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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Hera stood, waiting for her turn at last. The Queen of the Greek Pantheon traced the lines of neon green, its light reflecting against her true form in a soothing way. She’s no stranger to patience, to waiting. But there were little of those that had the gall to make her wait, and even smaller of that number that she would tolerate such behavior. Regardless, this was the one being she could not afford to offend and so, she waits. Her many forms, her divine self, perceived the room and compared it to her own halls of residence.

Olympus was much more intricate, carved of noble marble and inlaid with countless of priceless metals and gems and divinity. Twelve seats of power atop an engineering wonder, halls adorned with the brightest of the original flames, an hearth that was roaring at Hesta’s skillful hands.

In comparison, this throne room had been changed much since she was last here. Gone were the spikes of terror and screams of the damned. Now… it looked like the most bare throne room she’d ever bore witness to.

And yet, as she waited for the Boy King, Hera could feel the subtle thrum of impossible power. The new king did not flare his will and might like the previous tyrant, and for that, Hera approved. She has had quite enough of living with and under tyrants who cared only for themselves… and their bed achievements whilst failing spectacularly in their marital roles. Zeus was not a good life partner and Hera regretted ever saying yes to him many times in her immortal life. And yet… she loved him still.

The doors opened, and a small figure floated in, flanked by the previous King’s Knight. Perhaps that is what makes this Boy King so dangerous, Hera thought as she dipped into a bow, because he can turn the loyalest to his side.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted, in ghost speak.

“Heya, Hera!” The Boy King greeted her back, before waving the Knight away. Hera marveled, a bit, at the sheer confidence he had to dismiss his knight in her presence. Even the last king kept the knights around to ensure his power was always in display, always unchallengeable. The Boy King could destroy her with a snap of a finger and he knows it. He knows that she knows it.

“What did you need?” The Boy King asked, grin still on place as he floated to her instead of seating himself on his throne. Hera masked the bit of confusion she felt in pursuit of her goal.

“I have come here to ask of you a favor,” she began. “I am aware that… you are fond of this, the earth in which I reside in?”

Hera carefully picked her word. Everybody knows that the new King Phantom had laid claim to not only the Infinite Realms as is normal of his station, but an entire Earth as his haunt. He had the power to do so, she could finally see, now that she was standing before him. It would not do for Hera to get her strings cut because she claimed what is his.

“Sure. Why?” The Boy King tilted his head, narrowing that predator green upon her true form.

“Do you know of the Justice League, my lord?”

“Phantom’s fine,” he waved a hand. “And yeah, sure do! Why?”

Hera tilted her many forms in acknowledgement of the command. She bowed.

“My daughter, of a sort, is Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. She is… in grave danger. We can not exert our influence over a land that does not have our history. I can not interfere and aid her.”

“Oh, you want me to help her?” His tone was exasperated, and Hera spoke even more carefully in fear of offending him.

“Yes, if it pleases you. And it would be most gracious of you should Your Majesty have time to watch over her. I fear the danger will not leave her so quickly.”

There was a brief period of silence before King Phantom sighed. “And if it does not please me to do so?”

Hera looked up and locked gazes with evaluating green. “Then I am afraid I will be breaking a fair bit of cosmic law, King Phantom.”

He laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll check up on Wonder Woman.”

Hera blinked her many eyes, peacock feathers spreading in shock at how easily he allowed her favors. She did not even have to beg.

King Phantom turned to leave before pausing. “Hera, if you need help, just ask. Preferably without beating around the bushes next time. Also, Pandora misses you. You might want to hang around for tea later.”

Hera regarded him with the might of her divinity, which was but hardly a spec of his own kindness. The last one had not had her respect. Fear, yes. But never respect But this one…

“Yes, my King.”

“It’s just Phantom.” He shot back as he left, the Knight returning to his side once more.

Hera transformed into a more mortal form. She had not seen Pandora in a long time, the young woman had made quite an impression on her. Perhaps her old friend could be convinced in helping her punch Zeus and ruin her beloved husband’s day. Hera hummed, the green that used to flicker acidly against her divine form now only soothed. A reflection of its owner.

King Phantom is worthy of her regard.

——

Holy shit, a goddess asked him to check on the Justice League! She was super weird about it and talked in a really old way of speaking, but Danny hadn’t had anything to do for the past few days while entering the zone for his annual check up.

Danny waved away Fright Knight and dived into the portal that would take him directly to the Justice League and Diana!

He floated down from the portal, blinking at group of disheveled and injured superheroes surrounded by a group of demons. Belial?

“King Phantom.” Belial rumbled. Danny waved, not noticing the standstill his presence forced.

“Shite.” The British man cursed, drawing on his magic once more.

“King Phantom?” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, said quizzically.

“Who?” Batman, Batman! That’s actually Batman, rumbled.

“High King of the Infinite Realms. We’re buggered if he decides to help Belial.”

“Wait, like the god of gods, that King Phantom?” Captain Marvel asked. Ancients, why are all of them electrical based? Danny hates electricity.

Danny floated closer to them, grinning in a friendly way before frowning as they tensed up.

“King Phantom. May I ask why you have graced us with your presence, my King?”

“Hey, Wonder Woman! Your mom asked me to babysit you!” He grinned, sharp and mischievous.

“What…?” The Flash asked, zipping to their side. “Her mom? Queen Hippolyta?”

“No, Hera,” Danny said, and watched Wonder Woman straighten at his words.

“The Goddess Hera.”

“Yep!” Danny rocked back on his suddenly formed legs instead of the whisp of a tail he usually kept in the Zone. He was also still floating. Danny sent a wave of ice and froze the rest of the demons in one fell swoop.

“The rest of you can take care of clean up, yes? Diana has to get some snacks, dinner, and then go to bed.” He pushed gently at Diana’s shoulders, nudging her towards the plane. She went willingly, respectful but amused.

——

Bruce, intellectually knowing that’s a king but only seeing a superhero teenager: *fills out mental adoption paperwork*

——

Hera, a goddess, terrified of misspeaking and dying as a result: he’s so strong even though he’s young omg powerful and could end my immortal existence

Danny, an unserious king: golly gee why is she speaking like a Shakespeare novel

——

Hera, thinking Danny’s gonna be dignified: pls watch over my daughter

Danny, who has a clone he sees as a daughter and therefore has no issues babysitting a grown woman: lol snacks, dinner, bedtime

Diana:… usually I’m on the other spectrum of this but it’s from a higher up so… okay?

——

Danny, terrifying gods and ancients: they’re my friends! The power of friendship!

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oddheadd · 8 days

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Perfect Husband

You didn't have that much experience with guys, and the little things you did experience weren't good at all. Everything felt so... Empty. The "Wyd" texts and shallow conversations at the bar didn't satisfy you. You knew what you wanted, and you decided to go for it.

So when you met him it felt so real and unreal at the same time.. He felt real as in he understood you, he engaged in interesting conversations and knew just what was the best for you.

...And he felt unreal as in he wasn't... Human? Like a man from 19th century novels, he was gentle, polite, relatable but mysterious enough to keep you wanting him. The problem before was everybody acting same, now you were weirded out with how unique he was? You started thinking you were the problem.

Therefore, after a few months of dating, when he set up a beautiful dinner table for you two, with candles, flowers, perfectly cooked delicacies and asked you to marry him, you said yes.

You cut the steak and...

"Oh... This seems raw..?"

"It's medium rare, dear. But I won't feel bad if you don't want to eat it." - he smiled.

You felt lucky. So, you cut a piece of it, and put the red, moist and almost slimy piece of meat in your mouth. His smile widened as he watched you do so. You chewed and chewed, trying not to think too much about the texture or the taste, instead washing it down with red wine and forcing a smile.

The night ended with him gently holding and kissing you, while not so gently fucking into you. It felt almost like a reward for accepting his proposal, and the amount of times he made you cum only supported that theory.

The wedding happened shortly after, him making sure it was as big or as small as you wanted.

Everything after that felt like a dream... In a literal sense. You found yourself derealizating on more occasions than you can remember. Feeling dizzy, out of the place and unreal was then a daily accurance for you. And you didn't quite feel comfortable with talking about it with your husband.

But it didn't matter... Not as long as at the end of the day you laid in his arms.

However, even that comfort was broken when only weeks after your marriage, he started staying at his job later and later... As soon as he got home he'd take a shower, too.

Suspecting that your husband was cheating, you decided to follow him one day.

The day went on fine, he stayed at his job til 8, but then he left. You quietly followed, wanting to catch him in the act. He... Went into the woods..? Was he actually fucking someone in the woods? Then you saw another person... But they seemed to not be aware of your husband being there. In fact, he was watching them... Stalking them like a predator would to a prey. The person was obviously wasted, having come in the woods to relieve themself.

Your dear husband got up from his hiding spot, and approached the person... And so you watched in horror as his limbs started twisting unnaturally, making popping and cracking sounds as, his skin changing it's color into a dark red, almost a bloody color. He turned into something incomprehensible... A monster.

His now inhumane looking jaw unclenched, opening so wide he could swallow a man whole, and he took a generous bite out of the person, their bloodcurdling screams not loud enough to bury the sound of your ears ringing.

Despite the scenery being hard to look at, you turned around to leave, but stumbled and fell down with a loud noise.

Your husband's head turned towards you slowly, and his smile fell.

The dream turned into a nightmare.

Man I just love creepy, cannibalistic, eldrich monsters/gods and not in an only ha they're sexy way (I blame the movie Ritual)

#yandere #yandere x reader #monster x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere smut #plot twist #idk man #i fucking hate it here #i need help

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kafkasmuses · 4 months

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ultraviolence

words : 2,261

tags : gun kink , fucked with a gun , predator / prey , reader has a prey kink , peacekeeper ! snow , light sadism , size difference , size kink , obsessive behavior , power play , creampies , orgasm delay / denial

a/n : idk what came over me whilst writing this im gonna be so honest…. semi inspired by Cherienymphe‘s “everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer” fic!!! its so good

p.s : this is also posted on my ao3!!! ( divider by pommecita )

snow barely had any empathy for people, let alone any districts. he was a man who fell into poverty himself, but he got out of it, he was a capitol and he’s friends with those that come from the highest statuses. normally people felt pity for those in the districts, they scavenged for food, or proper clothing. not snow, he thought it was a game to watch them snatch up fresh bread and run like their lives depend on it. because it does, they survive, they live another day and satisfy their hungers, if they get caught, they’ll be dead in seconds— especially if coriolanus catches them.

he liked the power he had, the fact that he could do almost anything he desired and get away with it because the districts had been committing a crime anyway, he just stopped them from doing it any more. he liked that they would cower underneath him, beg for their lives, he liked that he had the power to give them a simple warning, to let them off the hook, but he never did.

not until now.

he found himself chasing yet another bunny, heavy boots padding behind your thin, poorly made shoes.

something about the adrenaline rushing through your veins had a heat developing in between your legs, like it was a primal reaction, an animalistic urge. he nearly noticed in the way your steps staggered, but that could be lack of spacial awareness, which he noted that you had. you were so busy running in straight lines you didn’t even bother to juke him or to hide.

easy prey, aren’t you?

he thought that at first, until your steps suddenly changed, turning to the right.

and you had disappeared between the greens and tall trees, his wild eyes raced around the all too silent forest. he tuts, a low taunt, “where are you, bunny?”

his voice came out sing - songy, having your breathing shake from the tree you hid behind, your thighs pressed together.

how was a hunt so intimate, so sexual?

“why are you hiding from me, bunny?” his voice is softer, as if he’s pouting.

you hear his boots snap twigs with ease, crush leaves into fragile pieces, dip through mud. he was getting closer, like a wolf stalking it’s prey, like he knew where you hid. you tried to hold your breath, to keep yourself hidden, but it was no use. he rounded the corner, and you ran into a sprint again, nearly dropping the bread you had taken.

if you hadn’t dropped it then, you were sure to now.

his arms took you into a threatening hold, at first pushing you into a tree, then slamming you against the floor when you wriggled at his grasp. his panting breath, your fearful whines, the begging that sat on your tongue silently, it was as if sex had been happening even with your clothes on. your tears well with tears at being slammed on the hard ground, and he feels the fabric of his pants tighten at the sight.

“please,” here comes the begging, music to his ears, “it’s my first time stealing, i’ve never done this before—“

“is that so?” his head cocks to the side, holding down your wriggling hands, “i’m sure i’ve seen you before, doll.”

“you must be mistaken,” your puffy lips part, breath heaving as you try to pull away from him.

it doesn’t work, he just simply holds you down, he easily could with one hand if he wanted to, “are you calling me a liar?”

it was embarrassing, truly, being so turned on by the way his voice deepened with firmness, by the way he held you down with such ease, “of course not, i would never—“

“you just did, though,” his tone is biting, typically he doesn’t let conversations last this long, but something about you was different. his eyes catch on to the way your thighs are rubbing together, not in a way to try to free yourself from him, but where you crave friction. “my, my, what do we have here?”

his hand taps against your thigh, pulling up the hem of your dress, his eyes land on yours, waiting for confirmation.

you immediately nod, it’s so quick, impatient, he adores it.

his long fingers lace around both of your wrists whilst the other pries your thighs apart, noticing the way fluids soil your panties.

“how cute,” he observes out loud, allowing his hunger to show in the way he nearly rips your panties apart whilst harshly tugging the, down, watching how your legs immediately fall apart into a spread, panties hanging off your ankle for dear life. you were so desperate, you were willing to do this in the woods, present yourself to a peacekeeper just because you had gotten horny merely off a chase.

his hand smoothes against your right inner thigh, feeling goosebumps form in prickles, and the way you shiver underneath each touch. his hand is large against your cunt, a single finger moving through it to feel the wetness, your hips immediately buck, desperate for more.

his chuckle is soon silenced by his hand raising to his mouth, just so he can taste your slick.

removing it with a pop, a curt smile tugs at his lips, sweet, like honey.

his hand smoothes down your inner thigh again, and you realize he’s teasing you, “officer—“

his thumb is threateningly close to your cunt, “hm?”

“touch me,” you breathe out, “please.”

how funny is it that the last time you said please to him you were begging for your life?

“like this?” his eyebrow quirks, pad of his thumb moving to swipe against your clit, your back arches ever so slightly.

the whine that emits from you is far too loud for his liking, so he hushes you with gentle shhs, thumb rubbing slow circles on the bundle of nerves.

“you don’t want people to hear us, hm?” he hums, “to find out you’re letting a peacekeeper touch you in such ways, truly scandalous.”

he can imagine it being front page of the district newspaper, girl caught fucking peacekeeper in woods!

your fingers twitch in his grasp, finding his movements far too slow, and he finds your movements and whines far too annoying.

he moves to plunge a finger into your cunt, making your whines hush to whimpers, unintelligible words.

“real impatient, aren’t you?” his finger moves slow at first, watching the way your hips move against it in response, “maybe i should just put you in your place.”

he removes his finger, watching the way you desperately clench around nothing. his hand moves to grab his machine gun, which he had ditched as soon as he threw you to the floor, he finally releases your wrists, you have a chance to run if you wanted to, but you didn’t— because you didn’t want to run, because the fear that filled you when he aimed his gun at you had even more of your fluids escaping the oyster between your legs.

he moves to cock it, taking it off the safety.

“fully loaded,” he reminds you, but also seems to be reminding himself.

he seems to believe you don’t believe him in the way you look up at him through glossy eyes, and he moves to aim his gun at a nearby tree, one to your right, directly behind you. and he shot, birds cawed as they flew away from the loud shots, he noticed how you flinched, immediately moving to the safety of his grasp, and he only smiled, how adorable that you find safety in the man who had enough power to kill you in seconds.

he hushes your fears, not reassuring anything about your safety as he moves the gun tip your legs back apart, one of his hands leaving it as he wraps it around your wrists once more, holding you back down in a missionary position. the hand on his gun was less steady now, finger tight against the trigger, it had you biting your lip. he traces along your inner thigh with the tip of the gun, “you’re gonna be a good girl, right?”

he watches you immediately nod, so eager, “yes, yes, officer.”

his gun passes a trail down to your cunt, pressing against your clit, he could shoot right now, the finger on the trigger was so tight, so unsupported. he could slip once and shoot directly into you, something about that thrilled you more, made your hips buck against the gun, practically riding the weapon. he admires your desperation, the way your face twists with pleasure as you move against the cool material that built the gun.

he eventually pulls the tip of the gun down, until it’s at your entrance.

he watches your eyes widen as the metal dips inside of you, spreading you open with ease.

your hands flail in his tight hold, “it hurts— officer, wait—“

“hm?” he pauses for a mere second, “sweet bunny, you can take it.”

the pain soon subdues to pleasure as he begins moving the gun again, pumping it in and out of you and coating the black of the weapon with your milky slick. whimpers of pain soon become moans of pleasure, the tears that had built a gloss over your eyes dipping down your cheeks as your eyes close, hips bucking against the weapon.

“easy, bunny, easy,” his voice is strained, like seeing you cry awakens something within him, when your hips stop moving against his gun he continues to pump it, faster this time, “good girl, gonna cum all over my gun?”

you nod, more tears escaping as the thrill of your possible death and the pleasure from the weapon that may cause it becomes all too much. a deep groan vibrates from his chest at the sight of you crying, lips parting to continue, “that’s it, good, good.”

it’s as if you crying is enough to have him reaching his climax already, as if seeing you cry felt like jerking off.

the gun widens the more it goes into you, stretching you until you’ll be nothing but a gaping mess from his gun when he’s done.

so filthy, to be easily stretched out by something that has killed many, how terribly cruel of you, to be cumming on it.

and the man who had done it is merely watching, admiring you like this was an art gallery, and you were the center piece. he notices the way you near your orgasm, as your hips can’t help but grind down on the gun, moans escaping past your nearly bitten to bleeding lips. and you start calling out to him, “officer, officer, please— can i cum— please.”

a mere plead, and if snow was a good man, he would say yes, but he wasn’t one.

“no, bunny, you ran from me,” his finger slides against the trigger, staring at you with a new tint glossing over his eyes, “do you think you deserve to cum?”

“yes, i need to, i want—“ your breath quickens, mindlessly grinding down onto the gun.

“no,” he pulls the gun out, depraving you of every wish. he notices the way you whimper, thighs pressing together and rubbing in desire to form friction. there was none, and soon he was tossing his gun to the side, tugging his pants and boxers down ever so slightly to free his cock, then prying your legs apart once more.

he carefully moves himself between your legs, his hand around your wrists finally freeing them, admiring the red ring he left from how tight his grip was. the same hand moved to fall against your throat, fingertips dipping in to your delicate skin as he guides his dick to your entrance, carefully pushing into you. he feels you tense underneath him at the feeling of him filling you once more, the length and girth enough to reach your intestines, you were sure of it.

once he bottoms out, he notices the way a bulge appears at your pelvis, popping up against the skin then falling to a settle with each thrust. his other hand moves to your mouth, his fingers spreading your pillow lips apart, your salty taste pressing against your own tongue.

“taste yourself, bunny, so sweet, hm?” he grunts with each thrust, practically manhandling you with each snap of his hips, fingers dipping down your throat. he watches your eyes roll back, mumbling pleas for the satisfaction of your orgasm to finally come, your bodily fluids sticking to his pelvis and his dick, your walls pulsed around him, drooling onto his cock.

he nears his climax almost immediately, nose scrunching slightly, “cum, cum for me, sweet bunny.”

“officer—“ your back arches off the earthy ground as you finally reach your climax, moans vibrating against his flesh and he continues to thrust, riding out your orgasm, overstimulating you until he’s practically fucking you dumb. eventually, he bottoms out, pumping you nearly full of his cum. he moves his hand from your mouth, sticky from your saliva, and takes your panties off your ankle, pulling out and plugging your hole with your own panties. just so you don’t lose any of his cum.

“there, now you can walk around with my cum inside of you, how sweet.” he takes his hands off of you, moving to tuck his softening dick away and standing.

he offers your limp body a wink, swiping up his gun, and following up with a, “don’t let me catch you again, doll.”

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x y/n #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth

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dlasta · 2 years

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I love how Nathan Fillion voices his defense of Joss Whedon *now*. Like, he is both a coward and an asshole. A shithead twofer.

EDIT: Actually wait, I think the timing is because of the endless wave of misogyny right now. He thinks people hate women enough to uncancel Whedon and then they’ll make Firefly and be great again! Still a coward and an asshole though.

#nathan fillion #this bitch #joss whedon #it is *such* a mystery why he would not harass everybody the same as the vulnerable women and poc #it's a mystery #also: fillion is over fifty and he is feeling how his leading man thing is coming to an end #not to mention he has to have a rep by now too #curiously many actresses leave big roles in his shows just to get away without any guarantee of a new job after #how badly do you have to suck for that?#abuse #hollywood fuckery #reminds me of that polanski defense depp mumbled #'this child predator did not do anything to me! and he has kids at home! he is safe! this is a conspiracy!'

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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'We buy ugly houses' is code for 'we steal vulnerable peoples' homes'

Tonight (May 11) at 7PM, I’m in CALGARY for Wordfest, with my novel Red Team Blues; I’ll be hosted by Peter Hemminger at the Memorial Park Library, 2nd Floor.

Home ownership is the American dream: not only do you get a place to live, free from the high-handed dictates of a landlord, but you also get an asset that appreciates, building intergenerational wealth while you sleep — literally.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/11/ugly-houses-ugly-truth/#homevestor

Of course, you can’t have it both ways. If your house is an asset you use to cover falling wages, rising health care costs, spiraling college tuition and paper-thin support for eldercare, then it can’t be a place you live. It’s gonna be an asset you sell — or at the very least, borrow so heavily against that you are in constant risk of losing it.

This is the contradiction at the heart of the American dream: when America turned its back on organized labor as an engine for creating prosperity and embraced property speculation, it set itself on the road to serfdom — a world where the roof over your head is also your piggy bank, destined to be smashed open to cover the rising costs that an organized labor movement would have fought:

https://gen.medium.com/the-rents-too-damned-high-520f958d5ec5

Today, we’re hit the end of the road for the post-war (unevenly, racially segregated) shared prosperity that made it seem, briefly, that everyone could get rich by owning a house, living in it, then selling it to everybody else. Now that the game is ending, the winners are cashing in their chips:

https://doctorow.medium.com/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom-bfad6f3b35a9

The big con of home ownership is proceeding smartly on schedulee. First, you let the mark win a little, so they go all in on the scam. Then you take it all back. Obama’s tolerance of bank sleze after the Great Financial Crisis kicked off the modern era of corporations and grifters stealing Americans’ out from under them, forging deeds in robosigning mills:

https://www.marketwatch.com/story/us-breaks-down-93-bln-robo-signing-settlement-2013-02-28

The thefts never stopped. Today on Propublica, by Anjeanette Damon, Byard Duncan and Mollie Simon bring a horrifying, brilliantly reported account of the rampant, bottomless scams of Homevestors, AKA We Buy Ugly Houses, AKA “the #1 homebuyer in the USA”:

https://www.propublica.org/article/ugly-truth-behind-we-buy-ugly-houses

Homevestors — an army of the hedge fund Bayview Asset Management — claims a public mission: to bail out homeowners sitting on unsellable houses with all-cash deals. The company’s franchisees — 1,150 of them in 48 states — then sprinkle pixie dust and secret sauce on these “ugly houses” and sell them at a profit.

But Propublica’s investigation — which relied on whistleblowers, company veterans, court records and interviews with victims — tells a very different story. The Homevestor they discovered is a predator that steals houses out from under elderly people, disabled people, people struggling with mental illness and other vulnerable people. It’s a company whose agents have a powerful, well-polished playbook that stops family members from halting the transfers the company’s high-pressure salespeople set in motion.

Propublica reveals homeowners with advanced dementia who signed their shaky signatures to transfers that same their homes sold out from under them for a fraction of their market value. They show how Homevestor targets neighborhoods struck by hurricanes, or whose owners are recently divorced, or sick. One whistleblower tells of how the company uses the surveillance advertising industry to locate elderly people who’ve broken a hip: “a 60-day countdown to death — and, possibly, a deal.” The company’s mobile ads are geofenced to target people near hospitals and rehab hospitals, in hopes of finding desperate sellers who need to liquidate homes so that Medicaid will cover their medical expenses.

The sales pitches are relentless. One of Homevestor’s targets was a Texas woman whose father had recently been murdered. As she grieved, they blanketed her in pitches to sell her father’s house until “checking her mail became a traumatic experience.”

Real-estate brokers are bound by strict regulations, but not house flippers like Homevestors. Likewise, salespeople who pitch other high-ticket items, from securities to plane tickets — are required to offer buyers a cooling-off period during which they can reconsider their purchases. By contrast, Homevestors’ franchisees are well-versed in “muddying the title” to houses after the contract is signed, filing paperwork that makes it all but impossible for sellers to withdraw from the sale.

This produces a litany of ghastly horror-stories: homeowners who end up living in their trucks after they were pressured into a lowball sales; sellers who end up dying in hospital beds haunted by the trick that cost them their homes. One woman who struggled with hoarding was tricked into selling her house by false claims that the city would evict her because of her hoarding. A widow was tricked into signing away the deed to her late husband’s house by the lie that she could do so despite not being on the deed. One seller was tricked into signing a document he believed to be a home equity loan application, only to discover he had sold his house at a huge discount on its market value. An Arizona woman was tricked into selling her dead mother’s house through the lie that the house would have to be torn down and the lot redeveloped; the Homevestor franchisee then flipped the house for 5,500% of the sale-price.

The company vigorously denies these claims. They say that most people who do business with Homevestors are happy with the outcome; in support of this claim, they cite internal surveys of their own customers that produce a 96% approval rating.

When confronted with the specifics, the company blamed rogue franchisees. But Propublica obtained training materials and other internal documents that show that the problem is widespread and endemic to Homevestors’ business. Propublica discovered that at least eight franchisees who engaged in conduct the company said it “didn’t tolerate” had been awarded prizes by the company for their business acumen.

Franchisees are on the hook for massive recurring fees and face constant pressure from corporate auditors to close sales. To make those sales, franchisees turn to Homevana’s training materials, which are rife with predatory tactics. One document counsels franchisees that “pain is always a form of motivation.” What kind of pain? Lost jobs, looming foreclosure or a child in need of surgery.

A former franchisee explained how this is put into practice in the field: he encountered a seller who needed to sell quickly so he could join his dying mother who had just entered a hospice 1,400 miles away. The seller didn’t want to sell the house; they wanted to “get to Colorado to see their dying mother.”

These same training materials warn franchisees that they must not deal with sellers who are “subject to a guardianship or has a mental capacity that is diminished to the point that the person does not understand the value of the property,” but Propublica’s investigation discovered “a pattern of disregard” for this rule. For example, there was the 2020 incident in which a 78-year-old Atlanta man sold his house to a Homevestors franchisee for half its sale price. The seller was later shown to be “unable to write a sentence or name the year, season, date or month.”

The company tried to pin the blame for all this on bad eggs among its franchisees. But Propublica found that some of the company’s most egregious offenders were celebrated and tolerated before and after they were convicted of felonies related to their conduct on behalf of the company. For example, Hi-Land Properties is a five-time winner of Homevestors’ National Franchise of the Year prize. The owner was praised by the CEO as “loyal, hardworking franchisee who has well represented our national brand, best practices and values.”

This same franchisee had “filed two dozen breach of contract lawsuits since 2016 and clouded titles on more than 300 properties by recording notices of a sales contract.” Hi-Land “sued an elderly man so incapacitated by illness he couldn’t leave his house.”

Another franchisee, Patriot Holdings, uses the courts aggressively to stop families of vulnerable people from canceling deals their relatives signed. Patriot Holdings’ co-owner, Cory Evans, eventually pleaded guilty to to two felonies, attempted grand theft of real property. He had to drop his lawsuits against buyers, and make restitution.

According to Homevestors’ internal policies, Patriot’s franchise should have been canceled. But Homevestors allowed Patriot to stay in business after Cory Evans took his name off the business, leaving his brothers and other partners to run it. Nominally, Cory Evans was out of the picture, but well after that date, internal Homevestors included Evans in an award it gave to Patriot, commemorating its sales (Homevestors claims this was an error).

Propublica’s reporters sought comment from Homevestors and its franchisees about this story. The company hired “a former FBI spokesperson who specializes in ‘crisis and special situations’ and ‘reputation management’ and funnelled future questions through him.”

Internally, company leadership scrambled to control the news. The company convened a webinar in April with all 1,150 franchisees to lay out its strategy. Company CEO David Hicks explained the company’s plan to “bury” the Propublica article with “‘strategic ad buys on social and web pages’ and ‘SEO content to minimize visibility.’”

https://www.propublica.org/article/homevestors-aims-to-bury-propublica-reporting

Franchisees were warned not to click links to the story because they “might improve its internet search ranking.”

Even as the company sought to “bury” the story and stonewalled Propublica, they cleaned house, instituting new procedures and taking action against franchisees identified in Propublica’s article. “Clouding titles” is now prohibited. Suing sellers for breach of contract is “discouraged.” Deals with seniors “should always involve family, attorneys or other guardians.”

During the webinar, franchisees “pushed back on the changes, claiming they could hurt business.”

If you’ve had experience with hard-sell house-flippers, Propublica wants to know: “If you’ve had experience with a company or buyer promising fast cash for homes, our reporting team wants to hear about it.”

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: A Depression-era photo of a dour widow standing in front of a dilapidated cabin. Next to her is Ug, the caveman mascot for Homevestors, smiling and pointing at her. Behind her is a 'We buy ugly houses' sign.

Image: Homevestors https://www.homevestors.com/

Fair use: https://www.eff.org/issues/intellectual-property

#pluralistic #the rents too damned high #house flipping #llc brain #scams #elder abuse #ripoffs #weaponized shelter #predators #homevestors #we buy ugly houses #ugly houses #real estate #propublica

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358jours · 1 year

Text

Jing Yuan x GN!Reader⎢Bird in my hands

Word Count⎢1840

Genre/Tags⎢SFW, fluff, Reader has wings, wing grooming, softness and non-sexual intimacy, written and posted before game launch⎢Crossposted on AO3

Jing Yuan, now labeled ‘Dozing General’ behind doors, used to reign upon the battlefield in his younger days. His awareness, his foresight, his strategy, his instinct, his strength, all made him terrifying to fight. With the aid of the lighting element, few were the enemies he wasn’t able to take down. Perhaps the no man’s land was waiting to be claimed by him, to be renamed “Jing Yuan’s land”.

He wasn’t perfect of course, he had his share of lost battles. But he had led his men to victory far many more times than he ever had defeat.

Peace has claimed Xianzhou since then. Everything has changed, and no longer does he need to kill for victory. The battles moved from warfronts to conference rooms. Through diplomatic negotiations, treaties, alliances, trades, the living conditions of the citizens improved. His did too.

He has adapted, and every day still uses the many skills he learned on the battlefront. He is meticulous in his routine, planning everything so that no problem arises. Perhaps another person would’ve complained about the mental toll. But he is Jing Yuan, to deal with the consequences rather than preventing them is not his style. Better be safe than sorry as many say, and surely, all of this is why he follows the path of erudition.

He savors peace in his own way. Taking a nap, laying in the sun, going on a stroll, enjoying the way he can just be bored– those are all the fruits of his hard work. His drowsy demeanor makes him appear lazy in the eyes of others, but he is content knowing none have to deal with his “actually acting like a general” persona. It is much less enjoyable for everybody.

He was often compared to a lion back on the battlefield, and it still fits him now, in different ways.

You were attributed to his flagship, the Xianzhou Luofu, not as a soldier but as a scout for reconnaissance and investigation. After all, there is little use in making you a regular fighter when that pair of wings on your back gives you many other opportunities. Bird people aren’t the hybrid norm in Xianzhou as it is the known territory of Foxians.

Perhaps this is why you caught his attention– his subconscious feline instincts reacting to your rare avian attributes. Natural prey and predator, or something along those lines. He had listened to his urges once– to tease you for one of your miscalculations despite being barely acquainted general and subordinate. The face and noises you made had been far too entertaining. Playfully bothering you and seeing your honest reactions to his banter became one of his favorite pastimes.

Which is why when he finds you squirming around, he doesn't announce his presence. You are trying to reach something on your back, stretching yourself into unspeakable positions to achieve your goal, but with no luck. The curses leaving your lips constantly make the general raise an eyebrow. He has never heard you swear this much in a single instance.

As much as your floundering entertains him, it is getting a little painful. “May I help?”

“Ah!” To say you jump in surprise would be an understatement. Your wings flap instinctively, and bam, into the ceiling. Your landing is quite off too. You grasp at the top of your head with your hands, ‘ow ow ow ouch’. Yanqing, passing by right at that moment, laughs his heart out. The loud sound rings out throughout the halls, even after he is gone. Your embarrassment deepens.

Finally you turn around. “Is there anything amiss, General?”

“It seems you are struggling with something. I was wondering if you needed my aid. I’d rather you don’t end up with a concussion.” Jing Yuan laughs.

“I– I’m pretty sure a concussion is harder to get than simply this, sir.” You look at the floor, abashed. He only chuckles, his trademark lazy smile on his face. One moment pass, another, and finally you cave when your eyes meet his. “As for help, well… Something in my wings is bothering me and I don’t know where I put my brush. Just combing through with my hands is usually fine but my arms are errr too short for this I fear. If you have the spare time I would appreciate the help. I’m a bit embarrassed to ask you that as you are my superior though.”

All in one breath. Jing Yuan smiles a bit more. “Of course, to be allowed to touch a bird-person’s wings, isn’t that the highest honor possible?”

Your hands scratch the back of your head sheepishly before you turn around to lead him somewhere else. He follows, nonchalant. Though you’re trying your best not to open them in enclosed space, he sees your wings flutter every now and then. He wonders how long it has been bothering you, where you’re taking him to. The only sounds covering the silence between you two are the clanking sounds of his armor and your footsteps.

He gets his answer when you two walk into a somewhat large room. Judging by the furniture, it’s half a lounge. But by the hammock suspended in the room and personal items scattered all over the place, it’s half a private bedroom. It’s not located in the living quarters either. He sees you remove your shoes and put them in a shoe rack by the door. The tension in your body seems gone in an instant. He inquires then, “Is this your room?”

“Technically it’s no one’s, but I’ve furnished it and have been living in it the longest. Please remove your shoes and come here once you’re done.” You walk to a chest in the corner, and take out a bunch of pillows that you throw on the fluffy rug.

He does as you say and puts his boots by the rack. It’s odd, having to remove his shoes in a bedroom, it’s a habit he lost with time after he was assigned this ship. It’s something he does when he gets back to the mainland, something he does when he visits friends. Even in his own room, he has grown out of it.

The wooden floor creaks under his weight, until his feet land on the soft and fluffy rug. He arranges the pillows around before he sits down cross legged. He’s honestly surprised by how nice it feels.

“Yanqing and I found this room together, it was pretty much empty back then. I was sleeping in the shared quarters, which was quite a problem since every time my wings would move in my sleep, it’d wake someone up. I asked him if I could have it as my own. He already has his own quarters, so I could have it as long as he could visit anytime. He likes to nap in the hammock and take care of his sword here whenever it rains.”

You come to sit before him, your back facing him.

Jing Yuan blinks slowly. His mind is computing what you just told him. He hadn’t considered that aspect of you having those wings, he had viewed them –and you by extension– as an advantageous asset, and forgot to take other situations into consideration. This is proof that he still has shortcomings, even in his meticulous planning. “I apologize, I would have prepared something had I known sleeping arrangements were going to be an issue.”

“Ah no, no, it’s me! We didn’t tell anyone about it and besides, it worked out in my favor at the end of it.” Nervousness suddenly takes over you, afraid you accidentally offended your superior.

“Do not worry, you have not offended me. Besides, this is your personal space, we are equals here. Please don’t treat me as your superior when we are alone, yes?” He only laughs. The second information is something he has to verify himself– “I’m glad you are so close to Yanqing.”

“Ah I wouldn’t call it ‘so close’, I’m not sure if we’re even true friends. He’s a good lieutenant when he needs to be, but the rest of the time he’s… I’m not sure how to say it, I don’t think I’m anyone special to him. He’s so extraverted and friendly, it’s hard for anyone to dislike him, or to not tell him whenever they need help with something. He probably knows all the latest gossip too.” you laugh too.

“That is true. I’m lucky to have him as my lieutenant.” With your back facing him, you don’t get to see his relieved expression, or the way he smiles at you so fondly. “Are you ready?”

“Ah! Yes, of course!” Your wings stretch wide, and Jing Yuan is impressed with the size of them. No wonder sleeping has been a problem for you. “You can pretty much go through the feathers like how you would with your hair. Though they’re pretty sensitive, they’re also sturdier than what most people believe. Do not hesitate if you have to use strength.”

The general hums in response. His hand slowly touches the base of your wings, curious. He has pet small birds in the past, those who didn’t fear him due to his laidback aura. But your feathers are different, for obvious reasons. They are all lined up almost perfectly, their colors much more vibrant up close. They’re incredibly soft to the touch, the smoothness surprising him somehow.

While he’s very tempted to, he has to do more than simply pet your wings. He’s smart however, and figures he can go at a slower pace so he can enjoy this feeling a bit more. It’s a guilty pleasure he won’t mention.

It’s his first time doing this of course, but somehow it feels like he has much more experience. He starts combing through the feathers with much care, paying attention to each bump and irregularity. He massages the wing bone before his hands go back through your plumage. You told him he could use more strength, but he’s skilled enough not to. He removes dead feathers so very softly that you don’t feel it. He notices your form relaxing gradually. Your back slumps bit by bit, your wings slowly getting closer to touching the ground. Pride blooms in his chest.

He’s not sure how much time has passed, but once he’s done with both wings you’re sitting asleep. You stir, and when he realizes you’re about to fall, he catches you in his arms. It doesn’t seem to bother you all that much as you try to make yourself comfortable against his armoured chest. He thinks about his options carefully, what were his planned duties for the day. But… he is the Dozing General for a reason.

He’s careful when he moves to lay on his back, avoiding big sounds made by his armor. You, already in dreamland, don’t seem to mind it and only protest when he moves your head to put a pillow under it.

With the both of you comfortable, Jing Yuan finally closes his eyes.

#jing yuan x reader #star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jingyuan x reader #x reader #x winged reader #hsr #nekonohanashi

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coockie8 · 2 years

Text

I’m pissed because we did not spend decades upon decades before the term proship was even a thing building fandom up into what it is today just for a bunch of entitled, snot nosed little shits to come around and say the space belongs to them now and we’re no longer welcome.

“Proshippers” created fandom years before “proship” and “antiship” were even concepts. Antis don’t get to come in and change the narrative now that fandom is “mainstream”. This is where the weirdos (affectionate) gather and it’s always been that way.

I miss the simple days when, for the most part, people just minded their own damn business. I miss when the worst thing someone could say to me over shipping royed or something was “they’re not even gay, you freak!”, instead of immediately accusing me of literal pedophilia over a cartoon. I miss when fandom was chill and not a morality crusade.

I miss when people could tell the difference between a series of lines on a screen and a real person.

::Edit::

I am not saying old fandom was a paradise full of rainbows and shunshine where everybody always got along.

I am aware that old fandom had a lot of issues, those issues just aren't what this post is about, so I didn't address them. Yes, old fandom was horribly homophobic and misogynistic. I'm queer, I'm aware.

You think I didn't get Flamed? You think I've never gotten death threats in old fandom? Doxx threats? A plathoria of mysogynistic and homophobic slurs thrown at me left and right? I fucking know old fandom had issues too. But old fandom issues are not what this post is talking about!

This post is simply lamenting the days before I was being endlessly called a literal predator over pixels, and lines on paper.

#proship #proshipping #proshippers please interact #long post #anti bs #fandom discourse #just anti things #I'm *tired*#antis dni #venting i guess

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zoropookie · 4 days

Text

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-four — not friends. (💋)

[[ ALL WRITTEN CHAPTER ]] tw: lots of swearing, slight violence

Hu Tao didn’t think it was going to be this thorough working with Heizou.

For the past thirty minutes since four o’ clock in the morning, Heizou’s been doing nothing except making sure everybody in the group they came with was asleep. Checking all of the rooms and making sure they were accounted for while Hu Tao stood at the crook of the doorway in front of where Scaramouche was sleeping.

She truly wanted to find it funny, being the prankster herself. But she wasn’t laughing. “If you’re going to be patient with this, we may as well wait until he wakes up.”

“You can’t interrupt a crime scene like this. They’d just apprehend you.” Heizou whispered back, as quiet as the stillness in the night, continuing to trace his own steps back to the other rooms.

Hu Tao’s patience wore thin as she clenched her teeth, trying to contain her frustration by grabbing his arm and clawing her manicured nails into the meat of his forearm. “This floor is about to be a crime scene if you don’t fucking lock in, buster. You’re about to ruin it for both of us!”

"Ouch- alright, alright. Let go." Heizou winced, taking her silent warning.

With a begrudging nod, Hu Tao released her iron grip and approached the door with cautious steps, Heizou holding his own phone with his camera open at the ready.

She paused, turning to him and pointed a finger. "Remember, we're just looking. Don't accidentally send anything to anyone."

"Don't need to tell me twice, I feel grimy just doing this."

"And not kidnapping the kid?"

"You want me to be a child predator so bad-" Heizou was able to finish his sentence until he was cut off by a rustling in the distance.

"What are you guys doing?" A small voice asked from afar.

The both of them froze, slowly turning their bodies towards the source of the noise. Even when the hallway was as big as it was, the sound didn't seem to echo through the stillness of the night.

But the rustling stopped once a silhouette appeared from under a blanket and began to rush towards the other two. Hu Tao's heart damn near fell out of her ass, flinching at how fast Nahida came into vision.

"Holy shit," Hu Tao held her hands up in faux defense.

Heizou squinted at the girl before crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you doing awake, Nahida. Growing children need their sleep every night."

"Spare me the patronizing, Heizou. What are you guys doing in front of his room?"

"Wow. I didn't even know what 'patronizing' meant at that age." Hu Tao puffed her cheeks. "Maybe you're right, Heizou. My bad."

Heizou narrowed his eyes, reveling in his victory for a bit until he cleared his throat. His demeanor shifted into a nonchalance. "We were about to talk a walk. Just happened to be in front of someone's room."

Nahida raised an eyebrow, "At four in the morning? Sneaking directly towards his room?"

"He has the better patio view." Hu Tao chimed in. "You know how it is, sometimes you just need a little bit of fresh air."

Nahida was obviously not buying it. "Right." She said with a drawl as she looked at Hu Tao and Heizou dubiously. "And I'm the Empress of Snezhnaya. Don't act like I don't know that you two are plotting to take Scaramouche down."

"Foiled again," Hu Tao gritted her teeth. "Okay, we wanted to see if he had anything on his phone. Who wouldn't be curious? That guys a briefcase of suspicion, and I'm going to open it."

Heizou cringed, shooting Hu Tao a glare before sighing. "Yeah, Nahida. This would be a huge step in my investigation."

"You're unbelievable." Nahida responded with a disappointed frown. "If you really were curious about whether Scaramouche was doing something, it'd be less of an issue to just...oh, you know, ask him yourself? Not invading his privacy?"

"Now you know me directly asking a question would cramp my style." Heizou huffed. "We're not going to do anything except gather evidence. If there is none, we're out right away. Okay?"

There was something that was aching in Nahida, almost as if no matter what were to happen if she let them do this, things were going to go entirely wrong. With or without this happening, there was no keeping it at bay.

"Just be careful." Nahida looked in between them, sighing as her expression softened by a lot. "Whatever you find, handle it responsibly. I'm sure he's been through a lot of trouble with his own people already. We don't need more of it."

Hu Tao saluted. "No unnecessary risks. Gotcha."

Within an hour, they found themselves sitting in the corner of Scaramouche's room, looking through his phone. The soft glow of his phone casting a shadow on their faces. Every now and then, Heizou would take photos from his camera of what he'd think would be evidence for the future.

The both of them fell silent, hardly making an effort to talk to each other as they both became too interested in the contents. For some reason, seeing his life so formulated and established made it harder for Hu Tao to go through it.

"I think I'm done." She whispered before sighing, leaning back against the wall. "He's not even that bad of a guy. Ei is just a publicity demon."

"You're giving up?" Heizou looked at her.

"Yeah. I thought I would be happier to look through his things, but it seems like..." While Hu Tao was taking brief glances, her eyebrows raised at a certain detail that she missed while she was sitting there. "Wait a minute...what's that?"

"Huh?"

"He has a second account." Hu Tao pointed at the screen once she swiped the menu to Twitter. "See? It's the little circle with the 3d girl on it."

"You can make second accounts linked to your main?" Heizou scrunched up his nose. "I guess that would've been nice to know when I posted my abs on social media and the office job I tried applying to found it."

Hu Tao stared at him for a second, wanting to respond, but shook her head and continue scanning through his feed. "Sneaky little fucker." She laughed in disbelief. "I mean, I guess not- it's all just random posts too. He's not following anyone on this ac-"

Once Hu Tao tapped on his icon, her eyes widened. There was a mountain sized chill that came coursing through her body. One that she thought she'd never experience ever since (Y/N) cursed the entire Inazuma group out on their livestream.

Justsofamous338. An account from the series of accounts from Justsofamous.

"Oh my go-" She stopped herself from being too loud. "Oh my...fucking god. Heizou..." She said, her breath failing her.

"Jackpot, eh?" Heizou murmured, staring interested at the screen.

Her hands visibly trembled as she pressed the messages, her eyes glued to the screen. There were no messages from this account in particular, but the fact that he was even signed in was indicator enough. "He posted on this account two times. Both cryptic, but he definitely knows that you're looking for who he is."

Heizou was genuinely in disbelief that they both were met with a side of the sleeping Scaramouche that they didn't know about until now. How? How was somebody like that so capable of what he said to (Y/N)?

Either way, Hu Tao felt herself come to a boiling point. And with that pent up anger that she's yet to know what to deal with, she hardly slept for the rest of the night.

You didn’t know where you were for a good minute.

Despite how long you were out for, there was a nagging feeling inside of you that you should wake up soon after all the stress left. Your eyes fluttered awake, leaving your body to be wracked by the copious amounts of physical exercise you did the night before. If there was one thing you hated doing in the morning, it was waking up in general…and hurting.

But even with your pain and disorient, you still managed to regain your consciousness. The memories of the previous night, and how embarrassing they were, flooding back. You put your head in your hands, groaning in a miserably agony. “Why did I say that?!” You yelled.

“Stupid, so stupid. What the fuck?!”

It hung heavy in your mind, eyes dulling. You weren’t about to let it ruin your day, but the more you sat alone in the room that used to have Tohma and Ayaka’s sleeping bodies, the more you wonder if you’re in the backrooms or not.

After a few moments of looking at the groovy texture and the zig zags of the clock, you felt your resolve return. You put on your socks and slip ons, heading towards the sliding door and opening it…

Only to be met with Scaramouche on the other side. You almost screamed, but not because of him. It was because of how the barely cooked meat of the Shoyu ramen in his hands was touching the rest of the ingredients.

“Ah yes, my reminder of the unfortunate appears again.” You murmured grimly.

“What?” Scaramouche couldn’t help but let out a small scoff.

“Nothing. Morning, Kuni. Didn’t take you to be the type to wake up on the dot.” You tilted your head. “Something’s gone awry.”

“I wanted to see how you were doing in there. It’s almost one in the afternoon.” Scara said, holding the ramen outward towards you. “Breakfast. It’s really hot, so be careful.”

“I already had breakfast, Kuni.” You said, eyeing the ramen warily.

“You just woke up.”

“Yeah?” You contested with the same amount of attitude he gave you. “It’s called eating in your sleep. I’m good off your red ass meat. You didn’t even cook it.”

“You don’t eat it when it’s red, dickhead. You put it in the broth to cook it. That’s why it’s a conversational dish.”

“Spoken as if you want to have…conversation with me?” You asked as you wiggled your eyebrows. “Man, just say you have it hot for me already. This is embarrassing.”

“You wish, chucklefuck.” Scara said disgustedly as his violet eyes moved from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. He couldn’t get past how ridiculous your pajama set was. “Lightning McQueen?”

“Limited edition. Like my crocs too?” You put your hands in your pockets, sticking one leg out so he could look at the full set easier. “You can afford a house in this day and age, but I can afford something you’ll never be able to get a day in your life without pulling out a mortgage. Eat that.”

“I’m sure I can live without it.”

“Nobody can ever live without the kachow in their life.” You snickered, motioning him over to the table. “Thanks for the ramen.”

You couldn't shake off the weird feeling around you as you sat down with him at the dining table. Tohma and Ayaka were already out of bed somewhere, and none of the rest were around to your knowledge.

You found yourself lingering in the ruminating thought, dipping the meat in the broth for a minute. "Hm," You mulled, "Long start to the day, huh? Were you the first awake?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." He shrugged, "I wanted to make sure everyone was accounted for."

"Ooh, the hospitality." You smiled. "Looks like you're already ahead of everyone else. Always on top of things."

"Are you impressed?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Impressed? Slightly. Planning to take advantage of it? Quite." You tried to keep your tone casual in case it was just you that felt this way. "Hey, uh...sorry about last night."

As he looked up, meeting your gaze, you almost wanted to look away. You could tell that he was trying to think about it. "What did you do last night?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to broach the topic. "...If you forgot about it, it probably wasn't even that important."

Even though the both of them sat in a comfortable silence, it was suddenly broken by Hu Tao busting through the doors of where she was "sleeping". Whatever was solidified as peace throughout their silence was destroyed, as there was now obvious tension.

Her eyes darted between the two of you, and you could practically see the metaphorical gears turning in her mind as she approached. She was visibly stiff, lacking any lax in her jaw. "Nice to grace us with your presence Scaramouche. Or something like that." You exchanged a hesitant glance with her, sitting back in your chair once you put a piece of meat in your mouth. "Did you just wake up? Why are you all clammy?" "No." Hu Tao hissed. "You thought you were fucking notorious, didn't you? Thought that you could just decide to coexist with us, huh?"

"What are you on about?" Scaramouche's brows furrowed.

"You tell me, Justsofamous." Hu Tao's voice was almost gravelly and aggravated, tossing her phone with all of the evidence popped up in her photos app. A storm was live and raging inside of her veins, turbulent and fierce. "Yeah, thought you could hoe us all out with that one? Playing with us like some fools, taking advantage of our obliviousness. Fuck you."

Your mouth twitched in disbelief looking at the said photos, looking slowly back at Scaramouche.

His face didn't say anything particularly outstanding, but there was something wrong about how he looked rather than his neutrality. Your heart began to beat with an extra pulse than you were accustomed to, trying to keep the adrenaline at bay.

"What's she talking about?" You asked him, holding the chopsticks in your hand with a tighter grip. "Scaramouche?"

"Scaramouche is Justsofamous, and him and Aether are like this." Hu Tao locked her fingers together. "They never stopped talking to each other. In fact, he's literally in the same group chat as all of our ops. Crazy, right?" Hu Tao shouted, causing the rest of the group to come out from where they were to see the scene.

You faltered in your look, feeling your entire being be worn down by the sudden outcome of your morning. "Scaramouche, say something." Tears formed in your eyes, entire face intense. "Say something..." You whispered.

But even though he was being put on the spot, there was no other way he could put it other than a small sigh in the end. "Surprise." He sat back, staring at you dead in the eye with uncertainty.

You became molten lava on the inside. Your hands were trembling with the same mixture of rage that burned within you like hot coals. And then all of a sudden, it was like all of the things that he called you, the blatant way he talked to you before he even knew you, his lack of hesitance when he poured coffee on you. The way he insulted you proudly, despite being in the wrong. He wasn't betting on being your friend, nor even an acquaintance. You knew, and you still gave him the benefit of the doubt.

He was taunting you.

In the grip of your emotions, your vision went red. Like a tempest unleashed against your body, you raged. The tears streaming down your cheeks were bitter, you were being crushed by a boulder of betrayal. "You...YOU!" You could barely make out your words from how choked up you were.

You rose from your chair in a flash, your chest ragged and heaving as you knocked the Shoyu ramen on the ground, the crash of glass and the food slightly burning you. "You fucking asshole!" You screamed louder and louder, and began coming closer and closer towards Scaramouche, pushing him.

"You got a fucking kick out of it, didn't you?! You LOVED acting like the savior, just so I could get comfortable. Fuck. You. You cum gargling piece of fucking shit!" You started pushing on his shoulder to intimidate him. "Tell me how much you loved getting under my fucking skin! Huh?! TELL ME." You screamed in his face, but you couldn't even bare to listen to him.

Your cries strangled your throat as Tohma held you back. You noticed Scaramouche's face pale, trying so hard not to break his composure but now refusing to make eye contact with you. His expression betrayed him, and you knew that he regretted it, but unsure of whether he meant it.

Did it matter anyway? You destroyed everything in your path, from paintings to throwing furniture around. Nothing was left untouched until Tohma held you back. His grip on your arms tightened, his voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos. "Hey, calm down. It's not worth it."

You were almost beyond reason until then, you dropped to your knees despite all the force keeping you from it, and you sobbed violently. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You said with a full voice, screaming again, this time in a lot more pain your heart could exuberate. "You're rotten, Scaramouche. You're fucking rotten."

Having everything shattered in you wasn't fair, you knew it, and so did he. It's why he stared down at you with a flicker of vulnerability, a crack in the facade of his own indifference.

And no matter how much he wanted to respond, to defend himself, he couldn't. Because in the end, maybe all that this situation was destined for was damnation.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @melpomenelurks @liuaneee (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

#zoropookie #hhab #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x yn #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you

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concreteangel92 · 1 month

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The Predator And His Prey

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: mask kink, slight predator/primal play, dom/sub relationship, oral (male receiving) PiV, spitting, being restrained. Pretty sure that’s it.

A/N: I definitely had a lot of fun writing this! Noah in a mask will be the death of me 🥵 and I just really wanted to get my own story out there haha hope you all enjoy!

You didn’t know you had a mask kink until you met Noah.

You’d never looked at someone in a mask before and thought ‘take me!’ you’d never watched a horror film and fawned over the masked killer. Until Noah came along.

You’d been dating for a while now, there wasn’t much you hadn’t done with each other at this point, you loved each other, trusted one another and knew one another’s bodies like the back of your hand and had tried almost every kink and position you could imagine.

But you’d felt too shy to admit to Noah that seeing him with his mask on had stirred something within you.

It was a weird mixture of emotions when you first realised, you’d gone to watch your boyfriend’s band from the side of the stage. You weren’t prepared to feel yourself clenching on nothing at the sight of him in the mask. The way he towered over you, his face hidden apart from his eyes and lips, how menacing he looked.

It also slightly frightened you at first, why did it cause this reaction? Is it normal to feel that? But the more you saw him wearing it, the less you cared.

Noah hadn’t appeared to noticed anything that first time and bent down to give you a quick kiss.

“Wish me luck?”

“Good luck”

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, your cheeks were no doubt red from embarrassment.

You watched him go out to sing artificial suicide, seeing him in full confidence owning the stage, stalking around like a predator, singing and growling to perfection was enough to make anyone swoon but with the mask, it was a thousand times hotter.

You’d been to a few of his shows now, every time seeing the mask caused a flutter, Noah also seemed to appear out of nowhere with it on, when he kissed you before a show he held your neck just that little bit tighter, almost like he was doing it on purpose.

But he hadn’t said anything and surely Noah would have questioned your reactions by now if he’d seen right?

Tonight was no different, once again you were ready to watch from the wings, Noah had been off getting his mic fitted, he gave you no warning before you had a low whisper in your ear.

“So how long until you admit it?”

You turned around with a jump to see his mask covered face in the dim lighting, his outfit making his broad build look even bigger.

“Admit what?”

“That me wearing this mask is turning you on”

Your eyes went wide and you felt your cheeks go warm.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

Noah stalked closer to you, making you back up against the wall, his hand coming to rest on your neck with a gentle squeeze and his frame towering over you.

“Really? Then why do you eye fuck me every time you see me in it? Don’t be embarrassed angel, is it the danger aspect that you like?”

Your heart was hammering in your chest which Noah would have felt with his hand around your throat.

“I don’t know”

“But you like it?”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off of him.

“5 minutes everybody!” Was shouted from down the hall, your heart sank as you knew Noah had to go.

Noah pulled you in for a deep, messy kiss by your throat before pulling away and gripping your chin tightly.

“Open”

You obeyed to his command, he tilted your head back and he spat into your mouth.

“Swallow it”

You did, your thighs pressing together as your breathing had increased.

“That’s my good girl, we’ll finish this conversation later”

And with that, Noah went off to the side of the stage leaving you up against the wall processing what had just happened.

A couple of hours later you were back at your shared home, Noah hasn’t brought anything up yet, he looked tired from the performance but definitely still full of energy, the ride back was spent talking about the home town show and how good he thought it went, you couldn’t bring yourself to mention earlier, Noah was obviously waiting for the right moment of his choosing.

Once inside, he said he was going to grab a quick shower and then he’d see you afterwards.

You quickly got yourself comfortable in a baggy top and shorts and you’d wandered downstairs to grab a glass of water to take up, you hadn’t been paying attention to your surroundings otherwise you would have heard that Noah was finished in the bathroom.

“I believe we have an unfinished conversation”

You turned around and nearly dropped the glass in your hand at the sight before you.

Noah was stood leaning up again the doorway wearing his ski mask and a pair of black trousers, his top half bare to show off his inked chest and he looked so sinfully delicious.

Your breathing became harder as he stalked towards you slowly.

“So my little angel has the hots for me in my mask eh?”

“Yes”

Noah walked closer until he was stood in front of you, removing the glass from your hand, making you feel much smaller than you actually were. You subconsciously started to move around him, your adrenaline starting to kick in and arousal running through your body.

“You nervous?”

You shook your head, a small smile was forming on your lips as you slowly continued to move around and started to back up towards the door, Noah following every step you took, his intense gaze never leaving your face.

“You can run if you like princess, it won’t do you any good. I expect you to be stripped and waiting in our bedroom by the time I get up there, is that clear?”

“Yes sir”

You turned around and went up the stairs quickly, hearing Noah’s footsteps not far behind you. Once in your room, you threw off your clothes, Noah wandering in behind you shortly after.

His eyes looking you up and down like you were his prey, he stalked towards you and ran his hand over your cheek.

“Safe word. Any time you need it yeah?”

“Yes”

Noah sat himself down on the edge of the bed.

“On your knees for me and show me exactly how much you’re loving this”

You got onto your knees in between his legs and he lifted his hips up as you pulled his trousers off, mouth watering at how hard he was already.

You wrapped your hand around and gave him a couple firm strokes before you took him into your mouth and started to hollow out your cheeks and moved slowly up and down, pulling an instant low groan from above you.

His hand came into your hair as if to guide you while swirled your tongue around him and sucked on his tip, pre cum already forming and leaving a salty taste in your mouth. You used your right hand to stroke him in time to your movements, Noah becoming increasingly more vocal.

“Fuck…that’s it baby”

Your other hand that had been resting on his thigh came down to gently cup and massage his balls while you started to move your head faster, sucking on his harder, and feeling how hot and hard he was in your mouth, you knew he wouldn’t last too much longer.

You felt a tug in your hair and pulled yourself off him while still stroking, even with the mask on, you could tell his skin was flushed.

“Move back a bit”

You shimmied back on the floor and Noah stood up, you knew he wanted to take some control back and you squeezed your thighs together.

“You’re doing so good for me baby, but you ready for me to take over?”

You nodded eagerly, Noah pumped himself a couple times while you opened your mouth for him and stuck your tongue out.

“Double tap my thigh if you need me to stop”

Noah kept his grip in your hair as he guided himself into your mouth, you relaxed yourself and Noah started to rock his hips back and forth, slowly at first to let you adjust but this didn’t last too long.

Your hands grip his thighs to keep yourself grounded, you looked up and felt yourself moaning around his length at his dominating appearance. The mask hiding most of his face but you could see his eyes were closed and mouth slightly open.

His thrusts were becoming more sloppy, you gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat and made your eyes water and you could feel your own saliva running down your chin but you didn’t care, you were in complete heaven watching him ruin you.

You moaned around him again and stroked his thighs, Noah looked down at you and pulled on your hair tighter while still rocking his hips.

“Shit…I’m going to cum, make me fucking cum”

You hollowed out your cheeks around him and sucked extra hard as you felt him finish down your throat, you swallowed down every last drop he gave you and didn’t stop until he pulled away.

Noah sat back down on the edge of the bed and pulled you up onto his lap and wiped away the tears that had run down your face. He gave you a lazy kiss, which was slightly awkward with the mask on but you still leaned into him.

He ran one hand down your stomach and you felt him run his fingers over your folds and he slipped one in.

“You’re fucking soaked”

Noah started to move his finger inside you which caused you to fall forward onto his shoulder, but he wouldn’t allow that, his other hand gripped around your throat firmly and made you look at him, adding another finger he moved them faster, your moaning coming out slightly choked due to the grip around your neck but god did it feel good.

“Look at you, such a whore for me, can you hear how wet you are? All this because of the mask, all you had to do was ask me baby and I’d have worn it sooner for you”

Noah removed his fingers and licked them clean and then positioned you back into the bed, he then went into the draw of the bedside table and pulled out some restraints.

“Normally I’d love to see you ass up, but tonight I think tided up on your back is best, let you see me ruin you with this on”

You held your hands out to Noah, desperate for him to fuck you now, you were so turned on it was unreal, you needed him to give you some relief.

He tided your hands up and restrained you to the bed, you now were completely at his mercy unable to move your arms.

“Spread your legs for me”

You opened yourself up to him, watching him pump his already hard dick again and his eyes stared into yours through the mask. This was probably one of the most vulnerable states he’d ever had you in, he looked so menacing and dangerous and you were so ready for what was about to happen.

Noah moved so he was in between your legs and lined himself up, he pushed in gently but didn’t meet any resistance and so he thrusted in all the way which caused both of you to moan out.

He wasted no time in pulling your legs up to his chest and he started an unrelenting pace, it was rough and hard and exactly what you had been waiting for.

“Noah…fuck…”

You were practically screaming, you could feel every inch of him, your arms were pulled tight as you held onto your own restraints, you stared at his strong frame pounding into you, the mask just adding to how good he looked.

You knew you wouldn’t last long, you could feel your orgasm approaching, your legs were shaking and you could feel your walls clenching around him.

Noah knowing your body, reached one hand down and rubbed hard, fast circles on your clit.

“Cum for me baby, let me feel you”

And you did, it wracked through your body and you cried out while your back arched and your eyes squeezed shut. And after a few hard thrusts you felt Noah empty himself within you and his body came down on top of yours.

You both lied there for a moment while the afterglow wore off and Noah pulled the mask off, his skin flushed red and sweaty. He reached up and undone your restraints and gave you a long, loving kiss.

“Wow”

You both laughed and cuddled up together.

“You can say that again”

“So I can safely assume that my mask can be used again?”

“Oh my god yes! That was incredible”

Noah lifted the mask up in front of you both.

“If only the fans knew what this mask has now seen the next time I’m on stage!”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #dom noah #noah sebastian fanfiction

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batneko · 7 months

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Something Goes Wrong and Bowser Jr.'s clown car ends up flying off halfway across the globe with Luigi in tow. They crash-land in a hostile environment which means they can't just wait by the wreckage for rescue, and to distract Junior from how much danger they're in Luigi pulls the two-way radio out of the car and asks if Junior can fix it.

Meanwhile back home everybody thinks that Junior kidnapped Luigi for some reason, which leads to Bowser and Mario fighting, which means nobody notices for most of a day that Junior really should have been back by now...

Surprisingly, Junior does fix the radio, and manages to contact his dad just as Bowser is starting to worry. Junior assures him they're fine, they just don't know where they are, and they're traveling in the direction Luigi thinks people most likely are. Bowser yells at Luigi that he'd better keep Junior safe, Luigi says he will, and that's that.

Until a few hours later when Junior has dropped off to sleep and Luigi uses the radio again to let Bowser know that they are not okay, there's hazards and predators everywhere, Luigi has no idea where people might be, he's just been lying and distracting Junior all day to keep him calm.

Bowser is like, "Good. Continue that." and asks Luigi for more details about where they are so he can mount a rescue team.

But out of spite Bowser doesn't tell Mario that he's heard from his brother.

The next day is more travel and more danger and once again Luigi waits until they've found shelter and Junior is asleep before radioing Bowser to update their actual progress and not just whatever Junior reported at random. This time Bowser listens a little better, and gives advice on the monsters he recognizes. Eventually Luigi actually feels a little bit reassured.

It keeps going like that for days. Luigi is running on adrenaline and fumes, they're foraging for supplies when they're not running for their lives, and since Junior is oblivious to most of the danger he keeps insulting Luigi for being a coward and a wimp. Bowser is sending out search parties to everywhere that matches their descriptions, but they're spending so much time fighting and fleeing that even if a ship flew right overhead they might not notice it.

But every night Bowser and Luigi talk, and though Bowser is still prickly about it he can't help but appreciate everything Luigi is doing for his son. Likewise, Luigi looks forward to those talks as the only time of day he can let out what he's really feeling.

Finally they stumble upon a town. Luigi goes to the first person he sees, asks where they are, reports that back to Bowser, and passes out.

Next time he opens his eyes he's laying in a doctor's office with Bowser, of all people, yelling about how hard can it possibly be to treat a guy for heat stroke?! while Junior, sound asleep, clings to Luigi's hand.

The next next time he opens his eyes he's in Bowser's castle and Bowser is fighting with Mario in the hallway about whether or not Luigi should be moved again. Luigi drags himself out of bed to tell both of them to please keep it down and he's fine and what day is it?

Over the time Luigi is recovering (it's mostly exhaustion and stress but he's not complaining about the meals in bed) he talks with Bowser more and more. About what happened, but also in general, casual conversations. Chit-chat. And Junior likes to come visit him too, even if he's just drawing or playing with toys in the corner. He still doesn't seem to understand how close they both came to dying out there, but it's clear he feels comfortable with Luigi nearby.

And so does Bowser, Bowser realizes, when it's time for Luigi to go. Those evening conversations weren't exactly enjoyable, under the circumstances, but he got used to Luigi's voice. Even with Junior back, without Luigi the castle is going to feel... empty.

Just as Bowser is trying to think of how to ask if he can see Luigi again, Luigi asks for Bowser's number.

"I'm not sure I can fall asleep anymore without hearing your voice."

Choked up, all Bowser can say is, "Sure."

#bowuigi #luigi #bowser #super mario bros #luwser #bowigi #green shell #free idea

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