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ofswordsandpens · 3 months

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Finale Thoughts

The show stuck the ending far better than I thought it would and when compared to the preceding episodes it knocks it out of the park. That being said, I think because the bar was so low going in, that it makes this episode feel spectacular when really every episode should have done this well, at minimum.

Solo Lessons and Ares Battle

I'm so happy they included the one-on-one training sessions with Luke since its so essential to foreshadowing. I also liked the setting in the woods but why was it like autumn/fall in the flashback lol? However, I think that did unintentionally add a dreamlike quality to the scene which I did really like so whatever I'm here for it.

That being said I do wish these scenes were in episode 2/3 alongside the other chb stuff instead of being a flashback in the finale because it makes it just so on the nose that Luke's the traitor. However, the shot panning from Luke's extended sword to Percy's on the beach ate I can't lie.

Honestly it may have been interesting if they had established some of the solo lessons early on in episode 3 and then done periodic flashbacks to expand on them throughout the series. That way, its not so obvious that Luke's the traitor in the final hour and we also get cool transition shots and establishing that Percy is thinking about what he's learned from his lessons with Luke.

#Relieved that the Ares and Percy fight was not a single sword strike and then cut to black. Glad we had some action. Still think we should've pushed the limits much harder tho.

Oh but Percy's wave did go hard. They actually made the wave much bigger than what happened in the book and now I'm just sitting here wondering why we couldn't see some more of this instead of 10,000 cut to black scenes every time Percy uses his powers.

I wish we had gotten this Ares's reaction from the book when he lost: "The roar that followed made Hades’s earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide." Show Ares's reaction seemed so anticlimactic in comparison.

And no curse???? huh??

I know Ares was like "we're enemies 4 life now" but the curse and dialogue from the book goes so unbelievably hard: “You have made an enemy, godling. You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware.”

Why couldn't show Ares say that??

Olympus, Zeus, & Poseidon

[Insert aw, she's ugly John Mulaney Meme]

sorry Olympus could've should've been prettier.

Like Olympus in the book felt a lot more wondrous and lush and colorful. But in the show it seemed so dull. Idk if its cause the "war's happening" or whatever it was just bland. a wash of dull-looking cgi and then an instant cut to the Big Palace.

Lance Reddick's Zeus was amazing tho. He had that godly presence I've been waiting for.

And Toby Stephens's Poseidon? oh I loved it.

I especially loved their conversation in greek.

I still wish however they would have done effects on the gods' eyes. Like glowing with energy or something when they get emotional. I felt like I was waiting to see electricity burst from Zeus when he was yelling at Percy.

And so it turns out that the reason why they changed it to Percy missing the deadline in the show was to create a situation in which Poseidon surrenders a war for his son.

And listen, if this scene existed in a vacuum I'd be so here for it. I guess a part of me can't fathom the solstice being anything other than a hard deadline. I enjoy the scene without context, within context I have mixed feelings about it.

But the "do you dream?" convo between Percy and Poseidon. Oh my god no notes. I loved it.

Some more book dialogue that I wish made it: “You did well, Perseus. Do not misunderstand me. Whatever else you do, know that you are mine. You are a true son of the Sea God.”

Luke's Betrayal

Okay here's where we get some high highs and low lows.

Some things I sincerely liked:

The setting. Fireworks going off in the background. The lantern illuminating the side of Luke's face with the scar. So visually nice.

Luke actively trying to recruit Percy! I've always joked that if Luke was just a little smarter he would have tried to persuade Percy to join his side rather than immediately kill him. And I do like that the show went this direction.

While I do mourn the loss of the scorpion them battling via swords is a great subversion of the sword mentor/mentee dynamic they share. It makes the scene tense and fast pace.

And its all of the above that makes me wonder why we didn't have more of this throughout the show: talking while battling, visually appealing and dynamic settings, unique visuals, etc.

I love how triggered Luke was at Percy's mention of meeting Hermes. I still hate how much Hermes introduction bogged down the show but damn if it didn't lead to one singular funny moment.

Percy getting a hit in on Luke and then immediately apologizing

"I didn't think you'd give the shoes to Grover." Oh that was cold.

Walker and Charlie deserve their flowers and more they were fantastic and carried.

Now things I DIDN'T like:

I don't like how Percy pieced it together with the information he did have... which honestly isn't a lot in the show? If he was going to figure out that Luke was the traitor I would've have had Luke show more of his bitterness like he did in the book. Like the fact the show never even mentioned Luke's failed his quest loses the entire element of Percy succeeding an "impossible" quest and being celebrated while Luke only got a scar and a chip on his shoulder from his failed one.

Luke's scar shoulda been worse idc.

Percy should have been mortally wounded. That's where we run into an issue with there being no scorpion because yeah, a fatal sword injury probably would've been a bit much to depict. I also 10000% think that Luke is enough of a baby to get his daddy issues triggered and then try to off Percy for it even if his original intention was to recruit him.

Also the fact that you see Luke raise his sword for a damning blow and then the very next day you have Percy like "I don't think Luke was trying to kill me." and Chiron agreeing? asdlkfjsdlkf WRONG.

Also, sorry, I don't like that Annabeth was there.

But if you're gonna have Annabeth there, her reaction to Luke betraying her and trying to hurt Percy should've been way more severe than a solemn "I heard everything."

She shoulda been crying, questioning, yelling even if she had suspected him. It's one thing to suspect it, it's another to see the person you consider your family to actually prove it true.

(And this isn't on Leah! It's 100% on the directors cause what was the thought process here? Her brother figure betrays her and she's like :/)

And sure, in the book Annabeth isn't actually all that surprised by Luke's betrayal when Percy tells her about it... but we also never got to see her initial reaction to it. Percy was out for 2 days.

Just, if book Annabeth had been there, she would've been so emotional and that's okay!! let Leah show off her chops!

Sally

I mourn book Sally. I mourn her arc. I mourn the power of Sally unapologetically petrifying Gabe with Medusa's head.

One of the most iconic storylines from the book and it was sanitized in the show to the point that it lost all sense and meaning.

Honestly one of the biggest disappointments of the show for me.

Other

I love the fact that a flower is the searcher's license for satyrs its just so silly and sweet.

I love Annabeth sincerely hugging Percy but also using it for strategizing purposes it feels very on point for her.

Also her braids at the end!! so sweet!

I am very very bitter that Percy didn't see the fates. This + the changes made to Sally's characterization and arc... the show truly doesn't get it.

#pjo show crit #probably need to edit this its likely riddled with typos but

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lonewolfwriting89 · 11 months

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MORE - [SR]

"To bare flesh is to invite a knife"

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of a dead body. Hints of torture and violence. Blood. Depictions of war. Trauma. Explicit Language. NSFW. Smut. Soft smut.

A/N: A somewhat softer Simon, written with female!reader insert. Pre-established relationship between Simon x Reader. Thanks to @offendedfishnoises for all your help, thanks to @more-cardigan-than-woman too xoxo

————

I wanna see the rest of the world the same way that you do, I wanna be the home that you leave and you return to, I wanna stay here in your arms as long as I can do.

All anyone wants is just, More time, more life, more healing, More love, more us, more feeling, Oh, I just need, I'm just needing, More you, more nights for dreaming, These days go by so fast and I, Oh, I just need, I'm just needing more.

There's not enough time in one life, For you and I, there's not enough time.

————

It was 2am, Simon saw the clock tick over just a few seconds ago. Sleep didn’t come all that easily anymore, even when he was curled up against your soft, warm body. He tugged you into his chest on instinct, feeling his heart flutter when you subconsciously leaned further back, resting the base of your skull against his collarbone. You murmured in your sleep, your lips parted just slightly. Simon had to refrain himself from kissing them, giving into your passion.

The cold autumn air had crept in through the glass of your apartment windows, chilling the bedroom off. It was fresh. Simon liked the contrast of it against your heat.

You hummed again in your sleep, hand meeting his around your waist. He gave a secret smile, the brush of your fingertips setting his nerves on fire. Unable to resist any longer, Simon ghosted feather light kisses along your shoulder, working across your flesh and stopped just below your ear.

You were his. You’d told him so. Repeated the words back to him as he buried himself inside you to the hilt. Nails digging crescent shapes into his shoulder blades as the pleasure exploded behind your eyes.

It was these moments Simon cherished the most. The peace. Tranquillity floating like a lily on the water's surface. He ran his free hand along the length of your bare body, burning the feeling into his memory. He’d take this with him on his next deployment. Picture it when he was lonely and needed you the most.

You shivered and snuggled in impossibly closer. A puff of air left your lips, a beautiful sigh. Simon snorted to himself, everything you did was mesmerising. Even the most mundane of things like brushing your teeth on your tiptoes, his black T-shirt barely covering your ass. He smirked, cock twitching slightly at the thought.

His fingers splayed across your stomach, pressing your skin to his. He sighed and leant his head forward, sinking it into you. He felt you absorb him, and he allowed it. Becoming drunk on the feeling.

It was this. This is what he needed. The last mission was tough, bruises still lingering on his knuckles. Cut still healing on his upper lip. His emotions had crept up on him, drowning him in the field momentarily. For the first time in a long time, he was scared.

————

Flashback

————

Turning the corner, Simon whipped his gun clearing the room. Empty. It was dark, filthy sheets covering the tiny windows. The broken glass allowed the heat of the desert to seep in. Simon pressed his thumb into the side of his radio on his chest, his assault rifle loose in his fingers but still dangerous , “It’s a negative Captain, the rooms have been evacuated, I think there’s a body on the table under some tarp”.

The air was thick with sand and dust, clogging his nostrils. There was a distinct smell of decay in the room, tinged with bitter metallic blood. The crackle of his radio shattered the eerie silence, Price’s voice filtering through, “Understood Ghost, check the room for any intel”.

Dropping his gun down, Simon scouted the edges of the room first, his gloved hands rummaging through the wires and screws on the tables. It was the remnants of a bomb. He pocketed some of the paperwork hidden underneath, it looked like some kind of instruction manual, one of the mechies could look over it at the base camp.

Turning, he looked towards the metal table in the middle of the room, a dank piece of tarpaulin strewn untidily over what was clearly a body underneath. Poor fucker, thought Simon. He huffed and stepped closer. What a shitty way out, laying dead in a derelict warehouse.

He gripped the edge and tore it back, feeling the ground fall out beneath him when he saw what was under it. His stomach plummeted, heart racing rapidly in his chest. He felt it tighten, his head going foggy.

A mangled female body, drenched in blood laid there. Lifeless. Her skin was pale and blotchy, covered in bruises and welts. But what caught Simon was her hair. Your hair. Matted, stained with blood and vomit. It streaked across your swollen face, lips bust open.

You. His world. Lying dead, cut open. Simon gripped the edge of the table and tried to focus but struggled. Eyesight spotting in the corners. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not in his world. No.

“Any luck Ghost?”.

Simon’s head was pounding, a high pitched ringing sounding through his ears like a bomb had exploded. Price sounded like he was in the distance, faint and wavering. His vision throbbed and he gripped the edge of the table, oxygen catching in his lungs with sand. He felt heavy. Sick. When did it become so hard to breathe?

“Ghost?!”, Price shouted again, “Do you copy??”.

He needed to ground himself. The panic clawed its way up this throat and constricted painfully. Simon pressed his head to the wall and counted.

10, 9, 8…

He could hear the wind whipping through the building outside, carrying the arid temperature with it. It was hot. Too hot. Sweat dripped down his forehead, tracing down his spine under his tactical vest. He missed the British weather. Unpredictable.

7, 6, 5…

The roar of an engine, one of the trucks surging into life. The acrid scent of burning rubber and motor oil floated on the air. It was thick like syrup. Black. Simon would bet Price had sent in back up as he hadn’t responded. He needed to get himself together. Fuck. He couldn’t be caught like this. Brick by brick, he needed to place that wall back. He wasn’t Simon. No. Right now he was Ghost. Ghost.

4, 3, 2..

It can’t have been you. No. Never. He’d never let anything like that happen to you. You were thousands of miles away, wrapped up in sheets of soft linen, probably drinking too much coffee whilst reading a book. He tried to imagine the smell of the fancy coffee you loved, your perfume that always lingered on his skin for hours. This wasn’t you. It was a cruel trick of his imagination. You were safe. He’d left you safe, back home. You were ok.

1…

He heard the sound of footsteps racing up the stairs, the sound of Soap’s Scottish twang echoing off the crumbling brick walls. Simon ripped himself off the wall and raised his rifle just as Soap barged into the room. Johnny could see straight away the room was clear except for Ghost who looked oddly dishevelled, stood right in the middle.

“Everything alright L.T?”.

“Fine”, he grunted and strode across the room, he tipped his head to the side, “Deceased female, covered her back up, it wasn’t—”.

“Understood L.T”.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Ghost appreciated when Soap stepped in.

———

Stepping out into the black of the night, Simon flipped the mobile in his hands. He’d picked it up in a market on the outsides of the town, almost certain it’d never trace back to you.

Resting his back against the wall, he propped his combat boot against the brick before looking up at the sky. He could see every star. There was hardly any light pollution out here. You’d have loved the sight. You liked gazing at the night sky, especially if he was holding you.

He ran his tongue across his lips before dialling your number. The sound of the rings lulling him into a false sense of security. He still found it strange that the heat of the desert so quickly turned to ice when the sun sank. He shuddered.

——

Your ringtone bounced off the bedroom walls startling you from your sleep. Poking your head from under the blankets you saw the room was still dark, illuminated by the light of your phone ringing. You squinted your eyes, looking at the clock at the other side of the bed. 3am.

Who would be calling you at 3am? You yawned, stretching your back and arching up before grabbing your phone from the nightstand.

Unknown caller.

3am.

You slid the bar across on your phone to answer it, answering it your voice came out horse, “H-hello?”, you coughed, clearing your throat, “Hello?”.

Simon closed his eyes the moment he heard your voice trickle through the phone. He soaked it in, allowing it to wash over his senses. You sounded exhausted. Probably because it was 3am. Fuck. He shouldn’t have called so late. He took a deep, steady breath.

You yawned again, sitting up in bed. You wiped at your eyes, a strange feeling flooding your stomach, “Hello? Is someone there?”, you held your breath nervously, “I can hear breathing…”.

Swallowing thickly, Simon tried to contain his emotions. What could he say? What would you say? He’d never called you when he was away before. The weight of the day sat heavy on his shoulders, forcing him to slump back into the brickwork. He let out another sigh, it sounded weak.

“Si? Is..is that you? Are you ok?”, you bit your lip, waiting to hear him. God you hoped it was him. Wishing he was ok.

“Love…”, his rough voice cracked.

You let go of the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, relief washing over you like a flood, “Simon…”.

It was comforting to know it was him but terrifying at the same time. You knew Simon never called whilst he was away. He’d always said it was too dangerous. He didn’t want anyone finding out about you. Something had to be wrong, seriously wrong for him to be calling you. Anxiety sank into your bones, chilling them.

“Simon…”.

He loved hearing you say his name. You were perfect. He wished he could stay with you. A prayer. One that never seemed to be answered. More time. That’s what he wanted. More time with you. His centre.

“I—I’m sorry, it’s got to be late there love”, he shivered as the cold nip of desert air whipped under his balaclava, “I shouldn’t have called”.

“What happened”.

Simon cursed. You knew him too well. He shouldn’t have been that surprised really. You’d always been able to see into him. It’s why he loved you. Not that he’d told you that. The words always fizzled out before they left his tongue.

“It's nothing. I just—I needed to hear your voice”.

You tugged the comforter up your body and inhaled, it still smelled vaguely of Simon. You refused to change it, not wanting to let him go fully, you needed him with you.

“What do you need me to say?”, you could have said, ‘what do you want me to say’ but you didn’t, want is so different to need. And Simon needed you. He couldn’t voice it properly, always struggling to say what he truly wanted. But it didn't matter, you always knew anyway.

Simon let out a light, surprisingly delicate chuckle, “I could listen to you say anything”.

You flushed a little at the flirt and curled into his side of the bed, “Are you sure you’re ok?”.

“I am now”, he rolled his skull balaclava up just under his nose, placing a cigarette between his chapped lips. He lit it before taking a long slow drag. The nicotine hit perfectly.

“I thought you’d quit, hm?”, you hummed, a tease coating your words.

“Damn, I thought you wouldn’t hear me”, he snorted out a laugh, the sound somewhat hollow, “Old habits an’all that - I’ll start again tomorrow, promise love. M’sorry”.

You rested your head on his pillow, smiling to yourself, remembering not that long ago when he was laid there, threading his fingers through your hair, “S’ok Si…I understand”.

“You should go to sleep, love, it’s late there”, Simon took another drag, blowing the smoke into the blanket of the night. He didn’t want you to go at all. He’d stay awake till sunrise with you. But, duty calls.

‘I wish you were here’, you wanted to say, the words almost escaping your lips, but instead you murmured, “I’ll be dreaming of you”.

His lips curled around the cigarette end, “And I you”.

The line disconnected and Simon stared at the dark screen of the phone. He missed you instantly, desperate to call you back. There was so much more to say. Why didn’t he say it? It would have been perfect. You’d have wanted to hear it.

Instead he muttered his confession to the desert, ‘I love you’ faded into the air, before he dropped the phone to the floor, smashing it with the heel of his boot. He couldn’t have anyone finding out about you. Getting to you. The broken shards of the phone scattered, some becoming buried by the shifting sands. Turning, he headed back towards the barracks, preparing for another day.

————

End Flashback

————

Safe. That was how it felt when you woke in Simon’s embrace. Your limbs entangled with his. You felt his muscles tense as he stretched, his arm wrapping back around you tightly. The heat radiated off his skin, warming yours. It was a feeling you loved, your bare skin pressed to his. The soft sheets draped over your entwined bodies.

You looked up at him, his eyes closed somewhat peacefully, his fingers mindlessly twirling your hair around them. Leaning up, you frowned noticing the yellow bruise above his lip, the cut on his lip just about healed. Gently, you kissed the wound, feeling heat bloom in the pit of your stomach when Simon smiled.

“Simon…”, you started, fingers stroking over the dip in his chest, “Each time you come back with another scar, I’m just going to have to kiss it better”.

His eyebrows lifted, a smirk evident on his face, “Y’know that’s only going to encourage me right?”.

Laughing, you smiled and felt the blush spreading across your cheeks, “I probably should have thought that through that before I said it”.

“No no, you’ve said it now, love”, his large hand dragged down your back making you shiver, “I expect to come home to you nursing me better —every time”.

Fluttering your eyelashes on purpose, you looked up at him with doe eyes, “In one of those little nurse outfits?”.

You saw his eyes flicker dark momentarily and he growled, “Don’t be a tease”.

“Who said I was kidding?”.

Simon tried to roll you both over but you pressed your hand to his chest, stopping him.

“Something wrong, love?”.

You shook your head and stroked the cut with tenderness, “How did you get it?”.

It wasn’t unusual for Simon to come home with cuts and bruises. New scars and broken bones. But something told you this was different.

“Get what?”, Simon pretended to look confused, dipping his head down to kiss you. Ready to distract.

“Simon…”.

He sighed softly, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of it. He’d never been able to say no to you.

“Well, long story short, I got into a scuffle with one of the new lads…fucking cheeky cunt”, he muttered the last part under his breath.

“What—”, worry flickered over your face, eyes going wide. It wasn’t like Simon to get into fights with his colleagues, he was always so professional. Brothers in arms, he’d once said. Your mind was whirling until you heard his voice cut your thoughts short.

“It doesn’t matter now, it’s fine”.

“But—”.

“I promise love”, he kissed you so gently you would have sworn you imagined it, “Please—please don’t worry”, another kiss was planted on your forehead, making you sigh happily.

“I’ll be more careful”, he murmured the last part so softly, you didn’t catch it, “For you”.

——

The heavy patter of rain against your window pane was somewhat of a safety net for Simon, the miserable weather common here in his northern hometown of Manchester. The bedroom window was cracked open slightly, allowing the smell of the rain to float in softly. He sighed quietly, his fingers drifting down your bare side. For the first time in months, Simon felt at peace. Having you finally curled up in his arms made him just that little bit softer. Smoothing down his sharpened edges. He bent his head and brushed his lips to your scalp, a light hum leaving his throat.

“Si”.

He repeated the motion, tugging you further into him. He didn’t answer, there wasn’t any need. His actions spoke for him. Said the words he hadn’t yet said, though they weighed heavy on his tongue. Like molten lead.

Fuck. He’d do anything for you — anything. He’d burn the world if you asked him, no questions asked. Simon wondered briefly if you knew the levels he’d go to, just to see you smile. That’s why he did this, his work. He did it for you. To keep you safe. That’s all he wanted.

It hurt every time he left, his boots becoming heavier each time. His arms would wrap around you longer, hold you that little bit tighter. You never complained, not once. Seeing him off each deployment with a lingering kiss and a promise.

He felt your silken lips kiss a sensitive spot on his neck and he shuddered. The embers lighting deep in his stomach, a husky groan rumbled in his chest. You smiled against his skin, nuzzling gently.

Simon’s job was dangerous. You knew that. You’d seen enough evidence when he’d make it back home. Scars, broken bones, bruises and cuts. He’d never given you details, not wanting to burden you with that. Having you there was enough.

At the start, Simon had wondered if keeping you had given him a weakness. A tactical error. You’d carved into his heart and given him an emotion. Something he wasn’t even sure he was capable of anymore. He’d spent years within the army, specialist training to cut off that side of him, to become a ghost. Nothing. Isolated. But he was wrong. God he was so wrong. And he’d never been so happy to be wrong. You were his strength. A reason. Something to fight for. Something to live for. Something to come home for.

————

Flashback

————

Hidden in a burnt out building, Ghost paced next to Price, waiting to hear from Soap. He’d picked out a sniper point a few streets down to try and locate their target. He’d gone alone against Simon’s wishes. Demanding to go with him, Price had vetoed the idea, telling Ghost to stand down, Soap could handle it.

Price turned to Simon and gave him a harsh glare, the continuous steps grating on his nerves. He grunted in response before grabbing the radio, unable to wait any longer.

“Soap? You there yet? What can you see? Can you see him?”.

There was a brief crackle before Soap’s distinctive voice sounded through, “Negative LT…3 on the ground floor, 2 on the first floor but—”, the radio splintered before carrying the sound again, “—But I-I’ve lost eyes on the Jack of Hearts, sorry…he ain’t here”.

Simon huffed in annoyance before radioing through, “All right…copy Soap”, he twisted looking at Price, “I think we should wait Sir, it’s a risk…no point clearing the building and spooking the target”.

Price almost felt the cigar drop out of his mouth, unsure if it was Simon Riley that had uttered those words. He was normally itching to clear out a terrorist hot spot.

“Repeat that”.

“I said we should stick it out Sir, no point wasting ammo and effort if he’s not there. It’s just 5 bodies we gotta clear out. Unnecessary risk”.

Simon could feel Price’s eyes burning through his mask, scorching his skin. He was thankful for the mask, hiding everything he’d thought to bury away, the sweat beaded at his brow. Even he had to admit this wasn’t like him. But, you. You. He couldn’t risk it. Not anymore. He had to get back to you. You needed him. And he needed you.

Price nodded and ran a hand over his chin, “I—”.

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as one of the rookies in the corner piped up, scoffing with distaste, “Come on now Cap’n, are you serious?”, he snorted, “Why aren’t we going in? It’s 5 less scumbags on the planet. It’s not that risky…”, the rookie eyeballed Simon, seemingly unphased by his shorter height, “I didn’t realise The Ghost was such a pussy”, he laughed and patted Simon on the front of his tactical vest, “You lost your balls or something after you found that dead bitch the other day?”.

“What was that?”.

Rage. A blistering furnace burned bright inside him, his heart hammering against his chest violently. His vision turned red and before he could stop his body, Simon launched himself towards the arrogant rookie.

——

The pristine white sink turned a deep shade of red as Simon shoved his hands under the steady stream of water. The lukewarm liquid soaking his gloves. He cursed, as it making the cuts sting. He grimaced, looking up into the mirror, he could see a stain of blood leaking through the dark material of his balaclava. It was probably a mix of his with the fucking rookie’s. Scowling, he knew he’d have to explain to you why he had a bust lip when he got back.

His eyes darted to the corner of the room reflected in the mirror when he heard the door hinge squeak. Soap appeared slowly, a smug smirk hung on his lips. Simon already knew he’d have a headache before he left.

“What”, he spat, his northern accent carving the word harshly.

Soap had the audacity to laugh, folding his arms over his chest, his grin growing wider, “Did breaking his nose make you feel better?”.

Simon grunted, refusing to give an answer. It made him feel better for a few seconds, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone as his fist connected with it. But then you invaded his thoughts and he stopped. Guilt. You wouldn’t want him to do that.

“Y’know Riley”, Soap caught the wild glance from Simon and he coughed, correcting himself, “Sorry, L.T”, he smiled smugly, “Whoever the lass is…she must be something real special t’ya”.

The silence was thick. Palpable. Simon didn’t want to give anything away but it was obvious as his shoulders tensed.

Johnny flexed subconsciously, tapping his fingers against his forearm. He wondered briefly if he’d overstepped, concerned that Simon might try to strangle him. But the silence and rigid stance told him all he needed to know. He was right. Relaxing a little, he attempted to lighten the mood, “You’ll have to introduce me”.

“Fuck off MacTavish”.

Soap couldn’t see it but there was a hint of a smile curling Simon’s lips.

————

End flashback

————

Delicate. Like lace. Simon closed his eyes and basked in the feeling of your fingertips lazily grazing over the tattoo covering his left arm. You traced the skulls, letting your nails skim over the outlines. They were a part of him, as much as you were. His skin shivered when you stroked a sensitive spot near his shoulder. There was an ugly welt residing there. An old gunshot wound from Siberia.

“‘Bout 6 or 7 years ago”, his voice, thick and heavy like whisky, ran smooth down your spine, “Got pinned by a sniper—bastard—a lucky bastard mind you”.

He was so nonchalant about these things. Like it didn’t matter. Just another day to add amongst all the others. But to you, every scar and mark made your stomach knot. The thought of him hurting shattered you.

His thick fingers kneaded the base of your neck as you rested on his chest, ironing out the kinks hidden there. You let out an appreciative hum.

“Si…”.

“I know, just lemme yeah?”.

Simon knew you’d wanted to shower him with affection but he couldn’t resist putting his hands on you. How could he not? Without warning, he rolled you under him, resting his weight on his tattooed forearm besides your head. Your legs splayed open without thought, allowing him to slot between them.

You were so soft, so beautiful, so perfect. Splayed underneath him, like an angel of innocence. Wild hair framing your head like a halo against his pillow. But he, he was rough. His edges were sharp and nasty, cutting deep to the bone. He was nothing like you. He’d been tainted by the ugliness in the world, torn down and broken up. And you were like the first blossom of spring.

Your hand reached up to cup his face, pulling him from his thoughts. You must have sensed he was dwelling somewhere he shouldn’t.

“Simon”.

He bent down and captured your lips in a demanding kiss. It was harder than he intended but full of emotion. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. Granting it, you sighed happily into his mouth, your hands snaking around his neck, pulling him down so he was pressed against you.

Simon let his tongue run along yours, tasting you. A light hint of peppermint. He groaned into the kiss, letting his hand smooth down to the apex of your thighs.

You gasped when his calloused fingers found your clit, stroking over it with just enough pressure to have your thighs quiver around him. Fuck. He loved watching you fall apart. He needed you so badly. He wanted to drown in you.

Tearing himself from your lips, he planted hot, wet, opened mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone, humming words of affection into your skin as his fingers continued their lazy pace.

“Si…fuck..oh”, you whimpered and your hips bucked on their own accord.

“Need you—”

“Me too love, fuck—”.

He’d never known anything like it. He was desperate for you, throbbing against the flesh of your thigh.

Sliding into you with a practised ease, Simon swore under his breath, you mewled, body arching to his. Your soaked core stretching deliciously around him.

The feeling never faded, only intensifying every time. Your legs wrapped around his, tangling together as he drove into you over and over.

Linking his fingers with yours, he pushed your hand above your head, holding it firmly as he thrust deeper. Your breath caught, heart racing wildly in your chest, hammering next to his.

“You feel so good—”.

“Si…I-I—”.

“Let go love”, he whispered, leaning down to press a heated kiss to the dip of your throat, “I—fuck, I’m right there with you”, his words stumbled together, pleasure pulsing through his veins.

The high hit you hard, climax tearing through you like a white hot flash. It buzzed along your skin as you sobbed his name. Simon followed, feeling his body become lighter, his mind hazy with nothing but bliss.

Soaking in the afterglow, Simon pressed his forehead between the valley of your breasts, sighing contently. He didn’t want to press for too long, aware of his heavy bulk crushing your tiny frame.

Rolling to the side, Simon laid out on his back, dragging your body onto his chest, blunt fingernails scraping down your back, resting on the dip of your ass. His eyes were closed but he knew you were staring at him, he could feel the burn of your gaze.

“I’ve missed you”.

The confession felt better in the open. You wanted him to know you thought about him, always. Never questioning where your loyalty lay. It would always be him.

You saw Simon’s lip quirk up at the corner, the scar there only adding perfect detail to his handsome face.

“Oh yeah?”, the playful mock hung heavy on his northern accent.

You ignored the teasing tone, knowing it was a deflective measure. Simon struggled to accept he deserved love, affection - let alone someone actually missing him.

“Mhmm”, you hummed and leaned down, kissing his lips softly, “I always do”.

He swore his heart skipped a beat. He wondered if you noticed, pressed up against his bare chest. Keeping his eyes closed, he nodded into the pillow.

“I missed you too”.

Your lips curved up and Simon could feel your smile burn through his eyelids. He didn’t even have to look to know the words had lit you up.

——

He was going to miss this. Everything. The softness of your skin. How your body laid next to his during the night, instinctively curling into him, his large arm laying heavy around your waist. The vanilla scent of your shampoo which always lingered on his hoodie. He’d never complain, he carried it with him for as long as he could, drifting back to you whenever he could. Simon tilted his head, glancing down at your beautiful face. He looked at you reverently, words escaping before he could force them back down, “Make me stay, love”.

He desperately wished he didn’t have to go back, wanting to stay here with you, wrapped up in thick cosy blankets and silken pillows, watching the world pass by.

Leaning up to him, you ran your soft fingertips over his lips, “I wish I could”, you sighed gently, “But I know you’re needed, it’s your job..I can wait, I’m not going anywhere”.

Tilting his face into your palms, Simon swallowed thickly, wishing to sink into your heavenly touches, “Love—I—”.

“Stop”, you pressed your forehead to his, noses brushing together delicately, “I know, Si—please don’t apologise, you don’t need to”.

“I do…I should be here with you”.

“Please stop”, you kissed him tenderly, lips melded to his, “I meant what I said, it’s ok—I understand, I always have”.

He let out a deep sigh, “You’re too good for me”.

“Complete bullshit”.

Simon laughed, the sound deep and husky. It wasn’t often he heard you swear. He was becoming a bad influence, his northern ways imprinting upon you. Your eyes sparkled when you giggled with him, the sound caressing his ears. He stared at you, just absorbing. Wishing to take the mental image with him on his next deployment.

He bent forward, nudging his nose along yours, “I love—”.

Before he could finish the sentence, you’d pressed your lips to his hurriedly drinking up the confession you’d so desperately wanted to hear. You’d take those words and carry them with you, always.

————

#simon ghost riley x you #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader insert #simon riley x you #Simon Riley x reader insert #simon riley x fem!reader #Simon ghost Riley x fem!reader

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yukipri · 2 months

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Ngl this is sorta making me queasy with excitement/nervousness...

Especially coming right on the tail of:

So even though I will likely be a clown (again) this time tomorrow, here's what I wrote out in the twitter thread above:

Please @/starwars Obi-Wan Kenobi Season 2, this time with Ewan McGregor and Temuera Morrison as co-stars. There's closure now with Obi-Wan & Vader. Next, closure between the Jedi & the clones on Order 66, represented by the 2 we saw experience it first: Obi-Wan and Commander Cody

I know in the latest Obi-Wan comic, Obi-Wan basically goes "I miss Cody to this day, even though he tried to kill me. Ah well." And it just K*LLS me that that's it. Obi-Wan (and most the Jedi) have no clue that the clones were victims too.

Y'all are inserting Order 66 scenes in almost every show, so you can do it one more time, this time in an attempt to understand and gain closure. And this is a story that is genuinely best told through Obi-Wan and Cody. Palpatine sent the Order to Cody, first and most directly.

This is a story that doesn't need to mess with characters like Luke or Leia, who we know we'll see again. Cody is MIA as of TBB S2. Obi-Wan now also has some time after season 1, where we know he can't really be messing with Vader. This story can fit in well.

(heck, you can even insert more Clone Wars flashbacks, including young Ahsoka, you saw how much we all loved that in the Ahsoka show!) This show would let you share more about other clones and Jedi as well. Depending on how TBB S3 ends, we can have some connections there too.

PLUS! Temuera Morrison seems eager for a role. I'd love to see him again as Boba in TBOBF S2 (and have a whole 'nother pitch there), but Cody is a character that Tem personally originated in ROTS. He also had fantastic chemistry with Ewan as Jango!

So I'd love to see them share a screen again. (plus, age-wise, he's kinda closer to double-speed aged Cody than Boba?)

I could go on forever but…yes, please this.

(also can I help write it?😂😭🙏)

~~End Thread

But yeah, I know better than to get my hopes up, and I have been a clown about this many times before (including but not limited for the actual Obi-Wan S1 lmao).

So here I am with my clown mask ready: 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

(Edit: added this in the tags but:

It does occur to me that another very possible route they could take an Obi-Wan Kenobi season 2 is doing something with Quinlan, since they left that very obvious thread open in S1.

BUT I would still prefer Cody & clones centric😭🙏)

#YukiPri rambles #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Commander Cody #tbh i do not actually want canon romantic codywan #i would much rather prefer ambiguous extreme platonic closeness #but plot focussing entirely on reaching mutual understanding and closure over Order 66 #as well as how the clones as a whole were treated by the Republic #Tbh other than Cody-centric tho what are they gonna do?#another option is following the Quinlan trail they left in S1 but #tbh I'd kinda prefer a Quinlan-centric show not him as guest #Obi-Wan can guest #we will see tomorrow...

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hainethehero · 9 months

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A JOSS WHEDON HATER FOREVER- a think piece on how Avengers 1 set up Steve Rogers to be the MCU's punching bag for the rest of the franchise

(We all know Joss Whedon is an absolute garbage person. He's done many horrible things including being a racist, sexist moron who should be behind literal bars.) This is a commentary on his absolute shit writing for Avengers 1.

This one particular scene and the one following it is purely poor writing & direction for the character of Steve Rogers.👇

After Coulson dies, Fury addresses Steve and Tony and tosses Coulson's bloodied Captain America cards at Steve. He says something like "guess you never found the time to sign them" which is just horribly cruel and though not OOC for Fury, is not something he'd say lightly. We later realize here👇

...that he's secretly trying to put together the team. This is where he makes his big "there was an idea" speech and mentions that "Stark knows this." Because yeah, Tony was made aware of this in Iron Man 1 when Coulson visited and told Pepper. In contrast, Steve had no idea about the Avengers Initiative.

In fact, the dude was just pulled from the Valkyrie in the ice!! In the beginning scene of Avengers 1, we see him at the gym with the punching bag having LITERAL WAR FLASHBACKS about Bucky and Peggy and the Howlies! He's not stable and yet Fury confronts him and ropes him into the mission to get the Tesseract. Steve says, "you should've left it where you found it." And I can't help but think that maybe Steve means himself as well because dude just lost EVERYONE & EVERYTHING he literally knew and cared about.

Anyway, back to the point, Steve knows nothing about the Initiative but is suddenly made to feel guilty about Coulson's death in some kind of roundabout way of "convincing him to join the team" in honor of Coulson.

And then, to make matters WORSE, in the next scene they make HIM comfort Tony 👇

They make him say, "im sorry" (like it was his fault???!) and "he was just doing his job" and "is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" LIKE WTAF???

*INSERTS JACOB ELORDI MEME FROM EUPHORIA SAYING WHAT THE FUCKKKKK?!*

First of all, Steve barely knows these people! Second, he was fond of Coulson and I'm sure they would've been close friends. But did they have to GUILT-TRIP Steve into joining the team? Like, that's just dumb and proves that they don't actually give a fuck about his character!

AND TALK ABOUT MEAN! Fury at least knew about Steve losing Bucky on that train. He KNOWS Steve's first words when he woke up from sleep was "I had a date" reflecting the tragedy of the man out of time. To just rip him out of sleep and thrust him into a mission and later making him feel guilty about Coulson was just pure cruelty, making SHIELD no better than HYDRA. They all saw Steve as a pawn, another mindless soldier to carry out their missions and I hate JW for that.

Steve's character was not accurately portrayed nor was his trauma properly dealt with and so this is why today, we see alot of MCU "fans" calling Steve the worst avenger, lame, boring and basically a crutch to Tony's genius. (I'm a huge Tony Stark fan, don't @ me). It just felt that the mcu wanted to make Tony the ultimate hero- which is fine, Nothing's wrong with that- but they did it at the expense of Steve's character and trauma.

Sadly, this narrative continues all the way down to Endgame and for that I will always hate JW & the mcu's portrayal of Steve Rogers.

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peachdues · 2 months

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THE GREAT WAR (PART I) — ANNOUNCEMENTS AND CONTENT WARNINGS

Well, this one has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?

My goal is to get Part I completed and published this weekend. It will be roughly 25-26k words in length.

I’d really appreciate it if y’all can read through this before you read Part I. The Great War is very different from my other fics, in terms of both style and the general setting, so I feel it necessary to give some context.

First, The Great War is a non-linear story. This might seem a bit confusing, given that Part I takes place over the course of a little more than a year. However, you’ll likely notice there are some gaps in the story as you read through — these are intentional. While Part I is a chronological telling of Reader and Giyuu’s relationship, Part II features several major flashbacks to events that occur during the timeline of Part I that are not actually shown in Part I. So if you find yourself getting curious about when a character finds out a bit of information, or referenced some past occurrence that you didn’t read — know that it’s intentional, and it will show up in Part II.

Second, Part I of The Great War follows the canon timeline as closely as possible, with a few minor deviations. There are references to multiple canon events in the series, and I tried to follow it as much as I could. Huge shoutout to @/demonslayedher her incredible timeline.

Third, the reason TGW has taken so long is that I tried to be as historically accurate as was feasible to both Japan and its culture. That said, Shinto shrines and the practices of Shrine Maidens in particular were heavily cracked down upon by the Imperial government during the Meiji Era (the era immediately preceding the Taishō period in which Demon Slayer is canonically set). Obviously the reality of Shinto shrines and their practices during that period complicates the setting of TGW, and particularly, the Reader character, so I took some creative liberties. However, I do reference the fact that the Shrine where the Reader trains is not what it once was, and it functions more like a girl’s boarding house/school, where the girls who live there just happen to also be educated in Shinto practices/Shrine keeping.

Fourth, because there are a lot of references to Japanese culture and practices, I will link an addendum for your reference. The most important things to know is that Miko means “Shrine Maiden,” which is why it is used frequently.

Finally, I do want to acknowledge that the Reader is given a slight description — namely, in terms of her hair. It is described as very long, and when discussed from Giyuu’s perspective, he frequently depicts it as “silky.” This is not meant to be exclusive in any way — lots of hair types can be silky. I do make a very conscious effort to avoid using physically describing my Reader inserts (apart from acknowledging their beauty because, guess what? You’re all beautiful!!) But as the story is set in Taisho Era Japan and Reader is a Shrine Maiden, I found it difficult to avoid giving some vague description of her hair — especially given its importance with respect to a certain gift she receives from Giyuu during Part I. Please know that these references come up very sparingly, and again, I do avoid going into greater detail. Beyond that, she is only described as beautiful from Giyuu’s point of view.

Now, onto the content and trigger warnings.

Like most of my works, The Great War contains explicit sexual content, so minors do not interact.

This next warning is not so much centered around Part I, but more for the story in general. TGW is heavily centered around Giyuu attempting to deal with his trauma following the end of the canonical series — and it does feature violence as well as instances of PTSD. I don’t believe anything is too graphic, but it’s just something to keep in mind. That said, his PTSD will not appear in Part I — however, it will be a main focus of the story from Part II, on.

So, here are the warnings for The Great War

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • loss of virginity • unprotected sex • virgins being virgins • oral sex (F!receiving) • squirting • fingering • Giyuu is obsessed with Reader’s pleasure • creampies • semi-public sex • tbh they fuck everywhere but the bed • mention of pregnancy • protective Giyuu • possessive Giyuu • Giyuu is a simp for one person and it’s Reader • pregnancy (later)

TW: canon-typical violence • strangulation • PTSD • depictions of trauma • nightmares • some angst • Giyuu struggles with communicating his feelings • brief instance/implication of stalking by a non-canon character • mild description of panic/anxiety

My goal is to have Part I posted this weekend, so here’s to hopefully seeing y’all soon!

#🍑 — announcement #giyuu tomioka #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny tomioka #tomioka giyū #tomioka giyu x reader #giyuu

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keefessketchbook · 3 months

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Episode #7 thoughts

i actually loved this episode, don't hate me

I love love love LOVED the flashback scenes. They were so good at showing a clip of Percy's life yet conveyed all the hardships they had gone through for every dam school

Unpopular opinion, but I enjoyed the scene with Crusty. How I interpreted it was Sally had told him the stories of these monsters and heroes and gods and so when he was face to face with one, he knew how to deal with it since Sally couldn't be there to guide him.

Still on the Crusty scene. I loved how this showed new fans how unpredictable/different the gods and their children could be. i saw a post on here (i think) about how Percy was like when the tide was calm and loving and playful, and how *insert another child of Poseidon* was when the sea was unpredictable and dangerous and out to get anyone in the way. I'm not saying Percy can't be those things but he only shows those characteristics when he or someone he loves is in danger.

THE SCENE BETWEEN POSEIDON AND SALLY WAS *MWAH*

I loved how the writers tricked us, thinking Sally could be saved with the fourth pearl, and Grover losing his and percy being like 'No you are leaving. period' <<<<3333

Also Annabeth giving grover the ball so he wouldn't pick at his horns 😭😭😭

The Cerberus scene was good. Don't really having to say about it.

I loved how Hades offered them Sanctuary. He could see how desperate percy was for his mom and how he didnt really want to be in a war

Hades in general was great

Of course the Tartaus was great

Im so excited to watch tomorrow's episode. It looked so good but im going to be sad not having new episodes release but hey this could lead to them starting filming for season 2!

I love you guys sm!! I really enjoyed doing these too. Love you guys<3. Stay Weird!!!!

#percy jackson #pjo series #leah sava jeffries #pjo #walker scobell #annabeth chase #grover underwood #pjo spoilers

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artemis-entreri · 1 year

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Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves Easter Eggs (Part 2)

[[ Part 1 can be found by clicking this link.

Deep in the Crevices

You've really got to search for these:

Mordenkainen: Yes, him again! Those are the three circles of his two-bladed sword on the Mordenkainen's arcane seal on the Castle Never vault. What's more, those same three circles appear on the front of the helmet of disjunction—which casts Mordenkainen's disjunction.

The spear of Aoth Fezim: Who? The Thayan warmage involved in the War of the Zulkirs during Szass Tam's takeover of Thay in the The Haunted Lands and Brotherhood of the Griffon series of novels by Richard Lee Byers from 2007 to 2013.

Trip and Shuffle: Introduced in A Reader's Guide to R. A. Salvatore's the Legend of Drizzt, marked only on maps since then. Only named on the Monopoly board.

Driftwood Tavern: From Neverwinter Campaign Setting and Drizzly novels. Only named on the Monopoly board and cast list. I don't even recall this in the movie.

The Citadel: Too dark to be sure, but the tower in Thay may be Szass Tam's base of operations.

Holga's darksteel greataxe: Made from darksteel and functioning roughly as last detailed in Magic of Faerûn and Volo's Guide to All Things Magical. This was forged by Ghelryn Foehammer of Targos, who appeared in 2e and 5e.

Loudwater: The thieves robbed Jolym of Jolym's Barrels & Packing in Loudwater, which was only mentioned in Volo's Guide to the North, 1993.

Zulkir Dmitra Flass: a 1300s Red Wizard of Thay, a non-speaking role and named only in the cast list.

Din Caldwell, of the Caldwell family of Baldur's Gate, named only in the cast list.

Porb Piiradost, of the Piiradost family of Waterdeep (not seen since 2nd edition), named only in the cast list.

Lord Nasher Alagondar: That's his giant statue outside the Neverwinter arena.

Lord Halueth Never: So possibly that's his giant statue next to Nasher's

The Gray Hands, just mentioned in the Neverwinter arena.

A portrait of Volothamp Geddarm in instrument to the heist.

How in the Hells Did You Find This?

The most obscure, the deepest cuts:

Pendant of invisibility: Kira's magic item. Most likely a coincidence as it wasn't on the wiki before, but it matches perfectly with a magic item of the same name in the back of Dungeon #112 in 2004.

The flashback of Szass Tam's spell and takeover of Thay appears to be a quick fictionalized summation of the events of The Crimson Gold and Unclean as well as the next century of Thayan history and descent into a necromancer's realm. Presumably this is set circa 1375 before Szass's coup and the Thayan civil war in the latter book.

Szass Tam's beckoning death spell for creating mass numbers of undead follows exactly the supposedly false story of "the spell of Undeath" that the would-be Harper King Rundorl Moonsklan and duped ally of Szass Tam spread in the early 1200s DR, as detailed in The Code of the Harpers by Ed Greenwood in 1993.

Whether or not it can be seen in the final cut of the film, thanks to an old photo from the set of the Triboar playhouse, we know there are images depicting the three boars for which the town was named as well as a shirtless man we assume to be Gwaeron Windstrom (given that god's relevance to the town).

Scenes of Lord Halueth Never and the early history of Neverwinter appear on the walls of Forge's office.

Wild Realmslore Theorizing

Insert meme of madman in front of conspiracy board here.

In Thay, it's "the eve of the solstice" and a few people are carrying red-and-yellow sun symbols. Amaunator the sun god has the summer solstice as his holy day and a sun holy symbol, particularly this one. While newly revived in 1374 DR and his association with Thay is unknown, it is plausible.

Daurgothoth moved into Dolblunde in the Year of Beckoning Death, 1253 DR, which has the same name as the Szass Tam's spell. Daurgothoth, the Creeping Doom, a dracolich, is also conspicuously absent from Dolblunde, while that necromantic spell for creating undead pours forth from something that looks like it just might be part of a dragon's horn.

We don't know officially what type of undead to classify Dralas and the other victims of Tam's beckoning death, however we note that they seem like perhaps a cross between the living Thayan knights and the unliving dread warriors (a favorite and original creation of Tam's).

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

Once again, credit for these finds goes to BadCatMan and the Forgotten Realms Wiki.

Once the movie hits streaming services, I’ll do an updated version of this post with movie screencaps to make it a more thorough visual guide. ]]

#Forgotten Realms #D&D #Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves #DNDmovie #dnd movie #dnd hat #D&D HAT #dungeons & dragons #ooc

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bad-traffic-smp-ideas · 7 months

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3rd life, except on a Bed Wars/Survival Games MCC map

*whispers* Survival Games...

[insert war flashbacks here]

#but also! lord grian dreamslayer!#survival games is so fun but so stressful ahdkfjhjfks #bad traffic idea #ask #trafficblr

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fortheloveofwonderland · 10 months

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Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 13 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - this fic deals with some very dark themes such as drug use, self-harm and suicidal ideation. Please proceed with caution and Minors DNI. There is a reader insert but it is very Spencer-centric.

I am aware a death sentence wouldn’t be granted so fast but artistic liberties were taken. Sue me.

Chapter Summary - Spencer tries to take Maggie’s advice and faces your teasing. Luke and Matt visit and drop a bombshell that could potentially destroy Spencer’s recovery.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - swearing, masturbation (male), fingering, oral (male receiving), voyeuristic dreams, weight gain, mentions of Cat Adam’s, talk of death penalty, Luke’s flashback, stab wounds, self inflicted wounds, blood, mentions of surgery and hospitals.

WC - 4.8k

Chapter 13 - You Want a Battle? (Here’s a War)

He was irritable all day, snapping at people and biting off heads unnecessarily. His unfulfillment of the morning followed him all day like a dark rain cloud. But his days were so busy with therapies and the like, he didn’t have any more alone time.

When he finally did find himself alone after his second group therapy session of the day, it was short lived. He was in bed with the door closed wondering if it would be better to wait until after lights out when he wouldn’t be disturbed. But he was achingly hard and he couldn’t wait any longer.

As he trailed his hand under the sheets and palmed himself through his slacks, the door practically burst open.

“Hey, I thought you might want…” you trailed off and raised an eyebrow at him. “Why are you in bed?”

Spencer snatched his hand away from his bulge and brought it out from under the sheets.

“Tired.” He shrugged. “What do you want?”

“Rude.” You scoffed, inviting yourself in his room. “I wondered if you wanted to hang out. But if you’re too tired…”

“No, I’m fine.” He willed his erection to go down but it was almost impossible with you in his room.

He watched you glance over his photographs before your eyes landed on the chess set on the desk.

“You play?” You asked, pointing at it.

“Yeah, do you?”

“Used to. Haven’t for a long time.” You picked up the set and expertly carried over to the bed without dropping any of the pieces.

Spencer drew his legs closer and crossed them, keeping his bottom half covered by the sheets so you wouldn’t see his painfully obvious erection. Just be sure he grabbed one of his pillows and put it in his lap, leaning on it with his elbows.

You hopped up onto the bed and set the chessboard between the two of you.

“You look weird.” You frowned a little at him.

“Now who’s being rude?” He scoffed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just play the game.” He sighed.

You looked like you might say more on it but thankfully you didn’t and he watched you move a pawn while willing his uncooperative cock to go down.

***

A few hours and three games later, you were on a losing streak. Spencer never lost at chess, except to Gideon, and even with his muddled brain he was still just as good as he always was.

Thankfully the game had been rather uneventful and he’d managed to get his erection to die down. It was a good job too as you’d stolen the pillow from his lap to cushion your shoulder against the wall. Part way through the fourth game you looked up at him curiously.

“Something is bothering you.” You mused. “I can tell.”

“Oh really?” He rolled his eyes.

“Call it intuition. But something is definitely bothering you. Spill.” You challenged him with your gaze.

Spencer really didn’t want to tell you what was on his mind. You were the last person he wanted to talk to about this. But before he could talk himself out of it, the words came spilling from his lips.

“My therapist wants me to masturbate more.” He cursed himself as the words tumbled out.

Your eyes widened and an amused smirk sprung to your lips.

“Ah,” you stifled a laugh. “And you have an issue with that? Jeez I didn’t think men needed to be told to masturbate more often.”

“Yeah, forget I said anything.” He moved his piece on the board but you made no attempt to counter him.

“Seriously, what’s the issue?”

Spencer heaved a sigh. He wished he hadn’t said anything.

“Is it not…this place is far from…you know…?”

“Sexy?” You laughed. “You can’t get it up while you’re in a recovery facility?”

“I didn’t say that.” His cheeks flushed.

“Oh so you can?” Your smirk grew.

“I really don’t want to talk about this.” He focused on the chessboard as he was feeling himself growing hard again.

“You think I’ve been in here for four months and not done it?”

Fucking Christ. Fucking shitting Christ. That is the last thing I need to think about.

“Seriously, can we change the subject?” His face was burning with embarrassment.

He stayed perfectly still because he was worried if he moved you would notice how hard he was beneath the sheet.

“Are you twelve years old? Everybody does it Spencer.” You giggled and that did not help the situation.

“Fuck.” He whined and his voice gave away his arousal.

Your eyes fell to his lap and you instantly saw the bulge in his pants.

“You should take care of that.” You laughed. “It helps with the cravings. It helps relax your mind.”

“Please stop.” He closed his eyes, wishing he were anywhere else in the world.

“I’m being serious! You’re in a foul mood today, an orgasm will do you the world of good.”

His dick throbbed and he knew you must have seen it.

“I’m begging you to stop.”

“And I’m begging you, for the sake of your sanity, just jerk one off.”

The moan that left his lips was completely involuntary and it made his cheeks burn hotter.

“I can go. Or I can stay if you’d prefer?”

“For the love of god.” He groaned. “Go, please? Please just leave.”

“Suit yourself.” You giggled as you jumped back up from the bed. “Happy masturbating, Spencer!”

He groaned again, eyes still closed until he heard the door shut behind you. Seconds later he was laying back on the bed, kicking the chessboard to the floor and relieving himself from his slacks.

He had never been more desperate for touch in his life, even if it was just his own. He watched his hand move up and down his own length, pushing his sleeve up so he could look at your bracelet on his wrist.

Definitely the same bracelet worn by the woman who jerked him off in that alleyway. Closing his eyes and picturing your face as he touched himself, it really didn’t take much time for him to come.

And he didn’t think about drugs or his cravings once.

***

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m close, I’m so goddamn close.” He panted into your neck as you quickened your pace on your strokes.

His fingers were buried inside of you, curling up into your bundle of nerves.

“M-me too.” You moaned, legs shaking beneath you.

You were only able to remain upright due to his body supporting you. His thumb rubbed against your clit and you swore you saw stars. Your legs buckled but he steadied you with his other hand.

“More! More! I need more!” You whined.

He moved his other hand to your shirt where he practically ripped it open, revealing your bare breasts underneath. He bowed his head and took one of your nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth.

“Fuck, I’m so f-fucking close.” He whimpered against your skin before sinking his teeth into your nub.

“Fuck! Fuck!” You screamed, tightening your hold on his cock. “Gonna come. Oh fuck, I’m gonna come!”

“Come for me, angel.” He moaned.

Almost simultaneously you both reached your peaks. He felt you clenching around his fingers and your legs trembled furiously as you screamed out into the night. Seconds later his hot come was spilling onto your hand and his cock twitched as he expelled himself.

He removed his lips from your nipple and rested his forehead against your shoulder while he caught his breath. He held you up right with his arms while you both came down from your highs. When Spencer’s breathing had calmed he looked up at you through hazy eyes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for that.” Cat grinned at him.

His whole body stiffened and he practically shoved her off of him.

“What are you doing? Where’s Y/N?” He panicked.

“Who’s Y/N?” Cat frowned, smoothing down her skirt.

The bracelet around her wrist caught his eye and his heart started to race.

“No, no that’s not yours.” He pointed at it.

Cat turned her wrist over a few times as she inspected it.

“Well I’m the one wearing it. So I guess it is.”

“No, it’s not. That belongs to Y/N. You tricked me!”

“Oh Spencie, lighten up.” Cat rolled her eyes. “Would you rather it was Maeve you made come?”

Suddenly Cat’s face warped right before his very eyes until she was gone and standing in front of him was Maeve.

“You’re so good with your fingers, Spencer.” Maeve smirked at him, moving closer and pressing her lips against his neck.

Her hands wandered his body and despite the fact he’d only just come, he felt himself getting hard again.

“Fuck, this isn’t fair.” He whined.

A hard wrapped around his hardening cock, attached to a wrist that was wearing your bracelet. Maeve smiled at him as she started stroking him.

“I always wished I’d gotten the chance to touch you like this, Spencer.” She was panting even though he wasn’t touching her.

He wanted to touch her, probably more than he’d ever wanted to do anything in his life. But why did it feel like cheating on you?

He kept his hands planted at his sides while Maeve worked his dick. He was panting and moaning and at some point he closed his eyes and lolled his head back against the brick wall.

He felt movement and a few seconds later his shaft was entering a warm, wet mouth.

“Fuck.” His knees buckled a little and he opened his eyes, looking down at the person on their knees.

The hand with the bracelet was wrapped around his base but the set of eyes looking up at him through long lashes weren’t Maeve’s.

They were yours.

“Y/N, thank god.” He panted and then moaned when you took him all the way in your mouth.

His eyes closed of their own accord again as he gave himself over to the feeling. For a few minutes he was allowed to revel in the sensation and then a voice snapped his eyes back open.

“Have you ever thought about masturbation?” Maggie stood at his side, eyebrow raised.

“You know all the facts and statistics on pretty much everything. So I’m sure that you know all the benefits of masturbation, Reid.” Tara was at his other side.

“You think I’ve been in here for four months and not done it?” You came off his dick and stood up. “Are you twelve years old? Everybody does it Spencer.”

“I used to do it as soon as we got off the phone each Sunday.” Maeve laughed, appearing at your side.

“It did it thinking about you being locked in prison.” Cat resurfaced.

“I’ve done it on the BAU jet.” Luke emerged.

“Haven’t we all?” Tara laughed.

“What is going on?” Spencer groaned, pushing himself back against the wall.

“It’s perfectly natural Spencer, jeez you’ve always been so uptight.” Another face emerged.

“E-Ethan?” Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Pretty boy will always be uptight.” Morgan was suddenly there too, laughing.

“It’s just self pleasure, Spencie. It will make you feel so good.” Cat pouted at him.

Your fingers snaked around his wrist which was now adorned with the purple and gold band again. You guided his hand towards his still exposed dick.

“Try it, you’ll love it.” You smiled at him.

“It will stop your cravings.” Maggie chimed in.

“I-I’m not…with an a-audience.” Spencer tried to fight your grip.

“We can all do it too, if it’ll help.” Luke chuckled.

“W-what? No! That won’t help!” His hand was on his cock against his will.

“Mmm just like that, Spencer.” Maeve sighed happily.

His hand was moving up and down his shaft without his meaning too, all the eyes on him and what he was doing.

“God that’s hot.” Ethan moaned a little as he spoke.

“Feels good right?” Tara nudged him in the arm.

“No! No, I don’t want this! Don’t look at me!” He closed his eyes but his hand kept moving.

“Give us a show, kid.” Morgan spoke again.

He tried to block out the sounds of the people crowded around him, tried to ignore everything in the hopes they would disappear. He kept his eyes screwed tightly shut trying to pretend he was alone and that all these people weren’t witnessing what he was doing.

His hand continued its movements even though he wanted it to stop. His audience goaded him, giving him words of encouragement. His orgasm built and eventually he came with a strangled moan, feeling completely mortified that all these people had seen what he’d done.

Panting slightly and legs trembling he cautiously opened his eyes…

…A nurse stood at his bedside, his medication in one hand and a cup of water in the other.

“You were out like a light.” She smiled slightly.

Spencer frowned and with a shaking hand he took the medication and the water and tossed them both back. He didn’t say a word as the nurse took the cups back and wheeled her trolley out of the room. His heart was racing as he leant back against the pillows.

He could feel his cock softening in his pants. And he could feel his sticky come lining his underwear.

***

For the week that followed Spencer didn’t see you once. It was so easy to believe it was all in his head when you showed up so sporadically. He wanted to see you more than anything else in the entire world. He wanted to see you more than he wanted drugs for Christ sake.

So it stood to reason, given his desperation to see you and the side effects from years of drug use, he was imagining you. It was the only way to explain how, when he did see you, you acted as though you had no idea who he was. It was just his subconscious willing you to be here and the withdrawals causing him to hallucinate.

But if that was the case, how did he explain the bracelet still adorned on his wrist? Tara had seen it too so he certainly wasn’t imagining that. His head was a fucking mess. He needed to see Emily.

By the next time he had a visitor, he wasn’t even a little surprised it wasn’t her. But he had to admit that seeing the two faces waiting for him in the gym put a smile on his face.

“There he is!” Matt grinned as Spencer limped through the door.

“Hey man, you’re looking a lot better. Healthier.” Luke smiled too.

Spencer was able to walk cautiously on his own now and it was so freeing. His leg still hurt but nowhere near as much as it used to.

“Thanks. I guess I’ve put some weight back on.” He patted his stomach. He was still skinny but his three meals a day were helping him back towards his normal weight.

Luke pulled him into a hug as soon as he was close enough and Spencer felt his cheeks burning a little. The last time he’d seen Luke he’d been trying to trade sexual favours with him in exchange for drugs and then had to confess to him he’d had a wet dream. And on top of that he’d had two risqué dreams featuring the other man.

He averted his gaze when the hug ended and focused on hugging Matt. Maybe subconsciously Spencer had always been attracted to Luke and just never realised it. Or maybe it was just because he hadn’t gotten laid in a while. Yeah that had to be it.

“How have you been?” Matt asked with his usual soft smile, and Spencer shrugged.

Now he was seeing him again, Spencer wondered how he’d ever seen a similarity between him and Cedric.

“I’ve definitely been better. But all things considered I’m…ok.” He nodded, refusing to make eye contact with Luke so he focused on Matt.

“You look a hell of a lot better since I last saw you.” Luke spoke and Spencer just nodded.

“Why have we met in the gym? I can barely walk, let alone play sports.” Spencer directed at Matt.

“We thought we could just bounce a ball around, give you a change of scenery.” Matt walked over towards the racks on the far wall that held an array of basketballs.

“Sure.” Spencer chuckled. “Why not?”

The three of them bounced a ball between them while Matt and Luke filled Spencer in on the goings on at the BAU. Apparently he’d missed a lot.

Rossi and Krystall had gotten married, something Rossi hadn’t mentioned when he’d visited. He supposed it wasn’t a time to show off his happiness when Spencer was struggling, but he still wished the older man would have told him. Spencer hadn’t even noticed his wedding ring.

Kristy was now pregnant for the fifth time and Matt was preparing his house for another baby. Spencer was happy for them but it left him feeling guilty. He’d been so wrapped up in himself that he’d become out of the loop in his friends lives.

But the biggest news by far was delivered by Luke after Spencer’s leg had enough of standing and he was sitting on the floor watching the two men toss the ball between them.

“So uh…I guess we should probably tell him?” Luke spoke to Matt as he caught the ball before throwing it back to the other man.

“Tell me what?” Spencer frowned up at them from the ground.

“Be my guest.” Matt replied, bouncing the ball a few times, the sound echoing throughout the gym.

Luke sighed, running a hand through his dark hair before looking at Spencer. He moved closer to him and slid down to the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him. Spencer looked between Luke and Matt who stayed on his feet distracting himself with the ball.

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Spencer folded his arms with a frown.

“Emily got a call a few days ago from Mount Pleasant Correctional Facility.” Luke played with his hands in his lap.

“Cat Adam’s facility?” Spencer croaked.

“Yeah.” Luke sighed as he spoke. “She requested the death penalty. And her petition was granted. But uh…she’s asked to see you before she’s put to death, she wants to see you.”

“Fuck.” Spencer let his arms fall to his sides and he hung his head, furiously grinding his teeth. “She doesn’t want to go to her grave before she sees how much she fucked up my life.”

“Emily wasn’t sure if telling you was a good idea. But we thought you had a right to know.” Matt held the ball in his arms, close to his chest.

“That bitch will not be satisfied until she has completely destroyed me.” He reached into his sleeve and caressed your bracelet.

“We uh…spoke to your doctor when we got here. As long as you're supervised they will grant you day release to visit her, if you want to.” Luke sounded guilty.

Clearly they hadn’t discussed this with Emily. Spencer looked at Luke, a pained expression in his eyes.

“That seems like a really dumb idea.” Spencer huffed out a breath, blood boiling his veins at the mere thought. “But I haven’t exactly been known for my good decision making recently.”

“I get why Emily was skeptical about telling you. It could cause you more harm than good.” Matt nodded.

“But it could also provide you closure.” Luke added.

“This is the last thing I need.” Spencer grazed his fingers up and down the woven band.

“We’re sorry man. We thought you’d rather know than be kept in the dark.” Luke looked guiltily at Matt.

“How long?” Spencer closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall.

“How long?” Matt questioned.

“How long until she’s executed?”

He was met by a few seconds of silence but he kept his eyes screwed tightly shut in the meanwhile. He knew Luke and Matt would be subconsciously trying to decide who would answer that. Eventually he heard Luke sigh before he spoke.

“Two weeks. The judge had a rush put on it.” Luke croaked out.

“Goddamnit.” Spencer groaned, opening his eyes and looking between the two men. “God-fucking-damnit.”

“Just think about it. No one’s going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Luke offered him a sad smile.

“The last thing I need to do is think about Cat Adam’s.” Just saying her name made him want to use again.

He needed to forget all about her and all the twisted, fucked up things she’d done to him. He didn’t want to think about her let alone see her.

“I’m sorry, man. We didn’t want to…” Matt trailed off as his phone started to ring and he stepped away as he answered it.

Luke glanced at Spencer who looked pale and like he suddenly had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I’m really sorry.” He spoke softly. “We talked about it on the drive here and thought telling you was the best option. Maybe we were wrong.”

“I think I’d rather have known.” Spencer sighed.

“Do you think you’ll see her?”

“I really don’t know right now. It’s a lot to process. I don’t think any good could come of seeing her. But also maybe it would give me closure. I don’t know.” He rubbed his eyes hard with his palms before looking back at Luke. “Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m uh…I’m sorry for the stuff I said and the way I acted the last time I saw you.” He felt his cheeks instantly redden.

“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it. You didn’t mean it.” Luke also blushed.

“I was…I was a mess.” Spencer chewed on his lip, averting his gaze again.

“I get it. It’s fine, really. You were better than you were the last time I saw you before that.”

He suddenly looked back at Luke, eyes wide.

“W-when was that?” He choked on his words.

“I guess six months ago?” Luke shrugged. “I was visiting Lisa at the hospital during her shift and I found you.”

“In the hospital?”

“Yeah. You were in a complete state….”

Luke happily traversed the corridor, bouquet of flowers in his hand as he made his way to find his girlfriend. He hummed a little as he walked, excited to see her after over a week away on a case.

He made his way down the hall and through the ER which was the quickest route to the bank elevators which would take him to the physical therapy ward on the fourth floor. The ER was relatively quiet given it was a Tuesday afternoon and Luke manoeuvred through doctors and nurses weaving their way between beds.

Suddenly a loud, angry voice cut through all the other noises in the emergency room, causing Luke to halt in his tracks.

“I said don’t fucking touch me!” The voice screamed and Luke watched a doctor run towards a closed curtain of one of the bays.

As the doctor pulled back the curtain, Luke was able to see the messy haired, painfully skinny man who was trying to fight off the doctors and nurses around him.

“Don’t touch me!” He yelled again, swatting away a nurse. “I’m fine!”

“Sir you are bleeding profusely. You need to let us take a look.” The doctor spoke calmly.

Luke froze, the bouquet of flowers falling to the floor from his limp hand.

“I don’t care! Don’t touch me!”

Luke forced himself to move, stepping tentatively closer to the bay. He watched on in horror as the doctor tried to touch him again but was smacked in the arm.

“Sir you have to let us check you out.”

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me!”

Blood was seeping through his shirt from his stomach but every time someone tried to lift his shirt, they were batted away.

“Someone get me sedative.” The doctor spoke over his shoulder.

Luke’s legs had carried him closer until he was standing right by the open curtain.

“No! No sedatives! Just leave me alone!” He fought off another doctor, sitting up in the bed and groaning in pain as he did so.

His hand shot to his stomach and he doubled over.

“You’re in a lot of pain, let us help you.” The doctor tried to help him lay back down.

“I said I’m fine! Goddamnit go help someone who needs it!”

A nurse handed the doctor a syringe of what Luke presumed to be a sedative and as the doctor turned he spotted Luke hovering.

“Excuse me sir, you shouldn’t be here.” The doctor told him but Luke ignored him, stepping closer still.

“Reid?” Luke finally spoke and Spencer stopped fighting off doctors and looked up.

Their eyes met but Luke could tell Spencer didn’t recognise him. He could also ascertain from the size of his pupils that he was high.

“Sir please you need to-“

“Spencer?” Luke ignored the doctor again. “Spencer it’s me, Luke. Luke Alvez?”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Luke for a moment or two. It seemed like a lifetime before recognition started to dawn on his features.

“Luke!” He nodded frantically. “Luke, you gotta tell them I’m ok. Get them away from me.”

“Can I take a look? Can I see where the bleeding is coming from?” Luke stepped closer to the bed.

Spencer pulled a face but then sighed.

“I guess.” He fumbled untucking his shirt from his slacks and peeled the blood soaked fabric away from his skin.

He was morbidly slim, but the wound in his stomach and the blood pooling from it was more of a concern right now.

“What did you do?” Luke asked softly.

“Stabbed myself.” Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “Worse than it looks. S’fine.”

“You need to let the doctors help you, Reid. It’s pretty nasty.”

“No!” Spencer yelled again, pulling his shirt down to cover the wound. “Nobody is touching me!”

He suddenly started flailing again, more violently than before and smacked Luke in the face in the process. Luke growled at the impact and stepped backwards as the doctor came closer. He tried to grab at Spencer’s wrist but Spencer hit him too.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He screeched. “I’ll fucking kill you! Don’t touch me or I swear I’ll kill you!”

The doctor tried again, this time managing to grasp Spencer’s wrist and forcibly roll his sleeve up. Luke recoiled when he saw the pulsing track marks beneath his shirt, feeling his stomach turn. As Spencer continued to kick and scream, the doctor managed to inject him with the sedative.

“No! No!” He screamed again but soon he went silent and his limbs stopped thrashing and fell heavily to the bed.

Luke stumbled backwards while doctors clamoured over his friend. His heart beat frantically in his chest and he felt tears stinging his eyes as he backed out of the bay and the curtains were once again drawn, shielding Spencer from his view.

“I ended up hanging around to make sure you were ok. They took you into surgery and patched you up but I was too scared to see you when you woke up. I should have stayed. I was a coward.” Luke shook his head sadly.

“I probably wouldn’t have been happy to see you if that makes you feel any better.” Spencer subconsciously ran his fingers over his stomach. At least that explained the mysterious scar on his abdomen.

Just then Matt headed back towards them, pocketing his phone.

“The doctor has put Kristy on bed rest so I need to get back to help with the kids.” He smiled sadly.

Luke pushed himself up from the ground before helping Spencer to his feet.

“Thanks for coming guys. I really appreciated the distraction.” Spencer coiled his arms around his waist.

“I’m sorry if what we told you makes things worse for you. We just thought you had a right to know.” Matt squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s ok.” Spencer shrugged, following them towards the door of the gym.

Luke held the door open for him as he limped out and once outside he turned to Spencer.

“If you decide you want to see her, call me ok? I can go with you if you need me to.” Luke reached out for him and Spencer found himself falling into Luke’s arms.

He clung to the other man as though he was his only lifeline. Tears sprung behind his eyes but he refused to let them fall.

“Thank you. I’ll think about it.” As if he’d be able to think of anything else.

When the hug ended he sniffed back any tears still threatening to escape. He waved goodbye to them both as his arms snaked around his own waist again, holding himself by way of protecting him against all the evil in the world.

Or at the very least, it might protect him against thoughts of Cat Adam’s.