#this has made the original look worse to me because apparently

[shenachigans]

LETTER | Signora/Rosalyne

PAIRING: Signora/Rosalyne x Gn!Fatuus!Reader

CW: angst no comfort, character d3aths (two people are implied to pass away), toxic relationship, reader and Signora are only flings, mentions of su!cide, mentions of smut but not explicitly, Scaramouch makes an appearance.

SUMMARY: You were nothing but a fleeting moment in the Fair Lady’s life, but a single letter caused a permanent scar in her heart, far worse than what Rostam left her. 

A/N: Ask me why I rewrote a fanfic from 2021 in 2023. It’s because I needed to get out of this damn thing called writer’s block <3 This original fanfic was inspired by a convo I had with Kuro about Signora’s death… :( It’s gender neutral but it was written with a female reader in mind. Her Majesty refers to the Tsaritsa and Rostam is Signora’s late lover btw.

WORDS: 2,413

(FANFIC IS UNDER THE CUT!)

Signora… Rosalyne, rather, is a woman who harbors negative emotions. Rostam’s death brought her so much grief, turning her into the misunderstood Crimson Witch. Love rendered Rosalyne miserable, and the burning fire in her heart was too powerful to extinguish. 

It was because of the Tsaritsa that made her who she is today, a cold Harbinger named Signora, the Fair Lady. She devoted herself to the Cyro Archon for vengeance so that she may let her lover rest once and for all. Everything she does is to honor him, and she will continue to do so until she meets him again. 

The power of liquid fire gave Signora a longer lifespan. It was useful for revenge, but it was dreadful when she longed for her lover. They have been apart for so many centuries. But amid her life, someone caught her attention.

You were but a simple Fatuus messenger who served the Sixth Harbinger Balladeer. It was rare for Harbingers to cross paths with one another, much less their servants, but Signora saw you — far more than she could remember. 

She observed you from afar out of pure interest. Perhaps she was bored. Perhaps she found you suspicious, for you were too naive and pure to work for an organization like this. But you were skilled in your field. Your talent juxtaposed your looks, she admits. And so she asked the Tsaritsa to place you in her division, deeming you would be more fit under her wing.

The Fair Lady wanted to keep you. 

The reason: unknown. 

The ambiguity of why Signora took you in soon disappeared. She found herself seeing a part of Rostam in your nature. It was more apparent when she learned of your feelings toward her. Just like Rostam, she would say, of course, not in your presence. She became infatuated with you over time. It wasn’t the same infatuation as your previous lovers, but you welcomed her with open arms. 

How could you deny the woman, who was clearly out of your league? 

When Inazuma closed its borders, your relationship as lovers became official, albeit a secret from the others, though everyone can sense a rather unusual intimate atmosphere between you two. 

You two weren’t like others, not because you were in a relationship with your superior, but because she was indifferent and sought your affection, not you. It may be because of her past — that you didn’t know of — but you pushed the heavy feelings aside as you were grateful to have the privilege to call Signora yours. 

You did everything you could to make her feel loved, and Signora felt like her old self, the young maiden from Mondstadt, Rosalyne: the young woman who was in love with a knight named Rostam. But your time together was fleeting.

The demise of your relationship started when she was assigned to collect the Gnoses per the Tsaritsa’s command. You two became equally busy. Signora became more distant and tense, too focused on the mission as if she had been waiting for this moment. She has, but you didn’t know why. 

Other Fatuus turned their backs on you upon learning your relationship with the Harbinger. It was understandable, but you didn’t receive special treatment. You worked harder than everyone else, and Signora was harsher toward you, pinning every mistake your peers committed. 

Thoughts filled your head, wondering if your relationship with Signora was normal for lovers. All she does is take, take, and take, but not once has she given you the same affection. You tried to understand her, but you were hurting yourself. Even so, you still loved her, because love comes with pain, does it not? Surely, this is only a bumpy road in your relationship.

You were wrong. You knew your relationship was over when Signora requested Her Majesty to place you back in Balladeer’s unit. She didn’t say anything, but her actions told you of her intentions. It hurt how cold she was to you that day as if you weren’t the person she shared her bed with, entangled in each other’s bodies. She acted like your time together meant nothing to her.

As you readjusted to being under Balladeer’s command, not once have you seen Signora. You knew she didn’t want to see you anymore, but your heart did not waver, rather, your heart ached from not seeing her. You were holding onto false hope — hoping she was only distant to remain professional, but you knew she was too busy, or did not bother, to officialize your parting. 

Everything you did was for her, just as everything Signora did was for Rostam. You realized you knew nothing of her past, save for having a lover. You did not know him, what their story was, and how they parted. But you saw longing and love in Signora’s eyes. 

There were times when Signora looked at you with an unrecognizable gaze. Only now did you learn what it was. The ache in your heart was unbearable, knowing you were just someone to fill the hole in her heart, the hole Rostam left. She didn’t love you like you loved her. It hurt so much. But you were meant to be utilized, for you were a tool. A tool has various purposes. Signora merely took advantage of your love to fulfill her needs. 

It was hard to accept, but you tried to, for this was reality. After all, the Fair Lady gave you, a mere Fatuus, an opportunity to become part of her private life. A Harbinger cannot be romantically involved with an underling. Although you can no longer call her yours, it was a privilege you had, and you will forever cherish your time together, because everything you do is for her, regardless of what she saw you as. You were only flings, but your feelings for her will remain eternal.

You just hope she will remember you, even when you no longer live… 

.

.

.

“What uselessness. Your lover, rather, ex-lover, tried to attack the blonde due to some personal grudge. My plans would’ve gone smoothly if not for their interruption,” Scaramouche grumbled, crossing his arms with a petty scoff. “It wasn’t even a big injury; they bled to death. Her Majesty would’ve had them disposed of were they to survive anyway.” 

Signora was too engrossed in your state to process his words as horrified eyes gazed at your lifeless body before her. Cuts and bruises decorated your skin, and the shine in your eyes was now dull. She had realized you were dead. But somehow, you looked more at peace, as though she could see you smiling at her with glimmering eyes. She felt her heart sink from the thought.

“I could’ve left them where they were, so you owe me, Signora. Alas, you better not linger for too long, you have yet to meet the Shogun,” are the words the puppet told her before swinging the sliding the shoji doors and disappearing to who-knows-where.

It was a déjà vu, a familiar feeling, yet it was different. Signora’s feelings didn’t make sense. You were nothing but a fleeting moment in her life, but the impact you had on her was great. You passed away fighting someone, like Rostam when he fought in the war and lost his life. Only this time, there was a corpse presented before her.

Signora didn’t know how long she towered over your body and bore into your soulless eyes, but it must’ve been a while for salty tears pooled on the bloody tatami mat. And so she fell on her knees as her sobs grew louder. Trembling fingers carefully mounted your head on her chest, cradling you like a newborn child. The growing pool of blood tainted everything around you, including Signora’s precious dress.

Your body was losing warmth each second, and she was desperately holding onto everything that was left. Signora received everything you had. She wishes you keep your warmth. You can’t throw it away like some fool, but she knew it was too late. Your fingertips were as cold as her delusion’s powers. 

The last time she cried, tears of amber rolled down her cheeks, turning her into the Crimson Witch as liquid fire consumed her. But here she was, weeping salty tears like a human being. Does a part of her humanity still linger within her? Was this your doing? It was a bittersweet feeling, she admits. But she remembers you’re no longer with her. Your bright soul is gone because of her.

“You fool! I… I couldn’t even say goodbye…”

The woman you gave your heart to let her walls down as she grieved, her heart tightening from the pain. 

But didn’t she use you? Why would she grieve for a pawn she used? She couldn’t possibly have the right to mourn for you when your death is the consequence of her actions, her indifference. 

Signora hugs you close as she rocks on her knees like a mother hushing her crying child. But she was crying, and you were hushed, still and cold, stinging her skin. Only your blood remained warm, but it was soon drying up, becoming as cold as you, further bringing pain to her heart.

Is this Celestia’s punishment for going against the heavenly principles? Must her life be full of woe? 

Signora’s sobs resonated around the room, grief apparent in her cries, hugging you tighter and tighter, refusing to let you go until her fingers brushed against a tattered letter from your coat’s pocket. Tears soaked her attire to clear her vision and grab the letter. 

Her stomach churned as she saw to whom it was for. It was for her. 

Dear Signora,

I never got to know your real name, My Lady. I didn’t want to pry by asking, but your name must be beautiful. It’s a shame, really. I would’ve loved for your name to fall from my lips. It would’ve been intimate of us, don’t you think? Alas, we weren’t meant to be. I understand you have your reasons for being distant and for using me. It was painful — for the woman I love does not reciprocate my feelings — but I hold no grudge, nor regret giving my life to you. I’m honored to have been able to give you my love. I will forever cherish the fleeting moments we shared. 

I’m writing you this letter to officialize the goodbye we never had. The moment I was brought back to my unit, I knew we were over, but I hoped you would come back for me. It was a foolish thought, I know, but it’s funny now that I think about it. I really am in love. And I keep hoping for something impossible because my feelings are strong for you, My Lady. Please don’t feel burdened. I say this because, as much as you try to hide it, and it may be presumptuous of me, but you care. You may not love me, but I can feel your caringness toward me. I’m grateful. I truly am.

Now, if ever you read this letter, it means I’m no longer alive. I made sure of it. It would be a miracle if you even found this letter. Please don’t misunderstand the situation. I wavered a duel with the traveler for a reason. Even if I came back unscathed, which would be another miracle, my life would be terminated by Her Majesty for my disobedience. I don’t dare to take my own life. Frankly, I wish to say I’m tired, My Lady. I simply do not find joy in being alive anymore and wish to rest. I’ve been planning for this moment for a long time, even before I met you, so please don’t blame yourself for my death. I admire how you still have that will within you. The reason must be to avenge someone you loved, no? I apologize for doing some background work on your history, albeit not finding much, but I wanted to know more about you. 

I hope you succeed, My Lady. I wish for you to lay off your burdens and find peace. I want to thank you for making my life bloom with color before I left. Therefore, I have no regrets in life. Although without your permission, allow me to say I love you. I may have never said these words in front of you, and have been contemplating whether or not to say them, but I was too late to decide. Thus, I end my letter with my declaration of love and parting.

I love you so much, My Fair Lady.

— Your former Fatuus underling.

The letter fell from her grasp as she drowned in grief, the ink drowning in her tears, rendering the paragraphs illegible. Was she so distant that you dared not sign your letter intimately? You even addressed her formally, as if it was a report. Why did you stay with someone like her? She knew why, but she refused to acknowledge it. You loved her so much that you put yourself and your pain aside to please her and let yourself get used.

Signora cups your face, gently pressing her warm lips against your forehead, your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, until your cold lips meet with hers. How your lips cuddled against hers, oh so perfectly. Only now did she realize how warm your kisses were, how you would smile and blush, even if it was a quick peck. Those kisses were your kisses, they weren’t Rostam’s.

She was responsible for your death, Signora assures. You may have been planning it for a long time, but her ignorance caused the last blow. Had she not exploited you, you might've still been breathing, and happy with someone who deserves you, someone who would devote their life to you, someone who would love you as you loved her. You were the flower she poisoned and left to wither due to her actions…

Signora truly did not deserve someone like you.

“My name is Rosalyne. Please say it, my name. Please speak, please…”

A blood-chilling cry of grief filled the room when you remained silent, unable to utter the name you yearned to say. You were gone, truly gone. She killed you.

Rosalyne didn’t choose you because you were an image of Rostam. She chose you because you made her feel human. But she was blinded, not realizing the truth behind her emotions.

.

.

.

“Rosalyne!”

It wasn’t you; it was Rostam.

A/N: For those confused with the ending, Signora follows canon events, which means she's...

© shenachigans — do not plagiarise, translate, repost, or copy.

#la signora #signora angst #fatui signora #genshin signora #signora x reader #genshin impact signora #la signora angst #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact drabbles #fem reader #genshin impact smut #gender neutral reader

[maeby-cursed]

SOMETIMES I'M NOT MYSELF, I LOOK FOR A BETTER DISGUISE…

𓂃 DANCING TILL THE POWER GOES OUT.

a/n: following with my songfic series, this one is inspired by valiente by vetusta morla (the original lyrics are "a veces no soy yo, busco un disfraz mejor / bailando hasta el apagón") ! this is also an angst fic but the vibe in this one is a bit more pungent. i apologize for making toji like this, i will get back to my soft!toji program soon ♡ (this one is vv weird, btw, and i wrote it while suffering from a headache, enjoy)

✧ synopsis: you met toji seven months ago and since then, the only thing you've both agreed on is how much you cannot stand each other. now it's time to go; even if it means giving up trying, and leaving a familiar warmth behind.

✧ pairings: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

✧ wc: 1.6k

✧ rating: angst ! pure angst, discounted and at a good price ! angst and pain; two for the price of one ! of the richest quality and endless suffering !!

✧ cw: toxic relationship, toji suffers from toxic masculinity, a bit of an age gap (toji is early 30s, reader is implied to be early 20s), mentions of toji's shitty ass economy, heavy cursing.

There’s a storm inside your house and it is made of cries locked within the walls of your lover’s apartment.

You and Toji have been arguing for six months out of the seven you’ve known him.

Apparently, May flowers brought November showers (or better said, downpours), as well as a thick darkness, because since last week, Toji's entire street has been without light, water or electricity. 

A desert in the middle of a flood, seems almost biblical.

Both of you are in the kitchen – distressingly narrow and painted in a gloom shade of indigo –, in the midst of your fifth discussion this week. The fridge door is open while you talk, but neither of you cares, all of its contents are already wasted, anyways. The light doesn’t even flicker.

You don't know exactly how this particular fight started.

Toji had arrived at his apartment – his, exclusively – late, with a bag of fast food in hand. An individual order. When he’d arrived, he’d looked at you and asked you what you were doing there, and everything had gotten out of hand from that point on.

After six months of waiting for him in the same place, in the same position, in the same corner of his grimy sofa, you'd thought he might remember you, might remember that you are a constant in his life.

Not the case.

The fight escalates to such an extent that you find yourself shouting and gesticulating aggressively.

What starts badly ends worse, your grandmother used to say.

(And yet, it ends).

So now you stand barefoot, in your white slip, looking at him with all the fire you can fan into your eyes. 

"I have no fucking idea what is it that you want, Toji Fushiguro, but you need to stop looking for it in me. Either take me as I am or leave me, it's as simple as that."

He looks back at you, his gaze shallow. He always stares at you like this, as if instead of seeing you, he were trying to evaluate you; like you’re nothing but a mere statue to him and he’s looking for a spot where the artist could’ve slipped his chisel. 

But you don’t cower before him. Although his height seemed imposing when you first met him, he now seems ridiculous to you. A child hidden behind a brick wall.

"Could you stop talking in code for two fucking minutes?"

"I want you to stop treating me like shit. You caught on now?"

He laughs unfunnily.

"I think I treat you pretty well, girl."

"Really?" you smile. There's a part of you that cringes at the gesture; he's been souring you since you met. Now you're fed up, but you know you'll never be able to return all of the blows he’s knocked you out with. "You think coming home and taking me to your bedroom for five minutes of grunts and sweat is treating me well?"

"Our bedroom."

That does make you laugh.

"Fuck, Toji, I don't live here! You never asked me to move in with you. And I've waited for you but I'm..... I don't even know what I am. Disappointed, maybe?" Your mood begins to shift as you search for him with your stare. You want to see some sort of reaction, something that isn’t a performance, something that doesn’t act as a mirror. 

Something that tells you he cares about you.

"I thought I was dating an adult,” you continue, softly now. “That we could talk about it but... God, you're exactly like all the men I've been trying to avoid. All savages, the lot of you; too barbaric to be able to say you feel anything, even if it’s pure lust."

He raises a brow, closing the refrigerator door with a slam and leaning against the countertop with a click of his tongue.

"You want me to tell you that you make me horny?" he asks, with an ironic smirk.

"I want you to tell me that there's something that goes with the sex. Something that can last."

He doesn't say anything, just exhales loudly, huffing with annoyance.

And for some reason, the gesture takes you back two decades ago, when your father used to do that to you. A puff of air like cigarette smoke whenever you wanted something he didn't feel like giving you; mostly his time.

You don't know where the memory comes from, but it hurts. It burns and coats your throat with bile.

"There’s nothing," he whispers, at last. 

Now you really have to make an effort not to vomit.

Silly girl, you say to yourself, you already knew that. But it's no use.

"And I had to dig that out of you with a spoon, baby," you tell him, dripping with sarcasm.

He doesn't notice how you pale, how you grab the skirt of your dress and bite the inside of your cheek. He doesn't smell your despair, nor the copper drops emanating from the wound you've caused yourself by biting on your skin.

Toji's not a bloodhound, no matter how much he resembles one. He's just an asshole.

Your words make him frown and stick out his jaw. You recognize his hint – you’d recognize him by taste alone –, it's the gesture he makes before he fights.

"And what the fuck did you expect? For me to telepathically figure out whatever shit you’re thinking?"

"No, Toji. I just wanted an answer." That’s it, you suppose.

You sigh, unclenching your fists without relaxing your shoulders, and head for the bedroom. Except for your cell phone and a pair of nightgowns, you have almost nothing here. Let him keep the panties, if he gave them back to you, you'd burn them anyway. 

He follows when you pass him by on your way out of the kitchen, and, for once, he looks incredulous.

"What? You think we’re done chatting?"

"I don't even feel like looking at that asshole face of yours anymore."

Every word that comes out of your mouth stabs him in the spleen. He's never seen you like this.

You have nothing left to care for, nothing left to protect from the storm, nothing to hope and pray to see bloom. Your land is infertile and all you feel is frustration, so there's no more measuring yourself.

To hell with all this.

"Yesterday it was all about cuddling and today you're leaving,” he says. “What did you expect?" At that, he smiles with malice, one that, unfortunately, is not unfamiliar to you. "That we were going to fall madly in love? That this was about more than sex? Oh, but you're just a little girl. I've been with a hundred of the likes of you."

He's lying. You know he's lying. 

This man has never loved a woman in his life – you pity his mother – but he's not a manwhore either. He wears things out until he’s outgrown them.

It's funny — he’s always looked too big on you.

Your head turns around, but you stay frozen where you are, kneeling in front of the bottom drawer of his nightstand. On your knees, you almost look like you're praying, but your eyes condemn a truth that hurts him. It burns and coats his throat with bile.

"I never expected you to fall in love with me, Toji. I'm not that stupid," you look at the drawer again, taking clothes and shoving them carelessly into your bag. "I'm just young."

“I may be young, but give me time.” Those words, the ones you told him when he met you, a little over half a year ago, ring in his ears. “I can take a hundred men like you.”'

He remembers them now, gall climbing up to his uvula. Your smile back then clashes with your current tears. You have aged seven years in seven months.

He can see it in your posture, in the expensive fabric of your dress and the way you tie your hair back. He can see it in the depth of your cupid's bow, in the care with which you hold your hands.

You know how to handle dynamite now, but you can't stop gunpowder from blowing up.

Toji is speechless. He doesn't want you to leave, but he's already worn you out, you've already woken up from your reverie. He hasn’t outgrown you yet.

When you get up, your cheeks are covered with tears. You wipe them away carefully; you would’ve never done that back when he met you.

You were free then; of wild smiles and clumsy hands, of loud cries and smell of freesias. Young with bravado, a shell of the sea.

Seeing you like this, knowing you're going away, turns his stomach. This is the last time, and you don't smell like freesia anymore. You're all orange and lavender, unmistakable and silent.

Toji raises a hand and brings it up to you. For a split second of madness you think he's going to slap you, but he simply catches a strand of your hair; only instead of tucking it behind your ear, he lets it curl around your cheek.

His hand falls to his side – he wasn't raised to be like this. He wasn’t raised to get you to stay.

"Get out," he murmurs, the timbre of his voice low and plangent.

You close your eyes for a moment, just to find his image behind your eyelids; smiling and defiant, with a glass of champagne in his hand and kohl-stained eyes.

The tide inside washes away everything else.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

What starts badly ends worse, you think. 

(And yet, it ends).

© 2023, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.

(reblogs are appreciated !!)

#🎐 𓂃 mae’s typing ! #jjk imagines #jjk angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #toji angst #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro angst #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Tear Down My Reason

Orderly!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: Your friend and follow paitent has seemingly disappeared. There surely has to be some clue of her whereabouts in Blue's office.

Part 2/Series Masterlist

A/N: I don't know what to say.

Warnings: overuse of italics, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, there's some power dynamics in here, gonna say dubious concent because reader is a patient, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 4805

________________________________

The lock on Blue’s office was embarrassingly easy to pick. For an asylum that was meant to house potentially dangerous individuals, they sure did have piss poor security.

Though, you technically were the only patient that could unlock doors with your improvised kit. A bent to hell fork, three hair pins, and a sort of straightened out spring from Abigail’s bed. 

Which is why you had to be the one to sneak in. 

The others had offered to come with you, not wanting you to face the risk alone. But, the more people the more likely it was that you’d be caught. 

The original plan had been for you to do this at night, ‘when no one else was around’, but as you’d quickly pointed out, there were plenty of people around after lights out. Lots in fact. If anything the corridors were patrolled more when the sun went down. 

So here you were, breaking in at just after 2pm. Right when Blue would be at lunch and away from his office. 

You crept in, quietly shutting the door behind you and heading for his desk. 

It wasn’t as much of a cluttered mess as you’d expected, a small mercy, but it was still a state. You sighed a little and then began to rummage through the files, keeping them as close to where they had been as you could. 

There had to be some clue here, some scrap of paper that told you where Lilly was. 

She had been taken to solitary three days ago. Solitary was empty. 

You had been searching for around ten minutes, finding nothing to aid you directly, but a few minor things that you committed to memory, such as the main access override code. 

There was a sound outside, footsteps, unmistakably Blue.

What. The. Fuck. 

You glanced at the clock: 2:11pm. He should still be at lunch, you should have plenty of time. The one fucking day that he doesn’t follow his schedule to the fucking second. 

Panic froze your limbs, squeezing them in a vice like grip that made you dizzy and nauseous. If he caught you… you end up dead. Or worse. 

You look desperately around the room for somewhere to hide. 

The outside of Blue reaches the frosted glass of the office door. 

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

There was a muffled voice, someone speaking. 

“Do I look like I care about your incompetence?” Blue’s voice cut over it. 

Oh good, not only was there another person but Blue was pissed off too. 

Swell. 

Lacking any other viable option, you dived under the desk, pushing yourself back as far as you could and pulling the chair back into its correct place as you went. 

The door clicked open the second you were out of sight, your heart in your mouth. You tried your best to stay quiet, to breathe as carefully and gently as you could even though it still sounded thunderous in your ears. 

“Sir,” you recognised the voice, Kevin, a slimy man that personally you would quite like to see castrated, “there has to be something that-”

“Sit the fuck down.” Blue marched over to the desk, pulled out the chair and sat. 

Narrowly you managed to avoid a knee to the face, and pushed yourself even further back. 

“I am so sorry that-”

“Do I have to repeat myself?” 

You couldn’t help a small smile. There was an undeniable glee in the fact that Kevin was the one in trouble. 

As you listened to Blue verbally punch him in the gut, you discovered the reason why Blue was back so early from lunch.

There had been a fight in the cafeteria. You didn’t know the patients involved personally, barely on a first name basis. Apparently Kevin had handled the situation badly. Very badly. Another orderly was in the infirmary. 

You could hear the shake in Kevin’s voice, even as he grew quieter and quieter in the face of Blue’s rage. 

There was one horrible moment when Blue shifted in his seat, stretching his leg out, his foot caught your thigh for a second. Time stretched. But Blue didn’t even falter in his admonishments. And you thanked whatever god’s that were looking out for you.

Finally, when it seemed like the head orderly had had enough of voicing his displeasure he stood and walked with Kevin as the latter left his office. “One more mistake like this and it’ll be your last, understand?” The underlying threat in his voice was like ice down your back, despite the fact it wasn’t directed at you. 

“Yes, yes sir, thank you, I won’t, yes sir.” Kevin tripped over every word in his haste to get out of Blue’s sight. 

There was a thud and click as the door shut. Blue let out a sigh of frustration. 

The sound of the clock on the wall ticked in its even pace. 

Surely he’d go and complete his lunch break, or maybe head outside for a smoke. 

Just a little longer, the finish line was in sight, you could-

“You can come out now honey.”

For a second you didn’t feel anything, no panic, no fear. Just blissful nothing. 

And then everything came crashing down. 

Blue’s shoes clicked as he walked over to the desk. 

You were going to be sick. You were going to pass out. Your heart was beating so fast that the vein in your neck was going to burst and you’d die from internal bleeding.

Blue pulled the chair back and poked his head under the desk to smile at you. The expression would be sweet on anyone else. 

He offered his hand. 

You looked at it and then to his face.

A rabbit caught in a snare about to be skinned alive by the hunter. 

“Are you going to be civil, or do I need to drag you out?” He asked calmly. 

You took his hand. 

His smile widened. 

Surprisingly he helped you up, one hand holding yours and the other on your upper arm, making sure you didn’t bang your head on the desk edge. 

He lets go of your hand, but not your arm and holds you close.

“To what do I owe the pleasure honey?”

Oh you didn’t like that, didn’t like that at all. The way he said it, the way his lips moved around the word, the small flash of his tongue between his teeth as he elongated it, dragged it out to be far longer than it needed to be. 

You swallowed, your throat dry. “How did…” you whispered.

“How did I know you were there?” Blue finished for you, as calmly as if he was asking you what you wanted for breakfast.

You nodded once, eyes wide. Afraid that the second you blinked he would lunge for you. 

He smiled sweetly. “My office door was unlocked.” 

Your stomach drops. “You knew the whole time?” 

His smile widens and he nods twice. “Did you enjoy Kevin getting his verbal beating?” 

“I…”

“I know he’s not a favourite amongst your lot.” He watched you carefully as he spoke, seemingly reading your mind from every micro action you made. “Though I don’t think he’s personally upset you, has he?” 

You stared at him, trying and failing to hide the shake in your limbs.

Blue reaches out with his free hand and slowly takes hold of your jaw. His touch is soft, light, but there’s a ridgedness to his grip, a threat of pain. “Has he?” Blue whispered.

“No.” You shake your head as much as he lets you. 

He smiles again, the expression gleaming against the sharp edge of cruelty in his eyes. “Good.” 

Slowly he lets go of your jaw to trace your right eyebrow with his warm fingers. The touch is firm, unforgiving, as he slides down your cheek. 

“Do you know why?”

You frown, shaking your head. 

“Do you know why he doesn’t bother you as much?” He pauses, waiting.

“I try to stay out of his way.” You whisper.

“No,” he lengthens the word a little, adding a slight musical bounce. “Try again.” 

“I…” you search his eyes for any sign, any hint of what the correct answer might be. Any way that you could side step his wrath. 

His fingers start to slide down to your neck. 

“I don’t.” You mutter, there are tears building in your eyes. You try to push them back. 

Blue grins. “Silly thing.” He takes his fingers away from your skin for a moment to tap the tip of your nose with his forefinger. 

You blink heavily, his firm grip on your arm stopping you from taking a step back in surprise. 

He moves forwards, forcing you around until the back of your thighs hit the edge of his desk and leans closer. “Can’t think of one, tiny reason?” He breathes, so close to you that your lips are almost touching. His left hand rests against the table behind you, caging you in.

“Blue-”

“What were you doing in here?” His eyes are still playful but his tone shifts, completely dropping the smooth seductive tones for something much colder. 

You swallow, and take a millisecond too long to answer. 

You see the change the instant it happens, playful Blue turning into a supernova. He was going to kill you, eat you alive and pick his teeth with the bones. 

Dread swelled up like an infection, blinding you to rational thought and you did the only thing that came to mind, the only action that could provide some semblance of a distraction to his anger.

You kissed him. 

It was panicked and off, your nose bumping into his, but he freezes when your lips touch. A short intake of breath escaping his lungs.

You pull back, your mind finally catching up with your actions.

"Oh honey," he purrs, "do you think kissing me will get you out of trouble?" 

You shake your head, eyes closed as tightly as you can.

Blue chuckles lightly and tilts your chin up with the tip of his finger, you move quickly as if his touch were burning.

"Open your eyes." A more foolish person would say he sounded kind.

He wipes a tear from your cheek as you do what he says. 

"I'll tell you why," he speaks softly, gently trying to lull you into security, "he doesn't bother you. Hmm?" He raises his eyebrows. "Do you want to know?" 

You nod just because you know it's the answer he wants. 

Blue leans closer, so that his lips just touch the shell of your ear. "He doesn't bother you," he traces his fingers along your jaw again, turning your face closer to his. "Because only I get to bother you. Only I get to touch you," he places a soft kiss on your cheek, "and kiss you. Only me. Understand?"

You frown slightly, it didn’t make sense. Your interactions with Blue had always been to the minimum, you did your best to stay out of his way.

You’d heard stories though, accounts of what he could be like when he was near his worst. Those were enough to make you tiptoe around him. 

Then the longer you thought about it… the orderlies didn’t bother you like they bothered everyone else, even when you should have been directly in their war path. You had assumed it was because you were quiet, trying to be careful around them, tried not to be the centre of their attention. 

You had nearly been caught outside of your room after lights out once or twice. On one specific occasion you had been sure that you were going to be spotted, that you’d been seen, but it was as if the orderly on patrol had just missed you, had turned down another corridor at the last second. 

What if they had seen you? What if they had been told you were off limits to even shout at? That wasn’t, that couldn’t be…

Blue kisses your cheek again, pressing his chest to yours. The action is soft, pleasant almost. 

“So what are you doing in here honey?” He whispers against your skin. “And how did you get in?” He leans back slightly and bites his plump bottom lip. 

He searches your face for a moment before he continues. “Either you, or someone else stole a key, or you picked the lock, or… ah,” he smiles, perfectly reading your expression even though you were sure you stayed neutral. “We have a lock picker in our midst.” 

You swallow, the nervous gulp clicked loudly in your throat.

“I’m going to ask you one last time, why are you here?” 

“Lilly.” You whisper. 

“Ah.” Blue smiles and nods as if all the pieces were just falling together in his mind. “Of course, she’s a friend of yours isn’t she?” 

You nod. “Where is she?” 

Blue continues to smile and says nothing. 

“They said she was in solitary.”

“Who did?” He asks playfully.

“But solitary is empty.”

“How do you know?” He tilts his head to the side, grinning like this was his favourite game. 

“Blue…” You search his face for a second, oh every move you could make seemed like a very, very bad idea. “Please.” 

‘Please.’ He mouths the word back at you, delighted. “You want a favour?” 

You look down and he tuts. Quickly you look back at him. “Yes.”

“Oh, I don’t do favours honey, not with people I hardly know.” He lightly skimmed his hand along your hip. “But I can do a deal.”

“A deal?” 

“Hmm.” He stares at you, waiting for your next move, willing you to ask.

“What do you want?” 

Blue grins wickedly. The cat that got the cream. “An orgasm.” 

Of course. 

You clench your jaw, and nod, once. 

Of course that’s what he wanted. 

You don’t let yourself think about it, just move as if you're on autopilot. You step forward, beginning to drop to your knees but Blue’s grip on your bicep tightens, halting your action. 

You stare up at him confused. 

“Oh honey, I love the enthusiasm but the orgasm I want is yours.”

He doesn’t give you a second to process his words as he grabs hold of your thighs and lifts you onto the desk unceremoniously. 

The suddenness of the action jolts you and you nearly fall completely back onto the papers and files. You grab hold of the edge to stop yourself. 

Blue chuckles at the sharp escape of air from your lungs and kisses you hungrily, sliding his tongue into your mouth and moaning happily. 

He keeps a firm hold of your thighs, spreading them wide and positioning himself perfectly between him. Not leaving an inch of space between your bodies as he grinds up against you. 

You gasp into his mouth, his kisses are an onslaught, demanding. Storm waves crashing onto you and the only way you can stop yourself from drowning is to kiss back, to match his energy with your own. 

You bite his lip and he growls when you push up against him, when you grab his shoulders and dig your nails in for stability. 

He breaks the kiss only to latch onto your neck, licking and sucking and worrying the skin between his teeth.

You bite your lips together, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan, of letting him know you enjoyed anything he did. 

But the action was in vain, the way your breathing changed, how to pressed yourself further into his touch, leaning your head to the side so that he could gain better access, told him everything he needed to know. 

He licked a stripe up your neck, nipping lightly at your earlobe before planting a quick, wet kiss against your lips. 

Then he dropped to his knees. The action was so quick it took your mind a second to catch up with it. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Blue hooked his fingers under your waistband and pulled down your trousers and panties in one quick stroke. The force nearly knocks you over and you jump to your feet to avoid falling.

You swore under your breath, just managing to stay upright. 

Blue tutted and pushed your hip, forcing you to sit back on his desk. Then yanked your clothes off your feet and threw them to the side of the room, quickly repeating the action with your asylum issued slippers. He left your socks on.

Instinctively you moved to close your legs, but Blue situated himself quickly between them so that your knees just brushed the outside of his shoulders. 

He tutted again and placed one warm hand on your left inner thigh and pressed. You jolted at the light touch and he smiled as he spread your further open. 

Your muscles clenched as you squirmed under his gaze, fighting the urge to cover yourself. 

Blue gazed at your cunt, seemingly committing every part of it to memory. 

The cool air of his office left goosebumps along your skin and you shivered.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He whispered before slowly dragging the tip of his forefinger through your folds. 

Your toes curled, your hips instinctively bucked towards the touch as Blue continued to stare, mesmerised. His lips slightly parted. 

He let out a soft low moan as he teased your opening, unhurriedly sinking his finger further inside to his middle knuckle before easing it out. 

Blue licks his bottom lip at the feel and sight of your wetness coating his skin. He repeats the action again, and again, and again. Always light, alway teasing, not enough pressure or pushing far enough in to do anything but rile you up. Never enough to give anything resembling relief. 

The sound of your wetness echoed around the room with every slow push and pull. Embarrassment burned along your skin, you shouldn’t be enjoying this, shouldn’t be craving him to go further. 

You whimpered, trying to keep the sound internal to save some semblance of your self worth. 

Blue didn’t look up, but he did slip his middle finger inside you to join the other in the slow tortuous glide and twist. 

You couldn’t help but sigh in relief, it still wasn’t enough but at least it was something-

At the sound of your sigh he pushed in further, finally sheathing his fingers completely in your wet heat and curling them upwards to stroke your trembling walls.. 

“Blue!” You gasp, your voice so high pitched and whiney, so desperate for him. 

“That’s it honey,” he muttered, diving forward and kissing your clit. “That’s it.” 

You moaned, the sound catching in your throat and he groaned in response, his eyes rolling back as he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

He hummed against you, the vibrations sending shivers along your skin. “Taste so good honey.” He muttered before quickly returning to his previous actions. 

You couldn’t stop the little noises of pleasure cascading out of your mouth now, growing louder with every swipe of his tongue and caress of his fingers. 

His name fell out of your lips repeatedly, muffled and whispered but crystal clear to Blue’s ears.

The wet sound of his fingers continuously rang out as your slick began to drip down to his wrist and pool on the desk underneath you. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” he muttered as you grabbed hold of the back of his head with your left hand, your hips rising forward to meet his tongue and fingers, to push them deeper, harder. 

“Blue, I, oh god,” pleasure was curling so tightly in your belly, starting to send little spikes along your muscles. “Please!” 

Your sharp cry cut off whatever you were going to say next as bliss flooded your veins, overriding any other thought. 

Blue’s left hand squeezed your thigh as he continued to lick and suck and curl his fingers throughout your orgasm, trying to prolong it as much as he could. 

You came down slowly, breathing hard. 

At first you thought you’d have to tell him to stop, if he would even listen you to that is, but seemingly instinctively he slowed his movements and carefully pulled his fingers from you as he gave one last kiss to your centre. 

“Thank you.” He muttered, his voice almost inaudible. He stayed on his knees, looking down. Your cum shining on the bottom half of his face. 

He seemed so… soft like this. Behaved and, there was flutter in your core. You wanted him to… you wanted to…

You wanted him.

You leant down, your legs still shaky and tilted his head up. He stared at you with wide, confused eyes for a moment before you kissed him ravenously. This time forcing your tongue into his mouth before he had a chance to react. 

He moaned loudly, his lips moving against yours as you licked into his mouth, tasting your release and scrapping your nails along the back of his head. 

Blue sat up straighter, raising up on his knees and grabbing hold of you everywhere, anywhere he could touch to hold you closer. He whined into your kiss, heat rising to his skin as you lavished attention on him. 

“You don’t have to do this honey,” he gasped between kisses, “you did your part of the deal, I’ll-”

“Get on the chair.” You growled, biting his lower lip. 

He whimpered, soft and low in his throat as you pulled back and quickly did as you commanded. Sitting on his chair hastily and lacking grace. 

You took the smallest moment to enjoy the view. His kiss swollen lips and flushed skin, how needy he looked, the light pinch in his forehead, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing, how desperate he was. 

With a little hop down from the desk you approached him, pulling off your top and bra and dropping them to the floor. 

His eyes raked over your body, now completely bare for him. For a moment he was seemingly hypnotised by the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hip and reached out for you, running his hands comfortingly over your skin. 

You kissed him again needily, demanding his submission as you pushed him further into the chair. He fell back happily. 

“Up.” You took hold of the elastic waistband of his scrubs and taped his waist. 

He lifted his hips quickly, gazing at you in awe as you pulled them down to his knees. 

His cock sprang free, bobbing against his stomach. Blue seemingly wasn’t a man for underwear. 

He was long and thick, weeping from need. The urge to lean down and run your tongue along the length of him, to trace the large vein that ran up his shaft and taste the precome pooling at his tip was almost overwhelming. 

Blue stayed still, his heart echoing in his cock, making it jump with every beat. He watched you, his hands balled tense against the arm rests as he let you admire him. 

You breathed in deeply and he swallowed, an audible click. 

“Such a pretty cock,” you whispered and Blue moaned needily. 

You quickly put your left knee on the chair, just outside of his thigh, and kept your right foot on the ground as you took his length in your hand and slowly guided it inside of yourself. 

Blue let out a long cry of pleasure as you languidly sank down on him. His thighs shook with microtremors as he tensed them, forcing himself to stay still and not buck up into your sweet heat. 

You took your time, half teasing him and half out of necessity. Despite your previous orgasm and your abundant wetness, it had been a while since you’d been this intimate with anyone. 

The stretch was significant, but delicious. 

Finally, your hips met his as he filled you completely, a sigh escaping both of your lips. Instively Blue put his hands on your waist, his touch was light, careful. Just hovering over your skin. 

Experimentally you rocked against him, clenching down when the tip of him brushed wonderfully deep.

He threw his head forwards and moaned deeply, his hands tightening. 

“That’s it,” you teased and Blue bit back a sob of pleasure as you repeated the movement. 

You took hold of the back of the chair with one hand for better leverage, the leather groaning under the force of your grip and rocked back and forth again. This time just raising your hips ever so slightly before dropping them back down the length of him. 

Blue moaned, “honey,” rolling his head back to rest against the chair and trying to open his eyes, not wanting to miss a single second. 

Your walls clenched against him at the pet name, a fresh wave of wetness leaking down his cock and dripping between his balls. 

“Honey, please,” he pleaded. 

Never in your life did you ever think you’d hear Blue Jones beg. 

“Please, please, feels so good,” he bit his lip. 

“Yeah?” You quickened your pase, lifting yourself off him slightly higher than before. 

“Yes, yes, you’re so wet honey, and, oh fuck!” He sobbed

“And what Blue?” 

“Everytime I say honey you, god, you grip me so tight… like a fucking vice honey, ah!” His hips bucked upwards, moving of their own volition.

“Better keep calling me honey then.” You bit back a moan and started to move faster, bouncing on his cock and sobbing as he kept hitting so wonderfully deep. Pleasure began to build along your nerves, no longer allowing you to go slow and teasingly.

You began to chase the sensation desperately, needing to cum again. 

“Honey, yes, yes, oh god yes, that’s it, please!” He was so close, building to that perfect crescendo. He took his right hand from your hip and began to rub your clit with his thumb, needing to see you cum once more. 

“Blue!” You whine, your thrusts getting sloppy. 

“Yes, yes, honey,” he rubbed your clit faster, grabbing your hip tighter with his left and and planting his feet firmly on the floor so he could fuck you properally. “Just a little more, just a little bit more.” 

You cried out as you came so hard you nearly blacked out. 

Blue groaned, grunting as your walls squeezed him as he bucked into you. He held you tightly, working you through your orgasm and burying his face into your chest, littering you with kisses as he rutted into you like an animal in heat. 

He came with a loud moan, your nipple in his mouth, as he pumped you full of his hot, thick cum. 

Your breathing started to slow, sweat cooling on your skin. 

You expected Blue to push you off him now that he’d finished, or maybe take hold of your throat. 

Instead he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he snuggled into your chest. 

“You’re so perfect honey, yo-ohshit!” He moaned as your walls fluttered again at the pet name, sending a last shiver of pleasure along his nerves. You body seemingly instant on getting him to spill every last drop inside you. 

You move back, thinking you’d hurt him. But he continues to hug you close. 

“It’s okay, you just,” he chuckles softly against your chest. “Still squeezing me when I call you… that.”

You bite your lip, running your left hand through his hair. “What?” You tease, a small smile on your face.

He looks up at you, all doe eyes. “Honey.”

You clench around him, having seemingly no say in the matter. Blue bites his lip, ready for it this time and revels in the sensation. 

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 

The question would have been almost funny, considering what you’d just done together, but the soft, needy look he gives you makes it anything but. 

Your heart melts and you nod as you lean down and kiss him. 

His lips are gentle this time, sanguine and slow as he cups your cheek with his right hand. 

He’s the one that collects your clothes and helps you dress, placing kisses on every inch of your skin before he covers it up again. 

You don’t say another word to each other, but he kisses you knuckles, your palms and then lips before you go. 

You tell the others about what happened up to a point. The fictional you stayed hidden under Blue’s desk until he left, stayed undiscovered. You say you didn’t find anything helpful in his office. 

The next morning Lilly is in the cafeteria. She had been held in the upper levels, apparently there was another solitary there. Darker and colder. As she regails you all with her story you catch Blue’s eyes across the room. 

Neither of you do anything save stare, but it’s like a silent conversation flows through you both. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-buttt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#blue jones #sucker punch #blue jones x reader #x reader #blue jones x you #x you #blue jones x female reader #x female reader #blue jones x f!reader #x f!reader #blue jones x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[lelliefant]

If you want to know why the Loki fandom has drifted away, just look at what Disney/Marvel did to him.

He was incredibly powerful—they made him weak and helpless.

He was smarter than everyone else—they made him a fool.

He was a prince—they made him a corporate office drone. They literally put him in a cubicle.

Loki was an alien—they made him an ordinary guy.

He was flamboyant and colorful—they put him in beige. They actually made him act as if he was excited to wear a beige uniform.

The real Loki would never have tolerated a uniform of any sort, much less something so bland. He was never a soldier or a cog in the wheel. Loki is the piston.

Loki was a deeply wounded, angst-driven son with complex motivations—Disney made him an uncaring narcissist who suddenly sees the error of his ways (in one episode) and has a total personality swipe.

Loki was iconoclastic—they made him ordinary.

They took the most interesting and volatile character in the MCU and warped him into an Everyman role, and somehow everyone bought it. Apparently because they used the same actor with the same face—?

Really think about it. If another actor had started playing Loki for the series, they couldn’t have pulled it off. Series Loki is not the same character as Loki from Thor 1, Avengers 1, and Thor 2. He’s as different as the moviemakers in charge of the productions are. (The directors of Avengers 1 and Thor 2, Joss Whedon and Alan Taylor, simply had the grace and humility to take their cue from the original vision of Kenneth Branagh.)

If you don’t actually pay attention to Loki’s character, motivations, logical action, or his history, and you’re only interested in being entertained, I guess it doesn’t matter. This is just a superhero movie character, so who cares if they turned him inside out to conform with a simpler, less challenging archetype?

He’s their property, after all. They can use him however they want to. If they want to chew him up and spit him out as a naive, lovelorn mensch because that’s the Disney protagonist formula, they can and will. If they want to put him into a buddy-cop procedural, as if he were an ordinary human person whose shtick is a magic kit, they can.

A lot of you who are constantly defending the Loki Series are not really thinking about it. Maybe you’re just happy he has a show to his name. Maybe you don’t care; you just want more “content.” Maybe you don’t want someone spoiling your fun.

Maybe you think you’re being the loyal crowd by “defending” Loki. You’re not seeing that Disney did worse than kill him off—they unmade him. They put the God of Mischief into a blender with the Disney formula, audience response data, standard storytelling tropes, a limited range of plot lines, and a great deal of money, and out came this golem with Loki’s face on it.

You might revile me for saying all this because that’s easier than facing the truth or questioning the Powers That Be. There will always be people who can’t tolerate having their beliefs challenged.

I have seen nastiness on this hellsite toward people who question and protest what the majority accepts—but that’s just a reflection of the real world. It’s never going to work out well for those of us who see things differently and who don’t shut up about it. So, why do we keep annoying everyone with our dissenting opinions?

In my case it’s because I actually do care about Loki. I care enough to tell the unpopular truth, as I see it. Because, to me, Loki isn’t just an MCU character. He is representation.

He was a survivor of abuse and scapegoating by his own family. He was an outsider who defied convention and took on great challenges, despite everyone in his world trying to push him down. He shirked the role he was forced to play and chose to define himself instead. He saw the hate and scorn directed at him from all sides and laughed.

He struck out on his own into the unknown—which is incredibly hard to do, even if you had been given the support to believe in yourself.

The Loki Series did get one thing right: Loki is a survivor. He’s survived misinterpretations before, and he will survive Disneyfication. Maybe the public will tolerate a warped mischaracterization of him for a while before they lose interest, but the God of Mischief prevails. Thor1 Loki will always be there, smirking triumphantly from the shadows.

#loki #tom hiddleston #disney+ marvel #MCU #Disneyfication #actually loki #loki deserved better #loki deserves better #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #thor #avengers #kenneth branagh #alan taylor #joss whedon #anti loki series #anti disney

[curiousquirks]

Day 14 | Dabi x F!Reader (18+)

Sex Pollen | Begging

Content Warnings: Sex Pollen, Quirk Misuse, AFAB Reader, Dubious Consent/Somewhat Non-Con, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Unsafe Sex, Oral (Female Receiving), Pet Names Used (Sweetheart), Dabi burning fingers digging into your skin, Overstimulation, Bullshitted my way through a quirk for plot

Word Count: 3,094

Summary:

You were important to the Meta Liberation and finally got brought into the Paranormal Liberation Front. This brought you face to face with Dabi, who grabbed your attention. You intrigued him as well and with the help of your quirk, he’d be yours in no time.

Reader has a quirk: Small colorful flowers in your hair that produce a puff of odorless power that make the target have an amplified sexual desire towards the user. The more the target views the user in such a way without aid of the quirk the stronger the desire gets.

The day’s tasks stretched on more than it needed to, and yet things kept happening adding to Dabi’s growing frustrations. Making it worse currently was being dragged into a meeting. Again. Normally he wouldn’t even bother but it’s like Skeptic always knew how to include things that piqued his interests. He’d have to give him credit for that at least. Once he got the information he needed, Dabi had no issues getting up and leaving in the middle of the Paranormal Liberation’s briefing. He’d already been tuning out most of the discussion for the past few minutes anyways.

“Dabi, don’t you want to hear about—” Mr. Compress began, looking up towards him from his tablet. 

“Not interested.” Dabi interrupted, swinging open the door and only pausing when he saw you standing outside the door. Small colorful flowers were animated and littered throughout your hair. He eyed you curiously as he let his foot hold the door open. “What do we have here?”

He heard ReDestro clear his throat from the table behind him. “You can come in now.” Skeptic had called towards you, and your eyes lingered on Dabi’s for only a moment more before you had made your way into the room. 

Dabi’s eyes lingered on you as you passed him, everyone going back to what they were apparently originally talking about. You were a member of the Liberation Army who they valued and would be a vital member of the Paranormal Liberation Front. Dabi kept that in the back of his mind as he continued on his way out. He’d find out more about you later, especially since he wanted to know more about why you were so valuable but he couldn’t care enough to know now.

A few days passed, Dabi having spent his spare time working on personal projects that you hadn’t crossed his mind. That was until he saw you across the way one day in the villa. His mind lingered on you for a while that day, being genuinely surprised when you popped up on the same side of the villa again. You were walking towards him, and kept this intense eye contact with him. It piqued his interest, it made him want to know more about you. Nowadays that was a hard thing to do.

You smiled as you got closer, making a beeline towards him. He made no motion to stop walking, so you instead decided to just walk beside him. “Fancy seeing you again, especially since it seems hard for people to get ahold of you.” You said, glancing towards him. 

“Skeptic tell you that?” He asked, not really wanting an answer. “I know that’s not true because he sure as hell knows how to bother me.” 

“Everyone says that you aren’t really in many meetings, seem to be doing your own thing.” You said. “I can admire focusing on your own thing, it must be important.” Your interest was focused intensely on him.  He noticed.

“If you’re trying to get information from me to give back to the Liberation, I’m pretty sure those freaks know enough.” He said, turning a corner. 

“I was just trying to get to know you.” You explained, letting your quirk subtly activate. A small puff of odorless powder floating into the air from the flowers in your hair.  “Your whole mysterious aloof personality made me curious.” 

“Cut your losses and leave me alone, sweetheart. I’m not about to tell you anything.” He said, part of his mind not really meaning it. 

“I’m sure you have something that you want to share with me.” You teased, knowing it wouldn’t take long for him to take the bait. 

He thought your perfume smelled really nice. The scent was light, not too strong. He slowed his steps to be more in sync with yours. “Why should I do that?” He asked. “Why are you suddenly so interested in me? They certainly took their time dragging you into the fold, despite how long we’ve been set up here.”

“I could be more direct but where’s the fun in that.” You said, taking note of where you were in the villa. It was working. “I’m not doing this for any nefarious reasons, you just caught my eye.”

“Considering that doesn’t happen with me, unless someone wants something, I find that excuse to be bullshit.” He said, feeling his body heating up. He tried brushing it off. “Knock it off and stop beating around the bush.”

“I’m serious, Dabi.” You explained, lying through your teeth. His name falling from your lips was really getting him going. “You caught my eye.”

You were really pissing him off. The back and forth banter was a turn on, but your lying was doing nothing but angering him. He hadn’t noticed that you had been guiding him through the villa at all, until you were both steps away from the main meeting room. He paused and took a second to process that he hadn’t been paying attention to much aside from you until now. The confusion was apparent on his face and you were stifling a laugh. 

“Why are we over here?” He asked, something he actually wanted answered. 

“I was following you.” You lied, moving your way towards the door. You pressed an ear up to the door for a moment. “It doesn’t sound like anyone’s in there–”

He pushed your body up against the door, pinning your arms against your back. His body was warm against yours, his breath fanning against your ear. “What’s your fucking game?” He asked. Your quirk activated again, small puffs of that powder releasing into the air from your flowers. Dabi coughed and tightened his grips on your arms. “What the fuck was that?”

“You’ll find out soon.” You teased, rubbing your ass against his crotch. His cock twitched excitedly in his pants, steam started lifting from his skin as his body started heating up more. “Do you get it now?”

“You’re one fucked up bitch.” He spat, yanking you from the door before shoving you into the room. “All this shit with your quirk just to convince someone to fuck you.” 

“You wanted to, I’m just speeding up the process instead of waiting.” You explained as he shoved you over to the long meeting table. “Not that it matters now.”

“You fucking talk too much.” He said, bending you over the table. His breathing was rough, he was used to his body feeling warm but this was different. He started shedding layers of clothes, tossing them to the side. “Lying to me, leading me over here so you can get fucked in the meeting room huh? Probably some sick fucking fantasy of yours.”

“You hate being in here so much I thought you might want to take your frustrations out on me here.” You said, wiggling your ass at him. 

He didn’t bother taking his pants off, just down enough to free his cock. You had already gotten rid of anything that would obstruct his access to your dripping pussy. You braced yourself just in time before he roughly pushed his cock into you. A moan was ripped from your throat as he wasted no time slamming his hips into yours. Your warm walls were squeezing him and enveloping him in intoxicating bliss. He just couldn’t get enough of your pussy.

He selfishly chased after his own high, not that you minded because you knew he was far from done. His fingers gripped into your hips, blistering heat burning into your flesh as he neared his climax. His cum was so warm as it shot inside of your welcoming pussy, your walls clenching and squeezing every drop out of his cock. 

He pulled out of you, expecting the intense high to leave him. He braced himself against the table next to you, his breathing uneven as he tried to keep ahold of his sanity. “What the fuck is your quirk?” He slowly asked, looking over at you in time to see another odorless powder puff out in front of his face. “What–”

He groaned, his cock twitching violently as he felt an intense desire course through his body. He looked down at his cock in time to see some of your juices dripped off of his cock. His mind was consumed with only you, he’d barely seen anything of your skin but the way your pussy felt wrapped around him was enough to fuel his body. Steam was actively rising from his skin, his body heating up as his thoughts raced.

You were long ahead of him, being the only sane one in the room after all. You pushed yourself from the table, observing him struggling beside you. It made you so wet knowing how much men lost themselves with lust wanting to fuck you. They’d do anything to sink their cocks into you. You took a few steps away from the table, removing the rest of your clothing. This is when Dabi finally paid attention to your movement. His eyes narrowed, intensely watching your movements especially when your hands cupped your breasts. 

“Come here.” You commanded, breathlessly. 

He shoved himself roughly away from the table, moving towards you. You didn’t let him get too  close before you had tripped him, pushing him onto the ground. He grunted as he landed, glaring at you. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asked, moving to push himself off the ground.

You hovered over him, crouching and pushing him back onto the ground. “I had to force you down here because you weren’t about to do it if I asked.” You explained, grinding yourself against his cock. “I wanted to be in control for a minute.” 

“If you wanted to do all the work all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” He said, thrusting his hips up as you continued grinding against him. “Stop fucking around, you’re the one who wanted this.”

“I think you want it more than me.” You teased, deliberately going slower in your movements. Your wet folds dragging agonizingly slowly across his throbbing cock. His hands found your hips, digging into your skin again. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” He said, strong heat burning into your skin. You hissed in pain as you stilled your movements. Your quirk activated again, puffs of smoke filling the air which had Dabi using his strength to flip you over. He hovered over you, leaning really close to your face. “Didn’t really think this through did you?”

Your face was flushed, and your chest was rising and falling rapidly. Your eyes were half-lidded as your lust consumed you. He wasted no more time, pushing his cock into you again. His hips slamming into yours, your body clinging to his. Curses were muttered under his breath as he buried himself as far he could into your pussy with every thrust. The heat consuming your body and how good his cock felt left you nearly breathless. 

“You fuck me so good, your cock is so–mmgn big.” You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist. He had an animalistic pace, rutting himself against you. “Fucking fill me with cum, fill me–yeeess, oh...”

Dabi couldn’t even form words right now, just grunts and groans as your walls sucked him with every thrust. Your voice dragged him closer and closer to the edge, the need to fill up your pussy with so much cum that it spilled out was burning in every fiber of his being. He need to keep going, he was going to spend every waking moment fucking you, bruising every inch of your skin with his fingers as he bend you in every position. It was your own fault though right? Your quirk caused this, you asked for it. You wanted it.

He slammed his hips into you again, his burning hot cum shooting inside of you again. He choked out a groan, his hips staggering thrusts against you as he rode out yet another orgasm. You kept your legs wrapped tightly around him, not wanting him to move. You clenched your walls around his cock, hearing Dabi groan above you. You did again.

“Still desperate for more of my cock, slut?” He asked, getting inches from your face. 

“I think you’re still desperate for my pussy.” You shot back, clenching your walls around his cock. “You can’t get enough of it can you?”

“Smartass little brat aren’t you? Your fucking quirk is…” He trailed off, his cock twitching inside of your intoxicating pussy. He was trying to keep his thoughts straight but it was easier than actually done. Another puff of your quirk activated.

“You’re right, this is my fault. My quirk got you in this state.” You conceded. “Want me to ride you? Give you a little show while you let me take care of you.”

You unwrapped your legs from around his waist, he took the initiative to pull you close to him and roll himself over to lay onto his back. You laughed at the sudden movement, moaning as you adjusted yourself on his lap. His cock was twitching inside of you still, his hips thrusting up into you driving his cock further inside of you. You whined, bracing your hands onto his chest. 

You finally met his wishes by lifting your hips up to start riding him. Your breasts bounced as your body grinded down against him, his attention entirely on you. You whined, locking eyes with him beneath you. He couldn’t handle not being in control, dragging your body towards him as he started thrusting his hips roughly up against you. His cock drilled deep inside of you, hitting your sweet spot in a new angle.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, just like that.” You whined, your body tensing up. “I’m gonna come–-oh please, please, please, please…”

“You like that?” He groaned in your ear. “That’s right fucking beg for it.”

“I wanna come, I wanna come all over your cock.” You moaned, your thighs starting to shake. “Your cock is so deep, you’re fucking me sooo good.” You were so close. “Let me come, please, please–.”

Your orgasm got delayed as his interrupted, more spurts of his hot cum coated inside your pussy. You whined, that tight coil in your core slowly loosening. You felt his arms let go of you, allowing you to sit up. You glared down at him, bracing your hands on his abdomen.

“Don’t look at me like that, you deserve it.” He said, placing an arm over his face. “Selfish bitch.”

“I’m selfish?” You shot back, offended. “You don’t even know how my quirk works! You got to come three times and you couldn’t even let me come one time?”

“Forced me to have sex and now you’re gonna get hung up on me not letting you get off? You did this to yourself.” He said, panting as his body was still heavily affected by your quirk. “Fuck, how long does this shit last.”

“Depends on your attraction, asshole.” You explained, lifting yourself up off of his cock. “So actually you did this to yourself.”

You got most of the way up before you felt his hands on your legs. He dragged your lower body towards his face.. “What are you doing?” You asked as you looked down at him. “Don’t tell me you suddenly feel like giving back because–”

He answers by shoving his head between your legs. The sensation of his insanely warm tongue against your folds had your legs buckling. You collapsed forward, forcing both of you onto the ground. His hands held you in place as his tongue pressed against you like he was trying to make up for mistakes he didn’t even make. You gasped and whimpered as his tongue devoured you. 

You knew you wouldn’t last long. Your juices mixed with his cum were leaking out of your pussy, coating his chin as he lapped at your swollen clit. His tongue against you making wet noises echo through the room almost as loud as your moans.

Your fingers found his hair, gripping it tightly as you grinded against his mouth. “So good–soo good…” You moaned, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. His fingers were digging into your ass now, forcing your body as close to him as possible. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” 

You heard a muffled groan from him, which almost had your vision turning white. You couldn’t think straight, nothing other than pure euphoric pleasure and how good his tongue felt. There was sweat coating your body, just another fluid you were going to be covered in by the end of this. Another string of curses left your mouth, along with promises of anything if you could come.

“I’m so close–so close.” You whimpered, rocking your hips against him as you felt that coil tighten again.

It only took a few more flicks of his tongue before your orgasm slammed into you. You cried out, your hips tightening around his face as you almost collapsed forward. You don’t get much breathing room before Dabi’s tongue starts its assault on your clit again. A noise gets choked out as you squeeze against him. Your body twitches as jolts of pleasure and pain from the stimulation run through your body. You feel his fingers dig into your skin, that searing pain from the heat radiating off of him burns into your skin.

“Stop stop—fuck e-enough!” You cried out, falling on deaf ears as he continued torturing you.

Your body tenses up, whines leave your lips as your fingers dig into his hair. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes, the sensations clouding your every thought. You’re a whimpering mess as every flick of his tongue has you reeling with gasps and cries.

“Please, please stop. Please I c–can’t handle it.” You whined, trying desperately to pull your hips away from his mouth. “Fuck, Dabi STOP!”

You keep leaning forward, curling in on yourself. It gets hard to breathe as your gasps from the pain and pleasure coursing through you consume every thought. You only feel relief after you feel your body falling forward as he finally lets you go. As you catch your breath, collapse against the ground do you finally feel the intense pain from his fingerprints burned into your hips.

Dabi sits up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He looks over his shoulder at you. “You have until I get up and come over there to recover. I didn’t say I’m finished with you yet.” He warned.

#dabi x reader #bnha smut #kinktober 2023 #curiouskinks 2023 #bnha fanfiction #dabi #touya todoroki x reader

[baiwu-jinji]

I highly reccomend reading some of the changes in the revised version, as some arcs became very different there, in particular the Brocade Immortal arc and the Fangxin Guoshi arc, with more context added into LQQ and LW's characters in particular (and also more Hualian moments hehe).

As for QR, the changes on the chapters he first appeared on where, instead of HC making them arrive to QR's lair, LQQ was instead convinced by HC to confront QR... Who was near the royal masouleaum, and in this version anyone considered a "traitor" to Xianle ends up being severely weakened there, and this includes LQQ and XL, which made QR able to chain them, beat XL up and force them to fight eachother basically. Other changes on QR in the revised version include:

-QR working with resentful spirits from Xianle instead of human Xianle rebels and trying to haunt/kill LQQ since the beginning, as well as them killing all of the royals, King included (XL hacked their bodies to pieces to prevent ghost shenanigans from happening and that's where the misconception that he's the culprit began in the revised version). XL later sealed QR for a bit after this too.

-Instead of calming down a little after XL ascended (on XL's request), QR was said to become even worse after that in this version.

-Overall more manic. The idea of his obsession having incestuous undertones probably comes from some lines that were added, like "If you keep looking at me like that, I'll say things I shouldn't.", which are accentuated in the audio drama (which is based off the revised version), but I think your interpretation on this is more likely.

-QR was using a decoy in the masouleaum, but after he was beaten by HC, XL and LQQ, he was too weak, so he convinced a suicidal, alcoholic gambling addict to give him his body... And that man was Guzi's father. Viewing Guzi as a burden at first, he ambushed XL after the lantern festival so he could take care of them.

-No inn scene apparently.

The rest didn't change much as far as I'm concerned. This revised version really makes the whole "XL as QR's subconscious father" subtext more evident to me, from QR constantly calling himself his "little brother", pleading XL to stop HC from beating him in the masouleaum (right after he beat up XL no less), to wanting XL to take care of him and Guzi after he got his new body (and while it may just be my interpretation, I really felt like QR was probably envious of LQQ and his bound with XL too, as explained in a previous ask).

Overall MXTX seemed to make him more unlikable, probably to hammer home the "toxic fan/hater" subtext of his character, but she didn't completely remove his more human elements either, so his character arc is thankfully mostly the same.

Hi! Thank you so much for outlining the changes regarding Qi Rong, and if we all agree that Qi Rong is a stand-in for toxic fans, then it's a little...worrying that MXTX depicts him as even more vicious and unlikable than before, because this would probably mean that her views on toxic fans hasn't softened over the years despite the fact that she has left social media for so long, and the damage and hurt they brought upon her probably still hasn't gone away...

I'm assuming people have heard that MXTX returned to JJWXC yesterday, announcing that she won't be working on the 4th novel she originally planned, but she's not retiring from writing either. In the meantime, TGCF has be unlocked on JJWXC and the revisions to the novel have been updated. I will start reading the revised chapters promptly, and share with you guys any thoughts I have :)

#tgcf #Qi Rong #MXTX

[yan-lorkai]

i've been thinking about something and i thought you should hear it too,

mc is lilith's descendant but they're also a creation of the brothers' hatred for each other. like how lucifer was feeling so much wrath he created satan, the brothers' hate for each other created a curse and gave mc life [let's assume their mother couldn't have a child for the sake of this au-]

so when mc learns this, they try to stay away from the brothers as much as possible. how do you think the broters would react? [btw you're my fav yandere blog, keep up the great work, ily take care of yourself <3]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ A/N: This is certainly interesting, darling. Got me thinking about tons of things that could happen if this was the case. Poor Mc though, they already deal with too much! I hope you enjoy! <3

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ Warning: Yandere content, kidnapping, I think that's it? Let me know if I forgot a tag.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Assuming he didn't know this, Lucifer would feel stunned. Did the hate, agony and all the sadness they have felt for centuries culminate in one being? A being that also carries Lilith's blood? He remembers the first arduous days that followed after the war, he remembers how Satan behaved and screamed, how he felt everything at once without knowing what to do.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And he knows that up to this point, you must have had a pretty rough time growing up, being haunted by memories and events that you didn't see or witness, being tormented by their suffering without knowing what's up with you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You want to pull away and run away when find out about your origins, and honestly he understands. Lucifer understands but he will not allow this to happen. Just as you fixed his family, he and his brothers will help you process and deal with all of this. Even if you're screaming and crying at them, trying to escape them, trying to disappear from their lives. It's all for your own good, he assure you.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Mammon is the most empathetic of the brothers, as well as being the one who spends the most time with you since the beginning of the exchange program. It was clear that he noticed that you had your moments of anger and bitter hatred or long periods of sadness, even without an apparent reason. And he tried to help you the best he could. When the cause of your problem was revealed, Mammon tripled his efforts to help you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You are family and families help each other. Even if your family is hysterical and trying to disappear because of the conflicting feelings they have. Memories can't be erased like that and yes, it's unfortunate that you are made up of all their suffering, but he won't let you get away that easily. So run, scream and fight with him, with them, Mammon will make sure that at the end of the night you are back home.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ For Levi, this is all a bad joke, the plot of a terrible anime. He remembers how he felt during each of the celestial wars, but most of all he remembers the war that caused his downfall. There was so much pain, so much suffering everywhere he looked. Heaven lost its brilliant children, his angel brothers would carry a weight in their hearts and a bitter memory of the events; the first time angels were cast out. As a general, especially after the fall, Levi had no intention of continuing to live anywhere other than the home he was given.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ His room was his safe haven, where he could cry and vent alone. Where he could exist without fear of judgment and the tragedies that haunted him. Knowing that you are the result of all this makes him immensely sad, despite this he doesn't know how to comfort you because everything he knows as comfort may not be enough for you. But he doesn't intend to give up so easily, even if in small steps Levi tries to look for ways to show you that you has no reason to fear, now that you knows about your origin, there's no reason to stay away. On the contrary, this could be worse now.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ It may not seem like it, but he knows exactly what kind of thoughts are running through his head and the heads of his brothers. A general knows how to read his opponent like his own hand and knows that having a focused and calm mind is the key to the situation. He knows that if he joined forces with each of his brothers, you wouldn't stand a chance. You are theirs now and forever.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Satan knows what it's like to exist feeling only one emotion, so he completely understands how conflicted your feelings must be and, while he himself feels conflicted between letting you go to mentally heal and processing everything, he also wants to keep you close.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ However, if you really want to leave then he will go with you and this is non-negotiable. The others are hunting you and only he can take you through shortcuts and open portals, you need him. He is someone who can support you in difficult times and rinse your tears, to cheer you up, get you out of bed and make you forget your problems, like he wished someone had done when he came into existence. Even though a part of him feels really smug for being the one who shares a strong bond with you; being created against your will through a feeling that does not define you.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Asmo didn't even know something like that could be possible, but then again he also didn't know that someone could feel so much anger and literally give birth to a new being. He is surprised, quite surprised by the revelation that you are kind of a creation with Lilith's blood but also with a little bit of his brothers, their feelings and thoughts. And he wants to help, but like Levi he's not sure how to help.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ So instead he spread word for his followers to keep their eyes wide open and if they see someone who reassembles you, then to tell him immediately. You can run away all you want but you can't truly escape him and his brothers, as many eyes are on your back wherever you are.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you're back he is affectionate as usual, kissing your cheeks and wiping your tears as you cry. Yes darling, everything it's too much and you need some time to process all those facts but you are gonna face it this with him and his brothers, you are part of the family after all.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Beel feels sad knowing that you were born surrounded by pain and the terrors of war they all felt, they got better through the years, overcomes their pain and accepted Lilith's passing. There's still some issues they have to fix, but each brother is doing everything they can to found you when you run away. And Beel goes around Devildom with Belphie to search for you on your favorite spots.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He knows it may be painful to be near them right now but Beel can't let you go. He already let Lilith go because he couldn't protect her but he sure can protect you, even if he has to protect you from yourself. When he finds you, Beel throws you into his arms and hurries home, without carrying how you punch and scream at him to let you go.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Belphie knows that instead of thinking how you feel and how bad your life was dealing with their sorrow, it's the first to act. He knows you well, knows how you think, what you feel and how you react to thinks, more times than he should Belphie used to invade your dreams without you noticing just to watch you, to study you. Sometimes to come closer to you, to hold your hands and ask for forgiveness for how wrongdoings. You never remembered though, he didn't want you to remember he could do this.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In all your dreams though you always had a particularly spot that you loved to go and hide when you needed some time alone. He take Beel with him when they go, he knows you're there, he can feel it. And when they find you, Belphie puts you to sleep with his powers. His brothers can comfort you with their words and affections meanwhile he could work with your unconscious.

#yandere lucifer #yandere mammon #yandere levi #yandere satan #yandere asmo #yandere beel #yandere belphie #lucifer x mc #mammon x mc #levi x mc #satan x mc #asmo x mc #beel x mc #belphie x mc #yandere obey me #obey me #lorkai headcanons

[sailorgundam308]

Got pretty annoyed yesterday while discussing the game with a friend (don’t worry, we’re still friends lol). But truly, I got annoyed at, once more, seeing how there are wrong assumptions weaved into the community discourse - things based out of someone’s ass, apparently, that got traction and now are repeated by players as if it’s true. But, of course, if anyone stops 2 seconds to actually pay attention to the game, these ideas prove to be just wrong.

This friend, for example, was mentioning how Astarion and Karlach NEVER agree or disagree together in anything. That’s a lie. I’ve (me myself, so I KNOW firsthand) been screen shooting every time there’s an agreement between them and when there isn’t. There are much more agreements than disagreements between Astarion and Karlach. They do come across as having different alignments, but they think alike MUCH more than ‘the internet’ (or even some devs?!) tend to believe. They might justify their rationale in different ways but they do agree together and disagree together way more than they disagree with each other. So that is something I personally can attest to.

Then I heard the argument that Karlach and Astarion don’t get unique scenes between each other: again, untrue. The tiefling party scene with Karlach, for starters, is the only unique romance scene for Astarion. The only person who has back and forth with Karlach after the paladins of Tyr are defeated is Astarion. They have (out of the top of my head, at least 4 unique short banters while both are in the party - again, more than Karl with any other companion.

Then the wrong assumption Astarion can’t go to Avernus : he can and he goes, both as ascended and spawn if you’re playing origin Karl. Ascended if you’re playing him.

A lot stems, again, from simplistic and shallow interpretations of both these characters’ story arcs and personalities. Others come from prejudice, from passing judgement on their appearance instead of their “content”.

Moreover, though, there will never be as much this x that content if it’s involving Karlach (and worse for Wyll) SIMPLY BECAUSE there is LESS than A THIRD the amount of content for Karlach in ANYTHING.

For some reason writers/devs took a long while to decide to put the work into Karlach and when they did they clearly made a bet that blew in their faces - that she’d be a lesser origin character and that’d turn out alright. But she’s the second most popular character and because people like her, they are paying attention to her story - and the massive lack of work and resources dedicated to her arc. Imagine if she had received the attention in detail and the game time / in game content, say, shadowheart received? Instead of a temple Shar, we went to Avernus? In place of Shar, ZARIEL made a personal appearance? We could’ve gotten a young Karlach flashback cinematic, an extra dungeon in act 3, then a personal quest closure with Gortash instead of SH’s parents, so we’d know what the fuck happened. As someone who can’t give two shits about SH, that would’ve been incredible to play. Half of that would still have been a blast. But we get nowhere near. And I’m only bringing Karlach to attention here as an example - if you look at Wyll (who was the front page origin boy since the conception of the game), the disparity is even more shocking.

I’ve read on a writer’s twitter a while back (can’t remember who exactly so you’ll have to excuse me), that they were the writers for Durge, and for a time they got to write some stuff for Astarion for a bit, due to some task delegation changes and whatnot, and they explicitly said they “managed to put in things specific to their “main” character (durge) in Astarion’s writing” - or something in those lines. Honestly… what the fuck? Not sure if that was the intention, but to me it sounded like someone with their own precious OC, which they are obviously attached to, pushing content in to benefit their “main”. In a game where there are several “mains” and many with glaringly less content than others. Again, in my interpretation of what I read that day, this information came across as the most unprofessional shit I’ve seen - if you are tasked to write someone else’s character, you should act as that character’s writer - not a fanfic writer trying to push a personal headcanon or narrative because it pleases YOU, in detriment of other characters. It was wild at the time and I just kinda… walked away and pretended I didn’t read it. It was just shocking and not the attitude I expected from a serious professional.

Whether that’s the whole truth or not I can’t say, but what I can say is that this left me with a weird taste in my mouth and perhaps that’s why until today I couldn’t finish a single run with Durge despite trying several. There are other issues with Durge for me personally in term of the actual writing of the sentences and the way they were worded that just seems impossible to take seriously. (But I’m trying to get over it still, as I want to experience this part of the game too, so I won’t give any sort of personal final veredict).

Also, the idea that Durge was supposed to be the main character… that’s a new assumption for me and my friend also brought it up. That sounded very sus and I went to read more about it and, of course, that’s also wrong. In previous BG games, we always played a Bhaalspawn. It would make perfect sense we played one again - but the butler shit, the amnesia, the gore erotic fantasies, that wouldn’t fly for the average BG3 player - and wasn’t supposed to. When they decided to split tav to leave the “absolutely neutral protagonist” they parted with the bhaalspawn narrative that was a very big part of the previous games, so I assume they didn’t want to just toss it, but put it to another “dark tav” or whatever shit that means. And then they doubled down with the evil and edge lord of kitschy horror narrative. It’s FINE. But isn’t supposed to be the main character.

TLDR: instead of taking random assumptions about bg3 as yours, pay attention to the game itself. And think critically about it a bit. All the origins are presented AS equals but they’re nothing but. And Larian should be (yes, troubleshooting tech issues but also) trying to even out the absurd gaps they allowed to happen in integrating the narrative of, especially, Karlach and Wyll into the game. Make more and decent content for them, fix the plot holes, rewrite the shit that doesn’t make sense for them FIRST.

Tbh, I wouldn’t be complaining if Larian had owned it to their content and presented us with Karlach and Wyll as sort of Halsin or Minthara type of companion - non origin, lesser tier of companion. Then the production choices they made would be at the very least justified. And I won’t EVEN start on the fact that these two, Karl and Wyll, are the two PoC origins… the black guy and the southeast Asian woman. Because, oh, boy, things start to look VERY bad when you put THAT into this equation… 👀

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #opinion #karlach #astarion x karlach #karlach x astarion #astarion #bg3 spoilers #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #karlach cliffgate #bg3 analysis #bg3 opinion #bg3 ranting #bg3 durge #bg3 tav #bg3 writing #bg3 narrative #before anyone forgets that #this is my blog and this is my opinion #you can always suck my massive dong #have fun kids

[i-like-turkey]

Kacy fandom, someone has reposted Falling for the Taras on AO3. The original author took it down because they plagiarized me. This person is plagiarizing both the original author—and assuming they post the next chapters— me. Please do not kudos or read the fic. If you choose to do that, then please stop reading my stories and interacting with me. Getting plagiarized almost made me quit writing. Seeing this pop up again is bringing all of those terrible feelings back. Please don’t make it worse.

ETA: Please don’t comment on their other fic. Multiple people have reported it for plagiarism. All that’s left to do is wait for AO3 to act. Bombarding them with comments could cause problems for me cause brigading is bad. So I am NOT calling for that or condoning it.

ETA 2: I thought this would be obvious because FFTT is not the type of fic I’d ever write in a million years (I barely survived high school, willing revisiting it is a giant nope), but apparently not. So to clarify: the initial plagiarism wasn’t the entire fic. It was a specific chapter and then there were a few parts prior to that which subsequently look pretty damn bad once that major line was crossed with the full chapter.

#Kacy #kate x lucy #kacy fic #kate whistler #Lucy Tara

[whoretan]

ARK 45 | 01

Summary: Actions have consequences and when your boss Jimin lets you know you'll be working undercover at ARK 45 for no other than Jeon Jungkook, you feel as though you've gotten yourself into something that will eventually get you killed.

WC: 4.4k

Play me while you read.

Pairing: Club Owner/Mafia!Jungkook, Hitman!Reader

Genre: Dark Romance, Angst and Smut (Eventual)

Chapters: 1 (ur here) | 2

Warning: undercover working as stripper, reader has done some fucked up things and will witness much worse, graphic and explicit themes, trauma is ur new best friend, people will die and there is a lot of betrayal, but at least it'll have some good porn, right?, reader is badass tho

“Do you work here?”

Your eyes lul over from the desktop to a redhead with a face full of freckles. Pretty? Sure. Dumb as hell? Apparently. 

Your eyebrows knit at the question, unsure if she really asked you that, given the fact that you’re sitting at the receptionist's desk. You can’t help the amused tug of your lips when you say, “What does it look like, cupcake?” 

Redhead apparently does not appreciate your question because her nose immediately scrunches as she scowls. With a huff and a roll of her dark brown eyes, she points to the ‘Employee’s Only’ door to your right. Your brows lift and you look behind at the black doors then back to her. 

“Is Jimin in today?” 

Now, you’re intrigued. You plant your chin on your palm, which rests on the surface of the glass desk, and grin, “And how do you know Jimin works here?” 

Her face flashes and the red hue of her cheek instantly pale. Looks like Jimin didn’t give Little Miss Sunshine the notice that she shouldn’t be here without an appointment, asking stupid questions that could get her killed. 

“I-“ 

You cut Redhead off because it looks like she’s about to cry and you’re not in the mood to listen to her whining. Besides, it’s ten in the morning and you clocked in an hour ago for fucks sake. 

Lifting your pointer finger toward Redhead, you grab the receiver to your right and press number one— Jimin’s office. 

It rings once, before a familiar deep voice answers, “I’m listening.” 

“There’s a pretty Redhead standing right in front of me asking to see you, isn’t that interesting?” 

Jimin sighs, mumbles a few explicit words, and finally says, “Bring her to my office.” 

Looks like Redhead does know Jimin.

Your grin grows wider, and when you meet Redhead's gaze she suddenly spins around. You hang up on your Boss with a murmur and by the time you place the phone back into its original spot, Redhead’s gripping the handle to the exit. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

 Your words hold no malice, but the message is there. She will regret walking out now that she’s made her presence known. Now that you’ve seen her face. 

Redhead halts, body unmoving for a solid few seconds before retreating from the glass. When she turns back to face you, her cheeks burn a bright red which matches her hair delightfully. Her lip quirks inward as she sucks on it using her teeth, and you somewhat feel bad. 

Her fuck up will either result in her miraculously walking out of the office, or not. Simple. Once you walk her through the doors, she’s no longer your problem. 

Yet, you can’t help but feel intrigued. Why would a girl like her come here? What made her grow the balls to show up to a place like this alone and unannounced? She knows Jimin, but so do the hundreds of others that flock to his side like insects.

“What’s your name?” The question leaves your lips before you can stop the wandering thought. 

Her gaze lingers on yours, she releases her bottom lip and looks to the carpet. “Miranda Ricci.” 

Instinctively, your finger taps the glass, long nails clicking against the surface at the familiar name. She’s here about Richard Ricci, the man you killed four days ago. An old, sleazy fuck that’d been meddling with Jimin’s shipments in the Terrero Region. The shit-bag had it coming. 

Jimin even had the courtesy of sending you out a month prior as a warning. Senior Ricci had too much pride though, and it was exhilarating draining every ounce of it out of his body.

You wonder if she knows her best friend ratted Daddy out to Jimin. 

Not like she’d ever find about that. 

So, like any good secretary would, you stand from your desk, and motion toward the black door. As Miranda approaches you, you place your hand on the small of her back and lean in, “Don’t say anything that’ll get you killed, darling.” 

She tenses under your hold indicating your message was heard loud and clear. 

“So?” You ask as you push open one of the double doors leading to Jimin’s office. 

About two minutes ago, Redhead ran out of the black door with tears streaming down her freckled face. She didn’t even bother to spare you a glance on her way out. 

Jimin’s sat at his desk with his head bent over the top of his chair. 

He groans.

Someone’s unhappy. But then again, if the daughter of a crime boss you ordered to have murdered came into your office you’d be irritated too. 

“She’ll do it.” 

You plop onto one of the leather couches in the middle of his obnoxiously large office and scarf down the Dunkin Donut’s jelly-filled donut you Uber’d. 

“So what’s the problem?” 

Swallowing down the drier-than-expected donut, you peer over to Jimin who’s lifted his head to look at you. There’s a twinge of concern etched on his pretty face and your stomach flips because when Jimin’s concerned, there’s a fucking problem. 

Jimin’s eyes blaze and he crosses his feet in front of him. “She wants to know who killed her father.”

Well, that could be a potential problem.

You tilt your head and smile, pretending like the statement doesn’t phase you in the slightest. 

“You think she’ll try to have me killed?”

Jimin breaks his gaze, looking over toward his shelves of books. He’s deep in thought, most likely weighing out the options you two have. If it’s worth the potential risk of admitting that his secretary killed her father, or simply lying. Either way, Redhead will convince her brother to get rid of all of the shipments coming from Terrero. 

“I do.” 

You can’t help but glare at Jimin. Even though the answer is expected, hearing the words leave his mouth leaves you grinding your teeth. 

You’d kill the bitch before she even gets the chance to tell her brother who’d murdered their sweet little Daddy, hell— you’ll drop off a letter with every single fucking detail. 

“I need you to spy on them.” 

Your eyes turn to slits, and you bite at the inside of your cheek. Spy on one of the most influential Mob families in New York? They have undercover agents, security, and influence from every fucking corner to alley. It’s like Jimin wants you to die.

“More importantly, on Jungkook.” 

The sound of Jungkook’s name piques your interest. The stepson of Richard Ricci. Jungkook’s biological mother married Richard after immigrating from Korea, who’d given his stepson half of his businesses, letting him run drug transactions disguised in form of clubs. 

The corner of Jimin’s lip tugs upward and you chuckle because he’s challenging you. Pushing you past what could very well be your limits. What might just finally get you killed. 

You lick your lips, tasting the sweetness left over from the donut. You suck on your bottom lip between your teeth, unable to stop the smile from forming on your face. “And how exactly do you want me to do that?” 

Jimin’s mischievous eyes hold yours. You’re not going to like his answer and he knows it.

He runs a fingertip over his bottom lip as he assesses his words, their weight, and how you’ll react. 

“You’ll work at ARK 45.” 

You snort, then puff out a breath, completely baffled, “You want me to work at his strip club?” 

“I need you to,” he says flatly. 

“And if he recognizes my face?” 

He glares at you because the question is stupid and you almost turn away from embarrassment because you’re being irrational.

“No one knows your face, Viper.” 

Your eyes hold his, clenching your jaw, and the air crackles between you both. 

Jimin rarely uses the name, like it’s been forbidden from his tongue. But it reminds you of who you are. Not a receptionist, but a weapon which he yields at will. 

You blink and your Boss’s eyes flash with sympathy, as though you’d gotten yourself into something that will eventually kill you. 

You swallow, tear your gaze away, and walk from the couch without another look back. You don’t want to think about what will come out of this. 

ARK 45 pulses with slow-paced, sensual music. The walls drum with vibration and the street thuds beneath your stilettos with each passing beat. You inhale sharply, taking in the red hue illuminating from the grand windows fifty floors above you. 

“Name?” The bouncer asks, giving you one solid look from head to toe. 

You peer at the man who’s holding a clipboard with what you guess is a list of names. Jungkook doesn’t like strangers entering his territory. He thrives on keeping his enemies under his radar. 

The bouncer wears black-rimmed sunglasses regardless of the fact that it’s well past midnight and the dragon tattoo snaking its way up from his nail into the shadows beneath his shirt convinces you he does more than just play security. He’s attractive even with the grays in his beard and the wrinkles around his mouth that give his age away. 

“Joanna Webb,” you lie, providing him with the name Jimin fabricated for you.

He nods and quickly flips through the pages, skimming down the list of what feels like ten thousand names. He then grabs the pen that's lodged into his ear and presses it between his lips, leaving the cap between the folds. He writes something down and nods towards the two glass doors. 

With a quick thanks, you push past him and head toward the entrance. The two doors are completely transparent, except for the large black handles, the left with a number four and the right with a five. 

The first floor of ARK 45 serves as a receptionist area, and if it wasn’t for the three grand chandeliers that hang from the ceiling that conceal the painted ARK 45 in red bold letters, you’d mistake it for any other lobby of an overpriced hotel. 

The real action comes fifty floors above, where the core of ARK 45 sits. 

The bar turned Strip Club after ten is Jungkook’s main event. What draws people into the ARK 45 is its enticing women and mysterious owner. 

To everyday people, Jeon Jungkook is a young multi-millionaire who built his clubbing empire without using the aid of his Daddy. A single bachelor that has girls from all backgrounds coming to try out for a position at his club, for a single glimpse of him.  

To others— people like you and Jimin— Jungkook is a pest. A menace with a presence too large for the entirety of New York. Killing his father was a pinch in his ass, nothing more. Truthfully, he’s probably happy the fucker is dead. 

Jimin had you kill Richard as a warning to Jungkook. 

Because Jungkook runs the shipments from Terrero, not his father. 

Because Jungkook decided to keep them running even after Jimin warned him not to. 

Jungkook will kill you after he finds out you slaughtered his father. Not because he loved Daddy dearest, but because you ruptured his ego, his pride, and tested his territory. 

He’ll kill you as a warning to others to not fuck with the Jeon name. 

Luckily for you, no one bats an eye at Jimin’s secretary. Which makes your job eerily easier. 

You saunter toward the elevators and press the metal button to your left, it glows red as the elevator hauls down to you. The elevator doors slide open, revealing an empty box with mirrors on all sides. 

Momentarily, you take a good look at the red cocktail dress Jimin had delivered to your apartment. The way it clings to all your curves, hugs your body in the right corners without making it feel like you’re suffocating beneath the cotton. He knows what kind of man Jungkook is, what he likes on women, and what he doesn’t. The attached note of, “Wear this, and nothing else. Love, Jimin” confirmed your assumption. 

The doors begin to slide inward before you’d stepped in and with a quickened step you squeeze past the closing doors and heave a sigh. You glance at the columns of numbers and linger on the ‘P.O’ at the very top, the button to Jungkook’s office. 

Which is most definitely guarded by security. 

Huffing, you press the number fifty and watch it erupt with light. The elevator thuds and then proceeds up. You watch the numbers increase, from one to ten, twenty, thirty, forty, till the elevator dings and the wave of music hits you like a tsunami. 

It’s louder— way louder— than outside and your ears pop as you step out of the elevator. ARK 45 is well known for its exclusivity. The walls are painted a dark brown, and the booths are designed into the walls, making the space feel intimate. The stage is in the center of the room, with a single spotlight shining down on it and an array of diamonds and jewels hanging from threads. Every booth has a girl assigned to it, and VIP has two girls with a separate area on a loft to the corner of the club. Attached to the loft are booths that hang from different areas in the upper walls, giving its special guests a view unlike any other.

It’s packed to the brim with men hungrily eyeing the workers, their exposed breasts, and petite frames. The sensual rhythm pumps through your ears and as you make way through the floor your heels vibrate. It smells like vanilla with a hinge of musk which is predominantly radiating from the men. 

You scope the area, and your eyes fall onto a dip in the wall where the mirror in the walls deflects the booming lights ever so slightly. There are two-way mirrors on the upstairs floor. 

Men like Jungkook need control— crave it, and you can bet your life that his office is located at the very top, overlooking the guests as if he were God. 

Below one of the panels lights pulses a red ‘LADIES ONLY’ sign. 

You make your way through the main floor, avoiding the lingering gazes from the men sitting at the tables which are scattered throughout the floor. The last thing you need right now is to draw attention to yourself, unwanted attention specifically.

Without much thought, you push the door open and are met with girls sitting at vanities fixing their makeup, hair, or outfits. Some are half naked, or entirely, while others wear burlesque type of outfits, big feathers and all. 

Blinking, your eyes adjust to the white light that contrasts the dark red in the main area of the club. You stand there like an idiot, but they pay you no mind, too enticed in the music and the atmosphere of the club to worry about someone entering the dressing room. 

“You’re late.”

You spin and an older woman with brown hair and red lipstick scowls in your direction. 

Here goes nothing.

“I need to speak to Jungkook,” you say.

Her lips purse and she eyes your silhouette before sighing, “You have fifteen before you need to be on the stage.” 

You nod and she points in a direction to the right. With another turn, you walk away and head toward another door. After pushing through, there’s a staircase and two more doors with white letters that read “Showers” and “Lockers”. 

Stairs it is. 

You look over your shoulder and peek through the circular hole before booking it up the stairs. 

Confused, and completely lost you feel a tinge of disgust in your sloppiness. 

You’re not thinking properly. You stormed into the dressing room, lied and now you’re standing at the edge of a door that you don’t even know leads to Jungkook’s office. 

Your hand hovers over the wood, and you’re unsure if you should knock or walk the fuck away.

Jimin sent you to the Lion’s Den and you’re lost for the first time in your life. 

You kill. That’s your job. To kill, mercilessly and selfishly.  Not to play dress-up and dance on a pole for the same men you torture daily. 

You turn away, ready to walk down the stairs and out of the club when you remember Miranda. She’s searching for you, so is Jungkook, and when they find you they’ll end you. They’ll do everything in their power to make sure the Viper hangs from a noose outside of ARK 45. 

Are you willing to risk everything you’ve worked so hard for because the Jeon’s need their ego fed? 

You wipe the perspiration from your forehead. When you look at your hand, you glimpse at the cut beneath your thumb, the one Richard managed before you slit his throat. Your temples pound in sync with your increasing heartbeat.

To hell with Miranda and Jungkook.

With a wicked turn, you gouge at the handles and force the doors open. Swinging in full force as a bull would, you’re prepared to meet the gaze of Jeon Jungkook but you’re met with nothing. 

It’s empty. 

You look around the over-the-top luxurious office. It’s ridiculous, with a 180-degree view of the dance floor, the fucker can see everything happening downstairs. It has a large lounge area with a fully stocked bar and leather stools that line up the front of the conference table area. You even notice a hallway with a private bathroom and an extra door. 

You step forward, nearing the desk by the wall. 

You’ll kill him. 

“What are you doing in my office?”

Your heart thumps against your chest with the speed of light and it almost hurts. Breathe, Jesus fucking Christ breathe. You’re the Viper. You’re used to situations where you’re caught off guard, where you risk your life for the “greater good” as Jimin jokes. 

So why the fuck are you paralyzed?

You turn and you see the Grim Reaper himself. 

The man—undoubtedly Jeon Jungkook is tall, well built, and dark. 

He’s wearing a black suit, perfectly tailored. It compliments the tan accompanying his throat and tattooed hands. His black hair, shorter in the front with longer ends frames the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen.

Jungkook’s dark eyes are narrowed to slits. His straight brows, the small bump to his nose, and the flawless curve of his lips are all enhanced by the metal ring pierced into its corners. 

His eyes roam over you, taking in every detail. But his features remain motionless, and in all your years you’d never seen such coldness in a human face. 

You’re staring at him open-mouthed, frozen in horror as if you hadn’t murdered his father a week ago and enjoyed every fucking second of it. His mere presence has reduced you to a shell of who you truly are. 

It feels like twenty minutes have passed. The silence ticks by, and he cocks an eyebrow up, amused by your reaction.

Finally your voice rasps out, “Job. I’m here for a job.” 

“You’re here for a job?” He questions as if it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever been asked. 

“Is that a problem?” Your voice rises, the edge of hysteria sharp as barded wire. 

He tucks his hands into his pockets and laughs, perfectly straight teeth on full display. His laugh echos tauntingly in your head and your patience hangs on a loose thread. 

“I don’t just hire anyone, sweetheart. My girls are top of the fucking top,” he muses. 

You blink.

“I am the top of the top.” The words are out of your mouth before you could stop them, instantly wishing you could reach out and take them back. 

The last time you danced publicly was ten years or so ago. At a Christmas Recital, your parents forced you to participate in. And the last time you stepped foot into a Strip Club was when you had to lodge a knife between the owner's eyes.

Jungkook takes a small step forward and as if you’re the same poles of a magnet, you take one step back. 

He removes one hand from his pocket and a glint of amusement stirs in his eyes as if you’d just performed a trick that entertained him. Your stomach churns and you can’t stomach the sinking feeling that you did not want to be Jeon Jungkook’s personal entertainment for the night. And an even stronger feeling that you already are. 

Jimin said this would be easy. Walk in, shake your ass a little here and there and you’d get the job. Yet here you are standing a mere foot away from the one man he said to stay away from completely engulfed by his presence. 

“What’s your name, darling?” 

You gulp, and the name Jimin gave you runs in mismatched pairs in your brain. Jocelyn? Jaclyn? Jacky? Think. 

An odd thumping begins in your chest as Jungkook’s gaze falls down onto your body once again. Joan, Joanelle, Joanna. 

Joanna. 

It’s Joanna. 

“Joanna.” The name is foreign on your tongue, but, Jungkook’s face remains emotionless. 

His eyes narrow on your stilettos. “And you think I’d hire you, Joanna?” He drawls the last syllable of the name and his heavy gaze travels upward eventually meeting yours. 

Your eyes burn from the intensity. How can the face of an angel have the eyes of a blackhole? 

 Too afraid to tear away from the darkness pulling you toward him. You nod, slowly.

“Dance for me.”

You stare at him, probably looking dumbfounded as hell. He nods his head toward the chairs beside you. 

“I-“

“You want the job, don’t you? How else would you get it besides impressing me?” A frightening smirk lifts his lips and he approaches you. 

His dress shoes are heavy against the wooden panels of the floor and you’re cemented to the floor. Unable to move an inch. 

You’ll have to dance for him. 

Your heart pounds so loudly you think it’ll rip from your ribcage. 

You don’t even know if you can dance. 

Something caresses your skin and when you stare at the finger, Jungkook’s seated in the chair directly beside you. During your daze, he must’ve turned on the speakers because a Weeknd song you recognize vibrates the room, consuming you. 

Imma care for you, you, you… 

Your eyes fix on Jungkook once more, on his cold, malicious and painfully beautiful face. 

Jungkook’s head cocks to the side and so does a strand of his hair, following the axis of his body with haunting motion. Every instinct in your body is keeping to run away from him, fuck Jimin’s plans and reap his rath as punishment later.

But Jungkook’s hand envelopes your wrist and you swallow the saliva that’s gathered in your mouth and step in front of him. 

You make it look like it’s magic. 

Jungkook’s hand slides from your wrist to the top of the armrest. His dark eyes remained locked with yours and in your life, you’ve never been as frozen as you are right now. It has everything to do with his cold touch, face, and demeanor. This must be what it feels like to have your soul ripped out by the Grim Reaper. 

He’s going to eat you alive. 

Cause I see nobody, nobody but you, you, you… 

Your heart soars with explosive fireworks when Jungkook opens his legs, giving you the access to his lap. 

He’s expecting a lap dance. 

As if noticing your hesitation, he says, “You can always suck my cock.“

Your finger twitches and the unnerving ease in his manner of speech sends your throat into anaphylaxis. 

You have to dance.

I’m never confused. 

You shake your head, and inch into the space between Jungkook’s legs. You’ll kill Jimin for this, rip his balls out and serve them on a platter. Right now though, you have to dance. 

Hey, hey. I’m so used to being used. 

You spin around, because if you have to look into those scorching eyes for another moment you’ll surely pass out. It’s easier facing his desk, facing a blank wall. 

So I love when you call unexpected, cause I hate when the moments expected. 

Using your heels as leverage, you sway your to the rhythm of The Weeknd’s voice. His soft words coursing your ears, guiding you through this torture. 

Your hands find their way to the back of your thighs, grazing the exposed skin ever so slightly before proceeding to your ass. You linger at the shell of your asscheeks, and you use your index fingers to carve out the shape of them. 

 So imma care for you, you, you… 

There’s warmth on your hip, and you try to steady your breath after realizing Jungkook’s using his hands to guide your hips lower and lower. You allow him because rationality is out of the window at this point, you lost it the second you stepped foot into this cell. 

Cause girl you’re perfect, always worth it, and you deserve it, the way you work it.

It’s like your ass collides with a wall. Jungkook’s hard muscles tense beneath you and you grind yourself into him. Into the darkness that’s consuming you from every possible angle.

 The warmth of Jungkook’s body sends shivers down your spine, and the way both of his hands are now gripping your hips, ushering you to glide back and forth on his erect cock. You’re grinding against him, feeling the thick swell of his cock pressed between your clothed ass. 

“Get off,” he growls into your ear.

The trance you’d put yourself in lifts and you blink repeatedly as Jungkook pulls you off his lap. 

When you’re back onto your feet, you spin and Jungkook’s eyes blaze darker than you’d ever seen them. 

He was— is hard. 

What’s the problem? 

The sweet melody of The Weeknd comes to a close and you finally take notice of the remote on the armrest. 

Jungkook stands and there’s no space between you now. His face is inches from yours, bodies so close that his heat and yours radiate in one continuous loop, feeding the tornado brewing. 

He wets his lips, his features dissolving the lust present seconds ago.

“I don’t hire whores.” 

And with those words, he pushes past you and walks the fuck away. 

Next Part.

#jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook bts #bts jungkook #dark romance #bts x you #bts x reader #bts fanfic #slow burn #ark 45 #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook mafia #jungkook gang #wooop woop

[fraudulent-cheese]

I think im actually going to change who wins in my team escope tdwt au?

Originally Noah was going to win and alenoah was gonna be the final 2, but it felt both like a disservice to Heather's character who does have development over the course of the season and it wasn't super compelling to me (she's way more invested in the competition than Noah is + my personal agenda of making Alejandro loose the competition in every single AU i write) + Noah winning just not making for a satisfying ending

Heather in this AU would end up in a similar "previous antagonist becomes antihero due to a bigger vilain popping up" position as she does in canon, but it's combined with her making a genuine friend on the show in Harold; she's shown in the best light she's ever been shown on the show and while a good chunk of the audience is supporting Noah for the finale, she still has a decent crowd of supporters.

It's also my personnal mission to make Alejandro loose in every Total Drama AU i write apparently, and him loosing the tie-breaker is perfect for angst. Also i've seen my fair share of tdwt alenoah rewrites and none of them have included both in the final 3 tie-breaker so it would be fun to explore, with Noah only standing a chance against Alejandro thanks to his dodging ability and wanting to put an end to their endless pining...

It could go two ways - either Noah wins the Tie-Breaker or Alejandro wins the tie-breaker.

Noah at this point in the competition is sure of three things:

Alejandro's a very competitive guy, with a flare for the dramatics

Him and Noah have had been semi-friendly semi-fighting all competition, with it dipping more into a rivalry as of late (the thing keeping him trying after Eva's elimination)

And based on both of these facts:

Alejandro's most likely looking for a dramatic victory over him. Noah's not willing to give him that.

So, mid-spar, Noah's trying to solve this conflict once and for all - Not his brightest idea, but he's joined Total Drama so he's made worse decisions - and opts to be genuine while dodging Alejandro's hits. His earnestness does break through eventually, and confesses to him. They're both standing near the edge of the fighting platform, and are both tired as hell from the previous challenge.

That is the only reason Noah considers as the one behind Alejandro leaning in and kissing him.

After this is where the ending would diverge depending on who ends up in the final two: Alejandro would win by Noah falling into the water right afterwards on his own accord, and Noah would win by tricking Alejandro into falling into the shark infested water.

either making it to the final 2 doesn't change the outcome of Heather winning in the end, but it would change the banter and Helpers; Heather would pick Sierra (who got over Heather booting her back in Paris because she's "a sucker for redemption arcs") and Leshawna (who's friendly with her in this AU) while the boys would pick a combination of the third placer + one of their closest friendship on the show (Courtney and Noah for Alejandro, Alejandro and Izzy for Noah). Heather still ends up in the cage trap and is genuinly pissed at this, but Harold and Leshawna (through the power of friendship) snap her out of it with a similar line as in canon (that she's a better person now and either 1. more deserving of the win for them if she's against Noah or 2. the 'good guy' if she's going against Alejandro) and manages to climb up the volcano.

If Heather's against Noah, she catches up to him due to his garbage athletisism and if it's Alejandro, it's the cast catching onto his distaste of the "Al" nickname and using it against him (probably Owen and Izzy, the latter joining in for shits and giggles). If it's against Noah it'll be a roundabout way of having a friendship finale, it's just the good guy with friends vs the less good guy who's gotten better thanks to friendship and self reflection, and if it's Alejandro and Heather it's just bad guy vs good guy, more like in canon :p they could have a stupid dramatic swordfight with the dummies that Alejandro looses like an idiot and it gets him slipping to the volcano's base (because it would be a funny visual).

The volcano still explodes at the end, but i don't know if i want the "alejandro gets partially burnt" ending or "everyone (but the million dollars) is fine" ending yet. idk

#team escope tdwt au #tdwt #total drama au #this has also been laying dead in my drafts for a while #i have an elimination order i just haven't written shit down #so prepare yourselves for me to bring it back possibly? #i frankensteined two drafts for this #cheese posting #this has been sitting in them for a while too #alenoah #td heather #td noah #td alejandro

[jinxzgoat]

Hi again gamers! So back when I had made my first post I had mentioned I had two other AUs I might post, I had held off on posting them for a while for a number of reasons, but I’ve decided to post one of them now!

This AU was made a few months back with the help of some close friends of mine :>

The reason I hadn’t posted it was again for a few reasons, but mainly because I hadn’t finished all the characters designs, I was missing Mari and Sunny, I’m also not a hundred percent sure if this exists already- I’m sure it dose somewhere which was part of why I wasn’t sure if I should post it, but I’m happy with some of the designs and ideas in it I also believe the storyline itself is interesting and might be different enough to stand out plus my friends helped with the ideas and such, I had a lot of fun making it and brain storming ideas with them! What made me decide to finally post this was I had decided to draw out maris character design // it’s a little obvious 😅// but I love it sm and I’m really happy with how she turned out! all the other designs are quite old, there are a couple I’m happy with overall though. Sadly there isn’t a Sunny, but if you all like this AU I might make him! He’ll likely get two designs just like basil.

Unlike my partyanimal AU this one was definitely more fleshed out 😅 and I’ll explain the story line below! But first here are the designs!! Also before you read though just a heads up, this has spoilers for Omori.

Basically the main concept follows basil. if basil had a headspace, what would it look like? What would everyone look like to basil? What would they do/how would they act? How dose basil view them and how dose that effect this world?

Because it’s basils headspace that also means the roles have switched for sunny and basil, meaning Real world basil never leaves his house, sleeps all day and ignores the knocking at his door. As to why basils name is Hazel is simply because that’s what he names his shears so as a stand in for Omori, he’s called Hazel. (( as for if basil even came out of his house and what would happen beyond that point isn’t known as I had mainly focused on the headspace aspect of this )) // and a quick side note, RW Sunny is basically a nervous wreck sense basil and Sunny simply swap here

His dream world is completely different compared to the original that we all know off, Hazel spends most of his days gardening happily in his own area, were there are beautiful yellow stars in a sky, a gentle breeze against the blue grass, and were he’s surrounded by sunflowers. He’s happy and at peace, a pretty nervous and timid boy but in his area he has nothing to worry about. It’s until he accidentally ventures out after finding something only to find he had gotten lost, until stumbling into Maris Forest. He wonders around until he finds a shadow cat like figure that he decided to follow, and sure enough the cat had led him to Mari, she seemed to be tied up to a tree but she looked unbothered by it, she seemed to be calling out for a boy named Sunny, she had a concerned expression on her face. Quickly the cat had given away Hazels position and Mari notices him. Mari is a sweet and kind girl, and had offered Hazel some tea to chat, She explains that she’s looking for her brother, a boy named Sunny. Apparently they shared this area together but after a sudden argument he had ran off, she assumed he’d be back but after days and days of being alone she was starting to worry yet had no way to look for him. Hazel had quickly warmed up to her sweet and kind nature, and although he wasn’t very fond of being away from his garden he figured it could be worse, after spending quite some time with Mari she had asked if Hazel could go find her brother for her and bring him back. Hazel being nervous and weary of what might be beyond this point wasn’t sure if he should accept, but Maris kind words of encouragement and advice had encouraged him as she had mentioned there was a few friends of Sunny’s he could recruit along the way. So with this new found curiosity Hazel ventures out, Basically Hazel travels around across multiple different areas, everyone gets there own area, Aubrey’s being a water and glitchy bunny infested area, many doors lay around in this area, and if you were to walk in one they teleport you around the space. Kels is a maze of sunset streets, dusty baseball hoops all over the place, it’s surprising but cactuses seemed to be growing around everywhere aswell, it surprised Hazel that they could live/grow in such a climate. Hero’s area has a night sky with twinkling stars, there’s a liquid gold substance that floods the area, random waterfalls lakes and rivers litter the blue colored sand of this area, blue roses litter the area often times floating in the gold. Hazel recruits them all one by one as they all set out on a quest to find there friend Sunny. Though as they all come together to find him, Hazel notices that something once again, and takes notice of black and white Polaroids scattered around, whenever Hazel picks them up he’s taken into a place that’s similar to blackspace.

And ill do a quick run down of all there personalities and descriptions!

Aubrey is a loud and stern girl, she’s pretty fast and often times would get into arguments with Kel. She dislikes his area and calls it “dusty”. She collects photographs and wants to know a deeper meaning for them but she can only see glitch’s in them. Which frustrates her. To recruit her Hazel had to open many doors trying to catch up to her as she’d speed around on her own quest for the pictures.

Kel is kind and optimistic, and he’s definitely more hyper than Aubrey often resulting in them starting arguments as they can’t seem to see eye to eye most of the time. Kel spends most of his days hyped enjoying his time running down his calming streets. Kels quite content in his own area, and to recruit him Hazel had to convince Kel to leave for the sake of Sunny which was definitely a hard task, especially when Aubrey was there. It took a lot of convincing. In the end he makes you battle him in a game of basketball, if Hazel can beat him he’ll join him, which he dose after a few try’s ((Side note: Kel had alot of cuts and bruises from practicing basketball, he doesn’t mind much and thinks of them as “battle scars”))

Hero is extremely sad, Hazel hears of him in this area but can’t seem to find him anywhere, Hero used to be close with his brother Kel, they even shared a space, but his blind sadness made him drift away, hero can’t pin point why he’s so sad. But he tries everything he could possibly think of to make him happy again but he found nothing worked so he sits at the rivers and cry’s instead, as Hazel explores his area he comes across all the things hero tried to make himself happy with, until he finds hero crying. All Hazel needed to do was talk to hero and he recruits him just like that, as hero lost his hope and he had nothing left and decides “why not?” ((side note: after Hazel recruits hero his eyes slowly start to get covered more and more by roses, blinding him as Basil believes hero’s rage would blind him if he had ever found the truth))

#omori #omori aus #digital art #omori au art #omori kel #omori basil #omori art #omori aubrey #omori sunny #omori basil headspace #omori headspace #omori mari #omori hero #omori au

[fullsunrise]

Midnight Dare

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Haechan x Original female character

Minor Characters: Johnny, Mark

Genre: Humor, Romance

Warnings: Sexual themes (very suggestive), mentions of alcohol, Haechan has a big dick (oops)

A/N: Happy New Year! Here's a oneshot I manically wrote after reading a prompt posted here that says "Their friends dare them to kiss a stranger at midnight and they are just tipsy enough to actually do it."

“You know, it's actually really hard having such a fat cock,” He said, letting out a dramatic sigh. A few forced laughs and groans followed.

Tessa wasn't eavesdropping, but it was difficult to ignore him even from across the room. It was at least the third time that night she heard him mention his dick. It had to be on purpose, because he always brought it up the moment she was within hearing radius.

“Does this guy ever shut up,” Tessa said quietly to herself. Taking a swing from the bottle, a sour taste filled her mouth. Either the beer was clearly skunked or her body was having a visceral reaction to the man sitting on the couch a few feet away from her.

“Ah, there you are!”

As she turned her head to the familiar voice from behind her, her heart immediately dropped. She’s rudely greeted with Mark’s shit-eating grin and Johnny’s soft smirk. This pair never sits well with her, and Tessa can feel the beer rise up in her throat. Flashbacks from almost every single party in college came flooding back instantly. With these two, there was never a dull moment. They would always come up with a plan to make the night more interesting. It seemed they’ve never left their scheming ways behind.

“Why do you two look so happy? Finally get laid?”

“Actually, it's you who is going to get laid,” Johnny corrected her.

Operation “get Tessa laid” was apparently well underway, and she knew she couldn't stop them if they’ve already put their minds to it. Maybe it's best to just hear them out, she thought. How crazy would their idea even be?

“And why is that?”

“Cause we have a dare for you,” Mark adds, his smirk never faltering.

Tessa was never one to back down from a good dare. And what was the harm in acting like a bunch of college kids again, for old times sake?

“Hit me,” she replied, tilting the bottle again for another sip. The sour taste was still there. Tessa knew she needed a stronger drink than this to get through the night. She could pretend that she wasn't nervous, but Mark and Johnny didn't need to know.

“Okay so you know “Fat Cock” guy over there, right?” Mark gestured over to the couch, but Tessa didn't need to look. Regret bubbled up in her stomach and she thought her beer might come up any second.

“Unfortunately,” she muttered, waiting for him to get on with it already.

“Well it doesn't look like he's getting much action tonight, so we thought we could help him out,” Johnny continued where Mark left off.

“And where is my part in all of this?"

“At midnight, we dare you to give him a New Year’s kiss,” Johnny said, and she waited for the punchline. But it never comes, because the look on his face is one of sheer determination.

“So are you in?” Mark added, trying to make it come out as a question. But it was more like a command.

Ah, the illusion of free will. Tessa never really had a choice, because one of them always made sure not taking the dare was the worse option.

“Sure,” she said with a smirk, “You know I’m always in.”

Tessa tried to keep her false confidence from showing, worried that they might see right through her ruse. As she glanced at the couch, he was still there. No longer boosting, but instead smirking. As if he knew what was being conjured up right under his nose. She definitely needed another drink.

“That didn't take a lot of convincing,” Johnny noted, trying to bite back a laugh.

He was right, normally Tessa would fight a lot harder than this. But it was just a kiss, nothing more. Harmless.

“It’s the most tame dare you've given me since college,” She reminded him. He didn't respond, but instead simply nodded in acknowledgement. A comfortable lull in the conversation fell, and Tessa took this time to let the dare soak. It was going to be easy. As she started to formulate the plan in her head, Tessa was interrupted when the silence was broken.

“So why are you still standing here?” Mark questioned.

“It's not even close to midnight,” she quipped. “Plus, I’m going to get another drink.”

“You might want to reconsider doing that,” Johnny warned as he quickly checked his phone before clicking it off and shoving it back in his pocket. “It's t-minus two minutes until midnight.”

Only two minutes? Was her sense of time that altered? And how the hell was she going to pull this one off? No introduction, just kiss him and walk away like nothing happened?

“Oh, and let us know if he's lying or not,” Mark said in a tone that definitely was way too serious. Johnny let out a snicker, and her eyes went wide.

“Don't keep your hopes up,” Tessa narrowed her eyes before giving Johnny and Mark a disgusted glance. It was just a dare, but it felt like she was walking into her grave.

There he was, in all his glory. The man, the myth, the legend? He lounged on the couch, his arm draped over the cushions as he analyzed the crowd. Thankfully no one was around him. Tessa couldn't go forward with the dare with an audience. But that was incorrect. She did in fact have an audience of two and suddenly she could feel their eyes bore into her back. Were they waiting for her to crash and burn? Of course they were.

Without warning, the countdown around her began. Counting down her slipping sanity like a chanting cult. It was all so silly how easily embarrassed she was about a simple kiss. But there was no time to think. With her heart no longer trusting her brain to take control, her body seemed to move on its own accord.

As she sat down right next to him, her thigh pressing against his own, his attention was instantly pulled into her orbit. This close, she could see his deep brown eyes and how the light danced within them. He seemed shocked at first, but he quickly composed himself. As if he knew. As if he’d been expecting this.

Fuck. He was better looking than Tessa thought, then again she only peeked at him from afar. A safe distance. But safety was thrown out the window when she closed in on him, pressing her lips to his the second everyone cheered.

Shouts of “Happy new year!” rang throughout the crowded apartment, but time seemed to slow. His lips were unbelievably soft, melting into her own like a popsicle in the blazing summer heat. How could it be this warm in the winter? She could feel him bringing her in closer by her waist. Then a familiar heat started to grow between her thighs. It didn't take long until she wanted more and more.

A safe distance, what was that? Desire clouded her judgment as he deepened the kiss. It was tender, yet filled with need. Her body was on fire. Just as she was about to snake her hand up his thigh, to find out if he was telling the truth, he pulled away with a knowing smirk. As if he caught her red-handed.

“Happy new year,” she said breathlessly.

“What's your name?” he softly asked.

Was this the same guy from earlier? Mr. Fat Cock? She should’ve felt repulsed, but her body failed her. A warm heat crept up in her cheeks. Maybe it was curiosity that kept her by his side. She completed the dare after all, maybe she could indulge in her friends’ inquiry. Just for tonight. Because who was she kidding? They weren't the only ones who were curious.

“Tessa,” she told him, and waited for his reply.

“Pleasure to meet you, Tessa.” he said, and it felt like his voice was bewitching her. “I’m Haechan.” His smirk never left his face. He didn't say another word and left his eyes to speak for him. Like he was saying I know why you’re here, do you want to find out?

And like a moth to the flame, Tessa couldn't help but take his invitation. What was the harm in finding out if he was just bluffing? Haechan slowly rose from the couch wordlessly, his eyes never leaving hers. When he stretched his hand outwards for her to reach, Tessa took it without a second guess. Because there was no time for thinking. Not when he guided her through the crowd and down the hallway. She could only hear the distant laughter and conversations mixed with her loud heart beat.

No time for regret as he pulled her in the empty bathroom and cornered her between his body and the door. His arm raised above her head to shut the door as quietly as he could, like he was making sure no one suspected they had disappeared. The noise from the rest of the party was muffled, and Tessa wondered if they would be able to hear her cries of pleasure. Because when he pressed his body into hers for the second time that night, she could feel that he was definitely not lying.

#nct #haechan #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #haechan fanfic #nct dream fanfic #lee haechan #mark lee #johnny suh #haechan fic

[genericpuff]

Let me preface this: I'm an architecture major

I used to be a big LO fan but obviously fell out of love of it like a lot of us did, and I know LO uses SketchUp for backgrounds. That is not an issue I have with the comic or any comic, I want artists to have an easier time in any way they can. I was always under the impression Rachel imported the models into Photoshop and drew over them like you can see in the early episodes with the sketchy lines. Well, school just started recently for me and I now have access to SketchUp for my coursework, and I made a few discoveries: 1. Photoshop cannot read SketchUp files, and while you can import them into Clip Studio through some configuring, they can be finicky and will lose parts in the importing process, so they are best used into the original SketchUp program to export as PNGs. 2. Many of the models Rachel uses are incredibly easy to find, especially if you put "modern", "luxury", or "classy" before the main part of the search. Many of the houses and rooms for example are first page results. 3. The biggest discovery: You know how we all assumed Rachel was hand-drawing all the lines over the SketchUp models and how she gave up the longer LO went on? Well, it's actually worse. It turns out SketchUp has a thing called "Styles" in it, which means you can mess with the lines and look of the model, such as making it look more like a blueprint or playing with the colors. Well, they have a lot of styles on SketchUp known as "sketchy lines", which are the exact ones Rachel used early in the comic to fit with her style, and it takes a literal click of a button to do. All she would do is pose the model, click the sketchy line style, and export the PNG. That's it. So, yeah, Rachel is so checked out of the comic that she can't even bother to click a single button to make the models fit into the comic's style anymore. Use that information however you like.

Ouhhh sorry OP, I'm about to like, undo all the work you just put into that ask. We've already known about the 3D background problem for a long while now.

First off, it's more likely LO doesn't use SketchUp but actually Acon3D, which is a website that offers 3D models both for free and at cost, which are actually compatible with software like Clip Studio. As soon as you open it up you'll likely see a lot of very familiar backgrounds that are often used in romances, isekais, and period pieces. It's literally the go-to spot for Webtoon Originals creators. Like, to the point that I wouldn't be surprised if Naver was partnered with them because of how many of their creators use it.

Second, there's plenty of up-to-date evidence to support the fact that Rachel doesn't exclusively stick to one software, sometimes she's drawing in Photoshop, sometimes she's drawing in Clip Studio Paint, sometimes she's drawing in Procreate. She's undoubtedly using Clip Studio for her paneling, speech bubbles, and backgrounds, as there are built in tools to utilize and convert 3D materials into lineart, among other features that are recognizable as coming from CSP because they're not available in PS or Procreate.

Third, yes, she just uses filters to turn her backgrounds into lineart, this has been apparent since S1. The only backgrounds she's ever 'hand drawn' were the ones involving lots of nature and even those are mostly just Photoshop brushes stamped on.

Like I realize I'm probably bursting your bubble here and I apologize for that lmao but these buildings were never hand-drawn, this is not new information (￣﹏￣；) I appreciate you mentioning your own experiences with it as you're learning it though, I find once you start to learn the process yourself you really start to notice what others are doing. Even I've gone through that over the past couple years as I started to use 3D models and more advanced tools specifically for drawing webtoons.

I will mention btw, there's nothing wrong with using 3D models for your character drawing and backgrounds. The only time it tends to get frustrating is when you're reading a comic that isn't making any attempts to blend the background in with the art style.

Like, The Kiss Bet probably uses 3D models to help with perspective and laying out scenes quickly without second-guessing, but you can tell they still hand-draw over the models because they look natural and like they belong to the comic's stylization. The characters don't look out of place sitting in a living room and the living room doesn't look distracting.

But then you get stuff like Lore Olympus, Let's Play, and Midnight Poppy Land, and it becomes a bit more obvious they're not giving a shit about backgrounds lmao

I get it, WT's deadlines are cutthroat as fuck, but if it's getting to the point that you have an entire team behind you and you're literally just copy pasting video game models from Phantom Hourglass, then it's probably time to re-focus your priorities a bit. There are comics with as few as 1-2 assistants (and even in some cases no assistants at all!!) pulling off backgrounds better than this, even when they're taking shortcuts.

(Nevermore and City of Blank)

But a lot of that does come down to how WT manages its expectations as well as support for their creators. The deadlines and requirements WT puts their creators under are insane and awful in the long-term, and they're not acting with the amount of professionalism they ought to be for a platform that's trying to breakout as a major publisher here in the West. I feel like it comes down to WT loosening the choke chain around their creators, but also creating a standardized level of quality to ensure it's not suffering for the sake of quantity. The traditional literature industry has real editors and stages of quality control for a reason, whereas WT is more interested in just throwing as many series at the wall and dumping all their stock into the ones that stick.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #webtoons critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Perhaps some of you remember that time I wrote up an entire essay for the TVTropes forums to get William cemented as a Magnificent Bastard because you literally have to get fictional characters vetted by people who care an absurd amount about this to add them to the trope page.

I am now back on my bullshit, and just got Albert confirmed (Louis is in the works, but the voting looks good for him so far). I did his write up today and it should be up later this week? I enjoy the short version as well.

And now:

The Work

Moriarty the Patriot is a (very loose) retelling of the Sherlock Holmes stories combined with James Bond set in the late 1800s, focused on Professor James Moriarty and exploring his motivations.

The Character

This post is to open a discussion specifically on Albert James Moriarty, older brother of Professor Moriarty (who we already confirmed) and one the Professor's Co-Dragons. Albert is the original "Moriarty" family member biologically who took the other two in as children, and is the leader of MI6 for most of the series.

Why Is He a Bastard

I mean, he kills his own younger biological brother and his mother by hand and then arranged for the entire rest of his family and servants to die in their sleep in a fire. So like. Is that enough?

He also took two orphan kids in, then basically said, "Hey, in exchange for getting your little brother heart surgery he needed to live, help me murder like so many people. Kthx."

He tends to come off colder than either of his brothers, which is sort of impressive since they're all murderers.

I like Albert, but he's certainly a bastard.

But Not That Bad?

Much like his brothers, Albert is trying in a very fucked up way to improve society by murdering people he thinks are making society worse. He is...trying to help in a Pay Evil unto Evil sort of way.

Honestly, Albert is the Moriarty brother who gets the least amount of sympathy from fans, although this shifted a fair amount after it was revealed he has severely untreated OCD, which is a massive contributing factor to his need to eliminate the hypocrisies of all these abusive nobles who keep going to Christian churches. But it's not like most people with OCD are murderers, so there's a limit to how far this Freudian Excuse is going to take him.

Is He Charming/Magnificent

Albert is, according to an official Japanese fan poll, the second most popular character in the series (second to the protagonist of the series, who won by a landslide). This seems to track from the interactions I've had with people. So people are charmed by him.

Albert is also in the series pretty much assigned to "socialization" on behalf of everyone else. He doesn't seem to really like it very much, but he gets along with people rather well. According to his official character profile, he's still getting asked out and courted even after losing his title and going to prison for the murders, so apparently people are really into him.

He also has a similar flair for the dramatic to his younger brother. This is absolutely a man who is going to revel in elaborate schemes and acting a part. While he often asks his brother to arrange details and plans, he always shows up to convince people that he's just so worried about his kidnapped brother, please help him, and oh, gasp, people have died, how tragic.

But Is He Brilliant?

This, I think, is a key factor in Albert's case here: Most of William's subordinates are very subordinate to him. It's made clear that William expects all of his crew to be able to think and plan for themselves and make their own decisions, but the series doesn't always take time to show that off for everyone. Albert does get that time.

Albert often sees opportunities before he engages William for a plan to make it work. Manipulating Mycroft Holmes into getting MI6 created so he could lead it was Albert's idea, and he executed the plan (and he leads MI6 when it's not doing Lord of Crime business), even if William came up with many of the details to help him out. Albert is the one who sees the potential in Adam Whitley and brings the topic up to William.

Also, Albert was the first person to bring William's dreams of killing nobles and creating a brighter world into fruition and set it into a tangible, real path. He and William are frequently tagged as the only two who originated the entire plan.

Albert is a brilliant opportunist and an excellent man to have making sure everything goes off without a hitch, even if the details of getting things done aren't really his forte.

He's brilliant.

What About His Competition?

Most of the nemeses in the series are focused on William, and Albert is his subordinate. Basically none of Sherlock or Milverton's attention ever splashes Albert's way. The person he really engages with in a competitive dance with is...Mycroft Holmes. And while Albert doesn't exactly win, neither does he lose to Mycroft. They come to a couple of agreements and passes to work together and watch to make sure the other isn't getting in their way.

Verdict:

Yes.

#Yuukoku no Moriarty #Moriarty the Patriot #Albert James Moriarty

[tossawary]

Needing something to play in the background during the day, I have started watching Transformers G1 and have now finished the first season. It is very funny to visit the original after getting most of my information through Fandom Osmosis and passing acquaintanceship with more recent Transformers media. I decided to start at the beginning (terrible decision, I know, I will not be changing it) because I have like 40+ hours per week that need background sound and I like studying adaptational choices over time, so I intend to progress through a bunch of Transformers shows in chronological order.

It's kind of like Star Trek: TOS (Star Trek is better) in that I find parts of it very charming, there are plenty of aspects that are even compelling in their potential, but it's also... bad. A lot of it is Very Bad, sometimes in a very funny way and sometimes in a way that is just Not Good and even Problematic. I cannot possibly recommend it.

The animation quality is understandably very low due to the context of its creation (television show from the 80s made to sell toys). I like a few of the Cybertron background paintings, but it still takes me a second to tell a lot of the characters apart, partially because there is a revolving door for supporting characters. The writing quality is even worse. The physics is all over the place. The powers and abilities are completely arbitrary. None of the science works. No one can decide what body parts the Cybertronians actually have. There is way more mind control in this show than I ever expected there to be. This is apparently an alternate universe where the Earth has various types of energy crystals. The Idiot Ball trope is flying all over the place like dodgeballs and the characters are repeatedly hitting themselves with it constantly. Some of the accents are quite silly, yeah, but it still doesn't justify how some people type them out in fanfiction.

And yet I am still mildly entertained, probably because I am already partial to both animation and space opera with robots. And I recognize enough of the characters to find these early versions of them very funny. And some parts of this extended toy commercial were very clearly Done With Love.

Megatron and Starscream are like two halves of a whole idiot. The Decepticons are incapable of not betraying each other for more than a few episodes. Except for Soundwave, who is the MVP of the Decepticons, and yet also does nothing to stop any of the drama. Both sides can just Make New Guys at any time apparently and the Dinobots should unionize. I think Optimus Prime essentially "ok boomer"ed Megatron in the second episode and it was justified. I can't believe that Shockwave didn't just straight up stage a coup or otherwise move on in 4 million years, like, man, DUMP HIS ASS already. Bumblebee has apparently always been Very Smol and Just A Little Guy. Because this is a kids show, all these giant robots are constantly calling the Mortal Enemies They Want Dead "dweebs" and "nerds" and "twerps" and it's Very Funny. And I'm just going to assume that Sparkplug is a nickname and not an adult human man's legal name.

Also, I know the reason that the human kids are in the show is so that the show can go, "Look! This could be you! Being friends with all your favorite giant robots!" But it very much comes off as the Autobots having no real context for Spike's age or squishiness, probably because their own newborns are already able to fight. And Carly's introduction involving renting scuba gear and breaking into the Decepticon base makes her look (and I mean this with bewildered affection) fucking nuts, girl.

#tossawary transformers #tf g1 #optimus prime #megatron #starscream #soundwave #bumblebee #carly witwicky #shockwave #grimlock #spike witwicky