Tumgik
#yes I am very late to the party to this game
nyxpheros · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Hannddss
77 notes · View notes
obessivedork · 8 months
Text
Was.... that supposed to be the end of FO4? 😐 Like once you've blown up the Institute you get this random nostalgic slideshow that has nothing to do with ANYTHING and that's it? You beat the game! Good for you! But we'll place you back into the world to keep playing I fucking guess? What's going to happen to your friends and The Commonwealth with all the decisions you made?😐 Don't ask us! Not like we're going to make an RPG with the infamous RPG IP, that would be silly!
17 notes · View notes
yukichouji · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
What can I say, this ship basically sails itself.
66 notes · View notes
du-garm · 1 year
Text
thinking about getting elder scrolls online, does anyone have any genuine thoughts about it in the year 2023?
10 notes · View notes
theoldsports · 10 months
Text
married.
Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words
alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3
Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.
As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.
[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.
And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.
“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.
[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.
“No problem.”
[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.
After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.
“I don’t see how that’s your business.”
“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”
“Dry cleaner’s.”
Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.
[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.
“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”
“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.
The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.
“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”
“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”
“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”
“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”
“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?
[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.
She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.
Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.
After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.
The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.
Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.
“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.
Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.
[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”
“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.
[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.
“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”
[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.
It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”
Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.
“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”
“Hm?”
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.
“Yes.”
“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.
“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”
“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.
“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”
Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.
They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”
“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”
[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”
“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.
When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”
The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.
“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.
“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”
“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”
“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”
“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.
Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”
“If I must.” [Y/N] said.
With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.
Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.
After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.
Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”
Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.
[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”
“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.
“Junkie is such a strong word…”
“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.
“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.
Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.
Fuck.
Her parents.
[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.
“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.
Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”
“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.
[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.
“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“
[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.
Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.
“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.
“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.
“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.
“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.
“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”
[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”
“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”
“Absolutely and unendingly.”
“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”
“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.
“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.
“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.
“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.
A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.
“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.
Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.
“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”
“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.
The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”
“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”
Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.
“And?”
“No reason, just making conversation.”
Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”
“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.
“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”
This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”
“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Blowjob.”
“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.
“What?”
In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.
“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.
“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”
“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“
“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”
“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”
“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”
[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.
“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.
“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”
He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.
“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.
[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.
[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.
“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.
More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”
[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.
Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.
“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.
“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“How many men have had you behind my back?”
It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.
[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.
That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.
“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“
Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”
“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.
Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.
“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“
“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.
Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.
Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.
Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.
[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”
“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.
[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.
Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.
“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”
“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”
“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.
“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.
“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”
PART II HERE
TAGLIST:
@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt
sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru
2K notes · View notes
Text
Barnaby facts (confirmed by the devs)
Hello! Since I was bored and it's making me so happy to see Barnaby getting so much love lately, I've decided to collect all the info I have about him! I most likely missed something, so if you have info I haven't put here, or got wrong, let me know, ok? ^^
Anyhoo, here we go! **}
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
- Barnaby, despite his name, is not a barn owl. He's actually a long eared owl.
- Barnaby isn't his real name; he used to have a different one, back in his alive days. One of the drawings featuring him has him surrounded by many names starting with "B".
- Said illustration has "Who am I?" hidden among the names and words such as "Where" and "Help", hinting at something linked to his identity is torturing him.
- It's been stated that Barnaby is the way he is because of a dangerous experiment that corrupted then killed him, changing him completely as a result.
- Barnaby is asexual homoromantic, and is genderfluid: while he goes primarly by "he/him", he accepts any pronoun.
- He considers his Barnaboos as his "little pretties", and often offers help or advice if they need it; of course, his help may not be as helpful as he believes...
- He hates cheesecake.
- He's not a fan of rootbeer neither; he will serve it in his parties, but he personally won't drink it.
- His favorite food is eye scream, and favorite Halloween treat are caramel apples.
- As for ice cream, his favorite flavor is Strawberry Shortcake.
- Speaking of food, yeah, he doesn't need to eat, nor sleep. But still likes doing it anyway.
- Barnaby is a confirmed sleepyhead. He naps a lot, but never in an ordinary position, or in his bed; he tends to sleep in various gravity bending position, especially upside down.
- Meaning, yes, when Billie comes to steal his gem, he was sleeping!
- And when he sleeps, he apparently snores and hoots.
- While hugging him would result in a kill from him, Ash confirmed Barnaby is a hugger! Hugging him would still involve him squeezing or stabbing you to death, tho'. And he'd feel both soft and slimy to the touch.
- Barnaby is around 10-11ft tall, and with his size-shifting abilities, he can be any height he wants; when he was alive tho', he's as tall as Aristotle, more or less.
- He doesn't need glasses anymore, but sometimes will wear them because they make him look smart. They also tend to follow the eyes' movements.
- Barnaby is very emotional: while it won't stop him from trying to kill you, he will cry if he sees you cry. Ironically, he would comfort you until you feel better. Then he'll kill you.
- It's been confirmed that Barnaby's biggest fear has "already come true".
- His tears are orange, just like his eyes.
- Barnaby is not one to open his heart easily, but the moment he does, there's many ways to reach it. He's quite romantic, tho' not in the usual way: if you gave him a dead rat, he'd consider it a very romantic gesture!
- It's been stated he doesn't have a partner now, but in life, "maybe".
- When it comes to children, it's been confirmed he'd be the best caregiver alongside Dutch, althought for him "it's complicated".
- He apparently had a child of his own, if the picture posted about him during "Father's Day" is any indication. What happened to the little one hasn't been revealed yet.
- Apparently he's the least judgemental character in BBU!
- If he had a TV, it'd be old timey, and he'd watch something really random. Like ducks.
- Barnaby loves small critters; Ash specifically mentions they always linked him with guinea pigs. And indeed, Barnaby had a science guinea pig co-worker once, that turned into an actual guinea pig because of a reckless experiment, and he took care of them.
- He's able to control reality; it's unclear if it's his gem's doing, or his magic power as a ghost.
- In any case, he's now the most powerful character in the game
- Back in his alive days, he was a magic researcher and scientist.
- He actually owned the gem before he turned into a ghost. He even experimented on it, and it's suggested that actually sealed his fate.
- A lot of songs from Oingo Boingo and Lemon Demon fit him: Ash specifically mentioned "Weird Science" as really "Barnabycore"
- Barnaby is autistic: he stims by hooting and flapping his wings when he's excited.
- When he's scared or nervous, he tends to cover himself with his wings.
- Katie said that, if he were a candy, he'd be a sour blueberry.
- Barnaby lives in his own dimension, with his own mansion and everything. And he can travel between realities. Although one comment from Katie suggests he's trapped in there, but it's too early to say for sure.
- According to the devs, he was inspired by Weird Al Yankovic, Lewis from Mystery Skulls and Discord from MLP.
- No, he wasn't inspired by Snatcher, since the development of BBU has lasted longer than A Hat in Time. The two of them canonically know each other tho': only problem is, Snatcher hates Barnaby's guts and finds him too clingy, while the owl adores him.
- He canonically knows Wally Darling from "Welcome Home" and Kira from "Far Fetched" too, since he can travel between realities.
- Barnaby has his guests come to his home by portals that pop just below them. He apparently has kidnapped people before, every once in a while.
- He'd get along well with Dutch.
- It's left vague whether he knows Fantoccio or not.
- He actually has never met Arthur nor Aristotle before the game.
- In any case, he'd find Aristotle really funny, and wouldn't take them seriously.
-- Barnaby is aware of the player, and can break the 4th wall. And that's why only he can use Twitter.
- Whenever he writes on Twitter, hE WRiTSE LIkE THIS!!!
- Barnaby is REALLY mischeavous, and finds no problem in cheating in games. But if YOU cheat, then he gets ticked off.
- This suggests he's also a sore loser.
- Judging by his expression in the cutscene, he doesn't like being interrupted.
- It's been confirmed he smells like meldew. :P
- He could fake glitching out, then attack the moment you come to check out what's going on with him.
- He HATES party crashers. Also scarecrows: not good for conversations. And he's not interested in their crops.
- He can play the organ: Katie even suggested that if you hear it in the background of his chapter, that's him playing it.
- He was a young prodigy, back when he was alive!
- Don't be fooled by his goofy antics: he's very smart, still loves making experiments and can speak a lot of languages.
- Ironically, he hates skulls: he finds them icky.
- He was 25-26 when he died; he's been dead for 100+ years.
- Time is very important for him: that's why there's so many clocks in his parlor. It's been suggested he sees partying as a way to keep track with time.
- Despite that, Barnaby himself in the contest video has briefly stated he tends to forget what year it is.
- There's tons of pictures in his manor: all of them depict him, suggesting he's good at painting.
- Katie has noted that Barnaby "remembers everything". When asked if there's something he'd rather forget, they stated that "what he wants and what he needs are very different things".
- His family is "infinite", apparently. Then again, one of his very early descriptions stated he's got no friends nor family to speak about...
- He's been described as "self interested"
- When asked which character had the most trauma, without giving hints about being traumatized, Katie confirmed Barnaby as the answer, even stating his story makes them the saddest, alongside Fanto's.
- His favorite color is pink!
- He can change himself into lots of animals, and can even clone himself!
- When asked if he can talk to his alive self, Katie said it's "technically possible".
- Back when he was alive, he was noted as a dork and a hardworker, so much so he'd even pull one-nighters before making speeches for his research. Katie jokingly suggested that's why he parties so much: it's to make up for lost time!
- He had a different way of speaking, back when he was alive. And his icks were probably different as well.
- When he gets overwhelmed, he has a shutdown, and goes completely silent.
- At early stages, Barnaby was supposed to be a bug.
- The moment his design as a ghost was chosen, he went through a lot of palette options, like a pale blue color like he came from "The Haunted Mansion", or all colorful like "Dia de los Muertos". Ultimately they settled for his currently shadowy look because, not only it's easier to animate, it was in line with his backstory.
- Barnaby can melt. It's still unclear what triggers such a reaction, but some pictures hint that it's tied to his psychological state.
- Barnaby has been noted that he can talk fancy, but he's not eloquent.
- His favorite dance is the charleston!
- Ash has stated that in the game he is going to be depicted doing something similiar to "singing himself to sleep".
- Apparently he still makes pellets from his mouth. Dead or not, he's still an owl.
- He often puts emphasis on words, sometimes even making his bowtie spin.
- In the latest Twitter post featuring him, when you decode the garbled message, you can read: "Barnaby lies Along in his thoughts, Resting On the floor Neglected". Not only this hints at his turmoil, it also hides the word "BARON". It's unclear if it's his name, a title he possessed, or someone or thing else entirely connected to him.
- He loves recieving scretches on his head.
- Barnaby can cook, but he'll more often than not leave that to the Barnaboos.
- He's not that interested in gardening, even tho' he owns a greenhouse.
- He'd enjoy playing "Luigi's Mansion"!
- In Super Smash Bros. he'd main Meta Knight, even relating to him.
- He'd happily accept smoochies, apparently!
- His favorite party game is "Pin the tail on the owl".
- If you are his friend, he'd consider it even more of a reason to stay in the manor and never leave!
- He has claimed that he's used to give himself self love and compliments, since no one else does it. That, and his tendency to ask others for hugs or if they need a hug to calm down, suggests he's affection starved.
- He tends to react to compliments from fans by smiling bashfully, or happily shouting that he's popular.
- Katie stated that his favorite movie would be something unexpected, like "Marnie & Me" or "Up".
- Barnaby can see everything from the eyes of the plushies that look like him. So, if you bought one... watch out...
- Among his early designs, he also looked like a completely different owl, tall and austere looking, who was the guardian of the forest. It was changed because the devs wanted a goofy boss that could stand out among the others.
- Having said that, it seems Barnaby was the last boss to be officially revealed, and initially the game only had Elaine, Dutch and Fantoccio as the main bosses.
- Barnaby LOVES puns. A good deal of the lines he says when you get defeated in his chase contain a pun.
- You try being slick by stating you want to die of old age? Too bad: Barnaby will make you age rapidly. Despite that, Katie confirmed he doesn't have time related powers...
- Katie and Ash confirmed Barnaby can fly. And such a sight is apparently really hilarious.
- Barnaby loves shiny trinkets: if he sees a sparkly thread, he'll fixate on it and will follow its movements. It's like with a cat following a laser.
- Barnaby has teeth; they're orange and sharp, and come out when he's ticked off, or especially devious.
- When he was alive, he only used he/him pronouns. He became comfortable with all pronouns after he died. He's always been interested in men.
- This goes without saying, but still: he operates on cartoon logic. He can use both his wings AND his feet as hands. Even both feet can act as hands, even when they appear off camera. How? Because it's Barnaby and he can do anything he sets his mind into!
581 notes · View notes
pointycorgiears · 17 days
Text
When Cross Guild was formed, Crocodile failed to take into account how certain days were going to go. As in, this day. His birthday. He didn't know how, but Buggy had found out what day it landed on, and there was no escaping the consequences behind that.
Buggy was a clown after all. And, as the apparent Boss Clown around here, he was required (not really) to throw a birthday party for Crocodile.
By the time Crocodile realized what was happening, he tried to put a stop to it. It was too late though. Buggy had an underground influence that rivaled Crocodile's own, and the party was pretty much set. All preparations had already been made and there was no going back. The entire island was coming.
Well, Crocodile decided for himself that he wouldn't go. Everyone was going to be drunk off their asses anyway, it's not like they would notice.
Except for a few keen-eyed individuals.
Mihawk and his boy, the Seraphim child, had been working in the kitchen all day. No doubt Mihawk was cooking up something just for Crocodile, since the Cross Guild chefs would be handling the majority of the party's food. Everytime Talon passed by his office door, the boy would glance at him with a knowing smile. This would happen every few hours.
Crocodile could already picture the scathing, disappointed, and murderous glare from Mihawk if he did not at least show up to try whatever it was they were making. He thought about just hiding out somewhere on the island until the party ended, but Talon was just as much a hunter as his father, and that theoretical game of hide and seek would be over before Crocodile could get comfortable in his hideout.
So it seemed after all that Crocodile would be going to his own birthday party. He sighed and sunk back in his chair behind his desk, rubbing his temple. It was for appearances, he told himself. Just appearances. Like any other bothersome business meeting, at least he could decide that he was not going to enjoy it.
Crocodile glance over at the wall from his chair. The clock said 4:30. Evening shenanigans around here usually started at five. He was out of precious quiet, solitary time. He shut his eyes and tried not to dread what was coming.
Biddabiddabidda...
Crocodile sat up and stared at the transponder snail on the corner of his desk. He wasn't expecting any business or calls, so who could possibly be calling this late?
Maybe he finally had a distraction. Maybe this would be his salvation.
He picked up the receiver and the snail clicked the connection. "Yes?" he answered in a purposefully gruff voice.
There was some shuffling sounds on the other end. "Uhhh....hello?"
Crocodile almost dropped the receiver. No, that wasn't... "Is that really y-"
"Crocodile! Hey! Happy Birthday!"
"...Straw Hat? How did you get this number?"
More shuffling the background, until the other seemed to sit still. "Robin gave it to me! She said today's your birthday!"
Robin. "Why are you calling me, Straw Hat?"
"To tell you Happy Birthday, dummy!"
Crocodile was completely thrown for a loop. He resisted asking why again and fell back into the familiar safety of his dealing with business tone. "What is it you want, Straw Hat? I'm a very busy man. If it's Emperor business, you're going to have to talk to Buggy and that's a completely different number, which I'm not giving to you because I am not that clown's secretary."
"Hahahaha! You're funny!"
Crocodile was losing his patience. "Lu-" he caught himself, "Straw Hat. I appreciate the call, but what do you want?"
"Hey Croc," the other began, and Crocodile noticed the sudden shift in tone,"Jinbe told me what you did that day, at Marineford, and well, I never got to say thank you. You really saved us both."
There was a beat of silence before Crocodile responded. "Heh, you're welcome. Don't expect me to do it again, you brat." And please don't ask me why I did it...
Thankfully, another quick laugh told Crocodile the seriousness of their conversation was gone. "Heeheehee! You're a pretty neat guy after all, Croc! I hope we get to face each other again someday!"
"Heh, me too kid."
"You bet on it!" was the excited reply.
"It's good to hear your voice," Crocodile said before he could stop himself.
"Really? Why-Oh!" There was some shouting in the background. "I gotta go! It's time to eat! Happy Birthday Croc!"
"Thanks, Straw Hat."
"Bye Wani!"
The line clicked as it disconnected. Crocodile sat there frozen from those parting words. He suddenly remembered a man with long, wild hair joyfully waving at him from the deck of a ship. "Bye Wani! I'll see you soon! I love you!"
He set the receiver down.
He pushed that memory away, back to where it belonged with all the others. He leaned back in his chair and drew a deep breath. His cigar was currently out of reach, but he didn't bother lifting it from the corner of the desk with a tendril of sand. The old memory was locked away again, but the new memory of Luffy remained fresh in his mind. His voice was young and full of energy. It sounded so alive.
It was direct, like Dragon.
It had a hint gravel, like him.
Crocodile smirked to himself. At least that was quite the birthday surprise. He sat up in his chair, straight. He felt jittery. Like the day had just started, even though the clock now read 4:50. It would be getting dark outside soon, but he felt like a beam of sunlight had awoken him bright and early.
He was alert. He was hungry.
He tried not to think too hard about why his mood changed.
Just as he got up from the chair and began stretching his legs, Talon fluttered past his office door again. The little clone poked his head in this time, eyes bright. "Are you ready to eat!? Come see what we made for you!"
No sooner did the boy take off, did Mihawk appear carrying a silver tray and eyeing Crocodile expectantly. He didn't have too much time to frown though, as Crocodile headed for the door.
"You are required upstairs, per Buggy's orders," Mihawk said.
"I know, I know," Crocodile huffed. "Let's get this over with then." He knew Mihawk caught the small smile on his face as he brushed past him.
"Are we finally in a good mood today?" the swordsman asked, following behind.
"As good as it's going to get. Now let's go see what you cooked up for me before I change my mind."
He was sure Mihawk noticed the spring in his step too.
86 notes · View notes
lostaurorax · 7 months
Text
girlfriend-boyfriend
pairing | nick bosa x fem!reader
authors note | hi guys 😊😊 i am alive & well. life has been very crazy lately but i feel like i always return at this time of the year write a few fics then disappear sooo here i am again! i love nick and their is no fanfic for him on here :( yet again here i am writing fanfic for an underrated nfl player 😉 i hope you enjoy this i love you sm and hope you’re all well!!!! lmk if you want more or have any reqs for me pls <33333
Tumblr media
you and nick had been seeing eachother for a few months now. you had meet through mutual friends and you instantly clicked. once the NFL season started he had you in a suite at every single game. you absolutely loved making friends with all of the players partners and watching nick play every sunday.
it was the last game before the super bowl that would determine if the 49ers made it or not. you and all of the girls had been on the edge of your seats the whole game. the 49ers were currently 17-24 against the detroit lions.
the lions had fumbled the ball and the 49ers got it back. purdy threw to kittle and got a touchdown then made the field goal making the score 27-24.
“oh my gosh!!! yes yes we still got it!” you screamed as you hugged claire who was george’s wife
“omg y/n i think we’re gonna make it!!!” she screamed back and you hugged eachother
“oh i know we are.” you said back to her intently watching the game
the 49ers had gotten another touchdown and then the lions got one 2 minutes later. the score was still 34-31 and the 99ers were in the lead. a few minutes of waiting for the clock to run out was the most nerve racking few minutes of your life.
“and the san francisco 49ers are going to the super bowl!!” the announcers had said causing mayhem to erupt in the stadium
“THEY DID IT!!!!!!!” you screamed to kristin and claire as you all hugged each other.
“HELL YEAH BABY WERE GOING TO THE SUPER BOWl!!!” kristin said excitedly
“let’s go see our men!!!” claire said as you all left the suite giddily to join your boys on the field
you felt like your heart was beating out of your chest as you walked on the field looking around for nick. you weren’t exactly an official couple but everyone knew you were together because you were always with him and he was always with you, but you never said that you were boyfriend-girlfriend.
“do you think he’s gonna ask you?” claire whispered in your ear as you were walking towards the boys. secretly she had known nicks plane as george had already told her but she would never ruin a surprise and a little teasing never hurts.
“what? uhh i don’t know….do you think he will?” you replied nervously as you looked at her
“if he doesn’t ill have george kill him.” she said with a wink as you walked up to george, nick, and kyle
“oh my gosh i’m so proud of you!!!” you said with a big smile as soon as you saw nick in front of you
“couldn’t of done it without you watching of course.” he said with a smile just as big as he engulfed you in a hug
“i knew you could do it.” you whispered to him as you hugged him back. you were meet with silence for a moment as he just held you and rubbed his hand up and down your back
you had no idea that behind you george and claire had been scolding him to ask you
“so y/n..” he said as he slowly pulled away so he could look at you as he talked
“yes nicky?” you said using the nickname he hated but you loved calling him
“wanna come to vegas with me…as my girlfriend?” he said with a shy smile
“oh nick yes, i would love too!” you said happily as your lips meet with his.
“yeah buddy!!!!” george said from behind
“God finally. i thought i was gonna have to ask her for you…” christian said as olivia lightly pushed his arm
“YAY Y/N!!! you’re officially one of us now!!!!” kristin said as she and the girls also smiled
“alright alright! let’s go party and win this thing!!!” nick said causing everyone to cheer and disperse to party for the rest of the night
once everyone was gone you turned back to nick.
“is it too early to say i love you? honestly i don’t care because i do.” you said as you rested your chin on his chest
“i love you more y/n. forever.” he said as he leaned down to kiss you
“lets go party girlfriend…” nick said cheekily as he pulled away and stuck his arm out for you to grab
“sure thing boyfriend..” you said back with a big smile as you wrapped your arm around his and walked him to the locker room
391 notes · View notes
threepandas · 1 month
Text
Bad End: Stolen
Tumblr media
I was furious.
Terrified. Completely enraged. Sick to my stomach. Overwhelmed and yet expected to function. To keep my shaking hands smooth and screaming thoughts orderly. All I wanted to do want scream. Cry. Destroy and destroy, weep and RAGE.
Then hide in a closet under blankets until the monsters went away.
But... but he wasn't going too, was he?
"Ah, my honored Sister, how good of you to join me." Greets the murderer before me, voice cool and smooth like the scales of a snake. There is a gleefully victorious lilt to that voice. A curling possessiveness to the title.
I am not his sister. We are not ever REMOTELY related. It is not even a matter of me disowning him for what he's down. It is simple truth. We are not, by blood, related. We were not RAISED together. Our relation? A farce. A legal machination by my... my Father, oh gods... No! Don't get swallowed by the memories! T-The blood. Focus!!
Fafnir is... WAS just one of many promising, talented, ambitious young men with no father's that DEFINITELY were my Father's bastard sons, no really. He most certainly wasn't COLLECTING meritorious youth into our house, under his name, and training them up with his wealth and influence. To bypass the bullshit class system and give them a chance at better lives!
Maybe suggest they pay it forward.
My father would never be so duplicitous. No, no, he was just a very lustful man... that no one ever saw going out to have sex. Who's wife had never been the least bit upset with him. And to whom he was fiercely loyal. Yes. Very, very lustful my father... w-was.
It was just while the family continued it's work on opening up opportunities for the lower classes. Jobs and better quality of life. Hospitals and schools. Fighting against those who benefited from nothing changing. It was slow. Like pulling teeth. The work of lifetimes, he'd said. I... I was expected to help continue it.
I'd been GLAD too. So utterly RELIEVED I was reborn into a house with some fucking sense of RESPONSIBILITY. Duty and honor and taking care of people! Building up social services! I had grand plans. Even after recognizing, a little alarmed, that I was on the fringe of a god damned OTOME game of all things.
One I barely remembered. Had played, loved most likely, as a preteen. A literal lifetime ago.
It didn't effect me, right? I wasn't here for boys or parties. Politics or fanciful dreams. Let someone else have their lace filled, flower coated, high drama adventures of love. I had late night paperwork and community research. Surprise to orphanages and hospitals to insure their was no corruption or mischief going on.
That one health clinic in Oakworth that took forever to get going.
Except...
Except??
Fafnir was a capture target! Which is why it took me forever to realize. As he had been so very small and filthy at first. Then merely small and in poor health. Short hair because his poor hair had been beyond saving. We passed by each other. Nodded, maybe exchanged pleasantries, but did not truely interact.
He lived in the dorms. I lived in the main house. He was basicly a student my father was paying to have taught, using our name. I was my father's actual daughter. We may have LEGALLY been related. LEGALLY brother and sister. But in actuality? We were no such thing.
Honestly, most of the "Sons"? Kept their original last names in day to day life.
Or at least... they did.
I.. I think I had shit taste, as a preteen. That or my luck has finally run out. Maybe it was my family's fortune, that finally could no longer best the odds. After all, there is always one. That ONE soul. Who sees something good and doesn't care about anything or anyone but themselves. Ruins things for everyone.
As long as they get their's, right?
A sea of motivated and ambitious young men. Trying to change their station in life. Have Better and MORE. Change the world around them. Leave their marks. Is... ha! Is it any wonder, in hindsight, that our luck eventually gave out? It was always going too. I guess Fafnir just wanted MORE.
He was supposed to go to the Royal Academy, fall in love. Compete against prince's and duke's, knights and heirs to merchant companies. All for the heart of the only daughter of a Ducal house, that had been (of course) raised by peasants. A carriage accident and presumed death cliché.
I honestly couldn't even remember his route. I might have read about it. But had never PLAYED it. He had had short hair, all but two had. So I played the foriegn prince route, even though he was kind of an ass. He was a handsome one at least. At least to me. It was just, I had never... still never...
I liked men with long hair.
Something which I had never told anyone.
Yet? As Fafnir grew? He did not transition into the character I remembered, like the others had. He grew his hair out. Became not only fiercely protective of it, but invested in higher quality products to care for it. Discovered my favorite perfume maker and commissioned a cologne for himself, that would mix well with the scent I always wore. Systematically tracked down each and everything I've ever liked, behind my back, to consume and memorize every facet of them.
I was blind to it.
My Father was not.
And... a-and... it cost him his life.
Father was not pleased with want he saw. But assumed it was a crush at first. We were young after all. Young people do weird, awkward, over the line things. Are learning about boundaries even as they grapple with sudden floods of hormonal shifts. A terrible time, really. It could be excused. As long as it didn't go TOO far. So long as someone sat Fafnir down for a talk.
They did.
He got more subtle.
A cycle developed. One my Father was not pleased to see. Fafnir would cross boundaries, be caught, get scolded, and contritely apologize... then get more subtle in his approach. Be more clever. As though all he had learned was "don't get caught". and "if you want to get, what you want to have, you need to have the skills to get passed us."
He grew concerned. Eventually, alarmed. I had thought nothing of it, back then, because "of COURSE he was supposed to go" to the Royal Academy? But... we honestly, really, Truely? HADN'T sent anyone there before. And there HAD been far more skilled boy then him. Prodigies.
But... my favorite ribbon necklace had gone missing.
From the room where I slept.
Overnight.
My Father took one look at Fafnir's pleased expression amongst the chaos and needed no further proof. He would not kick him out. Far too dangerous, he thought. But he WOULD send him away. Now?
Now I wish he'd risked it. Because... because everyone was dead. Struck down by the monster we let into our home. And by ancient law, which we both KNEW he was planning to exploit? This was a... a "family matter". Because, after all, we WERE legally family. Members of the same House.
"Such hesitation, Sister. You'd think I was a threat." He muses into his cup of tea, swirling it lightly. His eyes flit back to me, lips curling just slightly. "Don't worry, though. I understand completely. I would never hurt you."
But he would hurt others. He already has. Most of them didn't survive it. Ha ha... like a brutal yank on some unseen leash. I want to cry. Not sure if this is what shock feels like. But yes, thank you, for the lovely remind, Fafnir. That you have filled my home with bodies. The corpses of those I loved.
I use what little dignity I have left to walk forward and sit down.
Oh look, he has utterly ruined all my favorite things in one blow. There, my favorite tea. That, my favorite flower. Across the table my favorite snacks. Even a few favorite fruits. A dish or two. My favorite cup. And now? N..NOW? All I will every be able to associate with them is death. The stench of copper and the horror of this moment.
The joy of them is gone.
"See? Isn't that better? No more standing awkwardly to the side. Now we can sit, face to magnificent face. I've brought you a few things I know you'll enjoy. Isn't that nice? I've wanted to do this for the longest time." He sighs in contentment, as though this were no more then a matter of busy schedules and social anxiety. "And now? Now we are finally together. Siblings for now, but I am working to fix that. And if i can't, well..."
His smirk was a thing of nightmares.
"I'm head of the house now. You're finally Mine."
70 notes · View notes
ronearoundblindly · 6 months
Note
Hi Ro! I know I'm late to this party, but can I get B and F for Steve?
Thank you! 💜
Never too late, darling! This is tumblr, not a job 😁
This one got away with me. It got weirdly sappy for the categories asked, but I went with general Steve from no particular universe here, plus a nondescript part of the timeline or beyond, could even kinda be AU--if you squint--except Steve is definitely famous in some capacity and was small when young. (I just think he happens to look very cuff-able in this gif so we roll with it.)
Tumblr media
These dirty asks from this game are aptly titled, so MINORS DNI.
Tumblr media
B - Bondage
He can't exactly be tied up, not by anything commercially available, but Steve surprisingly likes the chance to sit still, take a backseat, and enjoy experiencing your enjoyment. He used to be so small. He assumed he'd never have the power he does now.
The restraints, as useless as they are, work as a calming tool to shut off his brain for a while. He's not responsible for anything. That's nice. Very freeing. The act of binding him is in itself roleplay; he's playing small and weak.
He's noticed something else, too.
Over the weeks and months you two have repeated this ritual of tying him up, and you both understand just how much it doesn't remotely hurt him, you've grown...more aggressive with the bonds. It's only when you're tying them--never an ounce of it in anything that follows--but he watches and realizes that you relieve frustration by pulling harder, knotting tighter, heaving around until their just so.
At this point, since Steve can do nothing else, he loves to see it. He's heard short and vague accounts from you, of shitty behavior, of innuendo, of back-handed compliments about how you do so well even with Steve. How his reputation must boost you. How you don't have to work so hard or be good because he'll carry you. How your accomplishments are all tied to him somehow.
It's not true, but they say it. They mean it. Steve can do nothing but let you physically yoke him down in your life, even for a few minutes. The weight it seems to lift from your shoulders is worth any momentary sting he might feel.
No. Steve doesn't mind the bonds at all. He even hates that you can't restrain him for real. He wishes he could give you that. Then people might see that you're just that powerful and you've always been that strong. He had nothing to do with it.
Tumblr media
Okay, one sec, let me pull myself together here. YIKES.
IT BECAME ITS OWN FIC! [Entwined]
F - Food Play
[Fools Rush In Steve a.k.a. Sketch is notoriously anti-crumbs-in-the-bed, so he is 1000% not a part of this convo. Sorry, bub.]
YUP. Steve loves to feed you. It's a care thing. He always wants your opinion of all the food on the table, so you have to try everything. Here! Try this. The fork is already by your lips and he's smiling eagerly.
In the bedroom? Oh yes, he is very fond of licking sweet things off you and having them licked off him. It's one of the things that seems to tickle Steve the most--body and soul--and it's so playful. He even gets to lean into having a fast metabolism and needing calories after his workouts. If he drizzles honey or chocolate syrup on you, or hilariously fizzes too much whipped cream out of the canister he has not gotten the hang of yet, then that's a snack and a half. That's multitasking. That's just good time management, ya know?
Savory stuff is for meals and the table though. There's none of that that gets played with during sex. He's never outright said that's a rule, but it seems obvious when there's never been a crossover event.
Super random shout out to Steve having a bit of a thing for champagne and licking it off your neck after he deliberately splashes or pours it there. The bubbles tickle like hell and the cold is so shocking, but whatever, he loves it.
🙄
Thank you for asking!
Tumblr media
Ack, I can feel in my bones that the bondage one might end up as a one shot. I am in so much trouble.
[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
104 notes · View notes
bengiyo · 3 months
Text
Knock Knock Boys Ep 4 Stray Thoughts
Last week, the boys all went to the onsen to try to bond with Jumper, to mixed results. Almond also remains perhaps more focused on Latte than Jumper because he’s so nervous, and is determined to figure out if Latte has a birthmark on his dick. Thanwa and Peak have been vibing pretty hard, and I’m into it. Thanwa has asked Peak to help him with his job applications, and Peak wants to learn how to better enjoy food. Almond also followed Latte and Lukpeach to the sex toy store and completely misunderstood what was going on. I’m currently suspicious about Thanwa’s financial situation.
As a note, @babyangelsky warned us about extreme toilet humor between 41:30 and 42:33.
I am really enjoying these cold opens to the potential end of the episode. It’s compelling every time.
I feel like we have been in this BL house before. The porch looks familiar.
Latte remains a tease and I love it.
Wouldn’t be a proper foodie if there wasn’t a special story attached to his favorite dish.
Now why did he feed that man like that?
I went to a school with corporal punishment. I’m always surprised when I see it in Thai colleges.
I really don’t want to be disappointed in Jumper lately. I am having fun with the way it feels like he’s flirting with Peak.
Fellas, is it gay to stare into each other’s eyes and search each other’s souls while holding a computer mouse together?
Thanwa’s friend looks like a Pokémon trainer.
Oh, I don’t like this guy promising compensation as he leaves a bill to Thanwa.
I’ve not vibed with a lot of BL choices this year, but I’m glad we’re getting more sexual health PSAs in the shows lately.
I think it’s very good to give Almond condoms. I get the sense he’d be nervous about getting his own.
Almond, why are you so pressed about Lukpeach if you ain’t tryina smash.
Did Seng teach Nokia how to smile like a dork?
Yes, bring Lukpeach to the party. She needs to know that this is not just two college boys on a romance track. There’s a whole house of boys.
Small things that this show earns is Thanwa being the primary cook of the household. He doesn’t come off as bossy when he’s asking Almond to go get stuff from the kitchen while he works on other food prep. It feels natural.
Oh ho! We’ve reached the cold open around the middle.
Now, Latte, don’t get jealous of a moment you helped create.
How old are we? 7 minutes in heaven?? At least they played that well right out the gate.
A game about going into closets together to see what might happen. These jokes write themselves.
Oh no. I am close to the trigger warning. This is about to be the worst scatological humor I’ve been subjected to by Thai BL. I can feel it.
NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! THIS IS SO GROSS!!!!
Girls….I am disgusted… Trust the warning. Props to Pak, Nokia, and Jaonine for playing that all the way through, but I don’t need to see that ever again.
What the hell is going on in that closet though??
I just know it’s hot as hell in this closet.
I appreciate this show giving me some kisses after that vomit scene. It’s what I deserve.
Okay, I really like this apology and reestablishment of consensual boundaries. Excellent kiss the homies content.
Welcome back, Jane. I hope you give us some answers next week.
This show is really assured, and I’m having a great time with it. I really love when a show has two couples and has them on similarly-paced advancement tracks. It offers up a lot of fun comparison. It’s clear at this point that Almond and Latte like being around each other, and Latte is becoming jealous of Almond’s interest in Jumper. It also works that Thanwa was the one to have kissed Peak already and has been waiting for him to sort it out. That was a really excellent episode. Having Jumper be such a sloppy mess on top of Almond like that is a good way to kill much of the enthusiasm he might have there, opening a lane for Latte. Good shit, Knock Knock Boys.
58 notes · View notes
Text
Better Late Than Never - Nikolai Lantsov
Summary: Nikolai returns to unexpected events regarding his brother and his childhood best friend.
Content Warnings: Vasily. No Beta/Proof Reading.
So I figured I posted 10 Tolya ones, I'm going to post one for my husband, the love of my life, the man of my dreams, by darling bastard prince, Nikolai.
Tumblr media
He hadn't changed. Not in the years he had been away. Nikolai still looked exactly the same. The same clever persona that he wore around those he built it for. The same balanced tone he had practiced for years before perfecting. That same damned smile that was far too mischievous to exist in this surrounding, these rooms filled with important people who barely knew how to do anything that mattered.
You had almost hoped that he would've changed, or he would've been different to what you remembered him being, because seeing him like this, the same as you remembered him, was the hardest thing you'd ever had to do. Your Nikolai, late to the party, in more ways than one.
Vasily was so quick to pull you over to greet him, all laughter and welcomes, you didn't get a chance to speak. Nikolai stared at you as his brother spoke, you guessed it was to do with the unnecessarily extravagant attire you were wearing which was very out of character, or why you were within any distance of Vasily by choice.
"Brother, I am guessing no one has told you the good news," Vasily's tone was joyful but in a calculated type of way that made Nikolai very nervous. He couldn't understand what you were doing here, he was glad to see you, but you had only ever been on the grounds because he had asked you to be, you had often said these walls felt too high and you felt trapped into a life you didn't need reminders of. So why were you here?
"We are short on good news these days, so please go ahead," Nikolai said trying to keep his eyes on his brother, stop them wandering back to you.
"Well, I am betrothed," Vasily gleamed, his gaze turned back to you and Nikolai suddenly understood with blinding clarity exactly why his brother was being so chipper. "Or should I say we we are betrothed?"
Nikolai didn't hear much of what Vasily has to say after that, he just gives small nods as his brother talks a while more, eyes continuously darted to you, trying to read the situation, you tried to avoid his gaze. You had missed Nikolai dearly, and in his absence so many things had spun out of control, you had done nothing but wish for his return, but now he had it filled you with a strange uncertainty, a fear you didn't recognize.
Finally Vasily was pulled away by a member of the court and for the first time, you were left alone with Nikolai. "I missed you Kolya," were the first words you could muster.
"He proposed," Nikolai met you with and you frowned. No niceties and cat and mouse with Nikolai, then again you shouldnt have been suprised, it was always like that with him. The Puppy Prince never expected you to play games with him, or so you'd always thought. But all his time away, you'd forgotten what such directness felt like. It would've been a relief, had the topic not been one of such burden.
"I wouldn't say proposed as such," you said lowering your voice, "it was more of a demand than a question."
"And you said yes?" Nikolai asked.
"I said nothing, I thought that be the safer option, safer than explaining how I dare turn down a prince," you explained.
"You'd be surprised how easily that comes to some," Nikolai gave you a grin, the type you remember from the years of back and forth with him, and for a moment you can forget where you are, and why, you can even forget the reason you're talking. But only for a moment.
"He took my silence as a yes, and I'm in no position to correct him," you raised your arms gently in a gesture to the whole room, "so here I am." The displeasure behind your perfectly practiced demeanour was clear to Nikolai now, as it always had been in all the years passed.
"This is not what you want," Nikolai said as if it could be a revelation of any kind and not some natural statement of fact.
"No Nikolai," you teased your voice dripping with the sarcasm that Nikolai himself was so fluent in, "I dream of nothing more than to be married to your boorish, pigheaded, wanton brother who sees me as not an equal or a companion or even a bride but as a simple toy to steal away from you. Please, let me be married faster."
In all their years of friendship, Vasily had envied Nikolai and you, the one thing that Vasily could not easily take and make his own. "Careful, love, that sounds treasonous," Nikolai says, the laughter in his voice but you sense the parts of him missing. The parts filled with concern for you.
"Please, charge me, and then I can be free of him, if only in death," you smiled, so forced, and Nikolai let the facade slip.
"You are truly so unhappy?" Nikolai asked.
"Can you imagine a world in which being with your brother could make me anything less than miserable?" You asked.
"I'm sorry," Nikolai managed, truly at a loss for what to do. "I know you never intended to marry."
This acknowledgement suprised you, not least of all because it wasn't true. "What do you mean?"
"Just that you had never once seemed interested in those who wished to court you, and if I remember there were plenty," Nikolai tried to brush it off but there was something else in his voice when he spoke. Jealousy?
"That had nothing to do with my desire to marry," you stated. "I wished to marry Nikolai. I wish still to marry. I just never was asked by someone whom I would want to be my husband. The men I would wish to marry, seemed to never care to ask."
Vasily beckoned you with a hand, and you sighed deep, knowing your limited time without him was quickly ending. But something you said struck Nikolai and you could see it on his face. You were marrying Vasily, and Nikolai would likely be returning to wherever he came from soon enough, and it would likely be another five years or so before you saw him again, if the war ever ended and the Darkling didn't slaughter you all. But maybe, being engaged to the prince was enough to make you hope for that outcome, a short marriage and impending death. The thought brought a chuckle to your lips even if it never made it out of your mouth.
What could go worse now? What damage was their truly left to do, so before you depart to your fiance across the room, you turn to Nikolai to speak again. "I had dreamt of becoming a Lantsov for a very long time, Kolya," you admitted to him, "but I never once as much as entertained the thought I could be marrying your brother."
Nikolai is left in what you might believe to be the only moment you've found him without words to say as you made your way to return to your husband-to-be's side.
Nikolai watched you go, beyond lost. In all these years, he had assumed all your back and forth, all the flirtation, it was a pastime for you. That you wore charm like he did, as an armour. He had always believed your fluttered eyelashes and your gentle dalliance and teasing were not based in anything real. He had dared not to think of it, because as much as a prince may get used to hearing 'yes.' He was only the second prince, and a bastard at that if the rumours were to be believed. Anything he could want his brother could easily take from him, and would. So he had never let himself wonder. If your feelings had been genuine he wanted them to be for him and not his title or his lineage or his prospects. And they had. They always had and he had not seen it.
And now Vasily had done what Nikolai had feared regardless, seeing through the forest and the trees to what was so obvious that he had not considered it.
You.
You who now stood, unable to alter your position and overwhelmingly desperate to be anywhere but where you are, besides his brother.
There is nothing in that moment Nikolai would not do to fix it.
He must fix it.
Update: Part 2
386 notes · View notes
stevespookington · 2 years
Text
role reversal au part 2! (part 1)
“What the hell!” Eddie shouted, pointing past Dustin at the TV screen. 
Dustin winced and raised his hands slowly, “Eddie, hey, uh… you want to come in and sit down?”
“Yes! We have a couch in the break room, how about you come sit down?” Robin chimed in from over Dustin’s shoulder. 
Eddie’s gaze darted rapidly from between the TV screen and the three of them standing there, Dustin’s hands were still outstretched in what probably was meant to be a calming manner. 
It was not a calming manner. 
“Okay, Dustin. Quick question, why should I stay here and more likely than you get involved with that?” Eddie paused to gesture at the TV screen, hand shaking. “When I could, instead, not?”
Dustin winced again and exchanged looks with the other two. He looked back at Eddie and let out a sigh, “Because it’s probably already too late, Eddie.”
“Dustin you know I am excellent at running away, it’s never too late.” Eddie couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. Steve fucking Harrington not only was at his drug stash this morning but he was also most likely the top suspect in a murder case.
“Eddie…” Dustin started, but paused when Robin put a hand on his shoulder. 
She looked over at him and Eddie froze, for Robin wasn’t just looking at him, but was looking into him. Like seeing like. “Hunt the freak.” Robin said quietly. 
Oh. Shit. 
Eddie swallowed shakily. Any reason to go after those who were different, Harrington might be the top suspect right now, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way. “That couch is sounding pretty good after all.”
Robin gestured to the back room before she crossed to lock the store door, flipping the sign to closed with a sigh. Eddie followed them blindly back into the break room, still not processing what was happening. Hunt the freak, played in a loop in his head. He sank down on the couch and buried his head in his hands, what the hell happened. 
Eddie looked up at the others, Robin was perched on a chair while Dustin had claimed the other end of the couch. The redhead leaned against a patch of wall, anxiety on every line of her posture. Max? Yeah, Max sounded right. Eddie paused, he had forgotten a very important detail, “Who died?”
Dustin winced again, before he exchanged a look with Max. “Max and I think it was most likely Chrissy Cunningham. We biked by Steve’s house before coming here and it was a mess, police everywhere. We, uh, saw someone get carried out and then we came here.”
Eddie froze. 
“She was pretty messed up yesterday, I ran into her in the bathroom at school and she did not look good.” Max continued before rubbing at her head, brow furrowed. 
Well shit. Eddie was supposed to have picked up Chrissy after the game yesterday. He had gotten out of Hellfire and she wasn’t there, but that wasn’t surprising, people bailed on buying all the time. He figured she had just got swept up after the game and gone to some after party. But not this…
He didn’t think she would have gotten murdered… Maybe if he had wrapped up the session sooner. Maybe if he had looked around more or had just given her weed after lunch instead of promising something harder. 
Eddie swallowed and tried to fight back the guilt swarming him. What fucking if. “Oh, well. Shit. Harrington did that? I thought you said he was okay now, Dustin? Not, uh, a murderer…”
“He’s not!” Dustin shouted, indignation showing in every line of his body before he repeated more softly, “He’s not.” 
Robin placed a hand on Dustin’s shoulder, “Eddie, there’s some weird shit that goes on in Hawkins, weirder stuff than you have seen before. The kind of weird shit involving monsters, but right now what we need to know is what you know and what Steve told you. I can promise you, Steve did not murder Chrissy Cunningham. I know Steve was a jerk back in school, but I swear to you, he has changed. And even back then, he was not going around murdering people.” She leveled him with a clear look, no bullshit, and continued. “Please tell us what you know.”
Eddie desperately wanted to know what shit they had gone through together that Robin Buckley, band geek, was so unwaveringly defending Steve Harrington. He also really did not want to find out first hand, but from the looks that all three of them were leveling at him, Eddie thought he might already be involved in their shit. “Oh, well. She wanted to buy some…” Eddie paused and glanced at Max and Dustin. “Stuff from me yesterday, but she didn’t show up after the game so I went about my night.” Eddie paused and looked down at his feet, hands clenched in his jeans, he had just left. He thought it was alright and so he just left. 
Dustin chimed in, “Wait, Steve was supposed to give me home after Hellfire yesterday… I thought his date had just gone really well, but maybe he ran into Chrissy there? Or something?”
Robin scoffed, “His date most likely did not go well, that dingus doesn’t know what the hell he wants.” Robin stopped herself before she could continue, her brief laughter at Steve’s date cut off as her face fell. “But I can mock him later, more important things now. Eddie what happened next?”
“Uh, well I this morning I went out to Reefer Rick’s place, I was supposed to drop off some cash and pick up some stuff. And out of one of the boats, out jumps Harrington. He looked really fucked up, not physically, just mentally really bad off. And well, I guess dead bodies would do that… he uh, roughed me up a bit. Well, just startled, I think? He didn’t actually hit me or anything, but then he paid me to come here and get a message to you all. Code Red?”
Eddie stopped as the others all inhaled suddenly, the anxiety in the room rocketing up. The three of them exchanged looks and Dustin cursed under his breath. 
Eddie hazarded a guess, “Code Red is bad?”
“Code Red is very bad.” Max said with a jerky nod.
That very much did not sound good and Eddie knew what he was good at, running away. “Well, that sounds, not great. I think it is time for me to be heading home…”
Robin winced and cleared her throat, “Uh, not a good plan. Sorry. But you are probably safer with us for one thing, from what I understand, although I have only really been through this once, things tend to get pretty gruesome after Code Red is called. But also, they are probably… well they are probably going to have you on the suspect list pretty soon.”
Eddie blinked in disbelief and shot Robin a flat look. “What.”
“Uh, the whole ‘freak’ thing?” Robin winced again, “But even without that, Steve hangs out with basically two people. Me and Dustin. I do band, but what does Dustin do…” She trailed off meaningfully. 
Eddie stared blankly at Robin as she made small hand gestures before it finally clicked. Shit. Dustin was in Hellfire, they were going to think that Steve was tied up with something with Eddie. 
Dustin stood up and moved in front of Eddie, a pleading look on his face. “Eddie, we can explain more on the ride there, but I need you to trust me. You are not going to escape suspicion on this and even without all of the stupid people in this town, the implications of Code Red means you probably are still in danger.”
Eddie was very good at running, thank you very much Dustin Henderson. But also… he hadn’t gone looking for Chrissy and maybe he could have saved her from whatever this Code Red worthy thing was. A monster by the sounds of what Robin had said earlier? It sure as hell sounded like he was already going to be a suspect in this mess.
And maybe he could actually save someone this time. Maybe he could help.
He would much rather run away from this whole mess, but it sounded like it was too late.
Towards danger it was instead.
814 notes · View notes
m00nlight-ramblings · 11 months
Text
Childfree Gale Headcanons
REQUEST: yes
Some Gale/Tav headcanons being childfree! Some light NSFW. Enjoy
Tumblr media
Lots of weekend dates to things like farmer's markets, festivals, and activities within the community.
Spontaneous getaways that Gale always plans - sometimes for a week, sometimes for a weekend, maybe even a day. But he will organize something down to the tiniest detail, and is also very good at keeping secrets/surprises!
Lots of late night talks about whatever he is hyper-fixating on at the moment - your discussions will sometimes last until 3 AM about a book he is reading, or maybe even something you're interested in, in the moment.
Certified Cool Uncle Gale status - you two will happily babysit your friends' kids for the afternoon/evening, and you're always the favorites amongst your nieces/nephews (but you're always really happy to give them back at the end of the day).
Sometimes on a random Sunday, the two of you will spend all day in bed - never getting dressed, and switching between having sex, reading, talking, napping. Gale has obviously never been in a healthy relationship before, so some days he loves to revel in the love you two share.
You two don't have a designated date night, so sometimes when either of you don't feel like cooking, you'll go to the local pub or inn and relax for a few hours. Getting a little tipsy on ale on a Wednesday? Okay, sounds good!
Both of your are very active in the Waterdeep community - ever since you moved in with him, he made it a point to show you off and make sure that everyone knew who you were so you were comfortable in your new home. Because of that, the community surrounding you always feels warm and safe, and you often find yourself doing things together in different groups.
DINNER PARTIES - so many dinner parties. Gale loves to cook and you love to host, so you often have large groups of friends come over for dinner and drinks, with music and games. The dinner parties have become known throughout town as somewhat legendary, and they last very late into the night.
Your home is decorated with lots of not kid-friendly things (magical objects, sharp corners, etc.), but both you and Gale have curated a home that feels comfy and safe, as well as aesthetically pleasing for the both of you.
Tara in lots of sweaters and costumes. Since you're not dressing kids, you're dressing her (and she loves it, even if she won't admit it).
Lots of walks along the water before dinner, while the sun is setting, holding hands and chatting about your days.
There are lots of talks about your future together, and all of the adventures and vacations you want to take - faraway lands, and expensive dinners, and stories infused with the magic of love.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when you're both woken up by whatever, you find yourselves unable to keep you hands off of each other, and will make mind-blowing super loud love well until the sun comes up. Passionate, feverish, I-won't-be-able-to-stop-thinking-about-this-night-for-weeks kind. And then once that is done, you two are able to sleep in to recoup the energy spent.
Feeling like you're constantly in the honeymoon period together since there is no other person you need to focus on in your life.
"It's always going to be us," Gale says as he holds you, "The two of us, together. With you by my side, there's nothing we can't do...together. Us versus the world, my love. And we're just getting started."
------
What did you think? I love thinking of Gale as a boyf...he'd be the best partner in the world, I think.
REMEMBER: my inbox is open for requests, so submit something and I'll get to it! :)
162 notes · View notes
neoyi · 26 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sea of Stars DLC, Throes of the Watchmaker ...watched. Time for obsessive commentary. Let's do this, motherfuckers!
Okay, so, I wasn't expecting this game to do anything with Keenathan's name other than as a repeating joke, but apparently it's plot relevant to this DLC oh my GoD.
I wonder if Horloge is inside the big clock located in the Watchmaker's room? When she told us explicitly not to touch it, I just assumed it as part of her nature to be proud and protective of her work; it is a very intricate clock. But maybe it serves as a gateway to another world all along. Which brings up the question: can she travel through time and space?
I will not be using the local 3-player co-op mode because I am a hermit, but I'm vastly curious to see how this will be implemented. I assume they're going by New Super Mario Bros logic in that if anyone is pushed off-screen, they'll probably be bubblized and transported to where the other player characters are.
Circles aesthetics aren't my jam (I never particularly vibe with clowns especially; to me, they all look like gaudy Ronald McDonalds.) But they tend to go hand-in-hand with late 19th century steampunk aesthetics which IS my jam. So, yeah, I have a feeling I'm gonna be taking a lot of screencaps of this game.
GOD, YES! I was sad that the Artificer wouldn't be playable despite his adorable frog robot design really lending himself as a main party member kinda look. Then I found out via the artbook that he would be for the DLC and lo and behold, there's my cutie-patootie froggo! I love him! I can't wait to play him!
Okay, I was really curious how they were going to consider the Resh'an issue since he replaces himself with a puppet late in the game. For that matter, the Garl issue, too, since he dies in the main plot and reviving him is entirely optional (though necessary for true ending.) Would the DLC have accounted for the change or not dependent on where the story would take place? But it seems like they just solved that problem by having only Zale and Valere enter. Which is a shame, because it might mean the rest of the party members don't get to go to Horloge, including any new dialogue from them. Here's hoping we can still explore the place with the other party members after finishing the DLC's plot or something.
For that matter, will the Artificer be a playable character only in the DLC? Or will Sabotage Studio account for the change and place him as a permanent seventh team member?
What, exactly, is Horloge that it can change the rules that forces Zale and Valere to acquire new skills to accommodate their Solar and Lunar magic? Perhaps this land truly is another world that their entire magic system ended up altered because it wasn't compatible with this world. That or someone very powerful (the Puppeteer?) can command such a rule that even the freakin' Solstice Warriors cannot overcome it so easily.
Hey, Pif and Pouf, you two are giving me major Zorn and Thorn vibes. You two start speaking in weird sentence structures and I'mma gonna break out the hammer.
I cannot elaborate how fucking cool looking Zale and Valere's clones, the Feral Queen and Narcis King looks.
And it goes without saying how much the Puppeteer looks like the Watchmaker. I'm guessing either a sibling or an alternate version of herself. Safer bet is on the latter if Sabotage Studio games is really leaning on the multiverse thing. The DLC IS called "Throes of the Watchmaker", which means there must be some involvement of her beyond a gatekeeper of a Clock Circus World or something. Like I have read the canon info that she is the Shopkeeper's ancestor, so could this DLC connect those specific dots?
Yes, it's a meme. Yes, it's kind of old and tiring. No, I do not care, I want to see a train getting suplex'd.
50 notes · View notes
the-radio-demon-blog · 2 months
Note
Hello hello, its me again! *gives a small grin*
Thank you for sharing a bit of insight into your childhood pastimes with me. It was really intriguing!
I used to enjoy tag as well, though I am not very good at card games, minus go fish and possibly old maid. I can play uno though. I don't think I have the best poker face myself. Surprisingly enough, though, I am exceptional at liar's dice. It's a social game of deception and strategy were people make bids and call bluffs on other players while attempting to avoid losing their own dice, so to speak. Its quite fun, I recommend it!
However, math isn't a strong suit of mine, nor is figuring out the probability of things; but some how I have a weird sort of luck with that game in particular. I believe I even made an acquaintance of mine nearly loose his mind in trying to figure out how I was able to guess correctly almost every single time without an ounce of thought put into my strategy haha.
*clears throat and shuffles in place, holding both hands behind her. It's obvious she's holding something*
In any case, that's not the only reason I'm back. I wanted to give you a surprise. You seem the type to appreciate those, I'm assuming.
*glances over into the lobby at all of the flower arrangements present gifted from previous guests*
But I think I'm a little late to the party with the surprise I have for you, haha. Well, great minds think alike I suppose. Anyways, the suspense is probably killing you, so here you go!
*Presents a bouquet of magnolias and violet Louisiana Irises in a sizable vase with a soft, shy smile*
Everyone deserves to at least get a bouquet of their favorite flowers every now and then. Its a token of my respect for you, my appreciation for your time and just to say I'm a fan of your work and radio show.
Also, if you guys need any help around the hotel, I don't mind volunteering! Though I'm not the best at fighting for security purposes, I am quite good at listening if someone needs to express troubling emotions and the like. I am also somewhat of an artist and can help make pamphlets and such for the classes and activities the Princess is providing, if you think that would be beneficial to anyone...
*Sheepishly laughs*
Though, I suppose you would need to discuss such an arrangement with the princess first. In any case, if you think my assistance would be necessary or profitable, I am willing to lend a helping hand wherever it is needed.
Tumblr media
"Ah, of course, my dear! I am happy that you found my childhood pastimes intriguing!"
"Hmm...that's quite a curious skill? Terrible at poker yet good at liar's dice? How fascinating! Ah, yes, I have played old maid in my time at the bars. You should truly take up card playing, my dear! It is quite fun!"
"Well, fate and luck works in mysterious ways, darling! That's what keeps life fun, hm? I must also admit my strategies can be erratic. I like to be unpredictable. Once you fall into a pattern, your opponents can exploit it."
Alastor gives you a curious look and tries to discreetly peer behind you.
"Oh my goodness! Thank you, dear!" Alastor takes the flowers eagerly into his hands and sniffs their wonderous scent. He lets out a good humored laugh. "I never thought I'd ever get to smell them again! Hah! As strange as that sounds! It is always nice to meet a fan of my work!"
"Yes, of course I would have to discuss such things with the princess." Alastor tilts his head and grins at her. "That's quite alright that you aren't exactly prowess, not everyone is built to be. However..." Alastor taps his chin. "...the Princess has been organizing this...hmm...this odd "therapy" activity. Perhaps you could help her with that?"
Alastsor sets the vase on the coffee table, taking good care to arrange them in a pleasing position. Then he turns back to her and offers her an arm. "If you would follow me, I can take you to the princess herself if you'd like!"
28 notes · View notes