#alas poor villain

[ultraericthered]

Well you kind of killed people who could've given you that love and are about to kill yet another but sure, poor you.

Thank goodness for Howard being such a faithful simp, huh?

Pearl — 2022, dir. Ti West

[starry-bi-sky]

i have been unmedicated for the entirety of spring break and thus have had little interest in writing this down, but i have been thinking about this for the entire week (as well as a dpdc clone danny au that resulted in it becoming its entirely separate batman au that includes a teenage vigilante bruce wayne, an ocarina, and me entirely incapable of making a batman au without making bruce dirt poor but we're not talking about that) and so i've finally went 'fuck it' and forcibly grabbed my laptop. I will get this done in one sitting even if it kills me.

BUT. This is about neither clone^2 danny nor about who i am calling Ocarina Batman. This is about my Danyal Al Ghul Au and more SPECIFICALLY it's me thinking about his relationship with Sam and Tucker specifically.

Tucker and Sam? Adore this asshole (affectionate) with every fiber of their being. And it is very much a reciprocated feeling, but Danny's thoughts will not be delved into much other than he would kill for them.

Tucker? The only person currently capable of getting a deep, loud, belly laugh out of Danny. Sam can get him to smile and to laugh, but it's the kind that's a chuckle-under-the-breath. The quiet, looks-down-while-huffing laughter. Snorts once with laughter and then grins stupidly.

But Tucker? Tucker can crack a slew of stupid jokes and Danny will be incapacitated for the next five minutes because he's laughing so hard that he can't breath. He lands one well-timed pun or quip and Danny will be close to tears. His laughter is their favorite sound in the whole world.

Sam is lowkey jealous of this ability, and she's gotten a belly laugh out of Danny a few times. But alas, it is Tucker who wields this power and has gotten it the most times out of the two of them.

-

They're also both physically affectionate with Danny as much as possible. It started roughly around when they were 12-ish, a year since they befriended Danny, and they noticed that he sought after touch but never seemed to initiate (and was in some ways repulsed by it). They started slowly being more touchy with him. Hooking a finger around his to lead him somewhere, tapping his wrist, looping arms. Little touches, grabs, etc, to get him used to it, and once he started doing it back they started increasing it.

It's gotten to a point where he will now just. Lay on them. Like a lizard sunbathing on a rock. Leaning on their backs when they're sitting in class before the bell rings, his chin on their heads. He'll talk about anything with his arms looped around their shoulders.

If they're sitting on a couch at either of their houses, he'll lay his legs on theirs. Him and Tucker will press their feet against the other's and try and push against them (newsflash: Danny always wins, Tucker claims its the ghost strength but Danny's been winning since before his accident)

-

Naturally, both Sam and Tucker know where Danny keeps his weapons on his person, and are allowed to grab them off of him if they need it. His only requirement is that they don't lose his weapons if they take it and forget to return it immediately.

They both understand how big of a thing this is from Danny, and so they do their best to treat his weapons with a lot of respect and care because they know its his way of saying he trusts them.

-

Sam and Tucker are so fond of Danny it's insane. Like fr. That's their goddamn best friend, and they are so protective of him. Emotionally, physically, you name it. They will tear the head off a grown man if they need to, Danny's had scars since he arrived in Amity Park and Sam and Tucker both are going to find the person who put them there and make them pay for it.

One time, Tucker overheard a bunch of upperclass girls speaking nastily about Danny and about the rumors surrounding him, calling him names like 'freak', 'monster', etc. Danny was with him and heard it, and seemingly appeared unbothered by it, even telling Tucker that he was used to such rumors.

Tucker was so furious that hacked into the school system later that night and tanked those girls grades. They were kicked out of their clubs and had to go to mandatory tutoring for the rest of the year. He made sure to leave some way of letting them know it was him who did it.

And Sam doesn't like using her money for things, doesn't like abusing that wealth. So instead, whenever her parents talk bad about Danny, she causes a media incident that has her parents scrambling to deal with. She does something wild, outrageous by her parents' standards.

She heard some boys on the basketball team making fun of Danny once, similar to those girls had. She kicks up a fuss about something eco-unfriendly at school and forcibly holds a protest on the same day of the big home basketball game, forcing them to cancel the event and reschedule to a visiting school.

She anonymously donates money so that there's new uniforms for the team but oops! Looks like she "forgot" to donate enough money for them to get uniforms for all the team members, and strangely enough those boys in particular didn't get them! Looks like they'll have to wait until more money gets donated for the basketball team to get their new, nice uniforms. The old ones look so ratty in comparison, right?

And since the football team gets most of the sport money, that might just take awhile. And if (and when) they kick up a fuss? oops! Off the basketball team you go, :) such unsportsman-like behavior is unfit for the team.

(The only good thing about how corrupt the school system is is that she can use it to her advantage too.)

The both of them know that Danny suspects them for the sudden misfortune falling on these people, but he doesn't call them out on it. He's kinder than he used to be, but not kind enough to vouch for people who speak badly of him. Sometimes, he might just congratulate them on not getting caught.

Because Danny is their wonderful, hurt friend with a "slightly" Blue and Orange Moral code, and enough scars that people have been calling him a criminal (and worse) since he arrived in Amity Park when he was ten. And they'll be damned if he gets hurt anymore.

[lunar-bunn]

you know what, I think after episode 35, Wanning is allowed to burn the whole ass palace to the ground... just for funsies

[sweet-beezus]

I've always liked the idea of choices and how they change the narrative, so for this day of @khoc-week we'll be poking around one of each's most impactful choices that could have changed everything!!

This'll be like... AU 2: Electric Boogaloo, except it's a different flavor of course.

They're all very angsty, so no one wins this one, alas.

Day 6 - One Choice, New Life

Iris:

Ohhhh yeah~

Right out the front gate we're starting strong!

Since Iris, thanks to poking around in places she shouldn't, ends up getting smited before the Keyblade War even began, imagine if she kept her nose out of things just long enough...

She gets to know everyone that Alto got to meet, and finds herself having even more things to add to her list of suspicions as time goes on.

She finds out about the Dandelions, about the weird happenings and disapperances, about the fact that the Foretellers are hiding more than they are letting on.

Things start to get more tense, more stressful. Iris grows a resentment for the Union leaders and those they associated with, as the days lead to competition that grows ever more violent.

Her final straw was when Aced dared to strike down Alto, who just wanted to spare two wielders an otherwise fruitless fight near the fountain square. She denounces her Union involvement, essentially going rogue all to keep a protective eye on Alto.

She turns down a spot on the Dandelions only because Alto did, despite her efforts to plea with him so they could leave safe and sound. But she respects his choices, so together they will face the music head on.

Eventually, the Keyblade War swings around. Even though it's a free for all at this rate, she still teams up with Alto to stay close and keep them both alive no matter the cost.

Now, ideally she would get taken away with Alto to the digital Daybreak Town and the two would continue to suffer towards the end of the world, perhaps both finding themselves on a journey to reincarnate in Scala ad Caelum, however the newly uncovered, very hostile Foretellers of the Apocalypse have other plans.

Despite Igni being an angel of the battlefield, at least in the eyes of the wielders she saves, for very interesting reasons never really disclosed she just leaves Iris to die, or rather finishes the job herself. Either way, Iris does not make it out, at least not in an ideal state.

Nobody in the future gets to learn who Iris is despite Alto carrying her memory with him, he had forgotten her just as much as he forgot everyone from that time.

Her Chirithy got to her just in time before she was whisked off to sleep, and she now resides in the Realm of Dreams as a Necho Cat, assisting in keeping that realm and the other lost wielders safe.

♡♡♡

Irene:

Irene also had a strong case of sticking her nose where it doesn't belong, which later ended in an act of martyrdom for two boys that barely gave her the time of day.

This time around, despite her heart telling her to act, she kept to herself and followed along blindly alongside the other castle staff (loyalty to Master Ansem and all that), where it eventually lead to her witnessing all of the horrid experiments happening within the castle walls.

She ends up involuntarily becoming a Nobody, Nexier (it's just Reixen backwards lol), with a healing element, one of if not the only passive member of Organization XIII. While not branded as an official member, she is given her own infirmary quarters in the Castle That Never Was, where the other members are sent to receive mending and care, most likely a hint to all that remains of who she was.

When she's returned to wholeness, she's confronting Sora on his final trek to confront Xemnas. It's more of a mercy upon her granted by Sora, but part of her seems so far gone even when recompleted. She will never be the same, now jaded towards her place of work, yet she stays because where else does she have to go? She needs to be there for the others who also suffered the same fate...

All we have is hope that maybe she could find healing from all this.

♡♡♡

Iliana:

I thought of two for her, so I'll share the less dark option first!

When she takes up a roost with her uncle after the fall of her world, a pivotal point was her choice to leave and seek closure in the depths of space. Here, Russell managed to talk her down from persuing what isn't there, so she doesn't take off on a fruitless chase for answers. Instead she takes up work as Russell's apprentice at his shop, biding her time until she can handle the journey on her own. Or with friends-

She ends up in Sora's mess here anyway, just with less death on her end this time around. Unfortunately, destiny has it out for her either way-

The second option was from before she left her home world.

She had already been actively packing to leave by now, a slow process considering she had to swipe many things from under her parents' noses. Unfortunately, finishing that task couldn't have come fast enough.

During its final day standing as the world was crumbling to pieces, she had tried returning to her home city to grab her brother, the last thing she needed in order to go. The only thing holding her back was swarms of Heartless and, well, the world actively falling apart.

Originally, she realized she was outmatched and decided to flee, since she knew fighting her way through would mean certain death, and with certain death it meant no one would be able to go back and save it later, nor could anyone escape that hadn't tried already.

It was devastating to leave her brother behind, but it was necessary to make sure she wouldn't lose him completely.

This time around, however, she continues to persist, battling through hoard after hoard to reach the city gate... only for the city to totally sink into darkness before she could make it there. Her way back was starting to crumble as well, so she was all but completely trapped.

Of course, Heartless are an inconvenience, so on her furious trek back she nearly makes it to the ship, but! Comes up short as she is taken with the broken pieces of her world to the Realm of Darkness.

Her persistence kept her from being swallowed completely -unless she totally gives up which is possible- nevertheless she ended up finding herself wandering this new realm aimlessly for a couple of years, maybe bumping into Aqua-nort and her mildly unhinged gf, Myst, while she's at it, until by pure happenstance she may be rescued...

By Sora, of course. She can never avoid him-

She doesn't come out of this herself anymore, in fact she's far from the person she may have been, left now to take her time relearning how to be human, and her recovery monitored in Radiant Garden while the Guardians of Light are actively hunting down where Terra ended up.

♡♡♡

Oh, how I love me some angst!

The most heartbreaking part is that if this is all part of one timeline they never get to meet, with the exception of Iliana and Irene I suppose, but they won't click in the same way they do now. Maybe they learn to heal together, but it's so strained that it's best to let them handle themselves separately.

Iliana would also have no reason to take the Mark of Mastery until way later this way, if at all, so she'd never meet Dreameater Iris, alas.

Anywho-

Wowie zowie, we're almost at the end, just one more day!!

I'll see y'all tomorrow for Day 7!!

[rescuefield-arch1]

she's not quite set yet since it's 1am but 🔪🔪

[nyokacore]

I'm not biased towards any character, what are you talking abou-

[ultraericthered]

But the thing is, Bill's gone so insane that I think that extra layer plays backwards in his conscious mind - doing something toxic that hurts him but thinking doing it ceaselessly and unrepentantly makes him better somehow, and feeling he deserves the best as consequence. On a deep subconscious level he knows that it's really self-harm driven by guilt, but he's made himself believe otherwise in order to go on enjoying the chaos he creates and the suffering of others he inflicts. Can't really sympathize with him at all, but it does evoke pity.

Reading the Book of Bill completely repaints all of his behavior as inherently self destructive. This is a character who believes they have done something unforgivable and has thus become a villain from now to the end of time. He keeps doing the same horrible thing over and over again so that Euclidia gives him less guilt. All that manipulation, all the destruction, that was what bill decided he was meant to do until someone put him in a box. His hedonism is just the cherry on top of it all. It may seem like he loves nothing more than personal pleasure as some form to drown out his guilt but there is an extra layer under that. A layer doing something toxic you know is hurting you but you feel you deserve it.

[catpriciousmarjara]

Getting a PHD literally anywhere else: Wow! Congratulations! What a great achievement! Amazing!

Getting a PHD in Gotham: Wow! Amazing! You're now on several Government, Civilian, and Bat watchlists.

So if any of the Wayne kids get a PHD, then the entirety of Gotham would be squinting at them suspiciously. They're rich, so resources, and most likely already insane with all the shit they pull.

What I'm saying is if Jason went and got himself a Doctorate in Literature, the whole city would anticipate the appearance of his villainsona called the Dead Poet(emphasis on the dead) or Bookkeeper or something else similarly nerdy and themed like that for sure.

I just know that it would turn into some Gotham inside joke with memes abound, and everytime Jason would, I don't know, give more funding to the neglected Arts Departments in Gotham University, or go to a school for read alongs to encourage kids to read, Gotham social media would go crazy and be like:

"The Dreaded Villain Dead Poet Reads Alice in Wonderland to Children! How Despicable!"

"Villain Dead Poet Lambasts Government on Banning Books! Leads Librarians to Riot!"

"Dead Poet Ramps up his Villainy by Establishing Educational Programmes in Crime Alley! Uplifting the Poor! What a Dastardly Villain!"

"Dead Poet Goes on Live Ranting About his Favourite Books! Favourite Author is Jane Austen! Is this the Feminist Agenda?"

And so on! It's a meme that refuses to go away. His siblings actively participate, and make the situation worse.

Dick held an online Gotham Villains and Anti-Heroes Poll and Dead Poet came out on top, over Red Hood. Jason is an actual Gotham crime boss, but his crowdfunded villainsona is more popular. No he's not salty about it at all.

Duke would create a montage of Dead Poet sightings.

Stephanie would make a Dead Poet meme compilation.

Tim would arrange Wayne Enterprises to donate to local libraries after allegedly being threatened by the heinous villain Dead Poet. (Jason did ask Tim to do that but not like that)

Barbara created an extremely popular Villain Watch account for Dead Poet.

Cass tweeted out Jason's favourite books as the villain Dead Poets reading list telling people to avoid them 'wink wonk', causing a massive uptick in the sale of those books ala Bigolas Dickolas.

Damian of all people tweeted out a pic of Jason playing with Alfred the cat accusing the evil villain Dead Poet of attempting to kidnap his cat.

And thats not to mention all the shenanigans they pull in their batsonas.

God bless Gotham and it's home grown, organic, not even remotely ethically sourced, free range chaos.

[see-arcane]

Something I’ve been chewing on for this go-around of Dracula Season is the fact that, for all that I am absolutely 110% on board with the whole ‘Dracula wants Jonathan for himself, calls dibs, wants first taste, wants to keep him as part of the castle permanently, I too can love~ et cetera’ deal, I can admit now that I’ve been overlooking one very key part of the whole Bluebeard wifery setup.

And that’s the unavoidable fact that Dracula fully intends to leave Jonathan Harker to be drunk and collected by the Weird Sisters.

Now there’s all manner of guesswork to make about what exactly these three’s relationship to Dracula really is. A personal harem is usually the go-to, and what I usually land on as explanation, considering how things will play out in the future regarding his usual choice of vampiric victim. But others have suggested familial connections, going by Jonathan noting a couple similar traits between the two brunettes, ala facial features, hair, the same red eyes and so on, leaving Blondie as a potential wife the Count turned along with their daughters. Or hell, maybe they’re all actual sisters. We never get to know.

All we know is that they accuse Dracula of ‘Never loving,’ while Dracula stares meaningfully at Jonathan, insisting otherwise. And claims that the trio themselves know it is so from the past. Whatever past that is.

To that end, the Weird Sisters matter to Dracula. Enough to keep them fed, enough to not even put up a full villain monologue at them when they go against his orders to try and snatch Jonathan out from under him, followed by laughing in his face. Beyond his far-too-intimate interactions and abuses with Jonathan, this is the closest we get to seeing Dracula trying to be close with and/or properly*** interacting with someone. An exchange that ends not only with handing over the poor stolen baby in the sack, but outright promising Jonathan to the Sisters once Dracula is finished with him.

And that’s sticking with me this year. Because for all that I’ve joked and memed about it in the past, it never really whacked me over the head with the import and terror that comes with Jonathan’s opening line in this entry.

God preserve my sanity, for to this I am reduced.

Reduced. That’s the key word here.

Even if he doesn’t know all the rules, he knows now that he is no longer just a temporary prisoner. Not even a mere murder victim waiting out the clock. No. He has been reduced to a living decanter. A possession there to be nursed from and used and given as a gift from Dracula to his companions. Like a toy or a new pet.

At the risk of slight spoilers (avert your eyes first-time Dracula Dailiers!), two important lines are yet to come during Jonathan’s stay in Vampire Hell. One from Dracula:

But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula.

(Yes, he does think he’s very funny. Prick.)

And another from Jonathan:

At its foot a man may sleep—as a man.

Two vital beats.

The first, because it is a winking confirmation to all that Jonathan has feared. Namely, that Dracula and the Weird Sisters mean to never let him leave the castle again, alive, dead, or otherwise.

The second, because it shows that for all Jonathan is not aware of, he does rightly suspect that there is more expected of him than being a mere meal to have and discard. He knows he is not due for a fleeting pain and escape, even via death. Because Dracula wants to ‘love’ him. To keep him.

And Dracula will do so because he keeps the Weird Sisters, and they will keep him. A parting gift from their loving lord of the castle. The conqueror’s playbook in miniature.

I turned you. You turn him. I have you all.

This, buried under the veneer of:

See girls? I care! Here, a fine new plaything to keep you company. Housebroken already.

(To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced.)

There’s time right now. However much time Jonathan can win by playing a good guest. But if he doesn’t get out by the time Dracula is done with him? He lives the rest of his human life as a wine bottle and then all of eternity after that as joint undead property.

Better hope your acting skills are up to the task, Mr. Harker.

[valentine-cafe]

(jingyi 1311, male reader)

being a friend who hangs out with him while he works, stopping by to drop off some homemade lunches and chat as an excuse to see him. (maybe often enough that you get teased by his coworkers)

unbeknownst to him, you.....really, really think it's hot how sweaty and grimey he gets as he works. the smell of motor oil and grease only worsens it. it's hard to hide your fluster when he's right there, when you're fantasizing about all the things you'd do, or want him to do to you. you so badly want to lick the beads of sweat running down his neck, intoxicated by all of the scents on him... alas, you've got to keep your poker face and act like normal, but perhaps your gaze wasn't as subtle as you wished.

who knows if he'd even want to mess you up as badly as you want him to.

˖⁺. ﹙ top naga mechanic x bttm male reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . close eye !! 🍒 :  mechanic ˖ naga ˖ villain character﹙ verse 1311 jìngyí. ﹚

you can't help but be turned on by your mechanic naga friend. . . you just have to watch him work.

jìngyí is the furthest thing form unaware at all your little visits, the lunches, the talks. the way that your eyes always seem to trail along his neck after he’s pushed himself from the undercarriage. or his hands while he’s working on one of his newest inventions.

how you accidentally bump into him on your way in. just so that you can feel the touch of his arm against you. feel the strange mix of heat and cold that radiates off of him.

he is a patient man. a snake that quite enjoys to lure his prey to him. bit by bit. size them up. note if they can take him.

oh and you were just so willing. he wonders how many times he has kept you up at night. or had you scampering home to needily jerk off the second your front door is shut.

every time he catches your stare all he can imagine is how you would whine beneath his strong hands. he debated on what he should do to you first. jerk you off? finger your poor little hole? maybe make you grind on him since you’re such a needy slut.

and it’s not like he makes it any easier for you. he always makes sure to throw off his top overalls at some point when you are there. intentionally leans over to grasp at his tools. speak into your ear in a murmured apology. or an answer to whatever question you asked today.

it isn’t until one day he catches the little tent you so desperately tried to hide away. yet still had the nerve to trot on in and talk to him.

what else can he do but make you bounce on his dick? you wanna act like a whore so let him treat you like one.

he’ll type away at his holographic screen with new schematics for his inventions. shooting you a small glare when you stutter your hips. only for him to clap your thigh, squeeze it and bring you down into a hard slam. his balls slapping against your ass.

“don’t stop now.”

if you’re lucky he might stroke at your dick. trace a free finger along your tip before flicking it. then going back to his work like nothing happened. “always looking like you wanna gag on my dick. so ride it. come on.”

when you’re whining and begging for him to do it is when he’ll get annoyed. slam you over the hood of one of the cars he has been working on and start rough-fucking you into the metal. until you’re gasping, crying his name - clinging onto whatever you possibly can.

“j-jìngyí -! h-hngh fuck please -”

all you’ll get is a greased hand around your throat. yanking you up to a pair of cold lips as his hips slam forward and start fucking that one, blinding spot rapidly.

“please? just giving you what you wanted. come on baby,” a deep hiss eases from his body. as he crushed you against the hood and pounds your poor ass to putty. till you’re spilling over and limping the next few days back to him and his workshop. ready to mess it up further.

[ultraericthered]

I think it might've been intentional. Just like Enji doesn't get the easy way out of dealing with natural karma for his misdeeds, neither does Touya. Both of them have to lay in the bed they made themselves.

So there's a bit of talk going around now if Touya is alive after the 8-year time-skip or if he unceremoniously died off screen. The doctor said he only had a short time to live, and given his burns, that's a believable diagnosis. But on the other, we heard similarly from when he first became Dabi and he's still kicking.

But that's not really what I'm interested in talking about so much as the people looking at the people saying he's dead, and getting offended like the other party wants him dead. Which I feel begs a question, ir a rather dark one...Do we really want him alive?

Do we want him to still him to be alive after the time skip if it means he spent the past 8 years trapped in cenobite cosplay, strapped to a metal slab, in prison, only able to talk for minutes a day, and forced to spend all that conversation time on Endeavor every day the entire time? Like, even if he miraculously fully heals, they'd never let him out; we know how fucked up the prison system of MHA is, he's trapped there until the end of his days. The entire League is dead or in prison too, so there's no one breaking him and and no reunions except in death anyway. I know we should be wanting one of the last League members and the brother Shoto fought so hard to save to live a long life. But I wouldn't wish a long life of nothing but having to talk to Endeavor everyday on Endeavor himself. That's just cruel.

Grim as this is to say; death looks like nothing but a mercy in Touya's situation.

Although I will say, now that I put that to text, that's a really fucked up ending for a character who was suicidal. What the hell Horikoshi?

[sserpente]

The Weight of a Promise - Part II

Synopsis: One month has passed since you reluctantly became Lord Gortash's concubine. You ought to hate him--yet your heart seems to disagree.

A/N: When inspiration strikes…you gotta strike back! Took a bit longer than I expected but here we go! :D

You can read Part I here!

Words: 2523 Warnings: violence, blood, mentions of prostitution, concubine!Reader

“Good morning, dear. I take it you’ve had sweet dreams?”

You stirred, eyes flying open. You were warm, and comfortable. Cosy. Your head was resting on Gortash’s naked chest, his right arm pressing you close against his body. You had gotten so used to his presence and the intimacy between you that you didn’t even flinch away when his fingertips ghosted over your bare shoulder but instead…took relish in it.

“Morning…”

One whole month. You had been keeping an eye on the calendar on Gortash’s desk. You were surprised, to say the least. Part of you had suspected he would grow tired of you after a few days and move on to the next whore he’d be given for free. Perhaps one that would throw herself at him.

Alas, as much as you hated to admit it, you had begun to enjoy his company. Enver Gortash was as insufferable as he was megalomaniacal. But he was charming, too. No wonder the city gladly accepted him as its hero and saviour.

His mask was perfect. You very much doubted he truly did have a heart for the homeless and the poor though. Only yesterday had you overheard him talk about increasing the tax rates for small businesses for more profit to put into his Steel Watch. Now that you spent so much time with him, you would have believed his chivalry too had you not known the truth. A good man did not keep concubines, not like this. A good man did not have rumours spread about him worshipping one of the dead three.

And yet, despite everything, part of you was growing…grateful. He’d kept his promise. Thanks to him, you barely remembered what hunger was now. He had gotten you so many dresses you could never decide what to wear and every night, you shared his bed, warm and comfortable, nestled underneath his soft sheets.

The sex was phenomenal, of course. Just like the very first time he had claimed you, you would be lying if you insisted it wasn’t a pleasurable experience for you. Only it was empty, meaningless. Why else would he keep you around if not for a wet hole to fuck when he was overcome with lust?

The more time you were forced to spend with him, the more you realised that you wanted him to like you for more than your body. To know that you were more than an object for him to play with and entertain himself with and to convince yourself and your stupid feelings that he was not the villain you took him for. To soothe your own conscience.

It could be Stockholm Syndrome, you thought, chewing on your lower lip. But then again, he had told you that you were free to go the very day you arrived, made it seem like it had been your own choice to become a slave to his most carnal desires in exchange for your basic human needs to be met.

The mornings all started the same. You and Gortash had breakfast together, after that he tended to his archduke business and you remained in bed for a while longer, reading the books he owned. He’d call you over at some point, eager for your company—or your body.

As of right now, he was finished with his duties for the day. After a rich lunch, he’d insisted on taking a walk with you by the sea near Wyrm’s Rock to take his mind off things, a Steel Watcher always in close vicinity to protect him.

“You are not focusing at all, are you, dear? Could you at least put in a little bit of effort? Make it a challenge for me!”

You blinked. You’d been staring at the lance board for what must have been several minutes with your knees tucked and your chin resting between them. Gortash had insisted you played with him tonight. Only you had no idea how.

“I don’t know how to play,” you admitted.

Amusement flashed over Gortash’s handsome face. “You don’t know how to play lance board? Truly?”

You shook your head.

He took a deep breath. “Well, in that case…it is rather simple. There are six pieces in the game that—”

“Why did you increase the tax rates?” You couldn’t help it. The question left your lips before you could stop yourself. You were curious.

Gortash paused, momentary surprise marking his features. “And since when exactly, pray tell, do I discuss political matters with my concubine?”

“It’s just a question. I overheard you passing the bill.”

“You mean you were eavesdropping.”

You frowned. “You knew I was right there.”

“Ah, yes.” He chuckled. But then, nothing.

“So?”

“Protection is expensive, my dear. My Steel Watch requires constant maintenance. Maintenance that requires materials. Materials that cost money.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Pardon me?”

“I’ve seen the documents. You have two vaults at the Counting House. Two vaults that are bulging with gold.” You’d caught a glimpse at the numbers, black ink on a fresh roll of parchment one morning while he’d made you keep his cock warm for him at his desk. You swallowed. “If you truly had the city’s best interest at heart you would be reaching into your own pockets to help out. That is true charity.”

Gortash raised an eyebrow. He appeared amused, if anything. “I am giving the citizens of Baldur’s Gate a purpose. By contributing in the form of taxes, they are contributing to keeping the city and themselves safe. And unlike my own fortunes, tax money is in constant circulation.”

You scoffed. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”

“I will not have you criticize my rule, my dear. Were you a lady or an adviser of mine, I could have your head for this without anyone batting an eyelash.”

Too far. You swallowed. So much for trying to convince yourself he was not a villain. “I apologise.”

“Good. Now, as I said. There are six types of pieces in the game. The first—”

Gortash was interrupted yet again. This time, however, by an airborne knife knocking the piece he pointed to straight to the ground where it shattered into a dozen pieces.

“Playing with your whore instead of working? You disappoint me, lordling.”

Gortash stiffened visibly. “Orin.”

Your eyes widened when you turned to face the unwanted visitor. She was as pale as the moon itself, with white creamy eyes piercing your soul. And her clothes…where they made of…skin? She staggered closer on bare feet, retrieving her dagger.

“You’ll find I have made much progress with our operation. But unlike you, I am a man of true entertainment. Uninterrupted murder is not up my alley.”

You blinked. Murder? What in the hells was he talking about?

“You are losing your focus, lordling. Do you need a reminder?”

Before you had processed what was happening, Orin grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you flush against her. The smell of rotten meat and blood filled your nostrils, the blade of her dagger pressing into your skin. Her hands were ice-cold.

You gasped for air, paralysed. You willed your legs to kick her, your fingers to scratch her, your head to shatter her chin…but your body did not obey. Fear wrapped its icy claws around you, preventing you from taking action.

One wrong movement…and you would die. Your eyes found Gortash’s, yours pleading, begging. Surely, he would not let her harm you, surely, he would care if you lived after having shared the bed with him so many times…

“Now don’t be ridiculous, Orin. She’s my concubine. The only thing you will accomplish by killing her is making a mess of my office. I can always get a new one at the snap of my fingers.”

Your face fell, heart skipping several beats in a row. Not because of your fear now—but because it broke. Your lips parted. Was that truly how he felt after you’d spread your legs for him, listened to his sorrows, and kept him company? He’d promised to treat you well. Discarding you to the first bloodthirsty killer—whoever this Orin was—would break that promise after all.

“Well…then you won’t mind if I slit her throat? Bathe in her sweet blood and feast on her intestines? Would you still like to fuck her then, lordling?”

For just a second, you believed to catch a glimpse of actual panic glistening in his dark eyes. It was a fleeting moment, quickly replaced by a mask of steel.

“Orin, no, stop it!”

The woman laughed, the stench of stale blood almost making you gag as she pressed the blade even further against your delicate skin until you could feel a slight burn and something warm and sticky running down your throat.

“Orin!” You had not imagined it. There was panic swinging in his voice too now.

With a start, she removed her dagger from your throat and pushed you. You landed on your hands and knees on the hard stone floor, a pained cry escaping your lips due to the impact.

“With Ketheric Thorm dead, you should be on your guard, lordling. Because right now, your little plan is falling apart. And I am so very eager to spill blood in your chambers.”

“Control yourself, Orin. Ketheric’s death is a temporary setback. Once the Netherstone is back in our possession, we have nothing to fear and everything will go according to plan.”

You felt pathetic, cowering on the cold floor and listening to the conversation. You only understood half of what they were saying. Netherstones? What plan? And who was Ketheric Thorm?

“I will gut you if not, Gortash.” She disappeared in a mist of black and red as if her flesh erupted into a million pieces before evaporating.

Only now did you realise how heavily you were breathing. Gortash bent down, one of his hands resting on your shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“No! No, I’m not alright!” you exclaimed, biting back a sob.

“You would have let her kill me!”

“I would not.”

“Yes! That’s what you said!” Another sob, one you were unable to hold back. You were trembling. You could feel a small trickle of blood running down your cleavage right between your breasts.

Gortash grabbed a hold of your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Showing her I care for you would have been showing her weakness and that I cannot afford. I apologise you were caught between the lines.”

Care.

“How am I supposed to believe that? Am I not a means to an end? You keep acting like I should be grateful you took me in and gave me a roof over my head in exchange for sex and now I almost…” You did not dare finish the thought. Died.

“You stupid girl. Do you truly think I would keep just any woman around my private quarters where I conduct important city business? Do you think I would share my private bed with just any prostitute?”

“I…I…” You hesitated. He was not wrong.

“I am not the kind of man to pursue, my dear. I learned the hard way you simply have to take what you want in life. I liked you. So I had you brought here.”

“Why didn’t you just say so? Why must everything you do be a power trip?”

“A power trip? Exercising dominance is crucial to survive in this world. I want you here, by my side. Is that not enough? What else do you want me to tell you?”

He helped you up, retrieving a cloth from the cupboard next to a wash bowl. The gentleness with which he wiped at your throat and your chest to clean the blood off of you surprised you so much yet another sob escaped you.

“I…I want you to tell me…you care about me? I’m not just a whore you can easily replace?”

“I don’t want any of the other whores. I wanted you. And I still do. I have no reason to lie to you, my dear. And you care about me too. I can see it in your eyes. You like the things we do together. Am I right?”

You nodded, unable to utter words for a moment.

“I hate myself for it.”

“Oh? And why is that, my dear?”

“You’re not a good person, Gortash. I can see that. I can feel it with every fibre of my being.”

“But…?”

“But…”

He threw the cloth away and cupped your face, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

“I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t…”

He smirked. He understood.

“I will have some servants fetched to run you a hot bath. I have some business to attend to. Then I will join you.”

“Gortash?”

“No.” He lifted a hand, a thoughtful expression decorating his handsome features for a moment. “I want you to call me by my first name when we’re in private. Enver.”

You frowned, lips parting in shock. The archduke of Baldur’s Gate wanted you to…call him by his first name?

“Enver.” You tasted the name on your tongue. It felt strange and yet…oddly familiar.

“That’s better.”

“Who is Orin? And don’t even think about telling me it doesn’t concern me given she just almost killed me.”

Gortash sighed. “She is…the Chosen of Bhaal, the god of murder and a reluctant ally of mine.”

Your eyes widened, shock rippling through you. Bhaal? The god of murder? One of the dead three?

“And who is…was…Ketheric Thorm?”

“The Chosen of Myrkul, a general who ruled over the Shadow Cursed Lands. Another reluctant ally.” Myrkul. He too was one of the dead three. The rumours you had heard about Gortash… Could that possibly mean…

“Go-…Enver…what deity do you worship?”

He smiled at you wickedly. “You have a sharp mind indeed, my dear. You might just be able to best me in a game of lance board in time.”

“Tell me what deity you worship.”

“You already know, do you not? You have asked me before, when we first met. And I am indeed, my dear, the Chosen of Bane. I will lead this city to glory.”

You took a step back, shock spreading in your veins like spiked vines. “What is this plan? What are the Netherstones?”

“That’s enough questions for now. Go and rest. The servants will be with you shortly.” He strode off, yet before he wrapped his hands around the doorknob, he turned his head and said, “Let me say it again: You belong by my side now, my dear. You have my protection. You have nothing to fear from me—or Orin, I will make sure of that. You might not agree with my methods but you cannot fight your own heart. You can trust me.”

With that, he was gone. Another promise. One that the growing butterflies in your stomach hoped he would never break. You belong by my side now, my dear.

You could leave, he had said a month ago. You should leave. Instead, you found yourself heading over to the wooden tub get rid of your now bloody dress.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Protagonists Who Would Support the Villain...of Other Cosmere Planets

As requested by @asteroidfieldgame :)

Sure, in their own stories the villains are not well-liked by the majority of the cast. But if we took those villains and had them meet protagonists of other Cosmere novels...well, then it might be different, mightn't it?

[Here there be spoilers! I would skip any entry if you're not caught up on all the books for both characters involved!]

1. Moash: Supported by Kelsier

Kelsier: [holding Moash protectively ala that one meme with Kevin Hart] Kelsier: My boy Moash has LITERALLY never done anything wrong ever! Kelsier: Ooooh, did he kill his oppressors? Is he mean to poor helpless nobility? Did someone Rich experience a Consequence? Moash: (mumbling) I did try to drive my friend to suicide. Kelsier: Shh...baby boy, it's okay! Kelsier: I made my disciple advocate for old people to kill themselves with spikes to preserve their power! Kelsier: You're literally fine.

2. Odium: Supported by Harmony

Harmony: Listen, I'm not saying I agree with everything Odium does. Harmony: But making it so that you have a planet of mighty, battle-hardened residents to prepare for the coming Cosmere-wide conflict? Harmony: Sometimes I wonder if I should have done something more like that. Harmony: Instead of giving everyone an easy life and making giraffes because giraffes are neat. Odium: Have you considered...battle giraffes? Harmony: Please don't patronize me.

3. Hrathen: Supported by Ellista (that one Ardent who was really into romance novels)

Ellista: I am not immune to a handsome man in bloodred armor with a troubled past whose hard, mean exterior is slowly worn away through love. Ellista: A man who chooses love--unrequited love!--over his own god! Ellista: Problematic for an Ardent like me, but so, so compelling. Ellista: (sighs dreamily) Hrathen: ... Hrathen: Could I have someone else's support please?

4. Riina [from Tress]: Supported by Wayne

Wayne (counting off reasons on his fingers): One, if you're gonna be the sort to be giving out curses, giving out breakable curses makes you less of an unforgivable villain and more of a garden-variety dick. Wayne: Two, rats are cute. Makin' someone a rat is better 'n' making them a grub or something. Wayne: Three, and most importantly, her penis spaceship is hilarious. Riina: IT WAS NOT A PENIS SPACESHIP

5. The Lord Ruler: Supported by Dalinar

Dalinar: I suppose I am simply more aware than most that being a king is hard and can involve less-than-ideal-choices. Dalinar: And didn't he essentially become immortal while trying to cage an evil god and save his planet? I am literally setting myself up to maybe experience that as we speak. Dalinar: I know he took an entire population and made them slaves, but I did tell Jasnah not to free our slaves so, like... Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Maybe Wit was right. Maybe I AM a tyrant. Wit: You've never done an enforced breeding program with humans, though. That I know of. The Lord Ruler did that! Like, a lot! Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Wait I want to mitigate my support a little.

6. Taravangian: Supported by Shai

Shai: That Diagram of his...well, it's pure art, isn't it? Shai: I'm not immune to the appeal of incredibly complex and well-researched plans turned into an artistic representation so beautiful that it attracts worshippers. Taravangian: It's really more science than it is art, I'd say. Shai: Hilarious that you think those things are different.

7. Nale: Supported by Marasi

Marasi: He knows the law and follows the law. Marasi: Don't think it would ever occur to him that someone could be quote unquote "above" the law. Marasi: That makes him better than, like, quite a lot of my coworkers.

8. The Machine [from Yumi and the Nightmare Painter]: Supported by Vasher

Vasher: Obviously a soul-eating machine that nearly destroys a planet and turns people into nightmares is not ideal. Vasher: But it's not the machine's fault it was given an ill-considered Command. Vasher: Hey! Bald guy! Wanna gentle-parent the machine too? Szeth: Uh

9. Raboniel: Supported by Elend

Elend: Not for nothing am I chair of the Support Women's Wrongs fanclub. Elend: Nor can I fail to support a Woman in Science. Basic feminism. Elend: And although I know my bar is on floor, a parent who will do anything to save their child from eternal suffering gets me right here. (points to his heart)

10. Straff: Supported by...no one

Straff: ... Straff: ... Straff: OH COME ON

[ultraericthered]

Damn. Curious gets the last laugh from beyond the grave.

Can't believe Toga became the exact martyr that Curious was going to turn her into.

[dangermousie]

Six eps in, and Different Princess is a total delight.

I only checked it out because I am very very fond of Song Yiren (and she's a delight here) but this has proven to be an unexpected pleasure, with the vibe of a delicious web novel come to life.

The plot is indeed like one of them - the set up is the beloved "heroine transmigrates as a minor soon to be dead character in a novel and hooks up with the villain." Think Tiger and Rose or My Villain Husband. I am a sucker for this trope.

Our FL is a novelist who just finished a novel where her noble ML and noble FL got murdered by the villain - ML ascended to the throne, but the villain his half brother, went not so fast and culminated his long take over campaign by a lot of familial murder. Due to reader outrage, the FL is sent back into the novel - only way out, she thinks, is to change the outcome. Alas, she's transmigrated into a minor character, villain's unfortunate wife who he murders on their wedding night as part of a plot.

Her goals: not die, change the plot, go home, save the ML who (in a nice change from a lot of these stories where original ML and FL are awful) is a genuinely lovely person (and so is his original FL) and avoid the villain as much as possible. Good luck!

It's fun, well-paced and knows exactly what it is. I am pleasantly surprised that so far villain is a scheming schemer whose good looks are about his only redeeming quality. I am sure he will turn out to have trauma or w/e but fact remains he's gleefully framing his nice half brother and was equally happily planning to murder a poor woman (he didn't even know) on their wedding night to cause a conflict. I bet the leeway is because "it's a novel" so keep this up!

[fatasticfeedernurse]

Ahh tsuyu chaan so this is where you're hiding!!

The eager villain jumped in from the window of tsuyu's room sharp smile on her she had a backpack damp with the greasy gifts she brought for her friends..

"ooooh i really hope they aren't trying to ruin my hard work hehe! Look at all the froggy flab out here.. All because of my love for my friends! Poke poke..~"

With one of her needles toga poked tsuyu's meaty arm a smile forming on her face drooling a bit with glee as the thick yellowish and red liquid spurred out.. Body so filled with lard even her blood was starting to have chunks of it..

"ooooh how cuteeee!! Even your blood is getting affected now!~ hehe oh I'm so sorry tsuyu-chan! I've been talking for so long you must be starving right?!.. No more of that icky hospital diet food for you!~"

The villain pulled a bag from her backpack you could barely even see the logo off the fast food place on it as she pulled out a greasy burger the size of one of tsuyu's cheeks out of the bag~

"opeen wiiide!! I'll make sure you're full before i find a way to bust your lardy froggy butt out of here okaaaay~ and if your heart starts aching weeell I'm sure there's a defribrawhatcha call it around here!"

Tsu hated the position she was in, unable to combat the extreme levels of morbid obesity she had aquired thanks to that maniatic villian that had taken a over fixation on her. She suffered sooo long under her care.... But alas, the dragon nurses took her in once she was rescued from the remote building Toga originally began to fatten her and others out. Did she enjoy her current state? Well... she didnt hate it, and it was much, much better than when she was under the care of Toga. So for a while she just enjoyed the pleasures she could indulge in this state. Sponge baths, foot massages,

treat day (Where the nurses would feed them something of their choice, which meant not lard!), letting out built up gas

, getting crumbs out of her massive chest with her tongue,

and many other little pleasures... ...So when the poor blob of pale flesh heard that voice again..Her poor, lardy, cholesterol filled heart filled with fear quicker than her cheeks with lard during feeding time.

"K-Kehroh! Noh..Noh! Tohgah, w-what'sh ahreh youh d-doin' hehreh?? goh a-away!!"

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Toga just had one objetive in mind and it wasnt going to me changed any time soon. So she just moaned in pain as she felt the needle going into her meaty arm, and when she saw what her blood hard turned into...She didnt know what to think....

*BA-DUMP*

*BA-DUMP!*

At least for a few seconds, for then she began to feel a rush of blood through her veins, and no it wasnt for the stuff Toga was pouring into her. "-"Ah..kehroh..kehroh..nooh ...*thbbbt*... ihtsh ...*Bllbbfffttt*... wrong..mhghh..pleashe...please ...*prrrt*... " All this decadence triggered something into her lardy froggy brain, to which her body reacted in response. Making her add more sweat stains to her already drenched bariatric bed as her ass let out wet, panty wrecking farts. Tsu didnt know how, why or when...But a part of her wanted this...And when she was offered the same food that had led to her needing a heart trasnplant, she could only obediently opened her mouth.

Waiting for the rush her body would get from eating whatever it was that Toga had brough her...

*Beep!*

*Beep!*

*Beep!!*

*Beep!!!!*

Now its for sure that Tsu wont make it to 30..