#i’m keeping the draft hostage

[lume-nosity]

i may have found a solution to the problem i was having yesterday. i’ve finally got all of the writing portions in the draft!

…but my question is, am i able to upload a draft privately and then make it public? because i’m going to do that just to check if everything is in order once it’s out there before making it public (and i hope it works)

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Six

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just haven’t been satisfied with this, but I think I just need to bite the bullet and let it go. I’ve had this in the drafts for a while and have edited it three times.

A/N: I think I might focus on some blurbs. Or, if y’all want, y’all can submit ideas for what Smalltown is gonna be like. I gotta write down a general background for Reader’s childhood there. I have a plan, but wouldn’t mind y’all toss some ideas on to the pile.

A/N: Thank you 🐑 Anon for the happy birthday wishes!

Warning: Kidnapping, Hostage Situation for Reader, Guns, Violence, Death, Yandere Behavior and themes

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After the initially panic and dread of being kidnapped settles into Reader’s bones, they’re quickly brought to the Iceberg Lounge. Where a Penguin waits to discuss the details of their ransom with them. He’s kidnapped a Wayne or two over the years, but with how well hidden the family has kept their newest member he might as well scope them out and see if he can make a pretty penny from ransoming them. Give them a proper Gotham introduction.

When Penguin finally has Reader he wrongly expects typical Gotham high society behavior. Threats, insult, bargaining, begging, bribing, hell, even crying. But, Reader, even while terrified, keeps being polite. Referring to him as Mr. Penguin, Sir, and saying please and thank you, while doing exactly what they’re told. Honestly, Reader’s more polite and respectful than half his goons and his own goddamn children. Such a damn shame they couldn’t have been his brat.

So he chats with them. Just for a bit.

How does Reader like Gotham? Who’s their favorite bat brat? What’s their favorite food? How much money did your Momma and Daddy leave you? Just friendly get-to-know you questions to help with the nerves. No need to worry. Everyone’s a bit scared during their first kidnapping. But, do they usually live past the first one, sir? Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t ya? You’ll have to be careful with that.

It’s all quite tense for Reader, just sitting in an empty club with a dangerous man. That is, until word comes in that Bruce Wayne is paying the ransom in full. Apparently, it made Gotham headlines. The newest Wayne kidnapped. It’s all over the News, nearly every channel. Yet, Reader notices something. Why don’t they show my face, sir? It’s because this isn’t going to be your last time getting kidnapped. You’re in Gotham, baby bird. We’re all hostages in this city. How sweet of them to try to protect you from it.

It isn’t long after that, when the lounge gets visitor before the ransom money could even be dropped off.

Red Hood.

One of the Bat Brats, as Penguin calls him. His arrival raising Cain. Rubber bullets and real ones flying everywhere. Penguin gets a hold of Reader, rest his umbrella gun to their temple. Come now, Red. Don’t make me blow their pretty little head off. I’m actually fond of this one. Best of the Wayne bunch, in my not-so-humble opinion.

And, in one of the few times since becoming Red Hood, Jason hesitates. Because if he fails, if Reader gets hurt like he did, he’ll probably burn Gotham to the ground. It’s not an option. He can’t, he won’t, and he will not allow it. And, that thought, is at the forefront of his mind as he looks at Reader’s terrified face with a gun pointed at their head.

The pause, however, is noticeable. Not just to Reader, but to Penguin as well. A sign of weakness or a sign of something more foreboding. It last for a brief moment. Then Red Hood is back in action. Only, in that single moment, a decision was made. A dark decision. Something that had been healed and supposedly buried.

Batman had always fostered the importance of preparedness in them. So, of course, Jason had a magazine of live bullets ready to go for an emergency. And, this was a fucking emergency. Who cares about a few goons? And Penguin fucking deserves it.

Bruce will understand this time. How sad is it that he does?

Penguin barely escapes, with only a handful of his men still breathing and a few bullets in his shoulder, but he lives. Along with the information that the newest Wayne brat is precious enough to a Bat Brat to break the no-kill code again. Though, that might in itself become a problem for Gotham. Once again, Gotham will baptized in blood. Only, the sins are still growing under the red water. Perhaps, this time Gotham will drown in it instead.

Jason grabs a shaking and terrified Reader while leaving the lounge filled with bodies. He’ll take care of it later. Right now he needs to get Reader back to the manor, or somewhere anywhere safe. Away from Gotham, away from its criminals, and, most of all, away from him.

For a moment he had been… enraptured when he saw how scared his precious Reader looked with a gun to their head. How they looked at him with such a pitiful pleading expression. The way the shook and quaked. How fucking big their eyes got in fear.

Reader kept looking at him with those same watery fearful eyes. Those shaking fingers. A tremble that they must be all the way down to their bones. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.

He didn’t make it for before he snapped, grabbing Reader’s face to ask what they talked with Penguin about. What did he want from you? Why did you look so friendly with him? Don’t you know he’s a criminal. He’s dangerous. He just wants to see them cower like that again. Just once more.

It takes a long moment for him to calm down and pull himself away from terrifying Reader. Eventually, noticing an oncoming storm and realizing he had better get Reader somewhere safe and back to Bruce so he can go back and clean up the trash.

Jason leaves a throughly shaken and distraught Reader on the GCPD roof. Right next to a lit Bat Signal for a tired Jim Gordan to find.

Jim finds Reader in the storm, mildly despondent from the entire ordeal. After ushering them inside and trying to lightly question them, he makes a call to Bruce that Red Hood had rescued Reader and they the GCPD had them safe. Bruce, naturally , breaks all sorts of traffic laws to get to them when he hears the concerned tone in Jim’s voice.

Reader, exhausted from the days events and shock, falls asleep in one of the spare chairs in the GCPD building. Bruce practically melts in relief when he finds them, picking them up and gently loading them in his car. NOT A DAMN TRUCK. To take them back home. Most of the GCPD find the gesture touching. What a sweet father he is. How lucky Reader is to have such a loving father.

Arriving home, Bruce puts Reader to bed, and makes sure Alfred is on stand by to comfort them and see to their every need. Watch them. Let me know if there’s even the slightest sign of a nightmare.

After taking a moment to let his eyes linger on a sleeping Reader, he heads down into the Batcave. Calling the family together for a meeting.

Stephanie is distraught. It’s her fault Reader got taken, all her fault. She shouldn’t have left them alone. She should have been right there be their side the entire time. At every moment and got every second.

And, Bruce, with deceptively calm yet devastating words, confirms just as much.

Surprisingly, there’s no shouting. No disagreements. Not from Stephanie, and certainly not from any one else. Just the cold realization that it was her fault Reader was nearly hurt and the solemn acceptance of it. They were supposed to have a chance to get close. Stephane won’t ever let it happen again. She’ll always be close from now on. In every way she can. Even if she’s not worthy.

Jason having gone back to clean up his mess before reporting back to Bruce and the others had more startling news. No one mentions a thing when they see the blood on him. Nor the empty magazines. Nor that familiar look in his eyes that reminds them of when he first came back. Someone had torched the Iceberg Lounge before he got back. Penguin is still running free, but the lounge is up in fire and smoke.

He did manage to see a figure leaving when he finally saw past the flames.

A Talon.

The Court of the Owls was active once more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

With the whole Kidnapping thing and the Court being active again despite its previous destruction, Reader’s life went on completely lockdown. They aren’t allowed to go into Gotham at all. Not that they wanted to. The only reason Bruce didn’t just unenrolled them from Gotham Academy is because Damian, Cassandra, and Duke vow to watch them closely and report everything back to him.

Alfred, from then on, drives them all to and from school. Leading to quiet, bordering awkward, mornings and afternoons.

After the whole ordeal with Penguin and Red Hood, Reader is ninety percent certain the family is Gotham’s Bat vigilantes. Mainly due to the fact that Red Hood reminded Reader eerily of how Jason acted to be around them. Luckily, he barely managed to hold himself back. But, it was clear, enjoyed their fear and wanted to scare them. The whole situation resulted in Reader’s momentarily loss of control.

It also didn’t help that everyone seemed to disappear now.

Sure, Reader rides to school with Cassandra and Duke everyday. Damian is also there, but he just silently watches them with those poisonous green eyes of his. The three of them now hovering in the distance down the back of Reader’s neck. Nevertheless, as soon as they were all back in the Manor, the place becomes like a ghosttown. Even Alfred disappears for hours on end now.

Reader rightful assumes it’s more Bat work. But, there’s no one there to talk about how the incident made them feel. To help them verbally process the ordeal. It hurts.

What hurt the most, however, was Stephanie avoiding them.

Now, if Stephanie had just given them even an empty excuse and left the room it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. But, to watch the blood drain from Stephanie’s face at the sight of Reader and then physically run away from them was offensive and down right painful.

Then there’s the additional fact that, coincidentally, Jason starts showing back up at the manor. Undoubtedly, helping the others with whatever they’re doing in the library. But, Reader sees him as more often as they pace the empty halls of the manor. And, that hysterical gleam in his eyes reminds them of that night they were rescued.

Tim has been like a ghost since the beginning of Reader’s stay. Every time Reader seems to make progress befriending him, he disappears. Only to reappear and act like nothing happened. Unnaturally, he acts like they’re somehow even closer than before. Each and every time. Like he’s never let Reader alone. Ever. Like he’s always been there watching. And, then he disappears, again and again. Only staying for brief moments.

Barbara is just a thought in Reader’s mind. Reader has seen more of Jim Gordon, her father, than Barbara in the recent weeks.

Mr. Gordon had been wanting to check in on them after the incident and ask them a few questions on what happened that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He was quite gentle in his interrogation, if you could call it that. Barbara had told him Reader wasn’t used to Gotham’s madness and must be treated gently.

Not to say Barbara isn’t checking on Reader. Tim’s not the only on constantly checking the manor cameras as Reader paces.

Dick was like a stray wind. Blowing through the manor, knocking Reader over with the shower of affection then disappearing again. To the library. To Buldhaven. To the ends of the world and back for all they knew. Unfortunately, Reader was growing desperate for any sense of comfort and would cling to him when he came. You have no idea how happy that made him. It was so cute how sad Reader was when he left now. How nice it felt to be needed.

Bruce was different, though. After the incident, he somehow managed to find a way to suffocate Reader with his presence without even being in it for long. Appearing at random to just watch them before disappearing again. Nothing was ever said. He just watched them then vanished.

Reader dreads having to bring up the whole incident with Penguin and Red Hood to Nana. They don’t want to cause anyone back home to worry. Besides, it’ll just remind everyone about that incident a few years back. The one that Reader does everything to forget about. The incident that would probably change a few things for better or for worse. For the family and for Gotham.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Yeah, Penguin lives. But, for a reason. Don’t get mad, please. (I did research and found out he was basically Yandere for his mother and killed his father and brothers to have all her attention for himself. And, he has children. 👀)

A/N: Also, reader’s getting some mild tragic backstory. It’s the DC universe. Everything’s gotta have a bit of bitterness. It’s all for the plot.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Taglist:

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury

[hyperfix-wip]

Octobie Wildcard: Double Interrogation

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Detective! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Detective! Reader

Summary: Hobie reluctantly accepts going into a police interview but bites off more than he could chew once he realizes his ex will be interviewing him.

Word count: 4.8k

Author's Note: I MADE IT IN TIME FOR WEEK 3!!! I'd like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading an earlier draft of it! Event by @the-kr8tor and banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment . This prompt is based on a DND campaign from Dimension 20’s Unsleeping City: https://youtu.be/Ukt_uoeh_YY?si=laDicS-fMXIMazGB

Tags: Ex!Hobie, Older!Hobie, Ex!Reader, Older!Reader, Detective!Reader, American!Reader, Explicit Language, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

As far as Hobie can remember, this is probably the first time he’s been inside a police station without being charged for something.

He sits back against the backrest of the metal chair in the interrogation room, tipping the chair back and balancing it on its back legs while his long, gangly legs rest on the dark wooden table. It was a surprise for Hobie when his friend Gwen begged him to go into a police interview in her stead for a freak criminal attack at a wedding in Manhattan, resulting in a few civilian casualties and the capture of some obscure criminal duo he can’t seem to remember at the moment. She knows damn well about how he feels about those blue pigs– especially with his history with the corrupt law system back home– but any inkling of refusal died on his tongue the moment she mentioned that the interview was going to be with her dad of all people. Seeing Gwen’s desperation to keep her identity a secret as she trembles in front of him, Hobie could only sigh and reluctantly agree.

Damn, he’s getting soft. 

A quiet groan rumbles in his chest as he rolls his head back to look up at the ceiling. The room itself is dim, with only a couple of barred windows filtering sunlight inside and a small light hanging in the middle of the ceiling. The dingy fan quickly spins around, making the silver plastic pull chain swaying back and forth with soft clinks echoing in the room. His spider senses tingle in a low hum against his skin as another bored groan rumbles up from his throat. His eyes glance over to the one-way glass, his brows furrowing from his spider senses not picking up any bodies on the other side of the window, before brushing it off and glancing back up at the ceiling.

Thought there were supposed to be a group of them watching over these kinds of interviews, Hobie thinks to himself as his hand reaches up to the hem of his mask and pulls it up halfway. He absently tugs on his lip ring with his front teeth while he scratches his chin, his scruff brushing against his calloused fingers. He’s tempted to push himself off the uncomfortable chair and get the hell out of this room, but the hairs of his arms barely stand up before the heavy metal door finally opens. A uniformed young woman with a police badge walks into the room with a tray of small chocolate biscuits and a paper cup with the tea bag string hanging off the lip.

“Sorry about this,” the young officer shyly sets the plate and cup down on the table in front of him. “I know you were supposed to meet with Captain Stacy and the rest of the Criminal Investigations Unit, but there was an emergency hostage situation at Upper Manhattan, and… well, I’m sure you and the rest of the Spider Gang are already aware of it and are already taking care of it with them.”

Her eyes then widen as she nervously smiles at him, “but we do appreciate you coming here to cooperate with one of our other cases! I just hope this isn’t a waste of your time being here instead of with your team.”

A small scoff slips through Hobie’s lips as he grabs the warm paper cup, his nose subtly crinkling from the familiar smell of Lipton tea wafting into his nostrils before he politely takes a sip. “S’alright, love,” Hobie reassures her with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure all of the other Spiders are handling it without me.”

Although being over there would probably be a lot more interesting, Hobie thought to himself before grabbing a chocolate biscuit and taking a bite of it. The bittersweet chocolate and hazelnut flavor floods his mouth before he reluctantly washes it down with the hot flavored water (he refuses to call that tea). “Should I come back at a later time if the captain–” Hobie internally grimaces from the polite term– “is unavailable?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry!” the young woman smiles at him sheepishly. “One of the detectives from the CIU will still be able to interview you. She just needs to gather all of the files Captain Stacy left her before he and the rest of the unit left.”

The young woman then starts to head towards the door, “I’ll check up on her, so hang tight.”

As the young woman leaves the room, the polite smile ghosting Hobie’s face instantly disappears before a bored frown takes over. He lifts his arm to check on his Web-Watch, already scanning through the updates from the other Spiders and their missions, including the hostage situation mentioned earlier. His eyes soften as he sees a small photo of Mayday and Peni hanging over a ledge with some Jamaican patties in their hands while Gwen, Miles and Pavitr swing into what seems like the Alchemax building.

A small snort slips through his nose as a small smile curls up on his lips. Even after working with them for almost ten years, he still can’t help but remember all of them as the bright-eyed young Spiders. Even Mayday, who he met with Peter when she was only a year old, has grown up into the fiery little spitfire that he knew she would become, helping out behind the scenes with the rest of the younger Spiders while the veterans handle the more dangerous missions.

Fuck, Hobie’s getting old.

Hobie shakes his head and tugs his mask back down as he continues to scroll through all of the updates, his eyes quickly spotting an exasperated Captain Stacy and a bewildered Captain Morales-Davis of the Emergency Service Unit, before a private message from Gwen pops up. His brows furrow as he taps onto the message on the screen while more messages pop up.

Gwen: Just saw my dad at Alchemax

Gwen: Almost all of CIU actually

Gwen: Well…except one

Gwen: Sorry, Hobs 😭

Wait, what?

Before Hobie can respond to the messages, his skin crawls underneath his spandex and his heart almost drops to his stomach from the familiar tingle in the back of his head, that tingle sending an overwhelming, bittersweet wave of emotions he was not prepared for. He instantly jumps up from his seat and knocks the metal chair over, the chair clattering against the linoleum flooring, but the heavy metal door opens before he could pry the bars off one of the windows.

His eyes quickly dart at the young officer standing underneath the doorway with some papers in her arms, and right behind her is you.

You, one of the youngest detectives of the Criminal Investigations Unit in the New York Police Department. The rookie detective who helped the newly-formed Spider-Gang at the time figure out and crack down the notorious Sinister Six at the height of their power. The detective in the running to be promoted to Sergeant despite your age. One of the few people who personally knows all of the Spider-Gang’s identities.

And his ex-girlfriend.

Hobie quietly mutters an “ah fuck” under his breath before he reluctantly picks the metal chair back up and flops back down on the seat, resigned to the awkward conversation awaiting him. At the same time, you stare at him with a stoic face while slowly walking into the interrogation room, setting an old-school recorder down on the table across from him while the young officer sets the files down in front of you. You quietly thank her as you take your seat across from Hobie, and she nods back at you before glancing over at Hobie again. With a slight blush on her cheeks, she turns away and scurries out of the room, closing the metal door behind her.

An awkward silence instantly looms inside the interrogation room as you adjust the recorder and straighten out the stack of paperwork, your eyes staying downcast and on the items in front of you while you ignore Hobie’s tensely apprehensive figure. His skin crawls and tingles at the sight of you in spite of his dread of seeing you again after the tumultuous breakup before your transfer to the CIU. After that you mainly kept in contact with the rest of the Spider-Gang throughout your career, seeking their cooperation when there were metahuman cases that you deemed too dangerous for the NYPD alone, and made no contact with him for five years until today.

And he's going to have a very long talk with Gwen after he’s done with this damn interview. 

With everything set up to your liking, you let out a reluctant sigh of your own before finally looking up at him.

“You can take the mask off,” you finally break the silence as you massage the bridge of your nose. “Nobody else is here to watch over this, and I already disabled all the cameras in the room. Per request by Ghost Spider, of course.”

Hobie furrows his brows at your cool, formal demeanor, as if you don’t go out for lunch with Gwen during your rare days off– not that he needed to know that– but he shrugs it off. True to your word, his spider senses only sense you in the room and no one else on the other side of the one-way glass, and with a grudging sigh, his hand reaches up to the hem of his spike-mohawked mask before slowly peeling it off his face. His newly twisted dreads flutter down to his shoulders, and his silver piercings glint against the lights as his piercing dark eyes land on yours again. His eyes briefly soften at the obvious dark circles under your eyes and the slight gauntness of your cheeks before hardening to a bored stare again.

You stare at him back with your own impassive look in your eyes before speaking again. “Thank you. Now, per protocol, I will ask for your permission to record this interview–”

“Is that really necessary?” Hobie interrupts you, his annoyance slowly peeking through as he clenches his jaw and furrows his brows again.

Your eyes sharpen with an unamused narrow as you sit back against your seat and cross your arms against your chest. With a click of his tongue and a scoff, he looks away from you and waves his hand, signaling you to continue.

“...as I was saying,” you resume with a hint of irritation in your voice, “do I have your consent to record this interview?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Hobie mutters under his breath, and you ignore the slight twitch in your eye before continuing.

“Alright then,” you manage to keep most of your irritation out of your voice as you press the play button on the recorder with a click. “This is Detective Y/N L/N of the New York Police Department 21st Precinct Criminal Investigations Unit. I am currently interviewing a member of the vigilante group Spider-Gang, Spider-Punk–”

“Spider-Man.”

“No, I’m not calling you that–”

“Spider-Man.”

“There’s like five Spider-Men in the group. I am not confusing Captain Stacy with which Spider-Man I’m talking to when he reviews this tape–”

“Spider. Man.”

You let out an exasperated groan and massage your temples as a small headache ebbs out from his stubbornness. Breathing in a deep breath before slowly exhaling until your lungs briefly deplete, you stare at Hobie with a deadpan before relenting with a roll of your eyes.

“Correction, the member is Spider-Man–” you narrow your eyes at him with an annoyed look as he gives back a mocking smirk before reverting back to his guarded nonchalance, “ –also known as Mr. Brown as provided by Ghost Spider–”

Hobie instantly sits up on the metal chair with a loud scrape, staring at you with disbelief as you instantly stop the recording with a scowl of your own.

“Have you lost the bloody plot?! The hell are you doing giving my last name–”

“Hey– Gwen was the one who gave the damn list of aliases for you guys. I don’t know why the hell you were just written as Mr. Brown, but that’s what she picked for you!”

“Goddamnit–” Hobie clenches his fists in the air with a frustrated inhale, briefly lamenting why none of the Spiders know how to lie properly, before heaving out another sigh. “Y’know what, whatever. Fine. I don’t– just– just keep going.”

As Hobie drops back down on his seat with a disgruntled huff, you roll your eyes with a slow angry exhale before you press play on the recorder again. “As stated before, Spider-Man, also known as Mr. Brown, is in interview room 138 with me today for the metahuman criminal attack at a wedding in Central Park. As requested by Ghost Spider, the interviewee will be referred to by an alias to protect their civilian identities if there is an unforeseeable future where any tapes involving the vigilante group fall into the wrong hands.”

You clear your throat before looking up at him with a professional, impassive deadpan. “Now, Mr. Brown, thank you for coming into this interview–”

“You seriously gon’ call me Mr. Brown,” Hobie scoffs under his breath as he crosses his arms against his chest, and your eye twitches again as you glare at him across the table.

“Are we really doing this now?”

“Oh my god– no, I just– this thing is just–”

“I’m at work, okay–”

“Yeah, I get that, but Mr. Brown is just fucking stu–”

“So the thing here with me, ‘bie, is that I’m at work right now. Okay?”

Hobie clicks his tongue and looks away from you again, ignoring the small flutter from hearing your slip of the tongue with that stupid pet name. Meanwhile your eyes harden and sharpen at him as you stare daggers at him, one of your hands balling up into a fist as you take another breath to calm down before you continue on with the interview.

“So, Mr. Brown,” you emphasize with as much irritation in your voice as you can without breaking your professional demeanor while glancing at the papers, “Based on my understanding with one of the written interviews with Spider-Byte at the crime scene, you were one of the first respondents who arrived at the scene to stop the attack of…”

You glance at the paper again and raise an eyebrow, your eyebrows furrowing in slight disbelief of the next words coming out of your mouth.

“...Styx and Stone.”

“May break my bones,” Hobie mutters under his breath as he glances at you with a bored look again before straightening up on his seat. “Yeah, I was one of the first respondents to arrive at the scene, along with another vigilante who was there before me.”

In a petty impulse, a strained smirk curls up on his face. “Black Cat, who I have personally worked very intimately with along with the rest of the Spider-Gang–”

CLICK!

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you–”

“Fuck you–”

“No, fuck you–”

“Go fuck yourself–”

“A’ight, I don’ actually want to do this–” Hobie growls out as he holds his hands up in a frustrated surrender, but you were still fuming across from him.

“I always knew there was something going on between you two–”

“No, there was nothing–” Hobie sputters out as he slams his hands against the table and pushes himself up from the table and glares at you– “there is NOTHING between me and Felicia–”

“Felicia?!” You bark back as you follow suit, slamming your own hands against the wooden table and pushing yourself up. “Oh, so you two are on first name bases now, since you two are so intimately acquainted–”

“Oh my fucking god–”

“You’re such a piece of shit, you fucking dog–”

“No, don’t even start this shit!” Hobie’s voice grows louder and rumbles against the walls.

“Oh, please–” you scoff as an overwhelming surge of adrenaline grows and lumps up in the back of your throat– “so you’re telling me you were faithful, protector of New York City–”

“I AM FAITHFUL!” Hobie screams out in anger and anguish, his hands balling up into fists as he slams one of them against the table, “I WAS FAITHFUL! I WOULD HAVE CONTINUED TO BE FAITHFUL–”

Both of you scoff and look away from each other as you both slowly lower yourselves onto your seats again, the brief fire of the familiar, bitter back-to-back from the end of your relationship now extinguishing into a slow, quiet simmer. After a long moment of awkward silence, Hobie lets out a defeated sigh.

“...’s not actually like that,” he quietly admits as he slowly slumps down on the metal chair, the hard edges digging into his flesh. “I just…”

Your eyes flick back to him, his figure almost shrinking under your scrutiny before Hobie finally looks at you with an unreadable expression. 

“I…I’m just miffed, alright?” he adds on with a slight sulk. “She was there to try to nab some expensive necklace the bride had ‘cuz the groom was from some rich family, so it was just a coincidence for her to be there during the attack…”

Hobie squirms under your hawk-like gaze, oblivious to your eyes softening slightly the longer you look at him. “I don’t– I don’t why I said it like that, it was honestly just business as usual…”

You stay quiet as he trails off, the raw hurt and resentment still lingering in your chest, before you look back down at the papers with a tired sigh of your own. “Business. Right.”

You absently worry your bottom lip with your front teeth, which Hobie’s eyes briefly linger onto before flicking away, before you glance back up to him and press the play button on the recorder again. “So, what? Was that attack from Styx and Stone just a coincidence or something, or are they connected to like a bigger organization like the Sinister Six–”

“No, no,” Hobie instantly shakes his head as he runs his fingers along his dreads, “it’s a fucking coincidence. The gang and I made sure to look into them ‘n everythin’. Think one of them had some personal connection with the bride’s side or sumthin’.”

You let out a low acknowledging hum as you flip through some of the papers. “Hm, yeah, I think one of my colleagues got that written down, but I don’t think they got the full details.”

Your fingers continue to leaf through the paperwork, your eyes downcast to avoid looking at him now. “Did you or any other member find out what the connection was, or if you heard any other conspiracy of another attack from the duo or a key witness at the scene?”

Hobie’s face drops to a pensive frown as his hand reaches up to scratch the scruff of his chin. “According to Stone, I think, his partner used to work for the bride’s father’s research company, and the father laid him off and cut the funding of his lab work or sumthin’. Tryin’ t’ r’member what that company’s called. Sumthin’ Chemical–”

“No, the name is fucking pretentious,” you mutter under your breath as you grab one of the papers and bring it closer to yourself. “Symbi-Ottic Chemical.”

“Yeah, that,” Hobie nods along with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Apparently they had some scandal involving some animal-testing that they had to sweep under the rug. Pinned the blame on the scientist one of the duo, and he wanted some revenge ‘n shit. Petty shit.”

You give another hum of tepid acknowledgement as you grab the rest of the papers on the table and shuffle them, your face reverting back to that impassive deadpan before you stop the recording again. Hobie raises his pierced eyebrow in confusion before you prop your elbows on the table and lean forward.

“This is strictly off the record,” you sigh with reluctance, your fingers fidgeting slightly against each other, “I just came across this information, so not even Captain Stacy and the rest of my team know about this, but…”

Hobie slowly leans forward against the table, waiting for you to continue. You hesitate from his gradual closeness before you glance away and brush it off.

“Symbi-Ottic Chemical is a branching company of Alchemax.”

Hobie’s eyes widen as you continue. “And knowing that Alchemax was a merger between Oscorp and another chemical company, I am merely speculating that the attack at Central Park and Alchemax might be more connected to each other than we both initially thought…”

You shrug while setting the stack of papers down on the table. “I don’t know. I’m just… I doubt this can actually be related to the Sinister Six since Osborn is gone, and I don’t have any conclusive evidence or anything like that, but…I’m trusting you guys could look into that hunch for me, okay?...”

Still reeling from that small revelation, Hobie quietly nods as he grabs his mask from the table. Your eyes glance over at the spiked mask before you shake your head and look away with a huff of disbelief.

“My life’s a fucking comic book.”

“Okay, seriously–”

Hobie stares at you in disbelief while you glare back at him, “No, because this whole–” you gesture to his spider suit in frustration– “costume getup, supervillain attacks and conspiracies, and the whole secret identity - slash - double-life bullshit is getting ridiculous!”

Hobie groans as he rubs his face against his hands before looking back at you with a tired stare. “Y/N, you’re still in law enforcement. You’re still taking care of normal crime shit, not just the metahuman cases–”

“Oh, oh– so I should just get used to stopping some purse snatcher that may or may not have some fucking superpower that could–”

You quickly cut yourself off and hold your hands up in the air, the headache from before gradually throbbing as you take another breather. “I…probably… go through, like, six cups of coffee a night just to go through all the paperwork for these metahuman cases–”

“That is so bad for you, Cherry,” Hobie interjects with a flash of concern in his eyes, not noticing his slip of the tongue, “you could at least call me or something if you’re struggling with that–”

“Oh, what, so you can do your fucking–” you wiggle your fingers in agitation– “spidey hands?!”

Hobie groans into his hands again, his fingers pressing against his eyeballs in frustration as tension builds up in his shoulders. His hands slowly drag down to look at you with a haggard stare. “Look, I- I don’t want to argue with you about this…”

“I joined the forces so I can help people, Hobie,” you cross your arms against your chest as your eyes grow glassy, ignoring the burning sensation rising up in your chest. “I didn’t sign up to deal with the politics between humans and metahumans and the cleanup of the aftermath–”

Hobie swallows down the bile burning the back of his throat as you look away with a sniffle, refusing to look vulnerable in front of him before you look back with a tired look.

“...when Peter and Miles were trying to stop The Sandman from rampaging last week, one of my colleagues and I got hit by a sand attack,” you grumble with a slight flush on your cheeks. “Do you realize how unpleasant it is to get sand out from between your ass cheeks and other crevices in your body after a fucking week?”

Hobie lets out a small huff of laughter in spite of himself before clearing his throat to stifle the rest of the laughter. “I-I can only imagine…”

He continues to look at you, his eyes traveling along your face and body as you sit in front of him. Your dark circles are more prominent to him now, your shoulders tense and in a proper need of a massage, your cuticles picked to hell– god, you picked up your skin picking habit again– and the dimmed light in your eyes. His heart painfully lurches at the sight as his face drops to a pensive frown.

“Look, Y/N, what the hell do you want me to say?” Hobie whispers to you, struggling to keep his voice even. “I’m sorry? I’m sorry that we met? I’m sorry that I fell in love with you? That you fell in love with me? That we got together and I trusted you with my secret and everybody elses’?”

His breath hitches as he continues, the back of his eyes burning while his eyes start to get glassy too. “I’m sorry that when you graduated from the police academy and joined the forces, you got caught up in one of Green Goblin’s attacks and almost died in your first year? I’m sorry that I was stubborn and kept trying to push you to quit when you didn’t want to? I’m sorry that I broke up with you when you kept refusing? That I basically dragged you into this whole thing where you have to be a fucking mediator between the gang and those blue pigs now. That you’ve been talking to Gwen and Miles while avoiding me this whole time for five years even though I gave you a bloody fucking Web-Watch to contact me–”

He quickly looks away to the ceiling, refusing to let the tears in his eyes roll down his cheeks, before he lets out a shaky exhale and looks at you again. His chest aches again at the sight of you shaken up, your own eyes welling up as your face pinches up to fight off your own tears.

“What do you want me to say?” his voice comes out in a defeated, broken whisper. “And please, please, don’t call me Spider-Punk, Spider-Man, and especially Mr. Brown…”

A stray tear rolls off your cheek at his quiet plea, hesitation and longing briefly flickering in your eyes, and you turn your head away to wipe the tear streak off with a sniffle before clicking the play button on the recorder again.

“...Mr. Brown, thank you for your time.”

A sharp sting stabs at Hobie’s chest at your answer, but he reluctantly nods before languidly standing up from his seat and slides his mask back on. “Yeah, sure. I’ll…I’ll give you a ring or have someone else in the gang to, if we find out anything more about your case.”

You nod with a solemn frown as you slowly stand up and shuffle the papers before stopping the recorder one last time. With a heavy heart Hobie starts to walk towards the door, his heavy combat boots echoing against the walls as his body itches to finally leave the stifling interrogation room.

His hand wraps around the cold metal door handle, but before he can pull it open, his ears pick up soft footsteps behind him.

“Hobie…”

You slowly approach behind him, your eyes lingering on the planes of his back, even with the layers of his spandex suit and leather vest covering his towering figure. Memories briefly flicker in your mind, one of a younger, much happier Hobie wrapping his arms around you, peppering kisses against your face until you burst out laughing with him. Ones of him holding onto you as he swings through New York with his web-shooters, both of you flying against the sunset and over the cityscape with adrenaline running through your veins. Ones of the quiet nights in your little crappy one-bedroom apartment where you both fall asleep in each others’ arms after he comes home from patrol, safe and sound and with you–

You swallow down the lump in your throat before you quietly speak again.

“...please be safe.”

For me, you end your last words in your thoughts, not finding the courage to say it out loud after seeing him for the first time in five years.

Hobie stands frozen in front of you, his back still facing you, making you stare at that spider emblem on his vest, his symbol for his role as Spider-Man.

Before you can take it back, he suddenly turns around and pulls his mask halfway up before pulling you closer to him, pressing his lips against your forehead goodbye. He just as quickly pulls away from you and lets go of you before yanking his mask down and slipping out of the interrogation room, leaving you standing there alone stunned and flustered. 

Meanwhile, Hobie rushes out of the police station with a flick of the wrist and a web shooting out of his shooter before he swings off and escapes to the city, his mind racing and his heart thrumming against his ribcage. Depending how the rest of the day goes, he’s either going to be dealing with more silence or an angry/flustered call from a soon-to-be sergeant.

[pocketsizedq]

Becareful Mamas

requested: could you do something about a pregnant reader going to jamie’s games, and maybe he is like super protective or something over reader cause she’s like 7 or 8 months and he just loves to fuss over her being i’m comfortable and everything?

Word Count:704

Typically, Jamie was a calm and easy going guy when it comes to you coming to his games as he knew you were a strong independent woman who could take care of herself, but now that you were pregnant it made him worry about you scared something bad would happened at the game while hes on the ice.

You also being nearly eight months pregnant made him anxious when you told him you would be coming to his last game before playoffs as you didnt want to put that stress on him.

"Jamie you can't hold me hostage at home I'm pregnant not a sick victorian child." you spoke looking at the canadian standing in the doorway as you got dressed.

"Princess" He looks down at your very pregnant figure. "you know i want you to be there. it's just not safe for you honey."

Jamie and you have been together since he first got drafted to the ducks so you were able to get to know his teammates while he did and had seen nearly all of his home games.

You still went to support them even when Jamie got injured as they were like family to you too. The organization and fans knew you and respected you as they knew you weren't some chick just with him to get with trevor.

"Im safe there just as much as i am at home" you say looking at him who has moved to sit on the bed as you put on one of the duck crewnecks that jamie had with plain pair of leggings as none of your jeans fit.

"I just don't want her or you getting hurt while i'm there" Jamie said knowing that he will be the one to take you there so you would have to sit through the warms ups and everything.

~~~

You stayed as lowkey as possible so you wouldn't bring attention to yourself. Jamie had made sure you were comfortable as He had made you sit near where the players stayed so he could keep a close eye on you.

As He help you go down the bleachers stairs before he had to go on the ice to make sure you didn’t fall he spoke softly saying a “be careful mamas.” Before planting a kiss on your head going to where he was suppose to be.

Every moment He wasn't on the ice He was making sure you were comfortable and being very protective if someone got to close to you or said something that he didn't like.

~~~~

Jamie removes his helmet when he steps down from the funnel all sweaty ready to get home and see you to make sure everything is alright going into the locker room to start untying his skates.

He saw you standing near the locker room so he knew you were alright as he started to remove the rest of the gear off of his sweaty body.

Jamie knew the smell of odor cause you to get sick so he makes sure to shower and put on a pair of clothes he brought with him.

Since He never had to do media or anything like that. He gave trevor a hug before saying bye to the rest before making his way out to you.

You were leaned up against the wall looking at your phone holding your back as it started to hurt.

Jamie made his way over to you wrapping his arms around you to which you put your phone in your pocket turning in his arms giving him a big kiss.

"ready to go home jam?" you said looking up at him you could tell by his eyes that he was tired you gently moved your hand up and down his back.

Jamie nods moving his arms from around you taking your hand into his larger one pulling his keys out of his pocket right after doing so he picks you up bridal style knowing your feet is probably swollen before you could protest he said.

"no matter how tired i am you and our little girl will always come first" Jamie spoke in a calm voice which made your heart melt and you kissed his cheek.

[http-paprika]

GOLD RUSH / ALEX KELLER

oh shit, I haven't written in ages. apparently all I needed was the be reminded that the golden (no pun intended) american boy exists, a Taylor swift song and suddenly i'm out of the biggest writing slump i've had in a while. well, enjoy this rambling shit and enjoy the introduction of my new call of duty oc, Beau. xoxo, paprika

alex keller x original female character / 512 words / sexual implications, but never actually expanded on

HOW could she not fondly watch him, the way his skin stretches over his broad shoulders, the marks, scars, and tattoos that tell their own story? It didn’t matter that Beau had emails to respond to or deadlines to reach, and a conference call with foreign allies in an hour, the sight of his tan line that peeps out from his waistband caught her eye every time. Encroaching in on her decisions and logistics, terrorizing her in the longest minute to ever exist. 

The moment breaks, Alex runs his hand through his dirty blond hair and down to his neck before turning to look at her as she collects herself from the trance. God forbid anyone see that Beau wasn’t the cool girl she pretended to be. 

“I’m going to shower and hit the road. Hate to keep you from all your important, top-secret work.” Alex tells her, the early sunlight gleaming in his blue eyes. He had places to be, she told herself, work to do, and other women to charm. It wasn’t personal, just his way of living that she didn’t have the courage to disturb. If Beau asked him to stay, would he oblige and waste another day by her side? Would he leave his Eagles shirt hanging from her bathroom door knob again? 

“Okay.” She nods, making herself look back down at her laptop that’s perched on her lap, with an unfinished email drafted to Laswell waiting for her to press send. It was so unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but Beau was determined to make it seem like it meant the world to her at that moment. Anything to keep her from asking for more. 

“Okay.” He repeats the statement, standing and searching the room for where he’d discarded his jeans the night before. Boxers snug around his waist when Alex bends over to pick up the pants and throw them over his shoulder. His eyes never look back over at her, an air of disappointment plaguing her as Alex grabs the old t-shirt from the bathroom door knob. 

Somehow navigating hostage situations, convincing militant leaders to agree to terms, and diving headfirst into warzones is less intimidating than this. A feeling of anxiety knotting up her bowels as he hums to himself the song Beau had played in her car the night before. It shouldn’t be this serious, shouldn’t cause her to stumble and falter. But his easygoing laugh and infuriating charm have hooked onto her, the line pulling her into a place she hasn’t been in a long time. 

“Hey, why don’t I make some coffee for the road?” Beau finally offers, the words spilling out of her mouth quicker than she can stop. It’s said in a rush, often synonymous when having a crush. But she’d never tell him that, Alex didn’t need to know every part of it. 

“I thought you’d never offer.” The look he gives her is golden, etched inside of her mind like her favorite song. Suddenly she understands the envy and desperation of the California Gold Rush. 

[piratefalls]

a leverage quinn/eliot thing i'll never write that’s been sitting in my drafts for a literal year so i'm just yeeting it out into the void

okay so who the hell knows if this is in any way an original thought but i think it’s sort of accepted by fandom that quinn and eliot knew each other long before they fight in the first david job. so let’s run with that. maybe when they met eliot was fresh out of the service and trying to figure out what he was going to do with his life. private security would be the obvious choice, but he still needs the adrenaline, and a break from people giving him orders. so he becomes an independent contractor, a retrieval specialist, and on a job he runs into mr. quinn. same place, same time, but different targets, and they hit it off while digging through an old storage space. and they just keep running into each other, time and time again, and eliot gains a reputation for being the best while quinn is happy to remain in the shadows. being lesser known has its own set of benefits.

and then they hang out after a heist, and things happen, and they find themselves becoming more than friends. this goes on for the next year, maybe two, and then...then they work a job together. something they’ve never done before, for some reason. and it feels off from the beginning, but it's quinn, and eliot trusts him more than anyone in the world, so he pushes those concerns aside until he can’t. the job goes so wrong so fast, and eliot finds himself taken hostage, waking up in an old warehouse, bruised and bloody and so tired. all he has to do is survive, because quinn is coming, he just has to hang on until quinn finds him. quinn will always find him. and then quinn does find him, and he looks so guilty, so fucking sad, and it hits eliot like a kick to the stomach that he’s been sold out. eliot gets free somehow and they fight their way out, and at the end of it all, a trail of bodies behind them, they stand there and look at each other. quinn is devastated, trying to find the words, and eliot just... shakes his head and walks away. he never hears quinn quiet plea for him to wait.

in the interim eliot finds his way to moreau, the awful things he does to forget, never telling anyone why he will only work alone. after a while he realizes he either needs to get out or lose himself completely, so he gets out, spends some time with toby learning to cook, and eventually goes back to working solo. then he’s hired to do a job in LA, a one and done with a team of thieves, and he does it. what a massive miscalculation on his part, because he does not want to like these people. liking people means wanting to be around them, giving them power over you even if you don’t mean to, and he just won’t do that again. but he does. and he keeps coming back, and despite the fact that hardison never shuts up, and parker loves jumping off buildings in a way that makes him deeply concerned, and nate is a ticking time bomb, and sophie is as warm as she is a terrifyingly good liar, he finds himself building a home there, working with these four people, beating up bad guys because he's helping people.

and then sophie cons the team, and the betrayal hits twice as hard this time. but before he even finds that out, he sees a face he’s done his level best to never see again. he lets quinn beat him up a bit, lets him think he’s winning, because eliot knows quinn has always been one thing above everything else, and that’s cocky. and when eliot grunts “now that rib’s broken,” he doesn't tack on like my fucking heart the way he wants to. it’s been years, and it wouldn’t have the impact he wants it to. and then the team separates and he’s never felt so adrift in his life.

in the immediate aftermath, quinn tries to reach out, and eliot keeps changing numbers, because really quinn should have gotten the fucking hint after the first five unanswered calls. eventually eliot shoots him a text, saying that quinn needed to leave him alone, and that he would reach out when he wanted to. the calls stop after that.

three years later, eliot has to go hunting for quinn because he needs a favor. and all quinn wants in return (besides the money, of course) is for eliot to just let him explain. they can go back to not talking, but he wants eliot to know the truth.

and when the job is over, when dubenich and latimer have been dealt with and the bat cave has been deserted, quinn tells him what really happened that night. how eliot wound up in that warehouse, why the job went sideways. [there’s some kind of bribery/secret that he was just desperate enough to keep quiet that he’d sell eliot out] and the price was that quinn had to turn eliot over. he tried, tried so hard to think of a way to get them all out of it alive, and they were almost home free and everything went so wrong so fast and he couldn’t think fast enough. and then eliot walked away never knowing that had the right amount of pressure not been applied to the exact right spot, quinn never would have put eliot within 100 miles of that job because even though they never said it in so many words, quinn had loved him and he knows eliot loved him too.

and so eliot takes a few days to think while everyone else scatters to parts unknown but this time with the full understanding that they’ll all eventually be reunited. eliot thinks, and thinks, and eventually texts quinn and invites him out. they can start with a beer.

[fizzyxcustard]

Okay, hear me out. I just finished the last chapter and I don’t even know where to begin.

1. I can’t even describe how much I feel for Amy. Like, I understand why her parents want to keep her with them and safe and why Lucas is supporting that, but that just adds to her feeling of being powerless. She needs to get that control back, especially after something as traumatic as kidnapping and being held hostage, she needs to feel that she is in control, that she makes the decisions and that those around her trust that she knows what’s good for her. I know her parents’ and Lucas’ decision comes from a place of love but still.

2. I’m totally in love with Ros, she understands and knows. I’ve really really enjoyed her character throughout this series. I keep rooting for her and Amy to become good friends, I really like their dynamic, especially since it sometimes feel like Ros is the only one that’s on Amy’s side and supports her decisions. Love that!

3. I have questions about Lucas though. So he blames himself for what has happened to Amy twice now and is convinced that’s it all his fault etc. Does he think it’s his fault as in personally or his fault because of the MI-5? Now that a baby is in the picture, is he going to quit the MI-5? Because I don’t think we’ve seen him ( I might be wrong here) really questioning his job and giving it a serious consideration to quit. He’s quick to break things off with Amy in stead of quitting the job. Maybe he would be less inclined to constantly blame himself if he chose a different career, what do you think?

4. I also love the idea of Amy continuing to work there, only as an analyst. She’s proven that she has a keen eye and is very perceptive and sharp, and I think this role has further contributed to her growth and being more comfortable in her own skin and abilities. It seemed to me that she really enjoyed doing what she did, more so than at her previous job. I’m also eager to see how her relationship with Ros develops further.

Sorry if this is too long, you don’t have to respond to everything if you don’t want to. I was just left with lots of thoughts after reading everything 🌸

Honestly, love, don’t apologise at all for the length of this ask. I’m so grateful that you read Covert Eyes and have a lot to say about it. It’s amazing!

Lucas questioning his career choice is something that will be coming up in the future. It’s something I did think on, and may possibly bring up in a one shot that takes place after the main events of Covert Eyes. Lucas blames himself personally for things that happened to Amy due to his involvement with Sarah Caulfield.

I have the next chapter and some of the chapter after that drafted. I just didn’t post due to a lot of negative feelings around this fic. But Ros does become even more personally involved with Amy and the baby.

Ros was a character I disliked at first in the series, but grew to really like her. I’m actually quite a fan of Ruth from the series, but felt Ros’ character worked better in helping Amy develop her confidence.

Again, thank you so much for reading this fic and being such a supportive friend with it. ♥️♥️♥️♥️

[sparklezzzzzzsstuff]

🏛️CREEPYPASTAS AS GREEK MYTHOLOGY FIGURES💯

I’m not actually sure if someone has done this before but I was js having a brainrot and got this idea tbh, should this have stayed in the drafts? maybe💀, but I really wanna hear others thoughts and opinions on it cause AGHH. I eat up AU content so I thought I’d try making my own even if it’s flops. Most of this is up for interpretation cause I had WAYYY too many ideas/alternates for these.

Okay here we go yap time

(No no you can’t tell who’s my favorite….)

No warnings!!

Ben-HERMES 🪽

For Ben I was really thinking of someone leaning more on the playful/mischievous side cause i feel that’s a huge part of most people’s headcanons for him (including mine).

I thought who better than Hermes cause if ur a fan of EPIC (Circe saga specifically 🤓☝️) I felt that Jorge Rivera really protrayed Hermes with a playful/childish demeanor and even if was helping Odysseus he was like “yeah ur probs gonna die anyway bud” and it kinda resonates with Ben cause he’s just in it for shits n giggles tbh.

Being the god of messages I feel like Ben would have a lot of fun spreading misinformation around the mansion (or wherever if the mansions not ur thing 😔).

Also in a way I feel like it’s the same thing with his powers and tech savvy skills. I remember seeing a few people on here hc his job was security cams and stuff so he knows the shit you’re up to😰

Yk wether it’s sending emails under rando accounts or discord messages about his latest obsession he’s not afraid to SEND👏THAT👏MESSAGE👏

In general I feel like one could argue he’s unfiltered tbh

ALSO ALSO flying shoes = floating ghost 🤔

I feel Ben could definitely be capable of showing empathy/giving help to heroes in need and stuff but overall he’d just prefer to get into mischief and do things for his own benefit.

He brings a lot to the table! (that is if you can clear off the Pokémon cards and Zelda figurines)

For example, if there was a mansion in this au (the world they live in is up for interpretation cause I love the idea of Ancient Greece but I’m loyal to the cringe mansion I love dearly 😔)

Teleportation comes in handy for when slender decided to give out hand-written letters that come with Cheeto dust fingerprints(Ben swears they were there before) (they were guys dw bout it…)

Something else I’ve seen on here is that he’d float to make himself taller and i will take this to the grave idc if i die on this hill.

SUPPOSE they had outfits and he had to be pried off the hot topic isles and link getup. I genuinely do not think he’d fw the sandals im sorry 😔. He’d slap something else on and call it a day. Or maybe not tbh..he’d think they’re cool.

I feel like outside of this AU he’s a bit of a chatterbox so..IN this AU he’d probably use deliveries as a way to talk the ear off and bother hang with his friends and fellow Creepypastas.

Anyways, in summary Ben can impish and irresponsible but he’s a master of his craft and if there does end up being heroes to guide he wouldn’t hesitate to…interfere.

“You want to beat her? You’ll need the blessing of a certain god, divine intervention, someone who’s not afraid to..send a message”

Nina-CALYPSO🐚

Nina my beloved scene girl this one’s for you

First order of business shout out to @jeffthekillerzblog and his au about Ben, Jeff and Nina’s arcs I love them sm. The whole idea of her getting over Jeff and sort of becoming her own person without him is awesome and I can definitely see it in my au too.♥️♥️

I chose Calyspo because when met with Odysseus she was instantly head over heels, turning into a kind of obsession and yearning for company😔👏(yeah same)

I think Calypso’s whole idea of “I love you and I think I’ll die without it” resonates with what Nina used to be with Jeff and her need for his affection.

Although I don’t really think Nina would necessarily keep a partner as a hostage on an island I think she tends to feed into that kind of delusion of a healthy relationship when desperate for attention

In terms of style and aesthetics Calypso and Nina are pretty much opposite (Nina scene style I am loyal to you) however in this au I’d think she’d wear a lot of pink layered robes and fun jewelry. I like to keep style up for interpretation just cause it’s fun.

Ultimately Calypso does do the right thing and lets Odysseus go,(with pushing from Ben Hermes) I do think at heart Nina knows it isn’t right but she still longs for love.

It gets lonely on an island okay?🤨

“Tell me though, who’s Penelope?”

“She’s my wife…”

“…”

“Anyways! I’ve got all you could want here, all you could need here..just you and me my dear, my love for life!”

EJ-HADES🪦🥀

ALRIGHT. Here’s the thing, at first I wanted to choose Slenderman for this because it just felt right. However I wanted to choose Ej instead because I took into account the storyline with Persephone. (Also with Jeff and smile dogs friendship I was thinking him too cause smile dog could be his Cerberus ugh😔)

From my interpretation of others HCS and mine I definitely see Ej as a lone wolf so what better place to be dark and ominous than the underworld itself?

Dramatically staring out into a sea of souls while Chappell Roan , Radiohead plays in the background/j

I do think Ej would enjoy the isolation and in my hc he’d rather hide away from the others because of his demonic nature, and nobody there to pester him (besides Ben with his emails of course).

Anyway, going back onto the Persephone storyline because it was a dealbreaker between Slender and Ej.

I thought about which one would really want to seek love. In past HCS of slender I’ve seen that he is in fact capable of caring (if ur a fan of the mansion and believing he collects traumatized children like Pokémon or infinity stones) .

So, let’s say Slender is actually capable of caring, would he really wanna go seek love? I kinda see him as a single dad but I’ve debated it tbh. For now I’m just going with single dad who’s not interested in romance but rather power.

So that left me with Ej, I think Ej still has some human in him. Whatever was left behind after his transformation/sacrifice made him yearn for company even being ruler of death. (He’s got Cerberus aka smile dog 🤷‍♀️maybe a couple skeletons idk)

Anywho if he did happen to stumble upon Persephone, rather than kidnapping her pissing her mom off I think he’d be too scared to approach her 😭

In the sense that he wouldn’t want to scare her with his appearance even with the mask.

Maybe his Persephone is a kidney? Who knows 😔

“If I became the monster and threw that guilt away would that make us stronger?”

JANE-ATHENA🦉📖

I’ve been waiting for this I’m about to go crazy

Athena, warrior and goddess of wisdom, not to mention hella creative.

I feel like this matches with Jane’s sense of responsibility and maturity. In my hc Jane is a STROOOONG WOMAN😍😍🤤. I also saw someone on here saw she does poetry and I couldn’t agree more

Athena,who has no husband—oh look at that Jane doesn’t either she’s happily married to Mary(idc if Athena doesn’t marry. THIS one did.)

Aura if I’ve ever seen it

COOL WEAPONS COOL WEAPONS and armor tbh. Feminine robes and the usual Athena getup.

If you’ve listened to God Games then I don’t need to speak any further on how driven she is too succeed, “bring it” attitude.

I think it’s nice how Athena and Ares rivalry can be intertwined with Jane and Jeff’s backstory, despite Jane having coming to terms with it she still has sought vengeance.

Much like Athena in the Arachne story tbh

Independent fr fr, def wants to protect her wife from any other gods but also doesn’t worry about anyone messing with her.

I see her as a really good leader tbh

Wise tree af, knows you better than you know yourself and WILL use it against you if you piss her off.

Outsmarts people for breakfast.

In terms of Odysseus I think she’d def get annoyed with him but because shes got more important things to worry about she sticks with him.

“Goddess of wisdom, master of war, my life has one mission…create the greatest warrior.”

Jeff-ARES

Alright. God of war you know where this is going. Major anger issues but he’s sm more than that guys trust pls it’s just for the plot guys pls come back where are you going—

Angry ANGRY guy that’s why I chose him

Also I get major fire nation zuko vibes from him..NOT just cause he was burned I swear on my life

Anyway, if you’re lucky enough to not die and finally see past the blood thirst you’d see a whooooole lot of angsty regrets and if you peel it back a little more he’s bi

Fighting the demons daily

All those battles go straight to the head and probably boost his ego (FAKE FAKE FAKE) to no end.

I interpret ares as arrogant, brutal, and egocentric but I think a good arc for Jeff would to be to try and change that (maybe even heal some burned bridges with Jane, and his brother, who knows??)

He’s trying I swear

Ben def hangs with him and try’s to make him turn a new leaf and leave his asshole ways. (Even if he isn’t the best influence)

Quite literally insane idk what to tell you

Still love him though he’s a new guy I swear ignore the blood on him that’s normal you’re crazy.

“What kind of sick coward holds back his power while his friends get devoured? He didn’t even fight Scylla…didn’t even try to kill her.!”

Aaaaaand the crowd goes wild. Unfortunately those are all the characters I have inspo for rn but I hope more will come to me!! Also I wish I could have found a better quote for Jeff but oh well. All of these quotes are from EPIC/god games by Jorge Rivera-Herrans!! :). Honestly kind of scary to think of a mansion in this au it wouldn’t last 8 seconds. Would Ej technically live in the basement?? I’d love to hear others thoughts on this cause why not just add ☝️

Happy summer ya’ll☀️☀️☀️

[scarlett-vixen]

Y’all wanna hear my Wild wacky reason for being MIA for so long?

I’m putting it under a cut so I don’t clog up anything ✨

Sooooo last fall I met a (real human) person (let’s call them Sanji because they’re literally so similar akdjsn) things went well with that but I was busy doing relationship things to write, then over the summer o tried getting back into writing….then my mom had a huge car accident, then this past fall my uncle ended up in the hospital then I went through ✨trauma✨ in October, Sanji is leaving to go to school at the end of this month (I am S T R E S S E D) so I wanted to get back into writing but NOWWWWW Microsoft word has locked me out of all my files😤😤

Do not fret I have all my current WIPS saved in drafts here, I did lose a good paragraph of Shattered though🥲 I went to try and fix my Word problem AND NOW MY LAPTOP IS ACTING UP😭😭😭

Long story short I’m T R Y I N G but the universe keeps needing me🥲 so if you see me lurking and wonder where my stories are…they’re locked on my laptop

TLDR; my laptop said fuck you and is holding all my demon fics hostage

[chimerickat]

Got a random question related to writing for you. The status updates for 'You can't go back' have me curious. How do you approach the uploading of your stories?

For example, are you someone who only posts after they finish the following chapter? (Chapter 1 posted after chapter 2 is finished)

Just curious about the approach.

Ok so I have absolutely zero restraint. Normally I finish something and I get really excited to share it and post the moment it’s done.

Anyway obviously I’m doing something a little different with You Can’t Go Back because I think chapter 2 is on the final read through stage.

So this year I’m trying to write 500 words every day. I don’t always hit the target and sometimes I shoot past the target. I’ve been mostly working on my new fic with the target because it’s easy to do (if I’m stuck on the main plot, I write a little bit about the way the reader and Kaiba got together for my words) and I’ve gotten wrapped up in writing it.

I was holding it hostage (against myself) until I posted the last chapter of Best Intentions. But I’m really bad at writing in a vacuum and decided I’m stupid for trying to do that. Anyway I had two completed chapters and three was close (I thought, three is a nightmare). At the rate of a completed rough draft every 8-10 days, I should be able to keep up an update every 2 weeks for a little while.

So the tl;dr is that I absolutely post that chapter the moment I finish it normally but I’m trying to be a little more habitual in my writing this year and You Can’t Go Back is going to be my way of trying to update on a schedule. I’ll post chapter 2 next Friday and chapter 3 two weeks later.

It’s been kind of nice because I think the chapters are going out more refined. I’m able to circle back and edit things in or out as I work on the chapter following it.

Also I get to end chapters on a cliffhanger or sad note and not feel bad because I’ll be updating again soon for once.

[definitelynotsipandshare]

It’s valid to feel let down that you spent time and money on someone who excuses such behavior.

Doja Cat has so many controversies to her name it’s ridiculous. She hosted a party with P Diddy, she wore a Sam Hyde tshirt, then when called out just cropped it slightly and reuploaded it, when women came forward with allegations about her ex, she attacked them, she attacked her own fans, she bullies people online, she engaged in race play and stripped for incels. It’s very clear which side of the political scale she is on.

I don’t want to hear the excuse that she is a ‘troll’ because that’s invalid. It always starts with the excuse of ‘trolling’. Is Nick Fuentes just a troll? Where do we draw the line? 

Joe posting about Kamala was purely his teams side of trying to keep him popular amongst his fans, when his actions of excusing such behavior by being in the company of Doja say otherwise. The company you keep is a huge reflection on you as a person. He didn’t even post about elections in his own country. He is obviously right wing leaning and doesn’t have progressive views about sexual assault, women or racism or is indifferent to it, I’m not sure whats worse. 

The man portrayed to us 2 years ago is a very different man before us today. He shows constant distaste for Eddie and Stranger Things, he cancels cons last minute only to be photographed wandering the streets of London, he talks about liking his privacy but engaged in staged paparazzi photos both on his own and with Doja. He’s rude to his fans, but they still show up at cons to spend money on him which is weird to me. If he dislikes his stranger things fans, how will he cope with Marvel fans? 

It feels like we’ve been duped into supporting someone who I would never have spent time, effort or money on having known his views. You cannot date someone and not agree with them politically and morally - that isn’t opinion, it’s a fact. 

He said she’s really funny, is it funny when she attacks women? Spoke about fucking a school shooter? Made homophobic or racist remarks? Stripped for incels? Attacked her own fanbase? I’m trying to find where the funny is here. 

He spoke about taking Olivia Colemans advice, not losing himself and setting down good roots but his actions show the complete opposite. He came across as grounded and someone more interested in the craft than the celebrity which he’s now shown is a lie. 

We’re now going to be subjected to constant paparazzi photos, whereas actors like Josh O Connor manage to actually maintain their private life because he genuinely wants too. Everything to do with his name is now linked to Doja. Even gladiator is now linked back to her. It’s crazy. This will stay with him forever, his own premiere being overshadowed is madness. 

It’s valid to feel let down by someone, I don’t care that he’s dating, I really don’t. If it had been someone like Lupita who is amazing and does so much work for organizations and causes I would’ve been so happy for him. It’s more the true colors showing that is upsetting. 

The amount of people that have left his fandom is an indicator given such low engagement and discussions about his red carpet presence, and his loss of millions on social media.

Oh and he 100% is the Joe Quinn that signed that letter demanding release of hostages. He took part in the fundraiser to save face because Luna asked him. Don’t be so naive.

is this a draft that you send all the blogs or did you write all of it with the stream of consciousness?

[satashiiwrites]

snippet sunday

i’m not going to make posting this by midnight so it’ll be yeeted probably sometime the first week of 2024. Got held hostage by the family for family time and didn’t have time to write the 4K to finish out this chapter….

Tagged by @rosieposiepuddingnpie for a snippet sunday, so have some unfiltered, unbeta’d, Grammarly untouched sentences. Tagging with no pressure: @tkwritesdumbassassins @outtoshatter @elisela @whimsyswastry @missanniewhimsy @westernlarch @quietborderline @monsterrae1 and anyone else who wants to participate!

Snippet Sunday banner by radio chatter.

From: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana, Chapter 12: Operation Rescue, Buck POV

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, platonic Hondo/Deacon (although I’ve decided they are going to get their own sequel piece and Annie is going to baby trap Hondo from the grave)

Tags/warnings: NavySeal!Buck, angst. Post tsunami/divorce era. First draft territory warnings.

Outwardly, Buck is calm under the plain black ball cap he’s wearing to hide his blonde hair, a pair of tactical glasses hiding his anxious eyes.  He’s strapped for the apocalypse as is Steve, Danny and Chin.  The heavy, immovable weight of the bullet proof vest is tight around his torso even though the straps have some elasticity to allow him to breathe, the mic at his throat a persistent reminder every time he swallows spit and the hiss of a comm in his ear as Chin checks that they’re online. 

Both of his thighs are wrapped with holsters, a 9mm on the right, a string of extra ammunition clips on the left. Buck’s got fistful of flash bangs, a half dozen grenades and ammo clips in every pocket and then some, ready to start a war if needed, or rescue one stubborn Texan who managed to get nabbed in broad daylight in the middle of LA instead of halfway around the world. 

Buck’s HK416 hangs across his chest from it’s strap, an old and comforting friend in situations like these and a k-Bar snug in its sheath at his back, ready to silence any sentry he comes across. They’ve already discussed ROE but Buck doesn’t care.  He’s got one goal and he has pretty brown eyes, a beauty mark on one cheek and a tattoo on his arm that reminds him to keep going.

Fortalecer la mente y superar el cuerpo. 

Rubbing his face, he takes the proffered water bottle when Danny hands him one.  Based on the limited intel, they’ve narrowed down where Wo Fat might be holding Eddie and Kono.  It can’t be in any of the more populated areas as something would have been noticed so they know they’ll be going away from the shoreline.  The North Shore actually encompasses most of northern Oahu. There’s a lot of dense forest and even farms up here with only one resort, Turtle Bay. 

Somehow, Buck doubts Eddie’s being kept captive on a golf course but there’s a first time for everything. 

Eddie doesn’t even like golf.  He’s complained on more than one occasion that it’s like watching paint dry to watch and the only point of playing is going to the clubhouse for overpriced beers afterwards. Buck knows most of this is from the one summer that Eddie’s mom made him get a job at the local country club as a caddy instead of playing baseball like he had the summer before.  The lack of baseball playing had turned Eddie against golf and lugging around heavy bags had increased the aversion along with the paltry tips and wandering hands of the cougars who’d seen Eddie’s fresh-faced teenage self as fresh meat. 

Buck knows all about country clubs.  He’s worked at them too and doesn’t blame Eddie for his aversion. Too much old money hiding bad habits and terrible treatment of anyone not born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Buck’s parents belonged to the local one in Hershey which was telling in and of itself. 

They’re all idle, waiting on a phone call.  Raissa—Sang Min’s ex-wife—had given Danny an unlabeled map for them to plan with but she hadn’t given them coordinates or an address.  That would come from Sang Min. 

So they wait. 

All dressed up, and ready to party as Freddie would have said. Just waiting on their dance partner. 

“We look like walking Guns & Ammo advertisements,” Danny says, breaking the silence. 

“Nah,” Steve replies, tone bland as he adjusts his thigh holsters so they’re not riding up into his groin.  “We don’t have nearly enough grenades.”

“We don’t need any grenades,” Danny argues.  “I’ve got half of your favorite army surplus store hanging off me.”

“It’s a good look on you,” Buck teases as Steve automatically argues, “We’re Navy, Danno.”

“Don’t Danno me,” Danny grumbles as they all freeze at the sound of Danny’s phone buzzing in his pocket from a received message. 

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Ok. Now I gotta get the director’s cut on your fic “12 Hours”

Was it a result of another sudden hyper focus? Or were you planning it and letting it marinate in your brain awhile?

12 hours

Ah yes, thank you for asking!

It’s funny you ask that specifically because it’s kind of— both? I initially only wrote the last 2 hours and the style was very different than what ended up in the final draft. Either way, at some point after writing the first 2; my brain was like “Hey! How about we write ALL TWELVE HOURS LIKE THE TITLE SAYS! WON’T THAT BE FUN!?” And I cried because yes, it would be fun but it would also take wayyyy more time to finish. Alas, at some point I wrote the first six hours before getting stuck on the break. So at that point, it had been marinating for a while. And then Flash day rolls around and I really wanted to post something for it— wrote the entire break and then some, also editing parts of the last two hours. I wrote it from 12-4 am and did not sleep that night. But it was worth it because I posted something for Flash day. So now that that’s been answered— onto the commentary!

I wrote this entire fic in my notes app, there’s an outline in my docs somewhere but it really wasn’t followed at all.

The hour by hour format was my genius way to simultaneously get into Barry’s current headspace AND gave me a set amount of writing needed for each one which was extremely helpful.

His kidnapper had attached each of his wrists to the front bar of a cosmic treadmill and given him one command in a monstrous voice: “Run.”

Some background: in this universe, instead of training and motivating Barry to get faster, Zoom decides the most efficient way is to make him run all day every day. This concept is somewhat adapted from my age old idea of season 1 Thawne putting Barry in a hamster wheel and just forcing him to get faster whether he wants to or not. Obviously the hamster wheel, while funny, isn’t really the right vibe but the premise is similar.

And it’s never mentioned in the fic; but he is getting faster. Zoom’s plan is working and Barry may as well be a dead man running because once Zoom gets what he needs from him; there’ll be no need to keep him alive this time around.

Originally, Jesse and Jay weren’t going to be there because there was no reason for it. Both narratively and in-universe but both of those changed in a way. Narratively, it’s fun to play with Barry’s guilt and self sacrificing tendencies. In-universe, it’s just one more way to keep him trapped. He’s not going to run away if he knows innocent people would be hurt because of it.

But even when this weak and close to powerless, he could still protect them. No matter how exhausted he was, something inside Barry gave him the courage and energy —anytime Zoom made so much as a move toward the other two— to direct their captor’s attention to him. It always left him worse off, bruises and sometimes cuts littering his body. It didn’t matter, he could heal even if it still hurt. Always better me than them.

I’ll admit. This was, in part, my whump gremlin ass hijacking a little bit. BUT it’s those self sacrificing tendencies I mentioned. It’s honestly a huge part of his character so I’m very glad I put it in. Also, that innate need to protect people which is arguably the most prominent trait of his character. Ah poor Barry.

A wave of weakness came over him as the dampeners took effect. It slowed him down just enough to prevent phasing.

Although hostages are an excellent way for Zoom to keep Barry trapped; he’s not stupid enough to just leave him to his running. I knew I needed something that could both prevent his escape and keep him at the treadmill— while allowing him his speed. Lightbulb moment as I remembered the cuffs Thawne used in 1x17 that appeared to do exactly that.

02:59:00

Help me.

02:55:59

Please. Someone come find me, please—

02:54:59

I have to keep going. I can’t. I don’t have a choice.

This was a fun little tidbit I decided to add in to emphasize that Barry is really Not Ok right now. These kind of thoughts happen extremely often and are similar in wording each time. He’s tired, he’s done, he’s been waiting on a rescue for who-knows how long and has pretty much lost hope on that miracle. He’s not quite accepted his fate but that makes the lack of choice so much worse.

Get up or he’ll hurt them. Legs shaking so violently, he got to both feet, began to run, and caught up with the treadmill.

Another very intentional choice. Not sure if it’s canon that did it or maybe it was another fanfiction not sure (or hell— maybe I’m projecting. Who knows)— but I love making Barry’s main motivation protecting others. Perhaps it’s the general lack of self preservation he seems to have. Sparing himself of more pain wasn’t enough, his companions would pay for it if Zoom caught him not running (it happened before and that was the one time he couldn’t protect them. Well, Jesse in this case.) and that’s what he needed to keep going.

There was one last rule. If he stopped on the first run, he wasn’t allowed to feed himself. If he stopped on the second run, as he just had— Zoom would leave him cuffed overnight, and Barry had to sleep like this.

Just some more comfortability motivation for him to keep running because Zoom’s a dick and so am I

With that reminder, he released a dry sob between pants, with energy he most certainly didn’t possess. Sobbed because he’d been here for so long, and he was so tired, and he just wanted to go home.

Crying would have been a waste of energy before now, Barry doesn’t let himself do it until the 12 hours is up.

The penny landed on heads for unhappy ending sorry (jk, it was just the vibe)

Last thing I’ll leave you with is I was this 🤏 close to adding a rescue. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about writing another chapter with just that…

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

[pearlsinmyhair]

Hi! I'm curious, when's the next chapter of BoV?

i’m going to be working on it through this week, so definitely by friday. school started two weeks ago, and i worked pretty much all week last week, so i haven’t been in the right mentality for it. but definitely by friday. i have a few bonus things in the works as well, but the next chapter is planned out completely. i just have to actually write it fully.

some little snacks:

the next chapter is entitled golden hour and will include a conversation, a confrontation, and a breach of understanding.

the chapter after that, catch me if you can, will reintroduce a character already touched on, and we’ll make contact with the tawkami. the recoms get a taste of their own medicine when they’re taken hostage.

here’s a quaritch ptsd dream from golden hour for you to keep you fed~ keep in mind that these are first draft and unedited.

[dangerdangerhighvoltage]

Value (MC x Nezu Jinpachi x Sanada Nobuyuki)

a little bit of jinpachi’s main route, a little bit of nobuyuki’s main route. when nobuyuki unceremoniously calls off his wedding to mc/mei, long-buried feelings and memories between her and a certain silent and stoic ninja come a-rushin’ back. 

hoping it isn’t too convoluted but also sick of hitting ‘save as draft’ on this. nsfw!

“What?”

The last time Jinpachi saw Mei in this state—her breath trapped in the hollow of her throat and her chest constricted—she had just finished wrapping her bindings around her breasts, to conceal her womanhood. That was nearly a year ago at Yashiro Castle, back when they were both pretending to be other people. Back when he thought for a brief moment that he might have her to himself. Back before Nobuyuki even knew she existed. 

How things had changed, Jinpachi thought bitterly as he found himself at his lord’s side in Mei’s chambers. 

Tonight, it wasn’t cloth that forced the wind out of Mei’s chest, but the startling declaration Lord Nobuyuki had just unloaded on her, one that even blindsided Jinpachi: after a brief engagement, Nobuyuki was calling off his wedding to Mei. 

“But Milord,” Mei began shakily in a state of shock. “You and I are to be married in a week. The festivities have practically begun.” She looked down at the extremely ornate robe she wore. 

“That’s precisely why I’m informing you now,” Nobuyuki proffered, that honeyed tone that had wooed Mei in the first place still seeping forth like sap, only now, its ensnaring stickiness outweighed the sweetness. “Notifying you after our wedding would be quite the logistical predicament, wouldn’t it?” he noted, wearing his signature boyish smile. 

“I don’t... I don’t understand,” Mei said, her legs feeling weak. The news hit her like a wave; his jarringly upbeat tone was rip tide, dragging her from herself. 

“There’s not too much to understand, darling,” Nobuyuki shrugged. 

"Have I wronged you?” 

“Of course not.”

"Have I not done everything you asked of me?” she asked, her voice wavering between confusion and rage. He looked at her curiously. Nobuyuki had never seen Mei so close to losing her composure, and it made her suddenly, briefly, interesting. 

“You have.” 

“Was I not a faithful hostage with the Shirai?”

“You performed beautifully and exceeded my own expectations.”

“Then what changed?”

“Nothing at all, I suppose,” he said simply. 

There it was. Nobuyuki needed someone valuable enough to send as a hostage, but the cunning lord didn’t want to risk sending anyone of actual value. Mei knew their betrothal was one of convenience, temporary custody of the Sanada’s worth, but she was struggling to fathom just how disposable she was. Despite gaining the admiration of his retainers and people, despite offering her life to secure the ill-fated Shirai alliance, despite Nobuyuki’s own veneration towards her, and despite consummating the marriage ahead of the wedding on more than a few occasions, he didn’t actually give a damn about her. 

The future Mei imagined dissipated in front of her eyes, while Jinpachi, silently stunned by this new level of his Lord’s manipulations, dwelled on the past. When Yashiro Castle fell, he arranged for Mei to be sent to Ueda so he could keep an eye on her. So he could take his time with her. He’d never met anyone like Mei. She was the only person who understood what sacrifice really meant but managed to not be so burdened by it. It was a resilient lightness she somehow imparted into the smiles she gave him in passing, into a lingering tenderness when she dressed his wounds, into the spotted daifuku she made for him in secret. She was instantly as indispensable as air to him—and soon, to others. 

When she arrived in Ueda, she instantly lit up the castle. The two of them picked up right where they left off with shy gazes and long walks at odd hours, when he wasn’t accompanying Lord Nobuyuki. But before he could figure out how to make good on what was blossoming between them, she caught the eye of Nobuyuki who knew an opportunity when he saw one. 

The young lord was looking to ensure an alliance with the Shirai while staving off a barrage of annoying marriage proposals. The conveniently unattached and blindly dutiful castle maid gave him a solution to both issues. Under the unwavering watch of Jinpachi, Nobuyuki invited her on long meandering strolls about town, assailed her with the finest clothing and flattery and finally, after she graciously sidestepped his initial attempts at courtship, a categorical guarantee to keep her family in the city safe. 

The security and comfort that Nobuyuki offered was not the same as what Jinpachi had already provided Mei, but what choice did she have? It’s not as if the ninja had begged her to reconsider, let alone admitted that maybe there was something more to them than smiles and dessert. It was torment for Jinpachi to be the one to fetch her when Nobuyuki called for her, but what choice did he have?

For months after Nobuyuki’s proposal, amidst endless lessons in poetry and tea service and the kind of coy chicanery that only court ladies could teach, Mei offered Jinpachi apologetic glances whenever they passed one another in the halls. But Jinpachi said nothing. Instead, he grew cold toward her, the quiet thoughtfulness she cherished becoming a dense, impenetrable solitude, until one day her eyes no longer searched for his. 

“But Milord,” Mei stammered, her eyes now fruitlessly searching Nobuyuki’s face for a modicum of remorse. 

“What about the silks, the feasts, the gifts you gave me?” she asked.

“You may keep those, all of it, of course,” Nobuyuki said generously.

“No, you insuffera—!” She gathered herself. Mei held her hands to her temples so tightly Jinpachi pondered if she was trying to keep her head from falling clean off her neck. “No. Was it real? Did you mean it? Did any of this mean anything to you?”

Their Lord had no need to gather himself. He was perennially gathered.

“Mei, because of you, the people of Ueda will know peace for some time to come and there is no greater meaning than that.”

It became clear to Mei that she would never receive the explanation she desperately desired. The man she was supposed to marry traded in illusion and proximities to power; the future he promised her, apparently some kind of joke.

“I knew you to be strange at times but never expected you to be so two-faced,” she said, hoping her words would cut him as deeply as he had cut her. They didn’t. He forged onward.

“Now I will speak to Father and we will see to it that our separation will not impact your reputation. You are young and beautiful and presumably fertile, so please trust you will still be able to find a more than suitable mate.” 

He turned around to leave her room. Mei was enraged with Nobuyuki’s flippancy, but moreso with herself for being so stupid as to think she could actually marry the heir to the clan. For believing him when he told her she would. 

“Am I so worthless?” she cried out, wincing at the pathetic sound of her own voice. 

He stopped in his tracks, sighed, turning slightly with a sidelong glance to her.

“You are invaluable, Mei. You simply no longer have value to me. Now, Jinpachi will help pack your belongings so you may return home within the week.” 

With a quick turn on his heel, and the snap of the shoji door shutting, he was gone and her world was utterly shattered. She stood in silence like the gaping maw of a crater moments after impact. Jinpachi didn’t move a muscle, disturbed by her lack of tears.

She yanked herself out of thought with an exhale and swallowed once more. She then looked at him, with a crestfallen smirk. Of course Jinpachi was there, she mused. Witnessing her humiliation. Why not? He was always there, wasn’t he. From the start. Even when she chose his Lord over him, he remained steadfast.

“He’s serious,” she queried, hollowly.

He nodded, not even looking in her direction.

With a resigned scoff, she stormed to the corner of her chamber and flung open a large lacquered trunk with a newfound, frenzied energy. He watched her rummage through its contents, tossing aside expensive robes and rouge pots until she found what she was looking for. She looked at him, holding up a modest jug of sake. He heaved a sigh. 

She insisted he sit right beside her on the trunk like old friends as she chipped away at the drink by herself, taking graceful sips straight from the jug. The decorum of her suddenly former life still lingered.

“How did this happen?” she asked. He said nothing. “What just happened?” she asked again. He breathed slow and deep, steeling himself. He was still processing for himself. He knew their union wasn’t for love but was equally gobsmacked by Nobuyuki’s decision. Surely he wouldn’t actually toss her back to Kyoto like nothing happened? Jinpachi couldn’t fathom a world without Mei even if he’d long lost the right to know her the way he wanted to. How would he recover from her departure? How long would it take for him to revert back to the miserable shadow he was before she came along? 

All these thoughts overran his mind in a violent torrent, on the verge of spilling over while she sat pretty beside him sipping her sake, completely unaware. Jinpachi figured he just had to make it one more week without completely falling apart, to see her off. But now that he thought about it, a week was a long time. He just had to make it to his room that night. Really, he just had to make it to the end of that jug of sake and he’d be safe.

“In a way,” she started slowly with a forlorn smile. “You did this to me.”

“My lady?” he coughed, the end of the jug now seeming much farther away.

“Don’t call me that” she scoffed, facing him. “I’m no one’s Lady.” 

He looked to his hands. 

“I came here because of you,” she began, looking for any reaction in his face. “Why did you bring me here?” 

He remained silent, but his heart lurched in his chest and his face felt hot. He took the jug from her hands and took a drink to tamp back down whatever truth was trying to worm its way out of him.

He brought her to Ueda because he loved her. It was a small, rare, selfish indulgence that was immediately punished when Nobuyuki started making designs on her. Jinpachi tried to convince himself that the greatest testament of his love for Mei would be to give her a life she deserved with a man without a heart to be sure, but who would never leave her wanting. Of course the truth was, Jinpachi was too much of a coward to jeopardize the singular entitlement of his lord’s desires. 

“If you had said something then, I would not have gone to him,” Mei admitted, as if knowing exactly what he couldn’t bear to hear. Still, he said nothing which she found aggravating. 

“You just let him take me away,” she jabbed recklessly.

“As I recall, you went willingly,” he parried uncharacteristically. They both looked at the jug in his hands as if the sake itself had said the words. 

“Now you’re talkative!” she quipped morbidly, taking the bottle and drinking from it. 

They shared a desolate look before Jinpachi took the jug back from her small hands. The point was moot. She watched him take a long swig, studying his profile. He was the only unconditional person she had met since leaving home, and not a day went by that she didn’t doubt her decision to be with Nobuyuki before resolutely reminding herself it was all to protect her family. 

She watched Jinpachi’s Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed the alcohol and wondered what on earth he was drinking so much over. She was the one whose life had been ruined. This time next week, she’d be back in Kyoto heartbroken and disgraced. Everything in Ueda would return to normal like nothing happened and Jinpachi could go back to giving a castle wall a run for its money or whatever he did. So what pain was he trying to dull? It suddenly dawned on her. 

“You feel guilty,” she proclaimed curiously.

He shot her a hazardous look she had never seen before. The kind of look that compelled her to keep chipping away at him even as it told her to stop. She got up, standing directly in front of him, so he’d have no choice but to face her. “You knew all along,” she said with a compassionate bitterness. “You knew he would do this, that he just needed a hostage, that our marriage was all a lie. You knew everything and you handed me over to—.” 

“Not everything,” he nearly whispered, his head dropped fully as he set the jug down. "I didn’t know it would come to this.” His eyes rose to hers. “I have only ever wanted to protect you, Mei. I thought he did too.”

She put her hand to his cheek, the realization still washing over her. She peered over his raven hair, the vein that divided his strong brow when he was overwhelmed, the way his vast shoulders rose and fell as he sighed.

“I forgive you, Jinpachi,” she declared finally.

“What?” He looked up at her, bewildered.

“It must have been hard for you, to love me and to serve him. You deserve forgiveness.”

He took her hand off his face, annoyed at what he believed to be unctuousness. “No, I don’t.”

“You deserve to forgive yourself,” she shrugged. 

He was getting angry, though he didn’t know why. Something about her emancipated way of speaking got under his skin. She knew her place. Nobuyuki had certainly just reminded her of it. Why would she not just stay down like him?

“Who am I to forgive? I live only for Lord Nobuyuki. I owe him my life—”

"Oh stop it,” she blurted out. “I’ve seen you lift an oxcart! Are you so weak and pitiful that you must hide behind that poor excuse of a man for everything? ”  

She had him cornered and he thought of what a dog might do in the same situation. 

“He doesn’t own you,” she prodded. “Take responsibility for yourself, Jinpachi.” 

He suddenly stood up and roughly grabbed her by the shoulders, looming over her.

“And what do you want me to say, Mei?” he demanded. “That I didn’t know? That I tried to stop him from dragging you into this inane plot of his? That I begged him? Anyone but you?”

By now he was nearly shouting. She had never heard him raise his voice, but she liked it. She swallowed her smile at his inadvertent confession as he continued.

“I didn’t! I didn’t do a damn thing, so what forgiveness is there? I didn’t fight for you. Not even once.” 

“Fight for me now, Jinpachi.” 

“What?” There was that hazardous look again.

“Fight for me.” 

His brow helplessly furrowed, he pulled her to him and kissed her hard. He felt the surprise jolt through her. He felt it in her shoulders, which he was still squeezing. He felt it in her lips as she gasped. He pulled back, holding her at arms length again. He gazed at her questioningly, worried that he completely misinterpreted her words. Before he could really ponder if she meant for him to physically start a fight with Nobuyuki on her behalf, Mei pulled him down to kiss him again. 

Jinpachi had always seemed larger than life, an embodiment of silence itself, still and protective. But now, as Mei took his soft lips and trailed his muscled shoulders, she was tickled by the confirmation that he really was just a man. She felt his anguish in his kiss, his relief. She couldn’t tell if the sharp but smooth sweetness she tasted was the sake or him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in until her head was practically tilted all the way back just to reach his lips. His hands soon became as hungry as his lips, roaming the slope of her back, the softness of her sides, the curve of her ass. 

Mei began to fiddle with her obi searching for some purchase amidst the array of particularly intricate knots. After all, it took two hours and three court ladies to dress her that day, a dry run of sorts for her new life. “Get this off of me,” she frustratedly muttered into Jinpachi’s lips as she desperately pulled at the ties. In a frenzied attempt to help, Jinpachi grabbed a fistful of her robe by her shoulder. As he yanked it down recklessly, he tore multiple layers of the very expensive silk, exposing Mei’s shoulder and one of her breasts. 

Mei let out a brazen, joyous cackle that Jinpachi hadn’t heard since she accepted Nobuyuki’s proposal. Without missing a beat, he closed his lips over the peak of her breast and she let out a moan. She ran her fingers through his hair as his tongue swirled around her nipple. He dragged his teeth up her breast and to her neck before he parted from her again. 

He got on his knees and took the hem of her robes into his hands, studying it closely. She watched him with curiosity while her fingers ran listlessly through his hair. She was unaware that it was he who had chosen the robe for her in the first place as Nobuyuki couldn’t be bothered with such a trite decision. It was Jinpachi’s secret little thrill, watching his Lord’s would-be bride walk around in the robes he had chosen for her. 

He looked back up at her with a small smile. His eyes did not leave hers as he jerked apart the layers of gleaming cloth, surely worth more than years of his service, ripping the material perfectly up the center between her legs, before parting them like curtains, and reaching in to caress her legs. She leaned against him as he trailed his mouth up her thighs to the apex of her legs. He stroked her there, using his large thumb to spread her already dewy folds. He looked up just in time to watch her close her eyes, and put his mouth to her core, once again feeling her jolt from his touch. 

“Ahh!” She hissed. He lathered her slit with his tongue causing her to let out a small, deep noise. He probed his tongue into her and ran it back up to her sensitive nub. He pressed two fingers into her as he kissed at her, excited by how her walls grasped his fingers when he curled them. She couldn’t help but push her hips against him and found an even deeper euphoria when she felt his brilliant lips smile against her. Her breaths became quick, and a wispy whine emanated from her lips like smoke, waning then blossoming. He dug his fingers into her ass holding her steady as he fucked her with his tongue. She came with a cry, her legs weak. She put her arm on his shoulder for support, barely noticing how frantically he was undoing his own robes. With a quick peck to her wrist, he stood up, his exposed body towering over her and his manhood at the ready. She reached for it, and as her fingers grazed it, he shuddered. She stepped toward him and kissed his chest as she ran her fingers up the long, slightly curved underside of him. Her touch felt so good that he wondered if this was part of her tutelage under those damned court ladies. It didn’t cross his mind that she had dreamed of this moment herself.

“I need you Jinpachi,” she whispered into his chest, feeling his length somehow become even harder. He grabbed her chin, pulling her in for a kiss. Her other arm curled around his neck and he lifted her up, her legs straddling his thick torso. She took hold of him and lined him up to her entrance. He nearly lost it at the sensation of her heat and wetness against the tip of him, readily drawing him in. He looked at her questioningly and she nodded, unable to bear the sensation of him so close to her core. He finally pushed in, and she gasped as he filled her. The sensation of him, the pressure, the pain, the heat was unlike anything she’d felt before.

“Are you alright?” he asked. She nodded vigorously, her mouth still agape. “Breathe,” he instructed her. He was aware she and Nobuyuki had been intimate. He was also aware his own talent surpassed Nobuyuki’s in this particular pursuit. As he felt her relax, he slowly glided out and returned to her, and she let out a sigh, already teetering on the precipice of rapture. “Fuck,” he muttered. She smiled at the realization that she’d never heard the man curse before.

His hands roamed her body, supporting her back with one, and clutching onto the meat of her soft hips under the torn robes with the other, his thumb finding solace in the supple crease of her thigh. 

He slid out and back in, his cock knocking on a part of her she’d never felt before. He started thrusting faster and the cry she let out cracked through the room like lightning. She cursed back at him, truly frustrated by the pleasure and he smirked back at her. If only she had seen this look on his face before Nobuyuki asked for her hand in marriage.

“Will you say it?” she managed to spit out as his thrusting ramped up even more. Her eyes implored him. “You know what I want to hear.” 

He was never one for words, typically preferring to act rather than speak. He was practically bouncing her on his length at this point, squeezing her and caressing her tenderly, hoping she would get the point. He brought his forehead to hers, slowing down. Her eyes met his, and in between pants, she uttered, “Get on the floor.”

He lowered them to the ground, slipping out of her. She pushed him on to his back with such strength, he wondered if she’d changed her mind about him altogether. He laid back, perched on his elbows as she crawled over to him. She abruptly turned away from him and straddled him, her folds enveloping him, and filled herself up with him. Facing away from him, she consumed him at a pace so brutally slow, he knew she wanted him to feel just how devastating every moment without him was. He too found it devastating.

“Mei,” he choked in torture. She trailed one hand behind her, up the ridges of his broad, muscular chest. He could barely keep it together. He needed to see her face. “I love you,” he finally professed hoarsely. She turned and looked down at him with a knowing smile and started thrusting harder on him. He pulled her down on him. With her back to his chest, he thrusted into her hard. “I’ve always loved you,” he gasped into her ear. “Oh fuck,” she blurted out, unable to stave off her orgasm. “If he's to send you away, he will have to pry you from my hands.” He hugged her to him as he fucked her until he could feel her clamping down on him, nearly wailing. It was too much for him to bear and he reached his own climax, crying her name. She slowly turned to the side, pulling off of him, and gazed down at him. “Was that so difficult, my love?” she said slyly. It didn’t occur to him until after his confession that perhaps Mei had picked up a thing or two from Nobuyuki about coaxing what she wanted out of others. He sat up quickly and kissed her, if only to keep her from teasing him further, but as she relented to him, he found himself needing her again.

For his part, Nobuyuki had almost made it to his father’s chambers on the other side of the castle before realizing he forgot to ask Mei to return his late mother’s hairpin, a treasured token he’d let the girl mind for the duration of their brief engagement. He turned around, mulling over his strategy of breaking the news to his father. As he got closer to the room of his no-longer-betrothed, lost in thought, he noticed his heart was thumping madly. He stopped in his tracks, barely registering a different kind of thumping sound, and brought his hand to his chest. 

He rounded the corner and the sound only got louder. He stood outside the doors of Mei’s chambers and moved to hold his ear up to the door when he heard Mei let out an unmistakeable cry of pleasure. Absolutely floored, Nobuyuki could not believe his luck. He knew his father and brother would protest his canceling the wedding as they both came to cherish the kitchen girl, but now her betrayal was the perfect justification. He would spare Jinpachi as a victim of the woman’s seduction. Unlike his brother, Nobuyuki was not fond of bloodshed and lived by the philosophy that no one was more useful to him dead than alive. The poor ninja’s own unyielding sense of guilt would guarantee an even more total submission to him. And the girl would be allowed to return home, never to speak of her time at Ueda again. Who would believe her anyway? Nobuyuki could not have schemed a better outcome himself. 

He silently slid Mei’s door open, delighted to find the man he trusted his life with on the floor thrusting into the peasant cook. Jinpachi was sitting up on the ground and Mei was on his lap facing him. They were still mostly clothed, and they fucked with abandon. Nobuyuki was a perplexed by scene playing out and the clear passion and affection the two had for one another. After ruling out the possibility that these two may have been fucking behind his back the entire time, Nobuyuki quickly deduced that perhaps he had intruded on something back when he first decided to court Mei. 

Nobuyuki was surprised that neither seemed to notice him at all and suddenly felt embarrassed that he had interrupted something. The pleasure he expected to derive from happening upon such a serendipitous betrayal was usurped a different kind of pleasure altogether, which was confusing. 

Frankly, he’d never seen Mei like this: beastly, in utter disarray, and absolutely magnificent. Her elaborate silk kimono—had he given her that?— was ripped and her exposed breast bounced with the rhythm that Jinpachi pounded into her. He suddenly found himself deeply unsettled to realize that after a season-long engagement, perhaps he did have feelings for Mei after all as evidenced by the equally unsettling hardness he felt growing between his legs. Even more jarringly, when Nobuyuki laid eyes on Jinpachi, he found he could not take them off of him. Nobuyuki’s eyes bore into Jinpachi’s back, resplendent, flexed, and damp with sweat. The man’s endurance was impressive. Hells, it’s always the quiet ones, Nobuyuki thought to himself. In a weird way, Nobuyuki was proud of Jinpachi for finally thinking of himself for once, present circumstances notwithstanding. But it was Jinpachi’s worship of Mei’s body, the tenderness  he showed her even as he looked like he was about to break her left Nobuyuki faced with the sobering reality that he was utterly and pathetically lonely. 

A lifetime of meticulous diplomatic coersion, of strategizing every interaction, of treating everyone around him like Go stones had suddenly been rendered irrelevant. Nobuyuki had never questioned the ninja’s loyalty to him, but now questioned if Jinpachi’s steadfast dedication to him wasn’t a form of love. 

Nobuyuki watched as Jinpachi brought his hand between Mei’s legs, eliciting both a sharp cry and a languid thrust from her. Nobuyuki palmed at his own member as if the woman had rolled her divine hips on him. As Jinpachi bent forward to take her breast into his mouth apparently hell bent on pleasuring Mei every possible way he could, Nobuyuki imagined what her pert nipples would feel like under his tongue, between his lips, between his teeth. Would she find clarity in his touch and reach for him through the cloud of pleasure Jinpachi was surely giving her? Would she bless him with the pleasure of denying her? Could it be an act of love? 

She threw her head back as Jinpachi barreled into her, finally beginning to lose his cool as his climax built. She whined as her orgasm crept from her core to the peaks of her breasts to her throat, nearly squeezing the life from her until finally releasing.

“Jin!” she trilled, a sound so melodious Nobuyuki closed his eyes in awe, finding his own deliverance. “I’m! I’m—” 

She never finished the sentence as she convulsed around Jinpachi in unbearable pleasure, her silkiness squeezing him tightly and sending him over the edge with a strangled gasp. When they finally came down, the two looked at each other, suddenly sheepish as they smiled, savoring the serenity.

“Well that was quite a performance you two,” Nobuyuki interrupted. 

Mei and Nobuyuki immediately scrambled apart in abject horror. 

“No no no,” Nobuyuki sneered, basking in his ambush and the glow of his own climax. “No need to get up on my account.” He ambled over to a table, where, among Mei’s other jewelry, his own mother’s hair pin had been reverently placed. He picked it up and walked back over to the other two. His beloved guardian sat on his knees with his head down, stoic as ever. Jinpachi’s robe was harriedly but loosely retied. Mei, meanwhile, shuddered as she amusingly held her torn robe closed with one hand, her head also bowed. Her other hand was outstretched on the floor, held gallantly by Jinpachi.

Nobuyuki sat on his knees across from them looking at their clasped hands.

“Perhaps I was wrong,” he cooed, genuinely apologetic. He reached his hand out, and one by one lifted both their chins so they would meet his eyes. They were naturally baffled by his action and the palpable nervousness that emanated from him. He put his hand on Jinpachi’s shoulder and gave it a firm, loving squeeze. Jinpachi pondered the gesture, possibly beginning to understand. Nobuyuki then looked to Mei, gently brushed her unkempt hair, and placed his mother’s pin in it. He gazed at her with a look of remorse and adoration. This incredible woman, in her heartbreak, called him strange. She had no idea. He placed his hand on theirs.

“Maybe,” he said tentatively with something akin to love in his voice. He gazed into Mei’s eyes. “There is some value in you yet.”

[dancingisdangerouss]

Hi 👋🏼 absolutely love your writing! I was wondering if you could do EH characters with a deaf reader? Like with hearing aids? I never see these kind of characters and would love to feel included! 💕🤟🏼 if not then that's okay! Love your stories! ❤

Like headcanons? Sure 😌 I’m sorry this took me so long!!! I kept having to really think about it and kept forgetting it was in my drafts.

Al:

Annoyed at first, since he thinks you’re ignoring him. Cranky old man who’ll be pissed when you “aren’t listening” to what he tells you. Once he figures it out, he’s maybe a tiny bit sheepish, but not by much. You should have told him up-front, so it’s your fault you got hurt!

He can’t whisper things in your ears, so he’ll have to find other means of making you squirm and tremble, purposely breathing hot air on your throat and nipping your earlobes. If you can read lips, he’ll probably take keep the lower half of his mask off, so that you know what he’s…ordering you to do 😏

Eventually he just finds it cute, being able to sneak up on you and grab you from behind when you’re looking elsewhere, enjoying your shaking and fear each time he startles you. It’s cute, watching you jump when he comes up behind you and breathes on the nape of your neck.

Ernest:

There’s not…much to say about him, really. He’s kind of impartial about it. I feel like he might know sign language himself, or would take the time to learn it for you.

If he’s in the pining stage of not yet having you, I could see him saying all the things he wants to say while your back is turned, knowing you can’t hear him. He’s a Shy Boi, so he practices what he would say to you behind your back.

Arthur:

For sure already knows sign language. He’s a smart cookie. He already conveys a lot of his emotions with his facial expressions, so you probably won’t even need to hear him to know how he’s feeling/what he’s trying to convey to you.

He’s a bit…overprotective. You’re by no means incapable of doing things yourself, and are wholly independent, but he still worries. You can’t hear—what if someone snuck up on you? Stole you away before you could so much as scream? He keeps a close eye on you.

Paul:

He’s already a man of few words himself. Doesn’t talk a whole lot, except to his dog. So he doesn’t think much of it, just does his best to communicate however he can. He’s more of a man of actions, anyway.

Lars:

Probably kind of an asshole at first if you’re a hostage. Like?? Did you not hear what I said? Get on the ground!! Except…no, you did not hear what he said, and now he’s incredibly embarrassed.

He doesn’t know sign-language, but he’s trying his best. It’s kind of endearing, watching him awkwardly scramble to write things down for you, unsure of how best to communicate, apologizing profusely for his mistake.

Lars is like a clumsy puppy, torn between trying to seem intimidating and keep you in line, but also being incredibly accommodating to your needs and as helpful as possible.