finger in Eddie’s face. Eddie felt his arm lift, fist raised, and ready to hit Steve. 

“Both of you! Out!” Tony yelled, pointing the bat at both Steve and Eddie. 

Tony’s yelling had Eddie snapping out of it. He dropped his fist. He didn’t want to hit Steve. He had already been hit enough in the head. He did want to smack some sense into him though. 

Eddie watched as Steve backed away, grabbing the girl by her hand and pulling her behind him. Eddie groaned, turning to face Tony who was red in the face. 

“I’m leaving,” Eddie said, putting his hands up and walking away. 

Before Eddie could reach the door Tony stopped him. “Wait, Eddie?” 

“Yeah?”

“Is he really cheating on his girl?” Tony asked, putting the bat back under the bar. 

Eddie said yes, confused as to why Tony cared now since Eddie was obviously fired. 

“You should kick his ass. Just not in here I don’t need the cops sniffin’ around. Come back tomorrow with a clear head,” Tony said with a nod, dismissing him. 

Eddie said his thanks to Tony and then rushed out into the parking lot, hoping to catch Steve and make him change his mind. But when he made it out there Steve, the woman, and his car were gone. 

Eddie knew what he needed to do next. 

His knuckles met your apartment door with a quick knock. 

“I’m coming!” You croaked from the other side. Eddie could hear the sound of your feet shuffling as fast as you could. Eddie smiled to himself until he remembered what he was there to do. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. 

“Eddie,” you whined when you opened the door shielding your face with your robe. “You can’t be here. You’ll get sick.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Eddie said as he ignored your worries and walked inside. 

He could see how sick and tired you look when he got closer. You sniffled, turning away from him to cough into your arm. Eddie wished he could wait until you were feeling better but he didn’t want to risk Steve coming here first with some smooth lie. 

“Can we sit? I need to tell you something,” Eddie requested, already walking to the couch. 

You followed behind him, fishing a tissue from the box on the coffee table before sitting down in the chair farthest from him. 

“Everything okay?” Eddie could hear the worry cracking through your strained voice. There’s no way Steve couldn’t tell how sick you were over the phone. The thought brought a fresh wave of anger through him. 

“Have you talked to Steve tonight?” Eddie inquired, needing to know where to start. 

“Earlier. We talked on the phone for a bit. He said he’s not feeling well either so he’s going to try to sleep to fight it. Why?” You asked, wiping at your nose with a tissue. 

“I, uh, well he’s not sick. I saw him tonight at the bar,” Eddie explained gently. 

You tilted your head, urging him to continue. 

“And he left with a girl,” Eddie admitted, watching your face go through all of your emotions. He watched as you went through confusion, to shock, to grim understanding. 

“Oh,” is all you said in a small voice. 

Eddie wasn’t sure what to do. Should he hug you? Comfort you with words? Or let you process what he was saying alone?

Eddie was standing, crossing over to you when a small smile crossed your face. Eddie froze in place. Was this the first sign of a breakdown? 

“Why the hell are you smiling?” Eddie questioned. 

You just laughed, shaking your head and covering your mouth when it turned into a cough. 

“You’re scaring me,” Eddie admitted, sitting beside you. “Do you want to slash his tires? I’ll do it.”

“No, Eddie,” you sighed. “I’m happy. I’ve been trying to find a reason to break up with him for months.”

“Months? What?” Eddie sputtered, not believing what he was hearing. 

You nodded, mouth set in a straight line. “I shouldn’t have started this with him. I wasn’t really into it to begin with and it spiraled out of control,” you admitted. “I just wanted to-” You caught what you were saying and slammed your mouth shut. 

“You wanted to do what?” Eddie pressed, handing you a new tissue. He really needed to get you some soup and some cold medicine. 

You groaned. “I might as well just admit it now. I wanted to make you jealous.”

“Me?” Eddie gasped, pointing at himself to make sure you knew who you were talking about. “You wanted to make me jealous?” 

“I mean, it was a stupid idea…” You trailed off. 

“It fucking worked,” Eddie exclaimed. 

“What?”

“I was so jealous. You have no clue how much I hated seeing you together. I’ve wanted to be with you for two damn years,” Eddie explained. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?!” You yelled as much as your raw throat would remind you. 

“Why didn’t you?!” Eddie yelled back. 

“I was scared!” 

“Well, me too!” Eddie sputtered, practically jumping up and down from the excitement of the new information he was given. “You want to be with me?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” you told him. 

Eddie paused, looking over at you smiling softly at him. How could he not notice the way you looked at him? It was the same way he looked at you, full of love. 

Eddie leaned in, ready to press his lips against yours but met the palm of your hand instead. 

“Too soon?” Eddie asked with his lips still smushed against your hand. 

“No. You have no clue how much I want to kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick. And don’t you dare say you don’t care if you get sick or not,” you declared. 

Eddie jumped up, pulling his keys out of his pocket and rushing towards the door. 

“Where the hell are you going?” You shouted after him, twisting in your seat and watching him with surprised eyes. 

“I’m getting you some medicine! The sooner you feel better the sooner I can kiss you!” Eddie yelled back before he ran out the door. 

Eddie got his kiss a few nights later and every night after that from there on out.

[aves-ery]

CEO or Mob boss Wanda and stripper R👀 maybe she's just getting some visit to a certain club and she only have her for R but R is kind avoiding her. R is kind of snappy and feisty for Wanda but Wanda loved her more. One night she saw R entertaining other guests so she brought the whole club and kicked everyone out so she could have R all for herself.

Idk maybe you'd like to consider, btw you works are great and wonderful and so are you! Thanks!!!

one, thank you! two, this is ctually so bad bc I'm tired and for some reason forgot how to write good smut? but heres just wanda crazy for you.

pairing; CEO!wanda x stripper!reader

warnings; smut 18+ ONLY, infatuated wanda, praise!!, strap-on, fingering

if anyone saw wanda at a strip club, it'd be a field day for press. but quite honestly, she didnt care when she laid her eyes on you. she saw the flashes of the cameras when she walked in, but when she saw you in that lingerie, she didn't care what the articles were gonna read the next day.

wanda sat snug in a booth, watching you from afar. her silk button up was unbuttoned down to her upper stomach, her boobs only covered by her tight fitting sports-bra.

"i want that one," she pointed you out to all of her boss friends, a beer bottle still in hand. you were all over someone else, a lap dance she presumed.

one of the guys whistled you over, waving a "come here" motion. wanda knew it wasnt the way to get your attention, but you followed through, stalking over to them. you smiled, waving.

"hey gentlemen," you said seductively, plopping your pretty ass onto Tony's lap. wanda rolled her eyes.

"actually, as pretty as you are baby, this one wanted ya," tony pointed to wanda, and wanda waved her fingers.

"you just caught my eye, pretty," she said. you recognized the CEO immediately. you had to fight an eyeroll because no way in hell you were letting some snob like wanda touch you. you turned to the gruffy man whose lap you are on.

"i came over to see you," you avoided. the men around the table laughed, making fun of wanda. wanda just told them to all "shut the fuck up."

she tried to get your attention all night, buying you drinks, complimenting you, trying to just make you say hi. all she'd get in response is an eye roll and a "leave me alone."

"yo, get away from the girl she told you to stop," a bouncer said, pushing wanda away from you.

"look man, im not trying to cause a problem. she's just a pretty lady," wanda laughed, trying to use her charm to make him let her through.

"sorry, the girls not comfortable with you," the bouncer said again. wanda groaned, pulling out her wallet.

"c'mon ill even pay to just talk to her, man," wanda pulled out a few hundred dollar bills, and you rolled your eyes at the interaction. "i wont touch her, fucking promise. just wanna get to know the gal," wanda pleaded.

the bouncer looked at you, pointing at the money. wanda was at least holding 500 dollars in her hand currently. it was a silent agreement, and wanda was allowed into the private room

she handed a bill to the bouncer, then a few to you, before sitting in one of the booths. "you're a feisty one," she joked. you rolled your eyes.

"you can't buy me," she snapped. wanda nodded.

"im not trying to, babe. you're just... very intriguing," wanda said.

-

you had complained all of the next week, even after you didnt see wanda. you just didnt want her around, and didn't want her paying her way to you.

wanda found that out quickly, but she couldn't help it. you deserved to be worshiped with everything she could buy.

she sent you flowers, chocolates, everything to work. she didn't even know what days you worked, and she still sent them. Every time, you snacked on the chocolate and left the flowers in the trash. you didn't complain about that though. if she was going to spend money on you, she was going to laugh about it.

wanda came again two weeks later. she smiled and waved at you, but you continued flirting with a client. your hands on the man more than usual, making sure to get a rise out of her. you avoided her, but from close by. she'd call you over, and you'd give a lap dance to a guy near her.

wanda was fucking tired of it. that week, she bought the whole strip club. when you found out, you quit.

"no." wanda said.

"what?! you're fucking crazy. you're stalking me!" you screamed. wanda raised her eyebrows, standing up

"im not stalking you!" she screamed back at you

you laughed, "right. you're just fucking craz-" wanda kissed you. hard. you pushed her away, looking at her like she was actually insane, because she was, and then you kissed her back harder.

wanda grabbed your hips, picking you up and setting you on her desk. "you were just too pretty to leave alone. I'd buy the whole earth to be with you," she told you.

you thought she was joking, but she really wasn't. wanda was infatuated with you. when you looked her in the eyes, you could tell. you kissed her hard, allowing the woman you barely knew to have all of you.

"you're so pretty," wanda said, removing your sweater and kissing your breasts. you blushed, nodding.

"thank you," you whispered, moaning softly.

"you'll never have to work again, okay? and I'll win you over, i promise. I'll take you out on dates, I'll buy you dinner," wanda got on her knees sliding your shorts down, looking at you in the eyes. "I'll do anything, for you."

you blushed again, nodding, "win me over," you moaned. wanda nodded, sliding your panties over and taking you in.

"such a good girl," she praised, licking you fully. you shook softly, tangling your hands into wanda's hair. her lips found your clit, sucking softly.

you let out another breathy moan, and another as two digits pushed into you. your hand flew everything off the desk, and you lied back. wanda could deal with it later, you decided.

she was quick to make you cum, cleaning your thighs and kissing them both. she got rid of her pants, revealing a large red strap on. you looked at wanda with shaky arms and legs, smiling at her.

she didn't bother to take her button up off, only her pants and boxers, before shuffling towards you. "can i make you mine?" wanda asked, kissing your palms. you smiled up at her.

"yes," you said again, kissing her deeply. wanda smiled, lining her strap up with your cunt, before softly making her way into you.

the strap was the biggest you've taken, so you were grateful for wanda's soft nature. she looked at you, searching for any sign of discomfort. when she didn't find any, she started to go faster.

your hands found her back, gripping her shoulders and scratching down her back, "faster, wanda," you pleaded.

wanda nodded quickly, making sure to pick up the pace, "anything for you, doll," wanda kissed her thumb. she grabbed your boobs, kissing them both before kissing your lips. "you're so pretty like this," wanda said, kissing you again.

"thank you," you moaned. wanda's hand found your clit, rubbing softly until you came around her strap.

when you finished, she pulled out and washed you up with a washcloth. she then put you back into your shorts, and then her own hoodie.

"gonna get you back home and run you a bath, kay? dont gotta worry about anything ever again. I'll take care of you."

[restinslices]

I would love to request a fic of Ares x fem reader please? Maybe based of your post of being Ares favorite mortal lover and defending her or whatever idea you may have?

I think you and someone else requested this so COME GET YA’LL JUICE.

I made this sadder than it needed to be but it’s an illness at this point. Warning for a down bad Ares. Like, OOC type of down bad

Gods are typically very predictable when it comes to love.

It's usually temporary love and honestly a mortal is lucky if it lasts more than a month. They get together, have a baby then the god moves on before the baby is even born. It sounds heartless because it is, but that's just how it was when you were immortal. You got bored very quickly and chasing after mortals gave you something to do when life got too quiet.

That's what typically happens.

Sometimes though, the gods find very special mortals.

For Hermes, it was May. For Poseidon, it was Sally. For Ares, it was you.

Ares constantly watched over you and your child, even if you never knew. He couldn't be with you and he knew this, but that didn't mean he couldn't make sure you were ok and help out occasionally. Sometimes it'd be something as small as leaving you gifts to cheer you up, and sometimes it'd be something as big as delivering “bad luck” to your boss when he was being rude.

So imagine how upset he got when he watched your new partner continue to mistreat you.

Zeus made himself very clear.

Absolutely DO NOT commit any acts of violence against a particular mortal named Trent.

Ares thought about listening. Then Ares thought about the fact that he was willing to allow a war to happen between Zeus, Hades and Poseidon and he decided that since he's done a lot worse, a few felonies wouldn't be so bad in the grand scheme of things.

~~

The arguing made Ares pause before he could knock.

He heard your voice. “In my bed Trent?! Are you serious?!”.

The male groaned in annoyance, “If you can't accept that relationships have hiccups then maybe you don't actually care for me! I'll leave you alone right now if that's what you want! It's just fuck me, right?! After all I do?!”.

“What do you do?!”.

“I told you I had demons I was fighting!”

“Is the demon monogamy?”

He huffed and he swung the door open while going on and on about the so called demons he was fighting that you wouldn't understand, and if Ares had Hades powers, he'd send him some actual demons to worry about.

His eyes landed on Ares, “who are you?”.

You came into view right behind Trent and your eyes widened.

It was strange. Ares hardly paid attention to little details when it came to someone's appearance. After a while his eyes skimmed over people, and even if a mortal managed to catch his attention, he usually forgot what they looked like before the week ended. You were different though and if this is what Poseidon and Hermes felt then he understood why it was so hard for them to let their mortals go.

He wasn't necessarily an artistic guy but he could pick out the specific shade of your eyes, even if it was the most basic eye color. He memorized the shape of your hair and its color. He memorized certain mannerisms or habits you had, no matter how small. If someone blindfolded him, he was sure he'd still be able to find you just by hearing your laughter. He'd pat the area around him as he walk towards you and once he felt your hand in his, he'd know he was home. And sure, there was a mortal out there that had the same texture on their fingertips but he didn't care about them. He cared about you and even if you thought you weren't special, he would strongly disagree. Mortals didn't stay in his mind. You did. That meant something.

But Trent didn't seem to understand how special you were. He didn't understand that you were doing him a service just by standing near him and it made him angrier than he expected.

“This is Ares”, you said. It was embarrassing for him to admit how much he loved how his name sounded on your tongue, so he never admitted it. At least not out loud.

“Like the Zodiac Aries?”. He was going to correct him and make several snarky comments but you spoke before him.

“A-R-E-S. Ares. Like the God of War. Spirit of Battle. Mars for the Romans” you explained and the smirk that formed on his face further proved how down bad he was for you. The shit was embarrassing.

“I'm the father of her child” Ares added and Trent did not look pleased. He looked back and forth between the two of you and scoffed.

“You've been cheating on me, haven't you?”. He didn't even give you a chance to respond. “You're on my ass about what I did but you've already been whoring around. Just like I fucking thought”

“My kid is eight” you said simply. Ares hated that although you kept stepping back, he kept moving towards you. His shoulders were tall and proud, like he was trying to intimidate you into admitting something that wasn't true.

“I bet you're still sleeping with him or any other man that looks at you! I should've known better than to dedicate myself to a single mother. You're all just cheap sl-” his sentence was stopped abruptly when Ares grabbed onto his shoulder. At first Ares didn't realize how hard he was squeezing his shoulder, but once he noticed the sounds coming out of his mouth and saw his pathetic attempts to pry his hand off of him, Ares squeezed harder.

“She missed a very crucial part” his hand squeezed harder still and he pushed down, making the man hit his knees on the ground hard. “Ares, God of War. Spirit of Battle. Protector of Mistreated Women”, he glanced at you then looked back down at the man clenching his shoulder under him. “Have you been mistreating this woman?”.

Trent looked at you but all that did was fuel Ares’ with more rage. The nerve to treat you so cruelly for months then look to you for help. He yanked his shoulder towards him, earning a shout from him. “Don't look at her. Look at me”.

You placed your hand over his, “let him go”. You spoke softly as if you cared for this speck of dirt that probably wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire. Why? Why do this for him when there are millions of other men out there you could be with? Men that would treat you 100x better than Trent had. Men that would shower you with the praises you deserve and stand by you loyally and ask about your day and do whatever other bullshit mortals do that Ares would do with you if he weren't a god.

Trent had you but he didn't deserve you. Area didn't have you but he deserved you. The idea of Ares deserving something instead of just being given it was strange and foreign and even though gods couldn't get headaches, this is the closest he's felt to it.

“Let him go” you repeated slowly.

“I should get somewhere high before I do”.

“Hilarious” you said, although he wasn't joking. “You're gonna hurt him”. That was the plan. “I'm being serious, Ares. Let him go”.

“And then?”

“Then you leave”. But he stays? You were willing to let this man get away with all he's done within your months of dating and shoo the father of your child away?

“I should kill him anyway. He knows too much”.

He was right. Mortals that didn't have demigods weren't supposed to know about the gods existence, so technically killing him wouldn't be completely out of left field. Technically he somewhat had the right to. That's what his deluded mind was telling him anyway. And even if the man on his knees didn't know what he did now, he still deserved a form of punishment.

Your minds seemed to be linked, because you shook your head at him, like you were telling him “no. Don't do that”. You crouched down in front of Trent who was still desperately trying to free his shoulder. “You want him to let go don't you?”

“Well obviously!”. Ares didn't like the attitude and he was going to push down hard enough to dislocate his shoulder, but you put your hand back on top of his and shook your head again.

“He will. First you have to swear to something. Make an oath. Swear that you'll never come back here. Swear that you'll never talk to me again and you'll never mistreat another woman again. Swear on the River Styx. If you break this oath, something terrible will happen. Won't it Ares?”. You looked up at him, expecting an answer. Ares didn't know the answer though. He knew what happened to gods and demigods but regular average civilians? He assumed it was something bad, but he didn't know how bad. Since he didn't have a solid answer, he just voiced what he wanted to do.

“If you break your oath, I'll find you. I'll tear your legs off so you can't run, then your arms so you can't crawl away. I'll give you medical attention so you don't die and I'll make your pathetic form into a punching bag for when I get bored and trust me, I get bored often”. Ares couldn't see how he looked but he knew he looked scary enough by the way the guy shuddered and looked away from him. He even started to cry, which Ares found ridiculous. He wasn't crying earlier. He was on top of the world thinking punishment wouldn't come and even now he wouldn't truly be punished.

The guy repeated everything you said in between disgusting sobs. He swore on the River Styx and Ares was sure he didn't even know what that truly meant. He just wanted to be let go. Ares didn't want to let go but after some more coaxing from you, he let go reluctantly. Trent ran out the house, still sobbing and holding onto his shoulder.

“Thanks for that” you said when you rose back to your feet, but it didn't sound like an actual thank you. You sounded annoyed. “He'll squeal but no one will believe him about being attacked by a god. He'll drive himself crazy or get himself sent somewhere. He'll always check for you behind him. Is that enough punishment for you?”. Ares wanted some sort of physical punishment right then and there, but he'd either deal with him when you weren't looking or decide this will do. Depended on his mood later on.

“Why'd you do that? Now he won't come back!”

“You made him swear never to come back”, but you didn't seem to like him pointing out that fact. You rolled your eyes,

“Yeah, because I knew you'd break him next time you saw him”. Good point, but why did you still want him around?

“You deserve better”

“And what's better? Someone like you? Someone who pops in from time to time? Someone our child hardly knows? If that's what I deserve, well… I guess I must not deserve much. Maybe I did something wrong in a past life”. Your words cut deep. They cut deep because you had a point. Ares put you in a terrible situation. A lonely one. He made you a single mother and although he didn't talk to mortals often, he was still able to pick up on how mortals felt about single mothers. The unnecessary shame that came with having a child but with no father, even if it wasn't their fault. A large chunk of the mistreated women he protected were single mothers themselves. There was an unnecessary amount of shame thrown onto their shoulders. They could've left a terribly abusive relationship, but all of it was still their fault. They were questioned why they couldn't just stick it out, because surely a child with no father was worse than a child with an abusive father who could “get better” if they just “stopped making problems”. He hated it. Now it was hitting him that he helped place this shame on your shoulders. He never said anything but he still decided to have a child with you even though he knew he'd never be able to stay. He wanted to say he made a mistake, but could it really be a mistake if it all meant he had you in his life even if it was only for fleeting moments?

“You don't need him” he got out finally but you had a counter.

“I need someone. I need someone here. I-I… listen I know Trent can be a handful but it's better to have a handful than nothing at all. You have no idea how lonely it gets and even with him it's still lonely because I can't talk to him about any of this stuff. Do you know how exhausting it is moving a child from school to school? Some schools won't even take her! Says she has disciplinary issues and I should do home schooling but how is that possible if I have to work so we don't end up on the streets?!” your voice got louder and if this was anyone else he'd make them apologize for raising their voice at a god. He didn't interrupt you though. Each word was like twisting a knife inside him and he figured that you should be able to decide when to pull it out.

“Other moms don't want their children anywhere near ours. They think she'll be a bad influence. Some of them aren't bold enough to say it, but I can tell what they're thinking! They treat her like some terrible disease their children will catch and I can't explain why she is the way she is! I can't say 'oh well her dad is a god and the monsters she draws are things she's seeing on the street and you can't see it but honestly she's in more danger than you’. I have to say 'they're just pictures. She's just creative!’ ” You began pacing and rubbing your hands together. “I'm alone and sometimes I don't wanna be alone. Having another adult here keeps the walls from closing in. Ugh. What type of mother am I? I can't explain any of this to my child and I can tell how alone she feels too. I think… I think I'm her only friend. She hears what people say about her. She thinks something is wrong with her. She thinks she's a burden. What eight year old thinks like this?”, You sat on the couch and put your head in your hands. “I'm a failure…”.

“Sad” wasn't the word Ares would use to describe how he felt. Maybe not even “sorrowful”. There had to be a better word to explain how he ached watching you fall apart. Ares wasn't good at personal talks, but he sat beside you and spoke

“You are not a failure”. It was simple, but he hoped it worked anyway.

You looked over at him with an expression he knew would be imprinted into his mind for eternity. “Then what am I?”.

He could go on and on about what you were and how much you meant, but he knew he didn't have much time. Zeus probably already knew he was here. He was nosey like that and he'd do anything to make sure everyone followed his lead. He wished he could tear him apart but Ares knew better than to voice any of the malicious thoughts he had or to try and harm him. Maybe a time would come, but it wasn't now.

“You're doing your best with the heavy burden I put on you”

“She's not a burden” you said quickly. “I'm just not sure what to do anymore. Everything I do seems like the wrong choice”. Ares wanted to approach a topic you seemed to despise but either he was predictable or that mind link was a real thing because next you said “No”.

“That camp-”

“Your family will mold her into what they want her to be and respectfully your family… uhh…” he got it. The gods didn't take kindly to insults and he wouldn't be surprised if you finished your sentence and then was magically turned into a pig.

“She needs to be a warrior. Camp will attempt to make her a warrior”. You didn't seem pleased.

He hated your stubbornness. He didn't watch other demigods as much, but even he knew their mortal mother's tended to die because of their own stubbornness. They'd refuse to send them to camp and when their child realized who they were and the monsters came running… well… there was a good chance everyday struggles wouldn't be a problem anymore.

“She'll realize at some point and you can't protect her”.

“I know” you admitted. The defeat was all over your face and in the heavy breath you took. You laid your head on his arm and intertwined your fingers together. “She's gone for tonight. She's staying with my mother down the street. She's the only one that takes her in sometimes. Can you stay over tonight?”.

“What are you suggesting?”

“You're the furthest thing from funny. I'm not having one of your kids again, are you insane?”. Although you said he wasn't funny, and he wasn't joking in the slightest, you both managed to laugh.

“Seriously, can you stay?”. The sky was clear and sunny but thunder rumbled.

If Ares was granted three wishes from a genie, he'd use all of them to watch Zeus die a horrible miserable death over and over again. What harm would one night do?

Well… a demigod could come out of one night but if Zeus didn't like it, he didn't have to watch.

He knew that argument wouldn't work and he didn't have to speak for you to know the answer. You scooted away from him and you took a sudden interest in the floor.

“I would if I could-”

“I know. I understand”. Another thing he hated about you. You were too understanding. He wanted you to scream at him. He wanted you to scream about how much you hated him and how he ruined you. He wanted you to swear at him and tell him to never step foot near you again. Anything that would make separating easier.

“Ares” you spoke, breaking the silence that filled the room. “If I agree to having her sent to camp, will you watch over her? Can you send one of those- what were they again? Oh! Satyrs. Can you send one of those and make sure they both get to camp safely?”

He didn't have to think. “Yes”.

“And claim her. Maybe not too soon though. I remember when I went to camp people got jealous when their parents would send them letters. I know my camp wasn't a god camp but you know what I mean. I just don't want her to catch unwanted attention”.

“Of course”

“Oh and one more thing. I know I'm asking for a lot but can you give me to the end of the school year. I don't know if she'll want to come back home or if it'll even be safe and-”

“You want time”. You didn't respond but he knew the answer. He knew how hard letting go would be for you and the thought that meeting you was a mistake crossed his mind again. You deserved to have a regular family and a regular husband that you had regular conversations with. Not this.

Thunder rumbled again.

“You have to go” you didn't sound like you wanted him to leave and he didn't want to leave either but he knew he had no choice. He stood up,

“I'll see you again. I promise”

“You've made enough promises, you don't have to do that. You can…” the words seemed like they burned to get out, “you can move on”.

He wanted to argue and say that he'd never truly move on from you. That you were the most memorable mortal he'd been with and he had no plans on leaving you be, but then he realized how selfish that was. Damming you to a life of sitting and waiting until he had time to see you. The thought of you sitting home alone waiting for any sign of him, signs that he wouldn't be able to give as often as you needed made him feel an immense amount of guilt.

“You make me an oath” he started, “I don't know what happens when mortals break an oath they make on the River Styx, so swear on anything that's important to you that you'll find a guy who deserves and appreciates you. Not another guy like before. Not some guy to fill in the empty space in here. I mean a man who will treat you right until you become just a memory”. Knowing he'd never be that man filled him with a burning sensation he couldn't quite explain. Some people would say “I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy” but Ares wasn't like that. He'd only wish this on his worst enemies. Not someone he got into an argument with, or someone he didn't like. Only the enemies that made him spit when he heard their name.

“I swear on our daughter” was all you said and it was all he needed to hear. He didn't give you a kiss or hug you goodbye. It'd make it too hard to leave. He just left. He closed the door behind him like nothing had happened and left you behind.

There was a small part of him that selfishly wanted you to break that oath because that'd mean he'd get to see you again, even if it was only to commit violence. The bigger part of him knew that was selfish. You needed to keep true to that oath, even if it would destroy him to watch you call someone else the love of your life eventually.

This could’ve been a heeheehaha jokey thing but I’m an asshole so here we are. I hope it’s clear that I write requests in the order I get them btw. This isn’t towards the anon, I’m just saying to everyone if a request is taking a hot minute I’m either ill, busy, or working on one that came before yours. I also try to do one requests a day to keep things spread out. Posting all the requests on one day will upset me and my homegirls.

[narcissosbythepool]

@pricegazweek Day 2 - Shotgun

Tags: smoking, shotgunning, discussion of illness and death, pre-relationship (or the liminal space between that and romance)

//

“I don’t think our target is going to show up today.”

Gaz, looking out to the empty street from the window, lowers his binoculars. “No, I don’t think so either,” he admits and sits down on the floor where Price already is located, hiding under the window’s ledge, gun propped up against the wall.

“Tomorrow?” he asks and Price shrugs.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe better to keep watch either way, but I have a hunch.” He sniffles. “And it rarely leads me astray.”

“Ah yeah, the famous hunch,” Gaz rolls his eyes and gets an amused look. Price returns to patting his pocket. His eyes light up as he finds what he wants, a cigar and a lighter, and he lights it with an air of gratitude that only a good nicotine hit can sate. Gaz is suddenly grateful he closed the windows – such an obvious tell would be the most embarrassing to be found out.

They’ve been on the look out for two days now and their target is nowhere in sight. Price assured him this is nothing abnormal – him and MacMillan waited for Zakhaev for three days back in Pripyat, apparently, and Gaz hopes they won’t break that record this time.

Gaz sets his weapon on his lap, muzzle facing away from Price, and starts disassembling it as Price smokes. The smoke puffs in the air like from a great dragon, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“You know,” Gaz says, “there is no safe exposure to secondhand smoke.”

“Yeah?” Price replies, blowing smoke in his direction. Gaz waves it away, holding back a laugh.

“My sister ranted about it to my brother once,” he explains. “Last leave. Told him to stay away from his smoker friends, when they’re out.”

“I’m sure that went over well.”

“I’m sure it did,” Gaz sighs. “Didn’t have the heart to tell her that my boss smokes constantly.”

“Like a chimney,” Price grunts and Gaz can’t fight back the grin anymore.

“I didn’t say it,” he simply quips back and knows that if they were any closer, Price would elbow him for his insolent behavior, like a proper commanding officer.

“Could be worse,” Price says then, inspecting his cigar. “A nasty habit, this one. Started years ago and was never able to stop. So don’t ever start.”

“As if the exposure won’t do it,” Gaz chuckles.

“Well, there are worse ways to go.”

“What, worse than lung cancer?”

“That’ll be my problem, won’t it,” Price drawls and were his Captain any other person, he would have winked.

“Not exactly,” Gaz says, taking out a rag to clean the parts of his gun, hands working as they speak. “It’s even more dangerous to the bystander.”

“Really, now?”

“Heightened risk, same result.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Inflammatory and respiratory effects appear within 60 minutes,” Gaz rattles on, and then turns to look at Price. “Can last up to three hours.”

“Hm.”

“Isn’t it interesting?” Gaz asks, putting the parts of his gun aside. “That it lingers like that?”

“Not just on your clothes,” Price’s eyes rake over his form and it makes him shiver.

“But inside you too,” Gaz confirms. Price blinks slowly and takes another inhale of his cigar.

“That is interesting, Sergeant,” he says, blowing the smoke away this time.

He’s not a stupid man.

Gaz doesn’t know what this reaction means – perhaps it excites him? Knowing he never leaves Gaz’s system, even when they’re apart. That he lingers in Gaz’s work clothes, his fatigues too… He mourns a little when he puts the clothes into the wash, willing the scent to stay – but it always fades away after a wash, unlike the smoke in Gaz’s lungs. It creeps into every part of him – from his lungs to his blood stream, his heart, his brain, envelops him into a deadly embrace from within; a warm sort of burn that doesn’t abate once the light is out. He wonders what it would be like to get it right from the source, not just have a scent memory that takes him back to the backseat of a car, to an office, to a quiet night on a mission. He’s never been a real smoker, but he could try. His fingers itch with the absence.

“Being with you is a little like secondhand smoking, you know,” Gaz blurts out.

“Being?” Price raises a brow and Gaz tries not to flush.

“Working.”

“Go on.”

“Leads to premature death.”

That makes Price laugh out loud, making him cough and cover his mouth with his fist. Gaz grins, willing his palpitating heartbeat to calm down – surely this isn’t the moment that his heart gives up on him, of all places, not on the job and exfil nowhere to be seen.

“You’re right about that,” Price chuckles once he’s recovered from his coughing fit. “Can’t tell which is going to kill you first, serving under me or my smoking.”

“I think we’ll find out,” Gaz shrugs. “Visit me at the hospital?”

“I’ll bring flowers to your grave every week, Sergeant,” Price says almost earnestly. Gaz nearly thanks him, save for the look in his eye. “But a pity. To die for the second-best thing.”

“At least I’d die from a real bullet.”

“You think I’ve tainted you enough by now?” Price muses.

“I think you did it by the trip to Moldova.”

“Like a smoke sauna, that car.”

“You ever been?”

“Nikolai took me once. You’d never know the difference.”

“I think I became a firsthand smoker,” Gaz grumbles, the memory of the stench of the smoke lingering in the car seats still ingrained in his memory.

“Almost like the real thing,” Price says.

His eyes linger on Gaz’s, then move to the stillness of the room. The smoke rises above them, swirling in the low light.

“Would you ever offer me one?”

“One of my cigars? Never.”

“Why is that?”

“Cigarettes suit you better,” Price says, voice low. “Your fingers… More slender than mine. A cigarette would belong there.”

“You’ve clearly thought about it.”

Price gives him a heavy look, straying to his hands – empty, still, aching to reach out.

“Yes.”

Gaz bites his lip. Price’s eyes travel back to his face, the blue of them piercing through his very being.

“Pity I don’t carry any.”

“Secondhand smoke it is, then?”

Gaz weighs the situation for a moment.

Ah, fuck it.

“Won’t hurt to have it straight from the source,” Gaz says, and crawls across the space between them – feeling slightly self-conscious, but it’s dulled by the expectant parting of Price’s lips. When he settles astride Price’s legs, Price meets his eyes – hooded, expectant – and brings the cigar to his lips.

Shotgunning is a delicate art – it has to be deliberate. The smoke, directed from one person’s lips to another, has to be a gentle blow; the inhalation precise. Gaz leans in slowly, chases that sliver of smoke from his lips, inhaling it into his lungs. And he feels it, first hand, the real thing, Price’s hand on his thigh and the other holding out the cigar, to stop the ash from falling on his clothes.

But there’s already a fallout: Gaz hands clutching the straps of Price’s vest, his mouth chasing the alluring smoke from Price’s lips, and when he leans back, it’s only for Price to inhale once more, and to pull him close by the chin.

He wonders which one’s better, the denial or the chase of it? The expectation of it or when it already burns his lungs? He thinks he already has the answer as the smoke turns into the soft press of Price’s lips, when the burning sensation turns into a greedy kiss.

Gaz hopes this will linger, too.

[somber-sapphic]

Oooh Im loving the new prompts!! :)) Anychance of seeing 22A with the ‘Not A Word’ sickie type please? :))

Maybe seeing Nat not being allowed to attend a mission and being pretty annoyed about it? :))

100% Not Sick

Natasha is 100% not sick. She couldn't get sick. That was just not a thing that happened. Until it did.

Hope you like it @goldenempyrean!

Word Count: 1318

-----

“Romanoff, go back to your room, I don’t have time to argue with you right now.” Steve snapped, frowning at the red-nosed assassin. She was quite literally pouting, her typical tough glare replaced by a cute little scowl. You were half smiling, hiding your slight smirk behind your interlaced fingers. 

“Who the hell do you think I am Rogers? You don’t dictate my damn life, I can handle one fucking mission!” She yelled back, her voice barely above a whisper. You could tell that her throat must hurt by the way she talked and the slight tug on the edges of her lips as she swallowed. 

Steve took a step towards her and she naturally did the same, both of them settling into what could be considered a fighting stance. Neither was willing to back down and you couldn’t actually guess who would win. 

Natasha was sick, probably feverish and obviously miserable, but said misery was probably fueling her rage. Steve on the other hand was in tip top shape, well rested and physically unable to contract an illness. 

You could see Tony’s eyes boring into you, he wanted you to intervene, but you really didn’t want to get into this. Plus, you were mildly interested. You were pretty sure that Steve would back down but that would only be because Natasha was sick and he didn’t want to beat up a sick woman. Which the redhead would ultimately see as a challenge and would probably end up doing something stupid. Like attack him stupid. 

“Agent Romanoff, stand down. Go back to your room or I will have you escorted.” You wrinkled your nose at the Captain's words, leaning back in your chair to watch the chaos unfold. After nearly two years of dating the woman you knew better than to step in when she was like this, it would only embarrass her and then she’d fight you on not being sick and it would just end up with Steve and Nat back at each other’s throats. 

“What did you just say to me? You’ll have me escorted? How exactly do you expect that? Who do you honestly think can take me?” She ended her seething rant with a harsh sneeze against her elbow. It sounded gross and you were like 80% sure that it was incredibly contagious. If Cap could get sick, he would have.

“Look Rogers, you worry about you, I’ll worry about me. Right now, I’m worried about catching a villain.” Their faces were inches apart now, Natasha’s glistening red nose practically against Steve’s chin. The height difference was quite amusing. He rolled his eyes and stepped back, falling back into a more relaxed position. 

“That’s what I thought. Y/l/n, come on. We’re going.” She ordered, snapping her fingers at you. If she were in any sort of reasonable mental state you would’ve called her on it, but she was in boss mode. She also hadn’t slept in probably three nights, she was definitely running a fever and her stiff movements indicated that all of limbs hurt. 

You stood, plastering a gentle smile on your face. She stepped away, looking almost like a cornered cat. 

“C’mon love, let's go. I’ll make some tea.” You coaxed, slipping your hand into hers. She sneered at you, eyes widening in panic. You knew that she was new to this, that she hated being sick and she hated showing weakness even more. Now you were in front of the whole team, being watched. Of course, no one was really watching the two of you, but she was still humiliated. 

“Y/n,” She started, her tone warning. You squeezed her hand gently and began to tug her away from the conference room. 

“Just let me.” You dragged her out of the room, ignoring the sounds of protest and her tugging away from you. Normally you’d let her just do her thing, especially when it came to a mission, but there was just no way that you could let this slide. There was a fair chance that Natasha would get herself killed if she went on that mission. 

“Y/n, are you kidding me? One, I’m not sick. Two, I can handle myself!” She grumbled, sounding slightly defeated. You looked back and shrugged, giving her a little smile. 

“Come on, it’ll be nice! Plus, I’m exhausted. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Maybe we could just watch a few movies in bed?” You suggested, pulling her gently into your room. She huffed as she sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her arms over her chest in a show of anger. 

You sat beside her and squeezed her shoulders, leaning over to kiss her neck. She grumbled her unhappiness again and she frowned at the floor, seemingly ready to stab you. There were countless ways that she could kill you just sitting there, but she never would. She loved you too much for that. 

“Please Natty? Just for a little while.” You pleaded, beginning to undo her tight braid. She sniffled quietly and sagged against you, her facade faltering just slightly. You gently removed a few bobby pins and laid a hand on her forehead, humming your disapproval. 

“I’m not-”

“I know honey. Lets get changed into something more comfortable, yeah?” She nodded and put her head on your shoulder, seeming to accept that she wasn’t feeling well. It was like as long as you didn’t say anything she was willing to do what she needed to get better. But there was probably no way that you could get her to take any medicine, that would be a later issue. 

It took a bit of coaxing but you managed to get Natasha into a soft, cotton t-shirt and flannel pants. You weren’t exactly sure why she was so insistent on wearing her uniform, but for some reason she was very angry with your attempts to help her. Which of course, made sense. You had fallen for the most stubborn woman you could find. 

When you were finally both changed and laying down, Natasha had her head against your chest, finally giving in. Her anger had changed to utter misery though you still wouldn’t be saying anything about her illness. You knew better than that. 

“What do you want to watch, love?” You asked, running your fingers through her curly hair. She shrugged and mumbled a response into your shirt, cuddling a little bit closer. You looked down at her, wondering if you’d even need to turn the TV on to get her to fall asleep. 

“How about Parks and Rec?” It was one of her secret comfort shows that only you and Clint knew about. She was supposed to like action movies and sometimes she was a fan of hockey, but she loved a good comedy. She was especially a fan of Ron Swanson. She enjoyed his blunt attitude. 

“M’kay.” She hummed, letting out a deep sigh. You turned on a random episode, the room flickering in soft blue light, but you weren’t interested in the show. All you could focus on was the sleepy redhead laying on your chest, making soft unintelligible sounds. 

“M’not sick.” She said after five minutes, jolting you back into reality. You chuckled quietly and kissed her hairline, unhappy with the fever that you felt radiating from her skin. The next time she woke up you’d get her some medicine.

“Of course not. But even 100% not sick people need to sleep, right?” 

You felt her smile against your skin and you smiled back, entranced by her beauty. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you felt your eyes closing, but you knew that Natasha had fallen asleep long before you did. It wasn’t like you loved your girlfriend being sick, but it was nice to hold her. It was nice to play caretaker instead of the other way around. 

[st-armand]

Pixel Play

( Reposted from @armands-sanctum ) Author’s Note: Request from @blueberry-soda57​ <3 Shout out to all my raccoons in the club, after finishing this I WILL be playing Maplestory, I kinda rushed it but everything i write can get multiple parts so :P

Content Warnings: Pre-established relationship, suggestive, being a basement dweller. Not proofread (yet ill get to it in the morning)

Word Count: 1.3K

Masterlist

Hobie doesn’t like the word ‘Loser’ he feels that insults like that are always based in ableism, and as an autistic person (He’s sensory seeking) very wary of words rooted in ableist histories.

That being said he CHORTLES when you call yourself a ‘Loser Gamer’, he definitely sees why.

Early on in your relationship before he disclosed his identity as Spider-Man, he would text you before and after patrols, like at 4 AM

“Luv you awake?”

“Wanna crash a’ your flat for a bit?”

A beat in time, a few moments, and then a response would be received on his end, sat on the roof of a random building, leaning lazily on the fire escape, mask dripping sweat down his neck.

“K”

“Doors unlocked, busy rn”

Busy..? 

When he’s seen you during the day he has to PHYSICALLY force you to attend events; shows, galleries, demonstrations and protests, and you fight him off like a feral cat being trapped for a spay and neuter.

Your preferred way to spend your day, is sleeping, to the point where you would jump up at 4 PM, haven’t eaten anything or taken your meds. Hobie would watch the hours of the day pass by waiting for you to wake up, like Beth and Mary of Nazareth waiting for the resurrection of Lazarus.

He would take the initiative to get up (Usually 12-1 he’s a late riser too, but he pales in comparison to you) before you, feed your pets and make a quick breakfast or lunch, setting them aside for when you would arise later.

You always wake up in a daze, going in and out of sleep for an hour before fully getting up, and even then you made no plans to go outside and do anything, preferring the isolated 4 walls of your space, a sanctuary in the frenzied world of Earth-138.

In the hours you sleep he admires (snoops around) your space, gingerly looking at the figurines that grace your desks and shelves, animated characters in alternative outfits, and meticulously designed platforms, or looking over your multitudes of gaming consoles.

You don’t let him use them without explicit permission, you definitely don’t want Hobie to mess with your save data, he’s a genius but he never got the chance to be acquainted with gaming in his formative years because he was too busy surviving homelessness.

Hobie’s favorite aspect of your home is your computer setup, Hobie is a genius but he’s always blown away by the determination and time you put into modifying your setup.

Hard drives, Processors, Logic Board strewn about, cables interwoven between each other sloppily, making the small space even smaller and cramped, bed planted right next to your set up so you can wake and be connected onto the Wired as easy it is to breathe. (think the computer setup Lain had towards the end of the anime)

“Ya enjoyin’ yourself in your ‘obbit hole?”

“All connected yeah?”

When he does stagger his way to your place, you’re wide awake, furiously inputting on your keyboard or controller, cursing and hissing into your headset.

Brows furrowed in concentration as you quickly input combos, blocks, grabs.

Maybe you join parties with people on MMOs, your on call with them screaming and sniggering at the actions of the pixels that represent you and your friends, trying to complete obstacles, puzzles, and defeat bosses.

The sounds of your fingers clicking and pressing reverberate the walls from the sheer force, legs lifted up into your lap, in the most uncomfortable posture possible as you ignore the aches in your muscles to get one last game in, one last match, or a few hundred more mobs.

Hobie sits down softly on the bed beside you, watching you intently as you completely disregard his presence (he learns soon that this isn’t on purpose, you're just concentrated on your daily quests and bosses)

When you finally notice there’s something in the space with you, your take a slight glance behind you and scream, eyes not adjusted to the dark room from the searing LEDs of your multiple monitors, your eyes can’t register its Hobie.

“Oy pretty ‘s me, don’t go yellin’ like that someone’s gunna think youre dead”

“Oh fuck Hobie, I thought you were a ghost or something…”

At this point he’s fucking exhausted, and he really wants to snuggle, so he whines like a child trying to get you off the game, or gets an attitude at you when you say, 

“Please Hobie, baby, one more game and I’ll be off” 

cue the sun coming up as your still playing and Hobie knocked out drooling into one of your pillows, wicks splayed out and bent around because he couldn’t be bothered to put on a headscarf or a bonnet. 

(its giving those videos where gfs/wives unplug consoles so their partner pays attention to tasks around the house, except Hobie doesn’t know which chord does what and he doesn’t want to break anything considering it means so much to you.)

Currently in your relationship, Hobie (who can be quite creepy) after patrol likes to take off his heavy docs on your fire-escape, he will watch you game from outside the window, waiting for the perfect opportunity to… SLAM on your window, sending you flying 5 inches into the air, and cowering into your bed, abandoning your game and dying in the process.

After you’ve calmed down, he’ll slink into the room laughing hysterically,

“Shoulda seen your face luv, scared shitless!”

“Hobie the next time you make me die in a game; I’m letting you bleed out on my fire escape.”

You also act as his ‘person in the chair’, keeping track of coordinates, or structural plans to buildings in the city, digging through archives as he brings webbed justice done onto the heads of villains and criminals of all sorts, frantically hacking into CCTV cameras to keep track of his fights and warn him of sneak attacks or other assailants entering the quarrel. Desk littered with snacks, crumbs, and empty soda cans like “Valley Mist”.

Hobie sometimes gets shit from acquaintances at bars or venues who tease him about your appearance.

“Hobie, my bro, they’re just so plain, they just don’t have the look”

Comments like this piss Hobie off so much, some people don’t have the energy to perform beauty, some people just don’t want to and they shouldn’t have to, no matter which category you fall in or between.

Plus regardless he thinks you look adorable, hair strewn about from waking up at 3 PM, a treasure trove of comfortable sweats, adidas track sets, slides and comfy slippers.

But when you do perform beauty, a strike of pleasure ripples down his spine, you can’t blame him, he does forget how good you look sometimes.

“All dolled up, what’s the occasion, yeah?”

“Lookin’ bare leng today”

On days he’s feeling especially needy, he wraps his arms around your torso while playing, pinching and groping at your chest, trying to annoy you enough to the point where you stop playing and give him some kind of attention.

When you don’t he’ll resort to sucking deep purple bruises into your neck and shoulders that has you whimpering and crying softly at the pain, you immediately mute yourself in the game call.

If not that, he’ll stand next to you,

“Lemme ‘ave at it luv, wanna see whats goin’ on in this thing.”

(I play MMOs, Maplestory specifically so this is geared towards that)

You don’t let Hobie play on your characters where your key bindings are specified by class or fighting type, you let him choose his class and make a fresh character, he’ll start playing, frustrated at the boring leveling in the beginning.

He quits cause it’s so time consuming, but you end up grinding his levels a tad after every time he plays so he has new quests and areas to explore.

Regardless he loves his partner no matter what eccentricities they have, he takes every part of the package and values every piece of the puzzle.

[bi-bard]

But I'm in the Business of Losing Your Interest - Robert Chase Imagine (House MD)

Title: But I'm in the Business of Losing Your Interest

Pairing: Robert Chase X Reader

Based On: Come Over

Word Count: 1,013 words

Warning(s): insecurities

Summary: [Season 1] Robert and (Y/n) visit (Y/n)'s parents. Something about being home- about seeing him in their home- brought forward feelings and fears that (Y/n) was certain they had buried.

Author's Note: Hey, look! Kyli wrote a piece about Robert Chase that doesn't involve roasting the shit out of him! It's a damn miracle!

STICK SEASON - NOAH KAHAN WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

-------------------

"Wow."

One word that could hold a thousand meanings based purely on the tone it was said in. I wish I had been better at discerning tone, maybe I would've avoided rambling at awkward times if I was.

Robert was visiting my family for the first time. He had met them before when I invited them out to dinner, but this was the first time he was seeing the house that I had grown up in.

The idea made my chest tight, and I truly couldn't explain why.

"I know it's not a huge place," I said quickly, eyes catching on every part of the house that looked even a bit worn. "And it's kind of in the middle of nowhere. And a bit old. My parents adore it though. They put a lot of care-"

I stopped talking when Robert reached over and grabbed my hand. I looked over at him. He was already grinning at me.

"It's nice," he promised. "Come on. Your parents are waiting for us."

My parents were standing on the porch when we got out of the car. They both walked over to greet us as we got our bags out. My mom and dad hugged me. My mom hugged Robert before my dad reached out to shake his hand. I almost rolled my eyes watching the very firm handshake.

"How was the drive," my mom asked.

"It was gorgeous," Robert commented. "Looked like a postcard."

I grinned. It did comfort me a little that he thought something like that.

"Isn't it," my mom gushed. The beauty of the nature around the house was a major part of why they had bought the property. "Well, we set up (Y/n)'s room. We don't really have the space for a guest room, but if you guys are uncomfortable then we can figure something out."

"I'm sure we'll be fine, Mom," I touched her arm. She nodded.

The two of them decided to stay downstairs to get dinner put together while Robert and I went to put our bags away.

I had to fight the urge to cringe as we walked into my childhood bedroom.

It wasn't embarrassing. Just plain. Boring.

"Look at that," Robert muttered, walking ahead of me as I shut the door. He placed his bag at the foot of my bed as he stared out the window. "You got to grow up with this view?"

I chuckled and nodded, going to place my bag next to his before sitting on the mattress.

I looked around the room.

There was that feeling again. That tightness in my chest.

I had never considered myself boring before. Not before Robert started working with Gregory House and his team.

Robert would come home almost every day with some story about some rare illness popping up, some weird thing his boss had done, or just something that seemed so... interesting.

It made my stories feel like they could never compete.

I tried to keep it from going to my head, but it was getting harder to know that I was the less interesting part of his life.

And now... being here... seeing him here was just amplifying that feeling.

I felt so plain.

The little plain room with the basic decorations. The basic grades and basic clubs. Nothing special through school, nothing special after it. I was meant to be the background character in the story. How long did I have before I had bored Robert so much that he finally left?

"(Y/n)?"

I hummed, blinking at him a few times.

"You alright," he asked. "You look a bit... lost."

I was about to nod. Nod and ignore the problem. All I had to do was say that I was fine and move on.

But I couldn't bring myself to do that.

"Do I bore you?"

"What?"

I almost immediately wanted to forget that the thought of asking had even crossed my mind.

"Why would you ask that," he stepped over. I looked down at my lap. He knelt in front of me. "(Y/n), look at me."

I looked at him albeit reluctantly.

"Why are you asking if you bore me," he asked.

"It's nothing," I mumbled, shaking my head.

"If it's enough to bother you, then it's clearly something."

"It's just..." God, I felt stupid admitting this, "You come home from work, and you talk about your interesting cases and your weird boss and it all just seems so... exciting. I just... I know that I'm not especially interesting. I... I don't know. I just think about it sometimes."

There was a pause. I could see the look in his eyes shifting as what I was saying was starting to sink in.

"I don't want to lose you because you find something or someone more exciting or thrilling."

"Hey," he said. His hand cupped the side of my face. He grinned at me. "First of all, I never could get bored of you. I don't need some exciting twist to know that you will never stop capturing all of my attention. Second of all, I would be in hell if my relationship was anything like my work, so thank you for not being like my boss."

I chuckled.

"I love you," he added. "More than I'd be able to describe."

"I mean... you could try," I muttered. Robert scoffed at me. "I love you too."

He leaned in and kissed me gently. I kissed him back happily, letting my shoulders relax and my mind clear.

I leaned back first, smiling a bit as Robert pressed a few more soft pecks to my lips before relenting and leaning back.

"I could kiss you forever," he mumbled.

I laughed and turned my head away from him.

"I don't think I meant to say that out loud."

That only made me laugh harder.

Maybe I should give myself a little more credit. Maybe I was just a bit more interesting than I let myself believe.

That's what Robert seemed to believe anyway. And who was I to question him on such a thing?

-------------------

Navigation Guide

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[thewildeast]

just completed neutral route! big huge spoilery ramble below summary: definitely recommend playing neutral route because holy shit wow. plus you get some new dialogue and stuff from other characters which is cool

I thought Martlet picking up the determination syringe was an aborted genocide only thing but she had it and i was only level 7...she throws it away of course but it still kinda shocked me. She was already ready to kill Clover if they did anymore violence, even if she changed her mind in the end. And then Flowey just kills her-

Really interesting to me that when Flowey doesn't intervene clover just stays with Toriel. I feel like Clover had a hard life on the surface (based off of Star's couch bringing "unpleasant memories", mainly) I feel like deep down, they wanted comfort. They came down the mountain to find the 5 missing humans but they forgot about that in exchange for Toriel's comfort. A home. They're just a kid. man..

The boss..fuck. I knew it got scary because I accidentally spoiled myself on a few things but wow I was not ready. it really emphasizes the fact that Flowey has complete (not counting the player) control over what happens to clover. Speaking of that, that one scene at the end where Flowey looks directly at the screen..wonder if he realized that him and clover aren't the only ones here. T- DON'T DO THAT CREEPY LAUGH sorry was typing this while watching the credits anyway..

The fight itself was AWESOME. Super creative, the sections where you have to avoid Flowey's vines like Undyne's spears was amazing. The attacks were...creepy as hell Flowey with Humanoid Eyes will stay in my mind for a while. And that's a compliment, the horror factor was nailed here. The battle box lines too. "Clover wants to cry but they don't have eyes" wow! fun! jesus christ. The intermission(?) between the phases. All the other final bosses showed memories of the characters, so it makes sense Flowey would also get those! I'm...not entirely sure what most of it was about besides the part where Asriel first awakens as Flowey ("mom..? dad..?") but holy shit the mountain of dead Floweys was horrifying. Every single reset...damn. Its more likely that Flowey was created a bit before frisk fell, not clover, at least in undertale canon. But still, it really puts into perspective just how many times he died, over and over and over. Plus I'm inserting UTY into my headcanon anyway at this point lmao. oh yeah and then we're in Snowdin! yay it's Martlet! she's speaking slightly weird but I'm sure nothing bad will happen Uh Oh

The second phase is just, really, really good. I didn't expect anything to match Photoshop Flowey but this? Pretty much does it perfectly. i love the different artstyles for every different phase rather than theming around the different souls too. The clay one got me very close to becoming the joker fuck that one

I'm wondering what would've happened if i exited the game at some point, maybe ill redo it later. But yeah, awesome boss, awesome route, definitely go play it yourself. You can just kill like 1 monster and you'll get it i think. ignore the fact that i killed way more than one monster i needed the health ok

[its-my-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 22

Stoicism breaks

@whumpril

Tw: gore and fight

He was a calm person, nice, a man of little words. He kept to himself, but not in an unsympathic overly pride way. It more seemed, that he was fine with himself, not needing to prove anything, nor to himself, neither to the world around.

He was a tall young man, normally build, even though, one could only guess, under his casual, but professional clothes. His long brown hair usually in a ponytail. Even though his boss didn't like it, he had kindy denied to every cut it or speak about this topic ever again. Their normally chatty boss was muzzled, probably for the first time in his career.

He was treating everybody with kindness and respect, he was a calm person, people liked to be around, mostly in silence.

But some days his knuckles were slightly red, not only his female colleagues recognised. The rumours were going from an allergy to bathing himself in bleach. They repeatedly came to the point, that this even-tempered man was working here for 2 years and yet they knew nothing about his personal life.

Stories, situations and impressions were compared. So someone had seen him vanish in the restroom with a sudden nosebleed, another one had too. Maybe he was fatally ill, but he usually looked too healthy. One or both ears looked slightly swallon some days. Those few days, he was wearing his hair open. The frontdesk lady had added, that his nose must have been broken. Somedays his smooth movements seemed a bit sore. Maybe despite the hours, he was probably working one or more other jobs, people discussed. His clothes were fitting for his job, but nothing fancy. Maybe he had a family or was devorced or needed to pay a loan shark or had a bunch for children.

The speculations were piling up, so that colleagues started to throw him hidden looks and paint their own little colorful picture of who this man really was.

Little did they know.

×××

On a fridaynight Freddy went out with his buddy for some beers and watching an event, his friend kept quiet about. It was a tiny door in some backstreet, even going there felt spooky and kind of illegal. Through a hallway and under the critical eyes of a security guy in front of another door, they entered. It was a large room, bright light in the middle, the audiance was gathering around, the rest only dimly lighted. It must have been a few hundred people, happily cheering and chatting. Everything smelled like beer and smoke. Freddy was a bit smaller than the average, so he needed to pass the crowd to see, what was going on and were his buddy had dragged him. Parts of the audiance were shouting, what sounded like encouragement or disappointment.

"What is this?" Freddy asked his buddy, while a beer was put into his hand. The other man just smiled and started to make their way towards the middle of the room. Freddy followed.

×××

The fist had landed between his ribs and pressed all air out of him with a huff, but he was fast enough to tense his abs, so his opponent's fist must hurt like hell too. Blood was rushing in his ears, his head was spinning a bit, being tightly pressed together by the headguard, but couldn't take all the brunt from the hits he had already caught.

He blocked the next swing to his face by raising his left arm. Sweaty skin and tense muscles of both hit hard against each other. His arm felt numb for a brief second. A second too long and the opponent's other fist smacked against the cushion above his jaw right into his right cheek.

The punch hit hard and fast, it felt like his teeth came lose, when his head was painfully smacked to the side. The impact swiped him of his feet. The bloody taste in his mouth was newly refreshed, as he bite down more on the biting piece.

During his fall, he managed to kick away the other man's shin and both ended up on the matt. His shoulder bumped into the ground and disloged a painful grunt. But the motion of the fall gave him enough to roll to his side and take his rival into a chokehold, wrapping his legs around the bigger man's body. The skin above his shin, where he kicked out the man's leg was dark red already. Both were grunting and struggling. Entangled, they wiggled on the floor for a bit.

Usually, his eyes didn't leave the cage during a fight, but the pair of eyes, that was staring at him from the other side of the fency in fear and disbelive got his attention. They were almost at eyelevel.

×××

Freddy's buddy had dragged him right in front of the brightly enlightened cage in the middle of the room. Every step closer, he started to realise, what kind of an event his friend had lead him to. They found a spot right in front of the fence. "THIS! Is bloodsports!" His buddy happily called out, opening his arms and swinging his beer in a gesture to present the picture in front of them.

Two tall man fighting an ugly sport in a cage. He could only see them from the side. One was a bit more muscular, older, his nose bloody. Red in his face and on his naked chest. Both bodys covered in sweat, he could see tense muscles moving under skin. The bigger guy landed a decent punch between the other one's ribs. Freddy almost jackknifed more than the thinner fighter did. Air audibly left the man's lungs and the grunt was carried over the cheering crowd. The following left block, forearm against forearm looked as if both of those arms should have been broken instantly. But they didn't, the impact only made a strong, hurtful sounding 'thud' and they went on.

The next punch to the thinner, defently a bit younger man, made Freddy actually close his eyes refexively. That definitely hurt, his stomach flipped, but he prayed his eyes open again, just to see them both bump painfully hard into the ground.

How did he do that?

This man's ears must be ringing and he must be seeing starts by that strong hit to his face and yet he made the other one fall as well. The matt on the floor didn't look like it was very comfortable at all, or that it could do more, than to stop their fall, as would do the naked floor.

He was sure the smaller fighter was done, when that big fist made his head snap to the side. But now, there on the floor, he got the upper hand again and wrapped his long legs around the guy, that had at least 15 lbs more muscle than him.

Freddy's reservation and fear were pulled back by curiousety and astonishment. Suddenly he realised something familar in the man's face. The headguard was making it hard to see.

Hah, maybe his colleague had a twin-brother, his head joked silently. This man really looked like him, but never could this fighter and this calm, silent, well-balanced man from work.... their eyes met through wire-mesh.

The recognition in the other man's eyes was all what he needed to confirm. Freddy just stared into Andrew's eyes, not believing that this fighter, covered in blood and sweat, holding an even bigger man in a chockhold on the ground, could ever be his colleague from work, professionally dressed, kindly refusing to participate in a lunchbreak with the others. Never!

Andrew's eyes lit up and his lips parted a bit, revealing a bloody biting piece and an disturbingly happy and confident smile as he saw Freddy.

"Holy fucking hell!" Freddy yelled out, as his head finally pitched it together. "RIGHT! He's a beast, isn't he!" His buddy laught at Freddy.

"Yeah and an account."

My masterlist

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep : I don't know the episode numbers anymore I never wrote them down, so from here on out, I'm just going to number up from my previous post. So I guess episode 49

Fun fact I finished this post a week ago and then never pressed send. I can blame this on a lot of things, (work, illness, brain fog, etc) but at this point we just know it's the universe trying to keep me from finishing S5 of my Yugioh reblog, lmao.

So, last we left off, Sad Seto was next to die.

What makes this extra weird is that the other Seto is going to just watch this entire thing happen. He apparently didn't have enough traumatic disassociating while watching his Blue Eyes Wife die, now he will disassociate from watching himself go out in a blaze of glory, too.

Sad Seto's strategy against Zorc is not really what you'd expect out of the #2 of Egypt's court. Although...I guess before everyone biffed it, Seto was more like #5? #6?

He's above Mana I feel. Barely. Mostly because Mana probably isn't the right age to legally work, even in ancient Egypt when the working age is like...if you can walk.

But he was apparently so busy doing Aknadin's taxes that he's decided it's good judgement to throw himself at a 800 ft tall dragon/crotch/man.

for his credit, Sun Tzu's art of war hasn't been written yet.

And Sad Seto realizes his true purpose, which is that he has a smarter, stronger, and more powerful girlfriend (ish.) Which is a running theme on this show, as we all know.

In a bizarre cut that I can't believe they left on US TV...other than I think they couldn't cut this any other way, the penis dragon attached to Zork extended it's neck up to grab Blue eyes by her neck and just fling her into the ground, killing her instantly.

I don't like that the neck can extend longer. I don't like that it's a function of the dragon crotch. They knew. They knew what this looked like. Thanks, I hate it.

Also what an embarrassing way for Seto's past self to die. Truly the hieroglyphs about this event will be wild, and thousands of years later, Grandma Muto probably looked at this event etched into stone and just thought it was weird ancient pervert stuff.

Sorry if you were thinking Sad Seto would recover last minute and realize he's like the most OP person in Yugioh. He instead rotted from his hand and joined the rest of our Egyptian cast in Shadow Hell.

Leaving us with just Mana. And like kudos to her, but how on EARTH did she survive so freakin long!? Like of all of them, I thought Seto would be the last one. Not Mana. Not in a million years did I think it'd be the girl who hid in a pot.

But youknow maybe that's why she survived?

And then Bakura casually walked away from the only Seto who matters. Which is fitting, because if memory serves, that's also what Yami did to Seto for like half of the Battle City tourney.

It's such a weird strange bod on this dragon. It's such a strange bod. He's both got kind of a belly, but also is ripped to shreds. Such a weird bod.

In case you were like "We haven't given Seto enough motivation," we also toss in a few nearly dead brothers just to make sure we have properly traumatized this boy to the point where he'd duel someone who isn't Yugi Muto.

Seto decided magic exists 6 minutes ago, and he's already better at magic than Yugi Muto who's had access to it for YEARS.

Like he learned about magic in a different culture, a different time, a different language, and now he's fighting the final boss.

But it's Seto, so I buy it. He would speedrun his life like this.

That's the dialogue of the show where he says his first words were "neutron blast attack" and youknow...he probably has very few memories of himself as a child since his parents died and his other family put him up for adoption...but he knows his first words?

That, or Seto likes making his brand a reality by making up whatever nonsense it takes to make that brand legit. Which I can also see him doing.

Also please don't look at this foreshortened hand, don't look at it, ignore that this happened.

So thanks to Bakura's weird choice to drag Seto into this universe in the first place, now Bakura has to fight Seto and his 3 blue eyes that would not have existed here otherwise.

++++++ME RANTING ABOUT THE SETO ARC FEEL FREE TO SKIP++++

TBH it kinda makes the whole Sad Seto arc feel kind of like it didn't need to exist. Like this is the Seto fight that matters. This one right here, and although they share a name, it's not with the same guy who fought Zorc at the beginning of this episode.

And like I could add it to a list of problems with this season. But Sad Seto started out so interesting, and then forgot. It was like he only existed to introduce the dragon, and not explain anything at all about the nature of Seto Kaiba we know and love. Like the possession of Aknadin can be a parallel to how Seto was raised following Gozaburo's footsteps, but youknow...that's all old territory.

Like, I wish I had any sort of new growth from the interaction of either of the Seto's together in the same room, much like we've been getting from Yami facing his past self. Yami's been growing a lot, he's been facing his demons, but Seto? Seto's been walking around this desert trying find wifi.

(which like he did find a "wifey" which is almost wifi but wasn't as helpful because she was dead)

The Seto Kaiba who is fighting Bakura right now, is the same exact guy we saw at the end of the last arc against Zeigfried Von Schroeder.

Which means the reason that Seto is now souped up and capable of going up against Bakura isn't because of anything we witnessed here in this arc, but because of the weird horse guy last arc who taught him how to put up a better firewall.

And maybe there was a draft where Seto decides he is a spiritual reincarnation of the Pharaoh of Egypt. Maybe there was a draft where he gained a new ability. Maybe there was a draft where he realized the gravity of what was happening and wanted to save the world.

But it ain't this draft, unfortunately.

Seto is here not because of an internal growth reason, but because he was on a tablet in S2, and we have to know where that plot thread went to have an ending...but the show rewrote what it initially said in S2.

Like in the OG timeline, it was Seto who killed Pharaoh. But here we found out it was actually Aknadin who possessed Seto to kill Pharaoh. (and at some point in that fight, Pharaoh stuck his soul in a box and sealed away Zorc)

Sad Seto was apparently a chill bro the entire time. Just a nice guy who arrested half of Cairo and had a sort-of-girlfriend for about 8 hours before she biffed it.

And I would have been OK with that, if it were more interesting than what we initially thought happened in the past: where we thought it was a kickass Seto launching a coup. But unfortunately, it's not, instead it's a boy who started out powerless, and continued to be powerless despite working in Pharaoh's literal court. He didn't even have the power to not get possessed.

And I am sure there were other drafts, and endings are hard, and the author did get hella hospitalized while he wrote this season, animation is a miracle of many moving parts and budgets, and we were lucky to even get an ending to this show. So I don't want to sound like I'm complaining when there are so many worse directions this show could have gone. I'm just a little surprised it went this direction, mostly.

But say what you will about Yugioh, it doesn't like to be predictable, doesn't it?

+++++++++++++++++++OK I'M DONE++++++++++++++++++++++

Speaking of characters who haven't gained anything from being here, Tristan is no longer possessed!

Tristan begs his apologies and Yugi takes it gracefully. Which means, it's time for the main character of this entire show to finally re-enter the plot.

And they do so, in style.

Y'all I remember being excited about the look and style of extreme sports, but I do not remember this many heelies in the 00's.

Anyway, this is the link to read these in chrono order, you know the drill. See you next time to see yet another girlfriend biff it!

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[house-of-slayterr]

Hi I’m so obsessed with your writing to the point it’s unhealthy🤤❤️ , can I ask you to do please hannibal with an s/o who has covid-19 and had to be isolated due to quarantine. But like with their friend and that friend hannibal hates and jealous of

An: Thank you for bearing with me while this took so long. It's been a crazy few weeks and I have like 6 stories I'm writing that I had to catch up on. But I adore this idea. I kinda want the whole enemy vibe with Hannibal rn, so congrats, I'm your friend now, lol

Quarantine Quarrel:

Work had been rough on you for the past couple of weeks. You'd worked yourself to the bone, and what did you get for it? Yelled at by your boss for getting sick, when it was a customer's fault in the first place. The woman refused t wear a mask, and you tried to get her to put it on, but she refused to leave. And now you were paying the price for it. You hated your job.

So now you had to stay home, which would have been fine and all, but two weeks of isolation wasn't good for anyone. But hey, at least you had your roommate. They were kind, just a little bit of a goofball. But they were sick too, so neither of you could really leave the house for necessities.

"Fang, it's too hot in here!" You whined from your bedroom.

You heard a soft chuckle as your door was pushed open.

"Well maybe if you took the fan out of the box that I got you..."

"Yeah, yeah, you were right, can you do it for me?"

"Only because I love you."

They got to work unboxing your fan and putting it together to the best of their ability. You frowned when they left the room, but they came back with a cold washcloth and placed it on your head.

"Shoot me a text when that gets warm if you want to cool off faster you can put it on the back of your neck."

"How are you so good at this?"

"Hello, you're talking to the resident sick kid, being horribly ill is kinda my only skill." They joked. "Get some rest, your not going to beat this by fighting it. And the longer you're sick with covid, the less I can hang out around you."

"I know, I miss movie night."

"Maybe if we sit on opposite ends of the living room..."

They closed the door behind them and sauntered off to their own room for a nap. You were both woken a few hours later by a gentle knock on the door. Fang watched you peek your head out of your room, and you looked miserable.

"I've got it, you just stay over there with your germs."

You stuck your tongue out at them, before breaking into a coughing fit that made them frown.

"Very mature."

"You love me and my germs." They rolled their eyes before moving to answer the door.

"Look, if you're here for Y/N, they're very sick," they stated.

Nobody ever came to the apartment for them, so it was unlikely someone would start now. They finally looked up to see who it was, but they didn't really need to. The Armani loafers were more than enough to tell them who it was.

"Hello, Hannibal."

Hannibal knew t was rude, but he chose not to acknowledge their hello, it wasn't genuine anyway.

"I am aware of that, Frances, that's why I brought soup and mediation."

He lifted the neatly packed reusable bag for emphasis. He didn't need to ask to come in, because they just stepped aside. They knew you would be mad if they slammed the door in his face. Hannibal swiftly made his way to the kitchen and began unpacking. They watched curiously.

"You know, when most people say they brought soup, they've already made it beforehand."

"It will taste better fresh, not that you know much about taste."

"At least I dont week tacky overpriced Italian loafer in someone else's house. Isn't your whole stick like, heating the rude or some bullshit, take your shoes off, my guy."

"I'm not 'your guy', I wasn't aware that was a rule Y/N cared about."

He stepped away from the food and began to take off his shoes.

"Yeah well, we're trying to cut down on outside germs. Considering you stomp around at crime scenes all day, I'm sure your shoes aren't the cleanest."

He growled under his breath at this.

"I'm quite positive I've seen William in here with his boots on."

They scoffed and left the kitchen, not wanting to be in his presence anymore. They knocked on your door and opened it when you gave a groan in response.

"Your lovesick savant is here." they teased.

Your eyes light up in a way they hadn't seen all week. You rolled your eyes.

"Hey, hey, what's with the enthusiastic get-up, you're still sick, Take it slow, I'm sure he's not leaving even if I want him to."

"Why do you hate him?" "I dont. He hates me. I'm just reciprocating."

It was your turn to let out a dry laugh.

"You, you smell like my grandmother's left toe, you go shower, He's making you soup so he'll be distracted in the kitchen."

"I do not smell that-" You took a whiff of yourself and cringed, "ok maybe I do."

"I'll toss the sheets in the wash since you now have this miraculous strength to get out of bed." they laughed.

"You're the best."

"I know. And I'll try to play nice while he's here. Our bickering might give you a headache."

"'I'd-" "Give me a hug if it weren't for my shit immune system... I know. Now go get cleaned up."

As you showered, they cleaned up the room a bit and left a glass of ice water on your nightstand. Before going back into the living room and watching Hanibal finish cooking.

"Don't suppose I'll be able to have any soup."

"It would be rude not to offer any. You're sick too after all."

"I'm always sick."

"Then consider this a special occasion."

"Oh I will don't worry, I'll take it to my room. You and Y/N will have your alone time. Though I'll tell you, they aren't as well off as they'll pretend to be. That's all for your sake."

He sighed heavily.

"I've asked them to stop doing that, it's a-" "Trauma response, I know. Nobody's friends with me unless they're a little screwy in the brain box. Try harder. I know they aren't your patient, but you do pretend to care about them."

"Do not presume I'm pretending."

They chuckled.

"Oh dear god, the doctors actually fell in love. How cute, is this whole house husband act just a glimpse into their future?"

"Why are you so bitter? Nobody ever fell in love with you?"

"I'm not your patient Doctor Lecter, do not psychoanalyse me. I'm not bitter, I'm protective. They're my only friend, and if you hurt them..." They pulled him close by the colour, "You're going to end up more deranged than one of your little victims. Because unlike you, I don't aim to kill, just maim. Like what you've been slowly doing to poor Willam over the years."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"For a manipulative bastard, you're a shit liar." They sighed. "That's how I know you love them, and I won't breathe a word of it to anyone. It would break them if they found out, at least if they weren't eased into it. But Hurt them, your little escapades as the ripper will be a distant memory."

"Noted."

You turned to the side,

"Welcome to the land of the living." You joked.

They cleaned up nice for barely having been able to keep down food the past few days. The look in Hannibal's eyes told Fang everything they needed to know. Hannibal really did love you, and it wasn't some sick obsession.

"You too kids have fun. Text me if you need anything." They excused themself.

"You look lovely." He breathed out.

"I look like road kill."

He winced at the thought of comparing you to something so lowly.

"We should eat, you'll need it to feel better."

"You always do take good care of me."

"Until the day you die mijn liefje"

He kissed the top of your head, not caring one bit if he got sick. You were worth it in his eyes. Hannibal would do anything you asked of him, even stop killing if it came down to it. All he needed was you, to fill that void he'd be endlessly trying to fill forever.

Dutch: My Sweetheart

[hellafluff]

Currently obsessively thinking about a silent hill from Mary's perspective. Starting in the hospital, the nurses replaced with doctors, faces blacked out except for white shiny gnashing teeth. She only has in her pockets a note written on hotel stationary that says I'm Sorry.

Escaping and meeting a young man, cute and a lil awkward, who says you look a lot like his girlfriend Maria, and shes missing too? Can we look for her together?

Hes... sweet, a bit quiet. He gets very close to Mary often, pushes her boundaries, but this is all weird and strange and maybe hes just scared. When she mentions it, however, he makes a rude remark abt Just Wanting To Help Her but backs off.

They get seperated when the Red Pyramid Thing, unchanged in this version, comes and attacks them both, but chooses to persue him.

Laura is still there, and when Mary and her meet they cling together. She talks about an awful, ugly man she met earlier, and to watch out for him. She helps guide Mary through a maze like area before the Other World sets in and separates them.

The monsters in Mary's Silent Hill are almost all larger then her, and many masculine in appearance. They attack her head, try and choke her. Certain ones cough and gasp, arms thrashing wildly and thrashing on the floor when knocked down. Some seems to have exposed, black lungs that stutter to breathe. If Angela and Eddie are the same in this version, then their boss fights remain the same. The Abstract Daddy just as horrifying to Mary as it is to Angela.

Every reunion with the man, hes different. Less nice, more haunted looking. He starts to call her Maria, and barely acknowledges her if she corrects him. Following his advice leads to darker and more dangerous areas. The Red Pyramid keeps coming and chasing him away, but shes always collateral damage when that happens.

Eventually, she makes it to the hotel. Hes waiting for her in the hotel room, haggard, almost unrecognizable from the man he was when they first met. He has a monologue about how she's been sick, and hes been trying his best to be there for her. She doesnt understand, she doesnt know him, shes NOT Maria! She never will be. She starts coughing.

He makes to leave but at the last second turns, and hes a monster now. Large, fleshy, imposing, always trying to suffocate her under thick hands. Upon his defeat, two Red Pyramids arrive and stab at the dying thing over and over until finally impaling themselves.

There are different endings still. She remembers her disease, and her murder, in most of them. In the best ending she leaves the town with Laura, likely still ill, but alive again. In one of the worst, she wakes up in the trunk of a car, as water begins seeping in.

[grimxark]

Ok. Part 3 earthspark was so incredibly disappointing. I feel so sad about it because it’s such a promising show.

I kind of ranted abt this to my friend for like an hour as soon as we finished watching but here’s some of my criticism which I may add on to. Or not

Warning for Earthspark s1 p3 spoilers and overall negativity. So sorry!

1. The writing of this part was sooo terrible. So many plotholes so much drama and so much cringe dialogue. I want to give it slack for being a children’s show but! There’s so much here that’s just senseless. I can excuse cringe dialogue but some of it is back to back to back. Like holy shit

2. Hate what they did to Karen. She was this malevolent evil that was being hinted and teased since part 1 and she amounted to literally nothing. She had no motives other than being racist, none that we know of. Maybe her parents died idfc but there are no real motives that she ever makes outright known. And she was being hinted to being this final boss type. Her death had no impact. It felt like a “oh look this is a child’s show turned dark”. Her death promised everything and it delivered nothing.

3. The last 3? Episodes where Twitch take charge feel apocalyptic and it was nice. Twitch and her older sister curse. The last one standing. The one bearing the weight of the family, having all that responsibility because wether you want it or not she is the older sister of the group. She watches everyone she loves simply disappear. She goes through so much trouble and so many plans and then thrash dies protecting her (which doesn’t make sense?? ill go onto this later). So, after she goes through all that trouble, the humans wake up and fix everything in the blink of an eye. and it undoes all this effort and character thrown into Twitch because she isnt the one who finds a way to fix it. it makes the last 3 episodes totally meaningless.

4. how would Thrash's body protect her from the blast. they were closest, and none of the others were protected the same way despite being in close proximity. why did the terrans even get affected by the blast? theyre not energon based. its like, the main plot of the show.

5. mandroid coming in and being like "interesting! for you ive been gone for a day, but under my calculations ive been gone… a year." was funny as hell. why a year?? why not one hundred. or at least fifty. as a lone human he would NOT have been able to convince the sharkticons in a year. and against the quintessons? and all those bodily changes? its so funny how stupidly underwhelming that time is.

6. Robbie's death was stupid. he does a green lantern oath and power up then still loses against megatron (bc its megatron) and then dies and gets revived. theres no shock, you know hell come back. i hoped everyone going "somethings wrong" meant we were going to get a "he died and came back wrong" ordeal but i guess i was expecting too much. also wasnt he dying in one episode. he said "its getting worse" and then he was fine

7. this entire part feels sooo odd to me with the inconsistencies, i wonder if the writers strike has anything to do with it. it almost feels so random. like on the same episode where robbie dies— why were they like "is that the real megatron?" while being scared as if they dont know megatron as a good guy. why would you be scared its the real megatron.

8. final fight felt so rushed. this whole part felt rushed. i wonder if there were budget cuts or if they used their whole budget on the first half of the season.

9. ill say it. maybe you don’t agree with me but. So much of it feels like fanservice. The starscream episode… why would Hashtag be the one to relate to Screamer? Mind control isn’t quite the same as constant abuse. And the entire episode relied a lot on watchers knowing what that relationship was like. In knowing what Starscream and Megatron are like. If you don’t know anything, it just feels odd. Even as a g1 inspired show, where Starscream and Megatron are awful to each other in damn near equal measures. It was a nice episode, I really enjoyed it, but there should’ve been more build up to that.

10. So many of the deleted scenes provide an extra feeling that was missing from the show. I’m really sad at how much potential this show has and how the entirety of parts 1 and 2 were amazing and built up so much and part 3 was just a huge let down with so many inconsistencies and questions left unanswered right after being brought up.

11.

[blysse-and-blunder]

In lieu of a making a comeback

11:45pm Sunday, June 18, 2023

Went through my drafts folder today, scrolling quickly past all the posts I’ve saved for when I’ve finally finished succession and found that the last time I drafted a commonplace book post was back in early May? I may post that one later—it’s a bit of a time capsule now, and isn’t even fully finished (hence why I saved it rather than posting). but rather than wait for perfection—my lesson of the year it seems—I’ll dash off a short one here. for my own entertainment, which of course is the point.

[no read more on mobile; scroll or press J to skip]

Reading just started victoria goddard’s bee sting cake, the second book in the greenwing & dart series. jemis’ narrative voice sounds a little too much like fitzroy’s — exacerbating my prejudice against first-person narration where the pov character just kinda sounds like the author’s mouthpiece—but seeing more of ragnor bella, this area of the twelve kingdoms, these references to the Interim and the Last Emperor, remains delightful. Also about 80% of the way through ursula k. le guin’s a wizard of earthsea for the very first time, which has been a slow because I’m absolutely savoring it. one of those books that feels like it’s in conversation with Tolkien but goes about ‘let’s make magic literary’ in a totally different way.

watching the aforementioned succession. @hematiterings and I were doing a rewatch (for me; her first time) and we have now gotten up to season 4 episode 3, You Know the One, which means that there’s only one more episode before I’m in new territory. it’s been a really rewarding rewatch, even as I’ve been doing laptop work the whole time—I’m understanding characters’ relationships and the stakes of different decisions and events so much better than I did the first time.

listening for some reason this week and last I have not been able to get enough of Hildegard von Blingen’s bardcore covers. Specifically the cover of taylor swift’s willow, which is not a song I knew, cared about, or really even noticed before now? But it the bardcore cover elevates it so well? hildegard’s voice is so lovely? one of those sopranos I usually don’t quite believe are real—just a pleasure to listen to. bad romance and holding out for a hero have been on repeat as well, and pumped up kicks (buskin boots!) is so much more interesting than the original, but willow has been the one I actively searched by name.

playing d+d campaign one tonight for the first time since FEBRUARY. it was good! we laughed! R tried to seduce a jaguar! we might be starting a schism in a fantasy meso-american religion or possibly playing the ball game to avoid that! we won’t be able to play again until late July, early august! The real boss fight is—has always been—scheduling.

making look at this dining room chair I glued back together.

No after pictures yet but it was clamped for a few days and has now been back in use with no ill effects since…gosh, last weekend? so we’ll count that as a win.

working on between finishing my most recent slog of grading (32 review assignments, which I spent waaaaaay too long on out of an anxiety of needin to help them revise for their final portfolios) and the next round of grading (final exams for 385 are due…thursday, possibly? and portfolios Friday, though I expect I get many either late or with extension requests, my fault entirely), I think I have to write at least one job app for June 30 and. maybe try to slap some new stuff into ch 2. or conference paper? hm.