#Just lemme know which if any DO appeal

[askshivanulegacy]

Actually think he's got ALL the great points. I am LIVING for Sith-centric POVs. The Jedi aren't right and good simply by virtue of being Jedi. I wanna hear what the other side has to say about it.

It's about time we had a sympathetic glance at the Sith. What's gonna happen next? When and what's the shoe that's about to drop?? Will the Sith be JUSTIFIED or will things revert back to ye olde Jedi=Right?

This is what story time is supposed to be about !!

*eats popcorn.*

He do be making some good points though.

[prettyboykatsuki]

heaven in your eyes | zayne (li shen)

♡ tags ; afab + gn!reader, established relationship, porn/no plot, role-reversal, so much dirty talk, soft dom + top!reader (using strap), slight brat + bottom!zayne, very light d/s dynamics, orgasm denial, rimming (m!recieving), anal fingering (m!recieving), pegging, zayne-centric, 18+

♡ wc ; 5.4k (just kill me)

♡ a/n ; this is so embarrassingly self-insert and self indulgent. im going to screamdfjkgs. so sorry. i hope its a good read at least.

title from lemme know by vince staples which will be good to listen for vibes. plus the lyric after this one. anjksdkj

additional authors note at the end abt his characterization here!!!

♡ synopsis ; zayne has a hard time asking for what he wants. you have a hard time paying attention when he wears his new outfit.

“My love. We’re not gonna make it to our—“ A deep shuddering sigh leaves his lips as you peer up at him, your hands just at his waist - lips against the column of pale neck. “…our date,”  

“Hm? Oh, I guess not.”  You murmur, not paying attention. You feel Zayne flush under you, the soft beat of his pulse under his skin.  

He gives you a long look. A half-hearted attempt to sway you. You’re almost out of the door by now, and if you don’t leave soon - you’ll be in a rush. All of these are fair worries. You applaud Zayne for being so considerate under the circumstances. 

Even after you’ve nearly jumped him by the doorway, hands wandering as you peer up at him. You feel a little guilty for potentially ruining your evening plans. But even if you did go to dinner now, you’re sure your patronage would be unwelcome. 

You’re not sure you have the self-restraint needed to not eye-fuck Zayne in a crowded dining room—even less that you don’t pay the bill too early to lay your hands on him in the car.  

And that has its own appeal, sure—you think about doing it just to be polite. But it’d be all sorts of inconvenient trying to drive back home in that state, disheveled and half-way to restless so you could get what you’re really offer.  

You nip at the junction between jaw and neck, teeth lightly scraping thin skin as you trail a kiss up to his earlobe and bite. “I feel sorry about our reservation but I can’t find a good reason to go when I could just bend you over right now,”  

His expression is charming. There’s an innocence to it, a novelty at his surprise hearing you speak so clearly that makes you shiver. A flush pinkness that deepens at the tips of his ears, the soft furrow of his brow. Like he’s embarrassed even though Zayne is not particularly self-conscious or coy.  

You suppose this element of your relationship still proves to be a bit much for him. It’s less that Zayne hates showing weakness - but more that control and the presence of it define his life. It’s hard to give that up so easily, you’re sure. Yet you want to do it anyway, so desperately the words fail you and lead you into cornering him for it. You like that it makes him self-conscious. It’s endearing and arousing in the same breath to watch him fall into familiar habits - unsure of himself. Fidgeting with his sleeve, thinking things over.  

A lot of things in your relationship are new for Zayne, but he must’ve had thoughts. Ideas about what love would look like and what sort of man he’d be. You feel a little sorry you’ve thrown a wrench in those plans simply by being what you are. But if he could see it from your view, you’re sure he’d understand.  

He looks almost displeased now though  - a silent plea in the small micro expressions of his face, yet he doesn’t do anything to turn you down.  

Truthfully you’re fond of this mild resistance. It fills you with a playful sadism seeing his general affect change so drastically in a heartbeat. You pull back to look up at him - kissing his jawline again. You let your hand ghost along the edge of his white blouse, tracing the folds of fabric with a thoughtful hum.  

“Would you be more inclined if I said please?” 

Zayne doesn’t say anything back, just looks down at you with expression nearly indiscernible from his others without the keenest eye. Fortunately you’d recognize that mild embarrassment anywhere. You grin haphazardly at him, head tilted.  

“Or maybe it’d be better to be direct and tell even if we do leave, I’ll be thinking of nothing but fucking you until we get home anyways,” You muse. His brows raise ever so slightly. You play innocently, pretending to think. “But if you’re feeling hungry or really want to go then I’ll wait it out. Is that alright?” 

His expression blooms, a bright red flushing down to his chest - avoiding your prying eyes. “You’re being smug,” 

A grin splits your face. “Am I?”  

“We shouldn’t…” He trails off, finally noticing the distant stare in your eyes as you him.  

“Proper as always, Doctor.”  

You’re at a stand-still. Zayne frowns, expression weary in that sweet way. A little more. 

“My love,” 

“It’s your call, sweetheart.”  

“You mentioned liking the outfit on me,” He says, soft and quiet. Not quite a protest - something closer to self-defense. You smile a little.  

“I did. I do. It’s distracting me,” You hum. “You wore it for me right?” 

His blush deepens, just a little. He frowns. “You’re rather easy to distract,”  

You’re kind enough to not point out his avoidance of the question. “Guilty as charged,”  

You let yourself push forward. Your fingers dip underneath the hem of his shirt before you slide your hands underneath, palms pressing hot against cool skin. Smooth and warm to the touch, you squeeze just above his hips, to the small of his back - tracing a line down the center curve until you’re just at the waistband of his pants. You peer up at him again, standing tall enough to press a kiss to his lips as a small offering.  

In many ways, you find this part of Zayne amusing. He’s not shy in the least bit, not really. He can meet your flirting with his own wit so well you’d go as far as calling him smooth. Charming in all the right ways. It’s fun to flirt with him and know he’ll always match your energy.  

But he’s surprisingly weak to directness. No beating around the bush, no euphemism or innuendos. Whenever you make your intentions as clear as you can are the few instances he seems to be sincerely surprised - almost coquettish in a way you find so charming on him when he’s often anything but. 

This specific attention draws it out of him most, and it’s fun. You think it’s less that the attention itself embarrasses him, and more that he finds it hard to admit that he enjoys it. Maybe it’s your own disposition speaking - but you like that aspect best. That he does like it despite himself, and that you get to exploit the few moments he lets himself be caught wanting such a thing.  

You can’t be sure if this is what he had in mind but it doesn’t change that he wore for you because you told him you liked it. And you do like it on him - both in memory and in aesthetics.  

They’re not clothes he’d pick for himself. Long and silky, an open chest and lace choker - layered necklaces and flowers. He looks like a prince out of a fairy tale, an unusually sweet appearance. He’s handsome enough on his own, really. Whenever you let your eyes linger too long you grow impatient.  

He always looks good. 

The clothes soften him is all. It’s a different look and you like it on him. You love it really - if you’re honest. Enough that every time he wears it a thousand thoughts run through your mind and none of them are especially appropriate. Surrounded by flowers, dressed in pink and white. Pretty. Zayne is handsome by nature, but it’s rare he ever looks so pretty. Pretty in the same daisy flowers are. He leaves you half-way between wanting to preserve him, string him into something nice - or wanting to ruin him completely.  

You pull away from the kiss, lips brushing his. A warm feeling settles in your stomach as you look at him again.  

“We’d better go now if you still want to,” You say slowly, eyes flickering to his as he turns the choice over in his head.  

Zayne doesn’t say anything but steps away from you. You find yourself ready to relent and go to dinner - but to your surprise he makes no move to leave. Instead he locks the door where it was unlocked and looks at you with a very faint blush. You laugh warmly at him, it’s just like him to do.  

“Guess we’re canceling,” You hum, pulling him towards you by the wrist. “Good boy for being honest,”  

“I was concerned for the patrons,”  

You laugh brightly at that. “I’m sure you were,”  

He trails behind you as you make your way to the bedroom, his hand in yours squeezed tight. You pull him without looking back, only stopping to shut the door behind you both. The room is dim as the sun gets close to setting - room painted in the warm shades of dusk. When the door closes, you crowd in on him until his back is pressed against it.  

He breathes a long, drawn out breath. The air in the room is thick, dense with tension. You draw your hands up the nape of his neck until both of them thread through his hair, tugging slight enough to draw a breath from him. You push up on your toes to kiss him like this, a hand on your back to hold you steady but obedient enough not to ask for anymore, not to pull you closer without permission 

Zayne always kisses desperately. His body is honest about his desires always, no exception to the rule. A shaky breath and a deep, murky desire , he’s eager for you when you slot your lips against his. You waste no time in stringing him along, giving him a deep kiss with tongue and teeth. You feel him melt in your grasp at the aggression, smiling into it - his sweet panting breaths like music to your ears.  

“So fucking cute,” You breathe, pulling away. His lips are pulled into a frown, but his eyes are something else entirely. He lets his forehead rest on yours.  

“You’re the only one who’d say that about me,”  

“I’m the only one who should,”  

His expression is honest. Eyes widening before the flush on his face goes deeper, glassier. He likes things like this. You always make sure to say it out loud just to see it, and it never fails to fan the flames of your desire. You loosen your grip, cradling his face with both hands to look at him more closely. A face reserved for you - hazy with anticipation and so eager. Wanting for your attention so seriously you feel your core throb just laying eyes on him. You kiss him again gentler, pulling away and pressing a thumb to his lip when you do. Zayne parts his lips unthinkingly. Your thumb slides against his tongue, watching as he closes around the digit. When you pull back, you brush his saliva against his lips, wetting them before kissing him again.  

“It’s good we stayed home,” You murmur. A kiss on the corner of his mouth as you speak. “I don’t know if I’d make it back to the car if we went to the restaurant,” Another, closer to his chin. “I’m sure I’d take my heels off and  get you hard under the table instead. You’re good at keeping a straight face so I’m sure we’d be fine,” One more, further down, closer to his pulse. “No one would catch us, so there’d be no good reason for me to stop doing it, either.”  

Zayne lets out a soft groan, something from the back of his throat. You trail down at to his neck, stopping your wet kisses to sink your teeth.  You suck a hickey into the open space. 

Zayne’s voice is a tremble - still on the edge of even. “You—That’d be… hard for me,”  

You kiss the bruise you leave, finger tugging at his lace choker to leave another one underneath it. 

“Right, of course. And you can’t make a mess even if you wanted to so you’d have to wait till after dinner,” You take a beat to bite down again leaving  a bigger mark this time. You feel the capillaries split underneath the dull scrape of your incisors as a hickey forms - throbbing as it bruises and blooms. “You’d have to wait until after dinner to get any relief, but I think I’d have to leave you on edge ‘till we got home,”  

“Why would you—?”  

“It’d be a waste to make you cum anywhere other than on my cock since that’s what I wanted anyway. Of course I’d feel a little sorry for you, so I’d take the edge off,” You trail down lower, nose brushing against his collarbone and clavicle as you stop to leave more marks. You hear Zayne inhale underneath you - making you smile. “I’d use my hand since it’s easier to tell when you’re going to cum but I can’t let you. And then, when you can’t hold it anymore - then we’d have to go home,”  

Zayne makes a noise. It’s a soft sound, throaty and desperate as you’ve set him on edge. Pleasantly needy. You kiss down his chest, over each brand new mark - adding color to the display of necklaces he already has on. You use another hand to slide down his chest, his stomach and waistband - until you settle over his cock. It’s hard, strained against your palm as you cup and squeeze. He lets he’s head fall back, eyes fluttering closed as you keep speaking.  

“But you’d have to wait a little while longer even we got home. You let me in here easier now,” You slide your hands around, squeezing his ass. Zayne makes a strained sound, muffling it as best he can. “But I can’t just shove it in right? You’re a good boy so you’d have to wait it out some more for me.”  

Zayne pants, eyes searching for you as the room slowly darkens. “My love,” 

“What is it, baby?” You hum. Your eyes meet as you rest, your thumb over the tip of his cock over his clothes. He lets out a shaky breath.  

“Please don’t tease me,” He says flatly.  

You laugh at him. It comes out a little meaner than you want, but it can’t be helped. “You don’t want me to?”  

He frowns at you. “No,”  

You pretend to frown. “Too bad. You’re fun to tease,” 

He looks at you with his face slightly pinched. “Please,”  

“I’ll play nice since you were a good boy for me today,” You praise. You see Zayne blush. “Think you can be good for me again?”  

He nods. You smile, pressing up to whisper against his ear. “Take these off and bend over the side of the bed. Wait for me,”  

Zayne meets your eyes. Obvious embarrassment has a flush crawling down your face, but he goes anyhow - waits for you as promised, as you creep to the other side of the room as you open a drawer in your bedroom. You strap into the harness first, tightening yourself into it until its snug - heavy weight between your legs secured. You take the lube next, assessing that there’s enough in the bottle to make it work. 

Your boyfriend waits for you like you've asked. Kind of. At the edge of his bed with his arms folded on the mattress and his knees on the floor - back arched. He’s slipped his pants just below his thighs but his boxers are on still. You turn a dim light on to keep the room from pitch black before you settle down behind him. Zayne looks over at you from his shoulder when you do - your hands on his hips as you bend yourself over him.  

It’s easier this way to talk to him, your chin on his shoulder and your body pressed to his spine - voice next to his ear. “I thought I told you to take this off,”  

Zayne tucks his chin. “I thought this would be fine,”  

You laugh “Is that right?” 

You do him the favor of leaving his pants on, pulling them down to his knees before you tuck your fingers in his boxers and pull them down entirely. Zayne flinches at the sudden change in temperature. You take a second to admire him. Smooth pale skin flushed rosy as you slide the boxers off, revealing him to you completely. His cock sits heavy, tip ruddy and leaking against your bed sheets as Zayne shudders from the friction. 

You run your finger on the underneath side of his shaft - watching his shoulders tremble at the featherlight sensation. Your lip twitches.“I barely touched you. Did you work yourself up thinking about what I said?”  

He clears his throat. “…It was very detailed.”  

You hum. “Yeah? What detail made you like this? The part about being teased or the part about being fucked?”  

You can see Zayne blush even deeper. It’s visible. His ears are red, but this time its all the way down his back. You don’t think you’ve ever seen it go down so far.  

“No answer?” You coo. 

“…If you already know, it’s impolite to ask,” 

“It’s fine to say it directly,” Your hand slides from his hips to his stomach “That you wanna feel me right here,”  

He shrinks underneath you, face buried in the mattress. You snicker at his reaction - nearly petulant with how he moves away.  

“Are you that embarrassed to say it? You’re good at dishing it out but you can’t handle it at all.”  

“It’s hard to say,”  

“I tell you stuff like that all the time,”  

A beat. “It’s different,”  

“It is? I see, I see. Think you can answer questions then? Just a yes or a no.”  

Zayne pauses, suspicious but unsure. “I don’t see why not,”  

“Do you want me to then?”  

“To what?”  

You grin. 

“Do you want me to fuck you, baby?  You haven’t told me straight once even though I’ve been so direct about exactly what I want to do. I thought maybe you need more details to make you feel comfortable,”  

You can hear him flounder. “That’s not—“  

“See, I’ve got such a pretty picture of you in my head already. You look just like this but you’re getting stretched on my cock and fucked half stupid,” You trace your hand down his spine “Holding you down so you can’t run away from it and making you cum until there’s nothing left to fuck out of you. But I can’t do it until you say yes, see? So it’s a bit of predicament.”  

Zayne’s voice is hoarse. “You’re being unfair,”  

“You said you could answer me right? So answer me. Just a yes or no, with your words and we can make something even prettier out of you together. Doesn’t that sound nice?”  

He’s shaking under you. You almost feel bad.  

Almost.  

“Y-yes. Yes, just -“  

“It’s alright baby. I’ve got you,” You coo at him, and you mean it. And you’re sure Zayne is more than fine with keeping quiet for the time being.  

You kiss down his spine over his clothes, not wanting to take the shirt off even still. All the way down to the small of his back, lower and lower. You use your hands to spread his ass apart, amused by the way he trembles.  

It seems like he catches on too late to what you’re going to do.  

“Wait, wait, you don’t need to—“  

The words fall on deaf ears as Zayne falls forward with a shudder, his hips giving out almost immediately as your tongue slips against his hole. You can hear him start to say something but each time the words seem to fall flat, dying in his mouth. Replaced with what you’re certain are choked out moans that he’s trying  desperately not to let out. You press your tongue flat against the tight rim until you fall into a steady rhythm, feeling him twitch on each pass. He’s a mess above you - you’re not sure if it’s from shame or pleasure or both, but he hasn’t made a single attempt to push you away from it and it’s only goading you further.  

You’re being relentless - for no real reason other than you want to, want to see how far he can be pushed this way. You collect your spit on your tongue before pushing into tight hole with a little effort. Zayne lets out a sound like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, his cock twitching endlessly. When you sink in with your tongue in his ass as far as you can, you use one of your hands to wrap around his shaft.  

Zayne hisses, a broken huff forced out of him immediately.  

“P-please, just—mm,”  

It’d be easy to make him cum like this, you think. You tease him with it, hand rubbing over the tip - thumb underneath the head and over the slit. He twitches hard in your grasp, and you know a little more would be enough.  

So you stop, pull your hands away completely and watch with amusement as he chases friction, air, anything and finds none. Hips stuttering as he seeks relief you refuse him so openly - but still trying his best not to appear impatient.  

It’s an open secret that all Zayne has to do to get what he wants is ask. Throw away his pride for a split second, just long enough to whimper out a simple turn of phrase and it’s his. Whatever he wants. If he can’t yet, then he’s still not where you want him.  

Zayne shudders when you pull away from him completely. Hand and mouth at once, a muffled sound of displeasure at the sudden loss of friction. 

“Felt good, baby? Seemed like it,”  

Zayne looks at you briefly from over his shoulder. You shiver at his expression, so troubled. So frustrated. You smile at him unhelpfully. 

“Did you have something to say?” You ask, goading. Zayne pauses.  

“…No,”  

“You sure?”  

You can hear it in his voice. “I’m certain,” 

You shrug, wordlessly opening the bottle of lube you’ve brought with you and pouring it into your fingers. Pressing yourself to his spine, you fold over him and slide your land lower. Your fingers rub a slow circle against his rim, amused as Zayne breathes shallowly.  

“Hm. Guess you’re not relaxed enough then,” You murmur, voice hot against the shell of his ear “Deep breath, sweetheart,”  

He lets out a soft affirmative. It’s muffled where he presses his face into the mattress, buried into his arms. It’s easier then normal to slip your first fingers in since he’s already relaxed - though the fit isn’t much less tight. Down to the knuckle in one smooth motion, Zayne groans. You pull back slightly, kissing at the expose nape of his neck as his shirt rests haphazard.  

When you’re sure a second one will fit, you add in a second more slowly. His shoulders are trembling. Breathing heavy, thighs tensed from the sensation. You let out a thoughtful hum and scissor your two fingers until it doesn’t feel like there’s any resistance.  

You pause, waiting a beat before pushing yourself deeper and curling your fingers up. It’s helpful you’ve done this enough time to have it memorized. Your fingers press up against his prostate with ease, knowing his body better then your own.  

It’s easy to tell when you’ve found it. Zayne moans. It’s loud and unabashed, the kind of sound you know is completely involuntary - no longer able to hold it in. You use your free hand to continue stretching him open - the other one reaching from his face. Your hand slips in the small space, carefully pulling him up by the chin. His expression is flushed, mildly startled - but not strong enough to escape from your grip.  

“No more hiding,” You tell him, sharper than before. His eyes go lidded, nodding in an absent way. His brows twitch as you rub against his prostate relentlessly. Shuddering, nearly at the tipping point of his coherence. His hands are clawing into the mattress underneath him as he does. You can see how bad he wants it, but his teeth are still firmly in his lip. “You’re still being stubborn about it, huh? Even though it feels good,”  

“I d-didn’t say it didn’t feel good,”  

“You’re shaking,” You point out plainly “You still won’t tell me what what you want? Hm?”  

Still nothing. You take a deep breath, considering your options before slowly adding another finger. Zayne gasps quietly, sweat forming at the base of his neck from the tension. With your middle, pointer, and ring finger pushed inside of him down to the knuckle, you find his prostate a second time. Without mercy, you thrust and curl and push up against it - pulling away from him to get a view of him bent over.  

Zayne’s cock is twitching, silky strings of pre-cum pooling at the floor underneath him. So red it almost looks painful, balls tight. His cock looks heavy and strained - needy. You use your other hand to tease his length, never once getting close enough to give him any relief.  

It takes you wrapping your hand just barely around the head to evoke a whine out of him.  

You stop again. Zayne chokes, hips stuttering at the lack of friction. He pushes back against you, chasing the pleasure but you’re gone before he can. You tsk as you watch him strain himself, but you still give him a minute to breathe.  

The room goes quiet, silent as you let him cool off before Zayne finally breaks the tension himself.  

“Please,” He begs, sounding almost helpless.  

You put your hand on his waist. “Please what, baby?”  

Zayne sighs, exasperated - then hiccups. His voice sounds so different - so out of it. “Please, my love—it’s too much, please,”  

“Is that so?”  

He turns his face towards you more, eyes asking for mercy. “Please.”  

You won’t budge on it, though.  

“Please what?”  

A beat followed by a shaky breath, voice small. Almost fragile.  

“Please let me cum,”  

Without hesitation, you wrap your fist around Zayne’s cock and fall back into a smooth pace fucking him open. You feel him crumple immediately under the weight of the pleasure, his body wracking with shivers. His moans growing louder, less coherent.  

“Good boy,” You praise, increasing the pressure as high up as you can as Zayne cries out. You feel him finally give into the touch completely, desperate and breathy as you pump his cock and fuck him open on your fingers. Your mind is occupied suddenly by the sight of him. Bent over at the waist and shaking, pushing himself into the mattress with his body clasped tight. Like he’s at an altar - vulnerable and waiting. “I won’t stop this time so let it out,”  

His weight collapses, body slumped as you watch the orgasm he’s been chasing wash over him in a single go. His whole body wracks, thrashing as the sensations overwhelm him - swearing under his breath as you touch him through his high until he’s begging you let him off and give him a breather. Thick, hot ropes of cum cover your fingers as Zayne comes down.    

You use whatever left to stroke the silicone cock between your legs, rather then letting it go to waste. Once your hand is free of the mess, you lean forward and kiss the small of Zayne’s back as he re-collects himself.  

“You did good for me, sweetheart. It wasn’t all that hard to say right? But maybe it’d be better if we kept practicing,”  

“Please have mercy on me,”  

You grin. “No can do. One more time, yeah? Tell me what you want and it’s yours,”  

Zayne lets out a sigh, long and resigned. He looks at you from over his shoulders with a furrowed brow before speaking. “…Please put it in,”  

You pause before breaking out into laughter. He groans from embarrassment. 

“Sorry, sorry - I’m not making fun of you. Promise. It was better this time, so good work. Just relax, alright? For me,”   

Zayne nods. Gives in, ultimately - pushing back up on his elbows as you line the tip of your cock against him, sliding it up and against fluttering hole before pushing in with a silent promise to clean him up after this. Zayne tenses only briefly as you push the tip in, watching with heavy eyes as he takes it.  

“You’re stretching for me so nice,” You hum, both hands on his ass and pulling as you watch the pink rim open up around the narrowest part. Opening slowly as you slide your hips, his body reacting instantly.  

As much as it takes to get him to relax, this works every time.  

The tension melts out of his body like candle wax over low flame, hot and heady. “It’s not all in yet but you’re feeling it already. Maybe this was what you wanted, wearing this for me,” You murmur.  

“Aah, aah,”  

You slide yourself in, rocking your hips in measured beats until Zayne adjusts. All the way until you’ve bottomed out completely, cock swallowed all the way down to the base. Glancing where you’re sheathed inside of Zayne, you admire the view carefully. Holding still to let him adjust to the intrusion - you slide your hand underneath the billowy fabric of his shirt. It’s displaced - the nape of his neck and line of his back exposed. Blush-toned with a thin sheen of sweat rolling down the muscles while he hides himself away.  

You had plans to be kinder to him but they go out of the window fast.  

You place a hand on the back of his neck to keep him pinned down while the other one holds his hip. Your words come without ceremony.  

“Tell me when you cum, but you don’t have to ask,” You say. Not particularly nice. “So we’re even,”  

Before Zayne can manage a single coherent reply, you press down on him firm and pull your cock all the way before pushing it back in. It’s one swift gesture, not punishing - but quick enough to leave him off-center and clawing at the bedsheets at the sudden motion. 

A thrill crawls up your spine at the sight of him. The sound of him. The touch, the way he trembles under your grasp. Your stomach turns on itself from the sheer elation of watching him fall apart for you without anywhere to run to. Perfectly pliant and made to take whatever pleasure you can give him. You build a pace up slowly as the flames of arousal lick at your core, grinding yourself into textured end of your strap each time. Once you find the right pace, you find it hard to focus on anything other then fucking him.  

So you don’t bother on thinking about anything else, keeping your grip firm. Consistent and deep, eager as the room fills with the sound of skin hitting skin. Zayne’s moans come out stronger now, pushed out and spilling from his lips like a broken record. You hear him swear under his breath every now and again, when it gets to be too much. A litany of cries that sound sweeter than the chorus of a songbird - you find there’s nothing you want more then to fuck him completely out of his mind while you try and memorize the melody.  

Zayne doesn’t last long at this rate, and it’d be unfair for you to expect him too. But it surprises you just how quickly it all comes down. It doesn’t feel like you’ve been fucking him all that long, especially since he only came a little while ago.  

But you can tell - from the tremble of his hips and the sudden grip on the sheets that he’s close. 

“My love I’m going to—“ 

“Cum for me baby. That’s all you need to do,”  

And so he does, without any hesitation. Nothing comes out for it, but he does cum - and you see it in how he trembles and seizes. All the muscles in his body going taut like a bowstring before he breaks into something finer, like threads of fabric falling apart. He cums hard but nothing comes out, and he lays there in the aftermath.  

You wait a while, but you stay. Sheathed inside of him, kissing a line up his back, at his shoulder.  

“Aren’t you glad we skipped dinner?”  

Zayne laughs tiredly. “Yes, I suppose I am. I would like a break though,”  

“Oh?”  

He sounds embarrassed but firm. “A reward, maybe. I-If it’s alright.”  

You have the inkling that reward just means him laying between your legs. He’s worked hard enough to have it.“Mm. If you want. But I’m not finished with you yet, so it’ll be a little short-lived.”  

“That’s fine. More then fine,”  

You laugh at him. “Right. Then yes. You can have whatever you want,”  

♡ a/n ; some notes about zayne here!! i know a lot of people write him as a rather obedient sub but in my honest opinion - i think zayne has a hard time seriously relinquishing control. it's such a center-piece of his life that giving it up and really letting someone have that sort of influence on him makes him a little shy - even though he is imo notoriously forward.

so i think he can be a touch stubborn / a little bratty when he's being sincere about being submissive. rather then just playing along with you if that makes sense!!

anyhow thanks for reading!!! rbs and tags always appreciated

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I didn't want to say that here since you love Leona now but I actually hate that lion guy😭😭 I feel like he would bully me for just existing!

Like this part in book 3 when he made us fight his dorm members so we could stay in the dorm makes me look at him like this 😒 like sir I'm magicless and homeless and physically weak and you want me to fight your muscled dorm members + they have magic!😭😭 Why?! At this rate I would have slept in one of the class rooms instead 😞I mean it was Grim do the fighting but still! But that's not the only reason I have other reasons why I hate him 😭 (I'm scared of him lol)

I have beef with that lion guy😞

I don't see myself loving him any soon but who knows maybe one day I would feel in love with him like you 🫢

Lemme tell you this right here and right now: I have learned from observation that there are no bigger L*ona haters out there than L*ona stans themselves 💀 We They will say, "Leona Kingscholar is literally the fucking worst character not just in Twisted Wonderland, but in all media that has ever and will ever be conceived. Hate that guy, what a shitty scumbag," one moment and then turn right around and kiss our their lion merch with all the tender love and care a human could possibly lavish an object with.

ANYWAY, that's beside the point. I don't like this character of which you speak of.

Early main story Leona is definitely the type to bully the crud out of others 💀 To be fair to him though, honestly any dorm (other than Heartslabyul) would have been reluctant to house a pair that they have little to no personal connection with. The students at NRC are known for their pride and reluctance to help each other out, right? Night Raven College also has a culture of "the strong obey the weak", so to have Yuu and Grim "earn their keep" by demonstrating their strength makes sense. The other dorms would have probably demanded similar things of them, regardless of how downtrodden and dreary their circumstances are. It's not like Azul or the mob students showed Yuu and Grim any mercy before. Most of the student population is not nice or welcoming, especially if there's nothing in it for them to gain. In this case, Leona would be gaining two temporary students that aren't deadweights to him. Of course, that doesn't justify what he did/said in book 3 or any of the other things he did/said. It doesn't mean you have to like the guy for what he did. It's just that I don't know if that one scene is a specific-to-Leona asshole move. I do want to point to the Episode of Octavinelle manga too; in that, Leona doesn't make Yuuta fight mobs to sleep over, he accepts Yuuta's cooking abilities as a substitute. This loops right back around to what I was saying about "earning your keep" and how most NRC students won't want to help you out unless you have something to offer them in return. For Yuuta, that was his culinary skills. For in-game Yuu and Grim, it had to be combat prowess. Is it cruel in comparison to letting them sleep over in return for nothing? Yes, absolutely. But is it in character for them to be selfish about it? Also yes, absolutely. I think it's fine to have as a characterization moment--though whether you enjoy this or not is up to the individual fan.

I get that he's not going to appeal to everyone. Leona definitely comes off as intimidating and he has plenty of other traits to loathe. Every character will have people that dislike them or even outright hate them. That's completely normal and should be expected, since everyone has different experiences, tastes, and perspectives to bring to the table--each equally as valid as the last. Feelings can change over time, feelings can stay the same. Whatever happens, it's fine! No one decent is going to hold a (water) gun to your head and force you to like L*ona. Enjoy fandom in your own way!

That being said 💦💦 I will advise that you avoid sending messages of, "I actually HATE this character that you happen to like" into people's inboxes. It's okay to have a different opinion than the fan you're expressing the opinion to, but you should keep in mind that it's not always appropriate to voice it or to press the matter. I might be generally indifferent about discussing why we like or dislike certain characters, but others might not be so happy to get a message that could be considered bashing on their favorite(s). Again, just be mindful of others and their boundaries!

[trans-bastard-dude]

i like the human domestication guide as much as the next mf, but like, the affini don’t hit as hard as other aliens or monsters that would keep a person as a pets. like they’re aliens for sure, but they don’t feel very alien or monsterous. lemme explain

so, one of the things about hdg is it xenophilla media, which is cool, i like to see it, but they don’t really scratch the itch that i, someone who would definitely date an alien or monster, has. maybe im missing a key point of the media on why they present that way, but frankly, if imma reed something about a alien keeping a human as a pet and using drugs to make them happy and like a lap cat, i just do not see the appeal in them presenting themselves as humanoid.

like think about it, they’ve evolved to be a cluster of sentient plant matter. they’re vines with brains, they could very well take any form they please, and they can. it’s mentions on the website. and i just don’t see why there ain’t more depictions of the affini being kinda monsterous. like don’t get me wrong, they do sound intimidating. they’re big, can grab you with tendrils, fill you with drugs that make you love them and are basically immortal. that’s some horror movie monster shit (my type of party), BUT THEY ARE ALWAYS DRAWN AS JUST CHICKS MADE OF PLANT.

where are the drawing of the affini that look like an eldritch horror of grafted on plant bits with no discernible gender presentation and look scary as all fuck but in a way where you really just wanna walk over and investigate? bc that would be my kryptonite right there.

how long until i just make a damn fic? it will happen i know it will



[preeningpisces]

Gojo NSFW Headcanons

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate/write something about any of these 🩵

I make fun of him a lot in these, I couldn't stop myself I'm afraid

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby f!reader

◉ We all know he’s a tease, he runs on bastard energy. There may or may not have been a few incidents where he denied too much, took too long, and legit made your pussy dry up—you never let him forget when it happens too. Good, knock this bitch down a peg

◉ Speaking of peg, I think we as a community have agreed this guy is a switch. Being the strongest & always having to be in control makes giving up control appealing & relieving for a lot of ppl, Gojo included

◉ In fact, I think you get the most emotional reactions from Gojo when he’s being submissive because he trusts you & is free to loosen up the tight hold he has over himself. So mushy gushy

◉ Literally does not stfu in bed—he just streams his consciousness when he’s having sex. Everything in his mind just comes out. Which sometimes leads to ridiculous scenarios, like the time he accidentally moaned pizza because he was hungry

◉ Goofy-ass man in bed, but he can be very serious & intense too when he wants to be—yum

◉ Loves loves loves quickies, especially if you’re wearing a skirt and the risk of his cum rolling down your thigh is present. Especially loves it when you're all 'Satoru, we can't do it here >:[' and he relents, and then a few moments later you go '....well, i mean maybe we can just makeout a bit,' and then suddenly he's fingering you, and you're giving him a handjob. Whoops

◉ A live male-whimpering asmr audio, he is noisy af in bed like he doesn’t try to keep quiet at ALL. This makes sneaky sex in public places super stressful, you gotta gag him with his blindfold more often than not

◉ Also likes role play, especially corny porn tropes, like “oh no, I can’t pay for my pizza“ 10/10 super fun time. Y'all are giggling the whole time

◉ Pretty much willing to try anything once, within reason. Has a high sex drive, but isn't too picky about what you do. Very spontaneous, and instinctive--all do, no think. This means there isn’t really a strict ‘I’m dom your sub now’ approach to sex, you two just go with the flow. Sometimes it changes often in one encounter, other times it doesn’t change at all

◉ Bad habit of tearing your clothes off. He’s too excited, and of course he can buy you a new one, so why does it matter?

◉ If he’s blindfolding you, he has to wear his blindfold too; he just thinks it’s too funny. Pretends he can’t see & intentionally misses and feels around like a loser. “I can’t find your pussy!” in an awful Velma impression. God I hate him

◉ I’m sorry I can’t stop thinking of stupid scenarios in bed with him LMFAO

◉ Is a slut and sends you pics all the time, tho sometimes it’ll just be his balls at odd angles for funsies (I literally can’t stop I’m sorry)

◉ Very grope-y. You’ll just be minding your business when this lanky menace comes up behind you, and feels up all your soft parts. He just enjoys squeezing, and kneading anywhere you’re squishy

◉ Unfortunately, he is one of those types that will pinch your belly or love handles, intending it to be flirty. It makes you think he’s poking fun at you, at least in the early stages of your relationship. Eventually you accept he’s doing it because he likes touching you everywhere. I’d say he’ll be respectful and stop touching you, but I’m sorry I don’t think he would tbh 😭 this is why gege murked him

[wordy-little-witch]

I am now hip deep in the Edge of Midnight campaign from legends of avantris and lemme tell you some shit -

1) I would lay down my life for Jericho Sticks without any hesitation. Torbek and Jericho are my sons now, no takesies backsies.

2) Lethica and Marius are so perfectly aligned to be end game lovers but I personally adore the idea of them being queerplatonic if only bc it's funny to watch people be confused and I think Lethica would adore that.

3) you can pry the concept of Briggsy having a some kind of magical fantasy cellphone equivalent from my cold dead hands - sending stone or smth idfk - and he's been keeping his buddy/boyfriend Torbek updated on all this like "Becky you would not BELIEVE what happened today-" ((listen I know the flirting bit between them in the yuletide one-shot was a feycurse but leave me alone it's funny as fuck))

4) briggsy @ jericho in ep 24 appropos nothing: Jerry, maybe we have to kiss ((sad, silly twinks with Literal Darksides are his type /j))

5) I have a friend-crush on Nikkie and I will never recover

6) I have an unyielding NEED to have Jericho get a final hit on a boss and yell yeehaw

7) I know stylistically Jericho doesn't have "skin" but I personally hc that his clothes aren't effectively his skin, he has a burlap body - and he has "tattoos" in the form of embroidery. It started when he had to stitch up his own cuts and stuff and he just kept it up.

8) Only Yorgrim has any constant sense of cooking in an actual kitchen-like setting. Farryn, Marius, and Briggsy can do journey or on-the-road cooking, but it's never.... great. Lethica burns everything somehow or gets the bright idea to 'experiment', and it's never good - she's fine if she's got clear end goals. Jericho is understandably skittish around fire due to his body and straw, but he is the closest to being able to cook well and do so semi regularly.

9) Virgil is a weird mix of a hater and lowkey overprotective. He does hate being imprisoned, but also he's kinda bound here so he HAS to keep this disaster of a bard safe. He refuses to admit he might have a soft spot. He is Stressed.

10) Farryn doesn't get the appeal of Girls Nights, but Jericho does!!! They join Lethica for some fun relaxation. Briggsy once asked why Jericho was allowed since he's also a dude, and Lethica just responded "he's allowed to be there - on account of him being a scarecrow and not a literal man after all." It's an inside joke which later has to be explained - Jericho is nonbinary but doesn't rightly care about stuff like that.

11) Yorgrim is the group dad, no I will not explain.

12) sometimes after a battle, Lethica and Marius will help stitch up some of Jericho's tears. Farryn may also add in random flowers she finds around because it makes him happy.

13) Briggsy is small but mighty. The only person he has yet to pick up and carry is Yorgrim - he swears that one day that tombstone will be gone and he'll be able to do it. It's all the rock's fault, he's sure of it.

Spoilers under the cut (caught up to present)

OKAY so I am caught up completely and have decided that Canon is not important leave me alone

• Yorgrim did not die - he got wounded heavily but survived.

• Farryn almost got taken but they got to her in time. She is mute for a time due to injuries and trauma - idk if she ever talks again bc we could use more sign language in the world. Maybe it comes and goes, fuck if I know, idk and idc

ONWARDS TO SILLIES

• Lethica strong armed her way into giving Jericho The Talk after he revealed he had no idea what a penis was. Scarecrows cannot blush, but apparently his fiendish glow can ebb and flow and he glows much MUCH brighter when he's embarrassed - she tries so hard not to laugh.

• Adella and Jericho btw are simply besties. His "crush" on her is a friend crush and Phillip just finds it painfully cute. ((Also -> Jericho has mommy issues and Adella always wanted a son/nephew/little brother. Peaceful alignment))

• Dark Mode Marius is a colossal flirt but still a giant dweeb. He's cool and suave until someone flirts back - then he's a mess.

• Briggsy is very happy with his Kannon & makes "shooting my shot" jokes at every and any opportunity

• Yorgrim, with his reward, manages to finally lay many souls tonrest but he still carries the tombstone on journeys - just not constantly now. He still believes he must pay penance, but it's a little easier to share the burden.

• Farryn, with her own reward, has not chosen to activate it yet. Something tells her to wait, to bide her time and remain. She does, however, get a little more at ease with the others. She and Jericho have come to an understanding, too - that being they they are a package deal, no takesies backsies, and they refer to each other as twin, much to the confusion of many, many, many people. WLW and NBLM solidarity.

• Jericho is pining HARD for Marius, but he's absolutely terrified of damaging the friendship so everyone is watching two oblivious dummies look longingly into each other.

• POLYAMORY POLYAMORY POLYAMORY

• Marius grows rather fond of Virgil, and the sentiment is very much NOT reciprocated bc this angry knight vampire is not good enough for his vessel and he's mad about it.

• Yorgrim: I've only had my friends for a few days, but if anything happened to them, I'd kill everyone in Druskenvald and then myself.

• I fully expect for Jericho to somehow befriend an enemy in disguise, not realize, and accidentally fuck up the evil plan with the powers of puns, music and friendship (/j)

• the first time the party sees Jericho presenting more feminine, he's been lended one of Lethica's dresses after his own clothes got torn up and the rest are being washed. Marius has a nosebleed and faints. Briggsy is staring somewhat respectfully. Lethica is trying valiantly not to laugh. Farryn and Yorgrim regret not dying when they had the chance.

• Marius: i cannot have a relationship because I have sworn to follow the duchess of sin

Lillith: whoa hold up, Do Not use me as an excuse to avoid the cutie pie over there. Besides, he has a demon. I'm queen of hell. I can make a small exception.

Marius: shit

• Briggsy Bi Icon: OH if ONLY Jerry here had a DASHING KNIGHT to SAVE THEM from this PERILOUS INCIDENT

Jericho: captain, I'm just getting off of a horse??

Marius: no no Briggsy has a point, no maiden should be unaccompanied or unassisted. Allow me-

Lethica&Farryn: We Know What You Are

• Yorgrim is watching all this inter party flirting and is definitely wondering if he's gonna have to have an aside with everyone about flirting tactics and communication skills. Briggsy is making it worse by enabling everyone.

• Farryn gets some sweet, succulent healing, that is all.

[madlori]

Fandom icebergs

So, lemme take you on a lil tour of the fandom rabbit hole I just fell down for something I didn't even know was a fandom.

So I like to watch Smosh Pit Reddit story videos, I play them while I work, etc. Reading Reddit stories is one of my online time sucks (it's my life goal to always be current on Best Of Redditor Updates), and having a non-threateningly appealing blond man read them aloud to be reacted to by a rotating cast of two snarky listeners was right up my street.

I started watching more of these a few weeks ago, just thanks to the algo more or less, and then realized that...this wasn't just a random thing that a few people do.

Smosh Pit is one channel among many run by Smosh, which is (I learned) a group of comedy YouTubers who do a variety of things ranging from these Reddit videos, to a podcast (Smash Mouth) to various reacting videos, comedy sketches, and gaming bits. It's a whole...Smoshverse. I don't really care to get into all of it but it's there.

And it has a Fandom.

So the non-threateningly appealing blond man above is Shayne Topp, who's...sort of the quasi-ringleader of Smosh. He's one of a small group of main cast and has been with the troupe since 2015.

I noticed that in some of the more recent videos he was wearing a wedding ring (he'd commented in previous videos about being single) and I thought oh, Shayne got married. That's nice. I thought no more of it.

But then.

The algo showed me a video that made me realize that he is actually married to...fellow Smosh cast member Courtney Miller, who joined the same time as him.

Oh, I thought. That's sweet. I'd seen her as one of the rotating cast members reacting to Reddit stories but never put it together.

But then...I found out the whole story.

Apparently, since 2015, a HUGE part of this show's fandom was shipping these two. Hardcore. To the point that they both got pretty uncomfortable with it, and actually made videos/statements asking people to please chill TF out, they're just friends, quit being weird about it.

Ok, fair enough. The RPF shipping of them did seem to calm down a bit after that (reportedly - I have no firsthand knowledge of any of this).

But then.

On APRIL FOOL'S DAY of last year, they announced - out of the blue - that they had gotten married. Instagram photos and everything.

Of course people immediately thought it was a prank.

Spoiler: It was NOT a prank. They are, in fact, married, and had successfully (arguably) kept their relationship secret until THIS MOMENT when they announced their marriage.

People Magazine did a feature on this. This was big news.

Can you imagine? Being in a fandom, shipping two of the people hardcore, giving up on it after many denials, and then...THEY'RE FUCKING MARRIED? I'd have loved to have been a fly on the wall of this fandom last April. Talk about a bombshell. Fandom hed explodey, indeed.

Anyway. I just think it's funny, and props to them for guarding their privacy.

And they're freaking adorable.

[satansapostle6]

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter One

Chapter Two: …And Into the Mist

“So, what’s next?” Luke asked, looking to Katherine in the driver’s seat of the stolen Camaro. “Now that I’m officially an accessory?”

“Aw, you’re being modest,” Katherine joked. “Without you, who would’ve been the lookout?”

“You seriously planned that?” he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Of course,” she scoffed, speeding down to the motel.

“But, you didn’t even ask me to come work you,” he pointed out.

“I’ve been doing this a while,” she sighed, pulling into the motel parking lot.

“So you steal cars wherever you go?” he asked, his tone more conversational than accusatory.

“Last one got destroyed in a fight with a griffin, so I needed a new one,” Katherine explained. “I saw the keys locked in this one on the way up here. So, I took the opportunity.”

“You’re very observant,” Luke noticed. “You were never trained?”

“Better; I’ve been on my own since I was twelve.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed, understanding her experiences. “So, are you gonna tell me what this hunt is that we’re supposed to be going on?”

Katherine readied herself for a long conversation as the two of them headed back into the dirty motel room.

“Alright. Lemme ask you this; if you could answer to someone other than the gods, would you?” she crossed her arms.

“What are you saying?” Luke looked up at her as he sat down, bewildered.

“I’m saying… wouldn’t you go for a regime change if you could?” she posed a question.

“Is that even possible?” he asked her.

“Yeah. It is,” she nodded. “You could serve someone who isn’t your father, or Zeus.”

“What makes you think I don’t like my father?” Luke asked cautiously. “Or, Zeus?”

“Well, for one, you’re here,” she pointed out, “And I didn’t even have to take anything off.”

“You’re telling me that was an option?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Look. When you told me you were a child of Hermes, I saw the way you looked, and I filled in the blanks for myself,” Katherine Montalvo stated. “The gods don’t give a shit about us. You went unclaimed, or at least unnoticed. Tell me if I’m wrong.”

There was nothing but a decent pause, as Luke considered what she said.

“Look, I know how it goes. I didn’t know my mother was my mother until I was thirteen. I had to figure out being a demigod on my own,” she frowned. “Even with my father being the asshole he was, she hardly lifted a fucking figure to help me. Look at all the unclaimed, and the shit goes on all over the world; the gods don’t care about us!” she exclaimed.

Luke sat for a moment, listening to her words.

“They don’t care about anyone!” she reasoned. “They’ve never been parents to any of us. They don’t give a shit about us! But imagine if we could get on their level! Imagine if no one could ignore us!”

Luke felt just as broken and downtrodden as she did. He’d known for years, ever since he was a child, that life had been unfair. He’d often wished when he was younger that he could do something about it, and fight for some sort of attention from his father, which was something he’d since given up on.

Not only did he find the prospect of somehow becoming as powerful as the gods to be appealing, but he was also lured by the darkness of Katherine’s eyes. There was something strangely manic about her, a raw sort of energy that he found hypnotic and contagious.

“Listen. I’ve been hearing this… voice. Like how I heard my mother’s, but it wasn’t hers.”

Luke Castellan met her eyes in shock, her words resonating with him.

“Wait. This voice,” he spoke up, “What’s it like?”

“The voice,” Katherine explained, “It’s deep, and… jarring. Like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It… it knows things. And it’s shown me things I could never dream of before.”

“Like, things that could make you more powerful?” Luke questioned. “Things that turned out helpful?”

“You hear him too,” she realized, searching his face in wonder. “Kronos. He speaks to you, too.”

“Kronos?” Luke asked. “The Titan? That’s who it is?”

“Yeah. He calls out to me, Luke. If I’m the one who resurrects him, glory and power are mine.”

“So, he really does speak to you, too!” he concluded. “He wants you to bring him back,” he whispered.

“Luke, we could bring him back,” Katherine scoffed. “Together, we could be the ones who help him rise back to power. Do you know what kind of rewards we’d get for that sort of thing?!”

“So it’s real,” he concluded. “Kronos chose us to be his soldiers.”

“Yeah. He did,” she insisted. “Together, we could bring him back, and be gods in the new world! If we succeed, we don’t have to answer to the gods, we could take their place!”

“That’s what I’ve always wanted,” Luke confided in her. “My whole life, I’ve just been a shadow. Why should my father and the other absentee landlords on Olympus get to stand in the spotlight?”

“Then what’s the issue? Help me find him. There are clues all over! If we listen to the voice, we can find him, and bring him back!”

“Alright. I’ll come with you,” he decided. “When I get back, I’ll tell everyone at camp I was on the quest. What did any of them ever do for me anyways?” he said bitterly.

“That camp is bullshit,” she scoffed. “You think the god of wine cares about demigods? Everyone knows he’s just there on a punishment. I’ve met demigods who’ve left Camp Half-Blood. They’re happier making it on their own.”

“Really?” Luke asked. “Who?”

“I’ve met a few. But I remember meeting Emma Pacheco, and Leo Jordan in Texas.”

“Oh. I remember them,” Luke realized. “She’s a daughter of Athena, and he’s a son of Hephaestus, right?”

“She’s a daughter of Athena, and he’s dead,” Katherine remembered. “He died in a Gorgon attack. I tried to help him, but… I couldn’t. Emma was devastated.”

Luke looked at her sympathetically, realizing that battle scars tended to run deeper.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a low, apologetic tone. “I’ve lost people too.”

“When I was younger, I thought living my life on the road would be easier. I thought I’d never have to know anyone long enough to care, and then, I’d never get hurt.”

Luke thought for a moment, finding that was mostly his experience in the brief amount of time he’d spent on his own as a child.

“But, that wasn’t how it happened?”

“The longer you’re on the road, the more people you meet,” she sighed, “Even if you don’t know them long. Eventually, you see more people die than most people do in a lifetime.”

“I can’t imagine it’s safe leaving the camp for that long,” he reasoned.

“That, and demigods aren’t known to live long anyways,” Katherine stated. “This lifestyle in general, it… it pretty much only ends one way.”

“Then, why do you do it?” he questioned. “Why don’t you, I don’t know… live a normal life?”

“‘Normal’?” she scoffed. “As a demigod?”

“Yeah. I guess we don’t get a whole lot of options,” he agreed understandingly.

“I dropped out of the sixth grade. My dad was an addict. I’m not giving up much by hunting monsters,” she said humorously. “At least this way, I’m helping somebody.”

“I get that,” Luke offered. “I really do.”

“Yeah. We don’t have many options,” Katherine reasoned, “So Kronos is our best bet.”

“So, what’s our first move?” he asked. “Where’s our first stop?”

“In my dreams, I saw the Underworld,” she told him.

“So you’ve had those dreams too?” he questioned.

“Yeah.”

“What else did you see?” he wondered.

“I don’t know. For me, the visions come gradually. I think we need to get on the road,” she thought, “Both of us.”

“You think that’ll work?” Luke asked, frustrated with the vague dreams and voices.

“I’ve never been able to force the voice. I something just has to trigger it,” she rationalized.

“Katherine. This is crazy. I just met you,” Luke thought aloud. “I have no idea how long we’ll be gone. They’ll never believe I’m on the quest. I finished it almost a week ago.”

“I have an idea,” she proposed. “I have a car, I’ll drive you back to New York. You can find a new excuse, and get us some supplies, and we can go off and find Kronos.”

“Yeah, but where?” Luke demanded. “Where do we even start?”

“Well, I wasn’t completely sure, but I was thinking I’d try the Underworld,” Katherine suggested.

“The Underworld? Without a plan?” Luke asked skeptically.

“Despite me carrying you through the woods on my back for two days straight, I think we have a shot,” she frowned.

Luke considered the idea for a moment.

“Alright. I’ll stock up on supplies and weapons at the camp, and then we’ll go to the Underworld. I just don’t know how we’ll get there,” he frowned.

“Easy. There’s an entrance in Central Park,” she informed him.

“There is?” Luke asked.

“Yeah. The Door of Orpheus,” Katherine replied.

“But, don’t you need music to open it?” he recalled.

“Yeah. I can sing,” she nodded.

“Can you?”

“Yeah. I can,” Katherine smiled sarcastically.

Both of them were alerted by a loud, aggressive knock on the door.

“Housekeeping!” a man’s voice shouted.

Luke went to get the door, as Katherine quickly grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t open the door!” she whispered urgently.

“Why not?” he whispered back.

“That’s not housekeeping!”

“What, you think it’s a monster?” Luke said in a low murmur.

“No. It’s not a monster,” she snapped, grabbing her bag from the bed. “Open the door, and then run.”

Katherine quickly tossed the keys at Luke, as he caught them instinctively. He watched her as she reached for something tucked into the back of her belt.

“Get the car going,” she said through her teeth.

“What are you gonna do?” Luke demanded.

“Open the fucking door!” she whispered.

Knowing not to ask any more questions, Luke threw the door open, rushing the man on the other side of the door and shoving him to the ground. Another man followed. Feeling the need to help Katherine, Luke unsheathed his dagger, only to be interrupted by Katherine herself.

“Go! Start the car!” she yelled.

Luke stared in horror as he heard gunshots, looking to see her holding the gun that accompanied them. Thinking fast, he ran to the Camaro less than ten feet away in the parking lot. He jumped into the car, waiting and on edge as he watched.

It didn’t take many more gunshots for him to see Katherine running toward the car, leaving behind two still bodies on the ground behind her. He unlocked the car door as she jumped in, screaming at him to drive.

Luke pealed out of the parking lot in the Camaro, keeping calm as Katherine sat in the seat beside him, pistol cocked in her lap as she cautiously looked out the window.

“What the fuck was that?!” Luke screamed as he drove their getaway car as fast as humanly possible.

“Just drive,” she muttered. “Don’t stop until we’re out of the city.”

“Okay, if I’m gonna be an accessory to a double homicide you committed,” Luke insisted, “I’m gonna at least need the bullet points.”

“Fine, you women are so needy!” Katherine rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say, I killed a guy in St. Louis, and he’s got family.”

“This guy you killed,” Luke said as calmly as he could, “Why did you kill him?”

“That thousand year-old map I have? The one that I use to try and figure out what actually happened to Kronos? How do you think I got it?” she asked impatiently.

“Why?” he asked subsequently.

“Because. Usually, when you steal artifacts that have survived millennia, you tend to run into some complications,” she snapped. “Besides. The guy wasn’t exactly a pillar of society.”

“Why?” Luke inquired curiously. “What happened?”

Katherine sighed, staring down at the gun in her lap before answering.

“I was dating this rich guy. He owned a museum, and that map came into his possession. He didn’t know what it was, because he didn’t speak Ancient Greek, but obviously, I did,” she explained. “I wanted the map, and I wanted out. The end.”

“Wait,” Luke stopped her, “You… You dated a guy who owned a museum?”

“Yeah,” she responded stiffly.

“How—How old was he?” he asked.

“Thirty-six,” she said.

Luke looked at her as he drove, seeing emotion in her eyes for the first time.

“How old were you?” he asked.

She turned to look at him, seeing that he asked knowing she had no comforting answer for him.

“I was young,” she said simply.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he breathed, unable to imagine the extent of her pain.

“You don’t know me,” Katherine told him, pushing him away in a way that wasn’t physical. “You don’t know me at all, okay? You don’t know what I feel, and you don’t know what I’ve had to do to survive.”

“No,” he agreed. “I don’t.”

“Trust me. You don’t need to,” she assured him, still unable to remove the gun from her lap.

Katherine knew that she’d never felt an affinity to anyone. Her father, the only parent she’d ever known, wasn’t much of a parent, and no one she’d met on the road since she left home was reliable. But the scar beneath his right eye told her everything she needed to know.

She knew Luke had been broken down the same way she had, which was also the only reason she’d decided he was the one to recruit on her mission to find the Titan of time, the father of the gods. Katherine knew she needed dependability in Luke, and she knew the only way they could both succeed was as soldiers first and people second.

-

Chapter Three

[lu-dao-writes]

𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚋𝚞𝚜!𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ♡ ˊˎ- Nanami as an incubus and his relationship with you! With Gojo on the side. (Idek what this summary is😭)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔(𝓈) / 𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓈 ♡ ˊˎ-  Incubus Nanami & Gojo, Gojo being Nanami’s wingman fr, gender neutral reader, black coded reader, Nanami being stubborn, themes of sex, mentions of Nanami touching himself, & switches of povs.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒜/𝒩 ♡ ˊˎ- I’m a slut for this man, what can I say y’all✋🏼😔? But spooky season is upon us and I’m thinking about supernatural shit and dark themes✨ But idk what happened to the form of this? Listen, I’m at the airport waiting for my flight and I’m bored and want this out lmao🤪. I’m hoping to do a part 2 where it’s more smutty based, but smut is hard y’all😩. I appreciate all the likes on my last post btw!🙏🏼🥺💕. Minors/ ageless blogs DNI please and lemme know any mistakes or missed tags.

He’s not fond of his nature, but he has learned to live with it. I mean he has to lmao.

He’s stubborn with his feeding schedule, and his a little picky. As usual Kento is more worried about getting that bread.

Gojo gets on his head about not taking care of himself (of course in a more playful/blasé manner, but he cares his Nanamin).

Gojo also knows when he hasn’t fed because it shows in Nanami’s appearance first before it show in his attitude.

His eyes gets a bit sunken in, the dark circles get darker, his hair looks dull, then he gets more uncanny from there if prolonged (which hasn’t happened, Nanami’s not that careless)

Then comes the attitude! Nanami’s patience grows very thin and he’s a mixture of tired, weak, & hungry. His already sharp and witty quips at Gojo become more sharper and a bit meaner, but nothing that goes over the line.

He’s not down for Gojo’s games essentially. Even more so now😗.

When he meets you, you were his server at this cute little cat cafe that Gojo dragged him to (he didn’t give the man a chance to say no).

Nanami doesn’t mind cats, he’s just not looking forward to getting their fur out from his clothes.

But you were a sight for sore eyes. Every inch of you being taken in by Nanami’s shade covered eyes and that familiar hunger in his belly rose its ugly head slightly.

He had to swallow hard and remind himself to actually answer you and remember his order.

He ignores Gojo’s knowing smirk and childish little prods at his ankles, instead focusing on his beverage of choice and listening to your voice as you take Gojo’s order. Once you’re gone is when he gripes at him.

Your voice, no matter how it sounds, is soothing and appealing to his ears, and your scent…

It’s what keeps him coming back.

All the cat hair on his clothes is worth it if he gets to keep seeing you.

You can say he’s a bit addicted to ya.

Eventually he manages to get your number and he noticed how every time he came, you were always his server, not that he’s complainin.

Dates with him are fun and romantic, first going to a restaurant, then stroll in the park and getting showered in sakura blossoms, going shopping (him buying whatever you want), more meal related dates, etc. He adores seeing you happy and pampered.

But you truly haunt his nearly sleepless nights and he can’t help but touch himself to the very thought of you. But it’s never truly enough.

Then…

Nanami starts to spiral. You are a human and he is a creature of lust.

His safety and or your safety could be compromised and with that in mind, he begins to back off.

And just as things were going so well too…

Nanami didn’t ghost you, thankfully, but he disclosed that things weren’t working out and that he’s sorry for wasting your time. But he did it on text. He just didn’t want to face you, unfortunately and he regrets it to this day

But on your side, to forget your anger and sorrows, you go to a nightclub to party and slightly drink the pain away.

But unfortunately you also saw Nanami and his friend from before there as well🤪😜.

It was tough but you ignore him just like he ignored your multitude of text messages.

…

Okay maybe you didn’t completely ignore him-.

You can’t help but look at him every so often and from the few glances you got to do, he looked kinda miserable, definitely agitated, and a bit ill looking..

Nanami was very much disinterested in anyone flocking his way and he immediately would send them to Gojo’s way instead, thankfully they took the bite, finding Gojo even more attractive.

But his mood sours even more when he catches wind of you.

You look gorgeous as always, especially in your fit (it’s something he bought you) and he wanted nothing more than to go over to you and sweep you up off your feet (and other things~).

But he doesn’t. All he does is keep his watchful gaze on you, making sure you’re okay and because well… He wants you!

Anyone that comes near you with obvious intentions to woo you his jaw and fists would clench slightly. But again, he doesn’t get up from his seat.

Nanami was… Content to stay in his place. But that was until Gojo thought it’d be a funny idea to make his way to you, pushing pass his little harem.

Although you have your heart set on Nanami, you can’t deny that his friend isn’t gorgeous.

You bet those eyes of his gets him all that he wants with some trouble on the side.

You didn’t move away when his arm came around you, and you let him guide you to a more less crowded area, soon swaying with you as 2 On by Tinashe and SchoolBoy Q booms in the background.

If you hadn’t been pursued by Nanami you definitely would’ve let yourself be caught up with Mr. Troublemaker.

“Heyy~! So, I know you were caught up with Nanamin and all that, but if you’re free…” He puts his lips near your ear, hands sliding towards your hips and gripping them slightly. “I’d love to get to know you better~.”

Your throat bob and just as you’re about to sink into temptation-.

“That’s quite enough, Satoru.”

“Kento…,” you breathed out.

- Gojo didn’t even put up a fight, just took his hands off you with a knowing smile and let Nanami take you away from him.

- Nanami was pissed. Fuming.

- He didn’t appreciate Gojo approaching you like that. The nerve of him!

- His grip is a little tight on you, but you’re okay with it. Until you remember that you’re supposed to be mad at him.

“Now, hold on a second! Who the hell do you think you are?? I was about to get some good dick and you ruined it!” you spat.

Nanami scoffs lightly, letting your hand go. “Oh, please, you can do so much better,” he replies, defeat coating his words.

“Oh god, are you gonna be corny and say that you’re better? ‘Cause clearly you weren’t.”

Despite the hurt, he knew you had a point. He failed as a partner.

“As much as I want to, I know that I failed in that regard. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You hate how much of a kicked puppy he looks. You sigh. “Ken… What even happened? I think I deserve to know the truth.”

Nanami swallows and as much as he wants to tell you the truth, he can’t. Too much is at risk.

“It’s because he’s an incubus, Sweetheart~.”

“Huh!?” “Satoru!?”

Both of you were flabbergasted and Nanami was three seconds away from throttling Gojo.

“Nanami, I’m tired of watching you brood and nearly kill yourself because of your fears,” Gojo explains, his playfulness gone with the wind.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just possibly done??”

Gojo goes back to looking carefree. “Call it a gut feeling~! Now why don’t you two get outta here? Oh! And use protection~!”

Nanami fumbles through his thoughts on what to say, feeling as though he’s going to either short circuit or burst from rage. But in the end he sighs a contained breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, slightly cursing Gojo under his breath, but also feeling a tickle of guilt. He was being selfish with not taking care of himself..

He comes back to his senses when he feels you touch his arm.

“Alright… Is this true or are we really actin like clowns at the circus? If so I’ll need some more alcohol.”

“It’s true, as cliche as that sounds. I didn’t want to tell you in fear that you could maybe get in danger or I could be.”

“… Holy shit. Well I’m glad it’s nothing ridiculous or painful! But hey! I can live one of my child/teenhood fantasies by being in a relationship with a supernatural person!”

Nanami blinks at you for a good second, face perplexed before it eventually softens and he starts laughing lightly with disbelief, taking your hand into his.

When you squeeze his back eagerly he knows he has to thank Gojo for his part in all this.

[iobartach]

okay! this has been a LONG time coming, so brace yourselves for this... we're gonna talk about that injection scene from ats.v so comic purists especially please don't hunt down my ass for what i'm about to put out into the universe 😂

....so ..... let's talk about ... atsv's injection scene ;

what was intended by it? fuck knows, waiting for sony to send answers on a postcard. buuuut, for my take, let me be clear on the interpretations / meanings that i'm not gonna perpetuate ;

it's not rapture. i'm drawing a HARD STOP under that thought. noooo thankkk you.

it's not the source of his spider powers. we're staying true to our Cronenberg-inspired metamorphosis horrific-ness here 😎 even if more... recent reinventions of miguel shown in the comics would tell you he willingly opted to make himself half-spider, i ain't subscribing to it. (miguel's perspective on his transformation probs deserves its own hc post eventually! stay tuned!

so... if not this... what then? well...

i'm gonna posit that the injection(s) are a way for miguel to manage his 'condition'

for that, lemme do a little recap / reminder;

following his accident, miguel has experienced a multitude of changes. one of the most prominent changes is that he's become an obligate carnivore / hypercarnivore if you will. which means, meat is his new bff - he'll crave the calories, he'll eat it cooked or even raw, especially if it placates his tendency to gnaw when starving. and when he does eat, he tears and swallows chunks - not really a chewer any longer.

whiiiich introduces a new issue; anything plant based? loses its appeal to him. it's a slow progression, too. he'd start with reducing portions. taking a bite or two. leaving the rest. until there's next to no greenery left on the plate, when he knows he needs the nutrients they provide.

and ooh, it's actually gets a level worse than that : )

not only does he stop eating vegetables, fruits, *maybe* fungai? idk? but wellll his own mutated body might even stop producing the important stuff like vitamin c, and things of that ilk ! so ... what's a hybrid to do? how's he gonna make up the difference and get the nutrients he needs? ( especially when you consider... whilst he doesn't eat often, due to a combination of altered metabolism and slowed digestion rate, he could eat and consume calories in the magnitude that could make a damn saiyan blush --)

but, even so, it won't make up for the deficiencies 😔 so what's a spooky spider lad to do?

Come up with a solution, duh!

Yesss, baby, we're talking supplementation! operating in a similar manner to a diabetic needing insulin, or someone with B12 deficiency, for the all important food stuffs that miguel has perhaps tried, and tried again to consume, he's gonna turn to science for a lending hand, load up on what's either missing from his diet now, or that which his body simply can't absorb any longer

And, in addition to this, these shots are important in another sense 👀

they help miguel to manage his spider tendencies

since the way i've approached this with my earlier hcs is, well, tl;dr my mig's human / spider dna isn't a 50/50 split, it's gradually veering more towards spider as the years pass

this means that, it's a bit of a perfect storm brewing; lack of nutrients + behaviours & tendencies that he is likely chronicling by the day is ... a recipe for trouble! i can bet that miguel by himself can ... manage / hold himself together ... to a point, but, to paraphrase a friendo; have you ever met a hangry person? there's a limit to everything!

and we've seen miguel breach that limit already, during the miles chase in atsv. if ya had a bingo card for just about the worst everything happening in a single day? that card probably got filled UP during that chase! 😔 perhaps stress also played as factor there was well - the dude's carrying a LOT on his shoulders!

anyyyway! back on topic! let's expand the supplementation too - let's also throw in some sort of hormones? i know this is a whole science in itself, and ain't scientist 🥹 so i'll leave this a bit more broad, and say that they also play a part in stabilising miguel, ground him, so he won't go chasing a kid across the city... .ahem 😔

leading on from this, though, i wanna add some last things here. i know, i'm... meandering here , but lemme say;

take note of the intensity of miguel's eye colouration!

r e d - sorry, but you're shocked, buddy, best of luck surviving 💀

scarlet / bright red - feeling aggro, but holding enough of himself together to not act on his impulses

garnet - the default, feeling spidery, but also feeling human as close to a harmonious state as he can manage for the most part

dark brown - the goal!👀this is potentially a state that achieved after he injects himself. it floods him with a calm like nothing else he's ever felt. it's when he feels the most human again, a memory that's easily forgotten when you've got fangs and shoot webs from the back of your hands!!!

and it's with this last point, with the brown eyes, that i wanna bring this home with the little ritual miguel develops; after takin an injection, he'll make a point of brewing the strongest cup of black coffee that he can manage. a rare treat these days for him... especially given that caffeine does not agree with spiders. 💀

so yeah!!! thanks for reading through this ! 👋

[some-pers0n]

So about that ask game you reblogged abt an hour ago

Opinions on The Spy TF2?

Ah, lemme think.

Favourite thing

I am in love with how in-game his disguise is just a mask with the class he's disguised as. It's so stupid and dumb and funny. In the lore it's probably just him being disguised as the character regularly without any mask, but it's still so funny. I also adore every gag of him ever where he's disguised as an object and has the object on that mask. It's priceless.

Least favourite thing

I do wish we got more information about him. I get his whole appeal is that he's this mysterious guy and all, but I do wish we got to explore his past a little. I think there's a lot of potential for James Bond type stuff there.

Favourite line

"26 years ago, I dropped a 'sex bomb' on your mother." I love it both for the comedy of it and also because UAGHHUAHHH HE'S TELLING SCOUT HE'S HIS FATHERRRR WAILING

brOTP

I think Sniper and Spy are really great friends. They get along quite well, despite their occasional squabbles. I don't think of them in a romantic sense, even if they are quite intimate and close. Good friends. I also really like Spy and Pyro. They're cute buds.

OTP

Hm, it's a toss up between Freedom Fries (Soldier/Spy), Practical Espionage (Spy/Engie), and Spoovy (Spy/Heavy). I also like Spy/Sniper in a romantic sense, but personally I prefer it platonic. Spy is a very shipable character.

nOTP

Well there's the obvious forbidden ship, which is a clear and obvious pick-me answer. Normal people should hate that ship. Uhhh,,other than that? I dunno.

Random headcanon

Utter coffee snob. He's pretentious and has like $50,000 dollars worth of equipment to make his prissy little mocha fraps.

Unpopular opinion

Spy isn't a jerk. Snobby and pretentious? Absolutely. I wouldn't say he's particularly rude though. No more rude and antagonistic than the others during their voice lines. In fact, canon material goes against this. He tries to organize a little bucket list thing before they all die. He spends what he believes to be his last few days alive helping Scout try and get a date with Miss Pauling. He is willing to do a suicide pact with Pauling so that they get out of being tortured to death. He sticks around with Scout after they're all fired to keep him and his mother afloat. Hell, he gives Scout closure when he seems to be on the verge of death. I think people assume French = jackass which means he's constantly insulting people and rude. No, he's not.

Song I associate with them

OUghhHH,, that's a hard one to think. Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra. I associate a lot of 1950s songs with him, and Frank Sinatra is perfectly romantic for a guy like him. I also think that him and Scout's Ma hooking up came around from him developing feelings for somebody he shouldn't have, for their own sake. He loved her dearly. Still does even after all these years. But, he can't commit. He doesn't want to settle down. He wants that honeymoon phase to last forever.

Favourite picture

Something about this picture is just really sweet to me. I think a lot of people forget about this comic and how Spy interacts with the boy, which makes me sad since he's...not that bad with him, ya know?

[spidereggs888]

Miguel bangs Dr Doom and the poor bastard asks for seconds

/j

Miguel & You

ACT 3 | INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

Miguel O’Hara & y/n, any gender or non gender. Very casual writing style. TW Dark humor, dangerous situations, 18+ language. Y/n are sorta attracted to Miguel (why else would you be here?) but he doesn’t know you lol

(Seriously, if you haven't read ACT 1 or ACT 2, NONE of this will make sense)

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

“Okay? I mean you still got your job, yeah?” your friend says.

“It’s different now! I can’t- my job’s not enough- all my savings are GONE! All those data sticks were full of nontaxable credit and now it’s probably being hocked off for rapture! What the shock am I gonna do?!”

“Wait, wait! Hang on, lemme text Bryce! He gonna know something!”

“I REALLY can’t believe that O’Hara! We talked about this! I made my case pretty simple and he agreed to a follow up meeting- and now he’s just gonna CANCEL on me?!”

“Hey it’s not his fault! He doesn’t know what you’re going through.”

You are so mad you almost tell her the truth. But his secret identity could be a bargaining chip! Yeah sure that will be stooping low but he KNOWS you are one lost payment away from house hunting, which is a horrible experience in Nueva York, especially if you’re broke.

After some sounds of computer work on her end, Speshall re-emerges.

“Hold on… okay. Bryce says Mister O’Hara is back in the Alchemax Business Bureau building.”

“Good God, tell Bryce I said thanks!”

“You better hurry, cuz people who lost their shot yesterday are trying to catch him today. I don’t know how word got out that he didn’t choose anyone as a secretary, but yeah, they are scrambling to get a hold of him. You better hurry!”

You pull out your only spare jacket (the clear plastic one that only keeps off the rain), and throw on a new scarf. You are back at square one, where you gotta compete with all the other interviewees, including Suck-up Syd who’s gonna be even more desperate this time, and Beta-Brody, who just might actually appeal to O’Hara now that he’s about to have an uninterrupted audience with the guy!

Your chances are slim, but if you stand to lose everything, why the hell dwell here?!

░▒▓スパイダーマン▓▒░

When you exit the apartment complex, you run through all of the holograms offering a better life, past all the salesmen trying to convert you to the great house of Thor, and slam your palm down on the terminal button to call the apartment valet.

"Welcome back, tenant 27," the AI apartment valet greets, “Do you want-”

“YES! Give it to me!”

Your car roars out of its hiding place as if it knows today isn’t the day to worry you with her many problems. She is bright red with flaking paint, but she is here in your time of need.

“We refueled your vehicle. Do you accept the charges-”

“BILL ME TOMORROW!”

You rush and slide across the hood, executing the perfect slide and land on your feet on the other side. The door unlatches automatically and you climb in (that almost never happens), and you slam your foot down on the gas pedal.

“I’m comin’ for you, O’Hara!”

░▒▓человек-паук▓▒░

After dodging and slipping through traffic, you arrive at the Alchemax Business Bureau parking lot. The automated parking center kiosk accepts your money this time since your mom knows how to clean her gambling money (you have yet to learn this difficult process), and you get to enter the building in a more conventional way. 

The lobby is already in chaos. People are fighting over the coffee machine for some reason, slapping and hitting each other. You turn your back on it and face the old man behind the receptionist desk. He grimaces at you.

“You don’t have anything to do with the crazy shit happening over there, right?” He asks. This was the first time he’s spoken to you in a while.

“Don’t think so. Uh, has O’Hara come through?”

“Heh. What do you think?”

You cringe at the sound of a coffee pot crashing to the floor. The receptionist opens a holoscreen and looks at you through it.

“He’s up in the temp office again.”

He discreetly brings a cup of black coffee up from behind the desk and sets it near you.

“Just pushing forward a favor.”

His eyes focus on the video call that pops up between you, and he continues, “We need custodial support in the lobby. We got some broken glass and hot coffee all over the damn place.”

≋≋≋（スパイダーマン）≋≋≋

You are on the elevator, coffee in hand with a pocket full of sugars. You decide not to drink it, you plan to give it to O’Hara (everyone else must have had this same plan, hence fighting over the pitcher of coffee.) The elevator lets someone else on. The doors open and you see the smoky eyes of Suck-Up Syd.

“Ah, you got past everyone else, I see.”

You reluctantly move over as she strides in. You notice she’s wearing a backless dress before she pulls her faux fur jacket back over her shoulders. She knows you saw, she chuckles and sighs.

“Don’t ya love this day and age?” she asks innocently.

“It could be better,” you say pleasantly.

“I just love how a woman can be herself and flaunt what she’s got…” 

She waits for a word of validation but you say nothing to her. She continues.

“I got this dress from Michael, our last boss. Remember him?”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who gave me a second chance…”

“Yeah after the whole embezzling thing! Tsk, I’m so glad you didn’t get fired, you know that? Like really, you are the nicest person in this whole wide place! It would have been so unfair of him to let you go. But he’s very generous.”

You wanna say something mean to her but you are at a crucial point in your life to have stupid Suck-Up Syd karma in the mix.

The elevator door opens and you see a guy laying face down on the floor. He’s groaning in pain. It’s the nice Indian man from yesterday.

“Oh my, what happened here?” Syd asks.

“Ah just some stuff that needed settling,” says the familiar douchey voice of Brody, who walks up from the corner while rubbing his knuckles.

“Did you beat up that guy?!” You scold.

“Well, he got in my face,” he says with a matter-of-fact tone.

“I somehow doubt that!” You scoff.

 Brody smirks and takes your coffee.

“Dude, that’s mine!” you complain.

He sips it while keeping eye-contact with you. He then immediately scrunches his face.

“Ew, you don’t add anything to your coffee?!”

“That’s very rude and gross, Broly,” Syd says with sarcasm, walking away towards the glass elevator. He hands the coffee back to you and swiftly follows her, and you reluctantly follow.

“I was just playing, Sydney, lighten up! Nice dress, by the way!”

“Thank you.”

“I mean... you flaunted it for Micheal, I bet you could do the same exact routine for O’Hara and get the job instantly! That's your in-an-out plan, right?”

“Hey, if he thinks hiring me will get him there then that’s on him, not me.”

“What are you pushing 38, going on 39 any time now? You can’t use your looks forever, tick-tock tick-tock.”

“Oh wow, says the guy who believes in that Alpha Male BS. You are aware that the same guy who coined that whole thing turned around and disproved it years later, you know that, right?”

“So it’s not true for wolves, but it’s definitely true for Man.”

“You are not even close to being a Beta…” you grumble. 

He looks back at you with a fake smile. Syd laughs.

“Oh well check this out-”

He slaps the coffee down out of your hands and it gushes all over your pants and shoes. You jump back and kick your legs.

“Dude! That BURNS! What the FUCK?!”

“You got it on my dress, you fucking animal!” Syd complains, stepping back away from the dark puddle.

“Oh you were gonna take it off to show what’s left of your body anyway! Get with the now and lighten up!”

“You are SUCH an asshole!” You yell. You start kicking him in the legs. Syd joins in, thrashing him with her stiletto. The both of you back him into the corner as he tries to guard his face. The glass doors open and the three of you stop your squabbling as y’all realize there has been an audience for the last few seconds.  

The pair of security guards from yesterday are standing near the elevator, both looking somewhat amused about the elevator fight, and two men are sitting on either side of the tiny desk, one of them being O’Hara and the other is your ex boss.

“Oh… uh, hi!” Syd stammers, taken aback by the present company. Brody pushes her aside and strides across the room with his hand extended.

“Hey, Mister O’Hara! The name’s Brody Tice! Nice to meet-”

“The hell are you guys doing here?” O’Hara asks.

“Hey, yeah, I didn’t get to meet you yesterday-  had some stuff come up, but I heard you were here today, so I thought-”

“Then SIT,” O’Hara demanded.

“Actually, I do better standing!” 

“Sit the hell down, Brody,” Micheal snaps, “Now’s not the time!”

[Brody mumbles something about being fine where he is.]

“Is everything okay, Micheal?” Syd asks, defaulting to an innocent tone.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Micheal says with glossed, lazy eyes. He always had this look whenever he was forced to care, “Someone formerly in our department just complained about some old history and we are trying to smooth it out.”

"Oh, this is beyond smoothing out," O'Hara said with an unsafe tone while smiling, "Yeah, this little game you have going on comes to an end today."

"What game?!" Micheal scoffs, leaning back in his chair.

“I’ve had my AI assistant cross-reference your employment history and your payment history and I did not like what she told me," O'Hara says, putting his giant paws together, "You’ve been withholding payment from your employees by not immediately updating their salary in the system after they were given a raise. And you’d neglect doing anything until they actually confront you about it, and even then, you never paid them the missing difference. And you did this, let's say, roughly eighty times in the past four years?”

Your blood boils. This man has been a parasite this whole time while you scraped by. Micheal looks back and forth at Syd and Brody, unable to keep eye contact with O'Hara.

"Wha- WHICH of you- Syd! I thought I could TRUST you!" Micheal stammers.

"What? Micheal! No! I didn't say anything about you!"

Micheal's gaze darts to Brody, but then he swivels his head to you instead.

"Was it you?!"

"Wow, you're really just gonna look for someone to blame, huh?" Brody scoffs.

"Whoever did this doesn't know who they're messing with!" Micheal says, his face red as he shakes, "I have too much as stake to be taken down by some rat!"

“It was ME!” you yell, not willing to take anything else laying down anymore, “I confirmed what happened!”

Micheal looks genuinely surprised at you yelling. Syd just blinks awkwardly and Brody grins. O’Hara is still sitting with his elbows resting on his desk, watching from behind clasped fingers.

“What on earth did you-”

“The ultimatum you gave me! You pulled me aside into the maintenance closet and made me choose between getting fired or demoted, REMEMBER?!”

“We took you into the maintenance closet because the situation was private-”

“You just didn’t want anyone with a brain noticing you were doing something illegal!”

“He was on vacation!” Syd said defensively, “You should have just waited-”

“Oh that’s SUCH bullshit! He wanted to see how long he could go without actually paying me what I was owed!” 

“It was just a fluke in the system-”

“It was no fluke, it was CALCULATED!” You snap, stepping towards her with your finger in her face, “And you should know, Syd! You fucking stood there watching like the stupid little henchman you are! You KNEW Micheal was doing something illegal and you did NOTHING to report it! And we know why! Because you KNEW if I went down, you would instantly get my position as vice head PR accountant! You were a snake from the start and always HAVE been!”

“Oh shush! You were sniveling and crying like a BABY, begging to keep the job! I may be what I am but at least I have some dignity-”

“Sydney! Let’s not push it!” Micheal warned.

“That’s fucking laughable coming from you, y’know that?” Brody says to Syd, “You are the LAST person with any dignity around here! You dropped your panties for Ashton when I told you he was head of our department! You didn’t even try to research him or anything! You just did it because you’re a whore.”

“And you!” you yell, pointing at Brody.

“Ah, let’s hear it!” He retorts.

“You are the biggest lying asshole in this whole fucking industry! How the fuck has no one laid you out yet?! All that alpha dog bullshit has gone so far up your ass, I don’t know where your sexist bullshit ends and where your goddamn shit-eating grin begins! You gotta tear people down because you aren’t strong enough to hack it with the big dogs, are ya?! ARE YA, BRODY?! Oh, look at me! I’m Brody Tice! I’m too mean and stupid to make meaningful relationships work, so I bully others to assert a false sense of dominance! And if that don’t work, I resort to telling people I was diddled in the doo doo hole by my best friend Ashton because that’s the kind of LOSER I am!”

Brody’s pride is on the line, and he was not taking too kindly to you airing out his dirty laundry in front of O’Hara. He steps up to you, his fake smile now grinding into a dangerous sneer.

“Oh, NOBODY has laid me out yet because they CAN’T!”

“You are so full of shit!”

“Go ahead and make your move, then!”

“Everyone just stop!” Syd pleads anxiously.

“You can't always get away with everything you’ve DONE!” You say coldly. Blood is rushing in your ears and you can feel your neck getting hot. Brody jabs you in the shoulder with his knuckles.

“Make your move, bitch-” 

Having seen enough, O’Hara stands up and swiftly grabs Brody by the front of his shirt. He leads the smaller man around on his toes as they come face to face. Brody’s eyes bulge.

“Wow, man! Your hands are massive-”

 O’Hara picks the whole man up and one-arm slams Brody through the tiny desk. Just *bam* throws him down TLC style. Travel-sized bottles fly everywhere.

Brody stares up at the ceiling, making a long minuscule whining sound. The desk is finished and everyone is frozen in place. 

“Quitar este loser,” he commanded, pointing down at Brody and flicking his finger at the door. The two guards grabbed Brody and lifted him out of the rubble. 

“As for you two,” he said, turning to Syd and Michael, “clean out your desks!”

“W-why?!” Syd whined

“You can't do this!” Michael begged, his grey eyes bulging, "I have been with this department for thirty years! I was here when your father ran this place!"

O'Hara clenches his jaw and fists. His eyes flash dangerously.

"--Though you do a spectacular job as CEO, WAY better than... It-It really was an honest fluke, I get very overwhelmed with all my responsibilities- please! You can’t fire me!”

He stares down Micheal, considering him a little longer. He drops his scowl and lets his hands free.

“Relax, I’m not firing you or Miss Sarcoth here,” O’Hara says with a falsely kind tone, “I mean, you really should be fired, but a guy your age doesn’t stand a chance in the private sector, so I’m moving you both to the custodial department! They’ll love you there!”

“Oh... well alright,“ Michael mutters, eyes bugged out at the giant financial nuke that missed him by inches.

“Wait, why am I being dragged down too?!” Syd whined, “there’s no proof I was even THERE!”

“There's lots of surveillance of your complacency and possible cooperation, Miss Sarcoth. Don’t even bother trying to argue your way out of this one. Now both of you, off to your new jobs! C’mon! You only get one chance!”

O'Hara gives them both a clenched smile. Syd and Micheal exchange confused stares.

“Go on before I get pissed off,” he said in a colder tone.

They scramble to gather their coats and rush out of the room. Those two jackasses who screwed with your livelihood just to make themselves laugh are now fucking off to whatever hell hole O’Hara has decided to stuff them into.

O’Hara sighs and paces away. He grumbles about idiots fucking around with their goddamn money. You clear your throat. He straightens his anti glare lenses then looks at you.

“Have a seat, since you’re here.”

You sit down where Michael was seated before. You stare this guy down because this is it! You are ready for hellfire. You are ready for searing words and possible loss of a limb or head in the conversation to come. You squint at those red eyes behind the comically large lenses. How has nobody accused him of being a vampire? Either way, you are ready to gamble it all, to hell with being cautious!

You are gonna take this vampire down.

“You are wondering why I canceled our meeting, yeah?” He asks with raised brows.

You are relieved he brought it up first.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I decided I don’t need a secretary,” he said, “turns out it’s too damn stressful and stupid. I’ve been doing just fine with my AI assistant.”

“What about all the people who wanted to work for you?”

“They have their own jobs already, it’s not like they have nothing to go back to.”

“Well I don’t,” you say, gripping the edge of your chair. He makes a curious face.

“You have a job, what do you mean-“

“I’ve been cheated, blackmailed, rejected, declined, and robbed, all because of idiots like Michael and Syd… and that idiot Brody! I’m not about to let a dismissive playboy who fires people left and right, AND moonlights as Spider-Man kick me down without a fight-“

O’Hara comes back over and sits down in his chair quickly, making you flinch, but he’s smiling.

“So you WERE awake when I saved you!”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. You are now shaking but not breaking your stare from his amused expression.

“Now you know who I am and what I do… at least only the tip of that gargantuan iceberg… so what do you want? Money? You gonna blackmail me?”

“What fucking choice do I have?” You say heatedly, “I lost everything down there in that hell hole! My data sticks, my phone, all of that was my LIFE in order, and now I either go further into debt or I get a better job that will take care of me for the rest of my life!”

O’Hara leans back into his chair, his brow furrowed as he rubs his chin.

“Don’t think for a second I’m not grateful for you saving my life! I don’t know how you knew I needed saving but you did!”

“My AI assistant Lyla informed me your location was moving down to a notorious criminal breeding ground. I thought you were one of those Black Market Demons trying to infiltrate Alchemax for drugs.”

“What?”

“I mean the descriptors fit. I guessed you were financially unstable and turning to gambling because you had a Rapture habit. But… you didn’t seem physically unwell like a Rapture user. The only other possibility was that you were being kidnapped. Since I already met you and saw it about to happen, I just couldn’t ignore it.”

You look to the floor, feeling bad about readying yourself to fight this guy.

“I knew you needed help. I'm sorry about your data sticks and all your money. I didn’t know- you do have a bank account, right? I mean, you have a job-”

“My job salary goes there, yeah, but that goes straight into automated payments since I’m on the Alchemax home-employment plan… I have the data sticks because my bank won’t accept anything considered gambling money. And I don’t have enough earnings for an offshore account… so I kept it all on the data sticks…”

He is hanging on every word now. You look up at those sad bespectacled eyes.

“Also… I just wanted some personal spending money for myself. I just wanna wear nice stuff and eat something else besides mineral bars…”

He politely watches you try not to feel sorry for yourself. You are both quiet for a little spell. You can hear the wind outside, and an automated cleaning system starts spraying the shit out of the glass elevator. It sounds like a car wash.  All that coffee on the floor is being washed away.

He sighs and looks out the windows.

“Well, I can’t say I wasn’t impressed at the decade and a half you put into PR work for Alchemax,” he finally says. You wipe away a single tear and look up at him as he pulls up your files on his neat watch. He picks out your best work with his calloused but beautiful hands, “You started running hot meals for the Alchemax elderly program at fifteen years old… went into mail room tech for a while there, occasionally doing lobby work and handling public events… not bad at all.”

"Thanks," you say modestly.

“Most of all, I really admire that you came here. I don’t know how you knew I’d be here, but you must have some great resources to pull that off. I'm impressed.” 

You smile at him weakly. He smiles back.

“What do you think about taking Micheal's old job?” 

“Wha- REALLY?!”

“Ah I’m sure you’ll do fine! Besides, I didn’t know who I was gonna pick as head of PR account and finances, anyway! So, what do you say?”

You stand up and so does he. You extend your hand and he takes it.

“Thank you for this opportunity, sir! I won’t let you down!”

“You actually don’t have a choice.”

You smile but then feel yesterday’s emotions catch up with you. The darkness with the dead bodies and freaky black market demons. Running until your legs were on fire and your lungs hurt. Being surrounded by those demons in the darkness. You dive in for a hug.

“Thank you for saving my life…” you murmur into his shirt.

“C’mon, I’m Spider-Man, it’s what I do.”

You hold your head against those mighty pecs of his. His dress shirt is so silky and soft and smells like the kind of detergent that goes hard like crack. You go ahead and wrap the other arm around him as you behold the heartbeat of a hero, something so rare in any day and age. You will never forget this sensation as he carefully pats your back.

“Ah, okay, just take it all in… I’m only allowing this once… hey, also promise me you'll keep my secret, okay?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I'm not kidding. If you go telling people I'm Spider-Man, I'll make you clean toilets. SPECIFICALLY toilets. And only toilets."

You start to giggle. He does too.

"Just toilets, all day and all night! I'm serious. I know we are laughing but I'm dead serious. No estoy bromeando! Comprendes?"

"Si comprendes," you manage to muffle out.

"Good, good... Okay get off me. Please.”

You smile and let him go. He gives you an awkward smile and rubs the side of his massive neck. 

"So... seeing as I'm removing Micheal and pretty much any and all staff members who conspired with him, you’ll need to hire your own assisting staff. You have anyone in mind?”

≋≋≋（蜘蛛侠）≋≋≋

“I’m going to lunch!” You call out as you leave your glass paneled office. 

“You want me to go ahead and send out this mass email, dear?” Your mother says from behind her grand desk.

“You let Speshall look at it, right?”

“It’s wordy but I’m sure it’s fine,” Speshall says from her office area. She returns to her phone, “Oh they eloped?! To where?!”

Your new staff has it's own habits but they are much better than the unjust monsters running things before. You walk onto the elevator (the only one since the other two are STILL broken), and the nice Indian man from weeks ago joins you.

"How's life, Arjuna?" You ask.

"Ah, in-laws are staying over for a month."

"Oh? Is that bad?"

"Not really. Let's say I just might jump out a window," he says, slyly.

"Well I know a few custodians perfect for the job!" you blurt out. The both of you crack up laughing. You fortunately don't have to ever see Micheal, Syd, and Brody on a daily basis since O'Hara sent them off to clean in the Alchemax Museum of Tech, but that hasn't stopped you or your friends from making them the butt of all your jokes.

You walk out into the lobby of the Alchemax Business Bureau, where you see your red Maglev Nova outside waiting in the rain. 

“All fueled up, boss!” Says the old receptionist behind the counter. He’s drinking his coffee in peace.

“Thanks, Stan!” You say.

You walk outside to your car. The paint job was redone and all her internal issues gone as she hums cleanly, awaiting your arrival. You open the door to get in.

"HEY!"

You look over the Nova. You see O'Hara across the street.

“Miguel! Hey!” 

“Hey! We doin’ this?”

“Yeah! I got some coupons for double thick enchiladas! Two for the price of one!”

“Ay, you and those coupons! I told you, I’m buying! Woah-“

He steps back as a truck flies past him. It drives right through a puddle, drenching the man. He stands there all stunned; his jacket was folded on his arm and his dress shirt soaked.

He gapes at you and you realize you are staring at the wet shirt clinging to his chiseled body. 

“We- we can stop by the dry cleaners on the way," you stammer as you politely look away.

๋࣭ ⭑🕸 fin 🕸๋࣭ ⭑

Thank you for reading.

[confusedgoldenflower]

This. This is why if you’re not already there,

Stay. Away.

I’m honestly amazed they’re not all downvoted to hell. I’ve seen worse for much less. And idk if there’s any harrassment, I am not in the space to deal with the shit rn. Cue the flood of “pRoShIpPiNg Is AcHuAlLy…” and “cEnSoRsHiP-” 🙄

If anyone does see any harrasment there (I don’t encourage looking), please let me know. I’d like to gather solid examples <3 (Can tons of down votes count? It certainly has a psychological effect.)

‘Nother appeal. Any other examples of how minors are treated in this “movement?” Very appreciative of your truth or screencaps. Of course no pressure. You heal as you need to.

“Anecdotes are not data,” *slow white man blink.* The fuck? It very much IS! You’re hyper intellegent asses don’t understand history and primary sources?—The data of SEX OFFENSES HAS TO COME FROM ANECTDOTES.

https://www.reddit.com/r/AO3/s/FQ2VAfHuuH [Maybe just… don’t sexualize minors?)

https://www.reddit.com/r/AO3/s/HanM4Ij79F [Is everyone here pork addicts?] lemme tell ya, it sure feels like it. Especially when they jump on people for not liking or wanting smut.

https://www.reddit.com/r/AO3/s/JaAq97qqhz [What’s with proshippers and double standards?]

I also notice that many proshippers dont minds bullying children or people who are confussed/was antis in past. I feel like you can say "I was anti" and many proshippers gonna act as If you was bullying them in the past (even If you say you never do things like that). "We are the one who really care about children, but we also gonna hate you and bully If you are child and you tell us you was anti but run away from some toxic antis space"

OP’s account is now deleted. Y’all probably know the conclusion I’m drawing.

https://www.reddit.com/r/AO3/s/DdshVDigdG Wrow it’s almost like language changes (if “anti” ever actually meant what they all claim)

https://www.reddit.com/r/AO3/s/aNn9oykSDh [I really don’t like how some proshippers behave] great so how about y’all straighten yourselves out before interacting with anyone else please. Y’all do not have a good track record. Not a “cohesive movement” my ass, you all have the same regurgitations whenever you so much as “feel threatened.” (Gods, movement, you’ve had centuries. Actual centuries of that shit. It’s time for victims to have justice now damnit.) Then there’s “well they’re not real proshippers” ergo “I’m the good one” which is also something they complain about others doing.

Been trying to refind this one for a while. https://www.reddit.com/r/AO3/s/ZEcKruiEIG [what’s up with the proshipping support on here?]. Really ridiculous that the ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN subreddit is really just an echochamber. Fucking go off to r/proship. Go away. Some of us actually want decency. Yes, it pisses me off. Fuck I saw the first comment!

**Goes without saying, no find these ppl! Again, I don’t support harassment etc. Let’s just have fun and find comfort and spread safety by tearing their illogical logic apart.

No <3. Just no. The definitions are leaving your control and we’re defining you by your actions. OP is right. Sorry, OP. Really hope they weren’t pulled in by “kindness” and literal buzzwords.“Antis are just so dumb. But you’re smart, you’ll pay attention in class. I’ve been to college, listen to me”🤮. Most of it is just appeals to emotions, y’all see this too right??? (Can’t open OPs accnt, worried.)

https://www.reddit.com/r/AO3/s/Eti8zyO4bP [proship as a movement should be allowed criticism]. A call from inside the house! 🚨🚨 Aaand another OP deleted. I am having a feeling they’re not showing downvote numbers to not-your posts. Weird.

“cHilDrEn ArEnT mY rEsPoNsIbIlItY, wHeRe ArE tHeIr PaReNts🥴.” Now I’ve said it before but that’s what communities are; responsibility to everyone. And I guess these people are actually not smart enough to understand it’s no longer the fifties! Even if there’s multiple adults or even elder siblings, there’s simply no way to monitor a child’s online activity especially with the rabbit holes and pipelines. Why, it’s almost like children are SOCIETY’S RESPONSIBILITY.

Just admit you’re refusing responsibility for exposing children to this shit because you’re weirdly against proper tagging and post it accessibly. Put it behind some sort of gate or community-join-thing! And stop drenching fandom in it!

Y’all ever click something out of morbid curiosity or accident and get some sort of note like “I’m a mother, but I’m not YOUR mother. If you can’t handle, don’t read.” That literally doesn’t do shit especially if talking about children, they’re learning self control as is, how to protect themselves mentally, and curiosity will absolutely win out. Especially if they have *that one friend* that dares or taunts them to read it. Boom, trauma. Yes, you CAN be traumatized by written stories/fiction (and even hearing about a traumatizing event). Also, being an adult does NOT mean you’re some perfect, “rational” human; that’s so weirdly essentialist and ableist.

Also… if I learned my mother, or any parent or relative, wrote noncon content for fun🚩🚩🚩. Absolutely not. Nope. Disinvited from family gatherings or anywhere near my loved ones unless they get therapy. Actual therapy.

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

Chapter 8

GUESS WHO'S BACK WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER That's right, after being out of commission for a couple months, chapter 8 is FINALLY finished.

AND I HAVE SOME GOOD NEWS FOR THE PEOPLE WHO'VE BEEN ASKING FOR IT:

Where the Stars Don't Shine is finally posted on ao3! The new chapter is here!

I am so so so sorry about the wait, so I made it extra long just for you guys! As always, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @bibooby, @laegume and @andyssilly, welcome back to the slumber party, I saved yall some front row seats! (If anyone else wants to be tagged just lemme know and I'll put ya in the next one!) Anyways, hope yall enjoy this, and without further ado-

On with the show!

Word Count: 4,962

-------

All your excitement during your encounter with Sun vanishes when it becomes clear just what sort of day it’s going to be.

You had a bit of a mixed bag in attendance today. All your regulars, plus a couple new faces here and there. It started out okay, really.

And then one new kid in particular showed his hand and cemented his legacy as one of the most spoiled children you have ever had the dishonor of meeting.

You try not to dwell on it and just move on, but this kid…this kid is awful . Pushing other kids around, turning his nose up at snacks and eating off other kids’ plates, ripping the heads off toys…

(You really have to remember to bring your sewing kit next time.)

You know it’s not the kid’s fault for his behavior, more of the people who raised him, and you try not to hold it against him, you really do. By the looks of it, Sun is trying, too, but both of your patience is drawing thin.

You draw the line when he tears out a page of your books that one of the other boys was reading.

You remind yourself repeatedly that you are not allowed to punch a child. 

You do put him in time-out, though. And you can guess by this kid’s behavior that their parents are going to raise hell about it.

You discover some hours later that your assumption is completely correct when said parent comes in later to pick up their child and you confront them about the brat’s behavior, to which their response is an offended gasp and a rant about how awful your work ethic is and you’re not providing enough care this is why people like you are in jobs like this you’re lucky you’re even employed that makes the brick walls behind security desk that you have the strong urge to slam your head into all the more appealing. You stand there with a polite customer service smile and take it like the valued employee you are while trying to remember what temperature human flesh burns at before chastising yourself, until you’re thrown back into reality and catch the tail end of what she says. 

“-and are you even listening to me right now? Ugh, you’re even denser than the robot, at least it can do its job right. You’re supposed to be the competent worker and you’re being beaten by a walking junkyard pile-”

Yeah, nope, not this again.

You bristle at her words, gritting your teeth slightly and forcing your smile to maintain itself. If it looks slightly more manic than intended, that can’t be helped, but you had always been good at playing the part of someone weaker than you. “I’m so sorry you feel that way, ma’am. I’m sure you can leave a review regarding our services on our website if you’d like. However, Fazbear does not tolerate abuse and slander of any of its staff. Thanks for stopping by and have a Faz-er- iffic day!”

You slam the door in her face just as she opens her mouth (likely to respond with another offensive remark) and dust your hands off in satisfaction. It’s not the first time someone’s come to complain about you and your coworkers. In truth, the company probably couldn’t care less how the clients treated their workers and their ‘property’ as long as they got paid. Slander against you, you could understand; you signed a contract and sold your soul away. One of the agreements was to deal with annoying clients. But the other two? They had been built for this, any complaint against them was the fault of the company itself, and besides, you couldn’t see them as anything other than people since the moment you’d spoken to them. After all, a company probably wouldn’t leave a prerecorded message expressing immediate hostility towards its employees on their first day of work, now would it?

They had to have some level of sentience to make that decision.

You mark off the last child with a pleased grin. At least with the way she’d reacted you could guarantee that neither the harpy woman nor her little satan spawn son ever set foot in the Daycare ever again.

You do unfortunately still have to clean up the carnage left behind, though. You grab a broom and a dustpan, ready to sweep up the crumbled play-doh and ripped stuffing from earlier, back straightening with a sharp inhale when the lights cut off. Not terribly uncommon, but it still left you uneasy. Moon didn’t get to do his little song and dance during naptime because you were preoccupied punishing a rulebreaker, and you’re pretty sure he’s fixing to dish out his skewed idea of justice one way or another.

Lo and behold, the tell-tale click of a wire descending directly behind you gives away his intentions. 

“ Aww , thank you for defending our honor so nobly , little knight,” he croons mockingly. You don’t even have to turn in his direction to know he’s fanning his faceplate and fake swooning in a ‘my fair maiden’ pose. You say nothing, just sweeping stiffly under his suspended shadow and inspecting the floor. You’d have to bring out the vacuum for the carpet, plus a mop.

You miss his frown at your evident disinterest. 

“So brave, to come to our aid when we were utterly defenseless ,” he continues, picking a small bit of clay off your shoulder and flicking it aside. “But you know, you seemed to have forgotten what I told you earlier…”

He pauses, seemingly waiting for some response of probing to continue. If he is, he’ll be sorely disappointed. Though you’re usually the one after them for conversation, you’re in no mood for it after the day-no, the week, the whole damn month , really- you’ve had. You just want to go home, take a shower, and sleep for an eternity. 

His frown grows further in distaste, and he decides to grab your attention by gripping your shoulders tightly and lifting you a few inches off the ground. Your previously unfocused gaze now snaps to him, alert and on guard.

Wuh-oh.

That’s more like it.

“We do not need your help ,” he sneers, shaking you by the front of your shirt. You blink and gulp nervously, unsure as to where this is coming from. You feel the worst of your nausea as he starts to raise you towards the ceiling with you hanging onto his wrists tightly.

“Moon…” you speak warningly, a shot of nervousness streaking through you as the ground grows further away. His only response is a sadistic chuckle, and the delicately crafted facade over your sickness accumulating from over the past few weeks worsens exponentially. Your stomach lurches and you hazard a quick glance down. You’re hanging a good thirty feet above the ballpit and still steadily climbing, and judging by the glint in your captor’s eyes, you’re not going to like where this is headed.

It’s safe to panic now.

“Moon, stop it, that’s enough,” you tell him, voice wavering. After no response, you try again. “Moon, that’s enough, put me down.” Silence. “That’s enough , drop it!”

He stops for a second, grin falling a little before returning full force. “Well, if you insist ,” he laughs darkly. 

Your eyes widen and for a moment, nothing happens. Then he yanks your hands off him and lets go, watching you plummet to the ground with sinister glee.

Then, you’re falling.

You think you scream, you can’t tell. You crash into the ballpit right after, but it doesn’t cushion your fall. You hiss immediately on impact, clenching your fists and curling in on yourself. The plastic balls dig into your spine, sending waves of pain throughout your body. Your eyes are squeezed shut and you don’t dare open them lest you see that face looming over you. You do a quick check-over, wiggling your toes and bending your joints weakly. Somehow, nothing is broken, but you can’t tell over the searing pain in your side. You thought it was bad before, but that was nothing compared to now. The dull ache is burning, setting your nerves on fire with as much as a twitch. Your back is in a similar shape, as are your legs. 

You don’t know how long you stay like that before Moon’s shadow looms over you from the side of the pit. He makes some stab at you that you don’t really process over the ringing in your ears. Existing hasn’t taken such a toll on you before. His voice still carries into the white noise. You manage to get your mouth moving again and whisper, voice crackling, “Knock it off, Moon.”

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t let up on his teasing, and you vaguely register his response. “Oh, poor little worker can’t take a tumble. Too weak to pick yourself back up again? Not that I see much of a difference. You’ve always got your head down, ballpit or that desk you laze at. Best to let the ‘bucket of bolts’ do the work, hm ?”

You say nothing, not finding the idea of lifting your head and entertaining his little act worth it in your state. You remain limp in the ballpit, knees hugged to your chest in fetal position.

You hear him step closer to you, and jerk slightly when blue digits dig into your shoulders to pull you up. A cry of pain erupts from you at the fingers embedding themselves in your shoulder blades. They retract quickly as if burned by a pot sitting too long on the stove, as if this was the first time they’ve ever felt such heat before. Your severe pain and slightly depressive state dissipates momentarily and is instead replaced with white-hot anger that threatens to bubble over.

You slap his hand away and shout, “It’s not funny, Moon, knock it off! ”

He freezes, hands twitching in the air. His optics flicker, narrowing as he reaches back out to capture you once out. You smack his wrist again and ignore the added pain of striking metal. 

You stagger out of the ballpit, standing on shaky legs. You don’t give him a chance to speak before you start up again. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, man? You dropped me from 50 feet up, I could’ve died ! What did I even do to you?”

His faceplate turns in a silent half-rotation before he shrugs.

Oh no he did not . 

You explode, gesturing wildly as his simple movement spurs you on. “So what, you just don’t like me and decided to fucking throw me off the balcony like some- some doll for you to mess around with?! Pfft, yeah sure, that makes sense! Let’s just drop someone from 40 feet ‘because we don’t like them’! Wow, Moon, I can see how you guys got your position with that logic !”

“Oh wait! ” you spin around sharply, a manic grin on your face that seems to twist every meek and modest feature on your face as you continue on. “That’s why I’m here! Because for all your hard work, Management still decided to shove me into this hellhole! And it doesn’t mean much, it’s Management, they don’t mean anything, but hey , guess what? I never wanted to be here, but surprise-surprise, no one wants to hire a nobody who didn’t push through their degree except a shady company with a world record in OSHA violations and an even bigger death toll! So here I am, getting paid 30 dollars an hour to deal with your ungrateful asses for five hours a day, not to mention the ridiculous amount of unpaid overtime of three to five EXTRA hours I dedicate to this sorry place, all without a single day off in the past six months that I have worked here, each of which have been filled with your non-stop harassment and shitty attitude, which for some bizarre reason I haven’t reported yet! So why, pray tell, have you been dead set on punishing me for a crime I have yet to commit? What did I even do to you?” 

It’s a trap. Moon knows it’s a trap, but he refuses to let you get away with such slander on his turf. He rolls his eyes and huffs, “ Oh, please , you aren’t nearly as victimized as you make yourself out to be. You slack off during playtime while Sun handles everything, you’re constantly snoozing away at your desk unless you oh-so graciously decide to grace us with a moment of your time, and sometimes you don’t even show up at all. I think we have much more of a right to type up a report than you ever will.”

Alright, that’s it- “Oh, really ? Alright, buster, don’t give me that shit, I know damn well what I’m worth. For the record, I do play with the kids - which, if I may remind you, is not in my job description- until sweet lil Sunny starts giving me a death stare for daring to intrude on his precious playtime. And I do pitch in around here, just as much if not MORE than you do! Guess what, cheesehead? I clean the ballpit. I order the food, I buy the supplies, bring the books, put the kids toys back together, organize a monthly schedule AND deal with your sorry asses,  so don’t be telling me how to do my job, got it ? And don’t start up about my breaks, cuz, huh , I wasn’t aware that a two minute break in the place of an hour’s worth of free time was against my contract! I take time off when I know I’m not needed so that I don’t keel over and leave you to deal with over 40 kids! And even with that, I’ve still never taken an actual sick day off the entire time I’ve worked here because I know this is how you’ll react! When was the last time I didn’t show up to work, huh?”

Moon is swift with his reply, almost anticipating the question. “Last month, you took nearly two weeks off without telling your supervisors,” he states triumphantly, as if this had somehow won him the argument.

Oh, this absolute idiot . 

His victorious grin falls slightly at your disbelieving laughter. “Two weeks?! I’ve been working here for six months and you’re hung up on two weeks ?! I’ll have you know that I did tell my supervisors-which you are not , by the way- that I would be out on unpaid sick leave. And I know they didn’t tell you about it because I knew exactly what would happen, and it did! I thought you could respect it and let it go , but apparently not, cuz  you can’t handle not sticking your obnoxiously pointed nose up someone’s business! And now I’m the nosy one!” Your voice grows louder, and you throw your arms out with a wide, dangerous gleam in your eyes. 

“You wanna know where I was? Why I was gone? Well guess what, Craterhead, I was in the hospital making sure my brother didn’t drop dead ! I had to make sure he didn’t flat line halfway through a surgery !”

Oh.

Oh no.

Moon’s eyes widen, regret flickering across his face for a second. He takes a small step back, retreating as you advance. A jab to the chest pulls him back to the present, and his optics narrow.

“But you don’t care about any of that, do you? All you care about is your stupid reputation and oh no, Sunny and Moony can’t have a human ruining everything, because that’s all this meatbag knows how to do! Oh no, poor Sunny and Moony!”

You watch his expression drop like a thermometer exposed to subzero temperatures, red optics pinpricks in a sea of black that threaten to overtake them, contracted pupils tensed like a rubber band about to snap. A spark of something, perhaps vindication, ignites within you, overshadowing the voice in the back of your mind that quietly warns you of what to come, to back down before it’s too late.

A pity your brother isn’t here to hold you back. 

Your voice drops dangerously low for a moment, a deathly whisper that somehow seeps fear into Moon’s systems more than your uncontrolled rage.“I bet you tried to break me, didn’t you, wanted to see me all battered and bruised with my tail tucked between my legs as I ran out of this godforsaken place. Oh, don’t act so surprised, we both knew you never liked me. You never liked me or the idea of someone coming along to jeopardize your position, your life’s purpose, the only thing you have ever been good for, and so you pushed, even when I went along with all your orders, all your demands and your stupid checkpoints and your stupid, stupid rules, pushed and pushed and pushed until I couldn’t take it anymore, and here we are. Well, no more ! You knew there was a breaking point, you both did. Well, here it is, the final straw! Your hard work finally paid off, you’ve made me even more miserable than before, and for what? Is this what you wanted, Moon, Sun? Are you finally satisfied? ”

Moon is still in front of you, hands drawn to his chest, pupils watching fat drops roll down your cheeks and leave stained rivers on your skin as you smile that angry, heartbreaking, defeated smile that cuts through their wires like glass shards, words stabbing through his central processors and sending a jolt through them both. He wants to respond, wants to say something clever and leave you sputtering and defeated, but nothing comes to mind. He always has a retort, a comeback, a witty remark or a snarky comment to make you bend to their will, and yet this time he’s the one left grasping for straws. He’s speechless, voicebox pushing out low static as he struggles to formulate a reply. You don’t give him the time to, resuming with a steady confidence they’ve never seen in you before. This is a side of you that is unfamiliar to them. They don’t quite know what to make of it, and so they stay unwillingly silent as you answer your own question with an air of finality. 

“No, you’re not. And I’ll tell you why. This perfection that you’ve tried so hard to pin down? Hate to break it to you, buddy, but perfect is something even machines can’t accomplish, no matter how advanced or well-built they think they are. It never will be. You and Sun both think you’re oh-so-great and so far above lil ol’ me and my stupid human brain, but I think you forget that you’re just as bad as I am. I’ve seen the daycare reviews, boys, and trust me, they are not pretty. Our sweet little ball of Sunshine scared kids so bad with his pushiness that a good deal of them just didn’t come back, and you? Oh, you scared the shit out of kids, didn’t you? You left them shivering in their sleeping bags in fear of the very thing that swore to protect them. 

“So tell me”- you tilt your head, smile growing sickeningly sweet as your eyes squint upwards, hands poised together as you punctuate every syllable that leaves your lips - “What exactly do you think gives you any authority over me? How do you think you can protect anyone from me when you can’t even protect them from yourself?”

You let the words hang in the air for a moment, the manic grin not leaving your face as you turn around to sweep over the daycare after the prolonged eye contact with burning red optics begins to sting your eyes. 

 “But hey!” you call out behind you with a laugh like shattered glass left on cold tile. “Don’t take my word for it. I’m just the dumb worker you had to boot cuz you didn’t want someone to steal the spotlight.”

You whip back around to give a final comment before catching a glimpse of Moon. His pupils are near non-existent, eyes dark and empty. His static grin is too wide, fingers too sharp, curling and uncurling. You freeze, words cutting to a halt, and you swear his grin grows wider.

“ R̶̻̘̃͂̈́͋́ ̶̢̛͇̠͔̤̥͉̜̖̫̰̬̬̝̓͛̾̅̓̑̌́͆̅̇̿̎͂̈́͘̕͠Ǘ̸̡̻͖̅̄̄̚ ̵͖̱͕̫̋̈́̀́͊̇̐̀̒̒̋͑̅̀͗̊́́̚̕͝N̵̘̰͓̹̖̘̦̪͂̓̎̅̊̀͘̕͜ ̶̡͕̙͖̟͍̼͙̠̺̹̦̘̙̘̠̏̾̿̏̂͜ͅ," he growls. 

It sends a chill up your spine, dousing your anger in fear. You don’t waste time waiting for him to start chasing. You’re already booking it across the Daycare and to the exit. 

You’re maybe 10 paces in when you hear him behind you, wire clicking and shooting him to the ceiling. You know it’s a losing battle, he could easily take you if he wanted to. He doesn’t though, not yet. It’s the chase he’s after.

You dare not turn to check behind you, instead running blindly in hopes of somehow managing to hide. Your logical reason tells you to just leave, but it’s drowned out by pure instinct to run, get away, danger-

Moon has a severe advantage and you both know it. He knows the area. Still, you foolishly blunder on, making a hard right that almost makes you trip before you stumble back up again. You’re lucky he doesn’t do this more often because man you are out of shape. He hasn’t chased you since the first two months, you’d thought these games were behind you.

You wheeze as you bump into a wall, barely managing to dodge a wet floor bot. You can’t keep this up much longer. Your heart’s been kicked into overdrive, beating at a rate you know isn’t normal. Distantly, pain tingles in your elbow, muffled by the adrenaline pulsing through you. You’re surprised you haven’t bumped into any of the GlamRocks. They may not like you, but it’s better than this. 

Maybe they’re patrolling different floors? They could be charging.

All at the same time.

Yeah…

You skid to a sudden stop. You were just here, weren’t you? Ugh, these hallways all looked the same. Your eyes dart around wildly, spotting the familiar Daycare entrance. The faces of golden statues are smiling down at you.

You can’t recall a time where that’s happened to you before. 

Your eyes dart around for some place to hide, landing on a closet. You hear jingling bells in the distance.

You silently pray there aren’t any spiders before shutting yourself inside, leaving the door open just a crack for a sliver of light. 

It’s not a terribly big closet. There’s maybe enough room for you to stand upright. You sit with your knees tucked under your chin, eyes never leaving the door. Just in time. The wire descends and detaches, two feet coming into view. They pad softly on the cold tile, making no noise as he prowls for his prey. 

A shadow in front of the door.

You hold your breath, freezing and throwing a hand over your mouth.

A pause.

His attention is shifted elsewhere. He grumbles and stalks off, leaving you in  the dark. 

You wait maybe thirty seconds for the footsteps to grow silent before exhaling softly and taking stock of your situation. You’re stuck in a broom closet at work and the only other worker here tonight just left. 

Not that Moon would be of any help , you thought bitterly. He just wants you out of the way.

You can’t really blame him for that , though, can you ?

The thought almost sets you off the edge, but you reign yourself in, letting go of a self-deprecating laugh and wiping the tears that form in the corners of your eyes. It doesn’t help. New ones replace them and you let your hands fall back into your lap.

No. No, you couldn’t blame them for it. You invaded their space and made a mess of things. You have a habit of doing that.

That’s why you left, after all. You couldn’t handle messing that up , either.

A shaky sob escapes you, and you press your palms to your eyes to stop the flow of tears trickling down your face. You need this job, you can’t lose it. If you lost it, you’d have no other options. You’d be out of house and home, and then what? Go back with your tail tucked between your legs?

No. You couldn’t go back.

What other choices did you have?

It didn’t matter, anyway. At the end of the day, nothing would change. You were still you, and something always goes wrong no matter what you do. Didn’t matter how hard you tried or how fair it was, it’s always the same.

Sometimes you wonder if everyone would’ve been better off had your brother been an only child.

A soft buzzing in your pocket snaps you out of your episode. You fish your phone out in surprise. That’s right, you’d put it there after this morning.  It vibrates in your hand, the caller ID flashing across the screen. It’s your mother. You stare at it dumbly, making no move to answer it. You’re half tempted to just let it ring till she gives up and drops it as always, but…

You need something to keep the quiet at bay right now.

Swiping to start the call, you hear shuffling over the static and put the speaker close to your ear. A short “hello?” is heard and repeated as she tries to figure out how to use the brick in her hand.

The act is familiar and you manage a watery smile. “Hi, mom.”

“Can you hear m-oh, good, you’re there. Your brother said you messaged him this morning and we just wanted to check in.” Her tone shifts. “You okay there?”

You don’t think you can pull off pretending that you’re fine at the moment. You sniffle into the receiver, curling further in on yourself. “I’m okay, I just…I just had a bad day at work.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”she sighs, and you wince slightly, not really feeling up to whatever questions she has to ask. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head before remembering that you’re on the phone, instead muttering a quiet ‘no’ into the speaker. She stays uncharacteristically silent on the other side of the line, her subtle shifting of the phone the only indicator that she’s still on the call. You know she wants to pry further, force an answer out of you. Sometimes, you almost wish she did, wish she pushed just a bit harder so you could finally break and let it all out.

She doesn’t this time though, puttering out a soft sigh. “Well…alright. Just remember, we’re always here if you need us. Your brother’ll probably check on you anyway, you know how he gets. Just don’t let him burn the building down for your sake.”

A wet snort slips past you before you catch it, imagining your anarchist brother expressing his rage against the machine and corporate capitalism by burning down a rip-off Chuck-E-Cheese. You didn’t think your mother was capable of creating an image like that, either. She hadn’t exactly been very invested in either of your interests. You wonder if she’s been taking pointers from your brother. 

You wave the thoughts aside, realizing you’ve let the conversation taper off and…

You suppose you can let this phone call end on a higher note. You both sort of need it anyway.

“Thanks, mom,” you whisper coarsely, leaning against the stacked boxes and letting your head fall back.

“Of course, dear. You just call us back when you’re ready. Oh, and try to tag along with your brother sometime, it gets lonely without you there. You were much better at listening to his mechanical jargle than we are.”

You exchange a few more quiet answers before wishing her a good night and hanging up, squinting at your brightly lit phone in the dark space. The time reads a little past 10. Moon’s first round of patrols is likely finished, which means it’s finally safe to leave this cramped compartment. 

The door remains shut when you turn the knob.

You try for the handle again, rattling it with greater and greater intensity as your panic begins to build up to no avail. Your hands form fists, soon beginning to bang on the door, eyes wide and breathing erratic. Try as you might, it’s sealed like a tomb, effectively locked inside. 

No, no, no , this can’t be happening, not here, not now. You don’t want to be here, don’t want to be in this dark, cramped closet at the end of some forgotten corridor, stashed with all the boxes and cleaning supplies. 

Your brother had locked you into a closet once. Flipped the switch on the outside and left you alone to battle the demons you couldn’t see. It had been funny, back then, until you started screaming and begging to be let out.

It wasn’t funny now.

You drop to the floor, hands sliding down the wood to lay limply beside you. You can feel yourself shaking, bones rattling as you tremble. Your lungs burn with the force of the rapid inhale-exhale pattern you struggle to keep stable, your heartbeat pounding at the front of your head. Inhale, exhale, thump, thump, inhale, thump -oh, weren’t you supposed to exhale first- thump -and your heart’s not pumping, you can’t breathe, you need to breathe -

You gasp, head reeling, nails digging into your palms and leaving red marks. You struggle to ground yourself, forcing your eyes to focus on the sliver of light from under the doorframe. You inch back, still trembling lightly, staring blankly at the floor as the cold reality dawns on you.

You’re trapped.

No one is here to save you now.

Aaaaand that's a wrap! Hope yall enjoyed that lil chapter, seems like our y/n's gotten into quite a pickle! It's okay, though, they needed some time to process anyways. Speaking of which, Sun and Moon have a LOT to think about... Not sure when I'll post chapter 9, sorry! I have a couple of short snippets planned out already, but typing and connecting them is a whole other matter, so I dunno when I'll get back to this. Until then, however, I hope this is enough, and unfortunately...

The theater is closed...

[nyxi-pixie]

Hi! Questions for the ask game- 3, 6, 13, 22 (alicent! your headcanons are always fascinating so I'm curious and must know), 24(kouyou!!!)

AHGIUE okay

3. NoTP? actually you saying odazai was real asf. i do get why its appealing to people but all the mentor/mentee (and adjacent) bonds in bsd are so important to me as they are and i feel like. because theyre all such significant and often borderline (or. significantly past borderline) obsessive, people feel the need to call them something else to like??? make the importance of the relationship make sense? by making it parental or siblings or romantic when its just. theyre insane as they are‼ aside from that though my other notps are just yosano with any man. sorry i cant do it shes a lesbian to me

6. Show us a bit of a WIP! ough i dont have a lot going atm lemme look. OH. never shared this one publicly. no idea if/when ill finish it but!!

13. What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day? SOOO MANYYY. need to finish writing the rhaenicent wip. wanna write a fucked up cersei/margaery thing at some point. REALLY wanna do beast fic. beast kyouka the worlddddd <3333. its just cos im always in the damn skk trenches theyre so easyyyy

22. Give us a headcanon for [character]. okay this is. every thought i have abt her is miserable. but its real to me that alicent is big on keepsakes (the page...... WHY DID SHE STILL HAVE ITTTT) so in my head she has a little collection of stuff from her younger years and this includes a little baby blanket she embroidered as a gift for aemma's son (which obviously never got used), and she unearthed it some time after aemond was born and used to wrap him in it to try get him to sleep. i just. thinking about her using little things she made in her childhood, and then ending up being the one to use them herself while still no more than a child. hey heyyyyyyy🙁🙁🙁🙁

24. What's your favourite thing about [character]? KOUYOUUUU AUGHHH. everything. ummm simple recency bias answer cos i saw an edit of her slandering ace but i love when shes mean <333 nobody is safe she will slander anyone

[georgieluz]

what's your favorite part about each hbo war show?

the homoseggsuality?

ok lemme be serious for like three whole seconds, my initial answer to this was the characters. i'm someone who can't enjoy media if i don't like how characters are written. i don't mean i can't enjoy something if i don't specifically like the characters as people, but if i don't vibe with how they're written within the world as characters, then i generally struggle to stay invested in their stories. i love characters with actual personality and the one thing these shows give us is characters with personality! and we can point to the characters being based off of real people as being the reason for that, but i don't necessarily think that's the biggest reason. i mean, there are MAJOR things that were different about these characters in most of the shows, so i do think it was about characterisation, not just depiction of the real men, that made the characters who they were in the shows. so, yeah i think overall, my favourite thing in each of the shows would be the range of characterisations and stories being told. i think it's why the hbo war shows appeal to anyone in the fandom, because there's something for everyone? take the pacific, for example, i love to see which thread of narrative fans favour most out of the three. all are valid choices, but it's just very personal which ones we gravitate toward.

so yeah, so far we have gay and characters.

and gay characters

but let me focus properly on each show individually:

for band of brothers, i think it's the storytelling structure. the focus on an individual character in specific episodes to not just tell a story, but to start a dialogue with the viewer about certain themes. and we don't always get to follow those people that we're focused on after their contribution is done, they're snatched away from us, much like people are snatched away from us in life. but for that hour or so, we are consumed by them. we see them, we feel their struggles and their inner conflicts, and pain, and we see and feel their light too. they focus us on something specific and they go deep with it. and even though they may not get the most attention in every other episode, we become completely attached to them. but not just them, but everything they're telling us as well. their stories didn't die. they live on in every post we write about them. yes, even the silly "he's my babygirl" ones. especially them, in fact! i think this is just something that band of brothers did really well. yes, i would like more of a lot of the side characters. i, of course, irrationally want 37 more hours of chuck grant sitting there looking pretty, or alton more and speirs staring each other down for a good hour or so, or more george because he's my GUY and i want 50 hours of just his face, okaY!? but i'm aware that i was never going to get any of that and what i did get was something pretty special in itself. so yeah. i guess, the method of storytelling and use of characters would be my specific favourite for band of brothers. the structure of the show and the format also, bc let's be real, it was the ding ding ding winning formula that started the whole thing and is one of the main reasons limited series are such high standard these days too!

ok, next up, the pacific! anyone who knows me is probably waiting for me to say eddie jones! or hoosier! or ack ack! and you'd be right!! except if i'm being serious (and i know it's been more than three seconds, so by right, i don't have to be serious anymore) then i'd have to say that my favourite thing was sledge's individual character arc and journey. the effect of trauma on one single individual. seeing how it seeps into him and infects him from the inside out. how it changes your very dna (metaphorically, don't come at me PLEASE). these are stories that need to be talked about. i think it's a really important thing they needed to show in depth, and i didn't think they'd be able to do it in an ensemble show, but i think they did it about as well as they could. it was subtle, but not in a way where it was overshadowed or pushed under the rug. it was the main element of his thread of the narrative and actually treated with depth. the show could have easily have used the usual war media excuse of "they didn't care about that then so we're not gonna dive into it too deeply now" or gone the usual predictable and garish route that those that do depict it often follow. so i would say that his arc was my favourite thing about the series. but on a lighter note, my other favourite thing was h-company's friendship. i probably don't talk about them as much as i talk about eddie and ack ack, but i really do love them as characters and a group. i know i whine about leckie being annoying all the time, AND HE IS, but i genuinely enjoy him as a character and his role alongside them. i think the thing i was most disappointed about was not getting to spend that much time with them as a group. i would have loved more episodes of them together. they were such an endearing group of guys and brought an element that i think was needed amongst everything else going on. i'm still not over the show taking hoosier away from me after 5 episodes. that shit was Not cool and i personally don't think i'll ever forgive them. no i won't accept it happening in real life as a valid reason for him leaving. they could have LIED okay?! they could have pretended! IN THIS HOUSE WE SUPPORT CREATIVE LICENSE. WE SUPPORT LYING. WE SUPPORT THE BENDING OF THE TRUTH. ACK ACK IS ALIVE. EDDIE JONES IS ALIVE. HOOSIER DIDN'T GET INJURED. HE WAS FINE. I GOT 5 MORE EPISODES WHERE EVERYONE WAS FINE AND THERE WAS NO WAR AND THEY JUST HUNG OUT ON THE BEACH TOGETHER. LIFE WAS SO GRAND. ok, i told you i was about to get unserious again, so if you're still reading this is on you actually. i did nothing wrong. ever.

also, let me just formally apologise to anyone who just wanted to read about my gen kill opinions and had to scroll all the way down here through that mess. i'll just put my Serious Hat back on, and i'll be right with you, one moment!

okay, i'm here! i'm rocking the Serious Hat once more, so let's talk about my favourite thing about generation kill! this one may be less clear because i've not had as much time to find an eloquent way of expressing my own thoughts about the show as much as the other two, as i watched them earlier, but i do have a lot of things that i love about gen kill, so maybe i'll just throw all of those at you instead. nate fick is obviously one of those things. i'm sorry. i know i said characters already, but i don't think you understand... that man has me in the biggest chokehold ever. i am simply a dog waiting at his feet for instruction. i am the blood running through his veins. i am picking him apart under a microscope. i am thoroughly Obsessed. and it's unhealthy. it's unhealthy and it's all-consuming. i personally need someone to snap me the fuck out of it because what the fuck is this?!?!?! stark sands what have you done????? is this how brad feels? is it? IT IS. it must be. fuck, man. sucks to be us, i guess. ANYWAY. serious hat slipped a bit for a second, but i actually stand by it. nate fick is legit one of my favourite things about the show. so yeah, nate. but i also appreciated that the show was critical about the war, and the military and us government's involvement. it didn't handhold us through that either, it just presented us with what it was saying and left us with "how do your learned experiences and beliefs affect your reaction to this? what does this make you feel and think?". every one of those men was fucked up and flawed, and it's not an easy ride to have your protags without the sugar coating, but that's what makes it the show it is. it can be uncomfortable and you have to be critical with your viewing experience, you don't get to sit back and just enjoy the jokes or the stressed gays staring into each other's eyes. i've discussed that before, so i won't go into it again, but i think it's the one of the most vital things about the show. but it doesn't shy away from letting us in on these men either. you still get attached to some, you still have your favourites. they're the fucked up bad marines, but all the same, you collect them in your palms. it takes good writing, and performance and portrayal, to do that. i think it was very well made as a whole as well. the dialogue was pretty great. the use of very realistic background dialogue, messy and overlapping, was something i really enjoyed about it. having subtitles switched on brought so much more to the show, it's always fun hearing all the guys bickering in the background of shots. and i would die on the hill arguing that they contributed to the narrative bc they did! nothing in film or tv production is ever just There, everything is a construction with a purpose and all of those throw away lines had a little bit of impact on the narrative each episode, but yeah, just the writing in general. the screenplay to be specific. in fact, i'd love to read it, so if anyone knows where it can be found please send it my way, so i can be lazy and not have to search for it. i always love to read the screenplays of shows that have good dialogue and writing and this is very much one of my favourites in that regard!

so to sum it all up (serious hat off, ofc)

the gay. the characters. the gay characters. and nate fick.

and good dialogue and writing and narrative structure!

(ok, i put my serious hat back on for a second there)

ultimately, i just fucking love stories. i can be cynical, in fact, many people who know me might say it's one of my defining personality traits, but fuck, humanity is fickle and fragile and messy and chaotic and i just wanna hear about it all!!! and maybe that's what attracts me to hbo war shows, what i love about all of them the most.