#she wants nothing to do with him she hates him she was him once she looks far too much like him for her own comfort

[entitled-fangirl]

War prize.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!reader

Summary: The North hates Cregan's wife and shows it rather harshly. Cregan is there to tell them off.

Warnings: violence, sexism, talks of losing virginity unwillingly, the poor reader just going through it😭

A/n: My writing is kinda eh on this one but I got it done which is all that matters. Huge italicized sections mean like a little flashback in case you needed to know that. Based on an ask!

Masterlist

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She watched her guard lock the door behind him.

How long had she been stuck in this castle?

She felt used. Taken as a trophy and nothing more. Purely a way to show status.

Purely a way to show who won the war.

Cregan Stark had won the war. And now she was his.

He was kind and caring, quick to compassion and slow to anger. If not for the others, she could've seen this as a happy marriage.

But the others made that impossible.

For the door was not locked to keep her in, but to keep others out.

Cregan saw the very actions his people tried against her, and he was concerned. 

It didn't help that all of her dresses were green. A reminder of what had come to pass.

Anytime Cregan's back was turned, something happened to her. Whether it was harsh words, spitting at her feet, or even once a manhandling that almost turned into a mob.

Cregan knew she deserved better. She was kind. He hardly believed her to be a Hightower. At first glance that day in the Keep, he thought perhaps she was Aemond's wife, or another one of Aegon's whores he had always kept around.

But no. Aemond's twin sister.

…

He felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness when two men threw the woman to the ground in front of him.

Her dress was torn in places. Her hair was tangled and dirt ran from her temple to her chin, clearly having been thrown around a lot. She wiped the falling tears from her face with bruised hands. 

"What is this?" He asked the men. Others began to crowd around them to see what would become of her.

The men had only seen prostitutes along the path from the North to the Keep, and even those were few. Seeing a highborn lady was a rare sight.

"Found her hiding away," the man on her right commented.

Cregan sighed and reached down, pulling her chin up so he could look at her. He tipped her face from side to side, observing her. "And what did you hope I'd say when you threw a princess down at my feet? Did you expect me to reward you?"

The man paled. "Well, this is a traitor, my lord. Surely-"

"-Her only crime was the womb she was born from."

"She wear their colors still, Lord Stark-"

"Is she? I can hardly tell under the mud you've drug her through." He huffed, "I want you two out of my sight."

They looked at one another and nodded, moving to pick up the girl again. She jerked back in fear. 

"Leave her," he grumbled. "Well? Be gone. All of you!"

Slowly, they filed out of the room. "Are you gravely injured?" He asked softly.

"Not particularly, my lord," she whimpered.

He sighed and bent at the knee, joining her on the ground. "Did any of them truly put their hands on you? More than to drag you here?"

She wiped her face again, "Are you hoping to take my innocence, my lord?"

A noise involuntarily left his throat. "What?"

"I… It is yours. Just please don't harm me," she sniffled.

Any motion he made to comfort her, he pulled away as if burned. "I'm not going to do that."

"No, no please don't leave me to them," she begged when he pulled away. "Please don't let them have me. I'll do anything."

"They won't have you," he tried again. "Nothing more is going to happen to you. Now, go get redressed and come back. You're not leaving my side until I get this situated."

…

After a few hours, Cregan unlocked the door and entered their shared chambers. "My love?"

He cursed under his breath when he noticed she had fallen asleep on the bed. He wouldn't have been so loud had he known.

He sat on the bed and brushed her hair from her face. "Wake up, dear wife."

She hummed in discontent.

His lips pulled into a thin line. Things had gone especially wrong lately and it had begun to show in her actions. 

"C'mon." He began to pull her up. 

She whined and began to lean into him, tucking her face into his neck.

He chuckled, "I have something for you."

Her eyes opened, "Oh, do you?" 

…

There was outrage when Cregan took her as a wife. The North fought against the idea of having a Southern traitor as their Lady.

He had promised King Aegon III to be fair and just, and the boy said okay, knowing that he would stay honest to his word. 

But the North hated her all the same.

Cregan never considered to fear for her safety, for she was the Warden's wife, and he thought the people would know better than to touch her. 

That, and she hadn't told him of the things said right to her face when he wasn't around. She figured he knew. 

They walked through the city, her arm in his as he showed her around. She took in every sight she could, entranced by the culture of the North. 

But that also welcomed the stares.

Cregan had noticed them immediately, and he flipped her hood up. He didn't care about them, but he knew she would. So by doing so, he was hoping it would bring her a little more comfort. 

Anyone in Westeros would recognize that silver hair.

He leaned down just a bit. "Just tell me when you grow tired or cold."

She nodded, "May I go explore?"

He smiled, "So eager to get away from me?"

"No," she corrects.

"I'm only jesting. Go on."

She grinned and began to look around, trying to decide where to go first.

"Don't wander off too far," he remarked as he moved towards a lord to chat.

She nodded and went, walking a little further down the road. She looked back occasionally to make sure she was still in his line of sight. In doing so, she bumped into a woman harshly.

Y/n pulled back and apologized. "Forgive me!"

The woman set her basket down and straightened her skirt. "Foolish girl. Watch where you step next time."

"I do apologize." She dug in her pocket, pulling out a few coins. "Here. For your trouble."

The woman's eyes widened. She pulled the coins from her hand accusingly. "Where did you get these?" She hissed.

"Well… I… just from…" she turned back to where she could see Cregan. 

The woman grabbed her arm. "Did you steal these? Tell me where."

She jerked against the woman's movements. "No. No, I didn't."

"My lady, is this girl bothering you?" A tall man interfered, helping the woman.

The woman tilted her head, "She's throwing around coins like she's something of value. Look at 'er."

The man eyed her and reached up, pulling the princess' hood down. Their eyes widened. 

She turned to try to catch Cregan's attention, but the man pulled her to him. "A Targaryen, eh? The usurper's bitch sister, aren't you?"

"Please let me go," she whimpered.

"A green traitor in Winterfell? Seems the rumors were right."

She tried to pull her arm away, "Unhand me."

"Shut it, traitor scum."

"CREGAN!" She yelled out of instinct.

Cregan's head snapped immediately, his heart dropping to his stomach. His eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find her amidst the people that had begun to gather. But he couldn't see her. His worry grew and he began to step out into the crowd in hope of finding her.

She fought against the man's grip. She remembered this feeling of helplessness from only weeks before. "Stop! Please… Please, I'll do anything! Just stop!" 

Anyone around them was stopped now, onlooking or shouting at what was going on.

Cregan's jaw set as he figured she was in the midst of it, and he rolled his shoulders back.

"CREGAN!" He heard again, and that was all he needed.

He began to shove people to the side in an attempt to move through the mob that had begun to form. His angered shouts were drowned out.

Luckily, the Northern Warden was burly and built like a wall, so he was able to work through the crowd by sheer force alone. 

Once towards the middle, he finally saw her. 

The man held her tightly by her silver hair. Her hands were trying to lighten his harsh grip on her as she cried. She couldn't stop the others’ hands from pulling at her skirt or the way they spit at her, but she could at least try to stop the pain erupting from her scalp.

"ENOUGH!" Cregan yelled. He finally made it to them, and his hand gripped the man's throat tightly and he leaned down to his ear. "Unhand her."

She sunk to the ground and clutched at her dress.

Cregan kept his hand firm but looked out at the others that still surrounded them. "Leave." he growled through his teeth. "All of you." When no one moved, he threw the man to the ground and turned to them in rage. "LEAVE!"

One by one they left quietly. He looked down at the man. "May the gods have mercy on you, for I have none."

…

"Keep your eyes closed," he chuckled when she almost stumbled. "I've got you."

"How far must we go?"

"Almost there, I assure you."

After a while, he finally sat her down and instructed her to hold on her arms.

A heavy weight was placed in them. Something soft. Something moving.

"Open."

"A dire wolf?" Her eyes widened.

"Mere pup now, but a mighty predator later. I felt I owed you one."

She frowned, "You don't owe me a thing. I… I feel as if I owe you."

He couldn't stop a bright laugh from escaping his throat. "Hardly."

"Cregan," she began, trying to ignore the way the pup cuddled into her for warmth. "You have saved me time and time again. Without you, I would be in some brothel, or maimed by a man without heart, or…" her voice faltered, "Paraded through King's Landing as a true war prize. But I am not. I'm your wife instead. That is a fate I did not deserve."

"But I failed you. I promised to protect you, but I find that I cannot do that as well as I had hoped. This war was hard on my people. While I cannot fault them for their anger, it is wrong to use it on their Lady of Winterfell." His voice grew persistent. "You are mine. You are no Hightower anymore. You and I both know that."

She nodded and began to pet the wolf. "I pray that the North does one day."

"They will," he confirmed. "I shall make them if I must."

"I just don't want to be stuck in this room anymore. These walls are driving me mad," she admitted.

He sighed. "I'm sure they are. But soon you shall have a protector for when I cannot be there." He leaned down at pet the small pup on her lap. "This too will pass eventually."

"Once I give you an heir?"

"Once we have a child," he corrected, "I'm sure they shall be lighter on you."

"And until then?"

He smiled sweetly, "I'll do all I can. Now." He brushed hair from her face. "Please say you like it," he said as he looked down at the pup.

Only then did she let herself truly consider that she now had a dire wolf. "It's beautiful. I just…"

He held a finger up, "Enough of that. I promise you that I and this pup will not let another hand touch you."

She flushed lightly and smiled. "Thank you. I do not say that enough."

He shrugged. "You do, it just usually looks like other things instead."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he looked down at her dress, "wearing the dress that I had made for you is a thank you in and of itself. Blue suits you well. I could name things for all eternity. You are a perfect wife. And I admire you greatly."

"You've only known me seven moons."

"And that is seven moons enough to know."

"Cregan, I am a trophy of your accomplishments."

"You are hardly that."

She sighed, "But that is what they see me as."

"Do I?"

She considered his question. "I don't believe so."

"Then does it matter? I respect you, and with time, I will make sure they do as well."

She nodded and adjusted the dog in her arms. "Very well. I trust you."

He smiled and stood. "That's all I ask for. Now, name your pup and dress for supper. I'll come collect you myself. Is that alright?"

She nodded again.

"The North will like you," he left off with as he closed the door behind him.

She heard the lock behind him.

In time. 

In time.

Either they learn to like her, or they shall meet a Stark dire wolf closely.

The actual dire wolf or Cregan Stark, it didn't matter.

Their jaws would both equally snap at any threat.

.................................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

[merakiui]

What if NRC was like a regular college with communal showers? The dingy little cubicles are only separated by the cheap, thin plastic of the shower curtain, not very secure at all, anyone could shove it aside to find yuu naked, dripping wet and completely defenseless. The floor is so slippery, if she tried to run she would only fall and cripple herself further. Trying to keep quiet so no one else showering knows you’re getting pornstar railed just a few feet away. Oooo and vouyerism too. Innocently showering while someone stalker-y like rook, Lilia or jade furiously tug at their dicks imagining you lathering up your body with your signature soap that turns their brain into goop. Or iida watching you through hidden cameras he installed in the shower you regularly use 🤭🤭🤭

>:) imagine a few sneaky students steal your towel or bathrobe, so when you finish showering and you reach for it it's not there. >_< do you make the run from the showers to your room in hopes that no one will catch you, or do you try to ask someone in the showers to borrow their towel?? But then they'll know you're without a towel, and NRC students just love to have others in their debt, especially you since you're the only girl on campus... ;;; you really do hate these communal showers. T_T

And the shower curtains!!! So thin and so easy to pull down or yank aside. Maybe they can see your silhouette against it or your feet peeking out from the little space between floor and curtain, and he's right there with all sorts of naughty ideas in his brain.

Maybe you live on the floor with the Housewarden, and you call for him whenever something happens because he's responsible and will know how to handle these issues, right? But then it depends on which Housewarden you're in direct contact with. ^^;;; Idia is a perverted voyeur. Azul wants to know what you'll do for him in return before he decides to drape his jacket around your shivering, naked body (and you don't miss the way his eyes creep downwards). Malleus doesn't understand. Are you calling for him in this state because you hope to be taken to bed?? :D he can do that!!! Leona is probably the only one willing to knock some sense into his dorm members and (though he'll scoff and grouse) he's always there to answer your call.

Riddle almost slips on the floor and passes out when he sees you naked for the first time because he didn't realize you had nothing to cover yourself with. He's tracking down those troublemakers at once and having them kicked off the floor! >:( Kalim,,,, T_T he'll undress and hop in the shower with you, and then the both of you can share the towel afterwards! Yay for mutual shower time!!! :D Vil is an actor, so he can easily avoid staring at your body as he wraps you up in one of his fluffy, expensive robes. These "pranks" are done in such poor, invasive taste. He'll be sure to lecture the brutes who stole your towel/robe. Perhaps you ought to spend the night with him in the meantime, just to be safe? :)

Shower sex with Floyd....... T_T omg or or or!!! He's just come back from the practice for his respective sport and is so exhausted and tired and just,,, throws open the curtain to your shower because it's the closest one and he doesn't feel like waiting for the water to warm up in the other showers. orz

[blooms-in-april]

I'm thinking sad Jaskier thoughts.

It takes a while for Geralt to realize the music is gone. Oh Jaskier still sings- for their supper, for Ciri when she's sad, to entertain Kaer Morhen on late card playing nights. But the music- the music is gone. No more of the mindless humming as he walks, no more parsing over rhymes by the fire, no more harassing Geralt for his thoughts on such and such melody. Jaskier sings like a wind-up music box, only when requested, cranked for it, and snapping shut into silence like the sharp closing of a lid.

Yennefer snorts at his concern. "It took you this long to notice?"

Geralt grunts. She smiles, sharp and bitter. "You always were slow."

"How do I fix it?" Geralt snaps. He is not here to be mocked or play games.

"Can you fix it?" Yennefer asks. "I don't know."

Geralt doesn't know either. All he can do is try.

One of the mages had left a god's damned harpsichord in their tower room. It takes Geralt weeks- lugging the ornate monstrosity down from the mages tower, finding schematics in the library for the damn thing, undoing by sheer will the rot and moulding of a hundred years on the instrument. He spends his evenings waist deep in the guts of the instrument, swearing over chords and tuning and keys.

Jaskier's silence, now that he notices it, gapes like an open wound, bleeding wherever he goes. It stains memories of years past, of a cheerful smile and conversation given to him so freely, so easily, not a hint of subterfuge or awkwardness or fear. Now Jaskier only says good morrow if Geralt says it first, only speaks when spoken to, only smiles when Ciri is looking his way.

Geralt polishes the harpsichord until his fingers blister and his nose stings from the smell. He paints the elaborate carvings with pure gold leaf. He spends hours tightening strings trying to get the thing in tune. He worries over it like a child, because he doesn't know what else to do.

"What do you think?" He asks Eskel as they carry it carefully down to Jaskier's room.

"It's very nice." Eskel says diplomatically. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"Appreciate it?" Geralt doesn't want appreciation. He wants that soft tone back in Jaskier's voice when he speaks to him. He wants Jaskier to speak to him, to turn to him free and easy with something to say.

"He'll like it," Eskel says, "Just-"

He turns, his soft eyes full of warning. "Just don't put all your hopes on an old harpsichord."

Lambert snorts, "Too little too late!" He laughs. And Lambert has always been hateful, more so since Aiden was lost, but the words feel true.

Jaskier smiles when he presents him with the harpsichord. He exclaims and laughs and claps his hands. He extolls its virtues, coos over its decorations, fusses over it with all the enthusiasm of a performing parrot. He pulls Ciri onto his lap and guides her hands on the keys, composes a little ditty on the fly for Yennefer, plays something sweet and sad that makes Lambert turn his face away. In all the merriment and gratitude and excitement, he looks Geralt in the eyes only once. Once, upon the first shock of the present. Once, with eyes wide and open, like a wound.

Geralt lingers as the others go off to bed, watching as Jaskier slowly fades as his audience wanes.

"Thank you, Geralt." he says. "It is truly a magnificent present. And far more than I deserve."

Do not thank me is what Geralt wants to say. Do not thank me, not when I have done this to you.

"I didn't do much," is what comes out of his mouth. "It was already there."

Jaskier does not look at him. "If this is an apology-" he says, "I do not need it. You were tired and upset. You spoke your mind. And nothing you said was- untrue. From a certain point of view. You do not need to absolve your guilt to me."

"Jaskier," Geralt says. "I'm sorry."

"And I forgive you." Jaskier says "I forgave you even the moment you after spoke. I don't think I would be myself if I could do otherwise."

It is done. The gift given, the apology accepted. And yet the silence still sits heavy in the air. It is not fixed. It is still broken. It is still out of tune and all of Geralt's twisting and tunings have not set the melody to rights.

"Why are you still like this?" He says. Jaskier stiffens. The words are wrong again, he's done it again, and he could scream with frustration, like a child who keeps swinging the sword and cutting himself on the dulled edge.

"Do you know the Countess de Stael bought me a Stradivarius once?" Jaskier said. "You don't know what that is. A fiddle, rarer than rubies. There were only twenty ever made. It sings like nothing else. She presented it to me on a bed of velvet, and told me she loved me. She told me to stay. And I would have."

Jaskier plinks a few idle notes. "She kicked me out a month later. Too mouthy. Too tacky. Too gauche. She had found someone better. She took back the Stradivarius and handed it off to her new minstrel."

"What I am saying, Geralt-" He says. "What I am asking- Is that you not do things you do not mean. That you not give me false hope. That you stop trying to make me love you, because I already do. I already do and it hurts. It hurts so much."

[isbreulla]

Any head canons you're willing to share about Sarah, Snape, and co? I'm invested.

Here are some headcanons for you...

Once Anya gives birth to Sarah and dies during childbirth in Azkaban, the Ministry of Magic considers leaving the child with the Dolohov family but first tries to find out who the child's father is. Severus Snape is confirmed as Sarah's father and gains custody of her.

After Snape is confirmed as Sarah's biological father, the Ministry spends a few months trying everything they can to take custody of Sarah away from Snape, believing that he could be a danger to the child due to his past as a Death Eater.

At this moment, Snape fears losing his daughter to the Ministry, but at the same time he questions whether he will be the father she deserves.

With Dumbledore's help, Snape manages to keep custody of his daughter.

From now on, Snape will do everything to protect Sarah and to prove to the Ministry that he is a good father, and would never be a risk to his daughter. Thus, he becomes very overprotective.

Snape had no idea how to raise a child, so he did what he did best, he studied. He read every book on parenting he could find and became a master at being a father.

Snape never liked children in general, Sarah was his only exception. He would do anything for her. Within limits, he didn't want to raise a spoiled brat.

When Sarah was a toddler Snape would take her to play in a park near Spinner's End, but he would keep her close at all times. If any stupid child bothered her, he would scare them away.

Snape does not use corporal punishment. He does not want to be like his father in any way. His method of discipline is time-out… Sometimes a pinch or a tug on the ear every now and then, nothing serious.

As Sarah grows up, Snape becomes increasingly anxious and stressed.

Snape expects academic excellence from Sarah, and always guides her towards the path he believes is right.

Aside from his past as a Death Eater and Sarah's mother, Snape is very honest with Sarah, he tries to tell her the truth about the world, they talk a lot about lots of different subjects.

Snape may be seen as a conservative father to many people, but the truth is that he only wants the best for his daughter, and he honestly does everything to see her happy.

When Sarah comes out to him, Snape is not surprised. But he makes sure she knows she is loved and that he will support and protect her always.

Sarah's coping mechanism is to write her frustrations in her diary.

Sarah hates most of the people in her house at Hogwarts, but most specifically Pansy Parkinson. The girl is a living hell.

Sarah is a sassy girl, even to her father. But she tries to control herself around other people, because she doesn't want them to take him less seriously because of her.

Sarah knows better than to argue with her father when it comes to his rules. But that doesn't mean she'll accept them without complaint.

The main reason why Sarah is always arguing with her father is because she doesn't know anything about her mother, but also because Snape tends to keep her in a bubble at all times.

Sarah is the affectionate one of the family. She loves to hug her father all the time (when no one is looking of course).

When she was younger, Sarah liked to paint her father's nails.

Sarah lived at Hogwarts before becoming an official student, but the rule was that she couldn't leave her father's quarters without him… A rule she broke countless times.

Sarah loves toads, but Snape is disgusted by them so she could never have one. One time Sarah sneaked a toad home to test a potion on it, and the toad ended up multiplying… She was in trouble.

Ron Weasley doesn't really like Sarah because he thinks she's too much like her father. Sarah thinks he's a bit of an idiot.

Hermione also doesn't like Sarah at first, because she doesn't believe she can be trusted. But little by little they become friends.

Sarah knows that Snape has to protect Harry, and this makes her slightly jealous. She doesn't like the boy very much at first, but she always tries to help him as much as she can.

… and that's enough for today folks!

[myluvmine]

The Void

Pairing: Matt Murdock × fem!reader

Summary: If he had been a bit more careful, maybe this wouldn't have happened. But it did, and Matt believes it was all his fault. Now, the void is all there is left.

Word Count: 0.7k

Warnings: mentions of blood, ANGSTY angst, no happy ending, it's a tad bit sad overall yk

A/n: I'm on my period and feeling angsty, this was a direct result of that I'm afraid😭✋. And I would personally like to thank @mattmurdeaux for making this GORGEOUS GORGEOUS (I seriously love it so bloody much) gif and putting it out into the world. Thank you love, we all appreciate a bloody, sad matty boi out here.💗

💞reblogs and feedback are tremendously appreciated!!💞

His knuckles hurt. The overwhelming copper tang of blood invaded his senses so strongly that it was impossible to ignore. They were certainly bleeding, he was sure.

The bruises and blood hurt, but the void that resided where his heart once did was a lot worse. The emptiness was a lot worse.

"Matt you've gotta stop this, you're gonna end up dead!"

He'd been distracted for just a moment, but it'd been enough to change the entire trajectory of his life.

Matt hated himself in that second. This was nothing new ofcourse, Matt Murdock was never his own biggest fan. But never had he experienced such unadulterated rage towards anyone— or anything like this before.

And there would never be another before, he'd made sure of that.

"Goddammit Matthew, are you even listening to me?!"

The film of muted buzzing that had wrapped itself securely around him, slowly choking him, seemed to loosen it's grip for a minute. Matt deliberately clenched his left hand into a fist, it definitely hurt— the raw skin stretching painfully, sending sharp pangs shooting mildly up his arm. He could feel his helmet pressing into the back of his calf as he uncrossed his ankles. He was on his couch. Back in his apartment.

"Foggy?" he enquired brokenly into the surrounding darkness, his voice scratching his windpipe. It felt so very foreign— speaking. Almost like something he hadn't done in weeks.

He felt Foggy's demeanor soften as his best friend's wounded voice reached him. "What— what're you doing here?"

"This has gotta stop buddy" came Foggy's soft but stern reply. It wasn't a suggestion, but a statement. The joint symphony of heartbeats and footsteps indicated his best friend was moving towards him— closer, but with measured steps.

The void in Matt's chest only seemed to grow with each passing day, almost drowning him in it's depths. In an attempt to fight the darkness pulling at his feet, he had sought to fix the irreparable damage he had done by attempting repayment in blood and bruises, by starving himself of peace, sustenance and sleep. By carving himself inside out to rectify the irredeemable.

He'd stretched himself thin in the process, to put it kindly. Going after every petty robber that crossed his path and putting all that he had into bringing down the new branches of the Irish crime syndicate that had recently popped up in and around Hell's Kitchen.

It was far from what those who cared for him — atleast the ones that were left— had wanted for him, but it didn't matter now. None of that mattered. The void was getting even bigger.

"She wouldn't have wanted you to go on like this" although the words left Foggy's lips in a whisper, they pierced through Matt's skin with the impact of a thousand knives, embedding themselves between his ribs— a throbbing pain twisting in it's place.

The tone of finality along with the implications of it being something from the past, licked up his ribs like the hottest flames.

It was his fault.

If he'd been quicker, acted a little more fast, you'd still be here. You would be the one reprimanding him for not taking care of himself. You would have gently run your fingers through his hair as you scolded him. Afterwards, you would have held him close and pressed kisses to the expanse of his forehead, the button of his nose and he crook of his neck, as he looked on with adoration, as you told him how much he meant to you. How you loved him.

But you were gone, and the void almost had him now.

"I'm the reason she isn't here now, Foggy" Matt let out dejectedly, his voice quivering. His eyes were empty now as the tears that filled them to the brim — but stubbornly refused to fall — clouded his soul.

"I can't stop seeing it. Every time I close my eyes it's like I'm right back there, reliving it over and over with no way to change the outcome."

The past could not be changed and the present, which lead to a future devoid of you was quickly cementing itself as an event inevitable in Matt's mind.

Matt Murdock's world had been swallowed whole by the void, his heart lost in it's valleys and crevices.

[sugar-crash]

🍬King Candy (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader👑

(Beginning Relationship Pt. II Edition!)

(Just a tad bit different🔑 than it usually is, Have fun :))

- Tries his best to separate him from who he used to be to ward off suspicion of his shady behavior but as we can all see, he’s not exactly the best at it at times. Especially if you knew him when he was Turbo. Johunlz

- His more friendly King Candy look gives him far more leeway than he had as Turbo which he wanted purposely. He uses it to his advantage, especially when it comes to you, literally that one scene from Adventure Time. Shameless about it on top of that. ohcl

- Much like how he was previously, he teases you. But it’s far more lighthearted I guess? Sometimes he just says something absolutely mean as shit and then pats your head patronizingly in the same breath. Hate him. illu

- Being some of the shortest game characters of the bunch, he’s no stranger to being looked down upon, literally, and by then he doesn’t have much of an issue with his s/o being taller than him…

- However, if by some miracle or chance, you’re smaller than him, he thinks you’re so cute, affectionately calling you “snack-sized”, and he’ll say it when he tries to get on your nerves for one reason or another. thkl,

- Lovessss putting others down, when it comes to you, it’s more lighthearted or joking (with that little metaphorical bug in his ear relishing being able to do so), and anyone else??? Not as much. pu

- Lives for the praise you give him, as much as he doesn’t admit it of course, that self-satisfied and smug grin he gets whenever you congratulate him for having majority wins/being chosen the most as an avatar on Sugar Rush says it all. tvyl

- While being the one to establish the paywall and coin prizes (cause he’s an insidious asshole), he kinda hates that he can’t have an actual trophy like he used to— Can’t exactly display them for you to comment on later on considering they are constantly being used and turned into code. But hey, at least they have his insignia on them. aohu

- Calling myself out on this once more, but, the description randomalistic used for him in this YouTube video (which,,, I highly suggest watching if you haven’t already), specifically “a corrupt politician” is frighteningly accurate, he lies, he cheats, he sabotages, a perfect allegory for a corrupt higher power. vul

- And he fucking knows it man, proud of it even, one of his most successful works and he can’t even brag about it, can’t even tell you. wshjl

- We really don’t see what his relationship is between him and the other racers besides Taffyta claiming he wants to keep them safe and uh… The race track scenes. So from what I can ascertain I can fully see him acting like Miss Hannigan from Annie, specifically this one scene (yeah this post is just chocked full of links, bear with me), the mental image of him mockingly saying “she had to go bathroom” with his lisp makes me weak.

- Even in his new and far more prestigious position as King he still longs for more, with his limits and disguises imperfections not helping this inner turmoil, even in a game as big as Sugar Rush boredom takes root and he even his excuses that explain why he stays in Sugar Rush to you have a nearly invisible air of uncertainty to them.

- Makes a point to make you feel good, loved, cared for all throughout your visits to Sugar Rush, nothing is too good for you, there’s always more.

- I think this kind of behavior stems from this deep seated desire to make sure you don’t leave him, you could have everything you want with his help— Why wouldn’t you stay? Please stay.

- Caged. That’s how he feels secretly, I mean, who wouldn’t? He wasn’t exactly coded to be a monarch, all these responsibilities, not even his coding skills could help him with that…. I mean, would he even be himself without it?

- Achievements, what are they for when it’s the same thing over and over again? Validation? Attention? Power?? You maybe? Things he’s been chasing after for all of his life, well— Not you but he’s realized that he’s become far too attached to you, your softness, your sensitivity.

- Each moment spent together is far more significant to him than what he thought it’d be when he first showed interest in you— Thinking it’d be like every other relationship (mostly platonic ones) he’s been in, fleeting, and ending with you hating him, you had every right to after all.

- Sickness, an insult that had been thrown his way over a dozen times to the point where it usually gets a scoff and furrowed brows, but it feels devastating when you say it after his true nature is unceremoniously revealed by his hubris.

- Abandoned— That familiar pang ripping through his newly mutated form as you struggle for your life alongside the others that stayed behind to help every last one of the Sugar Rush people to get to safety from the unruly swarm of Cy-Bugs eating their home into nothing.

- Red. That’s all he sees as he brutally beats Ralph down into a pulp and cruelly taunts everyone else as he holds the overgrown bad guy in the air, eagerly and sadistically waiting for a little girl to meet a brutal end only to meet his own.

(Almr sarqr dprk’s sll lk sar klqr)

[3motionally3xhausted]

Redesigning the Fentons!!

Hi yes this is for yet another Danny Phantom AU of mine it has nothing to do with the Apprenticeship AUs but unlike that batch I actually wanna turn this AU into a fic eventually once I get through a few other big projects I have *sobs*

Anyway individual files for each character under the cut along with my obligatory rambling about all the choices I made ;)

Jazz! Honestly, when I was a kid, I always thought she was 18 not 16 so it was kind of a shock when I started rewatching the show about a yr ago and heard that. Anyway, she's 17 in this AU but already moved out to college on a scholarship bc living in FentonWorks is kind of hell and she has that Older Sibling Guilt for leaving Danny there. For her clothes, I wanted it to be a mix of tactical and preppy.

Danny! (Fenton) The effects of FentonWorks hell is much more visible on Danny than Jazz because she got out of there as soon as she could. Because of that though, a lot of the chores in the lab got pushed onto Danny, without passing on many safety tips, like replacing the ecto-filtrator, cleaning contaminated tools, organizing ecto-weapons, etc. And because he doesn't know any better when it comes to safety, he has many symptoms of radiation poisoning: visually, this comes through in the discoloration/scarring on his skin (Jazz has some slight scarring on her face and hands as well), the cataract on his left eye, as well as burst blood vessels in that eye. For his clothes, I wanted them to look a bit ragged and worn through ripped seams, tears in the jeans, & duct tape around his shoe.

Danny! (Phantom) I don't actually have a lot to SAY about my choics, but I am really happy with it. There are still a few things. I wanted his hair as Fenton & Phantom to be different but still reminiscent of the simplistic rendering of the original show: Fenton is kind of timid so his hair falls over his face, & Phantom is more active/aggressive so his hair is pushed upward. The only other thing I want to comment on is his skin: it's kind of about how I usually stylize Phantom (and I mentioned this when I redesigned Dani a while back) but a "healthy" Phantom in my style would have more bright cyan skin and an unhealthy Phantom has a more dull/zombie green. And lastly, as a ghost, the radiation poisoning kind of cleans up into more neat scarring rather than the muddy/bleeding look as Fenton.

Maddie! Now, I'm gonna be honest, real vulnerable here,... I hate Maddie's canon haircut. It's ugly, I'm not sorry. But I can modify it, so it's fine: now it's curlier, a bit darker, and has a few grey streaks bc she's a genius and constantly pulling long working hours. And, it didn't come across as much as I wanted, but she's got some biceps, strong lady. Now, I'm not really sure why, but I wanted to shift the color of her and Jack's jumpsuit, making hers much more desaturated.

Jack! Big guy. I don't have many thoughts about him either, but I did give him glasses and some stubble for a little bit more dad energy (?) I mainly changed the color of his jumpsuit bc Orange is an extremely hard color for me to render for some reason, so now it's the classic Hazard Yellow. Finally, the most notable difference is the coat I put on him for a bit more scientist energy but my main reasoning for it is the potential visual of him being an absolute tank jumping from overhead with the ghost gauntlets and his coat flapping behind him. Also, I generally like the idea of him presenting himself as a big, dumb teddy-bear, always smiling, but completely unhinged below that facade: dropping the smile or not while towering over you in shadow. Wild imagery.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Do not count on any actual steps towards creating this fic in the near future, it's just on my mind right now, but I NEED to finish my other projects first 🙏🙏🙏 That said, I will (eventually) get around to a handful more character redesigns for this AU including: Vlad, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, Paulina, and maybe Lancer & Dash

[softspeirs]

Steer Clear

A/N: Here we are, kids. This OC came to me out of nowhere. I had no plans to write anything for Ev Blakely, but once I started thinking about it, I couldn't stop. Meet Marie.

It was an innocuous request, in his mind. Hey, Fernandez. Run these messages to the Colonel on your way?

She had frozen in place, halfway down the tower steps at his words, and he recognized the look on her face. He's seen it a thousand times since he met her over a year ago.

"I'm pressed for time, Captain." She says. "I have to run these figures to the plotters--"

"You're on your way there anyway." He insists. He holds out a stack of messages. Weather reports, updated communications from nearby bases, messages about incoming ferries happening later that day.

She turns her back on him.

Heads right down the stairs like he hadn't even spoken, and leaves him standing there.

"For fuck's sake," he whispers to himself, and then he's taking off, hot on her heels.

She's like a wraith the way he catches only glimpses of her disappearing around corners, until finally she's in Ops, handing a message to Red at the maps before turning to pass on other messages, her steps quick and efficient.

The room is relatively quiet and he's sure he's not imagining the way people take one look at the two of them and pretty much clear out. They don't want to be stuck inside with them when the arguing inevitably starts.

He sighs. "Fernandez-- can you just wait a minute?"

"Not really, no."

The thing about an impending promotion is that he's starting to understand why Jack hates being Air Exec. He hates being stuck inside, or in the tower, or elsewhere on the base while others are doing the flying. He understands his role. He'll do it and he'll do a damned good job of it, but that doesn't mean he likes it.

Especially because it means he's in close contact with the Ops staff, who are all, except for Marie Fernandez, willing to work with him.

"Do we have a problem?" He blurts, because he already knows they do. The first day he met her she looked at him with.... nothing. She wasn't rude or anything, but he felt like he could have been any other suit standing in front of her, and it hit him in the gut like he didn't expect. "I'm not giving you orders, I just asked if you'd do me a favor." He's aware his tone is hardening. He's trying not to let it happen, but she's just staring at him in that way she does.

"I don't work for you," she points out, tone perfectly neutral, but something about it just grates. He opens his mouth to respond, but she beats him to it. "I work for the Colonel, and he's the one who gives me orders."

His hands go to his hips and he looks down at the ground, clenching his jaw as he fights his temper. "We're working together, Fernandez. All of us." He leans in, "Unless you forgot."

Her eyes narrow. "Because I couldn't possibly feel the same patriotism that you do, could I?" She pretends to think, finger tapping he chin. "I forgot that the only way to fight from the air is in the seat. Us pencil pushers don't count." Her eyes are blazing, a few tendrils of her dark hair escaping from their pins after hours and hours of work.

"You weren't supposed to hear that." He mutters. Not a good excuse, but he can't help but bite back at her. She gets under his skin - he needs to have the last word. It's a matter of pride, is what he tells himself.

"Then don't gossip where everyone can hear you, Captain." She raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Now. Is there something I can help you with? Because if not, then we're busy."

He takes a deep breath, tries to lower his voice. "I'm just asking if you would be willing to take messages when you're on your way anyway--"

"-- And I told you I don't have time. I know you think I don't do anything but sit around and twirl my hair all day--"

"That's not what I think."

"Can I--" Harry Crosby's head appears around the doorframe of his office.

"Not now, Croz--"

"Shut up Harry--"

They both snap at him in unison, and he holds his hands up in surrender and backs into his office. He's been the third wheel of too many arguments between Fernandez and Blakely over the last few months, and he has no desire to get in the middle of another one, even though he's desperate for a few minutes of quiet.

The sudden quiet between them is tense and for a moment -- he doesn't even think she's aware she does it - the wall around Marie Fernandez comes down. Her face is open, vulnerable. She looks exhausted, just like the rest of them.

She takes a deep breath, settles her shoulders, and squares to face him again, and he's suddenly breathless. She is unbearably lovely. Especially when she's yelling at him. And his heart is pounding, and she's saying something but he can't hear her and--

"Well?" She snaps.

"I-- what?"

"I said, the next time you need something from Ops, send one of the other girls. There's no need for us to keep disturbing everyone else." Her voice is quieter than it was a few minutes ago and he hates it. The fight's gone out of her eyes too, and for a crazed half-second, he wants to reach for her.

To do what, he has no idea, but suddenly he feels out of control, like he has no idea how to speak or move or--

She brushes past him. The door slams behind her as she goes back to her office, just outside the Colonel's.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as the quiet of the room settles over him. He knows this has to get sorted. They can't keep fighting like this, not with the invasion so close on the horizon, not when the communication between Ops and the tower is so important.

They need to trust each other, and he needs to keep his big mouth shut and stop taking his frustrations out on her.

He knows all this, but there's a part of him that's itching for a fight, and she's always willing to give it. Perhaps it's the masochistic part of him that came back from Bremen, knowing everything had gone to shit and convinced that it always would.

Harry comes out of his office again, hands in his pockets.

"Don't say it--"

"You can't keep doing that." He says, serious.

"She started it--"

"She's just doing her job, doing what she's supposed to do."

"I asked for a favor! That's all! Goddamn, you'd think I'm asking for her to get in the goddamn seat and drop a bomb on Hitler's house."

Crosby frowns. "Look, I just-- you let her get to you, and I don't know why, but you're driving everyone crazy. We're all tired but this is too important."

He opens his mouth to argue that Harry Crosby of all people shouldn't be lecturing him about being tired, but he bites his tongue. The door behind him opens again, and he looks over his shoulder, expecting her to storm back in and demand he apologize to her, but it's Douglass.

"Fightin' with Marie again?" He asks, casually, leaning against the wall as he bites down on an apple.

"Jesus Christ." Ev mutters.

"I'm just asking because the two of you really know how to clear a room."

"I'm going to go now. Don't you two have anything better to do?"

"Besides bother you? Not really."

"Thanks, Dougie."

Douglass follows him out the door, calling after him, "Just let us know when you're finally going to do something about it so we can steer clear, alright?"

Blakely flips him the finger over his shoulder and walks back to the tower, his gut roiling for reasons he doesn't want to examine. No, he'll steer clear of her from now on. It's best for everyone.

[imaginesbymonika]

Futile Devices | Part 3

Pairing: Noel Gallagher x childhood-best friend!reader

Plot: There's nothing quite like realizing your feelings once it's too late. But what would life be without a speck of hope?

Previous part

He‘s observing you. His blue eyes are moving up and down your body as if it’s a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Something that would vanish as quickly as it appeared in front of him. His friends sitting next to him are all trying to talk to him. Their mouths are close to his ears, trying their absolute best to get just a fraction of his attention. But God, he just couldn’t care any less. Even if he would try to make an effort to care (a gun to his head and all that) he just physically couldn’t bring himself to it.

He hates the loud music that is blasting from the speakers. Noel finds pop music obnoxious and aggravating.

“It’s just made to make a lot of money!”, he had told you one evening. “What about the Spice Girls?”, your question earned you a rolling of eyes. And he had said something along the lines of “them specifically!” Yet, right this second he’s their biggest fan; forever grateful that they produced ‘Say You’ll Be There’. And maybe, just maybe he has to thank them in person the next time he sees them at the Brit’s. Perhaps even apologize for what his fool of a brother said about them.

“Any fool can see they’re falling”, you loudly sing along, throwing your upper body forward. You’re facing your friend who is mirroring your movements:” I gotta make you understand: I’ll give you everything, on this I swear, just promise you’ll always be there!” Your singing was followed by a giggle.

Noel chuckles while taking another sip of his drink. He would do that, just for the record- if anyone cared to ask him. His eyes move down to your hips and monitor closely how they sway to the rhythm. However, when two big hands find their way onto the soft material of your dress he clenches his jaw. Damon. Fucking Damon Albarn. Your new boyfriend.

“You’re fucking joking.”, Noel said, while running his hand down his face. “Well, he’s really nice!”

“Oh! He’s nice!”, Noel repeated your words, his voice thick with annoyance and mockery:” You do know that his band and my band have this thing going on, right?”

“You mean that stupid rivalry?”

Noel closed his eyes in unadulterated frustration and leaned back against the couch:” Stupid riva-. I can’t believe this.” He shook his head in disbelief. Just the mental image of you and Damon together made his blood boil. “Imagine if I was dating Lily!” Now it was your turn to stare at him in shock:” That is not the same, Noel! She stole my boyfriend!”

“And Damon stole my awards.”, he angrily answered even though he desperately wanted to say your name instead.

“Are you okay?”, a voice next to him snaps him back into the present, and when Noel twists his head in the direction of the voice he makes eye contact with a stunning blonde. He swallows thickly. “Yeah, I’m good.”, Noel lies. Out of the corner of his eye, he can catch a glimpse of how you and Damon make out with one another.

The woman in front of him chuckles, while her eyes roam the crowded room before landing back on his lips:” Want to get out of here?” And without glancing back at you he simply nods his head.

[worldbeyondtheworld]

There's an another potential layer / interpretation to The Fives Stages / Just As Once You Were Nothing ending once you know the entire story.

The Long Quiet destroys her and himself by refusing to choose and leaving. He hurts her over and over again by doing this. Even so, she forgives him, and they are together, embracing as they fade into oblivion, alternatingly feeling agony and ecstacy with each other.

What is the additional layer?

Yes, the Long Quiet is a god of stasis and stagnation. He doesn't want to choose to deal with conflict and things changing.

He doesn't want to get hurt, no matter what the Voice of the Cold (denial of and numbing yourself to pain) or Stubborn (using companionship and the same mind-numbing physicality over and over again to ignore pain) say.

Part of him loves the Princess and doesn't want to hurt her. He wants to stay with her.

He hates an eternity of no change.

Isn't the loop that? An eternity of unending conflict where they hurt each other over and over again? The construct doesn't allow their interactions to be anything else outside of the void where they meet as gods.

And going by a different ending, this isn't the first time the two of them went through the loops.

Maybe a Long Quiet choosing this ending is one who has gone through infinite loops. As usual, they don't remember at the beginning. But they feel the tension, the exhaustion, the dread of more pain. He fears that he and she will choose to go through this again because they are afraid of what is beyond the Construct.

So he chooses to end it all - him, her, the entire Construct. He accepts hurting her (and himself) because going through the loops always hurt, anyway. At least this agony will end. Forever.

And they are together as they fade. Not as tightly intertwined as when they are the Wild. But they are together nonetheless to the end.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 56 (Stress Relief)

cw: very low spice but skivvies and such 🌶️

Heather received sad news from Henford when Everett’s grandmothers, Agatha and Agnes Crumpcakes, died within weeks of one another. But Heather was so busy with Ash and work that she couldn’t get home for the funeral. "I'm so sorry, Everett," she said when she called.

"Heather, it's okay. With everything you have going on, I understand."

"I hate myself or it."

"Stop it. My grandmothers know you send your love."

She hung up and held her head in her hands. She was so exhausted, and Ash was up late, demanding a second bedtime story. She felt pulled in too many directions at once, unable to give the best of herself to anyone around her.

Conrad could tell she was stressed, and the next weekend Ash was at his father's. "Let's go on a date," he suggested.

"I don't think I have the energy to get all dressed up for a night out," she said honestly.

"Casual," he insisted. "We could take the animals to Deadgrass Isle and just relax for the night."

The wind in her hair on the boat to the isle did sound invigorating. "I might be terrible company," she warned.

"I'll still always be there, even if you're terrible company."

She gazed lovingly. "Alright. Let's go!"

They played with the animals and let them explore the grassy island, but as the night air cooled considerably, the isle slowly emptied of tourists.

"Come watch the sunset from the lighthouse with me," said Conrad. "The animals will be alright down here for a while. He had a flirtatious glint in his eye. His hand travelled down her back, gently caressing her skin through her jacket. Golden sun bounced off her cheeks. Conrad was captivated.

Two hearts over the door to the electrical room gave Conrad an idea. "Have you ever made love inside a lighthouse before."

Butterflies flitted inside her stomach. Conrad's left hand grabbed her by the waist as the right swung open the unlocked door. The room was empty, except for the switches and generators that powered the bulb, with piles of dusty wooden boxes covered in tarp.

They fell into an embrace, collapsing onto old blankets and carpeting that could have smelled better. But they were too hungry for one another to care too much about their surroundings.

Making love inside the two-hundred-year-old lighthouse, they stayed in their embrace until after sunset, but when they stood to get dressed an old tackle box fell from a shelf.

As metal fishhooks crashed against the wooden floors, Conrad whipped around to the sound but found nothing. He could swear he heard a dog growl, but Gord was chasing seagulls on the grass outside. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what? The fishhooks?"

"There's a dog in here." He looked around fruitlessly, but Heather laughed him off.

"Bella Goth always heard stories of ghosts and buried treasure on Deadgrass Isle. But she says the only ghosts are in the pet cemetery and if there was ever buried treasure it's long gone, now."

"I know it sounds crazy, but I could swear-"

"It could have been any dog, but so what if it was a ghost?"

"I've always thought ghosts usually have unfinished business."

"You solve mysteries all day at work and in your spare time you want to help ghosts cross over, too?"

He laughed a little at how it sounded. "When you put it that way...maybe, I guess."

"Maybe one day you'll get around to breaking curses, too."

"If Ash really was cursed, I wouldn't care what it takes. I'd solve it. But he's been doing great, and Dr. Serra said his last scans showed no long-term injuries."

Heather leaned in to kiss her sweet, handsome man. "I love you more than I'll ever know how to properly say. I just crumble trying to come up with words that don't make me an anxious mess."

"I know you love me," he said. "I love you, too. I don't need speeches. Just you."

She grinned. "Oh, you're a poet now?"

Ever the detective, Conrad was sure of what he heard, but after a quick visit to the cemetery so they could pay their respects to departed pets, they hopped on the last boat to the mainland.

It seemed inevitable; a matter of time before Conrad's innate curiosity would bring him back to the lighthouse... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[dullgecko]

The Bad Kids pick up some sort of illness while out on their senior year project and have to quarantine in Mordred Manor for a couple of weeks before being allowed back in school.

Riz and Fabian are pretty equally tied for the title of "absolute worst to deal with when ill".

Riz would have been completely fine if he'd just stopped to rest for a day or two, but instead he tries to keep working and makes everything a lot worse and ends up pushing himself into four levels of exhaustion, all while hiding his symptoms. Even once he's recovered a bit from that, he is still so bitey and snappy with everyone, especially if they try to tell him what to do. He hates not being in control of his situation and all of his routines have gone completely out of the window and everything is so unpredictable and he keeps getting woken up by other people coughing and he wants to go home but he's not allowed. Calling Sklonda sometimes helps calm him down enough to accept meds, but even that has a 50/50 success rate at best.

Fabian is so so grumpy about being ill and just wants constant attention. His reaction is definitely made worse by the fact that last time he was this ill was during Leviathan and that is definitely triggering him even if he won't admit it.

Kristen is most complicated to deal with because she never got any vaccines as a kid and her immune system is already a little messed up from bringing herself back to life, so she needs near constant surveillance just to make sure nothing happens.

Adaine is a little miserable (being ill obviously isn't fun) but she's pretty happy to do her own thing and just occasionally asks for refills of tea. She's most often on watch for Kristen.

Lydia and Jawbone went over to Seacaster Manor because they were both pretty high risk for the illness, which left Sandra Lynn to try and deal with 6 quarantining teenagers, so as guilty as Sandra Lynn felt about Adaine not getting to just be a kid she was also really relieved that Adaine was able to deal with Kristen. (When Adaine is next ill, Sandra Lynn makes sure Adaine gets as much attention as she wants, which mostly just involves a lot of hugs).

Gorgug and Fig are somehow mostly asymptomatic and basically just get a couple of weeks off school. Gorgug is a little sad he can't access his workshop but otherwise he's fine. Fig gets so bored being stuck in the house though and is an absolute menace by the end. She wasn't even meant to go on their stupid project - they had just summoned her because they wanted to see her one evening, and now she had to quarantine even though she wasn't ill.

Riz was the wild card in all this because goblins usually dont catch the same illnesses humanoids do. Their biology is different and their body temperature is much lower than humanoids so stuff that can infect his friends won't be able to survive in him. This one actually making him sick means its a dangerous cross-species infection so he really cant go home or his mom will be in danger. That being said, goblins when they get sick will have their body temperature spike to insanely high levels to try and burn the infection out.

He was hiding his initial symptoms (he's not at home and not safe so when he would usually go lie down he just kept pretending to be normal because instincts) and they only realised he was sick too when he straight up started fever halucinating and collapsed (he was arguing with a wall in goblin and looked straight up possessed). Sklonda had to leave his medication in the mailbox so she wouldnt get close because the main pharmacy doesnt stock stuff for goblins.

Riz got way more cranky about the whole situation because they were keeping him in the main room to monitor him when all he wanted was to go find a small enclosed space to curl up and recover or die. Unfortunately for him Sandra Lynn knows where all his hiding spots are and when he sneaks off she drags him out of them hissing and biting (she has big thick gloves that even baxter cant chew through). He'll calm down if deposited next to Fabian, but only after the fighter has recovered enough that he's not coughing constantly. The loud noise hurts his ears.

Fabian recovered pretty fast but he definitely has the 'man flu' version of the illness. He's a half elf theyre generally pretty healthy. Riz was the one mostly looking after him while he was sick-sick because despite being pissy about being in quarentine he still has a soft spot for him. Looking after him mostly meant letting him cuddle because Riz was still nice and cool at that point, the goblin was just sitting there working on their report with Fabian using his lap as a pillow. They didn't think Riz was actually even capable of getting this illness until he passed out, he was just locked in with them just in case, so he wasnt being very careful about not getting sick.

Adaine and Kristen are doing okay in Adaines room. A couple days of rest were all they both needed and Kristen was able to start helping her friends recover. She keeps having to cast greater restoration on Riz to remove exhaustion levels because despite actually wanting to he's not getting deep sleeps because of the noise and not being home.

Fig and gorgug churn out an entire quarentine album. The concert for it is held over a livestream in the spirit of the thing.

[korithefox]

More Flipside spoilers. Fuck off im gonna talk about this stupid game as much as i want /lh

While we agree that all the endings sucked, i was thinking about Jeffery's death in particular and how the lead up to it was completely out of character for both him and Nicole

Let's start with Nicole: she wouldn't have even considered, let alone asked, to get involved with selling her feet to weirdos in the internet, especially if she knows that Jeffery is one of them. Now we know that sex work isn't completely out of the question for her. She sucked dick for drugs in the Re-Up because she was homeless and getting a "normal" job didn't work out. But thats the thing: she didn't have much of a choice. She was doing what it took to cope with her circumstances and have a roof over her head every night. But in the Flipside, she was still living at home and had her own income by stealing and reselling stuff on Ebay. In that case, there is no amount of money high enough that would get her to sell her body. Not to some old man like Jecka's dad, and definitely not to Jeffery of all people.

Speaking of Jeffery, hes fucking weird. That's nothing new. And it's no surprise that he gets off from being degraded by girls he likes. He'll put up with a lot of shit for sexual gratification. But he's also not completely socially blind. He's a dumbass but he knows when he's being bullied and whatnot. While going along and doing stupid shit because Nicole called him a "good boy" is 100% up his alley, i personally think he'd be too smart to let it go as far as it did. He puts up with a lot but he still has his limits. Consider how dismissive he was of Emily and Nicole when he started dating Karen in the Re-Up, and especially how he talked to Nicole and Jecka when they were trying to bully him at the beginning of the Flipside. It shows that he'd matured and realized he doesn't need fake validation from people who don't like him to be happy. He wouldn't do a full 180 on that principle and let Nicole overdose him on Robitussin and whatever else just because she took her shoes off and made his dick hard once

It feels like the first 2 games gave us a set of characters and established their traits, and while not necessarily realistic, they were believable, relatable, and entertaining. Then the Flipside comes along and turns the most well-known of those traits up to 100 just for the hell of it, to the point where the characters being assholes isn't even funny or clever, they're just assholes for the sake of being assholes. They took what we loved about the characters and completely overdid it so that they aren't even 3-dimensional, complex individuals anymore, but rather objects to create borderline pornographic content with that very obviously would've been hated if they (the devs) had taken even a second to look at the type of audience the first 2 games had garnered

The Flipside had so much potential to be an awesome game, but it was ruined by the decision to turn its beloved characters and world into one big piece of "technically legal" fetish art

[thelilylav]

We only see each other at funerals

(On Jason, Thalia, Nico, Bianca, and their parallels/connections)

The Titan's Curse (Rick Riordan), @/anxiousmaya_, Right Now (Gracie Abrams), The Battle of the Labyrinth (Rick Riordan), Joan of Arc (Mary Gordon), The Lost Hero (Rick Riordan), Episodes Toward and Elegy for Halley's Comet (Lindsey Drager), Jason Grace (Riordan Wiki), The Gods Show Up (Michael Kinnucan), The House of Hades (Rick Riordan), What the Living Do (Marie Howe), The House of Hades (Rick Riordan), Planet of Love (Richard Siken), The Blood of Olympus (Rick Riordan), Tangerine (Nolune), The Blood of Olympus (Rick Riordan), The Blood of Olympus (Rick Riordan), I Bet On Losing Dogs (Mitski), The Burning Maze (Rick Riordan), @/abhorarchive (Twitter), The Burning Maze (Rick Riordan), Seventeen (MARINA), The Burning Maze (Rick Riordan), @/rollercoasterwords, The Tyrant's Tomb (Rick Riordan), @/the-overanalyst, Where Things Come Back (John Corey Whaley), Grit (Silas Denver Martin), Softcore (The Neighbourhood), The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), Frost (Mitski), @/moonbends, I'm Your Man (Mitski), Sun Bleached Flies (Ethel Cain), The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), Three (Sleeping At Last), My Art

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

comparing elia martell to princess diana is kinda insane

cause the real princess diana of westeros was rhaegar

[transmascutena]

thinking about how akio sees his younger self in utena and wondering if there's any fondness there. doesn't change the horror of what he does to her obviously but i do wonder