#a game of chance
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the-masked-ram · 1 year ago
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Patreon Update
Patreon Link Carnal Thirst- Chapter Two (First tier) 'His eyes turned to you and there wasn’t a hint of surprise. It was as if he expected you to be there the entire time, there was no way you would have denied him. You swallowed; how could he be so confident?
As you finally reached the bottom of the steps his intense youki swept over you and you gasped. It felt like you were being surrounded, engulfed, and invaded. Like he was entering your mouth, your throat, and your lungs. You could almost taste him, flavors of white ash, burning pine, and cinnamon, and you could see his aura of multi-hued purple and the deepest black shifting endlessly.'
A Game of Chance- Chapter Three (First Tier) 'The singular emotion in that word was nothing but desperate pain. A wish to die. She shuddered violently and when the growths continued, he recognized them, recognized the change and spike in her energy. When she looked at him again, he could see her now vertical pupils vibrating. Her entire aura shimmered around her, bright tangerine changing into a hellfire red. Then it seemed to pull into her and quickly explode outward, pushing Hiei back to slam against the wall with a groan.'
The Forgotten Wing- Chapter Eight (Fourth Tier) 'Shadows engulfed him immediately, thick like tar, living and pulsing. The voices quieted and for once Maalik wished they would stay. There was no sound, no sight, in the room, just black, endless darkness that seemed to stretch into a yawning cavern beyond what was possible. The air was wet, humid, and immediately, Maalik fled out into the hallway.             He leaned against the ash covered walls within trembling limbs, sucking in air as the voices cackled at his dismay.'
Feed the Rich- Chapter One (Second Tier) 'Levi squatted on the balls of his feet, right above the body that was merely a mash of splintered bones and pulverized flesh. Entrails were strewn everywhere, and the air smelled like iron and yet had the acrid tang of bile hanging in it too. Whatever… whoever?... had done this had very much done it with sheer rage and likely with the intent of beating the shit out of this poor victim.'
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chloesimaginationthings · 28 days ago
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The day FNAF Charlie Emily was shut out..
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chthonic-kids · 7 months ago
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y'all
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the-phantom-peach · 24 days ago
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what if… what if you drew malon x link…
eats art (positive)
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Hell yeah!! I love 🔥💥Malink!!!! 🔥🔥💥
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bricreative · 9 days ago
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I’m the ghost in the back of your head
(WIP)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month ago
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All he knows is flirt with men and lie.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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chocobolat · 2 months ago
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hello gamers. a beautiful twitter illustration showcasing the heights of the cupids from inee sensei was posted today. however. i had a certain thought. please direct your attention to the heart-shaped bullet holes near to them. please also notice the location of the one closest to koharu. please also recall that the pipe that killed her was in a similar area of her midsection. does anyone else get it.
anyway. if this does reflect the ways they died then ena's being close to her neck and kanna's being right around her head is interesting. also interesting to note that there are actually two bullet holes next to chiyo, both around where her wings are on either side. i guess we'll see IF PEOPLE KEEP BUYING COPIES OF LOVE BULLET PLEASE (shameless shilling)
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augustjustice · 3 months ago
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I simply think that Steve "Asks Out Anyone He's Interested In No Matter How Many Times And How Badly He Strikes Out" Harrington and Eddie "Wears His Heart On His Sleeve, Tells The People Around Him Exactly How He Feels Without Prompting" Munson would, once they got even an inkling that they liked each other, have the fastest burn alive.
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wireddless · 1 year ago
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Addict
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow/Reader
cw: 17+ hate. fucking. dubcon, possessive behavior, corio is emotionally abusive, vaguely implied Plinth reader, p in v, unprotected sex, nsfw below the cut,
word count: 2.3k
a/n: i just know hes so hung you guys i want him so bad
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Living in the shadow of Lucy Gray was never an easy feat. That’s all she was after the erasure; a shadow, soon to be only a whisper on the sleeping breath of Coriolanus. The closest he could ever feel to real love was with the District 12 songbird, and had she been more than just a district animal, a member of the Capitol, there was no doubt in your mind he would have married her instead.
Your days at the academy, a few years his inferior, were spent in the naive mindset that he was fully capable of love. However, the only true love he would ever feel was towards the power in his cold-handed grasp. After your graduation, you continued living with your family, their prized figurehead of poise and beauty, until they managed to propose your hand to him, only a year or so before he became president.
Coriolanus, living on top of his family’s hidden debt and poverty, accepted nearly immediately, driven by the thought of the millions that came with your name. Your family, so charmed by the icy man, was manipulated into paying for the lavish ceremony. A Capitol wedding was a spectacle to behold, a sea of colored heads and garments, textiles in unique patterns decorating the spectators in a myriad of colors. An insipid eye-sore, in his opinion.
And there you were, the pale lavender of your dress cascading down your body like the drapes that covered a window in a lonely mansion, baby fat gone. The bright light in your eyes that has now long-since faded, the happy expression you held, truly believing the facade he had put on to convince your family that he was a perfect match, it all fueled a fire of satisfaction in his psyche. He remembered the young girl from their studious days, the sneaky glances shot his way from a face framed by baby fat, it was so easy to take advantage of a schoolgirl crush, to charm his way right into your heart. He’d never go hungry again, and he could finally focus solely on his rise to power.
Or so he thought. When you managed to pick his intentions apart and discovered the cunning and manipulative nature of the man, you became defiant, fucking petulant. Your once tender and loving gaze, seeking to nurture and care for him, hardened like the calcium deposits on the well pumps in the poorer districts of Panem. He heard in passing from the workers of the house about your violent fits of tears late at night. It wasn’t like he cared, hell, the idea of your reddened face damp with tears and snot amused him to no end. But fuck if it didn’t annoy him when Tigris became your closest friend and confidant.
Coriolanus kept you locked away in the golden cage of his home, not permitting the men of his staff to go near you, forcing you to discuss with him the simplest task of visiting your own family. You were still the key to his now inherited wealth, a prize that he had won with cunning and malicious tactics, and the thought of you straying into the arms of another man, who could take you, who could take even a bit of the control he held, it infuriated him to no end.
It took almost a year for you to realize that without your family, he was completely broke, and it took almost two to realize he never once held even a glimmer of fondness towards you, that he was using you. Tigris, who had spoken to you during her regular visits, had become the arms you fell into when the agony of your situation first befell you. Her hands wrapped around your body as she shushed and hummed quietly were a solace to you as the pain dawned on you. Three years after your marriage, you would speak in hushed tones over cooling tea, not bothering to hide your glare when Coriolanus bothered joining. He was no longer the subject matter of your conversations with Tigris, instead discussing gossip that had spread through the yammering mouths of Capitol citizens, and the newest trends to pass around them. She had become your dearest friend, one he couldn’t find a valid reason to hide you from. Though he never would admit while his heart was still beating, despite your shared animosity, you were still his favorite accessory.
The Reaping ceremonies for the next annual Hunger Games would begin soon, which became a sensitive topic between you and Coriolanus. It was no secret to you who Lucy Gray Baird had been, who she had been to him. What the hunger games meant to him. You resented her. Not for the place she held near his heart, but for managing to escape him before he had caged her.
The fire of your arguments was always sparked by her name, the tinder and fuel having already been prepared by the years of building resentment. Almost always in his office, your hands would shove him back as he rapidly approached you after you provoked him with harsh and unforgiving words, only fanning the flame of hatred he felt towards you. Then he would corner you, your back against the wall as one hand found your neck and the other found your hair, his fingernails digging at your scalp. His minty breath falling out of his mouth in heavy gasps as he fought the urge to kill you right there. You made him feel as though he was an animal from the districts, dirty and foaming at the mouth. And he hated that.
“You know I would never harm you.” He’d always reassure you when his grip on your throat finally loosened, his eyes taking in the way you would suck in air he had prevented from reaching your lungs. Coriolanus considered what little he allowed you, even the air you breathed, a favor. He thought himself generous, benevolent even. He wasn’t of course, and you were always quick to point that out.
Today's argument was only different in setting, within the walls of your shared bedroom rather than his office. You had shoved him, predictable, and turned to storm away, wanting to find a guest room to sleep in instead. But before you could reach the door, his hand had yanked you by your hair back towards him before nearly throwing you on the bed. When you sat up to scramble away, he shoved you back down by your shoulders and crawled on top of you, effectively pinning you to the mattress, an echo of your frequent taunts. It was rare that you two would actually be in such a position, as neither of you particularly craved intimacy with one-another, yet the way one hand slid up your negligee and gripped the curve of your thigh conveyed a much different message tonight.
“I just wish you’d shut up for once, you know that?” He growled. Coriolanus Snow was an aggressive lover. He put all his weight on his forearm strung across your chest to keep you pinned down as his fingers left their place on your thigh and slid up to the junction of your legs, cupping your heat rather aggressively before shoving them aside and sliding his fingers over your folds to find the sensitive and rather neglected bundle of nerves. You could hardly hide the shudder that overcame you as you responded.
“Fuck you!” You spat at him, writhing under his touch. Your head fell back on the luxurious sheets and you bit back a moan as he swirled his fingers in a circular motion over your clit, stirring the lust you had repressed to life. How he loved to see your eyes rolling back into your skull as you fought surrendering to his ministrations. The edges of his mouth lifted in a smug little smirk when your arousal became more evident, making your cunt slick and pliable.
Oh, how he adored to see his poor, neglected wife fall victim to her own human nature. It made him want to consume you whole, like you were a treat he got all to himself. Coriolanus’s mouth fell to your collarbone and his teeth scraped over the thin skin as he slipped his middle finger inside your sopping hole, earning an earnest mewl from your normally argumentative lips. He bit down rather hard at the junction of your neck and shoulder as he slowly, teasingly pumped his finger in and out. This would be easier than he thought.
He tilted his head back up to take in the sight of your demeanor flickering to something more vulnerable, before taking your mouth with his. He kissed you like you provided the air he needed to breathe, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate. You’d be a fool to say you didn’t still crave him after the years of strained marriage. His teeth clashed with yours as you both attempted to deepen the kiss. When he pushed another finger inside of you, hooking them and speeding up, your mouth fell open with a shaky moan, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.
When your mother described to you what sex was like, she explained it like an intimate dance, where two souls would merge with love and passion. But it was never like that between the two of you. It was always a battle, aggressive and antagonistic as one of you sought to take something from the other. For Coriolanus, it was a display of his authority and control. His fingers quickened in pace and your hips bucked up into his hand, searching for more friction that would aid in your release. And he was benevolent wasn’t he? Who would he be to deny such a rare and primal pleasure? His fingers continued their attack on the spongy roof of your walls, pushing you closer and closer until your hand tore at the skin of his back with the intensity of your orgasm. Still seeing stars, he pulled his lips from yours and hovered them over your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, damp with tears.
“See how easy everything can be when you just stop resisting me at every turn?” You opened your mouth to respond, to bite back when the arm that pinned you down quickly shifted so his hand could cup over your mouth. He loved shutting you up. His silent voice hissed in your ear with a lingering promise. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
So focused on his words and hot breath on your ear, you almost didn’t notice when he pulled his fingers from inside you to tug down your panties, discarding them somewhere behind him before fumbling with the breeches he slept in, the cold air of the room hitting his stiff cock. He brought that same hand up before him, spitting in it and spreading the wetness of his saliva over his hardened length. Barely giving you a second to process all that was happening, he pressed himself inside of you, his eyes squeezing shut and his brow furrowing as your tight, wet heat engulfed him entirely.
Having not been intimate with him in so long, it was like he was splitting you open, and you cried out with pleasure into his hand, your own lashes pressing together as you took his total length. Coriolanus didn’t remain still for long, and his hips soon began setting a bruising pace, his balls slapping against your ass as he fought the urge to moan himself, not wanting to appear any less in control than he was. Your muffled gasps spurred him on, practically driving him mad as he pummeled into you. The volume difference when he removed his hand from your mouth and forearm from your chest was quite noticeable, and his fingers wove into your hair once more, holding your head back against the bed as he swallowed your moans with his mouth.
The stinging pain of your nails in the skin of his back when they flung around him was dulled by the sheer thrill he felt taking you like this. The hand that coaxed your orgasm out of you found its way to your thigh again, pushing it up over your torso to rest on your shoulder, allowing him to thrust deeper inside of you as his fingers dug into the hot and tender skin. You nearly screamed into his mouth from the change in sensation as his hips came flush with yours over and over again. For a brief moment, he pulled away from the kiss to bite and suck at the skin of your neck, letting you sing out unmuted by his hand, as he imagined his songbird would so many years ago.
Coriolanus hated you. He hated almost everything about you. He resented you the way you resented him, but he was still addicted to you. Addicted to the control you allowed him as he fucked you stupid, to the way your pitful moans were brought about by him, to the dumb fucking look on your face as your body managed to make his hips stutter and falter as he came inside you with a low moan. He didn’t care about pulling out. You were his wife, a state figurehead, it was part of the job description to give birth to his children. Maybe getting you pregnant would even do him the favor of shutting you up. He didn’t bother helping you clean up as you readjusted your nightgown, instead opting to wipe the sweat from his brow and tuck himself back in the satin pants he intended on sleeping in.
Coriolanus Snow was not capable of real love. All those close enough to him were well-aware of that fact, including you. But when he crawled into the bed and pulled you, still breathless and trembling, up next to him, when he tucked your head into his chest in a possessive manner, your hands pressed against his heated chest, when he fell asleep holding you like you’d run away too, you momentarily convinced yourself he might have been able to love.
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kensatou · 11 months ago
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have some couth babygirl
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pizzazz-party · 6 months ago
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based solely on chaos’ design floating around on the internet, i have a theory.
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that’s maegara’s body. chaos is literally possessing maegara’s body. (that is maegara’s one bat wing.)
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that is chaos’ old design being held in maegara’s hand. it’d be one thing if it looked more like, i don’t know, a snakeskin? like something chaos had naturally shed and sloughed off? but instead it looks like someone (probably chronos) ripped out chaos’ head and spinal cord in battle. and i think that makes sense, that the two of them would have squared off. chaos is not like the fates. they loved nyx, they would have left their realm and fought for nyx directly.
the living fetus trailing out of the head’s mouth tells me this kind of injury is something chaos can naturally, eventually, regenerate from. but in the meanwhile, recovery on their own means being vulnerable. a primordial entity in the shape of a fetus is still a fetus. in the meantime, chaos would need a new body, a temporary vessel they’d be capable of defending themself with.
the only question is if maegara volunteered for this.
but i think she might have.
if this still sounds bonkers, consider it doylistically. chaos’ original design was unique and striking. do you honestly think supergiant would just throw away an excellent character design like that for nothing? for no story related reasons at all?
so my prediction is this: one of melinoe’s quests will involve helping restore (or speed up the restoration of) chaos’ body (which will then free maegara).
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wordvomit555 · 6 days ago
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I think that the most special thing about David Wymack is the fact that he not only gives people another chance, but also doesn't force them to do anything with it. There are so many characters out there who give a second chance and are disappointed if the person doesn't then raise to their full potential, but not Wymack. He will give you a chance and what you do with it is entirely up to you. And if you fuck up he will give you another one, and another one and not once will he make you feel guilty for fucking up again.
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vynnyal · 8 months ago
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Some comics
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moonsnqil · 6 days ago
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if i was kevin day id be more annoying actually
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bisexualchaosdemon · 8 months ago
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Sometimes, I think about the fact that Wymack is Kevin's dad, and I want to weep. He dedicated his entire life to helping others who had grown up like he had, only to find out that his own son had grown up a caged and abused wreck? That's a level of pain that I can't even fathom.
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gazkamurocho · 1 month ago
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Yeah ✨
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Helping another friend in need xD
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