#this plot is so nonsensical so why not indulging even more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loadedberetta · 5 months

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Barracks 4

König x fReader // callsign Misfit; fem no body desc // MDNI

summary: Time soon came to answer to the Colonel, about the botched hit you fucked up a few days prior.

2.8k words // rating: E/18+ // MDNI

(sequel to Apartment 10)

warnings: porn with some plot; humiliation; implied past experience with Ghost; possessive König because that's fun; quick blowie; breath play?; exhibition if you squint your eyes; dacryphilia; some German; nicknames used: callsign Misfit, Mausi (little mouse), Schatzi (treasured one), braves Mädchen (good girl); Reader is left blueballed as a punishment

a/n: it's hella self-indulgent okay? I'm sorry but Reader sometimes gets left on read it'll be worth it I promise

Stitches healed swiftly on your hip, and your bruises faded in opposition to the memories made on that fateful mission.

Colonel König blinked down at you expectantly, walking around behind the metal chair while you were sat further from him in the room filled with other members of your faction.

For some godforsaken reason, he was still in gear, his flight back from mission landed just minutes before he called for a debrief about recent events unfolding. The rest of the meeting didn't concern you much, but when he mentioned your name, blood froze in your veins.

"…and as you might know, the American banker related to AQ transactions is still on the loose, thanks to the bashfulness of our Misfit." He cleared his throat, and you averted your gaze, face burning with embarrassment. "Roze, mission is now yours. Next…"

The world faded quickly into a blur after that. The moment the debrief was over, you headed for your room after taking a thorough cold shower to try and wash away the edge the last few days had left in you.

It hadn't even been a full minute since you were back in your room, three knocks rippled through the stale air of the room.

"One moment!" Your voice rang out, quickly pulling a new shirt on your otherwise uncovered upper body.

Tugging some pants on, you opened the door to the small room and were met by a dark figure on the other side.

"Colonel!" You yelped quietly and crossed your arms swiftly across your chest to try and shield your perking nipples underneath the green shirt.

He sighed. "Can I come in?"

His thick Austrian accent turned even more prominent with the level of agitation that so obviously radiated from him.

"Yes, uh… yes." Your face felt hot again at your state. Barely any clothes on, hair still wet from the shower, room in disarray.

He stood still in the middle of the small space, which enhanced his figure even more. Tearing your gaze from his hips, now sans a tactical belt, you closed the door and leaned against it, not expecting much positive.

He was usually way more lax in his nightly visits to your quarters.

"Your report is nonsensical, Misfit." He rasped, turning around, the hulking frame now facing you. You gulped, as his wide body almost blocked out the moonlight filtering through the shutters, illuminating him in a strange light.

His helmet and hood were gone, only a loose ski mask hung on his head.

You didn't have anything to say, it was; you…

"…completely omitted where you spent the night, how you acquired meds, and why you didn't report in at all until morning." He sounded an inkling more protective than usual.

"Misfit, how did this happen?" He leaned forward a bit, gloved hands fidgeting while crossing his arms over his bulging chest.

"I got hit,-"

"That's not an answer to my question." He cut you off and scoffed under his hood.

It was extremely hard, to discern his expressions through the shadowy eyeholes of the fabric draped over his face.

"Moreover," He lifted a finger authoritatively. "you failed to mention that SpecGru was also on site! Verdammte Scheiße, Misfit!" He fumed under the surface and raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose over the hood.

Following his hand, you glimpsed the rough outline of the bridge of his nose under the cotton and gasped lightly.

"I asked you a question, soldier." You heard his stern voice ricochet off the walls a moment later.

Not waiting for an answer, he repeated himself: "Which one of them was there? Hm?"

He settled again, tilting his head and locking his cold, icy gaze on you.

Silence. He stepped closer.

"Cat got your tongue?" You saw as if he was raising a brow behind the mask.

"No, no, I…" You now laid flat against the door, dwarfed by his large body inching closer to you steadily.

"Who… was it." His breath would have fanned over your face, had the mask not separated his skin from yours. "Because I don't like my soldiers… converging with the opposite faction, you understand?"

The small nod you made with closed eyes was stopped by a finger on your chin, ungloved and cold. You gasped and opened your eyes.

"Don't tell me you're trying to protect them…" He cooed, ever so silently, as some footsteps passed by the room outside. "The only person here who needs protecting is you, Mausi."

A dark chuckle reverberated around you.

"Your silence is going to get you into more trouble than it's worth, now…" His tongue clicked, and you gulped in return. A small whimper broke from deep in your throat.

"Scheiße…" He scoffed with an audible smirk and lifted his head. "You're enjoying this…" He stated, rather than leaving the question up to you.

"Ghost… It was Ghost." You whispered, voice choked and burning with embarrassment.

"Was it now?" He perked up, placing a hand on the door next to your nodding head. "Warst du tapfer, ja, Schatzi? Look up, at me."

Your lashes fluttered as you finally found enough courage to blink up at his terrifyingly darkened features.

"Braves Mädchen… Now…" He placed two fingers below your trembling chin and pushed it upwards, making it impossible for you not to look into his glowing eyes. You felt your stomach somersault in place at his words.

The clink noise of the clasp of his belt rang in your ears before the barked command of "Kneel.".

Without a second thought, you did. However, you'd never done this, not with König. Punishment was going to be harsher this time.

You'd had a thing for him the moment you first arrived at KorTac a few months back. And he took advantage of it, not wasting a moment on formalities. He'd marked you for the first time after another member looked at you wrong. You hadn't even seen who it was before he grabbed you and marched you away to a quiet corner of the current base, and had his way with you. Confusion pooled low in your abdomen, mixing with arousal the moment he laid his hands on you. Then slowly, is eased. A few weeks of rigorous establishment of his territory (subtly to others and not so) subtly to you felt natural.

You'd become his plaything; and you had nothing against it. If anything, it was an experience to be enjoyed.

Marks left by him almost constantly make your skin ache in the most sensitive spots over your tits, collarbones, thighs… You were nothing more than a toy for him in your eyes and didn't expect much in retaliation for the wrong step you took with Ghost.

He couldn't have known about it. KorTac and SpecGru were not on talking terms.

"Now did you take me to be that dumb, that I wouldn't see it the moment I laid eyes on you? Hm?"

"What?" You asked, feeling minute on your knees. You weren't small, but to him, you couldn't measure up.

"That prick. He fucked your damn brain out of you."

"N-no, that's not…"

"Oh don't try to deny it, I've seen your medical already."

Diligently, you raised your hands to his hips, trying to veer his attention from the obvious.

"You're going to make up for it, I see. I want to see you try." A dark chuckle enveloped you, drowning out the hard thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat rumbling steadily in your ears.

Instead of answering, you nodded shortly, gaze now focused on the bulging length that dared to free itself should you not be quick enough about it.

Two clicks snapped your attention away from a vein you traced with your eyes through the fabric, fingers hooked in the brown belt loops.

"Langsam. Show me you are sorry."

You nodded again, rapid, overeager movements with your head. A hand patted your head and settled on the crown of your skull.

Not taking any more seconds to let the fleeting moment pass, you hooked a finger under the waistband of his tight, dark blue boxers, and unceremoniously freed his hard length. You knew how big he was, having taken him before several times, but it never came to this before. Already fearing for your voice in the coming days, you wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft.

Nothing but an exhale marked your actions. Wetting your lips thoroughly, you opened your mouth and inch by inch, started taking him. His hand didn't move on your head yet, and he was worryingly silent.

Wiggling your tongue to feel the same vein as your eyes did just a minute before earned you the first real sound he made that night. A low groan, short, punctuated, and to the point. Closing the tight ring of your mouth around half of his length, you exhaled shakily and closed your eyes with the sensation. A sticky, salty feeling settled in your throat, as saliva pooled below your tongue, making your next move more easy.

Throat slowly opening as you relaxed, you tried the impossible and took more of his length in. He hissed small above you, making your eyes flutter open again.

Dragging your head back, you almost completely removed your hot mouth from around him, only leaving the silky tip between your lips. You let your tongue wander up and down the pronounced dip of it and took him in again languidly with the same momentum.

An exhale hit your ear, forced and involuntary at the same time.

No words. No praise. Silence was your ally, letting you on that he didn't have a complaint.

Working yourself up again to try, you took more of him in, lips brushing your hand wrapped around the base before the sensation became uncomfortable.

"More…" Came the whispered command from above you. Looking up the best you could, you saw König's chin from below the mask, head angled back.

And you obliged. Inhaling through your nose and bracing, you closed your already weeping eyes and felt your wet lips connect to your curled index finger. The sensation was overwhelming, your throat being so full of something.

You felt pressure on your head, his hand first gently pushing you onto himself, losing control as seconds inched by. Feeling him twitch deep in your throat made your cunt pulse repeatedly, a warm feeling overshadowing the warning of dwindling oxygen in your lungs.

"Hold it." You heard him mumble, lengthening the syllables slightly.

A whimper broke from your lungs, with the last of the air stored in them before you felt like you couldn't hold his cock down your throat anymore.

"Yes…" He hissed as he let your head go, making you fall back onto your heels with a gasp.

Completely disconnected from him, you panted, breaking the line of saliva tracing your lips to his cock.

Without a word exchanged, you rose again and licked in small movements along his shaft, kissing it, trying to win time for yourself. His cock throbbed, hard and thick like you've never seen before. Your cunt remembered all the times he speared you open, rutting into you with reckless abandon. Clenching turned painful, as your tight pussy silently begged for his attention and soaked your tight pants.

His hand settled on your head again and guided you onto himself without a care. This time, he settled for a steady pace, lewd noises filling the room from the pooling saliva spreading around on his cock with each thrust.

He didn't talk, he rarely did. Lost in the pleasure, or simply not holding you worthy enough of praise, he had you settle on listening to his noises during it. Unusually desperate huffs and breaths escaped his mouth this time, stirring arousal in every part of your body, almost to the point of it becoming unbearable.

Languid thrusts quickly turned desperate; post-mission stress, the need to use you, and the simple lewd act of a blowjob sent him to the edge unusually quickly. His hand on the back of your head left no room for you to move, or even control your own movements, turning you into a breathy mess under him.

Your tears soon mixed with the cocktail of precum and saliva already running down your chin, dribbling slowly onto your thighs tightly pressed together. You were chasing friction by then, one hand still on his cock (although only two fingers), the other bracing yourself in the crook of your hip.

Neck threatening to cramp soon along with your shaking thighs holding yourself up slightly, you silently begged for it to be over soon. König's palm didn't ease up on your head, instead switching to slower, but much more agonizing, deep thrusts. Cockhead repeatedly punching against the back of your throat, you whimpered each time, swallowing around him when it became too much.

His noises started to pick up, hisses and grunts broke from his lips quicker and quicker. You tried pushing yourself off, getting a full inhale of air into your lungs, but it soon became obvious that it wasn't in your right to. Lightheadedness started to take over you soon, staccato whimpers drowned out by deep thrusts down your neck.

Thankfully, in what felt like an act of mercy, he let up the pressure on your head for a few moments, allowing you to finally gulp some air into your parched lungs. The new, shallow thrusts he settled for allowed you to save yourself from a blackout, but they simultaneously felt like they shattered your jaws each time in turn. Your grip strengthened on the base of his cock again, the edge of your palm nestled against his pelvic bone overspread with dirty blonde hair.

Feeling his body tense and let go, his moans becoming more strained and his hand finding its way back to the crown of your head, you knew he grew close to his climax. Wet sounds echoed all around you, and you were sure at least some of it was audible in the corridor leading up to your room.

Embarrassment washed over you but was quickly overshadowed by a strange sense of pride, bolstered by the noises König made above you as he quickened his already punishing pace driving his dick deeper into your sweet mouth again.

Half a dozen times, you felt his tip connect to the back of your throat before feeling his fingers roughly scratch your scalp. He stilled completely, and his inhale broke sharply. He pumped rope after rope into your needy mouth before he pulled away, uncaring to pearly drops still leaking from his glistening tip.

You managed to disappear his load down your throat in two separate gulps, letting your eyes flutter open during. You sniffled, and wiped streaks of tears down your cheeks as you heard him speak;

"Braves Mädchen, Mausi-" He stepped closer again but didn't make an effort to reach out to you. He did up his pants and snapped his belt close again. "You took me well." He stated rather matter-of-factly, as you remained on the ground, exhausted and ashamed.

"Komm." He offered his shoulder and leaned down. Eyes alight, you grabbed his neck and allowed him to take you over his shoulder, thighs pressed together by the movement. It made you see stars, that little friction you barely got from his touch.

The next moment, he laid you down roughly onto your bed and encased your figure by planting his two hands beside your head and separating your thighs with his knee.

"Sucking me off wasn't a punishment, ja?…" You nodded confused, wanting desperately to agree with him if it meant you'd earned his favour.

You felt his knee slide up between your inner thighs, pressing into your cunt a moment later. A sharp gasp left your mouth, and you threw your head back in ecstasy at the fleeting second of pressure on your cunt.

And then, the mattress lifted beside you, and the moon shined at you again.

"…But this is." He stood up straight, and you heard his voice not even trying to conceal a smirk. "I'll be back tomorrow." He grunted flatly and rolled his shoulders.

Unable to form words while sparks fizzing deep in your brain, spine alight and guts flaring, you sat up, mouth falling open.

"Close your mouth, that look is not flattering." He dismissed you before he promptly walked to the door. "And don't touch yourself until tomorrow. I'll be back at 10."

"Wh--" The rest of your complaint hit against your shutting door, König's footsteps already echoing down the hallway.

masterlist

a/n: oh no poor reader is getting denied oh no! I'm going to start to feel bad for her never soon! what if König and Ghost find her together what then? crossposted to ao3 too; feedback appreciated

#beretta does fics #let the tagging hell commence #cod fanfic #cod mw ii #cod mw fanfiction #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig cod #konig #ghost x reader #könig mw2

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chaoticbardlady99 · 16 days

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Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me

Spawn! Astarion x F! Ghost Reader

Chapter Two: Tea Parties and Fashion Catastrophes

Synopsis: (6 months Post-Netherbrain) You and Astarion run into trouble while trying to find a map to a Ring of Sunwalking. Astarion gives you a gift and plans your next adventure. A confession after a hunt leads to an interesting discovery about your ghost powers.

CW: Mentions of violence (literally barely)

Note: The first couple chapters will have time skips because it is meant to set up the main plot- more chaos is on it's way!

Disclaimer- I put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. Birdie is a stock image 💜 I will not describe the readers body in detail- she is just merely on the banner for ✨drama✨. I believe the picture of Astarion is from @cheekylittlepupp . And then the symbol of Orcus in the back is a free image off the internet.

Chapter One: Chapter Three :AO3

“Princess Cupcakes,” the little girl giggles as she pretends to pour you a cup of tea, “would you like sugar and milk with your tea?”

You give two unenthusiastic, sharp meows in response and the girl pretends to put sugar and milk in your tea. The little girl, Scarlett, was an obstacle that you and Astarion had not foreseen when you broke into the Drow mansion in Menzoberranzan.

You had chased a lead all the way into The Cloud Peaks in Amn and the Gold Dragon who’s blood supposedly held the cure for Astarion’s sun allergy. It seemed too good to be true.

And it was.

In fact, the Dragon, Heskan, was resigned to inform them that his blood would cause Astarion to spontaneously combust. However, he did have a very solid lead, but the map to this lead was hidden within a family’s mansion in Menzoberranzan.

The plan had been fool proof- there was a massive ball tonight at some other Mansion in Menzoberranzan and from the gossip you heard around the mansion during your snooping, the entire family was going to this event.

Right as the carriage left, you and Astarion had snuck in through the sunroom door and used invisibility to get to the library. When you were unable to locate it in the library, you moved to the office- this went on for much longer than either one of you wanted until you found it in the little girl’s room. Why is a cryptic book about her ancestor’s in her room? No clue.

You both had no reason to be worried.

Or so you thought.

As soon as Astarion picked up the book, an excited squealing was heard from the hallway and the little girl came barreling towards you with tears streaming down her face and snot bubbling in her nose. Astarion barely hid himself in time, but he didn’t even attempt to save you from this miserable fate.

Princess Cupcakes your ass- you didn’t even like tea parties when you were a little girl!

Scarlett put you in some kind of tulle, pink tutu and a paper crown that now sits uncomfortably on your head. The girl speaks of nonsensical drama between her parents and it made you feel just bad enough that you’ve allowed her to indulge in her Kitty Tea Party dream, but you are fed up with staring into glassy stuffed cats’ eyes and not being able to hear properly. Not to mention, the skirt is itchy.

“Oh Princess Cupcakes, if only my parents would let me keep you,” Scarlett sighs, “but alas, they will skin you like the others! But don’t worry- we will still be having tea parties and you will have so much fun!”

You knew these stuffed Cats looked far too life-like for your liking. This is probably about your cue to try to skeedaddle, but the sound of neighing and the little girl’s happy clapping makes your stomach drop.

The ball is still going for another five hours! They only just left!

You yowl in despair- you are doomed!

Scarlett aggressively pets your head and you bat her hand causing her to become upset.

“Bad kitty!”

“Scarlett!!!” A frantic woman calls and the little girl scoops you up in her arms while marching towards the door.

The girl smiles maliciously at you, “you’ll be a good kitty again soon!”

Except she doesn’t make it very far when a blast of sleep hits her and causes her to drop like a weight- Astarion quickly snatching you out of the air and returning to the hiding spot behind the child’s massive door.

“Oh Lolth, help me- Scarlett! Of course you would hide and then fall asleep,” the woman is practically screeching, “Gods below- your hair is a mess now! We are going to be even more….”

The woman’s voice trails off as she storms away with the sleeping child in her arms. You and Astarion sit in total silence and you hold your breath as you wait for the sound of the carriage taking off. You can still hear the mother fussing over Scarlett’s appearance and Scarlett is whining now that she is awake- her screaming and crying is enough to make you want to rip your own fur out.

You finally take a breath when the horses neigh and the sound of the carriage lurching forward echoes through the room. Astarion immediately begins snickering as he closes the door and looks to see if there are any guards underneath the bedroom window.

“What are you snickering about?” You leer at the man.

“Oh nothing, your highness.”

His adorable, obnoxious giggle starts up again as he begins the descent down the wall using Spider Crawl- you are less than amused.

“You jest, but I was an excellent tea party guest,” you say with feigned anger, “thank you very much.”

“Excellent is a stretch, my Dear. You could not be less enthusiastic about milk and sugar if you tried.”

“You wouldn’t be too enthusiastic about milk and sugar either if you were about to become a toy!” You exclaim, “they would have eaten and stuffed me! Stuffed, Astarion! I would be a STUFFED CAT FOREVER IF I COULDN’T LEAVE THIS BODY.”

“Would you be aware of being in their stomach’s then?” Astarion thinks aloud, “could your soul split in that way? That would be a horrific experience I’m sure.”

You just gape at him- your ear twitching and you turn your chin up at him. Both of you are now safely walking towards the Inn you are staying at for the night and you feel far more safe to be dramatic.

“Oh don’t be like that, Darling,” he teases, “I wouldn’t have let that happen to you.”

You grumble and shake your head in an attempt to throw the crown off.

“I can’t believe I even let this fashion disaster happen,” he says while removing the ridiculous crown off your head, “tulle and paper does not suit you in the slightest.”

“I am quite miffed with you for that- this tutu is ridiculous and itchy.”

“It is made of tulle- I could fashion you a new-“

“Don’t you dare!”

Astarion bursts out laughing and earns weird looks from several on lookers that he proceeds to return with a ‘what? You have an issue?’ look. You can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course they have an issue with it- you would be concerned too if a beautiful man was talking and laughing with a cat.

The rest of the walk back to the inn is in silence and you don’t mind it so much. Astarion isn’t paying much attention to you and you take advantage of the moment to silently worship his features.

Everyday you grow more and more agitated with being stuck as a cat- your growing affections have been absolutely no help in quelling your irritation. If anything, it made it worse.

It doesn’t seem to matter what you do or did to prevent it, but you seem to have fallen into some kind of feelings for the man. You envy every person who gets to kiss his lips or be on the receiving end of honeyed words. You would also love to be able to cuddle as a person.

Eh, oh well.

“Admiring my beauty, are we?” Astarion goads.

You flick your ears in irritation- a lame attempt at pretending he didn’t surprise you, “I was merely wondering what you use to wash your hair.”

“My hair?”

“Yes, your hair.”

“You are the worst liar I have ever met.”

“I’m not lying.”

You both make eye contact for far longer than you would like, but you hold your ground long enough that he drops it with a cocky smirk. He knows you’re lying because your heart is thrumming painfully hard against your chest.

“I’m afraid it’s a trade secret, Darling,” Astarion says, “if I told you, I would no longer be useful to you anymore.”

“That isn’t true and you know it.”

“Perhaps.”

A deep frown settles in your brain.

“I hope one day you will be able to see how important you are to me,” you say softly, neglecting to look at him. You look far too dumb in this godforsaken tutu for a heart to heart.

You curl up on the bed as soon as Astarion opens the Inn room door after unceremoniously destroying the tutu in an attempt to take it off. Astarion tries to hold back his laughter as he discards the flimsy material.

He takes his shirt off, as he usually does, before going to the washroom and you pretend you are asleep (as you usually do).

You want to scream how much you love him and adore him from the mountain tops. You want to tell him that he never has to look too far to be loved again, but you can’t risk losing him altogether- that would destroy you.

Not to mention, what life could you give him? You possessed a cat for fucks sake.

He doesn’t take as long as he usually does- a wide grin along his face. You look at him with heavy amounts of suspicion.

“What? You made me a new tutu already?”

“Ha! You wish, Darling,” Astarion snorts, “I do have something for you though.”

He grabs something out of his bag and you honestly don’t know if you should be horrified or fascinated when he shows you his stolen copy of ‘Volo’s Guide to Spirits and Spectres’.

“Uh- thank you? I think?”

Astarion rolls his eyes before plopping down next to you on the bed and scratches you between the ears while flipping aimlessly through the book.

“Well- I was thinking,” Astarion begins slowly, “that, once we solve my sun allergy, we should begin to find a way for you to be in ‘person’ form again.

“You are a wonderful cat, but I’m sure being a person would be preferable?”

“Really?”

Your voice comes out much quieter than you intended it to. You thought you would go back to Baldur’s Gate and you would just watch him have a whole life until your feline form perishes.

This? You could have never anticipated this.

“Of course, Darling,” the softness of his voice causes you to finally take your eyes away from the book, “you have been by my side for this adventure and then some- we might as well keep the show going.”

“Ah, yes,” your voice reflects the happiness you feel blooming on the inside, “the show must go on.”

You spend the next couple hours perusing the contents of Volo’s novel. The information is atrocious and laughable at best. You find yourself laughing so hard your stomach is in stitches; Astarion’s scowling and additional commentary did not help.

Eventually a comfortable silence falls over both of you and lulls you to sleep. Astarion continues to read through Volo’s terrible writing and finds that he is more and more disappointed by it’s contents than he had thought he would be.

Heskan had told him about the book after you had fallen into a deep slumber- the Gold dragon had taken a liking to you because he is a Bard and he appreciated having someone to talk about music theory with.

“This information seems to worry you more than it thrills you, Astarion,” the dragon noted curiously, “why?”

Astarion stared at you sleeping on the chair as he tried to put together his thoughts.

“What if she leaves?”

“What if she stays?” Heskan challenged, “I think you are far more afraid of what happens if she stays than if she leaves.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh please- I’m old enough to know when two people are tied up in a red string,” the dragon tutted, “relax Vampling- the world isn’t actually out to get you.”

Astarion has no idea what Heskan meant about the red string or why he would be more afraid of you becoming a person than remaining a cat forever, but the excitement in your voice when he proposed the idea meant he couldn’t back out of it now.

Astarion would just need to convince you that he was worth traveling with and then he will have to keep every potential suitor far away so that he never has to worry about you running off.

It’s a simple plan and it will work easily- Astarion is not ready to lose your companionship and he likes to think that it won’t be that hard for him to convince you to stick around.

Right?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

By the Gods you are going to get that damn squirrel if it’s the last thing you do.

“Whatcha gonna do, pretty kitty?!” The conniving creature sticking out it’s tongue, “it’s hard to eat if you can’t catch your meal!”

This has been going on for the last hour and a half- you finally had enough and addressed the squirrel directly, but it apparently felt the need to add it’s own flare to the situation.

You had decided to show Astarion you were perfectly capable of hunting your own dinner when you complained about the dryness of the hog he brought back. He finally told you to, and you quote, ‘feck shite’ (where that came from, you will never know), but you took the advice and now you are going to prove to him that you are perfectly capable of not being a dinner nuisance for him.

Obviously- it’s going poorly.

“‘Oh look at me! The dumb, cute gray ca-“

You had had so much confidence earlier. Now you are being taunted by a squirrel. You are basically zoning him out at this point as you go back to the hypothetical drawing board, however, a specific rogue’s arrow gets to it first. You can hear the man chuckling from behind you as the squirrel drops to the forest floor.

“I would apologize for ruining your fun, Darling,” Astarion says, “but I don’t think there was any fun to be had. Well- except for the squirrel. He seemed to be having a good time.”

You grumble and follow along miserably as you walk back to camp. Astarion is talking about something- probably making fun of you for the squirrel- but you are too in your head.

You don’t want to burden Astarion- you wish you could hunt like a normal person. You wish you could just be a fucking person again. Your world is so small and isolating and the only person you have is Astarion. You were able to stop by Waterdeep and spend time with Gale, Tav, and Tara which was fun- minus Tara goading you for your affections towards Astarion. You had been positively mortified and prayed to every God in all the planes that he didn’t hear her say that.

So far so good.

“Darling?” Astarion asks with a sliver of concern in his voice, “Birdie? My flightless friend?”

You snort at the last statement and roll your eyes.

“Yes, my dear,” you say mockingly, “Astarion? My vampire friend?”

When you look up at him- you can still see some concern on his face, but he looks more relieved than anything.

“Oh good, you are speaking to me. I was worried you were upset with my poaching,” Astarion says, sitting down and starting a fire at your designated campsite for the evening.

You honestly hadn’t really thought about it. You were relieved to have something for dinner.

“Oh no,” you say with a dismissive wave of your tail, “I’m really grateful that you intervened- thank you.”

Astarion frowns, “Okay- something is wrong.”

You tilt your head at him and he releases a huff of annoyance.

“You are not nearly as wonderfully snarky and Bardish as you usually are,” Astarion says pointedly, “so what’s wrong?”

You stare down at your paws and sigh.

“I just wish I could be myself again, I suppose,” you say sheepishly, “I feel like such a burden.”

“You are not a burden,” he continues to roast the squirrel, “hunting for the others? Now that would be a burden.”

You hum in appreciation for his kind words. At least he doesn’t feel the same way you feel about yourself. You don’t know what you would do if he agreed with you.

Probably live with Halsin and Arabella- the Druid taking in the young orphan and any others who needed a home. You and Astarion have talked about visiting once he is able to walk in the sun- he wants to appreciate Reithwinn in the Sun.

“I’ve seen Reithwinn in more than enough darkness for a lifetime,” Astarion tuts, “but at least the ‘Lady of Loss’ wouldn’t be trying to kill me this time.”

The two of you are engulfed in silence as you eat your freshly cooked squirrel (it’s terribly dry from being overcooked, but you honestly don’t care anymore). Astarion, on the other hand, continues to flip through Volo’s terrible book until one of his fingers begins to aggressively go over a page. You go into fight or flight mode when he slaps the book on the ground out of excitement- your tail puffy and your fur standing up.

“You should, hypothetically, be able to exit your host for two hours, once a day in Incorporeal form,” Astarion shows you where the information is on the page, “it looks like the two hours is due to the Host being asleep for that two hours- anything after that means they could leave or slay you, but I’m not worried about that.”

The information doesn’t seem real. There is no way Volo’s research is accurate- the man loves drama and creates impossible situations. However, you are just desperate enough to have some kind of reprieve from being stuck in cat form and it reads as simple enough.

You curl up into a ball in front of the fire while Astarion makes sure there are no potential enemies in the area- just in case this goes poorly and your feline friend decides to skeedaddle. Not that you think she will- she seems to rather enjoy your company there. She’s never complained anyway.

You close your eyes and focus- trying to remember not to over complicate things. It’s like body jumping, just without another body to jump into and most importantly you want to live again. You know that emphasis is important.

Everything feels weightless and your head spins momentarily as you squeeze your eyes shut. Have you always been this dizzy? It feels like it never ends!

“Wow.”

You open your eyes slowly and are greeted by the sight of a shocked looking Astarion- his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. You assess the situation and put your hands out in front of your face or at least you hope they are hands and not paws.

Gods be damned- it worked!!!!!! An elated giggle leaves your lips when you see that you are still in your Anarchic Blue Outfit (which had been scandalous for the time period and it’s why you chose it). You even have the same delicate shoes and YOUR VIOLIN!

You hop up and down with delight- practically skipping over to one of Astarion’s mirrors and you are even more elated. Your hair and makeup are the same!

The only thing that gives you pause are the two puncture wounds on your neck. You wonder if you can find a way to make a scarf incorporeal so you don’t have to see them. Donella doesn’t get to brand you forever- especially not in your undeath.

You turn around and, in your elation, forget that Astarion doesn’t have a reflection so when you turn around- you find that he followed you over to the mirror. He still looks like he’s experiencing shock and you notice he isn’t breathing or really blinking- just staring. There’s something in his gaze that you can’t place, but you are sure he’s regretting this idea now.

You can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed and self conscious. All of your squealing and childishness must be very off putting.

“I hope you don’t regret this,” You chuckle nervously, continuing when he doesn’t respond “am I at least weird and off putting in a pretty way?”

Astarion finally blinks to life and walks over with a large smile on his face.

“Darling, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Astarion muses, “my only regret is not finding this book much much sooner.”

Your grin feels like it could split your face open and a rush of cold goes to your cheeks. How strange.

“Thank you, Star.”

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

I also am so very sorry that this took forever to post. I was having a really bad mental health episode due to some overarching circumstances that are no longer a stressor. I already have the next two chapters written soooooooo

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x you #bg3 #karlach #astarion ancunin #astarion and tav #astarion fanfiction #astarion x f! reader #astarion x ghost reader

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littledollll · 7 months

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Foolish

Lucifer Morningstar x human!reader

A/n: this started as one thing and turned into another so I’m sorry if the plot is all over the place. But hey, first October post, it’s my birthday month‼️

Warnings: humans being stupid, unrequited love? idk what else.

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“Have you ever seen them in such despair?… I’m almost worried for them..” a servant whispered to Mazikeens ear as she watched her lord in what seemed to be a depressive state,but no… That’s not possible… is it? No. The devil, the great ruler of hell doesn’t sulk. At least that’s what she was lead to believe before today.

Mazikeen merely looked her way in acknowledgment. It was a weird sight. She’d been with Lucifer through their best and worse. She’s seen plenty of them in all types of situations, but never like this. She’d hate to admit her lord looked… pitiful? Oh they’d have her head if she ever uttered those words aloud.

Mazikeen ushered the girl away. Lucifer’s pride couldn’t possibly take another hit. Lucifer’s sigh of relief as she left was visible in their shoulders, they turned their back to mazikeen.

“I should’ve known.” Lucifer says under their breath, mostly to themselves. But it was loud enough for her to hear. “An unexpected turn of events, sire. If I may?” With a nod, she approached. If there was anyone with a level head they would listen to, it’s her.

“I don’t know much about all of this. But.. seemed quite hesitant to leave you, you know.” That sounded like a bunch of nonsense to Lucifer if they were honest.

You were truthful hesitant. This dumb mistake of screwing around with things you definitely shouldn’t seemed like a bad idea to even you. But the devil was so captivating.. and you made a promise. Could you break it? Even if it is with the devil how could you?

Oh how they wanted to rage and scream and throw a tantrum. But no no, you’re better than that Lucifer. Much better. “He’s a rat, that man. Stealing away my rightful spouse.” If only it were possible for literal venom to spit through their mouth, it would.

That rat, your friend, of course wouldn’t allow you to go around continuing to indulge yourself in the paranormal. Any well- normal person would also save themselves and their friends from it too. But is breaking a deal with the devil as easy as simply running away?

“Isn’t it more complicated than that, sire?” What a brave thing for her to say. “Complicated? What could possibly be so complicated? It’s simple. They’re my spouse, mine… or at least supposed to be.” Lucifer’s voice goes from angry to solem.

They’d catch up to you eventually. If they ever get over their slump over your involuntary rejection. You can’t run away from the devil anyways. They could find you. They could take you away forever. But does Lucifer truly want to forcefully take you away? They don’t want you here if it’s not by choice. So they’re left to ponder.

“But I should’ve known. Why would they ever want me? Of course I’m great. I’m powerful, I’m wise, I’m beautiful! But I am the devil… isn’t that all they’ll ever see?”

They really are lovesick, aren’t they? Mazikeen couldn’t be more amused. But it’s never a joy to see her lord so pained, of course. “I could list a lot more reasons than you just did for somebody to want to stick by you… it’s foolish if that’s the only reason they aren’t here.” Mazikeen said, sounding confident. But that didn’t really help the devil.

“They probably want a mortal. Somebody who lives in their realm and will die alongside them.” How could the most prideful being in this universe be so pessimistic? “Overrated! They rather that, opposed to you granting them immortality?”

“The mortals see me as evil. Perhaps that’s why.” Excuses excuses excuses. “Sounds idiotic to me. I can’t believe you’re so worked up about some human who obviously isn’t good enough for you.”

Lucifer sighed. “They were perfect.” This whole situation was just making Mazikeen irritated at this point. “Please. It’s a mortal, how perfect can they be? Especially if they turned away from you like that.”

That was quite conflicting. How could they be perfect for each other if their meeting was a coincidence? A mistake made by a foolish human dealing with the otherworldly. But something about you captivated their own soul. Did you not feel the same? Were you mindlessly moving on with your life now, already forgotten about them?

But no, the image of the Beautiful devil haunts you in your sleep. An endless reminder of a walked out deal, a promise. One which will surely come back to bite you some day.

Or not. If you were foolish enough to come back to them.

#the sandman lucifer #the sandman #lucifer gwendoline #mazikeen the sandman #lucifer sandman #gwendoline christie #sandman lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar the sandman #the sandman lucifer morningstar #the sandman lucifer morningstar x reader #gwendolineuniverse

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linddzz · 3 months

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Dreamling Nonsense Masterpost

Looking for a fic? For a shit post? For a long winded au thread? Playlists? Got it here. Keeping it Dreamling for now until I really have the time to scour through my various fandom posts to collect the Big Hits.

Audacity in Human Form: E. main WIP. A post season 1 "let's see these two figure their shit out" exploration that's best described as two character studies stacked inside of a fanfic shaped coat. My main tagline for it is "it isn't unrequited, Dream just needs therapy." The fic exploring how the two weirdos I have in my head got together.

Fics/Tumblr Ficlets

"Audacity in Human Form" Series

Not exactly a structured chronological series. I have a pretty set version of my Dream and Hob in the canon!universe, so all the fics I write of them are just the same two dolls I'm bumping together in the same sandbox. They can be read in any order or separately, but there are characterization threads and things mentioned that tie them all together. I like to think that put together they can give fun context or more depth to each other :)

I'm less into Big Plots and more into just having fun bumping these dolls together and playing with how they interact!

It's a WIP and I write slow, as my job takes a lot of mental bandwidth.

(Other fics in the same series can be read even while the first isn't done! They don't really spoil much except for the fact that they do end up together. But of course they are.)

In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon: Gen. Drabble ficlet on Tumblr as I start exploring my Shit-wizard Hob AU. More of a rough draft concept fic

Obviously: E. smut prompt fill one-shot. PWP. Dream is a needy eldritch pissbaby and also violently romantic. Hob scruffs him for some much needed gentle domming.

This Isn't the Trope: Teen. Lots of cussing. Johanna is agressively investigating an immortal man, Hob is looking forward to being dramatically rescued by his hot supernatural boyfriend. No one but Morpheus has a good time.

OTHER FICS/DRABBLES

Audacity in Human Form related posts (esp the ones that broke containment)

"Oysters have nightmares like this"

"Jokes on you, you're into that shit"

Hob: "no. Shut up. I'm talking now."

Characterization Notes aka: I'm gonna start bullying Morpheus

Other mutterings about writing or snippets are under the tags "#my fic" and "#audacity in human form"

AU Cooking:

I'm honestly better at coming up with every single detail for an AU without actually writing the fic, but I like playing in the sandbox and other people seem to have fun with them too :)

Human!AU. There are kinda two versions of this that I'm starting to meld together.

Red Flags AU post: Hob is hired to be the party ruining messy boyfriend, but cannot begin to compete with the insanity that is the Endless family and the Hot Mess Express Morpheus, who hired him. They fall in love instantly. "Why would I fix him??? He's perfect."

Red Flags AU 2: slight deviation from the OG where everything is the same, except Morpheus' messy friend Johanna accidentally introduces them and instantly regrets it. She did not anticipate Hob reacting to Morpheus' red flags like a charging bull.

Assorted Human!Morpheus facts

Shit-wizard Hob AU: where Hob is still immortal, except Death is his Endless buddy. He first meets Morpheus when trying to take up occultism at Fawney Rig (he's bad at it but is gonna stick around now. For reasons.)

Meta-ish Shitposting:

Hob meets Thessaly. Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend" starts playing ominously in the distance when she doesn't appreciate how much of a needy clingy freak Morpheus is.

Spotify Playlists:

I process Blorbo feelings with hyper specific playlists. Putting Dreamling and other fandom ones here bc I guess it's about time I share more of them

Audacity in Human Form PL: 1h33m fic specific. Set up to alternate Dream/Hob POV. Blatant "2012 fandom brain" indulgence in here.

Hot Mess Endless Express: 1hr45m the general Dream playlist. Not ship specific, all romantic songs are how I just see him in any relationship. Mostly serious, except when it isn't but especially when it isnt

The Devil of Fawney Rig: the playlist I imagine goes in Dreams head when he's stuck in a fishbowl and horny for revenge. Made with the shit-wizard Hob AU in mind

Newton Goes Kaiju All Over Everybody's Ass: 1hr it really is too bad that there was never a second Pacific Rim movie but wow isn't Dark!Geiszler a great concept? 🙃

EDDIE I MADE A PLAYLIST EDDIE: 44m Venom made a playlist for Eddie, isn't that nice?

Mountain Son: 1h30m Bagginshield Thorin feelings ahoy. Made with Mahrâna in mind.

The Bacchae: 1h. The soundtrack for the dream production of the Bacchae in my head. Meant to follow the progression of the play

The Huntress and the Maenad: 1h30m insane sapphic bitch in the woods solidarity

Mysteries: 7+hours!!!!!! The ongoing playlist for joining the cult of Dionysus and eating a billionaire in the woods

#masterpost #look i finally did it

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animebw · 10 months

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Short Reflection: Oshi no Ko

I have a serious bone to pick with Oshi no Ko.

To be clear, I don't mind that Oshi no Ko is s bad show. Bad shows are a dime a dozen, its not special in that regard. I don't even mind that it's a bad show that got absurdly popular. Again, not an uncommon occurrence, I've learned to live with the popular consensus among anime fans being very hit and miss. No, what chaps my hide about this misguided misfire is that it's the worst kind of bad show: one with delusions of grandeur. It's a self-indulgent piece of pandering wish fulfillment that's convinced itself it's a Deep, Complex masterpiece telling Hard Truths about society while perpetuating all the sins it claims to be criticizing. And while it may have somehow pulled the wool over the eyes of everyone else, I've watched enough anime to see through its plastic facade to the squirming rot underneath. This show is lying to you, and unlike the thesis statement it makes in its first episode, this lie is the lowest form of love I can think of.

And I was excited for Oshi no Ko at first! I've always struggled with idol anime because they can never seem to drop their packaged, plastic facade of perfect little angels chasing their dreams to address anything resembling real emotion. So the promise of a more honest take on the genre exploring the reality of the entertainment industry as a whole, warts and all? Written by the author of Kaguya-Sama, which I've finally come around to appreciating as a masterpiece of the rom-com world? And a bonkers 90 minute opening episode suggesting an adaptation that would go all the way to make this series shine? Yeah, I had high hopes for this one.

And then the first minute of the show had two separate jokes about the protagonist being a pedophile.

Gotta tell you, when I heard Manga fans hyping this one up to high heaven, I was expecting something a little less blatantly unsalvageable than that.

After that, I spent most of that bloated first episode in slack jawed disbelief. Was I really sitting through another Mushoku Tensei reincarnated pedo baby plotting? Why was I being subjected to jokes about who gets to suck their teen mom superstar idol's breast milk? It was almost a relief when the same obsessive stalker who initially took the protagonist's life came back to finish off his new mom, setting him and his similarly reincarnated sister on a seemingly much more interesting path. But by then the damage was done, and the cracks that had formed in Oshi no Ko's foundation would only grow larger and more obvious as it settled into its proper story.

Funnily enough, though, the most obvious warning sign in that first episode wasn't the pedo baby nonsense. No, it was its handling of Hoshino Ai, the aforementioned teen mom superstar idol who got two superfans reincarnated as her twin babies before being murdered by a stalker. For a show claiming to portray the dark reality of the entertainment industry, there isn't a single thing dark or real about Ai. She is a relentlessly perfect plastic mannequin of a person, never once showing herself to be anything less than upbeat, bubbly, and inoffensive. Not once in the three years we spend with her before her death do we see her sulk, throw a tantrum, or express any emotions besides peppy and cheerful. If there’s anything resembling a real girl underneath her facade, we don't get to see it, not even when she's alone with her babies with no one to judge her. This show wants to pull back the curtain on the uncomfortable truths of this industry, but it doesn't even have the guts to pull back the curtain on its most important character and risk turning off an otaku fan base who can't conceive of women as complex individuals with complicated inner lives. And sadly, that cowardice is very indicative of how poorly the show will handle its themes moving forward.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Following Ai's death at the climax of the first episode, Oshi no Ko's real story picks up ten or so years later, with her now-teenage children Aqua and Ruby going to a special high school for aspiring entertainment industry professionals. Here they're able to meet fellow creatives and pursue careers in film, television, music, YouTube, and more behind and in front of the camera, all to follow their respective goals of tracking down their mother's killer (Aqua) and following in their mother's footsteps of becoming a beloved idol (Ruby). Thus the stage is set for a walking tour behind the scenes of all corners of the business, exploring the truth behind the shining mask of perfection the entertainment industry so often wears while slowly building up the mystery of who the twins' father was, and why he seemingly arranged for Ai to be killed. A solid setup for the story to explore its ideas in an engaging way, but as always, a setup is only as good as its execution. And no matter how many monologues its characters spew about the true nature of the industry, Oshi no Ko consistently fails to be anything more than plastic and shallow itself.

The biggest issue, sadly, remains Aqua himself. Even after you get over the whole reincarnated pedo baby angle, he is just the most miserably emo edgelord to be around. He's a mopey, brooding bore who looks down on pretty much everyone around him, but the show constantly insists on portraying him as cynically honest, the one clear-eyed adult in a cast full of kids. Which, considering how female-heavy the rest of the cast it, gives the whole show a creepy, paternalistic vibe. So many of Oshi no Ko's "realistic" portrayals of the industry's scumminess essentially boil down to a naive, inexperienced girl getting in over her head and finding herself in some sort of physical or emotional peril, only for this Light Yagami wannabe to swoop in and save her with the power of his Experienced Adult Man Perspective. There are times when it clearly wants to touch on how particularly rough girls and women have it in this scummy, sexist industry, but it undercuts itself every time it turns their struggles into yet another excuse for the one prominent dude in the cast to show off how much smarter he is.

And yes, in case you even needed to ask, of course the majority of these girls fall in love with him. You've got Kana Arima, a foul mouthed former child actor who's implied to have nursed a crush on him ever since he humiliated her on set years ago by being do much naturally better at acting than her to the point she broke down crying. There's Akane Kurokawa, a sincere good girl who falls for him after he saves her from suicide (more on that later) and otherwise exists to be tortured by some of the most laughable backstory retcons ever put to screen (She's an unprepared novice to the industry! Just kidding, she's a member of a prestigious theater company! Just kidding, she's a child actor who's been part of this industry her whole life!). There's even, believe it or not, his sister Ruby, who in her past life was a terminally ill child in love with Aqua's past life, her physician at the time. He even jokingly promised to marry her when she turned 16, which could have passed as a tragic, knowingly futile promise to comfort a girl who had no chance of living that long, but considering how things ended up... yeah, let's just say I am dreading what happens when Aqua and Ruby discover each other's previous identities. Honestly I almost hope they just say "fuck it" and take the plunge into Incest Lake, just to break the brains of everyone who's convinced themselves this show isn't a trash fire.

It also doesn't help that the dialogue is pretty uniformly terrible. Characters speak in tangled, overwritten declarations and explanations that never read as something a real person would say but also aren't stylish enough to pass for the kind of purposefully exaggerated back-and-forth exchanges that define, for example, the Monogatari series. It seems to think if you just drop a lot of monologues about how dangerous and unfair the entertainment industry is, that will compensate for the relative lack of real danger and unfairness in its actual portrayal. I'm not asking for a Perfect Blue-style pitch black perspective, but there are barely even shades of gray here, to the point it almost feels like the show's lying to you. There's a moment where Ruby and her aspiring idol group exclaim that a collective dressing room they share with a bunch of other bottom-tier idols is "packed like sardines," except the room we're shown has plenty of breathing room and empty space. This show flat out lies to your face, in contradiction of the visuals its showing you, to make the girl's situation seen worse than it actually is.

But let's circle back to Akane and get attempted suicide, because her focus episode is, in my opinion, the one moment where Oshi no Ko actually manages to live up to the expectations it set. Short version, Akane's on a reality dating show with Aqua and a bunch of other high schoolers, and her attempt to make herself more of a presence at her manager's request results in her becoming the target on an online hate mob who takes one bad thing she does and uses it as an excuse to harass her relentlessly. As someone who's seen too many stories like this play out in real life- overwhelming, self-righteous hatred from complete strangers who've convinced themselves your one minor infraction justifies ruining your life- seeing Akane succumb to the tidal wave of insults and threats until she tries to jump off a bridge was one of the most powerful experiences I've had in all of anime this year. It's masterfully directed, impeccably edited, and brutally, unforgivingly honest about how life-ruining this kind of negative online attention can be. It's hands-down the best episode of Oshi no Ko, and if the rest of the show had been as brave as this episode when tackling its subject matter, I'd have no problem singing its praises alongside everyone else.

It's also, sadly, a perfect representation of why this show is so fundamentally broken.

Because when you take a step back and look at the whole picture, as incredible as this episode is in isolation, its only real effect on the plot is to give Aqua yet another helpless admirer to fall I love with him seemingly as a matter of course. Akane's suicide attempt, as gut wrenching and heartbreaking as it is in the moment, only exists to give the reincarnated pedo protagonist another teenage girl to fawn over him. And considering how much inspiration this plot line draws from a real-life suicide tragedy in Japan, to call it nauseating and disrespectful would be the understatement of the century. The real victim's mother certainly seemed to think so, as she held an interview expressing anger that her daughter's tragic fate was being used as free source material without even consulting her first. And if you were hoping Oshi no Ko fans would react to this response with empathy and nuance, showing how much they took away from this arc's message about the evils of online harassment by refusing to participate in it themselves... well, let's just say I truly envy your optimism.

But really, isn't that the most fitting representation of this show's failure? It claims to showcase and criticize the exploitative nature of the entertainment industry, only to exploit real life tragedy for entertainment itself, and its fans react to this ugly truth by becoming exactly the kind of evil the show they claimed to love was warning them against. It's a perfect storm of hypocrisy that reveals just how shallow and craven the whole affair is. Oshi no Ko is not deep, it's not complex, and it's certainly not challenging. But it IS good enough at superficially appearing to be those things to attract a fan base that wants the ego boost of being seen as liking Mature(tm) stories about Serious Issues(tm) without actually being challenged to leave their comfort zone of pandering wish fulfillment. And the second something actually challenging does show up to demand they face an uncomfortable truth, they reveal just how unwilling both they and the show they love are to grapple with the ugly reality they claim to represent.

Is that harsh? Definitely. Unfair to the vast majority of Oshi no Ko fans who love the show without being gross and weird about it? Probably. But I can't be honest about this show without being honest about how miserably it betrays the very foundations of its stated goal. Ironically enough, Oshi no Ko is its own worst enemy, the greatest embodiment of everything it's trying to speak out against. It's a stupid show pretending to be smart, a cowardly show pretending to be brave, hiding cheap convictions with cheap edge and cringeworthy harem bullshit in hopes it can avert your eyes from the truth. But peel back that plastic layer of corporate sheen and it's every bit as shallow and hypocritical as the industry it claims to criticize. It's as hollow as Hoshino Ai herself, hiding its inner emptiness as best it can and hoping its beautiful lies will make you love it regardless. And if lies are indeed the greatest form of love, then Oshi no Ko must be the greatest lover of all. Me, though? I'll take something honest and uncompromising over an insincere fake like this any day. And I give this first season a score of:

3/10

Yes, this is the worst show I watched to completion this season. No, I'm not sorry about it. If you want to know what actual good shows I kept up with, keep an eye out for my seasonal reflection coming next week!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #oshi no ko #spring 2023 anime #spring 2023 sr

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blinkpen · 8 months

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Knowing Charlie is triggered by unreality must make the plot where he gets stuck in an alternate reality where everything is different except him suck even MORE than it already does.

it sure does! it's part of why i was like oh shit, a particular one-off entity's shenanigan has given me an excuse to explore exactly one AU in depth within the story itself, like just get IN there, but the trick will only work the once or it DOES become an asspull, so i gotta pick real good, make sure its not just self indulgent nonsense or angst, but something that actually informs the main story and adds to it and its themes, offers insight to characters and just how wild the force of Serendipity can be wrt whose paths crossed and when, yadda yadda, and this one fits that bill, and by george,

it's also one of the few things i can think of that can jumper cable THIS Flat Affect King's nips so good it cracks open his extremely hidden depth just a little a bit for the audience, and he's the character whose Necrin Boosted Nullbeast Immunity to aforementioned entity's Effects would put him in this position. it all falls into place.

this hole torment nexus was made for him

when you gotta learn to reconcile discrepancies in how you perceive reality vs how everyone else seems to even in the insane scenario you're somehow Both correct and now have to trust your own version of your own memories (or what you think of them) when the chips are down or your entire brain is gonna melt right out of your fucking head from the confusion and you won't be able to fix this at all

#ask x #lti timeline au #oc babble #charlie k #jaren #doodles #we don't see LTI char bc regular char has completely displaced him nobody knows where he went #but about the only difference is LTI charlie implied to just be fat instead of fat+muscular combo #also calling back to advice char kept ignoring to develop himself without zoe or he'll regret it in a situation Zoe is Taken Away #or in this case Zoe is here but views you as a doppleganger and haaaates you and is only helping to get the Charlie he DOES know back #[LTI Dem starts doing Actual Dem's I Told You So dance] i'm not sure why i'm doing this. my body seems to be moving involuntarily #Charlie: yeah yeah i get the joke #unreality discussion #i will say he's not triggered by unreality as much it just has the capacity to Affect him it doesnt Trigger until it reaches a certain leve #...safe to say this is that level tho

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sapphire-weapon · 10 months

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Clive, hush. Not only is it appropriate to give you the title of Mythos, but it’s one that you should’ve reclaimed and taken for yourself. In fact, I don’t know why Ultima even gave you that title. It’s kind of like naming a kid “Roger Stabbington” and then being surprised when he says “ok” and stabs people.

FFXVI had a lot of storytelling problems, but one of the issues that stands out the most is the refusal to explain the whole Mythos/Logos thing. There’s ATL entries about them, sure, but they’re kind of the most barebones, reductive explanations as to why those particular words/titles were chosen for Clive.

It’s time for me to put my “I was raised in an obnoxiously Greek family” hat back on once again and -- just as I did with the Hades II trailer -- break down all of the dumb ancient Greek nonsense being thrown at us in a video game.

“Mythos” isn’t actually a word that’s meant to be used as a title. The word “mythos” in and of itself refers to one of two things, depending on how it’s being used:

1. the compilation of folklore around a particular subject. For example, there’s the very famous myth of Hades and Persephone’s marriage, but there’s a whole mythos around the explanation of why seasons exist, and Demeter’s mourning of the loss of her daughter is only part of that mythos.

2. the plot of an ancient Greek tragedy -- just in general. The mythos of the story should have some sort of reversal (either the story starts off with the protagonist in a good place and ends with them in a bad one, or vice versa), and the intention should be to evoke fear or pity from the audience. Aristotle believed that the most tragic of stories were those involving violence between friends and/or family (and who does that sound like?) -- and, the worse the tragedy, the stronger the mythos.

So, to use the word “mythos” as a title implies that the person holding this title carries with them the legends and stories born from the hearts of mankind -- the “reason” behind mankind’s existence -- and then, through great tragedy, will become a legend in and of themselves.

Yeah, that kinda sounds like Clive, doesn’t it?

Ultima’s a fuckin idiot moron for naming him that and then expecting him to become anything else.

Another fun fact about the word “mythos” and how it relates to Greek tragedies, though:

Greek tragedies were historically performed in worship of Dionysus, who was the god of pleasure and indulgence. So, for Clive to be the human embodiment of Mythos, that means that his very existence serves the purpose of exalting carnal pleasure.

Clive Rosfield is actually, literally just personified sex appeal. He, himself is not a walking libido, per se -- but he’s meant to inspire that in everyone around him.

And he kind of does, considering how many characters in-game want to polish his knob.

Anyway. We’re getting off track I WANT HIM TO GIVE ME SADDLE SORES THAT LAST AT LEAST THREE DAYS

The word “logos” is also not meant to be a title -- and, to be completely honest, I don’t feel like it works the way that the devs wanted it to work. Like, it’s fine. It’s serviceable. But it doesn’t exactly fit what Clive becomes the way that Mythos does.

A more modern interpretation of what the word “logos” means would probably be The Discourse(TM). Logos is the use of logic and reason to explain the nature of the world and mankind’s role in it. Aristotle basically thought of logos as being the thing that sets humans apart from animals -- it’s our sense of self and our ability to think objectively enough to create an actual moral compass.

So, basically, by calling Clive “Logos” Ultima’s just saying he’s attained free will and learned to think rationally on his own -- but that’s also a very basic bitch way of thinking about logos as a concept.

And it’s not as clean of a fit for him as Mythos is, considering that it wasn’t exactly Clive’s sense of self that got him to where he was (he spends like 85% of the game wondering what his purpose is), nor did his attainment of power have anything to do with rational, logical thinking. In fact, the game even goes out of its way to say that Clive is being held up by the faith of those who believe in him, which, I mean --

sure, if you also take into account the whole “Jesus Christ is thought of as being logos incarnate” thing, but like. Then that pulls away from the whole ancient Greek philosophy thing happening and goes into a different metaphor entirely, and everything just gets really muddy.

There are some scholars who believe that the concepts of mythos and logos aren’t mutually exclusive -- and, in fact, that logos actually grew out of mythos. The idea was that people started looking at the myths that they were using and started to apply logic and reason to them in order to get a more nuanced view of the world. But like...

In XVI, mankind started with rational thought when they realized that God (the God that they knew existed and were not just making up as myths) had abandoned them, and then they joined together as a community to create their own image for the world through their use of mythos.

So, I really think the game got it backwards. Clive wasn’t Mythos who became Logos. He was Logos who became Mythos.

But like. Gold star for trying.

I’M JUST SAYING THAT CLIVE HAVING THE TITLE OF “MYTHOS” IS REALLY FUCKING HOT AND EVERY TIME SOMEONE CALLS HIM THAT MY PULSE QUICKENS BECAUSE HE IS LITERALLY SHOULDERING THE HOPES AND DREAMS OF MANKIND AS THE EMBODIMENT OF THE POWER OF HUMAN CREATIVITY IN SERVICE TO A SEX RITUAL

#final fantasy xvi #clive rosfield #ffxvi spoilers #meta analysis

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stardusthuntress · 8 months

Text

A Gala-ctic Evening (Part 2)

ARC Echo x AFAB!reader

(Part 1)

Word Count: ~6k (hehehehehe! Here there be pure smut, friends!)

Summary: Echo and the classic ‘night at the gala’ trope, continued. What a fun way to start a relationship with a sweet, flirty trooper like Echo. Corporal, ‘fix it all and flirt the whole way’ is your date for tonight, and he’s more than ready to take it all the way!

TW: Again, 100% pure smut! PiV (wrap it before you tap it irl kids), pull out method (not advised irl), orals (f receiving), reader is a bit self-conscious of her own body (Echo does his best to reassure her), Echo being flirty and confident because he knows the reality of yolo

A/N: who needs plot when you’ve got a man like Echo! No minors allowed! 18+ only! Purely self-indulgent. Echo can have the exact same kinds of love that the other boys can! And with a man as confident and dedicated as Echo, why would you want anyone else! This is also the first time I've written and posted actual smut... I hope you like it!

Echo dividers by @/djarrex, hyperspace banners are my own

Now at the hotel for the night, the pair continue to let their hearts dance closer and closer.

“I never did get a chance to ask you to dance, my Starlight.” Echo offers, tugging her heels from her hand, dropping them in a chair, and returning his hands to her waist.

“I’m no good at dancing,” she mutters, slightly nervous and put out.

“Nonsense, it’s just a chance to hold you close, skill doesn’t matter to me. Here,” he scoops up her hand and twirls her on the spot.

“See? Easy, I’ll lead, just hold on to me. Besides,” he leans closer, to whisper mischeviously in her ear, “there’s no one here to watch, and I don’t have any skill at it either. I just want an excuse to hold you close and see your radiant joy again.”

She giggles and hides in his shoulder.

His arms settle loosely around her waist, and he ever so gently coaxes her to sway and move around the room in small circles.

She relaxes a bit, nuzzling into his shoulder instead of hiding in it.

Echo steals a moment to place a soft kiss on her hair as they sway and swirl around the room.

She raises her head, a dreamy look in her eyes as they dart between meeting his and stealing glances at his lips.

Their steps slow as their focus shifts, neither is sure when exactly their feet stop moving and they stand still, only that it means their lips meet in a dance of their own.

After a moment, they break apart to stare deep into each other’s eyes.

“My Starlight,” Echo whispers. Her attention is drawn to his lips, and the nervousness reappears.

“Oops, maybe I should take the makeup off before it makes a mess of us both.”

Echo smirks, “if that’s what you want.” He’s eager to see her face without all the getup again. Just her, the way he’s most familiar with her everyday in her armor. The way he’s dreamed of her late at night when everyone is asleep.

She tugs him into the bathroom to clean the lipstick that transferred onto him, then reluctantly ushers him out so they can both change into something a little more comfortable.

She takes off the makeup, and lets her hair loose, then needs help with the dress.

And he’s sitting on the bed with his bow tie undone and shirt unbuttoned and untucked. Belt draped over a nearby chair atop his jacket.

As she reappears in the fresher doorway, he can tell she’s a little self conscious after taking the makeup off.

But Echo looks up with a relieved smile and instantly compliments how nice it is to see the real her without the makeup.

“It was nice to be considered pretty for once”, she says.

But Echo prefers her without makeup, and made it his business to tell her as much. “You don’t need it, I finds her natural beauty even more stunning without it.” His tone and eyes reflecting his genuine nature.

Though, for now he keeps to himself how the dark color of her lipstick had made him aware of the finer details of how her lips moved that he hadn’t noticed before. But he was even more entranced watching those movements without the lipstick now. Knowing that he, and he alone could see those subtleties in the way she moved and the expressions she made.

She doesn’t know how to respond, so instead she turns her attention back to getting the dress off. Besides, he’s made her a little hot and bothered now, perhaps he’s earned a chance to see her with a little less on?

Then she turns, shifts her hair so she can still see him, and directs him to the fasteners on the dress.

His scomp sits on her waist, anchoring them to each other.

That’s when he notices she’s still wearing the belt.

He tenderly traces the belt around her waist, peering over her shoulder, careful not to look down her top, just to find the clip with his handprint on it. One finger slips beneath the belt so he can grip the clip with one hand, and he unfastens it.

As the belt slips away from her hips, he lifts the clip higher so he can look at it. He rests his chin on her shoulder, and rubs his thumb over the handprint shape. He’s dying to know how she found out about his symbol from his old unit. Or if it’s merely a coincidence? It can’t be, it’s too well coordinated with his old color. But that’s a question for later. Right now, he just wants her.

Instead he simply raises an eyebrow and shifts his eyes to her, to ask if she knew what the symbol meant to him. Her cheek brushes against his and she shyly looks away, smiling at the floor. So she did know. Well, it worked like a charm. His heart was already hers, but everything that happened tonight simply solidified that.

So he presses a kiss into her cheek, and squeezes her tight before reluctantly leaning back to look for the fastener of the dress.

He finds the fastener on the back of one hip, and places his hand over it. He leans forward again, his lips near her ear to ask a quiet, “May I?” While pressing another kiss into her cheek.

Her cheeks warm, and she smiles, nodding.

This time he simply rotates one shoulder back to examine the clasp, keeping as much of their bodies in contact as he can. What do ya know, the clasp is easy to undo with one hand, and the dress begins to unravel, exposing her back to him.

He can’t help but brush his knuckles against the soft skin of her back on it’s way back up to her shoulder, but his hand never quite reaches her shoulder…

“Don’t stop” she whispers, eyes drifting closed.

She can feel his breath on her neck as he takes a moment to prepare himself, then allows the tips of his fingers to ghost over her skin. He adds one finger at a time, each one feather light and smooth. His fingers find the edges of the exposed skin, but respectfully avoid dancing beyond the limit of what he can see.

Her brow furrows, but her eyes remain closed. She hums, searching for a way to tell him what she is hoping for. “Like you did in the gardens,” she manages as the back of his fingers continue to glide across her skin.

“Like this?” He checks, allowing his ring finger and pinky to slip beneath the fabric hanging loosely from her shoulders.

“Yes!” she breathes. He’s happy to see her brow is no longer creased.

“If that’s what you wish, My Starlight, then you shall have it.” The press of his hand becomes a little more firm, as his palm flattens against her and explores around her back. Slipping to her shoulders, he massages a bit, then finds his fingers already under the straps there. Using his thumb, he hesitantly pushes the strap off of his fingers a bit.

“What if we—?“ he begins, starting to push the strap off of her shoulder just a bit.

She can only nod and relax her shoulder, allowing him to slip it off a little easier.

Echo is sure he’s fallen asleep and is in the middle of the best kind of dream. She’s letting him remove her clothes!

He ever so gently slips his scomp link around her beneath the now loose material and runs the cold metal up her side to her shoulder. She gasps in pleasure and shivers again! Echo is in heaven.

“Would you allow me to remove this one too?” He queries, scomp holding steady near her shoulder, but ready to retract it should she say no. “I won’t take it personally if you say no, Sweetheart. I promise,” He whispers. Consent means everything to this man. He knows first hand what it is like to not get a say in something to be done to his own body and would never inflict that upon anyone.

“Don’t stop now,” her breathy voice does things to him, he discovers.

Slow enough that she could easily stop him if she changed her mind, he eases the strap off her shoulder and lets the fabric fall to the floor, pooling like stars reflected in a lake at her feet.

He holds his breath, realizing there’s no binder strap at her back nor shoulders.

She shifts a bit, arms covering her chest, and he can tell it’s from nerves. So he immediately jumps into action, doing everything he can think of to soothe her mind.

He leans forward and presses his lips to the back of her neck, and she gasps. It’s music to his ears.

His scomp arm returns to her waist, wrapping delicately around her front, and pulling her back to his chest. His other arm doing the same, but angled upwards at the elbow, across her chest, wrist happily settling between her breasts, hand sliding into place along her collarbone, just below the spot where her shoulder meets her neck.

Meanwhile, his lips leave more and more open-mouthed kisses down her neck and trailing across her shoulders.

She tilts her head to one side, exposing her neck to him, and he rewards her communicative nature with more passionate kisses, pressing her firmly into his chest, hand beginning to wander towards her breasts.

Finally he breaks away from kissing and sucking on her neck to look down at her body, exposed for his eyes only!

“Oh, Mesh’la!” He croons in her ear, she can feel him shiver as his eyes light up, hand finding her breast and squeezing a bit. “You are a sight for sore eyes!”

She clings to his arm at her waist, her other arm snaking behind her to the back of his neck

“Echo!” She breathes.

Echo’s restraint finally snaps. Stars, does he want her! Desperately!

His lips immediately return to her neck, this time finding that spot just beneath her ear. Renewed vigor driving every move as he groans into her, squeezing her to him, and sucking harder as she moans at his ministrations.

She whimpers, knees getting shaky.

He feels her trembling in his arms, and stops, but only to scoop her off her feet and carry her bridal style to the bed, sitting her upright in the middle of it. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart.” And he kisses her with everything he has, hand on her cheek, as he begins to crawl over her onto the bed, supporting her weight as he gently lowers her back, maneuvering himself between her legs.

Her hands cup his face, and she presses the kisses back, matching his passion and then some. Grasping at the untied bow tie again, she uses it as extra leverage to keep his lips in contact with hers as he hovers over her, one knee between hers.

He can feel the tingle of excitement racing through his body as the kisses become more and more desperate. His tongue exploring her mouth like nothing else exists. And his thigh, his real, flesh and blood thigh pressing into her core. He can feel her warmth, and her wetness through her panties as she presses back.

He begins to lower his body weight onto her, but is almost too careful not to let the weight of his metal limbs rest on her.

She breaks the kiss to smile and giggle a little. Echo can’t help but watch as she radiates joy.

“Love,” her half-lidded eyes, framed with her laughter find his own, “you can put your whole weight on me. All of you. You know damn well I am not delicate.”

“You shouldn't have to bear the weight of my alterations, pun intended.” He smirks.

She giggles. “As much as I love that you’re getting your sense of humor back, Hun, I’m not afraid of your alterations. I love them too. After all, they allowed us to meet. I am grateful, change doesn’t have to be a bad thing. We can decide if we want to make it into a good thing. It isn’t easy, and it takes a lot of hard work, but you won’t be alone for it. I’ll be right here. I rather like laying under you, Love.”

Echo chuckles nervously, tucking his head into her shoulder. Doing his best to make sure his headgear doesn’t end up in her face when he does so. The last thing he wants is to let any of his metal parts become the reason she gets a black eye.

He’s still partially hovering over her. His weight on his elbows on either side of her. Hips against hers, his thigh still pressed to her core. But his eyes are drawn down towards their hips when he feels her shifting beneath him. Ready to lift the awkward weight of his prosthesis off of her as soon as he can figure out which one is bothering her. But what he sees is not what he expected to see.

Slowly, sensually, her foot arches as she uses it to stroke up his thigh, over the seam between metal and man, over his ass, and around to rest her calf on the small of his back, using her calf to press his ass down. Encouraging him to put his full weight on her.

Echo groans, still next to her ear, allowing his eyes to fall shut, too aroused to do anything else. And the vision he’s met with is one he hopes he never forgets. The arch of her foot, pressed into the muscle of his leg. Her ankles at the same angle he’d noticed when he first saw her in heels when the night was only just beginning.

He’s drawn from his reverie, eyes popping open, when he feels her other foot beginning the same journey up his other leg.

Echo can only watch, wide eyed, and feel. Man oh man can he feel it! As she latches her ankles behind his hips, and tugs his full weight onto her, he starts to melt for her. He allows his legs to flatten so he can feel every inch of her, by her own volition, pressed tightly against every inch of skin he had left.

Her hands sneak up his back, under his unbuttoned shirt. Slowly, giving him a chance to say no if he wanted. But he has no reason to protest any of it. With one hand at his lower back, and one hand between his shoulder blades, she urges the rest of him down onto her body.

He lets his elbows slide out, until he can no longer feel the cool air between them, only the warmth of her. Only the softness of her skin as he nuzzles into her neck. He shifts his real arm so he can pet her hair, but finds himself momentarily stalled when he realizes he can feel her nipples against his chest. He wants to look down, to see her finally exposed to him. But first he needs to see the look in her eyes, make sure she’s still happy with this choice now that his full weight is on her.

So his eyes flick up, to find her eyes so much more full of love than he ever expected anyone could ever feel towards him.

His hand finally makes it to her hair, stroking it. And then moving to brush the back of his knuckles against her cheek.

A flash of mischief crosses her eyes briefly, and she manages to catch his knuckles with a kiss.

Echo’s own smile brightens. And he finds his eyes already tracing her lips, before he gives in and presses her into the bed with a kiss. Pushing harder into her with every second that passes.

She licks at his lips this time, opening his mouth, and searching for his tongue.

Echo obliges with a moan, his tongue surging forward to meet hers.

Teeth clash as both tongues search deeper, wanting to know every inch of each other.

With a final suck on her tongue, Echo pulls back to gaze into her eyes. His need to confirm that he’s still got it. The hunger in her eyes, all he needs to keep going.

Then his kisses trail down her neck

All the way to her breasts

The way she tends to subtly cover her chest tells him she’s not very confident about her breasts, so he decides to spend a little extra time pouring his love into them.

She begins to mewl beneath him, her arms and legs clinging tightly to him. He’s impressed by the strong grip of her legs, giving away how much she loves him.

So he sucks harder, and licks slower, and plays longer.

Her hand moves to the back of his neck, holding him to her breast, telling him without words how much she enjoys the way he’s loving on her.

He begins to squeeze and knead her other breast, and lets a few fingers just barely brush over her nipple.

Her legs get impossibly tighter around him.

He pulls back, all but gasping for air, and cursing the fact that he needs air at all. His face turns to the breast that only received the attention of his hand, and she can feel his breath against her skin as he suddenly lowers back down to even out his love-making, now pouring his devotion into this side.

His hand slides down her hip, until he finds the waistband of her underwear, and begins to play with the hemline that rests on her hip while he continues to lavish her breasts.

She rests her hand over his to encourage him to keep it there.

He can feel the growing wetness in her underwear as it rubs on his abdomen.

Echo chuckles, the vibrations from his laugh doing a number on her breast. They’re both groaning now.

His hand traces the hemline of her panties around the curve of her leg and towards the spot that’s aching for him.

She huffs in protest when the soft touch on her hip slips away for a second. That is, until she bucks her hips upwards again, and finds his palm waiting to cup her core through her panties.

His fingers rest near the waistband, his palm sits where she wants it most.

One of her hands still cups the back of Echo’s head, the other now holds his hand against her sex, so she can buck against it repeatedly.

Echo begins to break away from her breasts so he can look down and begin to allow his fingers to dance along the skin on either side of the panties.

He still can’t believe this is real. She’s nearly naked in front of him, using his own hand to massage parts of her so private he thought he’d only see them in his dreams.

He’s breathing heavy, moaning with each thrust of her pelvic bone against his hand. His tallest finger begins to ever so slightly tug the waistband of her panties down. He almost doesn't even notice his thumb beginning to slide under the fabric too.

“Yes, Echo!” She breaths, head thrown back.

“May I… remove them?” He asks, hesitantly, as though any words will shatter the moment.

“Please!” She’s doing her best to refocus her eyes on his face, but he’s rather proud she’s already so infatuated with what he’s doing. She’s breathing heavily as she gasps out, “just rip them off, Love, I have no intention to unwrap my legs, if you’re alright with that.”

He looks up at her, pressing his palm against her core, meeting her thrust for thrust. “Are, uhh… are you sure?” He whispers, “This lace is really pretty on you. I’d hate to ruin something I’d love to see on you again.”

She laughs. “I’ll get more, I promise. Maybe even a complete set next time,” she winks, “but I need to feel you inside me!” She takes a breath before continuing, “use your scomp to rip through them, please!” No longer caring how desperate she sounded.

“Yes, Ma’am!” He breathes. How can he deny her when she begs so pretty! And, she’d so willingly accepted his metal parts without even thinking about it. Echo felt himself falling harder for her with every passing second together.

She props herself up on her elbows to watch, as Echo finally wraps his fingers under the gentle lace, to lift it from her skin. He takes a second to admire the soft patterns before bringing his scomp to the lace and brrrrrrrrrrrrr-ing right through the fabric just above each leg.

He looks up at her, still in disbelief that he just ripped the panties off his partner on their first night together. Only to find her biting her lip as she watches him.

She leans forward, cupping his cheek in her hand and kissing him so deeply, he forgets he’s still holding the shreds of her underwear. Right up until he feels them getting tugged from his hand.

He looks down to see her stuff it into the back pocket of his pants. His wide-eyes return to hers, a hopeful question in them.

“Keep them, Love. And maybe you can help me pick out the next pair,” she says with a kiss to his cheek.

He feels a shiver race down his spine as he surges forward to press another passionate kiss to her lips. But when her wetness touches his abdomen, with no barrier this time, he breaks the kiss in a gasp.

“Oooooh, that feels good!” He moans, reaching between them to once again cup her core with his palm, but this time without the hindrance of that last layer of fabric.

“Echo! It does, I agree, but I need you inside me!!”

Infatuated with her, and how much he loves her, he swallows hard, then licks his lips, focusing all his attention on her lower lips and starts to finger her, tracing her lower lips torturously slowly, dragging it out.

One finger slides down either side of the labia, opening the labia and running a finger up the inside, one on each side and then together back down the middle, pressing into her ever so slightly. Dipping inside a teasing amount, and letting his fingers explore her inner folds. Teasing her entrance, Before a finger slips slowly inside.

Her back arches for a moment as she groans with wild abandon, and he catches a nipple in his mouth.

Slowly, sensually, he pulls his fingers out, and ever more slowly pushes them back in, once, twice.

And then he feels it. That spongy spot, deep within her. He adds pressure to that spot, wiggling his fingers in tiny swirling movements as he does so.

Her back arches almost immediately, tugging her nipple from his mouth with a pop, and her noises become even more desperate and needy.

“There it is,” he whispers, watching her face as he pulls out and inserts a second finger with the first this time, before continuing to massage her g spot.

The room explodes into white ribbons of hyperspace behind her eyelids as she clings to Echo as tightly as her fingers will allow.

Echo’s hand is coated in her wetness, and he can feel her walls tugging him deeper in before losing their rhythm and fluttering around his fingers.

When she cries out, he starts to slow his pace, massaging her through it, and coaxing her back to the here and now.

When she opens her eyes, she finds his forehead against her own, eyes watching for hers with rapt attention.

“That’s it, I’m here, my Starlight. Dank ferrik that was hot!”

When she blushes and giggles he knows she’s returned from hyperspace and slowly extracts his fingers.

She gasps at the empty feeling, but watches with rapt attention as he brings his fingers directly to his mouth. His eyes practically rolling back and closing as he indulges in the taste of her, sucking every last drop from his own digits.

She begs him to put something back inside her. Fingers, tongue, cock, even his scomp (though she doubts he’s ready for that); any of them, as long as he’s iniside her.

“I don’t think my manhood works anymore, Love.” Echo finally voices his concern, rather ashamed he didn’t say it before they started. What if she rejects him now? He’s not sure he can take that.

Instead she giggles. “Maybe only a partner has the right tools for the job now,” she whispers against his headgear. “And you’re still wearing too much.” She’s already begun to peel the shirt from his shoulders. Once it’s on its way to the floor, she moves to unbutton and unzip his pants.

It’s all Echo can do to steady his breathing and watch, wide-eyed, as she pulls the clothes from his body faster than he expected.

Once they’re both nude, she flips him onto his back, and grinds down on him.

He grips her hips as tightly as he dares, not hesitating to groan loudly with every swirl of her hips.

Happily watching from below as she massages his length with her wetness. Surprised as he begins to feel himself growing and getting hard beneath her.

Maybe she was right!

She smiles as she begins to feel it too.

Echo revels in the feeling of finally having her most intimate parts in contact with his own, still amazed that this is real. As her hips swivel over his own he lets his gaze wander lovingly over her body.

He finds his attention drawn to her breasts again. His boldness growing, he asks if he can suck on her nipple.

She complies without hesitation, leaning down to deposit one into his open mouth. Relishing the feeling of him licking and sucking every inch of it.

“Echo!” She whispers.

He detaches, wide eyes finding hers immediately, mind very hazy from everything she’s doing to him.

“I need you,” she gasps, hips still swivelling on his. “I need you.”

Echo’s restraint snaps with a thrust of his hips, and he flips her onto her back with gusto. She squeaks in surprise, but her eyes tell him she’s excited. He looks down, and finds himself surprised at how much of himself she’s managed to coax out of hiding.

He looks back up at her with excitement as he lines himself up, searching her expression for any hesitation.

Instead she smirks at him and bites her lip, and he feels her leg around his hips, adding just enough pressure to start slipping inside.

Their breaths pick up, but their gaze holds steady, caught in the trance of each other as he slowly slides into place.

He’s certain that her determination to hold his gaze and the way she gasps while staring deep into his eyes is the hottest thing he’s ever seen!

Once in, they both hold still for a moment. Eyes and mouths conveying a thousand feelings their words cannot express while they gasp for breath and sneak kisses and nibbles.

He shivers, and she clenches around him, making him moan and involuntarily thrust.

“I’m not gonna last long, my Starlight,” he gasps out, “can I move?”

“Not yet… need a minute… been awhile,” she mumbles between breaths, clutching him tighter.

After a few deep breaths, her chest heaves a little less, and he raises his eyebrows, touching his forehead to hers. A silent question.

A mischievous spark lights her eyes, and she locks her ankles together behind him, biting her lip, and shaking her head, no. “Let’s enjoy this for a bit,” she teases.

They lay there, eyes also locked together, beginning to pant again. This time with the effort of not moving.

There was only one thing she knew for certain, only one thought reverberating around the inside of her head: he felt so good inside her!

When she clenched again, Echo’s eyes squeezed shut, and his head moved to the crook of her neck as he groaned in her ear.

“Dank ferrik, Love,” he was shaking with the effort of holding still now, “not sure… I can… take much more…”

As a means of agreement, she began to move her hips in small circles.

With a loud moan of ecstasy, Echos arms tightened around her, securing her to him with all his strength, “C-Can I? Please?” He didn’t even try to hide the desperation in his voice.

“YES!”

And with that he began thrusting to meet her hips with a feral energy.

His open mouth finding hers, tongues almost instantly seeking companionship to cling to and massage.

Within moments both were struggling to keep their rhythm.

Echo’s lips break from hers with a gasp.

“Where?” She could hear him holding back, but barely.

“Outside of me,” was all she could manage.

Barely two thrusts later, and Echo hastily pulled out, careful to only paint her abdomen from the outside.

She gasped when he removed himself, instantly missing the feeling of him.

Even at the pinnacle of his climax, he knew she hadn’t finished yet. So he replaced his cock with two fingers.

Barely in control of his own limbs, his fingers thrust in rather quickly.

But the way she arched and let out a high pitched squeak next to the ear wells in his headset was almost enough to make him cum again as his length dances across his own mess on her stomach. His fingers search for the elusive spot inside her, as her moans serenade him with each shift of a finger inside her.

He curls his fingers inside her, and her moans go up an octave.

Echo smirks, an idea on the tip of his tongue, and he shifts his weight.

The world around her is a blur, but she’s aware of Echo’s movement beside her and inside of her, until he suddenly pulls out.

She sits up with a gasp. She wasn’t done yet. But the scene she’s met with is better than she expected.

Echo, still smirking and watching her no doubt disheveled expressions with rapture, is arranging her legs on his shoulders, his hot breath dancing over the spot where she needs him the most.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you there. Just lie back, my Starlight.” He whispers, inching closer to her wetness with each word. He holds her gaze for a moment and then dives in, eyes still fixed on her face. He licks a long stripe up the expanse of her slit and watches as she throws her head back in ecstasy with a loud moan.

He pulls back slightly to give her a moment to breathe, only to blow gently across her wetness. She squirms, hands searching for his in the sheets.

Ever the perceptive ARC, he spots the way her hands feel for his, and he captures her fingers between his before diving in for more.

He licks up and down, and lets his tongue dip in and out. Her whimpers serenade his every move and her legs tremble on his shoulders. She’s close now. He can feel it.

So he exchanges his tongue for two fingers and latches onto her clit, sucking hard.

White hot stars explode in her mind's eye, as she loses all control of her rhythm, fluttering around his fingers for a second time. Her hips tighten around his hand and shoulders, and her nails rake his back.

He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, grounding her, and working her through her climax as her body begins to relax, still wrapped tightly around him. He glances down to remove his fingers, enjoying the sight of them both coated in each other’s release. But his eyes quickly return to hers, and he moves back up to cuddle her, keeping close watch until her eyes focus on his again and her breathing returns to a normal level.

“How was that, my Starlight?” He asks with a giddy laugh.

Her eyes narrow playfully, she’s still panting just a touch. “Was that your first time since… uh…?”

“Yeah,” he laughs nervously, tucking his nose into her neck, careful as his headgear nears her face.

“STARS, Echo! You must have a lot more experience than I do!” She starts to get a bit nervous.

He scoops her into his arms, holding her close.

“Not experience, dreams. Dreams of all the things I’d heard my brothers say worked well that I wanted to try, a few ideas of my own, and a handful of things that that outfit you wore tonight made me want to do. Dank Ferrik, I might need you to wear it again sometime, you looked amazing!”

“Need, huh?” She asks, somewhere between eager and curious.

He laughs, slightly embarrassed, and then takes a breath and just embraces it, “Yeah, need.” He declares, eyes bright with a fire she’d only dreamed she could ever find.

She giggles, and he decides that all the noises she’s made tonight just made the top of the list of all his favorite sounds in the galaxy.

They hold each other close for a few moments, until she shives slightly.

“Let me clean us up, my Starlight. No, you stay right there. I want to do this for you.”

She relaxes back into the bed and just watches as he disappears into the fresher and reemerges with a soft, wet towel which he proceeds to use to gently wipe between her legs and then absorb his own mess from her abs.

They chit chat as he drops the towel off the side of the bed in his rush to feel her skin against his own again, wrapping them both in the sheets. His hand runs slowly up and down her back, coaxing her to sleep on him, more content than he, a trooper designed and raised for combat, has ever known before.

Echo shifts, becoming aware of the world around him again, and snuggling into the soft warmth in his arms. He opens his eyes to find the gorgeous woman he’s been pining over for the longest time still wrapped in his arms, legs tangled with his, contentment on her sleeping face.

He watches her for a moment, the soft light in the room making her look like the ethereal Angels from the Moons of Iago.

She seems to sense his alertness and tries to find her way back to the land of the waking, brow furrowing.

Hmm, Echo finds himself needing to fix the discontent of her expression, so he covers her in a barrage of kisses. She wakes with a giggle.

They lay there chatting for a few minutes, enjoying the lack of needing to be anywhere for a while.

A few more unhurried kisses later, they decide to get up to make the most of the morning before their ride gets there.

So they start their morning routines, but this time with a lot more sweet touches and long gazes than usual.

He exits the bathroom to find her wearing his shirt from the night before, with her lack of any undergarments peeking out beneath it, totally unbuttoned in the front, barely hiding anything, and is instantly aroused again.

Offers her a hand with a smirk, and pulls her to him when she takes it, beaming at her.

Both his hand and scomp slip underneath the shirt to wrap around her waist, and she smiles radiantly back. So he kisses her, and pins her to the wall, hard but gentle, like there’s no tomorrow. Slipping a leg between hers, he aches to feel her wetness on his own skin again. Her knee sensually slides up his leg to wrap around his waist. Still barely believing last night was real, Echo’s hand moves to her thigh, gripping it tightly. They still have a little while until Crosshair arrives to pick them up, plenty of time… for round two. After all, they are both still in need of a long, hot shower…

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

Taglist: (I gathered some of these from the reblogs and comments, I hope that's ok! If you want me to take you off the list just dm me!) @amorfista (I promised it would be up soon! Hehe!) @the-hexfiles @starrylothcat @daimyosprincess @miss-mouse99

#a gala-ctic evening #tbb echo x reader #tbb arc echo x reader #arc echo x reader #arc echo tbb x reader #tcw arc echo x reader #tcw echo x reader #zenith writes

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andthedaysthatnevercame · 2 months

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Literally so true about the “fun little limbo” of 11/amy! the way there is this weird cognitive dissonance in fandom where on the one hand people moan about the love triangle and how unlikeable Amy was by cheating on Rory etc. yet simultaneously it’s sacrilege to think 11/amy is valid on account of the adultery. people are driven by purity politics rather than engaging with the text ergo we must go with the party line that Amy only ever loves Rory because it “redeems” her (boo hiss) whereas the alternative is immoral. (I’d be willing to bet this was a real note from the network/execs once Amy got married - “no more infidelity because it makes your female lead unlikeable”. the subtext is still there but they almost certainly had to tone it down).

On this point, you’re right we never see Amy *getting over* the doctor — on her wedding day she STILL wants to make out with him and interrupts the party to remember him back into existence. this was portrayed as more significant than her actual wedding! (in both the Big Bang and TWORS she can’t remember Rory when he’s in front of her, but she remembers the doctor when he’s not even there.) Yet 2 episodes later when Rory thinks her love declaration is for the doctor she’s like “what, him??!!” As though this is a ridiculous idea when it’s literally based on *all her previous behaviour*!

I think the fandom denial of 11amy is also based on the fact that the writers were too subtle about 11’s feelings apparently. we are supposed to think he plausibly reciprocates river’s love when he is nonsensically cruel towards her and straight up says he doesn’t want to marry her, yet it’s somehow ridiculous to think he may have feelings for Amy based on his behaviour of trusting her completely, placing her opinion of him above all else, acting generally insane/fixated, etc. also, from a storytelling perspective the triangle holds no weight if the doctor is indifferent! it’s established from the beginning that Amy must choose between him and Rory, and at the end 11 begs her to choose him but by then it’s too late. The entire tragedy of this and 11’s behaviour makes no sense if he doesn’t reciprocate; it is SUPPOSED to be a doomed love story!! Anyway thank you for indulging my asks, i am insane about them.

this is why this rewatch has been so fun for me, because i wasn't sure if my hazy memories from a decade ago were an accurate depiction of what happened in the show or if i was clouded by 11/amy nostalgia and like. they're actually just like that. 11/amy had so much more of a complicated and multifaceted relationship than people usually talk about. they want the whole 11amyrory dynamic to be so simple and easy to digest but it's just not!

in my eyes the infidelity makes amy MORE of a likeable character and they should have leaned HARDER into it

the amyrory wedding was so not about rory at all. we don't see the ceremony, we literally only see amy crying and bringing the doctor back into existence. the amyrory wedding is literally an 11amy reaffirmation. amy made a public declaration of love on that day and it was not for rory lmao.

and the whole s6e2 "it's not him, it's you" speech is so fucking about the doctor its insane. they literally made an episode about how the doctor thinks it ought to be rory (s7e1). and the reason why they even had to do a divorce plot between them is that the only thing interesting about amyrory is amy's conflicting desire. the love triangle is literally all they have. they are at their best with "the core of our relationship is i love you more than you love me" (and amy's whole i can't give you children i gave you up is sickening btw)

and i literally cant speak on 11river anymore. literally my madonna-whore complex post that's all i have to say about the matter for the rest of time.

#theyre sooooo textually interesting #11amy was true and real my visions told me #mailbox

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frstcorinthians · 2 months

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fic writer ask !

thank youuu @almost-a-class-act !!

How many works do you have on AO3? just six! i haven't been posting for long

What's your total AO3 word count? roughly 48.6k

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. graveyard shift - which still surprises me lmfao it's the oldest one i have so i guess it makes sense?? the people are clamoring for fun retail worker content 2. cowboy cassanova - i still dont think i spelled that correctly. alas. jake seresin nation rise up 3. rest your head one more time - and here comes rooster with the steel chair! 4. maybe everything that dies someday comes back - i Will get this to the number one spot its literally the best thing ive ever written and ive barely started 5. angels that have no place - coming in clutch, my most recent fic

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? YESSS i love them i always reply they make my heart very full

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? i think the answer has to be the half-dozen ive left fully unfinished. nothing more depressing than that

What the fic you've written with the happiest ending? probably angels, given that it's the only one i actually finished. winning by default, it would seem

Do you write crossovers? i don't currently but there's still time. i'm not opposed to it!! i just havent gotten around to it yet

Have you ever received hate on a fic? nope! there's still time

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i do lmfao i don't think its very good?? but its usually surrounded by at least a semblance of plot

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not yet. there'd better not be time for this one.

Have you ever had a fic translated? no, unfortunately!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? also no but....if anyone's out there......

What's your all-time favorite ship? OH MANNNN i don't even know

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? rosary-strung, my weird nonsensical self-indulgent sandman fic. maybe once season 2 comes out i'll get sucked back into it? it needs some serious reshaping and revision to make it make sense at all, though

What are your writing strengths? i think i'm good at describing feelings! i think i tend to use weirdly specific metaphors and sensations when i describe them, so i think it sticks in the mind well.

What are your writing weaknesses? i'm bad at getting everything i'm thinking/picturing out onto the page, as in i'll make some jumps that make sense to me because i can see the whole picture in my head, but i forget to put them down onto paper, so the reader is like "what..just happened"

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i wouldn't dare, unless it's like a canonical thing a character does? like if its a term of endearment or something, that's a thing real people i know in real life do sometimes, so it wouldn't seem so out of place i think.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? wayyyy back when in elementary school i wrote REAMS of h*rr* p*tt*r fanfiction. in my defense i was in north carolina and ten.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? the pacific! i'm finally watching it now and there's a lot more to chew on and wrestle with, which is...maybe not a thing for fic to do; or maybe it's the thing only fic can do. we'll see. also mota because some ocs have wandered into my mind and won't leave. they also won't pay rent help

What's your favorite fic you've written? my nebraska fic, hands down. its my baby my everything my darling my firstborn. i love her and she loves me.

i will humbly tag @venus-haze @blood-mocha-latte @shoshiwrites and @latibvles !! if you've already been tagged my apologies it's late late late in north carolina

#aleks.txt #whew this one was a doozy and also a fun trip down memory lane #aleks.chat

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strawberrycola · 1 month

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hello. i made a very long, very indulgent addition to the sam and max subreddit post earlier, and decided to make it its own post because i had way too many thoughts for a reblog. and the idea of clogging notes was eating away at my brain like mice eat a cheese. this is mostly just train of thought, so i apologise if it's complete nonsense. i've just thought a lot about sam and max's relationship, and the connection lgbt (and neurodivergent, for that matter) fans have had to the series, from my perspective since i was like 8. obviously that's gonna be tinted thru a tumblr lens, because ftmp that's where i see The Good Stuff. and i'm gay as hell, so there's bias. ok read more time kiss kiss.

anyhoozles, coincidentally i've been back on my sam and max bullshit recently, as i finally got a chance to play "this time it's virtual". and discovered vr is not my thing.

so to start, listen...i don't think sam and max's relationship is quite as cut and dry as i believe myself and perhaps many others would imagine/hope. i'm eyeing the "susan" gag from the aformentioned ttiv, in particular. but as your resident specialist in "complex and obscure knowledge of three series total or so", the question of sam and max's relationship has been here since the very beginning of the official comics. like. this has been a thing. pretending it's new is foolhardy. and wrong. obviously there's "like butch and sundance", the wedding toppers, hell, the devs of the telltale game trilogy lampshade their relationship a very decent amount, both in the game itself and in the commentary. at the end of 209, "chariot of the dogs", they directly bring it up during the final cutscene tie straightening maneuver max does. one of the devs literally gets excited about it, iirc. and one of my personal favourite examples is "do you find my warmth...alarming, sam?" from 305, "the city that dares not sleep."

that, in particular, is one of several lines directly from MR. PURCELL HIMSELF, that he gave to the devs each game as lines that must be in the game.

and speaking of season 3, i'd like to mention 305, "they stole max's brain".

(i am now holding "noir sam" so close to my chest, jsyk. that trope means the world to me. it has influenced SO much of my work, and i still use napalm's playthrough on youtube as a sleep aid. REMASTER WHEN.)

of course i and many others latched onto that shit, are you kidding me???? that whole episode was RIPE for hurt/comfort. minor spoiler warning for those that would mind, it's a roaring rampage of revenge plot. at least for the first 30 minutes or so. it's part of a long history between the two of freaking the hell out the second they're separated from each other in a way that doesn't end in like, five minutes. (305. if you know, you know. fkin brutal, man.) sam, in the second act of the game, has been affected by an alternate reality plot, and fully believes he has carried max's brain in a jar his whole LIFE and seemingly has no plans to stop doing so!! it's part of a season where the WHOLE PLOT revolves around the nature of their relationship and how it could change. you don't have to be a shipper yourself to understand how that could be incredibly compelling to the people that fancy them as a couple.

and it's a fandom that i give a lot of credit to lgbt people for revitalising in the mid 2010s~ (i was already a fan by then, and i'm still really curious as to why it blew up so much, but hey, who's complaining?), as well as in 2021~ in response to skunkape's remaster of telltale's season one "save the world" installment, and the release of ttiv. (obviously the actual demographic spread across platform to platform is a varied thing, etc. etc. i'd like to stay firmly in my lane, and i don't wanna overstate any particular demos in my discussion here, or hyperbolise too much.)

Obviously, you don't have. to be a shipper. completely fine. pretty common. Who Give A Care. and we're not even gonna get into the "not suitable" content. i can't fault anyone for not being cool with the actual sexualisation of childhood stuff they like. that's something i'm pretty "ambivalent with a leaning towards discomfort" about for quite a few things myself. and it turns out there wasn't even any "unmentionable graphic imagery" to begin with. shocking. HOWEVER. i'm fascinated but not completely surprised by the blatant homophobia and disgust towards the fanart of the ship.

like, to be nuanced about things, and it's not like the admin is extending the same courtesy here, this is clearly an older fan. like i think from around the same timeframe i was first introduced to it, give or take. maybe they missed a lot of the tumblr mid-2010s activity, or maybe that's going in to their Burning Disgust towards Yaoi Sam and Max Kissing Not Clickbait. i know the fanart had some level of cross-posting, at least on youtube as dubs iirc. OR maybe i'm a fool who is actively tricking you with my words and none of the above is true at all. however...pal. again, in my opinion, we owe those lgbt and neurodivergent kids and adults our whole rights as a fan community. you don't have to like it, but you do have to be respectful, jerkbag.

i can't be the only one who was devastated by the drought of content post "the devil's playhouse". we had a [1] singular whole webcomic to tide us over, with the occasional sketch on purcell's social medias. of course, there was a small community of fans, and some incredible stuff they made, looking at you Sam Dies At The End. i weeped. but it was slow and steady. and then, out of seemingly nowhere, people en masse suddenly REALLY CARED ABOUT THE THING THAT BROUGHT ME SO MUCH JOY AS A LITTLE GUY. like, fuck man...i first found out what autism was when i was real young because max's character description on wikipedia contained speculation as to whether or not he has it. (jury's still out, ...but we all have our little comforts. okay? also speaking of, "is max gay?" is like. one of the longest ongoing bits. like cmon dude.) now granted, by 2021 i was a little old for the new wave of shipping that sprouted up. tiktok edits are Not Always My Thing. but that's okay!!!! it doesn't need to be my thing. i'm really glad they're having fun. :] and i don't want to come across as like. infantilising in my discussion of the younger fanbase, so i apologise if my tone has come across that way. it really is simply the comforting thought that kids like me can experience what i had.

i remember how much fun my friends and i used to have when we were 16! (hi xavier, if ur reading this. miss you, buddy. :]) we got silly with it! we got angsty about season 3!! we wrote fanfiction, hell, an amazing fic my friend wrote that i beta'd is still the most kudos'd shipping fic on ao3!! the fanartists i liked had such an INCREDIBLE grasp on how to write sam and max's banter. it was a good time! and knowing these characters are giving joy to a new generation makes me giddy, dude. hell yeah! get "feral" or whatever the hell it is these days. find comfort in characters that don't really care about anyone's opinion except each other's, who get to be as weird and annoying and gross as they want all the time. that tend to punch up. that show love differently than what's seen as conventional. that end up saving the day, not even because they have to, so much as they genuinely enjoy each adventure together. max was my personal opportunity to feel comfort in all my weird freaky mannerisms i kept safe behind the polished exterior i had to wear as a kid. i found solace in the thought that those two were practically made for each other, as i stumbled through my own gender and sexuality crises. i loved how dry and dark sam was allowed to be. the banjo bits, the phone jokes, the repartee. so much of this series has influenced me, and helped me become who i am, as a creator and as a functional guy who Does Things.

so that's a small bit of why i think sam and max had, and still has, a lot of appeal to people that grew up like me. there's a lot of rough stuff i went through that made the idea of a couple of anarchist detectives completely devoted to one another that go around the seedy underbelly of america saving the day ("almost on purpose!") really, really interesting. steve purcell is unapologetic about how gross america can be, especially in the comics. at the heart of it, sam and max do what they do both because they enjoy it, and they enjoy each other. and i think, to overlook that, is to miss some of the whole point of the franchise. oh, i'm sorry, giant cockroaches literally everywhere is fine, streets crusted in various goos, totally chill, but gay kissing is the thing that Absolutely Nauseates you? plugging your ears and screaming gross seems like...kind of a weak move here, ngl. a work that doesn't shy away from how confusing and wild life can be has a decent chance to be compelling to marginalised groups, who often have to put up with the more disgusting aspects of reality anyways. at least these two odd guys are having fun with it. sam and max understand each other, each of their strengths and flaws, and choose to be with each other every day because of and in spite of them. they choose to love where they are, because of and in spite of its many, many, many flaws. they choose to be who they are because they love what they do. there's something touching there, if you like to think about such things. there are some occasions i find myself wishing sam and max's relationship was more...concrete. i wish we had an answer to Does Sam And Max Is Gay? but at the same time, being vague and obtuse is like. their whole shtick. so maybe it's just right how it is. and uh. obviously this is a fictional series. in the end, it's all how we enjoy it that matters, and it's not the end of the world. and as a final cherry on top, nothing beats turning to my husband and asking, "is sam and max queerbait", before delighting in the 3 hr conversation that follows.

and to get to the point. as the old adage unfortunately goes, it's...okay. to not like...ships. and i can even somewhat understand being frustrated by a subreddit you created being "flooded" by a thing you're not into. only somewhat, because a: we've always been here, and b: because you can. just not look at it? idk if reddit has a filtering system, but. the scroll wheel is free. to throw a tantrum and ban topics because you're personally offended people think they're gay? you might be missing out on some of the most fun you can have outside the series, and you're spitting in the face of the people who held this fandom up on their shoulders like atlas.

and you're being a dick about it.

TO CONCLUDE:

wah wah they're gay gay homosexual gay and they don't pay taxes. deal or die, fake fan.

#bee bumbles #thanks for listening to my ted talk.#at the end of it all. mod's a coward. watch the new shipping subreddit become the active one #like the jojos subreddit all over again #also so many subreddits have issues with questions popping up over and over again. get over it pal. hand over admin to someone else #if you're not having fun anymore #like i get it would prolly suck to hand over something you created. but you know what else sucks #vitriolic homophobia and censorship because you saw fanart of sam and max cuddling as they sleep one too many times #jesus #i thought we got over the idea that shipping exists in fandom in like. 2012.#freelance husbands #hey. just in case you're interested.#update: lol mod's getting clowned on rip

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yallemagne · 1 year

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I'm sobbing why does my dash have to be filled with reminders about Phantom Blood.

So, the thing about... actually crossing over Dracula and Phantom Blood is. It's complicated. So, Araki looked at vampire lore and said "this ain't gonna do it for me. not sexy enough. not enough gore. where are the man-dogs?"

Religious iconography doesn't kill vampires (it makes an honest effort. Dio gets impaled by a statue of Venus but he lives unfortunately). They use breathing martial arts to harness the power of the sun (which Bram doesn't even explicitly say harms vampires. what the fuck Bram, toss me a bone). AND EVEN THEN! I swear to god, ninety percent of the time Hamon doesn't even work against vampires because all of the highly trained Hamon masters get fuckin' decimated by a guy who turned into a vampire last week.

I feel like maybe crossovering the plots would be weird... but to have the characters interact would be interesting. And I'm not just saying this because I've spent too much of my life working on Phantom Blood rewrites. I love these characters, I hate what happened to them. Jonathan Joestar dies at twenty-one. Unfair, illegal.

But so, since I keep thinking about this and I've already posted nonsense about crossovers, I might as well dip my toes.

Warning that I don't go deep enough into Jojo lore to make this comprehensible to non-Jojo fans.

Okay so, Phantom Blood takes place from 1880-1889. So, not really a viable time to crossover with Dracula. I know some are more fast and loose about crossovers, but I'm the guy who gets mad at people who think Frankenstein was set in Victorian times. I'm insufferable is what I'm saying. The earliest you might place Dracula is 1890 since that's 7 years before the publication, but some people go with a later date (for context reasons? shit about New Women and stuff) or even 1897.

But whatever. I guess... you can lie about things to make a crossover work... but you can't change the timeline of Jojo's bc Araki is an author that actually tells you what fucking year it is in his manga which makes him a god in my eyes.

So, probably the best way to connect the Joestars to the Crew of Light initially is that Jonathan Joestar is nobility. Perhaps the Joestars have met the Holmwoods? Jojo and Arthur could bond over having no mom? And later, their dads dying at a very inopportune time? And their wedding plans being ruined?

Dio Brando was a lawyer (or still in university to become one?) but I don't think he would have gone into property law?? I think canonically, he planned to be corrupt and take bribes from criminals, but I've seen fanfics that hint at crossover potential just being Harker and Dio knowing each other because of their lawyering. I think that's neat. Dio thinks this man (with the same damn name as his stepbrother) is so insufferable. And Harker doesn't even have the excuse of being rich or having a stable family, he's literally also a poor orphan, it vexes Dio so much, "stop being so happy you're not allowed, you're supposed to be bitter like me".

Erina Pendleton is the daughter of a doctor and later gets into medicine herself to nurse Jojo back to health after his first... well his first BIG LETHAL fight with Dio. Her father could know Van Helsing? Or Seward's parents? I assume Seward's father would also be a doctor but I dunno. You know he got that asylum through nepotism. Anyway, bullies call Erina's father a quack, so maybe he could indulge in theories about vampirism like Van Helsing? We see nothing of him, but he gets sponsored to do some medical research in India. It seems like big deal research to me, but I wouldn't know. It wasn't plot relevant, it's just the explanation for why Erina is gone for the seven-year time skip.

Also. isn't it funny that Phantom Blood and Dracula both have a seven-year time skip?

But here's the big issue I keep slamming into like a fly knocking against a glass window. Phantom Blood takes place in Liverpool where the Joestar estate is. I mean, there's also some cavorting in London, and Dio is from London, but the characters all spend the majority of their time in Liverpool. Maybe I'm just... I'm thinking too deeply. After all, most of the locations in Phantom Blood are made up. And England is just so small.

Mixing the vampire lore would be the hardest. Vampires are OP in Phantom Blood, and I refuse to give Dracula that much power. Vampires don't even... use their teeth here. I guess the sharp teeth are just for se-- *gets shot* They just stick their fingers into your skin like silly straws and suck it out that way. And they are created either by wearing the Stone Mask or by feeding vampire blood to someone/just spilling vampire blood on a corpse.

There's not really themes to the vampires in Jojo's. Dio and Jonathan themselves represent duality, but like... vampire are not Un-Dead in Phantom Blood. They're just... hyper-evolved humans? How the Stone Mask works is that it pierces specific areas of the brain to crack some evolutionary code and give you cool powers at the cost of not being able to walk about in the sunlight. People who are turned using blood tend to become ravenous monsters or have to serve the vampire whose blood turned them, but those turned with the mask retain free will.

Dio can fucking... make his blood so cold that he can trap people's entire bodies in ice. He gets sliced in half with a cool sword and walks it off. His entire body is destroyed by Hamon but he cuts off his own head and places it on Jonathan's body. It's fucking wild, and I refuse to give Dracula that power. Also, anyone who turns into a vampire turns young immediately, no need to drink blood. I honestly still don't know why Jojo vampires even drink blood. I think it's just to be edgy. Nothing can kill these fucking cockroaches except stands and Hamon... and sometimes the vampires have stands... and sometimes the vampires have Hamon. And that's illegal, but it's happened more than once.

I'VE GONE ON A TANGENT.

THE GIST OF IT IS MAYBE JUST-- WOULDN'T IT BE COOL IF, ON TOP OF HIS KHUKURI, JONATHAN COULD BREATHE ON DRACULA AND KILL HIM IN AN INSTANT??

There, I said it.

#dracula #dracula daily #jjba #jjba part 1 #phantom blood #jojo's bizarre adventure #crossover #dracula crossover #long post

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handsome-john · 5 months

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I’m so fucking normal about Gears and Clef in the house, I wanted to ask about the references to absurdist literature in chapter three of these walls have mold in them. Why did you include them? They’re super fucking cool to me and are so fucking creepy, too

I have 2 reasons, one is while I was in the middle of this project I got mildly obsessed with the play Gildenstern and Rosencrantz are dead, which affected me in a way I can't explain without sounding insane. It led me to reading several other absurdist pieces, particularly The Maids by Jean Genet, a wildly uncomfortable piece about two people who love each other but due to the positions they hold and the awful situation they're in, end up hurting each other and eventually one poisons herself with sleeping medication.

I'm by no means a professional, merely an enthusiast, but it's my understanding that absurdism is a genre that came about after the great war, when nihilism was high and everyone was miserable. It's a genre that focuses on worlds that intentionally don't make sense, nonsense plots, a general feeling of hopelessness and aimlessness. And I got in my head that Dr Gears would relate a lot to that genre as someone who's very trapped in this situation and often feels like he's going through the same motions over and over again without any end, kinda like he's constantly waiting for Godot even though he knows godot will never come, if that makes sense.

I could probably go on about the inherent existential time loopy-ness of theatre as a medium, but it would become very clear to anyone who actually knows shit that I'm just saying things. Absurdism makes me feel things and moldhouse was already a very self indulgent house of leaves project, so I just made it more self indulgent.

Thanks for the ask!

#jackasks #evil clears au

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space-mermaid-writing · 1 year

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Faded Black Ink [IronStrange] - Chapter 15

Relationship: Doctor!Stephen Strange x Mafia!Tony Stark

Tags: Mafia AU, Angst, Romance, Idiots in love

Ko-fi | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's note: The plot thickens

Chapter 15: Missing

Stephen strolled through the city center, as he had no desire to spend his day off just sitting in his apartment. Instead, he indulged in the hustle and bustle of the crowd and took the opportunity to shop at the men's outfitter of his trust. He bought two shirts and a pair of leather gloves for the coming autumn. Just as he was heading to the checkout, a tie and pocket square combination caught his eye. Black with camellia flowers. Admittedly not the prettiest combo, but it reminded Stephen of Tony, of what he had told him about his parents. Without giving it much thought, he bought it. Ever since their talk, Stephen had realized that giving gifts was a way for Tony to show his affection. Even if the gifts were outrageously expensive.

Leaving the store, Stephen put the leather gloves he bought in his jacket pocket. The days were already getting colder, and he would need them soon.

On the way home, he stopped briefly at a coffee shop to treat himself to a well-deserved coffee. But his good mood vanished when he saw Peter sitting on the steps of his front door, and he was instantly worried.

"What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

Peter stood up when he saw him. "I'm fine," he reassured the doctor.

Stephen eyed him closely, but could not see any obvious injuries and decided to believe him. He told him to follow and held the front door open for him. "Then what can I do for you?"

Peter stared at his shoes as he went inside. It hadn't been hard to find out where the doctor lived. Peter knew how to work his father's network.

He stayed silent until they had entered Strange’s apartment and closed the door behind them. "When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Stark?"

"A few days ago."

"When exactly?"

Stephen put his shopping bags on the table and turned to the boy, his brows raised in wonder. "Why do you want to know?" Peter hesitated, avoiding his gaze, which is why more pressing asked, "Peter, what is going on? Did something happen?" He was back to being worried. Especially when the boy was nodding.

"He disappeared," he said in a hushed voice as if he was afraid that someone was listening in. "We think he's been kidnapped."

A cold shiver came over Stephen and he had to brace himself with one hand on the table. "What?" It couldn't be. There had to be a rational and plausible explanation.

"There hasn't been any messages from him and when we try to call him it goes straight to his mailbox. First we thought he was on a getaway with you." Peter gave him a meaningful look. "But I guess we can rule that out."

Stephen's mind went miles. "We last talked three days ago." He checked his phone to confirm it. They had sent several texts back and forth. It was a mixture of banter and nonsense. Stephen had sent him two more messages the days after, but they hadn't been read yet. So far he had assumed that Tony was just busy with work and would get back to him later.

Peter's phone rang and the two glanced at each other. Hope sprouted in Stephen. Peter noticed, but shook his head when he saw the caller ID.

"Hey…" Peter turned his back to the doctor and lowered his voice a bit. "I'm with Doctor Strange… No, he hasn't seen him either." He took a few steps to the window and looked out. Stephen didn't even try to give the impression, not to eavesdrop. "Yes, I'm sure we can trust him." Peter ran his fingers through his hair. "… I just know, okay?… Yeah, sure. See you soon."

Peter hung up and took a deep breath. Worried, he bit his lower lip, his gaze still fixed on a point outside.

There was no mere teenager standing there. It was a young man who had seen a lot in his short life. More than others did in a lifetime. And who was worried about his father figure.

Peter turned his head and looked at the doctor. "If you really want to help, you can come along.”

Stephen didn't have to think about it for long. "I do."

They took his car and the boy navigated him to an uptown apartment, into which they were led by a rather disgruntled Rhodey.

"Why did you bring him?" he asked without a greeting. "He is not even part of the crew."

"I told you I trust him," Peter said defensively and kinda recalcitrantly. "And we need all the help we can get."

Rhodey snorted and gave Stephen a look that clearly told him he was keeping an eye on him.

Peter led the way down a narrow hallway – he seemed to know his way around – while Rhodey let Stephen go second. Presumably he didn't want to turn his back on him. Fort was the friendly banter they shared at the gala. It didn’t surprise the doctor. If Tony was really in danger, Rhodey would do everything he could to find him. And Stephen couldn’t assume that he himself was not among the suspects, no matter what Peter said.

They entered a living room that looked tidy and kinda bland. Pepper was sitting on a beige couch, greeting them with a professional, neutral expression. At least, that's the impression it gave on the outside. When Stephen looked closer, he noticed that her eyes were slightly red as if she had cried a lot in the past days.

Rhodey stepped to her side and put a hand on her shoulder sympathetically. It made sense. They were longtime friends. These people here were not only family to Tony, but also to each other.

Peter asked the doctor to repeat what he knew about his last contact with Tony, and Stephen told everything that seemed relevant. In return, he got an overview of what had happened: sometime three nights earlier, Tony had disappeared without a trace. He had not informed anyone, not even Happy, who usually knew Tony's whereabouts 24/7. The weird thing was, that there wasn't proof that he left the tower. Security cameras showed him in his workshop, fixing one of his favorite vintage cars. Probably with some loud music playing in the background, because every now and then he nodded along with the beat. But then the tapes must have been manipulated, because from one second to the next he disappeared from the frame.

This was quite disturbing, since the tower had its own high security. A hacker had to be very familiar with it and use direct access.

Rhodey and Pepper told Stephen about the earlier attack attempt at Claire’s, revealing that they had suspected for some time that there was a rat in his ranks.

Stephen was shocked to hear how many times Tony's life had been in danger. "I didn't know about that!"

"He didn't want to worry you or get you involved," Pepper explained with a shrug.

"Well, now I'm worried and involved anyway."

Rhodey crossed his arms. "You can still walk away."

"Yes, I could." Stephen stayed where he was, glaring stubbornly and challengingly at the man. He would have to be removed by security.

"Has there been a message or ransom demand by now?" Peter asked Pepper, ignoring the other two men. Nothing in his behavior spoke of a simple teenage boy anymore. He spoke like an adult and was treated as such by Pepper and Rhodey. His posture and gestures reminded Stephen of Tony and he saw a glimpse of the man he fell for in the boy.

Pepper shook his head. "No. Nothing."

"Could it be another organization?" It would be the most obvious explanation for Stephen. Someone who felt threatened by Tony's power and influence and wanted to get him out of the way, before taking a piece of the pie.

"Maybe," Pepper said slowly. "But not necessarily. Tony has suspected for some time that weapons were being sold under the table in his name. There hasn't been any concrete evidence, but might have something to do with that."

Stephen recalled his lunch date at Tony's office and that guy that came barging in. He was talking about selling weapons to east Europe. But Tony had long ago closed the manufactures. At least that was what he said.

Suddenly, a muffled sound came from the next room and Stephen and Peter froze. They thought they were alone in the apartment.

"What was that?" Peter asked Pepper and Rhodey, who exchanged a look. Neither of them seemed to be wanting to speak up.

"You better explai-," Stephen started, but Peter bolted towards the other room. Rhodey grabbed his arm, but Peter wriggled out of his grip. He leaped over the couch and reached the door first, wrenching it open. He stopped rooted to the spot.

"Who is that?"

The adults had followed him. Rhodey and Pepper for damage control and Stephen because he was curious. Peter was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, where he saw a guy tied to a chair with zip ties. He looked vaguely familiar to Stephen, but he couldn't tell from where. Tape over his mouth prevented him from speaking. With a panicked look in his face and a black eye he stared back. He had a laceration on his jaw with some dried blood and his clothes hung messily on him, as if he had been in a fight with someone.

Peter turned to Rhodey when nobody said a word. "Who is that and what does he have to do with Tony's disappearance?" he demanded.

"Peter…" Pepper put a hand on his arm to reassure him, but the boy snapped his arm away.

"No! I want an answer!" His posture now was angry, almost feral. He looked like he was going to pounce on someone at any moment, but hadn't yet decided whether it would be this very suspicious guy or Rhodey. Tony was more than a simple father figure for him. He would be devastated if he lost him.

Rhodey seemed to understand that, too, and he gave in. "We believe we found the rat," he explained in short words, but stood in the doorway, blocking it when the boy tried to get into the bathroom. "Peter."

Clenching his jaw, Peter looks up at him. "If he knows something..."

"Then we'll find out."

"I can help!"

"No." Rhodey raised his hand before Peter could protest any more. "Absolutely not. Yes, you can help with the investigation because we all know you would do it anyway, even if we forbid it." Stephen didn't know that, but could easily imagine it. "But I draw the line at this."

"I'm not a kid anymore."

"This has nothing to do with your age. Tony will kill me, if he ever finds out I let you do this." His expression was serious and he stared Peter down until the boy finally stepped away from the door, grumbling.

"I'll go with you," Stephen said suddenly, and Peter glanced at him. Rhodey looked like he was about to object again, but before he could even open his mouth, Stephen added, "I'll make sure you don't kill that guy before he tells us what we need to know."

Rhodey shrugged. "Suit yourself. But it won't be pretty."

"I worked in the ER long enough."

Fair enough. Rhodey had no further objections, and Stephen followed him into the bathroom. It was decorated in neutral white and navy blue and looked very modern. There was a corner shower and a bathtub. The single sink under the mirror showed that it was a single apartment. But there were so few personal items – in the whole apartment actually – that Stephen doubted anyone lived here at all.

The chair the guy was tied to – it looked like a simple wood chair from the kitchen – was in the middle of the room, taking up most of the free space.

Rhodey placed himself directly in front of him – wide-legged and arms crossed, he sported his best scolding glance. "Quentin. I've got one question for you, and you're going to answer it. This is your one chance, so make it count." Rhodey ripped the tape from his face in a single motion. Stephen knew that this couldn't be a pleasant feeling. But he didn't care - if this man really sold information to Tony's enemies. "Who's paying you?"

The guy – Quentin – licked over his chapped lips and swallowed audibly. Being gagged for however long was certainly not pleasant. Tape was still the better choice than a gag. "I don't know what you're talking about." His voice sounded dry and croaky.

“Oof, wrong answer.”

Rhodey tsked at him mockingly before driving his fist into his ribs, knocking all the air out of him. He gave Stephen a quick glance, as if to see how he reacted. The doctor didn't flinch, his face a stone mask. Rhodey turned back to the guy. "Let's try again. Who's paying you?"

"I'm not..."

"This is going to be a long and very hurtful day for you." The next two blows hit Quentin in the face; left and right cheek. Blood trickled from his knuckles as Quentin's skin cracked. "Last chance, Quentin. I gotta tell you, I'm torn. If you can't give us any answers, you're no use to us." He wiped the blood from his hand and pulled a knife from a pocket of his cargo pants.

The man turned his eyes to Stephen and gave him a pleading look. "Please, help me."

"He can't help you. Answer the fucking question, Quentin."

"I don't know anything!" It was obvious that the guy panicked. He bit his lip as if physically trying to keep his answers to himself. It wasn't until the knife in Rhodey's hand came dangerously close to Quentin's wrists that he squinted and screamed, "Wait, fuck! I'll talk!"

"Oh, nick of time!" Rhodey didn't move an inch, holding the knife right into Quentin's face now. "Who's paying you?"

"He goes by JS. I've never met him personally but he once called me from a number in San Francisco."

"How long?"

"Nine months."

Stephen, who had been watching the whole thing from the wall next to the shower, suddenly thought of something. "Jasper Sitwell."

Rhodey turned his head to him questioningly, while Quentin's eyes widened at the mention of the name. He immediately tried to look away, but he had given himself away.

Stephen stepped closer. "You spoke to him at the gala," he recalled.

"Beck was one of the men who was attending undercover for Tony's security," Rhodey confirmed.

"I talked to a lot of people there," Quentin quickly defended himself. "I don't know all of their names."

That was obviously a lie.

"You're right. It was certainly just a coincidence." Stephen took the gloves he bought this morning out of his jacket and put them on. He stepped up to Rhodey and motioned for him to make room. "May I?" Rhodey raised an eyebrow, but took a step back, curious to see what the Doctor was up to.

Stephen turned to Quentin, leaning down so their faces were at eye level. "You're one of Tony's men, so I'm sure you know the good Rhodey here is army trained. I bet he knows ways to make you talk. After you screamed in pain. And there will be a lot of pain if you don't tell him what he wants to know." He spoke clearly, perhaps a little slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure if Quentin's was a little dull. He patted his cheek, keeping his hand on it. "But I'm a doctor. I don't need those methods to ruin your life." With those words, he grabbed Quentin's jaw and pressed his fingers painfully into the soft skin. "I will find your family, parents, siblings, kids, pets, anyone you ever loved. Even your granny. Do you want me to find them?"

It was hard for Quentin to speak as his jaw was rudely held in Stephen's grasp. "You're bluffing." His voice was pressed.

Stephen smirked. "Think about what I just found out in a moment's time with that little information you gave us. And then think about what I can find out with the influence of a name the size of Tony Stark. And I got his lawyer, who will gladly back me up."

Quentin squirmed. His eyes flickered briefly to Rhodey, who still looked like he would love to take his frustration out on him with brute force. "Fine, okay… okay. It was him," he finally relented. "The guy offered me money in exchange for information about the boss and those close to him. The gala was only the second time I'd met him in person."

"Did he mention who he works for? Or other names?" Rhodey chimed in, now back in charge of the interrogation.

"No…" Quentin shook his head and before anyone could threaten him, he quickly added, "I swear he didn't. But… the way he phrased it, he wanted to meet someone else that night, who might have been involved."

Suddenly Stephen remembered something and it ran ice cold down his spine. Jerkily, he turned his head to Rhodey, his gaze betraying the discomfort the thought gave him.

"What?" Rhodey asked.

But the doctor silently told him with a tilt of his head to go back to the others. What he had to say was not meant for the ears of a traitor.

Pepper and Peter waited in the living room. The boy is sitting on the couch, restlessly bouncing his leg. He jumped to his feet as soon as the two men left the bathroom and looked toward them, waiting. Neither said a word. Rhodey waited for what the doctor had to tell them, but Stephen first regarded the small group. Tony's Family.

"You are all here, because you're the only people you trust at the moment, right? Pepper and Rhodey, you are both in high ranks of power in Tony’s business." He looked at the two. He didn't voice his theory directly, wanting to know what they would say about it when he hinted at it first. "But there's a third one there with you and it's not Peter. So… why isn't Stane here?"

The two frowned questioningly.

"You think Stane is involved in this?" Rhodey was the first to understand what he was getting at. "He is family. Heck, he basically raised Tony and Tony trusts him. We all do."

"I don't." All heads turned to Pepper in surprise. "I can't explain it, but there's something about him." Her gaze was fixed on Stephen. "But if you accuse him, I need proof from you." It was her lawyer's voice.

"It's a leap, but Jasper Sitwell - the contact who paid this Quentin guy - had contact with Stane."

Rhodey grabbed Stephen by the shoulder and looked at him seriously. "Are you absolutely sure?" If what he said was true, they had probably found the root of the evil – and it was far worse than any of them had suspected.

Stephen thought back to the night of the gala, when he had run into Tony's godfather. When Stane had spoken to him. It had been more of a monologue, a rather distracting one. But he clearly remembered that Sitwell had stepped out the room behind Stane and ducked in the other direction – as if he didn’t want to be seen.

"I am."

Rhodey took a breath. "Okay." He shook his head. "Shit, that’s not good."

Pepper slumped back on the couch, staring at a spot on the floor. She was torn between personal anger and trying to think about the situation rationally. "If this is true, there has to be traces of his involvement. Whether it be the sold weapons, the sold data or Tony's kidnapping. There has to be something. We need access to his computer."

"He's running the business in Tony's absence. It won't be easy to get past him without making him suspicious. We need to be careful and not arouse his suspicion."

Stephen was amazed by their reaction. They didn't argue, didn't fight with him. Although he just had accused one of their own of the highest treason possible. Stephen, who was, as had been pointed out to him many times before, 'not even part of the crew'. He had laid out the facts, but hadn't been sure if they would simply disbelieve him on principle. But they did believe him. More even, they started making plans right away.

Rhodey looked to the only one who hadn't spoken a word since he and Strange returned. "You okay there, Pete?"

The boy had remained silent during the conversation. Stane had been like an uncle to him, and the alleged accusation hit him hard.

"Do you think he would...?" he trailed off, not daring to finish that sentence. He didn't even want to think about what happened to Tony. If he was still alive or…

Rhodey put a hand on his shoulder. "We will find Tony. Whatever it costs." They could only hope that it would be too late.

Tony was leaning against a cold metal wall. His head was heavy from whatever drug they had put into him. He couldn't see his surroundings, the room was pitch black. He had been awake for quite a while, at least it seemed a while to him. He wasn't really sure how much time had really passed. One time he heard noises from outside, but without being able to define them more precisely.

He was not tied up, and shortly after he had regained consciousness, he had taken a walk around the room – it was more long than wide – and tapped the walls. It sounded tinny. They didn't seem thick, but solid. Like a sort of metal bunker. He had called for help, but there had been no response. No one had reacted – not even a kidnapper that told him to be quiet.

Tony's last memory was of changing the ignition plugs on his oldest AUDI in his garage. Tony loved working on cars, it was his favorite hobby. Therefore he had set up his own little workshop in the tower. Over the loud music blasting from the speakers he hadn't heard that the door opened. Someone had stepped up to him. He had felt the presence more than seen it. Something had been pushed in his face, it had smelled funny, then everything had gone black.

There were only a few people who had access to Tony's workshop. So it had to be someone from his family. Someone who had detailed knowledge. The thought of betrayal pained Tony almost worse than his current condition.

With a sigh, Tony heaved himself back on his feet to investigate the room once more. There had to be something.

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Stane will always have the role of the backstabber in my stories.

Tag List: @hidden-treasures21

#IronStrange #StrangeIron #stephen strange x tony stark #doctor strange x iron man #Stephen Strange #Doctor Strange #Tony Stark #Mafia AU #Mob Au #Italian mafia #Angst #Drama #Romance #Idiots in love #Faded black ink #ironstrange family

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