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joequiinn · 6 months

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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1

[chap two] | [all chapters here]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao. Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol. I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.

(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)

wc: 3.9k

Chapter One

The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.

Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.

Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.

Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.

To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.

So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?

That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.

Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.

You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.

Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.

It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.

So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.

Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).

Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.

Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.

So… What did you want? What did you actually like?

It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.

Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.

So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?

Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?

You settled on four key things to keep in mind:

You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.

You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.

You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.

And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.

How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.

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The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.

You were going to sit at a new lunch table.

You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.

But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?

You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.

Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.

“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”

So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.

“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.

“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”

You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.

Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.

And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.

You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.

As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.

As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.

Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.

Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.

Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.

Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.

As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.

That’s when an idea began to form.

You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.

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In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).

You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.

You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.

So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”

Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.

But then the idea gave you pause.

You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.

But… maybe?

Shit, what a stupid idea.

Or maybe it was a brilliant one.

You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.

You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.

Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?

It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.

So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:

Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436

You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.

You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.

He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”

Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”

The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.

“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.

You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.

So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.

When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.

So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.

It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.

You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:

Picnic table behind the football field, 4.

God, what were you getting yourself into.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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knightofthenewrepublic · 15 days

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The Battle of Manhattan didn’t go the way the Fandom thinks it did; we need to address the “massacre” of the Titan Army!

The Battle of Manhattan is the most pivotal event of the first series. And we see the entire thing exclusively from Percy’s point of view. He takes us through the thickest of the fight from one end of Manhattan Island to the next, and shows us a desperate fight of good against evil.

But we have another point of view for the battle, one that comes from the demigods of the Titan army, and one that informs us of a far different, darker side to the conflict. One where an entire army of children is massacred by the victorious Olympians, without a thought or even a care. It’s a shocking, confronting side of the struggle that most fans don’t seem to be aware of.

But it’s also completely inaccurate.

Now I love Alabaster; he’s one of my favorite characters, and I want nothing but the best for him. But he’s a demonstrably unreliable narrator. I don’t even mean that he’s intentionally dishonest; but he’s very badly misinformed about what actually happened. And that gives the fandom three major misconceptions that need to be cleared up.

Alabaster gets the casualty ratio for the battle wrong (the Olympians had more than he thinks).

The Titan army has far fewer demigods than most fans think (not much more than 50 at the most).

Alabaster does say that there was a “massacre” at the end of the battle, but most of the TA demigods had deserted before that!

Part 1) The Olympians Have High Casualties

“It was a massacre. If I remember right, my mother told me that Camp Half-Blood and its allies had sixteen casualties total. We had hundreds.” (pg 219)

This is the only time we get a specific number for Olympian casualties, but it just doesn’t match up with what actually happens in the books. Looking back at all the deaths we do see:

Charlie Beckendorf -1

one [Hellhound] got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. I didn’t see what happened to him next. I didn’t want to know. (pg 182) -1

Michael Yew -1

A young dragon had appeared in Harlem, and a dozen wood nymphs died before the monster was finally defeated. (pg 203) -12

“We lost twenty satyrs against some giants at Fort Washington,” [Grover] said, his voice trembling. (pg 203) -20 Giants smashed through trees, and naiads faded as their life sources were destroyed. (pg 243) -1< Enemy archers returned fire, and a Hunter fell from a high branch. (pg 244) -1 Too many of our friends lay wounded in the streets. Too many were missing. (pg 257) -1< The flagpoles were hung with horrible trophies –helmets and armor pieces from defeated campers. (pg 282) -1< The Drakon lashed out, swallowing three californian centaurs in one gulp before I could even get close. (pg 288) -3 Poison spewed everywhere, melting centaurs into dust along with quite a few monsters, (pg 288) -1< The Drakon snapped up one Ares camper in a gulp. (pg 291) -1

Silena Beauregard -1

Leneus -1

a body covered in the golden burial shroud of Apollo’s cabin. I didn’t know who was underneath. I don't want to find out. (pg 303) -1

Oddly enough, we actually miss the moment that was probably the worst for the Olympians, the final push by Kronos that breaks through their line. After Clarisse slays the drakon and the monsters are driven back again, Percy and co. take the opportunity to go up to Olympus. Percy gives Pandora’s Pithos to Hestia, and then contacts Poseidon via his throne. It’s just as he finishes that Thalia comes up and tells them that Kronos is coming again, but they miss the fighting.

By the time we got to the street, it was too late. Campers and Hunters lay wounded on the ground. Clarisse must have lost a fight with a Hyperborean giant, because she and her chariot were frozen in a block of ice. The centaurs were nowhere to be seen. Either they’d panicked and ran, or they’d been disintegrated. (pg 312) -<500

And finally, Kronos does kill some people on Olympus itself.

A few minor gods and nature spirits had tried to stop Kronos. What remained of them was strewn about the road: shattered armor, ripped clothing, swords and spears broken in half. (pg 322) -1<

The specific deaths we have mentioned during the battle amount to 48 at the very least; and that is an extremely conservative estimate that only includes the deaths Percy has the time and presence of mind to witness in all the carnage. Considering how many others must have happened, factoring the sudden disappearance of the 500 centaurs in particular, it was likely in the hundreds. And most of the centaurs probably ran at the end, but even that would have involved heavy casualties.

It’s true that actual demigods were a smaller fraction of Olympian forces, and so would have made up just a fraction of losses. The number 16 might actually make sense if it were just the number of campers lost, but that’s not what Hecate said, she said total.

It might be significant that Hecate is the actual source of this misinformation. Would she have reason to lie to her own son, or might she herself be out of the loop. Right now, we just can’t know.

And she might be underestimating Titan Army losses too. Considering how many times a wave of several hundred monsters tear into Manhattan, and get thrown back by the Olympians only to return later with no discernable drop in numbers, until the army is finally routed entirely, it wouldn’t surprise me if the TA actually took a thousand or more casualties. But those would be overwhelmingly monsters, because:

Part 2) Less Than Fifty Demigods Were Even In The Titan Army

To prove that there could not possibly have been hundreds of TA demigods killed at Manhattan, we need look no farther than Alabaster's own account.

“There was a war between the gods and titans last summer and most half-bloods–demigods like me–fought for the Olympians.” (pg 218)

So the TA could not have had more demigods than the Olympians; and they had about a hundred. There are forty campers to start with, who are quickly joined by the Hunters, who now have thirty members. Then, in the last hours of the fight, they are finally joined by the Ares cabin, which brings another thirty (jeez Ares, you animal!). So Olympus has an even hundred demigods. (The Hunters aren’t necessarily all demigods by birth, but I don’t think Alabaster would make a distinction based on that.)

So the TA has less than a hundred demigods, significantly less. I would argue they probably had no more than fifty because that lines up with the only solid numbers we ever get for them. And every time the TA is described, demigods are a clear minority. First, look at the foes Percy encounters when he infiltrates the Princess Andromeda:

I saw monsters patrolling the upper decks of the ship–dracaenae snake-women, hellhounds, giants, and the humanoid seal-demons known as telkhines . . . . . “I don’t care what your nose says!” snarled a half-human half-dog voice—a telkhine. “The last time you smelled half-blood, it turned out to be a meatloaf sandwich!” “Meatloaf sandwiches are good!” a second voice snarled . . . . . a telkhine was hunched over a console . . . . . a half dozen telkhines were tromping down the stairs . . . . . past another telkhine . . . . . And in the fountain squatted a giant crab . . . . . a couple of dracaenae slithered across my path . . . . . As I was running up the stairwell, a kid charged down . . . . . Laistrygonian giants filed in on either side of the swimming pool . . . . . demigod archers appeared on the roof . . . . . two hellhounds leapt down . . . . . The crowed of monsters parted . . . . . Giants jeered. Dracaenae hissed with laughter . . . . . throwing monsters off their feet . . . . .I knew him, of course: Ethan Nakamura . . . . . two giants lumbered forward . . . . . Panicked monsters surged backward . . . . . one of the dracaenae hissed . . . . . I pushed through a crowd of monsters . . . . . Monsters yelled at me from above.

That was a quick summary of all the enemies Percy and Charlie encounter on the Princess Andromeda, I’m not crazy enough to try and write the whole chapter. But it’s pretty clear there are only a few demigods amid dozens of monsters. We hear the same thing from Poseidon later, that “there were only a few demigod warriors aboard that ship”; we might question whether or not Poseidon is a trustworthy source, but the evidence does back him up.

When we finally get to the battle, the disparity of demigod numbers in the TA is again evident:

The bronze image showed Long Island Sound near La Guardia. A fleet of a dozen speed boats raced through the dark water toward Manhattan. Each boat was packed with demigods in full Greek armor. At the back of the lead boat, a purple banner emblazoned with a black scythe flapped in the night wind. I’d never seen that design before, but it wasn’t hard to figure out: the battle flag of Kronos. “Scan the perimeter of the island,” I said. “Quick.” Annabeth shifted the scene south to the harbor. A Staten Island Ferry was plowing through the waves near Ellis Island. The deck was crowded with dracaenae and a whole pack of hellhounds. Swimming in front of the ship was a pod of marine mammals. At first I thought they were dolphins. Then I saw their doglike faces and swords strapped to their waists, and I realized they were telkhines—sea demons. The scene shifted again: the Jersey shore, right at the entrance of the Lincoln Tunnel. A hundred assorted monsters were marching past the lanes of stopped traffic: giants with clubs, rogue Cyclopes, a few fire-spitting dragons, and just to rub it in, a World War II-era Sherman tank, pushing cars out of the way as it rumbled into the tunnel. (pg 167)

Here we see the first wave of the Titan Army as a three pronged attack (which Percy says on the next page collectively numbered at least 300) and only one of the units has demigods. It’s the one that Kronos leads, so it’s probably meant to be a more elite unit, at least at first.

We don’t know for sure how many there are. Speedboats are usually made to carry 4-6 people so a dozen would be possible 48 to 72. Considering Alabaster says there were significantly less demigods in the TA than the Olympians, I would guess it’s on the lower end; and that does match another number we see in a moment.

This fleet never reaches Manhattan, since Percy bribes the East River to swamp their boats. Those who say many TA demigods were killed in the battle might point to this as Percy causing a bunch of kids to drown; but Alabaster never mentions a mass drowning in his narrative of the battle, and he would have been on one of those boats, so it’s safe to say they just went for a swim.

(And Kronos was with them, which means that a very angry titan lord was suddenly pitched into the river and had to swim with the rest of them. That’s not really relevant, I just want everyone to know that.)

Percy is then immediately told that “Another army is marching over the Williamsburg bridge.” This fourth prong of the attack, led by the Minotaur, also has no demigods in it.

An entire phalanx of dracaenae marched in the lead . . . About a hundred more monsters marched behind them. (pg 182) More monsters surged forward —snakes and giants and telkines—but the Minotaur roared at them, and they backed off. (pg 186)

But more monsters keep advancing because by the time Percy kills the minotaur and the demigods charge and rout the whole group, it had grown to 200

Finally, the monsters turned and fled—about twenty left alive out of two hundred. (pg 188)

So the grand total for the first TA attack was 500 soldiers or more, with only 40-70 of them demigods. And after the monsters on the Williamsburg bridge retreat, those demigods show back up.

Then I saw the crowd at the base of the bridge. The retreating monsters were running straight toward their reinforcements. It was a small group, maybe thirty or forty demigods in battle armor, mounted on skeletal horses. One of them held a purple banner with the black scythe design. The lead horseman trotted forward. He took off his helm, and I recognized Kronos himself, his eyes like molten gold. (pg1 188)

This is the only time we get anywhere close to a specific number when TA demigods are concerned. It would have been the same group that was sunk in the East River, who then had to swim for Brooklynn; which is where they are now trying to take the Williamsburg bridge. This reinforces the idea that the number of demigods in the boats was only a little more than forty, since they would not have suffered more than a few injuries in the sinkings.

I’m going to come back to this moment later to demonstrate how Percy refrains from killing other demigods, even in his Achilles state, but the other important thing to note is that this is the last time Kronos organizes his demigods into a unit that he leads personally. After they fail to break through here, Kronos just has them take on a secondary role, and puts his faith in bigger and bigger monsters to lead the charge instead.

The Titan Army units on Long Island then spend the evening marching the long way around Manhattan (for some reason) because they make camp for the night in New Jersey, at Medusa’s old lair. Percy again describes demigods as the small minority.

Hundreds of tents and fires surrounded the property. Mostly I saw monsters, but there were some human mercenaries in combat fatigues and demigods in armor too. A purple-and-black banner hung outside the emporium, guarded by two huge blue Hyperboreans.

And this is only part of the Titan army, because there are more troops north of Manhattan.

“Tell my brother Hyperion to move our main force south into Central Park. The halfbloods will be in such disarray they will not be able to defend themselves.” (pg 237)

The army that marches into central park is bigger than the one camped in New Jersey. And it is made up exclusively of monsters.

At the north end of the reservoir, the enemy vanguard broke through the woods—a warrior in golden armor leading a battalion of Laistrygonian giants with huge bronze axes. Hundreds of other monsters poured out behind them. (pg 243)

There is not a single mention of a demigod. However they’re already joining the fight in other places.

When it flew above the rooftops, I could see fires here and there around the city. It looked like my friends were having a rough time. Kronos was attacking on several fronts. (pg 251)

After Percy kills the Clazmonian Sow, the momentum of the battle shifts. With his main force failing to deliver a knockout punch, Kronos has his remaining armies spread out to put equal pressure on the entire defensive line, and catch it in a massive envelopment.

Midtown was a war zone. We flew over little skirmishes everywhere. A giant was ripping up trees in Bryant Park while dryads pelted him with nuts. Outside the Waldorf Astoria, a bronze statue of Benjamin Franklin was whacking a hellhound with a rolled-up newspaper. A trio of Hephaestus campers fought a squad of dracaenae in the middle of Rockefeller Center . . . . . The hunters had set up a defensive line on 37th, just three blocks north of Olympus. To the east on Park Avenue, Jake Mason and some other Hephaestus campers were leading an army of statues against the enemy. To the west, the Demeter cabin and Grover’s nature spirits had turned Sixth Avenue into a jungle that was hampering a squadron of Kronos’s demigods . . . . . I spotted a familiar silver owl banner in the southeast corner of the fight, 33rd at the Park Avenue tunnel. Annabeth and two of her siblings were holding back a Hyperborean giant . . . . . The next hour was a blur. I fought like I’d never fought before—wading into legions of dracaenae, taking out dozens of telkines with every strike, destroying empousai and knocking out enemy demigods . . . . . At one point Grover was next to me, bonking snake women over the head with his cudgel. Then he disappeared in the crowd, and it was Thalia at my side, driving monsters back with the power of her magic shield. Mrs. O’Leary bounded out of nowhere, picked up a Laistrygonian giant in her mouth and flung him like a Frisbee. Annabeth used her invisibility cap to sneak behind enemy lines. Whenever a monster disintegrated for no apparent reason with a surprised look on his face, I knew Annabeth had been there . . . . . Kronos was riding towards us on a golden chariot. A dozen Laistrygonian giants bore torches before him. Two Hyperboreans carried his black-and-purple banners . . .

“THEN THE WINGED HUSSAARSSS AARRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVED” SABATON BLASTS ON ELECTRIC GUITAR

Sorry, sorry, I mean then Chiron and the 500 centaurs arrived!

Kronos’s forces looked as confused as we were. Giants lowered their clubs. Dracaenae hissed. Even Kronos’s honor guard looked uneasy. Then, to our left, a hundred monsters cried out at once. Kronos’s entire northern flank surged forward. I thought we were doomed, but they didn’t attack. They ran straight past us and crashed into their southern allies . . . a shower of arrows arced over our heads and slammed into the enemy, vaporizing hundreds of demons. (pg 258)

This is how the second phase of the battle ends. And during the entire night, out of a sea of monsters (hehe) we only see one unit of TA demigods. And it’s the last time we get any reference to them participating in the battle.

After being driven south, the TA apparently did another long march, because they make camp northeast of Manhattan.

The Titan army had set up camp all around the U.N. complex. The flagpoles were hung with horrible trophies—helmets and armor from defeated campers. All along First Avenue, giants sharpened their axes. Telkines repaired armor at makeshift forges. (pg 282)

Ethan is the only demigod mentioned this time. And he doesn’t appear to take part in the next attack, aside from releasing the drakon. We get less of a description of the enemy army this time, but it’s all monsters.

The rest of the battle wasn’t going well. The centaurs had panicked under the onslaught of giants and demons. An occasional orange camp T-shirt appeared in the sea of fighting, but quickly disappeared. (pg 289)

Of course the Ares cabin arrives, the drakon kills Silena, and Clarisse kills it. It’s another rout for the TA.

The monsters retreated toward 35th Street. (pg 298) There was no answer from the enemy. Slowly, they began to fall back behind a dracaenae shield wall, while Clarisse drove in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross her path. (pg 299)

After that we have the final phase of the battle, when the Titan Army finally breaks through the Olympian lines. But once again, we have no reference to demigods other than Ethan.

The Titan Army ringed the building, standing maybe twenty feet from the doors. Kronos’s vanguard was in the lead: Ethan Nakamura, the dracaenae queen in her green armor, and two Hyperboreans. I didn’t see Prometheus. (pg 312) “ROWWF!” Mrs. O’Leary bounded toward me, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. (pg 315) There were thousands of [skeletan soldiers], and as they emerged, the titan’s monsters got jumpy and started to back up. (pg 315) The armies of the dead clashed with the Titan’s monsters. Fifth Avenue exploded into absolute chaos. Mortals screamed and ran for cover. Demeter waved her hand and an entire column of giants turned into a wheat field. Persephone changed the dracaenae spears into sunflowers. Nico slashed and hacked his way through the enemy, trying to protect pedestrians as best as he could. My parents ran toward me , dodging monsters and zombies, but there was nothing I could do to help them. (pg 318).

The fight continues like this, until Typhon is destroyed, and the defenders are joined by the gods, and Poseidon’s army of cyclopes. It’s then that the Titan army is “massacred.” Most of the fandom thinks that the demigods were killed too, but that’s not the case.

PART 3: The TA Demigods Deserted Before The Final Battle

As Alabaster remembers it:

the war didn’t go our way. I fought on the battlefield against the enemy, but most of our allies ran. Kronos himself marched on Olympus, only to be killed by a son of Poseidon. After Kronos’s death, the Olympian gods smashed any remaining resistance. It was a massacre. “We weren’t all destroyed,” Alabaster said. “Most of the remaining half-bloods fled or were captured. They were so demoralized they joined the enemy. (pg 219)

When you look at this narrative, and compare it to The Last Olympian, it’s actually more complicated than the TA demigods simply getting massacred.

Al says that while he was fighting, most of his allies ran. That’s odd, because we don’t see the relative numbers of monsters go down at any point. What we do see, is the number of demigods go down.

As I illustrated in Part 2, the Battle of Manhattan has four distinct phases. Phase one, that ends when the Williamsburg Bridge is destroyed. The second phase, that starts when Hyperion attacks Central Park, and ends when the Party Ponies arrive. The third phase, which is all about the attack of the drakon. And the final phase, when Kronos breaks through.

We only see TA demigods in the first two phases; they attack the Williamsburg Bridge in the first phase as part of the Kronos’s main force, then in the second phase they’re relegated to a supporting role by hitting the defenders western flank. And that’s the last we see of them. After that, Etahn is the only demigod left standing in the TA. Alabaster must be somewhere in the background, as a retcon, but there’s no one beyond the two of them.

You might think that they’ve just already been killed by this point. After all, Percy blows up the Princess Andromeda, then goes into an Achilles Curse fueled berserker mode several times in the first two phases of the battle. Surely he must have killed hundreds of kids, right?

No, not even close.

Maybe not any at all.

On the Princess Andromeda Percy finds lots of monsters, but the number of demigods he finds could be counted on one hand. And the first one he meets; Percy spares him and tells him to get his friends and evacuate. We can’t prove whether or not any demigods were killed in the blast; we just know that the two we can confirm were still on board, Ethan and Alabaster, both survived. And when Alabaster recounts it, he doesn’t mention any bad losses at this point.

As for the Curse of Achilles, it doesn’t send Percy into anything like the berserker state some people think of it as. It might seem like that when Percy lets loose on the Williamsburg Bridge:

You’re going to ask how the whole “invincible” thing worked: if I magically dodged every weapon, or if the weapon hit me and just didn’t harm me. Honestly, I don’t remember. All I knew was that I wasn’t going to let these monsters invade my hometown. I sliced through armor like it was made of paper. Snake women exploded. Hellhounds melted to shadow. I slashed and stabbed and whirled, and I might have even laughed once or twice—a crazy laugh that scared me as much as it did my enemies. (pg 188)

But when push comes to shove, Percy can control the Curse, and what he does during it. That last moment was when he was fighting nothing but monsters. But when the TA demigods arrived, Percy pulled his punches like he always does.

I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren’t monsters. They were demigods who’d fallen under Kronos’s spell. I couldn’t see faces under their helmets, but some of them had probably been my friends. I slashed the legs off their horses and made the skeletal mounts disintegrate. After the first few demigods took a spill, the rest figured out they’d better dismount and fight me on foot. (pg 189)

Percy is still in complete control of what he’s doing; even when the worst happens.

“Annabeth!” I turned in time to see her fall, clutching her arm. A demigod with a bloody knife stood over her . . . . . I locked eyes with the enemy demigod. He wore an eye patch under his helmet: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis. Somehow he’d survived the explosion on the Princess Andromeda. I slammed him in the face with my sword hilt so hard I dented his helm. (pg 190)

Percy really has all the reason to hate Ethan at this point; after Percy spared his life in Antaeus’ arena, Ethan still joined the side that had been ready to write off his death, and deliberately helped Kronos achieve his physical resurrection. Because of that Percy’s friends and even-Riordan-doesn’t-know how many mortals are going to die in the next few days; and on top of all that, Ethan just stabbed the love of his life.

And all Percy does is knock him out, maybe a little harder than necessary. He makes no effort to kill him. Those aren’t the actions of a berserker with no control.

In fact, the knife turns out to be poisonsed. And Ethan now has an idea where Percy’s Achilles Spot is, and might tell Kronos. And even after all of that, Percy doesn’t seriously think about killing him as an option.

“I’ll bonk him on the head harder next time.” (pg 241)

But more on topic, there is no reason to think the TA demigods have particularly high casualties in this phase of the battle, though they have a few:

Our archers shot a volley, bringing down several of the enemy, but they just kept riding. (pg 189)

Though it’s vague if they are hitting the riders or the horses. In fact, it might actually be Kronos who’s responsible for more of their losses.

[Kronos] struck the bridge with the butt of his scythe, and a wave of pure force blasted me backward. Cars went careening. Demigods—even Luke’s own men—were blown off the edge of the bridge. (pg 192)

I will die on the hill that between this, Ethan, and other implied moments, Kronos killed more of his own demigods than Percy did.

In the second phase of the battle, when we see the TA demigods attack again, they’re in a very different situation.

To the west, the Demeter cabin and Grover’s nature spirits had turned Sixth Avenue into a jungle that was hampering a squadron of Kronos’s demigods. (pg 255)

This is the only thing we see the TA demigods do as a group in this phase; and they’re fighting people who are using very defensive tactics, more hampering than harmful. They’re not likely to lose many fighters. A few of them do cross Percy’s path in the chaos, but even at his most Achilles fueled chaos he never loses control.

The next hour was a blur. I fought like I’d never fought before—wading into legions of dracaenae, taking out dozens of telkines with every strike, destroying empousai and knocking out enemy demigods. (pg 257)

He talks about killing monsters, but always “knocking out” demigods. Finally, that phase of the battle ends when the centaurs show up. Did the centaurs kill any demigods? After all, Percy said they “trampled everything in their path.”

Well the only report we get on the TA demigods puts them to the west. When the centaurs attack, they come out of the north east and drive the enemy south, and start off a wave of panic that ripples down the enemy lines ahead of them. The demigods were probably running before any centaur reached them, and might have had better chances of being trampled by their own monsters.

So if the TA demigods aren’t taking many losses, where do they all go in the third and fourth phases, when we don’t see any except Ethan?

They desert.

Alabaster: “I fought on the battlefield against the enemy, but most of our allies ran.”

I think the demigods of the TA signed up with no real idea of what would happen when they fought the Olympians. They thought they were going to have a sure victory.

Chris Rodriguez said it in SOM:

“I hear they got two more [drakon] coming,” [Chris] said. “They keep arriving at this rate, oh, man—no contest!” (pg 122)

Alabaster C. Torrington said it in SOM:

“Kronos wasn’t supposed to lose! You said the odds of winning were in the Titan’s favor! You told me Camp Half-Blood would be destroyed!” (pg 196)

And they probably weren’t well prepared for the war either. At one point Luke says they will fight well because he has been training the army. But most of them join because they are the children of minor gods who swear for Kronos, and that doesn’t happen until the end of BOTL, after Luke has been possessed. Most of the TA demigods never got training from him; including their two highest ranking members, Ethan and Alabaster. It’s no wonder most of them weren’t prepared.

As I was running up the stairwell, a kid charged down. He looked like he had just woken up from a nap. His armor was half on. He drew his sword and yelled, “Kronos!” but he sounded more scared than angry . . . . No way was I going to hurt him. I didn’t need a weapon for this. I stepped inside his strike and grabbed his wrist, slamming it against the wall. His sword clattered out of his hand. (pg 18)

And the demigods might not hold much loyalty to Kronos, a violent and temperamental eldritch horror!

Ethan moistened his lips. “He’s still fighting you, isn’t he? Luke—” “Nonesense,” Kronos spat. “Repeat that lie, and I will cut out your tongue. The boy’s soul has been crushed.” (pg 236) “But, my lord,” Ethan said. “Your regeneration.” Kronos pointed at Ethan, and the demigod froze. “Does it seem,” Kronos hissed. “that I need to regenerate?” Ethan didn’t respond. Kind of hard to do when you’re immobilized in time. Kronos snapped his fingers and Ethan collapsed. (pg 284)

And the demigods might have witnessed a darker side to his army that we didn’t.

Back on my first visit to the Princess Andromeda, my old enemy Luke had kept dazed tourists on board for show, shrouded in Mist so they didn’t realize they were on a monster infested ship. Now i didn’t see any sign of tourists. I hated to think what had happened to them, but I kind of doubted they’d been allowed to go home with their bingo winnings. (pg 15)

So, the demigods deserted. After the second phase of the battle we don’t see any at the Titan camp at the U.N., or taking any part in the last phases of the battle. They had been fed false promises, were treated badly, and were being sent against enemies out of their league.

“Most of the remaining half-bloods fled or were captured. They were so demoralized they joined the enemy.”

All except two, Alabaster and Ethan. The son of Nemesis, who has already given so much and is so desperate to see something good and fair come out of it; and the son of Hecate, who was promised victory, and is desperate to avenge the death of his siblings. Ironically, the two demigods who stayed loyal to Kronos the longest, did so because they had faith in their godly parents.

So if there was no “massacre” of TA demigods at the end of the Battle of Manhattan, why is Alabaster so insistent that there was one?

“Yes,” Alabaster said bitterly. “Camp Half-Blood decided that they would accept any children of the minor gods. They would build us cabins at camp and pretend that they didn’t just blindly massacre us for resisting. (pg 220) “But I’ll never bow to the Olympian gods after the atrocities they committed. Their followers are blind. I’d never set foot in their camp, and if I did, it would only be to give that son of Poseidon what he deserves.” (pg 221)

Well, it’s because the children of Hecate suffered the most in the war. She didn’t have as many children as other gods, and Alabaster was the only one to fight in it and survive. He claims he convinced “most” of his siblings to join; but if Hecate does not have many children, and he is the only survivor of the battle, how are there still enough of his siblings to decently fill a cabin, it’s likely “most” was only slightly more than half. The sad irony is that the fact that the smaller group of demigods had more casualties than the larger ones (and it sounds like not just more proportionately, but more in actual numbers), also kind of disproves that there could have been a large massacre that affected them all.

Alabaster was a scared, frustrated, exhausted kid; who convinced his siblings to fight in a destructive war, and was the only one of them to survive. To him, that is probably always going to feel like a brutal massacre.

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cinnajun · 1 year

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ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: bro code | kgv

summary | it’s not exactly a good idea to date your best friend’s ex. and, as of right now, you’ve confirmed that the same sentiment applies to dating your best friend’s ex’s best friend, too.

genre | kim gyuvin x fem!reader, university!au, situationship

warnings | alcohol, breaking the bro code :/, i DONT ship ricky and hiyyih she is just a character.

wc | 1.9k

a/n: originally this was a “situationships with zb1” post but then i realized i just wanted to write this so here it is

ft kep1 hiyyih, youngeun, hikaru, people i made up

YOU HATE SHEN RICKY with your entire being. When you see him, your blood boils and steam comes out of your ears. When you hear his voice, your eardrums bleed and you get the worst migraine imaginable. When you hear about him, you complain for hours on end.

Once upon a time, you hated Kim Gyuvin too. He was guilty by association; if Ricky was that terrible to Hiyyih, there was no way Gyuvin wasn’t terrible either. You’d only met him once before Ricky and Hiyyih’s relationship took a turn for the worse—they’d been attempting to “merge friend groups,” in her words. He’d been awkward most of the time, cracking a joke or two when it seemed right and offering his two cents from time to time.

Back when Ricky wasn’t your mortal enemy, you felt many ways about Kim Gyuvin. He was tall and he was handsome, he was nice and you’d heard about how much he cared for Ricky and his other friends. The day before things went south, you’d nearly asked Hiyyih for his number.

Now, you wanted to hate him. You had to hate him.

You didn’t like admitting the fact that you didn’t hate him.

You don’t know how you got here. When you put your thinking cap on and consider what led to your fling with Kim Gyuvin, you can’t pinpoint an exact catalyst. Maybe it was the moment you met him, four months after Ricky and Hiyyih started dating. Maybe it was the moment you ran into him at a party drunk off your ass, and took all your anger towards Ricky out on him.

Maybe it was when he took you home and made sure you got there okay.

Whatever it was, now you were in possibly the worst position of your life. You’d run into the bathroom and locked the door, phone in one hand and a cup of water in the other. Your friend—perhaps an ex-friend, now—was banging on the door, demanding you come out and explain yourself.

For the past five months, you’ve done an outstanding job at sneaking around with Gyuvin. From getting caught in traffic from an accident when you really wanted Dominoes, to going to visit your parents, you had a mountain of excuses that all covered up every escapade you had. Both your friends and his were none the wiser to your schemes, and you’d been completely okay with that.

“I can’t believe you’re dating Kim Gyuvin!”

“I’m not dating Kim Gyuvin!” you yelled back, confident in your announcement because it wasn’t a lie. Sure, maybe you’d kissed him a few times or taken a couple of romantic walks with him, but you’d avoided ever defining your relationship in fear of this exact situation. And because of the raging guilt you both felt for having any feelings for the other.

Minju kept banging on the door and you hurriedly put your cup down on the bathroom counter, searching for your phone in your pockets. Once you found it, you opened your messages app with so much fervor that you could’ve set the screen on fire.

You scrolled through your messages, scanning over everyone who could possibly save you. Hiyyih probably wouldn’t talk to you for a week, but Youngeun and Hikaru wouldn’t drop you over this—hopefully. You sent them both a text, a hurried cry for help as Minju continued shaking the doorknob.

“Talk to me when you’re sober!” you called out, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub. Subconsciously, your knee began to bounce up and down, and you resisted the urge to chew your fingers off as you waited for Hikaru or Youngeun to reply.

“How could you do this, [First]?” a new voice rang out, and you shut your eyes, taking a deep breath.

You didn’t know what you had done wrong—well, you did, but there was no way it was wrong enough to warrant this. Had you begun talking to Gyuvin while Ricky and Hiyyih had been dating, would they still be treating you like this? You were unsure of the answer.

Nevertheless, you tried to convince yourself you didn’t regret your time spent with Gyuvin. He was kind, nicer than anyone you’d ever dated, and he seemed to care about you. He asked how your day was and listened intently as you described whatever you had done. He held you when you cried and shared in your joy when you were happy.

He was good to you. Was that such a crime?

Five minutes passed, and both Hikaru and Youngeun hadn’t replied. Minju and her friend, who you couldn’t identify from their voice alone, still screamed at you from outside the door. They’d stopped the banging, but every few seconds they’d jiggle the doorknob as if you’d unlock the door.

Desperation overtook you, and you felt as though you had no choice at this point. You were stuck in your mind, wondering why Hiyyih was letting people you barely knew harass you into explaining yourself for something that wasn’t any of their business.

So, in your panic, you called Gyuvin. You had his number memorized, mostly because you’d mutually agreed not to save each other into your phones to avoid any suspicion, so it took less than 5 seconds to have the dialtone filling your ear.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings and he answered, and you practically heard the smile in his voice. “My dearest, darling [First],” he said, a slight sing-song tone to his voice. “Whatever can I do for you?”

“Open the goddamn door!” Minju yelled, a lot louder than she’d been yelling before. She jiggled the doorknob again, and you flinched, letting out another big sigh.

“What’s going on?”

“Please come pick me up,” you said in a hushed tone, not wanting to explain everything over the phone. “I’ll text you my address. I’m desperate. Please.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Are you at Hiyyih’s? I can be there in five.”

How he knew where Hiyyih lived, you didn’t know, but you were glad he did. “Yeah, I am. Please hurry. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“I’m on my way.”

You hung up the phone, not letting him say anything else. Minju and her accomplice kept banging on the door, but for a few moments, they stopped. You heard another voice in the hall, Yeseo’s, but struggled to make out what she was saying—something about how they could yell at you another time, and that Hiyyih needed their support.

You felt like a criminal. Maybe you deserve to feel like a criminal.

All you knew was that Gyuvin made you happy, and that, sometimes, maybe it was worth prioritizing your happiness over other people’s comfort. At the same time, you felt like your friends should always be more important than a boy, and that losing your years of friendship with them wasn’t worth a single man.

Minju and the anonymous ‘other’ were pulled away, leaving you to sit in silence. It was a loud and uncomfortable quiet, the type that assaulted your ears and your mind the longer you sat in it—you felt miserable. Everything about this was miserable.

Yesterday, you talked to Gyuvin about this exact situation. You’d been on the phone with him, twiddling your thumbs as you stared at your bedroom ceiling. “What do you think would happen?” you asked, counting the random divots above you. “If Ricky and Hiyyih found out.”

Gyuvin had groaned, and you listened to him turn over in his bed, which sounded like sheets crumpling and fabric moving. “I don’t even want to think about it. I think it would be worse for you.”

“Well, I guess they can’t find out about anything, because we aren’t anything,” you replied, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smile. “Technically. We just hang out from time to time.”

“Yeah, just friends. Nothing more. You’re like Eumppapa’s dog walker.”

How ironic your conversation had been. Your phone buzzed and you picked it up immediately, feeling a terrible sense of relief wash over you. Your knight in shining armor, simultaneously the big bad dragon, had come to rescue you from your tower.

You ripped the window open, cringing at the beeping sound that echoed through the house as a result. Hiyyih’s parent’s security system was a good thing most of the time, but, at times like this, it was a bad thing. Nevertheless, you continued your escape, hopping out of the bathroom window and running towards Gyuvin’s parked car.

By the time you made it to the correct side of the car, Hiyyih was already emerging onto the front lawn, yelling for you not to leave. You didn’t listen, ripping the passenger door open and climbing in. Gyuvin didn’t wait for you to put your seatbelt on, speeding off into the night.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you breathed out, panickedly putting on your seatbelt. “I promise. It was an accident. I got careless.”

“I don’t care about who knows and who doesn’t,” he said, glancing at you. He took your hand into his, resting it on the center console. “I care about what in the world was happening when you called. Why were they banging on the door? What in the world elicits that kind of reaction?”

“Sneaking around with the best friend of your best friend’s ex,” you sighed, looking out the window. “I just feel awful. I don’t know why. This is awful.”

Gyuvin stayed quiet for a moment, and you suddenly became aware of the quiet classical music coming from the radio. He must’ve been in the car with Zhang Hao before he came to rescue you—and the fact that you recognized that made you feel even more guilty.

“It’s the bro-code morality,” he finally answered, squeezing your hand. You looked over at him, somewhat confused. “You know. Not really the best etiquette to date your friend’s ex, and I guess it applies to your friend’s ex’s best friend, too. I feel it sometimes.”

“But I’m happy. And I think you’re happy. I don’t want to lose that.”

“I am happy, and you won’t. We’ll deal with it, the fallout and everything,” Gyuvin said. You were drowning in anxiety and wanted nothing more than to drown in your bed. “It’s Ricky’s fault for being a dickwad in the first place, not mine. And, if the time Hiyyih spent with him meant anything, she’ll at least know that I’m not a bad person.”

“I hope.”

You pulled up to a red light, and Gyuvin looked over at you. He looked tired, and you realized he was wearing his pajamas, meaning he’d probably gotten out of bed to come save you. That made you feel even more guilty and warm and fuzzy at the same time. “And we might need to stop avoiding the question we’ve been ignoring for nearly half a year.”

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fluff #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #gyuvin x reader #kim gyuvin x reader #gyuvin fluff #gyuvin oneshots #gyuvin imagines #gyuvin scenarios

443 notes · View notes

misserabella · 2 years

Text

come over.

+18 fem! reader

synopsis; strangely enough, your number one enemy since kindergarten and captain of the basketball club of your college calls you up one night begging you to come over to his dorm room. after knocking on his door, things will take a turn that you would have never expected.

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

a/n: i don’t feel too confident about this shot, but i miss y’all and i need to get over my writer’s block. i hope it’s not as much as a disaster as i see it and that you all love it. （ ; ; ）

CW;; cursing, dirty talk, nipple play, bullying and fights, teasing, smut, p in v sex, dacryphilia, overstimulation, squirting, spanking, non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, hair pulling, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

word count;; +5k!

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

You were having a really bad day. Not bad, horrible.

First of all, your alarm didn’t go off for some stupid reason and caused you to 1. getting late to school and 2. getting your teacher to lower your grade just because he’s a goddamn asshole that hates you. Second of all, you’d forgotten your lunch and your wallet, so you were now starving unable to buy anything to eat (thank god your best friend Robin shared with you her sandwich or else you would be dead by now). And third of all…

“And what do we have here?”

Him.

You rolled your eyes, feeling your skin heating up and your insides turning with disgust and anger as you turned around to face the most annoying fucking person you’ve ever met.

“Give it back, Harrington.”

Steve Harrington, the name that would appear on your worst nightmares, the monster under your bed, the last person you’d ever want to live through the end of the world with... Your enmity had been going strong since kindergarten, when he had picked on you for your looks since day one just because. Then, he started to tell his friends and those around you to not go near you or else they’d catch lice. He needed to be on top of you all the time; if there was a race on P.E, he’d make you trip with his foot to get you on your knees and win (leaving you all bloody and injured), if there were presentations to be made in front of the whole class he’d crack up jokes to make everyone laugh at you, giving you quite the public anxiety and if you somewhat got to win him in anything (probably at grades) he’d go nuts and get so pissed that he’d make your life impossible for the next few months by trashing your locker, ‘accidentally’ throwing his drinks all over you, telling the teachers that he saw you cheating…

It only got worse when you found your best friend: Eddie Munson, who was too an outcast. You became inseparable, and since then you two were the ‘freaks’ to the whole high school just because you liked rock and metal songs.

He smirked, taking a look at the poster that you were just about to hang on your university’s ‘news wall’. It was Eddie’s, he was about to go on a tour and had asked you if it would be okay to hang some posters to let everyone know. Through the years, Corrored Coffin had gained fame and a lot of followers.

“The freak is going on a tour?” he scoffed, raising his eyebrows. “Disgusting. He really thinks he’s gonna become a superstar or some shit…”

You fisted your hands, your heart being squished under the nickname that your friend had had to grow up with just because he liked things the others didn’t.

“Don’t call him that.” you said, your eyes straight into his.

“ ‘Freak’?” he teased you, swaying away the poster when you tried and take it back. “What do you want me to call him then? I could call him a girl, because he surely isn’t a man with that hair of his and that stupid makeup he’s always wearing…” he though out loud, when he noticed your furious expression, he simply shrugged. “Just stating facts.” the people around you had gathered to listen to your bickering. It was a daily coincidence now, Harrington being always the one looking for trouble. Some of them laughed at his words… Jerks. Just like him.

“You know what, Harrington? Sure, call him whatever you want.” you said, ripping from his hands the poster. “But I assure you, that you’ll never be not an inch of a man that he is, if you are bright enough to know what I mean by that.” your eyes wondered to his crotch and that made the crowd burst out in laughter. You were filled with proudness when you noticed his jaw tightening and his body going stiff. You were no outcast now, you were popular to be honest, and everybody knew the two of you since Harrington was the basketball team captain and you the cheerleader team captain. It was hell on the games, each of you always fighting each other off. But your teammates had grown so accustomed to it that they just laughed at your little fights. “So go ahead and run your mouth, ‘cause I’m sure yours will never get to places his have never been.” you leaned in. “And hold your tongue, ‘cause Eddie knows how to use his really well.” you whispered inches away from his face, giving him a wink before stapling the poster to the board and leaving him behind with tightened fists and heated cheeks.

It was a big day for you and your team, and you didn’t have time for play dates.

—

“y/n!” your eyes shone when to your ears the familiar sound of your best friend’s voice ringed.

You turned around, with your pompoms in hand and high ponytail, your college’s cheerleader uniform shining due to the lights that lightened the whole basketball court.

“Eds!” you smiled, so bright that almost blinded, running and jumping on your friend’s arms, who easily caught you and squeezed you in a tight hug. “You made it!” you laughed as he twirled you around.

“Of course I made it, it’s your big night after all. Although I still don’t get this basketball and cheering thing…” he left a sweet peck on your cheek. “But look at you all dolled up! Is it for me?” he winked, leaning just the slightest in, enough for him to whisper on your ear.

You laughed, playfully pushing at his chest. “Of course Munson, you know I’m all yours.” you winked back, making him let out a quick laughter.

“I really need to put a ring on you, Mrs. Munson.” he pointed at you as the music that let the public know that the match was about to start started to play through the speakers and he backed off to the stairs to sit and leave you to your cheerleading.

“I’ll be waiting on it, Mr. Munson!” he sent you a flying kiss that only made you giggle and roll your eyes. You loved Eddie, he always found a way to make you laugh and that’s something that you truly appreciated. He was the only one that truly got you.

You turned around to call for your teammates, your smile fading as fast as your eyes bumped against those brown ones that you do well knew at this rate. Harrington looked at you with such a pissed expression… Water bottle tightly clutched in one of his hands, about to burst. He let it fall to the ground along with the towel that stood on his shoulders when his coach called out for him with his whistle, giving Eddie, who was on the first step on your back a death glare as he ran to the center of the court to shake hands with the other team captain.

What the…

“Girls come on!!” you called for the cheerleaders on your team as you still looked at the stiff body of your incarnated hell. What the fuck is wrong with him? “Assume positions!”

Not my problem.

You shrugged it off and started to cheer for your team along with the public that had come to watch the match, most of them students from both colleges. And through all of it, you tried and ignore the harsh eyes that bore holes on the back of your neck, even if your skin felt like being on fire.

…

It was late at night in your dorm room, Robin having left to stay at his girlfriend’s, Nancy, house since it was Friday. You were snacking on some candy and chips as you watch your favorite show, Teen Wolf along with Eddie, who had sneaked to your bedroom, laying in your bed fully covered and with your pjs on. After the game, which you sadly had lost, you had watched as a very infuriated Steve walked out of the court and the gym, not without giving you and Eddie, who was hugging you and congratulating you for your efforts regardless of the result of the match, a pretty harsh glare that clearly said ‘fuck you two.’

Jeez, you didn’t know what has gotten him so riled up that afternoon but you surely hoped for him to go and drown his sorrows somewhere as quietly as possible and leave you alone.

“Hell yeah!” you cheered to the power couple as they shared their first kiss, almost jumping and throwing all your chips around and on your best friend when Isaac and Allison finally shared their first kiss.

“Ugh. Really Allison?! I was expecting better from you.” the curly haired metal head gasped, acting hurt at the ‘betrayal’. He was team Scott. Which was obviously stupid since he now liked Kira.

“What are you talking about?! Scott has moved on, doesn’t she have the right to do so too?” Eddie gave you a side glance as in a ‘no’, but he quickly laughed when you hit your shoulder with a ‘hey!’.

Your attention was completely on the screen when your phone started buzzing on your side table. You took a new bite at your candy as you reached for it, still not focusing on it as you took. the call. It was probably Robin calling to check in.

“Hello?” you talked into the line, waiting for a few seconds for an answer that never came. You checked the screen, ‘Unknown number’ showing on its center. You furrowed your eyebrows “Hello? Who’s this?” Eddie paused the series and rose to sit up on your bed along with you, mouthing a ‘who’s it?’. You simply shrugged and mouthed back a ‘no idea’. The sudden appearance of a sharp and heavy breathing caught you off ward for a couple of seconds before you rolled your eyes.

“Are you serious?” you huffed, thinking it was a stupid phone call. “We're in college, how about we stop playing Scream and start being more matures?” you said, and just as you were about to hang up, a rather familiar voice croaked out:

“y/n."

You froze, your breath hitching as your brain tried to convince himself that you had heard right “Harrington?” you were in shock for a couple of seconds, Eddie furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you in utter disbelief. When the casual anger grew inside you with just the mention of his name appeared you snapped at him. “Do you know what hour it is… No. Why the fuck are you calling me in first place?” you rolled your eyes. For just a couple of hours that you were enjoying yourself with your best friend, of course he had to come and ruin it. He always does and always will.

He was silent for an instant before his voice breaks out in a whimper that makes your stomach flip.

“Please.”

“W…What?” your eyebrows were knitted together so hard it was painful. Eddie just hits you in the arm, silently asking you to tell him what’s going on. You just swatted his hand away and lift a finger to quiet him.

“Please.” he repeated.

“Are you drunk or something? You should-“ you started, but he was quick to cut you off.

“y/n…” that was something different. The way your name fell from his lips in such need, hunger… “Come over. Please come over. I need you so bad…”

“I-“

“y/n, what is it?” Eddie spoke up, and you could hear the tension from the other part of the line rise.

“Fuck. Is Munson there with you?” Harrington affirmed more than asked.

“y/n!” Eddie asked again.

“y/n.” but the voice of Harrington on the other line had you too out of focus. The way you could hear the begging on his tone, the need…

You didn’t know what had gotten over you, but you found yourself quick on your feet to grab your dorm keys.

“Wait for me.”

Eddie stood up as well and watch you hang up and made your way out of your room after putting on a pair of shoes.

“Where are you going?” Eddie inquired, completely and utterly lost. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ll be right back, I promise. I think there’s something wrong with Harrington. You can continue with the serie and use my bed, alright?” you quickly muttered, and when you caught him stepping closer and raising his hand to say something and find out whatever the hell was going on, you closed the door on his face.

You made your way over to the guy’s room wing, having been there before to parties and so. And before you knew it, you had knocked on his door. You didn’t have to wait a long time before he appeared on it’s threshold, his normally perfectly combed hair being a mess, shirtless and with only a pair of sweats on. He looked like a mess, with red cheeks, swollen bitten lips, glassed eyes and shaky breathing.

“Harrington, what the hell are you…” a scream almost got ripped out of you at the harsh yank that took place on your arm. Before you knew it you had been pulled inside and smashed against the now closed door of his room, his body towering over yours and his breath caressing your face.

Fuck. You’ve never been this close before.

“You’re driving me insane.” he said, one of his hands cupping your cheek, dark shiny eyes connecting with yours before they’d drift back to your lips. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me all day. Knowing that Munson got to touch you, taste you… Is killing me. And him being in your room? Having you in his arms? Thinking about him just touching you is… Fuck.” you chocked. You didn’t understand. Wasn’t he supposed to hate you? Despise you? Then why…? “I can’t stop imagining him kissing you, holding you…” his thumb pressed over your bottom lip, tugging on it, admiring. “You were supposed to pay attention to me. You were supposed to think about me.” your heart was thumping against your ribs, and you felt like dying when he harshly kissed you. It was fast, and angry. His tongue was quick to push inside your mouth, your teeth clashing and your body being pulled against him. You whimpered, your hands finding his hair as you pulled him closer. You’d never felt that way. How your whole body seemed to combust, the shaking of your limbs, the thumping of your heart…

But what was going on? ‘Pay attention to him’? ‘Think of him’? What was that supposed to mean? Did Harrington always treat you badly to get your attention? To get under your skin one way or another?

You were burning, so badly that he felt like snow.

“Fuck.” he muttered as he pulled away. “Been dreaming of doing that since the first time you yelled at me.” you whimpered when his warm hands took a harsh hold of your waist, pulling you against him close and tight enough for you to feel just how hard he already was on his sweats.

His mouth was back on yours, and your whole world was spinning. His hair on your hands, his gasps against your lips, his musky scent…

“Yeah, that’s right.” he muttered, a little smirk showing in his factions when he noticed your daze and unfocused eyes. “Focus on me. Just me.” he whispered on your ear before his lips latched to your neck, sucking on your skin hard enough to mark you up. You moaned, his hands sneaking inside your pj’s shirt and slowly making its way upwards, towards your chest.

“Fuck, Harrington.” you gasped when his warm hands took your tits, massaging them and rolling your nipples in between his fingers as he pressed a leg in between your legs, making your aching pussy brush against the lean muscle of his thigh.

“Steve.” he corrected. “It’s Steve for you, baby.”

“Steve.” you moaned when he pushed upwards with his leg, helping you ride it.

“That’s right. But you need to say it a little bit louder, hm? Need to let everybody know that it’s me who you are moaning for.” you whimpered at his words, his large hands leaving your chest to take your hips and pick you up to make his way to his king size bed.

You felt almost crushed against the duvet when he pinned you down to it underneath his weight. Almost, ‘cause right at that exact moment, you just wished he could be closer, he could be harsher, smush you against the bed and fuck you senseless ‘till you are nothing more than a babbling mess.

“That’s right.” he smirked when you pulled him closer, choked when his hands where once again pulling your top up slowly. “Fuck. You drive me insane.” he muttered when your chest was fully uncovered. “Fucking beautiful.” you moaned when his mouth left wet kisses on your chest. His tongue circled your nipples as one of his hands made its way to the seam of your pajama pants and panties, which stood completely soaked in arousal.

“Steve.” you cried out when his fingers caressed you from over the lace of your underwear, chuckling at the wetness of them.

“You are so wet for me already, such a good girl…” you almost whimpered, your cheeks blushing at the praise, something that didn’t go unnoticed. “You liked that, hm? Like to be my good little girl?” you nodded, your legs shaking when he finally pushed down your underwear and pjs to touch you. You gasped when his rough and thick fingers pressed against your core, sliding through your folds, pooled in your arousal. “So fucking wet.” he cursed as he circled your clit, making you moan. His touch was electrifying. “Is all of this for me?” you once again nodded. “I need to hear your pretty voice. Speak up for me, sweetheart.”

“Yes… It’s all for you.” you managed to sputter out.

“Mmh…” he hummed happily with the answer, smirking when you let out a loud moan as he pushed his middle finger inside of you, instantly hitting that spongy spot that could make you come over and over again. “Then I guess that if it’s all for me… I could have a taste. Isn’t that right?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you suddenly felt his tongue around your clit at the same time as he thrusted his finger in and out of you, slowly enough to have you gripping at his hair and bucking your hips in search of more.

He complied, starting to eat you out like a man starved. And he kind of was, having been craving you for years and years… He craved you, needed you so badly that his composure had plummeted once you’ve told him that Munson had touched you, kissed you, tasted you first… He wanted you. Wanted you to be solely and completely his.

“Ah, Steve, shit…” you were so sensitive. More than usually. Was it because Steve was too good at eating you out or because it was Steve who was eating you out?

“Louder, baby. I need you to be louder for me.” he said before going back to you, his tongue lapping up at your juices and adding another finger. Their thickness made you cry out his name loud enough for the whole floor to hear. You just hoped that there was no teacher doing the check-ins that night or you’d be screwed.

“Steve, I’m… I’m gonna…” your grip tightened on his hair.

“You’re gonna come? Gonna come on my face, hm?” he curved his fingers upwards, relentlessly hitting your g spot over and over again, pulling you closer to your orgasm. “Go ahead, come for me. Let me have it.”

He didn’t need to say it twice. With his tongue back circling your clit, you moaned as you came, harsh, on his tongue, him helping you to extend you climax by thrusting in and out his fingers whilst lapping at your release, drinking everything you had to offer in between moans and hums.

When he let go of you, licking his two fingers clean, you where a flustered mess; with your hair sticking everywhere, red cheeks, swollen lips and glossy eyes. And he wasn’t that different from you, with his chin and red puffy lips shiny with your juices, his cheeks were flushed and his hair a beautiful mess that you had created in between tugs and caresses. He looked beautiful, so beautiful that you couldn’t help dragging him towards you to taste yourself off of his lips, one of your hands finding his aching and swollen cock, that pushed against his sweats in need of release. He groaned in your mouth, pulling from your hair to part ways.

“Steve…” you cried out, your eyes half-lidded with need, your pussy aching for him, for something to fill you to the brim, to stretch you out, break you.

“What is it, hm?” oh but he already knew… “Haven’t you had enough already? I gave you my fingers and my mouth, is that not enough for you? What a needy slut…” you moaned at his harsh tone and degradation, the contrast with the recent praise making your skin burn and your body cry for him. You needed him so badly… So much that you swore you could die. “Want me to fuck you, hm? Want me to make you cum all over my cock? Have you all brainless as I use you? Pump you full of my cum?”

“Yes please Steve, please, I want it.”

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under his touch and whimpering when he gave your thigh a harsh slap. “Can’t hear you, beautiful.”

“Yes.” you cried out, loving how harsh he was treating you, loving the idea that he would use you just for his pleasure.

“Then say it. Beg me to fuck you.” another spank.

“Please Steve, I want you to make me cum all over your cock, please, please, please… I need it. I need you.” tears swelled in your eyes as you stuttered.

“Good girl. Wasn’t that hard, was it?” he said with a smirk, quickly shoving his sweats and underwear down his thighs to discard them aside. You almost choked at his size. You couldn’t take that.

Steve’s dick was huge. So thick and large that you knew that he’d tear you apart, stretch you out so good that would leave you sobbing and drooling against his pillow as he fucked into you over and over again.

“Gonna let me fuck you raw? Let me cum inside and fill you up?” he inquired, and you just nodded, too focused on the pink of his head beaded in pre-cum, on the veins of its sides and the brown curls at its pretty base.

“Yes, please, Steve, I want your cum.” you pleaded, and he groaned, once again pinning you underneath him and kissing you feverishly. You parted your legs for him to position himself in between them. You gasped on his mouth when you felt his head play with your cunt, slowly dragging himself up and down in between your slicked folds to lube himself up, teasing you at your entrance, pushing just the slightest against it. You were so fucking wet… More than you had ever been before.

Your nails found his back as he finally, after hearing your pleads and begging, aligned himself and started to push the tip of his cock inside, leaving you breathless at the stretch.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” he hushed you as you whimpered with every inch. “You are gonna do good for me, isn't that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, right?” you nodded, sinking your nails deeper in his skin, deep enough to make him bleed. But Steve didn’t care, ‘cause he was finally making you his, and you were so goddamn tight he was losing his mind.

You were crying of pleasure and due to the overwhelming sensation of his huge cock when he finally had settled himself fully inside, his tip reaching places you’d never dreamed of, his girth stretching your walls so good it was almost painful. Almost.

"Fuck. Look at you. Already crying and I haven't begun to fuck you yet.” you moaned when he started to slowly fuck into you, so deep that you were going crazy. You needed more, so much more. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”

“More. Please Steve, more.” you called out for him, your whimpers filling the room more and more as he started to move faster and faster.

“Yeah, that’s right. Fucking take it.” he groaned, lost on how good you felt. He never wanted to leave. Never wanted to stop feeling you this close. “Such a good girl.”

You moaned, your eyes turning white at the pleasure. This was like nothing you had experienced before.

“Tell me, did Munson fucked you this good, huh?” he asked, taking your cheeks with his right hand as he rolled your clit with his left to make you look at him. “Did he make you drool? Made you cry?”

You shook your head, but he wasn’t happy with that.

“Say it. Say that no one’s has fucked you like me. Say it, baby. Use that pretty mouth of yours.”

“No one has ever… ever fucked me like you.” you somehow achieved to say in between moans and gasps.

“That’s right. Look at you, your pussy is taking me so good… Sucking me in as if you don’t want me to leave.”

Suddenly you were in all fours, your chest against the mattress as he pounded inside of you harder and harder, so hard that you could feel him in your cervix, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried out, drooling on his pillow, tears spilling due to how good he was making you feel.

His hands found your hips, pulling you against his hips with every hard thrust, leaving you breathless.

You were a babbling and moaning mess, incapable to form any words, even his name.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even speak.” he said, and moaned when you clenched around him. “Such a slut.” you whimpered when he gave you a harsh slap on your ass, his eyes focusing on how his dick disappeared in and out of your pussy, which now seemed to be molding around him and just him.

“Steve…” you dragged the ‘s’ as he sped up, fucking you brainless, calling his name over and over again.

He could feel the way you started to clench around him. The wet noises of your juices and his thrusts filled the room with your high pitched moans. You were close. So fucking close…

“Steve, I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna…” your voice was so fucked up due to your screams that you swore you’d have a sore throat tomorrow morning, but you didn’t care.

“That’s alright sweetheart. Why don’t you come all over my dick, hm? Let me see you fall apart.” and you did. You came so hard you saw stars, your ears ringing as you squirted all over his bed sheets. “Fuck, good girl. Good. fucking. girl.” he groaned at the sight and the feeling of your cunt gushing around his whole cock. “I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck you so full of me I’d have you dripping for a week.”

“Yes, please… please, please, Steve…please.” you babbled as you came over and over again, throwing him over the edge with a ‘fuck’ and moaning when you felt him spill inside you, painting your walls in white.

And maybe and just maybe, you stopped hating Steve that much from now on.

‘Cause we all know what they say… From hatred to love there is only one step.

a/n;

i hoped y’all liked this college stevie!! love you!!!!

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<33333

2K notes · View notes

imdonewiththisblogsblog · 8 months

Text

Sun wokung: *looks at MK*

Sun wokung: Baby boy. Baby.

Sun wokung: *looks at Tang *

Sun wokung: Evil.

*While the Squad is in a battle*

Macaque , trying to warn about the location of an enemy: To the left!

MK: Take it back now y'all!

Sun wokung: Pfft, you should meet Macaque , they're such a tsundere.

Tang : They... they just stabbed you.

Sun wokung: So cute.

Mei: Did you win? Or just not die?

Mei: Either way, hooray.

Macaque : ...Is "no" a valid answer?

Mei: The hooray is redacted and you frighten me.

MK: Your smug self-assuredness is revolting.

Red son: I think we need to validate self confidence more, lest you end up angry at others for having even a sliver of it. I've done nothing wrong and I have a heart of gold.

Sandy: I think this message is extremely valid, but also Red son has implied wanting to set off the Yellowstone supervolcano, so what's the truth?

Red son: I want to set it off.

Tang : What's the worst thing you guys have done?

Sandy: Rickrolled my teacher in 4th grade.

Red son: I kicked MK in the shin-

MK: -So I kicked Red son between the legs.

Macaque : I burned a town down.

Tang : What?!

MK: What the hell is wrong with you?!?

Macaque : A lot of things.

Red son: No shit.

Mei: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Tang ?

Tang : Macaque , easily.

Macaque , laughing: What the fuck, man.

Tang : Well, Pigsy would be too easy. They’d probably be into it.

Pigsy, now standing in the doorway: What the fuck, man!?

Tang : What makes you all smile?

Mei: Friends and Family.

Red son: Snacks.

Macaque : Victory and success.

Sun wokung: Face muscles.

Pigsy: You know what the problem is? Your really cute, so no one ever told you to shut your pie-hole.

Tang : You think I’m cute?

Pigsy: SHUT YOUR PIE-HOLE!

Macaque : Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Sun wokung!

Sun wokung: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

MK: I have a plan.

Tang : I have the hospital and Mei on speed dial.

Pigsy: I suppose you’re right. We really would be better off working together.

Tang : So, then… détente?

Pigsy: Agreed.

Tang : Understanding?

Pigsy: Possibly.

Tang : Cooperation?

Pigsy: Maybe.

Tang : Trust?

Pigsy: Out of the question.

Tang : What’s your biggest fear?

MK: I am incredibly arachnophobic.

Tang , under their breath: You don’t want spiders to get married?

MK: You’re my best friend, I would do anything for you.

Mei: I want you to eat 3 meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule.

MK: Absolutely not.

Sun wokung: I reserve the right to judge a movie based on when it was made, thank you very much.

Macaque : You consider anything made before 2000 old and bad.

Sun wokung: And I reserve that right! After all....

Sun wokung: I bet you wouldn’t like the average movie made in 1879!

Macaque : There were no movies made in 1879.

Sun wokung: *slams table* WRONG! There was ONE movie made in 1879! The first movie! A zoopraxioscope of a horse galloping!

Mei: Oooh! Let’s go ask MK if they saw it in theatres!

Mei: Ah, yes. Here we have a beautiful couple...

Pigsy: I really care about your feelings!

Tang : I really care about YOUR feelings!

Mei, turning their head: ...and then there's the disaster couple...

Macaque : YOU NEED TO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME INSTEAD OF BEING AT THE HOSPITAL!

Sun wokung: I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME AT THE HOSPITAL IF YOU STOPPED INSISTING ON FIGHTING EVERYONE WHO COMES WITHIN A FIVE FOOT RADIUS OF YOU!

#lmk macaque #lmk sun wukong #shadowpeach #LMK #lmk spicynoodles

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epiclamer · 2 years

Note

Can you please please pleaseeeee do a part 2 of Blood Shot it's amazing 😍✨

Also a gift for you 🐈(it's a villainous cat😜)

MY WIFE!!!

Part 1

Blood Shot Pt. 2

With every passing second, Hero felt unease growing in a pit in their stomach. Still no word back from their teammates who had gone out to defeat the superhero.

Yet, the villain, whom now sat comfortably on a plush, leather sofa, didn’t seem even the least bit worried. Picking at their cuticles while they rested their feet on Hero’s back.

So it was true, the great Hero had finally been reduced to a compliant puppet. Not with any mind games, not with rigorous training or torture, no they had done it out of freewill.

That was honestly the worst part.

That they were down on the ground, hands and knees position with their head down, allowing the villain to use them as a footrest as they awaited news. And their teammates sure seemed to be taking their sweet, sweet time getting back.

Neither Villain nor Hero had spoken since the criminal had given the command to the other. After the villain was satisfied, they had turned to self grooming. Hardly paying the hero any mind as they combed their hair with their hand and picked at the grime under their fingernails.

Hero couldn’t blame them, being chained up in that cell for so long didn’t exactly give them any room for a self-care routine. Tortured for information they didn’t have led to blood stained clothes and crusted over wounds with no shower to wash it all off, the villain stunk.

They didn’t necessarily look all that majestic either. But the hero didn’t dare say a thing, after all, they were the one who had put Villain in that cell in the first place.

This wasn’t exactly a reuniting of old friends.

No, Hero and Villain went way back. To days of silly banter and pulled punches, to darker times of bloody fights and brutalizing. It was safe to say after the villain had been caught, Hero avoided their cell at all times.

No visits, no interrogations, not even a food or water drop-in. They never went. Not because they didn’t want to—they actually wanted nothing more than to apologize—but because they didn’t want to see them.

They couldn’t face the beaten villain, swallowed by chains and scars; the villain that they had created by handcuffing them that one night. The night they had taken advantage of Villains injuries to capture them, they hadn’t even caught them fair and square.

Fuck, they needed to get out of their own head or they’d just keep spiralling into the past. Villain was free now anyways! Surely they didn’t hold anything against the hero, right? They were just doing their job…

“Are they okay? Have you heard—”

“Shhh…” The villain shushed them. Shushed them. “Did I give you permission to speak?”

Hero would deny the blush that coated their face at the words for the rest of their life.

“You don’t speak without my signal from now on, understood? And if you have something important to say you beg me to let you say it.” Villain leaned forwards, putting more pressure onto the hero’s back. “Got that, sweetie?”

The crime-stopper made a show of avoiding eye contact, starting a staring contest with the intricately patterned rug beneath them as a distraction. At least their team wasn’t here to witness this embarrassment.

A lump formed in their throat and they didn’t even think of opening their mouth to release the humiliating croak. Maybe if Villain wasn’t aware of their affect then they would stop with the godforsaken teasing. They were doing it on purpose of course, to replicate the banter they used to toss around before Hero decided they were the enemy.

Villain grinned at the lack of response, leaning back against the sofa as they stretched their arms out. “But to answer your question, I’m sure they’re fine. You have a capable team, with my brain Superhero doesn’t stand a chance.”

That reassured the hero just the slightest bit. The villain’s tone was blunt, almost bored, as if they had been planning this their whole imprisonment. That wasn’t as reassuring. Knowing that their nemesis had been planning their humiliation for so long only meant they had things much worse in store.

“And when they get back, little hero, we’ll make a deal of sorts. I defeated Superhero, so I get to choose a trophy.”

All of Hero’s hopes and dreams came crashing down that very second. They knew exactly what Villain was getting at and they also knew there was nothing they could do to stop it.

“And,” Villain chuckled, “I choose you.”

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starryslytherin0 · 12 days

Note

rypnami (think I spelled it right) Mc ask game 😊

For Cari ✨

7, 12, 20

Ava 💕

2, 16, 27

AHHHHH OMG OMG AN ASK ABT MY MCS THIS IS A LITTLE BLESSING OH MY GAWD IM LITERAL HYPERVENTILATING. (Not me having to find the ask game 💀)

Cari✨:

7) “what is your mc’s backstory as to why they didn’t join hogwarts until 5th year? or did you retcon that part of the story when creating them?”

They went to the Irish wizarding school up until 4th year but then had to move to England as Andrew (Cariads + Liams father) had passed away, leaving them with no income except Elise’s (Cariads mother) job at the bakery and weekend job at the local pub. So they moved to England, where Liam already attended hogwarts, in the hopes of rebuilding their life (they did)

12) “did your mc open the repository? why or why not?”

She didn’t open the repository. She saw what power can do to you. How it can change you. She didn’t want to risk being out of control of herself. Didn’t want to risk accidentally hurting anyone.

20) “does your mc have a favourite spell? if so, what is it and why do they like it the most?” Cariad is very partial to Aresto Momentum. This may seem random but Cariad loves a strategy so she sometimes needs time to pause the enemy to get her frantic thoughts in order.

Avie 💕

2) “if they could choose what animagus form they would take, would it be the same? or would they want to have a different animal form?” A cat to get more Sylvia cuddles. Jokes, jokes. But it would most likely be a cat, as they aren’t suspicious whatsoever, allowing her to be more efficient and effective when completing certain tasks where she needs to be under the radar.

16) “did your mc learn the unforgivables? why or why not?”

she learnt Imperio, that was it. She didn’t want Crucio, after tasting the spell herself, it was a pain she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemies, it was inhumane. And no Avada either because “what gives her the right to take someone’s life? A person, like her, with friends, families, hopes, dreams.”

27) “if your mc wasn’t in their current house, where would they have been sorted? why do you think they’d be there?”

She’d most likely be in Gryffindor or Slytherin honestly. I made her a hufflepuff because I knew I wanted my character to be kind and loyal to a fault, as well as hard working. But she may be a Gryffindor for her bravery and chivalry or a slytherin because she may seem single minded but it’s important to her to fulfil your ambitions and get what you want from a situation.

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK BABY GIRL ILYSM❤️❤️❤️

#cariad faiythe #avania chase #hogwarts legacy #ask game #ask game answers #this was such a nice surprise Omg #I had so my fun with this

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imp-thing · 10 months

Text

Spoilers for The Mermaid’s Tongue

Judging the suspects on what they might be like based off their silhouettes because I feel judgmental and annoying

———

- I’m noticing the small little circle I’m guessing that’s either a monocle or glasses. Resulting in these ideas, they’re either fancy or smart/nerdy.

- I’m leaning more towards smart/nerdy, the way he’s posed is just giving that vibe, yk?

- probably a lil goofy. A lil silly.

- I feel like this person is the youngest of the characters.

- probably immature and energetic, how I like my characters tbh.

- is that little thing sticking out of its head a tongue? Does this person have a giant tongue? Is it a person??

- That small hat thing it has is making me think that he’s supposed to smart, but the size of the head compared to the body is also making me think he’s dumb as hell

- I think he’d maybe give off sorta father-like vibes if he’s the latter and just a grumpy middle aged guy if the former

- If this person is a dude (which it probably is), I’m betting he’s gonna be kind of annoying.

- I apparently keep hearing that there’s a character that is apparently a character who’s a doctor (or at least goes by Dr.) and I’m assuming it’s this dude. That hair and pipe….. you can tell man.

- Old. Not too old, but middle age old.

- Smart. Most likely. And I’m guessing he’s gonna bully Grimoire for being dumb

- He’s giving off as if he knows/is friends with Professor pointer. Or at least looks like he would. Or maybe they’d be/are the worst of enemies, who knows.

- Oh I can TELL you’re gonna be cocky as shit.

- He looks like he’d say, “won’t you shake a poor sinner’s hand?”

- I’m betting that hat looks like a jellyfish

- Grimoire is probably going to HATE him and this dude would bully him EVERY TIME HE’D GET THE CHANCE. (Toxic yaoi /j)

- He can probably beat someone up and is willing to

- I sorta think he’d be a strong and silent type but not like a Fitz 2.0, I feel like if he were to speak he’s threaten the person he’d speak to.

- before we get into this one PLEASE TELL ME IM NOT THE ONLY ONE THINKS THIS SILHOUETTE LOOKS LIKE FUKAMI FROM OKEGOM

- Probably one of if not the only girl here

- Probably willing to beat someone up

- I think she’s kinda like hawkshaw but more talkative in a way if that makes sense?

- Her and Sally are gonna get along

- If anyone is going to be the murderer, I genuinely hope it’s not her

- Ik we already know the looks of this dude, but I’ll say that he looks like a pirate fan/would act like a pirate in a way, that’s all

- I also wanna tug at his hair, I feel like it’s snap if you pulled hard enough, it looks kinda rocky and solid

———

Okay that’s it I’m gonna go get something to eat

#detective grimoire #tangle tower #the mermaid’s tongue #mermaid’s tongue #mermaids tongue

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burningtacozombie · 2 years

Text

I haven’t done one of these posts in a really long time but with Mayans MC basically right in front of the finish line, I suppose it’s time to get back to the speculation.

before the announcement of the show coming to an end I had a ton of wishes, hopes, theories and expectations for season 5. after the announcement I threw out all of them and reduced it to only one highly unlikely wish - Miguel Galindo makes it out alive.

I say highly unlikely because as I was talking it over with a friend earlier today the both of us realized that there are a lot of people with a lot of reasons to want him dead. so bear with me while I’m going through them all because I need to prepare myself for the worst-case scenario.

EZ: this showdown has been a long time coming. they have been enemy-like rivals from day 1 and we’ve been waiting for a standoff between them since then. if it came down to it, I doubt either one of them would care about the fact they’re brothers. and given TPTB “knew for a long time how it’s going to end”, I don’t think they’d let Miguel win. I do however think EZ being the one would be too obvious, too simple and I’d hate it. EZ has taken enough from Miguel, he doesn’t get to take his life.

Emily: for her it could be a way to free herself and Cristobal of the unsurmountable control Miguel will undoubtedly enforce upon her once she comes back home. one last act of rebellion against his power so to speak, regardless if it would have been planned or in a freak accident in a loud and violent fight.

Felipe: depending on how Miguel and Felipe’s conversation is going to work out and if he can convince Miguel not to go after Angel and EZ for what they did to his mother, Felipe might be thinking he needs to protect them from him. kind of a sacrifice one son to protect the other two situation, even if he’d feel horrible afterwards and never forgive himself.

Adelita: she could want to finish what she started when she killed Palomo and framed Miguel for it.or she could want him out of the partnership with Soledad and take his place in their deal herself. she has been out of the loop for a long time but the first step back into the game was made when she killed El Banquero.

Soledad: if she thinks it was Miguel who torched their drug warehouse, she would definitely want to remove herself from a partnership with him and get revenge for it. he has no reason to have actually done it but he’s been framed for things he didn’t do before, and Soledad is probably not an easy person to earn back trust from once it has been damaged like that.

Potter: for him it could be a way to sneak (back) into literally anyone’s life if he thinks his target “owes him a favor”. who knows what he already wants from Adelita, there could be a lot more brewing. from Emily he could want more cooperation in exchange for her and Cristobal’s safety. EZ and Angel would have to get back into it with him again if Potter takes out a Miguel who’s still coming after them. even the club as a whole could be a little bit more willing to do his bidding, however that would look like. but oh boy, with that Creeper situation going on they sure could use a corrupt fed to communicate with.

no, I don’t think it would be Angel, Nestor or El Padrino so there’s no need to list them here but long story short, it will be a fucking miracle if Miguel Galindo survives this last season. or if he even makes it past, I’d guess, episode 5 for that matter. it’s brutal talking about him as a dead man walking because I love him with my whore whole mind, body, and soul and will defend him in any way possible but like I said... trying to prepare for the worst-case scenario and all that.

#danny pino #miguel galindo #jd pardo #ez reyes #clayton cardenas #angel reyes #sarah bolger #emily galindo #edward james olmos #felipe reyes #mayans mc #mayans fx

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lyanth-publishing-house · 2 years

Text

"A dragon and a demon? Together? no way." Headcanons

A/N: or just canon since they’re mine…. anywho Hi! I got overly excited and wanted to gush about Monica and Verioth on main so here we go!

And if u saw the other post? No u didn’t.

Warnings(?): Somewhat yandere tendencies…?, casually glossed over death threats and violence, vaguely mentioned dragon shenanigans, scary monster x even scarier monster (guess who’s who)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ah, Verioth

My sweet, 7’7, dragon shifter…

He loves his wife.

His scary, dream demon wife.

That’s it, that’s the post.

No but for real though he’s absolutely whipped—

And tbh? Monica is no better.

She’d do anything just to see him smile really. Even murder.

Especially murder.

They’re a bit…unhinged.

It’s fine.

Despite all of that, they didn’t get off on the right foot exactly…

With Monica appearing on the Isle suddenly, and Verioth nearly killing her…

“I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

“If I wanted you dead? You’d be dead.”

And once she said that? Demon eyes and all?

He. Was. Gone.

Forever.

Developed the absolute worst crush that got even worse once they were out of the eternal enemies stage and into the “we hang out sometimes” stage.

Verioth is a dragon, what do you want from him? He likes his women violent.

There are also other, more lore-heavy reasons for that but spoilers people spoilers.

But yeaaahhh before they got married (among other things) he was down bad.

Again they went through the whole enemies to friends to lovers pipeline he was in it deep for a while.

And he didn’t even realize it half of the time tbh.

“What are you talking about? She lives here of course I’m going to be nice.”

“We hang out sometimes it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I don’t— I’m not staring at her—”

When he does finally acknowledge it he’s a nervous wreck btw. He avoided her for 2 weeks, much to her confusion.

“We had movie night…”

He felt awful and came right back :’)

And btw Monica didn’t have it easy either.

She also didn’t realize she had a crush on him until it was too late.

They were just hanging out one day and she told a stupid joke and he laughed

She watched as the corners of his lips quirked up a bit before he finally broke down and it did something to her.

She just wanted to hear his laugh all day for the rest of her lif—

Oh nO–

They were besties with a lot of feelings

A lot of pent-up feelings that they refused to address.

Much to the distress of the others.

“She likes you back.” “You’re seeing things.”

“He’s been in love with you for months!” “I’m pretty sure I’d have noticed.” “You two are lovestruck idiots, of course, you haven’t!”

Oblivious little dummies.

And then one day they went out on a “not date”, got cornered by some mercenaries who were wildly unprepared, and then one major adrenaline-fueled makeout session later—

Yeah, they dating.

And they didn’t tell their shared friend group for about a year (15 months their time) because they knew they wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Heyy Monnie, have you seen Verioth anywhere?”

“Nope, haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

A few moments later…..

“think he bought it?”

And once the cat got out of the bag? they found out they placed bets.

One half thought Monica was gonna fess up first

The others thought Verioth would crack under pressure

And only Oz, our other resident giant of a man (dragon technically) said they’d probably figure it out at the same time

Safe to say his collection of gold got bigger that day.

They’re a mess. But they absolutely love each other and that’s all that matters.

————-

A/N: I just love them sm dude ;-; thanks for reading!

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the-whumpening · 7 months

Text

My Own Worst Enemy, Part 2 [Son of Bat]

Prev | Masterpost | Next

This part is a little shorter. I tried to make the specifics of the medical stuff as accurate as I could, but I definitely could've made mistakes so . . . we'll call it "suspension of disbelief" lol

CW: abusive parents, medical content, hospital setting

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The weeks that followed were a living hell.

James’ condition, as the doctor described it, was “unpredictable.” While they could set the bones and sew up the cuts, his body would have to set the pace for everything else. There was no telling whether or not his internal bleeding would heal on its own, how long he would have to be sedated, or how his brain would be affected.

(“I don’t know why you have to be so difficult all the time!”

I’m not! Why can’t you just leave me alone?!

“You don’t care about anyone but yourself, do you?”

Stop it!

“This is why you don’t have any friends.”

Shut up! Shutupshutupshutup!

“I have never met such an ungrateful, disrespectful child!”

What do I have to be grateful for?! To come home and be screamed at every day?

“Fine, I guess I’m just the worst parent in the world. I only clothed you and fed you and put a roof over your head—you’re both just better off without me!”

Mom!)

“Hi, sweetie. I don’t know if you can hear me . . . ” (Huh?) “I love you so, so much. You don’t deserve any of this. Please, wake up soon . . .”

(What is this? What’s going on?)

Debby rarely left his side; she couldn’t bear the thought of him being alone, especially if he awoke with no one around. Not that the others were much different—all three fought to stay with him as long as possible. They tried to take care of one another, made sure they all slept and ate and had time away from the dim hospital room, but it was difficult when all they could think about was James.

(“You’re killing your mother with this stupid acting out; why can’t you just behave like [----]?!”

Wait, who?

“Don’t get smart with me! If I was half this disrespectful to my parents, they’d have thrown me out to pick my own switch to beat me with!”

Dad? Where am I?)

Vince spoke little, withdrawing into himself. There were days he couldn’t even sit beside James, posting guard in the corner instead. The nurses encouraged him to engage with James—any stimulation was good for his brain, even if he can’t process it right now—so he took to reading aloud. It wasn’t talking, not exactly, but the sound of Vince’s voice seemed to have a positive effect on him either way. He started with bits and pieces from biographies and nature magazines he had saved to read on the work trip with Cass, then some of James’ books brought in from his room. One night, when he was the only one around, he brought a thin chapter book he’d read to James as a small child. He read it over and over again during those two long weeks.

“After James Henry Trotter had been living with his aunts for three whole years, there came a morning when something rather peculiar happened to him.”

(This can’t be right . . . Vince read me this story. When was it? Last night?

“What are you doing up?”

Can I sleep in your room tonight?

“I dunno . . . ”

Please! It’s too dark in there!)

“And trembling, James stood alone out in the open, wondering what to do. The night was all around him now, and high overhead a wild white moon was riding in the sky. There was not a sound, not a movement anywhere.”

(“Well . . . Okay. Come on, I’ll read you a story and maybe you’ll feel a little better.”

J-A-M-E-S . . . It’s got my name!

“Yeah, and he’s a smart kid, too. Just like you. But listen, we gotta be quiet, okay? Mom will be mad if she hears us.”

Okay, got it.

“Why are you two still awake? I told you to go to bed an hour ago!” But—! “James! Quit being a baby and go back to your room. You are too old to be scared of the dark and whining over a nightlight.”)

(“As long as you live under my roof, you obey my rules!”

I’m not cutting my hair.

“Did I phrase that as a question?”)

There was an unspoken agreement among the group to respect James’ privacy as much as possible; of the four, Molly had been the only one to ever see him nude on purpose, after all. Although James wasn’t prudish per se, they knew he would’ve been embarrassed if his brothers had seen him be cleaned of his own filth, among other things. So Debby and Molly took the lead on caring for him, delegating less invasive tasks to the boys. Even Debby looked away when the nurses helped Molly clean his lower half.

(Get off of me! Let go!)

“Leave a light on for him. I know his eyes are closed, but . . . I think it makes him calmer.”

“It’s okay, J. You’ll be okay.”

“L . . . Love you, bro.”

Who . . . ? I know you. I know all these voices. But why . . . why are they so kind?

“We miss you.”

It took over two weeks for James' brain to recover from the swelling. Thankfully, the majority of his physical injuries had also been addressed in that time as well; he'd been in and out of surgeries to reset his fractured bones, which had also stopped swelling long enough to treat. His bleeding seemed to have quelled, and many of the lacerations were looking better.

As the doctor administered the medication into his IV, James was brought out of his deep sleep.

#whump writing #whump #tw injury #injury whump #sickfic #hurt/comfort #son of bat #tw hospital #coma whump #medical tw #do you recognize the book vince is reading?#the redacted bit is vince's deadname #which will remain redacted #whumpblr #rublewriting

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noahtally-famous · 1 year

Text

rewatching ridonculous race and I just came up with the wildest 'crack' thought that would prob be single-handedly genius or The Worst Thing Ever.

as usual I’m making it everyone’s problem lmao

a Dave & Keith duo team participating in the race. And their team name is ‘liked the same girl’ or smth like that idk

some extra details:

Sky definitely forced them into it as a ‘Bonding Experience’ bc of the complaining and arguing (and plus she was tired af of how annoying they are). I like to think after PI, Dave approached her and genuinely actually apologized for his actions, like he finally realized how unhinged he turned into and regretted it, and she apologized too for leading him on and not handling the situation better, and they respected the ultimate decision to not date but remained a weird combo of acquaintance-friends. there was a lot of apologizing, crying (bc of course there is), words said, and it took a while but they overcame that massive hurdle.

naturally, Keith isn’t so quick to trust the guy though, and Dave still has bad memories abt him so the tension between them still remains thick.

them arguing legit the entire time they’re on, and live to make each others lives more annoying while facepalming at the others stupidity. (they're a hit among the viewers btw, bc of course they are)

“says the girlfriend-kisser!” “for the last time, I didn’t know you two were dating or else I wouldn’t have kissed her!” “pfft. yeah that’s what you’d like to think.” “uh, yeah, I do think that. because her lips have touched yours and who knows how disgusting your lips are and where they’ve been.” “excuse me, you take that back right now!” “I don’t hear you denying it, bad kisser.” “is that the best you’ve got, Mr. Not Getting Any?” "that's not what the girl you thought liked you was thinking when she kissed me--oh, too soon?" "I will fucking murder you."

everyone else, hearing this go down: what the fuck

homoerotic tension but no one rlly knows whether that tension is due to them actually having underlying emotions other than ‘deep dislike’ or whether that’s just an add-on to their rivalry and they’re just dumb enough to say stuff with double meanings

similar to the point above, no one rlly knows whether to consider them ‘dating but doesn’t know it yet’ or simply enemies

Dwayne Sr. and Dwayne Jr. watching Pahkitew Island on the plane rides and bombarding Dave with questions abt his time there, and making fun of certain parts of the show. Keith is happy to indulge if it means making fun of Dave’s worst moments (“which are like all of them!” “at least I had guts to audition for that damn show.” “are you calling me a coward?” “congratulations. you’ve connected the dots.”)

idk whether they’d end up having a rivalry with another team or if they’re so invested in each other that no one else wants to get between that lmao

it’s funny bc they waste no time rubbing each other the wrong way, but for the sake of winning challenges they’d set aside their rivalry temporarily and work together (and ironically, they make a pretty good team). idk how they’d react if another team made fun of either of them—probably not the most positive; I feel like they’d be the type to laugh at the others misery/frustration at first, but if a certain line is crossed, intervention occurs.

I’ve this silly hc that Noah and Dave are family friends, so interactions between them and the occasional Keith ones are bound to be interesting

I literally don’t know what Keith would look like. When I was younger, I imagined him looking like a sort-of Duncan without the dyed hair (yeah, idk either). But now I’m like ‘would Sky rlly date a guy like that? she’d want to be with someone more sporty and athletic and competitive, probably.’ and now I’m stumped on trying to imagine Keith looks-wise 😭

perhaps he's a combination of the two?? bc I also can't see Sky dating the jockest jock to ever jock lmfao

they have to go through the sewage system in the prison episode, and Dave gets flashbacks from Pahkitew and he's all 'nope, not happening. I'm not touching that disgusting water, do you know how many germs and bacterias are in there?', so Keith's like 'ffs you dramatic shit' and has to carry Dave or piggy-back him until they reach the exit while Dave's alternating between clinging to him like a koala and leaning as far away from him as possible without falling off. (I'm sensing potential bonding over Dave's germaphobia and stuff).

Keith def kept up on the Pahkitew Island season so he knows exactly what Dave is talking abt when he refers to certain episodes.

The Haters/Daters love them, they're all like "those two know what's up. they're exactly like us" and Keith & Dave are like "...no we're not??" and the Haters/Daters are like "you're not dating?!"

Keith doesn't lose his shit easily, he's actually pretty chill and patient--which makes sense given in most sports, you gotta be patient. (Dave's the one who gets all emotional tbvh.) But, naturally, Dave's the only exception when it comes to the whole 'not losing shit easily' deal

"he's your boyfriend. you calm him down." "he's YOUR family friend though?! and for the last time, we're not dating!" -- a Noah and Keith interaction

#i had this sitting in my drafts for weeks lmfao #i'd already finished rewatching ridonculous race but yeah this would be pretty wild imo #td dave #td keith #is that even a tag lmao #the ridonculous race #total drama pahkitew island #td sky #kit speaks #kit stuff #td #tdpi #tdrr #anyway #pls don't take this too seriously #this was just smth I thought up at like three in the morning 😭#noahtally-famous

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bitchesofostwick · 2 years

Text

quiet mornings

a gift for @zevrn for our server’s end of year gift exchange! ❤️

***

Anyone else might hate waking up alone, but not Sadia. Anyone else. Leliana would always make a point to greet Meat Pie each morning. Alistair would pop his head into Sadia’s tent—Maker forbid Zev was in it too—just to say hello. Wynne was the worst. She always had to say good morning to everyone, and to offer a cup of tea or some porridge to anyone passing her by too. But even Morrigan, even Sten—both found each others’ silence a warm enough greeting to start the day.

Sadia happens to like the quiet. She likes peace. It doesn’t matter that she’d fallen asleep in Zevran’s arms the night before. The fact that the blankets are cool beside her and there’s no familiar soft snore in her ear brings her little if any concern.

For one, Zevran likes to go off unannounced sometimes. It’s in his nature.

And for two, she enjoys the time alone.

She stretches her arms back, back until her knuckles graze the headboard, closing her eyes once more just long enough to take a deep breath. It’s bright today. There’s sun outside. The little inn they’re staying at isn’t loud, at least not yet, and best of all, it’s warm. She hums a little tune to herself as she sits up, rolling her shoulders back, combing her fingers through her silky ash brown hair.

Her pack sits in the corner where she’d left it the night before. So does her sword, her shield, her Grey Warden armor.

Zev’s knives are missing.

She cocks an eyebrow at that. And she continues with her morning.

She rummages through her pack for something clean to wear, pulling out a soft cream-colored tunic and leggings she’s yet to get any blood on this week. Her socks come next, then her boots, and finally, she ties her hair into a high ponytail, smoothing out any bumps in one swift wave of her hand.

Part of her resents that she’s ready so quickly—she doesn’t quite want to leave the little room and return to the main tavern of the inn, but she’s loathe to sit idly either. A walk might be nice, she thinks; for a ghost of a moment she worries that Zevran might be concerned if she’s gone when he returns. The thought vanishes almost as quickly as it had formed, though. Zev can track anyone.

“Warden,” the innkeeper grunts with a stiff nod when she descends the creaky wooden stairs into the tavern.

She raises a silent hand in response, passing him by without a second glance.

“Yer boyfriend’s already—”

“I know.” She continues past the bar, past the warm fireplace, past the dusty vacant tables to the door. “I’ll be back.”

The air is crisp outside, drier than she remembers the Bannorn being, but then, it’s still early. Early enough that the grass is tipped with frost, that her breath billows out in puffs from her nose. Even the birds seem quiet. She stretches her arms again. There’s time for a stroll. She’s in the Bannorn for recruiting of all things, and I can’t recruit if there isn’t a Fereldan within five leagues of here awake to be recruited.

So she walks the empty dirt road alone, the peace and stillness more than welcome when there’s a day of consorting and posturing ahead of her. And she reflects. Zevran’s company was not something she accounted for on this trip, you don’t have to come, she’d told him in earnest, you’re not bound to the Wardens like I am, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

The lovely thing, mi armor, he’d told her, about not being bound to anything anymore is that I can go wherever I want. Which right now is wherever you are.

She can’t say she’s not grateful for his company—though she enjoys the solitude of traveling on her own, it’s the taverns, the towns, the little roadside inns where she appreciates his glib tongue and charismatic demeanor. Zev can make friends anywhere he goes, she thinks, just as easily as he can make enemies. It’s all in the tone of his voice and whether or not he decides to take his knives out of their sheathes. But it’s always in his control.

They’d departed not one week ago but she’s already grown tired of the recruitment tour. The conscription is such a delicate dance: pander without pleading, promote without soliciting, appeal without outright lying of the bleak future to come. Of what exactly they’re all signing up for. And that’s just for those who join of their own volition—it’s nothing to say of the thieves, the vagrants, the outcasts. The prisoners on death row joining up because the alternative is the hangman’s rope, the elves from the alienage like herself wo enlist because it’s better to die as a hero than to live as a second-class citizen.

Those are the recruits that trouble her the most. The reason she’s most grateful to have Zevran at her side each night as she navigates the task given to her not just for now but for the rest of her life.

She flexes her fingers again, straightening her shoulders and putting on a seasoned, practiced good face for the empty road before her, reminding herself to savor the kindness of the calm morning before the long day ahead. The cool air feels good in her lungs, the gritty dirt and gravel crunching pleasantly beneath her feet with each step a welcome sound on the otherwise quiet road. Her stomach growls a little—there’ll be food back at the inn, she thinks, though perhaps I should have brought an apple or something. The bright sky makes her head tinge a bit in pain. Could need some coffee, she notes, better not be anything more. She walks quickly, with purpose, until her cold cheeks feel a bit more rosy and her breath is steady, until her sleep-laden legs feel loose and limber. She makes her way well past the small grove of trees surrounding the inn, over a small brook, to the edges of a little farm where finally the dense silence is permeated by cows mooing in the distance and the creak of a little windmill not far away.

Only then does she decide to turn around.

On the return walk, a pair of humans pass her on horseback, and though they pass quickly and pay her little mind, a part of her regrets not bringing along her sword. But the time grows later and not long after, another human passes her by, this time on a horse-drawn cart and carrying goods. She finds herself increasing her pace, only slowing once to nod at a pair of dwarven merchants, again to wave hello to an elven traveler. The road grows silent again when she reaches the trees. But then, I’m almost back.

It’s under the cover of the tree shade that she wishes, a second time, that she had brought her sword. She can’t help but feel a pair of eyes on her, though she keeps a steady pace, standing as tall as she can, as strong as she can.

She thinks she hears a twig snap behind her. Careless, she thinks finally, unless they want—

“I wanted to be found,” Zevran says with a grin, raising his arms in feigned surrender when she whips around to face him, fists pulled tightly in front of her.

Maker’s breath.

His own face is flushed from the chilly morning, though it sports a grin she could never muster before coffee and breakfast. He’s dressed and armed and looking spry as ever, utterly unbothered that she’s wound up her arm and could have landed a punch at a moment’s notice.

But I do love him.

“Zev—”

“Good morning, my Sadia.”

Finally, she relaxes, loosens her fingers, lets her arms fall to her sides, and he takes that as permission to kiss her, softly and sweetly, before pulling back again. His smile never once falters.

“Good morning.” She narrows her eyes at him. “You weren’t there when I woke up.”

He chuckles, low and throaty, before kissing her again. “You’re very welcome.”

He’s done it now. Finally, she gives up trying to stop the little grin that pulls at her own lips. He knows her too well. “Thank you.”

He takes her hand as they start toward the inn, together this time. “I thought you might enjoy a little time on your own before the day begins.”

“You thought correctly. Although—”

“Not too much time alone, or at least alone without coffee and breakfast.”

She laughs. “Correct again.”

He flashes her another smile. “I stopped by the inn again before coming to find you. I asked the barkeep if he would be so kind as to prepare something for us. It should be ready…” He slows their pace as they emerge from the trees again in front of the inn, the sun a little higher in the sky then when she’d first left it. “...right about now.” With a sweeping bow, he opens the door for her. “After you, mi amor.”

She can’t help but laugh again. “Zev, I love you.”

#sadia tabris #zevran arainai #zevran x warden #zevran x tabris #my writing #zevrn #please don’t hate me i couldn’t add a read more on mobile #long post

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