#that it was going to be harder for everyone else in the family and that I needed to be understanding

[insidekatmind]

Deal-Cho Sang-Woo

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

Cho Sang-Woo didn't feel guilty about ending the lives of most of his teammates. While Gi-Hun, his childhood friend, had shown a sense of compassion and had given up the money he had won to donate it to the families of the dead players., Sang-woo wasn't happy that he gave up the money, causing him to lose too.. The next months were filled with attempts to regain his financial stability, but he failed, as usual. That was until he received a card, the same one that had invited him to the ‘Squid Game’ a year ago.

This card was different. It was black, with golden figures unlike anything he had ever seen. Sang-Woo studied it, wondering whether it was worth reaching out to them again. His desperation pushed him to make the call. What they offered him left him in disbelief: they didn’t want him as a player, but as a guard. The message explained that he had been under secret surveillance by the organizers and that they believed he was suited to participate in the game from the other side, in the highest rank.

Sang-Woo returned to the island, now in a new role:his mask bearing the symbol of a square. Everything had changed. He had access to things he never had before. As the games began, he couldn’t help but notice Player 424:you. Sang-Woo was sure that you were destined to win these games.

It was a night like any other, and you, like everyone else, were condemned to live in constant fear and hope. The games of Squid Game had turned each day into a fight for survival. Yet, that evening something strange was happening. When they were escorting you to the bathroom, one of the guards stopped you and ordered the others to leave you alone.

You had never seen this particular guard before, but his appearance left no doubt: he was one of the highest-ranking, with the square mask indicating his position. His face was emotionless, but you knew he wasn’t there for a simple check-up.

"424," he said, his voice filtered through the mask, as the bathroom door closed behind you. "We need to talk."

His words hit you like a sudden blow. The tone was authoritative, but also curious. It wasn’t a request; it was an order. You felt vulnerable, but also trapped in the situation. You had no choice but to listen.

"You’re not like the others," he continued, his voice now harder. "I’ve been watching your behavior. Your determination. I... I can help you."

He paused for a moment, as though weighing every word he was about to say. You, unsure of what to expect, waited in silence, trying not to show your fear.

"These games aren’t just a test of survival," he finally said. "They’re a test of corruption. And I’m willing to make you win, if you accept my conditions. You just need to follow the rules. Because this time, those inside the game can also control it."

His gaze, hidden behind the mask, seemed even more threatening. You knew this proposal wasn’t free; something was about to change drastically. You had heard stories of alliances, betrayals, and deceptions, but never of someone willing to put everything on the line like this. Your life, as always, depended on a decision.

"Do you accept?" he asked, his voice low and relentless.

It was a difficult choice, but you knew this could be your only way to win. The question hung in the air, and you, aware that time was not on your side, answered in your own way, ready to find out just how far you'd go in the heart of the game.

You look at the guard in surprise. "What do you want in return?" you whisper. The guard's gaze was fixed on your face. Even though you couldn't see his expression through the mask, you could feel his satisfaction with your immediate question.

He moves closer to you, touching your lip with his thumb.“Nothing but your total loyalty.” He replied in a firm but calm voice. "Total obedience." he continues to say as he continues to play with your lip “and you give me pleasure ” he whispers possessively.

Before you has the opportunity to respond, he grabs you by the hips and pushes you against the sink. He was now standing in front and between your legs, bringing his body even closer to yours. You could feel his heat through his clothes, as his gaze remained glued onto your face.Sang-woo leans down and whispers in your ear. "You'll do what I say and I will get you out of this game. Simple enough to understand."

You nod at his words. "To be clear, what do you mean by 'that I have to give you pleasure'?" you whisper. He chuckles at your question, still having your body pinned down against the sink. "I like how your mind works right away." He starts to play with the hem of your shirt, his fingers lightly brushing against the skin of your abdomen.

His voice was barely a whisper, but you could feel the heat of his breath against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine."When I say that you have to give me pleasure, I mean every type of pleasure I decide." He runs his nose across your neck, breathing you in.

He lifts his mask.Sang-woo slowly starts placing soft kisses along your jawline, moving his lips to your ear, his touch leaving a trail of hot, tingles on your skin. He takes your earlobe into his mouth, licking and biting lightly before continuing to whisper."You'll give me anything I want. Any type of pleasure I need." He says against your ear, his words both a statement and a demand.He moves backwards, giving you a little space. You could see his eyes staring at you from behind the mask. He reaches up and slowly starts to lift the mask from his face.

You're left speechless for a moment, as you see his face for the first time. He's beautiful, there is no denying it. His features are sharp, yet oddly delicate. He has soft brown eyes that are staring at you with such intensity that you feel frozen in place, his gaze pinning you down more than his body ever had.

Sang woo reaches for your chin, making you look up at him. He slowly presses his thumb against your lip, almost like he was trying to memorize the feel of your skin. "Do we have a deal then?"

He asks slowly, his voice now clearer without the mask.Sang-woo leans his face down even closer, his eyes fixed on yours. He looks almost predatory, but you can also feel a hint of excitement within his gaze.His hand was still holding your chin and he gently caresses your cheek, his touch unexpectedly tender.

“Yes,” you whisper, looking at him, taking in his face. He nods, still looking at you intently. A small sly smirk appears on his lips as he hears your agreement.

"Good," he says, his voice still a low, husky whisper.He runs his hand down your neck, his fingers trailing over your collarbone and down your chest. His touch is light but possessive, as if he was marking you as his property.Sang-woo moves even closer to you, his body pressing against yours.His hand is on your side now, slipping under your shirt and against your skin. You can feel the heat of his touch as he starts to move further up."I'm going to enjoy having you." he whispers, his voice a mix of excitement and satisfaction.His lips brush against your neck again, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin.

You moan softly and cling to him. He hums against your neck in response, feeling your hands holding onto him. He seems pleased with your reaction and becomes even more bold, his kisses turning into soft, gentle bites along your skin. His hand that was on your torso moves even higher, sliding over your stomach and then back down, his touch leaving a trail of tingles on your skin he explores your body.

His fingers dig into your waist, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you even closer. His body is flush against yours, the heat of his skin mixing with yours.He continues to kiss and bite along your neck and jawline, each touch leaving you even more breathless. He starts moving lower, his mouth tracing a path down from your neck to your collarbone, and then down to your chest.

He pushes your shirt up a bit as his lips find the exposed skin. He pauses to look at you, his eyes now dark with desire. He then moves back to your neck, his teeth gently biting your earlobe before he speaks."My pretty thing..." he whispers, the possessive tone clear in his voice. He pushes a leg between yours, his thigh pressing against you.

You moan again looking at him. He can see the lust in your eyes as he looks back at you, his own gaze equally intense. His leg is still pressed between yours, and he leans in to whisper in your ear again."You like this, don't you? The way I touch you, the way I claim you as mine?" He says, his voice a low, gruff purr against your skin.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat as he presses closer, his body fully against yours. His thigh presses against you even more, and he chuckles softly at your reaction."Good," he whispers, his hand sliding up to your jaw, turning your face towards his. "Because I'm going to take you completely. Every inch of you."

You moan, clinging to him even tighter. He leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His hand grips your chin tightly as he kisses you hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth. His body presses against you even tighter, his thigh still rubbing against you.

You moan into the kiss, moving your hips for more friction. He feels your movement, and he growls against your lips, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. Sang-woo moves his hand down towards your hip, gripping you possessively and guiding your movements. He wants you desperate and needy against him.

His kiss becomes rougher, his tongue teasing yours, as he pushes you more firmly against the sink. With every movement of your hips, he increases the pressure between your legs, his own arousal growing. He breaks the kiss, panting against your mouth."You're mine," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. "All mine."

"Yours, all yours" you murmur near his lips and then kiss him again. He kisses you back hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hand moves up your thigh. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your skin possessively, as he presses you even harder against the sink.

"That's right," he growls against your lips. "You're mine, and I'm going to take you every way I want." He starts to push your shirt up, wanting to feel more of your skin against his. His hand skims over your hip and then moves to your stomach, his touch light but confident. He continues to kiss you, his mouth moving down to your neck, and then your shoulders as he starts to undress you even more.

He finally pulls away, his gaze roaming over your body, taking in every inch as if he was claiming it as his own. His breathing is heavy, his eyes still filled with desire."You're beautiful," he whispers, his hands tracing over your body, his touch possessive and firm. "So soft, so mine."

He pushes you against the wall, pinning you there with his body. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks."I'm going to own every part of you," he growls, his voice low and rough. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget who you belong to."

He pulls down your sweatpants and panties and then pulls down his sweatpants and boxers and then enters you and grunts seeing how tight you were. He pauses for a moment, feeling how tight you were. He gently grabbed your ribs with his strong waist and strong touch. He pressed hard against your body and his breathing became heavier. His lips left your ears and moved to your neck and shoulders. He moved away from your neck and rested his head on your cheek. you can feel it.

Sang-woo whispers "Mine" and his hand squeezes tighter around your ribs. "All mine" he mumbles again and he starts kissing your neck while continuing to move with you. You moan, scratching his back from the pleasure you were feeling. "So good".

“Mmm,” he hums softly at the feeling of your nails scratching his back. He lifts his head from your neck, wanting to look at your face.His eyes dark and lustful as he stares at you, taking in the expression on your face as he continues to move rough with you."You're so good to me," he whispers. "So perfect."

You moan softly and look up at him before capturing your lips with his. He deepens the kiss, his hand sliding up to your face as he kisses you back hungrily. He pushes closer to you, pinning you against the wall as he continues to move with you. His body feels hot and strong against yours, and his grip is tight and possessive.

Sang-woo pulls away slightly, his lips hovering near your ear. His breathing is heavy, and he can't help but let out a soft moan, his enjoyment obvious."You're so good," he whispers. "So sweet."His hand slides from your face down to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he continues to move.

“I’m coming” you whisper looking at him. He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense, and his grip on you tightens.

"Come for me," he whispers, his voice a low, rough growl against your ear. "Let me feel how good you are." He starts to move a more faster, his body pressing against yours."That's it," he whispers. "You're doing so well for me."

You moan and he comes, clinging to him more. Sango woo pushed himself two more times and came inside you. He let out a low moan as he finally let go, his body trembling against yours.Sang-woo held you close, his face burying in your neck. His breathing was ragged, and he leaned into you, his grip on you still tight.“You’re amazing,” he murmured against your skin. “Absolutely perfect.”

You give a lazy smile resting your head on his chest. "May I know your name?" You murmur softly. He hums softly, his hand slowly moving up and down your back.

"It's Cho Sang-woo," he says softly, a slight smile on his lips. "But you can call me Sangwoo." He gently lifts your head up so that you're looking at him.

"And what's your name, darling?" he asks, his voice now softer and a bit more tender. “Y/N” you reply softly.

"Y/N," he repeats softly, as if testing it on his lips. "That's a pretty name."

He reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear."I want to hear you say my name, Y/N," he whispers, his eyes dark and intense as they locked with yours. "Can you do that for me, darling?" he continues, his voice low and seductive. "Say my name, just like I'm yours."

You nod softly looking at him. “Sang-woo,” you whisper. He hums, a satisfied smile playing on his lips."That's it." he murmurs, his fingers tracing lightly along your jawline. "Good girl. I like the way my name sounds on your lips."

[overnightheartbeats]

She only rolled her eyes at his comment, not even worth addressing. Though, the roll of her eyes also communicated her growing annoyance and anger at his lack of a reaction. On the contrary, he was amused? That didn't make any damn sense.

"I don't need to be queen of the university to tell you that you just don't belong. Honestly if you weren't glued to my roommate, I wouldn't even know of your existence. That's how irrelevant you are." It wasn't intentional, her emphasis on my, but she couldn't help it. "Oh, don't act dumb! You know who I'm talking about. Laurel!" Still, as she spoke, she just sounded like a petulant child who wasn't getting her way. And, that really was her right now. Just a child throwing a tantrum. "Unless you already forgot about her," and that, kind of perked her up. Because, if so, maybe she won't have to do all this. "Maybe because you already got what you wanted from her." Laurel hadn't shared anything with her, but she overheard her gushing to her friend. It didn't take much to guess what had happened between them.

"Oh, you didn't say it," humorless laughter followed, flashes of all her classmates going on and on about him filled her mind. "Just everyone else. Like you're god's gift to this stupid fucking place." Laurel raved about him, so did everyone she met. Jenny was sick of it. She completely ignored his quip about Laurel's free will, instead just shaking her head at him. "You're below so much, you're not even close to us," she scoffed at his words. Did he really have such a naive view, just because he didn't come from money? Such a fairytale notion. It's not like Laurel was high up there, not the way Jennys's family was, but she was distinguished enough, she supposed. "I just care about her! In a way you can't understand. I'm here for the real deal, not some college hook up. You're just messing this whole thing up!" Jealousy was not easy to hide.

Her frown deepened at his refusal, a simple no and it had her riled up. "I don't need to ask you for a favor. Just need to get you out of the way, really." Jenny was just talking out of her anger, and had no concrete ideas as to how any of this would work. But, ideas would come soon enough. "No? You're going to regret saying that to me. I'll make her see, just how much of a wrong choice you are. Not worth more time than she has already given you. She's just dazzled by you now, but all things lose their shine. Sooner or later."

Laurel had just finished drying off her hair when she opened his bathroom door. She almost called out to him to ask about dinner ideas when she overheard muffled voices. It didn't make much sense to her, but as she stepped out of his bathroom, the voice became clearer. Jenny? It was her voice, but the things she was saying just didn't match the person she knew. She was quiet as she stepped closer to him, tapping his shoulder to silently ask what was going on? She had heard enough, however. Eli being the wrong for choice was absolutely ridiculous. But, that wasn't what infuriated her. It was the way she was expressing herself about him, and the fact that Eli wasn't saying anything either.

Laurel turned to look at him, confusion washing over her, before she wiggled in between him and the door. Her hair was still damp and a mess when she faced Jenny. Her features were a blend of annoyance and anger, something her roommate was quick to catch on to, because before Laurel even spoke up, Jenny was stuttering and trying to bring in some context to her earlier hateful words. "I...thought you were spending the long weekend at your dad's," she cleared her throat, trying to think of what else to say. "Well, no it's not what you think. I'm just," a nervous giggle fell from Jenny's lips as she tried bringing that sweet side back to the forefront. Harder than it sounded when the object of her sheer hatred stood right next to her. Damp hair, he was shirtless - it didn't take a genius to deduce. "I just, you know that overprotective friend conversation, I owed him that. It's nothing though." The story she was spinning really would only work if he didn't contradict her. And the chances of that happening were slim.

"Save it Jenny. I heard you and I can't stand here and have you spew all of this about him. He is one hundred times better person than you are, and just— you should go. I won't be back, find yourself a new roommate."

Eli chuckled out of amusement, clearly he wasn't even off put by her lame attempt at an insult. "You'd have bigger problems if you couldn't carry your own trash bags." Not that he truly would help her. He had no business with a bully. If he gave her the inch he was sure she'd barge in and make herself at home in his dorm trying to rip him a new one. But, still eyes were on her as she went on.

Surprised eyebrows knitted together as she told him to get lost. "Who died and made you queen of the university, last I checked I belong here. Just because you don't like doesn't mean you get to tell others if they belong or not. Stuck to her? Now, who do you mean?" At this point he was baiting her, he wanted her to be clear since digging her own grave would be her doing not his.

Eli laughed as he shook his head. "I never said I was all that. I'm just a normal human being minding their business. You're the one trying to disrupt that peace." he sighed and rolled his eyes. "It seems to me that you think I'm forcing her to be here. Laurel has got a choice and her own free will. Just because I didn't come from money doesn't mean I'm below you or her. Why do you care so much though is the question?"

"Hmmm that seems more like I'd be doing you the favor and I'm not in the business of doing that for you. So, no." He tried to be cordial given the many insults she had just given him but it was hard standing there taking it. Half of his head turned to see if Laurel had come out yet but also didn't want her hearing this given how much Jenny was talking out of her ass.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

If you've seen Werepapas, you must be just as baffled as everyone else during "that" scene, huh?

And if you didn't, trust me, you will.

I haven't been watching season six and, based on what I've heard about it, the only way I would ever watch it is if some form of payment was involved. However, I do know what scene you're talking about because I follow enough blogs to have seen the chaos.

For those who are a little more removed from the fandom, the new episode Werepapas just aired and, in it, Adrien's grandparents are akumatized via his amok rings. This is actually a nice bit of tension because we know that akumas can be overcome by talking it out instead of fighting, but we haven't seen what that looks like with the new butterfly holder. This episode provides a good way to show off what that looks like now, emphasizing how much harder it is to deal with Lila's manipulation and establishing that talking it out will not be as easy as it was in season four and five. It also gives Adrien a moment to shine as he obviously has to be the one to free his own grandparents since Marinette has no connection to them and you can't destroy the rings without killing him, right?

Right?

[Image description: Adrien's amok rings lying broken in Ladybug's hand. An akuma is coming out of them, but there is no feather]

Wrong! Let's just let Ladybug break the rings without consequences while Adrien is trapped in a trophy and left completely out of another fight with his family. That's way better story telling!

I know people are horrified by this and asking why Ladybug apparently didn't even try to find another way to free the akuma, but I'm just laughing because I called that she could probably do this months ago! Crocoduel logic fits the pattern! The rings probably had to be on fingers for the amok to go free or some similar bullshit.

Or maybe this is some new logic? Or maybe Adrien isn't a sentimonster after all! Or maybe Lila stole his rings offscreen/in the still unaired first episode! Who knows? Not me! The complete lack is logic is what makes it fun, though, right? Right?

Btw, since we're talking about Marinette and the rings, does anyone know how Marinette knows that the rings are Adrien's amok? Who told her? It wasn't Gabriel or Félix. Did it happen in the London special? Does she even know or was she only hesitant to break the rings because she knew how much they meant to Adrien? I honestly have no idea. I'm still not sure if she knows that he's a sentimonster since all she was canonically told was that Emilie randomly got pregnant after a long battle with infertility:

Félix: But even the best remedies couldn't seem to overcome their curse. (Marinette squints her eyes, immersing herself more in the story.) Félix: Until one day, the curious princess learned that she was expecting — (Both depict Emilie pregnant and Gabriel, with peacock feathers spreading on the background.) Félix: She was pregnant. (Marinette's eyes widen upon realization.)

And that Amelie also got pregnant soon after using the peacock:

Félix: The curious princess felt badly for her twin sister. So, she asked the tailor if he could do something for the good princess and the lord of war to have a child as well. (The scene switches to Félix, acting as Gabriel, talking to Kagami who is acting as Colt.) Félix: (as Gabriel) After much study, I have discovered a solution for you and your wife. But there will be a price to pay. You will give me your best knight to guard my future son. In exchange, I will lend you this magic amulet. It will allow you to give life to your dream and to control it. Kagami: (as Colt) Sorcery? Never! Félix: (as Gabriel) Well, it's up to you, of course. (Just as "Gabriel" is about to take back his offer, "Colt" chases after his hand and accepts this "sorcery" that "Gabriel" talks about, taking the Peacock Miraculous with him as well.)

Ah Miraculous, you never change. How a show for kids is so confusing is beyond me!

note this is all what I've picked up second hand so feel free to let me know if I got any details wrong

[11queensupreme11]

So I have a question? You know that song lyric “Would you still love me if I’m no longer young and beautiful?” By Lana Del Rey. Okay so I’m gonna give you a scenario I’ve been thinking about adding to my story (as a draft for the next interlude after I finish the next reaction chapter)

So it goes a little like this:

Let say Percy who was a goddess (like in the last ask) got cheated on by Cu and, in her despair, killed herself.

(This is just a draft but I do plan on starting the chapter with her suicide note to her children first. Then to each of the yans individually. And maybe a couple to the friends and family she made on the way. So like a note to Shiva and his wives, Adamas, maybe Hercules and Prometheus, and…Ra(surprise! 🤭) honestly, I plan on making his a mixture of kinda funny/sarcastic, but also nostalgic and sad.)

Everyone finds out of course. And Zeus, devestated by the loss of his favorite neice, incensed by the disrespect shown to the Greek Pantheon by the Celtic Pantheon, spurred on by his son, brothers, and pantheon’s devestation and righteous anger at Percy’s death, along with the Egyptian, Norse, Abrahamic,Hindu, etc. Pantheons’ anger with what Cu did, obviously, declare war. The heavens are split and in utter chaos as the two sides form and each side is gathering allies for the upcoming war (it’ll be known as the “The Divine Schism” later on.

So, as u can imagine, this results in a lot of death, a lot of emotions flying around, and it isn’t even just the gods fighting other gods. Or Percy’s children fighting her other children(wish she begged them in her letter not to do, but she’s gone now; and her children are just as unhinged as their dads) . It also causes the humans to fight too because she was friends with a lot of them and a lot of them blame the Celtic people for 1)encouraging the views that made Cu think it was okay to do that (which is hypocritical because they still believe or once believed and would have done the same thing just due to the time period they were raised/born into, but a lot of them liked Percy so she was the exception) and 2) for not trying harder to keep him under control back when he was still a human on Midgard (Papa Adam is REALLY disappointed).

ANYWAY!

At this point, the war has gotten bad enough that the Fates, the Morrigan, the Norns, and all the other gods and goddesses related to fate and destiny realize that sooner or later the gods are going to end up fighting each other into extinction (with the humans in Vallhalla doing the same) and so they do some research (through their powers which were given to them by “the-Powers-that-Be” (which I actually mentioned in a chapter already but basically that’s the power that created them, their universe, and all the other universes that exist or will ever exist) and find out that, while Percy did die when she killed herself, for whatever reason, she didn’t end up going to Niflheim and instead got reincarnated into a different universe and nope🤭🤭it’s NOT the PJO universe. Which universe it is, I’m going to keep that a secret for now but I wouldn’t mind doing a poll to see which universe everyone would WANT her to be in. It might even help me decide. (just know it’s gonna be an anime universe. So either One Piece, Bleach, Naruto, or something else. It’ll have to be one I’ve read or watched before tho.) but it’s a secret, even to me, until I actually sit down and write this chapter.

Anyway, they find her reincarnated soul (in this I think I’m going to make it so that she only remembers SOME of her past life as a goddess and a demigod and it comes to her in her dreams) and, in order to stop the godly war that threatens the very foundations of their universe, they sit the Pantheons down (what’s left of them anyway) and tell them about what happened and where she is now. This, of course revitalizes the yans (ESPECIALLY CU!!!) because they see it as a second chance to get her back and make SURE she NEVER leaves them EVER again. (I’m talking they might actually lock her in a palace where they watch her every move 24/7 for the rest of eternity)

So they come up with a plan to basically kidnap her from this other plane. In this other universe tho, she’s lived a full, happy life. Sure it had some challenges (if she’s in One Piece I’m gonna make it so that she was Ace’s sister so she def fought in Marineford (love interest: Shanks), if in Bleach I’m making her the Captain of one of the divisions (Love interest:Sosuke Aizen 🤭🤭), if in Naruto ( I honestly can’t see her as an assassin/killer which is literally all ninjas are trained to do when u get to the crux of it so maybe like a political figure of peace? A daiymo maybe? Idk I’d have to figure it out (love interest: Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha, or Madara Uchiha depending on what time period I want her to be reincarnated into)

I plan on having her influence a lot of stuff, fall in love, have children with said Love Interest, and be an old lady by the time they start looking for her ( might have to write this in three parts since I do want to dedicate a chapter to her life in that other universe).

I’m still trying to figure out all the logistics since I want it to be believable and not just super random and unorganized because there are a lot of moving parts.

But my question to u is what do u think the yans will think (at this point in time) or do about an old, grandma version of Percy? Will it matter to them? She won’t be the same Percy at this point. She might remember some things about them but for the most part she won’t remember them and tho she might have the same morals as the last Percy, because of the stuff she went through in this new universe, she isn’t just physically different (old) but mentally too.

EVERYTHING HERE IS PERFECT BUT I JUST HAVE ONE CORRECTION:

"while Percy did die when she killed herself, for whatever reason, she didn’t end up going to Niflheim and instead got reincarnated"

it's niflhel!!! niflhel (or oblivion, nonexistence, whatever) is where all gods and mortal souls (after dying in the afterlife) go to when they die!

anyway.................

AIZEN SOSUKE????????? AND KAKASHI????????????

dude i genuinely don't know who to vote for, kakashi has been my anime crush SINCE I WAS A LITTLE GIRL, and aizen's so fucking daddy too omg why would you make us pick between them that's so cruel 😭😭😭😭😭😭

as for your question, age wouldn't matter much to them cuz they can just forcefully revert her back to her prime or back to whatever age/appearance they last saw her as!

the issue is the mentality 😞 if she's too different (like if she's not the same sweet, cheery, uwu, and infuriatingly annoying and troublesome girl that they know, then they might actually feel defeated. it's percy.... but at the same time it's not THEIR percy

tbh they'd probably try to find a way to revert her back to the percy they know, but if that doesn't work or they can't do it, then it's back to despair and anger 💀

[turtleblogatlast]

Don’t think I ever quite said what my LGBTQ+ headcanons are for the boys, so these are my current thoughts! Always changing of course but this is what I feel most strongly right now.

[pain-is-too-tired]

As someone who does think Octavian is over hated i think this missing a few points

1. The monsters on Octavian side weren't actually on his side. They literally turned on the Roman's as soon as they could. Everyone else knew immediately the monsters weren't there out of loyalty or allyship. So to a bunch of teens who have an army at their border, having said army have soldiers that you know aren't entirely loyal to the leader gonna make you call it out. Especially with how The Cyclops, nature spirits and others are allies and kin to chb and have been for awhile now. Octavian was grabbing anyone he could without considering who they were and if they actually care about their comrades. He reinstated a guy who he knows has killed his own in cold blood.

2. In relationship to that. Camp Jupiter might seem put together, but it sucks. I'm sorry you're never gonna see me praising a camp that turns it's children to obedient soldiers who fight eachother for higher positions and fill rampant with corruption. Again. A guy killed likely encouraged by this rising up mind set. Not saying writing wise it wouldn't ever been like this(it very much parallel to actual ancient Rome where assassinations were a fav passtime/hj) but I don't think it should be seen as good. Jason himself mentioned having cause stir for wanting to change things up. They are so strict on old ways and traditions, that old families and strong heritage gets you a head start in the way up. Why chb isn't a military based camp. Yes they train to fight, but primarily because they need to for survival, they aren't having heavy military training. You aren't forcefully stripped from your family(this is no hint that cj kids go to their mortal family much iirc) and there's no fight for power. The cabins are family more then they are barracks of some kind. They are similar to how Greece has city states. And it helps them organize based off strengths and traits. Your Head Counselor is typically someone you trust and look up to. They're mentors like an actual camp for teenagers would be. That's one the reasons Luke's betrayal hurt, he wasn't just their superior. He was their brother. Their mentor.

Also. Chb has Chiron who guides them and seen as a leader(even if he has problems sometimes but that's another thing-) and usually assist in planning and decisions.

CJ,despite having a WHOLE CITY FULL OF ADULTS RIGHT BESIDE THEM. Is still led by mostly children who, again, are drill to be obedient soldiers who can face horrid punishments if not in line. When Hazel vouched for Percy in SoN, both their lives were on the live if something happened. And again, CJ has full grown adults just living it up and sending their kids to this camp knowing full well what they'll go through. (No wander CJ has whole lot more exciles and crash outs- I'd snap too.)

3. Most Roman's hated the greeks before they even met them/knew that still around, the attack on new rome just gave them a reason to hate them more. Chb didn't even really think of the Roman's outside full mentions here and there of how they changed up the gods and myths. When we hear most complaints about Octavian(which, it's primarily about Octavian. Who, again gets too much hate in fandom, but he was blackmailing people and hating a whole group of people before they even actually gave him a reason to. They were saying graecus like it was a slur sometimes 😭) it's cause he's literally at their border with freaking catapults. And this is taking place not even a year after BoM the last thing they want is another battle with other demigods. Octavian is actively disobeying Reyna's orders, making things harder for the war against gaea, and not even his soldiers agree with him. He's demanding full loyalty out of nothing but rank and greeks don't vibe like that.

They aren't calling romans as a whole all these names. It's specifically Octavian. Who's the reason for extra stress on the camp why Gaea's close to awakening. They're calling him out for making dumb decisions and honestly acting like the trust fund kid he very likely is.

I hate how everyone at Camp Half-Blood gangs up on Octavian. Will Solace, Clarisse LaRue, Jake Mason, etc. They call him a barbarian. They call him a dirt wipe. And they're supposed to be the good guys!? No! If anything, they're just as cruel as him. Demonizing your enemies is usually what leads to a perpetual cycle of violence. No wonder Camp Jupiter and Octavian hate Camp Half-Blood, if they say stuff like this about them.

Also, Camp Jupiter has randomly assigned barracks (not segregation by godly parent like at Camp Half-Blood), and Camp Jupiter has their own fully functioning city-state in the form of New Rome! Now remind me: which Camp is so barbaric, hmm? Kind of looks like it's yours, you Greek demigods. So don't go throwing stones when you live in glass houses! You're extreme hypocrites!

And speaking of hypocrisy, you greeks have cyclopses fighting for you! And nature spirits! Octavian has two headed men and dog headed men with poleaxes; and suddenly he's the barbaric one!? You're both using outside help, help which is supernatural and (dare i say it) monstrous! You can't condemn one without condemning the other! And since I like Tyson and the cyclopses, we should really be condemning neither. But I just hate the hypocrisy of Camp Half-Blood!

[96z]

No offense but I fucking hate your generation. Everything is funny to you guys. Murder, 9/11, misandry, you fucking name it as long as you don’t like the person on the receiving end of it. There are children who are going to be without their father for Christmas and you’re making fan edits of him with your favorite kpop idol. You are sick and detached people and I pity your parents.

P.S: do you smoke weed bc if not you should try

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Words can't begin to describe how much I hate that he has to write this and has to deal with that lunatic again and has to play nice.

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent/grief

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[crows-of-buckets]

Its the middle of the night and instead of sleeping I keep thinking about Aviae and Anders's dynamic ougaggga

[todayisafridaynight]

I may just be delirious but I kind of feel like there's something there about some of the most traumatic events in Arakawa's life arguably stemming from/being made worse by being loved too much.

Like, Toshio's death, right. The death of a parent is always always going to be traumatic, particularly when your other parent is abusive, but I feel like being there, being the first to the scene, made it so much worse. Especially when it should've been a good memory.

Non-zero chance I'm just projecting because I was there for my own father's death and I was around Arakawa's age at the time, but it's like... it did have very specific life-long effects, didn't it... the way he keeps coming back to Peking duck and talks about it like he's had it before when he can't even bring himself to eat it unless he's with family (and indeed, never did, up until right before he died)...

And then there's his former patriarch. Of course, he seemed to see Arakawa as more of an object--fully under his control and something to be thrown away at the first sign of autonomy. But I feel like, before then, Arakawa must've been his "favorite," if he was willing to arrange a marriage between his daughter and Arakawa. Which I expect is what made his reaction when Arakawa told him he was (technically) having an affair with Akane and wanted out of the family that extreme in going as far as to send men after Akane and Ichiban.

The last one I can immediately think of is not exactly traumatic for him, though it is traumatic For Me so I'm counting it, but it's of course what we were talking about with Jo hesitating so much at the thought of killing Arakawa that he passed up the chance to save him.

I Dunno I Am Delirious but... there's a pattern somewhere in there... Anyway. Uh. "Happy" Father's Day am I right

happy fathers day :]]]]

[randomaj]

..

[a-commas-a-pause]

I wish I had status effect indicators sometimes. Like if I'm feeling like crap or I have a headache, I wish I could just open a little console and read it and it would say "hydration low: 20%" or something in red and I'd be like "cool!" and drink some water.

Like. There's no big overarching mystery here. I know all the causes/stressors that make me feel like this in the broad, general sense. But that's no good to me when I'm trying to address this headache specifically.

[timmydraker]

Tim begins to distance himself from his family after Damian becomes Robin.

It was obvious in the way he ran off to rescue Bruce, but that was more of a physical thing at the end of the day. He was desperate and had lost any kind of safety net and support he had after Dick threatened Arkham and how badly he hurt Alfred with his instance that Bruce was alive.

Either way he was going to get Bruce back, if not because he felt like he was an aimless, nothing human being without Batman then there was that he wanted to be believed.

Then Dick handed over Robin to Damian who at that point genuinely despised Tim, though there was also a level of jealously in the young Wayne’s mind at the intelligence and analytical Tim.

It was then that Tim decided he would bring Bruce back and then do his own thing, outside of Robin and outside of Batman.

He clearly had done his job hadn’t he? Sure Bruce was dead, but Dick was acting as Batman and that Batman had a Robin, so his reasoning for being Robin was extinguished.

Tim brings Bruce back and the older man praises and thanks him for several days and then, like everything else, the attention moves away. It goes to him connecting with Damian on a vigilante level and catching up on the last several months of him being ‘dead’. It goes to Jason who, now that he’s lost his foster father has decided that maybe he could try a little harder after all.

It goes to everyone and anyone other than Tim and this time? That’s actually the plan.

Tim isn’t as good of a hacker as Barbara, but she’s basically a god at it so compared to others he might as well be master level, just not against her. This he uses to shift around peoples schedules so Alfred has no choice but to let him go to school on his own (Tim may have also invented an early morning ‘club’ that was totally legit and not at all a fabrication). He makes it so when Dick is over or Jason takes the rare opportunity to visit he had to work at WE or DI, something important he can’t neglect.

He never has to walk Ace or Titus because he’s busy with his team mates.

Team mates who think he’s busy helping out Batman.

Tim still does work as a hero, but it’s entirely through his businesses after a while. A few times he has no choice but to go out in a boring black suit with a full face mask and hoodie. It’s got nothing on it, no symbols or gadgets. Nothing to connect him to anyone.

He starts with the homeless, dishing out vaccines like candy without even doing a campaign to showcase it.

Then he changes Bruce’s rather naive approach to orphanages and makes it so every single child who is put through is given a small amount of funding. He makes it so kids have more chance to stay with siblings, makes sure everyone who even so much as enters the ground of a orphanage have a real background check and sure the adoption rate drops, but so does the missing kids and DV cases.

Tim steals over fifty million from people like Luther and Penguin and all kinds of corrupt rich assholes for the majority of the funding and not even a cent of it is traced back to Wayne or Drake businesses. Whiles he’s digging into Lex be manages to get enough evidence to put a sizeable dent in his reputation, even if Lex manages to smooch a fair bit of it back.

He’s manages to take out a large sized trafficking ring and helps get the victims into a real recovery home that he hand picks out security for.

Later, as in a few days afterward, he discovers a dog meat farm and everyone medical veterinary student suddenly finds themself free of student loans and debt and with multiple work opportunities available and volunteer work being down right pleased for.

Tim knows he’s being noticed but given that he basically lives in his office in the heart of the city, he isn’t there to hear his old teammates and ‘family’ talk about the mysterious Dread.

Dread who was named that after a report came out about a theory of an unknown hacker or ‘cyber vigilante’ who was stealing money and information from rich folk and giving it to the poor, giving all of the 1% dread that he would hit them next.

The exact quote was ‘Those with money deeper than their pockets dread the hackers next moves. And they should feel that dread as a warning for this Robin Hood like legend seems to be getting braver.’

Dick was sure the hacker would have been called Robin if he hadn’t chosen that name already, to which Barbara responded with grumbles and growl because she couldn’t find anything other than holes and traps left by the hacker. It was like they knew her every move before she even made it!

Tim, obvious to his growing reputation until it fully took off, hadn’t even considered that his actions would be framed a threat by Batman. He would say it was because he didn’t think Bruce would ever really target him like that, but in actuality it’s because he knew Bruce was one of the few good rich folk. Surely he would be on the side of a secret vigilante hacker trying to use horrible people to do good? He embraced Dread quickly and was happy he make the rich squirm and brought a sense of hope to people, it was just like Robin but instead of them being safe and given light they were given a peace of mind in a mix of revenge and justice.

What Tim doesn’t know is that Bruce is still too far into his whole image of black and white, good and evil, that he tends to forget there’s grey areas.

At least Jason is on the side of Dread, even if he still thinks the myth of a story is just that, a myth.

It’s when Tim blows up a bank when everyone has gone home for the night just so people will find the underground money ring that and he visits the manner to get a few things that he hears them talking about it.

By that point it’s been around two years since he dropped Robin and as usual Dick always greets him with a look of a desperate puppy, “Tim! Hi, you’re here. I haven’t seen you in months, how have you been?”

Tim smiles at Dick even if he hasn’t gotten over his anger at his oldest brother and moves to sit at the breakfast table with everyone (Alfred, Bruce, Jason and Damian).

“Good. Busy, we’ve had a lot of donations lately.”

Jason snorts, “No shit. Isn’t Wayne Enterprise one of the few ones not hit by Dread?”

Bruce grumbles and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. They’ve managed to get into our system and completely changed the Jason Project.”

Jason grins and laughs happily, “you mean improved! Crime Ally is doing great now. Not the best, but still a fuck of a lot better.”

Smiling at the man who once beat him to an inch of his life, Tim takes a sip of his tea and casually says, “You’re welcome.”

The whole table goes quiet as Tim continues to casually sip his tea.

The silence carries for a total minute before Bruce puts down his cup and leans forward with a slight growl in his voice, “Explain.”

“Explain what?”

Bruce stands over his son even from halfway down the table and very obviously tries to calm himself with a deep breath, “What do you mean ‘you’re welcome’?”

Tim makes an ‘oh’ expression before cocking his head to the side in confusion, “I was the one who fixed the Jason Project? Wait, did you guys not realise I’m Dread?”

Damian shouts out a ‘what?!’ That makes Titus jump and Tim laughs under his breath, “What did you think I was doing?”

“Running the business! Not stealing from people and black mailing politicians!”

It’s Tim’s turn to growl now and he stands up himself with a glare at Bruce that is as close as any of them have gotten to the famed Bat-Glare, “Are you fucking kidding me? Like are you a Tully kidding me with that horse shit?”

Bruce looks stunned and Alfred doesn’t even tell him not to swear.

Tim slams his chair into the table.

“What the fuck else would I be doing, Bruce? I’m not Robin, that was taken from me, so what else was I gonna do? I finished my job, not only keeping you from killing anyone but bringing you back, so I had do pick something else. I’m not stealing from the rich, I’m stealing from selfish cunts who ruin peoples lives for no reason and giving it to people like Jason. So, don’t you fucking yell at me and don’t try to make me feel bad for this, not when I’ve done more in two years than you ever have and- don’t you fucking speak Dick, not when you were the one who took my place here away from me! Now, I have a trafficking ring I need to expose so good. Fucking. Day.”

Jason is the only one who follows him.

[oceantornadoo]

ch5 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: more mild dubcon groping and fingering

masterlist | next

It’s been a while since John Price woke up with a woman in his arms. He can’t say he hasn’t missed it.

Your skin is soft, the addicting smell of lilac radiating off you in waves. You’re tucked into the nape of his neck like a cat, curling the rest of your body around him like you’ve been doing this for years, not days.

Gaz was right. He’s fucked.

The penthouse bed is a King, taking up half of the room. The two of you went to sleep on opposite sides, a chasm between you, but in the late hours, you’d somehow met in the middle. He wasn’t going to force you to consummate the marriage. John Price is many things, but not a rapist. He figured you’d get to know each other a little, at least respect one another, before doing the deed in a clinical matter. If he needed sex, which he didn’t really, he could go somewhere else. 

Except since the night at his club, he hadn’t been able to think about any other thighs but yours. Any other pair of tits, glistening with sweat and alcohol. That terrible tramp stamp, his mark on you like he was your owner. He didn’t know what to make of it, but your continued proximity worsened the issue with each passing day. It was worrying to think it would get worse every time you woke in his arms. He’d have to manage; it’s not like he’d let you sleep in separate beds.

John probably should get out of bed and do his morning workout before you wake up. Except the moment he tenses his muscles, preparing to slip out quietly, you whine. A pitiful sound. Such a needy kitty, he thinks absently. You hitch your thigh higher around his hip, nuzzling into his neck forcefully. He doesn’t think you’re awake unless he’s in some alternate reality where you stopped hating him overnight. The physical touch is…nice. Something he hasn’t had in a while. Can’t remember the last time he fucked something that wasn’t his hand, let alone cuddled in bed.

His arm rests possessively over your hip, the other one free at his side. Taking a chance, he reaches up to brush the soft skin under your eyes. No rhyme or reason to it, pure instinct to touch the sleeping face of his wife. His wife.

Maybe he should sleep in a little more. It’s something Gaz is always nagging him on. A man’s due some rest on his wedding morning. With that decided, he shuts his eyes, his thumb still on your face. A part of him memorizes the feel in case you never let him that near again.

-

You wake to a harder pillow than normal. Your body tenses on instinct. There’s no way. You slept on opposite sides of the bed. Right?

“Before ya scream, I hav’ a proposition.” It’s him. Under you, over you, his hand on your waist like a chain. The feral part of you whines at his raspy morning voice, the overwhelming warmth of his body, his bare chest, and the morning wood that’s poking your thigh. Maybe that’s why you only say, “Ok.”

He doesn’t comment on your newfound timidness. His other hand is on your face, stroking the skin of your cheek absentmindedly. It practically lulls you back to sleep, and you must still be drunk to let him continue without a reprimand. “Clean slate. For today, a honeymoon period, and after tha’, friends. Or friendly, if friends is too hard to manage. ‘Ve got too much on my plate t’ worry ‘bout my wife poisonin’ me at breakfast.” Friends. When was the last time you heard that word? Everyone you know is family or enemy, no in between. Price was firmly in the enemy category, but you’re not naive enough to think that hasn’t changed.

Conceding to your contract amendments. Rescuing you in the garden. An annoying argument at the club, but also guaranteeing you were safe. Taking you for a break at your wedding, making sure you were fed and not on the verge of collapse. Not forcing you to consummate your marriage. Not caring if you weren’t a virgin.

It’s all the bare minimum shit you’d expect from a regular man, a regular boyfriend. But nothing about this situation is regular. You know tens of mafia men worse than John Price. Your father, to name one. One’s that would take advantage of you without a second glance, wouldn’t give a damn about your bookstore or thoughts on children. Your childhood indiscretions aside, John Price seems to be a good man. It’s not like he’s asking you to love him or anything else out of the realm of possibility. Friends is good. Friends can be married, have sex, raise kids, and still be friends. There’s an example out there, it’s just not coming to mind.

-

“You sayin’ you only want to be friends because you’re too busy? What a glowing vote of confidence.” He sighs against you. He should have worded it better, but your proximity is throwing him off. It’s making him think of lazy Sundays and discovering what’s under your silk pajamas.

John went into this thinking you were a brat, another entitled mafia princess. It’s clear you’re much more. Having the gall to negotiate your marriage contract and sticking firm with your business. He’s seen the love you have for Ghost and Soap; a deep-seated dedication he knows must not be easy with your family history. And of course, he can’t forget your drunk confession at the wedding. How you blame him for some stupid thing he said as a teenager. Under all your bravado, there’s clearly a hurt little girl. Some part of him, the part he thought died when he shot his first kill, wants a real marriage. A real partner. 

John’s got no clue if you’re willing to give him a try romantically, but it’s worth a shot to at least be friends. He needs someone to rely on that’s not Gaz or Laswell. Someone he can let his guard down around and not get shot by.

-

“I worded it wrong. Friends ‘cause tha’s the only way this will work. Friends ‘cause we’re both now livin’ with a stranger, an’ we migh’ parent a kid together. Friends and partners.”

“Frenemies.” You respond automatically, thrown by his admission. He squeezes your waist, and it’s a sullen reminder that you’re wrapped around him like an octopus. You move to unwrap yourself, but he holds you tight with a scary show of strength. “Friends.” He repeats firmly. You’ve already agreed in your head, but he has to work for it.

“Do friends give honeymoon gifts? I’ve been expecting a gift for putting up with you and have yet to see one.” His hand stops swiping over your cheek, and you can’t control the frown that emerges. He dips lower to press his thumb against your lips, pushing hard until it meets your teeth. It’s strange and sends a shock down your spine. “Friends an’ you’ll stop whinin’.” His voice is harsh, but it’s countered with how his hand now travels the length of your jaw, back and forth hypnotically. “Friends and we order breakfast.” Finally, he nods. That’s it. Friends.

John lets you escape to the bathroom while he calls room service. Even after using the toilet, brushing your teeth and splashing water on your face, you still feel off-kilter. Your skin is hot, hands trembling. A honeymoon period? What the hell does that mean? You hate how your core clenches at the thought of having a real honeymoon with him. It’s a terrible fact, but you’re attracted to your husband. And by how touchy he is, he’s clearly attracted to you. Clean slate. It’s barely taxing to forget your prejudices against him, tucked away in a far corner of your mind. You square your shoulders, giving yourself a nod in the mirror. Friends that are attracted to each other. Nothing to it.

When you walk back into the bedroom, John sits up in bed, the room service tray on the side of the bed. The sheets have fallen to his waist, giving you a view of his delicious upper half. He clearly works out, but not to the point where he’s a bodybuilder. His pecs and torso are hairy but maintained, the perfect combination. As you approach the bed, he gets up with alarming speed and snatches you off your feet, propping you in his lap. It’s terrible and you try to squirm out of it but his grip is too strong, pulling you in further. “Honeymoon period.” He growls in your ear, to which you finally settle down. Guess this is what he meant. At least you’re sitting sideways and not straddling him. You’d never recover.

“This is not friendly, John. I can’t reach the food this way.” All he does is hum, bending over the side of the bed to look at the spread before you. Waffles, pancakes, fresh fruit, yogurt, eggs, and scones call your name. “Open.” When you blink, there’s a piece of egg on a fork in front of your face. “That’s not-,” he doesn’t let you finish, shoving the food into your mouth the moment it opens. You moan at the taste, ignoring how he stiffens beneath you. “Oh my god, that’s the best scrambled egg I’ve ever had.” John picks at another piece, securing it on the fork, before turning back to you. This time, you open your mouth obediently, rolling your eyes when he takes longer than a second to reach you. “Hurry up, I’m hungry.” He shakes his head, eyes glinting with mirth. “Magic word?” You huff, turning hangry. You grab the fork, but he’s got unmatched reflexes, holding it high over your head with a raised eyebrow. The motion pulls at the rest of his face, highlighting his beard and wrinkles. It’s terribly attractive. In a friendly way.

“Please, John, will you feed me like the incapable adult I am?” Your words are dripping with sarcasm but it’s enough for him. You moan around the fork again, and you both politely ignore his half-chubbed cock under your thighs. The cycle repeats, John switching from eggs to waffles to fruit. It’s taken you nearly a half hour to eat but he’s so insistent it’s hard to say no. Every time you swallow, he acts like you’ve solved world hunger. It’s doing terrible things to your ego.

“You’ve hardly eaten.” You murmur. He shrugs, finally settling the fork down. That fork deserves to be thrown into a fire and never seen again. It’s a torture machine.

“I’ll eat now. Go shower an’ get ready.” You pull yourself off his lap and he let you, hand dragging across your skin until you’re completely out of his reach. “Nah, think I’ll sleep a bit more. This awful man was snoring all night.” He snorts and it’s so unbecoming you snort as well. He doesn’t dignify it with a response.

“Goodnight- hey!” Instead, he’s stolen the covers from under you. You did marry a manchild.

“Shower an’ get ready. Ya wanted yer honeymoon gift, ain’t tha’ righ’?” A gift? You might be determined that he’s an asshole, but you are not strong enough to turn down a gift. With all the money he spent on the wedding, it better be something good. “Fine.” An hourlong shower ought to set him straight.

-

Two hours later, you’re finally ready.

Your mission to annoy your husband is successful. He’s been huffing under his breath the last half hour, checking his watch and texting on his phone. He threw on a spare suit from the closet, looking immaculate despite the gun you watch him tuck into his waistband. 

Meanwhile, you take the absolute most time to do your makeup. In fact, you switch out your jewelry three separate times. He told you to dress casually but you also cannot trust the words of a man, so you slip on a sundress and grab a cardigan in case it gets cold. At least Aunt Riley packed you plenty of options in the bags that were sent up. Against your better judgment, you slip on a pair of lace underwear. For confidence purposes only. You forgo any shorts under.

“I’m ready!” He grunts, picking up your purse before you even have the chance to. “Finally. Driver’s been waitin’ fer twenty minutes now.” Well, now you feel bad. “I would’ve hurried if I knew he was waiting. Your fault for not telling me.” He shrugs, hustling you out of the room with a hand on your back. He guides you into the elevator, and although it’s demeaning and infantilizing, a small part of you warms. 

“Can’t take off work fer the week so this’ll be y’r one-day honeymoon. Sorry about tha’, sweetheart.” You shrug, tilting your body slightly so he can’t see you smile at the endearment. At some point this week, it’s turned from venomous to heartwarming, chipping away at your campaign against him. “It’s ok.” He rests his hand on your waist and for a heartstopping moment, he leans in. He’s about to kiss your forehead. You both realize at the same time, pulling away to opposite sides of the elevator so his hand drops. Luckily, the elevator dings. You don’t know what would have happened without it.

He warns you it’s a long car ride. You both sit in the back seat, opposite sides, and you slip off your sandals to curl up against the car door. Using your cardigan as a pillow, you watch him through heavy-lidded eyes. He makes phone call after phone call, his accent getting thicker with irritation depending on the caller. John speaks English, but he says so many code names and unfamiliar locations that it sounds like a different language. The comforting sound of it lulls you to sleep, dreamless and peaceful. When you wake up, there’s a mansion outside your window.

“Is this…” You freeze, taking in the sight before you. Is this your new prison? You were hoping to postpone your new reality a little longer. He shakes his head as he opens your car door, shooing the driver away. “‘S a friend’s, not mine. He’s lendin’ us a building f’r tonight.” A building? His friend must be some kind of royal. The grounds are sprawling and well-kept, sparkling in the warmth of the sunset. John leads you down a path through the gardens, and you walk slowly to take it all in. They’re all native plants, at the end of their blooming season. Their scents make the air thick, a natural perfume, and you sniff each one individually. John doesn’t rush you, stopping every time you do. You swear he’s hiding a small smile under the beard, but he looks away whenever you squint at him. Half an hour later, you make it to the building he’s been guiding you to. It’s an observatory, a rounded glass ceiling visible from the outside. The sun is fully set, and as the clouds clear, stars start winking at you. A perfect night.

“Don’t get impressed yet.” He murmurs to your awed face. Instead of explaining why, he presses a silver key into your hand. Even though you were cuddling this morning, the shock of his touch sends a shiver down your spine. Mistaking it for cold, he nudges you towards the door. It unlocks smoothly, revealing a small entryway. It’s bracketed by dark wood on all sides, with old and uncomfortable furniture. He keeps pressing you forward until you stop at a large door, curved at the top like in a castle. “Open it.” He says when you don’t move. Hand shaking, you turn the knob, and almost faint at what’s revealed.

“‘S a remake of-” 

“The Admont Abbey Library in Austria.” The world’s most beautiful library. Instead of being made for public use, this one is for comfort. 

There are two, no, three stories of books on every wall. Instead of a fresco on the ceiling, its glass, giving you a direct view of the stars. Books line every nook and cranny, surrounded by a lighter and more appealing wood than the one in the entryway. There are chairs and sofas every few feet, worn but well-loved. A few steps further reveal a fireplace with a mountain of chairs surrounding it, a place to invite friends to discuss books over tea. A large clock hangs over it, chiming at every hour. There are staircases and ladders to reach the books on high shelves, and a closer look reveals they’re ordered by subject. Books from centuries ago and recently purchased ones mesh together in a wonderful rainbow of colors. 

“You like it?” He’s still standing by the first couch, almost awkwardly. A mafia man in a full suit with his gun tucked into his waistband, and yet it seems a library is what makes him look small.

“John, it’s- I don’t even know what to say. It’s perfect. And all mine for a night?” He shakes his head at that in a confusing manner. “Not jus’ a night…” No.

“John Price, did you buy me a library?” He has the nerve to look ashamed, cheeks pinking as he tucks his hands into his pockets. “My friend’s quite old, can’t go up an’ down the ladders anymore. He’s givin’ it to ya fer free, ‘s long as ya don’t sell anything. Can come ‘ere whenever you like.” A library, just for you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You attack him with a hug. A friendly one, with your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. “Got it after th’ night in the garden. Figured I’d give ya a new home since I’m takin’ yer old.” A stray tear falls at his consideration. “Thank you.” You whisper this time, throat thick with more tears. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Go explore.” You nod, climbing out of his arms. His thumb reaches out to wipe away a tear and you let him, granting yourself a reprieve from the exhausting practice of hatred for one night. “Go’on.”

-

You explore for hours.

John makes calls from couches, occasionally walking around until he spots you. You’re like a kid in a candy store, running from shelf to shelf with a grin on your face. He was worried it was too much, but it seems to have finally cleared the air between you two. The phantom weight of your hug clings to his skin, a memory he can’t shake off.

He didn’t admit to you that this is his manor, the one he goes to when he needs to get away. The way you hesitated when getting out of the car with fear in your eyes was unbearable. He didn’t want this to feel like another gilded cage. There’s only staff around anyway, and they’re under strict instructions not to say anything. As far as he’s concerned, this whole building is solely yours.

When he’s finally done remotely managing a crisis at one of his clubs, he ventures off to find you. It’s near midnight now and the stars are shining bright under the glass ceiling. When he finds you on the second floor, you’re bent over a desk, reading while standing like you’re so enthralled you couldn’t be bothered to properly sit. It’s the most attractive thing he’s ever seen.

Bent over, your dress barely covers your ass. John takes a silent step back on the staircase and sure enough, he can see a black scrap of lace cupping your cunt. He thanks your aunt for not packing shorts.

“Givin’ a man ideas standin’ like tha’.” It escapes his mouth before getting permission from his brain. John blames the whiskey he found in between calls. You snap your book closed at the sound of his voice, turning around and standing ramrod straight. “I stand or sit in weird positions when I’m reading. You’ll have to get used to it.” Instead of answering, he approaches you until there’s only an inch of space between your chests. You don’t flinch, a show of trust. Ever the challenger, you tip your chin up until your eyes meet, defiance sending a rush of blood to his cock.

“Turn around.” You do. Slowly. The book you were reading is still clutched to your chest like a shield. “Show me how ya were standin’.” He steps back to give you room. To his disbelief, you comply, bending over until a bit of lace peaks out. “Read t’ me.” A rough finger reaches out, touching the edge of the lace separating him from your cunt. He traces the seam of it, the outline of your folds straining against fabric. John decides to push the limit as far as he can during this honeymoon day, to make you want him as much as he wants you.

“‘But strange and marvelous as she was, a wisp of silk in a forest of black wool, she was’- John!” His finger had slipped under your lace underwear. You were so wet, dripping over his hand, and he wondered if you got off on this more than he did. If this was one of your secret fantasies, fucking in a library. “Tell me t’ stop.” You’re silent, too proud to ask him to continue, but too desperate to ask him to stop. Unperturbed, he starts swiping up and down like he’s familiarizing himself with the feel of your cunt. “Go’on.” You take a deep breath and continue.

“‘Not the fragile creature one would have her seem. In many ways she was as cool and competent as Henry’- oh fuck.” He’d pressed his thumb against your clit, hard. “Feel good?” You nod, barely keeping your head above your shoulders. “If this was our real honeymoon,” he moved his thumb down to your fluttering hole, dipping it in lightly for emphasis. You drop your head down to the desk, exhaling harshly. “I’d-” Ding!

The clock struck twelve. The end of your honeymoon period.

John removes his thumb slowly, putting your underwear back in place with care. He kisses your back, over where your Sharpie marks are, before pulling back completely. “Driver’s ready whenever you are, sweetheart. No rush.” And he’s gone, walking down the staircase.

He’d only continue if you asked him to.

-

i hope this isn't moving too fast but i really wanted some fluff and smut. if yall couldnt tell, this was inspired by that scene from beauty and the beast.

also the semester is starting back this week so my posts will become less frequent, pls bear with me :)

fifty points to who can tell me what book she was reading!!!

-

@heretoreadanddrinktea

@peachyxrosie

@joufrance

@galactict3a

@exactlyyoungchaos

@trulovekay

@alleycc

@abox-of-rocks

@orangehibiscus

@mismatchsposts

@nova-willow-541

@throwing-up-butterflies

@grossitsluca

@evans-dejong

@popcornlauncher

@earthcole

@backfromthedeadhehehe

@baduzzxy

@thegreyjoyed

@cutelibrariangf

@dearghostling

@mrsmalfoy1005

@all-by-myself98

@snburntandsad

@baklovers

@rmikaelson01

@leon-thot-kennedy

@the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned

@barcelonaaababe

@brokenandemptyhearts

@sleep101

@ontopofthefridge

@lilynotdilly

@teenagellamaangel

@harperdoodle

@ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii

@violetisheresworld

@lolwey

@polyfandom-blogs 

@burrowedinnature77

@sharkerino

@ashy-kit

@aikojwhpa